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happy74827 · 1 year ago

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Unspoken Gestures

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After seeing how overly stressed your closest friend was, you decided to take matters into your own hands to ease his load.

WC: 3,210

Category: Fluff

I’m sorry but he was so fine in the movie. Anyways-

『••✎••』

Mike was… he was something. Some would say he was grumpy, and others say he was just downright cold, but you liked to think of him as a reserved kind of person. Sure, he was a bit awkward and unassertive, but he was also one of the nicest guys you knew.

It wasn't even because of his good looks. Well, maybe a little bit, but that wasn't what attracted you to him. It was his kindness. His love for his family, his baby sister. The way he'd dropped everything for her when it became just them. You loved how passionate he was when it came to protecting those he cared about. It's what drew you to him in the first place, really.

That and his face. That dumb smile, that little bit of stubble, those alluring hazel eyes. Those cheeks, that adorable laugh…

God, that laugh. You loved hearing it. It wasn't all that often that he would laugh, but when he did, it made your heart flutter. It made you want to hear it again and again, to make him laugh so much that his stomach hurt and his cheeks flushed with happiness.

He was so sweet, but sometimes he was closed off. He didn't always have the best days or the best attitude. Being a parent to your sister for the past year would’ve worn anyone out, of course, but he never really talked about it. You wanted to be there for him, you wanted to support him, you wanted him to be happy, but you couldn't if he wouldn't talk about it.

It wasn't until a few weeks ago that you even realized you liked him, like actually liked him. You knew the feelings had been there for a long time, but they were always there in the back of your mind. Now that they were there and present, it was like a light had been turned on.

You wanted to be there for him. You wanted to be the one he came to when he needed to relax. You wanted to be the shoulder he leaned on when he was down. You wanted to be the other person he turned to when he needed someone. You wanted to be able to take some of the burden off his shoulders.

You wanted to support him the same way he had supported Abby when she needed him to. You wanted to help him, even if he never needed it, even if he was a bit cold sometimes. Even if he was a bit awkward and maybe just a little bit shy.

That was why you decided to help him take the stress off his shoulders on your day off. He didn't have much of a sleep schedule, with his night shift job and being a parent to his little sister, and you knew he wouldn't turn down help, so that morning, you decided to clean up his house while Abby was at school and he was out running emergency errands. You started small, picking up trash and setting it by the door to throw out. You folded his clothes that had been lying around and piled them on his bed. You picked up the dishes and wiped down the counters. You scrubbed down the kitchen sink. You swept the living room floor. You vacuumed the carpet. You washed the windows.

And you did it all with a smile on your face.

When you were done, you wrote up a quick note telling him where everything was before you left, leaving it in the kitchen. The house looked nice, really nice, and it smelled like lemons. You knew he'd appreciate that. He loved that smell and said it reminded him of when his dad used to make his lemonade when he was a kid.

With that taken care of, you decided to head back to your apartment and change out of your cleaning clothes. When you got back to your place, you took a quick shower and changed into some sweats. You were going to make some lunch for yourself, but you were so tired after all that cleaning. So, you made yourself a big bowl of ice cream and curled up on the couch.

You were halfway through the movie you were watching when the door to your apartment opened. For a moment, you thought it was a robber breaking into your house, but when you saw Mike's presence near the entryway of the kitchen, you remembered that you had given Mike a key months ago when he was over one night to help fix the sink in the guest bathroom.

He was wearing his usual green jacket, but the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and the collar was undone. His hair was ruffled and a bit sweaty, and he looked tired, really tired. It must have been a long day for him.

"Uh, hey," He muttered, his voice a bit raspy. His hands were in the pockets of his hoodie, and you could tell he was a bit stiff. He seemed a bit awkward.

"Hi, Mike." You greeted warmly, trying not to sound like you were excited that he was there. Truthfully, him showing up at your place was the last thing you expected, but you didn't let that show on your face.

"You look exhausted. How was your day?" You asked, setting your half-finished bowl of ice cream on the coffee table in front of you.

He didn't answer right away, instead wandering further into your apartment, taking his hands out of his hoodie pocket to rub at his eyes. You watched as he turned and dropped his jacket and keys on the armchair of your living room couch, moving around as though he was on autopilot, his mind elsewhere. "It’s fine," he responded after a few moments of silence. "Same as always."

He stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck, his voice low and his eyes heavy. He looked like he was about to fall over any minute. It was a little bit cute, but you had to do something to get him to relax a little bit.

"You should be home in bed," You chided lightly, sitting up straighter and pointing to the couch. "Mike, not to be blunt, but you look terrible. You need to get some sleep."

"I had to come here first," Mike mumbled, sounding like he was almost asleep already as he flopped down onto the couch and kicked his legs up over the side. "The house was a mess when I left, now it's...I mean...I..." He stammered, his voice growing quieter.

"Hey," you interrupted, a small smile tugging at your lips as you rested a hand on his shoulder. He was warm, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders, the stress he'd built up over the course of the week. "It's fine, I promise."

He was still, almost as though he didn't hear you at first. Then, after a moment, he tilted his head toward you. He seemed almost dazed, as though he wasn't entirely with you, but he gave you a small, tired smile. It was enough to make your heart flutter.

Mike leaned back into the couch cushions and let his eyes slide shut as he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. You were worried that maybe he'd nodded off, but when he spoke, you realized he was just resting his eyes.

"Why? Why do you keep helping me? You don't...you shouldn't have to do this for me." He asked softly, his eyes still shut, as though he wasn't entirely there. He was vulnerable, you could tell, but he was trusting you with his thoughts, sharing them with you.

You brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face before answering him, leaning back into the couch, closer to him. "I'm helping you because I want to. I want to be there for you."

Mike's eyes opened, but he didn't look at you. Instead, he kept his gaze on the ceiling, studying the cracks in the paint and the stain that was on the plaster. He let out another slow breath, leaning further back into the couch and relaxing a bit like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes sliding shut again as if he was trying to rest. You knew he wouldn't sleep there on the couch, not comfortably anyway, so you leaned forward and took his hand, trying to get his attention.

Finally, when his eyes opened for the second time, his gaze fell on you, and you felt like he was looking right into your soul. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, looking at each other, neither of you speaking. You figured it was because of his exhaustion, but the way he looked at you was different from before. He didn't look tired or tired of you. He didn't look angry or irritated, not even annoyed.

Instead, his gaze was softer, more inviting. He wasn't looking through you anymore. Instead, he was looking at you. Really looking at you. He was studying your face, trying to see who you were and how you worked, what made you tick. He was looking at you the way you had always wanted him to look at you.

He leaned forward, slowly as if he were worried you would push him away, but you didn't move. He moved closer and closer until you felt his breath on your lips, and his eyes were fluttering closed. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the warmth of his skin and the closeness of his body. You could smell his sweat, his shampoo, and the deodorant he used, and it was a mix of things that sent your head spinning.

"I don't...I don't get you." He muttered, his voice so low you almost didn't hear him. "I don't understand why you like me. I don't get it, I don't..."

He stopped, his breath still on your lips, and you opened your eyes to look at him. He was staring at you, looking you in the eyes, and you could see that he was hurting. He had always been so reserved, so closed off, and it was something you hated. You didn't like how much he hurt himself over the little things that people didn't even care about.

But, right now, you weren't going to focus on how closed off he was. You were going to focus on him. You were going to focus on Mike and the way his eyes shone in the light, how he was so close to you that you could feel his skin, how his mouth was just a hairsbreadth away from yours.

You were going to focus on the fact that he had trusted you. He had let you into his mind and his heart, and he had let you see him in his most vulnerable state. He was telling you how he felt without saying a word, and you could tell that he was trying to work up the courage to speak. You were going to focus on how beautiful his eyes were.

It was dark in your apartment, and the light from the paused television screen illuminated his face. It made his eyes glow a bit, and it made him look almost magical, almost otherworldly, like an angel or a god. Like something so good that it couldn't be real. He looked like something you were too afraid to touch, something you were too scared to break. He looked like something you wanted to protect, and he was so close to you, so warm and comforting, that you didn't know what to do.

"It's because..." Your voice was low, quiet, almost like a whisper. The two of you were so close that your lips were practically brushing against each other, and you were suddenly aware of how hard your heart was pounding. "Because you're such a sweetheart, Mike. You always have been. I like you because I know that you care. I know that you'd do anything for the people you care about."

He looked at you for a moment, and it seemed like he wasn't really there, like he was in another world. Then, he seemed to come back to you, his eyes refocusing on you as if he'd forgotten that you were there, and his jaw fell open just a little. His breathing was deep but quick as if he'd been running a marathon. He swallowed hard, his mouth clicking as his gaze darted between your eyes.

"I'm...I'm not that sweet," He muttered, his gaze finally falling back to yours. "I can get pretty rough. Especially with... certain things."

That made you snap out of your own reverie, your face flushing with heat as you processed what he'd said. He constantly said things that didn't mean the way you had. Of course, you knew that. But this time, with that look in his eyes, he didn't sound like he meant it as stress.

"I don't think Abby would appreciate that type of talk, Michael." you teased, leaning just a little bit closer to him.

"Good thing she's not here then, huh?" He asked, his tone playful. He had that smile on his face again. It was a different smile than the one before. The first smile had been sweet. This one was mischievous and playful, and it made your heart do a flip.

"Mike-"

But you didn't get to finish your thought before he slowly lifted his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you toward him, gently, so gently, like you were made of glass. His lips were warm, and you could feel his soft stubble brush against your cheeks. He didn't move at all, he didn't rush, he didn't even press into you. Instead, he let you take the lead. He let you kiss him.

His hand slowly moved to the side of your face, his thumb gently stroking your skin as you leaned further into him. You closed your eyes and felt your body relax, releasing all the tension you had been holding in your body. It was as if everything was melting away, and the two of you were left in this little moment together.

His lips were soft against yours, and he kissed you so slowly, so sweetly, as though he had all the time in the world. You had never felt a kiss like that. Sure, you'd had some passionate kisses, some sloppy makeout sessions, but this...this was different.

This was the first kiss that you actually wanted, that you had wanted for years, and it was so sweet and so soft. His hand slowly slid down your body until it rested on your hip, pulling you closer to him, but he still didn't rush. He didn't want to take what he wanted. He wasn't being selfish. No, he was giving you a choice, he was letting you take the lead and take the power.

You felt his fingers curl into the hem of your shirt, but you pulled away, opening your eyes to look at him. You could feel your face heating up, your skin burning from the blush that had formed on your cheeks, and he let his hand slide under your shirt, his fingers slowly tracing circles over your hip.

His lips were still parted as though he was ready to speak, but no words came out. His eyes were half-closed and his hair was still a mess from when he'd been running his hands through it, and you had the urge to do the same thing to him. You had the urge to run your fingers through his hair and tell him how much you cared.

"Mike," you whispered softly, reaching up to touch his cheek. His hand slid over your hip and down to your thigh, and you bit your lip at the sensation of his skin on yours. His gaze was heated, and he was so close, so close that you could feel the heat of his body and the softness of his breath. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted to keep going, but you knew his schedule, practically by memory at this point.

"It's noon." You whispered, looking up at him from where you had laid your head against his shoulder, his fingers tracing shapes on your thigh. "If you don't get home soon, you'll be late for Abby."

'Yeah, I know," he muttered, his eyes finally averted from yours. He stared off to the side, but you could still see the longing in his expression, the way his lips had parted slightly, as though he were thinking about kissing you again. "I gotta take a shower too." He added.

"And nap." You pointed out.

Mike huffed softly, closing his eyes for a moment before getting up and stretching his arms above his head. He let out another yawn, the kind of big, wide yawn that made his shoulders hunch up. He still looked like he wanted to kiss you, but the exhaustion was weighing him down, and he was fading fast.

"Right," he muttered, taking his hands out of his pockets to rub at his eyes, which were looking just a bit more droopy by the minute. He didn't move, though. He just stood there, looking like he wanted to stay, but he also wanted to go.

"Be careful on the way home." You teased, rising to your feet. "Don't fall asleep behind the wheel."

"I'm not that tired," Mike responded quickly, letting his arms drop to pick up keys off the armchair where his jacket was. He shoved them in his pocket as you headed toward the door, opening it for him. "And if I was, I wouldn't crash my car," He muttered.

You paused at the door, your hand still on the handle as he stopped just in front of you. His gaze fell on yours again, and he looked like he wanted to say something. His eyes were sparkling, and his lips were parted just a little. You felt like you could see his thoughts just from looking at him, and they were just as sweet as the kiss he'd given you.

But he didn't speak, and you knew he wasn't going to. He just stared at you for a long moment before nodding and walking out, pausing only to shut the door behind him. You stood there for a moment, not moving, not speaking. You were still reeling from the kiss, trying to piece together what had happened in the span of five minutes.

But, despite your confusion and the way you were reeling, you had a smile on your face. A genuine, wide smile, the kind that made you feel like you could float away if you tried hard enough. The kind of smile that came with your lips feeling like they were about to split in two and your cheeks hurt from the stretch. It was the kind of smile that you didn't have very often, and it was a nice feeling.

And, most importantly, it was a smile that Mike had put there.

1K notes · View notes

mattsmunch · 13 days ago

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૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა mabel’s and beer pong.

✎: "Like a little bunny," he repeated, "All jumpy and shit, like m’gonna hurt you or somethin’ I dunno."

ᝰ.ᐟ WC: 4.7k

⚠︎: light alcohol & drug usage, “y/n” + “bunny/bun”.

The bustling streets of New York were packed as usual as people rushed to and from their destinations. The sun was beginning to descend, signaling the end of the day as city lights began to flicker on. You were just leaving dance practice, your muscles pleasantly aching as you bid farewell to the remaining dancers, the heavy studio door swinging shut behind you. The cold air embraced you, and a soft sigh escaped your lips as you hugged yourself for warmth. The oversized hoodie you borrowed from your roommate was proving to be a godsend, keeping the chill at bay as you navigated through the bustling streets of New York City. Time was irrelevant here, as the city seemed to teem with life regardless of the hour - whether it was bustling noon or silent late night.

With each step, the sidewalk seemed to be brimming with people. From businessmen and women in a hurry to reach their destination to tourists who stopped to gawk at the skyline, there seemed to be no shortage of life in this city. You weaved your way through the crowd, the neon lights and sounds of the city creating a kaleidoscope of impressions. It was both overwhelming and exhilarating, the buzz of the city seeping into your very bones.

As you continued down the street, you felt your stomach growling in hunger and you instinctively made your way towards the diner you have been going to for months. The small, old place was the only comfort you had found in the big city and always found yourself gravitating towards it, almost every night.

You pushed open the door, the jingling of the bell announcing your arrival to the owner behind the counter. She looked up, her aging face breaking into a small smile when she recognized you.

"Hi y/n," The owner, Mabel, greeted you with a warm smile. Her grey hair was tied up in a tight bun, and her apron showed the evidence of a long day. "The usual?"

You nodded, a small smile forming on your lips as you made your way towards your usual booth by the window. As you settled in, you couldn't help but notice a group of men in the corner. They were loud and rowdy, clearly intoxicated, and their voices were a stark contrast to the usual quiet of the diner. You didn't pay them much attention, as they seemed to be too focused on themselves to care about your presence.

The warm, familiar scent of the diner washed over you, and you found yourself relaxing in your seat, all the stress from the day slowly drifting away.

The bell over the door jingled, signaling a new customer's arrival. You looked up from your phone to see none other than Chris, the infamous frat boy known for throwing wild parties and being a chick magnet. Rumors swirled around him on campus, whispers of girls hoping to catch his eye and guys worried about catching him on a bad day. You had never spoken to him before, the two of you on completely opposite sides of the spectrum. But there was one thing you did have in common - Mabel's diner, where the two of you often spent your nights.

Chris took his usual seat at the counter, his messy hair falling over his eyes. He seemed exhausted but still as charming as ever, his smile lighting up his handsome features as he greeted Mabel. The older woman chuckled, already having his order ready.

You tried to focus back on your studies, pretending not to notice him. But something about Chris drew your eyes back to him, his confidence and magnetism captivating even in the cramped diner.

As he spoke to Mabel, his voice deep and smooth, you couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversation. He seemed to be venting about something, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. You found yourself more drawn to him than you'd like to admit, your eyes lingering on his muscular frame and sharp features.

After a few moments, he stood up, his eyes flickering over the room. For a brief moment, his gaze met yours, making your heart skip a beat. But it was over just as quickly as it started, and he walked past your booth without a backward glance.

You held your breath as he past you by, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. Your heart was beating faster than you'd thought possible, and you chastised yourself for reacting so strongly to a man you had barely spoken two words to.

You watched as he headed for the door, his figure disappearing into the cold night.

You finally finished your meal and paid your tab, bidding Mabel goodbye and heading back out into the cold night. The walk back to your apartment was a familiar one, the cold air biting into your skin as you hurried through the darkened streets.

As you opened the door to your apartment, you were met with the flurry of activity of your roommate getting ready for a party. Music blared from the speakers, and the apartment was filled with the smell of strong perfume.

Your roommate was standing in front of the full-length mirror, carefully applying her makeup. She looked gorgeous, dressed in a tight dress and matching heels. Her eyes were glued to her reflection, making sure every detail was perfect. She glanced up when you entered, a wide smile breaking out on her face.

"You're back!" She said, her voice slightly tinged with excitement. "I was starting to think you were standing me up."

She turned back to the mirror, fluffing up her hair and giving you a sly grin. "I have the perfect dress for you!”

Your eyes widened with confusion as Riley suddenly grabbed you and pulled you towards the bathroom. She had a mischievous glint in her eyes, and you could feel your heart rate pick up as she pushed you towards the shower.

You turned to look at Riley, your confusion evident on your face. "Wait, what?"

Riley rolled her eyes, her hands on her hips. "You promised you'd come with me tonight! Don’t tell me you forgot?"

She pushed you further into the bathroom, grabbing a fresh towel and putting it on the rack before turning to face you.

"Now, hurry up. You have five minutes before I break down the door and drag you out myself!"

You gulped at the stern look on Riley's face, realizing that there was no way out of this one. You reluctantly nodded, your mind racing at the thought of having to socialize with a bunch of people you didn't know.

You quickly undressed and stepped into the hot water, scrubbing yourself clean as fast as you could. Your mind was still trying to remember when exactly you had agreed to this.

You wracked your brain, but for the life of you, you couldn't recall agreeing to be dragged out tonight.

As you stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around yourself, your eyes fell upon the outfit Riley had laid out for you. Your stomach dropped as you realized just how tiny and revealing the dress was.

You began to formulate excuses in your mind, trying to think of a way to get out of this. "I'm tired. I need to study. I have an early class tomorrow..." the list went on and on.

But Riley was having none of it, claiming that you were “wasting away the best years of your life” by staying home all the time.

Before you knew it, you found yourself standing in front of the large frat house. Riley's grip on your arm was unwavering, the yard was filled with men throwing a football around, their laughter and cheers drowned out by the blaring music coming from inside.

As you walked, you kept self-consciously tugging at the hem of the dress Riley had insisted you wear. The fabric was tight and short, exposing more of your skin than you were comfortable with.

Riley seemed oblivious to your discomfort, her bubbly personality unfazed by the crowd of rowdy people. She continued chattering about the guy she came to see that night, her excitement apparent in her voice.

You could feel the stares of the guys in the yard as you walked past, their eyes roaming over your body in a way that made your skin crawl.

The house was packed with people, the smell of alcohol and smoke hanging heavily in the air. As you followed behind Riley, you felt the brush of multiple hands against your skin as you wound your way through the crowd. Some lingered a bit too long, sending shivers down your spine.

Riley finally led you into a backroom, the smoke from the weed hanging in the air. You coughed a bit as the strong scent hit your nostrils, your eyes taking in the room. There was a black leather couch in the middle, the coffee table in front of it covered in different drugs and beer bottles.

Your heart thudded harder in your chest as you saw the group of five people sitting on the couch. Four guys and a girl, all of them looking up at you as you entered. They were passing a joint around, the acrid smoke surrounding them like a cloud.

As you stood there awkwardly, Riley greeted one of the men as "Jake," her voice filled with excitement. He stood up and pulled her into a sloppy kiss, his hands gripping her waist as she stood there stiffly. The rest of the group looked her up and down, their eyes fixed on her with varying degrees of interest and judgment.

After a few moments, Jake finally pulled back, a smug smile on his face. He slung his arm around Riley's shoulders and looked at you, his gaze making you feel like you were being undressed by his eyes alone.

"Who's your friend?" He asked, his voice low and gravelly. A few of the other guys snickered, their eyes still lingering on you in a way that made your skin crawl again.

Riley spoke up, her voice bright and cheerful. "This is my roommate, y/n. She's a total sweetheart."

Jake's eyes scanned over you once more before he spoke again. "Is she a mute or something?."

You felt a pang of embarrassment at his words, and you could feel your cheeks heating up. Before you could respond, Riley quickly jumped in.

"She's just shy," she said, placing a hand on your shoulder.

Jake raised an eyebrow, a sly smile on his face. "Shy, huh? I bet we could fix that."

A few of the guys chuckled at his words, and you felt your heart rate pick up once more.

Riley rolled her eyes and pushed Jake off of her, telling you not to worry about his words. "He's just playing," she said with a dismissive wave. "Don’t take him seriously."

The guys chuckled again, their eyes still fixed on you as if they were enjoying watching you squirm.

As you took a seat, you made sure to keep a good distance between you and the guy you were forced to sit next to. The others in the group were chatting away, talking about classes, parties, and other random topics. You sat there quietly, your fingers fiddling with the hem of the uncomfortable dress. You could feel the guy you were sitting next to occasionally glance over at you, and every time made you sink a little further back into the couch.

The conversation was going on, but you found yourself zoning out, your mind still focused on the uncomfortable dress and the gazes of the men around you.

Suddenly, the door opened and everyone fell silent.

Chris walked in, his presence immediately capturing everyone's attention. He had a joint tucked behind his ear, his messy curls falling over his eyes in a way that made your breath catch in your throat.

Everyone in the group greeted him, some with a nod and others with a more enthusiastic welcome. Jake, who was sitting next to Riley, clapped him on the back.

"Nice of you to finally show up," he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Chris rolled his eyes at Jake's comment, his cool exterior not faltering. "I was busy," he replied, his tone clipped.

"You’re always 'busy,'" another guy in the group chimed in, his voice filled with amusement.

Chris shot him a glare, his mouth set in a tense line. "Yeah, well, some of us have actual shit to do kid."

The rest of the guys laughed at his response, clearly used to his attitude. Riley glanced over at you, nudging your side with her elbow.

She leaned in, her voice a loud whisper. "That's Chris. He's, like, a total asshole but he means no harm."

Your eyes flicked back over to Chris, who was currently lighting the joint that was tucked behind his ear. His gaze caught yours, and your heart skipped a beat as his dark eyes held yours for a moment before he began walking towards you.

Chris sat down between you and the other guy, his parted knees taking up more space than seemed necessary as he began to man spread.

Chris took a drag of the joint, making your eyes water slightly as the smoke passed in front of your face before he leaned back into the couch, his body heat radiating off of him in waves. He spared you a fleeting glance, his eyes flickering over you before focussing back on the group in front of him.

His cologne was intoxicating, and when mixed with the smell of the joint and his close proximity, it was making it hard to think clearly.

You tried to focus on the conversation in front of you, but your mind was now occupied with Chris's presence. You could feel the heat from his body, the roughness of the fabric of his jeans brushing against the bare skin on your legs. The group was chattering on about something, but all you could focus on was the low rumble of Chris's voice as he occasionally spoke.

The group's conversation faded into the background as you became aware of the way Chris's knee was pressed against yours and the way his hand was lazily thrown over the back of the couch behind you.

You tried to maintain a calm exterior, but inside your heart was racing and your skin was tingling in a way that made it impossible to think clearly. A part of you wanted to move away, to put some distance between you and Chris's dizzying presence. But another part of you was rooted to the spot, unable to move or even speak.

You could feel Chris shifting beside you, his body turning towards you slightly as he took another drag of the joint. This caused his arm to brush against your bare shoulder, the contact brief but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Your brain was foggy, muddled by the combination of Chris's presence and the joint smoke. The dress suddenly felt too tight, the material constricting and uncomfortable. You glanced down at your lap, trying to clear your head and steady yourself.

Chris took another drag of the joint before he spoke up. He spoke quietly, his words only intended for your ears.

"Think I saw you at Mabel's earlier," he said, turning to you. His dark eyes held yours for a moment, the intensity in them making it hard to look away.

You could feel your heart thump in your chest as he addressed you directly, the casual familiarity of his tone sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded, confirming his question, unable to speak as his gaze held you captive.

The group continued to chat amongst themselves, seemingly unaware of the conversation between you and Chris.

Chris leaned back into the couch, his arm still positioned behind you, his presence making it hard to think straight. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking down to your dress before coming back up to your face.

You tried to come up with a response, but your brain was fuzzy from the smoke and the proximity to Chris. You couldn’t think straight, your heart racing as you struggled to form words. He turned towards you again, his eyes drifting over your face.

"You're pretty quiet," he said, the comment so low you almost didn't catch it. His tone was nonchalant, but his gaze was intense, his eyes roving over your face in a way that made your throat feel dry. You fidgeted under his gaze, your fingers twisting the hem of the dress reflexively.

Your throat felt tight as his gaze remained fixed on you, making you feel both exposed and anxious.

"Sorry," you finally managed to say, your voice sounding small and timid. "This just isn’t…really my thing."

He took another drag of the joint, the smoke escaping from the corner of his mouth as he spoke.

"Yeah, I kind of picked up on that," he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. "You look like a deer in headlights, kid." his gaze still fixed on you like a predator watching its prey.

His sarcastic comment hit like a ton of bricks, causing you to shrink back against the couch, embarrassment washing over you in waves. Your cheeks heat up under his gaze, your nose scrunching as you try not to let his words affect you.

You could see the hint of a smirk in the corner of his mouth, his eyes still lazily looking you up and down.

Chris shifted his body, adjusting his seating so that he was now sitting even closer to you. His knee pressed harder against yours, the warmth seeping through your dress and into your skin.

He noticed your slight flinch, and a frown tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re like a little bunny.”

Your confusion grew as he observed you, the comparison to a bunny sounding strange to your ears.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked, your voice a mere whisper.

He shrugged, his gaze traveling over your face as he replied. "Like a little bunny," he repeated, "All jumpy and shit, like m’gonna hurt you or somethin’ I dunno."

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks at his words, your heart hammering in your chest. For a moment, you considered denying his observation, but his gaze pinned you in place, making it impossible to look away.

Finally, you managed to reply. " I’m don’t think I’m like a bunny," you said quietly, your voice coming out sounding weak and uncertain.

Suddenly, his hand moved, reaching out and touching the bare skin of your knee. The contact made you flinch involuntarily, but he didn’t pull away, his fingers running lightly over the smooth skin. “Soft…quiet… and cute,” he mumbled, his voice low and rough. “Exactly like a little bunny.”

His eyes were half-lidded, his lids heavy and his gaze unfocused. There was a slight smile on his face, the joint still balanced between his fingers.

Your heart thudded in your chest as he continued to touch your knee, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on your skin. His words echoed in your mind, his tone dripping with mock sweetness.

You could feel his body heat radiating off of him, the smell of his cologne and the joint smoke creating a dizzying combination.

"See, even got the wide eyes like a bunny," he mumbled, his palm now completely covering your knee. The contact sent a shiver through your body, his touch both warm and rough against your skin.

For a moment longer, he lingered, his hand still on your knee, his fingers pressing into the flesh almost as if he didn’t want to break contact.

But then he leaned back into the couch, removing his hand from your knee. His gaze remained on you, his eyes half-lidded and intense, a lazy smirk still on his face.

You felt both relieved and disappointed as he removed his touch, your skin missing the warmth of his hand. You tried to ignore the conflicting emotions within you, focusing instead on the conversation around you, although it was a struggle with Chris’s unwavering gaze still fixed on you.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as Riley appeared at your side, her hand on your arm as she leaned down to whisper in your ear.

"Come on, I need a drink," she said, her voice cheerful and eager. Without waiting for a response, she began to tug you off the couch, away from Chris.

You stumbled off the couch, Riley's grip on your arm keeping you steady as she led you towards the kitchen. You glanced back to see Chris watching you leave, his gaze still fixed on you as you disappeared into the crowd.

Riley led you into the kitchen, the noise and chatter of the party still filling the air. She quickly began to mix some drinks, her hands moving quickly and efficiently.

"You alright?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at you with a small smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said, forcing a casual tone into your voice. But you couldn’t ignore the way your heart was still beating hard, your skin still tingling from Chris's touch.

Riley had managed to convince you to take a few shots of vodka, promising that they would “loosen you up a bit.” You, being rather inexperienced with alcohol, felt the effects quickly. The room started to spin, your head feeling fuzzy as you clutched the red solo cup full of whiskey and cherry coke in your hand, feeling it was your lifeline for the night.

The night had progressed, and at this point, you had downed at least three full cups of the mixed drink. Your movements were clumsy and carefree, the room spinning around you slightly as you stood next to Riley, preparing to play beer pong against Jake and one of his frat brothers.

Your vision was blurred, and you couldn’t quite focus, but the warm buzz of the alcohol made you feel relaxed and lightheaded. You clutched your cup in your hand, giggling at something Riley had said.

Surprisingly, even in your drunken state, you and Riley were completely dominating the game of beer pong. Your aim was sloppy but it was still more accurate than Jakes and his buddy, who were struggling to even hit the cups. Every time you made a shot, you’d let out a laugh, the sound loud and carefree.

You could feel a pair of eyes on you, burning into your back. Instinctively, you knew it was Chris. Without turning, you could feel his gaze on you, making your skin tingle.

His gaze felt like a physical force, the weight of it causing your heart rate to spike. You tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the game in front of you, but it was difficult. Every time your hand moved, every time you leaned over the table, you could feel Chris’s eyes following you, studying you.

The game continued, shots being taken and missed. You were too drunk to care about the score, but it was clear that you and Riley had the upper hand.

The game finally comes to an end, with you and Riley taking the win. The guys grumble about how the game was rigged, but you and Riley just laugh, high off your victory.

Riley flashes you a mischievous grin before she grabs Jake’s hand, pulling him upstairs and disappearing into his room. You’re left standing, a little unsteady on your feet, feeling a bit abandoned.

You make your way back to the couch, where Chris is still sitting, his gaze fixed on you as you approach.

You sink into the couch next to him, the cushion dipping beneath your weight, closing the small distance between you. Your head is spinning, a mix of alcohol and his presence making it difficult to think straight. You look up at him, your vision still fuzzy around the edges, the effects of the alcohol becoming more pronounced.

Chris doesn’t say anything, his gaze still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. The silence hangs in the air for a moment, the sound of the party around you feeling distant and muted.

His presence next to you is overwhelming, his body heat radiating off of him, making your skin feel warm. You can feel the alcohol rushing through your veins, making your tongue feel heavy and your thoughts scattered.

“Gonna need y’to be on my team next time, bunny," he mumbles, his voice rougher than usual, the nickname rolling off his tongue smoothly. "Tired of getting my ass kicked by him”

His words sink into your alcohol-addled mind, the nickname "bunny" making your heart thump in your chest. You can feel the heat in your cheeks, the effects of the alcohol making it difficult to control your reactions.

"I—I’ll be on your team," you say, your tongue feeling heavy. "Next time... promise."

Your head is swimming, the alcohol making you feel light and carefree. Without really thinking about it, you hold out your pinky finger, wiggling it at him, a sloppy grin on your face.

Chris looks at you quizzically, his eyes flicking from your face to your proffered pinky. After a moment's hesitation, he lifts his own pinky finger, linking it with yours.

The moment your fingers touch, a small shiver runs through you, the connection sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You can feel the roughness of his finger against yours, the contrast of his large hand against your smaller one.

You smile goofily, holding onto his pinky, the touch anchoring you in place.

He gently shakes his head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, next time," he echoes, his voice gruff and rough. He frees his pinky from yours, pulling it away reluctantly. The loss of contact makes you shiver again, your hand feeling empty without the touch of his skin against yours.

The rest of the night is a blur, your eyes fixed on the ceiling, watching the LED lights shift colors in a dizzying pattern. Your head is spinning, the alcohol making everything feel fuzzy and distant.

Suddenly, you’re aware of Riley returning, her hair disheveled and her clothes slightly rumpled. She mutters something about your Uber being outside, pulling you up from the couch. You stagger to your feet, trying to focus on her face.

You turn back to the couch, where Chris is still sitting, his gaze fixed on you. Without thinking, you offer a small wave and a “See ya,�� you manage to mutter, your voice sounding slurred and raspy. As you turn to leave, Chris mutters something under his breath, his voice low. "Bye, bun.”

The words barely register in your alcohol-addled mind, but they send another wave of butterflies through your stomach. You’re pulled out the door and into the cool night air, the world spinning slightly as you head for the waiting Uber.

The night ends with Riley helping you drunkenly undress, her own movements clumsy and uncoordinated. She fumbles with the buttons of your dress, her fingers slipping a few times, before finally managing to get you out of it.

She then guides you into comfortable clothes, her hands warm and gentle against your skin. With a few well-placed pushes, she helps you up onto the bed, your head spinning and your mind fuzzy.

She pulls the covers up to your chin, her touch careful and maternal. She smiles sleepily at you before wobbling off to her own room, stumbling slightly here and there.

You're left alone in the darkness of your room, the blankets a warm weight against your body. The effects of the alcohol are still present, the room spinning slowly around you as you shift onto your side. The events of the night replay in your mind, each interaction with Chris playing out like a dream.

You close your eyes, the memory of his voice and the touch of his skin still fresh. Gradually, you drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

꒰ this is an AU introduction. some blurbs will have warnings, some will not. ask, request, questions, thoughts, comments & concerns about bun + fratboy!chris are welcomed :D! ꒱

AUTHORS NOTE: i tried to beat the “shy girl meets frat boy at a party” storyline allegations but i fear i failed😓. i S U C K at first introductions, i just wanna jump into the knuckle deep details LMFAOAOAOAO. anyways let me cook i promise it gets a smidge better …

TAGLIST: @freshloveee @floralsturniolo @joces-wrld @chrissturnioloslittleslut @sophand4n4 @iloveragdollcats @sophsturns @sturniyolo69 @watercolorskyy @sturniolosluttt @mattslolita @strnlslut @gayforchrisxx @warnersluv @ellaapsworld @gwennybenny @chrislova @mattsfavoritestar

to be added, go to this post.

#©mattsmunch ‎#𝜗𝜚 shy!reader ‎#𝜗𝜚 fratboy!chris #𝜗𝜚 shy!reader ‎x fratboy!chris #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #fanfic #sturniolo au #frat boy chris sturniolo

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night-raven-tattler · 8 months ago

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What's your ideal type?

Summary: What would be the best traits for their potential partner to have?

A/N: I didn't want to leave Lilia out of the series even though I only write platonic relationships with him, so I wrote about his ideal friend instead. Enjoy!

Characters: Diasomnia dorm (Malleus, Sebek, Silver) x GN!Reader (separate, romantic), Lilia and GN!Reader (platonic)

Other parts of the series: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Malleus' ideal type would be...

Someone who playfully teases him. Malleus can be quite a tease himself, and enjoys seeing people squirm under his playful eyes. While he knows how it feels to be at the receiving end of that treatment thanks to Lilia, he'd still get surprised if you reciprocate.

Someone who can see beauty in the desolate. Being the goth king-to-be that he is, Malleus' tastes tend to gravitate towards darker aesthetics: abandoned buldings, antiques, vintage paintings and furniture, gargoyles... He can't help but be slightly upset when people mistake a grotesque for a gargoyle, but he's amazed when you correct them before he gets to.

Someone who can enjoy grand gestures. It's possible it is a byproduct of him being a prince, but Malleus and words such as "subtle" or "small" are from different worlds. He just wants to shower you with the best offerings to show his attention. Maybe his desire to put valuables with you is because dragons tend to hoard treasure?

Someone who isn't afraid to call him out on things. Malleus is many things: powerful, wise, capable and kind. But he's also stubborn, prideful and has a tendency to do things first and ask later. When he unintentionally crosses your boundaries, tell him. When he plans to do something before asking, tell him. Don't be his yes man. He'll respect you immensely for calling him out. After all, you ability to treat him like any other student is what drew him to you in the first place.

『••✎••』

Lilia's ideal friend would be...

Someone who appreciates cooking. Lilia is a creative person, and it really shows in his cooking (for better or for worse). While eating his food is... a bit of a challenge, your interest would not go unnoticed. Who knows, maybe enough interest would have him allow you join him for a cooking session! A perfect opportunity to stop him from being too creative.

Someone who can take his jokes and pranks. What can I say, Lilia loves having a good laugh, even if sometimes comes at the expense of pulling a prank or two. While harmless, his pranks can be annoying. Take them on as a challenge, and you'll never find your slippers again, or you will have all of your mugs laid on your kitchen floor face down once every 17 mornings. Depends on you if you find that fun or not.

Someone who gets along with Silver and Malleus. His sons are his pride and joy, no matter what. While Lilia knows that sometimes people just don't fit well together, he can recognise effort when he sees it. If you want that spot at the dinner table, you have to get along with his family first.

Someone who can still love the world, despite any hardships. Lilia has lived on this earth for long and faced heartbreak after heartbreak, uncertainty and grief. His healing is not over, and that's okay. He'll appreciate you talking to him about how the would doesn't suck that badly after all.

『••✎••』

Sebek's ideal type would be...

Someone who respects Malleus and Lilia. If you want any chance of even getting along with Sebek, you have to pay your respects to two of the people he respects the most. While you don't have to kiss the ground they walk on, a few nods of approval during Sebek's endless speeches about their glory and superiority would not go unnoticed.

Someone who likes praising him. I'm not saying Sebek is easily swayed by praise, but he'd be joyous to hear how well he's doing. He's a dedicated guard with perfect scores at school and a will strong enough to move mountains. While the praise directed at him would be something he's not really accustomed to, he'd stop trying to redirect the praise towards Malleus soon enough.

Someone who challenges him. Sebek is not the most agreeable person, but he's always open to learning and improving himself. He's just very, very stubborn. You don't have to dismantle his whole ideology about humans or anything like that. Instead, just give him the puzzle pieces: he'll enjoy the challenge to figure out your thought process while trying to prove you wrong. Whatever the outcome is, Sebek will always come out of the other side with a newfound respect for you.

Someone who can teach him how to be gentle. Yes, Sebek is loud, extra and arrogant. But, above all, he wants to do right by his loved ones. If you can teach him how to come from a place of compassion and genuine goodwill instead of having him default on his aggresive demeanor, he'd be quite amazed with you. His job was never to be kind and gentle, but he can still be those things while protecting the people around him. He'll treasure everything you'll teach him, and he'll hold you in his heart close to his idols.

『••✎••』

Silver's ideal type would be...

Someone who respects Malleus and Lilia. While Silver is not the type to sing their praises during every moment of the day, he respects his liege and his father more than anything. He can't have someone disrespect two of the most important people in his life. It's the bare minimum for him if you want him to pay you any mind.

Someone who is earnest. Silver is a kind and sweet boy. His help and advice are always genuine. His dedication to protect the people he loves come from a desire to pay back the goodwill of the people in his life. He might not notice when people don't have the most genuine intentions, but he can tell when you are a nice person, especially to the people around him. His wariness will quickly dwindle, and he will warm up to you in no time.

Someone who knows when to nudge him awake and when to let him sleep. Silver dislikes how often he falls asleep during the day, and has a lot of guilt from not being to stay awake. He really takes note of how people react when he falls asleep near them or when they wake him up. Even though he still feels very helpless against his curse, if you still treat him just the same then he'd feel the littlest bit less guilty about it.

Someone who shows him he's enough. Above all else, Silver believes in paying back the kindness he has received from the world. He works very hard, harder than needed. Sometimes he needs to be sat down and told that he is doing enough. He is enough. It will not change his hard working nature overnight, but acknowledging his efforts sure makes him feel like he's going in the right direction.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #silver vanrouge #malleus draconia x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #silver x reader

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starminzoo · 4 months ago

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╭──────────────────✎

╰─▗ ▘➤𖥸 obsession in the shadows

꒰ risa's note ꒱ was just watching a show and the sudden inspiration hit so i thought why not just write it down but with yunho. I love my pretty boy sm <3 hope you guys enjoy!

warnings: stalking (not cool), fingering, consent (not verbally but it's there), dirty talk, pet names, pervert behavior, threats, creepy behavior (not much) , not proof read

it all started when yunho the quiet yet charming, shy yet talented student from the art department asked you to be his muse for his painting project which was due in 3 weeks. you said yes and how couldn't you, when he asked you in such polite and hushed manner your nearly folded when he said a silent 'please' for you to become his muse. since that day you started visiting his apartment for the project, you always went to his after your classes, first few days were spent in finding a perfect pose, clothes, and sketching. during that you guys made small talk here and there. since yunho was mostly quiet in college and he used to talk when spoken too you were charmed by his voice soft and smooth as you barely talked with him. when you were posing for him he always made sure you were comfortable or you could try another pose, he always kept his distance and remained respectful which drew you more close to him.

the reason yunho decided to choose you as his muse was that he had enough of hiding in the shadows he had enough of admiring you from a distance, he wanted you in his arms, to kiss you, to love you, to make you his, your enigmatic smile, captivating eyes casting a spell over him, at first it was small crush but slowly it turned into a dangerous obsession, he started to study your every move, kept his eyes on every action he started invading your privacy. he had lost count of how many times he had climbed up the window of your room, lost count of how many hours he had spent sitting on your bed, lost count of how many panties he had stolen from you, he knew this was dangerous but did he backed down? no but the real question is that he thought he was the only obsessed one? wrong as his obsession deepens he also started to take in the strange happening around him, his hoodies, sweatshirts and some other things started to vanish one by one,he started to receive love letters in his locker which were really creepy alongside with a black rose, he had gifts left at his door with no address or name, he was not alarmed and just took it as prank until he received a package as usual no name or anything but as he opened it his jaw slightly fell seeing his black hoodie shredded into pieces, he was wearing this just yesterday as he contemplated on his thoughts , his eyes fell on a note opening it he read it "Next time it will be the girl not the hoodie"

you had just arrived back from yunho's house it had been a long day for you and yunho was mostly done with his painting so the sessions had gotten longer to perfect the painting you took a shower and got ready for bed you decided to go commando and just threw a hoodie over yourself and went to bed. the familiar scent lulling you to sleep, it hadn't been long since you started to drift to sleep when you heard some soft rattling outside your window you smiled slightly in your pillow knowing who it was, to make sure the unwelcomed guest doesn't get the hint of you not sleeping you moved to turn on your back slowly while face snuggled in the pillow, few minutes later you felt the bed dip near your feet as he sat down hands landing your naked legs, warming your body up "you look like an angel, so innocent so pretty" his whispered out his words, god you wanted to ruin him so bad and show him how much innocent of a girl you were there was silence for sometimes before he started to drag his hands further up, you pretended to stretch and spread your legs a bit causing your hoodie to ride up providing him with the view of your bare wet cunt "fuck angel no panties today, you are gonna be the death of me" you chuckled in your mind you wanted to test him you wanted to see if he would give in his urges as he never did anything against your will well except for stealing your panties causing you to buy more and more. you heard his breath becoming shallow as he continued to stare at your cunt, you slowly felt a finger press against your clit causing a soft moan to leave your mouth " i am sorry baby so sorry" you wanted him to have you but you didn't wanted him to be guilty of it so you opened your eyes and stared straight at him. "fuck yunho I want you baby please please touch me" you begged in a sleepy voice.

his face became beet red when his eyes made contact with you, he felt so guilty and embarrassed but as he heard your words he was shocked. you were ok with this? you wanted him? were you sure or just in sleep? weren't you going to call the cops on him? he had many questions but when he felt your on his rubbing it against your cunt , he watched you hump his hand as soft moans left your mouth as you did you he sat there shocked but you snapped him out of it quickly "I don't have my legs spread just for you to qawk yun fuck do something please" as you begged him pathetically your whining and lust filled eyes sending blood to his dick. he wasted no more time climbing up on you kissing your lips furiously one hand holding your throat and the other swatted your hands away as he pushed two fingers inside your gaping hole the action ripping a loud moan from your throat as he swallowed it, his fingers scissored you hitting your g-spot. god bless yunho for having long fingers as they drove you insane his lips busy painting another masterpiece on your neck, your hands in his hair as one attempted to get him naked but before you could he fastened the pace of his fingers bringing you closer to the edge you held onto him for dear life, legs threatening to close but he kept them apart with his thighs "fuck you look so gorgeous falling apart for me angel" his name fell from your mouth like mantra as you finally reached your high your legs twitching, around his hips, eyes rolled back from pleasure, while mouth wide open as moans and whimpers left your mouth. yunho pulled out his fingers and put them in mouth "hmm as sweet as i had imagined" he kissed you making you taste yourself on his tongue. you both laid there him on top of you, both too mesmerized by the soft kisses you shared.

after cleaning you up he climbed back in bed removing his jacket and now just in his hoodie. you pulled him close to you snuggling in his scent which was more strong then the one on the hoodie "so what are we now yun" "whatever you want baby" he smiled and softly kissed your head " but wait is that my hoodie" he glanced down at you as you sheepishly snuggled in his chest and giggled " oh god so it was you, my little stalker" "oh don't act like you are innocent ok you climbed up my window several times, stole my panties which were expensive by the way, so if I didn't had my own little obsession with you I would have called the cops on you long time ago ok mister" you retored back as you playfully glared at him, he put his arms up surrending himself before you both fell asleep peacefully in each others arms.

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theresascove · 1 month ago

Note

can you please do like protective lynn loud? i don’t know anyone else that writes for her on here so thank you for your service🫡🫡

her protective nature ₊ ⊹

lynn loud x f!reader

you go up against Lynn when your schools play against each other—the known competition between the two schools enacts foul play, causing you to get injured.

tw: not proofread, established relationship (dating), protective!lynn, soccer player r & lynn, injury (r receiving, twisted ankle), Lynn pushes someone, lynn is able to carry r, fluff, hurt/comfort, can be high or middle school, bit of cursing

wc ✎ 1.2k • thanks for the idea! I love writing for her, there needs to be more!

Whenever a game rolls around, there’s an increase in pressure from the coach—especially when it’s the known game between your school and Lynn’s. She’d bringing it up often, using it like rage bait at random times whenever you were playing a game so you’d get more competitive.

It was up until the night before the game. You were over at her house, laying beside her on her bed, head resting on her bicep. Her focus was on her phone, but her finger drew shapes on your shoulder.

The feeling light and fleeting, drawing softly on your skin chasing goosebumps to rise.

“Lynn,” you call, voice no louder than a whisper. She felt you shuffle in her hold, ears picking up on the call.

“Yeah?”

You brush hair out of her face, hoping she’d put her phone away and look towards you instead, “our game’s tomorrow,” you singsong.

She laughs, throwing her phone down and twisting to wrap herself around you, “nervous about it now?”

“No need to. I’ve seen you play.”

You laugh when she shoves you.

The day came so soon. You are just resting in her bed, cuddling to fight out the cold that raged outside. Now the last school bell rang, echoing through the halls. Bag in hand, you walked out towards your locker room. Some of your teammates were already there, throwing on their jerseys. Wasn’t long before the whole room was like a flood of blue—the bright color almost overstimulating you.

“Lynn’s outside,” your friend whispers passing by you, a playful smile as she smacks your shoulder, “go talk with her.”

She stood in her red jersey, a complete contrast from you. You crossed the concrete sidewalk, meeting her on the side standing on the grass.

“Just wanted to say good luck,” she pulls you into a quick kiss, “you’ll need it.”

Turns out you really did. You’ve watched Lynn’s games before, hell you’ve even met a few of her teammates—so why did it come as a surprise when the game had your lungs burning for air.

You were 4-1, Lynn’s school having an increased number due to her—quite literally. You stood near the end of the field, hands on your hips—chest heaving. Lynn had a smile having barely broken into a sweat. She tosses the ball back into the game, yelling out to one of her players. You sighed, picking the pace to walk down the field as it was passed around.

Your legs, already sore, screamed at you when you started to prep for the ball racing towards you. Vision blurry and snapping everywhere, you weren’t able to move around when red snapped in your vision—a cleat sneaked between your feet, pulling between your legs. Your right foot twisted and you dropped like a fly.

Your back snapped against the ground, a high pitched hiss escaping you painfully. The grass was wet and cold against your back, the feeling sliding around you when you fell onto your side—hands gripping tightly onto your leg to stop the pain around your ankle. The field lights had been turned on, shining bright and almost blinding you when you looked up.

Lynn had left the game, moving down the field to come close with the girl that had tripped you. She had her teammate stumbling in the same way you had a minute ago, palms of her hands stinging from where she roughed her onto the field. In the back, you faintly heard her dad yell out her name.

“The hell is your problem? Rolling out a foul fucking play like that?”

The ref held a hand out, holding her back. She hadn’t yet looked to you other than when she watched the whole scene unfold. She tried pushing down the ref’s arm, but he wasn’t allowing her to get anywhere near the girl. Your school’s medic had her hands under your arms, pulling you to balance on one foot.

“Can you try to walk on it?”

You shook your head, eyes closed when the world moved in waves, “no. I think it’s broken.”

“Hopefully not,” she shifts her hold, “try setting it on the ground for me.”

Your foot settles onto the grass fine, but any pressure added to it hurdles you to the edge.

“No,” you say, breathing out shakily, “no, it hurts.”

Lynn comes into view, pushing past the medic to hold where she was. She has her jaw clenched, but her eyes hold a warmth.

“I’m going to move you to this bench okay?”

Each step—limp—brings a pained expression onto the face and nails digging into her shoulder. She crouches in front of you, hand on your thigh as the medic talks you through a medical procedure. The medic’s fingers were cold, removing your shoe and angling your foot around.

Any time you flinched, jerking away from the medic—Lynn was steeling you, hands holding you still while she hushed you.

“I’m sorry,” she would say each time, vision staying on either your face or your foot.

“Okay,” the medic stands, “seems like you’ve only twisted it. Just stay off of it. Ice it, elevate it. Should take two weeks to heal if you follow through what I’ve told you now, okay?”

She hums when you agree, moving back elsewhere to probably talk to other school admiration or your parents who were somewhere in the stands still. Lynn rubbed your hand with her thumb, eyes locked on your face. It was scrunched in pain, bottom lip dropped open to breathe slowly.

“Talk me through how you’re feeling. Are you okay if I carry you back to the car?”

Your mind shut off at the offer, but you kept it under qualms. It was so bright when your eyes opened again.

“Yeah, that’s good. I don’t think I can walk right now, I feel dizzy.”

“Yeah bet. Your head hit the ground pretty hard when that bitch—“

“Lynn,” you huffed and she shrugged, standing and helping you up.

Both of your family’s met you, discussing how they wanted to go about the night. Best plan was driving you back home so they can wrap your leg and get you rested already. There wasn’t any reason to stay—especially with how Lynn kept looking back to the girl, it would be better to leave the premises.

She carried you with ease back to the car, you laid on her back—hands on your thighs. Wasn’t long before she had you laughing, turning the frustrating and embarrassing situation into something comedic.

You were settled into your parent’s car, in the back seat. She moved with such care and ease, ensuring your comfort. Before the car door shut, she leaned in to sneak a kiss.

“Message me when you get back home.”

The next day you overheard your parents talking about how Lynn got evicted from school for a day for taking a punch at her teammate. You would scold her later, but now it brought a proud smile to your face.

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moonxknightx · 2 months ago

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : BROKEN SILENCE : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ John Wick x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Angst!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Kidnapping, mentions of torture, trauma, ptsd, emotional and physical abuse, angst

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You are kidnapped by a mafia group seeking revenge on John Wick, enduring weeks of brutal torture for refusing to reveal his whereabouts. When John finally finds and rescues you, you're barely recognizable, shattered by the ordeal. He takes you home, gently caring for your wounds and helping you recover.

THE WAREHOUSE SMELLED OF BLOOD AND FEAR.

John Wick’s steps were eerily silent as he moved through the decimated hideout. The bodies littered around him were evidence of the storm he’d unleashed, his rage manifesting in every gunshot, every blade that tore through flesh. He had come for you, and nothing would stop him. The moment he heard you’d been taken—kidnapped, tortured—his world had become singular, focused on one thing: getting you back.

He kicked open the last door, heart hammering in his chest. The room was dark, save for a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling. And there you were—tied to a chair in the center, bruised, bloody, barely recognizable. Your head hung low, limp like a ragdoll. The sight of you ripped something primal inside of him. He moved quickly, holstering his weapon, eyes scanning you for signs of life.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, his voice rough, almost pleading.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice, dull and lifeless, yet still aware. You tried to lift your head, but the weight of your injuries and weeks of torment held you down.

His hands trembled as he untied the ropes binding you to the chair. Your wrists were raw, chafed from days of resistance. You hadn’t broken. Even when they starved you, drowned you, beat you until you could barely breathe, you hadn’t given them anything. Not a single word about John. Not a hint. But the cost of that defiance had hollowed you out, leaving behind a shell of the person you used to be.

When the ropes finally fell away, you collapsed into his arms, too weak to stand. He caught you easily, pulling you into his chest.

“John…” you croaked, your voice nothing more than a rasp, a faint echo of what it once was.

“I’m here," he murmured, holding you tightly. His voice broke, the cracks in his facade showing. “I’ve got you.”

You didn’t respond, and that killed him more than anything. You, who used to be so full of life, who laughed with such ease in his arms—now you were silent, staring past him with a blank, haunted look. He could feel the tremors running through your body as he carried you out of that hellhole, each step a reminder of the weeks of suffering you’d endured without him. Each step weighed down by the guilt that crushed him.

When he brought you home, it didn’t feel like home anymore. The warmth had bled out of the walls, leaving only a cold, empty space that mirrored the emptiness in your eyes.

John helped you into the bathroom, his touch gentle, almost afraid of breaking you further. Your skin was marred with bruises, cuts, the evidence of everything they’d done to you. He drew a bath, the steam rising in the small space as he eased you into the water. You winced, your body so broken that even the warm water felt like a new kind of torment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, though he wasn’t sure if you even heard him. His fingers were careful as they washed away the grime and blood, every touch a silent apology. He washed your hair, his movements slow and deliberate, as if each gesture might undo the horrors of what had happened.

But you were silent still, your eyes closed, face pale and gaunt. You didn’t cry. You hadn’t cried once since he found you. He didn’t know whether that was a relief or a worse kind of nightmare.

After the bath, he dressed you in one of his shirts, the fabric hanging loosely on your fragile frame. He led you to bed, helping you under the covers, though you lay there like a ghost, staring at the ceiling.

Days passed, and you began to speak again. Slowly, haltingly, like you were relearning how. At first, it was a few words, barely audible.

"Thank you," you'd whisper when he brought you food, though you never ate more than a few bites.

"Okay," you’d mutter when he asked if you needed anything, though your voice always trailed off, as if you were unsure of what you were saying.

He watched you, never leaving your side for long. He was patient, though the fire inside him still raged—a quiet, controlled fury, always on the verge of exploding.

One night, as he sat beside you, you turned to him. Your face was drawn, eyes glassy, but there was something behind them now. Something fragile, yet real.

“John…” Your voice wavered, and for the first time, he saw the tears welling up, the flood you’d been holding back. His heart clenched in his chest as you reached for him, fingers trembling.

He was by your side in an instant, taking your hand, feeling the chill of your skin.

“They… they didn’t stop.” Your voice cracked, and then the dam broke. “They kept… they kept hitting me. They tried to drown me. They wanted me to tell them where you were… but I didn’t, John. I didn’t tell them.”

Your words came out in gasps, sobs choking you as the weight of everything you’d endured came crashing down.

“I thought… I thought I was going to die. Every day, I thought this would be it. And I kept thinking about you… about how I couldn’t give them anything, not after everything we’ve been through.” Your voice wavered, breaking. “But it hurt so much, John. It hurt so much.”

He held you then, pulling you into his arms, his heart shattering with every word you spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair, over and over again. “I’m so sorry.”

You buried your face in his chest, sobs wracking your body, and for the first time since he found you, you cried. You let it all out—the fear, the pain, the hopelessness you’d carried for so long. And John held you through it all, his hands trembling as he rocked you gently, whispering the same promises again and again.

“I’m done,” he said quietly, his voice low but firm. “I’m done with this life. I’m not losing you again. I’m not doing this anymore.”

You didn’t respond, but he felt the way your grip tightened on him, the way your body finally relaxed in his arms. He made the vow then, to you, to himself. The world could burn, but you were all that mattered now.

John Wick, the assassin, was no more.

———

I watched the first two John Wick movies today and I’m lowkey crushing on John so i decided to write something small…i might make more oneshots about him🤷🏽‍♀️

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick fluff #john wick #keanu reeves

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aliengirlwrites · 5 months ago

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Towa Otonashi x Fem! Reader

✎ Sweet like a flower's nectar

╰┈➤ 「 warnings 」 fluff, smut, dom Towa, reader receiving, overstimulation, small angst, pinned down, rough Towa⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Pretty little tears rolled down your cheeks adorning the pure ecstasy that countered your face. The melody of groans, panting, and moans echoed throughout the walls of the water cave. You bite down on your bottom lip attempting to quiet down your shameful moans, only to have a familiar strong hand squeeze your face, squeezing on the plump skin of your cheeks making you gasp.

“Stop that dandelion…I want to hear you”

Towa said as he pressed his weight down on you with an annoyed pout . He didn't care if you two got caught, why would he? If he wanted to do something he would—even if it was having you pressed down onto the cold rocky floor crying from the overwhelming pleasure Towa would bring with each thrust, kissing your womb with his shaft.

When Towa said he wanted to do something fun as he handed you a dandelion with that sweet carefree smile of his, you had envisioned he was going to take you around Jabberwock to forage for more flowers, not to test your limits and have you squirming beneath him—begging him to give you a momentary break from all the orgasams he easily stripped from you. You felt your body become overstimulated with pain and pleasure, your voice becoming hoarse from all the filthy screams that left your lips.

“Towa…please”

You said biting down on your lip as it drew blood from it. Your voice barely audible, nothing but pants and low groans left your mouth. How long had you been in this position for? 30 minutes? An hour? 2 hours? You were unsure of how much time had passed by since Towa dragged you here. You were completely cock drunk from every second Towa kept pushing you beyond your limits, his stamina was remarkable there wasn't a moment Towa stopped, he looked completely fine as he kept abusing your hole repeatedly, stuffing you with his seed as it overflowed out of you multiple times.

“Hmmmmmmm”

Towa said as he tilted his head stopping mid thrust with an expression of deep thought for a few seconds, thinking over what you just said.

“Alright Dandelion”

He said as he pulled out from you and dropped your hips. Your body hit the cold ground with a loud thud—you were unable to move or even feel your lower half body. You heard Towa giggle as he towered over you looking at your aching body from above, admiring what state he had left you in. His eyes drifted down your body, from your exhausted face to your quivering legs covered in both of your messes. Towa seemed to have little to no regard for your state, but he enjoyed the way you looked sparse out on the ground.

“You look so cute like that Dandelion! I can't help myself to resist you”

He said as he pulled up his pants shuffling to zip them up. Whenever he finished he scurried over to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder like it was nothing. You gasped and wailed in pain for a brief moment before realizing he was just going to walk out with you like that, no bottoms and a ripped open shirt.

“Hey wait, stop please ”

You said as you tried to get Towa's attention before walking out with you like that, even if it was dark outside and Haru probably already finished his last tour of the day you didn't find it appealing to have a chance of people looking at you in this state.

“Please Towa wait”

Finally Towa turned his head over his shoulder to look at you with a curious expression.

“Hm? What is it”

He said as he stopped in his tracks looking at you with a confused face.

“I can't go out like this—I don't want to risk others seeing me like this”

You said as you looked a bit distressed from the thought of your peers perhaps seeing you in such a vulnerable state. Towa stared at you examining your facial features, he may not understand why exactly it makes you so upset but he doesn't want to upset his precious flower so he puts you down and slides off his cardigan knowing that in any love story he has read before, that would be the appropriate reaction.

“Here you can wear it!”

Towa said as he sweetly smiled at you, slightly swaying from left to right offering you his cardigan. You took it without hesitation and slid it over your half bare body. Towa also liked the idea of you using his cardigan—the way it looked on you made him smile, his goat-like pupils dilating at the sight of you wearing it; was this what soulmates felt? He pulled your face close to his and smashed his lips against yours with passion and love. His sudden kiss took you by surprise but you reciprocated back, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, his hand sneaking around your waist as he needingly pulled you closer to him. After a few seconds he pulled away and happily hummed as he swept you off your feet and threw you over his shoulder again.

“You taste as sweet as a flower!”

He said in a happy-go-lucky tone humming a familiar song. You felt your face flush from his comment, you just chuckled as a response. Oh how you wish you could truly be his soulmate, maybe if you had more time it could have been true. For now you just enjoyed the moment with him for as long as it could last.

#towaotonashi #tokyo debunker #x reader #smut #tdb #tokyo debunker x reader #towa otonashi

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avatarkv · 2 years ago

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I ! Feels like we had matching wounds, but mine's still black and bruised (and yours is perfectly fine now.)

✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing.

Content & warning: Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! Purely angst, at least for this chapter. Neteyam dies in the forest (the scene were quaritch first holds everyone hostage) I will not be following his storyline, because that's for you to take 🫵🫵🫵 buckle up.

Song: The Exit, Conan Gray.

You stay with the ikrans.

Neteyam stepped forward without hesitation, stomach in knots with anxiety. “Father, I’m a warrior. I’m supposed to fight.”

“I need you here,” he cut through his attempt to follow, nostrils flaring and jaw locked. There was no room for negotiation with the authority that laced his tone. “I need you to listen when I say you stay here.” he jabbed his finger on his chest, sealing him stiffly on the spot. The seconds seemed to hang in the air like lead weights, and any moment lost was an opportunity for danger to strike– he could only thin his lips and sharply nod.

“I mean it, Neteyam.”

Such a simple ask of his father could have spared him from the rage of war, but how could you not expect the eldest to fight when his very siblings were in danger? Jake should have known better than to trust the empty ‘yes sir’ off his son’s lips– a warrior born out of his own teachings. You couldn’t blame him for following suit the second his parents were out of sight and into the wild.

How did it get to this? Jake’s thoughts would drift every painful step he took further. He knew it was in Lo’ak’s nature to be so reckless, hell, he took after his father himself– but before him, Kiri, or Tuk, it was just you and Neteyam.

He remembered feeling ecstasy tremble down his whole body when he first cradled Neteyam. The moment the olo’eyktan had presented him to the clan, carrying him for everyone to see, he couldn’t see his son himself with the unshed tears blurring his vision. A part of him was relieved that he took after his mother, thinking it would have been a handful dealing with another Jake– but perhaps it was just a ploy; a first born’s excellence that they soon yearned for another.

Then you came, another splitting image of Neytiri. The people often mistook you and Neteyam for twins and she’d reveled in the praises you both would get. You were her first daughter— right from the ear-splitting cries you let out the moment you were out of your mother’s womb to the battle cries you had worked on earlier in years, mimicked from Neytiri herself, she always swelled in pride. Unlike the eldest’s reserved composure, you were the opposite; curious and buoyant, yet still as shy and collected.

It was different with Jake; he was new to this— absolutely clueless and terrified. After you came, the jolt wasn’t similar to Neteyam’s; you were also his first babygirl. He wondered if he held you correctly, if the natural strictness he had with his son was fitting for you– oh Eywa, he definitely had to relearn weaving with Neytiri. The profound hesitation when it came to you was nerve-wracking, but the way your little hand would make its way around your father’s finger every time would ease the tight crease between his eyebrows, almost like you knew his very troubles.

You were the kindest, most sweetest child– a daddy’s girl, much to Neytiri’s complaints.

“Neteyam, scooch!” You yelled in a whisper, trying to desperately hide yourself in thick leaves and bushes. He couldn’t stifle his little giggles either, hearts pumping wildly in anticipation of your father. “Once he comes, remember to run left, alright?”

He nodded sharply. His face coated in mud in the guise of war paint that you drew yourself. Yours were drawn lousily, the strokes shaky and a mess.

Fee-fi-fo-fum, he chanted thickly, growing deeper and louder every stomp! The children could see him between the gaps— hands clawed and raised, stance menacing. You can run but you can’t hide!

Both of you shrunk in suspense, eager to best your father in playtime.

Then it was silent. Too silent. Your ears lifted curiously, eyes scanning the area only to be greeted by your father parting the leaves and surprising you both. You squealed a run and bolted to the right. Not even a second later, you heard the own panting of your twin beside you. You stared at him incredulously, legs faltering a bit, “Neteyam, I told you to go left!”

“This is left!”

“No, I’m right—! This is right, you skxawng!”

Amidst your silly bickering, Jake cunningly captured Neteyam, grabbing him from the armpits and hoisting him up high into the air. You could hear your brother’s laughter growing louder as Jake blew raspberries on his stomach, pretend-eating him with loud munches– his toothless bites making the younger’s giddiness double in size. You shrieked and sprinted faster, making a beeline to a different direction. This monster’s more unmerciful than you thought! With a determined look, you stopped behind a tree. I have to save Neteyam!

“One down and another to go!” You heard your father roar again, your brother giggling as he trailed along his heavy steps.

You threw a rock as hard as you can, shifting Jake’s attention to the noise, and before he knew it, you came running towards him, thick long vine in your hands as you lousily tied it around your father’s ankles. Neteyam shouts in victory, trying to tighten the bind. Jake could only stifle a laugh at the scene, trying not to soil the satisfaction that was evident in your smug smile. He dropped to the floor, “Oh no! You got me!”

“Toruk Makto my ass!” You got on top of him, slapping his chest down with your little hands. Jake shouts a ‘hey’ at your language, which you only sheepishly giggled in return. Neteyam parrots from behind, still holding onto his legs.

“We’re Toruk Makto now!”

The memory would have easily put a smile on his face– ease his heart even a little bit, but the severity of the situation pulled him back and immediately, he was back in marine-mode, hands gripping onto the gun tightly. The moment they saw distress among the group with the green gas enveloping where his children were, they made a move.

The dreamwalkers felt a searing burn in their nostrils as the dense gas engulfed the area, the pain shooting up their visions. Your captor had a vice-like grip on you, dragging your body with him as you watched the others scramble in distress. He tugged painfully on your hair, forcing you to hiss and jab your nails into any exposed skin you could claw on. A headache throbbed at the back of your skull like an incessant drumbeat; you needed to think fast. With a sprained ankle, you knew you couldn’t get far.

Before you could even muster enough breath to scream for help, an arrow hit the avatar straight in the nape and dropped to the ground dead. You limped backwards, seeking an escape route, when suddenly someone grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the rough tree bark. You body trembled, hitting whoever it was on their chest in an attempt to break free. But all efforts were futile as they held onto you tightly, shaking you vigorously.

“Sis, it’s me– you’re safe,” His hands traveled around your body to check for any serious wounds. The sound of his voice brought a sense of relief over you; your brother's caring demeanor enough to make you feel at ease and secure. Your face softens, “Are you hurt anywhere?” Neteyam anxiously asked, trying to get a hold of you.

“Ankle,” You exhaled, feeling the sharp pain shoot up again, “I sprained my ankle.”

He looked around, making out a path to safety. When he manages to form a plan inside his mind, he carries you like a princess, arms securely around your waist and under your legs. Neteyam ran face-first into the battlefield, making sharp turns whenever necessary to evade any incoming bullets. With no bows or means of retaliation, you were both defenseless. You could only grab tighter as your heart hammered tightly on your throat.

“Na’vi!” Neteyam stops dead in his tracks, an expression akin to a deer caught in headlights.

“Please, we just want to go home” Neteyam begged, his voice barely higher than a whisper. The light of the eclipse illuminated his features, and he instinctively pulled you closer to him as he took a few steps back. You could feel his exhaustion both physically and emotionally; a weariness that seemed so out of place on such a young soul. Everywhere around you was utter stillness- you couldn’t breathe, the tension in the air heavy and stifling.

“I’m sorry,” And before your brother could grab the dagger tucked to his loincloth, the avatar fired her gun towards you both as Neteyam thrashed in panic, throwing your beaten body to the side as he rolled off somewhere. The dreamwalker quickly towers over you and you could only close your eyes shut, waiting for cruel death. In a blink of an eye, her body drops dead and Lo’ak immediately rushes to your aid.

Only then did you feel the searing pain in your leg, the sensation of a bullet wound as hot blood slowly oozed out. It was nauseating, the smell of iron and the redness of it. Your eyes widened in realization as you clung to your younger brother, “Neteyam! Did you find Neteyam?”

Lo'ak hurriedly hoisted you up and with sheer adrenaline, you limped to the other side, searching for your brother. Your eyes darted to his body, stiffly lying on the grass and breathing shallowly. You couldn't bear to look at the blood that stained his abdomen; it was a sight you wish to never see, ever.

“Oh, Neteyam,” You shakily put pressure on the bullet wound, only for him to violently grab both of your wrists and desperately claw at it. You could only scream aloud as the blood spilled out more and more as he writhed and struggled. “I know, I know, I know, I know– please, please just stay still.” Your words came out as a disgusting croaking slur, tears unable to keep themselves at bay.

“__, I don’t want to die yet.” He cried out as you tried to keep your hold firm, “Father—father had asked me to stay, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stay there and wait. I.. I don’t want to see his face when he realizes I didn’t listen-- that I failed him again. __ save me, please.”

He said hurriedly, breathing heavily every word. Save Neteyam, save Neteyam.

His jaw clenched violently, spit bubbling the corners of his mouth as he grabbed onto you tightly. The noises he let out had tugged on your every heart string, snapping it over and over. He struggled in your arms, pupils blown wide and teary. “Please great mother, not my brother, not like this– Lo’ak help me!” Your head sharply turned to his unmoving figure, eyes darted to you and Neteyam. You cradled him close, not minding the crimson cot coating your own body.

You were unable to think and you had your own wounds that needed to be tended to, but you couldn’t be bothered to put him down– to accept his already fleeting breath would soon be none. You kissed his temple, rocking his body. “I’m here, I’m here Neteyam.”

“I don’t want to die,” his eyes averted to the incoming figure behind you and he drew a harsher inhale. your father had pushed you aside to aid Neteyam, immediately checking for an exit wound. He was met with a loud cry, squirming uncontrollably from Jake’s sharp movements. When he saw blood gushing out the same on the back, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he let out a sob.

Jake put pressure on it nonetheless. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“Sir, I’m sorry,” His words slurred together desperately, reducing to nothing but whimpers. Your lungs deny you of any more air as you watched him struggle— even in the brink of death, he had the need to apologize. Apologize for things that wasn’t even his fault, for things that was beyond his control. You kneeled just behind your father, gaze moving between Neteyam’s body and your bloodied palms. “I’m s-sorry, please don’t be mad.”

How he addressed Jake had only weakened his already beaten heart. “Save your breath, son, please.”

Everything seems to remain still for a minute, then came the shriek of your mother. You stayed there, almost lifeless yourself. You didn’t wanna see; didn’t wanna see how Neteyam’s body is limp under your father’s hold— how his eyes falls crestfallen and void of any emotion. Your siblings watch as Neytiri litters her first born with kisses, how she embraces every skin she can touch closer to her. “Not my son, eywa please.”

Eywa had granted him rest in its worst kind.

–

When he died, the same bullets went through you and it remained situated there, gnawing your insides and pounding it to mush, eating everything it can and rotting your entirety to an ugly void of a shell. It was getting heavier; his body soundly resting above the delicately woven cloth, carried by his mourning family. You could feel your feet sinking down the very soil you stepped on and you visibly faltered every move.

His cold hand gripping tightly around your wrist, his blood drawn between the lines of your palms— your soul was left to relive that night in a loop, scream bellowing until nothing was let out but breathy weeps of what was left of you.

It was bound to happen; death loomed and you dare played with it nonetheless. You should have known better than to let Lo'ak wander, let alone join him.

You stopped walking, changing everyone's solemn looks to a confused one. “Father, I can’t do it.” You whispered.

He remained tight-lipped, staring at you solidly that you could hardly decipher his expression. Jake was never one for emotions; it was as if he was programmed to tuck everything that made him feel under a gun's trigger– it was the soldier in him, finding it easier to be calm with a weapon nearby, but right now he was absolutely defenseless; stripped bare and vulnerable and he hated every moment of it; resented the fact that he failed protecting everyone, not just as clan leader, but as a father too. The latter weighed more than anything else. It dulled him to dysfunction and he could barely breathe– could barely recognize his daughter in front of him.

You took his stare differently, a cold-shoulder. Before Neytiri could approach your figure, you ran; away from the voices and guilt, away from him. Neteyam’s blood burns brightly on your very hands and you’ve swallowed down the blame, forever residing within you.

You buried something so alive and you feared it would never let you rest.

☆ mauve here! i now introduce a new series of mine that i am so excited to work on. (i know i said i'd be inactive, but i couldn't help but finish this one draft) neteyam's dying scene is heavily inspired by the game, the last of us! this feels rushed, but i needed an opening to start the series so rest assured, there would be lengthier pieces after. criticisms are welcome. feel free to point out any mistakes. mauve out >:]

Tags: @aonungsmate ♡

#mauve writes ☆#the exit #jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #tuk x sister!reader #family angst #angst #avatar #avatar the way of water

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muensterfucker · 5 months ago

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Steve had stopped crying in earnest, but a silvery tear slid down his nose as he tried to forget the impossibility of them. Though his cheeks were wet and his eyes glassy, he was slowly finding his footing again. Bucky’s hand snuck beneath the untucked hem of Steve’s shirt, his large palm fitting easily around the curve of Steve’s bare waist, and Steve failed to suppress a shudder. Bucky curled his arm even farther around Steve’s body, then – his fingers slotting easily inside the shallow valleys between his ribs, his nose tucking into the juncture of Steve’s neck and shoulder, the wetness on his face transferring to Steve’s exposed skin – and Steve sniffled again; for a different reason, this time. Steve raised both his hands to rest on Bucky’s cheeks, drawing him away from Steve’s throat so he could get a proper look at him again. His eyes were a crystalline blue, shimmering with tears and reddened with crying, and Steve just had to kiss him. It was something gentle, something slow and almost-chaste. Steve exhaled a soft sigh of relief into the kiss, relief to have this opportunity, to have one more chance, to be able to kiss Bucky again before Steve finally punched his ticket.

+ click for better quality (:

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freyito · 5 months ago

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Hi! You asked for Aventurine requests among others, so I hope that you like this one? (Also, no pressure to accept this request! But thank you in advance for reading it <3) Could I maybe request Aventurine with an FTM!reader who dresses rather femininely? Reader can sometimes get rather insecure due to how people see him (either misgendering him or mocking him for being a trans man who still likes dressing femininely), so Aventurine comforts him and spoils him by getting him all the feminine clothing he likes. Idk, I thought it would be really sweet. I hope that request was coherent in any way. As I said, no pressure to do this if you aren't comfortable with it, but thank you so much in advance if you do! And thank you so much for writing fem readers, there's so little representation for us and it means the world to me <3

✧ a/n: if i had a nickel for everytime someone requested (one of) my comfort character(s) with an FtM reader who dresses femininely who gets a little insecure i'd have two nickels!!!! which isnt a lot but im soo happy it happened twice!!!!

fr tho thank you for this ask ehe.... healing my inner younger adult or sumn (shoutout to one of my exes who was super into femboys and completely killed my fashion sense) also idk where this name came from i just felt it. idk.

✭ pairing: aventurine x ftm reader

🗒 cw: ftm reader, dysphoria, comfort, this was written from the HEART, proofread

✎ wc:2.1k

ꜱᴛʀᴀᴡʙᴇʀʀʏ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛᴄᴀᴋᴇ

When you transitioned, you didn’t kill off your fashion, no, quite the opposite. It had never felt quite right to be called a girl, to be considered a woman. The clothes you wore had nothing to do with it, you were sure. Still, for a little bit after your public transition, you tried to dress more “traditionally masculine”, but it was only when you started wearing dresses and skirts and anything perceived as “feminine” that you felt truly at ease.

It was also around then that you got odd looks, and more mistakes and misgendering. Most of the time it was from strangers, so you chose to ignore it. It had no real effect on you since they were strangers, and their own opinions didn’t matter to you.

In doing this, you gained confidence, not that you didn’t have any before. You were simply presenting yourself how you liked, and you didn’t give a damn about who saw you as what. This confidence is what drew Aventurine’s attention to you, he quite enjoyed your slight flair for the dramatic, how ethereal you looked in certain dresses, and all around… you. He had never really fallen for someone as hard as he fell for you.

He pampers you as is, of course. Anything you want is yours, perhaps even three times over. No time to even say ‘I want’ or ‘I would like’, it’s yours. Especially clothes. He’s a bit of a fashionista himself, after all. You see a pretty dress you like? He’s buying it, and maybe a suit to match. Even a ball gown, something a little too formal for every-day wear? Don’t worry, he’ll find a reason to wear it.

Aventurine finds you pretty handsome any day of the week, even on your worst days, your most dysphoric days, where you want to do nothing but lie down in bed, dressed only in a massive t-shirt and boxers, unable to tame your disheveled looks. Which, those days seem to be becoming more and more frequent.

It had been quite a while since you two started dating, and you yourself knew dating one of the Ten Stonehearts would put some direct attention onto you. He wasn’t necessarily a celebrity, but of course paparazzi fled to him like flies to honey. And with that, you end up in the crossfire.

You do your best to ignore it, even when pictures of you and Aventurine end up on social media, even when the posts shift from referring to you as his ‘partner’, to his ‘girlfriend’, even when the comments referred to you as his girlfriend from the start. You shouldn’t let it get to you, you tell yourself, they’re just strangers is all, and they have no real connection to you. And yet, you can’t help but keep scrolling through those comments.

‘She’s so lucky!!’

‘I wish I was his girlfriend’

‘why can’t i be her :(‘

‘i’d give anything to be his GIRL’

Every little she, every little ‘girl’ gets to you. It cuts like knives, reopening old wounds you had forgotten about. Those words take root in your heart and you withdraw into yourself. Aventurine had been out on a… business trip, and you were left to wallow in your own dysphoric hell by yourself. Simply staring into your closet makes you feel sick, not even the clothes, but knowing that this is what you wore, and that is simply how people will perceive you from then on, his girlfriend. It hurts, dammit.

Despite the sickening pit forming in your stomach, you can't help but continue to scroll through the comments. Very few know of you, given your limited social media presence, even if Aventurine had tagged you in a couple posts of his own and even referred to you as his boyfriend. The few comments that mention you that do refer to you properly do not wash out just how many more had all sunk their fangs into the word ‘she’.

You finally pry your phone away from your eyes, turning it off and putting it face down as you bury your head into the plush pillows beneath you. You want to scream, to cry, but ultimately you are left with silence. Which turns out to be even worse, stuck with your thoughts that take hold and rip any semblance of confidence you had. Those words sink even deeper into your very bones, a reminder that you aren’t in the same leagues as a cis man, that perhaps you never will be. And then, the words ‘not a real boy’ start to rise. And slowly, that voice becomes louder, and louder, and lou–

You are interrupted by the muffled chime of a video call, raising your head and simply staring at your phone for a couple more moments. You knew exactly who was calling you, of course, he was the only one you really video called these days. And now, you didn’t even know if you wanted to pick up the phone. To you, it meant looking at yourself, seeing a girl. Doesn’t matter how little your portrait was in the corner, you’d still be there, all the same.

As if it was instinct, however, you pick up your phone and accept the call. You feel as if you immediately regret this decision, watching as your face pops up half-hidden by the sheets of your unkempt bed, finally minimizing into the corner.

“Hey handsome,” Aventurine starts, flashing you a pretty smile. He was driving, eyes on the road (thankfully), but peering at the phone every now and then. “How’s your night going, hm?”

“Good.” You mumbled, doing your best to sound at the very least okay. Your voice is muffled by the sheets and rather heavy, groggy.

“Awh, did I wake you up? I’m sorry,” He coos, still not looking at his phone, which you thank whichever Aeon you have to for that. “Just missed you is all.”

“It’s okay,” You manage to squeak out, tracing over his features mentally. He himself seemed so tired, despite how hard he played the relaxed character, you could tell that whatever meeting he had just gotten out of didn’t necessarily go all that well. “I missed you, too.”

You can see Aventurine smile, but silence fills the space between you two. The faint rumbling of the car on the road is soothing in a way, not too loud but not too quiet, enough to keep your thoughts from drifting. Perhaps you really are tired, with how easy it feels to fall asleep at the moment. Perhaps you were just tired, and that’s why such words got to you… and yet, as you did your best to surrender to sleep, Aventurine’s voice pulled you right back into reality.

“Have you been crying?” He doesn’t even tiptoe around it. It seems he had finally parked, and he finally got a good look at you.

“Uhm–” You hadn’t even known you were crying, it seems you were so hyper-focused on just how you looked too much of a woman, and how badly you just did not want to see yourself.

“Hey, hey, what happened?” You can’t really lie to Aventurine, he’s pretty damn perceptive and it’s a little scary. Not just that, but he tends to worry about you, considering his luck doesn’t affect you. Seeing as he’s a whole star system away, he has every right to worry.

“It’s fine,” You groan, readjusting in the bed and doing what you could to hide your face while still allowing him to see some of it. You know you can’t get your way out of it, but deflect nonetheless. “Life sucks, is all.”

Aventurine purses his lips and furrows his brows, before clicking his tongue and shaking his head. He lets it go, for now. “Well, whatever it is, I’ll be home in like… three days, okay?” His voice softens from his usual sly tone.

You utter a low effort ‘mhm’, unable to conjure up any other words or sounds. You can see the worry creep into his expression, and somehow, it makes you think of a horrible, wretched question in the face of things.

“Do you see me as a girl?”

He lets out a ‘huh?’ before the question fully processes in his head. “No! Not at all! Why would you think that?” He raises his voice slightly, not panicked but as if in a rush to soothe your mind.

“I dunno. Seems like everyone else sees me as your girlfriend.” You huff, tilting your head.

“Well that’s them. You’re my boyfriend.”

“But–”

“Nuh uh. You’re my boyfriend. You’re a boy. Nothing else. Unless you wanna be my Husband?”

Aventurine’s cheeky tone returned and it caused a blush to bloom across your cheeks. You’re more surprised by the question itself, rightfully so, and it felt like it came out of left field. He chuckles at your reaction, raising his eyebrows, before shaking his head.

“What makes you think that, love?” He continues on if he hadn’t said anything, his voice softening once more.

You still once more, shaking your head. You feel as if you’ve already answered the question– you did– but, there was more than just that. “‘Cause of how I dress… do you even like it? Like... all the dresses and skirts and stuff."

“Of course I do!” He answers so quickly, placing his hand over his chest as if he was offended. “You look stunning! No matter how you dress. Is it annoying you?”

“... No.”

“Then you shouldn’t worry, okay? I love you, you know that, right?”

You nod meagerly, unable to find words. His reassurance helps a lot, but it would still take you a couple days to shake it off. For now, you would keep away from social media– especially those that were dedicated to Aventurine– to keep your head clear.

“C’mon, say it back,” Aventurine coos, “Or else I’ll start to feel a little hurt.”

“Love you too.”

“I’ll settle,” He huffs, but still his voice takes on a gentler tone once more. “Now, I’ll see you soon, okay? And I have a lot of gifts for you.”

WIth that, you two say your goodnights, and he promises you once more that he sees you as a man, regardless of how you dress or how you feel. You felt lighter, for sure, and were quite anxious and excited for Aventurine to come home. And the next days go by painfully slow, your mood dipping and rising equally, and yet, you were able to keep away from the same comments that had tanked your comfort within your body.

When Aventurine comes back home though, his arms are practically full of all sorts of boxes, jewelry boxes, and bags stuffed with Qilpoth knows how many clothes. He had to have someone help him bring his own luggage back to your apartment. He’s practically beaming, the fact that his gifts take up the entire couch was like an achievement for him. He showers you in kisses and praises and ‘I love you’s before he allows you to open his gifts.

He’s brought home almost an entire closet, pretty dresses, some rather formal, and even a ball gown, suits, as well, and a bunch of necklaces, bracelets, and rings. Many are adorned with gemstones, and most of those are aventurine stones. ‘For good luck’, he says, as if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing.

One gift, however, stands out among the rest. It isn’t big and poofy, it doesn’t shine, nor is it considered… formal. It’s a simple sundress, covered in floral designs, the material was light and airy. It’s beautiful as is, quite striking in its simplicity considering Aventurine’s fashion sense.

“It’s starting to get warm, y’know?” He shrugs, as you stare at it, running your thumb along the hem of its sleeves. “Wanted you to have something to wear, something pretty– not that the rest of your clothes aren’t pretty, but…”

As he stumbles over his words, you look at him and pull him into a kiss, one that isn’t quite heated, but rather tender and soft. When you pull away, there are practically stars in his eyes, and it seems you’ve soothed his own mind. Yet, his face is burning up, practically bright red as he looks away and clears his throat.

“Ahem… just wanted to, uh, let you know how pretty you are,” His voice shakes ever so slightly, as if a kiss was more bold than him proposing marriage. “And I wanted you to flaunt it.”

#⁺◟freyito #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #hsr x male reader #honkai star rail x male reader #aventurine x male reader #hsr x ftm reader #honkai star rail x ftm reader #aventurine x ftm reader

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rippersz · 9 months ago

Text

𝙰𝚕𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝙳𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞 + 𝙻𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝙰𝚜 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜 (𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 #2) (Slightly NSFW):

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

OH THE PASSION. THE LUST. THE LOVE. Here’s how you met these two beautiful creatures :3 :

୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧

ʚ♡ɞ Larissa has gone through a lot of dry spells in life. She spent a long stretch of adult life alone when first returning to Nevermore and becoming Principal. She was constantly busy and never had time for anyone else in her bed, much less herself. So anything regarding sex was put on the back burner. It became hard when she thought about it, but after soaking herself in heaps of work, it wasn’t so bad returning to a cold bed.

ʚ♡ɞ Then… you. And Alcina, of course. But first you. You, who started at Nevermore as a faculty member. You were a hit with everyone - especially the Principal. She thought you were funny and intriguing, and often found herself gravitating toward you at important events and staff meetings. Her eyes would always seek you out, and her heart began to pound whenever she thought about you walking into the room. It was hard to come to terms with this ‘crush’ - she hasn’t had a very good track record when it comes to romantic relationships, one night stands, or interests. You, however, melted around Larissa. You became best friends in no time. The dynamic duo of Nevermore. Wherever she was, you were usually close behind if you weren’t busy with classes or lesson planning.

ʚ♡ɞ And soon enough! You kissed. One warm night in her office, with you leaning against the couch, your bare feet in her lap. There was a glass of wine beside her kicked off heels and a glass of easy champagne in your hand. You were never a heavy drinker - and you always wanted to keep your wits around Larissa. But she was so… spectacular. She made you laugh until you cried, snarking about this person or another, and her hand was so warm on your calf. Those polished fingernails of hers drew random shapes along your skin, and you couldn’t help but fall into a state of utter happiness. Pure joy. You were so content you could’ve fallen asleep. But then the night was ending and she was shifting to get up and you leaned forward to sit up and your faces were suddenly so close and neither of you could pass up the moment. Not at all. Two seconds later, you were sharing a slow hesitant kiss. It was a soft press, and then a breath, and then another soft press. It was easy to fall into it, but she slipped a hand onto your shoulder and gently pulled away. A small talk ensued about your jobs - and you said you were already looking for a place in Jericho. Working at Nevermore was lovely, but you needed a bit more independence. She said to let her know when you were ready to go and kissed your cheek chastely before letting you go, blushing madly as you went.

ʚ♡ɞ So you began dating. It was beautiful. Slow and steady and not at all boring. Larissa herself was so fascinating that even a night in together, with no other plans, was a good enough date for you. There were picnics, restaurants, nights at her office, walks around Jericho in the light rain, even a vacation to Paris once over the summer.

ʚ♡ɞ It was amazing! Perfection.

ʚ♡ɞ Until you walked into a bar one evening, took a seat at a booth, and heard a deep rich voice break the comfortable conversation. It was angry and loud. Distinctly feminine but also a bit scary. You instantly made eye contact with Larissa, who looked rather (appropriately) startled.

ʚ♡ɞ “I don’t understand how you ever passed Kindergarten! Did you lose your ability to read in the huge clown pockets of your ridiculous suit pants? It clearly says ‘served chilled.’” And hard hitting heels spiked against the wooden floor. “No wonder this hole has such a poor rating! You can’t understand a wine label! Thank god I’m opening a business here. You’ll be out within the month. I suggest you start packing. Goodbye!”

ʚ♡ɞ And from around the corner came a woman even taller than Larissa. You saw her first and your eyes flew so wide, your lover had to turn right around in her spot and go “What’s wrong??” before the words died instantly on her lips.

ʚ♡ɞ There was a raven-haired beauty, sleek and curvy, that came stalking around from the back office. Her lips? Deep red. Her eyes? Hidden behind sunglasses. She didn’t seem to care if it was nighttime. Her attitude radiated arrogance and strength. She was obviously pissed, and obviously pre-occupied, but something stopped her. You and Larissa, probably. But you didn’t understand how she saw you - she was looking away! Apparently that didn’t matter, as a second later she stopped - and her head whipped around to face you two.

ʚ♡ɞ Instantly, you sank back into the booth. Larissa looked at you with wide eyes. You looked at her with wide eyes. It would have been comical if you weren’t so nervous. She definitely saw you. And she looked expensive. Opening a business? Out within the month? Who the fuck is she?

“Excuse me.”

And like one person, you and Larissa turned to look up. She was, somehow, taller than your lover. Larissa stood at a beautiful 6’3”, but the stranger stood at… 6’9” probably. She looked nearly inhuman. Pale, striking, and her nails were so… sharp.

“I couldn’t help but notice you’re the only ones occupying this… establishment,” she spoke so properly, drawing out some of her vowels with a drawl. You swallowed. Larissa stared. “I must be honest, ladies. It’s really not worth your time. Why don’t I show you a better spot? I have a feeling you’ll enjoy it.”

You shared a confused, worried glance with your lover. The woman’s smile was sharp.

“I um- Larissa? Thoughts?”

Your lover blinked and quickly gave you a polite smile.

“I think it would be rude if we passed it up… what do you think, love?”

“Uh-”

“How about this,” the woman interrupted and placed her palms on the table, and her sunglasses slid down the bridge of her nose. Suddenly, you were both pierced straight through by sharp golden eyes. Definitely not human. You and Larissa shared a look. “To apologize for my… earlier outburst… I’ll treat you both to a brilliant dinner. I insist.”

ʚ♡ɞ And so you went out together. She said she’d send you back to pick up your car later and then you all packed into the back of a limo. Clearly, she had money. You clasped Larissa’s hand. And then the woman went soft with charm. She took off her glasses, shook your hands, and introduced herself as Alcina Dimitrescu. Instantly, you knew the name. Dimitrescu Winery. The vineyard. And this was the Queen Bee herself.

ʚ♡ɞ It was riveting eating with Alcina. She got the best service, the best food, and the rich restaurant you went to some miles outside of Jericho seemed to welcome her with open arms. You talked about your job, Alcina mentioned her new business opening in Jericho, and Larissa kept herself quiet about her job. She was always weary. Thank goodness that changed as soon as Alcina gave her a once over and engaged her in the most intriguing conversation. She wanted her to be comfortable. Larissa squeezed your hand under the table when Alcina asked about her job, and you squeezed it back. When Larissa finally spoke about Nevermore, Alcina lit up.

“It seems like a marvelous place. I know I would have loved going there when I was young.”

ʚ♡ɞ You talked politics, dinner, jobs, men, and women. Alcina could obviously tell you were involved - and you were so used to people mentioning it somehow that it was weird how she didn’t comment on it. Until she mentioned an ex-wife, and you squeezed Larissa so hard she had to stop herself from bursting out laughing.

ʚ♡ɞ Alcina made you both blush. She was so engaging, so haughty, and clearly flawed. But you and Larissa looked at her with sparkling eyes. It was a marvelous evening. You exchanged numbers.

ʚ♡ɞ And then there was another meet up. And another. And soon enough, you were three best friends. Three best friends with a shit ton of tension. By the time you and Larissa spoke about your mutual interest, you knew a lot about Alcina. You trusted her with everything. On one of her less busy days, she brought Larissa lunch because she forgot hers. And one evening when you were working late, she showed up with a cup of hot chocolate and coaxed you into going home. She was very sweet on you both.

ʚ♡ɞ Eventually, you had the talk. It was in Larissa’s quarters. Alcina had invited you over to her very luxurious apartment many times, but on that evening, you were lounging in Larissa’s living room. Heels all kicked off, Alcina’s wine on the table, and you came up with the half tipsy idea to play spin the bottle. It was silly, made them laugh, but you put the emptied bottle on its side and spun and soon enough you were kissing Larissa. It was a gentle, slow kiss. Then she spun and oh… oh. Of course. You’d both have to kiss Alcina at some point. And something in her eyes glinted with sadistic pleasure. Larissa was a little nervous, but she threw caution to the wind and kissed Alcina soundly on the lips. You were buzzing with anticipation and nervousness—which quickly slipped into desire when Alcina let out a filthy groan and kissed Larissa back. She was quickly overpowering, shuffling closer, but your lover pulled back with a raspy gasp - And Alcina leaned over the table, took the bottle, and pointed it toward you. No spin necessary apparently as she moved across like a lioness, grasped your chin in one hand, and pulled you into a deep kiss. Again, she groaned. Larissa was blushing all the way to her toes. You were nearly fitful with pleasure. And when she sat back, satisfied with her smudged lipstick, looking bizarrely outrageously handsome, you and Larissa shared a look. But Alcina spoke first.

“Forgive my… overzealous nature. I’m sure it’s no surprise. I have just been… eager.”

“For how long?” You asked her.

The smile she gave you was sheepish.

“Since the first time we shared dinner together…”

ʚ♡ɞ And of course that led to your amazing power throuple.

ʚ♡ɞ It’s the best relationship you’ve ever been in. They’re mature women, but also incredibly childish at times. Alcina especially. Larissa has a better handle of her emotions and yours. She just knows how to be a good partner - probably because she’s spent a lot of time alone, wondering about all the ways she’d treat her lover.

Alcina, however… well she has her moments.

They’re usually in the bedroom.

ʚ♡ɞ Her nature is incredibly domineering and on one of your official dates together, she explained herself.

“I don’t think either of you will be surprised, but honesty is of course the best policy,” she cleared her throat. “So I should probably tell you both that I’m a dragon.”

Her bluntness had you laughing, but she was not joking around. Larissa could only gape.

“A dragon? That’s your gene pool?”

“Indeed, draga.”

ʚ♡ɞ So it did actually explain a lot. Her possessiveness, her strength—she doesn’t know how to be any way else. And her lust for blood, too… it’s something you try not to talk about in depth. She tells you her practices are safe and consensual, and she’s not interested in fucking anyone who isn’t you or Larissa. The crassness has Larissa blushing, but it’s endearing. And you both trust her.

HOWEVER.

The Bedroom is a different story.

ʚ♡ɞ There, the differences in your personalities stand out a lot.

ʚ♡ɞ There, you are the small quivering submissive doll that Alcina loves to play with and the sweet little darling that Larissa loves to tease. It’s rather unfair, but when you get both of their hands on you, you can’t complain.

ʚ♡ɞ BDSM is a big part of your relationship, as I’ve mentioned in the past. It’s something that means a lot to all three of you, and the intricacies are something you learn with passion; so titles (for example) is a thing you indulge in often.

ʚ♡ɞ Alcina is Mommy. It’s just how it is. And Larissa is Miss. Or Mommy. Or Mistress. It really depends on how far gone you are. If you’re deep in sub-space and shy, she’s Mommy. If you’re feeling a bit brat-ish and frustrated, it’s Mistress. Alcina’s title also changes sometimes, but it’s usually Mommy. Something about it gives her a power trip - which she lives on of course. And it’s… whew. It’s WHEW.

୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧

I’ll probably do an NSFW Alphabet for both characters. What do you all think? Let me know ;)) Thank you for the support! - Rip x

୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧୨˚୧

TAGS!: @oddball21 @kaymariesworld @bloommushroom @readingtheentrails @thegoddamnfeels @theonefairygodmother @theflashesoflove @sweetderacine @opalthefrog @gwensfreak @shyladyfan @erablaise-blog @bellatrixsbrat @sunnyanon @emilynissangtr @lex13cm @sugipla @hasthebaconinhispants @deongocrazy @nocteangelus15 @eveymay @one-pining-queer @azu-zu @niceminipotato @hopelessly-sapphic @barbarasstar @enchantressb @syrenacrainn @im-a-carnivorous-plant @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @ladylarissaweems @scarlettssub @ladysdraga @willisnotmental @gela123 @h-doodles @zillahofviolets-bayolet @weemssapphic @the-bearr @amateurwritescm @dovesintherain

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dmitriene · 1 year ago

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ʀᴇꜱɪʟɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

❝ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 ❞ 𝘥𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘪 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘹 𝘮𝘰𝘮 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳.

❝ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 ❞ 𝘓𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺.

❝ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ❞ 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯.

❝𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦❞ 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘴𝘰 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘺, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵!

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, filling the room with a soft glow, and you stirred in your sleep, letting the warmth of the sheets envelop you, but something was missing.

Hesitantly, you sat up, blinking away the remnants of your dreams and focusing on the emptiness next to you — Leon was not there.

Yawning, you swung your legs off the bed and walked down the familiar, dimly lit hallways of your home, the sounds of cartoons quietly coming from the living room as curiosity drew you closer.

As you walked into the room, your heart instantly filled with warmth at the sight before you — there, sitting on the couch, was Leon, his strong arms wrapped around your newborn daughter.

She opened her eyes wide and was mesmerized by the colorful images on the television, her tiny fingers twitching in fascination.

Leon, dressed in a soft black shirt and a pair of comfortable sweatpants, looked so casual and effortlessly affectionate as he held her.

He fed her with a small spoon, carefully guiding it into her mouth, to which the baby's mouth obediently opened, and she swallowed every bite without fuss.

You couldn't help but smile intuitively, your heart filling with pride and love as you watched this enchanting scene.

The love in Leon's eyes as he looked at your child was undeniable, and your heart filled with gratitude for having such a caring and devoted husband.

You quietly walked towards the two of them and Leon immediately looked up, his eyes meeting yours and a warm, adoring smile spreading across his face.

He tilted his head, allowing you to kiss the top of his head, your lips brushing his dark hair.

— «You're up early» he whispered in a low voice so as not to disturb the baby, as he kissed her tiny forehead softly before turning his attention back to you.

You responded with a contented sigh, wrapping your arms around Leon's neck from behind — «I couldn't sleep without you next to me»

Leon laughed quietly — «Sorry for waking you, i just thought i'd give you a little break, let you catch up on some rest»

You kissed his cheek and played with his light stubble, enjoying the warmth of his skin on your lips — «You're an amazing father, you know that?»

A shy smirk tugged at the corners of Leon's lips, for as long as you remember him he had always been a man of action and never shied away from danger, but the prospect of fatherhood brought with it a different kind of uncertainty.

The responsibility was enormous, and he worried daily that he might not be good enough.

You nuzzled his cheek, whispering the words he desperately needed to hear — «You've been there every step of the way, from the moment we found out we were expecting, you've read every parenting book, you've painted the nursery, and you've put together the crib a thousand times, you're an incredible father»

Leon's eyes sparkled with excitement as he turned to face you, holding your baby carefully in his arms — «I love you» he whispered simply, placing a gentle kiss on your lips, pouring his gratitude into his actions.

As you looked at your daughter, her tiny fingers wrapped around Leon's, you felt a deep sense of satisfaction that this was your family, and it was wonderful.

Previously, a few weeks before your beautiful daughter was born, Leon had taken an extended leave from his demanding job — he was determined to dedicate every minute to being the best father he could be, and when your daughter was born, he stepped into that role with unwavering devotion.

His days were filled with changing diapers, feeding and rocking her crib at night to lull her to sleep, there were moments of frustration and sleepless nights, but Leon took it all calmly and stoically, his love for the child was unshakable.

Slowly, the days turned into weeks and you watched in awe at Leon's transformation — he was the one who calmed your daughter's cries and made her giggle with pleasure, he was the one who mastered the art of swaddling and could sing lullabies that instantly calmed her down.

You fell in love with him all over again as you witnessed the depth of his love for his family — he was your partner in every way, sharing with you the joys and challenges of parenthood.

As you stood together and looked at your baby, mesmerized by the colorful images on TV, you knew this was a moment worth cherishing, an unspoken understanding that your family was everything you could ever want.

Leon continued to feed the baby, his warm smile never fading as he whispered words of praise and encouragement to her, and you couldn't help but melt at the sight of his unwavering devotion, your heart filled with love for both of them over and over again.

After a few more spoons, the baby finished her breakfast, and Leon gently wiped her mouth with a soft cloth and held her close to him, to which she yawned and her tiny hands reached for his shirt.

With a gentle smile, he began rocking her back and forth, calming her into a state of relaxation.

You leaned over and whispered — «You're a natural, Leon, she adores you»

Leon turned and looked at you, a mixture of pride and love on his face — «I can't believe how lucky i am» he murmured — «I was scared, you know, about being a father, i didn't think i could do it»

You hugged him from behind tighter, resting your head on his shoulder — «You've done more than i could have ever hoped for, you're an incredible father, and you've brought so much happiness into our lives»

All of this time, Leon's gaze never left your daughter — «I love her so much» he said, his voice full of emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, and you were filled with love and gratitude for him, knowing that you had chosen the right partner to embark on the journey of parenthood, and at that moment you were very happy.

Hugging him, your daughter settled between you as you shared another family moment of deep warmth and love — your little one was surrounded by the unwavering love of her parents, and in her innocent eyes she saw nothing but the purest form of love.

While the TV continued to show cartoons, the room was filled with Leon's quiet lullabies, and an atmosphere of absolute love and contentment reigned.

Your heart was full, and in this simple, everyday moment, you knew that you couldn’t dream of anything more.

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