#hes dancing with it ehehehe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itneverendshere · 7 months ago

Note

addicted to your rafe!! you mentioned in the bartender!reader au that rafe shared his life story after their first time together and was just wondering if youd ever write about it? would love to read about rafe spilling all (in more ways than one hehe) and reader's reaction but only if its something youre interested in writing!!

i was planning on making the smut really cute BUT...it got a little out of hand bc they're both horny so....enjoy!!! but there's fluff i promise. and he spills everything (eheheh)🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️😌�� thank you for the request 🩵🫂

i'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands - r.c (+18)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: SMUT!!!!; a little angst by the end and lots of fluff.

It's past midnight, and you’re sprawled out on your bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You’re still in your ratty tank top and sleep shorts, some throwaway show mumbling in the background.

The night’s quiet, a little too quiet, so when you hear a low thump at the window, you nearly jump out of your skin.

But you know that sound.

That’s Rafe.

You glance over just as his messy dark blond head pops up outside the window, blue eyes gleaming mischievously. Your heart does this stupid thing, and you’re grinning before you even realize it. You slide the window up quickly, shushing him though you know he’s careful.

"Hi,” You whisper, leaning into him the second he’s in, his broad shoulders blotting out the rest of the room.

“Miss me?” he murmurs back, lips quirking as he brushes a hand through your hair.

“Maybe a little,” You tease, tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Rafe’s standing there in just a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt that clings to every hard line of muscle.

God, it should be illegal for him to look this good.

His hair is still damp at the tips, like he just came from a shower. He leans down and kisses you, his fingers moving to the bare skin at your waist. You’ve been doing this dance for two months now. All hot make-outs that never really go anywhere. Mostly because you’re the one always getting called away for shifts, for family, for whatever comes up.

But right now, right here? There’s no work, no responsibilities. It’s just you and him. And the way he’s looking at you right now, all hooded eyes and smirking lips, it’s driving you crazy.

“Why’d you sneak in, hmm?” You murmur against his lips, playing with the hem of his shirt. He pulls back, just enough to look down at you, a lazy smile on his face.

“Wanted to see you,” he breathes, eyes tracing over me like you’re something to devour. “Couldn’t wait.”

You practically pounce on him, shoving him back until he’s pinned against the wall by the window, his eyes widening for a split second before his hands are holding your hips, steadying you as you sit on his lap. You love it when he manspreads.

It’s so unlike you it’s almost funny, but at this point you’re desperate to feel him. You press yourself up against him, grinding slowly, and you feel the exact moment he realizes just how serious you are right now.

“Fuck, baby—” he groans as his grip tightens, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. But you don’t want him to hold back.

“I’m done waiting,” You breathe, pushing his shirt up and over his head in one quick motion. “Rafe—I’m losing my mind here.” His shirt hits the floor, and you let yourself really look at him.

All muscle, golden tan skin, the little dip between his abs you’ve fantasized about running your tongue along. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times, but right now?

He’s a masterpiece.

“I’m so horny it hurts, okay?” You admit in a whisper, almost like you can’t help it. His lips twitch as he leans in, his breath hot against your neck.

You feel your cheeks heat up. It’s not like you’re shy around him anymore, not really, but this feels different. You’re usually more reserved, the one who lets him make the moves, but tonight...you can’t help yourself.

“Sorry baby,” he murmurs as he rolls his hips up, and fuck, you can feel how hard he is already, straining against his jeans, “Want me to fix it for you?”

You know what he’s asking. You’ve had this conversation before—kind of.

The two of you have been skirting around it for weeks now, with heavy petting and breathless goodnights. You want more. You hook your fingers into his belt loops, tugging at him, and he hisses, biting back a curse.

“Bed” he grunts, half-laughing, half-panting as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, carrying you across the room.

You’re already tearing at his belt by the time you hit the bed, and he lets out this breathless, desperate sound, half-plea, half-growl that shoots straight through you.

“Need you,” You gasp, yanking the belt free, popping the button on his jeans. He’s still standing, hovering over you as you sit on the bed, and you look up at him, chest heaving, hair messy, eyes wild.

“Yeah?” he breathes, and there’s this edge to his voice. You smirk, tugging his zipper down slowly, deliberately, keeping your eyes on his as you push his jeans down his hips.

“Yeah,” You know you have him. He’s yours, and he’s done waiting, too.

Once his jeans hit the floor, he’s on you, all heat and muscle. Rafe’s hands grip your wrists, pinning them above your head as he looks down at you, breathing hard.

“I was trying to make it special,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost gravelly. “Our first time.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, he’s so stupidly and unexpectedly endearing sometimes it makes you fall even more.

“This not special enough for you?” You tease, arching your back and lifting your hips, feeling the slickness pooling between your thighs. “I don’t do it for you?”

“Oh, you do it for me, baby. Believe me,” His voice drops an octave, “’M trying to be a gentleman.”

“I don’t want a gentleman,” You quip, your tone playful, “I just want you.”

He wants to give in, but you know he also wants to take his time. “You sure about this?”

“Rafe. My shorts are stuck to my skin.”

He breathes in sharply, head dropping to your shoulder, as he murmurs, “You’re not wearing any panties?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. What’s it to you?” You tease, biting your lip, but you know you’re being a little reckless, teasing him like this.

He’s gonna get you good.

Rafe lifts his head, that infuriatingly handsome smirk still plastered on his face.

“So you are, huh?” His voice is low, almost predatory. “You trying to drive me crazy?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool even though it physically hurts not to touch him the way you want to right now. “What if I am?”

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. You arch against him, your breath hitching when he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear and sucks gently.

Your top hits the floor a second later. He’s kissing you again, his hands cupping you through your bra.

“Please,” you breathe, not even sure what you are asking for.

More, closer, something to stop the aching between your thighs. He seems to understand, though. He always does.

He unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, taking you in inch by inch, “My pretty girl,” You feel a blush creep up your cheeks, but before you can think about it, he dips his head and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he hums against your skin, the vibration making you delirious. His hand slids down to your shorts, pulling them with an easiness that makes your head spin. Then they are gone, too, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes raking over your body with a look that makes you squirm.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, almost to himself. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Rafe,” you whisper, reaching for him. When he finally slips his fingers into your ruined panties, you are already trembling, whimpering, rocking against his hand.

“Shh,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He’s touching you, his fingers finding your slick clit and stroking gently. You’re so wet his flingers glid right on, your hips bucking up instinctively as his fingers move across your folds, teasingly slow.

Rafe smirks, clearly enjoying how wrecked you already are even though you hardly started.

"Easy, baby,” his lips brush against your jawline. “We got all night.”

You’re past patience.

You grab his wrist, guiding his hand exactly where you want it.

“Rafe,” you groan, your voice breaking a little, “I need more. Don’t piss me off.”

He chuckles, “So needy tonight,” he teases, but his voice is tight, he’s losing it too. His fingers dip lower, stroking where you need him most, and you nearly lose it right there.

He lingers there for a moment, just barely grazing your needy folds, before pressing a finger against your entrance. Slowly, he slides it in, and the sensation makes you moan—a big, delicious stretch as his finger sinks deep inside you. He curls it just the way you need him to, stroking your inner walls, already knowing your body better than his own.

He’s taking his time, not rushing into it, drawing it out. You tighten around him, embarrassingly horny, and he groans as he adds another finger, filling you more, the stretch making your legs tremble.

Oh, he's gonna ruin you for anyone else.

“Fuck,” you whimper, head falling back against the pillow as he starts to pump his fingers in and out. The way his fingers stretch you, the wet sounds of him working you open makes you want to go at it all night, even if you have work in the morning.

“Like that, baby?” His free hand gripps your thigh, easily keeping you spread wide for him. He’s so strong it makes you want to suck him whole.

You nod frantically, too far gone for words, only able to moan as he quickens the pace, thrusting his fingers in harder. Your walls flutter around him, tightening with every stroke, and you know you’re getting close—humiliatingly quick, but it’s been a while.

A very, very, very, good while.

His thumb circles your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out, your body arching off the bed.

“Oh God—please,” you gasp, fingers clutching at his big buffy arm, desperate for more. He smirks against your skin, enjoying the way you’re panting beneath him.

He’s got you in the palm of his hand, and he knows it.

His lips brush against your neck, teasingly slow, while his fingers move with purpose, hitting all the right spots, half of them you didn't know you had until now. Your breath is coming in ragged bursts as your body answers to his, feeling the heat coiling tight in your belly, practically shaking with anticipation. You know it's gonna be a good one.

He presses his forehead against yours, his breath uneven, eyes locked on you as if he’s watching every bit of pleasure cross your face.

You realize something—something that should’ve been obvious, but it never really clicked until now. It’s the way he looks at you, refusing to break away from yours that sends you into another orbit.

The eye contact—it’s doing something to you.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice just as wrecked, “Let me feel you.”

There’s no escaping him, no hiding from his gaze, the way he watches every twitch of your body, flutter of your lashes, every quiver of your lips. He’s drinking in your pleasure like he’s addicted to it.

You’re so close it’s dizzying, you can barely catch your breath.

His forehead is still pressed to yours, nose brushing against yours, his lips so close but not touching—not yet. He wants you to see him. To know it’s him making you feel this way.

He leans in, lips caressing your ear, then.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, “Can feel you’re almost there. You’re so tight around my fingers—fuck, you’re close, aren’t you?” You can only nod, your breath hitching as his thumb circles your clit with just the right pressure, your hips grinding up into his hand instinctively. every word out of his mouth pushes you closer. “Look at you,” he coaxes, his voice like velvet, “So perfect.”

His fingers twist inside you, hitting that sweet spot, and your whole body tenses. The pleasure builds into a burning coil deep in your tummy, tightening with every movement. You can’t think, can’t breathe, and all you can do is feel—feel him, feel the way he’s working you. The way he’s talking you through it.

“Just like that,” he whispers, “You’re doing so good, baby. Let me feel it.”

His thumb presses harder against you, and your whole body jerks up, like a woman possessed. You cry out, hips bucking uncontrollably like an animal as your orgasm hits you perfectly. Rafe’s fingers never stop, drawing it out, his other hand still gripping your thighs open.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come.” Your body trembles beneath him, the pleasure still vibrating through you, and he’s right there, “Ride it out, baby,” he breathes, his lips kissing your temple, his voice full of pride. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”

You can’t do anything but cling to him as you shudder, once he finally slows his fingers, easing you down gently, pulling them out. You feel the emptiness like a loss, noticing the shit-eating grin on his face as he glances down at his hand, fingers still slick from you, and then slowly brings them to his mouth.

He holds your gaze, never breaking eye contact as he slips his fingers between his lips, tasting you. It’s slow and the way his eyes darken while his tongue sweeps over his fingers makes you whine.

"God, baby," he murmurs around his fingers, as he pulls them from his mouth with a soft pop, licking his lips. “You taste so fucking good.”

You’re breathless, watching him like you’re in a trance, your heart pounding in your chest. The sight of him tasting you like that, makes your legs open again.

He grins, noticing how wrecked you look. “Didn’t think I could want you more,”

You’re still so turned on that you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together instinctively. His eyes flicker down, catching the movement, and his grin only widens as he crawls back up your body, settling between your legs, “Don’t tease.”

"Don’t worry, baby," his lips skim against yours, “Not teasing anymore.”

You’ll never be able to have sex the same way again, not without looking, not without seeing him.

You don’t know where you get the strength to do it. But you do it anyways. As soon as Rafe settles back, you push him onto his back, taking advantage of his surprised expression, and climb on top, straddling his waist, your hands braced against his chest. You can feel the hard planes of his abs beneath your fingers, and the heat of him pressed against your pussy makes your mouth water. You can feel it building inside you, the need to take him, to ride him until there’s nothing left.

His hands settle on your ass, firm, but not controlling, giving you full reign to take what you want. His eyes are on yours, half-lidded and a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Go on, baby,” he drawls, his voice like honey, “Show me what you can do.”

You don’t even remember pulling his boxers down.

You let yourself brush against the hard length of him, and the sensation alone makes you bite your lip to hold back a moan. His cock is thick, long and hot beneath you, and you grind against him slowly, dragging your wetness along his length, teasing the both of you. You’re rocking back and forth against his tip, dragging him in between your soaked folds and pulling huffs and puffs from his throat as he only grows more impatient by the second.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans, his hips jerking up involuntarily, your clit rubbing against his pubic hair with every movement, the friction doing it for you. His abs tense beneath you, flexing with each of your movements, and the sight of it—of him completely at your mercy—only makes you wetter.

You lean forward, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the way his muscles move under your touch.

“You like that?” you murmur, your voice breathy, teasing, as you grind harder against him. “Like watching me ride you?”

Rafe’s head falls back against the pillow, all the way back, his jaw clenched, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter, lifting his hips to try and shift his cock towards your entrance.

You lean in, your lips dragging against the side of his neck. He shivers under your touch, and the reaction makes you grin. You start off slow, pressing gentle kisses, your lips trailing from his jaw down to the spot where his pulse is beating just a little faster, teasing him with your breath.

“Right here?” you whisper, barely grazing his skin.

You can feel his body tense as you speak, a low sound escaping his throat. You roll your hips again, this time letting the tip of his cock catch at your entrance. You’re so wet that he slides in just an inch, and the stretch is enough to make you gasp, your nails digging into his chest. His eyes fly open, and you can see the tension in his body, every muscle tight as he holds himself back from pouding into you, waiting for you to take him fully.

You press your mouth to his neck and start sucking, enjoying the taste of him under your lips.

His grip on is borderline bruising and you love it when another low moan slips out as you work your mouth against him. You make sure to take your time, alternating between sucking and nipping lightly with your teeth, just enough to make him shudder beneath you.

“Shit,” he breathes, his voice strained as you keep going, making sure to leave your mark. With a deep breath, you sink dow, slowly feeling every inch of him stretch you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming—he’s big, almost too big, and it feels so fucking good you almost drool. By the time you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, your thighs are shaking, and you can feel the heat pooling in your belly all over again.

You suck harder, enjoying the multitasking, applying enough pressure enough to leave a dark bruise that he won’t be able to hide. His fingers dig into your waist, but he doesn’t pull you away—instead, he’s holding you there, wanting to feel every second of it.

“Now everyone’s gonna know you’re mine," You manage to breath out, moaning as you grip his chest for support, spit slicked lips parting as you gasp some more, "You feel so good."

His eyes are hooded as he looks down at you, lips parted, breathing uneven. “Yeah?” he rasps, his gaze flicking to your lips before he grins, a little breathless. “Didn’t think you had it in you, baby.”

His hands slide up your waist, his fingers splayed across your ribs, guiding you as you start to move. You start to ride him, slow at first, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. The friction, combined with the way his cock fills you, hits every nerve just right. Maybe if it was someone else you’d be embarrassed to be panting like a bitch in heat, but it’s Rafe and you never felt so comfortable during sex before.

Every time you lift your hips and drop back down, you take him deeper, as you work yourself on top of him. His hands slide up to your tits, squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

You pick up the pace, bouncing on him harder now, grinding down with each thrust, chasing that high. Rafe’s eyes are glued to you, watching every move you make, his lips parted, his chest heaving with each stolen breath.

“Fuck,” you pant, barely able to catch your breath as you ride him faster, “I want you so deep, so bad.”

He lets out a rough, desperate groan, his hips bucking up to meet yours, his cock hitting even deeper inside you.

“I’m right here, baby,” he grits out, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back, “Take what you need. I’m all yours.”

His hands are on you, gripping your ass with a desperation that makes you mewl out. His fingers dig in, rough and possessive, and the way he’s groping you, like he can’t get enough, makes you want to never stop. Each time you move, his hands flex, squeezing and pulling you down onto his cock, it has you practically whining with every bounce.

“You’re driving me crazy. Just look at you, taking me so good.”

His grip tightens as you roll your hips, pushing your ass back against his hands, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. You’re completely lost in the rhythm now, grinding down on him like you’re in heat, the friction of his cock inside you and the way his pubic hairs rub against your swollen clit making you lightheaded.

And then, out of nowhere, his hand comes down hard.

The sting of his palm smacking your cheek sends a shock through your body, and you gasp—half surprise, half pleasure. It’s rough, but fuck, it feels divine. Your head snaps forward, and you moan, the sound coming out needy.

“You like that, huh?” Rafe growls, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you react. His voice is thick with satisfaction, knowing exactly what he just did to you. “Being spanked?”

You bite your lip and nod, too far gone to be shy. "Yes," you pant, your voice shaky with need. "Do it again."

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand comes down again, harder this time, it makes your skin burn and clench around him. The pleasure spikes, white-hot, and you moan louder, your body arching into his.

"Fuck, you're so sexy like this," He groans, watching you with hooded eyes, clearly loving how much you’re enjoying it.

You practically whimper, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiraling. You’re riding him like you’re losing your mind, your thighs burning. The way his hand soothes your skin, kneading the tender area where he just spanked you, makes you want to do this every single day for the rest of your life.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as he bucks his hips, meeting your movements with his own, driving deeper inside you. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

“You feel so good,” you hiss as you rock your hips faster. His tip hits that perfect spot deep inside you, again and again.

His eyes flick between your face and where you’re connected, and you can tell he’s close too. His grip tightens on you, nails digging into your skin like he’s afraid to let go.

“You’re killing me, baby,” he rasps, voice hoarse, “Fuck, you’re so good. You’re gonna make me come.”

Feeling you wrapped around him like that—so fucking tight, so warm—he can’t fucking stand it. Every time you slide back down, taking him all the way like you're made for it, he feels his mind slipping. It's like he's losing control, just hanging on for dear life, and every little throb around him pulls him closer to his orgasm, it makes him feel dangerously close to delirium.

He uses one of his hands to grip and knead at the fat of your hip. You let out a high-pitched squeal and clench around him.

"Baby," you cry out, pretty tears collecting on your lash line.

He pinches your chin lightly, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your skin, “You have to be quiet, pretty,” you glance up at your boyfriend, “The walls are thin, and you can’t—”

You interrupt him by leaning down and kissing him sloppily. You swirl your tongue around his, feeling the way his cock throbs inside you as he grinds up into you, hitting that spot every single time.

The sloppy kiss you planted on him shuts him up, but only for a second. His lips slide against yours, his tongue swirling in that messy, desperate way that makes your head spin. He groans into your mouth, rough and low, like he’s losing the control he’s trying to hold onto. His hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, holding you in place as you ride him faster, bouncing harder on his cock.

“Look at you,” he grits, pulling back just enough to watch the way your face twists in pleasure.

The way you clench down on him makes him groan, his grip on your neck tightening just a bit as his other hand lands another sharp slap on your ass.

“You like when I fuck you like this, huh?”

You whine against his lips, your body trembling as he thrusts up harder, meeting each of your desperate bounces. You can feel the pressure building inside you, ready to snap.

His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, quick circles that make you drop your head forward, laying on your body on top of his. You can’t stop the way you grind down harder on him, chasing that final push.

“Fuck, baby,” you gasp, barely able to push the words out. “I’m gonna—”

And then you’re gone, falling into that mind-numbing pleasure as you come hard around him, your whole body shaking, thighs tightening around his as your orgasm crashes over you. You’re clenching around his cock, the feeling making him curse under his breath, his hips bucking up into you as he chases his release.

He rams up into you, full force, his breath coming out in harsh, irregular pants. “I’m right there,” he groans, “Gonna fill you up, you want that?”

You can barely nod, still lost in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but that’s all he needs. With one final, deep thrust, he comes hard inside you, groaning your name as he spills into you. His hands grip you tight, holding you down on his length as he empties himself into you, his whole-body twitching with the intensity of his release

His hands roam lazily over your back, the touch slow, like he doesn’t want it to end. He’s still inside you, softening, but neither of you make a move to separate.

His lips press a few lazy kisses against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

You smile weakly, too blissed out to respond, and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. After a few minutes, you reluctantly lift yourself off him, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the loss of connection. Rafe lets out a content sigh, his hands still trailing down your sides as you move.

You flop down next to him, breath still shallow, your head resting on his chest. He immediately pulls you close, his arm wrapping around you, holding you tight.His hand stops moving, resting on your back, and you feel his chest rise as he takes a deep breath.

"My mom left when I was seven," he says, voice oddly quiet, almost hesitant, like he’s not sure where to start. It almost feels like he’s talking to himself more than to you. He’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, one arm slung across his stomach, the other still lightly resting on your waist.

You lift your head, looking up at him, but you stay quiet, giving him space to talk.

“She just… up and left. Told me she was going to visit some family and never came back.” He lets out a short, bitter laugh, his chest rising and falling against you. “I used to sit at the window for weeks, thinking maybe I’d see her pull up one day. But she didn’t. She never did. And I thought, you know, for a long time, maybe it was me. Like, maybe if I’d been better, she would’ve stayed. I don’t know—kids think dumb shit like that, right?”

You feel your heart tighten at the pain in his voice, and you reach up, brushing your fingertips against his chest. He doesn’t look at you, but you can feel him lean into the touch just a little.

“And Ward… fuck, Ward didn’t know what to do with us. He just buried himself in work, left me to deal with Sarah and Weezie. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was just a kid myself. I never accepted that responsibility, just kept running away from it.”

You can tell this is hard for him. His hand tightens slightly around your waist, like he needs to feel you’re still there.

“When I was sixteen... I started doing coke. Barry—yeah, that Barry—he used to sell it to me. Just to take the edge off, you know? Numb it all out. Ward’s expectations, Mom being gone, having to pretend like I had my shit together when I didn’t. I didn’t care about anything but getting high.”

He pauses, swallowing hard, his jaw tightening. You can tell this part of his story is the hardest to tell.

“I fucked up a lot. Scared the shit out of my sisters. I’d disappear for days sometimes, come home all strung out, and Sarah—God, Sarah would just look at me like... like she didn’t even know me anymore. Weezie was too young to get it, but Sarah? She knew.” He lets out a shaky breath, “I saw what it was doin’ to them. Saw how Sarah would flinch every time I walked through the door like she was waiting for the next disaster. It got bad—real bad.”

His voice drops even lower, almost like he’s ashamed.

“I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. The one scaring my little sisters, acting like a piece of shit. So I went to rehab. Didn’t tell anyone where I was going, just… left. I needed to get clean, for them. For me, too, I guess.”

He pauses, looking at you now, his blue eyes filled with something vulnerable, something that almost breaks your heart.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get out of it, but I did. Been clean since. That doesn’t mean I’ve figured everything out, though. I’m still... fuck, I’m still a mess most days.”

He’s never opened up to you like this before—not like this.You reach out and run your fingers through his hair, the simple gesture calming him a little. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment.

“You probably didn’t sign up for all this shit,” he says with a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “Me, my addiction, all that.”

He opens his eyes, looking at you like he’s waiting for something—maybe for you to tell him you can’t handle it. But you don’t say that. Instead, you brush your thumb across his cheek, “I signed up for you, Rafe. All of you.”

“I don’t talk about this shit much. Guess I didn’t think anyone cared enough to hear it.”

You move, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can look him the eyes properly,. “I care,” you say, your voice full of conviction. “I care about all of it. I’m here for you.”

He can’t believe what he’s hearing.

His hand moves to hold your cheek, pulling you down to meet his lips in a slow, tender kiss. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“You have no idea what you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time deeper, his hand sliding up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

His lips trail from your mouth, pressing lazy kisses down your jaw, over your neck. He shifts, pulling you closer, your body molding perfectly to his. “I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, his lips hovering over your collarbone.

You shake your head, resting a hand on his chest. “You do. You deserve someone who’s gonna be there for you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You know this is a side of Rafe not many people see—probably no one else does.

“Good thing you won’t have to find out.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says suddenly, the words spilling out of him in this quiet, almost reverent way.

You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as you lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”

He chuckles softly, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping securely around you. His cheek rests against the top of your head. You’re not going anywhere. And neither is he.

Rafe lets out a disbelieving laugh, running a hand over his face. “I can’t believe your pussy made me trauma dump after sex.”

The crudeness of it makes you roll your eyes.

“Yeah?” You tease lightly, “That what you’re calling it?”

He swallows, feeling that familiar tightness in his throat, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating this time. You’re still here. “No. It’s...you. Just—being you.”

He doesn’t know how to say it any better, doesn’t know how to put into words what it means to finally be seen — not as the perfect son, not as a ticking time bomb — just as Rafe.

But you peck him, simple and sweet.

“I guess I’ll just keep being me.”

The next morning you’re standing in the kitchen, lazily pouring milk over your cereal, still a little giddy from the night before. Rafe left earlier, before anyone was up, whining about how he wished he could stay longer.

As you take a spoon, your sister walks in with Milo perched on her hip, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Monica stops in her tracks, a sly smile creeping across her face.

“Nice hickey you got there,” she says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing toward your neck.

You choke on your cereal like an idiot.

“Uh, it’s just a... a bug bite! A really aggressive bug bite,” you stammer, trying to sound convincing as you awkwardly touch your neck.

Right, you’d forgotten about that after round three this morning.

She laughs, clearly not buying it. “Right. And when am I meeting him? Are you gonna make him sneak through the window again?”

You can’t help but giggle at the mental image. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Monica rolls her eyes, clearly enjoying this way too much. “What’s next? Is he going to slide down a fire escape to avoid us?”

You smirk back, shaking your head. “Only if you promise not to scare him off with your ‘get-to-know-my-sister’ interrogation.”

Milo, oblivious to the banter, tugs at your sister’s hair. “Mommy, can I have a snack?”

“Just finish getting ready for pre-school, buddy!” She turns back to you, still wearing that teasing grin. “Seriously though, when do I get to meet this guy? I need to know if he’s worthy of you.”

You shrug playfully, trying to keep your expression neutral. “We’ll see. Maybe next time he sneaks through the window, you can just happen to be in the living room.”

She gasps in mock horror. “Oh no, imagine the chaos! I might just scare him away on purpose.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.”

“Terribly excited! You better let me know when he’s back. I want to be ready to intimidate him.”

“Noted!” You wave her off, still grinning, secretly glad that your sister is supportive—even if she loves to poke fun at you.

For some reason, it doesn’t scare one bit thinking about Rafe meeting Monica and Milo.

538 notes · View notes

rosa-tulipano · 2 months ago

Text

showering w luigi ehehehe *monkey covering eyes emoji* theres a little bit of smut under the pink break for y’all- consider it a gift :]

luigi would get the bathroom all nice and steamy because he loved to watch the billows dance around your head. while you waited for the water to heat up, he helped you with your pre-shower routine. luigi would carefully comb through your hair as you looked for the perfect playlist to put on that day, taking care to slowly work through any knots.

“luigiii,” you giggled, his favorite melody in the world. “you really don’t have to be thaaat gentle”

he let out a little chuckle as he set down the comb, moving his hands to massage your scalp. he watched you through the mirror melt back against his chest, each point of pressure from his fingertips coaxing all the tension you held in your body out through your little sighs. your head fell back a bit in pleasure and luigi took the opportunity to press light kisses against your shoulder and neck.

“youre so beautiful” he whispered against your skin, moving his hands away from your hair to wrap his arms tightly around your bare waist as he nuzzled his cheek against the side of your head, just taking in your face and figure through the reflection.

you half groaned at the loss of his ministrations and half laughed at his sudden compliment. you rolled your head forward, pausing to look into his eyes in the mirror before turning around in his grasp. immediately, his hands rested atop your bottom while your arms snaked around his neck. “well, i think you’re more beautiful” your fingers scratched lightly at the nape of his neck, inching into his hairline.

he groaned at the feeling, eyes fluttering closed and a wonderfully content smile blossoming on his face. “nuh uh” he shook his head, “no way in hell” before surging forward to press his lips to yours. his hands sprinted to your head, playfully squishing your cheeks together. it was a passionate yet whimsical kiss. a kiss you couldn’t stop giggling and grinning through.

as his hands dragged down your back, luigi's lips moved wherever he could gain easy access- pressing into your smiles line, dragging down the column of your throat, crawling up to nip at your ear which caused you to squeal and push him away.

“okay! okay, okay we have to shower!” you tried to keep a straight face, but having to swat away luigis wandering hands made it incredibly difficult. he was able to get one solid smack to your ass before you got into the shower.

even under the water stream, luigi still refused to keep his hands off of you, even if it was just one hand rested on your hip. you took turns tending to one another- lathering and scrubbing each other’s bodies, gently washing each other’s face, and taking breaks to sing along with your favorite songs (using body wash and shampoo bottles as microphones, of course).

luigi took his time to shampoo your hair, massaging your scalp just the way you liked. when it came to his hair, you had him crouch down in front of you just enough to get the perfect leverage and reach.

“hurrryyy this is killing my knees,” he complained lightheartedly. you just laughed and scrubbed even harder, digging the heel of your palm into his head causing luigi to howl

as you rinsed everything off and stopped the water, you pulled the towel down from its bar only to look over and see luigi already out of the shower, committing the worst offence known to mankind.

“luigi!” you yell, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“wuh?” he looks you perplexed

you just stare down at his feet and the rug underneath them slowly getting darker and darker as it soaked in all the water that rolled down his body. “my bathmat….”

he guffawed at your reaction- so serious one would think he was stepping on a puppy or something. you look at him with incredulity and rising irritation.

“okay! sorry, i’m sorry!” he quickly whips his own towel around his body, lightly patting off the water from his legs before tucking it around his hips.

as you roll your eyes, trying to ignore how incredibly delicious he looked like that, luigi takes your towel from your hands. you watch curiously as he kneels in front of you, guiding one of your legs by the calf to rest your foot on his now clothed thigh. you giggle uncontrollably as he begins wiping down your whole leg before scooting back to move it onto the dry part of the bath mat and giving room to do the same to your other leg.

now fully in front of him, he works his way up, taking care to dry off every part of your body as you just watch him; smiling and grooving to the music. when he’s done he raises back to his full height and wraps the towel around your body under your arms, meticulously tucking it secure in the front with a very proud look on his face.

“why thank you, baby. that was very kind of you” you lean up to peck his mouth, “and you’re gonna make sure that bathmat is dry after we’re done, won’t you?”

“oh, but of course your highness” he kissed you a few more times. with those doe eyes? he’d agree with whatever you requested of him

you quirked your brow at his cheekiness, “hmm..good” with that you tugged him to the mirror to finish up your post-shower routine.

luigi sat down in the chair you usually had tucked in the corner of your bathroom- the chair you’d sit in to do your makeup in front of the sink. you took your time to tend to him: patting in multiple layers of skincare, brushing through his brows, dabbing on a lip mask; before moving onto his hair. luigi’s favorite part. you had some sort of magic hands that always left his curls looking wonderful afterward. it was relatively simple though, just raking a curl cream through and then finger coiling some of the strands along his hairline for more definition before gently patting out the excess water with a cotton t-shirt. something luigi never really cared enough to take the time to do before you came into his life.

luigi just sat back and took everything it, his hands obviously cradling your hips or waist of the sides of your thighs the whole time. the feeling of your fingers on his skin and in his hair were heavenly, coupled with the harmony of your humming along to your music had him ascending.

“done!” you exclaimed with a peck to his nose, bringing him back to earth. he had definitely fallen asleep a little bit, but he was more than happy to have been woken up. to luigi, your beautiful face beaming with pride was brighter and more inviting than any gate of heaven he could imagine.

he hummed in response with a tired smile, stroking his warm hands up and down your sides, “thank you baby” he mumbled

he looked so adorable you couldn’t help but just stare at him a little bit, lifting his chin up to get better look. “my pleasure, honey” you caressed his stubbled jaw, quickly smoohing his forehead

as you turned around to complete your own regimen, luigi stayed in place, leaning back in the chair and letting his head rest against the wall behind him. you did your own skin care and rewet your hair before combing some products through it- preferring to do it yourself.

luigi felt cradled in warmth, and not just from the remnant steam. he felt content, loved, and safe. more so than he’d ever felt in his life. he knew, watching you take care of yourself in your own little world, that he’d rather die than live a life without you. and that one day he will convince you to let him do your post-shower routine.

SMUT AHEAD. oral: male and female receiving

what started off as a relatively innocent shower, quickly turned to anything but. watching luigi's body bare under the constant stream of water, witnessing the way the soapy suds rolled down his taught torso and how the muscles in his arm flexed as he washed them away, had you reeling. the way you were looking at him, like he was the oasis you stumbled upon after days stuck in the desert, was not lost on luigi. he had taken the washcloth from you for a second while you had rinsed off your conditioner, but you snatched it right back from him

“please, allow me,” you whispered with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

you slowly dragged the soapy washcloth over his shoulders, your other hand moving to rake your fingers through his hair, pulling at the ends ever so lightly as you continued your “cleaning”. you moved the washcloth over his chest, baring your nails just so to scratch at his skin. luigis eyes rolled back before they closed, taking in the chills that rolled down his back and the goosebumps that prickled his arms. you giggled to yourself, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth, “that feel good baby?” he couldn’t even respond more than a moan

his reaction spurred you forward and you let your lips explore his wet skin. first around his prominent collar bones. from there they danced up the sides of his neck, focusing on the particular sweet spot that had him seeing stars. his hands gripped your waist, fingertips digging into the fat as if you were his anchor.

“ohh” a heavenly moan left his parted lips as you nipped at him, before you descended down his torso.

you took your time, peppering kisses over his nipples, licking and biting at his abs, and slowly dragging your lips down his happy trail. stopping right at the horizon of his curly tatch, your knees flush to the shower floor, you could feel his cock hardening against your neck

“baby…” luigis voice drew out above you as you looked up at him. he swallowed, trying to keep his composure but the warmth of your neck against his now painfully hard dick and the scratch of your fingernails dragging down his thighs had him suffering. the water was beating down on him and he was barely able to keep his eyes open, but he wanted to keep looking at you. he worked quickly to pull your wet hair back as best as he could and cupped your face as you nuzzled his cock. “oh, god” the scene before him was almost pornographic and all he wanted was for you to wrap your lips around him. “please, baby, please” he whined

when he spoke so sweetly, asked so nicely, how could you say no? any other time you’d tease him a little more, but his saccharine voice won you over tonight. and so, you obliged. keeping your hands on his thighs, you cupped your lips against the side of his cock and licked up to the tip where you circled your tongue around the head a few times before slowly puckering and sucking his length into your mouth.

“oh my fucking god” luigi groaned out, head thrown back at the sensation of your hot mouth working up and down his dick, your head expertly bobbing to get every inch of him inside of you. his left hand shot up to slam against the shower wall, finger curling in a pathetic attempt to grab onto something to no avail. “yes, yes, yes,” he mumbled as you burrowed your head down, pushing his length as deep down your throat as you could. luigi’s right hand gripped the back of you hand, tangling in your hair as he tried his hardest not to push you too much. you moaned with your mouth full of him, your fingernails digging into the skin of his hips where they had flown up to steady yourself. the vibrations made luigi involuntarily thrust his hips, causing you to gag. still you stayed flush against him, swallowing around his dick, the patch of hair tickling your nose. through the tears pooling in your eyes you looked up at luigi who had his eyes screwed shut and mouth slack, his expression causing you the moan even more. when your lungs burned too much with the desire for air, you pulled back with an aggressive pop. both your chests heaved in the desperate effort to catch your breaths.

“please,” luigi bent down to press his forehead to yours, his hands pulling your face up to meet his, “please don’t stop baby i’m so close” his breath was hot on your skin. his fingers swiped away the water that rolled down you cheeks, tears mixing with the shower stream. you nodded breathlessly the best you could with your neck already craning in his hands.

as soon as his forehead was off of yours, you went back to work, immediately taking him back into your mouth and sucking his soul out through his cock. you couldn't deepthroat him again, but you made sure not to leave a single centimeter of his dick untouched- whether it be by your lips or your tongue. you clawed you hands up his stomach, grasping at his abs. with a particularly strong stroke of your mouth, luigi gripped your fingers against him.

“fuck, yes, just like that.” he moaned your name, the sounds reverbrating off the shower walls making your pussy clench around nothing. those wonderful noises continued to spill from his lips as you kept bobbing your head and you couldn’t take it anymore, bringing one of your hands down to rub your clit. the pressure finally gracing your swollen bud caused you to groan and the resonance on his cock acted as luigi’s final straw. “i’m gonna cum” he announced breathlessly. and that he did. with three hard thrusts of his hips, luigi shot his hot load down your throat, which you swallowed obediently.

he didn’t even let you catch your breath when you pulled off of him, he scooped you up in his arms and pushed you against the shower wall.

“god, i fucking love you.” he basically growled before latching on to the side of your neck.

your mind was reeling from the prolonged lack of air and the humidity of the hot shower but you could feel luigi’s lips all over you. moaning and writhing against him, you clawed at his back, pulling him from where he was attached to your nipple. “i love you, too,” you quietly giggled before pressing your mouth to his. the kiss was heavy and messy, tongues gone rogue and teeth clashing against each other. luigi pulled away just enough to mirror your actions from earlier and began his decent to your core, his lips leaving a path in his wake.

he spread your legs just enough, hooking one over his shoulder. he kissed the length of the inside of your thigh while he looked up at you, biting at the fattest part. you sighed at the feeling, pushing your hands through his hair. you didn’t even have to ask for more before he pushed his face into you.

luigi was a munch, through and through, bringing you pleasure with his mouth was one of his favorite things to do. usually he’d take his time, working you up until you were begging for him. savoring your flavor with slow laps and kisses before bringing you to climax. but tonight he was a man starved. immediately, he began licking, sucking, and fucking you with his tongue. his head slotted so hard into you it was difficult for him to breathe. he didn’t care though, not one bit, rubbing his big nose against your clit as he pushed his tongue into you.

“oh, luigi, yes,” the pleasure was too much for you to be able to say much else, “right there.” you gasped, his mouth having moved to suck on your clit. you griped his head tighter, rutting your hips into his face. luigi loved when you did that- when you’d use him as you pleased. he gripped your ass, using the leverage to pull you up further to him. with this new angle and his simultaneous sucking and licking on your clit pushed you over the edge

“oh my god, i-” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before the dam broke. your body stiffened, your thighs tightening around luigi’s head, before your orgasm crashed over your body. absolute bliss followed the high, every one of your muscles instantly relaxing.

luigi took a few seconds to sit back on his haunches to catch his breathe before kissing back up your body, wrapping his arms tightly around you to hold you up when your legs gave out. you just looked at each other with wide grins, breathing equally heavy.

“that was crazy” you both said at the same time, your laughter light and airy.

“good thing we don’t have to do much to clean up” you quipped

luigi hummed in agreement, staring at the shower stream for a few beats before speaking “...wonder how much water we just wasted”

A/N: let me know what yall think!!! i love reading any and all comments. for some reason this took me hella long and isn't even that detailed so more detailed smut to come in the future! pls send me asks with your luigi daydreams or any requests <3

#luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione fluff #luigi mangione smut #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione x yn

271 notes · View notes

theonottsbxtch · 4 months ago

Text

SUMMER OF LOVE | CS55

an: i can’t remember how this idea came to me but me and rhi ( @iimplicitt ) were losing our minds at this concept eheheh

wc: 4,2k

"Have I ever told you about the summer I fell in love?"

Her voice was soft, her words carrying the weight of a memory so vivid, it might have been yesterday. Her grandchildren, sprawled on the living room floor with curious, wide eyes, shook their heads.

"Nonna had a romance?" one of them teased, the youngest, her freckles scrunched with disbelief.

She smiled, the kind of smile that knew things, and reached for the delicate chain around her neck. Dangling from it was a small, sea-glass pendant, its edges smoothed by the tides of time.

"It was on the Amalfi Coast," she began, her voice faraway now, as though the waves themselves had come to pull her back. "I was young, too young to know better. And his name was Carlos."

The room seemed to fall silent, except for the soft clink of rain against the window.

"Was he handsome?" one of the older grandchildren asked, leaning in.

She chuckled, low and warm. "Handsome doesn’t quite cover it. He was... larger than life. Carlos had this way about him—like the sun rose just to warm his skin, like every room he entered belonged to him." She paused, her gaze slipping past them, beyond the room. "But that was the summer I learned something important. The things that seem too perfect are usually hiding something."

For a moment, no one said anything. Then she leaned back in her chair, and the spell broke, just enough to let her voice return. "But it was still the most beautiful summer of my life. Let me tell you how it began..."

The summer of straight out of university unfurled like a dream. She had just turned twenty-one, brimming with the kind of naive hope that made her believe anything was possible. She and her best friend, Emilia, had spent months scraping together every spare coin, renting a modest villa just outside Positano. The place was small, with paint flaking from its whitewashed walls and shutters that groaned in the evening wind, but the terrace was draped in bougainvillea, and the view—a vast, shimmering stretch of the Tyrrhenian Sea—was worth every sacrifice.

That was where she first saw him.

The morning had been spent on the beach, lying on striped towels under the relentless Italian sun. By early afternoon, their shoulders were warm and pink, their hair damp with sea salt, and they’d wandered into a small harbor café for spritzes and shade.

She wore a yellow sundress Emilia had insisted she pack. “It’s perfect for you,” Emilia had said that morning, tying the straps just right. The dress clung to her lightly tanned skin, and for the first time in a while, she felt... beautiful.

And then he walked in.

He wasn’t just handsome—he was magnetic. He had the kind of presence that made strangers turn their heads, as if sensing something larger than life in their midst. Carlos wore an unbuttoned white linen shirt and tan trousers that looked effortless, but the real allure was in the way he carried himself. As though the summer sun and the breeze off the water were his alone.

“Who is that?” Emilia whispered, wide-eyed.

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her heart was thudding in her chest, her eyes fixed on him as he strolled to the counter.

Carlos ordered a coffee in fluent, easy Italian, exchanged a few words with the waiter, and smiled—a slow, devastating smile that seemed to brighten the whole café. He didn’t look at her until he turned to leave, but when he did, their eyes met briefly. Just a glance, quick and electric.

That evening, the village square came alive with music and laughter. String lights twinkled above the cobblestones, and the air smelled of grilled seafood and wine. She spun under the lights, her sandals kicking up dust as Emilia urged her to dance. The world felt infinite, golden, and free.

She didn’t notice Carlos at first. But then, in the middle of a spin, she felt a hand catch hers.

She turned, and there he was.

“Carlos,” he said simply, as if introducing himself was the most natural thing in the world.

“May have to wait for that,” she replied, her voice quieter than she intended.

He smiled again, and in that moment, it felt like nothing could go wrong. She couldn’t have known what lay ahead, couldn’t have guessed that something so dazzling could carry the weight of a secret. All she knew was that, for the first time in her life, she felt utterly alive.

Carlos didn’t let go of her hand right away. Instead, he led her toward the edge of the square, where the noise of the festa softened into a hum and the scent of lemons hung heavy in the night air.

“Are you visiting Positano?” he asked, his what seemed to be a Spanish accent lacing his words, smooth and melodic.

She nodded, trying to steady her voice. “Yes. Just for the summer.”

His dark eyes lingered on her, studying her as if committing every detail to memory. “Then I’m lucky to have met you. Summers go by so quickly.”

She smiled, feeling both shy and bold under his gaze. “What about you? Do you live here?”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head, his curls catching the light. “I’m only passing through. A few weeks, maybe less. Work, mostly.”

She tilted her head. “Work? On the Amalfi Coast?”

Carlos laughed, a low, rich sound that made her pulse quicken. “Not a bad place for it, is it? I’m… well, it’s complicated. But let’s not talk about work.”

“Alright,” she said, her smile widening. “What should we talk about, then?”

Carlos stepped closer, his voice soft. “Tell me about you. Why did you come to Positano?”

She hesitated, not sure what he wanted to hear. The truth felt almost too simple. “It’s beautiful here,” she said after a moment. “And I wanted—no, I needed—to feel something different. To get away, to see more of the world before...”

“Before what?”

She laughed nervously. “Before real life starts, I suppose.”

Carlos nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. “I understand that. Sometimes it feels like we only have a little time to be free, doesn’t it?”

The words settled between them, heavier than the moment called for, but she didn’t mind. She felt as if he saw right through her—past the yellow sundress, past the carefree dances under string lights, straight into the part of her that had always craved something more.

He offered her his hand again. “Dance with me.”

She hesitated, glancing back at the crowd in the square. “There’s no music here.”

Carlos smiled. “Do we need it?”

Before she could answer, he spun her gently into his arms. The world seemed to narrow around them, until it was only the sound of her breath and the quiet rustle of leaves in the warm breeze. He moved with an ease that matched the confidence in his smile, leading her as if they’d done this a hundred times before.

She laughed, the sound light and unguarded, and for the first time in a long while, she stopped thinking. She stopped wondering what came next, or what was expected, and let herself fall into the moment.

For the rest of the night, Carlos stayed by her side. They wandered through the winding streets of the village, talking about nothing and everything, until the festa died down and the moon hung high over the cliffs.

At her villa, just as the horizon began to blush with the first hints of dawn, he paused at the gate.

“I’d like to see you again,” he said, his voice low.

She hesitated. She wanted to say yes, but the intensity of his gaze unnerved her, as though she were stepping into something she didn’t fully understand. Still, she found herself nodding.

“Tomorrow?”

Carlos smiled, and for a moment, he looked almost relieved. “Tomorrow,” he said. Then, with one last lingering glance, he turned and disappeared into the pale light of morning.

She stood there for a long time, the stone of the villa cool beneath her palms, wondering how it was possible to meet someone who made the rest of the world feel small.

Over the next week, Carlos became a constant presence in her life. He seemed to know exactly where to find her, whether she was perched on the terrace with a book or wandering through the narrow streets of Positano. Every day, he’d appear with that same easy confidence, carrying two gelatos, or a bundle of lemons he’d picked from a nearby grove, or a suggestion for some new adventure.

They swam in hidden coves where the water was impossibly blue. They hiked to quiet hilltops, where the sea stretched endlessly beneath them. They danced again in the village square when another festa lit up the night, and Carlos spun her so wildly that she laughed until her ribs ached.

Emilia noticed, of course. She watched with a smirk as Carlos whisked her away each day, teasing her endlessly when they returned.

“I like this for you,” Emilia said one night as they lounged on the villa’s terrace. A bottle of wine sat between them, the remains of dinner scattered on their plates. “You deserve a little romance.”

She smiled, swirling her glass. “It’s more than a little, isn’t it?”

Emilia raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her cheeks warming. “It feels… big. Like I’m living in someone else’s story.”

Emilia grinned. “That’s how you know it’s good.”

As the week went on, she found herself looking forward to Carlos’ visits more and more. She didn’t just enjoy his company—she craved it. The way he made her laugh, the way he seemed to really see her, the way his stories always hinted at some grander, more mysterious life just beyond her reach.

And then, on the last evening of the week, as they stood on the terrace overlooking the sea, Carlos said something that caught her completely off guard.

“Stay,” he said simply.

She turned to him, startled. “Stay?”

“For another week,” he clarified, leaning against the railing. “Don’t leave tomorrow. Stay here, in my villa. Let me show you more. One more week—it’s nothing.”

Her heart fluttered at the way he said it, so casually, as if the world would bend to make it happen.

“I can’t just… stay,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

“Why not?” Carlos smiled, leaning closer. “Your life will still be waiting for you when you leave. But this—” he gestured to the view, to the stars scattered over the sea—“this won’t wait.”

When Carlos finally left that night, she found herself pacing the villa, unsure what to do. She turned to Emilia, who was stretched out on the couch, flipping through a guidebook.

“So,” Emilia said, not even looking up, “what did he want?”

She hesitated. “He asked me to stay.”

Emilia sat up, her eyes lighting up. “And what did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything.” She chewed her lip, pacing again. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, I like him—”

“You like him?” Emilia interrupted with a laugh. “Chica, you’re practically glowing every time he walks into a room. Let’s not downplay it.”

She sank onto the couch beside her, covering her face with her hands. “I think I’m catching feelings for him,” she admitted, her voice muffled.

Emilia’s grin softened into something kinder. “Good,” she said. “You should. Isn’t that the whole point of a summer like this?”

She peeked through her fingers. “But what if it’s a bad idea?”

Emilia shrugged, pouring the last of the wine into her glass. “Then it’s a bad idea you’ll never forget. But if you don’t stay, you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what might’ve happened.”

She stayed quiet for a long moment, staring out at the night. The stars felt closer here, the world smaller and brighter. She could already imagine what one more week with Carlos might feel like—the laughter, the late nights, the way her chest tightened every time he looked at her.

Emilia nudged her. “So? What are you going to do?”

She smiled softly, her decision already forming.

“I’m going to stay.”

Her extra week in Positano felt like stepping into another world, one that existed just for the two of them. With each passing day, Carlos became more ingrained in her life—guiding her to places tourists never found, introducing her to the quiet beauty of sunrises on the cliffs and the music of waves crashing against hidden coves.

They spent hours talking, laughing, and sharing pieces of themselves. He told her about his childhood, how he’d grown up by the sea but had spent most of his adult life in cities that never seemed to sleep. She told him about her love of art, her dreams of finding a life that felt as vibrant as the colors on her canvas.

The days blurred into golden afternoons and soft evenings, and each moment with Carlos felt lighter than air.

But it was the night before her second departure when everything changed.

They were sitting on the terrace of the villa, the stars bright and close overhead. The wine they’d been sipping was nearly gone, and the air was thick with the scent of salt and bougainvillea. Carlos had been quiet, uncharacteristically so, leaning back in his chair as if lost in thought.

She reached over, brushing her fingers against his hand. “What are you thinking about?” she asked softly.

He glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “Nothing worth troubling you with.”

She laughed, light and soft. “You think too much.”

“And you don’t think enough,” he countered with a faint smile, his eyes meeting hers.

She hesitated, her heart beating faster. She felt as though the night were holding its breath, the world tilting slightly. The words came before she could stop them.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

For a moment, the only sound was the distant crash of the waves below.

Carlos didn’t move, didn’t speak. His eyes darkened, his expression tightening just enough for her to notice.

Panic shot through her chest. She pulled her hand back quickly. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to— I don’t know why I—”

“Amore, stop,” he interrupted gently, but she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she muttered, rising from her chair. “I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I? I knew this wasn’t—”

“Amore,” he said again, more firmly this time, standing and catching her wrist. “Don’t. You haven’t ruined anything.”

She turned to him then, her eyes glistening, searching his face for something—anything—that would make her feel less foolish. But what she saw only confused her more.

“Then why do you look like that?” she whispered.

Carlos closed his eyes for a moment, his grip on her wrist loosening. When he opened them again, there was something pained in his expression, something she couldn’t place.

“I didn’t want this to happen,” he said softly.

Her stomach sank. “Didn’t want what to happen?”

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Amore, I—” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “I wasn’t honest with you. From the beginning.”

��What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“I have someone waiting for me,” he said finally, his voice heavy. “Back in Monaco. A fiancée.”

The word hung in the air, sharp and cutting. She froze, her mind racing, trying to make sense of what he’d just said.

“A… fiancée?” she repeated, her voice hollow.

“Yes.” He looked at her, his expression pleading now. “I never meant to hurt you, amore. I didn’t expect to meet someone like you.”

She stepped back, shaking her head. “So what was this, then? A game? A way to pass the time before you went back to her?”

“No, it wasn’t like that,” Carlos said quickly, his voice breaking. “It was real. Every moment with you was real.”

She stared at him, her heart splitting in two. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? You’re going back to her.”

Carlos didn’t answer right away. His silence was all the confirmation she needed.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She turned away, gripping the edge of the terrace railing as the wind whipped her hair around her face. “You should leave,” she said finally, her voice trembling.

“Amore—”

“Stop calling me that!” she shouted, cutting him off. “You have a fiancée?” she repeated, her voice trembling with both disbelief and fury.

“Yes,” Carlos said quietly, his shoulders slumping. “But it’s not… it’s complicated.”

Her laugh was sharp and bitter. “What could possibly be complicated about being engaged and then spending two weeks seducing someone else?”

He took a step closer, his hands open, pleading. “She made me marry her.”

She froze, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What?”

Carlos looked at her, desperation etched in his features. “She made me. Or she’d leave me.”

Her mouth fell open, and for a moment, she couldn’t find the words. When they finally came, they were laced with disbelief. “Made you? What do you mean, made you? Are you some kind of dog, Carlos?”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, ashamed. “It’s… it’s more complicated than you think. In my line of work. There are a type of people I should be seen with. If I didn’t agree—”

“Then she’d leave you,” she finished coldly. “And you couldn’t stand that, could you?”

Carlos’s eyes darted back to her. “It’s not like that.”

“Then tell me what it’s like,” she snapped, her voice breaking.

“I don’t love her,” he said quickly, his voice rising. “I love you.”

Her heart wavered for a moment, but her anger flared again, overpowering the fragile flicker of hope. “Then why don’t you break up with her? I don’t understand.”

Carlos ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. “That’s the problem.”

Her laugh was sharp, cutting through the night. “The problem? Carlos, what does that even mean? Do you love her or not?”

“No!” he said, stepping closer. “I told you, I don’t love her. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

She stared at him, her chest heaving with the weight of his words. She wanted to believe him—wanted to believe that the past week hadn’t been a lie. But something inside her cracked, a voice of reason cutting through the chaos.

“And who’s to say you won’t find another young thing in another sunny place and do the same thing to me?” she asked, her voice quiet but firm.

Carlos recoiled as if she’d slapped him, his face falling. “Amore… it’s not like that. I swear, it’s not.”

“Isn’t it?” she shot back, her eyes narrowing. “You’re standing here, telling me you love me, but you’re also telling me you’re tied to someone else. What am I supposed to do with that, Carlos? What kind of future could we even have?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. For the first time, Carlos seemed uncertain, his usual confidence faltering.

She shook her head, stepping back toward the railing. “You don’t even know what you want, do you? You want me, but you won’t let go of her. You want both, and that’s not love, Carlos. That’s selfish.”

“Amore,” he said softly, reaching for her, but she pulled away.

“No,” she said, her voice firm. “I think you should leave. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”

For a long moment, he stood there, as if trying to find the right words to stop her from slipping away. But there was nothing he could say, and he knew it.

Without another word, he turned and walked into the darkness, leaving her alone on the terrace, her tears finally falling as she gripped the cool stone railing.

She’d come to Positano searching for freedom, for something bigger than the life she’d left behind. But now, she felt more trapped than ever, chained to a memory she’d never quite escape.

“And so,” she continued, her voice soft, tinged with a wistful smile, “I left Positano. I packed my things, kissed the sea goodbye, and never looked back.”

The youngest leaned forward, her dark curls bouncing. “But what happened, Nonna?”

She tilted her head, her gaze distant, as though she were looking out at the cliffs of Positano again, the sea shimmering beneath her memory.

“He loved another woman,” she said simply, her voice steady despite the weight of the words.

“And what happened to her?” asked the eldest, his voice filled with curiosity.

She smiled faintly, leaning back in her chair. “He fell out of love.” She let the silence linger for a moment before adding, “And I didn’t wait for him. Instead, I met your abuelo.”

The children exchanged glances, the story lingering between them. Finally, the youngest spoke again, her voice cautious. “Nonna, did you ever… stay in touch with him?”

Her smile faltered, just slightly. She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stood, smoothing her skirt with her hands. “Wait here,” she said, her voice quieter now.

She crossed the room, her steps deliberate, and opened the door to her bedroom. The grandchildren exchanged curious looks but didn’t follow, their gazes tracking her as she disappeared into the wardrobe.

Moments later, she returned, a small wooden box in her hands. The edges were worn with age, but it was polished and cared for, as though it had been opened and closed countless times. She placed it gently on the coffee table and sat back down, her hands folded in her lap.

“What’s in there?” asked the middle child, her voice barely above a whisper.

She hesitated for a moment before opening the lid. Inside were dozens of letters, all neatly tied with faded ribbons. The envelopes were yellowed with time, but the handwriting on each one was unmistakably bold, slanted, and familiar.

The eldest leaned closer, picking up one of the letters. On the front, her name was written in Carlos’ elegant script. When he turned it over, he froze.

“Abuela,” he said, his eyes wide, “es el piloto de Ferrari?”

Her lips pressed into a thin smile, her eyes softening with a mix of emotions. She reached over and took the letter from him, her fingers lingering on the edges of the paper.

“To me,” she said softly, “he was just Carlos.”

The room fell silent, the letters resting on the table like echoes of a life she hadn’t shared before. Her grandchildren didn’t speak, sensing that this part of the story didn’t need more words. She glanced at the letters one last time before carefully closing the lid of the box.

“So what you’re saying is… our abuelo could have been Carlos Sainz?” The only boy said.

His sister gasped, her hands flying to her cheeks, while the youngest giggled, nudging her brother.

Her stern look didn’t last long before her lips curved into a small smile. “Mira,” she said, leaning forward slightly, her tone serious but warm, “if your heart tells you something, believe it.”

The grandchildren quieted, their attention snapping back to her.

She gestured to the box on the table. “There was a time when my heart told me to stay. To hold on to a dream. But it also told me to walk away, even when it hurt.” Her voice softened, her gaze drifting again to a place only she could see. “And because I listened, I found your abuelo. I found a love that was steady and strong, one that didn’t ask me to sacrifice myself.”

The children were quiet, absorbing her words.

The eldest broke the silence, her voice small but curious. “But… do you think you made the right choice, Nonna?”

She smiled gently. “I know I did,” she said. “Because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have the three of you sitting here, making a mess of my living room.”

The children laughed, the heaviness of the moment lifting just a little.

The boy grinned again, though his voice was softer this time. “Still, it’s kind of crazy. We could’ve been the grandchildren of a Ferrari legend.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Ay, chico. Legends don’t make families. Your abuelo gave me something far greater than any title or fame ever could.”

She reached out, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his hair. Then she looked at each of them in turn, her voice steady but full of warmth. “Remember this, mi amor. Listen to your heart. But make sure it leads you somewhere worth staying.”

For a moment, the grandchildren were silent, watching their grandmother as though seeing her for the first time. Then the eldest crawled onto the armrest of her chair, curling against her side.

“Te quiero, Nonna,” she murmured.

She smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Sofia’s face. “I love you too, mi cielo.”

As the sun began to set outside, casting the room in a golden glow, the box of letters sat on the table, unopened but not forgotten. A quiet reminder of a life lived boldly, with a heart that never stopped listening.

the end.

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #cs55 fic #cs55 #ferrari formula one #ferrari formula 1 #ferrari

274 notes · View notes

bwobgames · 5 days ago

Text

They get inside and arrange sleeping partners.

Of course, the couples couple up.

Marigold and Nina get to their room

“Is it comfy?”

“Yessssss”

“Hehe, seems like we’ll actually get to relax this time”

“I could fall asleep right here… But the train experience…”

“We can sleep later, let’s have fun! In a calm pace”

“Well, what should we do? Look at the scenery pass by? Crochet?”

“Hmm…”

A fun expression passes her face

“You should be bad.”

“Oh? Should I?”

“You should be bad!!”

“Nina, we’re in a mission. The hunt of the season”

“Let’s snatch their wine”

“Ehehehe”

Talking to Nina always makes her feel younger. As if they were still college students with small responsibilities.

As if they never grew old.

As if life didn’t get in the way.

But enough of that, there’s wine to snatch.

She enters the eating area

The objective has been located, behind a devious guard. What riddles will she have to solve?

“Excuse me, can we take these?”

“Of course.”

Fool. Now they are gonna take it! AND drink it!

“And these?”

“You can take any”

He doesn’t suspect a thing

“Here here, it’s the fruit one that you like”

“Oh! It’s been a while! since I had this”

To imagine that smile was erased for so long. And Mari has no one to blame but herself.

Well. There’s someone else to blame but she’d rather not speak ill of the dead. It’s not worth her time.

She finishes her cup in one go. She can feel it in her system.

She used to be able to down coffee, beer and energy drinks like there was no tomorrow, but these days alcohol hits heavier.

Like her knees.

And back.

And various other articulations.

Sadly, for those parts, a good song just came up in her head and has injected rhythm in her blood.

“Careful with your dress!”

“We’re in vacation! Dresses don’t get stained!”

“Say that to you tailor!”

“I’ll tell him to shove it!”

“What are you even dancing to?”

“Beethoven symphony number 5”

“Really?”

“No, it was Footloose”

“Hahaha!”

She moves in a manner that would terrorize her ballet teacher. He can shove it too.

Oh right! The wine! Happiness should be shared.

“Let’s share this”

That detective is no lightweight, he’d give this drink good use.

They go back to where everyone is and have yet another cup, this time in cheerful chorus.

Until Vivi arrives with the latest news: New people are here!

A group of young adults, possibly university students. The type to hitchhike across the country.

Part of her always wondered how that would be, but she’s too used to the comforts of modern transportation and housing to brave it out in nature.

…If she were to be in an abandoned island, would she survive? Her spirit is too strong to give up, but her skills just aren’t enough. She knows nothing of that life.

Oh well. That’s not going to happen, so she shouldn’t worry.

Huh. For an objectively relaxing trip, she sure has a lot of weird things coming to mind.

One of them is the word “haunted”.

Oliver and Ángel explained it. She’s a bit… sad, that Nadia didn’t trust her with this. She said it was to not worry her, but Marigold is her mother! Worrying is what she’s here for!

He’s lucky she never found him at the house. She would’ve given him the talk of a lifetime.

Also killed him, maybe.

Anyways, train is haunted? Yeah, right. She can’t help but admire the publicity stunt, but these kids are taking it too seriously.

Great accidents, ghosts, otherworldly monsters, they’re still too young to understand where the true horror lies.

A heart full of greed.

He says her piece and leaves; she has no time for bedtime stories.

It seems that Nina decided to hang around for a bit, probably to talk about the glasses girl.

Even as much as everyone has tried, no one can truly cure Nina’s heart.

And she highly doubts if His ghost appears it would make it any better.

She walks until she remembers that she doesn't have to go anywhere

Wineless and Wifeless, she sets a new objective.

#detective beebo overnight train #small yet powerful #just this. man.#finished drawing these on the job lol

78 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months ago

Note

Slimy fellow meets slimy fellow.

Also known as Fellow meets Azul.

I thought this one would be more fun to write if I immediately cut to Fellow at the Mostro Lounge (following the reader's advice, of course)! Also, I will take any excuse to write the twins--

This ended up being a lot longer than I had initially intended, it's over 2k words (blame my Octavinelle bias)... Hope you enjoy!

So tell me, do you wanna go?

"Whoa, Giddie. Check out this classy joint."

Fellow whistled as he took in the majesty of the Mostro Lounge.

Plum carpets gave rise to a set of stairs, and up the railings were several plush, quilted booths. Each table had its own lamp, a shining orb held up by a gnarled arm of coral. There was a bar area too, complete with a row of sleek stools, the shelves behind the counter well-stocked with tins of tea blends.

Overlooking the entire establishment was a massive glass wall, where the ocean itself peered in on the patrons. Shadows of seaweed and coral ran along the seabed outside, rainbow-colored fish darting by in bursts. Jellyfish lights swung from the ceiling, casting the lounge in an otherworldly blue glow. Smooth jazz emanated from somewhere in the eatery, backed by the soft accompaniment of ambient sounds--water splashing, bubbles dancing.

As Fellow and Gidel stood there gawking, they hadn't noticed two lanky shadows approach them from behind--not until they uttered a greeting in unison.

"Welcome to the Mostro Lounge!"

Fellow jumped at the hands that clapped onto either of his shoulders. He met two nearly identical faces.

"Table for two?" Jade offered.

"Can we getcha started with drinks?" Floyd asked.

Fellow jolted back, pointing a shaking finger at the twins. "H-HIEEEEEEE!! I-It's you guys!"

Jade smiled politely, feigning ignorance. “Oya, Fellow-san. You appear to be rather jumpy today. You’ve come to just the right place to put that anxiety to rest.”

“Y-You’re not gonna wail on us?!”

“Wail on ya?” Floyd’s mouth was stretched eerily wide. “Eheheh. Why’d we wanna do that?”

“Quite right, Floyd." Jade nodded. "We would never harm an esteemed guest. This is a gentlemen's lounge--there is no fighting allowed."

"You're... not mad about what happened before?"

The corners of Jade's mouth twitched. A droll laugh, suppressed. "Think nothing of it. Call it water under the bridge. Floyd and I, we are not the vengeful sort."

Fellow stared at him as though Jade had suddenly sprouted another head. I don't buy that for one second!!

"So do ya want grub or not? Hurry up, cuz we got other customers to deal with," Floyd groused, jabbing at finger at the packed tables behind him.

Fellow eyed them both suspiciously--but his gaze darted between the shady eels and Gidel, who was patting his belly. His reply came out weak and reluctant. "Well... If you're offering food..."

"Then right this way." Jade bent, gesturing with one hand. "I believe this is your first time dining with us, so allow me to inform you of our specials."

He led the way, expertly weaving between Octavinelle servers and roaming guests. Fellow followed, Gidel lagging behind him, and Floyd held the back of the line, plucking up two menus from a podium as they passed it. As they briskly made their way to an open booth, Jade rattled off facts.

"You may order a la cart, but we also offer meal sets in which we have curated the perfectly paired the dishes for you. Substitutions can be made upon request to accommodate allergies and dietary restrictions. There is a separate specialty beverage menu. The Mystery Drink is our most popular item--we highly recommend it."

"Wait a sec!" Fellow held up a hand. "Food's great and all, but I was hopin' to hear about something else too."

Jade craned his head. "Oh? And what might that be?"

The fox beastman leaned in, cupping his mouth against Jade's ear. "Word on the street is, the big shot around here has the ability to make wishes come true. I want in on that."

The twins exchanged a knowing look. Their mismatched eyes glinted with delight.

"... Of course, dear customer. We can arrange an audience with Azul for you. However, please be advised that it requires that you order a certain amount of food. The meal sets are worth 3 points each, and the drinks, 1 point. You will need to accumulate at least 50 points total in order to secure a spot with Azul."

"No problem! Together, Giddie and I could eat a man out of house and home," Fellow chuckled. "We'll take one of everything you've got!"

“Out of house and home!!” For some reason, this made Floyd laugh. It was an odd, raspy sound, like branches and the wind scraping and rustling against a ratty window.

“What’s so funny?”

"Oh, nothin’. You just made me remember a funny joke,” Floyd reassured him. “Don’t worry. We’ll get your order ready for ya in a jiffy~"

"Azul, you have a new client."

Jade held the door open for Fellow and Gidel to pass through. Floyd lingered in the corridor like a bouncer guarding the room--or a jailer ensuring they stay in it.

The duo stepped into a neat office, flanked on both sides by towering bookshelves. The carpet they treaded on bore an intricate pattern of scalloped shells and swirls. Two deep purple couches were set across from one another. A coffee table was between them, its surface layered glass. Luminescent blue colored the base of the bookshelves and the interior of the coffee table.

A large chunk of the back wall composed a massive vault. Seated in front of it was a young man at a grand desk. He had silvery hair swept to one side, and sharp eyes behind thick frames. A pile of contracts say upon his desk, along with a lamp and a pot of ink. He deposited what appeared to be a fish skeleton in his inkwell and stood, smiling at Fellow and Gidel.

“Welcome to the VIP Room,” the young man purred. “I am the dorm leader of Octavinelle and the manager of Mostro Lounge. Azul Ashengrotto, at your service.”

“Honest. Fellow Honest. And this here’s my little buddy, Gidel.”

"Oh, there's no need for introductions, Fellow-san. I've already heard plenty about you from Jade and Floyd."

"Have you now?" A slight edge formed in Fellow's voice. "It sounds like my reputation precedes me."

Azul chuckled darkly. "Indeed. Ah, but that is why you've come to seek my counsel, is it not? You're seeking something. Please, have a seat." He gestured to the couches. "Tell me of your troubles."

Gidel happily planted himself down, but Fellow stood his ground and clenched his fists.

"It's money," he blurted out. "I need money, and lots of it."

Azul blinked. He quickly composed himself and gave a laugh. "If I could materialize thaumarks out of thin air, the value of them would surely plummet. May I ask what it is that you intend on using these funds for?"

"I want to start my own school. One that'll be WAY better than this crappy establishment for entitled rich kids!" Fellow waved at the overembellished office with his cane. "A school for everyone, no matter what their background or social class is! A school that teaches practical life skills!"

(The twins, listening in from the doorway, snickered amongst themselves. Azul shot them a glare.)

"Hmm... I see that you're an ambitious man, Fellow-san. As a businessman myself, I must commend your drive," the merman drawled, "and I am willing to help make it a reality, provided you are also willing to pay the price. You can't get something for nothing, as I'm sure you know."

Fellow's stomach dropped. He had anticipated this, but it didn't make the gut punch any less painful. "What's it gonna cost me?"

"I'm not asking much. Just a token, really--a trifle! You'll never even miss it." Slime coated each of Azul's words. "What I want from you is... your unique magic."

He went cold, the color draining from him. From the couch, Gidel startled, suddenly alarmed. "Life is Fun?""

"Correct." Azul's smile seemed more like a smirk now. "From my understanding, your spell is able to enhance one's optimism, making the subject more susceptible to suggestion and taking risks. Not only that, but it is subtle enough to avoid detection. It would be a great boon to have at my disposal. I could easily dispel any doubts my clients may have about signing a contract."

"But that's...! That's...!" Fellow sputtered, unable to come up with a coherent argument.

"That is my offer, Fellow-san. It's non-negotiable." Azul looked him up and down. Not that he has much else to offer.

"Tch...!"

He weighed the options.

Riches for his magic. A magic so measly that mightier mages spat upon it. His magic for riches. Riches so vast he could jumpstart his dream, ensure a golden future for him and Gidel.

Azul's words coiled around him like constrictive tentacles.

"I'm not asking much. Just a token, really--a trifle! You'll never even miss it."

Fellow wavered.

Maybe I should take the deal...

"...!!"

Gidel rose from the couch and tackled Fellow, latching onto an arm. Fellow stumbled backwards, nearly crashing into a bookshelf.

"W-Whoa! Hey, watch it, Giddie!!" he yelped, trying to pry the boy off of him. "Can't 'cha see I'm thinkin' here?!"

Fellow abruptly stopped. Gidel gazed at him with wide, pleading eyes. Wetness coated the corners, tears threatening to spill.

It's a part of you. It's yours. Don't give it up, he begged.

"Giddie..." Fellow's hand sank into Gidel's hair and ruffled it. "... Thanks for that. I needed it."

His resolve returned to him, hardening into steel. Turning back to Azul, Fellow replied, "Sorry, I've changed my mind. I think I'll work things out on my own."

"!!" Gidel beamed proudly.

"Are you certain? These endeavors can be a challenge without sufficient financial backing," Azul warned.

"Positive. I don't wanna kiss up to some board of investors to move up in the world!" Fellow seized Gidel's oversized sleeve. "C'mon, we've got places to be!"

"Well!" Azul huffed, looking displeased. "If you think you can manage!"

"We can, no worries!"

With that, Fellow steered himself and Gidel out of the VIP Room. They skipped along, humming a jolly tune. Azul waited for their sound to completely vanish before he jerked his head to the twins.

"I thought you said they'd be easy marks," he bellowed.

"Perhaps we misjudged," Jade suggested, brows upturned. "The child appears to act as Fellow-san's conscience--and a rather effective one, at that."

"We did almost get them though!" Floyd protested. "Hook, line, and sinker!!"

Azul sighed deeply. "There's no helping it. What's done is done. This time, they got away from us--but it's alright. At the very least, we've got their money!"

Silence threaded the room.

"... I said, at the very least, we've got their money." Azul stared at the twins, who were strangely quiet. "We DO have their money, correct?"

"My, I may have neglected to disclose our prices to Fellow-san," Jade said with a smile. "It seems he was under the impression that the Mostro Lounge's offerings were as free as the cafeteria's buffet is."

"And since we know you're soooo generous, we thought it would be okay to let'm eat their fill to rack up those points~" Floyd added. "'Sides, Jade and I wanted to see how you'd get along!"

Azul's expression splintered. "... So you two allowed Fellow-san and Gidel-san to dine and dash? All to get a rise out of me?"

"You could phrase it like that, yes."

"Yup~!!"

Panic immediately set in. His mind raced, running the calculations simultaneously. How many tens of hundreds of thaumarks he was losing out on.

Azul pushed past the nonchalant Leeches and to the door. Gathering all of his breath, he hollered down the hallway.

"All Mostro Loungs staff on deck, this is an order from your manager!! I want that redheaded fox beastman and his cat accomplice captured and brought to me STAT!! Is that clear?!"

"Wow, Azul's really losin' it!" Floyd cackled. "It was worth all that trouble just to see this~"

"I couldn't agree more, Floyd. Fufufu, there is never a dull day in Octavinelle."

99 notes · View notes

graciegoeskrazy · 10 months ago

Text

if i believe u

matty healy + daughter!r (ft. gabbriette, charli, and george!)

warnings: angsty asf but what did u except, matty says he regresas being a dad, step moms(???), queen gabbriette, shitty matty, lying, yelling, a curse word or two, just general family angst, longest one if written in awhile, george n charli

a/n: first matty daughter r in awhile but 5 SEPERATE PEOPLE ASKED FOR THIS so i had to do it obvi. btw im not hating on gab she’s actually the hero of this story i will not tolerate gabbriette slander only matty slander eheheh. ty to my lovely anons who requested it makes me happy🤭

r is about 13 ish

Your dad said him and Gabby were going out to dinner while you were at your end of the year dance. It was an event for middle schoolers, nothing crazy, but they figured they’d take advantage of a couple hours to themselves by having a romantic dinner out. He said they’d be home well before you ended your night, and to just text when you got home.

“I’m home!”

You were met with no answer. You didn’t think much about it and went to your room, starting to take off your jewelry from the night.

“Hey, dancing queen.” He said, appearing in the doorway.

You smiled at his comment, looking back at him. “How was dinner?” You asked.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “Good…really really good.”

You thought his response was interesting, but didn’t look to much into it, just taking off your heels from the evening.

“Where’s Gabby?” You asked.

“Bedroom. Thought i’d talk to you in private for a second.”

You turned back suddenly. “About what?” He chuckled when your face turned to worry so quickly.

“Nothing bad. Don’t worry. No one is dead.”

You smiled back, crossing your arms. “Then what is it?”

He looked down at his hands, specifically one finger.

He rarely wore new rings, always sticking to the same ones. You quickly noticed he was grazing over a new one.

One that laid on a certain finger.

You already knew your answer, but you asked anyway, “What’s that?”

He showed a coy smile, while examining the ring on his own finger. “An engagement ring.” He said, smiling.

A part of himself couldn’t believe it. You definitely couldn’t believe it either.

“You’re engaged?” You asked, voice quiet.

“Yeah,” He said, with a faded breath. “Yeah honey, I am.”

Your voice became quiet. “To Gabby?”

“Yeah.” His smile wouldn’t go away. He hasn't smiled like that in so long. A part of you wanted to take a picture of it. Another part of you wanted to wipe it off his face.

“Wow.” was all you could say at the moment.

You spoke after a second of silence. “Are you sure about this dad?”

“About what? Marrying the love of my life?”

He started to get defensive right away. “I mean, Dad, I don’t know her.” You let out a short laugh and smile, as if that should’ve been obvious. “Yeah, she’s been nothing but nice but, you haven't been dating for even a year? And now what? She’s gonna move in with us?”

You saw his face turn. “No, we’re moving in with her.” He said quickly.

You couldn’t believe it. And the fact that he said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world made it harder. “Wh-what about London?”

He started to look anywhere but at you. “We’re gonna move to the states, baby.”

He can’t be serious.

You blinked at him, unsure if this was a dream. “So…I get zero say in this?”

He scoffed. “God forbid I try and give you some stability in life- a family.”

Your blood started to boil. “She’s not even old enough to be my mother.”

“Y/n Healy!”

“And what stability? My life has been a faltering mess since you’ve opened your mouth!” Your voice was now at ten, his not far behind.

“Do not talk to me like that young lady.” He stood straighter, in full authoritative dad mode.

“Don’t talk like what? Don’t tell the truth?” His eyebrow quirked. “You know full well the reason people dropped me, or the reason I had to switch friend groups is because of the stupid shit you’ve said.” He sighed, he knew you were right about that one. “Dad, it’s not that you’re getting married, it’s the fact that you didn’t even think to tell me!”

“I thought you would be happy! This is good news!”

“What about this conversation we’re having screams ‘happiness’?” You said while gesturing between the two of you.

“Oh, so you hate Gabby?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t hate Gabby- I never said I did!”

“Oh so, you just don’t want me to marry her. You don’t want me to be happy.” He started to get protective, voice full of venom.

“I never said that ethier!” You were growing tired.

“Then what is it?”

You felt that it was painfully obvious, but clearly not. “Dad, my whole life is here. My school, my only friends, my home, and you’re just gonna take that away from me in an instant? Without any warning?” He started getting angry. You kept going.

“You didn’t even think about asking me!”

“I wouldn’t have to think about asking if you weren’t here!”

And there it was. The truth. The thought you’ve been dreading to hear since the moment you found out your existence wasn’t exactly planned. The straw that broke the camels back. The words you knew were always true, but never thought you’d actually hear him say.

Your world went blurry after that. Gabbriette stormed in, yelling “Matty!”, and shielding you from your father and any other personal or verbal attacks he might make, but the truth was that he recognized his mistake right after he said it.

He promised himself, right after you were born, he would never make you feel like a mistake. A burden. He wouldn’t be one of those dads. But here he was, frozen. Standing in front of his fiancé while she hold his baby girl, sobbing, because of his words. Because he made her feel that way.

You cried into her. She held you close. Your father slowly became aware of his mistakes and what he had done. Gabbriette looked at him, still holding on tight to you. “Get out.”

He swallowed. “I didn’t mean-“

“Get out Matthew.” She said sharply.

He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

It felt like the weight of the world came crashing down on your shoulders. The truth, finally free, so heavy that you couldn’t keep up anymore, you came falling down with it.

Gabby knew he didn’t entirely mean it. But, her focus was on the task at hand. And that was getting you back to feeling safe. You sobbed and sobbed into her, the cries getting more violent over time. “It’s alright, i’ve got you.” She brought you to the bed, soothing you and kissing your head gently. “I’m right here.”

—————

Matty woke up the next morning with a raging headache. He turned to find his fiancé’s side of the bed empty and cold. He sighed.

The knocks wouldn’t stop. He begrudgingly leapt out of bed and to the front door. When he opened the door he was met with Charli and George, standing side by side. Both still in lounge clothes but Charli wide awake, compared to George who looked half asleep.

“What did you do to your daughter now?” She asked, crossing her hands over her chest, voice full of power.

Matty tried rubbing his eyes awake, but it was no use. “What?” he asked, voice full of sleep.

Charli ignored him and flew past him through the house. “You think my kid was really capable of keeping her mouth shut? Baby?! Auntie Charli is here!!!”

George, still in his sleepy state, met his friend, closing the door behind him. “What did you do man?”

Matty sighed, putting his hands over his eyes to block out the peaks of sun coming in as he made his way to the living room. “I messed up.”

George rolled his eyes, “Well clearly because Charli wouldn’t wake me at 7am if it wasn’t important.”

Matty groaned and leaned back. “How did she even know?”

George shrugged, “Your girl must’ve texted ours.” Matty hummed. “She swore to y/n she wouldn’t tell us, but she was worried about what you said to her. Came crying to us this morning.”

George patted him on the shoulder and started to leave the room. “I’m making coffee. Go put pants on and then tell me what happened.”

—————

earlier that morningr - 4am

You only left your bed once after the fight and it was only to change out of your dress from the dance and into pjs Gabbriette gathered for you after much convincing that you’d be more comfortable.

She brushed your hair back and into a ponytail. When she tried to leave after you finally settled, you begged her in your sleepy state to stay.

So she did.

Come 4 am, you were wide awake. Unable to get your fathers words out of your mind. “Are you awake?” You said.

“Yeah.” She said.

It took you a second but she spoke. “I’m sorry, Gabby.”

She opens her eyes and turned to face you, grabbing your face softly with one hand in the process. “You have nothing to apologize for, y/n-”

You started crying at the gesture. “I don’t hate you! I swear I don’t! He’s lying-“

She shushed you. “I know you don’t, sweet girl. He’s just trying to get in your head after everything.”

You slowly nodded and she sighed. “You need to know that you did nothing wrong. Ever.”

Your cries turned to sniffles. “Yes I did.”

“What did you do?”

“I existed?”

She knew this is how you really felt, and it hurt her so much to realize that the person who was supposed to be the love of her life did this to his own daughter. He made you feel this way. Nothing or no one else. “Honey, that’s not true.”

“Yes it is. He said it!”

“Well what he said was wrong.” She said frim, yet caring. “No doubt about it.”

The sniffles slowly softened even more over time. After a minute or two in comfortable silence, you spoke. “I hope you still love him though.”

She laughed, not expecting your honest remark. “Unfortunately, I still do. With all my heart.” She didn’t miss the smile that danced on your lips. “Go back to sleep. I don’t need him clouding your thoughts when you’re trying to get your beauty rest.”

You closed your eyes, snuggling closer to her, hand quickly grazing over hers in the process. “Damn girl, that’s a big fucking rock.” You said.

She laughed and smiled.

—————

She explained everything to Chali when she woke them up the next morning. You hid in the bed, crying. You had thought so but she did confirm that she was eavesdropping the entire time. You didn’t mind though. She had your back and that was all that matters.

—————

Matty sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the framed picture he held in his hands. Your bright, innocent smile seemed to mock him, reminding him of the days when you would run into his arms after school, eager to share every detail of your day, no matter how mundane it was.

He thought about how you stood by him, through it all. It didn’t matter if it was family issues, band drama, or even his drug addiction. He loved the fact he didn’t have to pretend to be someone for you, not a rockstar, a perfect son or friend, just Dad, your Dad. And for a very very very long time, that was all you needed.

The house felt colder, quieter. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, and stood up.

It was time. Gabbriette had left for some errands earlier that morning, making a point to look your father dead in the eyes and telling him to ‘man up and do it.’ Truthfully, he couldn’t let another day pass without trying to bridge the gap between the two of you. With determined steps, he walked down the hallway to your room. He knocked gently on the door, the sound echoing louder than he anticipated in the silent house. “Baby? Can we talk?” he called, his voice wavering slightly. No response. He knocked again, a little louder this time.

“Baby girl, please. I just want to talk.”

Still nothing. He sighed, leaning his forehead against the door. “I’m coming in,” he said softly, turning the knob and pushing the door open.

You were sitting at your desk, your back to him, headphones on, absorbed in a sketchpad. Your long curly hair, nearly identical to the ones Matty used to embrace, cascaded down your back, slightly hiding your face from him. He took a step inside, the creak of the floorboard announcing his presence.

“Y/n?” he tried again, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t turn around. He could see your shoulders tense, though, and he knew you heard him. Guilt twisted in his stomach, but he pressed on.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. For everything.”

There was a flicker of movement; you paused your drawing but didn’t remove your headphones. Matty felt a pang of desperation.

“I know I’ve made mistakes. Big ones. And I know I’ve hurt you,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I was so caught up in my own problems that I didn’t see how it was affecting you. And for that, I’m truly sorry.”

He watched as your hand gripped the pencil tighter. It was a small reaction, but it was something. He took another step closer, now standing just a few feet behind you.

“I miss you,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I miss our talks, our laughs. I miss my daughter.”

Slowly, you reached up and removed your headphones, placing them carefully on the desk. You didn’t turn to face him, but your silence spoke volumes. Matty took it as an invitation to continue.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. Or even talk to me. I just… I just needed you to know how sorry I am.”

There was a long pause. Matty felt the weight of the silence pressing down on him, each second stretching into an eternity. He opened his mouth to say something else but then closed it, unsure of what more he could add.

Finally, you spoke, voice barely a whisper. “You can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay.”

Your words, though quiet, felt like a punch to his gut. He nodded, though you couldn’t see him. “I know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I know.”

“It’s not that simple, Dad,” Your voice broke slightly. “You hurt me. A lot.”

He felt tears welling up in his eyes. “I know I did. And I hate myself for it. But I love you, darling. More than anything in the world. You know that.”

You finally turned around, eyes red and filled with tears. You looked at him for a long moment, searching his face for something—truth, perhaps, or sincerity. Your dad held his breath, afraid to move, afraid to break whatever fragile connection you had in that moment.

“You said you regret having me,” you said, voice trembling. “That you wished I wasn’t here- How do you expect me to forgive that?”

His heart shattered at your words. He knelt down beside your chair, looking up at you. “Darling, I was wrong. I was so wrong. I was overwhelmed and stressed, and I lashed out in the worst possible way. I didn’t mean it. Not for a second.”

You looked up, blinking away the tears streaming down your face. “But you said it. You can’t just take it back.”

“I know,” he said, voice breaking. “I know I can’t. But please believe me when I say I didn’t mean it. I love you more than anything in this world. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

Matty felt desperation clawing at him. “I’ve been a terrible father, y/n. I let my own problems cloud my judgment. But I want to change. I need to change. For you. For us. That’s why maybe this whole engagement thing isn’t a bad idea?”

You sniffled again, giving a serious look, “I don’t hate Gabby.”

He sighed, “I know you don’t-“

“You really hurt me, Dad.” Your eyes were filled with pain and tears.

He nodded, tears streaming down his face. “I know, sweetheart. And I’m so, so sorry. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. Just… please give me a chance.”

You looked down at your work, fingers tracing the lines you’d drawn. Matty watched you, his heart aching for a sign of hope.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you said softly. “Not yet.”

Matty nodded, his heart heavy. “I understand,” he said gently. “I’m not asking you to. I just want you to know that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You looked at him, eyes searching his face. “Do you really mean it?” you asked, voice small. “That you’re sorry?”

Matty met your gaze, his eyes filled with tears, and smiled. “With all my heart,” he said. “I’m so, so sorry, my love.”

You held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded, a single tear sliding down your cheek. “Okay,” you whispered. “We’ll see.”

Matty smiled through his tears, a small, hopeful smile. It was a start, a glimmer of hope in the darkness. And for now, that was enough.

#I REALLY LIKE THIS ONE #THX ANONSSSSSSS #the 1975 #x daughter!reader #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x daughter!reader #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #george daniel

100 notes · View notes

sebsxphia · 2 months ago

Note

Sebbie dear, might I bring some Robert Reynolds/Sentry thoughts/thots?? They're freshly made and hot outta the oven (lol).

-Robert has a RAGING MED KINK. Even though he doesn't like the doctors at S.H.I.E.L.D feeling him up, he LOVES when you do it. You've got really warm hands which makes him purr like a cat (lol).

-The absolute BEST at French kissing. He's not super sloppy about it but he loves breathing into your mouth and feeling each other's breathy moans.

-After sex when you're snuggling, he's literally glowing. He has the most gorgeous deep golden aura that shows when he's really sleepy and content.

-Speaking of when you're snuggling, you love to kiss his chest and trail down his tummy just to hear him purr. He gets really giggly too if you hit the right spots.

-Robert's a hell of a good cook. Learned how to bake from his momma and learned how to cook from his dad. Although you do give him the side eye when he occasionally feeds Normie his table scraps (lol).

-Bath sex is amazing because you get to wash out that gorgeous hair of his while he's inside you.

-He'll literally lift you up and fly off the ground just to dance with you. One time he did it to "A Whole New World" from Aladdin and you were almost crying by the end of it.

ehehehe i’m giggling and kicking my feet so hard right now 🤭 sentry and his med kink! sentry and his med kink! oh, and his glowing aura too 🥹 it means more to you when you can physically see how content and happy he is with you. mphm. and the cockwarming whilst in the bath as you wash his hair… so perfect. thank you for these delicious thoughts, my love! 💌

#💌you’ve got mail #auroralightsthesky <33 #sentry

24 notes · View notes

maehwajuuuu-chu · 5 months ago

Text

[Aki • Kumiki Master]

"I...can't remember your name," Aki finally murmurs out, sedatives slurring her speech. "Your face is hard to remember too." The teenager looks back at her, bitterness twisting across his tired eyes. Fingers fiddle with the empty Inazuman vision frame, while the swallows faintly sing outside the window. The scent of rain lingers around the room — it had just stopped storming after all. Suddenly, a brilliant blue sky blooms in her hazy mind with childish laughter ringing amongst the dancing sakura petals. A boy jumps around with a wooden katana with an oversized hat propped on his silvery hair. "I, Ronin Rai of Narukami Island will overthrow the evil tyrant of the sea!" "Rai," she mutters, her gaze trailing to the silver locks that were twined into a thick braid. "I remember a boy with that name, he looked a lot like you...Is that you? Rai?" The boy's lips twitch — unlike the younger memory's sunny grin, they were unsmiling and chapped. Cold. "No, he was a character from a story we used to act out as kids." His gaze is fixed on the empty vision frame, knuckles almost growing white as fingers angrily curl around the frame. "But, if that's the only thing left of me in your memories, sure." Narrow violet-blue eyes meet Aki's own; bittersweet defeat and sorrow weighing in his expression. "I'm Rai." - - -

A/N: Man. Aki's splashart was one heck of a challenge (not good with glass) and probably one of the most stressful ones (I really went ah yes simple design, what if I make her splashart complex asf and proceeded to wither over it for nearly a month). There are still aspects that I am not fully satisfied with the splashart, but it was definitely an experience that was very beneficial for me!! And honestly, I do like it overall!! ANYWAYS, now lore is gonna get rolled out slowly eheheh — Aki is one of my favourites within the plotline and AUGH I need to hold myself back from yapping too much about her otherwise I'm spoiling the fic She's highly not ok, but she is trying with her equally also not ok wife (Seiren) -> Got the drip marketing background from @/chie_zuu on twitter! -> Got the wish background from @/Yumisarat on twitter!

-> Found the paper sheet online! (added the effects and etc myself ehe)

#genshin impact #genshin impact oc #genshin oc #digital art #character art #oc #oc: Aki #Liyue #Inazuma

42 notes · View notes

pillarmen-lover2080 · 1 year ago

Text

Octotrio and yuu 🩷

Omgggg I love octanvinelle so much! Sorry for being inactive for a little while~~

Warnings: Slight innuendos

Azul 💙🩵💜 :

Azul loves you. He really does. From your beautiful eyes to your sweet smile. He loves everything about you. He especially loves your voice. He hangs off of every word you say, listening to the tone of your voice and the way you pronounce things. He thinks to himself: "Ah my yuu...what a lovely voice you have. I wish I could listen to it forever....I wish I could make it mine forever..." Azul just wants to make you happy. He wants you to feel safe and secure around him. He wants you to want to stay with him and he'll achieve that tthrough spoiling you with gifts and treats from the Mostro Lounge. He may not be ready to say that he loves you, but he is more than willing to show it. Please love this man back.

Jade 💚💜🩵:

"Oya, what a sweet thing I have here...I am so lucky to have you, my dear~" Jade will coo all sorts of loving phrases towards you. You are his sweet Yuu after all. He loves watching you and listening to you talk about all the things that makes you happy. Jade is fully confident in himself and has no problem telling you just how much he loves you. "Oh my darling Yuu, you are my most treasured pearl", he'll say while holding you close. "So special that I just can't let you go!" Jade loves you so much and he intends to keep you forever.

Floyd 🩵💜💚:

"MY CUTE SHRIMPY!!!" Unlike Azul and Jade, Floyd is a wild card. Floyd is unpredictable with both words and actions. He may want to cuddle and then suddenly he wants to dance with you. It only matters that he wants to do everything with you, right? "Hehehehehe Shrimpy~ come cuddle with meeee", he will say while pulling you to his room. "I promise I don't bite...hehehe I just wanna squeeze ya real good!" Please just listen to the man. He fell for you and fell hard, now there is no escape. Floyd obviously things you're adorable. He thinks you're so small compared to him and squeezable. "Ehehehe I promise i won't be too rough~"

#twisted wonderland #floyd leech x reader #azul x reader #jade leech #jade x reader #floyd leech x y/n #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #octavinelle x reader #octotrio #jade leech x y/n #leech twins #leech brothers #twst fanfic #twst wonderland

272 notes · View notes

crystallizsch · 5 months ago

Note

*Note that this mini event takes place in the future, years after the character's have graduated and left Night Raven College. Lydia and Silver have two kids by the time they get married, Ryuumi (their adopted son, age 6) and Momo (their biological son, age 4) They live in Briar Valley (specifically in the house Lilia raised Silver in), with Lilia visiting/staying over often (he basically lives with them lol ♡)*

You open your mailbox one morning to find a letter, wrapped in twine and wild flowers. Your name was written neatly on the front, with small drawings in crayon surrounding it (done by a child). Inside the letter was an invitation, inviting you to a joyous occasion.

Lydia and Silver are getting married, and you're invited! ♡

The wedding and reception will be held outdoors, in the woods near their home (essentially their backyard lol ♡). The wedding will have chairs on each side of the aisle for guests to sit, decorated in soft pinks, blues, and gold (alongside the natural plant life). The reception will have tables and chairs, along with a dance floor and buffet (that will be catered).

Since this mini event takes place in the future, think of this as a fun opportunity to imagine what your OC and OC x Canon's future will be like! Maybe they're married, or have kids of their own? Or maybe they're separated, and have a reunion at the wedding?? 👀👀👀

Is your OC attending as a guest, or are they part of the wedding? Like a bridesmaid, or groomsman, or even being Lydia's hairstylist for the day! It's up to you ♡

There's no dress code/requirements either! It's moreso what you think your OC / OC x Canon would wear if they got invited to a wedding (or were apart of a wedding party!) ♡

Once people start responding to their invitations (whether it be with art, writing, etc) I'll write some scenarios to go along with it, and tag you when it's posted ♡

Thank you! ♡♡♡

AWH THIS IS SO CUTE 😭💖

of course yuusha accepts!! (also thanks for giving me an excuse for showing jamil and yuusha’s totally happy canon timeline post-NRC ehehehe)

Yuusha started working as staff at NRC after graduation (her job is still TBD but I still want her to be connected to Ramshackle dorm somehow but uh anyways-). She was also invited as a bridesmaid and a hairstylist.

Yuusha, upon receiving the invitation, immediately calls up Ace and Deuce and finds out that they have been invited as well. It seems that a lot of classmates back in NRC were also invited. It'll be a like a reunion.

Somehow the topic of Jamil got brought up. Yuusha had not talked to him after graduation. It was as if he just disappeared.

They promised they would keep in touch. But the messages from Jamil became less and less frequent until he never responded again.

And Yuusha had not thought about him. Until now.

♥️: Dude, why'd you have to bring him up?

♠️: Sorry! I was just wondering... But if I see him there I'm gonna-

♥️: Stop talking. Hey, Yuu. Call us when you need anything.

💜: ...Thanks, Ace. See ya both later.

Yuusha hung up the phone and sighed.

🐈‍⬛: So what did those bozos say.

💜: Nothing. It’s not a big deal, they just brought up Jamil.

🐈‍⬛: Yuu, I haven’t heard you say his name in years.

💜: You make it sound like he’s someone who musn’t be named.

🐈‍⬛: Because he is.

Yuusha throws her cup at Grim in frustration, knowing that the direbeast will just catch it with his magic.

💜: Do you think he’d even be there? Would he even… bother. He hasn’t reached out to me in years, why would he show now? Knowing I'll be there... Would he know I'll be there?

🐈‍⬛: Well if he shows up, I'll roast his butt like I did Kalim's all those years ago.

💜: We'll make that Plan B.

Yuusha collapsed back on her seat and stared at the invitation. She absentmindedly fiddles with the feather on her hair tie. No, his hair tie that she left him all those years ago.

After a long moment of contemplating and just letting the feelings sink in, she managed to promptly make the feeling fade away. Yuusha found herself giggling.

🐈‍⬛: What's suddenly so funny? Are you finally losing it?

💜: .....Hey, do you think we can bring [REDACTED] as a plus one?

🐈‍⬛: That was a quick switch-up. That birdbrain? Yuu, what do you even see in them.

💜: They’re charming, okay.

🐈‍⬛: Here we go again.

💜: Shut it. Just let me have this.

🐈‍⬛: If it makes my henchhuman happy then sure.

#[—✦ chatting #-✧ lovely writing by others #-✧ my art #(💜) yuusha #postnrc💜#-✦—]#I CAN NEVER MAKE THEM HAPPY HELP #also iago oc mention ehe #no i still have zero plans for them other than yuusha’s future love interest (and jamil’s childhood best friend)#“what is with you and love triangles”#<- SHHHHHH LEAVE ME ALONE #also. SHEEP WHEN YOU DO A RESPONSE YOU CAN IGNORE THE WHOLE IAGO OC SUBPLOT AHGKLDS #i just wanted to include it just for fun

29 notes · View notes

chernabogs · 2 years ago

Note

Hi Ames 👀🫶

First, giving you smooches as congrats for your 100 follower milestone :3💖

I saw your prompt list and I was like ANGST POTENTIAL with all the prompt lines, but I picked some out with a more fluff mood in mind~

May I please request a Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader fluff read where there’s a storm on Sage Island and Leona’s been helping reader with their homework at Ramshackle but he can’t go back to his dorm bc of the storm

So he has to stay in Ramshackle over night with reader ehehehe

Here are the prompt lines I picked out:

- “The storm’s getting worse”

- “You look better in my clothes than I do”

- “You snore in your sleep. It’s adorable”

- “Sorry to put you through that. I guess I owe you one now”

Take ur time and if you can’t do mine, no worries :)

TYYYYY <3 <3 I love some good Leona content... I wrote him once but I'm ready to go again LKNAJF

Lights Out

Inc: Leona x Reader (GN), Ruggie (briefly) Warning: None! Not really romantic, but like... semi vibes. Sneaky vibes. If you squint you see them. WC: 2.6k Summary: An agreement to help you study leads to an unexpected situation when the weather turns sour

The weather had been kind for the entire week, and so Leona should have assumed by default that it was all a ruse. He had agreed (under some pressure from both your dire expression and Ruggies repetitive pestering) to assist you with your ancient curse’s homework—which really means he’s going to sit there and watch you while only offering a few scraps of information. He can’t make it too easy for you, no?

The sky had been cloud free—as blue as a robin's egg, with the softest of breezes dancing across campus as the early spring began to wake from her slumber. He had spent a good portion of the day dealing with his classes and dozing in between after having sent you a brief reassurance that he’d still come in the evening. It was beautiful—glorious, even—until 6 o’clock hit.

Then, like hell from above, a mass of storm clouds rolled in out of nowhere. The school alert system cited it as an unprecedented phenomenon, and as Leona glares out the window at the torrential downpour beyond, he wonders just how much of it is the fault of Diasomnia’s House warden. It feels like even the slightest of moods sends the man bringing down hail and fury with little regard. His tail twitches in irritation as he lets out another low sigh.

“What’s the curse that turned that emperor into an animal again?” Your voice causes him to glance at your reflection in the window. He can see that you’re still hunched over the ancient curse’s textbook, your brow set in a furrow as your pen taps steadily against the kitchen table’s surface. “He had to go through a whole life-lesson thing to undo it…”

“He undid it with a counter-poison.” Leona hums as another flash of lightning splits across the sky, briefly brightening the room you’re both in before dying down once more. “He coulda stayed the same and still be able to change back.”

“That defeats the purpose, no?” He hears you setting your pen down and leaning back in your chair as he continues to alternate his gaze between you and the storm above. “If there was a purpose to begin with…”

“The purpose was his death.” He turns away from the window and finally sinks back down in the seat across from you, his eyes closing and his head tilting back. “His advisor wanted him dead, so she figured cursing him would be a way to do it. Curses like that have been around since magic was still taboo.”

“Yikes.” Your eloquent reply causes him to scoff as he listens to the sounds of the rain hitting Ramshackle's walls. Despite renovations being done, the acoustics of your dorm are still off-kilter, making him constantly pick up sounds that he shouldn’t be able to hear.

The scratching of your pen accompanies the rainstorm, and then soon stops as he hears you shuffling around. “... the storm’s getting worse.”

At that, he does open his eyes again, looking to the window with a frown. It’s pitch black outside, but he can see the relentless onslaught of rain against the windows glass. He pulls out his phone and turns it on; there are two missed messages from Ruggie, a slew of them from the group he has with the other House-wardens—he admits he is curious how many others are questioning Draconia—, and then one from his brother that he deliberately swipes away.

“Seems like it won’t be letting up tonight.” Leona’s frown deepens as he reads Ruggie's messages. It’s a system that will be hovering over the entire island until mid-morning tomorrow. All students are being advised to shelter in place until it passes. “Shit…”

“What?” You look up at him, your eyebrows raised. He sets his phone back down and fixes you with an unimpressed look.

“The school put out a shelter in place notice until the storm ends—no students to leave the place that they’re at right now.” At those words, the lights in the room flicker for a moment before going out entirely, leaving the both of you sitting in complete darkness.

Leona can still see fine, and he watches (with some amusement) how your eyes go wide in surprise and your breath catches in your throat.

“Did something hit a line?” You’re quick to rise and peer out the window. Most of the dorms rely on magic to power their electric devices, such as with Ignihyde, but Ramshackle is old enough to still run on original lines. His lips twist into a frown as he remains seated while you gawk out the window in interest.

“If it did, then there’s no use stressin’. It’ll be restored whenever someone gets around to it—after the storm.”

He personally doesn’t mind sitting in the dark. Granted, Ramshackle still is an ominous dorm to be in—with its ghost infestation and such—but there’s also a sense of peace present that can very easily let him drift off to a nap. If he needs to be on lock down in this place, he doubt’s it’ll bother him too much.

That is if you let him sleep in the first place.

“I mean I guess we can just light some candles and stick it out?” You look back at him as another flash of lightning breaks across the sky, illuminating your form only briefly. He can still see your eyes are wide in surprise, and your breath is quick—either from the shock of the lights going out, or a fear of the storm toiling outside.

He checks his phone again and notes that you’ve been going at it for nearly four hours now. He’s never had to pull an all-nighter for a test—lessons come easily to him without effort, after all—and a part of him wonders if that’s what your intent is. If so, he certainly won’t be staying up alongside you.

“You do that. I’m gonna stake out that couch over there.” He scoffs as he undoes his vest. It won’t be the most comfortable to sleep in uniform, but it’s not like he packed an overnight bag in preparation for your study session. He finishes unbuttoning the vest and stands, stretching upwards for a moment before letting out another sigh. “Try not to drive yourself nuts shoving all this information in there.”

“Grims lucky he went to Heartslabyul tonight…” you mumble. He watches as you go to the nearby closet to pull out some candles before he maneuvers himself around to lie back on the foyer couch. He can hear you bumping into tables and chairs as you navigate in the darkness before finally the faint, flickering glow of a candle being lit tells him you’ve survived in one piece. His eyes close and he lets himself fall into a state of comfort as he listens to the sounds of papers turning and pens scratching.

…

But he can’t fall asleep.

This is both inconvenient and unusual for him. It becomes apparent that, with the power getting knocked out, the furnace in Ramshackle has also broken down, leaving the dorm to gradually become colder and colder with each passing moment. He opens one eye to glare at the ceiling above as he can feel goosebumps rising on his arm.

“D’you have a spare blanket or something?” He finally asks, sitting up to peer at you from over the edge of the couch. You glance his way, your face bathed in candlelight, before you hum.

“Mmm, not one that doesn’t smell like mold, no…” you reply slowly. Leona’s expression sours at your comment as you set your pen down and stand up. “One second... I think I have something that might work.”

As you pick up a candle and vanish to the upper floors of the dorm, he lies back on the couch to stare at the ceiling above. The remaining candles cast odd shadows about the room, and the slow ticking of a nearby grandfather clock proves to be both soothing and anxiety-inducing as the seconds pass by. His tail twitches once more as he listens to the sounds of creaking footsteps coming back down to the foyer.

“Here.” He feels something soft hit his stomach and he grabs it by reflex. It’s a black hoodie—almost his size. “I won it at one of the school festivals. I don’t wear it often, so it’s clean.”

Leona stares at it for a long moment. The front has an image of the NRC mascot drawn in a cartoon form while holding the set of keys he often sees on the headmaster’s hip. It feels like something he’d expect Idia to keep stashed in a closet, not you.

Still, it’s something warm, and with some small grumbles of protest, he pulls it on and tightens the drawstrings. He’s sitting upright on the couch and glaring at the wall when he hears you chuckle to his right. One sharp glance, and he can see you watching him with a cheeky grin from the table, your ancient curses homework still strewn about.

“You know, you look better in that than I do. All that’s needed is some holes for your ears in the hood, and then you’re golden.”

“Keep talking.” He threatens in a deadpanned tone, earning a laugh from you as you look back to your homework. You know that he’ll never actually do anything to you—after all, by getting him to agree to come to your dorm in the first place, you already know you’ve won him over to some extent.

He watches you from over the edge of the couch for a moment longer. The furrow in your brow, the way you tap the pen against your paper in a rhythm, the way you occasionally bite your lip while in thought. He seriously wonders why he agreed to come and help you in the first place. It isn’t like he enjoys school, and he’s certainly never considered helping someone with their schoolwork before. He wants to say it was solely Ruggie’s off-handed comments and deliberate looks, but he can’t shake the image of your distressed expression out of his mind when you asked him.

Pity. It’s definitely out of pity that he’s shown up tonight. Ruggie just added fuel to the fire, that’s all.

But still, he can’t shake the sense of unease that stirs in his chest as he watches you for a moment longer before lying back down, his hand coming to rest on his abdomen as he did. The hoodie smells vaguely of you, and it does little to alleviate this feeling. He watches the shadows dance across the ceiling and listens to the sound of you working for a moment longer before he finally finds his eyes closing once more.

It takes him a while, but eventually he falls into the shadows of an uneasy slumber.

—---

When he opens his eyes, he’s greeted to the sound of a dove cooing. At first his mind doesn’t register where he is, and he feels a sharp sense of adrenaline rushing when he doesn’t see the familiar ceiling of his dorm room above him. Then the memories of last night come back—the power going out, the candles, your off-handed comment about him wearing your clothes—and he feels himself relaxing once more.

“You snore in your sleep, you know.”

Leona’s attention snaps to where you sit in the chair across from him. You’re nursing a hot cup of something in your hands as you watch him with a tired smirk. You pulled an all-nighter—he can tell by the slight bloodshot tint in your eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s kind of adorable.”

“Adorable?” His brow furrows as he sits up, stretching forward and looking towards the nearest window. The sky above is a splash of pink and orange with the coming dawn. He can see the very same dove that he heard sitting on the windowsill, peering in with its beady eyes at the oddly domestic image of you both. “Don’t go annoying me with those kinds of comments so early in the morning.”

“Sorry. I’ll be sure to reserve my next compliment for the afternoon.” Another cheeky little grin plays on your lips, and he tries to ignore how the sight of it makes that uneasy feeling return. He averts his gaze once more as he shifts to rise from the couch. He’s still wearing your hoodie.

It feels nice.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” After he composes himself and becomes fully aware of reality again, he glances at you once more. You sigh and lower your mug with a frown.

“I mean, somewhat? I dozed off at the table a few times, but I was working on getting through four units of text before the afternoon class.”

“And did you?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “Get through the four units, I mean.”

“Three. Best I can do.” You chuckle in turn.

“Which unit did you miss?”

Your expression becomes one of thought before your eyes light up again. “I couldn’t get to the unit about impacts of curses on modern law. I tried to start it, but as soon as the court transcripts started popping up, my mind just completely tapped out. Legalese is not my strong suit.”

Leona chuckles slightly at that. He doubts legalese is anyone’s strong suit, save for Azul, who uses it in contracts, or Riddle, who just uses it in general. “And your test for this is…?”

“This afternoon.” You sigh. “I’ll just take the loss. I’m sure Ace, Deuce, and Grim will be sinking with me, at least.”

He ruminates on your words for a moment. There’s no denying that you worked your ass off to try and learn as much about ancient curses as possible. He saw the three notebooks of notes that you were skimming through, and the fact that you’re sitting here looking dead on the couch makes that small spark of something start up again.

Pity. It’s pity, he tells himself.

“You look pathetic.” He grumbles as he stretches his back. “Tell you what. Lemme get back to Savanaclaw, now that the freak storm is done, and I’ll loan you my notes for that unit. Loan.”

He emphasizes the last word with a pointed look. Despite how hard you’ve worked so far, he can’t make it too easy for you, no? Your eyes widen again in that comically surprised expression.

“Oh, you don’t have to—” you begin, but he silences your words with another sharp glance. A small, grateful look then replaces the one of surprise as you sink back into the seat. “... sorry to put you through that, then. I guess I owe you one now.”

“Well, I’m not gonna hold it over you like some people might.” He sighs. “But I’ll be keeping this sweater for now. I’m not looking to freeze to death before I reach the mirror chamber from here.”

You nod quickly. “Yeah! Please. Just give it back whenever. Or don’t, you know. I don’t mind.”

Your words falter awkwardly, and he can’t keep his lips from curling upwards a bit in amusement. “Right. Meet me back at the mirror chamber in thirty, then—and don’t make me wait, herbivore. I have things to do today.”

Things being spelldrive practice—but he has a feeling you already know that. You grant him a sunny smile, which makes his chest ache once more, before offering a grateful wave. “Sure! Thanks again, Leona.”

He ignores the way you saying his name gets to him as he shrugs dismissively before moving to the front door. “Don’t mention it. Seriously.”

#twst x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twst leona #leona kingscholar #gn reader #thank youuuuuu

229 notes · View notes

gingerteaonthetardis · 5 months ago

Note

🔀 twelve x rose AND fifteen x rose ehehehe

your song is #34 🔀 giving in to the love by aurora

The club floor is packed tight tonight, flooded with bodies escaping the London cold—with light and motion—with sound that shakes the very atoms of his body until every inch of his skin feels electrified. Paper thin, newly born, but glinting like diamond.

He tips his head back as he dances, the strobing off the disco balls overhead making his vision spark and blur and white-out. It's amazing, he thinks, the silly tricks the body will play with so much sensory input. How the rhythm can change even the beating of his hearts. How he can see something so impossible in just a flash.

A blonde head. A memory made real.

He blinks his eyes open again, and it's not her—of course it couldn't be—but this girl is familiar to him in a different way. Newly so. Smiling fondly down at the dance floor, nursing her drink with strange patience, as if she has nowhere better to be, nothing else she'd rather be doing.

He grins up at her, and she sees him. Grins back.

He spins again, kilt flaring out around him, feeling wild with anticipation. There's something about this girl, about the way time has shaped itself around her, that makes him feel energized again, awake as he hasn't felt in… perhaps a long time, too long—

Someone bumps his arm.

“Oh! Sorry,” says a familiar voice, just loud enough to be heard over the driving beat.

A familiar voice.

It would perhaps be melodramatic—not to mention inaccurate—to say that time slows down. But the Doctor stops dancing, stops moving or breathing. He can only stare down into the face he knows so well.

She's probably in her late thirties at this point, maybe early forties? She’s older than his current body, certainly. There are delicate lines around her eyes, which are as bright and clear as he remembers, and around her mouth. Her hair is still blonde, but threaded into her ever-present brown roots are a few distinct flecks of silver, catching the light, twinkling back at him like holiday tinsel.

He can't say a word, but he finds his lips spreading into an even wider, more joyous smile.

Her head tilts, examining him. The motion sends a funnel of light bouncing off of her necklace, and he remembers giving it to her—remembers finding it at a market somewhere, so perfect for Rose. A series of gold rings interlocking, orbiting two tiny chips of Arvelian ruby.

He'd never said it, but he'd really never needed to. She'd understood she carried his hearts.

“Oh,” she repeats, glancing down at her necklace, then back up at him, expression clearing into something so sunny and bright. “It's you.”

The recognition, however impossible, breaks the hold on him and suddenly he's reaching for her, dragging her into an ecstatic, bouncing hug.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” he laughs. “I can't believe it's actually you. Rose!” The hug quickly transforms into something else: his hands clasp her elbows, her fingers settle on his forearms, grip on each other firm as he spins her around, bringing her into the dance. Her skirt flares out around her, red as her very merry lipstick. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, you're just over there,” she answers, a little breathless, smiling toward the bar, “getting me a drink. I'm making you pay.”

The Doctor snorts. “Oh, I doubt that. Think I would remember buying you drinks. Also think I would remember carrying money,” he adds, cackling to himself, and Rose falls into it like she always does, giggling conspiratorially at his oddities. “How are you? What have you been up to?”

One of her defined brows cocks. “Not sure I'm supposed to tell you that.”

“Yes, well, you've never done what you're supposed to. Have you?"

And there it is: a flash of her pink tongue at the corner of her smile. A pang shoots all through him. He's always assumed there were details he'd lose, eventually, pieces of her that would fade with the years, no matter how determined he was to hold on to them. It's an inevitable thing.

But it pains and pleases him in equal measure to know he's remembered this exactly as it was. Is.

She must see something in his eyes, because her smile softens. Their frenetic dance slows. “It’s our honeymoon,” she admits, thumbs rubbing a soft circle over his inner elbow. “Universal tour.”

“Ah, yes. I remember. Cheaper than a cruise.”

“And I've got the best tour guide a girl could ask for.” Her eyes sparkle, containing the reflection of every star they've ever visited.

“Well, I'm honored to be part of your universal tour,” he says, suddenly abashed, releasing her arms for a moment so he can stoop into a bow, and Rose's laughter hangs in the moment the song changes—fills the silence, a song all its own.

When he rights himself, though, Rose is no longer alone.

A new song, fresh and upbeat, flows out from the speakers.

He's in front of himself, grey-headed and blue-eyed and still marvelously Scottish. Glowering, just a little, from over Rose's shoulder. There's a notable absence of drinks in his hands.

He smiles in response. “Hey there, old man.”

“Well, this is just fantastic,” the other Doctor grouses. “At this rate, I'll not get to remember anything from my own honeymoon!”

“We've had a few run-ins,” Rose explains, voice lowering a little. She steps closer to be heard, and her perfume strikes him like a pair of darts to the hearts. “Past and future. I sort of think the TARDIS is doing it on purpose.”

“Oh, she so would,” he chuckles. Raising his voice, the Doctor gestures toward his past self. “Come on, dance with us, old man.” He swivels his hips, arms outstretched invitingly. “Show us your moves!”

“I like this you,” Rose declares. “You remind me a bit of Jack.”

“Only sexier?”

There's that tongue-touched smile again. “Much sexier.”

“I'll tell him you said so,” he teases, raising his arm over her head so she can twirl toward his other self.

She just gasps a laugh. “Don't you dare!”

The other Doctor's eyes are on them, of course. Not jealous, maybe, but certainly aware of all the ways they are different. All the ways this him and this Rose are the same.

And even now, he remembers—not this moment, but what it was like. To be that him. Born with a life already carved in. He remembers how much energy and potential there was inside him, and how Rose brought out of him whenever she could, even if everywhere they went, everyone constantly assumed he was just some gruff old man.

But that had never mattered to him. Not really.

He'd loved being that man, even when it was hard. Rose helped him love being that man. He thinks it's her direct influence that taught him to like himself at all.

He watches, staggered and smiling, as Rose reaches for her new husband, tugging him into their odd little circle. The grey-haired Time Lord shoots her a look, as privately tender as it is outwardly irritated. Then he kisses her knuckles and says, "Well, then. Let's dance."

They must look outrageous: a young man in a kilt, an old man dressed like a magician, and a blonde woman in between, throwing her smiles and laughter and adoring looks between them freely. Sometimes peeling off to dance more with one, or with the other. Eventually, the Doctor even waltzes himself across the dance floor; they take turns at leading, to moderate success.

Once, he catches his old self's wild, wide smile.

Though it cannot last forever, or even all night, there is a chemistry that flows between all of them—no awkwardness, no fear, no grief over what will one day be lost.

Just love.

prompt me!

#this was supposed to be short... but it got so long. RIP #i just could not get enough of fifteen and rose having their lil reunion <3 #anyway assume that fifteen goes to ACTUALLY get rose a drink and that's when he sees ruby's glass wobble and goes to meet her!#ALSO this was not edited so please forgive any mistakes #dw fic #timepetals #twelverose #twelve x rose #fifteenrose #fifteen x rose #abbey.txt #twelfth doctor #rose tyler #fifteenth doctor

22 notes · View notes