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somanyratsinthewalls · 5 months ago

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Hi! congrats for 700 followers!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 i love your fics and one shots <3

following the game… can i suggest Navy (ofc) Rabbit and if possible starfish too 🥺🥺🥺

Thank you 🫶🏼

HI SORRY THIS TOOK A BILLION YEARS BUT GUESS WHAT IT'S DONE NOW :) thank you for your patience sweet friend

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Female Reader

Trope/Prompt: Friends to Lovers x Body Worship

Summary: Law finds out you've never had an orgasm. A doctor treats a patients ailments. You get the idea. MINORS DNI

WC: 3100 hehe

TWs: inexperienced reader, alcohol consuption, fingering, oral sex f receiving, power dynamic kinda, smooth talking Law, body worship and praise, pet names, ugh it's porn.

Climax (+18)

——

Sure, the Heart Pirates weren’t the scariest or the biggest or the baddest pirate crew out there… but they were still pirates at the end of the day. The Heart Pirates could drink. Although Law himself didn’t indulge in as many rowdy evenings as the other members of his crew, he still enjoyed socializing with them. They were his crew, after all.

This particular evening, Law found himself bored of his work and decided to venture out from his office and into the common areas of the ship. Law shuffled tiredly towards the sound of glasses clinking and slurred voices talking over each other. He almost decides to turn back to his bedroom and try to get some shut eye. His back ached, the twinge in his muscles pleading with him to go to sleep, but he hears something else. Your lilted giggle floats through the metal halls of the submarine and straight into his ears. He wanted to at least see you before he went to bed… something sweet to think about as he fell asleep…

“Yeah, okay well you’re stupid, so.” You sip from your freshly cracked beer and roll your eyes at Shachi.

“Wow! What a good insult, y/n! You’re so fucking creative!” Shachi jeers at you with a big fake smile on his face. “I set you up, and you lost! You have to finish your drink, I don’t care that you just opened a new one!”

“Unless you want me to barf on your cards, probably not.” You chuckle.

“And I have seen her throw up. It is NOT cute.” Ikkaku pipes up. Ikkaku leans in and whispers purposefully loudly to Penguin. “Shes a scream-puker.”

“Okay so, I am not a scream-puker!” You defend yourself.

“Yeah, you are.”

Your head whips around towards the galley door. Law stands there leaning against the frame, looking exhausted, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him.

“Last time you had the flu I thought we were under attack and sounded the Tang’s defensive alarm.” Law says as he smirks at you.

You pout and turn back to the table.

“Okay that one time… and I was really sick, you know!” You huff.

“Room for one more?” Law grabs a beer out of the fridge and sits down at the dining table without waiting for a response.

“Of course, Captain!” Ikkaku chimes in. “We were just telling Shachi he has to finally tell that girl from the last island to stop calling him.”

“She’s sooooo hot though! And she’s totally into me!” Shachi pleads his case.

“We will never see her again!” You interject.

“So? She doesn’t know that! And besides, the phone sex is better than nothing-”

“You’re having phone sex? Here? On my ship?” Law immediately butts in and cocks his head in confusion.

“… is that? Is that not cool? Did we have a rule about that or something?” Shachi questions.

“No.. it’s just vile, Shachi.” Law shakes his head.

“Hah! He thinks you’re fuckin’ gross!” Ikkaku points and laughs directly at Shachi who was making quite the face. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh whatever, I’ve been getting the best sleep of my life thanks to this! I’m like, almost twice as productive as I normally am!” He tries to build his case back up.

“Why?” You ask, curious what those things had to do with each other.

“What do you mean? Everyone knows how great the sleep is after you finish, am I wrong?”

“You are correct there.” Penguin adds, sipping his beer. Ikkaku hums in agreement.

“Hah, okay. Wouldn’t know.” You add softly, secretly hoping no one would hear you.

“What?” Ikkaku turns to you and asks.

“Nothing it’s just that I… wouldn’t…? Know..?” Really pleading with your eyes for her to read between the lines and you wouldn’t have to say it out loud yourself.

“Wait okay… you’ve never… had an orgasm?” Ikkaku’s eyes widen.

“Correct.” You take a deep breath. “At least I don’t think I have.” You feign a laugh.

“Oh you’d KNOW.” Shachi affirms from across the table, also staring at you with a bewildered expression. “Woah… that’s crazy. Are you a virgin or something?” He continues.

“No!” You defend yourself. “The guys I’ve been with just suck, apparently. Can we stop talking about this?” You knit your eyebrows together and rub your eyes.

“No way this is fascinating. How old are you? Twenty five? And you’ve never had an orgasm? Like never once? Even by yourself?” Ikkaku probes further.

“Oooookay guys I never miss a good time to shut the fuck up, so I am going to head to bed!” You stand up from the table and straighten out your boiler suit. You were met with pleas and apologies from your crew mates, while your captain remained stoic during the entire exchange. You felt his eyes burning a hole through you as you left the galley.

You swiftly make your way through the metal corridors of the ship towards your stateroom. You weren’t upset at your crew mates, it really was fascinating how you had made it this long in your life without feeling the peak of physical pleasure. It wasn’t for lack of trying, you had tried several times to pleasure yourself… and taken a small handful of lovers, none of whom could make you cum.

You slip off your boiler suit and let it fall to the floor in an off-white heap. You pick out some grey pajamas, a thin camisole and matching shorts, throw it on and sit on your bed to brush out your hair. You untie your hair from the thick bun on your head and let it cascade down your bare shoulders.

You had almost finished brushing our your locks when you notice the room has somehow changed… as if in the blink of an eye everything was sheathed in a faint blue glow. A familiar blue…

“Wait no!” You could barely yelp out before you ass meets a different surface in an instant. “Ah!” You gasp and open your eyes to see that you’re no longer in your own bed, but in Law’s. You blink rapidly for a few moments to try and regain your surroundings. You catch your breath.

You look up and see Law standing at the edge of his bed, looking at you with his shirt unbuttoned. Did he already have it unbuttoned when you were drinking… or did he take it off since then…?

“Gods, Law.” You sigh and shake your head. “You can’t keep doing that to people. You could have just called my snail or something.”

“Heard Shachi’s been keeping the line busy tonight.” Law looks down at your barely covered form on his bed. You push your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around them. He smirks. “So… is it true?” Law walks slowly around to the side of the bed, eyes never leaving yours. He was like an animal stalking its prey.

“T-the orgasm thing?! T-thats what you brought me here to talk about?!” You could feel your cheeks flush bright red. You sink your head further behind your legs. “I-it’s really not a big deal…” You turn your eyes down to avoid his gaze.

“You know, the human orgasm is really just a tool.” Law continues eyeing your body and ignoring what you had just said. “The reason it feels so good goes back to our earliest days of evolution. All living organisms, even plants, exist with one similar purpose in common. Do you know what that is, y/n?”

You pick your head up a bit from behind your knees.

“T-to… n-not get eaten by a larger thing?” You sputter out.

“Reproduction.” Law answers his own question. “Every creature is designed with a primal need to create more of itself…” He paces towards his nightstand and back before taking his massive sword off his back and setting it against the bedpost. “The male orgasm is necessary for human reproduction, obviously. But the female orgasm…” He trails off and you look up and lock eyes. “Is it a bit more complicated…”

“O-okay?”

“Some professionals say the spasming of the female reproductive organs during orgasm allows for easier penetration through the cervix for the ejaculate to pass through… and some say the female orgasm doesn’t even exist at all…”

“Are you seriously doctor-ing me about this?!?” You finally find your voice a bit stronger in your throat. “I’ve lived this long without it and-“

“I however, y/n, don’t care what the purpose of it is. And I do know it exists. And I plan on giving you at least one this evening.” Law says as he sheds his button down off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Tattoos on full display, his chiseled abdominal muscles right at your eye level paired with the topic of conversation made you press your legs together even harder.

“C-captain that is highly unnecessary and unprof-“ You try to protest shakily.

“Nonsense.” Law steps so his thighs are against the edge of the bed. His right hand comes up to drag two fingers up your calf and rest his palm on your knee. He rubbed soft circles onto your knee with his thumb. “Now if you’re done being so stubborn, we can get started.”

You leaned back on your elbows and blinked up at the man standing before you, your captain. You couldn’t believe this was really happening, but you were too stunned to question it. You trusted him with your life and more, why not let him try and help you?

“Alright.” You say softly, more to yourself than to Law.

“Good. Now take your clothes off.”

You cock your head back in surprise and your eyes widen.

“Getting straight to it I guess…” You chuckle nervously.

“We can go slower, if you’d like?” Law takes his hand off your leg, a genuine look of care in his grey eyes.

“No no! I-it’s fine! I just didn’t, you know… like… well I wasn’t really planning for anyone to see me naked tonight is all!” You say awkwardly.

“The only thing I care about tonight is pleasuring you. Will you let me?”

You don’t say anything in response, but you lift your thin grey camisole over your head and throw it to the floor. You didn’t look up to see Law’s response, you just shimmied your shorts down your legs and resumed your position laying on Law’s bed.

Fully bare in front of your captain, you could feel your cheeks become hotter than they’ve ever been.

“So what should-“ You begin.

“Fucking gorgeous.” Law interrupts.

“S-sorry?” You question.

“You are so fucking hot. So pretty.” Law was no longer staring into your eyes, but raking his gaze all over your naked body. “Spread your legs for me, yah?” Law asks, a bit more pleading than his normal demanding tone. It was like something shifted in him once you had taken your clothes off. He returns his hand to your knee, bringing his other hand as well this time to gently push your legs open to expose your sex to him. You hear him suck in a breath.

Suddenly, Law pounces on you. You’re knocked back on the bed further and your head hits the mattress. Law chuckles playfully above you as he supports himself on his hands, black shaggy hair falling towards your face.

“Hi.” He grins down at you.

“H-hi..” You manage to smile back. Law leans down further and begins placing wet kisses along your neck, craning your head to the side almost involuntarily. “O-oh okay.. t-that’s fine… AH!” You feel a cold hand pinch your left nipple.

“So sensitive… this is going to be easy..” You feel Law’s mouth curve into a smile as he litters more kisses on you, this time across your collarbone. He moves his head lower and captures your right nipple in his soft lips and sucks gently. You let out a long sigh and throw your head back against the mattress further. Quiet gasps left your mouth as he worked your chest in his hands and tongue.

Without fully realizing that Law’s hand had left your breast, you feel it cup your mound firmly without warning. You try to close your legs instinctively at the sudden contact.

“Ah ah, no y/n. You’ve been hiding this pretty thing from me for too long.” Law says as he pulls back from your chest. He pressed his fingers against the top of your slit and started rubbing it in circles. “I promise it’ll feel so good.”

Law leans up and places a gentle kiss on your parted mouth, you were too dazed to kiss him back just yet. He pulls away and settles himself on the floor on his knees in front of where you were laying. Strong arms hook under your knees and drag you swiftly so that your legs were hanging off the bed and your sex was mere inches from his hungry gaze and spit-slicked lips.

“Even more fucking beautiful than I’d imagined…” Law says as he spreads your pussy with his thumb and forefinger, exposing your throbbing clit and dripping hole to him. “So eager and ready for me…”

“Wait you imagi- SHIT!” You cry out as you feel Law’s hot tongue lap at your clit. It was so good, so thoughtful, so precise… he knew exactly what he was doing. “Oh my god-“ You had never received better head and he was only just getting started… maybe he was going to fulfill his promise. He alternative between suckling at your sensitive pearl and taking wide swaths over your whole sex with his entire mouth, as if he was trying to drink up every last drop your pussy was offering him.

“So sweet…” You could barely understand what Law was muttering about, he was so drunk off your essence that all you could really hear was pained moans and groans of “mmhmmpph” as he enjoyed your taste. Your back was arching off the bed and you grabbed at Law’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you as you wanted to make sure he kept going.

You moaned loudly as he slipped two fingers into your eager hole. He distracted you with harsh sucks to your clit as he crooked his fingers upwards inside of you.

“Wait fuck!” You cry out, feeling a foreign sensation as Law pulled on that spot inside your walls.

“Yeah there it is baby… there it is right there… let it happen…” Law cooed into your wetness as he continued to hammer into your sweet spot with his two fingers. He resumed his ministrations on your clit.

“Law! I can’t!” You gasp as that warmth and pressure in your lower half grew stronger and tighter.

“You can… get out of that pretty little head of yours, babe. Stop thinking and just let it go…”

You try to center yourself and clear your mind, eliminating all thoughts except for the feeling of Law’s hands and mouth on you. It wasn’t hard to do, his presence took over your every sense entirely… the heady smell of his cedar cologne, the absolute determined and lust-filled look in his eyes that were peeking up at you from between your legs, and the overwhelming feeling of his mouth lapping up your juices with fervor.

“I-I think… ah! Fuck!” Your shoulders lurch forward on their own, your walls starting to tighten sporadically around Law’s thick fingers.

“You’re so close, pretty girl… just a little more… squeeze those tits for me, yah?” Law asks before returning his mouth to your throbbing nub.

You do as you’re told and you wrap your manicured hands around your own breasts. You pull desperately at your nipples and cry out from the intense pleasure.

“Law!” You moan your captain’s name as tears prick the corners of your eyes from the sensation.

“Cum.” Law growls.

With a strangled scream, everything in your body released and your breath caught in your throat. Euphoric waves pulsed from your sex outwards and you felt the tears fall freely from your lash line as your legs shook. Your scream turned into a moan, and then fell into a whine as you suddenly felt too sensitive to have Law’s touch on you and you squirmed away.

You caught your breath after what could have been 30 seconds or 5 minutes and take a look between your legs. Law stared up at you, face and bangs soaked in some sort of liquid… your liquid… and a stupid grin plastered across his face.

“Holy fuck, I’m sorry I-“ You stutter out through heaving breaths.

“Don’t.” Law stops you. “Don’t apologize. That was so fucking hot. Didn’t peg you for a squirter. Nice.” He rubs his hands on your thighs as he stands up. Your face flushes impossibly redder. “How do you feel?” Law asks.

“I…” You flop your head back onto Law’s bed. “I feel like I got hit by a sea train but also incredibly light? My legs feel like pudding.” You sit back up on your elbows. “Law… captain… That was amazing…” You smile up at him.

“Good.” Law looks down at the mess you’ve made between your legs and on his comforter. He looks down at his chest and sees even more remnants of your release.

“How about we get cleaned up before bed and I can show you a few more things, yah? You’re staying with me tonight.” Law offers you a hand and you stand up on shaky legs to follow him to the bathroom.

“Hmmm maybe this time it can be your turn?” You glance down at Law’s obvious bulge straining against his spotted jeans. “I owe you one, right?” You smirk.

— —

>:)

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

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pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you sneak off with Spencer during a team dinner, but not for the reasons the BAU thinks.

You honestly hadn't even thought there was a chance you'd be caught. When you'd left Penelope was beneath the deck of Rossi's patio, Hotch was trying to pull her free, and Morgan was uncharacteristically terrified of the possum she'd managed to grab under there. You'd thought for sure that no one would notice Spencer's absence, or your own, and that your return would be no different.

Instead, when you crack open the gate of Rossi's backyard, there's 6 pairs of eyes staring intently back at you where you stand in front of Spencer.

And six grins, completely unfiltered and alcohol-encouraged.

"You two have been gone for two and a half hours," Emily calls, her voice only made stronger by the booze she's sucked down. Reid offers a very helpful, 'Two hours and thirty-eight minutes,' from behind you, but you're glad no one else can hear it.

"We took a walk around the lake," You inform your coworkers, referencing a picturesque lake that lays only a mile from Rossi's house. It hadn't taken you long to walk to, and you'd went for a pleasant stroll in the cool night air. Spencer tends not to drink at group parties, and you'd felt bad for the man sitting alone with something dim in his eyes. You'd invited him out for a walk, and you'd thoroughly enjoyed the time you'd spent together chatting about books, the perils of the grocery store on a Saturday morning, and the state of Spencer's left sneaker - which he's nearly walked right through - as well as his subsequent wet sock.

However, with a healthy sweat shining on your face from exertion, hair mussed from the wind, and your discarded heels in your hand, you presume you look a bit like you've been banging.

"Oh, in public, you dogs!" Morgan snickers, grin blinding, glowing brighter than the lights Rossi has on his porch.

"We were talking," You grunt, storming for the seat beside JJ, or more specifically, storming for the wine glass she's left unattended on the table. Suddenly you do think you need alcohol to get through the night.

"It's called moaning when it's during sex," Prentiss informs you, grinning around the rim of her glass. She lets out an example sound for you and it echoes out of the cup she's drinking from, inducing a round of boyish laughter around the table of your coworkers that are too old to be acting the way that they are.

You let your teammates' teasing dull into a low-pitched whine as you chug liquor fast enough to make your head spin. Your brain gladly accepts the exit ticket that you've offered it for the night, and you're barely coherent enough to get into the uber that Rossi calls for you at the end of the party.

You are perceptive enough, though, to spot Hotch slipping Spencer a silver-wrapped condom, the foil packet glinting in the streetlamps.

"Congrats," Hotch claps him on the back, walking away before Spencer can make his flustered stammering sound like real words, "Wrap it before you tap it, Doctor Reid."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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gadriezmannsgirl · 5 months ago

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Hello, is it me you looking for?

Girlieeeee!!! I want to make a very important request ✨😋✨ I need you to do a Pedri fic with the song ✨we can't be friends✨ I need to read something like that from you 😌❤️

Love you very much girlie ❤️❤️❤️

Wait until you like me again. I'll wait for your love... MY LOVE!🎶 I'm so deeply in love with that song, you wouldn't believe it😭

Warnings: I don't think there will be second part to this, full angst, Pedri is somehow clueless, reader is hurting and italics are memories

Can't Pretend -P.G8

Summary: You don't know how long you can keep your act up.

Your best friend, the guy you've known ever since you were two years old. The one who you could rely on, rant to and cry with, has just broken your heart once again. You stood there watching him kiss her as if his life depends on it, hugging her close to him as if he's afraid to lose her.

You wish you were her

It's then when you realise he was looking at you, you tight smiled and walked slowly over to him, your friendship wasn't the same since that day but right now you pushed it aside he had just won the EURO's with Spain, you felt happy for him and his achievement.

"Congratulations, platanito" You said softly maintaning some distance in between the two of you

"Gracias, corazón" The nickname had your chest tighten and you felt like crying, soon you felt his arms around you and you took a deep breath.

You had already made up your mind so you let yourself hug him tightly, some tears escaping your eyes; these being misinterpreted by tears of happiness.

"But don't you cry, I just cried enough for the two of us" He said as you crack a small smile

"Eres campeón de Europa" (You're champion of Europe) You said "How could I not cry if this is something you've always wanted? I feel so proud of you" You caress his cheek lovingly

"You've helped me through all of this too" You shook your head and was about to speak but no words came out, so you just wrapped your arms around him again and let go of the breath you were holding.

"Te quiero muchisimo, mi platanito" (I love you so much, banana boy) Your voice shook lightly

"Y yo a ti, mi corazón" (Love you too)

"Never forget it, please"

"You're my best friend until the day I die, I will never" He gets away for a bit before joining both of your foreheads "Why are you crying so much?"

"I'm just happy, that's all" You sniffed getting away from him, if you stayed one more second you will not be able to do it. "I'll go congratulate the others and then we will take a pic with the throphy, sounds good?" He nods

"See you in a few then" He said "Leila, vamos" He called his six months girlfriend over to congratulate other players and have some pictures of themselves with the throphy.

You dried your tears and walked over to the shark, who was watching you with a small smile

"Mi tiburón" (My shark)

"Mi pececita" (My little fish) He hugs you swinging you side to side

"Congrats, you deserve this win so much" Your voice was shaky

"We all did" He said and you nod "Will you be back?"

"I don't know" You whisper "But I'll try my best to keep in touch"

"I still don't think it's the best option" You shake your head

"Ferran..."

"But I know you need this" You nod thanking him "I'll always be one phone call away" You smile

"So will I"

"You won't stay for the celebrations?" You shook your head

"I can't" He nods

"See you later, then?" You nod hugging him once again

"See you later, my shark" You kiss his cheek "Love you"

"Love you too, little fish. Take care"

You go over to Gavi, Fermín, Lamine and Nico who are dancing and congratulate them with smile on your face and tight hugs. The first two also knew about your decision, they didn't question, they didn't cry, they just hugged you and wished you the best.

You then walked over the González López, Rosy and Fernando didn't know but Fer did, that's why he had this sad and melancholic look on his face as he watched you arrive

"Can't you reconsider it?" You shook your head

"This was a mistake" Pedri says standing up from the bed quicly searching for his clothes

"Pedri"

"We're best friends, we shouldn't have done this"

"You started it"

"And I don't know why I did it! But this can't happen again, we're just friends and that's it"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am! We can forget about this and be friends, like we've always been"

"I have sat in silence for a long time, I can't wait for thim to suddenly like me again and then pretend nothing happened" You looked to the side watching Pedri goof around with Leila "He's happy now"

"What he did was wrong but I can't pay for his mistakes"

"You won't"

"I will be if I'm losing my sister"

"You'll not lose me Fer. I'll always be here for you but I need time for myself"

"I feel like I will, you don't even want to tell me where you are going to"

You sigh "You remember me saying of this famous program in this collegue I really wanted to go?" He nods "They let me in"

"In fucking Australia?! That's so far"

"You can still visit me anytime you want to, I'll keep in touch with you, I promise"

"Promises can be broken"

"I'm not like that and you know it" He sighs fighting the tears

"You want me to go with you to the airport?" You shook your head

"Spain just won the EURO's, your brother's a champion. You need to celebrate with him. I'll let you know whenever I land"

"Please, don't be a stranger" Fer whispers hugging you once again

"I won't, promise" You whisper kissing Fer's cheek.

You start walking before you turn around to watch Pedri laughing and smiling with his girlfriend by his side, he turns around and waves you over. You nod telling him you'll be there in a few minutes, he winks at you and you wink back at him. Soon, he turns around once more paying attention to the story his cousin is telling while you hurry to get out of the stadium.

You open your apartment watching all the packed boxes, his clothes laid on a box that Fer is meant to take later, your sister's helping you with everything and you know you shouldn't go there but you do. In there, lays the pink small bear he gave you at the feria, the small Barce shirt with the 8 fitting the bear in such an adorable way, you smile softly.

"This is ours"

"You won it for me so it's mine"

"I won it but I'm letting you have it everyday so it's ours"

You dig a bit more into the box and find the crystal sphere he gave you in Christmas, you shook it and watched the snow fall slowly

"You're a football player, of course you'll be faster than me!"

"Come on, mi corazón. I gotta give you your christmas present and if you're not fast enough santa's reindeer will take it away!"

You sigh moving your legs faster, running behind him "Liar!"

"So you don't believe in Rudolph, Dasher, Dancer, Vixen, Prancer, Cupid, Comet, Blitzen y Donner?"

"No?"

"Too bad they got me this for you" He lifts a bag

"You asshole making me run for it!" He laughs hard as you try to catch your breath "Did you seriously learned the whole 9 reindeer's names?"

"I did, for you. Yes"

You felt a tear coming down your eye, then you grabbed his 2002 hoodie, you were the first one to ever try a piece of clothing from his collection. You smiled remembering he gave it to you so you could fell asleep in his arms because of the thunderstorm

"Stop" The hoodie was ripped from your hands, you turned around to find your sister, Amelia. "You're only hurting yourself more"

"I can't help it, Meli" Your tears came out

"And that's why we're moving out. So you can pursue your dreams and forget about him"

"What if I don't?"

"You will, Y/N. I know you will"

You leaned down to pick your one year old dog, Zeus into your arms, he licked your tears away "Will I?"

"You will, now stop looking at those. We need to catch a flight"

"When is Fer picking these up?"

"Probably after the celebrations"

"Do you think he'll be mad at me?"

"Maybe he will, maybe he won't. But I know that you need to put yourself first from now on"

"Can I at least have something?"

"It wouldn't be ideal"

"Please, just one little thing and we'll go right away" Amelia sighs but either way nods. You turn around and grab a small bracelet he gave you a few years ago from his box; he's supposed to have the other half but he left it in your apartment some weeks ago before he left for Germany.

You looked at the pictures of you both from babies all the way to teenagers and to the young adults you were now. You sighed before turning around to face Amelia.

"We're ready" You grabbed your suitcases, Zeus's bag, leash and with one more look at your apartment you left, ready to stop hurting, ready to forget about an unrequited love and ready to start your new life.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

#gadriezmannsgirl replies #gadriezmannsgirl writes!#pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri blurb #pedri icons #pedri gonzalez icons #pedri gonzalez blurb #pedri fluff #football players x reader #football players fanfic #football imagines #pedri

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fuxuannie · 2 years ago

Text

↳ pairing : (seperate) miles morales & pavitr prabhakar x g-neutral reader

↳ synopsis : "i think i'm inlove.." "congrats, you're the last person to know."

↳ authors note : requests by @junipershrubs & @magicdefendorwolf !! i hope you both enjoy !! sort of crack & fluff ??? this isnt super srs just some cute shenanigans :)

Way before Miles became Spiderman, you and him were a pair that couldn't be seperated. Your parents were very close with Miles' parents, leading to various different playdates and meetings with your newfound friend at the time.

Even as kids, Mr and Mrs Morales plus your parents knew something was going to happen between you two when you'd get older. Whether good or bad, it was the way little Miles looked at you and continues to look at you with was something else. That little smile of absolute adoration when he sees you shine was never seen when it came to anyone else, just you, always you.

So he's confused when his parents exchange knowing glances, a smile on his mothers face and a proud one on his fathers. "So.. you're okay that I'm inlove with (name)...?"

"Miles, we knew long before you did."

"What."

He blinks a few times in disbelief, looking at Jeff who nods in confirmation. "Like.. since diapers. It was very very obvious." Miles watches as he walks over to a baby album, one that he hadn't recognized. It wasn't as big as the other ones he had seen before, but it definitely had a lot of pictures. "We were preparing for this moment."

You can imagine his confusion when the first page reads; "How Miles looks at them."

You can also imagine how embarassed he gets when he realizes its a compilation of photos of him looking at you with that love-struck expression he's always had.

"THAT'S HOW I LOOK AT (name)?!" Miles squeaks, in utter disbelief as his father chuckles at his expression. "For years, that's how you've looked at them. Have you seriously not noticed??" Jeff says curiously, raising a brow as he closed the book.

"..N-no? I guess.. I guess I really have been inlove with them all this time."

Rio softly ruffles his hair, still smiling all the while. "Congratulations! You're the last person to know, mi hijo."

PAVITR always thought his affection for you was simply platonic but was completely clueless to his romantic feelings since he thought of you as 'an amazing friend that I'd love to spend my whole life with'

At some point, during a conversation with Hobie and Gwen, the topic shifts to the relationship of him and you.. mostly on how you're doing.

"Oh! Me and (name) are doing great! Actually, their beauty continues to blossom more and more everyday! Their laugh is still as sweet as a song, and their smile?? It's like they get prettier every time I see them!"

Hobie blinks in disbelief, the biscuit in Gwens mouth fell out because of how her jaw that could've probably fall to the floor if it was possible.

"...You guys are just friends, right?"

"Do we seem like something else?"

Pavitr seems just as stunned as the two of them, and Hobie chuckles and puts his hand on his best friends shoulders.

"A'right, Pav. You're really feelin' nothin' a little.. special for this lil friend of yours?" He raises a brow, watching the indian Spiderman nod his head.

"Nooothin'?"

"Nothing! Nothing super strange anyway."

"So if they were to ask you to date 'em right now, would you decline?"

"No! I like them quite a lot so I'd say that-"

Hobie looks him dead in the eye, squeezing his shoulder to cut him off and a dead serious look as he wants Pavitr to reflect on his answer.

"You...?"

"Like them!"

...

"...Ohhhhh."

"This madlad..."

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ bailu's candy stash #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #atsv x reader #spiderverse x reader

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hazbinhazmeinachokehold · 11 months ago

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Alastor + apprentice!child!reader

A/n: this is some practice to get a footing in his character. (Also slight practice on husk as well.)

Reader is kinda scary but means well overall

Not proofread

Y/n ever elusive. Alastor would randomly mention your name in conversations. References your rampages and your sweetness in the same breath. But when anyone would try to quiz him on you further he would act like he didn't know what they were talking about. He might try to claim it's for privacy but it's pretty obvious he just likes messing with hotel members.

Charlie was especially sad that she might never get to meet you. If Alastor was to be believed you seemed really sweet! (And easy to rehabilitate *cough* *cough*) Also cool! You seemed to be an absolute powerhouse. After Al mentioned you Charlie got somewhat mopey. Until he mentioned you visiting the hotel, which piqued everyone's interest.

When you finally showed up, people's interest was at an all-time high. But now it was because the fabled y/n was a child. "It's a pleasure to be meeting everyone!" You were looking at Alastor but were speaking to the whole room. "I've heard so much about all of you!"

"They've also heard much about you too, dearie." Alastor bent at the waist down to your level. "You've become quite the hot topic here!"

As if to prove his point Charlie picked you up and spun you around almost hitting Alastor in the face. He glared at her but remained calm. "Welcome, welcome! Do you want to choose a room to stay in?"

"Sorry, but I'm not planning to stay."

"I know but just for the time being." Charlie clarified. To that, you nodded. Husk snapped his head toward The Radio Demon once both you and Charlie had left.

"Did you really stoop low enough to make a deal with a child?" He was just barely containing his anger. While he didn't particularly care for those he didn't know at least somewhat personally, taking a child's soul was a place he drew a thick line.

"Why of course not!" He said sounding offended but clearly, it was to mock Husk. "They are under my guidance purely by choice!" Vaggie and Husk both said some version of 'you're a liar' in unison. Alastor simply tsked as he walked away.

Niffty seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "Was thas thay y/n?"

After the crew (excluding Husk) let out a yelp, Vaggie spoke, "Yep."

Niffty let out a villain-esque laugh, though that was just her usual laugh, "I've been meaning to talk to them since they scared off a group of bad boys~" She flashed her sharp teeth and held a knife. Angel grabbed the knife and her before she could get very far.

Back with you and Charlie Alastor materialized next to you and you waved at him.

"Hello, sir!" You saluted him as a joke.

"Hello to you too! Have you found a room?" You nodded and entered said room. Charlie looked at him, her face painted with a confused yet kind look.

"They're the one who hurt so many people? Are you kidding? They are so nice."

"You've never seen them in danger." Suddenly as if on queue an explosion was heard. You shot up from your surprisingly comfortable bed and ran downstairs. Pushing both Charlie and Alastor out of the way while also throwing a quick ‘sorry’ their way.

Once you got downstairs the bad boys that Niffty mentioned earlier were spouting something about you. Once they looked at you they pulled weapons out. You grew and your arms turned pitch black with a slight claw shape. With your new size, you were just big enough to grab them to the point of almost cracking bones. Almost.

"Leave." You said with a deep booming voice that came with the size. You threw them and they scrambled. Once they were gone you shrunk back down to your normal size. Niffty pouted and stamped her foot.

Once you turned everyone had varying looks of shock on their face except Niffty and of course, Alastor who was instead proud. "Congrats dear! Would you like some jambalaya?" You nodded.

As you were walking with him Husk grabbed your shoulder, "Um good job kid... If he ever offers you a deal, don't take it." He felt obliged to warn you. If Alastor's moral code was against recruiting kids, he probably would have pounced on the opportunity to take your soul once you were an adult.

You smiled, "I know I know. But what could I even gain out of any deal with him?" You laughed and walked back to Alastor. Huh. Well, you certainly were being tutored by Alastor.

A/n: Y/n got kinda of edgy at the end-

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader

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hatsukeii · 4 months ago

Note

hiii mootie congrats on the 900!!!

would love to play the guitar ^^,,, i'm thinking a first aid ear mic and a wound-kiss guitar pic.

A little birdie's told me that Denji's my biggest fan <3 (Don't tell the birdie I'm his biggest fan though bc it's a snitch)

("Did it take u this long to come up with something" Shhh shh shhhh... let's focus on u reaching 900 followers 😋🫶🏽 again CONGRATS !!!! u deserve them all mootie ur writing is so yummy ily and your creations)

oooo sick!! the band you've joined is...

kiss it right! / denji x reader

genre(s): fluff + crack!! reader is nonchalant + tired of his bs, denji not so much (he's so annoying your honour i love him i fear...) injury, kiss it better fic! giggles! blushing! kicking my feet like a teenage girl!!

warning(s): injury so blood and pain ig, heavy on the needles because reader is giving him sutures, also ik denji is a bit of a pussy which is a bit ooc but he's supposed to be super weakened after a fight so it makes a little more sense that he's really sensitive to pain here

wc: ~1.1k

your first gig is in... an ambulance?!

setlist:

🎵 someday, the strokes

🎵 calling after me, wallows

🎵 kiss her you fool, kids that fly

"Quit squirming so much, I'm not done yet!"

Denji hates stitches. You know it by the way he wriggles and tenses up with every contact the needle makes with his skin, and how he just refuses to stay still the second he sees the thread of dread. Frustrated, you smack the front of Denji's knee, a signal for him to stay still, but you hit a nerve and his leg jerks up reflexively instead, his shoe coming dangerously close to your chin. You drop the needle and thread in your hand at his sudden movement, and a groan sounds from your throat.

"Shit. Didn’t mean to do that, sorry Denji."

Denji sulks, bottom lip jutting out in an annoyed pout. Everything rattles and shakes as the ambulance rolls past a speed bump, and he almost wishes he was the one unconscious on the stretch instead of Aki. He watches you yank at the end of a spool of thread, and loop it through the head of a new needle. Your tongue pokes out from your pursed lips, holding the needle impossibly close to your face as your pinched fingers jab and poke at it. Your brows furrow in concentration, leading the thread through and tying it in place. When you reach over to grab another alcohol swab, Denji shrugs inwards again, and you take notice of his shift in posture when you turn back to see his legs crossed.

"Denji..."

"Sorry, you know I hate needles." The sole of his sooty sneaker lies on the bloody gash on his shin, and you wipe a film of sweat off your forehead with the back of your forearm.

"You'll give yourself sepsis like that."

"I dunno what that is." He mumbles, head hanging low to watch blood pool out from the torn flesh of his leg. Sepsis. That sounds bad, but not as bad as watching a needle sink into his skin, and come out on the other side.

"C'mon, you trust me, right? I make it better, every time." Denji knows you're right, so he nods, hugging his legs against his chest instead.

"Put the bad leg back down, and let me fix you up, okay?"

The ambulance makes another jolt when he lowers his leg over the edge of the seat. Cold, stinging cotton wipes at the blood that has dried around the gash, and Denji has to grip the seat until his knuckles go white to stop himself from whining. When he sees the needle reappear in your hands, he keeps reminding himself that this could, very well, all be worth the pain in the end. If he's lucky.

You slather numbing cream on the swollen flesh around his gash, before pulling the thread taut in preparation, and aligning the tip of the needle with the bottom of the wound.

"I'm trying to set a personal record, so stay still."

"What's your current record?"

"Minute and a half." You don't look up from the gash when you respond to him, not even as Denji whistles, impressed. You breathe in, eyes darting to the digital clock on the dashboard of the ambulance, and slide the needle through one side of the gash. Denji's leg tenses in his efforts to stay impossibly still, even as the thread runs back and forth through his skin over, and over, and over again. Your eyes squint, face inching closer to his bare shin as you pull the thread tight, and the split flesh comes together with ease. You look at the digital clock again, fingers twisting and tugging quickly to tie off the suture.

"Close, minute and thirty-three. Maybe next time."

When you chuck the needle out into a medical wastebin and look up, Denji is staring down at you, a grin plastered on his face. You roll your eyes as you rip the latex gloves off your clammy hands, sighing out in exasperation. He wiggles his eyebrows, pointing at the stitches on his shin.

"Don't even try."

"But I swear it works!" Denji beams like a puppy seeing its owner for the first time in years. You stand and turn away, pulling the elastic from your hair and letting it fall freely. It covers your red ears, and that's good enough.

"I'm not giving a fresh suture a kiss, Denji."

"You say that every time! I'm sure you've seen worse, right?"

He's right, you have seen worse, but that is the extent of it. Kissing a fresh wound is, quite literally, the textbook definition of immature. And unhygienic. You turn back to look at Denji, who is still pointing at his shin expectantly, and is still pleading with that stupid look on his face. He looks a little too excited for somebody who's just had his leg stitched back together.

"I guess you were good enough today."

Kneeling down again, you meet the sutures on his leg, dried blood gathering around the surface of the thread. You sigh, reaching behind for another alcohol swab, and wipe over the wound once, twice, then a third time. Denji kicks his feet merrily, but stops when his shoe almost hits you in the nose, and you send a piercing glare towards him. Holding his calf with both hands, you bring his shin towards your face, the warm breaths from your nose fanning over his skin.

When you finally, for the first time, press a kiss into Denji's wound, he giggles like a schoolgirl, and you feel a wave of heat rush from your ears to your cheeks.

"If I see you pick the sutures out again like last time, you're never getting another one, you hear me?" You pull the mask that has been sitting on your chin up to your nose, pinching it tight against your nose bridge. The mask conceals half of your face, and Denji sniffs in annoyance when he loses sight of your lips. What neither of you notice is the elastic of the mask pushing your hair behind your ears, and exposing the hot pink tips of them.

"It'll heal twice as quickly now, thanks to that."

"That's not how it works, but sure. Whatever keeps you happy, Denji."

The ambulance comes to a sudden stop, and everything inside jolts forward. You sling Denji's arm around your shoulder, holding him up as he limps off the vehicle and towards the hospital entrance. The wound barely feels like anything. In fact, he could probably walk like normal.

Someday, maybe Denji won't have to ask you to kiss his wounds better. Someday, Denji might even get a kiss without having to get hurt. But for now, Denji thinks that he'll keep pretending that the stitches hurt, so long as it gets you to kiss him.

author's note:

I am acc so ASS at writing full fluff scenarios bc tell me why this was only 1.1k words... I HOPE YOU LIKED IT THO POOKIE!!! i made sure to make denji extra whiny and extra annoying just for u <3 i love him your honour even though he's a little bitch sometimes he's my baby

anyways tags!!

@chuuya-brainrot @staraxiaa @catsoupki @akaakeis @anqelfries @wishi-selfships @fiannee @bailey-reeds @kuroppiii @wyrcan @hiraethwa @stars-tonight

anyways love u guys bye bye see u soon…

#csm x reader #csm fluff #denji x reader #denji fluff #csm denji #denji chainsaw man #denji hayakawa #csm imagines #denji csm #chainsaw man denji #csm #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man

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winterillustrates · 2 months ago

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WHAT YOUR FAV TWST CHARACTER SAYS ABT YOU!! (CRACK VERSION)

Ace: I'd hate you (/affectionately).

Deuce: I'd propose to your mom.

Cater: You need hugs. And followers.

Trey: You're as sweet as the cakes he makes. Also, you're his dentist.

Riddle: Mother issues. Same.

Leona: You have that one sibling you hate and one you pretend to hate.

Ruggie: You'd rob me and I'd call it our 'meet cute'.

Jack: I'd imitate you to look cool, ngl.

Azul: "Shady businessman/woman/enby? That has got to be my favorite genre." looking ass and I'd never judge you for that.

Jade: I'd bring you peace offerings almost everyday.

Floyd: You owe me a 150,000 worded essay on why and how your standards dropped so low.

Kalim: You want to be as optimistic as him, and you honestly deserve more credit for it. Plus, you cry yourself to sleep while hugging his plushie, cause it feels like he's crying with you. He probably is.

Jamil: I owe you a 300,000 worded essay on why he's the best, and I'd better get an agreement for each paragraph.

Vil: You love breaking gender norms and you hardly ever flop. You make long winded essays on character designs or "Ooh, shiny". No in-between. Also, you memorized his last name.

Rook: You kinda freaky and into yanderes. I'm into yanderes, but I hate this dude, so idk. I'd definitely say "I know what you are" to you, and you'd be thinking "She thinks I'm gay/bi/queer" and I'd be thinking "They're a serial killer".

Epel: You love the "Innocent girl who's a spawn of satan" and probably are one, yourself.

Idia: You "win" online arguments by doxing. That and your fav brother from Obey Me is Leviathan. Don't lie to me.

Ortho: You've always wanted a robotic younger brother!

Malleus: You're the majority. Congrats. (Also you have abandonment issues and ship MalYuu. Not that I can blame you, honestly).

Lilia: You say, "Ow, my hip hurts" then does the latest tik tok dance, no sweat.

Silver: You liked the mystery shrouding him. Plus, you love the found family trope.

Sebek: You see through his loud demeanor and really like his loyalty to his friends that aren't Malleus.

Yuu: You love yourself and I love you. <3

Grim: You're a snitch.

Sam: You are waiting for him to sing "Friends On The Other Side". You watched that one animatic by Laizyboy?? (Remind me the name)

Vargas: You actually thought eating raw eggs would make you strong. ... LOL. Jk. You ARE Vargas. I'm sorry, but how did he get THAT high in 2024 popularity polls?!?

Crewel: You have good taste. Might also be into getting praised.

Trien: VALID. YOU WANT A GRANDFATHER IN YOUR LIFE, RN.

Lucifer (^'s cat): Hello..............IDIA SHROUD.

Crowley: You are someone who wishes they could escape from their responsibilities as much as him. "He's a deadbeat, but he's a funny one."

Chenya: You like characters that are on crack.

Rielle: I...-- Is that even a character, dude?

Neige: You're the minority. Congrats. (Also, you are so confused abt the hate Neige receives)

Rollo: CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF, you aren't strictly religious. You also hate the double standards he's shown. And you think he looks actually kinda cute.

Fellow: You love seeing NRC boys get reckted.

Gidel: You think he's the cutest character in Disney. No one can/wants to change your mind.

Skully: You convinced him to skip the mandatory, "Twisted Wonderland is NOT an otome game".

Najma: You love fem!Jamil. Plus, you are the younger sibling that is secretly a little demon. As an older sibling, I'm sorry, but I will expose you at the slightest chance.

Dilia (Deuce's Mom): You're one of those people that Captain Man from Henry Danger was inspired from.

Marja (Epel’s granmama. Thx, https://www.tumblr.com/gremlinvapor): As a Marja lover, you love your grandmother and love hearing stories about her! And your grandma is low key a badass.

SCARABIA STUDENT B: W...who... who are you? Waiting until the ending for this guy. ... Idek what to say, honestly...

Mickey Mouse (Thx, https://www.tumblr.com/gremlinvapor): I’m the Donald to your Mickey. And you are probably so popular. Oh, you are also a cheap stake who fakes to like change, but actually despises it. You only like twst to be ‘woke’, but you don’t even like the characters or talk abt them.

(THIS WAS A JOKE. IF YOU ACTUALLY RELATE TO THESE RANDOM THOUGHTS I TYPED, THEN WOW I AM SHOCKED. Seriously, Idc who's your favorite, and I was not trying to discriminate or anything.

I tried to include all characters I could think of atm, but you are free to request more and I'll shove them in! These aren't even my opinions, I'm just tryna be entertaining.

If you'd like, guess my favorite(s)!

If I misspelt some characters names, I'm sorry and please politely correct me, thank you.)

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gonzo-rella · 6 months ago

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Headcanons: Being the Nonbinary Wilkerson Sibling

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Pride Month 2024 #8

Relationship(s): The Wilkerson Family x nonbinary!Wilkerson!reader (platonic/familial)

Warnings: Coming out scene(s). Hal isn't completely accepting at first, but he's not outright transphobic. And, Ida is her typical self and is transphobic (but nothing is said explicitly). I've tried to make the reader's AGAB ambiguous, but apologies if anything's slipped through the cracks. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: I have no idea why it's taken me so long to write for Malcolm in the Middle. It's one of my favourite shows and I love these characters so much. I've got an idea for a MitM fic where the reader is Malcolm's best friend and when Malcolm goes away for college the reader befriends and starts dating Reese, so let me know if you'd be interested in reading that, or if you have any other requests you'd like me to write. I'm kind of obsessed with and fascinated by Lois and Francis, so there's a lot of Lois and Francis stuff in this. I'd love to write a follow up/companion piece to this fic, so if you've got any ideas for that, or if you'd like for me to come up with something myself, let me know.)

The first person in your family that you come out to is Jamie.

He can’t talk, or comprehend your words.

So, you get the benefits of finally admitting this thing that’s been weighing on you without it having any true consequence.

You’re babysitting him one day, when everyone else is out, and you say to him:

“Hey, Jamie. I know you have no idea what I’m saying but if I don’t say it soon I’m going to explode.”

He just looks at you blankly.

“I’m nonbinary. So, I’m not a boy like you, and I’m not a girl like mom.”

All you’re met with is another blank stare.

“Yeah, I must be going pretty insane if I’m trying to explain this in a way you’ll understand.”

The next logical choice is Francis.

After all, he’s far away and you don’t see him often, so you don’t have to live with him if he ends up rejecting you.

Not that you expect that from him, as your cool brother who respects pretty much everything that goes against tradition.

You call him one day, when you miraculously get the house to yourself.

“Francis, I need to tell you something.”

“You’re not calling me from jail, are you?”

“No.”

“Then, what is it?”

“I… I’m nonbinary.”

“The thing where you’re not really a boy or a girl?”

“Yeah, that.”

“How’d mom and dad take that one?”

“That’s the thing. I haven’t told them yet. Or Reese, Malcolm or Dewey.”

“So, I’m the first in the family to know?”

“After Jamie, if he counts.”

“Man, I can’t wait to shove that one in mom’s face.”

“Can you keep this to yourself? Until I’ve told them. I mean, you can tell Piama if you want.”

“Of course. I’ve kept worse secrets than this. Not that this is bad.”

“Thanks, Francis.”

“No problem. And, congrats. I think that’s what I’m supposed to say.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess. So… you’re okay with it?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Do you think everyone else will be okay with it?”

“If they’re not, they’ll probably come around. But, if they don’t, give me a call, alright?”

He paused, before speaking again.

“Do you like grandma?”

“Ida? Not really. Why?”

“Well, I think that she’d probably have a heart attack if you told her. So… do with that information what you will.”

You tell your family within the next month.

You choose to tell them when you’re having dinner one night.

If a fight breaks out, you figure it won’t be too different to your normal dinners.

Hal looks ever so slightly terrified.

Lois, for once, is at a loss for words, which scares you more than her yelling.

Reese is confused.

Malcolm and Dewey look surprised, albeit not overly shocked.

“What does that mean?” Reese questioned.

“It means…” Malcolm pauses as he looks at you, not sure how to refer to you yet. “You’re not a girl or a boy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“But, you’re a-”

You cut Reese off.

“That��s not how I feel. And… I hope that you can all accept that, or try to accept that.”

Your eyes dart around everyone at the table, then you bite your lip and avert your gaze.

“So… do you think you guys can accept that?”

“Sweetheart-” Hal begins hesitantly, but Lois interrupts him.

“How long have you felt this way?”

Her voice is the most uncertain you’ve ever heard it be.

You can’t bring yourself to look up at her.

“Uh, a while.”

“And, you’re sure about it?”

“Do I have to be?”

“No.”

“Well, I am. Mostly.”

“Okay. Then, tell us what to do and we’ll do it.”

Surprised, you nervously tell your family what pronouns to use, and anything else they need to know.

It feels like such a relief.

Over the next few days, you overhear Reese asking Malcolm questions, but they’re both keeping their voices down so that you can’t make out what they’re saying (but you can infer the questions are about you).

Malcolm and Dewey adjust to the change the quickest.

Lois adjusts pretty quickly, too, no doubt because she’s that stubborn and determined not to slip up.

(Part of you wonders if she’s worried that getting it wrong or do anything to make you feel like you’re not accepted by her or the rest of the family will push you away like Francis)

Reese is trying his best, but he gets it wrong half the time, so Malcolm will make sure to correct him.

You notice that, at first, Hal avoids using pronouns for you as much as possible (and your name, if you asked for them to use a new one), and he has that look where he looks like he’s about to keel over and die, or like he’s having some kind of allergic reaction.

But, as time goes on, and with Lois and Malcolm’s insistence, he will try, and he will realise that all that matters is showing you that he loves you no matter what.

You find that Lois will fight for you in whatever way she can.

She overhears some judgemental mothers in the neighbourhood talking crap about you?

She will give them a piece of her mind.

If you’re still at school, and you want your teachers to use your pronouns (and your new name if you have one), then she will march down to the school and speak to the principal.

Your brothers will stand up for you, too.

Francis has told you to call him if anyone gives you a hard time.

If anyone’s a jerk to you, Reese will either punch them in the face or threaten them.

Malcolm will argue with anyone who gives you a hard time.

Dewey will secretly enact calculated revenge against anyone who upsets you, but will deny it when asked.

When Ida finds out about you, she will show up unannounced, storm into the house and start berating you and Lois.

Malcolm calls Francis, and it isn’t long before he turns up, too.

(Everyone knows that Francis will never turn down the opportunity to argue with someone, especially Lois or Ida)

It brings Francis and Lois together in a rare moment of solidarity, and they will spend hours upon hours in a screaming match with her.

(Somewhere along the line, you get the impression that they’ve all forgotten that the argument started with you at the centre)

Eventually, they’ll manage to get Ida to leave.

You’ll get up in the middle of the night to grab a drink and a snack, and you’ll find Lois sitting at the kitchen table, her head in her hands.

“Hey, Mom? I really appreciate you sticking up for me, but I always knew this wasn’t going to be easy. I can take people being assholes to me. You don’t have to keep standing up for me.”

She looks up at you, her exhaustion evident, but she’s still able to keep herself together, somehow.

“Honey, the world’s a cruel place, and it beats this family down enough without adding that gender stuff onto it. But, if that’s who you are, I’m not letting you face this alone. What kind of a mother would I be if I didn’t fight tooth and nail for you to be able to exist like everyone else?”

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ggidolsmuts · 1 year ago

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Oppaheimer - EL7Z UP Yeeun

"Congrats!" Yeeun jumps in your arms as you welcome her home. "I knew you'd make it all the way! My Barbie!" You've taken to calling her that occasionally since she's gone blonde, and since the Barbie movie came out you've started calling her that more.

"I can't believe I actually did, oh my god!" You squeeze her tightly as she tries to do the same. "I'm so happy!"

"You should be! I'm so happy for you!" You peck her and hug her all the tighter, lifting her slightly.

"Dinner later? My treat!"

"That's the part I was happy about," you tease, earning you a shoulder punch.

"I'm just ordering in, I can't be bothered to go out tonight."

"Okay okay, we'll order whatever you want."

"We better, since I'm paying!" Yeeun pouts, but she quickly changes into something comfortable and snuggles against you as she starts looking up delivery options. "Should we get chicken? Ddeokbokki, or chinese?"

"Whatever you want, if you want fried chicken I can go get beer."

"Ooh sounds good, let's do that!" You peck her cheek and uncuddle yourself.

"I'll be right back then." You step out quickly to the nearby convenience store and grab a few beers, and return to find Yeeun lying on the couch. She sits up when you voice your return.

"Oh oppa, the chicken will be here in like 30 minutes!"

"Great! Want a beer now?"

"Yes please!" You knock bottles together and down a satisfying gulp each.

"Pwah that's the stuff! Should we fire up a movie? There's Barbie and Oppenheimer that's popular recently."

"Ooh yeah, let's do Barbie!" You nod and start looking for the remote. "Or..."

"Or?" Yeeun scoots closer to you, her breath hot on your ear.

"It's been a while oppa." You turn to kiss her, your arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her towards and underneath you.

"Does Barbie miss her Ken?" you murmur in her ear, kissing her neck and hearing her coo.

"Oh I miss you more than Ken. For example, Ken is missing this." She grabs you daringly, palming you over your shorts. "You know what they would do if Barbie and Ken stayed a night together? Nothing."

"Spoilers." Yeeun giggles as your hands run up her sides, lightly tickling her before pulling her t-shirt off. "I guess I need to be Oppen— No, I'll be Oppaheimer."

"Oppaheimer?"

"Yes, Oppaheimer, destroyer of pussy." Yeeun cracks up at that, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you in.

"You're too funny oppa. But," She pulls on your t-shirt, tugging it up and over your head, leaving you as topless as she is. "You're welcome to try." Yeeun teases and challenges you at the same time.

"Cheeky cheeky, you want me to try?"

"Yeah, do whatever you want, I fucking need it right now." You are more than happy to give Yeeun what she wants, and your hands slip into her shorts, squeezing her ass before pulling her underwear and shorts off her in one swift movement. You similarly kick off the rest of your clothing, and in less time than it took for her to order dinner, the two of you are ready for dessert.

"Oh, slowly, oh fuck..." Yeeun moans decadently into your ear as you split her open. She asks you to go slowly, but her hands are on your hips, pulling you deeper into her with the help of gravity. Yeeun's sighing and groaning as you suck on her neck, the two of you adjusting to her stretched fully over your cock.

"You good?"

"That's not what a destroyer of pussy would ask, but yes— ahh!" You pull back slightly and jerk forward, a short thrust rubbing the deeper section of her walls. She opens her mouth in a soft yelp, and you take advantage, plunging your tongue into her fiercely before pulling back.

"Fine, Barbie." You start the destruction process with deep grinds, rotating your hips, following Yeeun's squirms and listening to her moans for where exactly she wants it, your cock stretching both her walls and her resistance thin. A soft lick on her breast frays it just that little bit more, and Yeeun clenches on you lightly. You continue doing so, and she stays tight around you until you finally let go, her nipple shiny with your drool.

"Did you cum?"

"Mmm yeah, just a small one, it was nice," Yeeun sighs, the long drawn out orgasm exactly what she needed as an appetizer. "You feel so nice inside me, so thick."

"You're so tight, and I know you can be tighter, mm!" You draw yourself out and plunge back into her with a smooth thrust to drive the point home.

"Yeah, I'll be loose after though, you are going to destroy my pussy, aren't you?" Yeeun puts on a high-pitch tone, your Barbie doll suddenly coquettish, expressing her desire for a good fucking. "You still have... 25 minutes."

You respond wordlessly, grabbing a toned leg and placing it on your shoulder.

"Oh— haah!" Yeeun drops the tone and shouts as you start drilling into her with short and sharp thrusts. The flexibility of your doll is not in question as you push against her leg harder, hugging it to allow you to rut into her better. Yeeun contracts when you pull out, only for you to drive her walls apart once more, rubbing them wonderfully.

"Shit, oppa, oppa I'm going to cum again!" It had been a while since she came over, but it hadn't been that long had it? She grabs at her own jiggling tits, teasing and playing them for her own pleasure and your viewing enjoyment. Her toes curl above your head, and her legs bend as her entire body tries to contract in pleasure. She's so close, she's pushing herself off the sofa and—

"Nnngh fuck!" And nothing. You stop moving, and Yeeun is left gasping and moaning in disappointment. Her leg, still taut from pre-climax, shudders against you violently—when it goes slack you grab her ankle, licking her still curled toes open one-by-one and kissing the sole of her foot. "Why did you—" You shush her with a finger before kissing down her calf. Silently you push her legs and turn her to the side, and with a grunt you start hammering into her.

"Oh mmm..." Yeeun whines as her legs dangle off the side of the sofa, unable to push back against your thrusts or do much of anything else. She twists herself best she can, watching you fuck her sideways literally. You watch her mouth begin to hang open as you hurry your thrusts—you are slowly destroying Yeeun from the inside out. You take what you want from her externally as well, your fingers squeezing her wherever you wanted, leaving firm grip marks on her delicious thigh and hips.

Her head lays limply on the couch cushion, watching the television shake in her vision. Yeeun can feel drool leak out the side of her mouth, but her hands are too busy grabbing the couch armrest—it feels too good to do anything else! Her entire body shakes with each thrust, her throat opens for a loud moan and her pussy clenches in orgasm, only for all the air to be pumped out of her as her pussy is pushed open by your tool, extending her pleasure. She stains the sofa from both ends, coating your shaft with slick, splashing everywhere in between your hammer strokes.

Yeeun finds herself coming back down from her peak, your lips pressed firmly on hers. Your hands are on her shoulders, continuing to buck heavily into her.

"You're destroying your Barbie so well oppa, mmm!"

"Good, you're my perfect little fuckdoll, right?"

"Yes, whatever you want!" You slide an arm under her knees, and with fuck-fueled strength you lift her and manage to get into a sitting position. You briefly savor Yeeun in your lap, your cock hilted fully inside her. With her legs kept together and lifted high, she can't see in front of her, but she certainly feels her clit being played with and another quick orgasm rubbed out of her.

"You're so fucking tight when you cum." Languidly Yeeun reaches back, wrapping her arms around your neck and undulating against you, riding the small shockwaves of pleasure left over.

"Mmm, make sure to cum in me babe. If you're going to destroy my pussy, you should explode in it, blow it up from the inside."

"Good idea, do you think you can take all of it?" You lean forward, making Yeeun brace herself against the coffee table. After the grinding, the drilling, and the hammering, it is time for the pounding. You hold her slim waist and start doing just that, slamming your bodies together over and over.

"Ah! Oh! I-I don't know, fuck!" She rests her head against the table, groaning as you pull all the way out, leaving just your head spreading her lips open. Your shaft is coated with shiny slick; you sink back inside her, and Yeeun groans, a hand smacking the table. "Nngh god!" You watch her thighs jiggle as her legs shake in another apparent climax. You pull out again, and this time your shaft has some streaks of white—Yeeun has creamed all over your cock.

Yeeun's eyes are tightly shut, the emptiness overwhelming when you pull out—she needed you in her again! The fullness is equally all-consuming when you push back in, and she is truly broken, cumming easily with every body-rattling, table-shifting, pound of your cock into her. She's sagging a little, her knees bending in weakness and to your will—part of her wants you to stop, part of her wants you to keep going, to pound her until she's part of the furniture, ready for use whenever you wanted. Your warm hand clasps over her abdomen, and she grunts at the particularly rough shove, as if you're trying to bring her womb closer to your throbbing cock.

"Fuck..." Your raspy grunt floats into her ear, and her hand drifts over yours. Together the two of you experience your detonation, an explosion of fissile genetic material filling Yeeun to the brim instantly. In her hypersensitive state she feels every sperm pepper her walls, each sending a spark of pleasure straight up her body. She immediately hits critical pleasure, and it is a runaway chain reaction as Yeeun goes taut, her legs kicking out and quivering in muscular frenzy. Your arm around her midriff is the only thing holding her up when she goes limp, her feet dragging on the floor. A mix of her cream and your thick load gather and froth at your connection, and it comes pouring out of her when you maneuver the both of you back on the sofa—she has completely failed to contain your "payload".

"Mmph..." Yeeun reaches for your chin and pulls you in for a kiss. "You really went and did it, I think I can still feel your cock inside of me."

"Yeah? Say it, who am I?"

"Ugh you are so stupid sometimes, fine. Oppaheimer."

"Yeah that sounds stupid now, never mind."

"About time that post-nut clarity hit. But..." Her fingers trail teasingly across your cheek. "I think after destroying my pussy, you need to put it back together oppa." Yeeun slinks down your body, and soon your fingers are tangled in her hair as she cleans your cock, bobbing on it until it is back to full stiffness.

She gets in your lap once more, this time facing you. "I'll need this brick in me." Yeeun kisses your collarbone, biting down lightly and leaving a mark before moving up further. She's on your neck, sucking and nibbling as she grinds her creamy pussy over your shaft. "And I'm going to need a lot of semen, I mean cement, to fix me."

"Fine." You push Yeeun off your lap, only to scoop her up and carry her to the bedroom. "We'll need more space, I can fix you, but it's going to be a messy job."

The delivery person knocks and leaves the fried chicken at the door. They shake their head at the noisy "construction" going on behind the door, lots of pipe-laying and hammering and drilling.

"Oh fuck, cum in me, cum in me now!"

Yep, lots of repair work being done.

A/N: This took too long, as you can tell by how late it is after Barbenheimer and EL7Z UP debuted XD The original idea was just Yeeun as a "Barbie" doll with a bunch of references to it, but then I came up with "Oppaheimer" and it was too good to not use. It's stupid but fun, so eh, good enough, helps that Yeeun is active now with EL7Z UP to remind me about the idea lol. Thanks for reading!

#smut #jang yeeun #clc #el7z up

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satoruxx · 1 year ago

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congrats on 200 followers!!

im thinking of hsr blade + reader who keeps throwing him corny science-y pickup lines :3

examples:

"if i had to choose between DNA and RNA, i'd choose RNA because it has U in it"

"are you an arrhythmia? because you just made my heart skip a beat"

"are you rheumatoid arthritis? because you make me feel weak in the knees"

(inspired by @/nathan_fang_'s science rizz on ig, theyre absolute gold)

pairing: blade x reader | 1.3k+ words summary: all fluff and crack, just a teensy tiny bit suggestive at the end but it's harmless, blade is TIRED, classic sunshine x grump trope bc we all secretly love it hehe a/n: AHHHH hello anon! this was so much fun to write omg !! blade is such a grump i love him. i don't know if i did him justice though lol. i really wanna pull for him but i spent all my savings on luocha sobs. anyways thank you thank you for your support and i hope you enjoy this <33

blade didn't mind working in pairs. normally, he worked well with the teammates he had. following kafka's plans usually ended with a success, and even as irritating as silver wolf could be, she had enough knowledge in her brain to get them out of sticky situations. he definitely didn't mind working with either of them.

you on the other hand, blade was unsure of. ok yes, in your defense, he knew that you were quite intelligent. you were well-versed in the lifestyles of many different galaxies, and you were the type of person who liked to research as much as you could before you stepped foot on a new planet. so the first day blade met you, he did truly believe you were a mature, all-knowing researcher joining the stellaron hunters.

that was before, though. while you still did come off as all-knowing, he now knew you were far from mature.

"will you please quit it?"

you grin cheekily, watching him pace back and forth in front of the locked door you both were hiding behind, on the look out for guards. his red eyes dart back and forth between the door and you as you sit at one of the computers, extracting some files for the mission.

"i'm just saying you could try to smile more, blade."

he scoffs, eyes lingering on you and your annoying grin for a second longer. "nothing to smile about in my life."

you snort, shaking your head as you absentmindedly tap at the screen. "well that's dramatic. you just need something to make you laugh."

"I don't see any funny people around here." he sneers, eyes narrowed as he shoots you a sarcastic grin. you place your hand on your heart in mock offense.

"i'll have you know i am very funny!" you say defensively, shooting him a glare. blade only raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

"sure thing. because everything you've ever said has got me positively giggling. now will you shut up and work faster so we can get out of here?"

a mirthless smile graces your face as you narrow your eyes at him in retaliation. "you just have no sense of humor." you mutter, turning back to the screen. blade rolls his eyes before resuming his lookout, though his gaze does wander back to you more times than he cares to admit. the room is silent save for the occasional clicks of the software you were accessing, and for a second blade thinks he misses the sound of your talking, but he pushes that thought aside.

you somehow seem to pick up on it though, because you speak up again. "hey blade?"

"what?"

"are you rheumatoid arthritis?"

he can't see your face with your back turned to him, and he seems to think you're seriously asking him a question, because he frowns and begins to speak. "are you stupid? do you mean to say do i have rheumatoid arthritis? because, you know that i do not-"

"because you make me feel weak in the knees!"

there's a tense silence as he stares at you, his brain trying to process what you just said. when it clicks his lips curl into a sneer and he groans.

"aeons, will you please shut up? you are so stupid why am i stuck here-"

"hey blade, if you were an element you'd be francium because you're the most attractive!"

his clicks his tongue as you giggle, finally standing up and making your way over to him after downloading all the data you needed. you peer at him mischievously, eyes scanning over his sour expression. "what, not even a smile? tough crowd."

he scoffs, opening the door and ushering you out in front of him so that he can keep an eye on you. "what, that was your strategy? stupid nerdy pick up lines? try harder."

"you're underestimating my resolve, bladie. i will get you."

he hums absentmindedly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at you as he peers down halls for any enemies before sending you the signal to keep walking.

you clear your throat, and he sighs as you begin your inane antics once more. "you must be a good benzene ring because you are so aromatic!"

"stop it right now."

"you must be made of uranium and iodine, because i can see U and I together!"

he pauses, eyes narrowing as a weird tumble occurs in his chest. he glares down at you from the corner of his eyes, trying his best not to dwell on it because aeons above you were just being stupid. he hears you laugh under your breath, and he's about to scold you once more before he hears voices approaching.

"shut up. guards." he orders quietly, pulling your arm back so that you're now hiding behind the wall with him. he watches them carefully, scarlet eyes scanning for any sudden movements as he keeps you behind him. suddenly he feels your finger poke at his bicep as you whisper:

"are you a carbon sample? because i really wanna date you!"

blade feels his face grow hot as he glares at you angrily. he immediately turns around and presses a bandaged hand over your mouth, leaning in close to hiss at you. "you idiot. didn't i say shut up? they're right there!"

you reach up to pull his hand away from your face, though your fingers continue to hold his as you give him another cheeky smile.

"ooh," you whisper dramatically, grinning at his close proximity. "are you a heart arrhythmia? because you just made my heart skip a beat!"

blade's eyes dart all over your face, and he ignores the way that it feels like his brain is short-circuiting since it's probably just because of how reckless you're being. instead he just opts for rolling his eyes and clamping his hand back over your mouth. you let him this time, though he can still tell you're smiling by the way your eyes crinkle.

as soon as the coast is clear, he's leading you back to the ship without a word. the entire way there, you continue to drop more of your stupid lines, and he only gives you annoyed groans in response.

by the time you both are safely back, he's had enough of you.

"-you have 11 protons? because you're sodium fine!" you giggle, and blade's eye twitches once before he's turning around and getting in your face once more. his eyes bore into yours as he smirks.

"oh yeah? if i was an enzyme, i'd be dna helicase, just so that i could unzip your genes." he says, keeping his voice even as he stares at you.

your jaw drops, face heating up at the unexpected turn of events as you stumble over a response. "w-wait, you-!"

"what? you've been yapping my ear off about how great our chemistry is. don't you think we should do some biology together too?" he smirks, red eyes lighting up as he takes in your flustered expression.

"well that's not what i-!" you pause, breath hitching as he leans closer and brushes a strand of loose hair out of your eyes. he chuckles under his breath, peering at you through his bangs.

"damn. you must be an alkali metal. one touch and already highly reactive, huh?"

"blade!" you hiss, eyes darting away from him and he finally relents, pulling back to watch you with an amused grin. you clear your throat, almost like you know how caught off guard you look. "i have to go...report to kakfa."

he bites back a grin, watching you leave through the dark strands of his hair. so flustered that you didn't even realize that in the end you did get him to smile? how amusing.

he laughs quietly to himself, shaking his head. maybe, just maybe, he could try to ask elio to make you his partner permanently.

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hotchfiles · 1 year ago

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HIIIII!!!! saw ur post ab the bash, wanted to rq remus lupin using the prompt “every time i try to make something right, i always hurt someone” CONGRATS ON 100!!!!

lari's 100th follower bash + send me a prompt and one of my boys for a blurb

remus + “every time i try to make something right, i always hurt someone”

remus was the most loyal person anyone could meet. he would die before betraying the ones he trusted. he would kill to protect them. he was also a big fat liar, and you were still trying to understand how to trust him when those two truths lived in him so easily. he was so fearful of losing people lying became second nature, afraid the truth would be worse.

maybe if he was a good liar it wouldn't be much a problem, but he wasn't. his voice would crack, his eyes would avoid you, his face would be immediately sweaty. then you would not only be mad at him for the original reason (almost leaving you, telling people he would leave you, hiding the extent of his hurt, being secretive about his orders from dumbledore) but mostly because he was lying.

at least those seemed somewhat reasonable to lie about, but the argument you two were having now had not an ounce of reason. "someone flirts with you constantly. you don't tell her off, fine. she tries to kiss you and then you just avoid her. fine." you're walking around, listing what you had heard from sirius earlier, your hands gripping on the waist line of your shirt, controlling yourself, your anger. it definitely wasn't fine. "then i meet her and you tell me she's just someone from work?"

"i'm aware it doesn't look goo—" you cut him right away, not even giving him space to try and save his werewolf ass from the mess he had got himself him.

"oh no, it does not. it looks terrible, lupin, what're you doing? keeping safe spaces you can run to when you do decide to actually leave me?" you weren't the type to bring back old wounds to fresh fights, but that was one that would never completely heal. you would always remember lily's worried voice telling you about how remus asked james for help getting away. or when you woke up on a random morning monday, his baggage still done, his face pleading for forgiveness for having almost left.

"i—will not explain myself again." he kept thinking the more he talked, the more the argument would escalate and somewhere you would notice for yourself he wasn't good. he couldn't deal with that right now. he actually felt loved with you, a type of love he didn't have to exhaust himself trying to earn it. you always just gave him, he was terrified you'd take it back if you two kept fighting.

"yeah don't, you might actually tell me the truth for once, wouldn't want that." your tongue drips of venom, even if barely loud enough for him to hear, the loud sigh you let out after almost hiding away your anger. before he could even reply, your tired steps headed to the room you both shared. the tears you've been swallowing trying hard to come forward, the air on your lungs becoming thinner and thinner. you drop to the floor as soon as you get to it, laying down as flat and quiet as you could.

you needed to calm down.

breath in. breath out.

you spend good time like that, your eyes closed, your mind focused on not freaking out. you weren't jealous, that wasn't the issue, being kept in the dark was the issue. if he just told you from the beginning you two could've joked about it, it would't be a big deal. the lying was a big deal. especially when he tried so hard to keep those details away from you, he was actually capable of being a good liar. that was worrisome.

you don't hear his steps, or the way he leans on the door frame watching you. you only feel his presence when he notices your breathing is calmer, and he lays on the floor by your side, looking up the ceiling, his fingers intertwined on the back of his head.

"every time i try to make something right, i always hurt someone." his voice is quiet, sincere, it doesn't ask for your pity, it doesn't make him the victim. it just is. he's just telling you. "sincerely, my love, i just didn't want to upset you... i was—i was scared you would think it was me giving her signs. i was terrified of it, honestly, merlin i—i'm always afraid. there's your truth." you don't reply for an instant, he doesn't move either.

you roll your body closer to him, his arm finds home underneath your shoulders, pulling you to his chest. you feel his heartbeat. his cologne. "such an idiot." he chuckles into your hair, even though he knows you're not joking, you're not trying to lighten the mood. "stop trying to make things right, you don't know what that is." you say finally, your final opinion on the matter. it was true, he had been running away from every conflict, trying to lie his ass out of problems for so long that for him, those were the right choices. the obvious choices.

it stings, the firmness on your voice, but not only he deserves it, he's glad you're still lying on him, your fingers rubbing his chest lightly. you were never afraid to tell him the truth, didn't matter how harsh. and it never hurt him more than he had hurt you by lying. it actually made him love you even more.

he vows silently then, to make things right by you, and with you, to protect you in the same ways you would him. if re-learning what right and wrong would be the thing to avoid hurting you, then he would do that. if learning to be confrontational, to speak his mind... if those were necessary, then he would. he promises to himself only. he keeps that promise.

"stay with me and i swear i won't be afraid anymore."

#THANK YOU SO MUCHHHHH #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin imagine #remus x you #remus x reader #remus x y/n #remus scenario #remus imagine #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #lari's 100th

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irellia · 9 months ago

Text

516.

Snippets of Vi's life in prison as she grows from a girl into a woman. / word count: 4,182 / blood, death, violence cw

She looks up when the cell door rattles. Despite the deep dark bruise she can feel blooming on her left cheek, the crack in her jaw that makes her whole face ache like it's being split in half every time she inhales, she musters every drop of bitterness in her blood to say, with an impeccable tone of cheery hostility, "back for more? can't get enough of me?"

She has been a Stillwater Bay prisoner for five years and eight months when the nameless soldier standing guard that is now leaning heavily against her cell door says, “I knew you... when you were a kid. I knew your father... Vander?”

Vi stares up at the ceiling, watching the lightbulb overhead ripple red, hating the lazily-amused tinge to his voice.

"congrats. so did I." she dead-pans, and does not look at him, her eyes are hard and on the ceiling, her hand curled into a fist at her side on the bed, and she can smell the salt tang of her unwashed sheets, her knuckles (thin-skinned, still healing) cracked and bleeding all over them. She's got blood on her mouth, too, a tooth missing, and the old scar on her upper lip is throbbing. She does not mind it; she sinks her teeth in it and bites, listens to the slow rhythm of the guard's breath, the low chuckle that escapes his throat at her sneer.

"he was a good man. a decent man. You could count on him to make things right. He saw reason." the guard won't take a hint, won't go away, and Vi snorts, does not ask what reason means to people like him whose whole life has been a smooth trail, does not even wanna know. Her eyes are on the ceiling and her hand is bleeding on the bed and she digs her nails into her torn palm, blood gushing from the wound and sinks them deeper, her teeth snagging her lower lip.

She hears the fizz and flicker of the fluorescent lamp overhead, feels the sweat that is trickling down her back and soaking the waistband of her trousers; she can smell the hot blood spouting between her nails, the ripe heat of the air that's drenching her cell, the reek of her bed.

“What happened to you?” the enforcer asks, holds onto the bars of her cell door. “I mean—fuck, you were a cute kid, a good kid. Vander was proud of you.” and she can't stand the shape of her father's name in his mouth, she wants to tear it from his tongue, does not wanna hear it, not from someone like him, another asshole criminal in a fancy suit, biting off more than he can chew, thinking that he somehow knows anything about them, just because he didn't kill her people, didn't shoot them dead, didn't drag Vander away into a cell like they had done to her; he still came for them like the mouth of a gun held to their head, still pushed them deeper into the cold dark mouth of their death, stripped them off their freedom, their choice, him and his asshole friends, every last one of them.

How fucking pathetic, to think that she will give a fuck about what he has to say about her, or Vander or what he thinks be knows about them.

Vi opens her eyes, watches the ripple of the fluorescent light overhead, like the shimmer of heat, like water. Her hand curls into a fist, blood leaking through her fingers, hot and thick in her palm. Her sheets are crimson next to her thigh, they stick to her gloves. Under the top bunk, someone has scratched be well in tiny handwriting. She blinks at it.

She says, finally, “you've no idea what you're talking about.”

ii.

Perhaps she should have tattooed a chemical hazard label right across her mouth: this woman is highly reactive, warning; contents under pressure, will explode right into your face if pushed the wrong way.

She's got one ear scarred from where she launched herself at some asshole cutting in line in the chow hall, and got his teeth in her face. He had gotten her fist in his throat and her nails in his left eye, and she had been sent to solitary confinement for a month.

She's got a bruise twice the size of her hand on her left thigh, another sprawling black and purple across her lower back.

She doesn't remember the last time she's eaten more than soupy, green slop and dry bread.

She doesn’t remember what it is like to feel the sun; all that she knows is the soreness of touch and the pain of every breath, blood on her hands and broken bones. Her fists fly when someone touches her food, shoves her out of their way, sneers at her; she picks fights with every last one of them, every last little bitch they haul off whatever little hole Silco's got them working in and stuff them in her block; she's got thunder in her blood and she is angry, she is furious, years of being shoved into cold, dark places have left her dark and cold herself, her body scarred and bruised; every bone, every surface of flesh, aches.

Her senses are simultaneously numbed as well as in overdrive; she's got a warning in her mouth and her eyes are sharp like the blunt edge of her knuckles, a fist through a drywall.

They throw her in solitary at the drop of a hat, for the slightest reason; it's like she's got eyes stuck on her back 24/7 and she can't throw them off, they are a hand around her throat, choking the air out of her: she breathes the wrong way, does not show up at work, stares at a guard a little too long, a little too hard, and it's over; they steal her meals, stall her in the maintenance room until she's missed dinner, or outdoors time, and the dark, deep anger inside of her flares up and explodes; she's always one step away from flying off the handle, but takes the taunting anyway, takes the beatings and the sneers and the laughter, because she's got to, won't bend for them, won't fold herself into something smaller. She gives as much and as violent as she gets; she's on her way to the chow hall, once, when a guard forcefully steps in her way and sneers, blows his cigarette smoke in her face, patting her down, a sudden inspection, but she's done nothing, she's worked all day at their maintenance room, and she's hungry, she's fucking starving, and he is in her way, his hands on her waist, on her thigh; her fist flies before her mind registers what it's doing, and it's her knuckles, hard and bloodied, smashing through his teeth, a feral, crippling blow to his throat, and he is howling in pain, reeling back in shocked agony, blood gushing down his chin; "fuck you!" Her entire body heaves as long, shrill, dark screams pour out of her throat, "fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" and she now uses one hand to grab onto his shirt, her other hand curled into a hard fist that plunges into his face over and over again. She heaves forward once more and topples over him as they crash onto the floor with her on top of him, and her fist is a dark, black blur in his face. "fuck you!" her hand is numb and aching, scarlet with blood, "fuck you!" her eyes are blurry and heat consumes her. Her whole body is shaking, her other hand furiously clutching at his throat as she lands blow after blow into his face, and then, there are hands on her shoulders, grabbing at her, a foot in her side, kicking out viciously and she screams, like a wild, feral animal, she bucks against them, growling and shoving at them as they drag her down the halls and push her into some cold dark cell. Her cheek smacks the wet floor. She moans, feels the hard sharp edge of a boot in her side, and a dark rivulet, meaty and viscous, slips from her mouth. There are hands and boots all over her and her body is burning with the pain of them, her head is spinning and she cries out, a long, shrill, deafening wail of pure, hot rage, swimming on her elbows on the wet tiles, dragging herself to the corner. She hears the steel door be slammed shut with a clang.

She lays on the freezing floor curled up in a ball and screams, clutches at the tiles furtively, her throat raw and gutted, making clogged snorkeling noises.

She passes out.

It’s an image that she has replayed a thousand times in her mind — a glimpse into her safe haven, a recollection that invokes a cosmic sensation of solitude and mental quiet. Though they seek to break her: in mind, in body, and in spirit, when her mind is at its wit’s end, she thinks of her, of that moment just before dawn, Powder and herself sitting on that rooftop, watching the lights of the city blink like fireflies and laughing; her little sister's hand in hers; Vander, a warm, soft shadow at their backs, and she is well.

She can do anything.

Take care of Powder. Protect the family.

She gasps awake, her heartbeat shattered in her throat.

She sways on her feet and, groans, slapping her hand around in search of the bed. She can't find it, and she blinks furiously, eyes straining against the darkness that's swallowing her up. There's no bed in the cell, and she slumps against the wall, a pathetic, pained little whimper spilling from her lips.

She's no longer herself, she is anger trapped in tissue-paper skin, netted between bones like gunpowder— balanced on the precipice between death and the silent vastness of her guilt.

I can't. I can't... I couldn't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,

she answers him in her head, and passes out again.

This time, no one comes for her, the both of them dead and gone; even the ghosts that haunt her dreams abandon her, she's well and truly all alone.

iii.

She sits on the edge of her bed and peers at herself in the cracked mirror, her hands on her ear, needle piercing into the shell of it, splitting it open. Her cellmate stands at her back, looks down at her, says, "let me do it" and Vi shoves her hand away, says "I'll do it."

Blood trickles down her wrist and she can feel the sharp ache of the hole she is puncturing open. She can feel her cellmate's breath against the back of her neck, and when she feels her hands on her now, carefully sliding the earring through the fresh piercing, Vi does not flinch away. She pours alcohol over her ear and Vi hisses through her teeth and bangs her fist against the wall, and that earns her strange laughter from her, a flick in her cheek. "there. pretty." she says, and Vi snorts, meets her eyes in the mirror. "lets do your nose." she says and when she reaches for the needle, Vi lets her pry it from her hand.

iv.

Something about her feels wrong as she makes her way from her cell to the gym down at rec like she’s more storm than woman, a danger-zone high-risk disaster area, full of sharp bone slabs and a dark snarl on her lips, rough calloused hands swathed up in wraps soaked through with blood. Her lower lip is split but it’s healed over, congealed dark blood in the corner of it.

She takes her anger out to the walls and the punching bags; but she does not stop there; she takes it out to anyone bold enough to get on her bad side, give her a look she does not like, sound a little too condescending for her liking when answering a question she's asked or demanding that they return something they've taken or she believes they've taken from her; she takes it out on the assholes at chow hall that cut in line, to the prick that steals Zeri's smokes, and the guard that gets too handsy with Janna.

She doesn't mind the solitary anymore; if anything, she almost welcomes it. Whatever they throw at her, she takes and gives back twice as much.

The next time a guard gets all up in her face, she does not hesitate.

She swings at them with everything that she's got.

The only time she finds herself actively pouring every last ounce of willpower she's got in her to behave and stay out of trouble is when she starts working on her tats. She doesn't wanna fuck this one up, doesn't wanna have to spend half a month in solitary, tattoos half finished, or worse, ruined in her hurry to get them done before they throw her equipment out.

She's been given a sketchbook and a pen at one of the art classes this Piltie (that Vi vehemently thinks fancies herself some sort of noble saviour) holds every week down at the rec, and although she does not actively participate, sometimes she'll sit and silently watch them work with a snarling smirk draped across her lips, chugging coffee (she's put too much milk in it and it's burnt but she chugs it all down anyway) and when Noble Lady who fancies herself a saviour of poor misguided souls looks her way, tries to catch her eye, Vi pretends she does not see it. She's been staying up at night in her bed, scribbling away in it until she passes out, pen in hand, sketchbook sprawled open next to her pillow. When she runs out of pages, she scowls and doesn't say anything, but she doesn't take her sketchbook down at the rec anymore. She shoves her hands into her pockets or chugs down black coffee, standing against the wall, pretending she's not there for the class.

Somehow, a brand new sketchbook shows up on her bed. She does not question it, won't look a horse in the mouth.

She's got so much art in her that she doodles on her hands until it spills up her wrists and on her kneecaps with their little goosebumps, ink splashing onto her neck and arms and even her back, the part of it that she can reach.

Something's snapping in her mind, synapses flashing, and for the first time in years, she feels alive, she's crackling with it, the fire, the want, the exhilaration.

She gets down to work: makes a tattoo machine from the motor of a portable record player she steals from rec. The barrel for the needle is made from a hollowed out pen. She scoops the plastic out and fills the tube with sooty, thick ink she's made out of burnt plastic, makes the outer case of the pen shorter by cutting it in half. A sharpened guitar string from Zeri's old guitar is what she uses as a needle, shoves it through the barrel and connects it to the motor.

She sets to work. For days, she sits in her little cell and plunges the needle through her skin, feels its sweet, sharp kiss as she moves it along her arms.

When Zeri silently comes to sit next to her on the floor and eyes her doodles in her sketchbook, Vi gives her a strange look. Zeri offers to do the parts of her back she cannot reach, and Vi tells her to fuck off.

Later, when their cell block's dark and quite and there's only an hour of light left before they're forced back into their cells to sleep, she slips into Zeri's cell and leans against the doorframe, watches her bury her nose deeper into her book, sprawled across her bed.

She says, "Sooo..." and strange, sly bashfulness pauses on her lips, frothing at the corners of her heart-shaped mouth, tugging gently at the seam of her lips. "You still wanna help, little one?"

She does.

vi.

She remembers this one time when she was 9. Powder had been sick, burning with a fever that had been refusing to abate for days, and she had helplessly sat on the floor by her bed and had sellotaped her entire hand for some unholy reason, probably because she had been going fucking stir crazy with worry and guilt that she could not make this right, she could not punch the hurt away and Pow had been whimpering in her sleep, calling for their mother and Vi, mother and Vi, and Vi could have never given her mother but she had sat there curled up close to her and whispered that she was there, she wasn't going anywhere, she was never going to leave her, it would be okay.

She had sat fuming in her helplessness, had sellotaped her hand from her elbow right down to her fingers, and then, she had just knelt there, at the side of Powder's bed, sobbing because she had been terrified that she would never get out of it, she couldn't move her hand, couldn't even lift her fingers enough to touch Powder, and she had sat there and sobbed into her little sister's sheets until Vander had come in to find her crying and had had to cut her out with scissors, and to this day she could still remember him patting her head, telling her that it was going to be okay. "Why'd you trap yourself?" he had laughed, ruffling her hair.

Vi hadn't given him an answer.

It comes back to her one morning as she stares at her ruined cell after a sudden inspection (she had been the only one in the whole cell block to be marked for it, then again, she had kind of been expecting it after beating those assholes up with the barbell and her fists down at the courtyard during mandatory exercise; she had come to know now it was common procedure after a malfeasance— huh, what a ridiculous fucking word to use to say that she's beaten some dick's face into a bloody pulp), her whole life scattered along the floor: her wraps, her pencils, the few clothes she's got, an empty can of beer that she has been using to spill the ink she makes out of burnt plastic cups she steals from the chow hall to draw.

She cries over her torn sketchbook with a laugh in her throat, alone in her cell.

vii.

Pink, they keep calling her.

Pink, they sneer it at her like it's her name.

Pink, and Kid, and 516, sometimes just "five one' six" or "five sixteen!" like she's some dusty file shelved away in their cabinet that they suddenly need to spread open and read through, nothing more than the color of her hair, a number, an age.

She's pretending to sweep the floor when it happens, a chore she's never willing to do. The constant flicker of the lightbulb overhead is pissing her off, and she lifts the broom and taps it hard, shaking it back and forth. The buzzing stops.

Someone howls into the silence, a bloodcurdling, dark shriek of terror.

The block is flooded with enforcers, and she stands in the hallway in numb confusion, and gasps when they drag a dead girl from a cell.

She can hear the wet, slick noises her body makes when they drag her out into the hallway, blood streaking the floor like a ribbon tied to her throat.

Someone tries to pump the life back into her heart, but she doesn't come back.

Vi watches the red ribbon of blood around her throat, blinking hard.

They ask for her name, and no one gives it to them, but they keep asking. The air ripples, filled with the metallic stench of death. A fly buzzes around her ear.

There's a rough, hard hand on her shoulder, and she's shoved back, spit splattering against her cheek, and she's shaken out of her daze. She growls out "I don't know." teeth snapping.

"two ninety." someone calls the girl on the floor. She's two ninety to them. "She's dead." She's two ninety to everyone. She doesn't know her name... She never asked.

"hey, grab her legs. Help me pick her up" one of the wardens says to the other.

"Hey! Hey! Five sixteen! clean up the mess!" They bark in her ear, and as she watches her broom swirl the last of the girl's blood on the floor, something inside of her snaps.

She's got a fucking name.

The next time she walks down that hallway, she stops to stare at the floor, the fading crimson stain that has soaked through the tiles, won't ever be completely scrubbed off as though some part of the world is refusing to forget her.

Her name had been Alys.

Vi's name's tattooed on her left cheek.

viii.

“you can be so nice when you want to.” her hands are on Vi's lap, they are sitting in her bed, in her cell, and Vi is painting her nails with delicate strokes of the brush. Her teeth have left bright marks on her lips from the searing tangibility of her concentration. Her patience astounds the other girl, she's never seen Vi hold still for more than ten seconds at a time, yet here she is, brush in hand, lips pinched; the detail is so miniscule and there are small red marks on her skin where Vi has pinched her for fidgeting. Vi's eyebrows have long since been furrowed into harsh lines, so drawn, she's cocooned herself with her thoughts. Her voice is absent when she responds, noticeably lacking in any interest.

"Hey! You gonna let me do this, Miss Chatty, or not?" Vi taps her leg once. “Keep still.” Is all she says.

There’s a fleeting smile in her eyes.

ix.

"hey" she smirks her way to where this massive dude is standing, broom in hand, sweeping the floor. He doesn't recognise her, that much she can immediately tell by the way his eyes (dark, cold eyes, eyes with teeth) sweep over her like she's something he needs to scrub clean too, and sudden, furious anger swells up like a flood in her throat. She swallows.

"I didn't know they locked up little kids."

Her cheek spasms.

"funny. They don't."

He just stares at her meaningfully, like she's some kind of a joke, and laughs. Sharklike, his missing teeth feel like they make the bark harsh.

"you gonna give me what I want, or we gonna have to add another missing tooth to your fucking collection?" Vi growls.

He blinks, his eyes empty and on her, like the barrel of a gun held to her teeth.

She's been his shadow, sleek, unassuming, watching him for days now; he's got answers and she will not walk away from him without them.

He pats his thigh, and Vi knows what he's got stashed away there, has watched him use it on another dude at mesh, unblinkingly chewing down her dry bread as her eyes trailed after his every little move like a hook, sinking into the prey.

"I know what you're in for. I know who you and your little friend work for. So." Easy way or hard way, goes unsaid, she cracks her fingers hard, violently rolls her left shoulder into a slow shrug. "Where's my fucking sister?"

"I've no idea what you're talking about." A shrug, more laughter. Rotten, yellow teeth.

"bet you fucking do."

"Don’t let ugly words touch those sweet lips baby, I’ll wipe your mouth clean."

Her fists clench, her mouth twitching spasmodically, "and I'll color you purple." she plunges forward, follows her anger like a fishing line. She cuts out safety and speeds towards the ocean of her fury.

When they drag her away from him, she's laughing, her hands are numb and aching, crimson with blood.

"I got all I wanted." She hisses in triumph, and they have to rip her off of him, but she doesn't struggle when they haul her off, clawing at her back, shove her back into her cell block. Her laughter spills like gasoline through the hallways, waking everyone up, even the air is thrumming with it, sharp and hot.

That night, before she sleeps, she adds the spiked knuckles she's stolen from him in the collection, under her bed.

"fifty-two..." she whispers, and tosses the t-shirt that she was wearing the day they had brought her here, back over the weapons, shielding them from view. They'll be fucking gone next time they toss her cell, but for now, no one's gonna get their hands on them.

Her head feels lighter when she lays her body down on her bed.

She stares at the tally marks on her wall until she falls asleep.

#arcane vi #vi arcane #one girl wrecking crew #arcane #edit this??? Me??? Take it with all its mistakes I'm Busy and can't edit I'm sorry ❣️we go down with Style™#arcane*#my writing.#she's everything to me!!!!!!! everything!!#writing tag.#The last one is taken from her league lore prison files. Vi collecting weapons from those she beats up.

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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

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hi babe! congrats again on your milestone<3

can i request 🪐-wildest dreams: Rafe Cameron and the song Haunted by Taylor Swift? i’d love to see you write something for it if you can🥺🫶🏻

I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH I WANT TO KISS YOU RN BABE YOURE MY HERO FOR REQUESTING THIS!!

anyway i hope this is what you imagined bc there were so many directions i could have taken with it and it’s not my proudest work so i might redo it one day-

haunted (r.c)

pairing: rafe x reader

wc: 1.6k

these days, rafe constantly felt like he was being followed by your ghost.

as he worked on his bike alone in the yard, as he golfed with his friends and when he did lines at parties or alone in his room he could practically feel you breathing down his neck- leaning over his shoulder and watching without saying a word. he could feel you there, especially when he was with her. sometimes you even were her; occasionally he would be slapped in the face by recollection when he could hear you in her laugh, see you in her eyes, and feel you in the way her fingers danced gently over the skin of his back while he was trying to sleep.

he was haunted by you, and he couldn't escape.

it was all his fault and he knew it. he had cheated, he had practically packed your bags for you and shoved you out the door of his life without a second thought, when all you had ever done for him was, well, everything.

you had been there to clean his cuts after a rough night, or listen when he needed to rant about his dad, his annoying sister, his cruel step mom, or his other sisters impoverished boyfriend who she chose over her own family every time. weirdly enough, this haunting wasn't much different than what your relationship was like at its peak. you listened, and you loved him quietly- knowing better than anyone that he just needed someone in his corner.

he had never done enough for you, and in hindsight that was clear as day, you deserved better. a part of him wondered if he had taken the time to ask about your day every so often, if just that would have been enough to keep you around. you were kind. selfless, even, getting wrapped up with a boy who hardly had the ability to consider how his actions affected others. had you wanted to fix him?

at two am, you heard a knock at your door. you're jolted awake, looking quickly at the time and quietly getting out of bed, pulling a t-shirt on and creeping out to the living room of your quiet apartment as your heart beat out of your chest. who could be here so late? you're seconds from calling 911 when you hear a voice outside the door. "y/n, let me in, please? i need to talk to you, i just need a minute. please." rafe. of course it was rafe. you lock your phone and walk up to the door, looking through the small glass lens to take in his state.

rafe looked bad. you could tell even through the distorted glass as you squint to see better. "i know you're home! just open the door, please." he begs, and you chew on your lip as you eye the door handle. he needed you, you could tell by the quake in his tone and the way his hair was disheveled like you'd never seen. he was also more than likely high as a kite.

you sigh as you cave, cracking open the door and making him jump a little at the sound. he didn't honestly expect you to hear him, but he knew that if you had, you would let him in. "what are you doing here?" you ask quietly, keeping the chain on the door.

"y/n, hey." rafe smiles weakly at you, running a hand through his hair. "i was hoping we could talk."

"what do you need to talk about?" you ask. if he's here to complain about his family, you can't turn him away. you've been his only shoulder to cry on for almost a year now.

"i just..." rafe starts, stopping abruptly. "can you let me in? please?"

you rub the sleep out of your eyes and nod, quickly closing the door to slide open the lock before opening it again, wider this time so he can fit through. you can't say no to him, and you know he would never lay a hand on you- despite his reputation.

you lock the door behind him, turning to look in his direction. "is everything okay?" you ask softly, making the coil in his chest tighten with every word. of course you're worried about him, still, even after all he's done to you.

"i need you to hear me out, okay, y/n/n? can you listen?" he replies and you nod softly. "i just- i'm really sorry. it's like- it's like i can't breathe when you're gone and i thought i had everything figured out but i wasn't thinking about you, and i'm sorry."

you watch, trying not to show your shock. it seemed like a genuine apology, and you know that rafe doesn't just hand those out to everyone he's hurt. "thank you." you acknowledge it with a nod. "that means a lot to me."

"that's it?" rafe asks, sadness evident in his already sunken, dark eyes. "no... no yelling at me? throwing something? shoving me out and slamming the door in my face?" he knows you would never do any of that, but he wishes you would. somehow the act of you accepting his apology feels insincere, coming from you, since he knows you wouldn't tell him even if you felt differently.

you shake your head. "i know that it takes a lot of courage to apologize, and i appreciate you putting in that effort." you explain. "but i can't forgive you, and i'm sorry."

"i just need one more shot, baby, please." rafe pleads, finally understanding that while you didn't want to scream and fight, that didn't mean you wanted to get back together.

"i can’t," you whisper, rubbing your forearm and avoiding his gaze. "i'm sorry."

"no, no. don't apologize to me. just... just take it back and give me another chance and i promise i'll never hurt you again."

you smile at him sadly. "you can't promise me that, rafe."

"i am. right now." he says, nodding firmly.

"if this is all you needed, i think you should go." you decide to say after a moment of silence, reaching for the door again. the calm in your demeanour is driving him up the wall. he needs to do more.

rafe is quickly blocking your hand, standing between you and the door. "i can't go back, y/n/n! come on, don't leave me like this. you don't get it- i'm haunted by you. every minute of every day you're haunting me and there's nothing i can do to stop it and i need you to stop it." rafe spits out quickly, begging you to let him stay. there it is. he hasn't changed, nothing will change. he needs things to go back to the way they were, and that's one thing you won't give him.

"i'm not haunting you, rafe." you shake your head at him. "you are."

"no, no, no. you're not getting it- it's like, you are there. all the time you are just hovering around me and i'm so serious right now when i say you can't leave me like this."

"i get it." you nod at him, hesitating as you reach out to grasp his arm, to comfort him again like you always have. "but that's not me. i think you just feel guilty, and i'm sorry you feel that way but there is nothing i can do to change it."

while there's warmth in your tone, there's a coldness in your eyes that he doesn't recognize. it's exhaustion and heartbreak; wrapped around you like the wind of a summer storm. "you can, just give me another chance. don't leave me like this, baby. you're all i ever wanted, just you." he pleads, desperate now as he grabs onto your hands. "what can i do to change your mind?"

if you're being honest with yourself, rafe reaching out at all was enough. and it shouldn't be, you know that. in hindsight, does it really even count as cheating if he was so crossfaded he couldn't have found his way home on his own? that that girl was just being helpful by offering him a ride, and he was so out of it he truly, honestly did not know better? of course it counts, because there's something in your gut that tells you it was only a matter of time. you stare up at him as he begs for your forgiveness. how could you let him go out into the cold night alone?

"don't you have a new girlfriend now?" you ask quietly, the hurt in your voice not missed by him.

"she's, well..." rafe sighs, running a hand through his hair again nervously. "the whole time i'm with her i'm constantly wishing she was you instead." he admits. "something went terribly wrong, and that's my fault. i know that, but i also know that you're the only one who's ever mattered to me. i will do anything, just, please. i’ll be better. i swear."

you chew on your lip as you ponder what he said. he does truly seem sorry, and you missed him more than anything. he can tell you're listening, the way you always do. he wishes he could look into your mind and see what you're thinking.

"okay." you mutter, avoiding his eyes. he relaxes, you can feel it in his palms as his grasp loosens around your fingers.

"thank you, thank you, i'll look after you. you know that, right? i'll never hurt you again." he promises, his lips pressed against your forehead with relief.

you want to believe him, but you know that you'll be walking a fragile line- hoping you'll never have to see it break again.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie , @whore-4-drewstarkey , @slut4drudy , @winterrrnight , @totalswag , @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron , @urfaveluvr , @chenslucy , @hxnnah-397 , @s-we-e-t-t-ea , @tahliac11 , @ragingsammie , @ietss @dee127

#rafe cameron #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron fluff #700 celebration !!#500 celebration !!

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sovonight · 7 months ago

Text

just one bed | xan/radri, bg1

—✧✧—

[BG1, at an inn. Most of the party is waiting/resting in the common area; only Imoen has joined Radri in securing their rooms from the innkeeper, and Imoen lifts one of their obtained keys on a finger.]

Imoen: So, are we sharing again?

Radri: Actually, I was thinking…

Imoen, without skipping a beat: You wanna share with Xan?

Radri: Huh? How did—Wait, you—?

Imoen: You've been falling asleep holding hands together, sis, it's kinda hard not to notice. (Grins) You've had the hots for ol' grumpyrobes for a while now, right? Congrats!

Radri panics, clamping a hand over Imoen's mouth.

Radri: Shh, not so loud!

Imoen, muffled: But everyone already knows—

Radri, whisper-panicking: It's not what it looks like!

Imoen: …

Imoen, still muffled: Then what is it supposed to look like?

Radri, bringing her hands back close to her chest: …You know those… nightmares… I've been having? He's been helping me with them. That's what the handholding is for—it's just so that I can shelter in his mind.

Imoen, joking: Is that the excuse he came up with?

Radri, admonishing: Imoen! Please, not when—he could hear.

Imoen: …Okay. You only want to room with him to deal with your nightmares, and he's only helping you because he's just that upstanding and helpful of a fella. There's nothin' else going on here at all.

Radri: (sigh) Do you need to make fun of me?

Imoen: I'm not! I'm just making sure I have my facts straight.

Radri gives Imoen a skeptical look, and Imoen sobers, growing worried.

Imoen: …I didn't know the nightmares were this bad, Radri. You coulda told me…

Radri, managing to summon a quick smile: You don't need to worry about it, Imoen. It's no big deal.

Imoen: If you asked him for help, it is.

Radri blinks, then gives a tired smile.

Radri: Actually, he offered. I had never thought, to…

Radri: He's really kind, Imoen. And patient.

Imoen looks at her, then puts a hand on her shoulder with a small smile.

Imoen: Okay. If you're sayin' that, you have my blessing.

Radri: Bless—? (Realizing, annoyed) You've read too many love stories, I swear. Nothing's going to happen between us!

Imoen laughs as Radri shoos her and her blessing away.

—

Having said that, though, she still has to ask Xan if he wants to share a room. She gives keys to Jaheira & Khalid, Branwen, then stops before Xan. Xan holds his hand out for the last key out of habit, but Radri doesn't yet release it.

Radri: U-um, I…

Radri: I was hoping we could share a room, this time. (Branwen and the others shuffle away) To… continue to… share our reverie together.

Suddenly worried it might come across as her coercing him, since she's already handed out the other keys, she stammers—

Radri, bright red, staring down at the key clutched in her hand: Y-you can refuse. I know I've already imposed on you, so much! A-and—I don't know if your offer of help has expired, now that we're not camping outside—

Xan: It has not.

Radri peeks up at him—his expression is neutral, and slightly pink, but she doesn't have the presence of mind to process that—and Xan takes the key from her palm gently.

Xan: I will join you once I have memorized my spells.

Radri: Ah—well—I still have to write in my journal, too. Rather than force you to stay down here, we could go up… now… together?

A new wave of heat crosses her face, and Xan's gaze softens a little, but he shakes his head.

Xan: You can go ahead. You prefer to write alone, do you not? I will not distract you.

Radri: T-then… I'll see you.

She leaves, heading for the stairs, risking only one glance back to see Xan standing where she'd left him, gazing at the key.

—

Her journal entry is complete. Through writing, she's managed to bring her nerves down… and then comes the knock, which just spikes them back up again. Radri jumps up, rushing to the door, and cracks it open. Xan's gray eyes meet hers through the gap, and they stare at each other, until Xan nods towards the door.

Xan: Will you let me in?

Radri: Oh! Right. Yes.

She pulls the door open wide. Too wide. Xan comes in, with his bag over the shoulder, and she realizes she could've offered to bring it up for him, until she sees his spellbook peeking out of it, and remembers he would've needed it for his spells, so no she couldn't have brought it up for him, and—

Xan: Are you going to close the door?

Radri: Oh—yes.

She closes it. Too hard. It's loud, and she cringes, still facing the closed door, closing her eyes tight. There were no doors in the forest; no rooms, no confines with perceptions of intimacy. Her first night outside of Candlekeep, she thought she would never miss the outdoors, but here, she does; it is so much easier to find Xan by the dying fire, to lay her bedroll beside his, than to hand him a matching key that defines the space they will share and ask him to join her in it.

Xan: Are you alright?

His voice floats over her shoulder, from mere paces behind her.

Radri: Y-yes—why wouldn't I be?

She turns to face him, just to prove that she can still be normal, and her gaze is drawn to his—his eyes, in shadow, his figure edged in moonlight. His cloak is gone, and his traveling robes with it, leaving only the light layers he rests in.

She jerks her gaze away from him, feeling suddenly overwhelmed—and takes proper notice, at last, of the room. Outside, their bedrolls were placed side by side, so that they could take each other's hands with ease; but here, the beds are apart, and so set in the floor that they cannot be pushed together without making what would surely be a horrible, loud, drawn-out screech. They could use the beds as they are, and reach across the nightstand at the center to hold hands, but the distance is awkward and the edge of the wood would dig into their arms, and she would not be able to rest knowing she was at fault for his discomfort.

Her chest grows cold. She'd been so wound up about asking him, having him here, that she hadn't taken the time to survey the room beforehand. She's wasted his time; her request is not possible after all. But Xan takes one glance at her dilemma and says,

Xan: Choose a bed; I will set my bedroll on the floor beside it.

Radri: What? No! That's—I couldn't ask you to do that!

Xan: (shrugs) I am accustomed to cold, hard floors—they are an unfortunate reality for any traveller, and I have spent much more time on the road than you have.

(This has the opposite effect of reassuring Radri, and she just feels bad for him)

Radri: All the more reason for you to take the bed! I'll take the floor.

Xan: It would only make your reverie less restful, and you would regret it in the morning. If you will allow me…

He smooths a strength spell over his shoulders, and before she realizes it, he's picked her up in his arms.

Radri: Xa—Xan!

She can't help but clutch his shoulders, still so unused to the vulnerability of not standing on her own two feet, and he brings her towards the bed by the window.

Xan: I have a feeling…

He sets her down gently, her head perfectly aligned with the pillow. With a hand, he smooths her hair from her forehead, and gazes down at her with a small smile on his face.

Xan: …That you are so tired that you will not want to get back up.

Her nervousness had kept her amped up, but exhaustion is setting in now, and she can feel it in her leaden limbs, which have begun to find this inn's common, worn mattress to be the softest cloud they have ever rested upon. She doesn't want to stand again, but if she's tired, so is he—and though his amusement brightens his features, if she looks she can see the exhaustion behind them. She grips his sleeve.

Radri: …You should take the bed.

Xan, shaking his head, ready to refuse: I am resolved to—

Radri: We should share it. Shouldn't we?

Xan stills. Radri finds herself gazing up at him, her mind in that space between states of consciousness where her anxieties fail to sound. Her eyes are no longer on his features in order to gauge his reaction, but merely to observe: the blink; the slightly parted lips, mid-word; the light flush that touches his cheeks. She lets the weight of her arm pull his sleeve down, in turn pulling him to her— his hand meets the bed, his arm straight, braced against it.

Xan: Radri… I…

Radri: I liked laying beside you, in the forest… tracing the patterns in the treetops, trying in vain to spot the stars through the gaps in the leaves. The only part I didn't like was how hard the ground was under my bedroll.

Xan looks as if the treetops and the stars are the furthest thing from his mind right now, but somehow, her words contained the assurance he needed; that frozen expression on his face softens.

Xan: There are no stars here, save for the ones caged by the lone window… but perhaps I can show them to you, still. Shall we walk in my memories again, tonight?

Radri hears the word "walk" and her lips quirk to the side, dissatisfied.

Xan: What is it?

Radri: (sigh) Nothing. Just come over here.

Xan pushes himself off the bed, escaping her loosened grasp on his sleeve, and for a moment she thinks this was all a ploy for him to just sleep on the ground like he'd suggested, but Xan walks around the bed to join her on the other side—to avoid having to crawl over her, she realizes. It's polite, but she wouldn't have minded if he'd done so. Imoen had crawled over her legs to join her, to read stories by borrowed light deep into the night, many times in Candlekeep…

Xan's hand slips into hers.

Xan, prompting: Radri?

Radri: Hm?

Xan: Shall we center my mind, or yours?

Radri: Yours. I want to see your promised stars.

Xan: You seemed rather unimpressed by them, just seconds earlier.

Radri: No, I was only thinking I'd rather have you carry me.

Xan: Carry you?

Radri: Instead of walking. "Walk in your memories…"

She smiles at her little joke, and she can't see the look on his face when her eyes have already fallen closed, but Xan squeezes her hand lightly.

Xan: Then I will. The world will move around us… you need only watch.

—

When Radri wakes, she's curled up on her side, against a warmth that bears Xan's scent. She nestles in closer, until her waking mind realizes that if it is Xan, then she should be keeping herself a modest distance away—

She opens her eyes in a panic. It's a pillow. Radri sighs in relief, then looks across the otherwise empty bed to realize two things: one, she is alone, and two, at some point during her reverie she had escaped her half of the bed, sprawling over to Xan's side. Now that she's well-rested, it occurs to her that intruding on Xan's personal space is a real threat now that she's not bound by the confines of her narrow blanket and bedroll. Had she sprawled across him, too? Is that why he left? She's ruined all of this in a single night, hasn't she?

Sighing, she rolls onto her back, letting her arm hang out over the edge of the bed—and in the corner of her eye, sees Xan, sitting quietly on the opposite bed. He looks up from a collection of items scattered across the blanket—spell components?—and meets her eye.

Radri: Oh.

Xan: Just in time. The others are awake, and we are still set to leave as planned, if you eat in the next ten minutes or so. Shall I bring you something from the kitchen?

Radri stares at him. He doesn't seem to hold any extra disgust for her, which is a relief, but she can't completely read the look on his face, either.

Xan, at her lack of response: Or do you need to rest an hour longer?

Radri, embarrassed, mumbling: …No… I'm…

Xan: I doubt your nightmares will visit you in such a short span of time, but I can watch over you, regardless.

Right. It's just another task for him—an obligation. Perhaps protecting her is just another aspect of his duties as a moonblade wielder. Although, in the back of her mind, she must admit she can't imagine Xan allowing just anyone into his memories, nor offering to fetch any other waylaid elf breakfast in bed… but she pushes those thoughts out of her mind before they can sow hope in her chest.

Radri: I didn't… bother you too much… did I?

She can't help but ask, and Xan pauses before delivering his answer.

Xan: ...Not particularly.

"Then why did you leave me?" is right on her tongue, but she can't say it—it's too petulant, too needy, especially when he has hardly "left her," merely moved across the room. She sits up, letting her loose hair fall into a curtain between her face and Xan's gaze.

Radri: It's just gruel, isn't it? In the kitchen.

Xan: It is, but there are dried blueberries to be added to it, if you wish.

Radri, sighs: They're already gone. Imoen polished them off yesterday—I didn't even get more than a handful.

Xan: Are you certain?

He holds up a small pouch, and she looks over at it: peeking out from the drawstring opening are dried blueberries.

Radri: Huh? But—how?

Imoen would've found them; Radri rarely bothers hiding anything with how nosy she is. Xan wears a slight, smug smile.

Xan: A wizard has his ways. Here.

Radri: You're… you're giving them to me?

Xan: You sound as though I am giving you water in the middle of a drought. Radri, it is only fruit.

Her face heats a little, but she quickly accepts the pouch before he has a chance to change his mind.

Radri: If it's "only fruit," I'm having all of it, then.

Xan, shrugs: Such was my intent.

Radri: ….

There's no winning against him, is there. Xan moves some of his organized spell components aside and stands, lifting the moonblade from its place beside the bed as he does so.

Xan: I will return with your breakfast.

And he's gone, before she can even form the words to stop him. He doesn't need to—she can get her own breakfast. But sometimes the cook is brash and impatient, and her request is drowned out by morning chatter and the clangs and clatters of the kitchen, and she forgoes even gruel in favor of whatever she has left in her pack…

Radri looks down at the small pouch of blueberries, and after a moment, lifts one to her lips. Perhaps this feeling in her chest is gratitude, too.

#xan x radri #sovo note #or 'there are 2 perfectly usable beds but they share anyway'

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