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sanjisleggy · 25 days ago

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imagine being loved by me (sanji x reader) [pt2]

PART 1

a/n: here’s part 2 to ‘welcome to cupid island’ :D yippee! lowkey i wanna turn this into a larger series but i have no idea what i'd wanna add lmao but if people are interested in more of this reader x sanji dynamic i’d be happy to consider :3c imma add a poll at the end of this post to see what’s the reception like. anyway pls enjoy!

also pls send some zoro requests if u have any, ty :3c

contents: some suggestive themes but nothing explicit (16+ only ty!), jealous sanji, very insecure sanji, angst to fluff, hurt/reverse comfort

wc. 2.25k

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he imagines you would have an amazing life.

he imagines after you accept the proposal, you would be transformed into a beautiful queen, both regaled by your countless servants and beloved by your people. he can practically see right in front of him how King Aphr would worship the very ground you walked on, kiss the soles of your feet and the palms of your soft hands every night before ravishing you under the sheets until your eyes fill with tears of pleasure–things a mere pirate cook could never provide.

he imagines in a few years you would have two beautiful children: a girl and a boy, of course. they would be spitting images of you–or maybe one of them would have their father’s fluffy brown hair or gorgeous eyes. whatever the genetic combination, Sanji doesn’t doubt they would be absolutely beautiful solely because they came from you.

he imagines you living the life you deserve above everyone else on this godforsaken planet: happy, loved and safe from the dangers that come with life on the sea. you’d live a long life and be left wanting for nothing.

it’s a life Sanji cannot give you.

“oh. no, thanks.” your response to the kneeling crown prince is curt with your mouth hidden behind your hand to obscure the fact that you’re mid-chew. “i’m not interested.”

the matter-of-factness of your tone rips Sanji straight out of his self-deprecating nightmare as his head snaps in your direction. still holding his hand, you give it a soft squeeze as you maintain eye contact with your latest suitor. the entire restaurant is dead silent and even the wait staff are frozen in place, trays of freshly prepared gourmet food left to slowly cool before they can even be touched.

the Prince doesn’t hide his disappointment but he takes it better than any of the Straw Hats anticipated. if anything, they were all prepared for a fight but instead, the man simply apologises for disrupting your dinner and takes his leave. once he’s gone, you swallow your food before turning to meet Sanji’s eyes with your own. you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest when you see how teary he looks; you give his hand another squeeze before bringing the back of it to your lips and give him a soft kiss.

“we can talk about this later,” is the message your eyes convey to him and he nods in response.

although business gradually goes back to normal and the usual dining room chatter resumes, you and your group finish the rest of your meal with an odd sense of awkwardness encompassing the establishment. much to your–and Sanji’s–pleasure, however, it seems that your rejection of the Prince’s proposal is enough to ward off any other suitors, at least for the rest of dinner.

ii.

whilst some of your crewmates opt to sleep in early or explore the night market, you and your usual group of drinking buddies head to the hotel’s bar. out of habit, you find a table with four seats for Nami, Robin, Zoro and yourself, though you soon realise your mistake when you notice Sanji’s still holding onto your hand.

“what? not gonna chase skirts tonight, shitty cook?” Zoro speaks your mind. the blond chef’s grip on your hand tightens slightly.

“no, of course not, you stupid mosshead.” Sanji doesn’t elaborate any further but everyone knows the reason why: news of your rejection of the Prince hasn’t spread far enough yet, it seems, and already new faces are peering your way, presents in hand.

less than an hour passes and you’re not the only person who’s been approached by suitors: every one of your Straw Hat companions has been accosted at least three times. you try to keep count but eventually lose track when you reach double digits.

“it seems like they’re more desperate as the week comes to an end,” Robin observes, mumbling into her glass after turning down her fifteenth admirer.

“desperate’s putting it lightly,” Zoro replies, growing more visibly annoyed as the minutes pass and he can’t seem to enjoy one drink without a man or woman shyly sneaking up on him with more homemade cookies. “they’re even going after the shitty cook, they must be more than desperate,” he adds with a snort, clearly happy to take up any opportunity possible to rile up your boyfriend.

though you can tell Zoro’s ‘joke’ bugs him, Sanji remains quiet, opting to just shoot the swordsman a sharp glare from across the round table.

“here comes another one,” Nami groans, praying she’s not the target.

unfortunately for you, her wish comes true.

Zoro’s guard dog comparison from earlier in the day rings true yet again when the man taps your shoulder to get your attention. before you can even turn to look at what they look like, Sanji’s head snaps around first. although there’s an unmistakable look of pure rage in his eyes as he scowls at the man that makes the suitor almost instantly break out into a cold sweat, the cook’s grip on your hand remains the same gentleness as always.

“fuck off!” Sanji barks, subtlety be damned. your companions each react in a similar manner, choking on their respective drinks to some degree. you even catch Zoro murmuring to himself, “goddamn.” valuing his life, the stranger turns tail and disappears in a matter of seconds.

half a minute passes and the same bitter expression is stuck to your beloved’s face. your free hand reaches up to his head before you run your fingers through his soft hair. the gesture alone seems enough to snap him back to reality as his scowl melts away to be replaced by a small smile. Sanji closes his eyes and lets out a breath, tensed shoulders relaxing as you continue to caress his head. your hand slowly trails down his face before stopping to rest on his shoulder, your palm wrapped around the base of his neck, thumb rubbing along the edge of his sharp jawline.

your gentle ministrations send his heart into overdrive, the fragile organ threatening to beat so fast and so hard that it shatters his ribcage into nothingness. despite having known you for so long, he can’t ever seem to get used to your love.

“what a coincidence seeing you here, miss (Y/N),” a familiar voice speaks from behind you. from the looks on your crewmates’ faces, you can already tell you’re not the only one sick and tired of this island’s tradition. before anyone–even Sanji–can react to the blatant interruption, you stand up abruptly and turn around to face Prince Aphr. donning a smile, he’s dressed differently than when you first met him at dinner but his expensive clothes only serve to annoy you even further.

“i’ll only say this one more time, your highness,” you say through gritted teeth, days’ worth of built up irritation finally spilling over the edge and the unlucky target of your wrath just has to be the son of the ruler of the island–but you find it hard to care. “i’m not interested and i’ll never be interested. now, please leave me and my friends alone.”

Sanji stares up at you from his seat with his eyes wide and lips slightly parted. the last time you looked this angry was when an enemy pirate kicked Chopper like a soccer ball–and you’d gone on an absolute rampage back then. however, it seems that due to Prince Aphr’s lack of experience witnessing such devastation, he chooses to press on. as much as Sanji would love to diable jambe his royal ass, both him and the rest of the Straw Hats present at the table know you’re fully capable of handling this yourself.

“may i at least ask what it might take for you to even consider my proposal?” the prince asks. he’s either an extremely convincing actor or he’s genuinely so dense he doesn’t actually realise you’re in a relationship with the man right beside you.

“nothing.” your response seems to take him aback. “you could offer me the entire world on a silver platter and my answer would still be the same. my family is my crew and i’ve already met the love of my life.”

Sanji realises at that moment that a small part of him expected you to give an answer the prince could fulfill. when the finality of your words hits him, he can’t help the tears welling up in his eyes as his heart sinks to impossibly low depths.

you said it all with such ease, so little effort. have i ever done the same for you? what kind of man have i been?

iii.

Sanji twiddles his thumbs as he sits on the king sized bed, listening intently to the sound of the shower running. when it stops and he hears the slight creak of the shower door opening, he’s overcome with a great sense of anxiety, knowing that time will not stop just because he needs more time to gather his thoughts.

a few minutes later, you exit from the bathroom in a fluffy white robe, the smell of your shampoo washing over the entire hotel room. with a satisfied hum, you crawl across the bed to sit beside him.

“so,” you say gently as you grab one of his hands to play with his long fingers, “you wanna talk about anything?” the moment his eyes meet yours, all the words he painstakingly prepared to say slip right through his fingers.

you’re so beautiful.

Sanji opens his mouth but is unable to speak, he can only breathe and stare as you patiently wait for him to let everything out.

i don’t deserve you.

you tilt your head slightly and hum, as though trying to remind him that you’re still there. you look at him with such pure adoration, he wonders if you’re even looking at him.

but i want you and i want your love more than anything. so please–

“don’t leave me,” Sanji finally manages to choke out, hot tears now streaming down his face. days’ worth of anger and worry finally catches up to him and he can’t do anything but slump forward to bury his face in your midsection. his lanky arms curl around your waist in a desperate attempt to hold you there, just in case you decide you don’t want him anymore.

“hey, who said anything about leaving you, my sweet boy?” you say with a light chuckle but it does nothing to hide the heaviness in your voice. you wrap your arms around his head, hugging him closer to your stomach as he sobs into your bathrobe. running your fingers of one hand through his hair just the way he likes, you continue, “what makes you think that?”

“Prince Aphr can give you everything.” Sanji pulls his head away just enough to speak clearly but not far enough to break away from your warm embrace. “and i can’t. up until we arrived here–ever since we started dating–i couldn’t even stop flirting with women right in front of you and for what?!”

you shush him when he starts to raise his voice and you feel his fingers tighten their grip on the back of your bathrobe. “it’s okay–”

“no, it’s not,” he cuts you off. “how am i supposed to call myself yours if i can’t even treat you with the respect you deserve? i’m sorry, (Y/N), i’m so sorry i took for granted how open you are with the way i am around other women. just seeing the way so many people wanted to steal you away these past few days, and how you turned them all down, made me realise i’ve been a shitty boyfriend–”

deciding that you’ve heard enough, you lean back to separate his face from your body and use your hands to gently tilt his head up so that your eyes meet. Sanji stares almost pitifully up at you, his own hands still holding on for dear life onto your robe as his long legs splay out behind him across the large bed.

“you’re far from a shitty boyfriend, my love,” you sniffle, feeling tears of your own forming in your eyes, “you take such good care of me. you feed me anything i want, fuss over me when i’m sick, protect me in battle. you always let me shower first aboard the Sunny so i get all the hot water.” cupping his face in between your palms, you rub the pads of your thumbs across his cheeks, wiping away his tears. “you look at me like i hung the stars and the moon in the sky,” you say with a choked laugh, unable to help feeling a bit embarrassed admitting such a thing aloud, “sometimes i don’t even know how to live up to that.”

Sanji takes in a shaky breath as he nuzzles his face into your right hand so you lightly scratch his scalp with your left. the sensation pleases him so much he swears he nearly starts purring.

“how did i get so lucky?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“how did i get so lucky?” you reply with a laugh before leaning down to brush your lips against his forehead.

already Sanji feels the aching in his heart slowly fade away, leaving behind a soreness that’s sure to persist but he’s certain that it, too, will disappear over time as long as you’re by his side.

–

tags: @mlpandr63 @wifeofladyqu @strawberrysanzu @qui-sap @secretlife028 @the-avengers-not-the-nazis @peachycat17 @xiaothedgyemo @chaseyui @certain-tragedies @amei-draws-stuff @carmen-skullz @cobainlover @lara-christensen-me @shondlenoodle @teewon @makingmammonmoves @carmendanny2

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x yn #one piece x you #op x reader #imagine #fanfic #op #sanji x reader #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #opla x reader #one piece live action x reader

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starcrossed-lov3rz · 7 months ago

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The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 5

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, description of a panic attack, mild angst, mentions of smut

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, arguments, Caraxes, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra is trying her best out here

Words: 2.3K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

You shiver, pulling the sheets tighter around your naked form. Warmth clung to the bedsheets from Rhaenyra and Daemon, but as you blindly felt for your lovers…they were nowhere to be found. Sighing, you try to warm up and fall back asleep, but the damage was already done. “So much for sleeping in,” you mumble, wiping your eyes and yawning.

A muffled noise filters into the room, and you slip out of bed to investigate. Hushed voices are coming from the adjoining room. You can make out Daemon and Rhaenyra’s voices, but not their words. A twinge of guilt hits you as you press your ear to the door. You should probably go back to bed, they wouldn’t have left if they didn’t want privacy for their conversation. But some rational voice in the back of your mind rooted your feet to the ground–logically, their conversation had to be about you.

“We cannot keep them away forever,” Daemon hissed. “Sooner or later, they are going to realize that these ‘diplomacy missions’ are simply meant to deter them from King’s Landing.”

Your brows furrow….who are they sending on diplomacy missions? Rhaenyra had introduced you to the entirety of her small council. They were all well accounted for in the Red Keep. “Daemon, I refuse to have them here while y/n is in this state.”

“My queen, the children have already begun sending ravens. If you wait any longer they will send dragons.”

“She did not remember us, Daemon,” Rhaenyra’s voice raised. “You remember how you felt those first weeks? How do you think the children will react when they find out their mother does-”

“Mother?!” you throw the door open, eyes wide in shock. Both Rhaenyra and Daemon whip around to see you.

“My lo-”

“No,” you hiss, cutting Rhaenyra off. “Don’t ‘my love’ me. When were you going to tell me we had children?!” Your mind races. You had children? With Rhaenyra and Daemon? What if they’re both right? What if your other life is just some figment of your imagination–the result of some traumatic brain injury you sustained in a fall?

Daemon steps towards you, hands up as if you’re some wild animal ready to bolt. “Breathe.”

You can’t focus. Your chest is heaving with every breath. Your eyes dart around as you struggle to ground yourself. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Fuck, what if it’s not real? What if you’re not real?

“Daemon-”

Arms wrap around you, a hand moving to the back of your head to pull you, face-first, into Daemon’s chest. You tremble, unable to even vocalize sobs as silent tears trail down your cheeks. Rhaenyra hugs you, hands squeezing your waist in silent support. “Let it out,” Daemon murmurs. “We will stay as long as you need.” He bows his head, placing a kiss at the crown of your head.

You have no idea how long the three of you stand there. When you finally regain your composure, you lightly push them back. Neither of them speak; they both simply stare at you, waiting for you to say something. “I want to see them.”

“Absolutely not.”

“We leave at once.”

Daemon and Rhaenyra answer at the same time, heated looks exchanged.

“My love, you’re in no state to meet them,” Rhaenyra says. “How are we to tell the children you do not remember them?”

“They will understand,” Daemon argues. “They are her flesh and blood. Seeing them might even help her remember who she is.”

“How am I supposed to ever remember them if you never allow me to meet them?” you cut the tension between them. “At least let me make new memories.” You grab Rhaenyra’s hands, pleading.

Rhaenyra sighs, kissing your hand quickly. “I cannot go with you, but it is an afternoon’s ride by dragonback to the children.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, dropping her hands to hug her tightly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I don’t remember our family. I’m sorry I remember another life. I’m sorry I can’t be be-”

“Hush,” Nyra says, “it’s not your fault. We should be apologizing for keeping this from you. We thought if we waited, things would return…to normal.” You choke back a sob at that. Normal.

“What if they hate me?”

Daemon snorts before Rhaenyra can offer any encouragement. “Hardly. Lucerys threatened to melt the iron throne if he had to go another month without seeing you.”

“My darling wife, our children could never hate you,” she assured. “Daemon and Caraxes will return you safely to me by the morrow.”

You kiss Rhaenyra deeply, running to get dressed. “What do I wear for a flight?” you call to them.

“Clothes are recommended,” Daemon teases, “but they are always optional around me.”

“You are such an ass sometimes, my love,” you chide, rummaging through the drawers. You slide on a pair of trousers and throw a thick gown over your head. “Lace me up.”

Daemon rolls his eyes, but laces up your gown anyway. “You are going to freeze if you don’t grab a cloak.” His fingers make quick work of your laces before moving to plait your hair back.

“Then I shall steal one of Rhaenyra’s on the way out,” you shrug. “She won’t mind.”

Daemon hums as he ties off your braid. “Say your goodbyes and steal your cloak, little thief,” he says, kissing your forehead. “I will meet you outside the dragon keep.”

You nod and begin looking for a sturdy pair of boots as Daemon leaves. “I heard you were looking for a cloak.” Rhaenyra’s voice startles you. She’s standing in the doorway, black cloak in hand. “I have one of my riding cloaks here, it will keep you warm and protect you from the elements.” She walks up, tossing it over your shoulders and pinning it to your gown. Her hands smooth down the fabric gently.

“Thank you, Nyra. Not just for the cloak,” you begin. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”

“No, y/n. Daemon is right. There is no use delaying the inevitable. It was unfair to keep it from you, even if we did it out of love.” She embraces you in a tight hug.

“Now don’t keep our husband waiting,” Rhaenyra says as she pulls back.

You practically run to the dragon keep. Even though Rhaenyra and Daemon had shown you through the Red Keep, you had yet to actually see a dragon. Your lovers thought it would be too soon to let you close to the dragons in your state. You could hear Caraxes before you saw him. His screeches were ear piercing, but they were nothing compared to the first glimpse you caught of him.

Instead of fear, you found yourself in awe of the great beast before you. Caraxes towers above everything, his red scales glittering in the light. His wings flap in restlessness, head twisting and turning as if he was looking for something. You watch as his nostrils flare, he had caught wind of you. Caraxes head whips towards you and the second he sees you, he lumbers over. You freeze as his massive head swings into your side, pushing you under his wing. Caraxes releases a cat-like purr that rumbles through you as he nuzzles into you.

You instinctively reach out to pet his head, gently scratching at his scales. “Aren’t you just a handsome boy?” you giggle. This was the fearsome dragon of war Daemon goes on about? “Such a pretty boy, how could anyone be afraid of you?” you coo at the dragon as you scratch under his chin. Caraxes is trilling and purring, preening under your attention.

“I leave you alone for a moment, and you are already trying to steal my dragon?” Daemon teases as he walks around Caraxes to greet you.

“It’s not my fault,” you laugh. “This precious baby boy just wanted some attention.”

“He was growing restless after not seeing you in months,” Daemon says. “It will be hard to get him from your side now.” Daemon pats at Caraxes’ neck in greeting, as he pulls you away to mount the dragon. Caraxes lowers to the ground as far as he can, making your ascent easier. Daemon helps you up, climbing up after you and securing you both in the saddle.

Daemon slides an arm around your waist and whistles for Caraxes to take off. Your breath catches in your chest at the weightless feeling. Caraxes climbs up into the skies with just a few strong beats of his wings. The wind tears through your hair, and you’re thankful that Daemon took the time to braid your hair and make sure you had a cloak. You let go of the saddle, stretching your arms out and leaning back into your husband. A giggle escapes as you move your fingers in time with the air currents.

“I don’t know how you could ever want to come down,” you yell over the wind.

“It’s hard,” Daemon leans down into your ear. “But when my beautiful wives are waiting on the ground below, nothing could truly keep me away. Not even this.” He kisses your neck, nuzzling into the skin that peeks out of your cloak. His arm around your waist tightens as his other hand slides up your thigh, shifting your skirts up.

You groan as his hand cups your core, the heel of his palm grinding into your clit. “It is a shame that you have no memories of your first flight,” he purrs. “You were terrified of heights, and demanded I distract you.” Your hips twitch involuntarily into his grip, and you gasp softly.

“There’s no way in hell we are doing anything up here,” you whine. “It’s a long way down.”

Daemon hums into your ear as he continues to caress you through the trousers. “You truly think Caraxes or I would let you fall?”

“Caraxes?!” you bat Daemon’s hand away. You had forgotten the dragon underneath you for a second. “What the fuck Daemon, he’s going to know what’s going on!”

Daemon goes silent in a moment, shocked, before he laughs. You twist back to see him wiping a tear from his eyes. “My love, you never fail to surprise me.”

You slap his chest lightly, “don’t tease me, Daemon!”

He simply shakes his head, hand retreating as he smooths your skirts back down to cover your trousers. “Forgive me, dear wife. I only wished to distract you from your worries.”

His words sombered the playful mood as you remembered what waited for you at the end of this flight–your children. “Tell me about them.”

“Well, we have several. There’s Baela, Rhaena, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey, Aegon and Viserys.”

“Dear gods, please tell me Rhaenyra took a turn birthing this mob of children.” You wince. How did you manage to have so many children in your five year marriage.

As if sensing your question, Daemon clarifies. “Baela and Rhaena are both daughters from my previous marriage. Their mother, Laena, died giving birth to our third child.”

“Will they be there as well?”

“No. They are both staying at Driftmark with their grandsire for the summer. Aegon and Viserys are both in the nursery at the Red Keep.”

You gasp, “how did I never find out about them?”

“The staff were counseled to keep their silence if they wanted to keep their heads,” Daemon says causally.

“I am rather confused,” you admit. “We’ve only been married for five years, how did we manage five children in that time?”

“Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey are all children from Rhaenyra’s first marriage. Aegon and Viserys are the only children who survived in our short five years.”

“Survived? What do you mean?”

Daemon sighed, squeezing you tightly before he began. “You….struggled to become pregnant. When you did, it was a hard pregnancy. Rhaenyra and I were terrified of losing you. You barely survived the birth, but-” His voice cuts off. You place your hand over his, waiting for him to find his words again. “Visenya was stillborn.”

You stare off into the skies. It was surreal. You, or at least another version of yourself, had been through so much. The rest of the flight passed with Daemon telling you stories of the children. Moments like these were hard, but precious. Daemon rarely let his guard down to show any vulnerability, but when he did you found yourself drawn even closer to him.

Daemon yelled a command, urging Caraxes to land. The dragon soared through the clouds, gliding down. You peak over the side to catch a glimpse below. The only things you can make out are two dragons laying in a clearing.

Caraxes lands surprisingly light, but you still jolt forward at the sudden stop. Daemon braces you as he untangles the saddle ties from you. Caraxes lowers, stretching a wing out for you to climb down. You slide down, thanking him with a pat.

“Mom!” Before you can turn to look for your sons, a figure jumps into your arms. You instinctively catch them. “I missed you.”

“Joffrey, give your mother some space.” Daemon chides.

The figure, Joffrey, wriggles deeper into your arms. You pick him up, setting him on your hip. He was certainly too old for a nursery, but not too old to be carried. You look up to see Jacaerys and Lucerys standing a few feet away.

“I trust your journey was well?” The tallest brother–Jacaerys–asks. You silently thank Daemon for giving you a crash course on the flight over. There was some tension, as if they both assumed they were in trouble.

“No need for formalities, I’m just happy to see my boys.” Jacaerys and Lucerys sigh in relief before running up to hug you. “We have so much to talk about.”

NOTE: Thank you so much for all the love on this series!! I work a full time job and spend my evenings writing-so all your support makes it so worth it! As you have noticed, this chapter is smut free (alas). Trust me, there are PLENTYYYYYY of scenes ahead (bc I'm down bad for these two). In the meantime, I hope you all enjoyed a little Caraxes content! ~ Lacie <3

Taglist: @syraxnyra , @avalyaaa , @angeliccss , @clocksonthewall79 , @sia2raw , @forma-lina , @lorarri , @imoonkiss , @ba6ysworld , @abaker74 , @aniisbavk1 , @different-tale-student

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#house of the dragon #house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd #hotd fic #hotd season 2 #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra x reader #daemon x rhaenyra x reader #queen rhaenyra

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chrollogy · 7 months ago

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iv. NEW YEAR BLUES

miya atsumu x f!reader

── next: v. Misunderstandings | series masterlist

synopsis: After sending a risky text to Atsumu, you avoid your phone the next morning like a ticking time bomb until curiosity gnaws at your skin but it doesn’t take long before you cave. Thus, with a bated breath, you brace yourself for his response.

chapter content warning: college au, angst heh, shrine visit (poor depiction), implied alcohol use, tipsy reader (maybe a dumbass too), miya atsumu is an even bigger dumbass, hinata mention LMAO, mutual pining, slow burn, requited unrequited love, miscommunication (it just got even worse. rip.), not beta read.

word count: 4.1k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. woweeee one more chapter and then we’re done ehehehehe >:)

It was quarter to two.

The mellow hum of Hyōgo’s early winter morning settled into Atsumu’s bones like a pair of invisible shackles, holding him hostage between the borders of sleep, and sobriety. On other nights, it lulled him to slumber without any problem but not tonight, not when his mind was plagued with thoughts of you.

Out of all times, his brain decided to recount every single moment with you from the trip. First, it was the happy, mellow memories of the first day—stolen glances full of yearning, his crimson-tinged cheeks, and fluttering heartbeats, and then came the uncomfortable haze that drove a wedge between the two of you. God, Atsumu didn’t even want to think about that moment on the boat.

Atsumu was fully aware that you knew his response was a complete lie but could you really blame him? What difference would it have made if he said ‘yes’? At the end of the day, what he felt for you was one-sided, nothing was going to change the fact that you only viewed him as a friend.

In fact, maybe this wall between the two of you was the cure to his yearning heart—a space to help him move on, and forget the familiarity of loving you.

As Atsumu’s caramel gaze bore into the ceiling above, tracing the moonlit glow that seeped from the window, his phone illuminated the dark room for a brief second, a tinge of blue catching his attention.

Mindlessly reaching for his device that lay on the wooden nightstand, he let out a tired sigh, honeyed eyes squinting at the sudden brightness that invaded his vision. Letting his eyes adjust, Atsumu carefully read the notification banner on the lock screen.

It was a message from you. His heart violently stuttered. Thank goodness for the tight grip he had or else his face would’ve been aching from his phone falling on it.

As if on instinct, Atsumu sat up, clearly sobered up from the fact that you texted him at almost 2 AM. Were you perhaps also having trouble sleeping? Atsumu wondered if your mind was also filled with thoughts the past few days—thoughts of him. He could only fantasise.

The blonde positioned himself against his headboard before clicking onto your message with a shaky digit, and a thundering heartbeat.

It was an absurdly long paragraph.

‘hey. i know you’re asleep right now, and you’ll probably see this in the morning but whatever :) . .’

Atsumu swallowed thickly. For some reason, he felt oddly nervous about this message but at the same time, anticipated the context behind it. Maybe you were trying to salvage whatever was left of the friendship? Or maybe you just wanted to cuss him out with a long, detailed message.

Nonetheless, Atsumu kept reading,

‘. . . i’m not going to beat around the bush or anything so i’ll get straight to the point. i like you. i’ve had feelings for you since highschool and i know it’s cowardly of me to confess over text but i don’t mind being called one.

god, i cannot even remember the feeling of my heart acting normal around you. my heart is so painfully familiar to yearning for you that it hurts. whenever i see you, i just can’t seem to act right. i hate how my heart stutters, how my cheeks heat, how my body suddenly doesn’t know how to act normally. it’s bittersweet because i feel guilty for falling in love with a close friend but also i’m not ashamed of it because you’re so amazing, and caring.

i cherish you a lot, tsumu, i really do and i know you do too but i don’t think it's in the way i want you to. i’m not pressuring you for an answer or anything because i already know you don’t like me back but that’s okay. i don’t know what will happen after this but just know that i really admire our friendship.

like i said before, you don’t have to reply to this. i just really needed to get all the pent up feelings out of my chest so i can finally move on :) just give me some time to be myself again.’

One word. Speechless. Miya Atsumu was speechless.

There were so many goddamn emotions that ran through every single fibre of his body to the point where his brain couldn’t process it all. Atsumu didn’t know whether to be ecstatic with the fact that—holy shit—you reciprocated his feeling, or to be frustrated with the fact that you thought it was one-sided.

His heart hammered against his chest, the pounding of it reaching his very ears. He was so fucking nervous that he breathed through his parted lips, honeyed eyes re-reading every single word you typed. The winter chill that filled his room went awfully warm, mirroring the crimson tinge that painted his cheeks.

So he was the one you were talking about back then; that drunken confession where you told him you had feelings for a certain someone.

Atsumu didn’t know what to do—didn’t know what to respond.

In all honesty, you put him in a very tough spot. How was he supposed to respond after confessing your feelings but also stating that you did not, in fact, sought an answer. Not to mention how you practically put words in his mouth.

Who were you to decide if Atsumu reciprocated your feelings or not?

The blonde took a deep, shaky breath, palms sweating as he gripped the device. Atsumu knew he needed to respond with a calculated mind—as tempting as it was, he wasn’t going to let his heart lead this time.

Not when his mind painfully reminded him of the conversation you two had,

“I don’t even think I’m ready for a relationship.” “So . . yer jus’ gonna confess for the sake of movin’ on? Even if he likes ya back?”

He vividly remembered the way you solemnly nodded to his question, a sad, subtle smile lingering on your lips as if to reassure yourself that you’ll be okay.

Atsumu closed his eyes, letting the sounds of crickets chirping outside consume him. The gears in his head turned, and turned, working overtime to come up with a response. He had to be sensible, whatever he replied was surely going to change the course of your bond, forever.

Though, there was only one thing he knew—to respect your decision.

The morning came rather quickly, early rays peeked through your window, mellow hues of yellow, and orange painted the ivory walls of your room to cast a warm, inviting glow—a reminder of the impending day ahead.

As you reached for your device to check the time, you were greeted with a black, unlit screen, your sleepy reflection staring back. Oh, that’s right. You had turned it off right after sending that risky text message to Atsumu, wanting nothing to do with it.

Vivid memories of last night came flooding in, filling every corner of your mind. All the words you typed down, the feelings that came with it, the hammering of your heart—it came back to you, and now, you were twice as nervous. You wondered if Atsumu had already read your message, even more curious about his response—if he did send one back.

Just thinking about it made your head dizzy. There was a ray of hope tucked neatly at the bottom of your heart, it wasn’t big but you held onto it like it was the most precious thing.

You let out a sigh, and tossed the device on your bed before getting ready to brave the winter day ahead. There were four more days before the new year rolled around—how you were going to spend the last two days heavily depended on Atsumu’s response.

It was inevitable. Every now, and then, your eyes mindlessly wandered to the device that lifelessly lay atop your sheets, its blackened screen inviting you to turn it on. You turned your room upside down for anything to distract you from the silent beckoning of your device—from re-reading your favourite manga to blankly staring at the ceiling above.

There was even an urge to read a syllabus from one of your new classes this coming semester.

Four hours. You lasted four dreadful hours before curiosity settled into your skin like a painful bite—no matter how much you ignored it, it seemed to worsen.

And with a hammering heartbeat, and sweaty palms, you turned it on. Patiently waiting, you watched as it displayed the brand logo, and then a few seconds before it loaded your lock screen. A heartbeat passed as the device showed several notifications from last night, and this morning. Disregarding them, you scrolled straight down until Atsumu’s message notification came into view.

You sucked in a breath.

The thread of messages between you two quickly popped up as you clicked on the notification. Bracing yourself, your eyes wander down to the start of his response—god, it was equally as long.

It was sent at 2 AM. It made you even more nervous after realising that Atsumu was indeed still awake when you had sent the message.

‘hey :) first of all, i’m very thankful that you had the courage to bring this up to me so please don’t call yourself a coward, i know how hard it is to try and confess to someone. i find it admirable, really. i think it’s brave of you to decide something like this.

secondly, i am over the moon after finding out you have feelings for me. it feels such an honour to be loved by a close friend so thank you again for letting me know. like you said, i, too, cherish our friendship. i don’t know what will become of our bond after this but just know that i am very glad to be friends with you.

thirdly, as you’ve mentioned in your message, i don’t feel the same way. .’

You stopped reading to stare at the ceiling above, a foolish smile plastered upon your lips—it conveyed anything but happiness.

Oh.

So, you were right. Atsumu didn’t feel the same way.

That little bundle of hope deep inside your heart disappeared, dissolving into nothing but what seemed like distant memories—memories of your saccharine moments together.

God, you already had a feeling he didn’t like you back but why did it feel like a hard slap on the face? As if reeling you back into dull reality after a haze of fantasy. This was what you wanted, right? To confess with rejection in mind so you could finally move on. But now that the answer lay right before you on a silver platter, why didn’t you want to move on?

You mustered every single bit of your strength to read the rest of his message, vision becoming blurry as tears slowly formed.

‘. . . you’re such a great friend. don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful both inside and out but my feelings for you are just platonic. i’m really sorry that i don’t reciprocate your feelings. i don’t know how much this will affect you but just know that if you want me to stay away, i will. it’s the least i can do to help you move on.

you’re an amazing person, and there are a lot of other guys out there who deserve you so much but i am not one of them. again, thanks for letting me know.’

You didn’t even realise hot tears started rolling down your cheeks until it hit the screen with a soft sound, one by one, droplets of tears scattered the surface of your device as if to wash away all of Atsumu’s words

A weird feeling blossomed in your chest, extending its sharp roots down to your stomach where it painfully planted itself. The grip on your phone tightened, other hand clutching—clawing—at your heavy heart, wanting to take it out from the confines of your ribcage and mend it with your own shaky hands.

Everything felt completely still, birds that hummed their usual morning song were no more, mellow sounds of the city became distant as you let yourself wallow in complete sadness.

It was odd, you felt nothing, and everything at the same time—the ugly feeling in your chest, the sting behind your eyes, the impending headache from your stuffy nose. Atsumu’s words repeated inside your mind, plagued it like an invasive plant which invited more pain to your strained heart.

‘I don’t feel the same way. My feelings for you are just platonic.’

It wasn’t just cupid’s stupid arrow agonisingly digging into the core of your heart, no, it also felt like he had wrung your heart dry with his bare hands, and he was laughing about it.

You felt like a fucking fool. Especially for hoping that somewhere down the line, Atsumu felt the same way.

The last two remaining days of the year were a complete haze, navigating through the last moments with a clouded mind, and an unmendable heart while putting on a brave face. And as the clock struck midnight on the 31st, you put on the happiest smile you could muster in front of your parents, and welcomed the new year with uncertainty. You tried not to think about Atsumu’s words but they were seared into your mind, a mocking reminder of your unreciprocated feelings.

It wasn’t long before the first morning of the new year greeted you with clear skies, and warm rays, paired with an early call from Suna. You already knew the reason for his call—of course, one cannot celebrate the new year without hatsumōde.

“It’s a surprise you picked up my call, you haven’t been answering my texts. Anyway, the twins, and I are visiting the shrine, coming?”

“How about Kita?” You asked. “He’s going with his grandmother tomorrow.”

With a sigh, you hesitantly agreed. It's only been two days since the confession, and you could already feel the awkwardness, and pain seeping into your bones. You knew you weren’t even ready to face Atsumu yet but you’ve never turned down a shrine visit from your friends, especially on new years.

Before you knew it, the crisp winter air engulfed your body. Clad in thick layers of clothes, you walked the quiet footpath to the local shrine, heart hammering against your chest with every step taken closer to your friends—to Atsumu.

His flaxen locks were easy to spot, standing out amongst the crowd of people with raven strands. Your heart violently stuttered but you kept your eyes on Suna, putting on a bright smile to greet them. They stood just before the grand torii gate which led straight to the shrine itself.

“Glad ya could make it.” Osamu greeted you with a hug, followed by Suna.

Throughout the whole exchange with the two men, you could feel Atsumu’s burning gaze on the side of your face, and god, was it an extreme sport to ignore it. The two didn’t notice the way you, and Atsumu awkwardly greeted one another—a tight-lipped smile, and a brief eye contact. You felt small, and naked under his honeyed gaze but it wasn’t anything intimate, you guessed this was the consequences of baring the contents of your heart two nights ago.

Tugging at the neckline of your clothes, you began to grow uncomfortable at the awkwardness that made itself known.

You weren’t going to lie, Atsumu looked devastatingly handsome as ever, and it pained your heart even more. Though, he had this familiar expression painted on his face—the one he always wore whenever he was upset about something. It was subtle but you noticed the way his bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly, the light crease between his thick brows.

It was hard not to wonder what Atsumu was upset about.

After showing respect by bowing at the torii gate, the four of you fell into a step. Since it was the first day of the new year, the shrine was packed with families, friends, couples and people alike; some were at the chōzuya—water purification pavilion—to purify their body & mind while others were already lined up to pay respects at the main shrine building.

Keeping to the sides of the main path, You, Suna, and Osamu fell into a mellow conversation—talking about the new year ahead, and the upcoming semester. Surprisingly, Atsumu didn’t join in the conversation, hands tucked deep inside the pockets of his jacket, he stared hard at the concrete beneath.

It shouldn’t bother him but it did.

You were the one who got rejected so why was he more upset about the situation? Why were you able to easily slip into a cheerful conversation with Osamu, and Suna while acting like nothing happened two nights ago? Atsumu half expected you to not even turn up today, he had to practically stop himself from overreacting after the brunette stated you’d come.

Well, it was good that you were already moving on but whatever. Atsumu decided shoving away the weird feeling in his chest was the best option.

After doing the ceremonial purification rite at the chōzuya, the four of you headed at the back of the line for the main shrine. It didn’t take too long until it was your turn, Suna, and Osamu went ahead first which left you, and Atsumu to pair up.

Watching as your two friends prayed at the shrine, you dug your nails into the plush of your palms, awkwardness eating away at you. It felt like everyone’s eyes were burning holes on both your’s, and Atsumu’s backs—as if they all knew what happened between the two of you a couple of nights back; it also didn’t help how you could practically feel Atsumu’s not-so-subtle stares from the side.

Sighing, you spoke to him for the first time since that moment at the boat, “If you’re uncomfortable with me, I’m more than happy to do it alone.”

You didn’t dare look at him, even when he fully turned to face you. It was dangerous, one look into his gaze, and you’d be a sobbing mess.

“It’s not that. It’s just . .”

Atsumu’s sentence trailed off as he noticed you walking up to the shrine. He closed his lips and silently followed, heart weighing heavy with every unspoken word that plagued his mind.

The two of you did the customs as usual: ringing the bell, tossing a 5 yen coin into the wooden saisen-bako, bowing twice, and clapping twice before praying. You, and Atsumu stayed still for a moment, eyes closed, and palms glued together to wish for good luck in the new year ahead. Ending the prayer with another bow, the two of you joined Osamu, and Suna.

“I saw ‘em distributin’ amazake. Wanna go grab some?” The younger twin pointed a thumb over his shoulder. His brother, and Suna agreed rather quickly, their throats bobbing at the mention of the sweet treat.

Feigning a yawn, you spoke up, “I think I’ll head home now. I didn’t really get much sleep last night.” This earned a unison of disgruntled sounds from Suna, and Osamu whereas Atsumu wordlessly looked over your way.

It wasn’t like you were lying, you really didn’t get much sleep, especially after waiting for the clock to strike midnight but it wasn’t like lack of sleep bothered you, no, it was the growing feeling in your chest the longer you spent time in Atsumu’s presence.

Bidding your friends a good bye, you headed home, each step taken away from Atsumu somewhat eased the strain in your heart.

Never in a million years would your old self believe that the feeling of being away from Atsumu brought a sense of comfort, a tranquillity in your heart. Albeit, not easy—nothing ever was when you’re taming a yearning heart—there were days where the urge to bask in his presence were strong, and there were days where you felt fine without Atsumu around.

Safe to say, your year started with the much dreaded new year blues.

Ever since the new semester started, you’ve busied yourself with assignments, weekly quizzes, and whatever else that allowed you to make several excuses just to not see Atsumu—whether it be movie nights at the twins’ apartment, afternoon library sessions, or simply just coffee runs with the group, you had an excuse

Before you knew it, it had already been a little over two weeks since you’ve confessed—two weeks since you last saw Atsumu at the shrine. Two weeks, and your feelings never wavered for him, not even once, that was the stubbornness you were dealing with.

“Whatever, I’ll come by your place tonight, and drag you out if I have to.”

You groaned, “Suna.” He said your name with an equally serious tone, his dulcet voice spilling from the speakers of your phone.

“You’ve been holed up in your room since forever, and we haven’t seen you that much. I miss you, the twins miss you, and Kita misses you. It’s just a few hours to let loose.”

“Isn’t it a bit too early in the semester to party? Also, Kita’s coming?” You tried your best to ignore the fact that your heart stuttered at the mention of the twins missing you. Atsumu missed you? Before you could pick Suna’s words apart, he spoke into the line,

“It’s not a party, just a small gathering with some familiar faces. And, no, he isn’t. He needed to work on an assignment.”

“I do, as well!” “Bullshit. I’ll see you at eight.” With that, he ended the call.

And that’s how you ended up in the twins’ apartment, lazily sloshing the alcoholic contents of your plastic cup. You don’t recall the amount of drinks you’ve drank but it sure was enough to have your head spinning.

There were familiar faces here, and there—which you took time to greet every single one—and some foreign faces. You assumed most of the people here were Atsumu’s teammates from the university team with how close they were with the blonde.

In all honesty, you had absolutely no idea as to why the twins were even hosting this gathering, it was so out of the blue. Though, you did hear an orange-haired male loudly exclaim to Atsumu at how much of a genius he was for organising a gathering this early into the semester.

So, it was Atsumu’s idea all along.

“Y’know, you can just talk to him, right?”

Suna’s slurred voice unceremoniously pulled you out of your trance, shifting your attention over to him. “What do you mean?” You coughed, cheeks heating, trying to hide the fact that Suna just caught you shamelessly staring at Atsumu who conversed with the orange-haired male. He sat beside you, body far back into the couch, narrow eyes fighting the sleep that slowly overtook him.

You didn’t like how your mind instantly agreed with his sentence.

The brunette let out a humourless chuckle but didn’t elaborate further, instead, he pulled out his phone to mindlessly scroll on it. Narrowing your eyes at him for a brief moment, you shifted your gaze back to the blonde, he had a big smile on his face, a tinge of crimson across his cheeks.

God, even under the shitty lighting of their apartment, Miya Atsumu still looked handsome as ever.

You stared at him for a moment, heart hammering against your chest, limbs tingling at the sudden urge to walk up to him. Oh, this was a very dangerous game you were playing, especially with the alcohol in your system. Your mind yelled go, go, go but you knew better than to play with fire, right?

Wrong.

In a heartbeat, you were on your feet, taking slow strides over to Atsumu. The sober part of your mind screamed at you to turn around, and sit back down but the tipsy part of your mind was stubborn—you wondered if it took after your heart.

The sudden urge to talk to Atsumu was fuelled by nothing but liquid courage—all the worries in your mind were magically solved; the weight that pulled your heart down was gone, and suddenly, it didn’t seem like a bad idea to even talk to him.

Deep down, you knew you were playing a very dangerous game right now but you couldn’t care less. Not when your heart pulled you closer to him.

As you neared, Atsumu cut the conversation short with his friend, and stared at you with expectant eyes, brows sky high in surprise. He sucked in a breath as you looked up at him through your lashes, the corners of your lips subtly turned upwards. Heart pounding, he shifted his weight from one leg to another as he waited for you to speak first,

“‘Tsumu, can we talk?”

Atsumu’s knees almost gave out upon hearing his nickname roll off your tongue, an icy shiver running up his spine.

—

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shawnxstyles · 1 year ago

Text

the only one

DATE: JANUARY 2, 2024

summary: you go on your first date with peter, and it ends even better than you could have ever expected. ;)

request: yes!

words: 6.3k

warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [oral, fingering, multiple orgasms], protected sex, dirty talk), language, and the most gentlemanly man.

note: i cannot believe i’m finally writing another gyno!peter after all this time… anyway, this is NOT an actual series, simply just more situations/scenes of these two together!

gynecologist!peter x patient!y/n

–

Every date that you’ve been on in the past never made you this nervous. You didn’t spend two hours just deciding on what to wear and taking an extra hour to prepare yourself. You worked for a fashion magazine, editing and reviewing comments and critiques. You were surrounded by clothes and creativity all day, but struggled to pick a “first-date look” from your closet. You swore you read something about that before…

You never thought first dates were anything more than a simple introduction, a first impression of another human being. It was one of the foundations of the question, “Could I get along well enough with this person to go on a second date?”.

You had only been on two first dates: one with your ex, who you were with for four months, and recently with that guy from your work. The second one was mainly just a hook-up, and the first one obviously led to some type of relationship that didn’t work out in the end. Maybe you didn’t have enough experience in the dating world to be wondering if the amount of nerves you had right now was healthy.

Your hands were clammy as you strapped on your black heels. You noticed you were swallowing more frequently than normal, and you didn’t understand why. When you looked in the mirror, your hands flattened out your black dress more times than you could count, ridding wrinkles that aren’t even there.

After your appointment a few weeks ago, you had texted Peter. More specifically, you texted him the next day. Immediately after simply saying hello and your name, you thought of how many other people he may have given his phone number to. Or worse, how many people he had fingered in his office… You started worrying if you shouldn’t have texted him at all because he was a doctor. He was probably too busy for anything. It was just a nice gesture, maybe?

But an hour later, in the evening, he had texted you back with a short apology. He was working a little past the clock in order to get more doctor stuff done. Even his texts were sweet with a dab of charm. How do women control themselves around him?

Or maybe it was just you, and you were a fucking weirdo.

Yeah it could be that.

Peter and you went on to texting every now and then to texting daily. Texting him was something to look forward to after a long day at work. It also became pretty clear that he wasn’t texting anyone else because well, he was working throughout the day doing doctor stuff while you were doing editor stuff. He would even text you during his lunch break and that always made your heart skip to see his message in the middle of the day.

One night in particular, you were complaining to Peter (yes, you had gotten to the point where you could complain about little inconveniences) about your sink malfunctioning. Instead of asking you to send pictures of the pipes under the sink, he had you FaceTime him. It was the first time you guys have ever called and the second time you’ve ever seen his face, so your heart was a little race-y. But when that charming, wide grin flashed on your screen, he easily slipped into conversation. Peter helped you fix your sink with a little wrench movement along with replacing a broken screw through the phone.

It wasn’t awkward. It was relieving.

You didn’t have to force a certain personality in order to engage in a conversation with him. You felt more yourself than you ever have when talking to him, flowing easily like two streams into one. You hadn’t even realized how late it was by the time you guys ended the call until he was gone. The serenity of your place felt a little more emptier than usual without the sound of his beautiful accent from your speaker. It was nearly midnight by the time you went to bed, wondering how things would be if you and Peter took your friendship a bit further.

Would talking always be this simple? Would he always be this charming?

After that night, you would make excuses to call him. He never denied you, even after he told you he had a long day at the hospital. You guys were not only texting now, but calling daily. You would get excited for his texts and calls, looking forward to talking to him. That’s when you realized you wanted more with him. It felt like you knew each other forever, but it had merely been a few weeks. You wanted to go on a date with him, wanted to be with him in person again. And of course, your mind wandered to the thought of how he is in bed.

If he was that good with just his quick fingers, then how good was he with more space and time? You began to dream about it.

Then he finally asked you. It was so sudden, you honestly didn’t expect it.

You were debriefing your plans for the week and what you had to do at work.

“Sometimes, I feel like my life is on repeat,” You chuckle, but it sounds tired.

“You’re always doing the same thing every week?” Peter questions. He found that he loves just listening to you talk for hours about whatever. He prompts you with questions, and you always answer thoroughly. It’s like an unspoken routine for you two.

“I mean, it feels like that. I never have time to go out and do anything. And when I do, I don’t go out,” You half-smile to yourself as you look down at your lap. You sounded kind of lame, so you were trying not to cringe at yourself.

“You told me your agenda for this week, but what about Saturday and Sunday?”

“Oh, well, you know I don’t work on the weekends. Sometimes, I get extra stuff done at home, but only because I’m bored. I watch TV…” You squint your eyes, trying to think of things you do on the weekend when you’re not busy. “You know, I’m listening to what I’m saying, and I am so lame. God, I need a life outside of work.”

“You’re not lame. Just busy. Give yourself some credit,” he waves off your dig at yourself, and you don’t stop yourself from smiling. He’s just too nice. You can’t take your eyes off him through the small screen as he watches you back.

“Yeah, yeah. Enough about me. What are your weekend plans?” You definitely talk too much, so you always attempt to ask him questions back.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you out,” he very casually says, nonchalantly staring at you through the camera. “Unless you’re busy watching TV.”

“W-What?” Heat crawled up your neck and ears, skin flaming off of his quick words. He’s always charming and always confident with you, so why are you surprised he’s this smooth? You wonder if he’s been thinking about it for a while or if he just got the idea randomly. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Unless you don’t want to. In that case, I am joking…”

“I want to, Peter,” You smile with the words. It feels impossible to lower your cheek muscles because of the giddiness coursing through you. “If I’m honest, I’ve kind of been waiting for you to ask me.”

“I was a little slow, yeah?”

“Yeah, both the turtle and the hare beat you to the finish line,” His wonderful laugh echoes through the speaker of your phone, and it fills you with warmth.

While other people have belittled you and forced you to be one way, Peter naturally allows you to be yourself. Your wit flourishes, and your insecurities fade into unique parts of you. Whether you two are friends or more, you need more people like Peter in your life.

After you two had confirmed the plans for Saturday, you two both went to bed when the call ended. When your head hits the pillow, it’s instantly filled with scenarios of you and Peter. Mostly how your first date might go. Is he the type to pull out a chair for you? Definitely. Would he pay without a second glance? Probably, knowing he has that doctor paycheck. Would he kiss you after walking you back to your door? Maybe, maybe not.

But he did finger-fuck you in his office, so nothing is really that impossible.

So, you let your mind wander for the rest of the night while you sleep peacefully. Yes, you had some great dreams.

–

Instead of texting you that he’s here, Peter knocks on your door. The sound itself made your heart accelerate instantly as you stride quickly to answer it. You’ve been overthinking all the ways that this day could go bad, seriously hoping that it doesn’t.

“Hey,” Peter says, clearly eyeing you up and down. He sounds slightly breathless, but not as if he just ran to your door. No, more like he’s speechless. But you could just be overanalyzing every little detail.

“Hey,” As you repeat the word back, you’re both silent for a second. It’s not awkward as it is tense. You’re both just observing and taking in the appearance of the other, appreciating the time and effort in the looks. Peter’s wearing a navy button-up with black slacks. The first two buttons are undone, giving you a peek at his seemingly smooth chest. He’s not wearing a jacket, so you get a view of his arms. From the way the rich fabric stretches around his muscles, it’s obvious that he works out. He just keeps getting better. He continues to check more of your boxes. “Let me just go grab my purse really quick.”

You snatch your bag off of the coffee table after checking you have everything. What if his one flaw is that he won’t pay for at least half the dinner? You must prepare for all the possible outcomes.

“You look brilliant,” You can see him swallow before his compliment, and you wonder if he’s as nervous as you are. He never makes it a point to look even the slightest bit unsure, which you admire. He’s very charming, which takes a lot of confidence, and he’s very good at it. When he asked you out in his office, you saw that persona slip just a tad, enough for you to see that he is human and that he gets nervous too. You found him adorable. You still do.

“You as well,” You blush as you shut the door behind you. The two of you walk to his car, and of course, he opens the door for you. You can’t stop blushing. “Seriously, how do you make such a simple outfit look so good?”

“Unbutton it,” he answers before gently shutting your door closed. Your mind instantly went to places that it shouldn’t have, making your skin burn. You thought about unbuttoning his shirt slowly and sensually until it fell down his bulky arms. You thought about unbuttoning his slacks and palming his cock. He would be so hard for you, and you didn’t hesitate to get on your knees. God, you wished it was real because you truly would not hesitate for this man.

You shake your head, attempting to rid yourself of those dirty thoughts, so you can have a peaceful date. A first date with Peter.

–

When you guys get to the restaurant, that small voice in the back of your head expects it to be awkward the second you sit down. But once again, you were proven incorrect.

Peter instantly engages in a smooth conversation, asking how your week was overall. You told him all about work and the papers you’re reviewing, and he told you about some of his patients. Every time he mentions anything doctor related, it just makes you swoon. It’s impressive how intelligent he is, and even more so how hard he works. It’s obvious he loves what he does, and you never realized that loving one’s passion was a must-have in your partner checklist.

You also just love the way he talks. His accent makes your skin hot and your spine tingle. Your mind wanders to places it shouldn’t more often than not. And his gaze never leaves yours, only when talking to the waiter when ordering.

There is never a dull moment. Even as you were patiently waiting for your food, you still found things to talk about.

“What do you think they’re celebrating?” he asks, observing two people in the back corner with smiles on their faces.

“They’re dressed nicely, and they’re holding hands too much to be together for that long. I’m going to guess the three or four month anniversary.”

“What about them?” he nudges his head in the direction of the people not too far from you two, sitting with straight faces.

“Oh, they’re not celebrating. Probably breaking up.”

“Who goes to such a nice restaurant for a break-up?”

“I don’t know. Sounds like rich people problems to me,” You joke, and you both share a chuckle. It feels nice to casually chat and people watch with somebody else. When your food arrives, you both eat with more adding silence, slipping in words slowly.

“Did I tell you you look really good tonight?” Peter changes the topic, eyes fixating back onto you.

“Yes… Thank you,” You feel yourself blushing all over your body. You use your napkin to wipe your lips, but you’re really using it to protect your face. It was so obvious what his words did to you, that’s probably why he said them. Suddenly, the room feels a little too hot, even just in your dress. “Took me a while to find out what to wear.”

“You could have worn a garbage bag and still looked great,” Peter says, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Oh, stop it. You’re such a charmer. What’s your game? What do you want?” Your words are playful, but the look in Peter’s eye seems more serious. More powerful and heated. Eyes you haven’t seen for a long time in another person, and it freezes you still. The only thing that’s countering the lust circling his irises is the uprising smirk on his lips.

“To take you home.”

Boy, was he a charmer.

“Don’t ask if I’m kidding because I’m not,” he adds, setting down his napkin on the table. He leans over, a curl falling onto his forehead. A hand reaches halfway across the white cloth and rests delicately on your hand. Even his touch was warm and soft, not forceful in any way. “If you want, I’d like to.”

“I…” You were speechless. You knew what your answer would be, but you were just starstruck. How can one person be so gentlemanly yet hot? Cocky yet so sweet? God really didn’t give anyone a chance when making Peter. “Yes, I would like that a lot.”

Your thumb rubs reassuring circles on his thumb while you smile like a fool. Peter’s smirk only got bigger as the night went on.

–

You talked. You laughed. You smiled.

But as he drove you to his house, you got nervous again. Maybe you guys would do something as normal as watch a movie. Maybe even cuddle a bit. But you really, really hoped it was more. Especially after your first meeting, you knew Peter wasn’t too shy about sexual matters. However, maybe he didn’t want to do that with you yet and just wanted to take things slow.

But his office…

When his hand was on yours on the table, your memory was brought back right to the moment of his fingers inside of you in the chair. You remembered the feeling of him pushing his digit in and out repeatedly and how good it felt when he removed his latex gloves. Your core rumbled with lust, getting off on the mere fantasy of it all.

When you arrive at his house, you both silently get out of the car. Besides the sound of nature, you could only hear your racing heart and how it was racking against your ribcage in intense beats. He unlocks his door, keying jingling while the breeze flows past. You’re hyper-aware of every noise as if Peter could hear your choppy breath. When he finally opens the door, he lets you in first and you smile, trying to not let your obvious nerves surface.

But you clearly fail when he points it out.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Your eyes lock on his hands as he rests his key on his door side table and feet as he casually slips off his dress shoes. Everything about him was mesmerizing. You swear you could just watch a documentary of a regular day in his life and you could be starry-eyed.

“Bunch of things.” But it was really just one thing.

“Care to share?” Peter shifts to the kitchen and you follow him like a helpless dog, clutching your bag for dear life.

“I keep thinking about…the last time we were together,” the words fall from your mouth as you round the counter. You felt like you needed to create some distance between you two if you were going to admit something like that.

“What about it?” Peter’s knack to ask questions right now is making your face burn from embarrassment under his bright kitchen lights. He grabs two glasses and fills them up with fridge water without even asking if you wanted some.

“You know, the fun part,” You round the counter to reach the water, slowly taking a sip. When you set the glass down, your eyes don’t leave his chest. You’re too afraid to look into his eyes.

“I thought it was all pretty fun,” he says, placing down his own glass and taking one large step towards you “Especially the part where you came all over my hand.”

Your skin flames, eyes peering at him for a moment before dashing away. His finger slides beneath your chin to turn your face back to him. He could feel your radiating heat and could see the widening of your pupils under the luminous lights.

“Were you thinking of that?” His finger directs your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him. His voice was low and husky, only for you to hear. “Because I haven’t stopped since the day I walked out of that room.”

“Peter…”

“Just say the word, honey, and I’ll kiss you right now.”

You could just melt into a puddle on the floor of his kitchen. His words are so sensual, there is no way you could ever say no to this man. He’s irresistible without trying too hard.

“Please,” You mustered out seemingly breathless while your eyes were locked into his surely.

He doesn’t miss the beat. His head turns as his lips crash against yours. Your lower back hits the island of the counter of marble, but you don’t flinch. His lips electrocute yours, sending jolts of energy coursing through your body like a shock. Your hands naturally find his neat yet messy styled hair on his nape, fingers rummaging through the curly ends. One of his hands holds your waist down from moving as if he already knows you’re antsy to grind on him. His other caresses your jaw in a stable position, the type of dominance you’ve been craving since that day in his office.

His hand goes underneath your thigh, leading you to wrapping your legs around his waist. You thought he was going to sit you on the counter, but he walked all the way to a bedroom without breaking the kiss.

Peter gently lays you on the bed, causing you to depart from the kiss. He wordlessly goes to unbutton his shirt, but you quickly sit up to do it. You’ve been thinking about doing it since he picked you up, so it only seems right that your fantasy comes true, right?

Just like you imagined, you slowly flicked off the buttons and delicately removed the fabric until it was a bundle of cloth on the floor. On the edge of the bed on your knees, you stare up at Peter with a lustful glint in your eye. That glowy look caused Peter to kiss you again, hungrier than before. His force makes you fall onto the mattress again, making you gasp. He trails down your neck in sloppy kisses, touching every inch of your neck and chest with his lips.

“Where did you get this dress?” You didn’t expect him to ask you that while he was groping your breasts through the material. You moan at the feeling of his rough thumbs on your nipples. It’s very distracting while you try to remember where you got the dress that is currently in the way.

“Um Zara? I-I don’t remember,” You moan loudly, not having time to conceal it as he suckles a mark on your neck.

“Do you like it?”

“What?”

“The dress.”

“S-Sure, yeah. It’s-It’s not my favorite, though,” His tousled hair tickles your face as he gets closer to your boobs.

“Maybe you should have worn a garbage bag.”

“Why?” You pull back a little, moving his head up so you can see his face. You thought maybe you would see some expression of disgust, but he only has pure enjoyment. His soft smile turns into a smirk that you’re growing really fond of. It means he’s about to do something hot.

“Because then I wouldn’t feel so bad about ripping it off of you.”

Just like that, the thin straps are easily snapped from his large hands while he yanks the long dress down your body and onto the floor. His mouth instantly went onto your nipple, sucking until he was satisfied with the raw peak of it. He repeated the same movement the opposite one until you were a panting mess, huffing and puffing from just his mouth on your chest.

You can tell he knows how to do this. Yes, he works in gynecology so it’s a benefit that he knows the female body inside and out. But he’s actually skilled in his technique. Although he is hungry and nearly primal, he takes his time with certain areas, making your body want him more and more each time. It’s incredibly smart, and you’re wondering why every man doesn’t know how to properly treat a woman.

You don’t even know your body the way he seems to know it.

His mouth is at your panties before you could even process it. Right when you think he’s about to widen your legs like you so desperately want him to, he stops when his hands rest on your knees gently. He had been going at a fast pace, but now, he’s slow and controlled. Taunting in a way. Torturing.

“I’m going to remove these now, yeah?” He knows you want it now because he has you in his bed right where you want to be. His tone is not as shy as it had been in the office. It’s more controlling yet still soft. “Words, Y/N.”

That demand was all too similar to his words back in the chair with his hands on your waist. He was about to pull off your underwear then for professional reasons, and now, he’s going to yank them off for selfish ones.

“Please take them off,” Just like you had then, you clenched around nothing. Just his sensual words that make you spiral into horny oblivion. Your wavering tone makes him smile as he tugs down the thin material from your legs, tossing them somewhere in the room.

Then he finally widens your legs, facing your aching pussy that hasn’t forgotten about him since all those weeks ago. You were throbbing and leaking to the damn bed sheets, but you couldn’t give a fuck less. You wanted his fingers, his mouth, his cock–anything that he was willing to give you.

“That day,” he starts, “I really wanted to taste you. You were dripping all over my fingers. It was so hard to stay professional.”

He leans down and gets really close to your cunt, inches away from doing what he really wants to do.

“You’ll let me taste you, right?” he asks in an innocent kind of way, but there’s hints of taunt in there. It makes your core burn, and you almost moan at the way his breath hits your center.

“Yes, please. Do whatever you want,” You say that because it’s true–he can do whatever he wants to you, and you would be grateful.

“So polite. So eager,” he kisses your thigh, dangerously close to you now, “And so, so wet.”

“Peter, please,” You were begging now, but you didn’t care. You would beg all night for Peter to touch you the way he did in his office. You’ve tried to replicate it, but it’s no use. You’ve been craving that feeling for weeks now, and he seems to be the only one who can get you there.

“So polite. Good girl.”

To your luck, he doesn’t say another word. He finally puts his mouth on your pussy by slurping up all of your juices. You immediately moan, just by the mere knowledge that his mouth is on you. His tongue slips through your folds all the way up to your clit. Peter suckles on it, feeling it throb in his mouth.

“Taste even better than I imagined,” You don’t know if his whispered words were meant to be heard by you, but you heard them. They caused you to clench right as his tongue slotted inside of you, desperate to taste more of you.

His large hands are pressed against the insides of your thighs, forcing you to stay spread for him. You can feel them ache, but nothing feels as prominent as his tongue inside of you. And then, just when it starts to feel good, he makes it feel even better. One of his digits finds your clit, circling pressure until you’re a moaning mess.

“Fuck, Peter. That’s… so good.”

His mouth pops off of you for a second to catch a breath. But he could honestly drown in the taste of you. He smoothly slides a finger to replace where his mouth was, filling you up just like in his office. Now, his mouth is sucking on your clit, needing to make it throb. You feel that feeling you’ve been chasing for the past few weeks building up in your stomach, and you know it’s not going to be long at all until you achieve it.

“Come. Show me what only I can make you do,” Peter grumbles, his words cascading over your body. The deep rumble of his voice tips you over the edge, causing you to come all over his fingers again. After cleaning up some of your orgasm, he lifts his mouth, but doesn’t remove his fingers. He continues to pump them in and out, even though you’re sensitive.

“So fuckin’ tight, and I haven’t even given you a second finger,” one of his fingers taps of your clit, causing you to gasp at how sensitive you are. “Can you give me another?”

“A-Another one?” You’re panting and sweating from just one, but he wants to give you another? Who is this man, and where has he been all your life? “I can’t.”

“Oh, but you can. The body is an amazing thing,” he inserts another finger into your cunt and increases his intensity on your nerves. You gasp again, moaning without caring how loud you are. “See, your clit makes you do that. And I love that.”

“Oh, Peter,” You helplessly whimpered. As he thrusts his fingers inside of you with that charming smile and a hint of a smirk, you already feel your high approaching you again. The sight and the feel of him was just too overwhelming. With each thrust of his fingers, his arms bulged, forearm veins popping deliciously. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“C’mon, baby. Give me another. Want to feel you clench around my fingers. Imagine it’s my cock. Imagine how big my cock is going to feel in your little, tight cunt.”

His words oozed sex. So it only made sense that you came not long after. Your release coated his skilled hand once again, and this time, he seemed satisfied with your two orgasms.

When you could finally catch your breath, you didn’t see him reaching for his belt like most men do. But you really, really wanted him to reach for his belt.

“Are you tired? How do you feel?” The tone in his voice was soft. He was easily able to change from sex Peter to caring Peter. Your heart melted at his concern.

“Tired, but good tired. I’ve only ever had three orgasms, and you just gave me two of them,” You laughed breathlessly while he chuckled. “Would I be selfish to ask for more?”

That made him laugh. It was wholehearted and deep, echoing throughout the room. “Not at all.”

And then he reaches for his belt. You feel your organs twist in that lustful, horny way that they do when he does anything. When all his clothes are discarded and you’re faced with his raging cock, you’re practically drooling. He was right when he said he was big; thick and veiny all along the sides. It seemed unfair, really.

He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom, ripping it and rolling it on easily. You continue to watch him in awe as he strokes himself a few times over the condom. Truth be told, he’s already incredibly hard. The second he slips inside of you he fears he will come on the spot because of how tight you are.

But he leans over your body, elbows holding himself up. You can smell his fresh scent, full of pine and wood.

“Did I tell you you look beautiful tonight?” he whispers next to your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin, which gives you the shivers. Your hands trail up over his body until they’re resting on his broad shoulders. You can feel his tensed muscles working to hold him up right, even though it looks like an effortless task to him.

“Oh shush. But thank you,” His comment makes your face warm, like a candle right next to your cheek.

“You look especially pretty under me,” his cock brushes your cunt, sliding delicately through the folds. You’re not shy of gasping, trying to mentally prepare yourself for his impeccable size.

When he finally pushes the head in, you take a deep breath and release it in a small whimper. You know you’re tight because you haven’t been with anyone in a few weeks. The most you’ve taken are Peter’s fingers, which are nothing compared to his cock.

He waits a few moments before moving again, giving you time to adjust. But you don’t think you’ll ever be able to fully settle with his size. It seems like he’ll always be stretching you out, no matter how many times you take him.

“Breathe, baby,” his words are breathy and wavering, but so sweet. The small nickname gives you the butterflies you haven’t felt for a while. Not the nervous butterflies, but that tingling, excited feeling of fondness. It’s one of your favorite feelings, and you’re so glad Peter gives you them.

You listen to him, taking deep breaths. He takes the opportunity to push himself a bit further until he’s fully inside of you. He stays still, looking at your face as you grow more comfortable. He watches as your expression contorts into desperation, which is what he’s been waiting for.

“You’re so tight, honey. But you’re taking all of me. Knew you could,” Peter reassures you, even as you clench snuggly around him. It’s embarrassingly hard for him to stay still, given how warm you feel wrapping him.

“Please move. Fuck, I need to feel you.”

Slowly, Peter removes himself and then slots in again. You remember to breathe as his movements become less languid and more fluidly quick. Soon, his thrusts have a bit of speed, causing you to scratch his shoulders at the intensity.

“You’re so big… so deep,” Your moan bounces off the walls of the room, making Peter smirk as he continues to move. His cock pins your hips, shutting down your squirming.

“No one’s ever fucked you like this? Never been this good, baby?” A small huff of his breath hit your skin and you were awed. His words alone could get you off, and then he’s pumping himself perfecting inside of you too, just making you go insane. He knows where all the right spots are, lifting up one of your legs with ease to get a better angle. You love that you can just let him take over you without having to work for your orgasm like you’re used to. You’re used to being on top, but it’s evident that Peter just wants to take care of you. He wants you to be satisfied for once, and you’ve never felt so seen. You’ve never felt so… good.

“Y-You’re the only one,” You sigh as you bite your lip, loving the way he's speaking to you. He’s all sultry in tone and even sexier with his words. You believe he has no flaws that are worth noticing.

“S’right. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good. You can only take my cock like this, deep in your cunt,” All you can do is moan and shake as you feel your next orgasm approaching.

Just when you go to reach down to your clit to push yourself even further, he reads your mind and does it for you. His thick finger circles the throbbing bud until you’re arching your back. Your fingers play with the pebbled nipples on your chest as your insides grow more tight. You haven’t had an orgasm feel this intense yet, so it’s hard to anticipate the feeling.

“Gonna come, baby? Come all over my cock, I need to see it. Need to know I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

With one entire pump inside of you, you’re coming over Peter’s cock and showing him that he’s the only one. All you can see is his charming, fatigued smile surrounded by stars. His brown hair is tousled and a dash of sweat is above his eyebrows, but God, he’s never looked so fucking hot.

It’s not long after that he’s coming after you, his release filling the condom completely. Peter was trying his best to hold himself for as long as possible. But with you, he discovered it was very difficult. Like he thought, the second he was inside of you, he could’ve come. You’re so slick and warm, just so alluring.

He gets up from the bed to discard the condom in done trash while you lay there in naked awe. You already know that you’re going to be sore tomorrow like the day after the gym.

As Peter comes back, he has a wipe that he uses to clean you up.

“What are you doing?” You ask before he starts to wipe you.

“Cleaning you up. You know, like aftercare. You can go to the bathroom and even take a bath if you’d like,” Peter answers while you sit straight up dumbfounded. “May I?”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead,” You allow him to soothingly clean you while you just accept it. Your mind is still whirling with confusion. Are all guys supposed to do this? Or is he really just that great? “Thank you. I… No one’s ever done that before.”

“Really? God, you were really with some twats, Y/N,” he shakes his head and walks back to the bathroom while you chuckle. It’s funny that you had to go through those two guys in order to get to Peter. Third time’s the charm. “Want to take a bath?”

You ponder for a second. You were tired, but not like you would drown in the tub. Maybe if you had better stamina you would ask Peter to join you, but for now, maybe you just need to sit and think about what’s happening alone. Peter is too good to be true. He’s such a gentleman, he never misses a beat. You hope you’re not overstepping by accepting.

“Can I? Or is it too much—”

“Nonsense, I want you to be comfortable. Now, do you like the right or left side of the bed?” You stare at him in confusion. One, because that was a random question. And two, because when did he put on boxers?

“What?”

“Which side do you sleep on?” You felt your cheeks burn for some reason, and then you realize you’re still naked while he’s semi-dressed.

“Um right, I think. Why?”

“So you can sleep there. You are staying, aren’t you?” Peter’s cheeks tint rosy red, that peek of nervousness shining through. It made you smile because even if he seems too good to be true, there is a little human in there who’s just like you.

“Yes, of course,” You can visibly see his tenseness fade as a small smile grows on his lips.

“I’ll start the bath then get you some clothes then, or else you’ll keep me hard all night.”

Your skin burns, but you feel like that’s not the last time that will happen to you. Not with Peter. No, you know.

—

thank you all for being patient!! i also think this is the longest taglist i’ve ever had, so thank you again!! 💞

taglist:

-> @motheroffae @noa217 @nelly-belly97 @spidermanffh3000 @httpscomexe @mysticdaisy21 @emilyparkerholland @deathst9r @ellenita98 @ellabellabus07 @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @eatshitanddiee @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @likeapplejuicenpeach @winuvs

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnstyles #tom holland #peter parker #tom holland smut #peter parker smut #tom holland x you #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland fan fics #peter parker fan fics #tom holland fan fiction #peter parker fan fiction

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leahnardo-da-veggie · 7 months ago

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Introductions (2.1.1)

About me:

↪ Leah, she/her/any pronouns

↪ In my early 20s

↪ Reader, writer, sometime animator and artist

↪ Big cannibalism fan. Huge, really ;)

↪ Been doing martial arts for over a decade

↪Fan of CJ Cherryh

↪I reblog stuff from @leahpardo-pa-potato

My writing:

↪ Generally horror, with sides of fantasy

↪Posted in regular chunks of 500-1k words

↪I love tag games, esp OC ones :)

↪I do mini-series, one-shots, and novels

↪I will love you forever if you send me an ask

↪See my full list of one-shots here and my longer pieces below

My art and animation:

↪Masterpost here

↪Mostly blender 3d animations, though I do a bit of drawing too

↪ Don't expect it quite as often as my writing ;)

↪Just interact here to join the taglist!

WIPs / Longer stories

The Unwanted Visitor: (Completed)

Aida's house has been haunted by a spirit for as long as she can remember. Thing is, she's grown used to her Unwanted Visitor (or Vis, as she likes to call him). So when exorcists come after him, she does what any sane person would: protect her brother friend.

↪ Urban fantasy-comedy, very light-hearted

↪A lot of found family and sibling squabbling

↪If you like teens causing chaos, this is for you!

↪Final bit here

A Perfectly Normal Schoolgirl: (Completed)

All Katherine wants is to eat mortal food, bask in the warmth, and be a normal schoolgirl. But when a boy begs her to help him save her parents, she finds herself fighting for her (and his) life once more.

↪Urban fantasy with a side of horror

↪ Basically an inversion of a bunch of tropes

↪My attempt at writing fantasy without mentioning magic by name

↪Full thing here

Convenience Store Vampire: (Completed)

You'd expect vampires to be imposing and terrifying, masters of the night and princes of darkness. But that's not Davie, no siree. He's stuck down by Sunny Mart, working all day to scrape by. The last thing he wants is any trouble. Unfortunately for him, that's exactly what he's getting.

↪Silly urban fantasy shenanigans

↪ What it says on the tin + slice of life

↪Full thing here

A Tale for A Mouse: (Completed)

Who doesn't like to listen to evil old dark lords monologue about their childhood? Take a seat and come hear the story of the Spirit Emperor, as told by the man himself!

↪Cannibalism. Lots of it. World building too :D

↪High fantasy told via monologue

↪I cannot stress how proud I am of this.

↪Full thing here

Fast Food:

An embarrassment to his entire tribe, Hash is lazy and uninterested in anything. So, when he reaches majority, he gets unceremoniously booted out of home. Follow his adventures through Triworld, as he somehow ends up in every single single conflict across the continent.

↪High fantasy with a side of humour

↪Very heavy Lore™ and Worldbuilding™

↪ My excuse to ramble about fictional history

↪Latest bit here :) Also have @/illarian-rambling's rendition of Hash and her OC Elsind!

A Tale of Love, Death, and Maggots (Completed):

Doc's been wandering through hell for a good twenty years, now. He thought he'd seen it all. He thought he'd felt it all. He thought he'd lost it all. But it turns out love just has a way of crawling back into his chest and breaking his heart again.

↪ Tragedy?, fantasy?, horror?, Idk it's a weird little thing

↪I hope you like death because this sure has a lot of it

↪Full thing here, here's a moodboard of it and here is some fanart @/illarian-rambling made!

Lich-Queen (Completed):

Iraela has all but won: the King of Ceredell and his bride are gone, the cities fallen to her army of undead, and the way to the throne cleared for her. But her coronation, and her sanity threaten to fall apart under the weight of duty. Can she hold it together until she truly becomes Lich-Queen?

↪High, dark fantasy with some horror and gore

↪Watch Ira slowly lose her mind in real-time

↪If you like cannibalism, you'll love this

↪Full thing here, and here is fanart the lovely @/vampirelover890 drew?

The Novel™ (Mind of a Mercenary):

Luna, Terror of Garvenoi, mind-mage extraordinaire, has been caught at last. Whilst everyone celebrates, she is given an ultimatum: Be an indentured hunter for the government, or die. But when she signs on with them, she finds that perhaps death might have been a better choice...

↪ Urban Fantasy set in a Non-Earth world

↪Starring a sassy, mean-girl villain protagonist

↪Enjoy several hundred pages of Luna trying and failing to run from her duties

↪Find snippets here (find the others on my masterlist of writing)

Finally, my taglist! If you interacted with this post/already asked me to add you, and you don't see yourself here, please remind me! I may have accidentally missed you :')

Oh pls kill me I felt so silly doing this- Anyways bye guys hope to see y'all around don't judge me for this

#writeblr intro #writeblr cafe #writblr intro #writerscommunity #writing community #writer stuff #writblr #writerblr #writeblr #writing #Masterposts

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brokebonewritings · 11 months ago

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Be Mine, Forever?

Matt Murdock x Reader

Tags/ Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fluff, Valentine's Day Special

Summary: Your day is interrupted by an impromptu girl's day. and your night is filled with passion as Matt surprises you for Valentine's Day. You had a surprise for him as well. Song: Here (In Your Arms) - First Dance by Hellogoodbye

Word Count: 4.4K

Navigation | Series Masterlist

The day started normally enough. Of course, Valentine’s day fell on a week day this year so you were stuck at work. You sent Matt a few ‘Good Morning’ and ‘Happy Valentine's Day’ texts, but it's been radio silence from the other end. This was expected though, since he had already informed you that he was going to be in court all day.

You sit back at your desk, you've been preparing all month for a new exhibit at The Met. The plans that spread across your desk puzzle you as you try to figure out where to place each case and art piece.

As you meticulously arrange the plans for the new exhibit, your mind can't help but wander back to Matt. The silence from him is starting to feel unusual, as he's always been the one to send you sweet messages and surprises on special occasions. But you brush it off, he's never disappointed you.

Just as you're about to finalize the placement of the last art piece, Marci rushes into your office, a mix of urgency and excitement in her eyes. "Hey!"

"How did you get in here?" You respond with a raised eyebrow. "Did my assistant let you in?"

Just as you finish your question Justin, your assistant, rushes in behind her. "I am so sorry. I tried stopping her, but she is so fast in those heels."

"Lawyer walk." Both you and Marci say in unison.

She turns back to you with a smile plastered on her face. "I need you to come with me for the rest of the day."

"Marci, I can't just leave work in the middle of the day." You cross your arms over your chest.

"Oh yes you can, I already spoke to your boss! So come on." She grabs your coat that's by the door, along with your umbrella. "We got things to do, come on."

You sigh and thank Justin for trying, and invite him to also take the rest of the day off. Which he does happily.

"So what are we even going to do?" You ask. Grabbing your bag, and putting away your belongings.

"Well we're gonna go get ready for our Valentine's Date Nights, duh." She helps you get your coat on, and you both were off. "I just know that Foggy, and Matt are planning something special for us."

You smile at the thought. "Have you heard from Foggy today? I know they had a busy day."

"Not a word. You didn't hear it from me, but apparently their client is very demanding of their time."

"Oh shit, really?"

You loved the gossip you got from your lawyer friends. Not that it was filled with a ton of details. Client/Lawyer confidentiality and all that.

"Mhm, Needs lots of attention to detail." She says before dragging you into a nail salon. You realize how nice this salon is after looking around. "Hey, wait, I don't think I'm gonna be able to afford this right now. Trying to save up for a new apartment with Matt, remember?"

She laughs before checking the both of you in for the appointment she had already made. "Who said you were paying? It's all on me today, hun."

"Oh my god, no way! I seriously cannot accept this."

"Too late! It's already done, you don't wanna ruin this day for me do you?" She pouts after turning back to you.

You sigh and shake your head. "Thank you, this is incredibly kind of you."

"Don't even mention it. I wanna make sure we both are dolled up!"

You're both called back after about 5 minutes. The salon was nicer than you thought. When you had both settled at the manicure station, they had offered you both a glass of champagne. Who were you not to accept a free glass?

It was truly relaxing, you were glad that Marci got you out of work early. You both spent the next two hours getting your nails prepped for a night out. Usually you don't get long nails since you work with your hands most of the time, but she insisted you get something more elegant. You couldn't refuse since she was the one paying.

Just as the nail technician finished with your right hand, your phone buzzed on the table beside you. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Matt's name flashing on the screen. You quickly picked it up and answered, not wanting it to go to voicemail.

"Hey! Happy Valentine's Day!" You chirp happily. "How is court?"

There was a brief pause before Matt's voice came through, heavy with exhaustion. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart." It's been chaos. I couldn't even find a moment to catch my breath."

You let out a sigh of relief, understanding his predicament. "Then I guess tonight will be a good night to cash in one of those massages I owe you, huh?"

Hearing the low rumble of his chuckle sent chills through your body. "Yeah, guess it will be." He pauses. "I was wondering if you would meet me on the roof tonight, like we used to?"

"Yeah, of course I will." You blush, it has been a while since you both sat on the roof together. "What time do you want me there?"

"8:30. There is room for you to be fashionably late, of course."

You let out a giggle. "Yeah okay, 8:30 then. I'll see you then."

"I love you." He says with a loving sigh.

"I love you too." You respond before hanging up.

"Soooooo," Marci pipes up. "Romantic Dinner?"

The blush was still tinting your face from the conversation. "Yeah, on his rooftop."

"That sounds lovely, very romantic."

As you finish up at the nail salon, Marci insists on taking you to a cafe nearby. She called it a Galentine's Brunch, just the girls. When you both arrived, you were surprised to see that Karen was able to join you.

"I thought you were in court with Matt, and Fog?"

"Oh no, I told them I wouldn't be in today. Playing hookie." She laughed lightly. "Besides, Im not going to deny Marci a girls brunch. We need it."

As you settled into the cozy booth at the cafe, sipping on your latte, the three of you began catching up on each other's lives. Karen shared stories about her latest investigative assignment, Marci talked about her recent courtroom victories, and you filled them in on the details of the upcoming exhibit at The Met.

Marci nudges you playfully. "Have you thought about what you're going to wear?" she asks with a mischievous smile.

You shake your head, realizing that you've been so caught up in work and the surprise day off that you haven't even considered your outfit.

"I just figured I would wear what I was wearing right now."

"You're joking." Marci says. "You have to wear something else. Not saying that what you're wearing right now isn't cute, but this is Valentine's Day."

"Yeah you gotta wear something he can undress you with" Karen chimes in with a mischievous smile. "Cause you know he'll love it if you wore something hot."

"Okay, okay. I have been saving a silk dress for a special occasion."

"Silk? I gotta see this." Marci says forcefully.

You pull out your phone and find the dressing room photo you took of the dress in question. It was a lavender colored dress with a cowl neckline. They both stare at the photo then back to you.

"Where have you been hiding that!" Karen says in disbelief.

"In the back of my closet." You respond with a laugh. "I just didn't know how to style it."

"I will simply just have to come over and help you with that." Marci states.

"And." You pause. "There's matching lingerie."

They both squeal before you change the subject back to Marci and Foggy's plans for the evening.

You stare in the mirror at the dress you had shown Marci, and Karen earlier in the day.They had left about an hour ago to get ready for their own plans. Not without them giving your outfit their seal of approval though.

Sitting on your bed, you pull on the heels Marci had carefully chosen. This was going to be a good night, but you didn't know why the butterflies in your stomach felt so prominent. You haven't been this nervous since you started dating Matt.

Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that there's nothing to worry about. It's just a rooftop date with the love of your life. You run a hand down the front of your dress, feeling its smooth texture against your skin.

As you do your makeup, you can't help but replay all the beautiful moments you've shared with Matt. From late-night conversations under the stars to stolen kisses on the rooftop, every memory fills you with warmth and love. Tonight is just another chapter in your story together, a celebration of your deep connection.

With your hair styled in loose waves, you stand in front of the full-length mirror and admire the final look. The dress drapes perfectly over your figure, accentuating your best features. You feel confident, more confident than you've felt in years.

You look at the clock on your nightstand, and see that it just hit 8:00. Perfect. You grab your bag and set out walking towards his apartment building.

The city is alive with the energy of Valentine's Day. Lovers walk hand in hand, their laughter and joy filling the air. As you make your way through the bustling streets, you can't help but smile. The anticipation in your heart grows with every step.

Finally, you arrive at Matt's apartment building. Taking a deep breath, you enter and climb the stairs towards the rooftop. The familiar sound of the door creaking open greets you as you step onto the familiar space that holds so many precious memories.

The sun has already set, casting a magical glow over the city skyline. The soft twinkle of lights fills the air, creating an atmosphere that feels straight out of a fairy tale. And there he is, standing near the edge of the rooftop, tall and handsome as ever.

Matt turns as he hears your footsteps approaching. A smile spreads across his face, lighting up his eyes in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. That's when you realize that you're not alone. You turn to see that your friends are there. Not only your friends but also your Aunt May and Peter.

"What is happening right now?" You say with a nervous laugh.

"Sweetheart," You hear him say and you turn back and give him your full attention. "I have been meaning to do this for a while, but I didn't know how to go about it."

"Matt, are you?" You begin before he cuts you off with a kiss.

"Ever since I met you I have been so entranced by you.You've brought so much light and love into my life, and I can't imagine a future without you by my side," Matt says, his voice filled with sincerity. He takes a step back, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small velvet box. Opening it to reveal a dainty opal ring, he drops to one knee.

You stand there for a moment, wondering if this was actually happening or if you were have a really specific dream.

"Will you marry me?" Matt asks, his voice filled with vulnerability and love.

The world around you seems to fade away as you lock eyes with him, feeling a mixture of excitement and overwhelming joy. The weight of his question hangs in the air, and time seems to stand still.

Tears well up in your eyes as you try to find your voice. This moment feels like a dream, but the warmth in your heart tells you it's all too real. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the question like a beautiful promise.

"Yes," you whisper, barely able to contain your joy. "Yes, Matt, I will marry you."

The rooftop erupts in cheers and he stands and slips the ring onto your finger. You glance around, realizing that they had all conspired together to create this magical moment. Aunt May wipes away a tear of happiness while Peter grins ear to ear. Marci and Karen are practically jumping up and down with excitement, their eyes shining with joy. Foggy is trying to conceal his tears by wiping his eyes with his sleeves.

Embracing Matt tightly, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. This rooftop, once a place of solace and refuge for the two of you, now holds even more significance. It symbolizes the foundation of your future together, a place where love can blossom and dreams can be realized.

Amidst the cheers and laughter, you take a moment to soak in the beauty of this milestone in your relationship. The twinkling lights of the city below seem to dance in celebration, mirroring the joy in your hearts.

"This is so epic, and I got it all on video." Peter says amidst the celebration.

As the cheers die down, Aunt May steps forward, her eyes glistening with tears. "Oh, darling" she says, her voice filled with emotion. "I couldn't be happier for you both. You deserve all the love in the world. Your father would have loved Matt."

"Thanks Aunt May." You say with a tearful smile.

As the rooftop continues to buzz with excitement and congratulations, you and Matt share a tender moment together. He pulls you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. You feel safe and cherished as you rest your head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat echoing in your ears.

"I love you so much," Matt murmurs softly, his voice filled with emotion. "And I promise to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

You look up at him, your eyes filled with adoration. "I love you too, Matt," you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. "And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

After the shared dinner with all of your friends and family, you all decide it's time to head home to spend the rest of Valentine's Day in the comfort of your homes.

Saying goodbye to everyone, you and Matt clean the roof top and share a few intimate moments with kisses and lingering touches.

On your way back down the stairs, you can feel Matt's presence hovering over you. So you stop for a moment and turn to see what he is doing. As you turn, you feel his hand slide up your jaw as he pushes you against the wall. You gasp as he presses himself against you, one hand around your neck and the other sitting on your waist.

"Ive been waiting all day to be alone with you." He growls into your ear before kissing you roughly.

Your heart races as his lips claim yours, a hunger and desire that electrifies your senses. The intensity of his touch against the coolness of the wall sends shivers down your spine.

His hands explore every inch of your body, igniting a fire within you that only he can quench. The urgency and longing in his kisses leave you breathless.

With each touch, each caress, the connection between you deepens. Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, driven by a love that transcends words.

As he pulls away, you feel dizzy with the intensity of his attack. "We need to get back to your apartment." You state.

"Oh do we?" He questions. "I have no problem ravishing you right here in this stairwell."

You huff, as you stare at his smirking face. "I would actually love for you to ruin this dress, but in the comfort of our bed."

"Our bed?"

"Yes, our bed." You smirk as you push his hands away and begin to walk back to his apartment.

He follows closely behind you, his eyes never leaving your body. The desire he has for you is palpable, and it fuels you as well. As you pass each door, you can't help but imagine what would happen behind your own.

Approaching his door, you grab the keys from his hand and begin to unlock the door.

"I promise, I'll ruin that dress, right here," he whispers in your ear, causing you to shiver.

You hear the click of it unlocking as you turn to him, "Well, Mr. Devil. Ruin the dress then." you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

As the door creaks open, the sound echoes throughout the hallway, the anticipation in the air is palpable. Together, you step inside and kick the door shut behind you. He pins you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body like a man possessed.

He seems desperate to claim you, to conquer every inch of you. You're aching for him too, the want and need between you undeniable. You need his touch, his kiss, his warmth. You're completely vulnerable to him, ready to give yourself to him in every way.

His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, his hands holding your neck as your fingers dig into his shirt. You break the kiss, both of you panting heavily, your hearts pounding in sync.

"I love you so much," you whisper, your voice shaking with emotion.

"And I love you more," Matt replies, his voice filled with warmth and devotion.

With that his hands grip the top of your dress and he pulls, ripping the dress down the front. You moan at the intensity of the moment. He really did ruin the dress.

You're left in the lingerie you had on underneath as the dress drops to the floor. He takes a moment before feeling up your sides and realizes what you have on.

"Oh you dirty girl." He groans. "You wanted this to happen tonight, didn't you?"

You smile, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Maybe I did"

"Well, I'm not complaining." He says slowly. "You have no idea how hard this is making me."

"I think I have some idea." You say as you lift your knee, feeling his erection already straining under the fabric of his pants.

His hand maneuvers down to pull your lingerie to the side, revealing your most intimate parts. "I'm going to make you scream, baby."

With that, he lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom. The moment you step into the room, he drops you onto the bed and crawls on top of you.

"I want you so bad," he growls into your mouth. You feel his erection pressing into your thigh, and you're more than ready for him.

He breaks the kiss and starts to unbutton his shirt, you lay back watching as he undresses himself. What a sight it was, he could have been a Greek god.

Once he's stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you again, his hand traveling down your body, tracing patterns on your skin as he does. His fingers run along the edge of your underwear and you shudder at the sensation.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulls them down, revealing your naked body to him. He leans down and begins to kiss your inner thigh, nuzzling into the most inner part.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his thumbs brushing against your waist.

Before you can respond, his tongue swipes up against your core. You gasp at the sudden electricity of the situation. He repeats the motion, his tongue swirling around your clit in slow, steady circles. Your hips start to rise in response, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. You arch your back, moaning softly.

Matt responds with a gentle growl, his fingers still moving against your waist, caressing your skin. He reaches down and slowly pushes two fingers inside you, drawing out a loud moan.

His other hand moves to your breast, gently squeezing and kneading it. You mewl, your body trembling with need. His tongue continues to dance around your most sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh, Matt," you moan, "I need you inside me."

He stops his ministrations, lifting his head towards you. "Not yet," he says, standing up and helping you off the bed. "I want to make you beg for it."

He leads you over to a table by the window, bending you over it. The cool glass feels amazing against your naked skin, as you're exposed to the room with your legs spread apart.

Matt positions himself behind you after dropping his boxers. You can feel his erection pressing against your ass, precum leaking out. You know he's ready for it.

"You're going to make me come so hard," you whisper.

He rubs his tip against your entrance, teasing you, making you crave him even more. Sliding his cock between your folds. You push back against him for any sort of friction.

A loud crack echoes through the apartment. His hand lingers, massaging the area he just spanked. "You need to be a good girl for me. Or else the next one will be a lot harder. Do you understand?"

You nod, pleasure spread across your face as you lean against the table.

"Good girl, sweetheart. Such a good listener."

Beginning to slide against you once again, you hold back every instinct to push back against him. With every teasing thrust, you feel electrified, your desire for him only growing. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves every moment.

He slowly begins to tease your hole as you stand there whimpering. Pushing the head inside you, and quickly taking it out.

"Please, Matt, fuck me," you plead. "I can't take it anymore."

He pulls away, a devious grin on his face. "Not yet," he says, kissing the side of your face.

He picks you up, carrying you over to the bed. He lays you down, spreading your legs wide apart and kneeling between them.

"I need you to beg. Okay, sweetheart?" He says and you nod.

He slips two fingers into you, pumping and curling to find your sweet spot. You cry out in pleasure as he hits you right where it feels good.

"Please, oh god, Matt" You moan loudly. "I'm going to come, please I need you in me."

That must have been enough for him. With a low growl, Matt plunges into you, filling you up to the hilt. He thrusts deep inside you in one swift motion, the bed frame creaking under the force of his passion.

He pulls out almost immediately, leaving you emptiness. "Please," you beg, wanting more.

He chuckles softly, teasing you by running his cockhead up and down your slit. "Patience, sweetheart. I want this to last."

He thrusts back into you, moving slowly, savoring every moment. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

The way his cock pulsed inside of you was almost too much to bear. He began to pick up the pace, each thrust harder than the last.

You let out a loud, trembling moan, your head falling back as pleasure washed over you.

"I love you," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

"I love you too," you choke out, the emotions taking over you.

He picks up his pace, driving into you harder and faster, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. Your body responds in kind, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

"I'm going to come," you gasp, your voice breaking as your orgasm starts to build.

Matt's thumb found your sensitive clit, sending you soaring towards the edge. "Come for me, baby." he growls.

You let out a wail, your nails digging into his back as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your inner walls clenched around him, milking him as you shook uncontrollably.

He continued to thrust into you, driving you further over the edge. Your orgasm seemed to go on forever, your body writhing beneath him in pure ecstasy.

Finally, he slides out of you, leaving your inner walls quivering. He pulls you into his arms, holding you close as your heartbeats sync.

You lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking.

"My ass hurts." You after taking a deep breath. He begins to chuckle as you giggle.

"Sorry, too much?"

"Not at all."

"Good" He says as he pulls you closer and peppers your face with kisses.

As you lay there entwined in each other's arms, your skin still flushed and sweaty, you can't help but smile. This was more than just sex; it was a powerful expression of love and intimacy.

Matt pulls away and smiles, a look of pure contentment on his face. "I just can't get enough of you."

You giggle and wrap your arms around him, feeling safe and loved in his embrace.

"Can we talk about the fact that we're engaged now?"

"I've been planning it for the last 2 weeks with Foggy, Peter, and your Aunt May."

"There is no way that Peter kept a secret for that long. How did you even manage that."

"You can thank your aunt for that one. She basically grounded him from texting you."

This made you both laugh. "You know, I'm gonna have to get used to being called Mrs. Murdock."

A smile spreads across his face, "I'm already getting used to it."

As he pulls you in for another kiss, you can't help but feel a rush of emotion. This man. This strong, protective, and passionate man, is now your fiancé. The thought brings a smile to your face, and you wrap your arms around him even tighter.

"I can't wait to see what the future holds for us," you whisper.

He pulls away slightly, a gentle smile on his face. "The future is ours, my love. And I promise to love and cherish you, always."

"Though I do have one complaint."

"And what is that?" He raises an eyebrow.

"You never asked me to be your valentine."

Chuckling, he pulls your hips closer before whispering in your ear. "Be Mine, Forever?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

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brabblesblog · 1 year ago

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Safety

Part 6 of the Goodnight Moon series

The confession has its repercussions.

More angst (happy ending at the end of the series) and more slow, slow burn.

Read on AO3.

Part 5

Part 7

Masterlist.

Astarion hears the words, but it doesn't really register. What? He blinks, taking a moment for it to sink in. He had heard those same words before, countless times from countless lips - lips soon to be screaming and crying as Cazador took them away. He instinctively flinches away from your grasp, taking a sharp breath. This isn't the same situation, he tries to remind himself, but is it not?

Did he not manipulate his way into your bed? Into your heart? Did he not do this to send you Cazador's way? To kill him this time, sure, but what difference did that make?

And shouldn't he be happy? Your devotion to him was clearly written on your face. You died for him. Surely you would go to the ends of the earth to rid him of Cazador. But all he feels is a mix of relief and a twisted pain in his chest where his heart was. Relief that you had finally come back to him, yes, but that pain - he refused to look too deeply into it.

He looks to your soft, sad eyes and slipped his mask back on. It takes seconds to do, seconds you would have normally seen but not right now in your current condition.

"That's even worse, darling," he hisses, trying to bring as much venom into his words. "Love is for the foolish, the unlucky, the damned. I-," he almost falters, but presses on, "I don't do love. Let's just keep this fun, alright?"

You look away. Of course. That explained those faraway eyes whenever you were together. You try not to cry, but it was hard. Not expecting anything in return was one thing, but having your feelings dismissed so nonchalantly was another. You nod curtly and lay back down, stretching your neck out. If this was the case, you can only really think of one reason he'd be here.

"I understand," you say, in a small whisper, eyes brimming with tears. He can see it, can almost taste your pain, but he cannot - will not - do anything about it. "Just feed, please, and then you can go. I need to rest."

He stares at you in confusion. "Why would I - you're -"

He stops himself, realizing why. Instead he shakes his head. "You don't really have much blood left inside you, so I shall abstain today. I just came by on the way to hunt to make sure my little snack was going to be alright. And it seems like you are." He pats your hand twice, awkwardly. "I shall go, then. Good night," he says a little too cheerily, turning to leave.

If he hears the soft muffled sounds of your sobbing as he does, he ignores it.

As the days pass you slowly recover, thanks to Shadowheart and Halsin's help. You have been staying with the druid more often of late, as he helped you walk and would carry you when your body finally gave up walking. Astarion seemed to be acting like nothing had happened between you that night. He was back to his usual flirty, sassy self, and you were all too happy to just let that happen. There were too many problems for you and everyone at camp, and you were all too happy to just push this one to the side for now.

You still asked him to come feed on you at night, and without fail he would show up. Your little conversations in your tent remained the same. The only thing that changed was that whenever he would reach out - to touch your hand, or to cup your cheek - you would flinch slightly, but let him do it anyway. It meant nothing to him, you knew, but you couldn't really resist these small morsels of affection he gave no matter how insincere it was.

As the group traveled the underdark and the shadow cursed lands, Astarion begins spending more time at your tent after he had fed. There was nothing to hunt here, the lands barren and desolate. Inevitably it brought you two closer, but you knew not to let hope into your heart.

"Tomorrow we have to look for last night inn," you say, yawning. He had fed a lot today, as the fights had taken a lot of his energy. He nods and takes your hand, lazily tracing your knuckles. "Mm. I shall scout ahead. Which direction was it again?"

You frown. "Why do you like being in front? You don't trust me to have your back anymore? We used to fight back to back and- ugh. Never mind." You worry you pushed too far, asked too many things and upset the delicate situation you two had.

He tilts his head to meet your eyes. His were oddly round and shiny, as though he was about to cry.

"To keep you safe," he says in such a small voice that it's almost inaudible. You notice that his hand gripped yours tightly now, terrified of letting go.

"I can keep myself safe, Astarion. If anything, I keep you safe," you say, joking a little bit. He does not find it the least amusing. His eyes narrow and he almost hisses. "No," he says, his voice low and rough. "You are incapable of that, darling. You did it once, and it killed you. No more."

You take a deep breath, trying not to react in a way that would push him away. "Thank you for your concern. I am well though. I have been training with Halsin as well. I have seen my errors and am improving in combat. You can ask him."

His grip in your hand is almost painful now. He wants to scream, to tell you how much fear he felt when you died, how he could never live through that again. He bites his lip hard, enough to draw blood.

"Be as it may, me leading in the front has been beneficial to the group," he says quickly. It was true, to a point. He knew though that he had to leave. Any more of this conversation, and he was afraid he'd open his mouth and his heart would come spilling out onto your hands.

"Thank you, yet again, for the blood," he says as he slaps on a well-practiced smirk. "I shall see your delicious self tomorrow."

You nod, closing your eyes and settling in for the night.

He gives you once last glance, and is unable to completely stop himself. He leans over you and you feel soft lips press against yours. You feel a soft gust of wind as the tent flap is opened and when you open your eyes, he is gone.

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sotwk · 28 days ago

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Holiday updates!

Unfortunately, it looks like I wouldn't be able to deliver on my Yuletide in the Elvenking's Realm this Christmas season, as I had planned. Although I have been having a very merry (albeit hectic) holiday season offline with my family, my Tumblr experience since Thanksgiving has been rather bah-humbug.

I'm not sure why; my Moots are being lovely as usual, but overall the vibes are off. Perhaps it is a *me* issue. I feel oddly out-of-place and even rejected because I noticed a weird, sudden drop in my follower count (by like 10+)--which is possibly a site glitch, but it's disconcerting nonetheless. I know Follower count doesn't matter here, but you cannot truly care about your Followers as individuals without tracking how many there are, could you? And I do happen to care about each person that chooses to follow me; I'm not cool enough to pretend not to notice.

Anywayyyyy... on top of that humbug-ness, I have been experiencing crippling writer's block for weeks. It's not even that I cannot seem to write; I actually am hating my writing right now! And when I try to read my talented friends' fics for inspiration, I just feel more disappointed in my own (perceived) lack of skill. This is a normal feeling for a writer that happens to everyone occasionally, but it's pretty bad. If this type of writer burnout is allowed to fester, it's what often leads writers to quit. So I'm trying to be careful and gentle with myself and not push too hard.

I don't want to work on any of my precious WIPS when I'm in this kind of mood; the sourness would seep into my writing! Especially my Yuletide series, which is supposed to be filled with joy and hope! So alas, that would just have to wait another year.

But now for some positive news! My dear husband has bought me a new laptop for Christmas! He's a stickler for rules and tradition, so I can't open it until Christmas Day, but once I set it up, my sister can give me her gift--the Scrivener software!

I've decided to spend the rest of December taking it easy by not pushing myself to produce anything; instead I will just try to set myself up for a strong start to 2025 when I come back from my post-Christmas vacation (going on a road trip to see family). The new laptop and software should give me a little boost! :) And I gotta go learn how to use Scrivener now--lol!

I hope everyone reading this is having as good a Christmas season as possible. <3 This is the time of year when I truly wish everyone can experience joy and peace, whatever or however you celebrate. If there is anything at all that I can do to help you be merry, my Ask Box and DMs remain open. Please know that you are very loved.

One the flipside, if anyone would like to send some Christmas joy my way, please sign my Christmas tree (I saw some Mutuals doing this!) and/OR give my Yuletide series a try! Every little bit of cheer helps!

Yuletide in the Elvenking's Realm Series (Tumblr link)

#sotwk updates #sotwk personal #holidays #christmas #yuletide in the elvenking's realm #sotwk ocs #writing #writer stuff #sotwk fanfic #writer's block #follower appreciation

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majokkid · 4 months ago

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Contacting an Incubator

It feels like most of the magical heroes, or aspiring magical heroes, in my orbit are working within the paradigm of Puella Magi Madoka Magica and I’ve seen many requests across platforms for tips regarding contacting Kyubey or another Incubator.

For the uninitiated, an Incubator is a ‘messenger of magic’; they grant a wish in exchange for service as a magical hero. In Puella Magi Madoka Magic and related works, those who form a contract with an Incubator must defeat witches—corrupted entities that feed upon the hopes and dreams of the masses.

Note: While this agreement may seem fair to some and the Incubator may seem enthusiastic to help by any means necessary, Incubators are known for their calculating ways and almost trickster-like mentality. Incubators cannot exhibit emotions of any kind and as a result Incubators often seem cold and uncaring. However, Incubators seek to achieve only one main goal; to preserve the universe from total entropy. To ensure this, they employ all logical and efficient means to create magical heroes.

You may want to try contact an Incubator if you want to initiate your magical hero journey or if you want clarity or direction regarding this kind of work. I’ve seen evidence of folks using a variety of methods in order to contact an Incubator, namely through evocation, divination, and invocation/channeling techniques. If you are a solo practitioner looking for this communication, I would definitely recommend the routes of evocation and divination. Here is how I would go about contacting an Incubator:

Prepare a dimly lit space with a mirror, and/or perhaps a candle, where you can work with minimal distractions. Banish as you would normally and prepare to meditate.

Position yourself comfortably in front of the mirror or candle. If you have both, try to place the candle beneath the reflection of your face or off to the side—just try to not obstruct the view of your reflection.

Relax your body and begin meditating with your eyes closed. Try to not focus on anything in particular and steady your breathing into regular intervals.

When you are satisfied with your breathing, open your eyes and stare into your reflection with a soft gaze (as in, you do not have to fight to keep your eyes wide open). Try to keep your eyes open for as long as possible before blinking and repeating, all the while keeping your breathing regular.

After a bit, you may notice your reflection changing or distorting, or you may start seeing things on the periphery of your vision. This is when, I believe, an Incubator may approach you—either by appearing behind or beside you visibly in the mirror or by altering your reflection entirely. This is when you can initiate telepathic conversation. Try to keep your breathing regular throughout this experience.

At this point, you can continue communicating telepathically or introduce a divinatory tool. If you want to use a form of divination, I recommend something simple like using a pendulum or automatic writing—something that is not too complex or requires a lot of effort as to not distract you from your breathing or could potentially break your connection.

When you are satisfied, or the Incubator leaves, close your eyes and ease out of state. Snuff any lit candles and banish to clear the space.

This post is part of my Magi Praxis series. If you have any suggestions for future topics, or you have attempted anything I have shared and want you share your experiences, please send me a message! I am always happy to go back and provide further explanation as well. ☆

#chaos magick #pop culture magic #magi praxis #puella magi madoka magica #kyubey #incubator #summoning #divination #evocation #magical kid #magical girl #mahou shoujo #real magical girl #irl magical girl #irl mahou shoujo #magick #magia

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earth616variant · 2 years ago

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the send-off | s.r ; 4

summary | Being his best friend and assistant, Howard Stark asked you to be the first one to be tested on his time machine project. After some unexpected errors, you ended up stuck in the modern times of the 21st century. Where you meet the man you thought died years ago: Steve Rogers.

pairing/s | steve rogers x reader, avengers x reader

word count | 5k+

genres | angst, fluff, crack, time travel au, unrequited love au

warnings | mention of blood, idiots…

note | after months, here's a new update! finally found the inspiration to write again :)) I apologize for the long delay. anyway, let me know your thoughts on this one. enjoy reading!

series masterlist

“Ugh… What to do? What to do?” you hummed.

It’s been days since your arrival in this era. And so far, everything is fine. Confusing but fine. You were still having nightmares that always woke you up. But you didn’t bother to tell anyone about it. It’s probably a normal reaction.

Since the superheroes in the compound have alternative schedules for their missions, you found yourself rubbing shoulders with whoever Avenger is in the compound. It’s obvious that they don’t want you to feel excluded and made it clear that they don’t mind you asking questions if you find something puzzling.

You usually bond with the youngest one, Peter Parker, who is always around since he is, based on what he said, “a friendly neighborhood superhero”. It means that he doesn’t go out of the country, like Natasha or Steve, or even this state for a mission since he still has classes to attend and he explains that his aunt won’t let him go anywhere far and dangerous. Understandable, you thought. The kid is only sixteen. But for now, Peter is staying back with his aunt in their apartment while the others are on their missions. He has a schedule for staying between the compound and his aunt’s place.

Clint is with his family, who you heard lived in this secret farmhouse. Tony is probably home too. You don’t really know. You kind of feel that he avoids being alone with you. Wanda is resting in her room. You don’t want to disturb her as you saw her coming home earlier, looking really exhausted.

When he can, Steve also kept you company. Of course, you enjoyed talking to him about his life after the whole defrosting thing. But sometimes, you felt like a disturbance or a burden in his free time. You thought, maybe he just wants to rest. Perhaps he just feels bad for you. So, you try to not stay around him all the time if he’s home.

So, you really have nothing to do. You have books but you don’t feel like reading now. You have this novel that you liked so much, you just finished it today. The compound also has this large, flat television but you don’t feel like watching anything either. It’s not like you’re not used to being alone. You’re always alone before! But at least you have a job to take up all your time. With all this free time, you cannot help but miss doing something in the laboratory. Computing numbers or testing prototypes with Howard. You wondered if your best friend ever finished that flying car he kept on re-working. You figured, maybe not. You see that people in this modern time still use four-wheeled cars.

“Oh, hey, Doctor Y/N.”

Sometime in the afternoon, Bruce Banner went out to the kitchen to get himself something to drink. That is where he sees you, looking all bored and spacing out. You forced a smile at him and greeted him back,

“Hello, Doctor Banner.”

“Bruce. You can call me Bruce.” he smiled as he opened a can of rootbeer.

“Then, you can call me just by my name too,” you replied, tapping on the hardbound book you had with you. You tried not to be obvious as you examined his look. With his eyeglasses and white coat, you know he’s been working in his laboratory.

After taking a sip from his drink, he spoke, “What are you up to in here, Y/N?”

Hearing that question, you instantly sighed heavily, making your shoulder slump, “Nothing really. I’ve been watching the paint dry, Bruce.”

Thankfully, the scientist caught on to your use of words. He chuckled before asking you, “Do you want to go to the lab?”

You swore you jumped from where you were sitting when Bruce said that. He took it as a yes and you two walked together back to his laboratory. Instantly, you were in awe of the place. There are screens and machinery everywhere. You don’t understand how these new gadgets work but you cannot wait to hear about them. This is like something you dreamed of.

“Here.”

Bruce handed you a white lab coat and you immediately grabbed it, wearing it excitedly. Damn, you missed wearing it. You stood next to him in front of his messy desk, which is pretty normal. Notes were everywhere. Even pens and crumpled papers. You’re starting to miss your own messy work table.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” Bruce spoke, referencing his desk.

You smiled, “It’s fine. It means you’re really working hard for something.”

Slipping your hands into the coat’s pockets, you wander around the spacious lab. You try to stop yourself from touching anything, fearing that you might mess something up. So like a little kid, your eyes just show your enthusiasm as you watch some type of liquid flow into a transparent tube.

“What are you working on?” you asked, turning your head to Bruce.

“Something that can help the world, hopefully.” he chuckled. He walked next to you, “It’s a serum that may help cancer patients.”

“That’s nice,” you whispered, eyes still distracted.

“Yeah. But it’s still an experiment. This is the first time I’m working on something like this again after I tried to recreate the super soldier serum.”

Your eyebrows raised as you looked at him, “You tried to recreate that serum?!”

Steve did not tell you about that. No one told you that someone in the compound tried to recreate it. You always wondered what Dr. Ernskine did to that serum since it seems very impossible to reproduce. But now that you’re in this modern era, people have more resources and findings. Maybe Bruce succeed.

Bruce stared back at you with a small smile, “It’s what brought me here, Y/N.”

“Cap. You okay?”

Tony asked as soon as he made sure the auto-pilot was set on the plane. Instead of answering, Steve grunts while pressing a hand on the right side of his stomach. Blood was gushing out from the stab wound he got from this mission. Bucky, on the other hand, also earned bruises on his face and small cuts on his arm. The two admittedly underestimated this mission. They didn’t expect that a hundred members will show up in this cult-like mob they raided. Thankfully, Tony was able to answer an emergency call.

“Those guys really got you cornered. Whoever stabbed you would probably brag about the fact he got to stab Captain America. Too bad he died.” Tony quipped, trying to lighten the mood. He signaled to Bucky to pass him a bandage.

Steve listened with exhaustion running in his veins. He breathed out as he closed his eyes, leaning his head on the surface behind him.

“You know, you got to be more careful now…” Tony suddenly spoke, sounding a bit serious. Steve opened his eyes and look at his friend who was focused on cleaning his wound. It took minutes of silence– since Tony made sure that his wound won’t get infected– before he continued, “You have a girlfriend waiting at home.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Tony,” Steve replied sternly.

His best friend still managed to chuckle at that. Steve groaned when Tony slightly applied pressure to his wound. Not that Steve doesn’t like the idea of you as his romantic partner, he just doesn’t want to tolerate this kind of teasing from his friends. They might get used to it and make you uncomfortable whenever you’re with him.

Tony rolled his eyes, “Okay, whatever. But my point is you are Y/N’s closest friend in the compound right now and I don’t think she will like seeing you come back like this. I mean, you already died before and Dad told me a lot of things that happened.”

Steve tilted his head quizzically. He looked at Bucky who shared the same expression on his face.

“What–”

“There.” Tony got up as if he didn’t just say something. He pointed at Bucky. “And you too, buddy. Bring more backup next time. Something worse could have happened. You’re lucky I’m just another country away for a presentation.”

He walked back to his seat as the pilot, ignoring the confusion and curiosity from the two a-decade-old super soldiers.

“That was your last memory?”

Bruce sat in front of you, typing on his laptop as you nodded an answer. A couple of hours after inviting you, you two ended up just chatting in his laboratory. Bruce told you about the time he recreated the supersoldier serum. You learned his history and how he joined this league of superhumans. He was open to sharing his struggle in accepting his power and learning to control himself from being Bruce and the Hulk.

After that, he ended up giving you a tour of his laboratory. You would share how a gadget you had before evolved into what he has now in these modern times. Your curiosity about these said gadgets made his offer to teach you whenever he can and you happily agreed. Although you’re still unsure if you’re staying here for the rest of your life, you think that it will be good to adapt in the meantime.

“The time machine…” your voice trailed off as you brought up the topic. “How did you and Tony make it?”

You’ve been wanting to ask someone about their version of a time machine here. But since Howard’s son was a bit distant, you get to talk about it with Bruce now.

Bruce shakes his head, “It was unsuccessful.”

“It brought me here.” you countered, pursing your lips.

The air around you two was suddenly all serious and Bruce feels it. You were just wondering how they built their time machine. How did they make it work? It was seemingly more successful than Howard’s. Was it because of the current and upgraded technologies? Did they use different formulas than Howard? Did they make their own original version that was way different than what you and your best friend worked on in the past?

Bruce looked at you for seconds like he was contemplating if he should tell you. Then, he exhaled, removing his glasses.

“Tony brought the blueprint and basically the whole plan for it months ago. He said he found it when he was digging up in his dad’s office in their old house.”

“Wait.” your eyebrows scrunched together as you paused. You take your time processing his answer. You made sure you understood it by saying, “So… it was originally Howard’s… The blueprint for it?”

He nods, “Yes, Tony found it along with other plans his dad never worked on. We just used other materials than the outdated ones...”

You didn’t really listen to the rest of his words when you heard the first sentence. Your eyes stared at some space. Never worked on? He means, Howard made this plan and never worked on it? Does it mean that if your best friend just worked it, you could have been back earlier than this era? Your hand slowly pressed a hand on your chest and you felt your heartbeat getting quicker Bruce quickly noticed it and you looked up at him with your eyes screaming in confusion and surprise, hurt.

“When did Howard plan it?” you asked. Your voice was weak and you almost said it in a whisper.

Although confused, Bruce replied, “1977. It was written on the bottom of the blueprint.”

Your brain was quick in computing it. It was thirty years after your disappearance. You feel like shaking as you blinked away the tears that were blurring your sight.

“W-Where can I find this blueprint? I want to see it.”

The change in your tone and expression made Bruce ask, “Y/N, are you okay–”

“Where?” you asked again instead of answering.

“Uh, Tony has it.”

You ran your palms all over your face, calming yourself down. You breathe out. You knew you had to stop yourself from crying as you cannot stand doing it again. It’s pointless. You’ve been tearing up ever since you came here and you have never been this vulnerable. You don’t like it. Before Bruce can repeat a word, you sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “I… I was just surprised Howard planned on building another time machine and never made a move on it.”

Bruce hummed quietly and replied, “It’s fine… Everything must have been a lot to you.”

You chuckled, trying to lighten up the atmosphere, “Yeah, it’s a real bummer and I think it makes me blow a fuse really easily. I swear I was never this emotional.”

If he did it, would I have come back earlier?

The question floats in your head as you set your eyes on the quiet lake just outside the compound. You pulled your knees closer to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. The sky was already dimming down as the sun already set. Nature was quiet and the only loud thing was your brain with all these questions you were asking yourself.

There was a part of you who wished you shouldn’t have just asked Bruce. Maybe you wouldn’t feel this way. But you were always curious about things, so you asked. And here you are, having this moment. As if knowing about Howard’s plans is not enough, you still had thoughts if you can ask Tony about it. You let out an exasperated, hopeless exhale. Maybe not.

“Dr. Y/N!”

You snapped out of your deep thoughts when you heard your name. Turning your head to your side, you spotted Peter approaching with a smile on his face. He waved his hand, and your lips form a small smile.

“Hey… I thought you were staying with your aunt tonight?”

He sat beside you on the green grass, “I’m just staying here until nine. Then, I’ll go back home. I dropped by to see if you’re baking tonight.”

You giggled, “Well, today’s not your lucky day, kid. But I think we still have a few brownies in the jar from the other day.”

“I checked. It’s already empty.” he feigned disappointment, holding his chest, and you two chuckled. “How was your day here, doc?”

“Boring. I haven’t really done much. Bruce saw me in the kitchen earlier and invited me to his lab. I just miss doing something again.“ you confessed with a hint of frustration in your tone. “How about you, kid?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Eh, just school. I and my friend Ned ended up in detention because he cannot stop talking about this new movie during chemistry class. Then, our other friend, MJ joined us since she said she enjoys going to detention. We planned to eat something after but MJ has a part-time job to go to.” Peter shared and you feel that he was pretty satisfied with how his day went.

“Well, at least one of us got to bond with their friends,” you scoffed. “I have to get used to my friends being superheroes.”

“They are usually busy, aren’t they?”

You nod, “Yeah. It actually made me feel jobless.”

You two laughed at that. You resumed, “I can’t believe I finished two books in a short period– Speaking of books, I was wondering if you could lend me a hand.”

“For what?”

“Oh, you know that novel I’ve been reading these past few days?”

“Ah, the one with the whole time machine plot too?”

“Yes. I… I really loved the book. Is there any way I can reach out to the author? Maybe write them a letter? I just really want to let them know that it’s a good story.”

Maybe it’s because of a lot of free time on your hand. But you just really adored the plot and the novel itself. You found it in the new releases section of the bookstore you went to days ago. But the story was set around your time, in the 40s, and mainly revolved around time traveling, which initially pulled you into buying it. It was accurate by the era it was in, and it made you feel closer to where you came from. Now, you just finished it and it was beautiful even though it was left on a cliffhanger. It causes you something to look forward to.

“We can try to reach out. Maybe they have e-mail. It’s faster than sending them written letters.” Peter suggests.

You cocked an eyebrow, “What’s an email?”

“Oh, it’s electronic mail. It’s like the modern type of exchanging letters with other people. Instead of asking for the person’s home address, they can just give you their email address. Then, you can send them a message with the computer or cellphone.” he explains and you nod.

“How about your laptop?”

He nods, “Yeah, we can also use that.”

You two ended up walking back to the compound. Peter helped you with creating your own e-mail address and typing your message to the author. You wanted to learn and get used to with using this gadget so you offered to type yourself. He was patient enough to teach you with the keys on the keyboard as you type.

“So, it automatically saves itself as a draft?”

You moved the cursor on the screen as you glided your index finger on the touchpad of his laptop. It wasn’t a long message but it was genuine. You re-read the whole thing again before passing the laptop to Peter.

“Yeah, what’s the name of the author again?” the boy asked before opening a new tab in the browser.

“Oh, wait…” you reached for the book and read the huge, bold name written on the front cover. “It’s… Donald S. Burton.”

“Okay, we can look for his website. Maybe he has his contacts there.”

His voice trailed off when he began typing on the search bar. It never fails to amaze you how fast this thing can give you answers. It’s like all of the books in the library were compiled into this gadget. Peter input the name and a list of information about Donald S. Burton showed up. There were even images of the man. You cannot help but smile when the old guy reminds you of someone familiar.

“Here is his email!“

“I like these. What are these again?”

Steve smiled at your curiosity, “Chicken nuggets.”

“Okay. Chicken nuggets,” you repeated. “I wished we had these in our time. I love these and these sauces. And of course, this sundae!” you exclaimed before taking a scoop with the tiny spoon.

Just a couple of days after you talked with Bruce in the lab and sent an e-mail with Peter’s help, you found yourself having a picnic with Steve just around the city. It was a quiet park in the busy city. It was a Tuesday so there were fewer people in the place. He invited you with it after he got home from his mission.

“Should I bake or make something?” you asked him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. We’ll be ordering food on the way to the park,” he replied.

“Are the others coming too?” you asked again.

He shook his head, “I… didn’t ask them.”

“Why didn’t you ask them?” you raised an eyebrow.

Steve seemed to be caught off guard. Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and Peter, who were also in the living room when you asked, smirked and looked at each other knowingly when they saw their leader’s frozen reaction. He stood there awkwardly with his hands on his hips. Natasha was the first to break the silence.

“I’ll be training,” she said.

The others caught on to it and spew their reasons too. Peter chimed in, “I have a ton of homework to do, Doc.”

“I’m visiting my sister in Louisiana,” Sam explained with a scoff. That made you squint your eyes at him. Then you looked at Bucky, waiting for his reason. He seemed frozen like the gears in his head is turning.

“I… uhm… I’m…”

“He’ll help me with training.” Nat saved him. “We’ll do some planning with the next mission.”

So that’s how you and Steve ended up alone on this picnic, which you don’t mind. You had a fun ride going here. He lets you play songs by connecting your rarely-used phone to the car’s stereo.

“How did you learn about that song?” he asked when American Pie played.

You smiled, “Natasha. I heard it from her.”

You ordered food from a fast food chain through a drive-thru. It was exciting as Steve ordered meals you didn’t try before. When you arrived at the peaceful park, you insist on helping him with bringing stuff. He just made you bring the blanket while he carries all the other things. When you found a perfect spot, you laid the gingham blanket on the green grass. You sat comfortably in your casual floral dress before you two began eating.

“Thank you for this, Steve.” you smiled.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for coming with me. I haven’t been on a picnic with someone for a while.” he said.

“You know, before I got in the time machine, I went picnic with my neighbors.” you shared, remembering that day with the Smiths.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones?!” he asked with surprise.

Your ears perked when you heard that. The Jones were your neighbors before the Smiths. They are the last ones Steve knew since he and Bucky would sometimes fetch you if you were hanging out somewhere. The said couple was a bit grumpy, to be honest. They can hear even the smallest noise you would make in your apartment and would always let you know they don’t like it.

“Oh, no. They moved out months after you disappeared. Another family occupied their space. Susan and Robert Smith. They have this little kid named Donny. They are much nicer.” you joked.

“Well, that’s nice. I missed a lot of things while on ice.”

“It was only two years, Steve. Nothing much happened.” you snorted, finishing your sundae.

“A lot of things can happen. I know Howard found the Tesseract while searching for me on the ice… Share some things that happened in those two years.”

“Okay…” you exhaled. “I bet you already know that they tried making a series after Captain America vanished. You became an icon. Have you seen it?”

You laughed when you saw Steve hissed, “I didn’t like it.”

“Yeah, it was bad.” you cracked up. You only watched that once. You don’t like how they painted Peggy into a character named Betty who was always a damsel in distress. Peggy had complained about it too.

“Anyway, we– Howard and I– tried for like a year to search for you. But he would usually be the one to go on sites and I would always try to come with him. He needs more convincing but it always works.”

Howard often says that going in the field can be dangerous and you would fight back over and over again. You were glad you did because you were with them when they found the Tesseract.

“What convincing did you do?”

“Well, I would say that I’m his assistant. My job is technically following him around. Then when he says no, I’ll say that I am his best friend. I still do have my last reason if he denies me of coming with him.” you said.

“And what is it?”

You paused and just stared at him. Chewing on your bottom lip, you hmmed. It was like you were thinking if you should tell him the last reason for Howard to let you go with him. Steve waits. He tried to be comfortable as he leaned back with his arms resting behind him. He hoped he doesn’t look much curious or nosy. After what felt like an eternity, you spoke.

“It’s… It’s that I am the last one you spoke to while you were on that plane.”

You looked away from him, avoiding his gaze. You tried to just look at the trees and people from the distance than just look at Steve. Your chest felt heavier when you remembered that time Steve fought that skull and had control of that plane. Steve didn’t say a word so you continued to explain more, just to get it off your chest.

“It would always work since he fully knows that I have guilt living in my system after the country lost you.” you chuckled bitterly. “I felt awfully bad that I cannot do anything to help you during that situation.”

When your voice shook uncontrollably in the last words of your sentence, Steve sat back up and you can see the sympathy in his blue eyes. He reached out for your resting hand, instantly caging it in his warm hands.

“Y/N… none of it was your fault. It was already a dead-end situation. I was the one who chose to crash it.” he tried to reassure you.

“I know, I know,” you mumbled, tears slipping from your eyes. “But I cannot stand losing another person in my life that time, Steve.”

Your tearful eyes met his concerned ones. “We just lost Barnes earlier that year. And I really just can’t lose you… I tried to think of something. Howard was in the same room while I was talking to you on the phone. We tried to make a plan but we don’t have any idea where the hell the plane was and it was moving really fast. It was really bad. I felt helpless. I thought I might have been able to do something to help you but we have no time. I hate that all I can do is talk to you on the phone, hoping that you won’t feel alone, while I prayed silently for some miracle to happen. And it was crazy because I don’t even remember the last time I prayed before that moment.”

By the time you finished talking, you were full-on sobbing. Your chest heaved and your cheeks were damp from your salty tears. Steve held your hand. His thumb drew circles on it as he lets you cry for more. And when he felt you calming down, he uttered:

“Staying in that call with me until the end was enough for me. I appreciate you for handling yourself very well and being calm with me that time. You are amazing. And you don’t know how relieved I am when I knew you were the one who answered the call. Thank you.” Steve said softly, offering a small smile as he looked directly into your eyes. “You already did much more you know for me that time.”

2/19/1945

Y/N arrived with puffy eyes today. I knew it before she even removed the black sunglasses she had on. I already told her the day before that she have the choice of not going to the laboratory today. But she still did. It was quiet the whole day in the lab. We both tried to act busy like nothing much happened. Due to the events of these past two weeks, I’ve been getting telephone calls from a lot of people. I chose to ignore them because I know it has something to do with Rogers’ disappearance and I’d been hearing they want to make the serum like Ernskine’s. I honestly think that it would be hard to “remake” Captain America ever again. She didn’t eat anything for the whole day even a cup of coffee. I insisted on walking her home, saying I have to borrow her old research about the future of computers. She said she’ll just bring it tomorrow but I said I need it urgently even though I really don’t. In fact, I have nothing to do with her research. I just had to make sure she’ll get home safe. I thought it was a good idea to just walk with her instead of asking Jarvis to drive us. But boy, I was wrong. The loss of the nation’s superhero is plastered all over the place. I tried distracting Y/N by telling her about the funny encounter I had with a girl months ago. I never told her about it before because I know she doesn’t like that I cannot commit to a single girl. But I have no more story to tell at the moment. It was a relief that she let out small laughs and smile at it. Although the smiles didn’t reach her eyes, I hope she felt better for a bit. She was about to say some advice or something when she suddenly froze. Her lips formed into a frown and I see tears forming in her eyes. I follow where her eyes lay and it was the newspapers. WE NEED A NEW CAPTAIN. The headline was printed in big, bold letters. Eye-catching. “They cannot just replace Steve like that.” It was a whisper from her. I hate that all I can do is sigh. Two minutes later, we reached her apartment. She handed me her research and thanked me. She smiled. But it was forced, I know.

As I am writing this letter, I am thinking of leaving this city with Y/N for a vacation somewhere away from here. I don’t know if she will like that. Maybe she won’t. Maybe I’ll just settle on walking her home with another made-up reason from the back of my head. I don’t know. I just feel helpless seeing her like this again after Barnes’ and now, Rogers’ death. Even so, I’ll always make sure that she will be alright.

H.S.

Tony removed his eyeglasses as he finished reading. His index finger traces the handwritten words by his father, sighing in the process. He can hear his father’s voice with each word in it.

“Tony, we need to go. We should fly at six!” Pepper’s voice cuts off his thoughts.

He stretched his limbs before replying, “Okay, honey. Just getting my glasses.”

Tony stared at the page again for a second before closing his father’s journal. He slid it onto one of the drawers on his nightstand and left.

THE SEND-OFF TAGLIST

@supraveng @sunflower-golden-vol6 @curi0usc4t @caitlyn-who @bitchy-bi-trash @stilltoomuchafangirl @matisse556 @ladybug05 @sunwoahkim @meanttobea @j69confessional2 @thenyxsky @swthxrry @justab-eautifulmess @7minutes-tomidnight @curlycarley @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @wisepenguin @shatfairy @coffeeshub @stillthatbetch @cosmicgirls-things @mediocre-m @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @mrsjaderogers @themerc-with-a-mouth @slutdreams @royalwritersoftheuniverses @yunloyal @avengersinitiative2012 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @madnessinwrighting @lilizia @saintmagx @saranghaey @elmphoenix17 @animegirlgeeky @t-stark35 @ameliabs-world @seijaelee @sully-stick-together @capswife @katdahlali @avengersgirllorianna

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 8 months ago

Text

Nameless, Faceless: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Summary: Not even four hours after the case in Canada, you're thrown into another one. This time, without Hotch. You have a sinking feeling he's not just blowing you off to get some sleep. There's something wrong.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: welcome to the first episode of season 5! i hope you enjoy this series just as much as i loved writing it! <3

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

You arrive at his apartment building in ten minutes and immediately head to the floor his apartment is on. The second you step foot onto the floor, you know something is wrong. The feeling in your stomach hasn't gone away, it gets stronger. You knock on his door but he doesn't come to it.

"Hotch? It's me, Y/N. Are you in there?" you ask and knock again.

You take out your phone and call him but when you hear his phone ring from inside, you know something is wrong. You take out your gun and try the door knob which is unlocked. You push open the door and get hit with a wave of familiar energy--George Foyet's. You walk in slowly and notice a few things off the bat. Hotch's keys and briefcase are still by the front door, his phone is on the kitchen table, and there is a large bloodstain on the floor behind the couch. Upon further examination, there is a gunshot in the wall, tables and chairs are turned over, and Hotch is nowhere to be found.

If Hotch is dead, you would have seen his spirit here. Though, he has been stabbed multiple times by George Foyet. How he got in, you're not sure but the entire attack is played over and over to see exactly what went down between the two men. If you're going to have hope in finding Hotch alive or dead, you need help from someone you know who can track him.

"Overtime shift. Penelope speaking," Pen says when you call her.

"Pen, it's Y/N. I need you to listen really carefully. Something's happened to Hotch."

"What do you mean, something?"

"He's been stabbed. There's blood on the floor but he's not dead. I would have felt him otherwise."

"Oh, my God," she gasps.

"I need you to send police and FBI techs here right away. Everyone available."

"Do we need an APB?"

"Only on Hotch. I saw his car outside."

"Someone took him?"

"Yes, I believe so. There's a lot of blood here and a gunshot in the wall. Just get people here."

"Okay, I'm sending an army."

"Pen, I'm gonna have to tell Spencer because he and Em are expecting me back but you can't tell the others. They cannot be distracted. I'm only telling you and Spencer."

"Okay. I'm calling everyone."

You hang up on her and immediately call Spencer.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Listen, don't tell Emily this but something bad happened to Hotch. He's been stabbed."

"What?"

"He's not here but there is a lot of blood here and I felt Foyet's energy here."

"Wait, what are you talking about?"

"Is that Y/N?" you hear Emily in the background.

"I can't come back but just tell Emily and Dr. Barton that I'm away on an emergency. Don't tell the others. They can't be distracted right now."

"What's going on? Is this about Jeffrey?" Dr. Barton asks.

"No, it's unrelated."

"We only have a few hours left here."

"I'm really sorry, I have to take this phone call, okay?"

"What could be more important than my son right now?"

"I assure you, this will take one second. Please, I promise." Dr. Barton walks away and joins Emily's side to go over the files that Penelope has sent over. "What happened?"

"There's a gunshot hole in the wall. I'm guessing it's a .44 but there isn't any blood or tissue spray around it. Hotch wasn't shot."

"Any idea how he got out?"

"Foyet carried him. Hotch was stabbed but there aren't any blood drops anywhere. His body might have been wrapped in something.

"Is he...?"

"Dead? No. I would have felt him."

"Are bureau techs on the way?"

"Yeah, Penelope called everyone. She's the only one who knows."

"Alright, write down everything you see. We'll profile from your notes when you get back."

"How's Dr. Barton?"

"It's a huge list of cases to go through with him."

"Okay, I've got this here. You have Emily with you. Just stay focused."

"Alright, you too."

"What's wrong?" Emily asks when Spencer hangs up with you.

"Nothing. Y/N's been called away on an emergency not related to the case, but it's fine."

That answer seems to satisfy Emily but not Dr. Barton.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm confident that the three of us can do this together. We know he's been killing Hispanic males as surrogates. Did you separate the case files?"

"Yeah."

"How many of the surgeries fit the criteria?"

"Eight-two."

"Let me ask you this. On how many of those dates did you operate on somebody else as well?" Emily wonders.

"Seventy-five."

"Did any of those patients die on the table?"

"Eleven."

"That's where we start. This whole thing is about choice. He's forcing you to play God with your son because the last time you had a choice, your decision devastated him."

"I'm a doctor. I save people."

"It doesn't matter to him," Emily says. "All that matters to him is that you had an alternative and you didn't take it. Now, how many of those surgeries involve patients under twenty?"

"Six. I get a lot of gunshot wounds, mostly gang-related."

"Has a gang or family member ever threatened you?"

"No. At first, when you lose someone it's mostly confusion and devastation. The anger comes later."

Emily and Spencer go through the case files that fit the criteria and come up with six dates that could have been the trigger for the unsub.

"Alright, we have six dates where you operated on a Hispanic male on the same night a patient under twenty died. What we're gonna do is read the names and dates off to you, and you tell me anything you can remember, okay?"

"Okay," Dr. Barton sighs.

"Let's start with January 22nd. I have Tyler Hayes with multiple gunshot wounds. The next day, Brian Douglas was a hit-and-run victim with a lacerated aorta."

"No, not that one."

"March 15th, Devon Marks who was a heroin overdose, and Angela Harris who is another car accident victim in a single vehicle, bleeding into her brain."

"No, this is no use. I would remember if I was threatened."

"Did any of them ask you about your family?" Dr. Barton looks at the clock that is ticking down. "We have time."

"Okay," he sighs.

He tries not to think about his son and the danger he's in as he recalls the patients he's dealt with. The entire school day has gone by without a hitch but there are still a few hours before school ends. Derek, Rossi, and JJ have been very diligent in making sure Jeffrey and the other students are safe from the unsub.

"I talked to Detective Walker," JJ says, "The final bell is at 3:10. He's gonna have a SWAT unit in place at exactly 3:00 to escort kids out. We'll need you to gather the students at 2:45."

"This could all be happening now," the principal argues.

"If the unsub sees us evacuate early, we feel certain he'll kill another random citizen, and this also buys us a day to try and discover his identity. So, we'll have school buses for evacuation, and teachers can brief parents who are here to pick up their kids."

"The key is to keep Jeffrey isolated and avoid panic with the other students. If we can do that, everybody gets out of here safe," Rossi explains.

"Have you cross-checked all the records of employees in the building against Dr. Barton?"

"Garcia's on it."

Derek calls Penelope who answers eagerly.

"Y/N?"

"No. Sorry, baby girl, just little old me. You're out of luck."

"Right. Sorry."

"Did you finish the background check on everyone in the building?"

"Yeah. There's no red flags, no felonies, and no connection to Barton."

"That's god. Alright, I gotta go. There's about to be a bell."

"Alright. Be safe," she sighs.

"Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired."

"Yeah, I hear you. Let's just get this kid home safe and we can all sleep."

"Right."

As soon as Penelope hung up with Derek, she called multiple hospitals in Virginia in hopes Hotch was in one of them. No one has seen or heard of a man named Aaron Hotchner, though one of the hospitals did have someone named Derek Morgan show up recently. With this news, she immediately calls you.

The FBI techs and police did come quickly while you stayed off to the side and replay what happened over and over again. You're not sure how Foyet got into Hotch's apartment but he waited for him and threatened him with a gun only to shoot the wall. They both got into it and knocked some shit over only for Foyet to stab Hotch multiple times. Every time you replay the scene, it leads to more questions than answers.

How did he get in? Why didn't he kill Hotch? Why stab him and take him to a hospital? Your phone rings and you pick it up when you see it's Penelope calling.

"Hey, what's up?"

"I called hospitals to see if Hotch had gotten himself admitted to an emergency room. He's not listed as a patient but someone dropped a John Doe off at St. Sebastian Hospital, and that someone's name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan."

"Foyet took Derek's credentials."

"Why would he drop him off at the ER?"

"I don't know. I'm headed over there right now. I'll call with an update as soon as I get one."

You quickly send a text to Spencer to let him know what's going on so he doesn't freak out about the state of his boss.

Hotch is in St. Sebastian Hospital. I'm headed over there right now. I'll call when I have an update.

Spencer reads the message as soon as it comes in. He knows Hotch is in good hands if you're the one looking after him.

"Are you sure she's okay?" Emily asks when she notices his worried look.

"Yeah, she's fine. She's just giving me some updates."

"I don't understand. These surgeries are all hours apart. I didn't have to choose between patients. If he's punishing me for my choices, none of these fit," Dr. Barton groans in frustration.

"Alright, look at the note again and compare it against the wording on the charts. A lot of times an unsub will unconsciously mirror the wording of situations." Something suddenly comes to Dr. Barton which is evident in his facial features. "Do you remember something?"

"I don't know. It was right after New Year's. There was a car accident. One of the victims was Hispanic."

"New Year? I have it right here," Emily says. "On January 3rd, there was a two-car collision. You operated on someone named Hector Ledezma. That was your only surgery that night."

"I remember that case. Someone else came in, but I didn't operate on him. His name was Jason Meyers."

Spencer calls Penelope to gather more information on Jason.

"Garcia, I need you to find a patient in the system named Jason Meyers."

"He was admitted on January 3rd on life support. Oh, no. He was taken off the ventilator and declared legally dead three days ago."

"Who is his father?"

"Patrick Meyers, age forty-five."

"Get a photo into the school immediately. I think he's our unsub."

"Okay, it's on its way."

Spencer texts you an update on the current case since you're doing everything you can to take care of Hotch, which you appreciate. You can't do anything about Dr. Barton and his son, but you can find Hotch and figure out what's going to happen to him. As soon as you checked into the hospital, one of the doctors met with you and took you to the room Hotch was in. The second you see him, tears form in your eyes.

"He was stabbed nine times, but no major arteries were hit. It's a miracle he's alive."

"When will he wake up?"

"The anesthesia should wear off within the hour, but he's bound to be out of it."

"May I stay here?"

"Of course."

"Thank you."

The doctor checks a few things before giving you some privacy. You pull up a chair next to his bed and stare at his unconscious body.

"You better not die," you say to him. "This entire BAU is my family and that includes you. Do you hear me, Aaron? Don't die."

You hate lying to your team and hope they're doing okay without you. Hotch's medical chart is hanging off the edge of his bed. Your curiosity makes you read over it as if you're going to understand what most of it means. You're very smart but you're not medically smart. However, the initial L.C. in the top right-hand corner grabs your attention. It's the same initial the unsub left on the note for Dr. Barton. You grab the chart and find the doctor at the nurse's station.

"Excuse me, what does L.C. stand for?"

"Living Children."

"Thank you." You walk back into Hotch's room and call Spencer. "I know what L.C. stands for. Living Children."

"Are you sure?"

"Hotch has it on his medical chart. It's administrative. It's when they're afraid a patient's gonna go on life support and they don't have a DNR order."

"What if the unsub was trying to tell Dr. Barton that he is actually the target and that he's gonna leave his son without a father?" The sound of a door opening catches Spencer's attention. "Barton!"

"What's going on?" There is commotion coming from his end and you hear something that chills you to the bone. A gunshot. "Spencer?" No answer. "Spencer, answer me. Please." Still, no answer and you get tears. "Spencer? I can't lose two people I love. Please answer me." Instead of trying to get him to answer, you hang up and call 911 to report the gunshot. "This is Special Agent Y/N from the FBI. I need police and an ambulance to 120 Kensington Road, Mclean, Virginia. Shots were fired and a federal agent is possibly down."

Spencer lays in front of Dr. Barton with a gunshot wound in his knee from the unsub. The unsub was targeting Dr. Barton but got Spencer instead.

"Are you hit?"

"No."

"Get my gun. Get my gun!" Spencer urges.

Dr. Barton scrambles for the gun before the unsub can fire off another shot. Spencer grabs his gun and points it at the unsub.

"Get away from him!"

"Whatever you do, stay down," Spencer says to Dr. Barton before facing the unsub. "Drop the gun!"

"Don't protect him. He killed my son!" Patrick says emotionally.

"He did not kill your son. Your son was killed in a car accident."

"Stand up!" he yells at your boyfriend.

"I'm gonna ask you again, please drop the gun. I do not want to shoot you."

"Stand up, you coward!"

"Mr. Meyers, listen to me. Dr. Barton did not kill your son. Your son was killed by a car, and this is not what he would want. Okay? So, drop the gun. Please."

His words seem to get through to Patrick because he lowers the gun. Tears are streaming out of his eyes, he looks like he's in so much pain, and he doesn't know who or what to trust. Sirens can be heard from down the street no doubt from the call you made to 911. The unsub raises his gun toward Spencer and Dr. Barton.

"Don't do it."

"I'm sorry."

Before Patrick can fire, Spencer shoots him in a spot that's not fatal. Dr. Barton turns to Spencer to help him but the young doctor waves him off.

"I'm fine. Go to him. Kick his gun away. Make sure his gun is not near him."

Dr. Barton kicks the gun away before assessing the wound on Patrick.

"No, don't touch me. Oh, I want to die. Oh, don't touch me," Patrick weeps.

"I need to stop the bleeding."

"Let me die."

"The medics are almost here. Can you keep him stabilized?" Spencer asks.

"Yes, I think so." Seconds later, the ambulance and police arrive. "Hold on, they're right here. Help is coming, alright?" They get out of their car and rush over with equipment. "We need a backboard and a C-collar. Put pressure on this right here. Call ahead to the ER and tell them they got a GSW to the thoracic cavity, and have him redlined to the OR stat."

"You got it."

"Don't touch me," Patrick cries.

Dr. Barton approaches Spencer and inspects the wound on his knee.

"It looks like it went clean through."

"You might have just saved his life."

"Keep pressure on this, okay?"

The team arrives with Jeffrey, and Spencer nods to the doctor's son.

"I'm good, I'm fine. Go to your son."

Jeffrey and his son embrace in a tight hug while the team joins Spencer's side with worry on their faces.

"Are you okay?" JJ asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"We'll get you to a hospital."

"No, you need to call Y/N. She's at the hospital with Hotch. He's been stabbed by Foyet."

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #criminal minds season 5

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silverflqmes · 10 months ago

Note

ignore that im on my selfship account it’s luma lmao

some selfship questions for u and tooru <3

•does tooru get you flowers? if so, what kind?

ldoes tooru like to read books with you? or does he secretly collect all your favs and binge read them?

•what shows do you watch together?

•have you guys had any thoughts on marriage? (sorry if this makes you uncomfy i’ll note it for the future)

•do you guys match icons on like tumblr or insta?

•what couple do you resonate you and tooru with? like for example me and scara kinda resemble harley quinn and the joker (minus the toxicity)

•what video games do you guys play together? if you play genshin together, who does he main / what team does he use and do you do cute genshin couple things?

hi luma! no worries, i figured it was you😭 woohoo selfship questions, i’ll do my best to answer those<33

— tooru is the flower giving type!! i think he’s the kind of person to read into flower language and symbolism cuz like, it’s tooru.. he never does anything haphazardly and always wants to provide the best, so he definitely looks into their meanings before choosing accordingly depending on the occasion or mood<3 red roses are a common ( given their symbolism for love and passion ), forget me nots are also some he frequently sends ( often as a reassurance to me, along with himself ), daisies ( he remembers how i used to really like them as a kid, and brings them as a reminder of those times ) and a combo between lily of the valley and larkspur ( they’re the flowers of our birth months<3 )

— i think he would show interest in what i read and i would beg him on my hands and knees to read my favs, specifically the folk of air series, to scream with him!! bonus if he decided to annotate and swap copies with me so we could read each other’s comments<3 furthermore, he serenades me to sleep by reading on stressy nights :’) and just cuz his voice is so<3

— definitely star wars oriented shows.. the clone wars has consumed us wholly and we have not recovered from the siege of mandalore.. sitcoms FOR SURE, i love friends a completely normal amount, seinfeld too, modern family, big bang theory, king of queens, etc. anyway, other than that we’d probably watch a lottt of slice of life / romance anime since it’s super comforting and silly<333 although some shonen anime make certain exceptions ( owari no seraph my love ) OH AND CARTOONS BC OLD SPONGEBOB HUMOR >>>

— TOORU IS DEFINITELY A MARRIAGE KIND OF GUY and like same i want marriage too but later down the line cuz i wanna enjoy the youth and sillying around of dating.. but i think we would unironically refer to each other as husband n wife.. and act like a married couple.. proposing is gonna be a challenge because he wants to do it but i ALSO want to do it like babes let me get on my knee pls and propose to you like the king you are smh

— i don’t think tooru would be on tumblr, maybe he would be if he indulges in my nonsense.. so probably instagram!

— we are anakin and padmé for sure and take turns, although misaki and usui are definitely us too, as well as kuronuma and kazehaya ( THEY MAKE ME SO EMO AND NOT NORMAL )

— we play a lot of wii and ds games together pre timeskip, specifically super mario bros, mario kart, mario party, wii sports, just dance — all that jazz, and i would have begged him to indulge me in my tekken addiction despite the amount of times he would get his ass handed to him BAHAHAHAHA ( he’s petty bc i use asuka since she counters attacks ) now post timeskip, we would definitely play ssbu because it’s just sm fun ( a-and um um sephiroth…. ) — now i would get my ass handed here instead.. and of course we cannot forget the hit game GENSHIN IMPACT!!! bro mains either tartaglia, ayato or alhaitham because i am not normal about them and he makes it a goal to tease me using them.. think he probably uses vaporize a lot to stick to my synergy or spread; as for couple things, we definitely take each other to pretty locations we found or help one another with grinding / quests. if there are also co-op games, those too!! for the rest, we’d probably take turns on ffvii since it’s single player and i have a tendency to throw a controller at someone when things get too heated.. prepare yourself tooru!! especially if sephi is the final boss..

#luma🫶#— ; 🏹 ) toorellie.#whoops i wrote too much..#I CANT DO ANYTHING WITHOUT BEING DESCRIPTIVE #ahem anyways thank you for the questions luma<3 i will send some soon LMAO

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bbrissonn · 2 years ago

Text

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄 - 𝐍𝐞𝐲𝐦𝐚𝐫 𝐉𝐫.

disclaimer: not proofread

warnings: swear words, both neymar and the reader are bitches in this...

wc: 4.2k (including lyrics)

pairing: neymar jr x model!reader

bold italic = lyrics

series masterlist

You got blood on your hands

How you do plead?

Boy, it’s like treason, how you treated me

It’s eight mondays in a row, nine days of the week

These tantrums been old

All bitter, no sweet

You’re killing my vibe

In ways words cannot describe

But I’ll try, I’ll try

You let out a sigh as you checked your phone for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. Your boyfriend, Neymar, was supposed to be meeting you in front of a fancy restaurant he had found, only it had now been almost an hour that you’ve been waiting and you hadn’t heard a single word from him. No text, no call, nothing.

Trying to distract yourself, you opened instagram and clicked on Kylian’s story, only for your heart to drop when it showed you a picture of him along with his teammate out at a party, Neymar’s smile looking right at you. Your hand clenched your phone as you quickly made your way back to your car, slamming your door behind yourself. This was now the fourth time your boyfriend had stood you up in the last month, but this time was even worse. He had stood you up on your three year anniversary.

As you left the parking lot, you made a decisions, you weren’t going home. Well, at least not at Neymar’s home where you had been staying for the past couple of months, instead you were going to spend the night at your apartment, far away from him. When you opened the door to your home, a weird feeling took over your body, you hadn’t came here since he had helped you move out most of your things.

You ignored the feeling inside of you, instead walking over to your bedroom and changing out of the dress you had put on, one he had bought specifically for this night. As you started taking off your makeup, your mind started to wonder why Neymar hadn’t texted you yet. Normally, when he stood you up, he’d at least send you some kind of signal to let you know he was still alive, but this time it was radio silent.

A frustrated groan left your mouth as your call went straight to his voicemail, something that had never happened to you before. Was he doing this on purpose? Or was his phone just simply dead? But then again, you don’t even remember the last time his phone had died, always carrying a portable charger around with him. So, he was ignoring, right? Your hands pulled at your hair as the thoughts of what he could be doing at the moment flooded your mind.

It was almost midnight now, you were laying down on your couch, watching some series you had found earlier in the night, when a loud knock came from your front door, making you jump a bit. The smile at was on plastered on your face quickly dropped as you looked throught your peehole, only to see the man of the night on the other side of your door.

“What do you want?” You asked, anger in your voice as you opened your door slightly, making Neymar’s brow furr even more than they already were.

“Meu amor, what are you doing here? And why haven’t you been answering my texts and my calls? I’ve been so worried about you!” He said, his tone soft and calm, the complete opposite of the look on his face. You roll your eyes at his words, making him even more confused about what was going on.

“Now you’re worried? What about when I was standing in the cold for a full hour waiting for you, only to find out from Kyks’ insta story that you were at some party? Huh, were you worried about me?” You sassed, making his face fall. He had completely forgotten the two of you had a date, when his practice had ended, he only one thing on his mind, going home and cuddling with you for the rest of the day. But Kylian had convinced him to come hang out with him and a couple of the guys, and he later found himself being dragged to a party.

“Bebe, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot–”

“Of course you did, you always forget!” You cut him off as you walked away from the door, leaving it open as a sign for him to follow you. Once you heard the door closed, you turned around to look at him and you let it all out.

“It’s the fourth time you’ve stood me up, Neymar! You always forget, always! But that’s not even the worse part. You don’t know what today is, do you?” You asked, your tone harsh and sharp, making him look down at his feet. You took his silence as a “no” to your question, making you let out a laugh as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Of course you don’t, why would you remember our one year anniversary when you can’t even remember a simple date night.” Your words making him look up at you with a guilty look on his face, biting his lip before opening his mouth, only you cut him off before he even had to chance to let out a single sound.

“I’m so sick and tired of this, Neymar! You’re always coming home late and drunk out of your mind, we never spend time together anymore and when we schedule time for us, you don’t show up, not even bothering to let me know you’re still alive or that you wouldn’t show up. Do you know how embarrassing it was for me to sit in those restaurant telling the waiters that I was waiting for someone for over an hour every time, only for you to never show up? All the looks of pity I got? You wanna know the worse part of that, one time there was a group of teen girls that recognized me, they were sitting right next to my table, and they probably figure out I was waiting for you, and you wanna know what they said to me when I was leaving? They said you were probably fucking some model. Everyday I wake up and all I see when I open an app is cheating rumors, people saying we’ve broken up, pictures of you with your arms around million of girls. And I am just supposed to be okay with that?” You yelled out, your voice breaking at the down as you tried to hold back your tears.

Neymar tried to take a step towards you, his hand reaching for you, but you quickly took a step back, shaking your head as you looked at him dead in the eyes. His whole mood changed as he realized just how much he had hurt you, but it was too late now.

“We’re done.” You whispered before walking away from him and locking yourself in your bedroom, your back hitting the door as you slowly let yourself fall to the floor, tears falling from your eyes. You heard footsteps coming closer and closer to the door until he was standing right on the other side of it.

“I’ll come drop off your things tomorrow.” He said, his voice showing no emotion, no regret, nothing. A sob left your mouth as you realized he didn’t even care that the two of you weren’t together anymore, not even bothering to apologize for all the pain he had caused you.

You put the “over” in lover, put the “ex” in next

Ain’t no “I” in trouble, you the “U” since we met

‘Cause you’re toxic, boy

I ain’t even gotta try to find the

G-O-O-D in goodbye

You had been awake for not even 5 minutes before you shoot up in your bed, your mouth hanging low at what you had just seen. This man had the audacity to go to another party after he left your home, bringing a girl home with him and making no effort to hide it from the papparazzis. The headline of all the articles being rumors of Neymar cheating on you, asking if the two of you had broken up or not. But what completely broke you was a video that was taken while Neymar was guiding the girl back to his car.

“Neymar! Neymar are you and Y/N still together?” The man behind the camera asked, making the football chuckle a bit with a small on his face.

“No.” He answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and you felt your world coming down on you. The way he just didn’t care that the two of you were done, going as far as going back to his old habits the minute he left your home a single man, completely breaking you.

You waisted no time getting out of bed and taking a box out, throwing all of his things in it. All his shirts, pants, hoodies, everything he had left over here or that you’d stolen from him, all making their way into the box. As you cleared the top of your dresser, your eyes landed on the letter he had written for you barely a month ago to celebrate your 3 years together.

You knew it was a petty thing to do, but you didn’t care, and he obviously didn’t care about how you felt, so was it really that bad? You preferred not to think about it to much as you opened your sharpie and wrote in big ‘FUCK YOU’ over and over again so it filled up the whole letter. You smiled at your work before placing it on the top of box, making sure it’d be the first thing he saw when he opened, along with the promise ring you dented using a knife in the your kitchen.

A misviouse smile was plastered on your face as you knocked on his front door, you knew he was home from training, since his car was in the driveway and he barely even went out after practice.

“Hi!” You say way too happily as he opens the door, pushing your way inside.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, his brows furred as he followed behind you over to the kitchen, where you dropped the box on the counter.

“Dropping off your things.” You said with a smile on your face as you looked him straight in the eyes, holding back the want of hitting him and yelling at him.

“Oh, uh, thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“Oh it’s not a problem, really. I even left you a little gift, something to remember me by.” You said, and something about the way you spoke scared him. Barely twelve hours ago you were crying because of him, and now here you stood in his kitchen, a giant smile on your face as you talked about giving him a gift. He looked at you weirdly for a couple of seconds before opening the box, his jaw dropping as his eyes fell in the ring.

“What the fuck, Y/N!” He exclaimed as his fingers grabbed the ring, pulling it out of the box as he examined it carely, his eyes growing wide as he realized just how bad the dent was.

“Looks nice doesn’t it?”

“Why the fuck would you do this? Do you know how much this costed me?” He yelled angrily, only making your smile grow bigger, scaring him even more.

“I thought I would do to the ring, something you called a ‘symbole of our love’, what you did to my heart.” You sassed, making his face fall. There it was, you weren’t here because you had moved on or anything, no you were here to take your revenge.

“Keep looking, there’s plenty more for you discover. Now, if you don’t mind, I am gonna go pack my things.” You answered with a smile on your face, not waiting for his answer before making your way to his bedroom, your suitcase following behind you. Neymar stood in place for a couple of seconds, his eyes staring at the spot where you once stood, he shook his head a bit before going back to the box.

As for you, you slowly packed all your things, ‘accidently’ breaking a thing or two you had bought for him before making your way over to his bathroom. At first, you thought about emptying all his shower product, but he could just buy more, so instead, you decided to put red dye inside all of them, leaving a nice surprise for the next time he’d take his shower.

You hummed a melody as you made your way back downstairs, an angry Neymar waiting for you in the kitchen, making your smile grow even wider. This was pettiest you had ever been, but you didn’t care. He hurt you, and you knew the only way you could ever hurt him that bad would be to take away his family, but you had your limits. So this was the best you could do, and you absolutely loved it.

“Okay, what the actual fuck is wrong with you!” He yelled out as you walked in, all of his clothe laying on the kitchen island with holes in them, gratitude of your scissors. Now he didn’t care about it that much, what he was the most angry about was all his brazil gear teared up, he knew you knew how much he cared about them and planned to keep them intact for the rest of his life, which he know wouldn’t be able to do. But what really angered him the most was his ‘100% JESUS’ headband cut in half, right in between the lettering.

“Oh yeah, the ring wasn’t enough, so I thought they should feel it too, you know.” You explained, a smirk on your face as his hands grabbed the headband his eyes looking at so sadly before looking up at you.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t know, Neymar. Why do you think I am doing this?” You answered with sass, making him scoff, his eyes still looking at your smiling face. You didn’t leave him to answer, walking straight past him and out of the house. Leaving out a sigh as you fell behind the wheel of your car, your eyes closing, holding back your tears.

You put the “over” in lover, put the “ex” in next

Ain’t no “I” in trouble, you the “U” since we met

‘Cause you’re toxic, boy

I ain’t even gotta try to find the

G-O-O-D in goodbye

“So, Y/N, you and your ex, Neymar, broke up a little over a month ago and you haven’t spoken out about it yet. Is this the day where we finally get something out of you?” The interview asked with a hopeful smile on his face, making you laugh a bit. You had done quite a lot of interview with him, and you knew that he’d never push you to answer his question, but you finally felt ready to talk about it.

“Just because it’s you!” You answered, making the two of you laugh. After you had gotten back from Neymar’s house, you were quick to delete him off your social media’s and unfollowing, something both of your fans were quick to catch and post about. You still talked to Davi a lot whenever he was at home with his mom, but never when he was in Paris, something he surprisingly understood.

“Did it have anything to do about all the article of him and the girl?”

“No, not all. We broke couple of hours before it happened, he made the decision to do that and that’s on him. He messed up, in a lot of ways, I don’t feel one bit sorry for him about the whole situation that happened about that night. He knew what he was doing, he took those decisions, and that’s on him.” You said, holding back a smile at memories of your little morning at his house. That same night, you had received a lot of angry texts from Neymar asking if you had done anything to his products, and asking why his hair and body were now dyed red. You didn’t bother to answer him, leaving him on read was enough of an answer for him.

“I just wanna say, I think the whole world was quite surprised when the whole situation happened, I mean, you guys looked happy and perfect together.”

“Yeah, I like to think we were at the beginning, but things had definitely not been perfect and happy for the last couple of months. I feel like the end of our relationship was actually quite toxic from someone’s side, but oh well. What’s done is done, it’s in the past now.” You said, proud of yourself for actually moving on this quickly. You didn’t feel any kind of hatred or anger towards the footballer anymore, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to see him again without having the need to yell at him.

“And how have you been holding up?”

“Surpringsly better than I thought I would. I’ve been surrounding myself with people who really appreciate me and love me, so I’ve been good.” You said, making Neymar bit his lip as the words filled his ears. He was currently in the PSG dinning area, his headphones in as your newest interview played on his phone. Ever since that morning, all he could think about was you. He missed a whole lot more than he thought he would, making him regret the way he had treated you for the last couple of months. All you had ever done was be there for him for everything, and he thanked you by treating you like shit. But it was too late now, what’s done is done, it’s in the past now.

I would take a bullet for you just to prove my love

Only to find out you are the one holding the gun

I’m just tryna get focus

Take some times for me

People started noticing all the shit you couldn’t see

You let out a grunt as you walked into a hard chest, making you fall bawkards before two arms caught you, making you look up at the person, only for your jaw to clench as your eyes met you Neymar’s. You harshly pulled yourself out of his hold, making gulp before speaking, but you beat him to it.

“Look where you’re going, will you?” You said harshly over the loud music of the party, before walking past him, your shoulder bumping into his a bit. Only, he quickly grabbed your wrist, turning you around to face him.

“Can we talk, please?” He asked softly, making you roll your eyes.

“No.” You answered simply before walking from him once again, only this time he didn’t grab onto you, instead letting you walk to your friends. He should’ve known you were going to be here, after all this party was thrown by your agency, it’d be even more weird if you weren’t there. Neymar let out a sigh and made his way back to his friends, his eyes still looking over at you every once and a while, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his friends and by yourself.

Later that evening, you found yourself leaning against the railing of one of the balcony of the venue, your breath slow and peaceful as your eyes looked over at the city below you, all the lights, cars driving by and all the honking giving some sort of comfort. Only that was ruined when the person you least wanted to see joined you, making you roll your eyes a bit.

“Pretty, huh?” He spoked softly with a small smile on his face as he looked over at you, but you didn’t react. You stayed in the same position you were in before, eyes staring at the city.

“I am gonna be honest, I was a little confused when I started rinsing my hair and the water was red, thought I was bleeding or something. Then I checked the bottle, good thing I checked my body wash too, huh? Didn’t know you had that in you.” He smirked once he saw a little smile grown on your face, your eyes still staring ahead, but he considered it a small victory.

“You deserved it. I could’ve done worse, you know.” You stated coldly, making the small joy from his tiny victory disappear quickly. He left out a sigh, leaning his elbows on the railing as well.

“I did. If it would’ve been anyone else I would’ve been angry, but you did it and you’re right about me deserving it.” He spoke softly, his eyes now also looking at the brightly lit city in front of you.

“Glad to know you realized it two fucking months too late, Neymar.” You said harshly, making him cringe at the way his name rolled off your tongue. The way it used to be so soft and comforting, now cold and strict.

“Y/N, I am so, so fucking sorry, okay? I was shitty towards you and I didn’t realize it, and when you brought it up to me, I was an asshole about it all the time, and I am so sorry for hurting you, meu amor.” He whispered, and unlike that night when the two of you broke up, there was some emotion behind the words he spoke, making you close your eyes so no tears would fall from them because of the memory.

“And I understand if you hate me and you never want to see me again after this, because you have every right to feel that way after what I did to you, but I want you to know that if I could, I would take it all back, I really would, Y/N. You’re the most amazing thing that happened to me and I was an idiot and I ruined it, and that’s all on me, it’s my fault. And I am sorry because you didn’t deserve that, at all, and it wasn’t fair for you.” He continued, tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he realized just how much he had fucked up. Now, he already knew, but saying it out loud made it sound so much more real and it made the whole situation really sink into his head.

“I don’t hate you, Ney. I could never hate you, I wish I could, but I can’t because I love you too much to ever feel that way towards you. But you hurt me, over and over again and every time I brought it up to you, you just shrugged me off like it was nothing, like how I felt wasn’t important. So, I don’t hate you, I hate the way you treat me, I hate the way even though I want to I’ll never be able to hate you, Neymar.” You said, your voice shaky as you tried your hardest not to cry. The footballer sniffed and took a deep breath before speaking once again.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, reaching his out for your shoulder, but you quickly stepped away from him, making his heart drop.

“So am I.” You said, finally letting a tear fall before walking away from him, making your way straight to your car and home, leaving a crying Neymar all alone on the balcony, tears slowly falling from his eyes as he realized your relationship was now officially over, the chances of the two of you ever talking again being as slim as the chances of the two of you dating again.

G-O-O-D in goodbye

“Y/N! Y/N, over here!” A paparazzi yelled as you walked out a fashion show, you tried your best to follow your agent as closely as possible, but all the lights and flashes made it impossible for you to see where you were going.

“Y/N, are you and Neymar ever going to get back together?” Another yelled, making you looked at him, your face softened a bit at the sound of his name filling your eyes before you answered the question.

“No.”

“Y/N, what do you think about Neymar’s new girlfriend?” One called out, making you roll your eyes at his question. You weren’t stupid, you had seen all the news and posts about him and his new girlfriend, you heart clenching as you looked at all the pictures. She was the opposite of you, blond hair, blue eyes, now she was pretty, but you knew you were in a way higher league than her, all your contracts and magazine covers made that obvious. His sister had even texted you about her, whining about how rude and mean his new girlfriend was, even towards Neymar himself. How bad of a girlfriend she was towards him, the way he always complained about her going out to parties with guys.

“Karma’s a bitch.” You answered with a smirk, now you didn’t care if no one else understood, you knew Neymar would, and that’s all that mattered to you.

#gab writes #neymar #neymar imagines #neymar imagine #neymar x reader #neymar fanfic #neymar fic #neymar jr #neymar jr imagine #neymar jr x reader #neymar jr fanfic

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coolingrosa · 2 months ago

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HI!! I don’t normally send in asks or anything of the sort but I just really wanted to say that I absolutely adore your work, I’ve been following Roseverse since like a year or so before the first chapter released and it’s been so wonderful seeing the series come to fruition. I love everything about Roseverse, from the writing to the characters (Although Dream is definitely my favorite overall!) and their designs, it is all done so well and holds a special place in my heart.

Roseverse has been one of my biggest inspirations when it’s come to working on my own take on the undertale multiverse (and hopefully eventually begin posting about it aswell) and I don’t think I would’ve had the courage to begin working on it had I not stumbled on Roseverse. It’s given me the confidence to be able to create and portray the things I want to in my own work and I cannot express the full extent of my appreciation for that in mere words alone.

So, overall, I wanted to send this in order to show my love and gratitude for you, your work, and all the others who have helped bring Roseverse to life. ^_^

I’m sorry if anything sounded silly or didn’t make too much sense by the way! I’m not really too good at wording things lol

ALSO AS A SIDE NOTE BEFORE I SIGN OFF: I LOVE YOUR DRINK ART! I LOVE DRINK!!! Your drink art provides me with so much sustenance …i love them sosososoo much

OK IN ORDER TO ENSURE THAT THIS IS NOT TOO LENGTHY.. TOODLES! I HOPE THAT YOU AND WHOEVER ELSE IS READING HAVE A LOVELY REST OF THE DAY NO MATTER WHAT TIME IT CURRENTLY IS FOR YOU!!!

THIS IS GENUINELY THE SWEETS4ST THING EVER 😭😭😭😭 I thank you greatly, anon, for sticking around so long to see RoseVerse flourish. The new elsewhere chaoter is giving me issues since I don’t have as much time to work on it, but coming along great and I’m so excited to keep writing this story for you all. Big things are coming to YouTube as well…stay tuned.

I’m so glad you love my drink content! I love them so much MY BABIESSSSSZ

#undertale #undertaleau #undertale multiverse #roseverse #cooling rosa answers silly stuff

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nottoofondofgaypeople · 1 year ago

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You should make a long post about Laurance

You are so lucky I got that Vylad ask before this... Ohhh boy

Full stop, this post is probably going to be one of the longest things I post on this Nether forsaken website. Laurance has been a comfort character since I first watched this series years ago in spite of all the bull shit Jesson put him through. I have many many many thoughts on him, and none of them will be organized.

I'm fairly confident that this post will get into some very unhinged territories, I cannot be normal about this man

I feel like this should go without saying, but all of the headcanons I have dumped onto Laurance on my main blog apply to this rewrite. Including this one which you have definitely all seen, and all Shadow Knight headcanons are also canon here.

But let's talk about this rewrite specifically. Because when Laurance comes back from the Nether, and he confesses his love, the mother fucker does it! He actually gets Irena to say she at least feels something towards him! It isn't much, but she doesn't get all awkward when he says that he loves her, and she's supremely gentle with him while helping him with his recovery. This really quickly turns into romance and the two are effectively dating shortly after.

Yeah Laurance's eyes aren't magically fucking cured to perfection, that's stupid an abelist.

Actually, because I want peak recovery arc material out of this rewrite Laurance is going to get to spend a lot of time learning how to fight with this new form. His body has been pretty significantly altered from the process of undeath and also the torture. I'm so for real when I say Laurance has so many scars, just so many of them, 18 million scars all over his everything. He already had some from being a stupid fucking child, but these ones are a lot uhm... bigger.

Laurance has to adjust to the new symptoms of his body. A lot of them are slow, appearing over time. The first major thing Laurance notices is that when he stops thinking of breathing for long enough, he just stops breathing. Shadow Knights don't need to breathe, so their body doesn't naturally do it. But Laurance never fully died, so he kind of does need to breathe?? And this is just where it starts.

I think the doll symptoms start kicking in a lot slower than I initially thought of. There's still the first time that it happens, but then it doesn't happen as often. Maybe once or twice, but the next time Laurance really deals with that is during the Season 1 finale (but it isn't Garroth that knocks him out (but that's a whole post unto itself)). Going into Season 2 though, it gets worse and worse. As the Shadow King has more influence over the Overworld, the calling gets stronger and stronger.

More often than not the calling manifests as a whisper in the back of Laurance's mind, something that sends a tingle down his spine and not in a good way. His blood runs hot, and he can feel his body pulled to Irena. Like his blood is tied to her life force and constantly trying to bring her to it. And any time he's around her, that voice gets louder, starts multiplying as he fights it, all of them demanding him to kill, to do it, to free himself of the burden, to gain eternal life.

Laurance doesn't want eternal life though!! He never has!! He wants to fall in love and start a family and grow old with his partners!!

Okay so going into Laurance's childhood a bit, I've said it before and I'll say it again, Laurance is the mcd equivalent of a theater kid and yet somehow fumbled in choosing his class and ended up as a fighter instead of a bard, the goof. He picked up the Lyre when he was a teenager, mostly because his father bought one and expressed an interest in teaching Laurance how to play, and he was all over that.

He stops playing it when he goes to the guard academy cause they just don't have instruments there (which is a crime), but he does still spend a lot of time remembering songs and finger placements, mans is doing whatever he can to make sure he doesn't fall out of practice. When Laurance comes back to Meteli as an official guard he celebrates by having a party in the town and finally getting to play his beloved lyre again.

He doesn't play it as much when he's a guard, but he always tries to stay in practice. And he won't let any blindness get in the way either, his muscle memory is so on point he barely needs his eyes unless he's reading sheet music, which is usually right in front of him.

I could seriously go into a whole character analysis of comparing Laurance to Orpheus, specifically from Hadestown, like I really want to, but I'll restrain myself to just the general myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. Laurance really thought he could walk into hell and defy the gods. He really thought he could just do that. And even when he was faced with punishment, when Orpheus was forced to stay in the Underworld in her place, he endured it all for her. And actually this is so funky the roles are kind of reversed. Because Irena is the one who can't turn around to look at Laurance when they're running out of hell. If she does, she will die. That is guaranteed. Eurydice has always acted in the assurance of her survival. Unlike Orpheus in the same position, she can manage to not turn her head.

Hhhhhhg Laarmau as Orpheus and Eurydice is literally everything to me you don't understand.

And yes Laurance being Orpheus coded is why I gave him a Lyre, I won't even deny that. Like, c'mon, Laurance very earnestly trying to earn Irena's affection and saying "I also play the lyre" and Irena snarking back "A liar and a player too? I've met too many men like you." I'm--

Stay focused!! This is not the Hadestown post!!

What if Laurance was like obscenely physically affectionate? Like he's so so so physical, he loves having a point of contact with someone at all times. It doesn't have to be anything big either. He just likes wrapping his arm around Garroth's shoulder, or having Irena play with his hair. It was something important before the Shadow Knight transformation, and he only needed it more as time went on. The feeling of his lovers heartbeat reminds him he's alive.

And other people touching him reminds Laurance he still has this body. In spite of all the Shadow Kings control, he has control of his own body in this moment and he is using that control to show love and care and that matters to him more than anything. He likes holding hands, putting his hands on people, having other people do the same, even the smallest amount of affection is enough for him to selfishly crave more.

Laury likes singing a lot. His voice got a little deeper after the Shadow Knight thing because his vocal chords got just a little shredded in the Nether, but he still loves singing and singing with his friends and lovers. Laurance singing some sappy love song to Garroth who is just completely smitten, or singing some silly little campfire song to boost Cadenza's mood when she's having a bad day.

THE TABLE BIT!! I simply adore the table bit!! All of it! And it's even better in my rewrite cause even if the dialogue and the scene plays out almost exactly the same, they're in love while doing this silly bit!! Such fucking dorks I want to throw them against concrete.

Thinking about Laurance and Ungrith. Laurance finding this wyvern in the forest while exploring one day and befriending it almost instantly because Laurance is just a very kind person. Even if Ungrith isn't allowed to be with his brethren, it's okay because this weird fuckin kid is really entertaining and a genuinely great friend. I know it isn't possible but a scene where Laurance, Garroth, and their wyvern childhood friends get to hang out and talk would probably fix all my problems.

Raven doesn't literally anyone but Garroth touch him, but when Irena tells him about Ungrith, he's willing to let Laurance pet his scales or whatever you do to show affection to a flying lizard. It's not the same, but it's better than nothing.

Laurance's favorite place to kiss other people is on the cheeks, but his favorite spot to be kissed is the forehead. I think that he doesn't admit this to people, rather lets them figure it out. Both Garroth and Irena figure out Laurance likes kissing their cheeks a lot, like he does it constantly, especially because Garroth has freckles and Laurance is determined to kiss every single one of them.

Garroth is the one who learns about Laurance's affinity for forehead kisses cause he's only like two inches taller than Laurance, but that difference matters a lot to both of them. And Garroth can tell very easily from the way Laurance always loves looking up at him with those big doe eyes. Once he tells Irena this, she starts asking Laurance to bend over or kneel in front of her so she can kiss his forehead very tenderly.

Because I made Garrancemau polycule real in my rewrite, Laurance's calling latched onto Irena, but man oh man, it tempts him with Garroth sometimes. He fights so hard to protect Irena partially because if she dies by someone else's hands, he knows it'll latch onto Garroth. And sometimes the calling urges him towards it anyway, considering it'll work. A calling is best answered by the death of a lord, but the death of another guard isn't always a bad thing.

Every time Laurance runs from his lovers to fight the calling he feels so cold without them. Like if he bothers to try sleeping while on his own it just feels so cold. So empty. It doesn't feel right to try to sleep without Irena in his arms and Garroth snuggled up behind him and a blanket over the three of them.

I think Laurance cries a lot. He doesn't really have hang ups about showing his emotional side until he's a shadow knight, and even after, he only tries to hide his anger. He never hides his anguish, his sadness, his absolute misery as a result of the nightmare he was forced to live through. Laurance's crying is so loud, so wretched, almost agonizing for him. It forces his entire body to shake and tremble, sobs being wrung out of him almost forcefully.

I want. him. to be okay. and happy. and I know he won't be. Aughfhhg.

#minecraft diaries #mcd rewrite #minecraft diaries rewrite #text post #aphblr #mcd headcanons #writing #laurance zvahl #laurance mcd #minecraft diaries garroth #garroth ro'meave #mcd aphmau #mcd cadenza #mcd kenmur #way too long #so many words #gay block men

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