#sorry it took so long to reply to this one but i wanted to do this and i was in Barcelona w/o my laptop

[greengoblinswifey]

Steamy Nights—Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you’re a sheltered college student who recently got your first job as a housekeeper at a fancy hotel. you stumble upon Nicholas Chavez while cleaning and he invites you to his hot tub in his room where one thing leads to another. based on this request.

warnings— age gap(reader is 19) praise kink, slight body worship, fingering, oral(f!receiving), daddy kink, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, creampie, aftercare.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

It had been a few weeks since you left your hometown and the ever-watchful eyes of your parents. You were finally in college, away from the suffocating grip of your sheltered upbringing. Now, you were free—free to explore, meet new people, and experience the world on your own terms. You'd always been the quiet, reserved type, but something inside you wanted to change that. You were ready to break out of your shell, to do what everyone else seemed to be doing, partying, flirting, and fucking.

You'd just landed your first job, working as a housekeeper at one of the fanciest hotels in the city. The kind of place where top CEOs, celebrities, and influencers stayed. The pay was decent, and it gave you the freedom you longed for, even though you were still adjusting to the hustle of your new life. You had a lot of cleaning to do, and the hours passed by quickly, but today was different. You were already thinking about the freedom you'd have once your shift was over, but you hadn't expected to find what you did next.

As you entered another room to clean, you realized there was no “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging from the door handle. You assumed it was just another room to tidy, so you entered without hesitation. The sight that greeted you, however, left you frozen.

The man standing before you was unreal. His body was sculpted like a Greek statue, muscles rippling under his damp skin, droplets of water glistening on his chest. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. For a moment, you couldn't find your voice.

“Sorry! I—I’m so sorry,” you stammered, your face flushed. “There wasn't a sign on the door and I just thought—”

You tried to turn away quickly, but your gaze was fixed on him, unable to tear yourself away from his presence. Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but be entranced by his sharp features, the way the towel clung to his waist.

He chuckled softly, his deep voice sending a wave of warmth through your body. “It's fine, princess. Why so nervous?” he asked, his smirk playful yet intense.

You swallowed hard, trying to collect yourself. “I, um, I’m sorry, really.”

He took a step closer, and your breath hitched as he looked you over with what felt like a mixture of curiosity and awe. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “I'm Nicholas by the way, Nicholas Chavez.”

You blinked, a realization dawning on you. Nicholas Chavez. The famous actor. You’d seen him on billboards, in tv shows, and even heard girls talk about him endlessly. He was everywhere. And now, here he was, standing before you in nothing but a towel.

“I, uh, I know who you are,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up even more.

He smiled, eyes softening as he looked at you. “Good. You have a name?”

“Yeah, it's Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said smoothly, his voice low. He took a small step toward you, and you felt your pulse quicken. “So, how old are you?” he asked casually, his gaze lingering on you.

“I’m nineteen,” you replied, feeling a little shy under his attention.

He chuckled, his gaze never leaving you. “Nineteen, huh? You're—full of surprises.”

You blinked, unsure what he meant by that, but his next words made your heart skip a beat.

“How about this,” he said with a sly grin. “When your shift is over, come find me. My private hot tub’s always open. I’ll be waiting.”

For a moment, you hesitated, your mind racing. You’d always been the shy, sheltered girl, but something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, it made you feel different. More alive. Maybe this was your chance to break free from your past, to do something bold.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”

His smile widened, and he gave you a wink before turning away, heading back to the bed. “The door’s always open for you,” he said over his shoulder as he flopped onto the bed, his gaze lingering on you. “Take your time.”

You felt a rush of excitement and nerves all at once. You finished your cleaning quickly, your thoughts buzzing with what was to come. You couldn’t stop thinking about him—about his body, his voice, the way he had looked at you. You felt like you were about to step into a new chapter of your life, one that you had been longing for.

The hours passed slowly, but finally, it was time. You’d made sure to pick out a sexy bathing suit, to wear underneath your clothes. As you approached his room, your heart raced with anticipation. You unlocked the door with your housekeeper’s key and pushed it open, your eyes immediately falling on him.

Nicholas was there, lounging on the bed in nothing but his trunks, his body looking just as perfect as before. He looked up and saw you standing there, and his eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You came,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You swallowed, nodding. “I— I came.”

As he sat up on the bed, your eyes couldn't help but trace the lines of his muscles, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. He was a vision of pure temptation, and for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel nervous. You felt almost empowered.

You stepped out of your clothes and into the soft light of his hotel suite, the anticipation buzzing in the air. You tugged at the straps of your bathing suit, a sudden surge of confidence rushing through you as you revealed the simple yet daring swimwear underneath. His eyes flickered, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you, his gaze darkening with something deeper.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice low and appreciative. “You’re gorgeous. Look at you.”

Your heart raced at his words, the heat in your cheeks making you feel more alive than you ever. You gave him a shy smile, but he could see through it, he knew exactly how his words were making you feel. He moved toward you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you as his hands gently took you in his arms.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice steady and warm. You squealed in surprise as he effortlessly swept you off your feet, carrying you toward the hot tub on the balcony. The steam rising from the water mingled with the cool night air, creating a perfect atmosphere that made your pulse race even faster.

He set you down gently, the water soothing against your skin as he stepped in after you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something magnetic about him, something raw and unspoken. He was powerful, confident, and completely in control, yet there was a kindness in his gaze that made you feel like the only person in the world.

“So, tell me about yourself,” he asked, his voice smooth like velvet. His hand brushed against your back, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the warmth of his touch.

You took a breath, trying to steady yourself. “Well, I’m new to all of this. I grew up a little sheltered, honestly. But I’m in college now, and I wanted to break out of my shell—experience things for myself.”

Nicholas’ eyes softened with understanding, and he gave you a small nod. “I like that,” he said, his voice deepening. “You’ve got spirit.”

You could feel your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little nervously. “I guess I’m just tired of playing it safe.”

He stepped closer, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in just enough to make you dizzy. “What if I told you that you don’t have to play it safe anymore?” His hand found your cheek, cupping it gently as he held your gaze. “What if I told you there’s so much more to explore, if you’re willing?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you nodded, not trusting your voice for a moment. His words had unlocked something inside you, something that felt like a new beginning.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked, barely above a whisper. You could feel the tension between you two, the chemistry so thick you could almost taste it.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “A lot of things. Are you down for anything?”

You could feel your pulse spike, the weight of his question making your stomach flip with excitement. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but the conviction behind it was clear. You were ready. Ready to let go and experience everything that this night had to offer.

Nicholas didn’t need any more encouragement. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow at first. But then the kiss deepened, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded eagerly, your body moving against his as you got lost in the moment. His mouth was hungry, but gentle, as if savoring every second.

He broke away for a moment, looking down at you with something unreadable in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the heat of his gaze burning into you. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his fingers gently grazing your skin.

Nicholas was so close now, his body radiating warmth as his hands gently traced the contours of your body, making you feel things you’d never experienced before. His eyes never left yours, and you could feel the raw hunger in his gaze.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured, his lips barely brushing your ear. “Everything about you is perfect.” His fingers slowly moved up, grazing your side, sending a rush of heat straight to your pussy. He paused, then gently tugged at the strings of your bikini top, his eyes darkening as the fabric loosened. “God,” he breathed, looking at you in awe as the top fell away, exposing your tits to him.

You couldn’t stop the flutter in your chest, the way your pulse quickened at his words. You’d never felt more exposed, yet somehow, with him, it felt right. “So juicy,” he whispered, his voice husky as he lowered his head. His lips brushed the soft curve of your breast, and you gasped softly, unable to stop the soft moans that escaped your lips. “Your moans are hot,” he said.

Your body reacted to every touch, every brush of his hands. His touch felt like fire on your skin, leaving you trembling. The sensation of his hands on your body was overwhelming, and when his fingers gently cupped your breast, you couldn’t help but let out another moan, louder this time.

“God, your boobs are amazing,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as his lips found yours again in a hungry kiss. You kissed him back with the same fervor, your body pressing closer to his, feeling the heat of his chest against you. His body was solid, strong, and you could feel every inch of him as he held you close.

His hand moved slowly down your body, his fingers grazing the edge of your bikini bottom. He didn’t rush, he was savoring every moment, as if he knew this was all new to you. His hand lingered there, rubbing over pussy through the fabric, making you squirm slightly. The water splashed around you, but it only heightened the lust between you both.

You moaned softly as he rubbed your clothed pussy faster, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, and the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your body, his eyes full of desire. “You’re so fucking hot,” he said. There was no mistaking the way he felt—he wanted you, just as much as you wanted him.

With a gentle but insistent pull, he guided you closer, your bodies pressed together, the heat from the water mixing with the heat between you. His lips found yours once more, and as you kissed him back, you felt the world narrowing down to just the two of you, two bodies, two souls connecting in the steam and the quiet night.

What do you want, princess?” His voice was thick with desire, his lips lingering near your ear.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding as you thought about what you wanted. “I need to feel more. I need you to make me—make me cum.”

He chuckled softly, his breath warm on your neck. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to your bikini bottom. He was so careful, making sure you were comfortable with every movement. He kissed you again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent, as though he couldn’t wait to explore more of you.

The water splashed lightly around you as you both moved, the sound of your breaths mingling with the soft hum of the jets. His hand moved lower, brushing gently against you. He pulled your strings, easily ripping off your bikini then slipped a finger inside your wetness. You couldn’t help but gasp, the sensation of his fingers inside you unfamiliar yet thrilling.

“I’m a virgin by the way, I should’ve mentioned that earlier.”

“Shit, are you okay, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look at you. You nodded, your fingers curling into his chest as you pulled him closer.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you whispered, your body reacting instinctively to his finger curling inside you. He slipped another finger inside you, your nails digging into his huge biceps and he took the moment to rub your clit. Your moans and the sound of water splashing was all he could hear.

“Nick— I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice thick with approval. “Cum for me, baby.”

And for the first time in your life, you did. You squirted on his fingers, feeling the tension in your body release as you surrendered to the moment, to him.

“Fucking hell, you look so pretty when you cum, y’know that?” he murmured, brushing your hair from your face.

“Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like this so, no,” you laughed.

You suddenly realized you were butt ass naked in front of a man for the first time as his eyes raked over your body, drinking you in like you were a sculpture in a museum. Your hands went instinctively to your boobs, covering yourself as he stared too long.

“Oh baby, don’t hide yourself, you’re fucking beautiful,” he murmured, taking your hands and placing it on his bulge. You felt how hard he was, and how big.

Nicholas pulled down his swim trunks, and stepped out of the water in all his glory. The warm water cascaded over his body and all the way down to his cock that was standing at attention. The steam was a paid actor like himself—setting the mood and reflecting the heat between you. He took your hand and helped you out of the hot tub, both of you dripping with arousal and remnants of water.

As you stood there, his towel draped loosely around his waist, you couldn’t help but notice how impossibly broad and strong his frame was. The water glistened off his chest, highlighting his defined muscles, and you felt an involuntary shiver of anticipation.

He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against your skin as he took up a towel and dried you off. You swallowed hard, heart hammering in your chest as his hands lingered just a little longer than necessary, making it hard for you to breathe.

“Come on baby,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding as he led you back toward the bedroom, your pulse quickening with every step. The moment you entered, he closed the door behind you, the weight of his presence filling the room.

Before you could even process what was happening, he pushed you gently onto the bed, your body sinking into the softness of the mattress. The action was quick, but there was nothing hurried about the way he looked at you—there was a quiet intensity in his gaze, like he couldn’t wait to see where this would go.

He stood at the edge of the bed for a moment, watching you as you caught your breath, your body still damp from the hot tub. “You know,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, “you’re absolutely beautiful.” His words sent a wave of heat through you, making you flush as his gaze dropped to your body, his eyes darkening with desire.

You could barely find your voice. “Th-thank you,” you stammered, trying to steady yourself, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to focus. You weren’t sure if you were nervous or excited, maybe both.

Nicholas moved closer, leaning down until his face was just inches from your glistening pussy. “Can I taste you?” he asked softly, his lips hovering over you.

You nodded, barely able to speak, but your lips parted as he moved in. His mouth moved against your pussy slow at first, tentative almost, as if testing the waters. But as he began licking faster, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded by pressing your pussy against him, the heat of his mouth making you dizzy with desire.

“You’re taste so fucking good,” he murmured against your clit, his voice a husky growl. You moaned softly in response, your body already reacting to his tongue all over you. It was the first time anyone had made you feel like this, so exposed and yet so wanted.

Your breath caught in your throat as you gathered the courage to speak. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you whispered.

He smiled, that wicked grin curling at the edges of his lips at the nickname you appointed to him. “Wow, we’ll address that after you cum on my tongue, so go ahead,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.

As if your body was waiting for the go ahead, you arched from the bed, your hands immediately gripping his hair as you ground your pussy all over his mouth. You moaned as you squirted and he took the opportunity to slurp every drop of what your pussy had to over.

“Mm— that’s my good girl, you taste like fucking Heaven, sweetheart,” he praised in between his licks.

He moved up to you, his lips glistening with your arousal and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him and relishing in your savory taste. As you did, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you, his pre cum leaking and smearing on you. It felt so good, you wanted to suck his dick but you needed him to fuck you even more.

“So, daddy kink hmm? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any hotter,” Nicholas said, that gorgeous smirk on his face.

You buried your face in his neck, grinding your pussy against his shaft as you let out small whimpers in his ear. You needed that dick, bad.

“You’re so needy sweetheart, what is it, you want my cock?”

You let out a soft ‘mhmm’ still grinding against him as your body shuddered, if you weren’t careful, you knew you’d cum from just doing that.

“Words baby, I need words, do you want daddy to take your virginity?” he asked. When he saw you, he knew he wanted you for a fun night and more, he would’ve never thought a beautiful woman like you was still a virgin and would be up for a night with him. Let’s be real, if a guy like him asked you to come to his room after hours, he was looking to fuck and you, a virgin, knowingly came to his room. Though, he needed to know you were on board.

“Yes, please, I want you to take my virginity, please fuck me,” you whimpered.

He reached to pull out the nightstand drawer and you knew immediately what he was reaching for.

“N-no condom,” you muttered, grabbing his hand, “I’d like to feel all of you for my first time, i-if that’s okay.”

“‘Course baby, anything for you,” he smiled.

He moved back on top of you, stroking his length and spreading the pre cum all over. Looking at how big he was, you wondered how he would fit.

“You sure you want to do this sweetheart? You can still back out if you want to, the decision is all yours,” he said, concern etched on his face.

“I’m sure Nicholas,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down.

His leaking tip rubbed against your folds, the sound of your wetness filling the hotel room.

“I’m gonna go slow baby but it’s still going to be a bit uncomfortable at first, if it’s gets too painful, all you have to say is stop, yeah?”

You nodded your head and smiled, appreciative of his words, you wouldn’t want to be losing your virginity in any other scenario with anyone else but him.

Slowly, he began easing his cock into you, muttering praises and placing kisses all over your face. Your face contorted from the pain and pleasure and you tried your best to relax so he could move further.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay, the worst part’s gonna be over soon,” he uttered, before placing a kiss on your lips.

He slowly pushed into you more, peppering kisses and cooing at you. You’d never felt to full, your fingers when you touched yourself didn’t compare to how big he was inside you. Your jaw fell agape as the slight pain finally subsided and you were overcome with pleasure.

“Daddy,” you moaned as he began to move at a steady pace, his cocky repeatedly brushing against your sweet spot.

“There she is, there’s daddy’s girl,” he cooed, placing another kiss on your lips.

His words made your pussy clench and a flutter grew in your heart, this man was doing things to you no man had ever done.

“Faster,” you urged, grinding against him.

He granted your wish, pounding into you faster and making your body jolt upwards. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping filled the room and soon, you felt your approaching orgasm.

“So fucking tight, just clenching around me like that, I know you wanna cum, cum on daddy’s cock baby.”

Your nails dug into his back leaving a trail of fire and he pounded into you just the way you liked it.

“Oh fuck— daddy,” you cried, grabbing him and pulling him flush against you. You shuddered as your orgasm ripped through you, your juices soaking the bed as he pulled out.

As he looked down, there was a bit of blood between your legs and on his cock. He quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned you up then himself, placing a kiss on your thigh.

You glimpsed the blood stained towel and buried your face in your hands.

“I— I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—”

He cut you off with a passionate kiss, cupping your cheeks.

“You don’t need to apologize, it’s natural and normal sweetheart.”

You gave him a small smile and he flipped you on top of him swiftly, making you squeal.

“I know it’s your first time but I need you to ride me baby, need to see those fucking tits bounce and have you on top of me.”

“Anything for you,” you smirked, though nervous.

You lined his awaiting cock with your dripping pussy, rubbing it against you and making it drip down his shaft.

“Fucking hell, you’re amazing,” he moaned, bucking his hips.

Slowly, you sank down onto him, both moaning in unison as your warmth and wetness engulfed each other. It was like fireworks exploded, this was everything you had dreamed of. It was a burning stretch but the pain soon turned into pleasure.

You bounced on his cock and he moved his hips to meet your thrusts.

“Oh God— daddy,” you moaned, feeling him hit a whole new spot inside you, you thought was impossible.

“Yeah? You like that? You like riding daddy’s cock? Fucking say it,” he panted.

“I— I love riding daddy’s cock, fuck me harder,” you moaned.

“Good fucking girl.”

He thrusted up into you, grabbing your boobs and playing with your nipples as he did. Your moans were like music to his ears and soon, he felt the familiar feeling of your pussy fluttering and clenching around him like you didn’t want to let him go.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight baby, cum for daddy, soak daddy’s cock.”

Falling on top of him, your body convulsed and your orgasm overtook you, soaking his length and the sheets below you once more. You knew the housekeepers would complain, they always did when the sheets were covered in bodily fluid, hell, you did too, oh the irony.

“Stay just like that baby, daddy’s gonna pump you full of cum,” he murmured.

Nicholas pinned your hands behind your back, the action unusual but making your head swoon.

“Oh, you like that don’t you?” he asked, fucking up into you hard.

“I love it daddy, faster,” you begged.

“As you wish.” His cock began slamming into you faster and soon, you felt the unmistakable feeling of something warm, filling you to the brim.

“That feels so good,” you moaned, grinding against him.

“I know baby, take daddy’s cum, take it in that tight fucking pussy.”

He slowly thrusted into you before he pulled out, the feeling leaving you empty yet fulfilled.

You laid there, tangled in each other, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chests.

“Did you enjoy yourself beautiful?,” he asked, as you leaned up to look at him.

“More than I could ever imagine.”

He smiled and gave you a kiss on the lips before making his way to the bathroom and coming back with a warm cloth. He cleaned you up, littering kisses as he did.

“You’re so beautiful, I’m so lucky,” he muttered. His words made your heart flutter, would this be a regular occurrence?

“I think I’m lucky too,” you laughed, “a famous actor just took my virginity.”

“And I’d like to take it all over again in the morning, will you stay the night?” he inquired, tossing the cloth on the couch.

“I don’t think I can, I already broke a rule sleeping with a guest but literally sleeping over in a guest’s room? I’d get fired and it’s my first job I—“

He cut you off with a finger over your lips. “Shh, forget who I am? I’ll pull some strings, and even if you do get fired, I’ll easily take care of you.”

You buried your face in his firm chest and he fell onto the bed beside you. The romantic night went on with you tangled in each other’s arms and Nicholas littering kisses all over your face. Who knew being a housekeeper would score you such a big tip.

[raekensluver]

the thanksgiving lie (introduction)

introduction, part one

description: every year, your mother calls to nag you about whether you're bringing anyone to thanksgiving. this time, you panic and say the first name that comes to mind- spencer reid.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

contains: fake dating trope, fluff

song rec: there is a light that never goes out by the smiths "and in the darkened underpass i thought, oh god, my chance has come at last"

w.c: 1.3k

an: happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate!

"mom, i've got to go," you said, your eyes darting to the clock.

with the phone pressed to your ear, you could almost feel the anticipation radiating from the other side. "i know," your mom's voice chimed, "i'm sorry i just wanted to ask if you're bringing anyone special to thanksgiving this year?" her tone a perfect blend of hopefulness and curiosity. you paused, staring at the wall, the question hanging in the air like a forgotten halloween decoration. the clock ticked away, each second echoing louder than the last.

desperately, your gaze flitted around the room, searching for inspiration. and then, as if the universe had conspired to throw you a lifeline, it landed on spencer reid. he was engrossed in a book, the tip of his pen dancing across a notepad, lost in his own world of logic and analysis. you blurted out his name before your brain could catch up with your mouth. "yeah, actually, i might bring someone," you said, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. "who?" your mom's tone shot up an octave, excitement seeping through the line.

your heart pounded as you watched spencer, who remained blissfully unaware of the chaos he had just been unwittingly dragged into. you took a deep breath and hoped for the best. "spencer reid," you replied, as casually as you could manage. there was a beat of silence on the other end of the call, long enough for you to wonder if she had heard you correctly.

spencer looked up, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face as he met your eyes. you swallowed hard, your hand tightening around the phone. "spencer reid?" your mom repeated, her voice now filled with excitement. "the one who works with you at the bureau? oh, that's wonderful! i can't wait to finally meet the man who makes you talk about work even on weekends." she said, her voice brimming with approval. you nodded, even though she couldn't see you, feeling a mix of relief and dread. you hadn't even considered the possibility that she might actually believe you.

spencer's gaze remained on you, his brow furrowed slightly. you knew he had overheard your end of the conversation. your cheeks flushed as you realized you hadn't even asked him yet. "mom, i have to go now," you said quickly, cutting off any further questions she might have. "i'll let you know for sure when i know more, okay?" you didn't wait for her response before ending the call, the silence ringing in your ears.

you set the phone down, turning to face spencer. "so, about thanksgiving," you began, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. his eyes never left yours, the curiosity now a full-blown question mark. "yeah?" he said, his voice even, betraying no emotion.

swallowing your nerves, you plunged ahead. "i might have accidentally told my mom that i'm bringing someone," you admitted, watching for his reaction. spencer's eyebrows shot up, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. "oh?" was all he said, his gaze never wavering.

you took his calm demeanor as a good sign and continued. "so, do you have any plans for thanksgiving?" you asked, trying to sound as casual as you could while your stomach was doing somersaults. "not particularly," he replied, setting his book aside and placing his notepad on the coffee table. "why do you ask?"

his curiosity had turned into suspicion, the gears in his brilliant mind already turning. "well, i kind of… mentioned that you might come with me to my family's dinner," you said, the words tumbling out of your mouth. his eyes widened a fraction, the only indication that he was surprised by your revelation. "you did?"

his voice remained neutral, but you could see the wheels turning behind those piercing blue eyes. "yeah," you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "i just thought, you know, it would be nice to have someone to talk to, and she's been asking every year if i'm bringing anyone special, and this year i just panicked and said your name." you rushed to explain, your words coming out in a jumbled mess.

spencer leaned back into his chair, his fingers tapping a silent rhythm on the armrest. "interesting," he said. "and what exactly does 'might come with you' entail?" he inquired, his gaze never leaving yours.

you took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to organize your thoughts. "it means, if you don't have any plans, you could come with me to my parents' place for thanksgiving," you said, hoping the simplicity of the offer would be enough. "you know, to meet the family, eat some turkey, pretend to be my boyfriend for a night?"

his expression didn't change, but his tapping stopped. "pretend to be your boyfriend?" he echoed, his voice a tad skeptical. "what makes you think i would agree to that?"

you felt your cheeks grow hotter, but you didn't back down. "desperate times call for desperate measures," you said with a weak smile. "please, spencer. i don't know what else to do. she'll never let up if i go alone again."

spencer studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. then, with a sigh, he leaned forward. "alright, i'll do it," he said, holding up a hand to stop your relieved rush of words.

you felt a weight lift from your shoulders, but your heart remained in your throat. "really?" you asked.

"really," spencer said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "but only if you promise me one thing."

you nodded eagerly, willing to agree to almost anything at this point. "anything," you said, hope blossoming in your chest.

"you have to tell me everything about your family," spencer said, his smile growing slightly. "i want to be prepared."

you nodded, a wave of gratitude washing over you. "i will," you promised, "i'll fill you in on the drive."

spencer's smile grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. "deal," he said, standing up and extending his hand to shake on it. you took his hand, feeling a jolt of excitement run up your arm. "thursday it is,"

[screamlet]

wip wednesday (bucktommy fix-it edition)

a longer eddie+tommy excerpt from this wip that's getting out of control. some context: tommy has shaved off his hair in the gay heartbreak tradition of our people.

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Tommy knows he's a creature of habit, but it's still disquieting to discover that sometimes people learn his habits. For example: Tommy regularly likes to hit up one specific cozy restaurant on his free nights and have dinner at the bar, him and a book. Sometimes he'd strike up a conversation with someone at the bar but, most of the time, he had his quiet, familiar corner at the bar with a drink or two, his dinner, and whatever he was reading that week.

Tonight, someone buys him his beer and that someone is Eddie, who's sitting across the bar from him when he arrives. He toasts to Tommy, then gets out of his seat and comes around to sit with him.

"Thanks for the beer," Tommy replies. "So what's going on?"

"Just checking in. You've been quiet."

Tommy raises his eyebrows at him. "Huh. Have I? I wonder."

For a second, Eddie's look is scathing, and then sympathetic, genuine. "How are you doing?"

He imagined the briefest cartoonish image where he tips his head back and chugs the entire beer in one go, but it takes so long that Eddie sighs and leaves. He thinks about doing something that dumb for longer than he should before he does the adult thing and shrugs a shoulder at him. "Just fine, how about you?"

Eddie tilts his head 90 degrees, like he's had his neck snapped. "Just fine? You break up with your boyfriend of six months and—hey, Tommy? Should I mention the hair? Or the lack of it?"

Tommy smiles broadly; his face aches to be this fake, but he used to be a pro at it. "I thought I'd try something new." He takes another sip. "Thanks for the beer. Does Buck know you're here? Crossing enemy lines?"

"Wow, he said you called him Buck and I didn't believe him, but you really did that." Eddie shudders. "Stop doing that. And what enemy lines? We're friends, idiot."

Tommy gives him a playful look. "Come on. No we're not. You're his best friend. You don't need to pretend. I get it."

Eddie clears his throat. "You know Buck can have more than one friend at the same time?"

"And he does," Tommy assures him. "He's got you and the whole 118, his sister, everyone who's connected with you guys. He's good. I'm good. We're good."

"Tommy, listen." Eddie shifts in his seat and leans in closer. "Show me a real emotion in the next 10 seconds or I'll punch your cheekbones into your skull for leading on my best friend for six months. He cares about you, Tommy. Do you have any idea how much? I thought you did. He took it seriously—did you?"

He considers Eddie carefully and then looks away. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm doing okay. I cared about him a lot, too, and now we've broken up. It happens. Thanks for checking on me. You don't have to do that anymore."

It's quiet between them for a minute, then another. Tommy puts in his dinner order and motions to Eddie, who shakes his head and says he doesn't want anything. Tommy leans back in his seat and that's when he starts to sweat. If Eddie's just going to sit there and watch him, wait him out, then Eddie's going to win. Tommy's good at this, great at faking it until he makes it, but it's—it's hard to sit under the microscope for this long, especially when Eddie seems to have nothing but time on his hands and nothing to do but wait for Tommy to crack.

"I'm not here to get you guys back together," Eddie finally says. "I really am here to see how you're doing. I see Buck at work; I don't see you, but I want to keep seeing you. I want us to be friends, no matter what happens between the two of you."

Tommy laughs. "God, and why would you want that? You've got better things to do with your time. Seriously, go call your kid or something."

"His name is Christopher, Tommy, and get his name out of your mouth if that's how you feel about him, about me and him."

Tommy nods, apologetic. "Sorry. But I do mean it: I free you of your obligation."

Eddie's quiet again and says, with even more disbelief, "You don't want to be my friend anymore? And don't call me a child, Tommy, I'm serious. You know adults have friends, too, right? And sometimes people break up and the world keeps turning and we can still be friends, you and me. You and Chim, you and Hen, even Bobby will come around because he likes you. You're still Tommy."

"I don't think that's how you guys work," Tommy says. "I don't think anyone stays in your circle without Buck tying them there. Maybe you and I can meet up for basketball, spar at the gym, hang out at my place, but I'm telling you that's a lot of work and you don't have to do it."

"I never had to do it, Tommy," Eddie replies. "I wanted to because I wanted to be your friend. You are my friend, and Buck isn't gonna change that."

Tommy laughs dryly and looks away. "He changes everything, Eddie."

[v6quewrlds]

i saw you’re accepting dad/husband joe content eek!! could you write abt joe forgetting about his baby girl’s birthday because he’d been working all day? i love your writing smm 💗💗

you stood in the bustling kitchen, your eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. the aroma of baking cookies filled the air, a sweet pattern of sugar and spice that seemed to mock the chaos that surrounded you. you wiped your hands on your apron, the fabric smudged with a rainbow of icing colors, and took a deep breath. the clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, each one a silent reminder of tomorrow's birthday party you were in the throes of preparing for.

amara and noa giggled in the living room, their laughter a delightful contrast to the pounding in your head. you glanced over your shoulder to find them playing with a pile of balloons, their cheeks rosy and eyes shining with mischief. "girls, dinner will be ready soon," you called out, hoping the promise of food would keep the chaos at bay for just a bit longer.

the door swung open, and joe's towering frame filled the doorway. the cool evening air brushed past him, carrying the faint scent of the falling autumn leaves. he looked exhausted, the shadows under his blue eyes betraying the toll the season was taking on him. you felt a pang of guilt for the mess you hadn't yet managed to hide, but it was quickly swallowed by your own fatigue. "welcome home, baby," you said with a forced smile. "how was your day?"

joe sighed, his eyes sweeping over the kitchen. "long," he replied, his voice gravelly. he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over a chair. "but i'm home now." he walked over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, planting a kiss on your forehead. "what do you need me to do?"

you leaned into him for a moment, your body language screaming for relief. "could you take the girls for their baths?" you asked, your voice a mix of hope and weariness. "they've been driving me up the wall."

joe's expression softened, and he nodded. "of course, i've got it," he said, releasing you from his embrace. he scooped up noa, her chubby cheeks squealing with glee, and held out his other hand to amara. "c'mon, pumpkin, let's give your mama a break. it's bath time."

the girls trailed behind joe as he headed towards the bathroom, the sound of their laughter echoing down the hallway. you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your husband, so at ease with your daughters despite the stress of his career. you took a moment to appreciate the quiet that had descended upon the kitchen, the only noise the gentle hiss of the oven.

in the bathroom, joe filled the tub with steaming water and bubbles. he tried to ignore the twinge of sadness in his heart knowing that he had missed most of amara's special day. he looked down at his watch, the glint of the gold band catching the light. "okay, missy," he said, turning to amara. "let's get you cleaned up. tomorrow's the big party, and we want you looking your best for all your friends, don't we?"

amara nodded solemnly, her curly pigtails bobbing with the movement. she stepped into the tub, her tiny hands gripping the side tightly. noa watched from her bouncer, her attention occupied by toys adorning the toy bar. as joe helped amara settle in, she looked up at him, her doe eyes filled with a sudden sadness.

"what's wrong, sweetheart?" joe asked, noticing the shift in amara's mood. he knelt beside the tub, his long legs folding beneath him with a quiet grace.

amara's voice was barely a whisper. "you forgot to tell me happy birthday, daddy."

joe felt his heart drop. he had been so consumed with his own responsibilities, he hadn't even realized he had missed the moment. "amara," he said, his voice filled with regret. "i'm so sorry, baby girl. i didn't forget. it's just been a long day for me. happy birthday!" he leaned in and kissed her forehead, her skin soft and warm against his lips.

the sadness in amara's eyes didn't dissipate. "but you didn't tell me when i woke up," she said, her voice small.

joe sighed. "you're right, i didn't. and i should have. i'm so sorry, amara," he said sincerely. he took a deep breath, trying to push away the guilt that washed over him. "but you know what, i'm going to make it up to you. mommy and i are going to throw you the best party ever tomorrow. how does that sound?"

amara's eyes lit up a bit. "really?"

"really," joe nodded. "now, let's get you clean so you're all ready for your big day tomorrow, okay?" he grabbed the bubble bath bottle and squirted a generous amount into the water, watching as the bubbles grew and grew, threatening to spill over the side of the tub. amara's sadness lifted, replaced by the excitement of the promise.

[zegrasdrysdale]

hi!!! i’m a big sucker for secret relationships lol could you please do a matthew knives one where she is mitch marners younger sister and they have been secretly dating and mitch finds out in a bad way and it’s kind of angsty but then everything works out? thank you for your time!!

[ my little secret ] m. knies

paring : Matthew Knies x fem!reader

summary : Matthew and his girlfriend accidentally expose their entire eight month relationship after he gets hurt during a game, and Mitch isn't very happy about it

warning(s) : angst galore (but w a happy ending), mentions of injury, injured!kniesy, occasional use of y/n

author’s note : wanted to write something angsty and decided to knock out a request at the same time. enjoy and sorry this request took so long <33

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The game is going okay. Right now, the Leafs are up 2-1 against rival Boston. Her brother has assists on both Toronto goals while Matthew scored the go-ahead goal about halfway through the third. The Leafs defense is playing great defense and blocking shots from the Bruins. The forwards are keeping Boston from getting any momentum when they hop over the boards for each shift.

This is probably the best the Leafs have looked all season against a surging Boston team that struggled at the beginning of the season.

It's not long after Matthew scores the go-ahead goal that Boston begins to show some frustration. Their physical players begin to get a little more physical, laying more hits on the Leafs players. The Leafs are taking those hits like champs and some are returning the same physicality.

Until Brad Marchand lays a hard hit on Matt and he lands awkwardly on his outstretched arm. Her boyfriend curls up on the ice around the arm he landed on and a whistle is blown. A member of the training staff is immediately on the ice to look at Matthew.

She stands up with the crowd around her, hands covering her mouth as she waits for Matt to stand up. The crowd at Scotiabank Arena is so quiet, she should hear a pin drop from the other side of the stands.

It feels like an eternity later when Matt gets up on his own. The crowd claps for him, but she's too focused on the fact that he's holding his left arm close to his body. Mitch skates right behind him with his stick, which is hands to the equipment manager while Matthew goes down the tunnel.

With about five minutes left in the period and the Leafs up in the game, she makes her way down to the hallway that contains the in-arena gym, locker room, equipment room, and the athletic training room where Matt probably is.

She shows her credentials before she's let into the hallway. The horn on the ice sounds and the crowd cheers, signaling either a goal or a Leafs win. She's not sure how much time has gone by by the time she is standing outside the training room door.

After knocking lightly, she pushes open the door a little bit to get a look at her boyfriend. She sees Matthew on one of the tables half undressed. He only has on his shorts, socks, and skates. His gear is on the floor with his jersey and compression shirt.

The doctor notices her before Matt does. "Sorry, but you can't be he-"

"It's fine," Matt winces as the doctor presses on his wrist. "She's here for me anyway. Come on in, (Y/N)."

She steps into the medical room and walks up to Matt on the table. His doctor keeps pressing on and examining his wrist. He has Matt wiggle his fingers, tests his wrist flexion, and he finds the most painful points.

All while Matt winces in pain. A second horn goes off and the crowd above them cheers. The song that usually plays after a Leafs win starts to play, which means the boys will be making their way back to the locker room any second.

"Well, good news is that your wrist isn't broken," the doctor explains to Matt. "But I do think you have a mild sprain. I'd like to get scans done in the morning to confirm."

"And how long will I be out?" Matt asks.

"With rest and recovery, two weeks minimum," his doctor replies. "If you come back too early, it could be longer so I suggest staying off the ice until I clear you to return to practice. We'll come back and reassess a week from tomorrow once I confirm the sprain then come up with a plan to return to play. Until then, rest. I'll give you a brace you can use for the next few days."

Matt nods and the doctor walks off to find a brace that he'll use for a while. She intertwines her fingers with his as soon as the doctor has his back turned to them. He looks up at her with big, sad eyes. She frowns at the sight of a sad Matthew Knies.

This is a risky moment for both of them given where they're at, but she couldn't help but touch him and show him that she's here for him since she can't say anything right now. Not with the team doctor ten feet away from them.

The doctor turns around and she pulls their fingers apart. Matt holds out his injured wrist so the doctor can show him how to put the brace on. "How does it feel?" he asks Matt. "Not too snug?"

"Nope," he replies. "Comfortable."

"Good," the doctor says. "I want to see you back here in the morning for some x-rays and other tests to rule out breaks or internal damage. Okay?"

Matt nods and the doctor claps him on the back. He leaves the room, probably to go tell the coaching staff about his injury. Matt sighs and reaches to grab his compression shirt when he hops off the table.

She glances at the door to make sure no one walks in before she pulls Matthew into a hug by his torso once his shirt is on.

"I'm so sorry you got hurt, Matty," she softly says into his chest. "That hit looked bad. It could've been so much worse. I'm so glad it wasn't."

"I'm still benched for at least a week," Matt sighs. He runs his fingers through her wavy locks before he cradles her head against his body. "I'll be staying here while the boys go out on that west coast roadie. I was looking forward to some California sun after a few inches of snow over the weekend."

There's a hint of amusement in his voice, but she doesn't find it very funny. She peels her face off his chest and looks up at him. "It's not funny, Matthew," she tells him. "You got hurt. You avoided what may have been a season ending injury, but you still got hurt. None of this is very funny to me, and you're cracking jokes about missing out on the California sun."

He realizes what his words were and quickly becomes apologetic. "I'm sorry, baby," he says. "No injury is funny, even one as minor as mine."

"I thought you were really hurt, Matty," she admits. "When you were down on the ice. I thought that something was broken or torn while you were lying there. What if this was worse than a wrist sprain and you were making jokes about missing games?"

Matthew's healthy hand slides to cup her face. He rubs his thumb along her cheekbone and frowns. "I'm okay," he whispers to her. "I'm okay. Nothing is torn or broken or dislocated. It's just a sprain. It's not season ending and I'll be back on the ice in a week. It just sucks that I'm out at all."

She presses her face back into his chest and he engulfs her in a hug. He buries his head into her hair and presses a kiss to her temple. "You're okay," she echoes. "Thank God you're okay."

He softly hums into her hair. She looks up at him at the same time he tilts her head up. Matthew leans down since his skates give him a little extra inches to his six-foot-three frame. Their lips meet in a soft kiss when she gets on her tiptoes. Her hands grasp at his shorts to give her some stablity.

They stand like that longer than they probably should, but she can't help but kiss him. All her anxiety about the last fifteen minutes melt away the longer the kiss goes.

The door opens and she hears her brother's voice. "How you doing in here, Kniesy?" Mitch questions. They both jump away from each other and look at Mitch, who stops in his tracks when he sees his little sister in the training room with his teammate. "(Y/N), why are you-- with Matthew? Kissing Matthew?"

She quickly looks between her brother and her boyfriend. "I, um ..." she trails off. Then Mitch angrily starts toward the two of them with a look in his eyes that she's seen before when the two of them caught an ex cheating on her. "Mitchy, stop." She tries to push against him with little success.

"My little sister?" Mitch asks as he shoves Matthew. "Are you kidding me?" Matt stumbles backward a little bit since he's still in his skates. She grabs at Mitch's t-shirt to try and stop him, but he overpowers her for a second time.

"Mitch," she tries again. "Enough. I'm an adult. I'm allowed to be with whoever I want to be with."

Mitch looks back at her. "This is my teammate, (Y/N)," he tells her. "My goddamn linemate most games, and you're in here kissing him? He's one of my closest friends and you're, what, hooking up with him behind my back?"

"It's not like that-" Matthew tries to say.

"And you," Mitch interrupts. "My little fucking sister. I trusted you and you go and do something like this? Are you actually kidding me? God, I can't believe you. Either of you. Do you know how embarrassing this is for me? That my sister and one of my teammates snuck around my best for who knows how long. Snuck around at my house, my second home."

She looks at Matt, who looks genuinely terrified of what's happening right now. "Mitch, can you listen to me for a second before you start talking about something you know nothing about?" she asks. "There is a lot more to this story than you think."

Her brother rubs his face and shakes his head. "I don't think there's anything you can tell me that I don't already know-"

"I am in love with him, Mitch!" she shouts. "We're not just hooking up or anything like that. We're actually together. I love him and he loves me. If you would listen instead of assuming things then you'd know that."

It looks like someone slapped her brother across the face when she admits to him that she loves Matt. His eyes widen and his jaw goes slack. He looks between the two of them. She takes a few steps backward so she's standing beside her boyfriend while her eyes stay on Mitch.

Mitch blinks at them for a second before he says, "I need a little bit. I just need a second before we continue this conversation because I'm beyond angry and feeling very betrayed right now. Do what the two of you want because you're going to do it anyway but please do not talk to me while I'm on this roadie. Okay?"

They both nod and Mitch turns to walk out of the room. She lets out the breath that she was holding before she looks up at Matthew, who has color in his face again.

"We should've told him when we got together," Matt tells her without looking at her. "He's right. He's one of my closest friends and he's my linemate on the ice. I shouldn't have messed with that chemistry. It might affect our on ice performance, which is going to mess with the whole team's performance. Oh my God."

"Matthew," she sighs as she steps in front of him. "Hey. I made that choice too. He's my brother and I thought he'd get angrier if we told him at first. These eight months have shown us that we love each other and that I want this forever. If we told him at first, it wouldn't have given us that chance. I don't regret not telling him because we had that time to ourselves to figure us out. I'll talk to him when he gets back from the roadie and it'll be okay. I promise."

He nods. "I need to go get changed then we can go," he tells her. "Wish me luck that he doesn't throw any of his gear at me in the locker room."

"You have my full permission to throw something back at him."

��₊✧──────✧₊∘

The week and a half that the roadie takes feels like forever. All she can do is watch her brother enter a slump while on the west coast. She respects his wishes and doesn't text or call him while he's on the road, but it's one of the hardest things she's ever had to do.

Matthew gets clears to go non-contact on the ice eight days after the initial injury. Brad Marchand was given a two game suspension and a large fine for intent to injure. At least, that's what the NHL Department of Player Safety announced the day after his hit on Matt. She sits at the Leafs practice building while she watches Matt work on some stickhandling and skating drills by himself.

It's two weeks after the game versus Boston when Mitch reaches out to his little sister.

from: big bro mitchy <3 - 3:09 pm can i come over ? to talk. i think im ready to talk

to: big bro mitchy <3 - 3:11 pm yeah. matt's here too, if that's okay

He doesn't respond, but she lets Matt know that Mitch is coming over to her apartment. They both sit on the couch when a knock announces Mitch's arrival.

She opens the door and Mitch walks into the apartment without a greeting. She's on his heels when he walks into the living room. Matt stands up to face Mitch.

"You better treat her right, Knies," Mitch tells him. She blinks in total confusion. "I mean it, Matt. If I find out that you hurt her in any way, I'll put your ass back on IR faster than you can blink. Got it?" He nods in response. "Now, can I have a few minutes alone with my sister? I have some things I need to say to her and I don't need you in the room while I do."

Matt quickly disappears down the hallway to her bedroom. The door distantly clicks shut and Mitch turns to her. She stands straight up as she faces her brother.

They look at each other for a second before she concedes first. "I am so sorry that neither of us told you about our relationship," she says. "But I'm going to tell you that I don't regret not telling you. Matt and I needed some time to figure out how we work together before we told anyone. Then we were together longer and longer and we thought you would be so mad that we didn't tell you-"

"Oh, I'm mad alright," Mitch interrupts her. "I mean, there are millions of people in the Toronto area that you could've started a relationship with. There are hundreds of players in the league itself and you chose to enter a relationship with my linemate of all people."

"You're angry because I'm dating someone on your team? she asks. "Of all the reasons to be angry, you're mad because I fell in love with Matt? Mitch, that's you're fault. You're the one that introduced us because Matt was a rookie in a big city and I'm about as old as he is. You thought that we could lean on each other since I also had just moved to Toronto to pursue a career."

"I didn't think you'd date him," Mitch retorts. "Let alone fall in love with him."

She rolls her eyes. "I can't help who I fall in love with and you should know that," she spits at him.

Mitch sighs and rubs his face. "I'm just trying to look out for you," he tells her. "You're my little sister."

"And he's one of your closest friends so you should know what kind of guy he is," she replies. "I'm 23, Mitch. I don't need you looking out for me. Believe me when I say that I very hesitantly started a relationship with Matt because I know how hockey players can be. He quickly showed me that he's not like other hockey players. He genuinely loves me, more than any of my previous boyfriends ever have."

Her brother frowns at her. "I just wish I could have watched you fall in love," he explains. "And know you were falling in love. I only find out you're in love and in a very serious relationship months later. I don't want to know how many months later but months later. It sucks not being able to watch my little sister grow up and find love until after."

Okay, she never thought of it like that. She never thought that it took away an opportunity for Mitch to watch her grow up a little bit, or find love. He was there for all her other relationships. Why not this one?

"I'm sorry, Mitchy," she softly tells him. "I really am. I don't want you to be mad because this is the best relationship I've ever been in. I'm sorry I took away watching me fall in love, but I didn't want to fall in love under the close eye of my older brother. Especially not when my boyfriend is his teammate. I needed to find me and how I worked with Matt. That's it. That's why neither of us told you."

He wraps his arms around her shoulders and envelopes her in a hug. She sighs and wraps his arms around his torso. "I could never be mad at you for very long," he admits. "I needed some time to think about what I was going to say to you when I calmed down. I didn't want to say something I might regret. I get why neither of you told me now."

"We wanted to so many times but it was never the right time," she says. "We were going to say something before the end of last season, then you were so focused on playoffs that we couldn't. Then the Boston series happened, and that wasn't the best time either. Then it was the offseason and we decided to wait even longer. Then this season started and it never seemed like the best time because the two of you had some great on ice chemistry. So we waited and waited until it was too late and it never felt like the right time."

Her brother backs away the hug and looks her in the eyes. "I don't want you to ever not tell me something because you think hockey is in the way," he sternly tells her. "I mean it. You're way more important than hockey will ever be. If you have something to tell me, then tell me next time, okay?"

She nods in response. "Got it," she softly says.

"By the way, I kind of knew something was up with you because you were around a lot more often than you were before," Mitch admits. "But you were always wearing my jersey so I thought it was because you really liked watching hockey. I had no idea it was because you were dating Matt. It makes sense looking back on it now."

A laugh passes her lips before she can stop it. "Hate to break it to you but it was because of Matt," she tells him. "I didn't wear his jersey because that would've meant telling you, which neither of us were ready for."

Mitch smiles at her. "I know," he says. "You look happy. I've never seen you this happy or in love before. It looks good on you, little sister."

"Thank you, big brother," she replies. "Can Matt come out now or are you going to give him the big brother talk?"

"Oh, I'll give that to him in the locker room," he laughs. "I'll tell you that you're allowed to wear his jersey now since I know. You've probably wanted to wear it before so you can now."

"Awesome," she says. "I've worn your jersey for too long. It's Matt's turn."

Footsteps echo down the hallway before they emerge into the living room. "I wasn't eavesdropping or anything but I heard that I could come out," Matt's voice says behind her. She turns her head and looks at her boyfriend. "Are we okay?"

Mitch walks up to her boyfriend and Matt sharply inhales. Her older brother holds out his hand. "We're good," he tells his linemate. "We're going to have our own talk though because that is my little sister you are involved with."

"Understood," Matt replies.

With a huge smile on her face, she runs up to Matt and wraps herself around his torso. "My favorite boys are friends again," she says as she looks up at Matt. "And you're no longer my little secret."

"I better be the first person you tell when you put a ring on her finger, Knies," Mitch warns. "Or bad things will happen."

"I'll come to you and ask for your permission to marry her if it'll make you feel better," Matt replies. "When we eventually get to that point."

"Good," her brother says. "I'll get out of your hair. I just wanted to come talk to you guys for a second. I'm going out with Steph for an early dinner but I didn't want you guys to think I hated you."

The boys give their version of a hug goodbye. Mitch presses a kiss to her temple before leaving. She looks at Matt.

"Feel better?" she asks. "Knowing it's not going to mess with your on ice chemistry now?"

"A little."

"What will help you feel even better?"

"I think you already know." Matt takes a step backward down the hall that leads to her bedroom.

She grins. "I like the way you think, Kniesy."

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[starrrcane]

The Underworld Beneth Piltover Chapter four:The Quiet Declaration

summary: sevika comes to borrow a book from you and ends up realizing maybe she wants to be more then friends and panics

warning: gay panic.

notes: this actually took forever to write I’m so sorry. But I finally got it done now that I’m on break😁😁 I love you guys stay safe during the holiday seasons xoxox

The faint knock on your apartment door startled you. You had just gotten home after a long shift, eager to sink into the couch and let the exhaustion melt away. Setting your bag down, you hesitated. You weren’t expecting anyone.

“Who is it?” you called, a trace of unease creeping into your voice.

“It’s Sevika,” came the familiar voice on the other side.

Your shoulders relaxed immediately, a soft smile tugging at your lips. Sevika. Of course. She hadn’t been at work today, and you’d caught yourself missing her presence—a fact you weren’t quite ready to admit even to yourself.

You opened the door, finding her standing there. Her usual stoic expression was replaced with something lighter, though she was clearly trying to play it cool.

“Hey,” she said, hands tucked into her coat pockets. “You promised.”

You blinked, confused for a moment, until she clarified, her tone teasing. “You said if I stayed off my leg, you’d give me a book to borrow.”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at her. “Wait a minute. That’s not what I promised. I said I’d *make* you read, remember? You teased me about books being for nerds.”

She grinned, unbothered. “I don’t recall saying anything like that.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping aside to let her in. “Fine, come on.”

As you led her into the living room, her gaze fell on the three towering stacks of books sitting on your side table. Her eyebrows shot up.

“This is how you keep them stored?” she asked, pointing at the precarious piles.

You crossed your arms, mock offended. “Yes, what about it?”

“No bookshelf?” she teased, smirking.

Your eyes flicked to the pile of unassembled wood and nails in the corner of the room, and you sighed. “I haven’t exactly had the time to build it yet.”

Her grin widened, a quiet chuckle escaping her. “You? Too busy to build something? Hard to believe.”

You shot her a playful glare, giving her shoulder a light smack. “Don’t start. Now, what are you looking for?”

She paused, her smirk softening as her expression grew thoughtful. “Something to help me escape this madness” she murmured.

You nodded, turning to the stacks. After a moment of searching, you pulled out a worn but beloved fantasy novel. “Here,” you said, handing it to her. “This should do the trick.”

She took it, eyeing the cover with a skeptical sigh. “Fantasy, huh?”

“Anything to get your mind off the real world,” you replied.

Her lips quirked up in a half-smile, but you noticed the way her shoulders slumped. She flipped through the first few pages, her eyes skimming the words, and you realized she wasn’t eager to leave.

“Tea?” you offered suddenly, already heading toward the kitchen.

“Sure, whatever,” she said, but her tone was lighter, and you caught the briefest flicker of excitement in her eyes.

You smiled to yourself as you poured water into the kettle, setting it to boil. When the tea was ready, you brought two mugs into the living room, handing one to Sevika.

“This is cheesy,” she remarked, still flipping through the book as she took the mug.

You shrugged, sitting down beside her. “It’s supposed to be. Just give it a chance.”

She hummed in response, sipping the tea as she read.

“What’s your favorite book?” she asked after a while, not looking up.

You hesitated, glancing at the stacks. “I can’t choose. I love all of them the same,” you said with a small shrug.

She hummed again, quieter this time, almost nonverbal. You noticed how her usual sharp edges softened in these moments—how comfortable she seemed.

“How’s your leg healing?” you asked gently, breaking the silence.

“All better now,” she said, her tone casual, though her eyes flicked to you with a faint glint of something warmer. “Thanks to you.”

You ducked your head, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

The quiet lingered, heavy with something unspoken. Sevika’s smile faded suddenly, her expression closing off.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, frowning.

“Nothing,” she muttered, standing abruptly. “I should get going.”

“But—” You stared, bewildered, as she left her tea untouched on the table and headed for the door.

“Thanks for the book,” she said over her shoulder, and before you could respond, the door clicked shut behind her.

For a moment, you just sat there, confused and a little hurt. The warmth she’d brought into the room seemed to vanish with her, leaving you alone again.

You're right! Let me add Sevika’s reflection after she leaves your apartment to round out the chapter:

---

As the door clicked shut behind her, Sevika paused in the dimly lit hallway, her back against the cold wall. Her chest felt tight, her thoughts swirling in a way she couldn’t control.

What the hell was she doing?

She’d gone to your place intending to keep things simple—a quick stop to grab a book, tease you a little, and leave. But then you’d smiled at her, the kind of smile that made her knees feel weak. The kind of smile that made her heart ache in ways she didn’t want to name.

She clenched her fists, trying to steady her breathing. You were just... you. Sweet, patient, and stubborn as hell when it came to her well-being. But you also had a way of looking at her—like she wasn’t just Silco’s enforcer, the muscle of the Undercity. Like you saw her as something more.

That terrified her.

“Pull it together,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head.

But the truth was, every time you smiled or laughed, she felt her carefully built walls start to crack. She didn’t know what to do with that—didn’t know how to handle the warmth you brought into her life.

And then there was the way you’d looked when she’d left. Disappointed. Hurt. It had gnawed at her the entire night as she lied in bed.

She raked a hand through her hair, glancing down at the book in her hand. She didn’t care about the damn book, not really. She cared about you.

Sevika’s jaw tightened. She had to make it up to you. She couldn’t keep running every time things got too close, couldn’t keep pretending she didn’t care.

The next day, she found herself at your apartment again—not to see you, but to do something she hoped would show you how much she appreciated you, even if she couldn’t say it out loud.

Building the bookshelf wasn’t about the books. It was about you. The way your face lit up when you talked about your favorite stories, the way you defended your messy stacks like they were treasures.

When she finished, she stepped back to admire her work. The bookshelf wasn’t perfect—she wasn’t a carpenter—but it was sturdy and solid, and it felt like a piece of her she was leaving behind.

As she closed your door softly behind her, Sevika let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

She still didn’t understand everything she felt when it came to you. But for the first time, she didn’t feel the urge to run. Instead, she hoped you’d see the bookshelf and understand what she couldn’t say.

---

When you got home that evening, though, the sight that greeted you stopped you in your tracks.

The pile of wood and nails in the corner of your living room was gone. In its place stood a perfectly built bookshelf, solid and sturdy. The books that had once been stacked precariously on your table were neatly arranged beside it, left for you to decide how to organize them.

You stared at it, your mouth falling open in disbelief. Running your fingers along the polished edges, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Sevika…” you murmured to yourself, shaking your head in quiet amazement.

Somehow, this simple act of kindness felt like the loudest declaration she could have made.

[reallife6anoufriev6boy6]

dylric angst fanfic - part two

includes necro, noncon, hints of prey/predator, etc.

notes: rapist murder with a side of library necro suicide please! (yes so what if i used zero hour pictures for the banner…)

edit: ((if my phone corrects my shit one more time im gonna smash it…its SUPPOSED TO BE ZERO HOUR SMH…))

right to the end, just like a friend

i tried to warn you somehow

you had your way, now you must pay

im glad that youre sorry now

the hours had passed by quicker then dylan and eric could comprehend.

dylan had spent the whole night, sobbing into erics shoulder while he sat there and held him. it was the sweetest thing hes ever done for him.

until now.

they were dressed and ready to go. everything they needed to do was done, they were in their spots, and now all they had to do was wait for the bombs to go off in the cafeteria.

dylan stared at the building while everything was starting to hit him. this was really gonna happen, he was really gonna do this.

he was going to do this with his best friend and prove to everyone that they were gods - they decided who lived and who died for their mistakes.

he thinks to himself though that they shouldve gone off at this point.

he looked across the lot to eric, seeing him looking down at his watch and shaking his head. he looks up and then back down, cursing to himself.

he makes a quick move to grab the rest of what needed out of his car and dylan does as well once he sees it.

he had no idea what they were gonna do now - their plan revolved around the bombs, but as long as his friend had some semblance of a plan then he was fine with that.

eric walks his way over across the lot to dylan “cmon, vee, lets just get this over with - that freakin’ crap isnt gonna go off.” he was obviously annoyed, but he was gonna make the most out of this.

dylan nodded “yeah - yeah, alright.” is all he answered with before they both turned to head in.

-

they took care of everyone outside with ease, then dealt with everyone inside. it was going a little smoother then they expected it to, but it still had its faults.

they were split up for awhile too before they finally came back together and recuperated, ready for their next step.

however, dylan hadnt noticed any of the boys they were *really* after. they had taken care of who they wanted to except for them.

if they had stayed home today for whatever reason or had somehow escaped then this was totally ruined.

it made dylan nervous and frustrated - it made eric absolutely pissed.

he wasnt gonna go down without those fuckers going down with them - he promised dylan that it would be the last thing he does.

they walk through one of the hallways, glass cracking beneath their boots and blood making the floor slippery.

“have you seen them yet?” eric asked, looking over to dylan. he wasnt sure exactly what they looked like or who they were - he had a very vague idea, but it was hard to get any information from dylan about it.

the blonde shook his head “no, i havent. theyve gotta be around here somewhere - i thought i saw their cars in the lot.” he had remembered seeing the cars parked outside, but he couldve just been seeing things.

they both could tell how each other were feeling. eric could tell that dylan was on edge and was frustrated that he might not get to see them be taken down before his own death while dylan could tell that eric was pissed they were being pussies and not showing themselves - so much for being tough guys, huh?

“its fine, ill find them. dont worry,” eric reassured him, but paused “i promised you that.” he hesitated to say it and it came out all embarrassed, but it made dylan smile.

“thanks, reb.” he replied as they turned the corner.

the brunette was about to say something else, but as they rounded that corner they were face to face with who they were looking for.

there was four of them there. four muscular white guys who were jocks on the schools sports teams. they looked all tough and proud, but now they were about to be nothing.

they were trying to open one of the exit doors and as if it was some miracle from the god they didnt believe in, the door was jammed. it wouldnt open no matter how hard they tried.

it made eric snicker - natural selection, bitch, is what he thought.

the brunette looks to the other, seeing the blank look on his face and his stiff posture. that alone told him all he needed to know.

he walks right up ahead, checking his gun as he did so to make sure it was loaded.

“hey, assholes!,” he called over to them “turn around, let me get a good look at you!”

they each turn their heads, confused, but the confusion quickly turns to horror as they try harder to open the door.

“cmon, man, you dont gotta shoot us,” one of them speaks up, but he fails to sound manly and his voice shook “we didnt do shit to you!” he spat while his friends tried to tell him to lay off.

erics eyes narrowed, glaring while his finger hovered over the trigger “are you that retarded? didnt do anything?,” he laughed, turning his head to look at dylan who was a little further back “vodka, did these fags do something? or are we just making it up?”

dylan shakes his head as if to say they werent making it up. he swallowed hard.

“yeah? name one fuckin’ thing!” the other answered with quickly. he clearly wasnt too smart to be taunting like this.

dylan doesnt want to name anything. he doesnt want to describe what happened just for these sick fucks. he doesnt want to think about it more then he already has.

he hoped eric understood and he did.

he turned to look back at the other boys “you know what you did.” he hissed, respecting dylans obvious discomfort.

none of the boys say anything for a moment until one of them whispers something to the other.

“oh - oh, yeah! *you* guys!,” he laughed “i didnt do shit to *you*, harris, but maybe to that freak over there!,” he continued laughing as he pointed towards dylan - even his friends who were hesitant before seemed to giggle along with him “it was all just a joke, ya know, we didnt mean anything! way to get overdramatic like a girl!”

he just wouldnt shut up and even his friends joined in, saying snide remarks and insults.

the two of them just stared, listening to all of it. let them run their mouths and ruin this for themselves, they figured.

“youre such a pussy, klebold! making your little boyfriend fight for you? seriously? man up, shoot me like a fuckin’ man!”

that was it for eric. he raised his gun and pressed his finger down on the trigger - all hell broke loose again.

it was a symphony of screaming, bullets, and the click of his gun. it was music to his ears.

dylan on the other hand was in complete shock - like an animal almost. it was surreal to watch the boys who assaulted him be murdered right in front of him, especially by his best friend.

he didnt ever entertain thoughts like this, but, god was it hot.

he couldnt even think of a better way to say it - it was just *hot.*

eric looked so focused, so set on making sure each of them had enough lead put into them to last them their trip to hell. the way his shirt and pants clung to him - the sweat dripping down his forehead and arms - it was all so attractive.

he lets off the last couple of bullets, the hallway turning eerily quiet and peaceful besides the distant shrill of the fire alarm and police outside. they both stare at the mess of blood and bodies.

eric doesnt even realize when dylan finally walks up next to him, abruptly grabbing him by his face with both hands and placing his lips to his.

his eyes widened, completely caught off guard. he wasnt expecting anything like that at all - maybe just some shared words about how good it felt to do that, but not a kiss.

eric knew better, but it gave him a sick sense of power.

he just murdered his best friends rapists for him - it was almost like he owed him now.

he could be the hero and kill those guys, but that doesnt make him any better. he was a teenage boy with an obsession for power.

dylan pulled away less then a second later, clearly embarrassed “sorry, sorry,” it comes out quickly, ready to explain himself “you just - looked really good,” it comes out a little softer then he meant it to. theres a soft layer of blush that eric is just barely able to make out on his face “thank you, eric.”

they werent more then friends. thats what they thought, but there was always something - something between the two of them that extended far past the label of friendship. an underlying need.

even the events from the previous night theyd chalk up to close friendship, but it was more then that.

eric doesnt reply, but instead grabs the front of dylans shirt and pulls him back down, kissing him again.

the blonde is surprised, but he quickly reciprocates.

it was ironic how intimate this seemed considering their situation, but this was their last chance to ever do something like this. no one was here to judge them - it was just them and the end of their world.

they stay there like that without a care and its so oddly sweet, but erics own needs get the best of him.

he lets go of his friends shirt, but instead puts his hands on his hips - his nails dig in just the smallest bit.

however, dylan isnt a fan. it makes him a little uncomfortable - he was more then grateful for what he just did for him, but he wasnt trying to be like *that*.

he pulled away just a moment later, wiping away some of his spit with the back of his gloved hand.

the brunette is less then happy to have him pull away, but he doesnt say anything about it. he knew better - thats what he told himself.

“i think we should go.” the other broke their silence. the end was inevitable and they both knew it. they didnt want to say it outright, but they already knew what needed to be done.

“yeah,” eric answered back “im done with this crap anyway. we gave them what they were asking for - lets go.”

-

its a quiet walk down to the library aside from the occasional comment with laughter and the random firing of their guns.

they had did it - they accomplished the only goal they set out for themselves. they did what they had to do.

now it would be over - all the chaos and terror would come to an end and they would finally be set free from this hell they were born into.

now they were in the library, sitting on the floor together. they ran their plans over hundreds of times, but they never really seemed to go over this part.

they were both checking over their guns, making sure they were set and ready.

“we’re doing it together, right?” eric asked, earning a nod from dylan “yeah. should be easiest that way.”

the discussion of that stops there. there wasnt really much to be said. they were going to die no matter how they did it.

dylan goes to place the end of his gun to the roof of his mouth, but he paused, turning to his friend.

“thank you - you know, for everything,” the other turns his head as he speaks “you were a great friend, reb.” theres something so surreal about the way he says it - they never put any thought into what their last words would be, so for it to be something so genuine was odd.

the brunette smiled “yeah, you too, vee,” its so weird to hear anything nice come out of his mouth, but it happens anyway “guess we’ll see each other in hell, huh?” he laughed and so does the other. they could barely ever take themselves seriously.

“yeah, man. ill see you there.” he replied back through his laughing. it sounded like they were just joking around - like they hadnt just murdered people and were about to finish themselves.

the laughter dies down though, being their final sign to get things moving along.

dylan placed the gun where it needed to be, glancing over to eric as if to let him know he should do it too, which he does.

neither of them make a move - at least until the blonde turns his head away, finger over the trigger. his friend followed his actions, keeping a finger over the trigger as well.

only a moment later did eric hear the bang from the gun, followed by the thud of his friends body falling.

this was where he was supposed to pull the trigger - end whatever suffering he was supposedly going through, but something makes him hesitate.

he knows what hes supposed to do - he knows he shouldn’t look over and should just get this over with, but he cant help it when he pulls the gun away and looks over to dylan.

it was just about as graphic as he wouldve expected. his head was blown open and the blood was already making a mess on the floor - he noticed how some of the splatter even got on his arm.

it was definitely weird to see his friend that way, but he couldn’t seem to piece together any other emotions. it was just *weird.*

he looks away and puts the gun back to where it belongs. he had to get this over with and just be done with it - there was no other way out of it. however, again, something makes him hesitate.

thats until he hears what sounds like gagging and choking.

he moves the gun away again and looks back over, seeing now that dylan was choking on his own blood while his body seemed to twitch and convulse.

it was a bad shot - a terrible shot even. he shouldve aimed better, but eric couldnt look away.

he just stared and watched.

it was wrong - so, so wrong about what he thought of next. he still owed him - he owed him for killing those guys who had hurt him. he didnt want to be on the same level as those guys, but he was far past that now that hes killed their classmates and committed crimes of his own.

he quietly set his gun down on the floor, getting up and sitting right in between his thighs.

was he seriously going to do this? was he really going to be as sick and disgusting as those guys - if not worse? yes, he was.

he swallowed hard, reaching a hand up to unzip his pants and pull them down. hes greeted with pale, scarred skin and thin thighs. it was a little off putting - he wasnt a big fan of the scars, but he carried on anyway.

he knew he had to make this as quick as possible considering there probably wouldnt be a lot of time before the police arrived in the building. of course, he didnt know that it would take them as long as it really did, but he just had to make the assumption.

he quickly pulled down his boxers and barely gives himself a chance to look at him before he was already taking care of his own. he unzipped his pants and pulled his boxers down just enough to take his cock out.

it was kind of disgusting how hard he already was. who knew all this murder and gore would get him so worked up.

eric readjusted their position, fixing the position of dylans legs and body, which was hard to do because of all the involuntary movement.

any thoughts of morality were thrown out the window at this point - there was no time for him to think about how wrong this was. he just had to do it. it was owed to him.

he lines up with the other, forcing himself in with a hiss. it was a tight fit - he wasnt welcomed here and he never would be. the groan it pulled out from dylan only proved that further.

he pulls back out, pushing back in and trying to get a pace started. its slow and rather awkward - he had never had sex with anyone before so he really only knew how to do this because of porn - and even that wasnt a great reference material when dylan didnt have a cunt like the girls he watched.

the brunette tries to make it work though, biting down on his lip as he forced himself in as far as he could go.

he would be lying if he said it didnt feel good. it felt *amazing.* maybe the blonde really did feel that good or maybe the situation made it better. he had no idea and he would never know.

he holds onto his hips for more leverage, trying to build up a better, quicker pace. it works somewhat - his own precum starting to make the slide bearable and easy.

he pulled another noise from the boy on the floor once he started to go faster, listening to his continued gagging and groaning. it was like he was aware, but just not quite.

it didnt matter though, he was gonna finish one way or another.

shame starts to creep its way in, but he has to shove it down. he feels ashamed that hes doing this to his best friend whos about half dead on the floor - not to mention he was another guy. his first time shouldve been with some pretty girl he met, not with a guy he considered his best friend who was bleeding out onto the floor.

at the same time though theres something about that specific fact. something so primal about taking what was his - not having a care about what anyone would think of him for doing this. he was an animal, a predator taking what he needed from his prey - what he was owed and deserved.

the thought of that alone just about sends him over the edge - thrusting in particularly hard with a moan of his own. he does it again, followed by one more until hes finally spilling inside of him.

the twitch of dylans body and the gagging seems to stop as he did so.

he stays inside of him, not bothering to pull out. his whole body felt fuzzy and there was a sort of hazy feeling that hung over him. it was euphoric, really.

he has to pull out though against his own needs, looking over his work. he just about gets another erection when barely any of his cum leaks out.

he has to refrain himself though. he stuffs his own cock back into his boxers, fixing his pants and then turning his attention to his friend. he pulls up his pants and boxers too, fixing them and putting everything back into place.

eric wondered what the reports would say about this. what the autopsy report would say about the cum left inside of his friend and on his own dick - maybe theyd say he had raped him in death which wouldnt be wrong, or maybe theyd think it happened before - that dylan was some kind of faggot who willingly took it up the ass.

either way, it didnt matter.

eric wouldnt be around to see it and neither would dylan.

[mlqueen89]

Hi! Can I request Thanksgiving with Marc Spector? Pls make it smutty

UHM. YES, ANON. YES. Sorry it took me so long, but here you gooooo! ♡

pairing: marc spector x f!reader (moon knight)   

rating: 18+ (minors dni)   

warnings/triggers: smut, fingers in “pie”, oral (m & f receiving), (unprotected) p in v sex, slight dom behaviour, dirty talk, cream pie.

word count:  5,231

summary: november prompt request. marc has a kink for finger sucking which might definitely make you late for thanksgiving dinner with your family. 

A/N:  wanted to get this one out before American Thanksgiving. here you go guuuuys, enjoy smutty marc—thanks anon for requesting this one! p.s.: pleeeeeease read this at the dinner table or in front of your family and think about smutty marc. lemme know how that goes. also sorry, cause i don’t think i could write anything short to save my own damn life.

❥ masterlist ♡ requests ♡ taglist ❥ 

“Pumpkin or apple?” You peered at the beautiful pies lined up behind the glass at the bakery, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you balanced your phone between your cheek and shoulder. 

“What?” Marc’s response crackled through the phone, and you could hear the faint sounds of a crowded grocery store in the background. Marc had offered to brave the Thanksgiving rush crowd that morning, leaving you at your shared apartment, apron tied around your waist, staring at a variety of ingredients and a mommy blogger’s recipe.

It had taken you three reads of the entire recipe, flour already spilled on the front of your old band tee, before you decided that there was a perfectly good bakery a fifteen-minute walk from here. Better to play it safe.

“Pumpkin or apple.” 

“You said you’d bake it, didn’t you?” His voice took on a cautious edge, the kind he reserved for tense negotiations and life-or-death situations.

You laughed, dry, incredulous, catching the curious glance of the teenager behind the counter. “Marc, baby,” you drawled, straightening and pacing toward the large plate glass window, “do you remember what happened the last time I tried to bake a pie?” 

“Are you talking about the fire or Steven being sick for a week?” 

“Exactly,” you replied, ignoring that the question was an either or situation. His response was enough to prove your point. 

“So…”

“So, I’m going to play it safe this time...” You studied your freshly manicured nails, the deep merlot polish shining in the mid-November sun streaming in through the bakery’s front window. “I’ll just take it out of the box, put it in a pie plate and—”

“Bob’s your uncle,” Marc finished and you could almost hear the smile in his tone. It still made your stomach do that stupid little flip it did, the same one you’d felt on your first date with him.

“Glad we’re on the same page,” you replied, the same smile in your voice as you nodded at the teenager to box up the pumpkin pie.

“Look, I’m cutting it close,” Marc said, his voice taking on that familiar clipped efficiency that you found strangely sexy. “I still have to grab the bread rolls and that canned cranberry sauce your uncle likes.”

You suppressed a gag. “How is it possible that someone willingly eats canned cranberry sauce?”

“Maybe it’s, I dunno—nostalgic?” He offered lightly.

“Or a very loud cry for help,” you muttered, tucking the boxed pie under your arm as you made your way to the register. “Anyway, just don’t be late. You know how my mom gets.”

“Oh, I remember,” Marc replied dryly, and you could practically hear him bracing for what was to come later that evening, sitting in a tiny split-level your parents refused to sell, all 19 of your family members crammed inside.

“Just—this is the first time you’re meeting my family, and it’s Thanksgiving—” you began, trying your best to underpin your nervous energy. You were sure Marc had clocked it from the moment you woke up last week with the odd stomachache and nauseated feeling that came only with the burgeoning terror of yet another family gathering.

“Hard to forget,” Marc sighed. You could hear the shuffle of activity on his end of the line, probably weaving between aisles and other patrons with the precise, purposeful strides that were very typical of Marc. “You’ve only reminded me six times this week.”

“I know it’s a bit—” you waved your hand even though you knew Marc couldn’t see it, trying to conjure the words clouding your mind, “much. It’s just because this year can’t be like last year.”

Even though you had been with Marc officially since before last Thanksgiving, this was the first time your family was meeting him.

Last year’s planned gathering had been efficiently derailed by what your family simply referred to as “The Great Turkey Incident,” which in reality was not simply just a series of near—catastrophes involving a broken oven, a kitchen fire, food poisoning and your sister swearing off hosting any family gathering for all of eternity. Your mother still choked up when you mentioned it, your father subsequently had to be medicated for high blood pressure. You assumed the latter had nothing to do with “TGTI,” but your dad swore up and down it did, in his thickest Bostonian accent, which only surfaced in moments of high stress or anger.

This year, your mother announced in August, would be better. Less chaotic. Normal or at least in the neighbourhood of normal. It remained to be seen, however, if that was at all possible. Property value in the Normal Neighbourhood had skyrocketed in the last year or so. 

On one hand, Marc’s specialties were vast, especially when it came to making and keeping you extremely north of happy. Being normal, through no fault of his own, just wasn’t exactly one of those specialties.

As you stepped out of the bakery, into the November chill, you stopped, gathering yourself. “You’ve got this,” you amended softly, a bit for yourself and some for Marc too.

“What? Charming your entire family or surviving the day without anyone finding out about my… extracurricular activities?”

 “Both,” you teased, your smile pulling up the corners of your lips until your cheeks hurt. How you’d gone so many years of your life without loving this man was beyond you.

“Great.” Marc’s response was quick, the hint of dry humour rolling through the phone, “piece of cake.”

“Pie. Piece of pie,” you shot back, “pumpkin, specifically.”

You smiled despite yourself, pulling your coat tighter as a chilly November breeze swept down the street. “It’s just… important to me, Marc. They’ve been waiting to meet you for ages, and after everything that happened last year…”

“I get it,” he said, his voice softer now. “But you don’t have to worry. I’ve got this.” 

You stopped on the corner, letting his reassurance settle over you. Despite his gruff exterior and his tendency to run headfirst into danger, Marc Spector had a way of grounding you when you needed it most. 

“See you soon, babe,” Marc sighed, and though his words were casual, there was something calming in the way he spoke, the cadence of his voice a soothing sound.

“Oh! Don’t forget the flowers!” You reminded him, just before he could hang up, as you dashed across the street toward your car, a death grip on the pie box.

There was a long pause on the other end, so long that you pulled the phone away from your face to see if he’d accidentally hung up. “Flowers?”

“Just—trust me. It’ll win my mom over.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said, a note of reluctant determination in his voice.

“Thanks, baby,” you smiled, making a kissing sound before you hung up the phone and carefully deposited the pie into the passenger seat and belted it in like precious cargo.

Tucking your phone away into a pocket, you shifted into the driver’s seat, hands on the wheel for a moment as you looked at the bustling street and sidewalk outside. This Thanksgiving was bound to be memorable—whether for all the right reasons or for another chapter of family chaos, you weren’t entirely sure. But if anyone could handle it, it was Marc Spector.

You hustled up the stairs to your second floor apartment, precious pie cargo gripped tightly in your hands as you pressed against the stubborn front door.

Marc had texted you about five minutes ago complaining about being at the back of some absurdly long lineup at the cashes, so you figured you had about 30 minutes to shower, get dressed and pull off the great pie lie.

Depositing the pie on the kitchen island, you hurried to the bathroom, stripping layers of clothing in a trail on your way. The hot spray of the water a welcome calm before the storm that would Thanksgiving with your family. Even when there weren’t disasters to speak of, there were differing opinions on everything ranging from politics to sports, celebrity dating drama to conspiracy theories. It was enough to drive even the most sane person, absolutely, stark—raving mad. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t just north of wary introducing Marc into this mix that was already a powder keg.

Maybe this year, you’d pitch that next year, your family could celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving instead: early October, no arguments over politics, singing Kumbaya and sharing maple flavoured desserts while saying “sorry” a lot. That was how Canadians did it, right?

You were in the middle of thinking maple dappled, northern thoughts under the warm cascade of water when you heard the telling sound of the sticky front door of your apartment opening, followed by the sound of Marc’s voice, calling your name.

“Shower!” You called, though you were sure that Marc would be able to follow the trail of clothing even if you hadn’t answered

By the time you’d wrapped up the shower and stepped out from the steamed room, you found Marc in the kitchen, his eyes peering into the pie box curiously, the lid lifted carefully. “I think you’re going to owe me for enabling this lie,” his eyes were still on the pie box as you padded into the kitchen in your towel. Replacing the lid daintily, he handled the dessert like it was ticking, wired with red and blue leads and affixed with a countdown clock before his eyes flicked up to you. You didn’t miss the way he assessed your clothing situation, or lack thereof.

It was one of the many things you loved about this man, he made no show of hiding that he was always one opportune moment away from fucking you.

“First of all,” you started, folding your arms across your chest, “it’s not a complete lie: it was baked by someone, just not me. So, more like pie-adjacent authenticity. If my mom buys it, then I think I owe you—a thank you.”

Marc raised an eyebrow, “a thank you, huh? That’s all I get for being complicit in a fib to save you from culinary embarrassment?”

“Depends,” you smirked, stepping closer to peak into the top of one of the paper bags on the counter, “did you pick up the flowers?”

Marc smirked, tipping his head to a small bouquet of seasonal blooms sitting on the counter. “I think you’re just trying to distract me from the conversation—we were talking about how much you owe me.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep a straight face as Marc stepped in closer, narrowing the space between you. “Fine. Thank you, Marc. You’re my Thanksgiving hero.” You feigned a swoon.

“Damn right, I am,” his voice dropped an octave, his hand finding your toweled waist, pulling you across what little distance remained between you. He dipped his head to your neck and you moved to allow him access, your body responding as if moving with him as he explored your body came as naturally as breathing, as easy as the path of orbit, the innate pull of gravity.

You eased into the touch of his lips, losing yourself in the feeling of him against your skin, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that you could feel the heat coiling low, between your legs, the wetness that had nothing to do with your shower growing.

“Marc…” you huffed as his hand left your waist and tangled in your damp hair at the nape of your neck, his other hand finding the top of the towel tucked against your body. “Careful…” you teased, but you were breathless as the words came out, no real urgency or command in them, “we still have to leave on time and you’re not exactly dressed for a first-time dinner with my family.”

“Plenty of time,” he murmured against your skin, his fingers hooked at the top of your towel, a single, gentle tug the only thing between you and the hungry man who stood before you, waiting to devour you completely.

If you didn’t have anywhere to be, you’d have shed the towel, found his belt and been on your knees in front of him, your mouth aching to be around his thick cock. But you did have somewhere to be and around the haze of the way Marc set your skin on fire under his touch, just on the edge of a losing battle between desire and responsibility, you knew you couldn’t. You’d attend dinner, stay an appropriate amount of time and then make sure to congratulate him for surviving your family on the drive home down a darkened stretch of backroad.

“You’re making this really hard for me….” you breathed out in a cross between a huff and a groan, pressing your hands flat against his chest and pushing without much effort, almost as if you wanted to say you’d put up a fight and had lost. There was always Christmas dinner, that was right around the corner, right?

“I was about to say the same thing.” His voice was a little more than a growl, a rumble in his chest you could feel beneath your palms, still flattened on his chest.

“Marc, baby,” you whispered, a small yelp interrupting your next words as he nipped at your jaw just below your ear, he was good. Too good. Marc had a way of making you forget where you were, of making everything around you melt away until it was just  you and him, him and you, locked in perpetuity, together. “This isn’t going to get you out of wearing a tie….”

Marc groaned, his head falling to your bare shoulder and you turned to press your nose to his scalp, his soft, dark curls smelling of sandalwood and something distinctly him. “It was worth a shot….” he muttered after a moment before he kissed your collarbone and swiftly turned you around, giving you a slight, gently nudge toward the back bedroom. “Now go get dressed before I change my mind about taking that towel off.”

You sighed, pressing your knees together for a moment before you looked back at him over your shoulder, his hand pressed against the countertop for support, the bulge in his jeans clearly visible from where you stood. “Marc?”

His response was little more than a strained hum of acknowledgement, his eyes drawing up to you.

“Wear the tie Steven likes,” you smiled, partly knowing the playful tease would wedge somewhere under his skin, a small little dig, “it brings out your broody eyes. It’ll give you more of the boy-next-door look and less of the guy your mom warns you about.”

You carefully opened the lid of the pink pie box, using a knife to tactfully slice the tape holding it closed.

When you made it to the back bedroom, still in your towel, you thought briefly about touching yourself, loudly enough to entice Marc to finish what he started. It took you half a minute to decide against it, instead picking out Marc’s favourite pleated skirt, the one that was just barely appropriate for a family dinner. The one he’d fucked you in over the back of your couch after he brought you home from your third date together at that cute mini putt place downtown.

If you couldn’t fuck him now you’d make him sweat through the dinner, make him think about all the ways he wanted to fuck you when you got home.

You were only slightly disappointed that Marc was in the shower when you headed back into the kitchen. Quickly though, the disappointment faded to dread when you realized that you still had to plate the Lie Pie, the Pumpkin Pretense.

You were trying to lift the pie out of the box, when you felt hands on your waist, “you’re not playing fair,” Marc’s voice was next to your ear, his breath warm against your neck sending a shiver down your spine, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Jesus, Marc!” You jumped, your hand slipping off one side of the pie, your index finger and thumb dipping into the custard pumpkin filling and pieces of the perfect crust crumbling into the top of the pie. You froze and you could feel Marc stiffen at your back.

Marc broke the silence first. “It looks more… uh—realistically baked by you?” He rubbed the back of his neck and you huffed, carefully setting the pie back down in the box. You felt Marc leave your back and watched from the corner of your eye as he shuffled over to the cutlery drawer. “It’s okay—it’s fine. We’ll just, smooth it down and crumble some of the other edges and—”

You noticed that Marc was shirtless, his dark hair damp from the shower, a white towel tied around his waist. Suddenly, you felt like the skirt wasn’t diabolical enough. Your man naturally exuded “fuck me” vibes. You’d absolutely dine on this image of him through dinner. In fact, at this rate, your eyes raking over the hard lines of muscle banding his shoulders and arms, the deep cut of his abs trailing below the line of the towel, you’d be the one opting to skip Thanksgiving dinner and beg him to undo you.

When he moved back behind you, a butter knife in hand to remedy the situation, you could feel the outline of his cock, fitting just between your ass cheeks through the thin materials of the skirt and the towel. You swallowed thickly.

The thought made you smirk, Marc always wanted you and that thought alone drove you crazy with want. Still, you tried to remember that this was supposed to be the year that your family met him, this was supposed to be the big leap in your relationship with him.

“Okay, so just—,” you pointed to the spot on the pie where you could see the divots from your fingers. Marc moved the knife over to the spot you’d pointed to, carefully trying to figure out how he could make it look like a more natural flaw. “Yeah, I mean, I’d just kind of—”

Without thinking, you stuck your thumb in your mouth, carefully sucking off the custard as you pointed to the offending dents in the pie with your other hand. You noticed when the knife in Marc’s grip faltered and his knuckles whitened against the handle. You were sticking your index finger between your lips when you turned to look at him and froze, his face so close to yours, but his eyes were on your mouth and the finger currently trapped between your lips. You could hear his breathing hitch for a fraction of a second, his eyes darkening as his own tongue moved to whet his lips. Behind you, you could feel the length of him twitch against your body and it was enough to make the coiling heat pulse low, between your legs.

In a fraction of a second, he’d abandoned the knife on the counter with a clatter, grasping your wrist as he pulled your finger from your mouth and stuck it in his up to your second knuckle. Slowly, he pulled it from his mouth, careful to relish the taste of the sweet dessert on you.

“You had to go and do that, didn’t you?” He huffed lowly as your finger left his mouth, clean, the sound almost a rumble in his chest and you leaned your head back against him. You definitely weren’t going to make it in time for dinner, but you’d known that when you slipped into the skirt. You were playing a dangerous game around Marc and he’d broken first.

“Marc…” you tried to sound exasperated, but his name came out as a whine as his rough hand slid up your thigh and dipped under the hem of your skirt. You could feel his hard cock against your ass through his towel as he pressed himself against you tightly. Instinctively, you pushed back and ground yourself against him and he groaned in response, his arm banding around your waist and anchoring you to him.

Reaching behind yourself, you wriggled to reach his length, but he moved just out of your reach, your fingers just brushing the rigid outline of him beneath the towel.

“Careful, gorgeous,” he murmured in your ear, a low warning, “not too fast. I’ve been wanting you all fucking day—”

Your head swam, the thought of him inside of you, pumping, pulsing, stretching you, bottoming out on repeat blurred all else. His fingers reached for the line of your panties under your skirt, and paused when they found none. You could feel his smirk against your neck as he alternated between kissing and nipping.

“Looking for something?” You hummed, teasing. Pleated skirt and no panties—you’d been asking for it, waiting for him to discover it. Though, to be fair, you hadn’t expected he’d find out this soon, not while you were still at home, at least. In testing his resolve, you’d set a trap for yourself, overestimating your ability to keep yourself from him.

Marc didn’t pause for long, his fingers following the lines of your already slick pussy until he found your swollen clit and began to massage in long, generous strokes. You sighed, humming as you melted into his touch.

“Can’t decide if you’re a bad girl or a good one….” Marc’s voice was low, his hips rutting against you as if he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t keep from the pleasure he felt as his shaft rubbed against the towel that rubbed against you. You responded under his touch in kind before the sound of a grunt that escaped him had you turning in his arms to face him.

“I can decide for you,” you murmured, low, your tone just on the edge of sing-song, husky with want. You just wanted him inside of you, any way you could get him. You began to sink to your knees in front him, your fingers hooked on the top of his towel. It came away easily, the cotton pooling at his feet, his cock springing out, erect.

Coyly, from your knees, you looked up at him through your lashes as he looked down on you, his pupils blown wide. You kept direct eye contact as you ran your tongue, wide and flat on the underside of him, tracing the path of the pronounced vein from base to ridged tip, slowly.

The deep moan that you pulled from his lips was enough to undo you, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft as you slowly guided the length of him inside your mouth.

“Fuck, baby. I—I just—if you,” his words were choppy, interspersed with muttered curses, grunts and groans as your tongue made careful paintings on the underside of his pulsing cock, the taste of precum filling your mouth with each pass. “I’m going to—fuck, baby—”

Marc pulled you up from your knees before he dropped to his, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before he set in on your wet center.

Holding yourself against the counter behind you, you arched your back, biting your lip against the moan that sounded more like a plea for more. As you reached for an edge of counter to grip, the tips of your fingers nudged the abandoned pie box. “Marc—fuck, fuck, fuck—” You pressed yourself up on the tips of the toes on the one leg that was still planted on the ground, your toes on the leg over Marc’s shoulder curling until your foot threatened to cramp.

“You said boy-next-door,” Marc huffed out a small laugh, the edges of his voice tinged with need as he lightly kissed your throbbing clit. He knew exactly how to drive you to the edge of madness and hold you there until you begged him to throw you over. “Is that what you want me to be right now?”

“F—oh god, fuck the boy next door,” your words were without heat, your tongue heavy, your mind a swirl of fog; you were malleable in his hands, you’d do anything he asked if he just said the words.

“Oh, is that what you want? I can get Steven out here if you—” Marc teased, stopping the perfect alternation of tongue and nose, thumb and light, maddening suction with his lips against your pulsating center. Before he could finish, you ground your hips into his face, cutting off his next words as you pressed your pussy against his mouth, encouraging him to continue with a moan as he licked a stripe between your folds carefully. Marc was nothing if not tactical, precise.

“Marc,” his name came out strained as you braced yourself against the counter at your back, your leg hooked over his shoulder as his fingers dug into your ass, pinning you in place, “please…”

You could feel yourself ascending, reaching the peak, your hips gyrating against each stroke of his tongue as he ate you out.

“Say my name, baby...” he murmured, his finger slipping into your wet cunt, his chin and mouth slick with you as he looked up at you from under dark lashes, his deep brown eyes blown wide. His gaze held yours, your chest heaving with each deep stroke of his thick finger, before he added another and you gasped, stretching around them. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips before he dipped to pepper light, noisy kisses on your clit.

“Marc—” you barely formed his name, your hand leaving the counter to grab a handful of his beautiful hair. “Please, I need you, now, right now—holy fuck—.”

Marc hardly ever lost control, hardly ever cracked, but when he had you, naked and begging for him… you felt powerful, like you held kryptonite, the kind that would bring Marc to his knees, quite literally.

Marc stood, holding you steady as your leg slipped off his shoulder and you lost your balance. Grabbing a nearby stool, he lifted you swiftly onto the edge of it, wedging himself between your open legs, the tip of his weeping cock nudging your slick opening. He held himself there for a moment, his hands on your hips, steadying you, his eyes holding yours as you wriggled, chest heaving, on the verge of begging for him to fill you.

“Say it again,” Marc’s eyes, dark with lust, held yours and you complied.

“Fuck. Me.” You breathed the words, low and clear, his thumb rubbing through your folds rhythmically, “please.”

Marc didn’t need to be told twice, his hips thrusting up into you, his length filling you as you gasped. Each thrust pulled him out nearly all the way, the long strokes, paired with the pressure of his pubic bone send you cascading over the edge. Marc wasn’t far behind, his pulsing cock emptying inside of you as you squeezed around him and you both breathed out the sounds of release.

“Well—” you sighed, content as you carefully balanced on the edge of the stool, your breathing evening out as Marc stood before you naked, still erect. “I think we’re definitely going to be late now.”

“Fashionably late?” Marc shrugged, bending to gather the forgotten towel off the floor. As he straightened, he stepped up to the counter, reaching across to grab the bouquet of flowers. “At least we have these and the—” Marc’s hand swept across the counter, misjudging the distance between him and the pie box.

The low thud of the pink box, pie still inside, hitting the tiled floor in the kitchen quickly wiped away the post-sex haze and you looked up at Marc, his eyes shifting to the floor and back to you, apologetically.

You shifted your weight as you and Marc stood on your parents’ porch, catching your breath after rushing from the car. Marc adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, still looking annoyingly put together despite the… delay. A delay that lead you to be a whole two hours late, between that and the pie clean up.

Meanwhile, you were still hoping no one would notice the hastily fixed flyaways in your hair or the slight flush on both your faces. You had left the skirt at home, put on some panties and changed into a more family appropriate green dress.

“You ready?” you asked, glancing at him, the glow of the yellowed porch light catching the angles on his face. “Remember, if my cousin Alex asks you about anything to do with his Art History classes, it’s okay to let Steven take the wheel for a bit…”

Marc smirked, his eyes raking over you appreciatively in a way that always made you feel loved. “More than ready. But next time, sweetheart, maybe we shouldn’t start something when there’s a ticking clock involved.”

You gave him a pointed look, though your lips twitched with amusement. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”

“You were wearing that skirt. I think you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into,” he teased, leaning in for a quick peck, “it’s not like you tried to stop me.”

Before you could retort, the door swung open.

“Finally!” your mom exclaimed, throwing her arms wide. “I thought I was going to have to start without you.” Her eyes lit up as she took Marc in. “And this must be Marc.”

Marc straightened, offering his hand with a charming smile. Oh good, he was trying the Steven approach first before laying into the smolder. “It’s great to finally meet you, Mrs—”

“Oh, none of that Mrs. nonsense,” your mom blustered, swatting his hand away to pull him into a hug instead. Marc stiffened for a beat before relaxing into it, casting you a slightly wide-eyed look over her shoulder.

Your mom pulled back, beaming. “I’ve heard so much about you. Now, come in, come in! Dinner’s almost ready, and everyone’s starving. Where’s that pie you were bringing?”

You froze for half a second before slipping seamlessly into a casual smile. “The pie?”

“Yes, the pie,” your mom said, hands on her hips. “Pumpkin, wasn’t it? You said you’d bring it. You texted me about it this afternoon—”

Marc opened his mouth to speak, but you jumped in, shooting him a sly grin. “Oh, uh—there was a pie shaped accident… a tragic end, really. I was really proud of the way it turned out too.”

“Tragic end?” your mom repeated, eyebrows arching.

Marc cleared his throat, stepping in smoothly to fill the gap. “Completely my fault, actually. I wasn’t paying attention, and it ended up on the floor. I promise to make it up to you—I’ve got a knack for desserts. Next time, I’ll bake something myself.”

Your mom looked between the two of you, her lips twitching as though she didn’t quite buy the story but wasn’t going to press. “Well, accidents happen,” she said, waving it off. “But next time, you’re on pie duty, Marc.”

Marc smiled, his charm dialed up to full. “It’s a deal.”

As your mom led the way to the dining room, you leaned into Marc, whispering, “Nice save.”

“You owe me,” Marc smirked down at you, his hand brushing the small of your back.

“Pretty sure you’re the one who owes me, pie destroyer.”

His low chuckle followed you both into the warm chaos of Thanksgiving dinner.

Tags: @silvernight-m

A/N: i make all the banners and dividers myself. if you want to be tagged - hmu here

[bigball-thefrog]

Hello, just wanted to say that i enjoyed your last two fics, they’re pretty cool! Could you maybe do another Law fic? Perhaps maybe the reader was also taken in by the donxitoute (I fs spelt that wrong)family at a young age just like Law was when he was younger. And like obviously Law and the reader grew up together with the donxitoute family, like they became close and eventually developed crushes on one another. But Corazón wasn’t able to take the reader on time because Doflamanigo never kept his eyes away from her because she had this really strong devil fruit. Then when years go by obviously Law and the Reader are older but she’s still in the family and became an executive. Obviously she doesn’t stand what Doffy does and wants to betray him just like Viola but she doesn’t have an opening due to how valuable she is to him. And Doflamingo always has her by his side. Maybe when Law teams up with the strawhats, he mentions her and how he needs to help her and get out of there. This would probably take place a bit in the end of Punk Hazard and through Dressrosa. (Also it would be cool if the reader and Viola were close friends). You can turn this into a series because i think that would be cool.

Hello hello hello!!! Thank you for the request sorry it took me so long to reply to you. As I said in a different post, I had started my exams, and I am finished now so I'm catching up on my requests. Sorry for being late and I hope it is to your liking

Warnings/Tags:

Law X Fem!Reader

Dressrosa and end of Punk Hazzard spoilers

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Narrator POV

Like the other kids, you were orphaned and left to die. You came across the Donquixote family, and despite being thrown away (literally) by Corazon, you were stubborn and kept coming back. Then one day Doflamingo discovered your Devilfruit ability (you decide what it is) and thought of how useful it would be, and soon you were a valued member of the family.

Eventually Law came along and when he was eventually accepted into the family, you were curious. He was always cold or angry and tried to keep to himself all the time, but you made sure that never happened. You'd always stick together, almost hunt him down at times, always speaking, always trying to get him to play when you weren't busy. He hated it, he hated you'd never leave him alone or shut up, no matter what you did he'd never lighten up or let you get close... But of course, you eventually did get close, really close actually, as tike went by on the Doflamingo pirates you both became close, inseparable even, you won were a team that fought side by side. But as of recently Law's disease was getting worse and he was slowly dying. You begged and begged Doflamingo to take him to a doctor but there was nothing he could do. You knew Law's time was getting short, that's why you became extra clingy. Wanting to spend as much time as you could together, but one day he just disappeared, with Corazon.. You were heartbroken that they suddenly disappeared, your best friend, and your first crush, gone.

Time went by and you did your best to forget about him. Then one night you stopped at a snowy island, for some reason Doflamingo never let you leave the ship. You wanted to complain but you knew better than question him, so you stayed put. Once you saw Doflamingo trapped the island with his strings you knew something was really wrong. When everyone came back, you ran up to Doflamingo to ask what had happened but something seemed wrong with him, like he was on the verge of snapping at anyone that got too close. So you decided to wait for him to calm down before asking. When he eventually did lighten up, which took much longer than you thought, he told you everything about what Law and Corazon did, and everything changed for you. You started to hate Doflamingo and grew colder towards him, and when he took over Dressrosa those feelings doubled down, but you knew that no matter how much you hated him now, there was no way to leave without dying...

One good that came from the takeover of Dressrosa was meeting Viola, you both quickly became close on your shared hatred for Doflamingo, so at least you had a close friend again.

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~Now~

You were called to speak with Doflamingo, he stood by an open window, seeming tense, "Doflamingo? You wanted to speak?" He turned to you, a small scowl on his face, "You've been under my direct command and my command only since you've joined, right?" He asked, you nodded. "And you'd never betray me... Right?" He asked, the threat clear in his tone, you froze for a second but nodded. "Good... Congratulations, you've now been promoted to one of my executives, you're taking Vergo's place" you looked at him shocked confused, "But what happened? Why am I replacing Vergo??" Doflamingo only scowled, it was a similar to the scowl he had when he killed Corazon. "Did something happen at Punk Hazzard?" "Yes" "Monette too?" He stayed silent this time which told you everything you needed to know, "Was it?..." "Law..." He said. Your heart raced at hearing that name again after all these years, you'd seem him in the newspapers once or twice, but you didn't know what he was like now, a part of you still missed him, but it wasn't time for that now. "Alright, I'll accept Vergo's place," You said. Doflamingo stood on the open windowsill, "Good. I'm going to he gone for a bit, you make sure nothing goes to shit while I'm out..." And he left. You knew that if Law was in Punk Hazzard that he'd probably come to Dressrosa soon, you weren't sure if you were mentally ready for that, but you knew that it didn't matter because you'd have to confront him soon, and you knew when he was here, you had an important choice to make...

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Law POV

I was currently in the kitchen of the All Sunny with the rest of Strawhats, telling them my plans for what was going to happen in Dressrosa. As I talked about the plan, but an idea popped in my head and I mumbled out the name of someone I hadn't thought about in years. "Who's that?" Luffy asked, "An... An old Friend." I muttered out, "They were someone I was close to when I was still in Doflamingos crew. They had a powerful Devilfruit ability that could help us save Dressrosa. But they're constantly under the watch of Doflamingo or one of the other executives.. But, I left her alone all those years ago, and it would kill me to leave her again... I need to save her..." I gripped the table as I thought about how I had to leave and couldn't take her with me, I left her, alone and in the clutches of that bastard Doflamingo. Luffy just flashed his signature smile, "Well if she's a friend of yours, she's a friend of mine. Well save her Tra-guy!" I scowled at the nickname, but a sense of relief washed over me and I looked towards the direction Dressrosa was, "Don't worry, I'll save you this time, and I'll never leave you again, my dear friend."

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Alright, this is the first of a few that I will be posting today so I'll be back real soon after I finish writing the next request, see you in probably a hour

Kelly🐸

[nickscodthoughtsblog]

Shot in the Dark (König/Nikto)

hey gang. I had a thought infest my brain and now im sharing it with you guys. something a little different to x Reader fics i've been writing, but hear me out on this one. König/Nikto. first time actually writing for Nikto but i took the time to understand his character. and yes i will write more of this so i hope you like it :)

There was a pretty wide assortment of people König worked with in KorTac. Hutch, Fender, Roze… On the field, he saw how each one of them fit their roles and excelled in them. Off the field, he saw them as friends. Some took longer to bond with, like getting Calisto to warm up to him, while others just gravitated towards him. He’ll always remember how quickly he bonded with Horangi. And, even if some of the others found it strange, he couldn’t help his habit of wanting to know the people he was trusting his six with better than just their skill sets.

There was, however, one person he never got the chance to exchange even one word with, and didn’t even know the name of. Not someone new, though. He would notice from time to time, how the man sat alone, away from everyone, his mask always worn and his eyes distant. The only person he’s seen talk to him was Krueger, and it never seemed like it was a long chat. The last time he asked his fellow Austrian about him, all he got was “Don’t worry about him” and a dismissive wave. Not his name, not his relation to Krueger, not even a hint of his nature. 

And he tried to leave it alone. On his pride, he tried. With Krueger out on deployment, he only noticed more and more how the man sat alone, in the same places at the same time, like he was waiting for the one person he had a chance to talk to. Miserable, König thought, to wait so long alone. He couldn’t help his feet carrying him over to the man in the mess hall, away from the group he normally ate with. 

Maybe his sister was right, when she kept saying he was too empathetic for his own good. 

As he came to stand at the table, the man looked up to him. “Krue-” He stopped upon seeing that the sniper hood König wore was significantly different from what the other austrian wore. “Wrong person.” He went back to staring at the room blankly. 

“Are you okay?” König asked softly. 

“Да” was the blunt reply. It bugged König, so he sat down opposite him. “...what are you doing?”

“You seemed lonely, Soldat. Without Krueger around, at least.”

A short silence, the man’s stare locked on his. He almost thought he was being ignored. “...we’re fine.” His tone sure, as though there wasn’t a chance he couldn’t be okay.

We? König rationalized it as referring to him and Krueger. “Either way, I don’t think we’ve met. My name’s-”

“König.” he cut him off. “Krueger pointed you out to us.” 

…maybe he wasn’t referring to both of them. “Uh, ja. Ja, that’s me.” He nodded. “He never told me your name.” He was only met with a slight nod. Okay, maybe being direct would help. “What’s your name?”

He seemed to hesitate, his gaze shifting away from König’s face for the first time since he sat down. “Krueger thinks he’s okay…” The soft, barely audible mutter made König’s eyebrow raise, just like the questions in his head. He didn’t voice them. “Nikto.”

“Nikto…” he tested the name on his tongue. “Good to meet you.” Those dull blue eyes were focused on him again. He didn’t return the sentiment at all. If he was shy, König could easily relate. But he had such laser focus on staring at him, not a care if it would be disturbing or off-putting. The Austrian had no idea where to even begin with talking to him. Just one, possibly sensitive topic. “...why do-” 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, cutting him off. He took it out, finding a text from Horangi. A challenge to see who could do more pull-ups. And Horangi being Horangi, there was a 10€ bet thrown down. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Ah, Tiger…” He returned his focus to Nikto. “Sorry. Horangi was just wanting to-” 

“Go on.” The Russian's voice didn’t hold any contempt. Just acceptance that he had other friends. 

König stood up, putting his phone back in his pocket. “Okay. Maybe we can…talk later?” he offered, not getting much of a response. “See you later, Nikto.” He walked away.

As he left, he heard his voice, a response that gave him a bit of hope for cheering him up.

“Да. Later, König.”

[weeping-statue]

I love your writing, you're literally my favorite writer on here!

If requests are open, can I request headcanons of Norton with a GN!reader who is introverted? Not shy or anything, but they just avoid people because they don't know what to say to anyone.

They don't go up to anyone to speak themselves, so they kind of stare at people (unintentionally) and hope that whoever they're looking at will come up to them.

They're kinda quiet at first, but once you get them talking, they'll never stop.

I was wondering if it can just be general headcanons of what a relationship would be like!

Please and thank you! Sorry if this is too much!

-🔮

I’m so sorry I took me this long to answer, I have a shit ton of asks and I’m trying to get through them<3

That’s very sweet of you tho, I’m happy that you enjoy my work <3

I’ve been editing it here and there but I just needed to post it out today

Norton and a Introvert!Reader

———————————————————————

You just don’t like people, and you don’t know what to say?

Well neither does he.

He thinks they’re rich snobs who’ll try to manipulate him and he just doesn’t think the conversation is even worth it depending on who it is.

He doesn’t speak a lot to begin with, so he doesn’t mind if you talk his ear off, just only when he’s in a good mood.

When he’s in a bad mood he’ll either want to be alone or find solace in your arms, but they’ll both have to be in silence. No more noise.

He enjoys that you’re an introvert because it gives him more of a reason to stay away from everyone.

Sometimes from across a room he can feel someone staring into his back and he’ll immediately know it’s you. He doesn’t find it creepy, since he stares off into space too.

The first time it happened though, he thought you had a problem with him. And asked you what your deal was.

Other people sometimes get creeped out at the blank stare you give but few are used to it.

Norton and you were sitting in the dining room talking, as he polished his magnets.

“I didn’t think kiting a literal wheel would make me want to cry. I don’t understand why I’m getting chased around by a fucking car part. This is just ludicrous.” You exclaimed, sitting across from him with your head in your hands.

Norton nodded, he too hated the three brothers, mainly because they creeped him out, and irritated him. “Annoying bastards is what they are.” He replied.

Fredrick had entered the room overhearing your.. unsavory words about the Will brothers and cleared his throat.

Norton looked him up and down, a scowl emerging on his face. “You’re interrupting our conversation. Get lost.”

Fredrick raised an eyebrow at his bluntness, “Such vulgar behavior. No wonder the only one who tolerates you is the other lowlife.”

Norton stood up immediately, giving you a gesture with his head to follow him. “Apparently it’s a crime to be an introvert.”

Fredrick scoffs as you follow him, not saying another word and letting the two leave.

Outside Norton was waiting for you with his hand out, gripping onto yours tightly. “He’s rich, and loud, he doesn’t know what he’s saying. We’re not lowlifes, we’re just fed up and tired.”

You squeeze his hand in reassurance, “I know.” Dragging him along towards your room smiling, you say, “Come on, I’ll finish telling you all about my match and then I’ll make us some snacks!”

———————————————————————

Lowkey I stare at people with a blank face for some reason until I realize what I’m doing and smile.

[idontplaytrack]

Anyone character you want x reader

Reader is having a rough time at home(which happens often but isn’t constant) and is struggling with a pile up of school work so they really don’t want to be home for thanksgiving break

(I need comfort please fluff)

(Reader can regress if you feel like that’s the vibe)

(I feel bleh and need fictional character love)

Everything I Wanted

Jos Cleary-Lopez x fem! reader

Warnings: age regression, messy home life, angst, fluff

As long as I'm here

no one can hurt you

You shoved as much as you could into your backpack and quickly left while your parents were busy in the kitchen. Busy arguing. Fighting the urge to give in to the tears, you stumbled out of the house before they could stop you. You briskly walked away your street then stopped at a light, feeling your phone in the pocket of your jeans. You looked both ways before you crossed the street, just like you knew to do. To be safe. Then, you stopped again, trying to remember where to go. Trying to remember how to get there. Jos had taught you how to get to her house, you just needed to calmly think and reach her before someone at home realises you were gone.

“After crossing the street, walk to the end and you’ll see the playground. Then, you’ll turn this way to your right.”

Or was it the left?

No, it was your right. Yeah, you were sure.

“Cross the street again, and walk to the end. You’ll see my house.”

You wiped your clammy hands on your jeans and pressed the doorbell. You waited for a little bit, then someone opened the door for you. “Can I come in?” You asked quietly. “Of course you can.” He quickly stepped aside to let you enter. Mumbling a quick thank-you, Jos’ voice was what you heard first when you walked in. She was helping her mom in the kitchen until she saw you. Then, she came up to you to greet you, before Rob could ask you anything. Luckily. “Hi, babe. You okay?”

The nervous look on your face returned, it was like she’d just asked you the toughest question you’ve ever heard. Like you were back on the streets several minutes ago trying to figure out how to get to her house.

“No…?” You managed.

Jos quickly excused herself from the living area and took you to her room with the door closed. She took your backpack from you and put it on her bed, the weight of it told her that something was going on at home. Jos hugs you without being asked, rubbing your back and kissing you on the cheek. “You’re okay.”

“No, I’m not.” You mumbled.

“And that’s alright, too. But you’re safe here, y/n.” She assured, “I promise.”

“Okay.” You answered and broke away from the hug to sit down on her bed. Nervously, you picked at your nails, a soft sigh falling from your lips.

“You hungry?”

You shook your head, avoiding her eyes. She squatted down and then wound up kneeling before you so that she could see your eyes. “Baby.” She held onto your hands, brushing over your knuckles.

You shook your head more vigorously, like you were trying to get rid of the tears forming in your eyes. What eventually came out was a whine, then you just burst into tears. And it was unlike you to do that, unless…unless you were regressed. Jos knew your triggers. Very clearly. Usually, there was this one thing that made you slip into this headspace. “Come here.” She whispered, “C’mere, baby.” Jos helped you into her lap, where she cradled you while you cried. “You’re alright, I’ve got you.” She said every now and then, rubbing your back as she rocked you a little bit.

“I don’t like —” You hiccuped, “I don’t like home.”

“You can stay here.” She stroked your cheek, “You can stay here, alright? You don’t have to go home.”

“Alwight.” You sniffled, replying shakily. “I sorry.”

Jos picks up on little things like these, your sentences getting less and less well-strung together, the way you pronounced some words. That’s the way she figures out how she should take care of you. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not?” You sniffed, choking on a sob.

“It’s not.” She repeated.

You stopped crying after a few minutes, trying to calm down your breathing. Jos was knowingly rubbing your back, repeating words of assurances to you while you stayed mostly silent— other than the occasional sniffling.

“Hey.” She says, breaking the silence, a hand on your cheek, “I got you something that I think you might like.”

You didn’t say anything, just looked at her for a second, curious. “I got you a few things.” She smiled, “Colouring books, and a new stuffy.”

The corners of your lips finally tug into a smile.

“You want me to go get them?” She asked. You nodded, “Okay.”

“Okay.” She mirrors your smile, “Sit right here and wait for me. I’ll just be a second.” Jos walked over to her desk, pulling open a drawer to retrieve the two books and the box of crayons. Then, she picked up the new stuffed toy from her desk chair.

“It’s a peanut.” You giggled, laying on your stomach while you waited.

“It is.” She chuckled, handing the stuffed toy to you.

“Thank you.” You grinned, she sat down next to you, laying the two books on the floor— one Paw Patrol and the other, Bluey. You opened up the box of crayons in anticipation. “Wanna colour?”

“Mhm, yes please.”

“Which one, baby?” She nudged. You immediately went for the Bluey book grabbed a crayon to start colouring, Jos took a crayon too, then began to colour the fence on the colour page.

“You like the peanut?” She asks.

“I doooo.” You giggled, thoroughly amused before you poked the toy, “It looks silly.”

Jos smiled, ruffling with your hair, “It does, huh? Ooh, that looks really nice.”

“Thank you.” You quiet down, softly replying.

“D’you wanna eat dinner downstairs?”

You usually didn’t if her siblings were home. You didn’t want to be seen by them when you were regressed. Her parents though, you were okay with it because you knew that they understood. It was just harder to explain to Izzie, but especially Matt.

“I’ll bring it up for you, baby.” She held your face by the chin and squished your cheeks, making you give her a cheeky smile that she loved so much. You nodded, then you both resumed colouring until Margot came up to tell Jos that dinner was ready. She said hi to you, and you just waved. She knew.

“Can you help me?” You spoke up, “I bring my school homework.”

“Of course, lovey. Not now, though. Let’s just play for now, how about that?”

You hummed, giving her a quick nod and swiftly returning to your fun task instead of worrying about what would make you feel more upset.

Jos joined her family downstairs for dinner, but not before she got you completely settled down and made sure you were going to be okay. “Okay.” She kissed the top of your head, “All good?”

You nodded happily. She’d helped you set up this little foldable bed table so you could properly sit and eat— not forgetting the iPad so you could watch your cartoons at the same time.

“I’ll be right downstairs, but I won’t be too long, okay, baby?”

Dinner went by in the blink of an eye, with you being engrossed in whatever was playing on your iPad, you had no trouble eating.

“Alrighty, ready for bed? Wanna snuggle?”

You chuckled, “Yeah.”

“Gonna bring this downstairs, one second. You wanna pick out which friend you wanna cuddle with tonight?”

“Okay.” You walked over to a chest and opened it while she left the room to bring your plate and cutlery to the kitchen.

After picking out a stuffed toy for the night, you were laying in the middle of her bed, staring at the ceiling while you patiently waited for her to come back. “Let’s brush our teeth, sweetie.” You got up and followed her into the bathroom next to her room. The bedtime routine took place in silence, then you were in her arms again and the chosen toy was squished between you and her. You didn’t mind it though, you were happy to be held like this by Jos. She really cared about you.

The next day, you and Jos stayed home from school. The both of you did everything together: from making breakfast to playing dress up. Jos made sure you didn’t have a single thing to worry about, like always. When you were with her, the world as you knew it, ceased to exist. Nothing else mattered more to her than seeing your joy. Nothing else mattered more to her than letting you know you were loved, so loved.

Here she looked at you, watching your favourite cartoon on her iPad, not a care in the world. She smiled, stroking your head. You glanced at her for a moment, “What?” You asked innocently.

“Nothing, baby. Just…happy to see you.” Jos smiled at the end of her sentence.

You chuckled softly, mirroring her smile.

“Never lose that smile of yours, y/n.” Jos licked her lips, scooting closer to the space next to you. You reflexively snuggled up with her, she just wrapped her arms around you instantly. “Oh, I love you so much, sweetie.”

You said back with a grin, “I love you too, Josie.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

Here you go, anon! Sorry it took awhile, tried to get it done asap🥲

[egophiliac]

Serious question.

Do you think we’ll see the parents/family of each of the guys???

Like, We’ve been TEASED with Ace’s brother, that I’m starting to think it’s just a reference to that Alice in Wonderland park character in Japan and nothing else….

Jack’s family, Ruggie’s grandma, Falena, Maleficia, Ms.Rosehearts, Just now Vil’s dad is in the picture which I am really happy but now I’m wondering about his mom, and so Deuce’s mom.

I mean, some HAVE a silhouette!! It could mean they do have a design in the making/ready to show. They could’ve shown us Falena in the Tamashina (hope I said that correctly) event, but didn’t (prolly to make Leona not so σ(▼□▼メ) and it’s understandable)

Anyhow, any idea/headcannon about this? Who do you want to see first?

I'm wondering if everyone might eventually get a travel event? like they've now introduced with Vil's that it doesn't have to be specifically hometowns, so that opens things up a lot! (especially if they have to figure out how to do three separate Coral Sea visits) (how would that even work otherwise)

but yeah, I hope everyone gets a chance! there's a lot of backstory characters I would LOVE to meet. :D :D :D though I do think some of them don't really suit the more light-hearted tone of the events (pretty sure you're right about that being why Falena wasn't in Tamashina-Mina, that would've just been. too much for Leona.) so like...we're probably not ever going to meet the Rosehearts. or Maleficia (although I maintain that this would be THE funniest possible way to introduce her outside of the main story, and actually I would love this a lot, can we please Twst) (I need to see her to put Malleus in a froofy little outfit and tell him what a handsome boy he is). but they've sprung surprises like Kifaji on us, and honestly anyone who shows up and tells embarrassing stories about characters' childhoods is good in my book!

characters off the top of my head who I most want to meet: literally any of the Zigvolts, Azul's mom, Ace's brother, Che'nya's grandfather (<- I think he would be a good one for Riddle) (please just any non-terrible adult in his life), any member of Rook's family because I need to see how they managed to produce him, and...really just whoever they can come up with for Silver.

[rachelfoleyisntdead]

Nah, the fact that Mileena had the audacity to be all, "who told you?" when Kitana called her out about Tanya. Like, my empress in Christ, you are openly eye-fucking your bodyguard in front of a live audience consisting of your subjects. Neither of the two of you are being subtle. Tanya can explain away her antics as Just Bodyguard Things™, but what would be Mileena's excuse?

Plus,why was she even keeping it secret from Kitana of all people? Bitch,that's your twin. Y'all shared a whole womb. I'm sure Kitana's no snitch. Acting like Kitana couldn't figure it out by herself. Realistically,what could Kitana really do,besides maybe tell Sindel?

(It's giving "And you did it at my birthday dinner!" )

Kitana seeing Mileena flirt with Tanya in front of the Gods and all of Outworld:

Mileena being like "WHO SNITCHED" is top 10 MK1 moments tho

[fishandships]

Does Rosario have any pets? Does Luchino’s collection count as pets? Do any other partners of Rosario have pets? Or have like wanted and suggested they get one? Or is everyone like “Luchino has enough pets for us to worry about.”

Yes! Rosario has a pet dove named Agapito! they found him with a broken wing, and though they did their best to mend him, he's not able to be returned to the wild, and is now their constant companion. he's a Collared Dove, although for Rosario's A-tiers i like to draw him as different species to match their outfit :)

Rosario will be the first to tell you - albeit a bit sadly, with a longing sigh - that the animals in Luchino's collection are not pets, and Rosario is not trained to handle them (although apparently he has a few non-venomous reptiles in there so maybe Rosario can at least handle those). however, Rosario gets to dote on Bane's dogs as much as they like, which Bane finds immensely endearing. Andrew likes birds, Agapito being no exception, and i could see him being a cat person and would certainly encourage Rosario if they wanted to adopt a stray they found. i headcanon Norton as more neutral towards animals - he's not particularly fond of them, but he doesn't dislike them, either, so he won't object to Rosario keeping pets while sharing a home with him but he's not looking to get any himself.

[spectacular-supernova]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PRESIDENT OF TONARI CLUB!

I, uh, m-made something f-for you.

Know that I'm totally embarrassing my ass over here, so... Don't laugh loud enough that I can hear you from over here!

Aaaaaand now, per Lyndis tradition, I'm gonna overexplain shits and turn a simple Ask into a whole ass Ramble!

-----------------------------(why is there no "Read More" partition in an Ask? I'm so embarrassed right now goddamn it)-------------------------

If you're short-sighted, try removing your glasses or contact lenses and look at this picture. I just did and it's suddenly even prettier!

I actually planned to draw your Sonicsona at first. And then I realized I deadass couldn't even draw Base Sonic. Then I thought I should draw a mole. I realized I also couldn't draw a mole. I thought I should just go for the easiest shit and draw ToFu. I realized I could not draw either one of them, too.

Because I cannot draw, I cheat! I mean I turn things into shapes (chiefly triangles, though not all of them) and then color them and hope that something shows up. This is me using this scientific /+ philosophical concept called Emergence.

No, I didn't just say THAT to sound like I have a technique of any kind, trust. It's so totally a technique—my very productive ass told me.

I remember you saying your favorite color is something like pink, blue, and stuff? It was from that tag game from last year. Hence, I decided I should create a context so I could draw an obscene amount of pink and blue.

If I'm being honest, it took me less than a millisecond to come up with the exact context—Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom is abundantly blue.

And since I always wanted to sneak ToFu in, I thought I would make a purplish-pink dusk. And then I will sneak those stargazing two in.

Come on. Everyone knows those ToFu panels. Even someone like me, who had not seen that part of the manga yet, knows.

Bless Tonari for being so relaxing to color.

HOWEVER! Fushi's limited-ass color presented a big problem for my cheat-drawing. How many combinations of "white" can you even make before you zoom out and see... nothing?! So I basically sabotaged them. That's what you get for being difficult, you mopey, neck-crick-possessing, fragile-enough-to-be-blown-by-the-wind cutie doofus.

I made up the color of their pants. I didn't even refer to their Nameless Boy drip when I decided on the color. I assed that part.

Yes. I admit I put a shit ton of effort into coloring Zelda. This version of Zelda is my kin, you know. Anyway, I like the way her, uh, shirt turned out.

I also like how the Master Sword turned out, but there was so much blue I ended up requiring outlines to distinguish it from Link's shirt and the sky. Told ya I have no technique or skill. I cheat through and through

I was too lazy to draw those sky islands. Besides, the ToTK side is already saturated with details.

What the fuck issa "proportion?" Everyone's head is an orange. The difference, Nova, is whether it's a Mandarin Orange or an Orange.

I don't know if I overdid Dinraal's draconic mane. It looks like she's wearing a wig. At least she is different from how she initially looked—a red tapeworm outfitted with chicken legs.

I admit I put more effort than any Past Me would have into Dinraal because a certain mutual is very, ah, particular about dragons.

Drawing two of your favorite ships for their show of devotion was a completely deliberative choice on my end. Did you also realize that both Link and Fushi had a short, small, low ponytail and that both Zelda and Tonari had similar hair? I believe it's due to me hitting my drawing skill limitation.

There is actually an Easter Egg of some sort in this picture. It's not the ugly doodle thing, no. That thing is me. I'm not an Easter Egg; I'm a ghost.

I'm not telling you what that Easter Egg is. I'm fine with it never being discovered; it'd be like those secret levels in old video games.

But if you DID discover it, come tell me what you think it is!

---------------

I hope you like it enough! Instead of it giving you a migraine, that is. Surely my """art"""... doesn't require a trigger warning... right?

Have a good one, mai bruzha!

---Lyn

A RAMBLE FROM YOU LYN IS THE BEST POSSIBLE BRITHDAY PRESENT I COULD HAVE EVER RECEIVED!!!! COUPLED WITH ART BY YOU????? AND OF MY FAVORITE FELLAS????? What did I deserve to be so blessed ;A; 💕💕💕

I’ll spare us all a little extra scrolling on my part by adding that read more you were fretting about, I have my own ramble upcoming!

I KNOW YOURE ON YOURSELF ABOUT NOT BEING ARTISTIC OR WHATEVER BUT THIS IS ART!!! AND DAMN GOOD ART TOO!!!!!!! This is!!!!!!!!!!! I want this made into stained glass I want to make this the permanent window to me bed roOM LYN THIS IS AMAZING THIS IS ALMOST CERTAINLY GOING DOWN AS ONE OF MY FAVORITE ART STYLES!!!! There’s no such thing as cheating in art, it’s all art!!! “Cheating” is a style, no technique is a style!!! I should know I have none either, hehe -w-‘ your art may be some type of cubism? Hehe idk I’m not an art student :3 Either way this is absolutely gorgeous I’m in LOVE!!!

It’s so creative and well done and I LOVE your eye for detail, the lighting is inspired!!!! Like the way the sun hits the space behind Zelda is so pretty, AND ZELDA IS SO PRETTY!!!!!! EVERYRHING IS SO PRETTY, I CANT FOCUS ON ONE THING BECAUSE I KEEP JUMPING BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN ALL THE THINGS I LOVE ABOUT IT (every thing, every last detail!!! Is that a little you in the middle? Is that the Easter egg???? I could just pick you up and pat your little head!!! 😭 I know you don’t love hugs but that’s how I’ll be standing if you’re ever ready for one!!!)

I should slow down maybe and pick a few things to focus on BUT I JUST CANT I LOVE IT ALL!!!! The two scenes just blend so well into one another that my eyes are just naturally being drawn back and forth between both of the scenery! Dinraal, who turned out AMAZIING BY THE WAY, ABSOLUTELY NOT OVERDONE, if anything I’m so glad you had fun working on her!!! She’s so gorgeous!!!! I bet your friend is so so proud of how well she looks!!! Oh but anyway, Dinraal naturally leads my eyes over to the sun/moon (and the 24, hehe, thank you!!! /)//(\ Your memory is astounding!!), which have their own beautiful rays of light leading down onto the adorable couples 😭 I love love LOVE the moonlight leading down onto Tonari and Fushi, and the fact that she’s pointing at it too like she can almost reach it? Beautiful! Gorgeous!!! And it just leads my eyes down to them too, there’s just such a natural circular flow here, no wonder I keep getting caught in a loop of admiration! 😁

The blues and the pinks, and the stars on the ToFu side!!! I just noticed them and they’re everything to me!!!! Hahaha I’m so glad Tonari was relaxing to color hehe, same for me, something about her is just so lovely and calming when she’s relaxed 🥰 As for Fushi’s colors, I didn’t notice! Even after you pointed it out it looks good to me! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ this is from someone who never references colors though, I’m so loosey goosey about everything -w- BUT YOUR SOLUTION TO YOUR PROBLEM WAS GREAT, THEIR SHAPE IS VERY VISIBLE AND EASY TO MAKE OUT hehe :3 I love their crossed little legs 🥰

Zelda being your kin is so good to know hehe, I’ve always been drawn to all versions of Link myself! I think we’ve been perfectly set up to “play dolls” with these characters in the future, so to speak! Aaaahh they can’t have been easy to draw, there’s a reason I almost never dabble in drawing those two and their intricate outfits, but you make it look effortless!!! Zelda’s shirt turned out amazing, and I’m stuck looking at her little triangle braids!!!! I don’t know why I’m so fixated on that it’s just adorable!!! 😭💕 What a lovely technique, man, I’m so enchanted! AND THE MASTER SWORD, I know you called it cheating BUT I LOVE THE LINE WORK, it makes the sword stand out, almost like you lined that specific part with some sort of melted gold??? Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!

This is gorgeous and beautiful in every which way and thank you!!!! For everything!!! For this beautiful drawing and for giving me a chance to ramble and giving me something gorgeous to look at for the rest of my day, and for indulging in both of my silly little ships /)//(\ I’m so glad I don’t need glasses because I love every inch of your art, thank you thank you THANK YOU!!!!! Gosh it’s so so so lovely 😭💕 you’re so lovely!!!!

I don’t know how to say goodbye so I guess I’ll just say good night for now! Thank you for thinking of me… I’ll have a wonderful day, so long as you promise me you’ll have a wonderful night along side me 🥰

Goodnight, Mai Bruzha!

- Nova