#and when he does die he keeps coming back over and over again cause what other choice does he have | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oreo-creampie · 6 months

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“𝐠𝐨 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩, 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐨𝐩”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! cocksucking/face fucking, sugar daddy!gojo/sugar baby!reader, spitting, fingering, choking you with their cock, praise/degradation, daddy/mama/princess, sucking, kissing and massaging their balls, cum swallowing, overstimulation, ‘just the tip’, smacking your ass, one cunt slap, established relationships

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! Ya know what's really hot? Guys with their belts undone! I don't know why but I love it! Like, imagine nanami getting ready for work, still damp from the shower, coming out of the bedroom with his pants and belt on but not done up. He's looking for something and you're just staring at the little bit of hair peaking above the band of his briefs. I would die. Ooo, or maybe gojo gets home from work on a hot day and sits on the couch (man spreading because, duh, it's gojo) undoes his jacket and belt to cool down a bit but little does he know you're going to make him heat up again! He would look so good leaning back with his pants undone like that, I mean, that's just asking for a blow job, right?

𝐅𝐞𝐲: you came you cooked and YOU FUCKIN’ SERVED 🤤 my mind went straight to Kento with a towel over his face, imagine surprising him when he’s laying down like that. Also it makes me believe he has a low energy skin care routine to keep clean but he doesn’t bother with the dark circles since the bags have bags after he gets off work

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

Needy cries carry through the cozy apartment into the bedroom, “Sugar pie! Honeybee! Darling! Light of my light! Your Satoru has been cooked alive! It’s too hot outside!” You sit up pushing the covers back to get out of bed.

Smiling as you head into the living room where Satoru lounges with his phone and various sweets scattered around him. His pale face flushed pink from the heat.

His jacket was abandoned on the back of the sofa. His white shirt is unbuttoned, framing thick pecs and hard abs. Satoru's white happy trail leads your gaze toward the dark band of his underwear.

His belt is undone, zipper is pushed down showcasing a prominent bulge of his soft cock. Sparking an idea whilst getting you wet between your legs. "I missed you."

Satoru smirks, "Why wouldn't you? I'm a delight!" You slip the baggy shirt off dropping it on the floor. He tilts his head back slightly and slips his finger under his blindfold. He's so eternally beautiful with his piercing blue eyes.

His cheeks flush a darker pink, "I missed you too sweetheart." You walk up to kneel between his legs, rubbing Satoru’s hard cock.

Looking up at him and insisting, "Of course you did! You adore me too much, all day long you’ve been thinkin’ about coming home time.” Kissing his cock through his underwear. “You have a slutty cock getting so hard without me even touching me."

His cheeks flush a darker pink. "I can’t help mama, you’re stunning.” You slide your hand up his hard abs and squeeze a handful of his pec, digging your nails in.

Biting Satoru’s abs causing him to momentarily flex and whine. "Nnnfuck!" Yanking your head back by a handful of your hair. "Tell me what my pretty lil’ princess wants from her sugar daddy."

Smiling whilst massaging his hardening cock through his underwear. You smile, "I wanna suck your cock daddy. You look suck-able sitting on the sofa belt unbuckled, manspreading like a whore." Satoru lets your hair go and lifts his hips up enough for you to slide his pants and underwear down.

Satoru shrugs his shirt off, placing it over the back of the sofa. "I'm the whore? You're the one who dropped to their knees at the sight of me." You grab his cock, kissing his pale pink head.

You insist, "By the time I did you were already rock hard and wet with pre-cum from just looking at me." Licking his head clean then bobbing your head whilst massaging his balls.

Satoru pushes your head down gagging you with his long, veiny cock. "Nnnmama you sound so hot gagging on my cock." With his cock deep in your throat Satoru stands up to fuck your mouth.

Admiring the sight of your soft lips around his cock, Satoru smirks and croons, “Dumb lil slut, the moment you saw me all you could think about is my cock." Gliding his cock out spitting on your face before stuffing his cock back in.

His spit drips down your cheek as he fucks your throat. When you let his balls go they smack your chin. He groans, “Look up at me beautiful.” Your eyes are watering from gagging on his cock. “Awe my lil slut is cryin’ already. I hope my cock too much for you.”

You grab Satoru’s thigh, digging your nails in eliciting a needy whine from him. Spreading your legs apart and pushing your underwear aside, gliding finger between your lips and smearing your slick on your clit.

Satoru glides his cock out then sits back down, yanking you close by your hair. “Get to suckin’ mama, play with both of us.” Slapping your face with his cock, then nudging your soft lips.

Opening your mouth to slowly glide Satoru's cock in deep, gagging around him. Then gliding him out burying your face into his large balls, you softly suck his fat nut-sack. Whilst stroking his cock with steady, swirls of your hand.

You moan with a mouth full of Satoru's balls, rubbing your clit faster. Getting off on feeling like a dirty whore with his sweaty balls in your face. You glide two fingers down inside yourself

His phone beside him rings. "Hey! I'm getting my cock sucked for manspreading like a pretty whore. What's up Suguru?"

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

Ice clinks in Kento's glass of whisky as he takes a sip. He squeezes a white hand towel over a steaming bowl of water. The veins on his large hand and thick forearm are eye-catching.

He softly sets his glass down. "It's late you should get some sleep." The pink scratches leading down his broad, sculpted chest are reminders of last night.

You warmly smile at Kento and insist to him, "I like waiting up for you my Love." Sliding his fingers through his soft blonde hair. Laying his head back to spread the towel over his face.

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. You bite your lip whilst admiring his large bulge. His cock is so thick even when soft. "Sweetheart I love you so much." Kento takes the hand towel off his face and lifts his head, giving you a gentle, loving smile.

You walk over and kneel in front of him, "I love you too daddy." Softly kissing Kento's soft cock through his underwear. You grab his pants, and he lifts his hips enough for you to tug them down his thick thighs.

Tossing his pants aside he groans spreading his legs apart further. "That's it Daddy relax n' lemme take care of you." Kissing along his cock and taking Kento's thick head into your mouth. Slowly bobbing your head, spit drips down his cock.

Stroking the rest of Kento with steady swirls of your fist. "What did I do to deserve coming home to you?" Kento groans, rutting his hips and setting the hand towel in the bowl.

You glide Kento's fat cock out with a soft pop. "What didn't you do?" Using both of your hands to stroke his long cock. Your fingertips can't touch, Kento is too thick.

You lovingly explain, "You're a loving, gorgeous man who treats me wonderfully. I'm happy I get you all to myself for the next two days." Kissing along his muscular thighs. "We can keep the curtains closed walking around naked." You bite his thighs softly, licking a short strip towards Kento's soft balls.

You softly kiss his cock head and look up at him. "I can give you breakfast in bed." Sucking his sensitive head with needy moans then gliding him out with a soft pop. "Later on I can rub you down in oil n' give you a massage." Gliding half of him into your slack jaw mouth, stroking the rest of his cock.

Massaging Kento's large, warm balls with your other hand. "We can cook together; take a turn massaging the other-fuck your mouth feels wonderful," he groans, "so warm and wet." Softly jerking his hips, pushing your head down shoving his fat cock deeper into your mouth.

Kento pulls his hand away, "Sorry my darling nnnn." Then grips the edge of the sofa. Sliding his hand through his soft blond hair, slicking it back, pulling stray strands out of his eyes.

He warns, "Beautiful, I'm going to cum if you don't stop." Bobbing your head faster, deep throating his cock and groaning. Kento trembles, tilting his head back, his lips parting with a deep moan. Thick cum trickles and then spurts into your mouth.

Slowly gliding Kento's cock out of your mouth, swallowing his cum. Cum drips down the side of Kento's fat head and over the puffy thick vein. You kiss his balls and croon, "I know you got more for me."

You lick the trail of cum then suckling on his sensitive cock head. Swirling your tongue around him, then flattening your tongue to glide him along his tongue. Kento loudly whimpers, "Mama please fuck!" Lightly resting his large hand on top of your head.

Bobbing your head faster keeping his cock from getting soft. His thighs tremble as he digs his heels into the carpet. "Nnn!" You glide him out with a soft pop and stand up, straddling his hips.

You line Kento's fat cock with your soaking wet cunt, gliding him between your lips. Kento insists with a breathy whine, "Nnnmy Love let me stretch your pretty cunt with my fingers, make sure my cock is easier to take." Rubbing his head between your lips, soaking him.

You lean forward kissing one of the pink scratches on his thick pecs. "You're so thoughtful Daddy, how about I take just the tip. I've really missed you; I want to feel your hard cock inside me." You softly moan, taking pleasure in how Kento's fat head stretches your soft cunt.

Kento soft squeezes your side, sliding his large hand along your body. "I've missed you too beautiful Mama. You're soft and warm, I've missed us spending time together." Massaging your cheek, helping you slowly bounce on his cockhead.

"We can catch up by making breakfast, and then snuggling up with a movie, show, or book, your choice." He leans down for a passionate, tender kiss, slipping his tongue in when you part your lips.

𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢

Hiromi is lounging on the sofa taking several large gulps of bourbon. Following it with a long drag off his cigar. Smoke drifts past his lips as he rants, "I need more than a drink n' a smoke after the day I had." He untucks his shirt and quickly undoes his belt and zipper.

His tie haphazardly rests around his neck with the knot hanging low. Several buttons on his shirt are undone showing his flawless large, firm pecs. His chest is so beautifully sculpted.

You walk over to Hiromi, leaning down and sliding your hand up Hiromi's thigh towards his undone belt and zipper. Whilst suggesting, "How about I take your mind off it for a little while daddy?" Gently massaging his thighs close to his soft cock and balls. "Give you a treat for working hard today n' putting up with so much bullshit."

A smile stretches across his lips, "Let me take my jacket and shirt off." He sets his glass down as you stand up.

You insist, "Lean forward I'll do that for you, then we can go for a shower. I can scrub you down, we can order a late bite to eat then fall asleep with the tv on." Hiromi scoots forward puffing on his stubby cigar, then ashes it out. You push the jacket off his broad shoulders, the sleeves are snug on his muscular arms.

Hiromi's loving smile is heartwarming "I love it when you take care of me Mama." You set his jacket and shirt aside on the sofa. then kiss his forehead.

You kneel between his thighs, fondling his cock whilst crooning, "It's a pleasure to Daddy, I get to feel up on you while I do." You grab Hiromi's pants, prompting him to lift his hips for you to pull down his underwear and pants.

Following his dark happy trail with your fingertip, "It's so hot how your thick, heavy cock hangs." Lifting his cock up, admiring how thick and veiny Hiromi is. "You have such a beautiful cock." You look up at Hiromi and lick his cockhead clean of pre-cum.

Opening your mouth, gliding his cock in, and slowly bobbing your head. Getting wet from Hiromi's deep raspy groans. "Fuuuck mama your mouth is divine." Deepthroating his cock with a groan, he ruts his hips, pushing your head down when you lift up.

He grabs a handful of your hair, gliding his cock out. Causing it to fall onto his balls with a soft plop. "Do you mind if I fuck out a little frustration?"

You smile, "Whatever you need Daddy." Hiromi lets your hair go and leans down to kiss your forehead. He grabs your baggy shirt causing you to lift your hands for Hiromi to slip it off, setting it with his clothes.

He instructs, "Stand up for me then." You stand up and he hooks a finger into your underwear, pushing them down, kissing your clit.

When you sit down Hiromi asks, "Give me a sip of wine." You grab the glass of bourbon and straddle his hips. You take a sip then softly kissing Hiromi, parts his lips for the cool liquor.

Hiromi roughly smack your ass when you pull away. "That was good lil' mama." He softly slaps your cunt, then slides two thick fingers in. "Lay down so I can smack your soft cheeks and finger your cunt into a juicy mess before I fold you in a mating press against a wall." Keeping his fingers in you as you lay down, face near his cock. Which he lines up with your soft lips.

Slowly pumping his long, thick fingers into your soaking wet cunt. Stuffing your mouth with his cock when you moan. Shoving your head down and groaning, "Nnn that’s it choke on my fat cock Mama." Your cunt clenches his fingers as he pulls your head up by your hair.

Your soft cunt squelches as he pumps his fingers faster. "Your cunt so loud for me, telling me how much she missed me. I missed feeling her too, so warm, soft, and soaking wet." Spit drips down your chin and your eyes sting with tears whilst Hiromi makes you deepthroat his fat cock.

all works!

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urhoneycombwitch · 8 months

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eddie x latebloomer, virgin reader (so not self-projecting...) who isn't innocent or typically what people say is "virginal" (because virginity is a construct!) but still gets super nervous about heavy petting/sex because they've never done it before and don't want to be bad or weird and literally just flees at the confrontation

until that ovulation hits and r! is trying so hard to ignore it, squirming on Eddie's couch/bed and he's like 🤨 you ok? and then it just comes out in a whole word vomit that he's super hot and they're absolutely soaked but don't know what to do and it probably won't be good and they should just go home and eddies like... no big deal, I'll just eat you out, no penetration 🤷🏻

and when they do actually have sex later, I know Eddie talks R through it

ty for suggesting this anon! u got me inspired here's a lil blurb. also dedicated to @wdsara48 who asked for more inexperienced!reader content 🫡

+18 mdni: Eddie’s a bit clueless about the hormone cycle, oral (r receiving), cumming in pants (guess who), ovulation horny (™)

____________

On second thought, it was probably a really bad call to visit your boyfriend when you were this horny.

Which sounds silly, you know it does- who wouldn't want to visit their hot boyfriend at a time like this?- but you've really been enjoying taking it slow this time around. Eddie is the first boy you've dated who has totally and completely earned your trust when it comes to sex- he's never once pressured you to take your heated make-out sessions any further, pulling back and unwinding himself from you with spit-slick lips every so often to gauge your comfort level.

Is this okay? How are you feeling? Wanna take a break?

So kind. So considerate. So far away, in the kitchen, humming to himself while he fixes dinner, hair loose and curling around the shoulders of his tight Metallica tee. Every time he reaches over to stir the pot of chili on the stove, the lean muscles in his upper back and biceps curl and flex.

Hormones are flushing hot through your body, the couch you’re seated on feeling more and more confining by the second; you cross your legs at the ankle in an attempt to stave off the fidgeting, but when this causes the thick denim of your zippered jeans to press into the ache between your legs you are quick to uncross them again.

There’s a low-toned buzz that’s taken up residence in your hearing, like all the raging horniness has no place else to go- which is why you don’t hear Eddie the first time he speaks.

He’s standing at the edge of the living room now, hands on hips, one dark brow raised in your direction- “Earth to angel. You with me?”

“Huh?” You swallow harshly against the dryness in your throat (contrasted with the excess wetness in other places) and shake your head, slipping your hands underneath your thighs to sit on them and ground yourself a bit. “Sorry, I was zoning out. What’d you say?”

“I said you seem antsy tonight,” Eddie repeats, moving in to sit next to you, close enough for your knees to touch. “Had too much coffee or somethin’? Y’know, you really shouldn’t drink that stuff after noon. Not good for ya.”

He’s teasing, all smooth movements with an easy grin as he snakes an arm around your shoulders.

The smoke-sweet smell of his cologne floods your senses- musky and heady and this underlayer of something earthy, wild, that you could swear hits on a primal nerve by the way it makes your clit throb.

When you stiffen under Eddie’s arm, he reads your signal as one of discomfort, tsking at himself underneath his breath before starting to pull away. “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to make you-”

“No!” Your hand darts out to grab at his over your shoulder, keeping him from leaving, because if the warmth of his body pressed to your side stops you might actually die. “No, it’s not you. I promise. It’s me. I’m…”

Eddie watches you with mild concern as you flounder, mouth opening and shutting a few times before settling on just the truth- “I’m ovulating.”

He blinks. “Um. Shit. Do you need to go to the doctor? ‘Cuz the main office is definitely closed this time ‘a night but the ER is for sure open-”

You bend at the waist, pitching forward with a groan and cutting him off. With hot cheeks buried in your hands, your voice comes out muffled- “Didn’t you take sex ed, like, three times?”

“Sure did. Learned basic anatomy real well.” His palm has slid to your lower back, your shirt ridden up to expose a stripe of skin that his warm hand now rests on. “Help me out, princess. What’s goin’ on?”

With a pounding heart, you manage to sit up, looking down at your hands in your lap as you whisper, “Ovulation makes me, like, super horny.”

At first, you think he didn’t hear you, but after a beat of silence there’s a subtle shift in his posture, spine straightening.

“Oh.” Eddie’s hand on you doesn’t move but his other one smoothes down the line of his jean-clad thigh, clearing his throat before asking, “And do you wanna… do something about that?”

Mustering courage, you swivel slightly to look at him- the joking tone from earlier has drained out of his voice, and this is the shyest you’ve ever seen him: staring unseeing at his own lap, plucking at the knee of his jeans.

“Like what?” You ask, matching the same low tone he’s just used.

When Eddie looks back at you, that’s when you realize your mistake- his lack of eye contact wasn’t due to shyness. The way he’s looking at you now, dark chocolate eyes holding a steady gaze, it’s a wonder he’s been so restrained this whole time.

“Could eat you out. Only if you wanted, though.”

You shiver. Visibly.

A slow, half-tilted smile pulls at Eddie’s lips; he brings your free hand to his face and kisses your knuckles, then tugs you up with him to stand.

“C’mon. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Cast in soft lamplight, Eddie closes the door to his room before cupping your face in his hands, cool rings against your cheeks. He kisses you gently, at first, plush lips notching in steady rhythm against yours; when you tug him in closer by his waist and slip your tongue between his teeth, he groans into your mouth.

He pulls away, wet click of your separating mouths loud in the quiet of the room before giving your hip a light tap. “Up on the bed, angel.”

You’re quick to comply, crawling backwards on the duvet, lust unfurling in your stomach as you rest half-propped on your elbows.

Eddie divests himself of his shirt in one fluid motion without taking his eyes from you. His pale skin gleams in the low light, silver chain and guitar pick necklace swinging as he moves to hover over you.

“You okay?” He asks, dark hair a curtain around both your faces as his bare torso presses against your clothed one.

When you nod, he ducks to kiss you again before sliding a hand up your shirt. “Good. ‘Cuz I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You know he’s mostly joking- you and him have a safeword, and he’s always attentive to your body signals- but the pure desire that he’s kissing and touching you with is indicative of a boy who’s waited too long to be able to have you like this.

Eddie laps at your mouth, tongue twining with yours as his hand squeezes and molds the fat of your breast through your bra as both your nipples stiffen in response. When his knee slots between your thighs, you moan, hips jolting up to chase the friction.

“Can I…” you’re panting, forehead crushed to Eddie’s as you search for the words. “I want your mouth, on me- please.”

You’re rarely ever so communicative, usually hidden away behind a wall of reservations that are totally melted away now. Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched, sucks at a spot behind your ear that causes your hips to rock forward again, then says, “Yeah, sweetheart, yeah. You can have my mouth. Fuck.”

While he kisses down the slope of your neck, between your clothed breasts, your bare stomach where your shirt’s been rucked up, he’s muttering (to himself, to you, hard to say): “‘Course you can have my mouth. Have it wherever you want it. Christ. Should’a asked for it sooner. Give you anything you want.”

Eddie pops the button on your jeans and you lift your hips so he can pull them completely off your body; when he sees the wet patch of arousal darkening your baby blue underwear he chokes out another curse before working the fabric down your hips and tossing them to the ground.

“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” he asks, stretching his lower half out on the mattress and pulling your legs over his shoulders, his mouth inches from your soaked core. Eddie looks up at you, face bracketed by your thighs, pupils blown out with desire, waiting for your go-ahead.

“Please,” you murmur, stretching out a hand to pet at the crown of his head.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment with your touch; when he presses a kiss to the top of your cunt, your hand tightens in his hair, his resulting hum of encouragement vibrating against your clit.

Eddie flattens his tongue and licks a wide stripe up your folds, spreading the wetness from your leaking hole up to mouth sloppily at your clit; when he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your elbow supporting your half-propped frame gives out and you pitch back against the covers.

“There- ah- shit, there, Eddie…” you sound wrecked already, voice husked with the strain of holding back whines. Normally, you’d be so in your head about the exposing condition you’re in, but at this point you’re too wound up to care, Eddie’s tongue against the beating heart of you coaxing that tightness in your stomach closer and closer to snapping.

His nails bite in where his hands span the width of your thighs, holding you against his mouth even as your legs tremble and hips twist jerkily with each sweep of his tongue; Eddie gives one last suck to your clit then follows the line of your cunt down, down with his tongue to prod at your sodden entrance.

When his tongue slides into you with a wet squelch, obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room, you both moan in tandem- your hand in his hair tightens to near-brutal, and the bed underneath you both tremors with the jolt of Eddie’s hips rutting into the mattress.

He sets a steady pace with his tongue, fucking it in and out of you as his nose nudges against your clit. That coil in your stomach is starting to make all your muscles tense up, your thighs locking Eddie in place (who seems to only be spurred on with each constriction of your body).

“Gonna come?” The lower half of his face is coated in your slick as he takes a brief pause to kiss at your inner thigh, one hand coming to rest on your tummy, pinning you down. “C’mon, baby. Let me see it.”

Your body obeys, tension snapping as his mouth returns to your cunt, a high whine of “Eddie Eddie Eddie” that you don’t bother to hide this time loosening from your throat as everything around you bursts and crashes into orgasm.

Toes curling against Eddie’s lower back, cunt spasming around his tongue, Eddie fucks you through it and then some, his own hips mindlessly grinding down as your release triggers his own, spilling warm into his boxers while your high spirals out.

When the spams of your pleasure turn over into aftershocks, Eddie comes up for air, pressing one last kiss to your overstimulated cunt before crawling up your body to lie on top with his head in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck,” you say aloud to the ceiling, breathless, arms automatically encircling the boy. “Holy shit.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie’s breath cools over the sticky patch he kissed into your skin, his mouth still wet with your release. He gathers enough energy to plant his elbows on either side of your head, looking down at you, suddenly serious. “So um… how often do you get ovi- ovel… like this? Once a year or somethin’?”

The laugh shakes out of your chest before you can stop it; you reach up to tuck Eddie’s curls behind his ears, your previous bashfulness having been tongue-fucked out of you.

“Eddie Munson, do I have news for you.”

#lu’s anons #e.m. thots from lu #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x inexperienced!reader #eddie munson x you

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phas3d · 8 months

Text

Crushing on You || Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: none

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: cute little loser things they do because they’re so down bad for you. inspired by the fucking masterpiece that is ONE DAY ONE NIGHTTTT AHHHHHH by bts ofc. some of these might be creepy but I think they’re cute

DRACO MALFOY

It’s always an enemies to lovers for him, he literally cannot get crushes on someone unless he hates their guts

Probably cause he got daddy issue but meh, we’re not solving that today

He HATED your guts, he has literally thought of getting a hit-man on you before

You’re his rival in every single aspect, even more than Harry is

Academics, you’re better

Athletics, you’re better

Clubs and community, you’re WAY better

He hates you and makes fun of you every single day and time he gets the chance

Even worse, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all come to defend you which makes him even more mad

But overtime, his aggressive staring and cursing under his breath turned into admiration

It all started when one day during Quidditch practice, some annoying 3rd year thought it would funny to mess with Draco’s broom

He ended up malfunctioning during practice, almost speeding into the walls of the school at astounding speeds

But luckily, you came just in time and yanked him off his broom, letting his broon get destroyed into the castle. But he was unharmed and was wrapped securely in your arms

From then on, he’s had a huge crush on you and all of his hatred turned into admiration

His aggressive stares were a bit softer and his insults had a hidden compliment in it

Everyone thinks that maybe he just feels bad and is finally regretting how rude he’s been to you, which is kinda true

He’s always watching over you, kinda like a stalker (because he is one)

He learns your daily routine, your favorite foods, clothing brands, makeup products, skincare routine, everything

Goes as far to hire and pay different students to watch after you if he’s busy

Somehow, you never notice and just think that people are nosy

He takes his research really far though, like straight up creepy

Draco gets his hands on all of your medical history, every single thing about you

He learns what your allergic too, what your rising sign is, how much you weigh at every check up

When he finds out that you’re anemic, he crushes up pills and sneakily adds it to your food to make sure you’re healthy

Does this with other things too, like Vitamin C, iron pills, etc etc etc

But in the end, it helps you a lot and makes you feel much better

And it makes him happy to know that you’re better because of him

One day, you get asked out by none other than Harry Potter

Instantly, Draco is enraged and everything in his sight is going to die a painful death

He feels betrayed by you despite treating you like utter shit for so many years

Not the mention he’s also gotten with maybe two or three other girls

He plans to ruin your date and he succeed

He burns Harry’s outfit, posses someone to spill hot tea on you, and even goes as far to sneak food you’re allergic to into your food

The date ends with you crying back to your dorm and Harry beating himself up

From this, Draco is happy and prepares to come and play knight-in-shining armor for you

But once again, he sees Harry comforting you and giving you a tight hug

Draco is literally about to kill Harry for this, cause ain’t no way he just did ALL of that for Harry to swoop in again

“You can’t take her! I loved her first! I love her more than your stupid four-eyed could ever!” He shouts at Harry

So yeah…. He just confessed out of rage

TOM RIDDLE

Never ever EVER will he get caught lacking for someone

This man keeps all of his lovey dovey feelings to himself, bro literally got a diary 😭

But when he saw you, and just like all of those dumb movies he’s seen, he was instantly love struck by you

He never knew that this was possible, he’s instantly disgusted with himself and does his best to the diminish the crush

But it won’t go away… you’re just perfect in every way

He’s so frustrated that he genuinely thinks of just killing you

But, thank GOD, he decides to not kill you and just become a stalker 😊

He finds out your entire schedule and walking path just so he can get small glimpses of you

Whenever you see him or make eye contact with him, he looks at you like you killed his entire family and he’s coming for revenge

But he’s actually drooling and hearing the most beautiful classical piano in the background

He sees you as a god/goddess that blessed him with your presence

Tom has always seen himself as the chosen one, the one given enough power to destroy and fix the world

And he sees you as his future Queen to the brand new world he will make :) kinda romanticccc

Finds all of your social media and stalks it for hours

He makes one of those fake burner accounts that looks like a bot

So when he follows you, you think nothing of it

But in reality, he’s watching you in depth

Bro finds your SPOTIFY and YOUR AO3 ACCOUNT… That’s how crazy he is

He made an entire playlist of every song you’ve ever posted and mentioned

He listens to it daily :)

Honestly, he’s just like me fr

He’s just a lil crazy and wants to know EVERYTHING about you

If you ever come up to him or are assigned partners, oh my god he’s gonna act so cold

Acts like he hates your guts and despises your existence

But in reality, he’s gonna thank every single religious figure out there for blessing him with allowing him to be in your space

MATTHEO RIDDLE

When he first saw you, he thought you were fine as hell

He was just trying to get into your pants

But when he tried to make a move, you scoffed and shoved him away

Instantly, he was attracted to you

He’s only been rejected like twice, and both times it ended with them begging on their knees for him

He was about to do the exact same thing to you

Unlike the others, he’s the only one that shows it and actively makes a move

Constantly flirts with you, no matter the time or day

Kinda like Filipino courtingggg 🤭

Finds all of your classes and walks you to all of them

Even though you want to walk with your friends, he won’t let you and always pulls you away from them

He skips his classes constantly just so he can be with you and flirt with you more

Even if you keep rejecting him or even slap him, he won’t stop. He loves when girls play hard to get

Sends you flowers, they’re a little bit ugly, but it’s the thought that counts

Sends you chocolates and stuffed animals to the point where a whole section of your dorm is dedicated to the pile of 65 stuffed animals you’ve received

He can’t really write poems or love songs, but he sends you little drawings that are barely readable

He makes little stick figures to represent you guys, one that’s super tall with abs (him) and another one that has hair and a triangle body (you)

Although you can barely understand his chicken scratch drawings, it makes you giggle from how stupid they are

Sometimes it’s him fighting off dragons, or you drowning and he saves you, or him being a rich king and you’re his queen

Never ever gives up on you, no matter what

Will fight off every single competition he has, he doesn’t care if they end up paralyzed

One time, someone older than you guys by one year tried to ask you out

Because he was a grade above you guys, he thought Mattheo wouldn’t fight him

But nopppeeee he was dead wrong, Mattheo sent him to the hospital wing repeatedly for a whole month

Even though the poor guy learned his lesson, Mattheo was mad that not only did he have the balls to ask you out but to also doubt Mattheo’s strength

Surprisingly, he cares a lot towards your friends as well and never leaves him out of the picture which is sweet

If you get a 100 roses from him (an almost daily occurrence), then he’ll get your best friends a small bouquet of 10-12 roses in return

If you get a huge chocolate box of the most expensive chocolates, then your friends get a small little wrapped box of a few chocolates

It’s really sweet and it makes your friends see that he’s actually pretty cool and sweet

Definitely goes around and lies to people by saying you two are dating

Eventually, everyone is fucking tired of you guys and basically sees you as a couple

One day, your friends say they’re gonna have a girls day and ask you to meet them at this nice restaurant

But surprise! The girls lied, you got all dressed up for nothing :(

But surprise again! Mattheo pops up. Your friends set you up with him to help you two to finally start dating

THEODORE NOTT

He’s had plenty of one night stands, weird situation-ships, and more but with you, he’s never had that

You’ve been his friend for ages, before he got hot and ripped

And he appreciated you a lot for that, he felt like he could finally be himself with someone

Over the years, he’s slowly gotten more and more comfortable with you

When he was going to bed, he thought to himself “I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)”

He smiled as he said that, about to sleep until his eyes shot wide open as he repeated what he said

“I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)??!???!!?”

When he realized he likes you, he’s a complete idiot

Normally with girls, he’s super smooth and charismatic - but that’s only because he’s trying to get into their pants

With you, you knew all his tactics and how awful of a person he can and HAS been over the years

You’ve seen him cheat, yell, and sometimes be borderline abusive to his past girlfriends

He starts to worry about how you perceive him and wants to make sure he seems like a good option

He becomes so awkward around you, it’s painful

Starts to be way nicer to you than he ever has been and becomes a lot more chivalrous

He takes off his jacket and shields you from rain, if anyone teases you he’ll get really defensive, he spoon feeds you at times, always pays for your lunch and dinner

Even goes as far as to take you on shopping sprees with no limit - even if you say no he’ll just keep track of everything you look at and buy it for you

Gets you flowers every week and always excuses it as “this is what best friends always do”

You two are basically dating… just without an official title

He’s TERRIFIEDDDD to ask, he’s literally had break downs over his fear of you rejecting him

Please just confess to him yourself, I’m not sure when he’ll get the balls and confidence to do it

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

He’s the most sane out of all of them all 😭

Literally the one line from Taylor Swift, “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” AHAAAAHHHHH

He gets a crush on you after you two are partnered for a long term project

Loves how smart and dedicated you are, it inspires him to be the same way

Sometimes he purposely acts dumb just so that you’ll help him

Always pays attention to the small details and everything you do

Spoils you ROTTEN omg

Will take you out to go shopping with him and he whips out his black card and casually drops 25k just on clothes and makeup for you

He loves the feeling of spoiling you, makes him feel like your future husband

Praises you for everything, even the bare minimum

“Woah! I like your outfit!” And you’re literally wearing the required school uniform

He wants to date you and call you his own, but he knows he’s a fuck boy deep down

Every time he’s dated a girl, he’s ended up breaking up with them because he can’t commit or just straight up cheating on them

He’s very confident that he could change and be better, but he wants to be perfect before he dares you

Because he sees you as perfect :”) and you only deserve the best

You help motivate him to become better, even though you didn’t know you did

Starts going to the gym, works harder in school, tries to be more nice to everyone

Eventually, he’ll get the guts to ask you out for the Yule ball but he’ll keep saying you’re going as “friends”

But one day you’ll overhear him and his group talking about how fat of a crush he has on you

They all tease him and call him a simp, loverboy, everything

But when he sees that you’ve been listening the entire time, he’s so reddddd

Tries to hide his face and runs away, he avoids you for a little bit

He’s so so so scared of not being good enough or even ruining his relationship with you

He’d genuinely be okay with just being your best friend for all his life whilst loving you, even though it would hurt him so badly

Please just accept this boy 🙏 tell this man he’s enough and that you love him

read more here! :D

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disneyprincemuke · 8 months

Text

who the hell is rocky? * fem!driver

who the hell does sebastian keep calling 'rocky'?

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: here ok now she has a nICKNAME OK IT'S ROCKY IT'S ROCKY OK BECAUSE SHE LIKES ROCKY ROAD ICE CREAM NOW

(series masterlist)

she presses her lips together, turning the knob and peeking in. “seb,” she whispers into the room. “are you in here?”

sebastian raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. “yeah, why?”

“great, so i wouldn’t feel as bad sneaking in here.” she pushes the door open and quickly shuts the door behind her. she beams at him, shoving her hands into her jacket. “hi!”

he looks up at her, head still hung low from the papers he was looking at. “what do you want?”

“oh, we’re playing hide and seek with jack and laura,” she grins, walking over to the empty seat at the his table. she sits down and tucks her legs under her body. “and oscar, logan, mick… liam… i’m not in the mood to be found so soon.”

“so you’re hiding here? in my office?” sebastian raises an eyebrow, looking back down at his papers. “isn’t that cheating?”

“they didn’t specify where i couldn’t hide.” she puts her palms down against his table with a small grin. she extends her neck a little bit. “what are you doing?”

he flips the papers towards his body, shielding its contents away from her. “i’m looking at data. you’re not a cheater — go play hide and seek properly.”

she shrugs nonchalantly. “i’m the oldest child. of course, i bend the rules to make sure i win.”

“really? oscar and logan let you do that growing up while they were around?”

“no, they put a stop to that when i turned 14,” she presses her lips together and rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “but they can’t erase that trait when i spent my whole life polishing it.”

sebastian blinks. “seriously?”

“yeah,” she nods excitedly. “how do you think i got this scar above my brow?”

“from falling down.”

“no, ciara and i fought cause i changed the rules at the last second so that i’d win and then she attacked me.” she lets a moment pass when sebastian finally lifts his head to stare at her. “we were playing uno — it’s a very intense game.”

he furrows his eyebrows. “get out of my office, rocky!”

sebastian approaches the two hunched over in the corner. “have you guys seen rocky?”

logan lifts his head. “rocky? who the hell is that?”

“hey, what are you guys doing?” they turn around, seeing the younger driver with an ice cream pint in her hand with mick trailing behind her.

“i told you to stop eating ice cream, god damn it!” sebastian screams, hands darting forward to grab the pint from her.

“hey, it’s the lactose intolerant one!” she shrieks, running to hide behind mick. the pint pokes out of the side towards logan. “want some?”

logan nods, taking the pint from her. “yeah, sure.”

“wait,” oscar speaks up, waving his arms in the air. “seriously, who is rocky?”

“this dumb ass,” sebastian scoffs, gesturing at the girl now eating her ice cream again. “all she ever eats is rocky road! hence, rocky! breakfast is rocky road, lunch is rocky road—”

“dinner is rocky road,” she mocks, stabbing her spoon into her pint. “it’s okay that i’m eating this because mick got me the no milk version!”

“that doesn’t even make sense! chocolate has milk in it! so does ice cream! do you know what ice cream is made out of?”

mick sighs. “she wouldn’t stop bugging me for ice cream, okay?”

logan laughs, throwing his head back. he clasps his hands together, “tomorrow we’ll teach you how to say ‘no’ to rocky. it took us a long time to figure it out too.”

“really? that’s just what everyone is gonna call me now?” she tilts her head, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “we spend our whole lives without giving me a nickname and seb just comes along and calls me ‘rocky’ and everyone is just gonna ride along with that?”

“yeah, you can say that,” oscar nods with a smile. “it’s fitting, anyway. you would die for rocky road ice cream… right?”

“fair argument.”

“max,” oscar whispers. “have you seen rocky?”

max raises an eyebrow, pausing his conversation with charles. he tilts his head. “yeah, she’s in my garage.”

oscar throws his head back, blinking blankly at the older driver. “what would rocky be doing in your garage?”

“what do you mean? she’s part of my team,” max trails off in confusion, lips pursed in confusion. he glances at charles next to him, who simply shrugs and looks at oscar as well.

“no, she’s not. what business would she have being in your garage?” oscar raises an eyebrow. “unless you guys are scouting her for the future?”

“what? we’ve had rocky on the team for months.”

“she wouldn’t do that. she doesn’t like red bull.”

“red bull literally created her.”

“no they didn’t.”

charles furrows his eyebrows, looking between both of them. “see, i don’t think you guys are talking about the same thing.”

max points at oscar. “what are you talking about?”

“who are you talking about?”

“my race car? her name is rocky.”

oscar’s frustration slowly washes away as realisation dawns over him. he’d completely forgotten that max named his car. he laughs slightly. “right! sorry, mate. i was talking about (y/n),” he explains. “rocky.”

max raises an eyebrow. “who passed the bill to call her that?”

“seb.”

“oh, seb is good with nicknames!” charles beams, patting oscar’s shoulder. he presses his lips together. “why rocky though? that doesn’t really…”

“she eats a lot of rocky road ice cream,” oscar smiles. “therefore, the nickname.”

max frowns. “she’s got the same name as my car… that’s not… that will be confusing.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @darleneslane @inejismywife @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

#logan sargeant x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #max verstappen x reader #mick schumacher x reader #oscar piastri x reader #fem!driver #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

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6okuto · 2 years

Text

THEIR REACTION TO YOU DRESSING UP

gn!reader | suggestive, mild swearing.

matsukawa, atsumu, hinata, kuroo, suna, osamu, sakusa, iwaizumi, tsukishima

MATSUKAWA’s sprawled on the couch as he waits for you to show him the new outfit you bought. you had excitedly texted him before coming home, hiding the contents of your bag as you ran to change. it’s been a few minutes when he teasingly calls out, “you okay in there, babe? need help?” “no, actually i don’t, issei,” you reply, walking in. issei does a double take, mouth dropping a little. “goddamn.” the speed he gets up is almost comical. you do a slow turn, smoothing out the fabric that seems to hug you in the most perfect way. “i don’t know when i’m gonna wear this, but it’s really nice, right?” “really fuckin' nice,” he agrees, grinning. “respectfully and in love with you, i humbly ask, do you want to kiss and or make out with me right now?”

ATSUMU freezes when you walk into the bedroom. you do a quick spin and smile. “what do you think?” his eyes are wide, gaze fixated on you. “am i dead? are you an angel here to take me away?” he finally asks. you snort and make your way over, reaching to fix the collar of his shirt. “i’m gonna take that as a ‘you look good, babe,’ then.” “just good? baby, i think i’m sweating. maybe cryin’ a little,” he continues, half-joking. “‘tsumu—” atsumu shakes his head. “uh-uh, don’t say my name, i might explode.” you laugh at your boyfriend, face warm from his praise; his own flustered state keeps him from noticing yours. he shakes his head again, as if to get out of a haze. “you know what, let’s go. yeah, let’s go now before i keep you all t’myself. we’re gonna knock ‘em dead.”

HINATA spits out his drink and chokes a little. “oh my–oh my, god, sorry, i—” “shoyo?” you speed over, concerned but also trying not to laugh. “are you okay?” “huh? yeah? i’m so fine,” he says unconvincingly. his face is flushed when he looks at you, whether from the choking, embarrassment, or your outfit, you’re not too sure. then, as if he wasn’t choking a few seconds earlier, he starts showering you in compliments. “anyways, you look great, babe. like, like it really screams 'you,' you know? i bet everyone’s gonna be jealous of me.” “oh really? of you?” shoyo tilts his head, as if you asked a silly question. “well, yeah? 'cause you look this good and i get to date you.”

KUROO almost drops his keys walking through the front door. “tetsu, you’re back early.” “god, please don’t tell me i forgot about a super important event tonight.” he sounds both panicked and in awe, mind in shambles at the sight of you. you open your mouth to speak, but tetsuro's faster. “wait, don’t tell me,”—he paces toward you—“before i die, i want you to know you look incredible, and i’ll gladly be your poorly-dressed accessory for the night.” there’s a joking strain to his voice, and he sniffs before pressing his cheek to your head. “tetsu.” you laugh and pat his back. “there’s nothing happening, i just bought a new outfit and wanted to try it on.” he lets out a relieved noise between a sigh and groan then moves to look at you, now able to fully appreciate the sight. “thank god. i’m going to count that as the second win of the night then, 'cause seriously, you look so good right now.”

SUNA snakes his arm around your waist and kisses your temple. “hi, babe.” “rin! when did you get here?” “a couple of minutes ago. beelined for you after ‘tsumu shoved a drink in my hand.” you laugh and he smiles before finally registering what you’re wearing. he takes a sip from his drink at the same time his eyes scan over the new look. “this what you bought on saturday?” “hm? yeah, it’s really nice, right?” rin looks between you and his drink. “if i didn’t have manners, i would’ve thrown this glass and kissed you.” amused, you jokingly hit his stomach. “why can’t you compliment me like a normal person?” rin takes no offense, instead maneuvering so he can hold his drink while wrapping his other arm around you. he squeezes you, grinning when you yelp. “‘one, cause you look hot, and two, where’s the fun in that?”

OSAMU lets out a low whistle as you walk into the living room, eyes scanning you up and down. he gets up from the couch, and places his hands on your hips. “y’sure you have to go out tonight?” “'samu.” he laughs at your pointed look and puts his hands up in surrender. “i’m kidding, hon. you look stunning, though.” rolling your eyes, you thank him. “c’mon, i’m gonna be late if we don’t go now.” you walk to the door, but osamu thinks back to the weather forecast for the evening. “you aren’t bringin’ a jacket?” “hm? nah, we’re gonna be inside.” putting on your shoes, you respond without looking, and are surprised by the weight that suddenly covers your shoulders. you know osamu's favourite jacket from anywhere, and you let him shift it to cover you. he leans over to kiss your temple and mumbles in your ear, “now you’ll be warm and everyone will remember we’re dating.”

SAKUSA’s fingers slip from his cuff button again, earning a huff and frown from him. “‘omi, are you ready?” “yeah, can you just help me w—” he turns to the sound of your voice and pauses. the new outfit you told him about makes his heart skip a beat, and he almost forgets about his own suit predicament. “with what? oh, the button?” you make your way over to help, kiyoomi staring the entire time. “there ya go.” “you look incredible,” is the first thing he says instead of thank you. it catches you off-guard, “huh? oh. i—thank you. you look very handsome.” there’s a beat of silence as kiyomi weighs the pros and cons of going out or staying home. you have to stop yourself from laughing when he asks with a straight face, “completely related, am i allowed to be mean if anyone tries to flirt with you?”

IWAIZUMI looks up when he hears the changing room door open. you’re fixing the waist of your outfit, and don’t notice the way his eyes widen. he whispers under his breath, “holy fuck.” “haji, do you think it’s too much for the dinner? i know it’s ‘just your old teammates’ but, like, i want to look good,” you explain. his gaze softens and he clears his throat before standing. “no, it’s perfect. you look…you look perfect.” you smile at him and it’s all he can do to stop himself from covering his face and groaning. “oikawa’s going to say something about you looking better than me, and i won’t even be able to disagree.” the sound of your laughter fills the air and hajime huffs a laugh at himself. “well, we better get something just as good for you then.”

TSUKISHIMA’s not great with compliments, and he always wants to kick himself in the ass for it when it comes to you. you look at him standing behind you in the mirror. “i think this is the one. what do you think, kei?” biting his lip, he looks to the side and clears his throat. “it looks good.” he doesn’t have to look to feel you staring at him. “you sure? you don’t think it’s missing something?” kei takes a second to try thinking of a response, then he glances at your wary expression and lets out a breath. “no, i promise. you look great, and this is the best thing you could have chosen.” you smile at yourself, and his gaze softens a fraction before he’s back to being tsukishima—“you ready? because we’re going to be late if we keep standing here, and the group chat’s about to blow up our phones.”

🏷️ | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #matsukawa x reader #atsumu x reader #hinata x reader #kuroo x reader #suna x reader #osamu x reader #sakusa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #tsukishima x reader #x reader

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respondedinkind · 10 months

Text

Plotted starter for @mehrere-musen | MCU Verse

When Ka'anh awakes, the first thing he sees is a planet, filled with blue and greens and browns, clouds scattered along the surface. He also realizes that the whole of his shuttle seems to be offline; No lights are on besides the dull red hue of what indicates an emergency situation. He hurts, badly so, and groans out in pain as he tries to get back onto his feet, tries to---

The shuttle's pulled toward the planet, he realizes, just as he tries to reach a few buttons with his bloody fingers. He can't even stand, he just lies there, with his upper half resting against the seat, arm outstretched in an attempt to fix what could be broken. Ka'anh hisses, bares his teeth, grunts as another wave of pain pushes through him while he tries to stand again - but then the shuttle shakes; Gravitation has finally wrapped itself around his vessel in full, and now the descent upon the foreign planet is sped up with each second that passes.

This will become a hell of a ride, he knows. There's nothing he can do besides holding onto something, pushing himself against a nearby wall, away from anything that could fall down onto him as the shuttle proceeds to fly through the thick atmosphere. It's probably getting too hot as well, with all the shields being offline, unable to protect the shell from the rough treatment of the sudden friction it receives.

The fall itself sends a stomach tumbling and Ka'anh grits his teeth, squeezes his eyes shut, hoping that it will soon be over and that he will survive the impact thats about to come.

He doesn't want to die like this. Not after having managed to flee from his own planet, then getting sucked into what had looked like an opening within the Universe itself, just to be thrown down onto another world he's unfamilair with---

He's afraid, that's the last thing he feels before everything becomes dark and his senses vanish from existence, together with his consciousness.

...

When he awakes again, he's unsure if he's even alive, still.

He's lying on his stomach, outside of his shuttle, with his face buried in dry soil; With every intake of air he inhales some of it, which causes Ka'anh to cough and gasp for oxygen, so he does, almost dry-heaving from the pain it causes him.

He blinks, lifts his head somewhat and looks at a blurry picture in front of him - a mass of gray, perhaps it's his shuttle, parts of it burning and smoke rising into the air. He cannot see clearly, he doesn't hear much, and the pain he's in is excruciating. He's surely broken his right leg, his hip even, because he cannot feel it - his rattling breath tells him at least one broken rip has broken the tissue of his lung, and judged by how dizzy he feels, he must be suffering from what could be a rather serious brain-injury.

But, Ka'anh's alive. he's still here, even though he's just crashed down onto this foreign planet.

A grunt leaves him and he closes his eyes, then inhales as much as he can before he tries to push himself up onto all-fours. There's blood soaked into the dirt beneath him and one of his arms is definitely broken, next to the right leg that won't cooperate... but somehow he keeps himself in this all-fours-position, swallowing down the taste of copper and nausea he feels.

Fuck. Fuck - he needs to get to his shuttle, find the medkit in there---...

#mehrere-musen #Verse -> MCU #(I hope this is ok! If you need me to change anything let me know!)

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azulsluver · 1 month

Note

Ur bully au is so good I could slurp it up but it got me wondering

How would all the students react to the reader just. trying to kill themselves because of the endless torment? would they keep harassing? would they say something about it? or would they tone it down? I must know because If I was in that situation i know damn well unaliving myself would be the first option

There’s more than one asking but ima just get this over with

tw. yandere, attempted suicide, suicide, cutting, bully!characters, mentioned torture, humiliation, blood, slight gore, neglection, fucked up reader (deadass).

Here are some thoughts and reactions bellow!

When asking, what role does this character do in this so called ‘bully!au’? You have to look at a deeper perspective of how each person behaves, what the intention is, and how it’s done.

So when the subject of suicide is involved it can get confusing depending on what caused it. Self worth is hinted in the reader, insecurities are brought and laughed at because it needs to hit a spot. Because YOU have feelings, watching it be stripped by people in far greater power than you, people with money, influence, and within number. Standing up to a bully is difficult, the struggles you go through should’ve been realistic.

When push comes to shove, they’re not all coming for you. If you enjoy the idea of every character ruining your life— that’s fine— but, it’s usually one or three. I think it’s childish, when I first made this AU, some sort of amusement in finding hurt but comfort when writing, they’re not trying to kill you, you know. You just catch their eye, more than they could like. Rejection is one thing, but another is a fair game of a sadistic approach. Whether they verbally or physically abuse you is up to place bets on what kills you.

For NRC years, yes, they constantly nagged and followed you around. But the times they would actively seek you out would be less than you think, the focus on bullying would be isolation. They don’t have to hurt you everyday. Some time for yourself to heal and think over your situation. What would you eat? Would they play nice and ignore you for tonight? Did your look piss off someone from afar? Let them cheat off you! Don’t be such a bore, it’ll all go back to just you and Grim.

If you picked up self harming, it’s noticeable. Hiding it is nearly impossible. They grab and bite at you already so what makes you think hiding was a good idea? It’s nasty and unplanned, miss them? Miss their touch that you havta recreate it? It’s horrible to mention, but caring really depends on who calls you out.

I can say you like it. Or you fucking hate it. You hate, hateee, how they treat you. You crawl on all fours for them to laugh and pat your head, do a dare and lick off from their hand but money is involved.

What did you do, was it simple, messy, perfect headshot if you will. If your need to die was to simply hurt them in any way— it might work. Poor them, they can’t imagine being away from you for too long. Some are more uninterested than the others. Who gives a shit you died? Whoever had the luck of finding you, dead or in the act, serves a purpose of letting you live or die. Cruel as they may be, you tug at a couple of heart strings.

Let’s say it was an attempt:

Sprang into action, either holding you down or taking whatever object you’re using to harm yourself. They’re gonna make sure this doesn’t happen again, you gave them quite the spook. Have fun being watched 24/7, and if they couldn’t, everything will be baby proofed for your safety, isn’t that nice, they care. Thrash all you want, screaming and crying won’t get you anywhere, but they’ll bite their tongue once and a while to prevent this from happening.

Trey, Riddle, Azul, Vil, Jack, Deuce, Sebek,

Oohh…he’s so sorry. Please forgive him, crying on his knees and rubbing his head against your chest. It doesn’t matter if the blood stains his clothes, you nearly died and he feels awful. He promises so many times for harm to look the other way, twisted, yet unavoidable. Trapped in a tight, monitored schedule were his scent and voice is all you’ll ever need. But at least there’s a change of heart, your health is improving and that’s all that matters to him, but speak to him, he wants to hear you.

Silver, Malleus, Kalim

Should he have stopped you, but what good will it do for him? Frozen in the moment, their bodies do the thinking, rational, to prevent you from escaping them. You’re funny, reaaal funny, got good jokes at time. But, he’s not really laughing. A little, but it’s hysterically funny and scary. Because he’s still so rough, even when he apologizes yet calls you stupid, his fingers hurt you more than whatever you had planned, gripping, as if you really died.

Jamil, Ace, Cater, Ruggie, Leona, Idia, Floyd, Epel

Does it hurt? Did you find your ulna? Was the rope too tight? It feels like he’s only here to see the end credits, the finale. The sick fuck is smiling too, gross. Giving up just leaves you with him by your side, pressing it deeper to help you get the job done…just kidding! That was quite a show you put on, this is why he likes you. Being responsible of another’s cause of death isn’t ideal, so he’ll try to watch you as of now.

Lilia, Rook, Jade

From that list alone you can guess who’s to mourn, and who savors what is left. Death is inevitable. Everyone dies one way.

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 month

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Listen. Listen. Hear me out.

I beg you, almighty gator—Gambit(Remy LeBeau) x M/FTM reader(ur choice i like both :)) where reader is a mutant that has some kind of power that has to do with sea monsters, and loves tarot cards so Remy does card tricks for him while reader is in a pool.

When I was a kid I called Gambit “Magic Man” and I had to hold myself back from screaming that in the theater when I was watching D&W a few days ago and revived my non-understandable fanboying of him. (Sorry for the rant)

You can change the fic anyway you want, I’ve got no problem as long as Remy is as silly as he normally is(can evolve into smut or whatever cause I’m freaky like that 😏)

Gracias Gator!!

Remy Lebeau x mutant male reader

Headcanons

I love Remy SO much its insane. I can’t write accents, so it’s there in spirit. Haven’t read the comics, so im basing this off of is wiki. no smut but i had fun writing this.

i loved seeing Remy in the movie, i just wish theyd given him his eyes, you know?

How you two met can be a mixed bag. Maybe you met in the x-men, maybe you met in the thieves guild before every crossing paths with the x-men as a whole, or maybe somewhere completely third. I enjoy the idea of the thieves guild though, so ill go with that.

You both had different reasons for joining or doing what you do, but being two mutants amongst a lot of other non-mutants meant you felt some kind of kinship with each other, even if you didn’t really get along in the beginning.

Especially with you two being visibly mutants. With Remy’s eyes and you having scales on different areas of your body, gills on your sides, what others would refer to as “monster eyes”, so on and so forth.

This resulted in you two preferring to work together when you got the chance, you trained together, ate together, slept together (not like that), so on and so forth. It also meant you two got a very deep understanding of each other over time.

It also meant that Remy got to see just how stupidly powerful you were. In the beginning you just thought your powers involved controlling water and being able to breath underwater. Who’d have thought you could do crazy stuff like controlling typhoons, rain, lightning, so on and so forth, like some kind of biblical being.

This was how you gained the name leviathan. You didn’t really like the name in the beginning, since you hadn’t really picked it yourself and it felt almost insulting with your appearance. But Remy was so supportive you ended up coming to like it, even though it took a long time.

In the end you two split apart as you leave the guild, going your separate ways but still keeping in contact in small but safe ways. With a power like yours it was hard to stay under the radar, and many wanted you on their side, even if it meant by force.

Time passes, Remy joins the x-men, you travel on your own and discover yourself and the world. Remy gets kicked out of the x-men when they learn of his past, you two meet up again and travel together for a while.

Its during this gap in Remy’s place with the x-men that your relationship became something more. He tells you about Rogue, and how he at first thought he loved her, only to realize what he felt for her wasn’t near as strong as what he felt for you.

And of course, during this confession, Remy tries to lay on the charm and act like it isn’t a big deal, but you can easily see through him and notice how anxious he is about it. in the end you just have to grab him and kiss him to shut him up, which yes, does shut him up, but also leads to you guys falling back into the water you’d been sitting by when he lunges at you to kiss you again.

Hes a charming guy yes, Remy has such a way with his words, how he carries himself or how he touches you. But underneath all that he also cares so deeply, to the point of being willing to die for you or those he cares about, which makes you lose scales from stress at times.

So, if you place protection spells on him that you got from the deepest part of the sea by the people who have started to worship you like a god, then only you have to know. That Namor guy is pretty swell, when he isn’t being a bit arrogant. He even taught you how to use a spear, so you guys are kinda brothers in spirit now.

At some point Remy does return to the x-men, somewhere you don’t feel ready to join him yet. So, a lot of kisses are shared, and a few tears a shed. And yes, of course you give him jewelry made from your scales. And a dagger made out of your larger teeth when you transform into a more serpentine form, because yes, you can also do that.

Remy doesn’t feel much need to tell the x-men about his relationship. Sure, he keeps flirting but that’s just because that’s how he is. But it never goes further than that. Some of the members that can read minds know about it though, since he thinks about you regularly.

In the end the relationship is exposed when the x-men find themselves in quite the pickle near the ocean. And Remy, knowing he can get them the upper hand, is able to snap one of the sigils you placed on him.

Rip to whoever they were fighting, since the sea lashes out and swallows them whole, followers by a giant feral looking sea serpent, you, rise from the water. Yes, you teleported there. What else were you supposed to do? You thought your boy was in danger!

Cue the x-men just being stunned or confused when Remy calls out the cheesiest pet names, almost kicking his feet in happiness at seeing you. It makes a bit more sense when you transform into a more human form, it still takes some explaining though.

In the end you don’t end up fully joining the x-men. You doing that would place them under a lot more danger than usual, since you had your own enemies and alliances, and you’re pretty sure Namor would get butthurt if you did. But you become something of an ally. Which means you hang out on Krakoa on the regular.

It becomes a very regular sight to see a giant serpent lazily swimming around the island, or resting half on the beach as Remy sits and shows you his different tarot readings. Of course, you also spend time together with you in a more human form, but seeing such a big sea monster also makes any baddies keep a distance.

There are also of course pools set up on the island, not just for you, but they’re accessible for you as well. Remy is regularly seen in the pool with you, or just sitting with his feet in as you two talk or whatever else you guys do.

You end up becoming something of a swim instructor to the youngest mutants, or just those that can’t swim in general. This is something Remy finds extremely entertaining and he’s always teasing you about it. luckily its easy to shut him up with a kiss, or by knocking him into the pool. Or both. He doesn’t mind.

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bensolosbluesaber · 1 year

Text

Nowhere to Run: Part 1 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Hints of suicidal ideation on reader’s part, Fang stuff (Miguel uses fangs on reader), Chasing, Miguel is maybe ooc (I only saw the movie once and was mostly trying to keep from audibly moaning every time he was on-screen), Miguel and reader fight - he does some damage, Poison, Wounds, Not edited (but I will come back for some minor edits later on), Let me know if I missed anything

Summary: After the collapse of your universe, you resort to jumping around the multiverse to survive. Evolution gave you the powers needed to escape your universe. Technology of your own design stopped the glitches. But you haven’t found a way to escape the man relentlessly hunting you across every universe - Spider-Man 2099. ~2,500 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending

A/N: This is for all of us who watched the Nueva York chase scene/train sequence and thought ‘when do I get to be Miles?’ This is dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok - you guys are doing god’s work over there (especially with the captions). There shouldn’t be any spoilers in here beyond what was shown in trailers, but tread as carefully as you feel you need.

EDIT: Part 2

A persistent tingle deep in your mind vibrated madly the closer Spider-Man 2099 was to you. It was your Spidey-sense warning you of danger. For the first few months, you managed to stay several universe’s ahead of the terrifying Spider-Man variant, but after running for months with no one to help you, dodging the Spider-Person in each universe, and growing more exhausted with each portal you opened, 2099 was catching up.

He was catching up quite literally. The man was a few blocks behind you, pursuing you through the streets of a Queens in a universe you had never seen before. Buildings were built into trees. The entire city was a perfect symbiosis between nature and technology. It was beautiful, but there was no time to appreciate it. The time on your wrist ticked down. Seventy-six seconds. Seventy-five.

You shot out another web. It caught a window, and you took a sharp corner then another trying to lose the hunter.

Seventy seconds until you could safely open another portal. Well safe was a relative measure. Ideally you would allow a full day between jumps, but if you only had twelve hours, well then odds of survival rose to about fifty-fifty. Anything less than twelve hours and implosion was basically guaranteed.

Sixty-eight. You extended your legs for more momentum, rolled in the air, shot out two webs and used them to zip forward. Sixty-two. 2099 was fast, faster than you. You didn’t dare to look back to see if he was still in pursuit.

He protected the multiverse, kept it from collapsing in on itself, and you put the entire web of connection at risk just by being alive outside of your universe. You didn’t begrudge 2099 for what he thought he had to do. Maybe it was true that your presence could cause a universe to collapse, but you were careful not to stay for too long, not to interact with the Spider of that universe, not to fight any super-villains. If he could just understand that you were careful, that you didn’t want a multiversal collapse anymore than he did, maybe he would be reasonable.

Then again, maybe not. He was relentless, and from what little you had heard of Spider-Man 2099, he wasn’t one for talk and negotiation.

Fifty-five. You dived down, shot another web, swung again. You could never go back to your world’s boundless emptiness and not another living soul. That thought kept your exhausted muscles working. Fifty. The void was all that remained of your collapsed universe, a void in which you could not die but where no one else could live.

Forty-eight. Forty seven. This block was all future, half-built apartment buildings.

Thirty. You’d long ago lost your suit. All that remained was the mask that obscured your face. You must look ridiculous swinging around in stolen street-clothes: a baggy sweatshirt, leggings, dirty sneakers.

Twenty-one. Nearly there. Just a few-

A solid mass of muscle stole the breath from your lungs and flattened you into a cement wall. Claws shattered the cement beside your head into a fine gray powder. A hand closed around your throat, and you were crushed between the blue and red clad Spider-Man and the wall.

He was pure muscle. This was the closest you’d ever been to 2099, and his sheer size was terrifying. The red lines on his mask narrowed with his eyes as he studied you.

Eighteen. You pushed at his broad chest, struggling desperately to fight him off, but he was enhanced too and probably well-fed and rested - two things you were not.

“Stop fighting me,” 2099 growled into your ear, his voice a deep rumble that you felt in his chest.

“I won’t go back.” You choked out the words while you planted a knee against him and tried to kick him away. Your efforts were utterly useless. Quite literally, you could feel muscles rippling across his chest and arms as he held you against the wall while you trid to wriggle free.

In the corner of your eye, you watched the red numbers tick down. Six. Five. Was it even possible? It had to be.

2099 brought you forward then slammed you into the wall again. The impact made your head spin. The red lines of his mask doubled and tripled. He was trying to get something around your wrist.

“Hold still!”

Two.

With the last vestige of strength left in your body, you brought a hand to his face and shot a wad of webbing at his eyes. He growled and stopped his attempt to hand-cuff you - or whatever he was doing - to wipe the webbing away. For a second he was distracted. You imagined the glowing golden portal. Closed your eyes. Energy sparked in your body, coursed through your veins and arm. You shot a web at the wall behind you. It shimmered gold, dim gold, but still gold.

There was a moment where you thought it hadn't worked. Then the wall crumbled away and you felt wind whip you backward as a bright gold light filled the space. 2099 reached for you, claws extended. Four knife-like talons dug into your shoulder, ripping through the ratty sweater, digging into your skin, and tearing four long bloody stripes into your flesh as the portal drug you away..

You planted both feet on his stomach and kicked him off. A bright red web shot out from 2099’s hand to tangle in a tree. The last thing you saw was 2099 falling then catching himself before you tumbled away from him and toward a new universe.

It was raining on this new Earth. Actually, ‘raining’ was a bit of an understatement. It was absolutely pouring, and you were soaked before you hit the ground. Hard.

You hadn't been as focused as you needed to be, and the portal had opened in the sky and dropped you ten feet to the roof of a towering building in some universe’s version of New York. You couldn’t tear the mask from your face quick enough as you gasped desperately for air. 2099 was strong, and he’d smashed you half a foot into solid cement.

Your ribs ached. So did your head for that matter. But it was the dull ache spreading across your shoulder, down your arm, and seeping through your muscles like liquid fire that really made you afraid.

The gray of your stolen sweater was soaked in crimson blood. Carefully, you pushed the stained fabric over your shoulder.

Shit. Shit!

Beneath the torn fabric, your skin glowed a sickly, dare you say radioactive red - the same red as 2099’s suit. His talons must have been poisoned, and now that poison was making it’s way through your body, causing unknown damage and immense pain. There had to be a lab on this Earth. Right? If you could only get there, you were smart enough to whip up an antidote.

But as you stood, it was obvious that you wouldn’t be going anywhere. The poison was potent and fast-acting. Insanely, you wondered if it was really poison or if you should be calling it venom. It didn’t matter, because a moment after gaining your feet, your legs failed. You careened forward and nearly smashed your head again, only just catching yourself before slowly laying down in the rainwater.

City lights sparkled in the distance and reflected in the puddle forming around your head. Purple and blues and few bright yellows. Not a bad view if this was how you died. If only the poison weren’t so painful. You wanted to scream, but you lacked the strength.

A familiar tingle shot across your spine a second before the bright gold light of a portal obscured the reflection of the city lights. No! He was so close when you jumped universe’s. He must have tracked you; no wonder he hadn't bothered to chase you through the portal.

You scrambled backwards weakly, your feet struggling for purchase on the slick roof as the broad shouldered man appeared. He was wreathed in gold light. You couldn’t jump again, couldn’t even stand, could barely drag your body through the rain as Spider-Man 2099 strode closer.

“Nowhere to run,” he said. His voice was flat, like he took no pleasure in finally having you trapped.

“I won’t go back!” You tried to sound tough, strong, but your voice cracked over the words. “There’s nothing there. I can’t. I’d rather die than- than go back to nothing. 2099, don’t send me back”

Your fingers felt the ledge of the building and empty air beyond it. Poison. Fall. The clawed Spider-Man. A slow descent into madness trapped in the empty and endless remains of your home universe. A fall seemed fastest. But you didn’t want to. You were scared. You didn’t really want to die. Your shoulder throbbed and head filled with fog. The skin was glowing such a bright red you could see it in the corner of your eye.

In the brief moment you hesitated, he was on you. 2099’s red webs wrapped around your chest, and he yanked you forward and away from the ledge. You crumpled at his feet, and he just stared down at you through that mask. His blue and red mask swam in your vision as you stared up at him. Was it the rain that was so cold? Or was it the poison? No, venom. Poison? Venom?

2099’s face got bigger as he knelt beside you.

“What is this?” He pulled at the torn sweater, his gaze falling on the bright red mottling your skin.

Miguel O’Hara had never seen his claws damage anyone like this. There was no venom in them… unless in whatever universe you had come from something about them was venomous. It was possible. His fangs were venomous, that he did know.

Miguel pulled off his mask, the adrenaline of the chase fading while he watched you struggle for life. He’d meant to stop you, take you back to base, figure out where you’d come from… not kill you. He ran his tongue over one of the fangs protruding from his mouth.

The next thing you knew, 2099 was sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap. It might have all been a dream, you couldn’t tell. The lights were so beautiful. Your head lolled to one side, your whole body limp as a ragdoll in his muscular arms. His face filled your vision and blocked out the pretty lights.

He had a strong jawline, dark curls, sharp cheekbones, a broad nose, and were those fangs? And were his eyes glowing red? Yes, two orbs as red as the suit and your poisoned skin shone down at you. He was pretty too. This had to be a dream. The monster chasing you couldn’t be so handsome. You blinked, eyes unfocused. Your Spidey-sense was going wild, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fight. 2099 was warm, and you could go to sleep right here.

He shifted your body again so your side was pressed against his chest. “2099,” you whispered weakly, pathetically.

“I’m sorry for this,” he whispered in that low growl. Now it was tinged with what almost sounded like real regret. “It’s the best I can think of.”

He guided your head to rest in the curve of his shoulder, face turned toward his neck. One hand brushed hair away from your neck, the other wrapped around your waist. His fingers were no longer clawed, and his movements were gentle as he held you close, muscles tensing underneath your body. The expression on his face was tender. It seemed impossible that this was the same man who had made you his prey for months.

“Don’t panic now,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to your neck. “Stay still.”

You were barely aware of what was happening. His lips were warm, then four sharp pricks stung the base of your neck just above your collarbone and the deep poisoned wounds. Panic tried to rise in your throat, but you weren’t conscious enough to really process that a man currently had his fangs sunk into your throat. He drew back and spit out bright red poison, then bit into you again. Then again. And again.

Miguel was exceptionally careful with you, holding you perfectly still and being sure to sink his fangs into the same spot each time so as not to mark your skin any more than necessary.

Slowly, the world began coming back into focus. You were exhausted, but the poison was being was successfully being leeched from your system by his fangs. Brown curls were the first thing you became aware of, then the almost unnatural warmth coming from the man beneath you, then the cold pricks on rain on your back, then... then that something was biting you. Before you could wrench your head back, a large hand cradled the back of your head. You desperately tried to struggle as you realized what this vampiric Spider-Man was doing to you. The muscles in his arm flexed as he held your head still.

2099 pulled his fangs from your neck, spit bright red then let go of your head. You sat up quickly. The movement made you dizzy.

“I know you’re scared.” Miguel could see the fear in your eyes. He nodded to your still glowing shoulder. It was dimmer now and hurt less, but it was still obvious poisoned. “But this is working. Let me help you.”

You were looking him right in the eyes, the glowing red eyes, and though you didn’t trust him, you knew instinctively he was right.

“Okay,” you breathed lowly.

You laid your head on his shoulder. Miguel could feel how your whole body trembled, but whether it was from fear or cold or something else entirely he couldn’t tell. When his lips touched your skin you whimpered. That was fear.

Miguel still had one arm around you, but he took your hand in his free one, interlaced your fingers, and squeezed once. Then he sunk his fangs into your neck. It stung a bit but didn’t really hurt. Now that your were conscious, you could feel the poison being drawn toward the spot where his mouth connected to your skin. That didn’t really hurt either. It was like stretching a sore muscle - a satisfying pain that ultimately brought relief.

2099 drew back to spit out his poison. When was the last time you’d touched someone like this? A touch that was more than an accidental brush in the street - or a purposeful one so you could steal someone’s wallet. 2099 was your enemy, your hunter. He was dangerous. But he was saving your life and holding you so tenderly it made your chest ache.

“Once more,” he promised.

His fangs brushed over your skin for the last time. You pulled your hand from his and splayed your fingers across his chest. 2099 brought his now free hand to your poisoned shoulder and pushed the ripped fabric apart.

Miguel watched the last of the poison be pulled from your veins as it filled his mouth. He spit it out then turned back to study how your body was pressed against him.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. Then panic hit and you jerked back, still sitting on his lap but with your face now safely away from his fangs. “You- you’re going to send me back. 2099, please don’t.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? My name is Miguel.”

Miguel. 2099 had a name. Of course he did, but hearing it made him seem so human. And his face was handsome. That was no venom or poison induced hallucination. The man was beautiful.

“And no. Not yet.”

“My universe collapsed. There’s nothing for me to go back to.”

His red eyes softened as they met yours.

“We won’t send you back to an empty universe,” he paused, and one side of his lips twitched up. “You ran because you thought I’d send you back to a void? I see I have quite the reputation.”

Miguel lifted you to your feet easily. He set you on your feet and tapped the watch-like contraption on his wrist. You leaned against his muscled chest for stability. Even without his poison, you were still wounded and tired and malnourished. A portal spiraled out in front of you both.

“You promise not to send me back there?” You looked up at Miguel. He squinted at the portal’s bright light and tugged the mask back over his face.

“Promise.”

To be continued...

Part 2

A/N: Part 2 will be a little time jump, and we’ll actually see Miguel and reader get into a relationship!

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dark-tides-in-faerun · 10 months

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I have poor blood circulation and on cold nights look like a stereotypical vampire. Could you write a humorous, SFW fic of someone seeing Tav's bite marks and pale complexion and telling Astarion to keep his bloodsucking friend on a tight leash? (Tav can be GN or female, either work for me).

Thank you so much for requesting ilysm! So I realized that I’ve never written anyone in a fit of laughter before (possibly for a reason LOL) but here’s my best attempt 🧡

The Vampire in the Tavern

sfw Astarion x you story!

Astarion is angry.

He’d finally managed to get you to himself, a night at last without the others vying for your attention, and some peasant woman keeps looking over at you from the bar, dark eyes sliding up your body in a way that he knows all too well.

It’s possessive. It’s proprietary. And it’s pissing him off.

It had started as just mildly irritating, a glance here and there. But she’d been at it for at least an hour now, and not only does that wretch have no right to eye up his partner, but the implication that she finds you more appealing than she does him is vexing. Extremely vexing. And it doesn’t seem to matter how many times Astarion touches you. How many times his fingers lightly graze the line of your jaw or brush against your hand, that godsforsaken woman won’t stop staring.

And you’ve not noticed, of course. For a formidable warrior and your party’s fearless leader, your lack of awareness of your surroundings is astounding, especially where Astarion is concerned. It’s a trait that exasperates and exhilarates him in equal measure. He could do without it on the battlefield, but in a social setting, he delights in it. The way that just catching your eye can cause words to die on your lips, whatever conversation you’d been in briefly forgotten with just a little glance from him. He slips his hand a little higher up your thigh just to prove it to himself, and when your breath catches in response, he smiles.

If only that bloody woman would stop staring, this had the beginnings of a very promising night indeed.

You clear your throat, cheeks flushed and put both hands on the table, pushing yourself to your feet. Astarion frowns but you shoot him an apologetic smile that’s meant to reassure and it does, sinking through his skin and warming his unbeating heart. It’s adorable.

“I’ll be right back. Nature calls.” You say, by way of explanation, and though you’re trying to keep your voice steady, he can hear your desire, thick and sweet as it sticks in your throat. Delicious.

“I’ll be waiting, my sweet.” He lets the words fall from his lips in a way that’s sultry and intentional, staring up at you from beneath dark eyelashes, and you actually shiver. Astarion grins, delighted with himself, as you flush and turn away. His eyes dart back to the woman, and his grin dies on his lips, mood immediately souring again as her beady little eyes fix on you as you make your way to the bathroom.

The absolute fucking audacity.

You see the cords in her throat working as she swallows, biting her lip, and the she does something even more audacious than simply looking at you. As soon as the latrine door swings shut behind you, she rises to her feet and starts to walk over to the table.

Astarion glares up at her, not bothering to hide his irritation, as she comes to a halt at the edge of the booth. She looks uneasy, calloused fingers pulling at the threads of her road worn shirt, and Astarion swears that if she so much as asks for your name he’s going to rip her throat out where she stands, witnesses be damned.

She hovers for a moment, not speaking, and that serves to only annoy him more.

“Yes?” his voice is tight and cold, and she flinches at the harshness. Good.

“I-I’m sorry to interrupt you sir, but…” She trails off into silence and he grinds his teeth.

“Yes, well how sorry can you truly be, given that you have interrupted me.” He snaps and Astarion frowns as he realises that she’s actually shivering. What in the nine hells. He knows that you’re good looking, but this is a bit much. “Come on then, spit it out. I haven’t got all night.”

“I… I’m sorry, but I couldn’t just – I couldn’t in good conscience sit by.” She says and he raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his drink. A strange way to approach the topic of wanting to snatch his date from him, but at least it was a start. “Sir, you’re in grave danger.”

He splutters, spitting wine over the table in a most undignified way as she stares back at him, wide eyed and fearful.

“I’m sorry, what?” He manages, when he stops choking long enough to speak. His voice is too loud, and the people at the next table look over, but it’s like he’s lost control of his faculties. This is not how this conversation was meant to go.

“It’s true, sir, and there’s not much time. You must leave, now.”

“And might I ask why?” he asks, incredulously, and then immediately recoils in disgust as the woman shoots a fearful glance in the direction of the latrines and slips into the booth beside him.

“That… thing that you’re with.” She whispers, and he has to fight the physical urge to push her away as she grabs his hand between hers. “It’s not a person. It’s a vampire.”

His mouth drops open, but he doesn’t respond. He can’t. The ridiculousness of this situation has actually rendered him speechless. She wasn’t staring at because she fancied you, she was staring because, because-

An uncontrollable feeling rises in his chest.

“You’re not serious.” He gasps, and his voice doesn’t even sound like him.

“Please sir, I’ve seen their kind before and it’s unmistakable. The pallor of the skin, the coldness of the touch.” She’s actually shaking now and it’s too much. He can smell the fear on her, the dampness of her palms as they press against his, the pounding of her blood as it courses through her veins. “They stalk these taverns looking for people to drain dry in alleyways, and that one has its sights set on you, I know it. You have to leave, now!”

He tries not to, he really does.

But he can’t help it.

He fucking cackles in her face.

“Fnnff.” He gasps, grabbing his hand away and covering his mouth, to try and stop the uncontrollable passage of the hysteria that’s flooding from his lips. “Excuse – snnf- e-excuse me.”

“This ain’t no laughing matter, that’s a vampire, in there, I’m sure of it.” The woman cries, wringing her hands, and she looks so earnest that he simply can’t.

“Hah!” He chokes, barely able to draw breath before the next giggle explodes out of him and the woman, for her part, looks appalled.

“I mean it, sir, you’re in danger.” She says, the first hint of annoyance seeping into her voice, and that just sets him off again. He crumples over on the table, hands digging into the wood so hard it buckles beneath his fingers. He almost feels sorry for every time he’s every used Tasha’s hideous laughter on someone, because this is bloody awful. His stomach hurts, tears are leaking from his eyes, but he still can’t stop. Of all the fucking accusations.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the door to the latrines swing open and you step back into the tavern. He turns to get a good look at you. To see the fearsome night stalker in the flesh, the unholy fiend that has this poor woman so terrified, and when he meets your eyes the expression in them is equal parts bemused and concerned and he fucking wheezes.

You, a vampire.

The woman spots you too, and she stumbles to her feet eyes wide and bright with fear. Astarion throws his head back and lets out a guffaw of laughter so loud and embarrassing that it’s almost enough to sober him, but unfortunately, it’s made you, the object of this woman’s abject terror, jump.

He can’t cope.

“Is everything okay?” Your voice is amused, but a little concerned and Astarion can barely nod as he clutches his stomach. He sees the woman’s eyes slide to your throat and the marks of his bite shine accusatorily back at her in the tavern light.

“Vampire.” She breathes, pointing at you, almost falling over herself as she backs away from them and Astarion collapses onto his side, tears streaming down his face as the woman shoots him one final, terrified look and then turns on her heels and flees into the night.

You stare after her, thoroughly confused now and Astarion is barely able to contain himself enough to move over to let you sit down.

“What in the hells was that about?” You ask, as you slip into the recently vacated spot and Astarion swallows down a giggle, barely able to breathe as he grins at you. It would appear his laughter is somewhat infectious, as you let out a little laugh of your own and touch his face with a bemused frown. And it’s only then that Astarion realizes just how much attention his little display has brought to you both. The people of the tavern are all staring at them and it’s not a friendly look. No doubt they heard the word ‘vampire’ and that, finally, is sobering enough for him to get himself under some semblance of self-control.

“That is a story not for here, my blood sucking friend.” He gasps, stifling another giggle as the look on your face is almost enough to set him off again. He nudges you gently out of the booth and grabs your hand, pulling you towards the tavern doors. “But don’t worry, if I manage to survive the journey in your company, I’ll tell you all about it when we get back to camp.”

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate #astarion fanfiction #bg3 astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #my writing

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thenightwolf51 · 1 year

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"Danny was born a Wayne" AU except he's Bruce's grand uncle. The result of a one time drunken affair, shortly before Kenneth Wayne's death, to a young unmarried woman who gave the baby up for adoption.

(Whether the Fenton's, and therefore Amity, were just ahead of their times or the DC timeline is shifted a bit so that DP happens in its cannon era is up to you. Dealers choice, though now that i know about her i just love badass widowed prohibition leader Laura Elizabeth Wayne)

Danny grows up knowing hes adopted and loved by the Fentons but something (dealer's choice) happens and he loses his family and friends (maybe the whole town goes too?). In an attempt to avoid a Dan situation he flees into the Infinite Realm and doesn't stop.

He just wanders, time passes in its weird Realms way, not that Danny truly notices. A protector spirit thats lossed everything it protected. Its a wonder he doesn't fade and he actually might've if it wasn't for his human side.

But its a tug at his core that brings him from his near catatonic wandering. Gone before he can even understand it but enough to shake him back to himself. Enough to know that hes nowhere near ready to go anywhere familiar so he continues on, his wandering no less pointless but at least he's aware again.

What feels like a relatively short time later he gets another tug, and this time he manages to follow it.

He follows it invisibly through a natural portal that drops him somewhere in New Jersey and all the way to a fancy hospital room in the gloomiest city he's ever seen.

In there he sees his half brother Patrick Wayne, though he wont figure out their connection for a few more years, holding little Agatha. She's adorable in her little dress and pigtails and her sweet face causes that familiar tug he recognizes from what must have been six years ago given the girls age.

Then a nurse comes in and hands a little bundle to what must be the mother (whos name i cant find) and Danny takes one look at the little core tugger who brought him here and just melts. Even without knowing yet that this is his last remaining family, his instincts latch on and he vows to protect and care for the Waynes.

And he does.

He finds his forgetful brother's documents and keeps Aggy company when everyone else is busy and soothes baby Thomas so his poor sister-in-law can get some more sleep. He ices fevers and bruised knees and helps on later games of hide and seek.

He very rarely becomes visible and only to the children. His grief over the Fenton's convinces him its better to protect his new family from the shadows.

Danny explores every inch of the manor, including secret passages and an underground cave system. He claims a forgotten room in the back of the attic as his own, which over the years fill up with knickknacks, heirlooms, and pictures of the family. Even a gift or two from Agatha, who hadn't stopped believing in their shadowy guardian like her brother did when Danny felt they were too old to see him without drawing suspicion.

The manor becomes his haunt and he always knows where each family member is within it. And when any guests have some no good intentions.

And when baby Bruce is born tugging at his core and with the bluest little eyes, he welcomes the fussy little thing. And makes sure dear Martha never knows just how fussy baby Bruce really is, otherwise she might've never had a full nights sleep.

Danny blames himself for not being there when Thomas and Martha die, and promises to never leave Bruces side, practically becoming the boy's living shadow. Watching over him as he gets older, secretly aiding him in his training. Danny feels a bit of pride when Bruce takes some inspiration from the old stories Thomas told him of the shadowy Wayne family protector when creating his Batman identity, glad his nephew still remembers him even if he hasn't shown himself since the now young man was six.

Danny continues to protect and care for the family in a variety of ways over the years even as the family grows.

Lightening Alfred's workload, softening Dick's falls, calming Jason's temper both pre and post pit, hiding Tim's coffee when the boy hasn't slept in far too long, providing plenty of shadows and hiding nooks for Cass, helping Damian hide the litter of kittens he found.

And no one seems to know he's there, except maybe Cass and he's pretty sure Alfred has been know since he first started working for the family. No one knows, that is, until Duke Thomas moves in and lookes right at him watching invisibly from the sidelines.

(@omnicrafts @dcxdpdabbles @hdgnj @ailithnight @nelkcats @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 i dont know, the main point of all this is that Danny's been protecting the Wayne family for decades and no one, except maybe Alfred, knew until Duke moved in)

#dpxdc #danny is a Wayne #danny is the wayne family protector spirit #duke can see ghosts #an alternative of this could be the same background but Danny decides to come in as the preCrisis “Uncle Philip” that initially raised Bruc #if so Agatha would definitely vouch for Danny #there's not much on Agatha Wayne but she seems fun

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carmenized-onions · 4 months

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I Want To. | Wellness Check

logline; Such is life, you go from not being needed at The Bear today to being more needed than you ever have been.

[!!!] series history, this is the fourth; First, Second, Third

portion; 4.7k+

possible allergies; a dash of Tony's former paramedic background (and just medical shit in general) in this one, so, a sprinkle of post-trauma stress (and her usual yikes psyche). Mikey comes up a bit, as usual! despite the ops, we ball.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (pretty unavoidably gendered episode, mb non-fem folks)

we'll talk after babe, have a good time w/ this one.

Falling asleep was easy— par for Carmen fighting to keep his 6:30 am alarm on. When he finds out you don’t have a plug on his side of the bed and he has to charge his phone on your side, he turns it off. Cute.

Well, there’s also the part where you had to ask if he was okay because it sounded like he wasn’t breathing and it turns out —He was not breathing— He then pointed out that it sounded like you weren’t breathing —You were not breathing— Both of you thought the sound of your lungs would bother the other, so you opted not to use them at all. Turns out, counterproductive; you notice each other’s absences pretty well.

But besides that, it's easy. Carmen isn’t an awful bedfellow. He’s not super shifty, he doesn’t tug the blanket, he doesn’t roll all the fucking way over to your side, or anything like that. He’s honestly concerningly still. Is he annoyed that you’ve gotta toss and turn a little to get comfortable? Probably. He's probably dreaming of you exploding right now, he’s so annoyed. He didn’t make fun of your ages old build-a-bear plush nor it’s Cubs jersey, so that was nice. Pity, probably.

...If Carmen wasn’t here, he knows he’d be stirring and kicking and probably sleep-walking to his oven to light it on fire. But he is here. Where kicking would hurt. Where stirring would wake you. Where a fire would cause more anxiety than relief because all your plants and projects would die. Where you washed his hair and told him that taking care of people doesn’t feel like a lot of work to you. Was it not a lot of work, to take care of his brother? Was it worth it, to you? Probably not. How could it be?

He wills his body to not fucking move because if he does it's going to ruin everything. He's going to ruin everything.

He wakes up at 6:30 on the dot, alarm or no. He’d be concerned if his body functioned any differently. But he can’t get to his phone while you’re sleeping in his way and you’re so comfortable. You’re clutching a bear that’s undeniably on a losing team and you’re at peace with it. He’s trying not to make a metaphor out of this in his mind; alas, it’s already there. The only thing he can do is go back to sleep and dream about killing the teenage boy in his head before he can escape again and call you pretty.

It's around ten when you wake up, you try not to wake him when you turn to grab your phone, but the split second of motion makes him flinch like he’s about to get jumped. “Relax!” You hiss, but like, soft, whispered. “I’m doin’ the fuckin’ Wordle, not smothering you with a pillow.”

“You do the Wordle?”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“The first fuckin’ thing you do in the morning is the Wordle?”

“And I do the Crossword too, bitch, what of it?”

“…I like Connections.”

“I fuckin' hate Connections.”

“Alright, damn!”

The Chicago accent in both of you is stronger in your rasping morning voices. As is the laughter. You roll onto your stomach to get closer to him and let him see your screen. Neither of you have entirely woken up yet and that means it’s the perfect time to do a puzzle. If you don't focus on this puzzle right now, you fear you will get too comfortable in this idea of domesticity.

“C’s in the right place. Nothin’ else though.”

He’s the one that figures out its Cumin. You pretend not to be mad about this. You’re furious. Of course, it’d be a spice on the day Mr Food Guy sleeps over. Bullshit.

When you finally sit up, stretch, and say, “I’m just gonna shower real quick ‘nd—”

He’s at a breakneck speed to reply, “I’ll make breakfast.”

“Oh, you cook all the fuckin’ time, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

You blink, then shrug, the man likes to cook, c’est la vie. “Who am I to refuse?”

He looks far too happy about this, as though he’s won a lottery. A lottery of manual labour. He rolls out of bed, grabbing his back pack stuffed with yesterday’s clothes before leaving you to your own devices. In a literal sense, too, since you get a text. Ugh.

‘Gigi called in, can you reach?’

You would prefer not to reach, but this is capitalism.

‘When's the shift?’

‘6:30 to 12:30’

Why couldn’t something else at The Bear be fuckin’ broken today?

‘yeah i can reach’

‘that’s my girl, red tops today, see u’

You have also won the lottery of manual labour today. Look at you and Carm, luckiest people alive. Something like that. Alright, go shower and be normal about the fact that there’s a Michelin Star Chef making you breakfast in your kitchen. And he’s prett—

“You make your own bread.”

“I do.” You sit at your own little breakfast nook, waiting to be served. Towel hung around your neck post shower. You’d offer to help, but based on his urgency to cook for you, it’s gonna be a no. Plus, the gift on the table you’ve got for him is going to piss him off enough, can't poke this bear too much. He's already given you a mile. Too many idioms.

“I like to think in another universe I am a homesteader who makes her own soaps and renders tallow n’ shit. But I settle for growing basil and making sourdough in my shitty little Chicago apartment for now.”

“I like your apartment.” He hums, though amused. He turns and sets your plate—the one black plate— in front of you with a small smile. This smile immediately falls when he pushes the plate towards you and you push a travel bag of toiletries towards him.

“Fuck is this?”

“I don’t want to hear any complaints, Irish Spring.”

“How d’you know I use Irish Spring?”

“It’s all five of your routine, it’s going to be pungent— Now listen.” You pick up the bag; you’d dug through your sink cabinet and found a dollar store pack of plastic travel bottles, unused from cancelled trips of yesteryear. You've decanted your own products for him. It's fine, you buy jumbo sizes anyways...

“Shampoo, conditioner, face wash—They’ve even got labels.”

He takes the bag from you, setting it down on his side of the counter, begrudgingly. Though he hasn’t particularly paid it much mind, tunnelled on something else entirely, “Do you not like Irish Spring?”

"I didn't give you a body wash, you can still use it for that one purpose."

"Yeah, but do you not like Irish Spring?"

"...I think it's fine."

“Fine?”

“I’m more of an Old Spice fan.”

“You don’t deserve breakfast—” He pulls your plate, you pull it back.

“All I said—” “Thinkin’ I smell like shit—” “Did not say that—!” “Just cause you use the fruity stuff—” “I smell good! Deny that I smell good!” “You smell fine.” “Wowww—Whatever, do the thing.”

“Bruschetta with a breakfast twist.” Ah, that makes him give you the plate back. His kink is explaining food. “Sourdough toasted, topped with fresh basil—”

“Courtesy of me.”

“Courtesy of you, yes. Tomatoes, bacon glazed in balsamic, and you didn’t have parm so I used feta. And then, y’know, over medium egg on top.”

“You’re very good, Carmen.”

“Oh, I—Uh—” You haven’t even tried it yet. You’re telling him he’s good for the sake of the effort he’s given alone. He needs an antacid. “Thank you.”

It’s redundant to say his food is good. But what else can you say? It’s a fucking perfect open face sandwich. But he’s eating it with you, and half of it’s your own handiwork, and all of your pantry, so you leave your praises purely reaction based, unsaid.

You're honestly a little distracted, reading too hard into the act of him giving you the black plate and taking one of your shitty plastic ones for himself. Time to talk.

“Itinerary for today?”

“Gotta talk chaos menu with Syd before opening, then, well, running the restaurant all night… And then I’ll—I’ll go home.”

“Yeah? You can come back here, if you want to.” Thank God you took a bite in time to hide your selfish disappointment. It’s good for him to go home, but then he’s not here. Real Catch-22.

He shakes his head, “I think I’m good now. Thanks, though. What’s—What’s uh, your plans for today?”

“I’m gonna drop you off wherever you’re going, n’ then I’m gonna go shopping for Syd’s gift—”

“It’s her fuckin’ birthday or somethin?” It’s a delight how immediately panicked he is by this. You're also thankful because he's so distracted it means you won't have to tell him the rest of your plans for today. You'd like to keep that life separate. For as long as possible, at least.

“Nono, it’s just, I didn’t get her anything for her opening night and I wanna change that. I’ll get you something too.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” The very idea of waiting for his response is freaking you the fuck out, so you’re quick to clear your voice and add. “I’ll give you my number, in case you end up needing to crash.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Ey, text me your invoice too.”

You take both your cleared plates to the sink, and the lie is swift. You've gotten a lot better at that, in the past year.

“Oh no worries, your sister already covered it.”

It is 6:30 and your life is over. Kidding. Unless? You dropped off Carmen at the train station hours ago and, to use his words, ‘it’s hit’. He’s at The Bear and there’s nothing for you to fix there— So you’re not.

You’ve only been there like three times and yet it started to feel… Like your thing!

Like, like you’d just come in everyday and… Dunno, fix something... But it’s not like they’re gonna have a crisis everyday. Especially not ones that Fak can't handle himself if needed— There's no way he's gonna last at hosting, anyways. You’re now realizing the unrealistic dream— Possibly more unrealistic than homestead you.

Speaking of, Homestead You would probably throw up, if she saw the you you’re looking at in the mirror right now. You look good. Objectively, you know you look good. The mug is stamped. Your pants are black, high-waisted, and give you an ass. The bright red leather corset top is… Chafing, but it looks good! It's a sweetheart neckline so you have to take off your long rope chain necklace from Mikey and shove it in your pocket— Which is fine and doesn't feel bad at all. And listen, listen, being an on-call bottle girl is good money!

And you might get put on bar tonight! You don’t know for sure if you’re gonna have to juggle around lit up bottles for a bunch of fucking geezers!

...

God, fuck, it’s 10:20 and your life is over.

This group of geezers have been fucking annoying and fucking Cherry wouldn’t get off fucking bar even though you literally covered for her last week and these stupid grandpas asked if gratuity is included— No fucking shit! Did you take their card and put a 40% tip? Yeah, maybe. Fuck them! They’re too fucking rich to notice! And they took three hours to leave! Gonna bash this champagne bottle over his bald fucking—

“Ey! That’s a face I remember.”

You hear your name— Not Tony, not Chip, not Cousin. Your name.

You turn to see, oh fucking hell, let God kill you—

“Uncle J!~ Good to see you!~ What a surprise! It’s Jack, here.” Jack of all Trades. It was cute at the time of sign up. Your smile is bright, fake, strained, and beautiful.

“Been too long, really.” Cicero isn’t a bad guy—Correction: Cicero isn’t a bad guy, to you, but as Mikey once put it, he’s a fuckin’ ball buster and in your case, you’re one of the few people beneath him that he asks favours from. Always wants free labour and your expertise. And he always has a habit of asking for favours the second you need one back. But you don’t need one right now! So it’s fine! Everything’s fine!

“Do your Uncle a favour,”—Fully not your Uncle—“Could you pair me and my friends here with a good red?”

You let it go that they’re having fish and asking for a red. Stupid thing to get hung up over right now. You make a commission of it anyways; you just pick the most expensive bottle. He won’t know the difference. The Bear would know the difference. Carmen would notice the difference... Alright, relax.

While pouring glasses, Jimmy whispers to his compatriots and one by one they all peel off. It is almost alarming how quickly this group of men turn and leave without a second thought, taking their glasses with them.

You raise your brows and look at Cicero. “Ah. This is the moment where I sit?”

He nods, gesturing to the booth. “This is the moment where you sit.”

You slip into the booth, sitting across from him. “What do you need?”

“Right to the point with you.”

“I hate suspense.” You shrug.

“You liked Mikey.”

What the fuck?

You bite your inner cheek, hard. “Don’t say that shit.”

“I liked him too,” He says it solemnly, like your mutual grief is a proper apology. He takes a long sip of his stupid red wine. “Did you hear? Cousin Vinnie and Mira are gettin’ hitched, finally.”

“I have no fucking idea who Vinnie and Mira are.” You take the glass when he hands it to you, taking a sip. Small. You gotta drive home, after all.

“Really? It’s a big wedding—Destination too, in New York—”

“I hate to remind you, but I was friends with Mikey, not his family.” Not his biological one, at least. The Beef, sure. But you literally only met his siblings two days ago. “What’s a wedding gotta do with me?”

He bristles, and finally cuts it short. “Around three hundred guests, seven-hour shift, open bar—” “Oh, for fuckssake—” “Listen—”

“It’s an easy gig, I’ll fly you out for it, it’s a month and a half away, you’ll get to attend a big fuckin’ Italian wedding— Which will be a shitshow, certainly, so free entertainment; and Michelin Star level catering, kind of.”

You squint. Kind of? “You got Carmy in on this shit?”

“You know ‘em?”

You nod, pressing your elbows on the table, “We’ve recently become acquainted. What d’you got on him for him to cater a wedding?”

“He’s eight-hundred grand in the hole.” “Fuck!” “He gets thirty off for catering. Smart boy, said yes.”

Christ, you massage the bridge of your brow with one hand and pull out your phone with another to check your calendar, you might as well see if you can even entertain the idea. You don’t need a favour right now, maybe you can bargain and get him to actually pay you for it, this time.

“I dunno, Uncle J…”

Oh.

28 unread texts from Syd.

3 unread texts from an unknown number— Probably Carmen.

9 missed calls from Syd.

Uncle Jimmy, always, always, has a fucking way, of asking for a favour when you need one…

You slam your phone, screen down on the table, straightening your posture in your seat. “I have demands.”

He motions for you to continue, taking his wine glass back. “You always do.”

“You and your friends are gonna tip a hundred percent tonight.”

“That why you give me a 2016 Fisher?”

“I like to think ahead.”

“Smart girl.” He shrugs, palms of his hands out. Which means yes.

“If Uncle Lee comes up to the bar I’m throwing a fork at him and leaping over the counter.”

He chuckles, “Thought you 'didn’t know family'.”

“I remember what I'm told.”

His amusement fades quickly, remembering first hand. He nods. “…You’re allowed to jump him if I’m watching first.”

“And you’re friends with my boss, right?”

“We’re acquainted.”

“I’m gonna punch out now and you’re gonna smooth that out for me.”

He perks up, amused, glancing at your phone, “Somethin’ come up, Chip?”

“Don’t call me Chip.” He wants to poke at you, just a little bit more, but there’s a rattled look in your eyes that he’s so rarely seen that he lets it go.

He waves his hand, shrugging, “Be safe. I'll send you the details. December wedding, remember.”

At the end of the day, Cicero isn’t a bad guy to you, someone who loved his nephew as much as he did.

You’re running to your car while you dial back Syd. You don’t have time to read the texts, all you need to know is that it’s an emergency. She picks up just after the first ring.

“Syd what the—” “Code blue!”

You almost fall on your face and eat asphalt. For a flash, you’re in the back of an ambulance being handed a defibrillator at the age of 22, surrounded by faces just as scared and young as you. Then you’re back in the parking lot, slotting the key into your car door because the fob doesn’t work. It’s never worked.

“S-Someone’s having a fucking heart attack!?”

“What?!”

“That’s what fucking code blue means!”

“Oh my god! Sorry! No, I was just saying the thing that scares doctors the most!”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ scared Syd!” You slide into the driver’s seat and slam your car door shut. You take a deep breath, white knuckling the steering wheel. “…I’m-I'm sorry for yelling! Where are you, what’s going on?”

“The—The Bear, the restaurant.” The second you have a location you’re revving off.

“Nat locked herself in the office—” “Like trapped?” This shit again?

“No, no— Like she locked herself in— She did this like two hours ago and I thought she was just taking a breather— But we’ve closed and, and like almost everyone left and she’s still not coming out— And she blocked the door inside— and— And I think she’s trying to hide that she’s basically shrieking in pain every five minutes.”

You take a long time to register anything she’s just said. Her tone is as panicked as you feel on the inside. You’re only now registering the ambient yelling of Richie and Carmen in the background.

“…Did—Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah Syd, I’m just thinking.” You don’t step on the gas on purpose, it just happens. “A pregnant woman is screaming in pain— in intervals— behind a blockaded door?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Have you called an ambulance?”

There’s a much more distinct yell in the background from Richie, “No cops!”

Then from Carmen, “No coverage!”

“Yeah…” Syd shakily continues for them, “The insurance is a problem, and Richie said— Motherfucker—” You hear a muffled scrap over the phone before Richie continues on for Syd.

“Er, yeah, Cousin, Sugar keeps yelling that she’s fine ‘n blocked the door, if we call the cops they’re gonna ram that shit down and take her to the loony bin.”

“That’s not— That’s not what paramedics do.”

“That’s what they all do.”

“Richie, y’know, I was a paramedic, right?”

“…You a fuckin’ fed, Chip?”

“Richie, if I was a fuckin' narc you would be in prison by now. I, I— I'll be there in like, like eight minutes, everyone stop fucking yelling at Sugar!”

You’re there in four. You almost rear end someone and you run every yellow you get but you’re there in four. You don’t park properly in the back, you just drive your car in and turn it off in the middle of the lot. You don’t bother to be let in, you just punch the code in as you remember it. As Natalie told you.

“Oh good you—Oh my, God?” Syd is no better than a man in this moment, going from grateful for your presence to being one intrusive thought away from whistling.

You did not have time to change out of your ...outfit and someone has been hogging your Carhartt. You pass Syd quickly, waving a hand in front of her face. Goddammit, why do your boot heels have to have that incredibly satisfying femme fatale click right now?

“Alright— Relax—”

“Holy shit, Chippy!” Richie was yelling at Sugar through the door along with Carm, but once alerted to your presence is now snapping his fingers. You'd describe him more as impressed than actually attracted to you. “You clean up!”

“Cousin, are you—” He grabs Carmen’s face, turning it to you— Carmen does of course, immediately slap Richie’s hand away which of course, means they just start smacking each other's hands. Like preteen girls. “Ey, get the fuck off—” “I just want you to look at a pretty girl, Cousin—!” “Stop fuckin’ touchin’ me!” “Are you looking!?” “I—”

“Everyone shut the fuck up!”

You silence the room. You’re thankful most of the staff has left by now since it’s well after close. It's just Carmen, Syd, Richie, Tina, and Fak for some goddamn reason...You can't be mean you're handymen, you have to stick together.

“I look different from the usual jumpsuit, yes, we get it, can we move on? Pregnant woman?”

Syd is the first to speak, “…Were you on a date, though?”

You blink and roll your eyes all at once, twisting your head to her, “Syd—”

“It’s good to see you getting out there, baby.” Tina, deeply unhelpful in this moment, puts a hand around your shoulder. Oh to have a mother’s judgment when she’s not even your mother.

“O-kay!” You drag on the ‘kay’, clapping your hands together, “Everyone, just get your thoughts out in the next five seconds and then we’re moving on.”

“Chippy, I cannot believe you’ve held this out on me—” “—I meant it like-like a concerned, did we interrupt your date—” “—The red is unbelievable on you, Cousin!” “I need you to teach me how you do your makeup—” “Can you— can you yell again—?” “Fak!” “Oh, so that’s too much?”

A cacophony, it continues on. Your eyes glaze over, and you’re waiting for Sugar to let out a scream so everyone remembers the fucking point of being here. But then you look at Carmen. Everyone’s pivoted from staring at you to yelling at each other. But Carmen; Carmen is still looking at you. Stupid soft scary eye contact. And his voice is so much quieter than the yelling but it’s the thing that you hear anyways.

“It looks tight.”

There’s a possibility that when you killed the teenage girl inside you that you also killed the feminist. Because there’s a small sub-sect of you that’s upset that he’s not objectifying you right now. That his vision is focused on you. Not the changes. He doesn’t seem to look at you any differently than when you’re wearing a jumpsuit and utility belt, covered in toilet water. This should not be annoying and yet it is.

“It is.”

He nods, eye contact unshifting, unblinking, “You wanna change?”

“Maybe after we find out whether or not your sister is in labour.”

He nods. He takes a second but he nods.

You approach him, rather, the door, knocking gently. Everyone quiets down.

You clear your throat, and once more, the persona is put on, you’re a paramedic, putting on that soft but firm reassuring authoritative tone. “E-M Rescue, I got a call for a wellness check on Natalie Berzatto?”

“Tony—” A groan of pain behind the door, “I am perfectly well! Everyone go home!”

You grimace, you motion with your hand for Fak to hand you a screwdriver— He keeps one in his breast-pocket, even when wearing a suit. Hey, you should start doing that.

“Nat, I’m a paramedic— Or I was—will you please let me in?”

“I don’t— Fuck! —Need a paramedic!”

“Never hurts to do a check-up, Nat.” You speak calmly, like you always did. “Listen, lover, if you don’t open the door, I’m gonna have to take it off its hinges, and we're gonna lose medic patient confidentiality.”

When she doesn’t reply after a good beat, you start to unscrew the top hinge; she can hear it, “Wait, wait, wait— Fuck-Fuck— I’m opening it!”

There’s another series of pained groans as she exerts herself to open the door, and once she does, it’s only by a crack, to look at you and you alone. She’s absolutely been crying. She speaks in a whispered tone. “Just you.”

You nod, handing the screwdriver back to Fak without breaking eye contact with her. “Just me.”

She cracks it open just enough for you to come in. And so, you do. Everyone is, for the first time, too worried about her shutting down to interrupt or yell a complaint.

You close the door behind you, pressing your back to it. You note the toppled over chair by your feet that she must’ve blocked it with. Plus the puddle of amniotic fluid beneath her. Oh fuck.

...

“You wanna talk or do you just want me to check your contractions?”

“I’m—” She shakes her head, covering her face. She half sits on the desk. “I’m fucking— I am not ready for this.”

“Yeah.” You nod. You’re not here to convince anyone they’re ready to be a fucking mother. But you’re here to listen, certainly.

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“Who?”

“Her—!” Her voice is choked, another contraction. You’re silently taking the time in your head. She points to her stomach.

“And— And we just opened, and— And I’m gonna have to go on maternity leave, which is the last fucking thing we need and— and— If I could just fucking keep her in!”

“Natalie.” You put a hand on her shoulder, she finally looks at you. “This is happening.”

“Not help—fu—ll.”

“I know it’s not. This is scary and there are no take backs—” “Very unhelp—”

“Nat, your daughter wants to meet you.”

You squeeze her shoulder; she looks like she’s gonna cry all over again for a completely different reason. “She probably won’t hate you. Who’s to say. But I know you’ll love her. And that’s enough, isn’t it?”

She nods, emphatically, but something is still bothering her. You squeeze her shoulder again. You whisper, so even if everyone’s ear is pressed to the door— Which you doubt, she’s screaming after all, they won’t hear.

“Carmen will still know you love him, even when you're not here.”

She immediately goes for a hug, you reciprocate with a shuddered ease. She sniffs, head on your shoulder. She stays there for a while before letting you go, nodding. “Okay.”

You hand her the tissue box next to her on the table, she takes it thankfully, crushing it in her hand. Another contraction. Oh, that couldn't have been more than 2 minutes. Oh fuck.

You kneel down in front of her, and you’re simply no longer in your body as a person but just the paramedic. You could not be more thankful that she’s wearing a dress today. Awkward requests of spreading legs and pulling off underwear aside, Natalie’s daughter does in fact really want to meet her. Oh fuck.

You look up at Natalie, between her knees, you speak cool, professional. “You’re crowning. This is gonna have to happen here. I'll have someone call your husband.”

You’re so calm that it doesn’t give Natalie the feeling or need to freak out, she just breathes. “Okay. Okay.”

You stand upright. “Do you prefer this office or somewhere else?”

“I can’t— Move.”

“Makes sense. Makes total sense. Okay. I’ll go get everything we need, I’ll be right back. I might send some people in, okay, love?”

She just grunts in reply, nodding, now that she’s not in as much emotional pain, she can entirely focus on her brutalizing physical pain.

“Oh, hey, I know—” You grab her purse, pulling out her phone and ear buds, handing them to her with haste, your calm demeanour is faltering just a bit. “Listen to some music, loud, y’know, chill…” You put the pods in her ear for her. She’s again, in too much pain to tell you to fuck off, and just plays her music loud.

You softly open the door, smiling just a bit too much as you leave, and very softly close the door behind you. Looking at the motley crew before you, your persona immediately falls apart. You really only wanted her to play music so you could scream. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“What’s happening, she good?” What a sweet, stupid brother, Sugar has.

You purse your lips together, eyes wide, shaking your head. “She’s going to give birth in like— Maybe six minutes. Max ten.” Everyone goes to speak in an uproar of panic, and then you slap yourself in the face. Hard. That stuns them silent.

“Alright!” You press your hands over your eyes, “Tina!”

She’s been around this block before, “What do you need?”

“Can you go sit in there with her? Tell her all the breathing exercises and shit? Keep her calm? Coming from you it won’t seem so—”

“Condescending as fuck?”

“Yes, exactly, can you?”

“Gotchu, baby.” She claps your shoulder when she walks past and into the office.

You clap hers in tandem, “Thank you, Mama—Okay, Richie!”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna need you to call Nat’s husband—”

“Why do I—”

“Because you’re a fuckin’ dad, Rich, and he will need you!” You’re yelling all pissed, snapping your fingers at him, but he does light up when you say it like that. “I don’t care if he wets his fuckin’ bed, tell him to get here!”

He salutes, walking off, “Aye aye, Cap’n Chip.”

You shake off the sting in your hand, God, you really did slap yourself too hard. You turn to the next targets. “Syd, Fak.”

Syd responds hesitantly for the both of them, since Fak is silently enjoying your colonel persona a little too much. “…Yes, C-Captain?”

“I need towels, a lot of clean towels— cloth ones, like sanitized clean— Warm half in water— And then I need a clean sheet— A table cloth or something, I don’t fucking care, something clean and big that you’re fine destroying. I need sterile sheaths, Syd you get those— Other than that, however they get to me, I don’t give a shit— Just scrub in before you touch anything!”

They almost knock into each other the way they run so fast. You yell after them. “Get the big sheet first, she needs to lay down!”

“Yes, Chef!”

You take a deep breath before moving your gaze onto Carmy. The screaming lead EM in you melts off your shoulders, just for the second.

He asks before you can even say anything, “Yes, Chef?”

“I need you to scrub in and get me gloves and an apron—” “On it, Chef—” “And you’re gonna sit in with me for the birth of your niece.”

He cringes, not to refuse, but just the mounting reality of the situation is dawning on him. His sister is going to give birth to his niece in their shared office of his high-class restaurant within it's first week of open.

But you then tag on, “Carmy, she needs you— Frankly, I’m not the one giving birth but fuckin' I need you. T-There.”

He softens instantly, like tranquilizing— Well, a bear.

“Yes, Chef.”

I know the opening probably feels so far away by now, but i do want to note that Breakfast Bruschetta is my own recipe that I used to make like every fuckin' day pre-employment. It's so goddamn good. I highly recommend it, babes. It's balsamic with brown sugar dissolved, btw, Carmy's just a quick explainer.

I wrote like a solid 75% of the labour sequence before deciding it just needed to have the breathing room of it's own chapter, so until next time for that one bbs. But I'm excited for it! And also dreading it! A lot of hard conversations combined with giving birth = nightmare to write, but well worth it, i think. Speaking of: I don't believe at the end of Season 2 that Sugar is at the end of her term of 36 weeks, but in our case here, she is. I'm very much so not interested in a very scary premature birth for our girl!! She's okay!! Dw!! I just wonked with time a little, hope that's okay.

And hey, look at that reveal! Bartender/Sommelier was code for bottle service-- Which is a very respectable career, btw, don't get it twisted-- I was critiquing it only in the way I would critique literally any other job: Misery Under Capitalism. And now we've got that fuckin' wedding in the future midst! Ah!!

Anyways please send me your thoughts ad nauseam, I reload my activity feed every 3 seconds to see what you guys are thinking. If you reblog, tell me what you think in the tags!! Yell at me in the replies!! Send an anon in!! I don't bite, I swear <3

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#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #carmy the bear #the bear fx

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