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nvuy · 6 months ago

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doctor, doctor — veritas ratio

summary. you’re the worst person ever, distract him from his work, beat him at chess, and yet doctor ratio still can’t seem to hate your presence as much as he lets on.

notes. “nvuy please update your fics” NO.

my favourite person ever informed me that when owlbert lists all of ratio’s degrees, chemistry is not one of them, so i thought that was funny. but anyway i always lowkey forget ratio exists but then he appears in game and i go Good Lord and then go about my day. that man’s arms do something to me.

warnings. suggestive content, one intense make out session, you’re a freak LMAO, ratio thinks you’re a freak too, this is lowkey crack, i wrote this tipsy, gn reader but you do wear lipgloss.

“Hi, Doctor.”

Veritas’ fingers slid against the screen like nails on a chalkboard. A headache was already starting to form behind his eyes, and he squeezed them shut for a moment before he unwillingly opened them again.

“Yes. Good evening to you.”

Keep the pleasantries. Don’t yell. Don’t throw a punch. Don’t slam another book on anyone else’s head.

You sat down in the seat beside him with a purple soda can in your hand. “Whatcha doin’?”

Veritas cleared his throat. “I’m working.” He glanced up at the top of his screen. “And, judging by the time, you should be working as well.”

You weren’t even listening, choosing instead to pick up a stray notebook that he’d left on the desk. The page was filled with scribble and stupid math symbols—actually, that was not scribble. That was just his handwriting.

Gross. You grimaced at the page before you turned it. The next page, and the next, creased and scarred with harsh pen markings, looked undoubtedly the same.

“Work is for losers,” was all you remarked. You obnoxiously sipped at your drink.

Ratio scoffed. “How you even landed a position working for Madame Herta is beyond me. You are clearly a liability.”

You snorted. “I got hired because I’m sexy and smart.” You were picking at your nails, painted a deep purple like his hair. “You’re only here because Miss Asta needed help. After her problem is solved, you can go back to moping about how you don’t have a chemistry degree.”

You watched his jaw visibly tighten. His teeth gnashed together, and you swore you could hear them grinding behind his lips.

“It is a work in progress,” was all he said.

“Yap, yap.” You made a talking gesture with your hands. “I’m the professional here. That’s why Miss Asta made me lead chemist.”

Such a shame your ego overshadowed such a pretty face.

“What do you want?” he asked, trying to return to his notebook.

“I want to play chess.”

“I’m busy.”

You blew a raspberry. You punched him playfully in the shoulder. You almost hurt your knuckles bopping his bicep. “You’re just scared you’ll lose.”

His glanced up so quickly you swore you heard his neck crack. He raised an eyebrow in a challenging gesture, as if daring you to repeat yourself.

You only stared at him expectantly.

“One game,” he rushed out, face reddening in frustration. The look he gave you could’ve killed, but you knew him better than that. His strangely jacked physique wasn’t built to maim, and if he wanted to smack you with his tablet, he would’ve done so already. “And if I win, you will leave me alone.”

“Mmm, okay.” You shrugged. “And if I win, I get a kiss.” You tapped your cheek twice.

Veritas reeled back. Then, taken aback, he spluttered, “that’s all?”

You took another sip of your drink.

Then, you blinked. “Yep.”

Ratio, too, reciprocated, blinking wildly as if he hadn’t even processed what had come out of your mouth.

You grinned at him, eyes crinkling below your lashes as he eyed you down like he was viewing a sample through a microscope.

Then, he sighed. “Fine.” He tapped away on his screen. One of his floating gadgets projected a holographic chessboard onto his desk. “I suppose somebody has to dull that ego of yours.”

You leaned back in your seat and waved him off lightly. “You can go first.”

The chessboard flipped, and the white pieces faced him.

*ೃ༄

“Hey, does this thing have speech detection?” You leaned closer to the board. “Knight to B4.”

As expected, the small porcelain knight upon the board moved forward into its newly assigned position.

Ratio scoffed, clearly irritated. His fingers tapped idly against the desk. “You are so frustratingly lazy. It’s a miracle you get your work done, and such a shame it impedes your potential brilliance.”

You only made another talking motion with your hands. As he thought long and hard about his next move, you yawned. He took everything so seriously.

No wonder he was so jacked. He was constantly tense. It probably counted as a workout.

“You think I’m brilliant?” you asked with a smile.

“I think you have selective hearing.” Finally, he moved one of his pieces forward. “But, yes. Miss Asta speaks highly of you.”

“Aww. I’ll give her a smooch later.” That was a relief to hear, actually. Sometimes you worried if she’d boot you out of your position because of your tardiness. It was good that she still wanted you working in the station, despite lagging behind on reports and important meetings.

When you glanced up from the board after telling a pawn to move forward one space, Ratio’s eyes caught yours before he briskly looked down at the hologram once more.

Ratio was trying to read the board. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Just what are you doing?”

“Winning.”

“You are not winning.”

“Sure I am.” You leaned back in the seat once more. “Checkmate.”

Veritas’ eyes snapped up to gawp at you.

“Excuse me?”

“Checkmate,” you repeated. “I know I’m distracting. I have that effect on loser nerds with big egos.”

Veritas was staring at the board again. He was trying to piece together your previous moves, as the holographic board began to play in reverse. He was no cheat, no, never, and you didn’t expect him to do it as you were watching either, but it was clear as day.

He lost.

Your tongue carded along the rim of the soda can. “L-O-L.”

“This doesn’t even make sense,” Veritas mumbled, fingers rubbing circles into his temples. “You didn’t even have a plausible strategy.”

“Yeah, I did.” You placed a defensive hand over your heart. “You just don’t know it, because I have such a great poker face.”

“Chess doesn’t warrant a poker face.”

“Well, then, if you’re not willing to know my genius strategy–”

“No.” Veritas glared at you. “You will tell me.”

“Sure. I’m more worried about my reward, though.”

The look he gave you made you howl with laughter. It was a twist of his lips into something unsavoury as if he’d just swallowed a shot of vinegar. His brows knitted together and those unfairly long dark lashes casted a jagged shadow over his cheeks.

The chess board disappeared with a small noise and the screen returned to normal.

You leaned forward, batting your own lashes at him.

Veritas, after displaying a shaky grimace on his lips, met you halfway and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to your cheek.

You looked offended when he pulled back.

You whined. “What was that?”

“Your reward,” he argued.

“You just brushed your lips on me. Do you kiss everyone like that?” You were quite literally sulking, more so to get on his nerves.

It was working.

You swore you noticed a vein twinge on his temple. “I don’t just kiss anyone, thank you. Especially not over a game of chess.”

“You’re not getting my genius strategy, then.”

“Fine.”

This time, when his lips went for your cheek again, you turned your head.

Veritas let out an embarrassing noise that you’d never forget.

When he tried to pull away, clearly flustered and radiating so hot you were convinced he’d combust right there in his chair, you locked a hand in his hair.

Flustered for a moment, he then returned your enthusiasm ten fold, large hands curling around your waist and keeping the excited jittering of your legs still.

“Somebody will see,” he mumbled against your lips quietly.

To address his concerns, you dipped down lower in your seat behind the wall of his desk. Anyone that was watching would look away if they knew what was good for them.

Pulling away from his lips proved difficult. You caught the taste of his evening coffee, as well as the scent of cashmeran, and something that smelled faintly of chestnut and the smoky smell of a nice warm fireplace.

“You smell nice,” you whispered. Your voice was slightly hoarse. “What’re you wearing?”

The grin you had stretched on your face said it all.

Veritas snarled against your lips. “A physics degree.”

His lips hit your teeth when you grinned. “Can’t taste better than a chemistry degree.”

“You are horrible.”

Your hand crept along the waistband of his pants, feeling along the ribbons and the sleek expensive material. It was like cotton, but somehow even softer against your fingers, as if the thread count was bordering on six-hundred.

He reeled back when he finally processed the feeling of your fingertips slipping below his clothes. “Watch yourself.”

“Blah, blah, blah.” He made no effort to remove your hands, so a finger then hooked beneath the border of the hole over his chest. “Come ‘ere, Doctor.”

The light in your eyes was almost as intimidating as when you pressed your lips back into his, this time firmer, as if you were trying to mould your skin to his.

His skin was surprisingly warm for how cold he behaved. His scent was addicting. Freshly printed books and a warm winter’s night.

It tore a low and pleasant groan from your throat.

Surprisingly, he did not push away when your lips slipped from his mouth and traced the line of his jaw.

Instead, he sighed defeatedly and angled his jaw for you. You hummed, clearly content.

“Enjoying yourself?” he mused.

“Mhm.” You wondered whether he’d let you suck a bruise beneath his ear. “You’re soft. For a man.”

Veritas scoffed at that. He would insist that you were softer, but he instead bit his tongue. Of course he was soft. He took care of his skin, and he didn’t waste his life away drinking that filth you called soda.

He usually hated that artificial grape flavour, but he supposed the taste of your lips helped quell the awful amount of sugar still resting on your tongue.

He stiffened beneath you. He hadn’t even realised you had crawled into his lap. “Are you leaving marks?”

“Yep.” Your lips had dipped down to the base of his neck to stain the thin stretch of skin there.

“Oh, you–!” His eyes squeezed shut when your teeth carded along his jugular in warning.

The poor man looked two seconds away from a heart attack. His pupils almost turned to slits. He couldn’t tell whether he wanted to push you away or draw you closer. It was a mix of heat and blur that made his vision swirl with colour.

He felt unreasonably dizzy. He was grateful he was still sitting at his desk, for he was sure his knees would have given out beneath him otherwise.

Your lips pulled back for a moment. Sticky. He could smell a tinge of kiwi fruit from the gloss smeared over your lips. He was sure it was lathered all over his jaw like thick paste. The remaining hour of his shift would be a mix of rushing the rest of his report, and trying to scrub your makeup from his face.

Part of him wanted the stains to stay there, as unprofessional the thought was.

His silent brooding while your thighs warmed his were interrupted by approaching heels. Black kitten heels, to be exact, with a dark pinkish plum soles. He recognised her footsteps from miles away.

His heart stopped.

“Um… Doctor Ratio? I’m just receiving word that– oh my stars!”

Too late.

Veritas sprang from his seat, shoving you back into your own chair, much to your chagrin. Your hand fell from beneath the material of his shirt.

The damage had already been done, however.

Poor Lead Astronomer Asta stood frozen, face red, holding a clipboard with way too many pink highlighted paragraphs on the paper.

Veritas awkwardly cleared his throat, and tried to wipe the sticky gloss off his lips. “The report will be with you in an hour.”

Asta merely blinked at him. Her cheeks were brighter than her hair.

Her eyes then flitted towards you. She looked like she had seen a ghost.

You waved. “Hey, queen.”

Then, she nodded once in a greeting, squeaked an, “okay, thanks,” to the doctor and then rushed away, still hot in the face.

You could see the uneven rise and fall of Veritas’ chest. You were sure his heart was racing beneath his skin; yours was exactly the same, maybe arguably even quicker.

“Terrific.” Veritas turned his head to ridicule you. Scary for a dude with lipgloss smeared all over his face. “You’ve traumatised the poor girl.”

He heard you sigh. “I was just getting started.” You slouched in your chair, defeated. You checked your watch, noticing the giant seven tick over. “I’m hungry.”

“Eat, then. It’s dinner time.” He sat back down in his chair after he was sure he’d cleaned his face of your makeup.

“I was having dinner.” You finished the last of your soda and tapped at the can absentmindedly with your nails. “And was just getting to dessert.”

“You have an awful tongue.” He waved you off with his hands, fed up. “Now, shoo. I’m busy.”

“You’re so boring. What do you do for fun? Read?” He opened his mouth to answer, but you stopped him before he could embarrass himself even further. “Don’t answer that.”

Veritas rolled his eyes.

Instead, he chose to ignore you and pull the data back up onto his screen. His handwriting is still the most horrific thing you’ve ever seen, but it’s almost fascinating watching him write like that.

It’s just a line that only he can understand. Like his own nerd language.

You found it sort of hot.

Your eyes darted over to the bathroom door. “Hey, Doctor… What about–”

His eyes flared, and his grip on his pen grew tighter. He almost split a hole into the paper. "We are not having a rendezvous in the bathroom, nor will I be coming home with you.”

"Aww."

"But, for what's its worth, I commend your bravery in asking such a bizarre thing."

Ooh, praise. Lovely. "Eh." You clicked your tongue and leaned forward to kiss the side of his hair. “Worth a try.”

When you pull away, he does not look up, but his cheeks are tinged a lovely pink.

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #✦ ( the macrocosmos. )#( aka ‘is anybody gonna match my freak?’ the fic. )

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 5 months ago

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roomies | s.r. x gn!reader

“i don’t think he’s gonna agree.”

“he’s gonna agree cause he promised me at least once.”

derek and penelope bickered outside the dark wood of spencer reid’s apartment. the said promise was going to a bar with a majority of the team, gideon and hotch declining. jj and emily were already at their usual bar, derek was sulking due to being dragged into this side mission, already expecting a lengthy no.

penelope rapped her knuckles to the wood, “well tonight might be the night he surprises you.” her toes giving a slight bounce while waiting about ten seconds.

there was the sound of footsteps on the other side and the twisting of a lock. the door swung open all the way and insteade of the slender doctor reid greeting them, they stood in front of someone unknown.

“can i… help you?” you asked the two strangers on your doorstep. their faces showing clear confusion and curiosity.

the chubby blonde open and closed her mouth before asking, “does- does a spencer reid live here?” twisting her rings. penelope was positive this was spencer’s address, but she didn’t want to come off as a stalker or something.

your body shifted a bit, from kinda loose to now more concerned. “who’s asking?” eyeing them both skeptically.

derek took the moment to mess around. he pulled his badge from his jacket pocket and flashed it, with a straight and serious voice he said, “the fbi. we need to ask doctor reid some questions.”

you called over your shoulder, “spence! the fbi is here!” keeping them outside the threshold.

there was quick steps from inside that grew closer and over your shoulder, spencer popped into view. he stood beside you, “what are you guys doing here?”

you looked at him, “you know them, right?” fingers messing with the shiny knob. spencer quelled yours nerves with a shy smile, “they work with me at the bau.” your mouth shaped into an ‘o’ at the information.

“you gonna introduce us, boy wonder? being a rude house guest.” the blonde reached an arm out to wack at spencer’s bicep. you and the other man chuckled at her antics.

“this is penelope garcia, our analysis. and derek morgan works in the field with me.” you outstretched a welcoming hand, “i’m y/n, his roommate.”

derek was the first to shake hands, “pretty boy never told us he shared a space with anyone. you know, with his thing about germs.”

“i’ve know him since high school. moved here for college, so it worked out. he’s more open to it since we’ve known each other for a while.” shrugging off derek’s assumption.

“oh!” a yelp from the blonde, penelope, “you should join us for drinks tonight. maybe it’ll convince this one to join us.” she’s pointed a painted finger at spencer, “i’m cashing in your promise.”

you cocked a brow, “promise?” asked for anyone to answer. penelope did, “this one promised that he would come out with us once, well more like forced out if it’s been awhile. and it has, so it’s now the two of you we’re dragging along.” she clapped her hands together twice, “come on. the night isn’t long for us.”

you weren’t gonna force spencer out, but it did sound promising. “i could use a break…” mumbled out the side of your mouth. you looked at spencer who locked eyes with you, he twisted his mouth then sighed, relenting to his fate. “fine, fine. we’ll meet you there.”

“oh! this is gonna be so fun! i can’t wait to chat with you.” penelope reached in for an impulse hug, one you reciprocated after a moment pause. you chuckled, “same here.”

your two guest shortly left and spencer closed the door behind him. you turned to him with crossed arms over your chest and a playful pout to your lips, “kinda hurtful they didn’t know about me.”

spencer licked his lips with a bashful smirk, “wanted you to myself for a while.” cupping into your cheeks and pressing a soothing kiss to wash away your puckered lips. “best get ready, they can get impatient very fast.”

#erin writes spencer #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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rockingbytheseaside · 5 months ago

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✦ How they dream of you at night

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Tartaglia

(tw: just slightly sad)

✧ “In the hidden corners where the gods' gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming” - and one said person, Pierro, can be found within the grand Palace of Snezhnaya. He solemnly sits by the window, his icy blue eyes gazing off into the dark winter night of this snowy land.

He often does that, when the night becomes silent and the world is still. Pierro wishes he could dream, yet 500 years of cursed immortality can corrode one’s mind into feeble numbness. Thus, the Fatui Director substitutes his dreamless nights with daydreams of you. Silent fantasies of your voice, images of cupping your jawline, a tender caress to your form. The jester’s daydreams are the only thing keeping him sane, preserving the memory of your skin and love alive in his mind.

And even if his nights are bleak and dreamless, he would rather settle for maladaptive daydreams. When the Jester gazes at the fake stars of Teyvat, hanging by the firmament as a lifeline, so does he yearn to daydream of you - living in the day just for the memory of your embrace. Alas, only the harsh nights of Snezhnaya are witness to his wistful gazes.

✧ For Il Capitano, the world is full of battles and wars; conflicts initiated by the ignorant ones, those who care naught for the innocent. Therefore, the only moment of solace that the Captain can afford is in his dreams. Dreams in which his vision is not haunted by the bloodshed of battlefields, but instead by simple dreams of you.

In those dreams, the world is plain and quiet. He often sees you in it, occupying his thoughts. Sometimes you’d talk and ramble nonchalantly, occasionally he’d see you collecting small chamomile flowers by the grass. Those dreams are uneventful, yet for the Captain, such peacefulness is a luxury he cannot afford. An image of you and him by a quiet valley, a gentle breeze idling by, and having all the time to relish each other’s endless conversations. No thoughts of warfare, only the unwinding sound of your voice.

The Captain is not ashamed to admit he dreamt of you. In fact, he’d candidly say it during the most random of times - “I saw you in my dreams again.”

You’d glance at him and muse - “Oooh, really? Maybe you just miss my company!”

The Harbinger's mask remains pitch black, devout of any expression that might tell whether he reciprocates your little teasing. But besides the occasional clank of chains from his helmet, a low chuckle will escape him. Therefore, The Captain would lean to sit closer to you, his body less tense whenever he is in your presence. Even your silence is a remedy to his soul.

“Perhaps I do. Perhaps I really do.”

✧ Il Dottore hates dreaming. Sleep, in its entirety, is a redundant form of rest that the human body requires. An utter waste of time. Thus, as a scientist who modified his own body to perfection, it’s unsurprising that he can go on for days without sleep. The Doctor can be efficient with his time, although that’s not why he semi-biologically modified his body. It’s because he hates dreaming of you.

You are always there in his dreams, along with his younger self. The nostalgic warm sunlight of Sumeru basks onto you, and in those dreams, he sees you in the familiar hallways of the Akademiya. Dottore does not consider those dreams pleasant, since they make him uneasy of the grave past. He doesn’t like seeing himself so simple and young, in his Akademiya uniform. He doesn’t enjoy seeing your tender smile as you clutch your books closer to your chest and lock your gaze with him. He doesn’t like how his dream self always yearns to come closer and embrace you tight. As if young Zandik could’ve held you one more time, and all his troubles would dissipate by the warm sun.

Yet no matter the place or outcome of the peaceful dream, every time that young Zandik tries to reach for your face or seek your lips, you’re always an arm-length away. The hallways of the Akademiya loom threateningly, pulling you further away from him, your warmth becoming unreachable. How naive. He should be better than this. Now he sits up in bed, awake and hands clenched around his hair with trepidation. He hates how his body wants to cry for the memory of you in his dreams. He really hates dreaming.

✧ The fact that Scaramouche even possesses the faculties to dream is what made him the individual he is today. Whether he curses his ability to do so or not, it doesn’t matter. He is no longer the naive Kabukimono he once was, in fact, he doesn’t even require to mimic sleep as humans do. But only you know the truth. During still nights, when the two of you doze off under the warm futons, the Balladeer’s hand would unconsciously grip yours, then followed by silent sobs.

In his dreams, he sees many events unfold. Sometimes, he sees himself left to live in the squalor like a common critter, discarded and abandoned. Sometimes, he sees the familiar Tataratsuna huts. But more often, he sees you there in his dreams. Back in the warm plains of Yashiori Island, you let him rest his head on your lap. You are dressed in a snug kimono that the fabric's comfort etches onto Scaramouche’s memories eternally. In his dreams, he rests idly in your embrace, by your lap, while you caress his hair.

Those dreams are delightful at first as if his memories as Kabukimono reinvoke themselves and immortalize the softness of your body and the soothing motion of your hands in his subconscious. But quickly, those dreams shift into agonies. Sometimes, in those dreams, you turn and desert him, while he is left on his dirtied knees to plead for your return. Sometimes, those nightmares show him that it is your heart that can ebb the Tatarigami within Mikage Furnace. And just before he's forced to rip your beating core and relive another memory, he awakes.

“Scara?! Scara…?” - you whispered in the dimness of the night, shaking him awake. “You were crying in your sleep. Another nightmare?”

The Puppeteer said nothing. He lay awake, startled as tears involuntarily streamed down his cheeks. With twitching eyes, he quickly clings around your waist, burying his face against you to conceal his tears. No words needed to be exchanged as his body shook, while you hushed and hugged him. This was the reason why Scaramouche avoided dozing off into sleep ever again.

Regardless of the content of his nightmares, he’d never admit you caressed his hair and soothed him the same way you did in his dreams.

✧ Pantalone is in bed, restless. Turning from side to side, or readjusting his pillows becomes a futile endeavor to find solace when his bed is lacking you. You are out there, on an expedition, busy exploring Teyvat. Your trip might take another few days, yet Pantalone is alone in a bed that often nestled you close together. Where do your feet take you, the Harbinger ponders to himself. Hence, while you are away, the Regrator is forced to make amends with the bedroom that feels considerably empty, considerably cold, considerably foreign - all because it's missing you.

In the late, voiceless hours of the night, his dreams blend with his yearning for you. He misses pressing your entire form against his lean body, as it often allows him to fall asleep easily. With you in his arms, chest pressed to another, he knows - you are safe. You are with him. Unfortunately, you are away, and the night feels unwelcoming. For now, Pantalone has to clutch a pillow in his sleep to substitute his feeling of holding you. Even as he sleeps with worry, he hopes somewhere out there, in a foreign land, you are dreaming of him the same way he’s dreaming of you.

✧ When Tartaglia drifts off into dreamland, his mind is still half-busy with thoughts of you. So much so that his plans blend into his dreams. Thoughts about what he should buy you while he’s away on a mission. Ideas on where to purchase your favorite local specialties. Or perhaps how he should surprise you when he comes back home.

His brain is so enthusiastically occupied with plans to bring you souvenirs, that his dreams come up with countless scenarios of how you’d greet him upon arrival. He’d envision your joyous surprise, endearing pouts, or teasing smiles. And sometimes, if his dreams are more daring, Childe might accidentally dream of some sweet rewards that will leave him waking up in a cold sweat, panting, and body craving.

Either way, he is rushing back to you the moment his mission is over. His dreams of you might leave him hot and bothered, but your love in real life is much more tantalizing than anything his desperate dreams could conjure up.

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kerink · 25 days ago

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the thing that's been most surprising to me with mouthwashing so far is how little empathy people are willing to extend to curly. and i don't mean this in a piss on the poor way, i'm deeply saddened and genuinely confused by it.

when i first played the game i was at one of the lowest points i've been at in a really long time. my mental health is bad my physical health is bad. i experienced SA a year ago and was recently diagnosed with cancer. i have 2-5 doctors appointments every week with various specialists.

all the while me and two of my doctors are talking about if i need to make a career change that's going to best support my poor health and improve my overall well being. and my family and friends struggle to understand, because i have a doctorate and a good job and live on my own. everyone looks at my life in awe, and they don't understand why i'm unhappy. they tell me so every time i try to explain it.

so when i played i immediately identified with curly. here is a man who's deeply depressed, having hallucinations, trying to reach out to his best friend for support but just has his words thrown back in his face, doesn't want to burden anya with his stuff because she has her own stuff and he wants her to lean on him, he has all these responsibilities and people look up to him and rely on him and have these ideas about him. the highest wrung of their ladder is the lowest of his, and they have no way of conceptualizing why or how he's unhappy and dissatisfied. before the reveal that he's innocent, i completely understood why he attempted suicide.

and then he develops a new disability.

when jimmy goes to crash the ship, he uses curly's unhappiness to try to convince him a murder-suicide is a good idea, and it works. it buys jimmy enough time to get to the cockpit and crash the ship. curly's too in his own head to realize what jimmy meant because jimmy distracted him with how bad his life is. it isn't until the sirens start that curly snaps out of it and it clicks for him what jimmy's done.

i'm not going to re-litigate the issue about if curly could have done more for anya because i've said pretty much all i have to say on it already.

but we really need to highlight that in addition to his lack of tangible choices, he's sleep deprived, deeply depressed, and hallucinating. this is not a man in his right mind making his best choices.

and over and over again i see people refusing to extend him any empathy, to call him a bystander. does a man who says he'll do anything to help and who wanted to be there when anya broke the news and who does his best to play liaison between anya and jimmy sound like a bystander? he let anya keep the gun case! he knew having it would help her feel better!

how good of a friend have you been when you were in your pit of despair? how much were you able to pour into others when your glass was empty?

anya wanted her and curly's support to be reciprocal. if she has enough psych training to do the evals, and having been thru nursing school, she's probably well aware that she and curly need to both be pouring into each other if either of them are going to be any good to anyone. but curly is so determined to defend and protect anya he won't confide in her, despite the fact it's running him so thin that he almost takes jimmy's bait that suicide is a good idea.

i don't think we need to absolve curly of his responsibility. i don't think we should over look his role as an enabler. i don't think we should discredit or discount analyses of his failures. but i'm so tired of people actively avoiding getting in his shoes, getting in his head, reflecting on how they've acted in the past when thinking and feeling similar ways. our worst moments don't make us monsters.

it makes me so sad. and frankly it makes me feel like all the times my family hasn't understood when i've tried to reach out. curly is screaming in agony and just like jimmy we're just trying to keep him quiet because it's too complicated to deal with.

#mouthwashing #ok to reblog

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innerfare · 14 days ago

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You’re Sick - Part 1

Summary: How do they act when you come down with a bad fever?

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Luffy:

Don’t expect him to look the other way when you blow snot all over the place. He’ll laugh and even poke a little fun at you. One thing he won’t do is fuss over you. Sure, he’ll bring you something to eat, and he’ll tell you to get under the blanket if you’re so cold, but he won’t be a mother hen clucking. And it’s comforting, actually. If there’s one thing you can count on from Luffy, it’s for him to remain calm, and he does just that when you come down with a fever, showing up for you without smothering you.

Zoro:

He’s not very good at the nurturing gig. The main thing is that he doesn’t want you to think that he thinks you can’t handle yourself. But… well, he worries. He’s never seen you this way, and the fear of loss is never out of reach for him. He takes to hovering by the door with his arms folded over his chest, even lowering his head to rest his eyes but never once sitting down. It’s not even a conscious thing, him staying on his feet the entire time you’re sick; his instinct is just to protect you, and this is the way he knows.

Sanji:

Soup. Of course he’s going to make soup. And then he’s going to make more soup, so much soup that the entire crew will be eating soup for at least the next week. Sanji doesn’t know what else to do with himself. He has to keep himself busy, though, has to keep his hands moving, or else he’ll find himself in a dark place. Luckily, he knows he can place his faith in Chopper to nurse you back to health. In the meantime, though, he’s going to keep making soup because he knows the power of a good meal.

Ace:

He brushes it off so easily you would think he wasn’t worried- if you didn’t know him, that is. What hits him the hardest when you’re bedridden, though, is how much you take care of him, followed by a fear that he won’t reciprocate well enough and you’ll be cross with him. He never would have imagined his fear of abandonment would rear it’s ugly head at such a time, but there he is, sitting on the end of the bed feeling like his most precious treasure is about to slip through his fingers. He wants to run from it, but he manages to grab your hand and give you a smile, teasing you about your messy hair.

Sabo:

He babies you- the man who rarely picks up the transponder snail and usually hangs up in the middle of the call when he does, the man who can’t be damned to remember most people’s names, the man who seems so utterly blasé most of the time. He drags a damp cloth across your forehead, he takes your temperature every hour, he reads and rereads the label on the medicine you were given by the doctor to be sure you get the right dose at the right time and don’t show any of the adverse side effects listed.

Law:

You expect him to be gruff with you. After all, your boyfriend hasn’t struck you as a doctor famous for his bedside manner. That’s not to say he’s mean, he’s just not very sappy. But when you come down with a fever, you notice a line in his brow you’ve never seen before and quickly realize the depths of his worry. Law is more gentle with you than he’s ever been, even going so far as to quietly spoon feed you. And he holds you the entire time, any risks to his own health be damned.

Kid:

If you didn’t know him so well, you’d think he was mad at you, or at least trying to disturb your sleep because he doesn’t want you to rest. But he snapped at you to sleep in his bed, not your own, and when he comes into his cabin every fifteen minutes, you recognize his extra loud footsteps and irate muttering about you coughing all over his sheets as concern. Eventually, he sits in a chair by the bed with a hunk of metal in his hands that he fidgets with while he watches over you, barking at Killer to bring you something hot.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece fluff #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #sabo x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #captain kid x reader #eustass kid x reader #one piece x reader

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reiderwriter · 11 months ago

Text

Please Accept My Apology

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After three days spent trying to convince the BAU that they had made a mistake, Spencer Reid shows up at your door to offer his apology.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, smut 18+ minors dni, slight age gap, penetrative sex, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, name calling, degradation, hints of bdsm, implied creampie etc.

You can find my masterlist here and my 2024 song fic challenge here (don't forget to send song recommendations to my inbox!)

You never thought you'd ever see the inside of an interrogation room before this week. Now you didn't think you'd ever see the outside of it.

“Y/N, you're brother ran from law enforcement multiple times, if you know where he is you need to tell us or you'll be charged with accessory to murder and kidnapping after the fact. Is that what you want?”

“Of course it isn't what I want, but I already told you I can't fucking help you!”

You paced in the boxed room, feeling closed in and hot.

Your brother - your innocent brother - was the key suspect in a series of child abductions and murders, and as he'd ran from law enforcement multiple times, they'd dragged you into the police precinct to try to track him down.

For the last three days, you'd been stuck sitting at that table across from Doctor Spencer Reid, waiting for the worst news of your life, because you knew it was coming.

“He's not a murderer. He's mentally ill, but he wouldn't hurt anyone. I keep telling you that, why won't you believe me?”

“A lot of loved ones protest a suspect's innocence, right down to the last second.” You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from the depth of your chest.

“My brother is schizophrenic. He was violent before, sure, he had outbursts. But he has been monitoring his meds for the last three years perfectly. He has a job, he has a son. He would not hurt those kids.”

You had always looked up to your elder brother, even through the tough years.

He'd inherited both your fathers drinking problem and your mother's mental illness, each demon feeding the other until he had a breakdown at age 19.

You were only 17 yourself, but with no one else to hold him accountable, you'd been there. You'd checked him into a facility, you drove him to each of his doctor's appointments when he was clean. You'd been around for each sober anniversary, for each birthday and holiday and celebration that he'd made it one more year without falling into himself.

He'd reciprocated by being the most reliable man you knew. He helped put you through college when he was stable enough, he'd managed to work his way up in the ranks at his construction job. He had a beautiful wife (currently in another interrogation room with another agent) and the cutest little boy.

He'd promised you that your family struggles would end with the two of you. You'd promised each other to take care of each others families if anything happened to them in the future, and while you currently had no family to speak of, you sure as hell were going to make sure that your nephew never wanted for anything in his life.

Your brother wasn't a murderer, and you had proof enough.

“You know, you haven't asked me yet why I think he's innocent.” You took your seat again, and gathered your hands together on the table, leaning in closer to the agent in front of you.

You watched him think for a second, then mirror your pose, leaning in just as close, eyes locked with yours.

You'd talked about a lot of things these past three days, and you got the idea that he was a bit of a jackass. If not a jackass, then at least big-headed; he'd practically shouted his title of Doctor at you as he'd walked in, and made sure to correct you every time you'd called him agent or sir.

You kept doing it just to piss him off eventually.

“It's denial, Miss Y/L/N. You don't want to see the signs you'd ignored for that lingered, so you beg and protest and plead, hoping that eventually you'll turn out to be correct.” His voice was low, but you caught every word.

“While I am sure you know what you're talking about Agent Reid, that is not why I'm here still. I'm not being charged with a crime, and I've been here much longer than 24 hours. I'm free to go at any point, but I'm sticking around here, lawyer free, because I want to watch your face when you realise you'd been wrong this entire time.”

He shifted uncomfortably and you smiled, happy to get under his skin once again.

“Okay, Miss Y/L/N. What makes you so sure your brother is innocent?”

“Your profile.” His eyes slightly widened at that, and you basked in it, leaning back and waiting for him to take the bait as the tide turned in your conversation.

“We profiled that our unsub would be late 20s to early 30s, probably a family man who'd likely been abused as a child. The profile also suggested he may have had a psychotic break recently, likely as a result of coming off his meds. Your brother fits the profile, Y/N.”

He'd dug his own grave, and you were happy to see him getting ready to sleep in it too.

“No, he doesn't, Agent.”

A tense silence passed between you, and you knew his gaze was fixed on you. You let your eyes dart elsewhere, rolling down his body to his hands. They were totally still of course, but you could see how tense he was by the way he pushed them flat against the table, almost as if he were trying to ground himself, finding reassurance in the pressure.

“How does he not fit the profile?” His brows were knitted together, and his expression was one of annoyance now.

No matter how much you had shouted or let out your frustrations these past few days, he'd kept a placid look of sympathy plastered across his features. He hadn't listened, or even suggested he'd wanted to, assuming your brother was guilty.

Now he was annoyed, as if he had the right.

“Despite what your records supposedly tell you, my brother is not off his meds.”

“Miss Y/L/N, we know that your brother did not refill his prescription three months ago, and that he looked into some clinical trials in the metropolitan area and was rejected.”

“Congratulations for having 50% of the facts. My brother wasn't rejected from those trials, he withdrew because they changed the terms. They wanted to study my nephew as well to see if they could predict where hereditary cases of Schizophrenia would manifest.”

You leaned in again now, enjoying watching the thoughts rush through Spencer Reid's head once again.

“His health insurance had some issues after the withdrawal, so his prescription couldn't be filled until next week, but my brother always had six months of pills delivered.”

You watched the realisation come crashing down on the agent in front of you, though he was doing a good job of keeping himself out together.

It was time to end this conversation.

“To take part in the clinical trial, he needed to stop taking his regular medication for two weeks. Meaning he has two more weeks of his regular medication. I watched him take it Monday morning, right about when your second kidnapping occurred. My sister-in-law will confirm.”

He stood from his chair slowly and nodded at you, making his way to the door.

“And Agent Reid?” You said making sure to hold his attention one last time before he could leave. “If anything happens to my brother, I will hold you responsible.”

He slipped from the room without another word, and you relaxed into the chair, letting your eyes fall shut as you waited patiently.

Xxx

It was another week before your brother was totally cleared. He'd turned himself into law enforcement the same day you'd forced the BAU to reevaluate their profile, and both he and his wife had cracked up your story.

With nothing else to distract them, you'd been happily informed that they'd caught the actual perpetrator, and saved another victim.

You were back at home now, trying to relax, to get back on track.

You knew by the knock on the door that you weren't going to get back to your normal routine just yet.

“Agent Reid, I wasn't expecting you.” He was there at your door, and you had to brush off a wave of annoyance, forcing yourself not to slam the thing in his goddamn face.

“It's Doctor Reid. You know that, though.” He mumbled the words, jaw tense as he heaved out a sigh, trying to get to his point but being distracted by your prickly words.

“I came to talk. May I come inside?”

“We talked for three days straight, Doc. What else could we possibly need to discuss?” You made sure to block the door with your body, one arm resting on the doorframe as you leant across it, the other holding the door tightly next to you.

You thought he'd get the idea, tuck his tail between his legs, and swiftly leave you alone, but you were sadly mistaken.

Instead his eyes raked over your body as you put it on display, curiously exploring every inch you put in his eyeline.

“May I come in?” He repeated, eyes still trailing down your body. If it weren't for the heat building inside of you, you'd have slammed the door in his face. A moment's hesitation was all you got instead, as he locked eyes with you again, and you reluctantly moved an inch to the side.

You stayed there in the doorway even as he entered, his body brushing against yours almost intimately for the second, his hand faintly tracing over your hip as he stepped inside, watching you all the time.

Needing desperately to gain your composure back, you jumped into asking questions. “You're in now. What do you want?”

“I wanted to apologise.” He hadn't moved far into the apartment, and you realised aa soon as you turned away from locking the door, overestimating his distance. You spun right into his arms, one of his palms coming to your waist to steady you as the other steadied the two of you against the wall.

“And whatever would the wonderful Doctor Reid need to apologise for?”

Your words were venomous, but the heat in them rose from somewhere deeper than the acid in your stomach, somewhere more fiery than the burning sensation at the back of your throat.

“I'm trying to do the right thing here, Y/N.”

“After a week of doing the wrong thing, Spencer, I'm not sure you're fully capable of that.”

His brows furrowed as he pouted, and you hated his proximity, both too close and too far at the same time. You wanted to run him apart, and then delicately sew him back together.

“I was doing my job.”

“You almost got my brother killed.”

“I'm sorry.” He heaved out an exasperated breath with the words, body relaxing and pushing your back fully against the wall. His eyes widened, and you could tell that he hadn't meant to move you in that way, but you just stared at him still, eyes flicking down to his lips with every intrusive thought.

This was how close you needed him.

“I don't give a shit if you're sorry.” You meant the words to be harsh a warning, but you hadn't realised your heartbeat bursting from your throat, your breathy gasps for air making it sound more erotic than angry.

He blinked once, then twice, slowly as if he was a scientist observing an experiment, not wanting to take his eyes off of it until he was certain something wouldn't happen.

“You're enjoying this.”

“I'm not.”

“Your heart rate is at 127 bpm, your pupils are dilated, your breathing is shallow. You're enjoying this. Why?”

His hands didn't let up, even as he shot out his words, brows furrowing further as you resisted the urge to push him away.

It was more comfortable keeping him close.

“I told you I am not enjoying this. You're just too close.”

“So, you're having a physical reaction to me?” He asked, almost quizzically. You had expected to hear a triumphant smirk or something in his voice, but he seemed genuinely curious.

“For God's sake, Spencer, yes. Yes, you're close and it's making me uncomfortable. You spent three days making me feel uncomfortable, and now you've come back for round two, are you happy now?”

“You're not uncomfortable,” he shot out again, almost as if he couldn't stop the words from spilling out. “You're aroused.”

“Know it all.” He laughed at that, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks. You weren't sure what the hell was going on with your body, because you'd spent the week despising the man in front of you, but now a simple hand on your wrist and a laugh had you blushing like a schoolgirl.

“So what if I am aroused? You're touching me, you have me pinned against the wall, really this is your fault, Agent.”

“It's Doctor, but you can call me Spencer. Or you can go back to another colourful insult if you'd prefer?”

“You're pretty full of yourself, I thought you came to apologise.”

“I did, it's not exactly me that is acting like they want to be filled right now though.”

“Jackass,” you snapped, as he lowered his hand around to cup your ass, finally allowing himself a tiny hint at the smirk you'd predicted earlier.

You gasped as he took a handful of your ass and pulled you flush against him.

“I want to say sorry, I want to make it up to you. I'm being quite charitable here.”

“Charity, my dear Doctor, is where you give something and expect nothing in return. It seems like you want something in return.” You spat the words again but you let your hands press lightly against his chest, waiting for him to make the next move as you played with the buttons of his shirt.

“I'd be more than happy to do that, too.”

You weren't sure who reached for who, or which one of you made the first push, but you were suddenly joined together by your lips, each of you battling furiously for dominance.

Your hands pushed up desperately, clawing into his long, busy strands and pulling him down further into you as you worked against him.

He was still stronger than you though, so when he forced your head back an inch, you moved out of necessity.

“Is that enough, or should I keep apologising?”

“Nowhere near enough, jacka-” he cut you off by pushing the tip of his thumb into your mouth, using one of his legs to spread yours so he could nuzzle himself between them.

“Why so quiet now? We couldn't shut you up in those interrogation rooms, but now you're so polite and obedient.” You moaned around his thumb as he stroked your tongue, encouraging you to suck it.

You didn't need much instruction, desperate now to show off your superior skills to the man in front of you.

“That's it, show me how much you want it, my little whore.”

His hand slipped into your pants quietly, but you twitched as his hands feathered their way along your pelvic bone, twitching at the sensitivity of the connection.

His hands slipped into your panties and you knew immediately it was over for you. You were so wet, and he was going to be able to tell just how much you apparently wanted him.

You moaned as he roughly pushed your pants down, finger teasing your cunt through your panties as you still struggled to suck his thumb so you didn't make any louder noises.

“You're enjoying this.” It was no longer a question, but a confident statement, no curiosity but simple satisfaction at how good he was making you feel.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, rubbing some saliva across your lips to make them shine before he turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. Your hands barely pushed out in from of you before your chest collided with the wall, and he was close behind you.

As he coaxed your panties down your legs, you closed your eyes and tried to keep your breathing steady, desperately clinging to some high ground where you could find it.

His fingers were hot and long, and they quickly found your clit and got to work as he ground his hard cock against your bare ass.

His pants were still on, but you could feel the outline of his dick against you, hips rutting back into him with each flick of his wrist.

“Now, come on Y/N. You said it's not charity if I receive something in return, right?” He whispered into your ear as you tried to reach behind you to grab his dick.

“We're going to take this nice and slow, and you're going to enjoy all of it.”

His fingers slowed to an aching pace as he finally pushed a first digit inside of you. His hips finished moving and his free hand held you still too, so the only friction was coming from that one hand between your legs, practically edging you.

“Fuck me, just fuck me Spencer.” You moaned in frustration.

“Doctor.” He whispered in your ear, the glee in his voice igniting your hatred of him all over again.

“What?” You spat out.

“Call me Doctor Reid, and I'll give you anything you want. You want to cum, right?”

His fingers kept their slow pace, and you could feel yourself growing more impatient, even as you grit your teeth together.

“Fuck me, Doctor Reid.”

“What about please?”

“Fuck you.” You instantly regretted your words when he pulled his hands off your body completely, retreating further into your house.

“No, shit, wait.-”

You scrambled after him as he took a seat on your couch, removing his jacket and loosening his already dishevelled tie.

“What do you want, Y/N?” He asked, palming himself through his pants as he watched you practically fall at his feet, needing his hands back on you.

“I want you to f-fuck me, please Doctor Reid.” He nodded slightly, pulling your remaining clothing off as he responded.

“That's a good little slut.” He led your hand over his cock and let you undo the buttons and pull him out. You needed no other instructions as he leaned back and pulled your legs into a firmer position.

You gave his cock a few strokes before lifting your hips and sinking back down onto him.

“So fucking wet for me, you were so aroused, baby.”

He didn't let you control the pace, but held your hips still just above him as he began pushing into you from below, lifting his hips to fill you up with each thrust.

You couldn't bite back the screams as his balls slapped against you, Spencer trying his best to fit his entire length into you with each deep thrust. You wanted to kill the man only an hour earlier, and now you were sure you wanted to have him inside you like this forever.

“Oh fuck, just like that, just like that Spencer please!”

Your hand drifted down to your cunt and you're began to rub feverishly, even as you felt the pressure build up from your gut.

The pressure was almost unbearable and before you knew it you were squirting on his cock, fingers splashing wave after wave of your arousal over his cock and clothes.

“Already squirting for me? I thought you didn't want anything to do with me, Y/N. I guess you are just a little whore.”

You twitched, but couldn't respond, as he began thrusting sloppier than ever before, grunting in your ear as he finally joined you in your mess.

His grip on your hip slipped as he finally started cumning, and you moaned feeling him so deep as he gathered you in his arms and pulled you chest to chest.

You sat there panting together for an eternity before you even thought about detangling your limbs from one another.

“You made a mess of my fucking sofa.” You said as you finally rose up slightly, looking down at the mess beneath you.

“No, Y/N, that was you. I simply helped.”

“Jackass.”

“Whore.”

You gasped as he laughed at you again, pulling your hips back down over his so you couldn't slide off his cock again.

“Don't act so scandalised when I can feel just how much that turned you on. You're enjoying this.”

You pouted a little, but let your head fall back against his chest.

“And what if I am, Agent Reid?”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic

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metanoiahh · 5 months ago

Text

Get off my back - Daryl Dixon

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚꩜ ➴

Summary: A great fascination for the youngest Dixon took over you ever since the Quarry. Daryl notices and in fear of reciprocating your feelings, he continuously pushes you away. After Andrea shoots him, you don’t leave his side with the excuse of keeping an eye on him.

Warnings: Implied age gap (reader early 20s, Daryl late 30s) Fem!reader, Usual TWD gore, mentions of injuries, angst, yelling, mean!Daryl, failed-ish attempts of comfort, slightly medically skilled!reader, cigarettes, Daryl being a little too abrasive.

Era(s): Quarry, Greene farm.

Word count: 1.7k

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚꩜ ➴

Your eyes were trained on him the second you got to the group. As days went by, he seemed to have cast a spell on you, hypnotised you with something only he had. You saw beyond his mean persona, his rugged ways only making his vulnerability shine through. How you treated him didn't go unnoticed, not by him, certainly not by the rest. Always ensuring he had everything he could use before leaving for a hunt, sparing him extra food because 'He needed the extra energy', even small insignificant details like leaving his folded clothes at his tent door were starting to get to him. He felt like you could read him better than he could himself, which made him want to hate you.

Daryl kept everyone at a distance, but you were kept even farther. It bothered you and occupied your thoughts like a plague, you were practically living with the sole purpose of showing him he was worth everything you'd ever do and more. He had pulled something within you, although it was beyond your comprehension, you let your instincts and desire take you over. You were anything but pushy, you didn't try to force yourself onto his life, content with giving and not receiving even a glance your way in return. The archer hated that he couldn't bring himself to hate you.

In a fucked up world where the dead roamed, injuring oneself with the simple task of carrying firewood seemed flat-out stupid. Angry mumbles escaped the man as the log fell with a thud. "Goddamnit." Your eyes lifted from your task of shaping branches as stakes, at the sound of Daryl's grumbles. Blood dripped down to the ground as the blue-eyed man fixated on his newly obtained cut.

"Sit." You pointed to the nearest makeshift seat, marching your way inside your tent to look for your precarious medical supplies. "Wha' " He growled, squinted eyes now settled in your back, as he obeyed your command.

"You heard me." You replied in a quiet mumble, carrying alcohol, iodine, and bandages in one hand. You accommodated yourself on the ground at his feet, hands grasping his injured one in one swift but gentle motion. "Won't need stitches." You assured. Worried demeanor showed through your actions and on this occasion, he couldn't look away.

His stare changed from your face to your working consistently, as you finished wrapping the bandage expertly he looked at you through his eyebrows. "Ya' a doctor 'fore all this?"

A nostalgic smile crept up your face, usually content eyes now clouding with sadness. At your change of aura, he wished he could take back the question, even if he didn't understand what was wrong in his doing. "Sorry." He spoke barely above a whisper, raspy voice making him nearly unintelligible

"Third year of med-school. 'bout to start my fourth." He nodded, now wrapping his mind around your medical knowledge, you did look too young to be a doctor.

After that evening he stayed even further from you, which you didn't think possible. Still, you abstained from offering to look after his wound, knowing he was capable of doing that himself, and knew it would bother him to have the obligation of holding a conversation with you every day. The archer hated that you knew all that, proving his point of you being able to read him like your favourite goddamn romantic novel. If his mind stayed too much upon it, he would drive himself insane.

The next few weeks were hectic, in a matter of days you were already starting to get settled in a new location, a family farm that was lending you the place till the shot kid, Carl, healed and the lost kid, Sophia, whom Daryl frantically looked for, resurfaced from god knows where.

You paced around camp, Daryl had left earlier that morning and while that wasn't odd, the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach was. "He's fine." Carol smiled at you, laying a comforting hand on your shoulder. Your brows furrowed, answering your own silent question as to how she knew what was on your mind. Being sly was never your strength.

"I know." You smiled, rubbing her back up and down in a reciprocation of her action. You admired how she stood strongly, after the death of her asshole husband and the disappearance of her daughter, she had survivor written all over her face. The calm atmosphere faded at the series of unfortunate events that continued to unfold before you. A shot, screaming and a bloody, limp archer being carried inside the house.

As Hershel worked on the wound at his torso, which you were relieved to know was not a walker bite, you got your hands on the bullet graze at the side of his head. The youngest Dixon would be fine, back on his feet in a few days time, that didn't wash away your anger at the blonde now standing behind you. "Oh my god, he's going to be fine, right?" Andrea questioned for the billionth time.

Your eyes travelled back to her. "You won't be if you don't shut your mouth." Attention back on your stitching, you mumbled an unintelligible cuss, anger practically bubbling out of you.

That night you slept curled up in a chair next to his sleeping form. He had woken up multiple times, only having the strength to look around the room and then doze off once again. You kept constantly waking up to check for a fever, maybe a broken stitch, anything putting his life at stake, your mind could not rest easy. Andrea had apologised to him and even to you, but you brushed her off, too angry to hold a conversation on the topic still.

The idea of not having the archer around made your heart sink. His rough hands that you ached to hold, blue eyes that got smaller the brighter his surroundings got, the unsympathetic yet very empathic personality that made him so fucking special, and his fear of being loved which pulled you close to him. Losing Daryl Dixon would've made you wish you stayed at the CDC. That would've been the day when you wouldn't be grateful at Doctor Jenner for giving you a shot at life.

"You need to stay in bed!" Exasperated, you grabbed both of the brunette's shoulders, pushing him down on the bed. The morning of the second day after his accident, Daryl wanted to get back on his normal doings. He glared at you sideways, the corner of his mouth lifting up before he spat out the words.

"Get off my back, bitch. Don’ need ya’ pesterin’ me like you’re ma’ goddamn babysitter.” He pushed you off him with a strength he couldn't seem to control under his rage spell. The volume of his voice grew louder by the second. “Always ´round ‘ere. Big brown eyes starin’ like I’m bein’ exhibited. I ain’t your pet. Sure as hell ain't your boyfriend.” Now on his feet, he held the bedsheets to his torso as he looked over the room for his clothes.

You stared at him, not a sign of emotion on your features, though you wished you could yell back, maybe even shed a tear or two, but you knew it would be uncalled for. Same way everything you had been doing was.

You extended your hand holding a pile of folded clothes, his folded clothes. The brunette snatched them from your grip without care, launching them onto the mattress behind him.

His body caged yours, one of his hands gripped your forearm as you were backed up into a wall. Your free hand went to rest against his bare chest, no pressure inflicted nonetheless. “Dar..” You whispered, chin pointing towards the ceiling to look into his eyes.

“Don’ call me that like I’m your friend. Ya’ could be gone tomorrow ‘n I wouldn’t give a goddamn shit.” His grip tightened as his face inched closer to your own, so much his breath fanned over the tip of your nose. "Yer so desperate t'be loved it shows how ya never have been before, but I don't do charity, so go bother somebody else and leave me the hell alone!."

He stood like that for half a minute, keeping you in place with his hand clutching your skin tight, though his grip fell the second he noticed a hint of pain in your eyes, though you weren't sure if it was for his grip or his words, implying you weren't worthy of anything. Making you feel small. He pushed himself off you, taking a good few steps back. "Get the hell outta 'ere." He yelled, pointing with his uninjured side to the, hopefully empty, hall behind the bedroom door.

You had vanished. Completely erased yourself from existence for the rest of the day. You grabbed the pack of cigarettes you had kept after your last run, a lighter, and climbed up the tree furthest away from everyone. You sat on the wide branch with your knees to your chest, the stilled bike belonging to the man you had pestered all this time staring right back at you, yelling the same words he had hours ago. He was right, couldn´t argue against anything he said, as much as it hurt, it was the truth.

You were down to the last two tobacco sticks, an unlit one being hugged by your reddened lips from all the nervous biting. "Hard as shit lookin' for ya in this state." His grumble woke you up from your daydreaming, eyes landing right on his as you brought the fire to your cigarette. "Wha's doctor doin' with a smoke? Don' tha' kill you?" He tried to joke around after being met with radio silence on your part. Attempting to rip something out of you.

A small smile formed on your lips, shrugging. "Gonna die sooner or later." You weren´t big on it, but ever since you were sixteen cigarettes were a habit of you that was embarrassingly hard to let go of. His head was at level with your legs, you weren´t too far up and he didn't lack height. Hence why he easily reached for the last cigarette and the red lighter beside you, lighting it up swiftly.

" 'm sorry." He whispered. The view you had was one you wanted carved onto your skin. The sun setting behind the archer, his dirty blond hair being lit up by the orange beaming from the large figure. Cigarette between his lips, as well as your own, and a shy hand, going to rest on your calf in an awkward comfort-inducing mannerism he wasn´t too experienced with.

" 's fine." You smiled, hand enveloping his. "i'll get off your back."

"Don'. I like ya' pesterin' me."

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚꩜ ➴

i kinda hate it but i got it done lol

Anyway, my requests are open! please leave me anything you'd want to read and with no promised deadline I'll get it done :)

#twd #daryl dixon #daryl twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon

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garkgatiss · 6 months ago

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keep thinking about how ruby decides instantly that it's her purpose to save the world from roger ap gwilliam, that she recognizes the callback to just before the doctor disappeared, and she's sure that this is what the woman has been following her for and what will finally break the time loop. and then it isn't. it was just something she decided to do. a story that her pattern-seeking brain put together and created rules for that she tried to steer into a satisfying ending. i've seen complaints that the episode feels like two different concepts that could have each been their own episodes that got weirdly forced together in a way that didn't connect them at all, but like that's the whole point! ruby said nope, i'm turning this folk horror metaphor for my attachment issues into a save-the-world hero story! to cope! the world gave me setup so i'm bringing the followthrough! except in the end, the story didn't reciprocate, and ultimately she was just a rather lonely woman who was living her rather lonely life and decided to save the world, and it didn't heal her attachment issues, but it did help some other people, and it did pass the time. which is why this episode is also about the doctor

#doctor who #73 yards

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ma1dita · 8 months ago

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solipsism

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant)

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! more to come like i promised even during my birthday break ! scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )

—

solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)

You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace.

“Holy shit, you scared me!”

There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.

“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.

“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”

You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.

“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”

Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.

“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.

“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”

To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.

“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”

These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.

“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.

i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)

Flick. Flick.

“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.

Breathe in.

It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”

Breathe out.

“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed.

Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.

“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”

You’ve always been able to see right through him.

He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose?

This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.

“I can, if you want me to.”

He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.

“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.

“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.

“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”

He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.

Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”

“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.

Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.

“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.

“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”

You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.

You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.

ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)

Knock, knock.

There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.

“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.

The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”

“Who’s Kit?”

Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.

“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”

He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.

“I’ll make the time if you say the words, Trouble.”

Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.

“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.

“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.”

Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”

There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.

“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”

His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.

“A few months ahead.”

There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”

You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.

“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”

You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.

“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”

And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.

“What happens next?”

Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.

“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.

“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.

“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.

“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”

It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.

Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.

“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”

When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.

Knock, knock.

Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.

iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)

Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape.

Clack, clack.

The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you.

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”

He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.

“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.

“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.

“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.”

He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill.

Clack, clack.

Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.

“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco.

You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.

iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you)

It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning.

The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.

Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for.

Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.

So, what are your future plans?

Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist!

Gods.

How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow.

Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?

A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.

“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.

“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.

“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, Trouble.”

Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.

You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.

Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”

“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”

A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”

You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.

“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”

He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—with you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.

“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.

“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”

“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.

“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”

“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.

“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”

Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.

“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”

He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.

“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”

It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before.

“Just someone I used to know.”

—

“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)

1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo x reader #made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan imagine #percy series #luke castellan angst #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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beddybites · 11 days ago

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hi friends! big rant incoming— i want to clarify this isnt targeted at anyone, im just noticing a pattern and im getting a little upset with some of the requests im being sent ):

something that really bothers me is the babyfication of giyuu tomioka. the fandom infantilizes the dude way too much. and its even worse when you throw shinobu into the mix and have her being a maternal figure to him when she herself is an eighteen year old who has worked as a hashira since she was a teenager. she does not need to be put into these situations where she’s taking care of her older peers all the time

i see this happen a lot and i feel its rooted in misogyny whether people recognize it or not. almost always the male characters are thrown into positions where the female character has to take care of them and its really frustrating

shinobu isnt a maternal character at all. to inosuke and the younger ones, it’s different, but if i keep seeing her being a mom to giyuu im actually going to lose my mind. giyuu isnt some uwu depressed baby who cant stand up for himself. he is just as mean as sanemi and obanai. he trained to survive and operate in horrible situations and fight for his life for years. hes a grown man and a hashira. he would not be babied by anyone, especially not someone who he has known since she was around fourteen years old

you may say “well ghostbite dont you do this with mitsuri and obanai”… sure. perhaps i am a hypocrite. but you must remember mitsuri is just sort of like that. she loves cute things and she loves fawning over everyone and everything. her scenes with nezuko. her introduction scene in the hashira meeting with her gushing over everyone. she hand feeds tanjiro pancakes in the recent season. she refers to people as “cutie.” etc etc etc

the difference with obanai and giyuu is obanai is often characterized as a yandere simp who is a huge bully to giyuu and tanjiro. he’s not. i like to put him in deaging situations a lot because unlike everyone else, he’s been through hell since birth. he’s never, not once, had a moment of peace. he had no siblings growing up to protect him— he had no loving parents, etc. he never felt love and he believes he is undeserving of it and should never reciprocate it. so here comes mitsuri, the epitome of love. he takes care of her. he watches after her. he is devoted to her. if something happens to him, especially if it’s a situation where he’s much smaller and weaker and in need of care, mitsuri would drop everything to help him. if it were mitsuri, obanai would do the same for her. it’s in both of their characters to do this. them being in these situations makes sense

i love shinobu. she would not. she does what a doctor does, looks for a cure, checks in here and there, and leaves it at that. she is not giyuu’s “mama.” she is an eighteen year old girl who has her own bucketload of issues. if you need her in a maternal role then use inosuke or literally any of the butterfly girls— the kids she actually takes in and takes care of. not her 21 year old coworker who is more than capable

if anything i think shinobu should be put in deaging situations. have giyuu take care of her instead. mix it up a little. but people are so attached to the idea of having every single caregiver role go to the woman that it’s unlikely we’ll see that

this is not a criticism on giyuu. i love giyuu. but i need people to stop treating him like a defenseless baby, and for people to quit seeing shinobu as responsible for him as a caregiver or a mother

tdlr: please stop asking me to draw or write deaged giyuu stuff. someone else can do that. i dont like deaged giyuu. tiny 21 trio is essentially on hold because of this ): i keep getting nonstop requests for deaged giyuu and im so tired, especially because people are framing it in a “you should replace obanai with giyuu” lens, or adding “mama shinobu doing x with baby giyuu”

it’s tiresome and frustrating. i love to make content for you guys, and i love when its something that appeals to you in a comforting way, but if you want specific content with giyuu— you’re very much in the wrong place. i hate the fandomification of him and shinobu— it makes me uncomfy and sad.

other people are deaging giyuu and putting him in situations— go ask them instead of me. i would rather highlight misunderstood and underrated characters like obanai and gyomei or my own personal faves (muichiro) then constantly loop the same exact character over and over again

all this to say im doubling down on the babybu and babynai and pintsized pillars aus. if you keep asking for baby giyuu and maternal figure shinobu my spite makes me stronger. hashtag let shinobu be taken care of for once. she’s already the doctor for an entire organization give my girl a break

#askbites #not artbites #bitetalks #rant #demon slayer #kny #giyuu tomioka #shinobu kocho #obanai iguro #mitsuri kanroji #again this isnt targeted #i just rlly need people to stop sending me these things #and im tired of seeing the mischaracterizations and constant misogny going on #shinobu get behind me #mischaracterization #fandom #fandomification

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x3luvr · 4 months ago

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Doctors Orders —

Trafalgar Law x Reader

(Established Relationship, Slightly Suggestive, Fluff)

“Law, I feel sick.” Your unusually frail frame entered the captain’s lab, as you shifted his attention away from the medical books he was absorbed in. The dark haired man eyed your appearance, noting for any visible differences before getting up and placing a hand on your forehead.

“Hm.” He noted to himself as his expression appeared focused and calculating. “You should sit down.” Law gestured at the patients bed whilst keeping a firm grip on your arm to prevent you from stumbling.

As you waited for your lover, you observed him at work. The way his white doctor’s coat swayed, the way his long lashes batted at the countless medicines in his cabinet, and the way his touch was piercing cold as he examined your body.

“Love, you’ll have to take a blood test.” Law lifted your sleeve, gently caressing your skin in the process.

“No way, you know those freak me out.” You pulled away from his touch, watching a sigh escape his lips before a hand reached out to rub the side of your shoulder.

“I know, but your health is more important right now.” He softly replied, making a good point considering the sickly state you were in. And so, with some convincing you raised your sleeve and shut your eyes.

“Please make it quick!” You pleaded, as the sensation of your skin being pierced and blood being extracted made you woozy. You couldn’t help but tug at his coat, which caused a chain of sweet words to slip from his mouth.

“You’re fine sweetheart, almost done, you’re doing well.” Law swiftly patched you up before placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

As the pair of you waited for the blood sample results, a small smile perked at the corner of your lips. After all, your loving boyfriend went through all this trouble for you, it wouldn’t be fair if he didn’t get anything in return. Not that he’d ever expect anything.

“Law, c'mere.” You playfully gestured. Attempting to ignore the fatigue currently consuming your body. As he stood before you, your fingers began brushing along his features. Up his neck, across his jaw and against his lips. “What would I do without you?” You whispered, just loud enough to reach his senses.

Law didn’t refrain from your intimate touches. So when you brought him in for a kiss, he reciprocated by leaning further into you, placing one of his tattooed hands on your thigh and the other on the small of your back. His lips against yours with the occasional slip of the tongue formed lust in the air. However, as your legs caged his waist and his hands slipped lower and lower down, the Captain unexpectedly pulled away.

“You’re unwell love, this can wait for another time.” Law spoke, catching his breath in the process. You frowned at him, evidently disappointed. Yet deep inside, you didn’t expect a simple kiss to get as heated as it did.

“You killed my high just then.” You crossed your arms, watching him go over the results of your blood test before shoving a series of pills in your direction.

“Yeah? Well you might actually die considering how low your iron and magnesium levels are.” The dark haired man spoke with disapproval lacing his tone. “Seriously, you need to take better care of yourself.”

It was evident how much Law cherished you, especially when he’d go on long tangents about the importance of staying healthy and blah blah blah..

You finally stood up, cutting your lover off mid sentence by throwing your arms over his neck and smoothing his face full of kisses. “Sorry doc, won’t happen again.” You grinned at his taken aback expression.

“Yeah.. yeah.” He mumbled, averting his gaze from meeting yours. “And about earlier, I’ll make it up to you, so you better start taking your meds now.” A tint of blush formed on Law’s face, before he fled the scene by clearing his throat and excusing himself.

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oxymorayuri · 1 month ago

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❞𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞❝

[ Ace | Kid | Law | Doffy ] Summary » Get down on your knees, sweetie and hold on tight. He will make you feel how much he wants you and give you what you need, you dirty girl. pssst... you don't have to be in a relationship to have your first time ;) Warnings » Mature content - "BDSM" - rough sex - rape »»» If you have problems with he content marked in red, please don't read the part with Doflamingo <3 - NO PROOFREADING -

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Law, Kid, Doffy : xuchuan/序川_ | Ace: kameoka908

A/N: The results of the last poll showed that this was the topic you wanted most. I can understand that (you naughty ones, lol), but I think it's sad that "He confesses his love?!" didn't win... *puts it in drafts anyway*

Some songs I heard while writing 🔥 ; Ari Abdul - Girls On The Internet / Mickey Valen - Chills (feat. Joey Myron) / Kailee Morgue - Siren / Shaker - BODY

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃. 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐰

[ 2086 words ]

Without any understanding of what is happening around you, you kneel on the floor with your hands tied behind your back.

A blindfold prevents you from seeing what Law is planning to do to you, his steps are barely audible but you turn your head every time you hear a small sound.

The cold air wraps around your exposed body like silk, hardening your nipples and the only thing you can hear is the clacking sound of Law's shoes, while he circles around you like a predator.

Your breathing is a little heavy and nervous, waiting for something to happen, for Law to touch you, but Law just enjoys the sight.

He crouches down behind you, whispering in your ear with his deep yet calm voice, with no intention of touching you.

“Just for the record, you really want this, y/n-ya?”

Shivers run down your spine, making your heart beat faster, because his calm voice carries something commanding, something dangerous... something that makes you addicted.

“Y-Yes…” You whisper.

The corners of his mouth turn up into a dirty grin and he stands up again, leaving you kneeling on the cold floor.

"We'd better keep this between the two of us, you understand that, right?" His voice seems a little further away and shortly afterwards you hear something that sounds like rubber snapping against skin.

He slowly walks towards you again, his eyes wandering along your fine curves illuminated by the bright lamps, while he unbuttons his shirt to take it off.

“Yes…” you say quietly but this time with a firm undertone.

You can hardly believe how you both came to this, but you know that when you leave this room again, you have to pretend it never happened.

After all, this is not a passionate encounter between you… More like one between doctor and patient... although it looks a bit bizarre, but Law is just doing you a favor.

At least that's what you think, since there were never any kind of romantic signs between you… despite the fact that you have feelings for him, but you don't think he'll reciprocate.

“How are your knees? Do they hurt?” - “No, they don't.” You adjust yourself briefly, the long kneeling is indeed making itself felt, but somehow you like kneeling before him like a prisoner… without defense, just as nature created you…

and placed under the light of the infirmary.

It feels really good...

“Good girl.” His voice hums and excitement rises in you. You can literally hear the smile on his lips, while you neither know where he really is nor what he's up to.

Standing just a step in front of you, Law looks down at you as you stare cluelessly ahead, not really realizing that he's standing right in front of you.

"Look up at me, y/n-ya" You are taken aback by the near sound of his voice and just as he commands, you tilt your head back and look up.

“Good girl.” His praise makes you feel weak inside and the tingling in your stomach grows stronger towards your longing little cunt.

A feeling that you've missed so much and why you're both here...

It was certainly unpleasant to talk to Law about the fact that you have difficulty getting aroused, but you never dreamed it would come to this.

You had rather thought that there was a drug similar to viagra. A stimulant that would increase the humidity in your cave, but Law had a different idea. This one…

He crouches down and grabs your chin, watching you breathe heavily through your nose at the sudden touch and brushes his thumb over your bottom lip.

The feeling of the latex gloves is a little foreign, but you can feel the warmth of his hand. He presses a little against your teeth, causing you to open your mouth and welcome his thumb into your hot mouth.

As if under hypnosis, you suck on his finger and hear a satisfied hum from Law. He changes his finger and you greedily run your tongue around it.

“You're such a good girl…”

His finger leaves your mouth and strokes down your neck to your belly, leaving a wet trail of saliva behind.

His hand moves further down and you suck in your breath as he briefly runs two fingers through your puffy folds. The sudden touch pierces through your body and makes you aching for more.

Unfortunately for you, he prefers to take his time with you, which he obviously enjoys. Who could blame him?

Your somewhat nervous demeanor only makes the sight more arousing and every little reaction from you brings a little flicker to his eyes.

All you can feel is Law's hand on your back and then he suddenly picks you up. Since you can't see anything, everything happens a little too fast, making you feel like you've been thrown off balance.

He takes a few steps with you and sets you down on a cool, metallic surface. The faint smell of disinfectant hits your nose. You must be sitting on the operating table, you suspect.

Law spreads your legs wide, thinking he could take you here and now if he wanted to, since the table has the perfect height, but he wants to hear you beg for it.

His hands caress the inside of your thighs and pass close to your core, over to your pelvis. These indirect but intense touches make you insane, the burning in your center increases and you move your butt desperately back and forth.

Law's deep laugh fills the room as his hand moves over your hips to your breasts.

"You're a needy little girl, aren't you y/n-ya?"

You're a little embarrassed. The way you respond to his touch, you couldn't say that you have a problem with getting aroused.

No matter what you tried to get yourself in the mood, you didn't get wet. At first it helped to think about Law, but at some point even that wasn't enough.

“I need you Law…” Came quietly from your lips. Somewhat perplexed, Law stopped in his tracks. It took him a second to process what was coming from your sweet lips.

He runs his tongue over his lips while looking into your blushing face

“Oh yeah, you need me, y/n-ya?” Your name in his mouth sounds dirtier than usual and he gently strokes your sensitive nipples.

Overwhelmed by the wet feeling of his tongue on your breast, you hum softly and nod your head.

A little bite in your nipple makes you twitch.

"Say it, y/n-ya." he demands of you, his breath on your skin and two fingers on your nipple pinching it.

“Ahh hah, I need you Law!” You whimper with excitement rather than pain.

"Yeah, I knew you needed me." His voice becomes a little darker and confident.

You try to lean back a little and support yourself with your hands, but the ropes make it a little difficult. Despite the pain, you don't let it stop you from enjoying Law's gentle kisses between your breasts and you let your head fall back.

Your soft moans fill the room as Law teases your nipples with his tongue while one hand strokes your thigh up and down, always a little closer to your pussy.

Instinctively your hips move back and forth in response to his stimulating touch, leaving your body aching for more.

Law placed his thumb between your folds and began to circle over your clit. Sliding slowly down a little to glide over your hole with light pressure. By this point your pussy is so wet, that he literally slips through your puffy folds, making your cunt produce lewd noises.

"Tell me, were you this wet, when you thought about me in your bed?" Your body tenses, not daring to speak as his deep voice fills your ear. Law has to smirk a little at how cravingly you squish your pussy into his gloved hand.

"The way you moaned my name made me almost go crazy, you know y/n-ya? It cost me a lot not to barge into your room…"

You bite your lower lip… Did he eavesdrop on you?

"Were you no longer satisfied at some point and that's why you came to me…" The pace of his fingers between your lips increased, raising the heat in your chest.

“…because you need me?” With your brain running at full capacity to process all these feelings, the only thing that comes out of your lips is an unrestrained moan.

He praises you repeatedly, calling you his 'good girl' while leaving a trail of kisses all the way down your belly.

He takes in the sight of your lovely swollen puss, feeling the tension in his pants.

“Such a beautiful pussy…” he whispers as he drops his pants. His breath brushes over your cunt and makes it twitch slightly. He grabs you by the lower legs and pulls you towards him while you struggle to keep your balance.

Slowly, he runs his warm tongue between your lovely lips and gently strokes your clitoris. He enjoys you to the full while his slow movements drive you over the edge.

You would like to grab his head and push him closer to feel some relief, but the ropes prevent you from doing so.

“Law I want you!” You moan, longing for relief.

His slow tongue strokes are warm and the even pressure is tickling your nerves. He licks your sweet spot one last time with his tongue before he fulfills your wish.

He eagerly places his magnificent piece at your entrance and smears himself with a mixture of his spit and your juice as he strokes his tip through your folds.

"Do you want me to thrust my dick inside you?" he asks you in a raspy voice. You nod your head enthusiastically, but Law leaves you waiting, to enjoy the sight of his cock sliding effortlessly through your soft lobes.

All of a sudden he violently pushes into you and his name escapes your lips. He pushes his whole length into your pussy hole, making it difficult for you to hold yourself with your tied hands.

Law notices your misery and reaches for the ropes to untie them as he penetrates your tight hole over and over again.

With your mouth slightly open, you try to get your rapid breathing under control, but the sensation caused by Law's movements is overwhelming.

His fast and deep thrusts bring you closer towards your climax and you can barely keep up with the moans.

"Uhh, Law… mhh I think I'm gonna cum!"

But before you can reach your orgasm, Law pulls out and leaves you feeling empty.

You whimper a few incomprehensible words and beg him to fill you up again. Law, who just wanted to delay his own orgasm, dives into you again but this time starts to pleasure you with slow and steady thrusts.

You start massaging your breasts with your hands, which drives Law insane. You squeeze and pinch both your nipples, unable to see how Law watches you with satisfaction in his eyes.

Suddenly, Law grabs your blindfold and rips it off your face. You have to blink a few times to get used to the bright light but quickly your attention is focused on the way you are being fucked by Law.

With his lips slightly parted, he struggles to breathe but his eyes are fixed on you as you fondle your bare breasts.

Watching him fuck the soul out of your body gives you a little reminder of what's happening in reality. With the blindfold you had a sort of distance from what was going on between you, as if you were being fucked by a stranger.

It was exciting, but watching Law, as he enjoys thrusting his hips into you, is even more exciting.

You barely managed to hold on to Law's shoulders as he lifted you up while his member was still inside you.

Automatically you wrap your legs around his hips and with his hands on your butt he moves you up and down, on his dick in a gentle motion.

Moaning, you nestle against his neck and enjoy the feeling of his hot skin on your naked chest.

𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐠𝐚𝐬 𝐃. 𝐀𝐜𝐞

[ 576 words ]

A/N: Ace is really short, sorry. I'll make up for it soon with a spicy OneShot :D

Both of you, completely out of breath, try to keep the noise to a minimum. If someone catches you, bad rumors will spread around the ship, but you can't resist Ace any longer.

In a storage room, you cling to Ace who lavishes you with a thousand kisses on your neck. Usually no one ever comes in here because there's nothing but useless junk, but the thrill of being caught is pretty exciting.

Again and again you remind each other to be quiet as your lips fall over each other.

The way he grabs your breasts and strokes your hips tells you that he's greedy for more. Greedy for you.

And you are just as greedy. Your hands run curiously over his chest, feeling every muscle. His body is burning hot, so hot that you need to get out of your clothes quickly and as you reach for the hem of your top, Ace is happy to help you free yourself from your clothes.

Stripped of your clothes, you explore each other's bodies in the dark storage room without parting your lips for once.

All you can feel is how Ace traces soft kisses down your neck all the way down to your wet pussy. You lift one leg and try to support yourself against the wall while Ace runs his warm tongue through your folds.

“Mhmh, y/n, you taste so good.”

He grabs your buttocks while he devours your pussy juices and moans in pleasure along with you. You grab his black hair and move your hips to his licking movements.

His warm tongue is truly talented and you enjoy how evenly and slowly he strokes through your folds. Over and over again he presses his tongue against your hole only to then skillfully stroke your sweet little clit.

“Mhmm Ace, please put it in.” you whimper a little. You want to feel him inside you.

He turns you to face the wall and lifts one of your legs. You immediately stick your butt out towards him and feel his massive erection on your ass, just waiting to explore your soft hole.

He guides his big friend to your entrance and you both moan in pleasure as he slides it inside you. For a brief moment, he lingers in the position where he has his entire member inside you. Your walls wrap around him so comfortably tight.

Surely but slowly he starts to penetrate you.

If you had known how big he was, you would have let him touch you much earlier, but well, better later than never…

With Ace's hands firmly on your hips, he guides you towards him again and again with force. Both your breaths are ragged and you keep forgetting that you could be just a moment away from being caught.

His hand finds its way along your skin to your breast and massages it gently. He pulls you a little closer so that you arch your back and he peppers your neck with lots of hot kisses. You feel your hair standing straight

You feel your hair stand straight and you happily surrender to his every touch, feeling tempted to disappear into this little secret chamber more often. With Ace, of course.

Just as you are both getting closer to climaxing, without any control over your voices, you hear footsteps from outside that you don't register at all.

“Hello, is anyone in there?”

𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐨

[ 2344 words ]

All kinds of gorgeous women are lined up in a row, including you. In the beginning your group was much larger, but a few women have already been sorted out by Diamante, one of the king's three highest officers. Women who might not be to the king's taste.

Dressed in skimpy clothes, you stand in a large hall in the castle and wait for Doflamingo to appear. The king has once again tortured his last toy to death and demands to see all the unmarried women in the kingdom...

Frightened, you stand between women who confidently assume that they could win the king's heart, but you know that he has no heart.

The massive door opens and the man in question walks in. He walked past all the women without even glancing at them, while a few ladies lost their composure due to excitement.

You pray that he doesn't choose you… That maybe he won't choose anyone, because no one catches his interest. But unfortunately for you, he stops right in front of you and turns to face you.

“You look scared…” There's something crazy about the smile on his face and you don't dare move a muscle.

He grabs your chin and looks at your face. Your widened eyes stare at him in fear, you try to avoid his gaze but he forces you to look into your horrified reflection in his glasses.

“I'll take that.” he announces and disappears from the hall again. Tears well up in your eyes as you realize that he doesn't even see you as a human being. You're just an object he pleasures himself with until you break.

Servants come quickly and lead you through the long corridors without talking to you. Everything seems so foreign to you and you don't dare say a word…

You don't really want to know what's happening to you now. Even though you know exactly what is going to happen, you want to block it out, maybe there will be a chance to escape, but that chance didn't arise…

The maids bathed you, perfumed you and applied expensive lotions to make your skin soft and smooth. After they put you in a silky nightgown, which to your surprise was quite pretty rather than slutty, they led you to the attached bedchamber.

They made you sit on the huge bed, on which you felt a little lost because it was so big, and guarded you. Their eyes are cold and reserved on you, but earlier, when they bathed you and you cried, the pity in their eyes was obvious.

You feel like a doll that has been glammed up to please the king and now you have to wait for him to come and play with you…

You think of your family and friends that you will probably never see again and fight back your tears. You're a bit scared, especially because it's your first time...

The double doors of the room open and you don't even have to look up to know who is entering. His wicked chuckle is easy to recognize and you clench your fists to hide your shaking hands.

"Fufufu - How nicely they've arranged you for me."

His frame casts a shadow over you that makes you look up at him slowly. Your frightened demeanor amuses him, causing him to smile maliciously and he places his knee on the bed, coming close to you.

"Get out." He spoke without taking his eyes off you and the maids quickly hurried out of the room.

There you are now. Alone with Doflamingo.

You clutch the pink silk sheets and grit your teeth. With all your might you try not to look too afraid, but Doflamingo can literally taste that you are tense.

“Why are you so scared? fufufu.” There's something poisonous about his voice, something that makes you shudder. The closer he gets to you, the more you scoot backwards to keep your distance.

What you should know is that Doflamingo enjoys this game of cat and mouse. You are his prey and he will definitely snatch you. The way you wiggle backwards into the many cushions is simply entertaining.

Your heart skips a beat as you realize that you can't get any further back, because the head of the bed is behind you.

You don't even have the nerve to think about how you can convince Doflamingo not to sleep with you while he's reaching for you. But do you really think you can convince him with your words? Probably not.

He will make use of your body and nothing can stop him, you are sure of that. That's why you just sit in front of him, like a scared little bunny, making itself smaller and smaller.

His fingers go through your hair and holds it up to his nose. You stare stiffly at him as he savors your scent.

“Ahhh…” He moans satisfied and brushes your hair against his cheek "Your scent is so bewitching, I fucking love it." You swallow hard. You want to scream but you're afraid to make even the slightest noise.

“But you know what I love even more? The fear in your eyes.”

He grabs you roughly by the chin and forces you to look up at him. You breathe anxiously through your nose.

He is crazy.

You manage to gain control of your body and push him away from you. Surprisingly, he allows you to do so.

“Are you scared? Fufufu…” He leans back a little and looks down at your pathetic figure as he removes his shirt. You avoid his gaze and turn your face downwards.

You feel uncomfortable that he's making fun of you like this. His long index finger appears in your field of vision and Doflamingo lifts your chin.

"Don't be afraid, I can start by myself if you like." His voice is calm and a little teasing but the words he says sound lewd, something you're not used to.

You shyly dare to take a look at his upper body. His abs are nicely tanned and well trained. Surely, if he wasn't such a sick man, he would be every woman's dream.

You watch him as he unzips his pink pants allowing his long member to finally escape the prison of his tight pants. You swallow a little. This size is definitely not for beginners…

“Fufufu… Are you that hungry to swallow like this; or are you just shocked?"

Caught off guard, you look up at him. You didn't realize that Doflamingo was someone observing you so closely. Nervously, you bite your lip.

You had rather expected him to pounce on you and tear your clothes off, but he just sits in front of you and undresses himself with no hurry, while you ogle at his body with uncertainty.

Suddenly he rushes towards you and leans over you, stroking his member with one hand. Startled, you grab the blanket with both hands and press yourself into the mattress, hoping it will swallow you whole.

You try to avoid any kind of physical contact and close your legs. Unfortunately, Doflamingo forces his leg between them before you can do so.

“Don't be shy, dear.” He runs his tongue over his lips as if he wants to devour you and you turn your head to the side. You look around the room, the only option is to make a run for your life, as fast as you can, but will you be fast enough?

Doflamingo straightens up and strokes your thigh lovingly, gushing over the sight of you. You look so pathetic the way you desperately try to figure your escape.

It's written all over your face that you're scared. Probably not scared enough to make smart decisions, because you jump up, push Doflamingo away and run for the door.

You don't have the nerve to even notice that Doflamingo doesn't move a bit. He just laughs his nasty laugh. Just before you can reach for the doorknob, several thin strings wrap around you and hold you in place.

You try to defend yourself and stretch towards the door, but you quickly realize that the strands are cutting into your skin and blood starts to flow in some places.

Before you know it, Doflamingo is standing behind you and grabs you roughly by the neck, throwing you to the ground. He loosens your strings and applies pressure to your back with his foot.

It hurts. He presses his foot into your spine and when you try to support yourself from the ground, he crushes your head back down. Your tears gather. Why doesn't he just find someone who's into stuff like this?

“If you behave yourself, we'll both have a lot of fun…” His voice is no longer teasing, more threatening, as if you're going to die if you don't start acting good.

He grabs your arm and pulls you up. With one hand he makes a strange gesture and you immediately feel the strings tighten around your neck.

"If you're acting bad, I'll kill you." It gets tighter around your neck and you try to move as little as possible while you can't breathe.

You find yourself on the bed again and Doflamingo, who has completely separated from his pants right in front of the bed, looks down at you with a dark expression. His nasty smile has disappeared.

“It would be a shame if I had to kill you, so I hope you behave yourself.” His words leave you defenseless. If you deny him your body now, you will die. You swallow and look fearfully at where you suspect his eyes are.

“I… I'll b-behave.” Your voice is barely a whisper and shaky.

“Very good.” The corners of his mouth turn upwards and his strings loosen at your throat.

He kneels on the bed and pulls you closer using your thighs. His member lands on top of you and reaches your belly button. Aside from its length, you are concerned about its width. That's going to split you in two…

His big hand runs down your thigh, moving over to your stomach.

"The fabric looks gorgeous on your body." Unexpectedly gentle, he goes over your chest. The cool fabric of your nightgown stimulates your nipple and it stiffens.

However, it disgusts you that such tender touches belong to a loathsome man like him.

He grabs you by the neckline of your nightgown and literally rips the whole thing off your body. You flinch and try to cross your arms in front of your chest.

This sudden exposure makes your face flush crimson red. You feel his strings on your wrists and they pull your arms over your head.

“That's a nice sight.” You can't look at his messed up smile and close your eyes. You feel his cock throbbing against your body as he takes great pleasure in the way you try desperately to control your breathing without making a sound.

“Look at me.” His voice is cold and you widen your eyes, not daring to blink.

He strokes over your panties and applies a little pressure to your clit. Using slow circular movements, he caresses your little cunt, making it twitch. He runs his fingers over your skin with great tenderness and disappears under your underwear and his cold fingers make you twitch.

You curse yourself for feeling the pleasure of his touch. You're no stranger to such touches, you've done it to yourself before, but when someone else does it, it's a whole different story.

You bite your lip; surprisingly, he touches you just the way you like it. As if he knows your body all too well.

You tense your body. You don't want to be aroused by him, but unfortunately you are forced to realize that your body is moistening your folds all by itself.

"There is no point in resisting, my dear."

He pushes your underwear aside and places his member at your entrance. Your pleading looks only excite him even more and he stuffs his entire tip into your soft pussy. “N-no…! please don't.” you beg but he ignores you and continues to slowly drive his cock into you. The wetness of your cunt is barely enough for his shaft and you look down at yourself in pain, only to realize that he hasn't even come close to disappearing inside you.

Suddenly he stops.

“Fufufufufu… What do we have here? A virgin?” He licks his lips and rips his glasses off his face after discovering your blood on his member. He looks down at his cock and you are speechless about how his eyes can look even crazier than his smile does.

Your heart skips a beat as he looks directly into your pupils. His eyes are terrifying and more aggressive than you could have imagined.

“This seems to be my lucky day!” he gets louder. His laughter is maddening and without warning he thrusts his whole cock into your little hole. The pain tears you apart and you feel your warm blood running down your butt.

His thrusts are so fast that your whole body tenses up. Hoping that by resisting, you'll be able to stay focused and not go crazy from the adrenaline and pain.

Both the pain and the excitement of his hard thrusts drive you into madness. You let your head fall back and pray that it will end soon or you will find yourself passing out from the pain.

You feel stretched out and his movements are way too fast.

You can't even desperately hold on to the bed because your hands are still tied together over your head and so you let yourself be fucked into mad despair...

𝐄𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐊𝐢𝐝

[ 1675 words ]

It felt like it was the hundredth drunk guy grabbing your ass today. With a sudden yank, you hit the guy, while balancing a tablet with your other hand. The man was literally smashed into the ground and the floorboards broke... that's the kind of strength you have.

Drunk men are disgusting, bleurgh...

"Get your hands off me you disgusting bastard!" You wave your hand a little and blow it as you feel the heat from the impact, suppressing a smile as you look at the mark on the guy's face.

Your own hand is starting to hurt, after all the punches you've thrown at men today. You give the drunkard a disgusted face and waddle back to the bar.

You watch his comrades angrily, as they try to pick up the guy who's been knocked out and polish a few glasses.

However, that's your job and your life isn't a dream come true. You're lucky that Madame Lingerie took you in and raised you… even though it was in a brothel.

From one of the other tables, loud laughter exploded, drawing your attention to the noisy people.

A large, broadly built man with a body covered in scars and fiery red hair sat in the middle of the seating area. On both sides of him are one of the most beautiful prostitutes from the house, laughing with him about the show you put on in front of everyone.

Eustass Kid. A name that is very well known in this world.

You try to avoid the looks he gives you and clean up behind the bar. You certainly don't need approval from a pirate… and yet you catch yourself glancing over at them, every now and then.

"Hey woman, bring me two beers and sit with me!" He shouts over to you. You straighten your back and look over at him with furrowed brows. Casually you put one hand on your hip while giving him a challenging grin.

“My humble self is not for entertainment Eustass.” Your smile is sassy and Kid bursts out laughing.

“Entertainment? How about some company? You surely need a little break." He shows his teeth while flashing you a big smile.

Well, you have to admit that his devious manner is quite captivating. Something about the way he smiles crookedly at you is quite attractive. Finally someone who can be a pleasant challenge.

Without breaking eye contact, you tap him a new beer, but not a second one. You're sure the second one is for you. It's charming that he buys you a drink, but you prefer something else. You quickly mix yourself your favorite drink and go over to his table.

"Well, I don't see a spot available here." You stand casually with your drinks in your hand. He invites you to join him, but there's not even room for you? His drunken crew members look at you mischievously, too mischievously for your taste. Kid smirks and pats his thigh.

"You're looking for a seat? I've got one right here for you." He laughs at you challengingly. A little stunned, you blink at him but start to run your tongue over your teeth in a combative manner.

“Oh? Two beautiful women by your side aren't enough for you, so you need a third?” You put the drinks down on the table and cross your arms in front of your chest. You're not one of the girls he can pick… Apart from that, you wouldn't like to share.

“Killer, will you take these two for me? I need some space here…” He pushes the ladies away, but they have no problem leaving with Killer.

"Be careful y/n, Kid is a rough man..." one of the girls winks at you as they walk past and you roll your eyes.

If only you knew what she meant by that…

You'd love to blame it on the alcohol that you ended up on his ship but the truth is that the chemistry between you was just too good. You could literally feel the sexual attraction between you.

Making out like crazy, the two of you almost fall into his cabin and with eager hands you run over his chest. You rarely part your hot lips to catch your breath.

His hands reach around you and he lifts you up to carry you over to a table and place you on it without letting go of your lips once. You impatiently try to free yourself from your jacket and draw a deep laugh from Kid.

“Someone wants to get down to business quickly.” - “Shut up and get out of your pants!” You hiss at him and give him a little bite on the lip.

Impatiently, you grab his pants and fumble with his belt but Kid grabs your hand and pulls you away. With just a few quick moves, he turns you around and pushes you onto the table so that your butt is facing him.

He takes his time to enjoy the sight how your leather pants frame your round ass. He loves leather. He kneads and strokes your curves, occasionally giving you a small but tender slap on the ass. A dirty laugh escapes your lips as you look at him over your shoulder.

"So, do you like what you see? Wait till you see my ass without pants.” His eyes move from your ass to your face and a naughty smile adorns his face.

"That's not going fast enough for me." Is all he says before he rips your pants off.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” You try to turn around but Kid holds you down. A little tearfully you mourn your leather pants. They had served you well and now you're going to end up like this? Poor pants.

But your mourning comes to an quick end. Kid slaps your booty vigorously with his hand, causing a resounding noise to echo through the silent room. You feel his handprint precisely and even though it was a bit tingly at first, you feel a growing warmth in your core.

Again and again he reaches for your butt and decorates your skin with red marks of his hand. Each stroke sends you into a frenzy, an overwhelming pain that is both pleasant and humiliating.

In addition, you like to let him hear how much you enjoy his rough behavior and moan without holding back.

"Well you dirty little bitch, you like that?"

You grind your teeth. You're obviously into it. Annoyed and full of lust, you wiggle your ass at him.

"Come on you fucking pirate and just fuck me!" You growl at him. You want sex and you want it now.

To your delight, you hear a clinking sound, a belt buckle opening and shortly afterwards the muffled sound of his pants falling to the floor.

But before he just fucks you, you want to have some fun with him first. You turn around skillfully and get straight down on your knees.

You bite your lip and grin broadly when you see his huge cock. "Delicious." you say in a seductive voice as you look him in the eye. Kid's cock grows instantly as you look at him with your naughty smile.

You caress his cock with your tongue, while moaning softly. His flesh feels so good and you notice how wet you get between your legs. Kid can't stand the sight of you and the feeling of your soft mouth for long and forces you back onto the desk.

With a look of excitement, you spread your legs and wrap your arms around his neck as he strokes his member over your squishy folds. Impatiently, you rub against him and relieve yourself with the pressure his stiff member causes on your clit.

His big hands literally dig into your thighs as he thrusts into you. With low and deep thrusts, he draws sounds of satisfaction from your lips and you let your head fall back.

You wrap your legs around his hips, wanting him even closer to you and pushing him deeper into you. His thick dick fills you up perfectly and the pressure he leaves inside you as he holds this position makes the hair on your arms stand up straight.

“You're pretty greedy, I like that.” He grunts between the thrusts he slams into you.

His hands grab your tits and he pulls and twirls your nipple. You've never been touched so roughly and hell, you never want to miss it again. He gives your breast a little slap and moans dirty words into your face.

“You little slut should be mine.” He grabs you by the throat, with his hand going around your neck with no problem. He doesn't squeeze too hard that you lose your breath, just enough to drive you fucking nuts.

Excited by his overwhelming dominance, you arch your back.

"Mmhm, what's in it for me?" You grab his arm, whose hand is still on your neck, and hold it in place. You like the submissive role.

“You'll get a mouthful of my cock, every night if you like.”

“Mhmm, that's not entirely convincing.” Even though you've discovered your submissive side, you don't want to miss out on the challenge.

You love to provoke him. Suddenly he lifts you up and bends you over the table.

“You like getting your butt slapped, don't you?” His fingers gently caress the curve of your ass.

"Hey, who said you could stop fucking me?" Your cheeky manner earns you a slap on the butt.

"Shut the fuck up." he roars threateningly as he massages the red spot on your ass.

“I'll make you mine, you'll have no say in the matter...” He spreads your legs and gives you a little slap on your puffy pussy.

“I have no objections.” You moan in satisfaction.

Weeehw. It's finally done I hope you enjoyed it. I definitely enjoyed it :3

Kiss kiss your yuri ♡

#trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #one piece #headcanon #portgas d ace #ace x reader #eustass kid #eustass x reader #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo x reader #one piece reader #eustass kid x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #portgas d ace x reader #donquixote doflamingo x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader

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ghostycritter · 1 month ago

Text

Observing ☆

Context - Eyes don't lie. Certainly not theirs. Here, we unravel what's behind them. Eyes are the window to the soul after all. So how would their glances and glares feel?

Characters - Jing Yuan,Blade, Dr Ratio, Gepard, Aventurine

Warnings - none

A/N - first writing.

Masterlist (✧) HSR Masterlist

[景元] Jing Yuan -

Being under the general’s glare felt like a small stroke of lightning anytime his eyes fell on you.

The shock was gentle though. A shock that made you feel alive—a shock that kicked off your heartrate to rapid speeds. His eyes would always leave your heart pounding from how gentle his glances were.

It was almost comforting in a way. You always feel your cheeks flush every time. No matter how used to it you get, you can never comprehend the warm emotion that simmers deep within your heart.

On his end, his attention is always directed towards those who have caught his attention. Birds, Starskriffs, and maybe… You?

You, being the most memorable moment of his day.

Jing Yuan carries recollections of many amber eras. Everyday, he doesn’t notice himself getting older, however, days to him are desaturated in speciality. All he acknowledges is his duty as general.

But ever since you, everyday was like a blessing. He wished that days would travel at a hindered pace, just so he could look at your person again. Though conversation was rare, those glimpses at you were without a doubt the highlight of his days.

As you passed by him, you found his head following your direction. You lifted your hand to give the general a wave.

“Pleasant to see you [name].” That was relieving to say.

[刃] Blade -

He doesn’t know why he does it. He doesn’t feel like this, he never does.

But why does he keep looking back? Looking again, and again?

Blade has never reached out for an answer why, he’d much rather not ask. He’d just stare, like always.

Blade’s stares are cold. Your spine would go erect anytime you feel him eyeballing you.

You weren’t scared of course—there’s no act of maliciousness behind his crimson eyes. But rather, the word to describe your feeling would be intimidation.

Fear doesn’t overcome you, but his glare was so intense. It felt like a piercing blow to the chest. You had no complaints, because he would always look away when you catch him staring.

But you always know from your peripheral, that Blade’s eyes never abandon you as long as you don’t reciprocate the act. Maybe one day, his eyes would meet yours.

Blade crosses his arms, his mighty sword tightly gripped within the confinements of his fists. His head tilted downwards, it’s not like he has much to see anyways. His surroundings were deafening, he only observed his own being. How he can breathe when he takes up a flush of air with his nose. It’s like living.

But nothing comes close to ever making him feel more alive than being observant. Observing you.

Just a few system hours ago, he found himself looking… again. It’s always you. Never Kafka, Silverwolf, Firefly, or even Elio can drag his irises along like you do.

“Blade, time to go,” He heard Silverwolf call for him.

He must’ve been too submerged in his thoughts.

[真理医生] Dr Ratio -

Veritas Ratio was a piece of work. Brimming with knowledge and practically unparalleled in academics. So how come he catches himself eyeing you?

He doesn’t have time for such trivial matters; the doctor has more crucial things to focus on

However, it always comes back to you. He doesn’t even realise, but when he does, he internally scolds himself.

How his maroon eyes would stalk you, absorbing every miniscule detail about you. Any differences from the day before, he’d notice.

Oh, you’re missing that accessory you’d usually wear. Your facial features seemed more captivating today. In fact it seems that way now since he’s finally paying attention.

To you, the doctor’s stares were strict. It made you feel tingly, making you stiffen your spine on instinct or even walking differently. It’s as if you were being inspected thoroughly.

Another exhausting day finally came to an end. His usual routine, finding himself in front of his large bathtub. He stripped himself of his clothing and immersed himself in the waters beneath him. He let out a small sigh, he needed this.

Veritas was deep in thought. He simmered in the warm water, he thought about you. He remembered how you dressed today, but it seems as though you look more exceptional everyday.

Observing you became somewhat of a cycle he has gotten used to, taking mental notes after every look. But obviously it didn’t matter to him, it’s all a part of his nature to inspect things after all—or atleast, that’s what he tells himself.

[杰帕德] Gepard -

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards, a title he upholds dearly. Never once he lets his emotions get to him, staining his reputation when it comes to the military.

However, recently, some of his comrades have noticed Gepard covering less ground when it comes to patrolling.

He was always told to not overthink, to stay true to himself, but he never realised how often his gaze lingers on you.

His glances were quick when you’re aware, however, whenever you turn your back to him, his eyes linger a little longer. He looks at you with so much admiration, it’s innocent, he would question why, but all those inquiries would be muted by the sensation of adoration.

Gepard’s glare would boil a proud sensation in you. You notice how he looks, he isn’t very experienced in hiding it. You find it amusing the captain would find you so tranquil that he would pay more attention to you than patrolling.

Gepard stood firm and tall as he walked around the city. He found an abundance of citizens moving around town. He’s glad that the stellaron crisis was over, it made his job a bit easier with the fragmentum.

In the density of the crowd, with every person roaming and going on with their lives, he found you.

You caught his eye again.

How does this keep happening? He froze. The sight of you alone kept his heart rate surging, it was abnormal. His lips parted and slowly cracked into a subtle smile.

It’s good to see you today.

[砂金] Aventurine -

Nobody would ever expect the lucky risk taker of the IPC to have so much interest in someone else.

Usually, his ordeals would leave him to abandon the other party. Although his interest in you appears to be a wonderful exception from all others.

He had always had a keen eye for people. Most people being those deemed as ‘business’ to him. Subsequently, he finds you intriguing, but not in a professional way. Rather he took his own interest to you.

His unique eyes were sharp and enthralling, leaving anybody on edge when he peered, especially with his lips curved into a wide smile. He can’t blame himself, you were so entertaining.

Every little action that you’d commit would be under watch of Aventurine. Those contrasting eyes with his dark, sharp pupils made movement impossible to follow. It’d make you freeze, stumble, and stupefy anytime you’d catch him eyeing you.

He doesn’t hide it either, he isn’t ashamed. Why would he be?

Business has been accomplished, another risky negotiation in favour of him. With that success out of the way, he can finally rest with that achievement in mind.

He wonders, will he ever feel so obliged to watch over someone again? Was it out of concern? Interest? Or something more? He watches as you stand there, minding your own business. His irises locked onto your person. His smile grew a bit wider, he felt amused. It’s ridiculous how you can conquer his attention with leisure, he almost felt sorry for himself for being so helpless, but that would be impossible.

Regardless, having you under his vision was enough for him, he doesn’t expect you to take the time to notice it, rather that would be a miracle.

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