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xtreklx · 8 months

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Low ~ Raphael x reader

One-shot: bayverse Raphael x reader Word count: 3.7k Warnings: cursing, mature themes, and slight NSFW, so this one is rated 18+ (minors DNI, see my masterlist for disclaimer) A/N: holy Toledo this one's a doozy. I've been working on it for a while, and it's def one of my favorite things I've written so far (at least, for now..). loosely based on the song Low by SZA, and lyrics are included in the text where I see fit. also I added color-coded dialogue for funsies. thank you guys for all the love on my stuff, and I hope you enjoy :)

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As a young, blossoming adult, your life so far has been overall steady. It staggers here and there, of course: moving in waves as life often does. But for the most part, it is everlasting mundanity. Your early twenties are supposed to be where it begins to roar; when you obtain the dizzying adrenaline and overwhelming fear of free will. Empty wallets, fleeting romances, broken hearts, anxiety, love, hurt. These emotions are meant to be felt, and life is not lived without them.

So, as life would have it, your steady mundanity was indeed set ablaze in your early twenties, when you fell in love with someone you had originally thought you hated.

Some might call that cliché. But, in actuality, not quite.

You had been friends with the mutant ninja turtles for years, ever since they saved New York City from the infamous Kraang attack of 2016. Your father was a police officer, and you had all met at the post-battle award ceremony and celebration. You and the turtles were 17 at the time, and you saw them repeatedly after that as they continued to work with the NYPD. Over time, you grew to become the friends you were now.

Well, not all of you. From your first encounter with the brawny brother in red, you discovered that he had quite the knack for pushing your buttons. While Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Donatello became some of your closest friends in the world, Raphael did everything he could to block you out. He was argumentative, temperamental, and unpredictable. You two could fight about anything: what kind of toppings to put on pizza, DC vs. Marvel, song or movie choice, even knitting patterns. The two of you were always bickering, always finding some way to make a snide comment or butt heads about something. You couldn't stand him, and the feeling was very obviously mutual.

On the topic of heads: flash forward five years later, when it finally came to one. You had been spending a lot more time with your turtle friends after finishing off your online degree program. While you were happy this was the case, the tension between you and Raphael seemed to be growing the more often you were around.

One day, the guys had gone out on their regularly scheduled patrol, with Raph staying behind because of a particularly nasty fight with Leo. You were waiting in the lair for them to return so that you could have your weekly movie night, but you were growing bored, and Master Splinter was nowhere to be found. Thus, you made the difficult decision to go bother Raph as he worked out in the dojo.

When he saw you approaching his bench, he groaned through a rep, his eyes rolling back into his head. "What do ya want, shortstack?" He grumbled as he continued to bench press his barbell, the veins in his big, green arms flaring with each movement.

You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed. "Save it, meat head. The more entertaining members of this family are gone, so I'm stuck here with you and nothing else to do. So..." You paused for a moment, watching as a scowl grew on his face while he continued his reps. "Do you want a spot.. or something?"

Raphael let out a breathy laugh as he set the barbell down back onto the stand. "Easy, tiger," He spoke as he sat up on his bench, side-eyeing you. "Even if you could lift this bar, I sure as shit ain't letting ya spot me. You'd purposefully drop it on my head before I could even bat my eyes at ya."

Your arms uncrossed and your hands went to your hips as you took a step closer to the red-masked brute. "Pssh, like I'd ever let you bat your eyes at me. I'd gouge out my own eyeballs before that could happen."

He scoffed up at you as he began to unwrap the bandages on his hands, which had been protecting his calluses from the aggressive texture of the metal bar. "Gee, yer a real charmer, aren't ya?" he questioned sarcastically, slightly under his breath. "Must be why you gotta line of men falling at your feet. Someone's gotta tame the tiger."

The dig at your love life (or rather, lack of one) made your face heat up, and you clenched your fists at your sides, taking another step closer to the brute. After all these years of bickering and insults, you were finally nearing your limit. "God, I try to be civil with you for one single day and you're a total asshole for no reason. What's your damage, Raph?"

Raphael whipped his head to you, the bandages he had just finished unwrapping long forgotten as he tossed them to the floor. He stood up from his bench as he spoke, taking a step towards you. "Ain't that easy. Yer my damage, sweetheart. Always have been, always will be."

"Oh, yeah?" You two stood not even a foot apart, and you were glaring up at him with the most intimidating look you could muster. "And just what exactly is your problem with me?" You could feel your heart rate increasing from the growing tension in the room. The air surrounding you felt like it had been injected with adrenaline, and you felt your temperature rising by the second. "Another easy one," Raph growled, looming over you. "You annoy the shit outta me, and ya never know when to shut yer goddamn mouth."

Your rage was increasing by the second, and by the fumes you felt radiating off of his mutant green form, you could say the same for the turtle in red. You were practically pressed against each other, him with a scowl on his face and you with a fire in your eyes. Your chest puffed up, and the words were out of your mouth before you could have a second thought.

"I bet you'd like to make me, wouldn't ya?"

It was silent after that. After quickly thinking it over, you almost gasped aloud at the implications of your words. The eye contact changed from a heated stare battle to his hazel eyes dominating, searching yours. You had been feeling very confident up until this moment, but that sentence alone caused the confidence to wither away, confusion at yourself taking its place. What the fuck did I just say?

Raphael's snarl had changed into a look of surprise. Confusion. And then back to anger.

With a frustrated grunt, he grabbed your waist and smashed his lips to yours.

And that was the kerosene to the match that set your young adult life ablaze.

The kiss was all burning rage, gory passion. It was tongues brushing and teeth clashing and a harsh grip on your waist and an even harsher grip on the tough, scaled skin of his shoulders. It was embers and flames and then the roar of a forest fire.

You couldn't help the sounds that the kiss drew from deep within your chest. You didn't know how or why, but your soft lips fit oh so perfectly against his rough, scarred ones. Your mouths moved together in a harmonious rhythm despite the chaos, even as he gripped you by your thighs and carried you to his bedroom, as if you had practiced this a hundred times before. It felt like second nature to kiss Raphael, even though this was your first time doing so.

And you hated that you felt that way.

What followed could, in no universe, be described as love-making. It was desperate and reckless ecstasy, a steaming release of the fury and tension you had been feeling towards one another for all these years. It could be seen in the way your nails clawed at his tough skin, in the way he pounded himself in and out of you, in the way your needy moans synchronized with his low grunts, in the way you clenched ever so tightly around him as he filled you with himself; it was aggressive, rough, almost mean.

You and Raph stilled for a moment after it was all over, breathing heavily and not saying a word, when you suddenly heard commotion coming from the living room. You made eye contact quickly, eyes widened, before scrambling to get dressed and cleaned up. You scurried out of his room and into the hallway, making it look to the returning brothers like you had been merely using the bathroom. And neither one of you spoke of it.

If you see me out in public, you don't know me, keep it silent In the bedroom, I be screamin', but outside, I keep it quiet Keep it on lowski, I'm the lowest of the lowest Wanna see if you can keep it like nobody know shit

The months that followed held similar tales of hidden passion. You and Raph never outright discussed what was transpiring, but assumed the unspoken rule of not mentioning it to his brothers. You continued to hang out with them when you could; on movie nights, you told them that you liked to wait in the lair for them to return from patrol so that you could eat all the popcorn without them. If Raphael stayed back from patrol, you snuck into his room or the dojo with a sarcastic remark and a smug look to annoy him to the point of 'teaching you a lesson'. If one of you was feeling particularly desperate to let off some steam, he would sneak out to your apartment on their nights off, telling his brothers that he was going to go get some air to 'clear his mind'. No matter what time he called or texted, you answered. It was almost like an addiction; you couldn't get enough of each other, and you couldn't deny how the other was able to satisfy you perfectly.

You know how to reach me every time and it plays in your mind With a rush that feels like we committin' a crime You know where you belong, I'm gon' save you a spot But we can't be outside 'cause the block is too hot And I'm all on your mind...

At first, as stubborn as you both were, you kept up your gig of hating each other, despite the passion you were displaying. Between kisses and within sexual acts, your bickering continued relentlessly. "Wow, ya didn't even wear panties today. Gettin' desperate, are we?" "By the looks of your crotch right now, I don't think I'm the desperate one, dumbass." "Ya better watch yer fuckin' mouth." "Why, Red? Can't handle the heat?" "Oh, I'm boutta show ya heat, sweetheart."

It was a balancing act, both of you trying not to break face and show the other how much you were enjoying these rendezvous of yours. Pride is a crazy thing, however, and as the situation went on, it began to manifest itself in other ways.

Raphael was the one to start it, about a month into the endeavor. He couldn't help himself; after a day of arguing with Leo and feeling like a disappointment, he sought you out to release his frustrations. And the way you looked writhing and whining above him (as he munched like his life depended on it) had him feeling real smug. His hazel eyes watched you as he worked, the liquid gold shining with mischief. When he came up for air, his hands still keeping busy, the pride emerged.

"Anyone else make ya feel like this, doll?" He asked, his low voice scraping your ears like gravel, a dark smirk spreading across his face. "Tell me. Can anyone else make ya feel this good?" You had rolled your eyes and scoffed in the moment, but couldn't help the moans that continued to emerge from your mouth at his actions, clenching the sheets beneath you. He saw your bratty behavior and abruptly halted his movement, holding your hips still so that you were trapped. "Answer the damn question, or I'm stoppin'." You squirmed for a moment, whining, but your need had consumed you like a demon. "No!" You yelped. "No one else makes me feel this good, Raph! No one else makes me feel like you do! Please don't stop, please!" You wouldn't have called it begging after the fact, but he most certainly did.

After that, something shifted. Sure, your sessions were still utilized for tension release, but there was more of a possession between you two than there had been before. The two of you were hanging out more often than you ever had. The bickering lessened, and in its place was validation, need, and your names on each others' lips. The contact grew more tender, and the conversations afterwards were more joke-y and only held friendly fire.

"So... do ya wanna put on that movie you were tellin' me about the other day?" "Wow, you wanna watch a movie with me? You must reallyyyyyyy enjoy spending time with me, Red~" "To be honest, I'm not here for you, I'm just here for the take out I know yer gonna end up orderin' later." "I love this hot n cold thing we have going on here. It's really turning me on." "Yer such a fuckin' goofball."

Between the two of you grew a mutual respect, an understanding, a cooperation: a love.

You found yourself thinking of things you wanted to tell Raph about when he wasn't around, and craving his input when you sought him out for advice. You yearned for the sound of his gruff voice and his blunt choice of words that always made you laugh or eased your mind. He found himself longing for the random questions you asked him or the jokes you'd regularly crack (whether they were funny or not) and the angelic sound of your laughter. Neither of you told the other about these feelings you were having, but they continued to develop on both sides.

Raphael found himself pondering these feelings one day while hitting the bag in the dojo, growing frustrated with himself. You had been in the lair hanging out with his brothers, and he continued his workout routine in the interest of being discreet, but he longed for nothing more than to hang out with you. To just be with you like his brothers were right now.

Of course, a particular brother in blue was bothering him more than normal. Leo was closer to you today than he normally was: giving you long hugs, sitting close to you on the couch, making you laugh with his idiotic jokes. Raph scoffed as he heard your laugh from the living room now, throwing an extra aggressive jab. What did Leo know, anyway? He'd bet that he could make you laugh twice as hard. He stopped, annoyed with himself for being so worked up, and stepped away to grab a towel and some water.

As he made his way over to the mini fridge to grab a bottle, he was surprised to see you making your way over to him. Normally, on nights like these, he didn't expect anything from you besides your staged bickering until his brothers went to sleep or you went back to your apartment. You had a playful smile on your face as you approached the mini fridge, a message in your eyes that he couldn't quite make out, but goddamn he knew they were trying to say something to him.

"Hey, big guy. Leo sent me to grab some water," you looked up at him as you spoke, the smirk still on your face. And all the hope that Raph had felt in that moment dissipated, like popping a balloon. He scoffed at you, rolling his eyes before grabbing a water bottle and walking away.

"Wait, woah. What's the matter?" He heard you ask from behind him, confused. He shook his head as he walked. "Nothin's the matter," He spoke slightly under his breath, but you could still hear him. "Why don't ya just go back to Leo? You're all over him, anyway."

He heard your footsteps as you followed him over to his bench. "Hold up, do you have a problem with me hanging out with your brother?" Raph couldn't make eye contact as he turned around to face you, so he looked down at the ground and huffed, eye ridges furrowed. "Well, ya know me, and I don't like ta share. So if you're gonna hang out with him like that, then go ahead."

"And just what would you be sharing?" You stood your ground a couple of feet in front of him, arms crossing at your chest and a determined glint in your eye. "Be straight with me, Raph, 'cause it's time we talked about this. What's going on between us?" He let out a grunt, shocked at your sudden confrontation, but still refusing to make eye contact. "Obviously nothin', if yer gonna go hang with Leo like that."

You inhaled, trying to maintain your patience. From the proximity you now held with the turtle in red, you knew you wouldn't get anywhere by fighting back. "Let me rephrase that. What do you want to be going on between us?" Raph moved to turn away from you, huffing again. "I don't know! Geez!" He exclaimed, before you grabbed his large bicep. He faced you, his massive form towering over your frame as you stepped close to him. He finally looked into your eyes, and saw nothing but a genuine question. No teasing, no tormenting, just a silent plead.

"Hey, talk to me, Red. It's just me." You smiled softly, begging eyes searching his liquid gold ones for something, anything, to grab onto and run with. He let you for a moment, before looking down at the ground again, growing more and more frustrated with himself. He took a deep breath, and kept his gaze on the floor as he spoke.

"...I'm not very good with words, ya know that." He paused for a moment, making quick eye contact with you before looking back to the floor. "But I just... I like how this is goin'. How we're goin'... I like us together. I like bein' with ya, Y/N, and I just wanna do that without any of the other shit. I..." He stopped again, taking another deep breath. "I want to be with ya for real. And I'm sorry if I messed this up and that's not what ya want--"

"I want that, too, Raph," You cut him off with a rising smile on your face, not being able to wait any longer. "That's all I've been wanting to be honest. I should have mentioned it earlier." Raph returned his eyes up to your face, shock gracing his expression. "Wait, so yer not into Leo?" He questioned, slightly caught off guard. You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove. "No dumbass, I'm into you." He watched your smile grow into a beam, silent, before a smile began to grow on his face as well.

"God, finally," a voice exclaimed before Leo came out from behind the entrance of the dojo, walking up to the two of you. "It took you guys long enough. Even I was getting impatient." "Thanks buddy," you said to him, smiling as you guys bumped fists. Raphael watched the exchange, confused. "Wait... what?" He asked gruffly, eyes flicking between you and his brother. "You knew... about.. us?"

"Dude, we've all known for a while." Mikey shouted from the living room. Donnie walked past the entrance of the dojo and paused, a newly filled cup of coffee in his hand. "Yeah, you guys aren't exactly the most discrete," he said, before continuing his stroll back to his lab. Leo chuckled before turning back to his brother.

"I was tired of watching you guys sneak around, so I finally confronted Y/N about it last week, and she spilled the beans on how she felt about you. Something told me you felt the same way, call it a brotherly instinct. Or maybe it was all the times you not-so-secretly snuck off to her apartment." He gave his muscly brother a playful punch to the bicep. "So pardon me for playing matchmaker a little bit."

You took a step closer to Raph, hugging yourself around one of his arms and looking up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, I mayyyyyyy have gotten impatient and recruited Leo to help me move things along. That's why we were all cuddly today. But you don't mind, right?" You jokingly pressed him, batting your eyelashes.

He rolled his eyes at you and scoffed, removing you from his arm, but wrapped his arms around your waist instead of pushing you away. He pulled you from his side to his front, turning you to completely face him and ignoring his older brother present in the room. "Yeah, I guess it's fine or whateva," he fake-sighed, bringing you close to his plastron and leaning in toward you. You, too, leaned in, your arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"Okay, at least wait until I'm out of the room to start sucking face," Leo commented, turning around and booking it out of the dojo. The two of you turned your heads to watch him leave before facing each other again, glowing smiles on your faces.

"So... I guess I tamed the tiger, huh?" He teased gruffly, nudging his snout into your cheek. You giggled, a mischievous glint reaching your eyes. "Who said anything about tame?" You teased back, playing with the ends of his blood red mask.

"That's my girl," he murmured, before smashing his lips into yours.

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sheep-from-rad · 1 year

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Stay with me, Sway with me ♡ (SAGAU) Note: This song, I love this so much. This is a request by @mehhiah, sorry it took me so long to tackle this one. Also please, if you have requests put it in the ask box so I can easily see it (also priv messages scares me sorry). Anyway, I’m absolutely involved with this song, I hope you guys enjoy it! LASTLY, MY REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY CLOSED. Warnings: Semi-ooc (?), Prince Kaeya theory (I really love that one so I added it), bullet type, semi-yandere-ish [Masterlist 1] , [Masterlist 2]

Ever since the traveler breaks the wall that separates their lives from the dark reality about them being trapped in a game, music together with other factors has been a part of everyone’s lives. It’s not uncommon for foreign sounding music to be played everywhere, even in churches. Traveler songs being played together with new ones, old ones getting mixed up and rewritten to fit the new ones. While aware, sometimes you just forget that they are indeed alive and can interact with you.

You held the broom in your hands, pressing it close to your chest imagining a microphone, the ones that you can see at concerts and live bars. You put on your headphones, eyes fixated on the task of cleaning your room before the holiday ends. “When Marimba rhythm starts to play…”

Diluc pretends like he’s not paying attention to the song that you are currently singing. It’s not the same as the songs that he is used to hearing both from the locals and from the Bard god. It has a sensual tone on it and it bears an air of refinery that reminds him of the fallen aristocrats Mondstadts used to have. He doesn’t care about crowns and wealth but being named as an uncrowned king, he can’t help but imagine the two of us dancing in such a song. In, in his arms at the after hours of the tavern to the early hours of dawn. Maybe he’ll steal a kiss or two, that if you let him to.

Kaeya was having a late night drink when he heard the song that you are singing. It reminds him of that time he and Rosaria got so drunk they decided to climb Albedo’s laboratory but ended up watching Eula dance in the frozen waters (she chased them afterwards and chased them at work). Nobles sure love their fancy dances and he was not safe from Crepus’s dancing lessons as well. He can imagine the two of you dancing in the empty, semi-dim ballroom. Just the two of you, with the rich robes on your body and crown on his head. If he can’t run from his fate, he might just go embrace it if it means embracing you as his own.

Venti writes a song while he listens to you sing. He is so used to the songs of praise or song of tales but a song that tells about desire is something that is new to his ear. Serenades to exist in Teyvat but they don’t go as far as to tell the most intimate desires. They only go on the surface and barely scratch the realm of what love is supposed to feel. Tomorrow comes the musical revolution and for sure everyone who hears the song of the night will make something of the same liking. He hopes that before you descend, he will be able to write the best song that describes his whole heart.

Ayato finds himself a little flustered by the song. Inazuma just opened again a long time ago and the only references that he has on such subjects are those written by the locals and tales of his workers. It is safe to say that Inazuma is still in the age of conservatism even though it is now slowly advancing to be able to walk at the same pace as the other nations. He can’t help but stand up and away from his work, thinking about the lyrics of the song over and over. Bards sing about their feelings and poets make poems about the things that entices their feelings, does it mean you want someone to hold you close and bend you on the dancefloor? If so, he wants to be the one to do it.

Alhaitham was taking notes. Dances are not uncommon in Sumeru but it is also not something practiced freely until the traitorous sages fell from their thrones. Dances and arts in general are still in their toddler days and he is glad that they get references from other nations. He notes the song being sensual, a type of song that only sang on weddings or intimate dates. The type of dance that he wants to share with you. To pull you by the hand and cradle your head possessively while he glare at everyone who wants to get close. It’s not like he’s gonna let someone get close to you. Not the traveler, not the sages, and definitely not Kaveh. That or, maybe he’ll let Kaveh join in

Taglist! @tinandabin | @chihawari |@eccedentesiast-sapphic @jaxielous |@uchihaeirin |@zuri-feather

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moonlight-prose · 8 months

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finding excuses to be alone with each other with miguel??

ME VUELVES LOCA

a/n: my first ever miggy fic!!! babes i am so fucking excited to be writing for this man. our dms are literally just filled with thoughts about him and that gave me so much inspo to write this. i've tried to get his voice down, but honestly i don't think i nailed it quite yet. still i hope you enjoy! (the title is named after such a beautiful song by lupita infante. i definitely recommend her music.)

note: thank you to @sunflowersteves for beta reading and easing my mind that this sounds like miggy. you're lovely darling.🖤

summary: "for weeks you’d been playing this cat and mouse game. trying to put off the attraction you felt in the hopes that this would dissolve into friendship once more."

word count: 0.9k+

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

warnings: not explicit, tad bit of angst (because it's me), fluff, the beginnings of love, soft miggy.

If there’s one thing you can say for certain it’s this: finding a lick of privacy in the otherwise crowded Spider Society was near impossible. In fact it had surpassed being in the realm of near impossible to never achievable. Wherever you turned there was a Spider in need of help. Asking for the one person who always managed to get dragged away from your secretive plans.

Miguel wasn’t one to push off someone’s request for help. Yet the many inconveniences that pulled him away from you seemed to only drive him towards one solution. Doing what he could to steal away every moment that he had with you. He wasn’t oblivious—he knew people could see the way you looked at each other. Yet asking him the truth was never an option, and you were always swift in an escape plan whenever the question arose.

He didn’t mind you evading the truth. Given that he wasn’t one to be entirely open with everyone—he found you keeping whatever you had private admirable. Hell he even encouraged it.

Except for today that is.

“Miguel I know it’s a lot to ask but—” He felt his back stiffen at the sound of Peter’s voice behind him; the expectation of a request not far behind.

You had sent him a message asking him to meet you in an empty office twenty minutes ago, and he was adamant on making it there on time. But that possibility seemed to drift farther and farther away the longer he stood here. Peter’s cheery expression only soured Miguel’s. He had half a mind to make up something and escape, but the urge to help continued to gnaw at him.

“What?” he asked, attempting to keep his voice calm—steady.

“This mission is kind of well a little harder than most. Not that it’s impossible. I mean nothing’s impossible. But I was wondering if you—”

A message from Lyla let him know that you were indeed five minutes away from being stood up yet again. Something weighed heavy in his chest, a feeling he was used to harboring when it came to you. And he hated it. Shutting his eyes briefly he staved off the annoyance that built the longer Peter yammered on about the difficulty of one mission. If it were any other time, if you weren’t waiting patiently for him to show up, then he’d have agreed.

But that wasn’t the case.

“Dios mío,” he muttered, finally turning around. “Peter you’re capable right?”

The man froze. “I mean…yeah I’d say I was.”

“Then you don’t need me.”

“Yeah but Miguel—”

“I’ve got another mission to handle.” The excuse flowed with ease off his tongue. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d done this—having made up every excuse in the book just to steal away time with you. He was certain you had done the same, knowing you were meant to be helping Gwen with something in the labs.

Peter seemed to catch onto the urgency of Miguel’s tone, but not in the way he hoped. A sly smile spread across his lips as he leaned in to nudge Miguel on the shoulder. If there ever was a moment to grasp onto any level of peace in his body—now was it. He was halfway to throwing Peter out of his office.

“I get you,” he said, backing away with his hands up. “The mission is much more important.”

“Get out.”

Peter was gone before Miguel could finish the word out—finally giving him the peace and satisfaction he desired. Instructing Lyla to close up everything behind him, he made his way towards the empty office—hoping you were actually still there. He couldn’t exactly blame you if you weren’t. It was rough finding ways to meet up, away from everything and everyone here.

Finding excuses seemed to be your way to go about things.

The door was shut and locked by the time he reached it, but that was easy enough to bypass. Given that you were most likely resting on the inside he figured it would be better to slip in silently. Sure enough he found you settled in a chair, your eyes opening to see him shutting the door softly behind him, a grin on his lips.

“I’m a mission huh?” you mumbled, standing and stretching with a groan.

He snorted, his eyes falling to the way you bent—watching you step closer. “Didn’t have anything else to say.”

“I suppose I could be a mission.”

“Yeah? And what was your excuse?”

You shrugged, leaning against the desk with a grin. “I told Gwen I was needed for repairs.”

“On what?”

Crossing your legs, you watched him take a step. “Don’t think it matters? She wouldn’t have believed me anyways.”

For weeks you’d been playing this cat and mouse game. Trying to put off the attraction you felt in the hopes that this would dissolve into friendship once more. But you could see it in Miguel’s eyes that he wasn’t interested in friendship. Hell he wasn’t even interested in taking things slow. Neither were you it seemed.

“I guess they know,” he muttered, his thighs pressing against your knees.

You smiled, reaching up to trace the Spider insignia across his chest. “Guess they do.”

“What now?”

Pulling him closer, you tried to keep yourself calm when he willingly fell into your hold, his body hunching down to meet yours. “We figure it out later,” you whispered, your nose barely brushing his. He grinned the sharp point of his fangs poking through. “Good.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fic #across the spiderverse #my writing #in love with love weekend🌷

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cosmicanemoia · 3 months

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Nobody Like You

Larissa Weems x Reader

Chapter 3

SUMMARY

2 months felt like an age, and even though you've been hoping for Larissa to show up at your door, you didn't expect it to happen now. You can hear her crying and muttering words you can not understand until you open the door.

"You are everything I never thought I needed and more." You heard Larissa say through her sobs.

"I'm such a fool for thinking otherwise. I'm sorry I hurt you and keep hurting you, for doubting you..." Larissa apologised.

You signalled her to come inside and sit on the couch. You offer her a tea, hoping it will calm her a little.

Larissa's tears slowly faded. "I miss you so much my darling. And I- *sighs* I don't know. I'm going crazy without you."

You cannot believe the words you're hearing. You've been thinking of begging her to take you back, but you didn't expect her to be the one to do it.

"Please. I beg of you to take me back." Larissa pleaded.

You are formulating words wanting to say the right thing. You want to take her back of course, but you're still too hurt... too broken, "I want to. I really do." You finally declared.

Larissa is sensing that you're not finished talking, so she urged you to continue, "but?"

"What will happen next? Are we back to our same old routine? Where you doubt me so much we broke up a lot? I don't want to be broken anymore... I'm afraid I'll fade." You continued.

Larissa moved closer, took your hands, and held it closer to her chest. "I'll spend every minute of every day making it up and proving to you that I'm worthy of your love."

You smile slightly at her and take your hand back to put around her body. You hugged her tightly and snuggled your face into the crook of her neck, and inhaled her essence. "You were always worthy, you just won't accept it." You whispered.

Larissa cling to you for dear life.

You both fell asleep on the sofa embracing each other and not wanting to ever let the other go.

It took at least a week before the tension pass, and now you were able to joke about it. And after three months your love for each other only grow and prosper.

(My Love Won't Let You Down by Little Mix)

The sound of slow and soft music echoes through the house.

Larissa's hands are around your upper body while yours are wrapped around her waist tightly.

Your body swayed rhythmically. Even though it's freezing outside. You could only feel each other's warmth.

Larissa hummed the tune of the song. You both throw a kiss on the forehead or on the cheek, or any exposed skin here and there.

-I'LL BE THERE WITH YOU

ANYTIME THAT YOU NEED ME TO-

You locked eyes while closely holding each other, and mouthed the lyrics of the song you were slow dancing to.

-MY LOVE WON'T LET YOU DOWN-

Your foreheads touch, and you can feel each other's breath on each other's lips. When the song ended you passionately kiss each other.

The next morning you woke up with Larissa lying on your chest. You softly caress her head as you smile to yourself. You sigh contendedly.

Larissa looks up from your chest to meet your gaze, "good morning darling."

"Good Morning my love." You replied.

She moves and gives you a good morning kiss.

"Good Morning indeed." You quipped.

She chuckled and kissed your cheeks before she bury her face in your neck.

You stayed cuddled for more than an hour before you both decided to go have breakfast.

The cold wind blows through the afternoon.

You both shift closer to each other and hold hands tighter to get warm. You gaze at the sky as you stroll down the park, and then you look at Larissa, who is already gazing at you.

You grinned and blush. "Enjoying the view?" You asked.

She answered, "I very much am."

You walked some more for a few minutes until you found an empty bench to sit on.

When you sit down, Larissa let go of your hand, but before you could miss the warmth she wraps her hand around you. "Better?" She asked.

You look up at Larissa and she leaned closer so you could kiss. You both hummed at the feeling and from the warmth the kiss emanates. "Best." You answered.

Less than an hour of comfortable silence passed, and you speak, "we should get back home, or else we'll freeze to death."

You look at Larissa and see a smirk plastered on her face. Larissa declares, "I'm already home."

It made you grin widely and blush profusely. "You know what I mean." You replied.

"You're my home too." You declared just before you went into the house.

You sat on the sofa and got comfortable. Larissa sets a hot chocolate in front of you before she sits down beside you. You both snuggle closer to each other.

---

Larissa's laughter and shrieks can be heard from afar as you chase her on the shore. She shrieked and laughed some more when you finally caught her.

"You can't run from your destiny honey... it is written in the stars that you-- should apply my sun screen baby." You quipped.

Larissa chuckled, "you're so silly-- and dramatic... I love it."

You went under your umbrella, and Larissa applied sun screen on you... while breathing heavily on your ear.

You gulp and breath deeply. If she plan on getting you all hot and bothered it's definitely working.

"Close your eyes." Larissa commanded.

You look around you and gulped, "here?" You asked.

Larissa nodded to confirm, so you did.

After a minute of closing your eyes, you decide to peek a little, and then you see Larissa running off into the ocean. You chuckled to yourself and shook your head from side to side.

"Darling come on." Larissa shouted as the waves hit her body.

You shouted back as you ran to her, "seriously?"

When you got near to Larissa, she splashed water on your face.

"Oh my god." You try to cover your face with your hands because she keeps splashing on you. When you get closer to her, you lift her up and you let both of your bodies fall into the water.

After more than an hour of playing and swimming in the ocean; you both sat side by side on the shore watching the skyline.

Larissa admired the view and complimented it, "It's so beautiful."

"Indeed." You agreed while your eyes fixated on Larissa's side profile as she glows under the sun.

She moved to look at you, and then she realised what you mean, and it made her blush.

You give her a quick peck on the lips.

You and Larissa watched the sunset. Larissa's hands wrapped around you, and you can feel the warmth of her chest on your back.

It's dark now... and there's nobody else but the two of you. You stand up and begin to strip.

Larissa eyes widen because of your action, "what are you doing?" Larissa stands up and looks around the beach and tries to cover you with her body.

"What do you think I'm doing?" You had a devilish grin on your face, "come on, baby. It's just the two of us now-- plus you know you want to." You ran off into the ocean.

Larissa stripped bare and quickly followed you.

----

Larissa regularly receive bouquets with a letter that sometimes consists a poem or something simple such as "I miss you." Or "I love you." She collects these letters, and stores them in her desk drawer, for when she wants to read them again.

Some of these letters are:

Your eyes reminds me of the stars

And when you look at me

I feel as if

I'm the center of the universe

But when you smiled at me

I am humbled and I know

You are the universe

All the music in the world

And your laughter by far

Is my favorite of all

I never once thought of forever

But your embrace made me think

And I thought even forever wouldn't be enough

Can't wait to be blessed

By your presence

My goddess I thank you

For giving me essence

On the other hand, Larissa would leave you little treats to find around the house. Every time you open the fridge or the cabinets, you will find treats that she had left for you.

Sometimes, you would find your favourite ice cream flavour, favourite cookies, or brownies. Rings or necklaces that she thinks you'll really like, and some other things that pits a smile on your face.

Most of the time when Larissa gets home, she has brought you your favourite food from your favourite restaurant. Which made you all giggly, and in turn makes Larissa happy.

-----

You heard the door open then shut. "Baby you home?" You stood up from the sofa and you see Larissa sauntering to you and smiling.

You hugged each other tightly. "I am now." She answered.

You smile, then you kiss her forehead, down to the tip of her nose, and finally to her lips, which lingers longer than the first two kisses.

You both simultaneously sigh contendedly matched by a smile on your faces.

After having dinner and asking each other about the other's day, you went to clean up. While you wash the dishes, Larissa dries them.

And when you finish washing the dishes, you dry your hands and hug Larissa from behind as she dries the rest of the dishes. She leans and hums in your embrace.

When she finished drying the dishes. You cuddled on the sofa, then binge watch your favourite show. After finishing at least three episodes, you both fall asleep in each other's embrace.

The T.V. that is still playing in the background wakes you up. You reach with your free hand for the remote to turn it off. You softly caress Larissa's back while she lies on top of you to wake her. "Hey, baby, we have to go to bed." You whispered softly.

Larissa hummed.

When you got to bed, Larissa quickly spooned you, and you both quickly fell back to sleep.

Every happy and hurtful moment that Larissa had with you flashed in her mind. How she completely went feral when she dreamed about you cheating on her and how you would tease her about freely now. A tear rolls down her cheek...

"You alright ma'am?" The clerk asked.

"I am," Larissa sniffles. "I think I found the perfect ring to propose my longtime girlfriend with." She added with a smile.

Larissa had realised that there's nobody like you. And she'll always be grateful that you never turn her away, so she thinks she has to marry you.

You never thought you'd want to marry someone or ever be married. So this is a shock and a surprise for you.

"I'll take this one." You said to the clerk as you point to the ring that you think would be perfect for Larissa.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x you #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x female reader #sapphic #lesbian #wlw #x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems fluff

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amysteryspot · 2 years

Text

Reading me | J.H.

Summary: There's a girl in the bar interested in Jay and he fully intends to take her home.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Female Reader

Fandom: Chicago PD

Prompt: “You look so cool when you're reading me.” from Halsey's prompt list (Room 93)

Request by @runnning-outof-time here

Word count: 753

A/N: First time writing for Jay. Thanks K for requesting, it feels good writing for our boy. Hope he's not OOC and that you all enjoy it.

Loosely inspired in High by Sleeping Wolf (there's some lines of the song inside the fic because this was supposed to end up in smut but I became too worried if I was writing Jay right)

Jay sipped his beer while smiling to himself. He had been observing the woman at the other side of the bar, taking notice that every once in a while she would sneak a glance at him, averting her gaze quickly if their eyes met. She was either shy or a very good actress, but Jay would bet on the first.

Her friends were giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls when they noticed that he had noticed her, and it was then that Jay decided to make a move.

Careful not to catch her friend's attention, he crossed the bar and sat at the stool next to hers, delighted by her reaction when she turned around to get another drink and spotted him there.

“You’re either playing coy with me or you’re really oblivious to your own actions.”

She blushed, looking down while playing with the empty glass resting on the counter.

“And you’re either really perspective or just too cocky to come here and say that to someone you don’t even know.”

“Jay,” he extended his hand to her.

She looked at him and then at his hand before taking it. He brought her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it and making her giggle.

“(Y/N).”

“Beautiful name.”

“Is it,” she asks, eyebrow raised.

“What? You don’t believe me?” He laughs, waving to the bartender and asking him to refill their drinks. “You’re a beautiful girl, with a beautiful name.”

She smiled at his flirting, trying to hide her amusement by resting her chin on her hand.

“And a beautiful smile.”

“Cheesy,” she accuses and Jay puts one of his hands on his chest in faux hurt.

“You wound me,” he mocks. “And now I know that you are, indeed, shy and not playing coy,” he takes a sip of his beer and watches as she observes him with a playful smirk on her lips. “At least not entirely.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, first, you have been eyeing me since you arrived, but every time you saw me looking back, you would avert my gaze,” he takes a step closer to her, noticing how she shivered at the proximity. “Then, when I arrived here you tried to redirect the subject, making it about me instead of you so I wouldn’t notice that you’re nervous.”

“And, let me guess, you’re the reason I’m nervous,” she mocks, sipping her drink.

“See? You’re redirecting again, which proves my point.”

(Y/N) looks away from him, averting eye contact.

Jay smirks to himself before continuing.

“You’re clearly interested in me, but you’re not making a move because you’re waiting for me to do it.” He leans in to whisper in her ear, “even though your friends seem to have noticed it long before you did.”

She turns around to search for her friends only to notice them at the other side of the bar, just watching them.

“Traitors,” (Y/N) murmurs, more to herself than to him, making him smile.

“Anything else,” she asks, turning to face him again.

“You’re hiding something,” Jay watches her smile waver. “A bad breakup, maybe.”

“Or maybe a boyfriend,” she suggests, a little more confident.

“Nah, I don’t believe that. You don’t seem like a cheater.”

“You know what, you look so cool when you’re reading me.”

“Am I reading you right?”

“Maybe,” she plays along.

“Then, maybe, we could get out of here,” he offers, waiting for her reaction.

She laughs, sipping her drink again.

“I really thought that you were promising, but I see you’re just like all the others.”

“No, I’m not, sweetheart,” he guarantees, fingers brushing her cheek. “I’m gonna take my time with you. Make you feel the way you know you should.”

He watches as she takes in a deep breath and smirks, satisfied at the visible goosebumps on her arms.

“There’s a lot of promises, Jay.”

“Promises that I absolutely intend to fulfill,” he stares back at her, waiting for her answer.

“Then take me out of here.”

Jay smirks, placing a couple of notes on the counter, offering her his hand, which she promptly takes.

“See, I wasn't all that wrong,” he teases, guiding her out of the bar.

“No, you weren’t,” she agrees, “but you still haven’t discovered my so-called secret.”

“The night is still young, we’ll have time for that.” He says, before leaning in to kiss her.

Jay hoped whatever secret she was keeping was more than worth the feeling of her lips on his.

MASTERLIST | JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAGLIST

#jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfic #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfic #mystery writings #amysteryspot

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mywitchcultblr · 2 years

Text

Yearning

( Akatosh x Sheogorath and one sided Sheogorath x Haskill) not edited

"Haskill... I don't feel well. " The Lord whimpered like a beaten dog, slumped on his throne with a thick blanket draped over his body. Blood seeped through the bandages which covered his empty eye socket, dripping to the marble floor. Divine blood of a God... Holy... Beautiful.

Haskill licked his parched lips, took a deep breath before he approached the throne. The chamberlain's expression remained neutral and unreadable as he touched Sheogorath's bony shoulder with a gentle hand, eyes softened.

"My Lord... Shall I summon the suicidal quartet? Perhaps their song and despair might cheer you up a little bit? Or would you like—"

Sheogorath snarled, yanking himself away from Haskill's touch and curled up into a ball.

"I don't need anyone! I don't need anything! I wanted him! Him! If you wanted to make me happy, go to fucking Aetherius and bring that fucking golden worm here."

Haskill straightened his posture, a subtle hint of displeasure etched upon his features.

"My Lord, I don't think it would be wise to provoke the aedra even further."

Sheogorath stood up from his throne, pacing around the room like a caged, restless predator. Blood still dripping from those empty eye sockets, leaving behind a trail of crimson.

"How dare he! How dare, " the mad god paused for a moment and brought a hand to his mouth, stifling another sob that threatened to spill forth from his lips— again. "There's no way that he was serious with breaking up with me right? No... No... There's no way! Not when we have a child together. What would poor Freja do if her divine fathers couldn't get along?"

Haskill immediately went to his master's side, holding Sheogorath in his arms with a firm grip as the madgod babbled incoherently about how much he worshipped and adored that accursed golden dragon. The chamberlain's firm grip around Sheogorath's shaking frame tightened at the mere passing thoughts of Akatosh.

"H-he said that I'm insufferable. "

"I can assure you that you are not, My Lord. "

"He w-was disgusted by what I did to those pathetic mortals. I-I mean who cares about some stupid mortals right? But he yelled at me and cursed me! Me! The love of his eternal life! I don't get it... I-I don't. "

"It seems like the Almighty God of Time is not that wise? Surely a divine shouldn't have treated their beloved so poorly over the death of a mere a hundred thousand mortals. A God such as Akatosh could create hundred thousands more creations but none of them will ever compare nor replace you... My Lord."

Sheogorath buried his tear stained face into Haskill's broad chest and nodded. The madgod brought his hand towards the ruined bandages but Haskill gently pry it away.

"Please don't tear out your eyes again. You don't deserve to feel such an agonizing pain. It is not worth it. You deserve to be happy."

It was not worth it to hurt yourself for him.

Haskill... Sweet Haskill... Loyal chamberlain and servant of Sheogorath pressed a gentle kiss upon his master's dewy brow.

Sheogorath allowed such a blatant display of physical affection between them as along it was platonic. You are adorable, Haskill. But I can't betray my man... It'll be scandalous, no?

Platonic... Haskill scoffed bitterly.

"Do you think he'll be back?" Sheogorath asked, his voice was hoarse from hours worth of ranting and screaming. Haskill brushed aside a strand of silver hair from his master's face.

The chamberlain cupped that beautiful face with both hands. "He will. I'm sure that Akatosh was not serious about breaking up with you. It will be incredibly foolish of him to let go such an exemplary partner such as yourself. Lord Sheogorath." Exemplary... Beautiful... Perfect.

Sheogorath sighed, and then nodded with a wide grin. "You are right... He'll be crawling back to me. Like usual. Akatosh will never ever left me. No one can love him like I do. "

"Indeed, you love him more than anything." Sheogorath closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief as he melted in Haskill's safe and warm embrace. The chamberlain warped his arms even tighter around his beloved master while his eyes staring at the glass dome above them, glaring at the heaven with such intensity.

You don't deserve him...Dragon God

( @average-crazy-fangirl just an experiment, opinion?)

#sheogorath #akatosh #one sided haskill x sheogorath #akasheo #martin septim #hero of kvatch #tes #tesblr #angst #hurt/comfort #skyrim #oblivion #yup #aedra #daedric prince

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maironsbigboobs · 1 year

Text

A fill for @silmkinkmeme:

Stress Relief

Rated E, Idril/Tuor, No Archive Warnings Apply, 1.5k

“You were looking for me?” She arched an eyebrow as she leant back against him, enjoying the solid warmth of his chest. “I always am.” Tuor’s chuckle reverberated through his chest and through her. Idril sighed. - Tuor makes sure Idril relaxes.

Idril sat at her loom.

It was slow work. Her hands were not dextrous, fingertips long numbed by cold. It had taken much effort and many tutors to learn to weave at all, and in the length of time that it took for her to do one piece, another weaver might have finished twice as many. She stood, kicked the loom in frustration – at least the lack of feeling in her feet was beneficial for venting her annoyance - and wandered to her window, smoothing her dress before stepping out onto the balcony. Some air would calm her.

Weaving wasn’t the true cause of her mood. Her stresses were innumerable; there was her wedding to plan, her duties to the city, the waves of dark mood that came of her for no reason at all. It seemed now, when she would most like to be joyful and carefree, that every single lord of the city had some complicated but meaningless dispute to bring to her, or to her father, who inevitably asked for her advice along with her cousin’s. The slow progress of the wedding cloak she was weaving for Tuor was just the latest of her problems.

“I thought I might find you out here, my lady.”

She startled at the sound of his voice; usually Tuor’s coming was easy to hear, his steps heavy to her ears, even his breathing loud. But she had been so lost in her thoughts that it was not until her fiancé’s strong arms slid around her waist that she realised he had found her.

“You were looking for me?” She arched an eyebrow as she leant back against him, enjoying the solid warmth of his chest.

“I always am.” Tuor’s chuckle reverberated through his chest and through her.

Idril sighed.

“If you would rather be alone, my dearest lady, I – “

“No.” She quieted him with her hand on his arm. “I am only a little stressed, that is all. You comfort me.”

Tuor was quiet for a moment, still holding her, his head nestled against her shoulder. Then his hand sank lower, dancing lightly over her groin.

“I could help you relax, my lady.”

“Could you now, Lord Tuor?”

“Indeed,” he purred in her ear, “I would have you here on your balcony, I would taste you, torment you, drive you so mad with pleasure you can spare no thoughts for anything else.”

“Who is stopping you?”

Tuor laughed, and turned her in his arms, pushing her back against the high metal rail.

It was a scandalous scene, she thought. Anyone might look up to see them, and yet, she was not afraid. No, it made her heart race, sparking like one of her cousin’s gas lamps in her chest – let them see how well Tuor loved her. She did not care.

He sank to his knees before her, pushing her skirts up over her hips. Sometimes, they still lit candles and sang hymns for the Valar, old Vanyarin songs that echoed in empty halls. This was an act of worship far more meaningful. His hands, rough and calloused and strong, slid up her thighs, teasingly light until he reached her hips, holding her firmly in place. He held her legs apart.

“Relax, my lady.” How could she, when his every touch set her aflame? Tuor pressed a line of kisses up her thigh, his beard delightfully rough against her skin.

“Allow me to take care of you. Ah,” He laughed softly, “Already wanting, princess?”

He flicked her wet folds with his tongue, taunting, groaning at the taste of her. Idril reached to wind her fingers in his hair, but he batted her hand away. Tuor sunk his face between her thighs. Her grip on the rail behind her tightened.

“Oh, my Tuor…”

He teased her, circling her clit with his tongue, the pressure not quite enough. She ached for him, burned for him; the short months until they were wed stretched on endlessly. Then, she could have him in her bed, and in her, and no one could separate them.

But she could think of her longing no more, for Tuor pulled away, beard slick with her arousal. She whined.

“Easy, princess.” His thumb circled her entrance, pressing inside her ever so slightly – she clenched around him in response, as if she could draw him in.

“By the stars, you are beautiful like this.” He pressed two fingers inside her, crooking them just so, and Idril flung her arm over her mouth to muffle her wail as she ground down against him. “So eager for me, so beautiful; you are like silk in my arms. You are the sun made flesh.”

“T-Tuor, my T-Tuor…” She arched off the railing as he brought his mouth to her folds again. The heat building in her stomach grew, the pressure inside her almost painful in its urgency. So close! Another moment, and -

“Tuor!”

“You are still thinking.” He chided, as he knelt back on his haunches and hooked one of her legs over his shoulder. Slowly, oh, so terribly slowly, he kissed her ankle, then her calf, every inch of skin, creeping gradually up her leg. She throbbed for him, but he ignored her in favour of more sweet kisses along her thigh – he nipped the soft, full flesh there and she gasped, squirming.

Idril pushed herself further back on the railing, unafraid of falling, and tugged open the front of her dress and her stays, so her heaving breast could be free. She was flushed down her chest, a bright contrast to the green of her gown.

“Tuor, I want you.” She was used to demanding, but he only laughed as he leaned in to devour her again.

Again and again, he brought her to the edge, with his mouth, with his fingers, both together. Always, he knew when she was close, and pulled back, to worship the smooth skin of her thighs or her stomach with light and fleeting kisses.

“My princess,” he crooned, as he let her come down from the last high. “My clever princess. Is your mind at peace now, my love?”

Idril could only moan softly in response, arching her hips towards him. This must have been a satisfactory answer, because his mouth was on her again, his tongue against her clit, taunting her with pressure just as he knew she liked. His fingers, three of them, sank into her easily, stroking her inside, stretching her, and Idril bit into her own arm as she pressed back against him, slick and hot. This time he did not pull away, and the pressure inside her built to a crescendo, until all at once it burst inside her, white-hot pleasure overcoming her. Her head fell back, eyes closed and body stiffening and clenching as she came with a muffled scream of his name, her mind blissfully blank of all but this.

As she came down from the high, trembling and weak-limbed, Tuor gathered her in his arms, pulling her dress from her fully and laying her down on it, murmuring soothing praise to her beauty, to her mind, to the pleasure she gave him. She opened her eyes again and looked at him, thinking of his pleasure at last. His face was flushed, eyes dark and full of desire, his beard wet with her orgasm. Idril reached out and pulled him close. She kissed him, tasting herself.

“My lady,” His voice broke a little – she noticed the wet stain on the front of his trousers as he freed himself from them – he had spilled once already just watching her. “I want – may I...”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

Then he was above her, sliding into her, and they groaned in unison; there was nothing so fulfilling for them as this closeness. For a moment, all was still.

And Tuor was pounding into her. She was boneless still from her orgasm, and only moaned and panted beneath him as he chased his pleasure, watching and drinking in the love and desire in his face, adoring the way the hair on his chest and at his groin rubbed against her skin in sweet friction. If he ever dared to remove it, she decided then, she would threaten to refuse to lay with him until it grew back (although she doubted that she would keep such a resolve).

She could see his climax drawing rapidly near, he had been so close from just watching her, and she could feel it in the fledgling bond between them, his lust and pleasure seeping into her in little flashes. Tuor sank a hand between them to rub furiously at her clit, fingers slippery but determined, and she clenched around him and came again, shuddering. He followed, pulling out just in time to spill over her stomach. Her name fell from his lips like a prayer.

They lay on the ground in shared silence, as his seed dried on her skin, their fingers linked together as they gazed up at the afternoon sky. Idril felt the power of movement slowly returning to her, and she rolled onto one elbow to gaze at Tuor instead, brushing his hair from his flushed face.

“So, my lady,” he said after a moment, grinning back at her. “Are you still stressed?”

She laughed.

“I can hardly remember what I was thinking about at all.”

#idril #tuor #idril/tuor #silmkinkmeme #nsft #my fic

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dcbbw · 2 years

Text

Breach

This story is presented without commentary except to say any and all mistakes are mine.

Riley, Liam, Bastien, and Mara belong to Pixelberry. The children are mine.

Song Inspiration: Enemy, Imagine Dragons

Word Count: 3,466

The sumptuous yet simplistic bedroom was quiet and lit only by a bedside table lamp. A bare-chested King Liam Rys smiled affectionately at the infant with his features laying in his arms; Prince Theodore Edmund Antonius Rhys, nicknamed BB for Baby Boy by his parents and siblings, blinked sleepily in return as he continued to feed from the bottle his father held in one hand.

They sat in an antique wooden rocking chair that Riley had fed and rocked the twins in, and Liam’s mother Eleanor had rocked and fed him in. Indeed, legend had it that the chair dated back to the reign of Queen Kenna’s mother.

“My littlest Prince,” Liam murmured as he adjusted his arm to lift the child’s head nestled in the crook of his elbow. “I will defend you, your brothers, and your mother until the end of my days.” The King pulled his son closer to his skin. “I love you more than you could ever imagine.”

“Don’t let the twins hear you say that,” his wife and Queen warned in hushed tones as she entered their bedroom through the nursery’s connecting door. “They’ve become quite possessive over us since that little assassin arrived.”

“Our children are not assassins, Riley!” the King admonished.

“Oh, not all of them," she replied as she shrugged out of her robe, revealing Liam’s white silk pajama top paired with her lacy white underwear. “Just that one; the other two are ninjas.”

Liam chuckled softly as he gently pulled the nipple from his son’s mouth before placing a white cloth over his bare shoulder; he then carefully placed BB over his shoulder for the purpose of burping him. The King’s palm rubbed soothing circles against the baby’s back, alternating with soft pats.

Riley nodded towards the infant, her eyes lingering over him with a loving glance. “He tried to TAKE ME OUT, Liam and you know it!” she countered as she began turning down the beddings on their shared bed.

Although the Queen could make light of the situation now, her second pregnancy had been quite problematic: Riley’s health and the viability of the pregnancy were in constant peril. Liam said prayers of Thanksgiving every morning and night that his family was complete, intact, and healthy.

Liam rose slowly, cautiously from the chair before pacing the room, body slightly swaying as he made his way to his wife. The white silk pajama bottoms that matched the top his wife was wearing were slung low across his hips. “Francis and Jonathan are asleep?” he asked, referring to the three-year-old twins commonly known as Fric and Frac.

Riley had dropped the “k” from both nicknames to make them “more European”.

Francis, or Frac, was their firstborn, born at 11:58pm; Jonathan, known as Fric, followed three minutes later at 12:01am the following day.

She shook her head in exasperation. “No! I left those two talking to each other in their secret, world-domination language. But they’ll fall asleep soon; it’s been a full day for them.”

Riley looked up at Liam, her eyes quickly searching his face before smiling and outstretching her arms for her youngest son; Liam tenderly transferred the infant from his arms into hers. Pressing a kiss to the baby’s forehead, she cooed, “There’s my little Theodore! If I had known you were coming, I would’ve named the first two Alvin and Simon.”

The baby gurgled as she settled him on her shoulder, softly slapping his upper back. She smiled softly at feeling tiny fingers dig into the silk fabric and little legs kicking harmlessly against her. Both she and Liam laughed when their child loudly belched.

“How much did you feed him?” Riley demanded through her chuckles.

Liam jerked a thumb towards the empty bottle on the Queen’s dressing table. “The entire six ounces. He has a good appetite.”

“He’s greedy, like his daddy,” Riley responded.

“You think I’m greedy?” Liam teased, palm splayed against his chest in mock surprise.

“Who said you were his father?” she replied as her fingers experimentally felt along the 4-month-old’s bottom. “Has he been changed?” she questioned.

Liam nodded. “Right before the feeding.”

“Good,” she responded approvingly as she bent over an oversized, Wedgewood blue wooden cradle. “Grab the baby monitors and I’ll meet you in the kitchen? Gonna lay this big boy down.”

Each evening, after the twins were supposedly asleep and Liam had given BB his nightly feeding, the couple spent alone time: Evenings filled with inside jokes, bickering, briefings, updates, and random conversation. Happenstance determined where the evenings were spent: There had been terrace talks with sparkling cider for Riley and cigars for Liam; massages in bed for Riley and promises of IOUs from her to return the favor; poring over agreements, budgets, and intel in the study.

It was their time, be it as husband and wife or King and Queen. All that mattered was that they were alone. Together.

Tonight was the kitchen because earlier Riley claimed a craving for vanilla ice cream.

When she entered the scullery with her thick coils brushed back and away from her face, and wearing the pajama top which put her long, lean legs on display, Liam’s eyes slowly traveled up his wife’s body.

She still stopped him in his tracks.

Riley stood in front of the kitchen island, looking askance at two bowls of ungarnished French vanilla ice cream before raising her eyes, filled with accusation, to meet Liam’s confused expression. Rolling her eyes, she turned on her heel, marching towards the kitchen cupboards. The displeased Queen loudly set bottles of chocolate and caramel syrups in front of her bowl, along with a jar of crushed peanuts.

Liam cut his eyes at her movements. “Riley, you specifically stated vanilla ice cream.”

“KINKY vanilla,” she retorted while squeezing ribbons of chocolate over frozen, sweetened cream.

“That is not healthy,” Liam observed, somewhat heatedly. “You have our child to feed!”

“The ice cream is dairy, so that means calcium; the chocolate has magnesium; the caramel helps with the liver and anxiety, and the peanuts are protein,” the Queen glanced up at her husband with an arched eyebrow. “Any more objections?”

Liam shook his head in resignation, rummaging through the drawers for spoons.

Once the couple were settled at the island and Riley had checked the baby monitor screens for the umpteenth time, they dug their spoons into their snack. Riley was savoring her third spoonful when she glanced over, noticing the King was simply dragging his spoon over the tops of his ice cream scoops.

“Hey,” the Queen said softly. “You’ve been quiet all evening. What’s wrong?” she asked as she set her spoon in her bowl.

“Is it that obvious?” he asked with a wan smile, his gaze holding hers.

Riley shrugged. “To me.”

A pause before he answered. “The investigation concluded today, and the evidence is correct. Bastien Lykel is a member of the Via Imperii.” His tone held anger, worry, sorrow.

The Queen was unsurprised. “I never trusted him,” she stated in a tone that held the slightest trace of vindication.

“You forgave him his trespasses against you,” Liam argued as he lifted his spoon to his mouth.

“I compromised in an effort to save our marriage! You thought I was being overdramatic when I said separate bedrooms? Your defense of him after what that man did to me in service to his King? You’re both lucky I didn’t stomp mudholes in your asses.”

Riley was pouring more syrup over her ice cream when she abruptly stopped her movements, slowly setting the bottle on the table. Liam noticed; his eyes narrowed slightly, and his eyebrow arched inquisitively.

“Love, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“In. Service. To. His. King,” Riley slowly repeated before slapping her palm against the countertop. “HIS KING!” she yelled, then looked around guiltily. She hoped the twins hadn’t heard her; they would come running into the kitchen and want ice cream.

She wasn’t sharing.

“Constantine didn’t put Bastien up to the scandal!”

Liam’s brow was furrowed as he slid his seat closer to Riley’s. “Both men admitted to it, what are you talking about?”

Riley rolled her eyes. “Like anyone can believe a word Bastien says anymore.”

A spoonful of frozen treat slid between her unpainted lips. “Think about it, Liam!” Riley spoke excitedly as she clutched his hand. “Neither your father nor Regina were ever members of Via! Neither of them wore the pin, one wasn’t among his possessions, and even Via said a Rys has never deigned to join their ranks.”

She eagerly scooped more ice cream sundae into her mouth before continuing. “WHO wanted Madeleine as Queen, even before your social season? Barthelemy and Godfrey, members of Via!

“WHO’S credit card was used?? PENELOPE’S!! Emmeline was seeking to rise in both rank and favor within Via, and no way was Penelope refusing mommy dearest.

“WHO hired Sons of Earth? Again, Barthelemy!”

Liam held up a finger; Riley fell silent to allow her husband to speak.

“There is no proof that either Barthelemy or the Duke of Karlington were ever members of Via Imperii,” he pointed out. “It’s all speculation, love.”

Riley waved her arms and hands around, wavy hair bouncing about her head. “SEMANTICS! They did Via’s bidding, didn’t they?”

“But … father confessed,” Liam interrupted quietly.

“He AGREED with what you said and spouted some malarkey about the monarchy needing a show of strength. The fact remains whomever you chose, you would both be a newbie King and Queen. So maybe Via had something on him and he took the fall? In any case, Bastien’s “King” here was Eirik, the King of Hidar, NOT Constantine!”

Liam stared at his wife for a few moments before dropping his gaze to his dessert-filled bowl; his fingers combed through his thick locks of dark hair. Riley reached over, pushing the bowl just of reach. “I may want that later, and don’t need your hairs in it,” she murmured in explanation. “You shed horribly, you know that.”

Liam did not know that.

Riley picked up the baby monitors, looking between the two screens: BB was asleep, and the twins were still talking, both children in Fric’s bed. Their mother had both placed and left them each in their own bed.

She set the monitor down, then outstretched her hand. Liam took it, almost gratefully. “How are you feeling about everything?” she inquired.

Liam shook his head, a mixture of acceptance, denial, and helplessness. “I have no idea how I feel. Bastien has been a part of this family … my life since before I was even born! He … he … he helped raise Leo, me, Drake … and to find out he’s been part of the plan to dethrone the Rys line the entire time?”

His jaw clenched; his free hand fisted before harshly pounding the table. “What if he were instrumental in my assassination attempt? What if he was working with Anton and that’s why my guards didn’t arrive until after we had defeated him? They weren’t expecting to take anyone to jail … it was supposed to be US headed to the morgue!”

Riley made soothing noises while awkwardly trying to spoon ice cream into her mouth with her free hand. “Have you talked to him, Liam?”

Liam quickly shook his head. “I … have nothing to say to him at the moment.” His head lifted sharply, and his gaze fixed on Riley. “He knows every passageway, secret or not, in all of our properties. He has every password. Who knows who else is privy to this information?”

Hearing her husband’s words, Riley’s blood iced over; her stomach turned as she wondered, despite a fleet of guards, how safe were her children actually were. But she couldn’t let Liam sense her fear.

Instead, she cleared her throat. “Do Drake and Savannah know?”

Liam nodded morosely. “Drake spoke with him briefly; unsure what was said, but he left earlier this afternoon headed to Ramsford to speak with his sister.”

“And where is Bastien now?”

“Cells. He’ll be transported to Lythikos tomorrow, where he will join his cohorts Barthelemy and Anton.”

“Hmmmm,” Riley tapped an index finger against her lips. “We’re going to need to sweep the Palace, Valtoria, and Applewood for signs of infiltration. And run background and security checks on every guard Bastien personally hired. Get Rashad and his firm to help with that and ask for a discounted price.”

Liam nodded in agreement. “I have spoken to the very few guards I can trust, and …”

“Not Mara!” Riley interrupted as she pulled Liam’s dessert dish closer to her.

“What do you mean, ‘Not Mara’”? I hired her directly, and she is second in command. OF COURSE, Mara!”

Riley’s eyes were inspecting the scoops of melting ice cream, searching for tell-tale dark hairs; there were none. She began combining the ingredients of the two bowls while she spoke.

“You hired Mara for ME! From Day One, she has been MY guard. She has protected me, trained me, and I have STUCK with her. When you were snickering with Drake about how incompetent she was, when you told her she SUCKED at her job … Mara and I were a team. And I stand by my choice. I trust Mara with not only my life, but the lives of our children.”

“I have NEVER told Mara she sucked at her job! I don’t even use such language,” Liam shot back, his tone indignant.

Riley smirked. “I beg to differ with that, Your Majesty. Just this morning the word suck dominated your vocabulary.”

“THAT is reserved for YOU when we are having … relations!”

She offered her husband a spoonful of ice cream, which he accepted. “Look, Liam. You’ve been good to me. Raising my kids as if they were your own, letting me wear your clothes and Cordonia’s crown; you don’t pay rent, but your child support is up to date. I would do you a solid anytime, anywhere … but you chose Bastien even after I offered to make Mara the family guard, soooo … too bad, so sad.”

Liam’s expression was thoughtful as he verbalized an inner thought. “Maybe … just maybe he thought he was helping the Crown.”

Riley snorted in derision. “Without telling you?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, my love. IF he was doing you a favor, protecting you … why didn’t he say so? Be like, ‘Hey guys, I’m going to be doing some shady shit but no worries … I’m being a mole for this faction trying to usurp the Crown and I’ll keep you updated on their movements.’ BUT HE DIDN’T!”

Liam shook his head in exasperated frustration as he pushed away from the island. “I want a sandwich.”

“You’re going to fix it?” Riley asked in amused disbelief.

“Yes, Riley, I am. I think I am capable of making a sandwich!” he snapped.

“Iffen you say so…” his wife responded doubtfully.

“While we’re on the topic of guards and security, I’m considering appointing the Duchess of Lythikos as Head of the King’s Guard,” he announced as he rummaged in the refrigerator for food.

Riley was slurping up the last of the ice cream. “You’re WHAT?” she choked out.

“Olivia will be Head of the Guard,” Liam repeated, pulling bread, sliced turkey, mayonnaise, and lettuce from the icebox and setting it on the counter.

“Why? What qualifications does she have?”

“I trust her, for one.”

“Trust and knowledge of daggers are NOT grounds to appoint Liv to head up the most important job in this country.”

Liam looked at his wife, puzzled. “I thought you would support the decision. The Duchess is our friend, your friend.”

Now it was Riley’s turn to look puzzled. “She is! But she has no formal training. At least Mara is expertly trained in hand-to-hand combat, jiu-jitsu, and a ton of other stuff I can’t spell or pronounce!”

“Lythikan blood is warrior blood, and Olivia was trained by her parents who were two of the best fighters in the duchy’s history.”

“Lythikans are bloodthirsty! And her parents trained her to take down the Crown over twenty years ago. Say what you want, she needs to know more than how to hide a dagger.”

“She can handle one as well,” Liam pointed out.

“I’ve never seen it,” Riley said dismissively as she watched Liam attempt to make a sandwich.

What the hell is that man doing with the bread?

With a sigh, she rose from her seat to join her husband at the counter. “Move!” she hip-checked him out of the way. “You’re doing it wrong. Get me some tomato, onion, and jalapeno and slice them, please.”

Liam did as she requested.

The Queen slathered mayonnaise on the bread slices before sprinkling them with salt and pepper. Liam watched as she layered slices of meat, then onion, lettuce, tomato, and jalapeno on both pieces of bread before placing one side atop the other. Riley continued the conversation while plating the sandwich.

“This is the last I have to say on the subject:

“Strike 1: Olivia was our security at the hospital when I was pregnant with Fric and Frac; remember the journalist sneaking into our personal room and taking unauthorized photos of us, which is why we now have private medical facilities on our properties?

“Strike 2: Olivia got herself captured during a stealth operation … trying to infiltrate Via while Bastien WATCHED instead of HELPING … which she told no one about because she wants to be all secret squirrel, and we had to go rescue her!

“Lastly, Olivia has a title for a reason! She is the SOLE ruler of the country’s oldest and third largest duchy; that’s more than a full-time job alone. Something’s going to suffer if you offer her that appointment: either her people or your life. So no, Olivia will NOT be your head of anything.”

“Are you advocating for MARA to get the job?”

“Oh, HELL NO! Mara is mine, ALL MINE! In fact, consider her snatched from any type of rotation; she is now Head of the Queen and Family security detail, and you are NOT included in that.”

She bit into the freshly made sandwich before waving it in front of Liam. “Did you want a sandwich too?”

Liam snatched the food from Riley’s hand, aggressively biting into bread and meat. She held his gaze before leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips. “Hey, let’s go to bed. Tensions are high, and we could both use a good night’s sleep. We’re going to be busy the next couple of days.”

“We are?” he inquired as he chewed more of the sandwich.

“Oh, yeah! WE and Mara are going to Lythikos, Portavira, and Hidar to get to the bottom of this Via shit and find out just what role Bastien played in it.”

Liam shook his head as he offered Riley another bite. “I’m not allowing you or the children to get involved, Riley.”

“Tough tit. We’re a team, and we’re already involved,” she replied while grabbing her husband’s hand to lead him to bed.

Liam didn’t budge. “I’ll allow you to accompany me and Drake to Lythikos, only on the provision that Regina and Gladys remain here to babysit the children, and Mara guards them. You will not be going anywhere else.”

His tone and expression were serious as he and Riley held gazes.

She opened her mouth to protest but was cut off by her husband. “No, Riley. That is the only offer on the table. Take it or leave it.”

“But …”

Liam bit into the snack. “No.” His voice was quiet but the tone firm.

Riley reached out for the sandwich. “Gimme my food,” she whined petulantly.

Liam held it aloft, out of her reach. “Be nice, and I’ll share. Maybe. It’s a really good sandwich.”

“I am going to bed! ALONE!” she threatened while continuing to tug on Liam’s hand.

“I want the twins to sleep with us tonight,” Liam said through a bite of sandwich as he followed his wife into their bedroom.

Ha paused in front of the alarm system’s keypad mounted on the sleeping chamber’s foyer wall, pressing in the code to arm the royal suite. Automatic locks slid quietly into keyholes, giving the monarchs a slight sense of both security and relief.

Riley nodded in agreement at his suggestion. She needed to feel her babies close to her, breathing in their sweet smells, and kissing chubby cheeks.

The Queen plucked the sandwich from her husband’s hand as they walked through the room, stopping to tuck the infant’s blanket more securely about him before heading into the nursery.

“Your side, though. I don’t need toes in my nose when I wake up.”

Tagging: @sirbeepsalot @jared2612 @ao719 @burnsoslow @marietrinmimi @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @ac27dj @the-soot-sprite @hopelessromanticmonie @amandablink @mom2000aggie @cmestrella @iaminlovewithtrr @liamrhysstalker2020 @queenrileyrose @ladyangel70 @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @phoenixrising308 @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @foreverethereal123 @janezillow @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @jovialyouthmusic @21-wishes @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @bbrandy2002

#dcbbw writes #riam #the royal romance franchise #liam x riley

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compulsed · 1 year

Note

46﹕ sender pulls receiver out of harm’s way . (spas!marco @ beretta)

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 / 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

thin fingers curl around stiff handle of the whip, and they pull. and pull. and they pull again. the feel of braided leather bites at the skin of her palm and beretta minds it not- no. she prefers it. enjoys it. weight hangs heavy on the other side but hunter stays grounded on building's edge; chin tilts and ankles are crossed- dainty and with some leisure, she is a lady after all.

softly, she hums; it's a sweet tune she'd heard some time ago in this god forsaken cesspool of a city. a pleasant song, one that mixes and mingles with the bustle of the streets beneath her — every word, every every scream, every guttural and wrenched cry that come from down below.

whip bows again, tagged scum continues to struggle against barbs buried deep into it's neck. tag's feet dangles only inches from the ground but finds no reprieve, can't. raw fingers scratch and pull at her weapon, it cries out for help but all that escapes are strangled wailing, drowned out by own blood and teeth and tongue. what a sweet tune indeed, she thinks. despaired cries tinging pink to the apples of her cheeks.

it's no use, silly rat : once in beretta's grip, there's never more a chance to escape.

hunter's lips curl back into a smile and she flicks her wrist, whip's spine only coils tighter and tighter, tighter again! A SNAP. body at the end of her weapon falls limp and comes untangled from barbed thong and onto the ground with a thud. a pity it didn't last long, playthings always too quick to break.

gaze sweeps the alleyway below, it seems minimi and maverick are making quick work emptying the buildings and garages. no matter the nook or cranny, the hunter will always find the prey. tagged monsters run and hide and run some more — pathetic little things will never be fast enough. there's a swell of what feels like pride that blooms in beretta's chest as she watches the fellow destroyers carry out their mission with a swiftness.

feeling doesn't last long, however.

❝ HKK — ! ❞ there's a lapse in sense in which beretta suddenly sees upside down. comfort of concrete is no longer under her and she's quick to act — tucking head beneath body with legs folded to make safe landing on the back of the corpse previously dropped. so sweet of it to break her fall~

beretta looks up, the sun is especially bright today and yet. something wet hits her face- rain? no, couldn't be that . . . hand opposite to the one cradling weapon raises to block out beams above her and she squints. another body ( parts of it, anyway ) hangs right over the edge she'd previously sat. knife falls to her feet and laughter rumbles from her depths. above dead tagged was her peer, looking back down to her. so serious. so bloody.

definitely not rain, indeed.

fellow hunter offers a large wave of her arm and she's grinning again, voice firm but still so soft as she calls to him.

❝ oh, spazzy wazzy, you saved me! my knight in shining wire! ❞

#* beretta . / ic .#shinanai #violence /#death /#strangulation /#idk just in case LOL #hey spas <3

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blxckdragonfly · 2 years

Text

Powerless | Medicine Man Outtake #5

(Song: “Powerless” by Linkin Park.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort/Suicide

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Katrina “Kat” Valentine (FC: Christian Serratos)

Synopsis: It’s the anniversary of Chester Bennington’s passing and Kat is reminiscing, as well as Strange is of another sort. Co-written with @blackrose-92 and features references to Avengers: Infinity War & Endgame.

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3qUmjvOojIyGwBe56T4K28?si=f7abc972699e4d54)

I turn the page of the book I’m reading as I rest on my bed, reaching for my phone and turning on Linkin Park– I feel a slight ache in my chest when I hear Chester’s voice start to fill the room, a reminder that today is indeed July 20th and the sixth anniversary of his passing. I hear what sounds like a portal opening and closing, I pass it off thinking it’s probably Wong. I keep my focus on the book in my hand as my phone changes from “Battle Symphony” to “Powerless”.

You hid your skeletons when I had shown you mine

You woke the devil that I thought you'd left behind

I saw the evidence, the crimson soaking through

Ten thousand promises, ten thousand ways to lose…

I feel a tension outside of my bedroom, so heavy that you could cut it with a knife. I stand up after closing the book and I walk toward the door. I open it and I see Stephen, he looks completely haunted, the color drained from his face. I raised a brow.

“Stephen?” I say. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“In a sense,” Stephen’s body starts to settle from the tension. “I did.”

“How so?” I ask.

“That song that you played,” Stephen explains. “It reminded me of when I had to use the time stone to look at all the outcomes against the fight with Thanos and how there was only one way, by having Tony Stark sacrifice himself.”

A silence followed as I felt my eyes start to widen in shock as I tried to process what he just shared with me. That he was there when Tony Stark died and had a part in it. I couldn’t imagine the guilt that he carried with him because of it.

“Oh my God, I had no idea.” My voice comes out in a soft gasp as I see the emotions gracing his face and eyes-- the tears on the surface as I reached for his hand. “Tiger. You shouldn’t blame yourself though, you only did what you felt was right and Tony chose to go through with that path.”

His fingers slide through mine as I try to reassure him because it’s coming from someone who had also been dusted when it happened five years ago and how hard it was to come back to a reality that seemed like it was never going to be the same again, but it had.

And you held it all

But you were careless to let it fall

You held it all

And I was by your side, powerless

“Who wrote this song?” Stephen asks and tears fill my eyes as a twinge goes through my chest, making me choke for a second.

“Chester Bennington,” I take a breath as my voice comes out in a way that’s so hard to keep from breaking as the ache goes through my body again, the pain of his passing. “Today is the anniversary of the day that he died of suicide. His band, Linkin Park was there for me when I had lost my parents in the accident. And when this day comes and goes, my heart aches knowing that I will never be able to meet him and say thank you for it.”

Nothing could stop the flowing of tears after I spoke– I start to sob and my body starts to shake with each one that comes and goes. Stephen doesn’t say a single word and walks into the room, he reaches out to me, wrapping me up in his arms as I clutch onto him. I lay my head against his chest as his hand moves gently across my back.

I watched you fall apart and chased you to the end

I'm left with emptiness that words cannot defend

You'll never know what I became because of you

Ten thousand promises, ten thousand ways to lose

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Stephen whispers. I shake my head at him as I look up into his blue eyes.

“I’m also sorry for having Tony's memory linger over you,” I murmur, I feel his hands cup my face and his thumbs caress my jawline.

“Hey. You don’t need to apologize, Kitten,” He rests his forehead against mine. “I did what had to be done.”

And you held it all

But you were careless to let it fall

You held it all

And I was by your side, powerless...

I sniff and he places a tender kiss on my forehead as he holds me close to his body, letting his heartbeat calm my tears as he moves us so we’re laying on my bed. He rests his chin on the top of my head, running his fingers gently through my hair as I rest against his chest.

“I’ve never told you this,” I say after I’ve calmed down in his arms as my fingers run through the gray streaks of his hair and my free arm wraps around his neck. “When I was just starting out as a physical therapist, I went on my break one day and as I was walking to the cafe down the street- I ran into Mike Shinoda of Linkin Park. I walked past him on the street but I paused when I saw his face and turned around. I asked if it was him and he said his name, extending his hand for me to shake. He invited me out for coffee the next day and we both spoke of Chester.”

“Sounds like a sign that he was there that day.” Stephen keeps his arms around my waist.

“That’s what I keep telling myself when I think back to meeting Mike Shinoda,” I shrug. “Either way, if Chester couldn’t do it– I got the next best thing.”

Stephen chuckles and he kisses the top of my head as I rest against him, the pain that I once felt in my chest fading away knowing that he was there by my side.

#doctor strange #doctor strange fanfiction #stephen strange x kat valentine #stephen strange fic #medicine man #make chester proud

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thetrinitarianmystery · 28 days

Text

On Emphasizing the Out-Breath: Finding Ground

On Emphasizing the Out-Breath

Play your hunger.

Strum it like a silver chord.

Let it dance like a cool flame

round the earthen walls of

the fine ceramic vase of your body.

Relish the out-breath.

Without it there is no in-breath, no relief;

Yet it is not only an assistant but a

companion.

Let it tickle your lip and whisper to you

quiet songs of going.

Stare at darkness.

Let it fill your eyes like warm water

in an onyx bowl; and let it

bellow its vacancy, its opening.

Open your windows to let the darklight in.

And now out. -------------------------

This poem feels right on a day that can feel like the out-breath of the holiday. It's about balance, about recognizing and deeply appreciating both sides of a duality. Without the ordinary Monday, there is not the special holiday.

And yet, I mean much more than that by this poem. It points me toward something I have encountered in meditation that is very difficult to put into words, but which I'll try to explain here.

Imagine yourself sitting in meditation. It's an unguided meditation—just you, sitting with your eyes closed. You are focusing on your breath, until your mind wanders toward narrating the fact that you are focusing on your breath. Okay, back to the breath. Then you notice a pain in your knee. The way you're sitting is straining it a little. Okay, practice self-compassion: you adjust your posture, and then you continue. Now you feel your chest rising and falling. You notice your rib cage, and you feel the bones in your leg. There's still a little resistance from your knee. Focus back on the breath. Feel how it tickles your upper lip as you breathe out.

You get the idea.

But notice in each moment how much you are not noticing. Of course, you can't really do this while you are in the act of noticing. To notice what you're not noticing is in a sense impossible, because as you scan for things that you aren't noticing they become the noticed. Yet at each moment, there is a background of the unnoticed against which the noticed takes form. While you are staring at the darkness behind your eyes, observing a mental model or image of your own ribs, it is surround by not-ribs—by a darkness and space against which it stands in contrast.

That space is sometimes called the "Ground of awareness." It's like a background of emptiness in your subjective experience, against which particular appearances arise. Your eyes don't need to be closed to notice it (or, perhaps more accurately, to acknowledge that you are noticing against it or relative to it), though in my experience it does help. The Ground is always present, as long as appearances are present. They are two sides of the same coin.

It is the punchline of many spiritual journeys to realize (in a deeply embodied, intuitive sense) that you are One with that Ground of awareness. Indeed, you can identify with it. You are continuous with this Ground of potentiality, continually arising from it in your conceptual renderings and then diffusing back into it.

You are the negative space as well as the positive presence, interdependently—the out-breath of background emptiness as well as the in-breath of appearance and narrative.

This may sound nonsensical unless or until you have experienced it for yourself, in which case it will make perfect sense.

This realization, in tandem with cognitive behavioral therapy and medication, has been invaluable for me in living with anxiety. My own anxiety is marked by an over-identification with the appearances in awareness, with taking appearances too earnestly that deserve equanimous distance and doubt or scrutiny. Identification with Ground moves the locus of identification from the appearances themselves to the watcher, or the watching, of the appearances.

This is a sort of deathless state where nothing can fundamentally touch me. There is nothing that needs to be done in this state. Insofar as I am identified with Ground, I don't need to be smart, I don't need to be funny, I don't need to be liked. In fact, I cannot be other than I am: encompassing, noticing, becoming and un-becoming.

And yet, from identification with Ground arises a new sort of authenticity and self-expression. This is the authenticity of not trying to be anything in particular. It is to expand my worldview to realize that I am not only as I appear to myself (though this is part of my totality), but that I am also that nebulous [ ] to which and out of which anything appears at all.

It is not ultimately my goal to convince anyone of anything here. But I offer these reflections in case they might be helpful for your own mental well-being as they have been for mine.

Thanks for reading!

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#anxiety #Buddhism #meditation #self-help #spirituality #poem #poetry

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daidoruyume · 1 year

Text

Chapter 11 We can always meet in our dreams… but I anxiously want more!

I was there. In the same festival we once met.

"You're here!" She was so happy to see me. I ran to her arms, and she hugged me. I guess I couldn't contain myself. I'm pretty sure tears were falling.

"If only these dreams were real…" I cried against her chest. "Then maybe you would know how tight I want you to hold me." It was a rather quiet dream, and we just stayed there, in each other's embrace. I was wrapped in her arms and she was wrapped in mine, and we both shed tears of love and some misery we felt. Wishing my words reached her somehow, I didn't let go until I woke up for that Tuesday.

☆☆☆

I had left work early that day, since my last class was dismissed. I did my usual route, it was so quick and close, but suddenly, a black car stopped in front of me.

It was pretty uncommon to have cars in that area, and I was a little scared. The window opened and I could see a woman that had… foreign… looks? She had blonde hair and tattoos all over her, and a huge pair of sunglasses.

"Is that her?" She asked someone who was on her side. That woman… I knew her! The staff from that day.

"Y-yes!" She replied quite shyly. Really, that woman looked like an 80's high school delinquent! She was scary.

"You." She pointed (without hesitating) at me. "Get in the car!"

That scared me for life, so I started running. Now, I wasn't a runner. Really. My body wasn't made for that. I was a little overweight, so it definitely felt hard. She was… following me? What the hell?! Also, the streets looked EMPTY. No one could save me. Suddenly, I felt her hands grab my arm.

"Please let go of me!" I cried. Was I too lucky and now I was going to die?

"Stop that! I want to talk to you!"

"I-I'm not the one you're looking for! I swear, I didn't do anything wrong."

"Shut up! Listen!" I turned around to see her face, and she took off her sunglasses. "I'm Hiyo." I looked at her a little troubled. "I'm Miyuu's mom." She pulled me by my wrist to the car, opened the door and made me enter it.

It took me a while to realize what was happening, but soon she was driving, taking me to an unknown location.

☆☆☆

"Mom, for the love of God, you didn't have to kidnap her!" That was Miyuu's voice, I was certain. Well… it did indeed feel like I was kidnapped.

From the car, I was brought inside a house and asked to wait in a room. They gave me a glass of water and even offered me tea, but I just politely declined. I overheard their conversation and soon, two slight knocks on the door. It opened and then closed. I saw Miyuu in front of me once again.

"Hi… first of all, I'm sorry for scaring you. My mom isn't the best at doing things in a human way."

"T-that's okay."

"So, you listened to the song?"

"Y-yes!" Whenever I was with her, I felt like a little girl who could barely use words.

"And did that make you remember anything?" She didn't wait for my answer. "If that didn't make you remember it, then this will." She handed me a picture. It was the picture we took that day… I've been wanting to see this picture for years!

Miyuu was assertive, but still had some shyness to her.

"Again, I'm really sorry for the way I decided to deal with things, but… I've been searching for you for a long time. I… I didn't even know your name before… it hurt so much." I looked at her while she said all of those things. "I've read your countless posts and letters, I've listened to you confess me your love in all of those times we met, but you don't know how much I love you." I was speechless. "N-not only that, but, please… remember me, and love me! Not just my idol self, but all of me." She begged me with shiny eyes.

I always thought that "being loved" wouldn't happen easily for me. First of all, I wasn't like most girls. I looked different, being overweight. Second of all, I liked girls. It wouldn't be easy to be in a relationship, but there are so many obstacles. And now… my favorite idol, who turns out to be the girl I once met and was certainly my first love, is confessing her love to me…? WHAT IS HAPPENING???

I couldn't believe my eyes and my ears, to be honest. I had so many vivid dreams, couldn't this also be one? I pondered for a few seconds, and realized it was true. Miyuu wanted an answer, right? I took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. Once again, I look deeply into her eyes.

"All I know is that I love you. And I want nothing but your happiness. I can't think of a world where I don't exist solely to love you with all my heart and soul. I think of you so much that I dream of you everyday… so even when I'm not awake, you're in my mind." I could have done better, but that's what I managed to say. I was waiting for anything, but the words she had told me.

"So, will you go out with me?" I felt like I had reached Nirvana or some other thing like that. I didn't know why the hell Miyuu was choosing me, but I obviously said a Ioud and clear "Yes".

Miyuu had taken me by surprise, but I would never deny that. Like… it would be so stupid to do that. There was a catch, though.

Rule number 1: It is prohibited to tell anyone we are dating.

Rule number 2: No outdoor dates.

Rule number 3: Dating can't obfuscate her career.

"Are you okay with that?" She looked like a puppy. A very small one.

"It's tough… But I'd do anything for you, Miyuu."

"I'm glad, then." So, with that, we were officially dating. Miyuu and I! I really wanted to tell Kaho, but I promised I wouldn't. God…

"We can't really go out on a date, but we can hang out here. And I have your phone number, so I'll message you everyday. I don't have to tell you to not disclose my personal information, number and messages, right?”

"O-of course. Wait, how do you have my number?"

"You wrote it in a letter you sent."

"God, now that is embarrassing." Miyuu laughed kindly.

"Also, as promised… Here is your copy of our photo." She handed me the small item.

"Thank you. I will cherish it."

We talked about our lives. All that has happened since the first time we met. We asked and answered questions. We spent hours talking, and then Miyuu was called. She had to leave. It saddened me, but she promised me we would meet the next day, and that she would introduce me to the girls. Before I left, though, she asked if she could kiss me. How could I ever say no to that?

Miyuu came closer, and wrapped her arms around my waist. I raised my hands, and wrapped them around her neck. I was tip-toeing since she was considerably taller, but it all felt so magical. Pure, pure happiness was what I felt when her lips touched mine. We said "goodbye", and soon, I was home once again. With the feeling I had completely won in life.

I had eaten and showered, kinda forgotten about life, when I received a message.

did you arrive home safely? ☺️

I miss you already

my dear Yuu-chan

Oh. That was right… My favorite idol, who appeared in my dreams nonstop, was now my girlfriend!

#daidoruyume

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trumanlilac · 2 years

Text

/ / c h a p t e r - e i g h t / /

The place screamed havoc. In one corner was a girl doing lines, another corner was a guy standing at a keg. It was loud, the music was so loud it rang through my ears and I could feel it in my chest. Some sort of rap music, old American rap music...if I was right, it was Tupac. The place was a complete mess nonetheless. Matty pushed his way through the crowd, looking back to make sure I was still behind him.

"ARE YOU LOOKING FOR SOMEONE?" I shouted over the music.

He turned around, "YEAH!"

Well that helped. I expected him to at least tell me who.

I felt someone push me, I looked beside me uncomfortably, some guy with a beer can in his hand, over excited about the song and grooving over to some girl wearing almost nothing at all. I grabbed onto the back of Matty's coat.

"MAN! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" He stopped at a guy in sunglasses...I remembered when Matty wore his sunglasses when there was no sun out...is this something they just...do...here? I smiled to myself, looking at the guy.

He took his sunglasses off and looked at me, "is she yours?"

Matty leaned his head back, "is she mine, what do you mean is she mine?" He laughed, "she's not property."

I laughed too, I loved the way his accent neglected the pronunciation of the T's in words.

The guy laughed, "well if she's not let me know." He winked at me playfully. I began to feel uncomfortable, pushing my hair back and looking away. Oh no, what if he thinks you're trying to look sexy for him or something, don't touch your hair!

"Ha, ha..." Matty said sarcastically, "got what I want?" He asked.

The guy nodded, looking around and placing a small plastic bag into his hand. Matty looked at it, so did I. I couldn't quite tell what it was. And there as there were so many different smells in the air of alcohol, pot, food, and sweat, I couldn't make it out before he shoved it into his pocket and slipped him some money.

"Cool." He gave him an awkward looking bro hug.

"Don't tell anyone you got it from me, I'm all out I saved the best for last." He pointed at Matty.

Matty nodded, placing his hand on my back as we walked away from him. I looked up at him, "what was that?"

He moved his hand as we stepped into an area more free of people, "you do smoke, don't you?" He asked.

"Uh..."

"It's just weed." He laughed.

"Oh. Psh...yeah." I lied, this was my second time lying to him. I felt ridiculous.

"Let's go smoke this then." He showed me the bag, it was pot indeed.

I followed him outside to the patio, it was almost empty minus a few couples making out. I zipped my jacket up, looking around. He went over to a bench, pulling out joint paper.

"Sit down." He said, looking up at me as I stood over him. I did as he said, he laughed, "if you want to I meant. Sorry I didn't mean to tell you what to do."

I smiled, "it's okay, I wanted to...who's house is this?" I asked.

"The lad I just got this from." He said, concentrated. I watched him break up the weed into the paper and throw the stems. The aroma was so strong, I felt like I could get high just by smelling it.

I remember the time I did get high in the past...it was fun I guess. I laughed, I ate, and I was fine. I tried to convince myself that it would be the same way, just with different company. But somehow I began to want to back out...but backing out wouldn't have been a smart move at all, especially since I'd already given him a hard time about coming inside in the first place...don't make him tired of you already and you've only just met.

He finished up the joint, rolling it up and licking the paper. He took a lighter out of his pocket and lit the joint, holding it up to his mouth. I watched him closely, the way he closed his eyes with it up to his mouth...the way his hair blew slightly in the breeze...I laughed at how over dramatic I'd felt about him...this isn't a movie, the wind is blowing, his hair is moving, whoopty doo. I suddenly laughed, he looked at me as he inhaled the smoke. He held it in for a quick moment.

"Sorry." I said.

"What are you laughing at?" He asked, blowing the smoke out and puffing it one more time.

"Nothing." I smiled and shrugged.

He handed the joint over to me. I took it, it was still lit. I held it up to my mouth, hesitantly. He watched me, it made me feel even more nervous. I took a puff, a little too hard of one...the back of my throat ached, I coughed all of the smoke out before I could hold it in. He raised his eyebrows, watching me.

This shit happened to me every time. I'd choke, die, and not even be asked if I'm okay or need water. I was instantly reminded of high school back home in California.

I puffed it one more time, my eyes low...not because I was high yet, but because of all the smoke in my face. This time I didn't cough, I passed it back to him, holding it in.

I already felt something. I guess because I hadn't gotten high in a long time, or either because this was the most effective weed I've ever smoked...not that I've smoked a lot.

He took his hits, I exhaled the smoke and tried to restrain from shivering.

"So why do you live with your father?" He asked, passing it back to me.

"I'm going to university soon...I wanted to travel." I said, taking another hit.

He nodded, "why such a late start? If you don't mind me asking."

I turned to him, blowing the smoke in his face on accident, he smiled, his eyes growing smaller and tighter, he laughed softly.

"I'm sorry," I turned my head, which felt like it was going in a swooshing motion with every movement...as if I was on a roller coaster or something. Yep, I was high... "um, what did you ask me again?" I asked, taking another hit.

"Why such a late start?" He asked.

I passed it back to him as it went smaller in my hand, "I uh..." you're not eighteen, you're not eighteen... "I....I..." I couldn't focus. My mind wouldn't shut up, I kept thinking all these different things at once, "I dunno." I shrugged.

He blew his smoke in my face back, smiling, I laughed and pushed him softly, "hey."

"I think I've had enough." I said, trying to contain my thoughts and slow them down. I suddenly could hear my heart beating, hear it...not just feel it...but hear it. I took a deep breath.

"Alright." He said, finishing it off.

"Do you ever feel...a little...nervous when you're high?" I asked.

"No. I feel good." He looked at me, "are you alright?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine I was just...making conversation." I laughed as if it were the funniest thing I'd ever said or heard myself say. He just looked at me, chuckling.

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

As the party went on I just began to feel confused, alone, and paranoid...I missed my dad...for the first time ever...I missed my mom, I missed my friends. I wanted so bad to call them, any of them...even the ones I didn't necessarily leave on good terms with. Images of my house back home came to my mind, my old school, and the areas we'd hang out in...

Matty looked at me as I finally came back to earth...it felt like I had jumped back into my body exactly where I had left it before I went into deep thought. I'd never felt like this before...

"What kind of weed was that?" I asked.

"...regular." He said, "you are so baked." He sat up, looking at me and cackling.

"Why do you say that?" I touched my face, feeling as if there were something on it that he was laughing at.

"You just sat here...for what," he looked at the time on his phone, "almost ten minutes....in the same position... like this," he mimicked me.

My heart raced, it wouldn't slow down, "I think I smoked too much..." I said, my voice sounded animated...it sounded like it belonged in a scary movie...it sounded more dramatic than it felt.

"You only took two or three hits..." he said, "do you want to go inside? Maybe--"

"No, no, Matty we can't." I grabbed onto his coat, suddenly feeling as though I was in a scene from an old time murder mystery film.

"What, why?!" He asked.

"Everyone will know." I whispered.

He laughed hysterically, "that's okay, they're all stoned too, or drunk or high on something else." He shook his head, "boy you have a low tolerance."

"Matty..." I said, clutching my fists around his coat even tighter, he looked at me, confused.

"...yes?" He said, a stiffness in his voice.

"We can not...go in there..." I whispered.

"We'll go inside, and away from people. Alright?" He said, "it's cold out here, aren't you cold?" He asked.

I nodded, I felt like a small child. I had to keep my mind occupied, I shook my head over and over, trying to gain back control of my mind.

He stood up, waiting for me to follow. I did slowly after, the music was too much as soon as the glass door slid open. It was some kind of loud...British...rock and roll. I held onto my head even tighter, it drove me insane, and felt as though it was controlling me.

"Ohp, this way." He grabbed me by my waist as I continued straight at his turn up the stairs. I turned around nearly stumbling, following him up.

He must've opened the doors to at least two to three different bedrooms that were occupied by couples getting ready to, if not already fucking like wild animals.

Finally he opened the door to an empty one, he let me in first, then shut the door behind us. I looked around, the lights were dim. It felt more romantic than it needed to be.

I unzipped my jacket and threw it in who knows what direction, my arm felt light as a feather, and the jacket felt heavier than a bag of bricks. I laid across the bed, feeling guilty. I should be home, in bed, not stoned out of my mind at a wild party with a man I barely know...

"Are you alright...?" He asked, I stopped myself as I noticed I was holding my head.

"I'm fine...I just...I've never felt like this before. I've been high before. But I've never felt like this...I feel...I...I don't know." I said.

"Its alright, paranoia is normal with this stuff. I hate that kind of high. Just relax, alright." He said, walking over to me and taking his coat off also.

"Can you just hug me?" I asked, I desperately longed to not feel so alone...in that very moment, I'd never wanted the company of another person so bad.

"Of course." He reached out and wrapped his arms around me tightly. I suddenly slipped into a state of security, I felt safe...and less guilty. He smelled like cigarettes and slightly like cologne, good expensive cologne.

"Matty...do you feel like how I feel right now?" I asked.

"I'm barely high..." he laughed, "but I do this quite often so..."

I laughed too, I knew he was telling the truth.

"You know what, I don't want to ruin the party for you. I'm gonna just go wait in the car. I got the keys. Remember?" I mumbled.

"You're not ruining anything for me, but are you sure?" He asked. I nodded, letting go of him as he let go of me too and grabbing my jacket.

He grabbed his coat, following me out. Just as I opened the door I saw George in the hallway, he saw me too. I shut the door immediately. I didn't know why, I just did.

"What? Who is it?" Matty asked.

"George." I said.

The door opened, I turned around to see him looking at us, "oh..." he laughed.

"Hey where have you been?" Matty asked him.

"Looking for you...but I guess you were uh..." he looked at me, then back at George, "busy."

"I was on my way to go to the car...to clear my head for a minute." I said, putting my jacket on.

"We weren't doing anything." Matty said, taking a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.

I walked past George, heading down the stairs. I pushed my way through the crowd, feeling so light on my feet that I could float if I wanted to. I pulled the keys out of my pocket as I got outside into the coldness. I unlocked the doors and got in the front seat. Thinking I'd escape the coldness, it was in fact even colder in the car. I searched for the heater, I had no idea how to work it but I fiddled with every button and somehow managed.

There was a tapping on the window. I jumped, scared out of my mind. It was George. I rolled my eyes, what did he want? Go find that chick you were too busy with to pick me up...not that I care. Matty was the perfect substitute.

I reached behind me and opened the door to the back seats. He got in, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them.

"Hey." He said, smiling.

"Hello George." I said.

He laughed, "why'd you say it like that?"

I shrugged.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I shrugged.

"Are you sure?"

I held my breath, before soon bursting, "no. No I'm not alright, okay? I'm stoned out of my mind, I don't know how long this will take to end, I feel scared and nervous...I can't control my mind...it won't stop going on and on and on...I've never felt like this before."

"And that's...a bad thing?" He asked.

I turned on the radio, searching for something similar to what I'd listen to back home. I pushed and pushed and pushed the buttons until finally it landed on a station playing Summer Breeze by Seals and Crofts.

I closed my eyes, "is it supposed to be fun?" I asked.

"Well, yeah...I feel a little bit like that right now and I like it." He said.

"Come here." He said, sitting up a bit. I sighed, I didn't feel like getting out of the car to go to the backseats.

"I'm gonna climb back there." I said.

He nodded as I climbed up on the seat, careful not to tear anything with my shoes. I ended up falling slightly, he laughed and grabbed me, "careful."

"Sorry," I said.

"It's okay, I just don't want you to get hurt." He said, "now come here." He wrapped his arms around me slightly, waiting for my acceptance.

I wrapped my arms around him too, burying my face against his chest.

"Georgeeee'" I whined, "when will it be over?"

"I don't know...you're gonna be fine though." He said.

His hand was incredibly low, in fact, almost touching my ass...I didn't say anything as I felt his hand reaching up higher...then suddenly underneath my blouse and up my back.

"George?" I asked.

"Just relax." I could feel his hands against my bra strap, unhooking it.

"What are you doing?!" I pushed him away, he put his hands up.

"I'm sorry..."

"Ugh, I can't believe you." I reached behind me and hooked my bra back together.

"I thought that's what you wanted..."

"Are you drunk?!" I found myself shouting.

"A little." He confessed.

"Yeah well I'm not. Don't try to take advantage of me because of the way I feel. I thought so highly of you and now I see you're just as bad as anyone else!"

"I wasn't taking advantage of you!" He said.

I got out of the car, feeling like some sort of hooker in the night.

"Look, I'm sorry! It's a party! I'm drunk, you're high, I thought-"

"You thought what? That you could score on me tonight? Is that why you invited me in the first place?!"

"NO!"

I stormed back into the house, pushing past everyone in an aimless destination.

#omg! a matty healy fanfic #trumanlilac #the 1975 #matty healy #george daniel #ross macdonald #adam hann #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 fanfiction #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writer on tumblr

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ayazure · 2 years

Text

For you, to say that Ayato was a good boyfriend would be an understatement. You knew that he was much greater than that. You'd even say that he is better than anyone, better than any person who has come into your life.

Ayato had the charms that tend to cause ripples in your heart. A gentleman who manages to sweep you off of your feet every time. His words felt like gentle rain on a spring day. And those same words contain assurance and affirmation.

In your six years together, he remained sweet and endearing. As couples, you two normally shared a few fights here and there. Ayato had his own way of dealing with these arguments. Whenever you find yourself leaving in utter madness, he would grab one of your wrists and pull you towards him for a kiss.

Let's just say it's an apologetic kiss. It would feel a bit odd because the roller coaster of emotions would flood your brain. You falter for a bit but you aren't someone who backs down easily. You'll ignore him like a tsundere until the tension naturally lifts up.

Ayato's lack of time for you results into these fights at times. However, he learns from his mistakes and tries to make up to you atleast. Just like now, after a long busy day at work, your lover invites you to a fancy, romantic dinner.

After that, he would take you on soothing night walks.

The nightfall showed a dark hue, twinkling stars were filling the gaps and spaces. The full moon was at its peak brightness, shining the way you two were currently taking. With the moon, street lights lit up the city park. It was undeniably beautiful and romantic.

You and Ayato walk side by side. Both shoes would clack and tap against the hard ground, harmoniously sharing the same pace and tune. Both hands creating contact with each sway, seemingly looking like shy teenagers who desire to intertwine them. You two would laugh at your own awkwardness.

You'd realize that these little things make every moment saccharine.

He always end up taking your hands though, and you'd take charge on intertwining them. You two would sway them again, at the same time humming the tune of a love song.

"Six years, we've come so far haven't we?" Ayato starts while staring up at the night sky. You shot a gentle glance at him, then your holding hands. "Indeed, yet you still managed to make me fall in love with you every single day"

Your lips form into a genuine smile and you may not know but Ayato's heart is jumping under his thumping chest. "You do know that your words have a great impact on me, right?"

You only chuckle at his reply.

"You're so sly, you always have a way with your words" he then say, sighing in fake disbelief, as if teasing you. "Oh my, may I remind you of yours.. I falter because of your words too" you replied as a comeback.

"Then, if I say I love you right now, would you be blushing instantly?" He challenges, a playful smirk can be seen on his lips. Your eyes widen slightly "That's not how it works I-"

He jumps right in front of you, leaning in closely. "I love you more than I could say" he whispers softly, preparing to lean in more. You close your eyes in advance, thinking he would kiss you. Seconds go by and nothing happens. You open your eyes to Ayato holding back his laughter.

"stop teasing me"

"I'm sorry ! See, I was right, you'd be flustered-" you interrupt his words, beginning to chase him in the empty sidewalks. He strides away, playfully muttering multiple 'sorry's. At one point, he disappears from your vision.

You'd guess that he probably decided to hide well.. somewhere. You hurriedly tried to search every nook and corner of the area. With no luck, you had difficulty finding him. Worry taints your heart and mind. 'what if someone kidnapped him?'

Just as you released a heavy sigh, someone taps your back. Quite hesitated to look, you stop for a brief second. You still looked anyways.

The moment you did, Ayato was down on one knee, reaching for your hands. You froze in your spot, astonished as your mind turned blank. Another odd moment, could it be?

"Y/n" he calls out and you snap off of your astonishment.

"You stole everything from me.. my heart, my dreariness and possibly.. my last name?" He starts off. This opening statement made your mouth slightly open in agape. You felt heat rise in your cheek and even the tips of your ears.

He gave a light chuckle. "I was thinking of a life without you but I can't imagine it at all. A bed without you there, not even a hint of your scent. Or possibly moments without your presence."

You listen intently as his hand caresses yours. "That's why I took the courage to finally decide.. I want to be yours, and yours to be mine for a lifetime. Darling, will you.. spend the rest of your life with me?"

He takes a velvet box from his back pocket. Opening it infront of you, showing an exquisite ring. The rims holding the jewel formed a heart. His eyes staring directly at you and yours. Purple eyes glistening with hope and realness. You couldn't be more emotional, your heart currently overflowing with shock and a feeling of being touched.

"It's a bit too sudden and overwhelming ain't it? I can always provide you with plenty of time so.." He slowly closes the box in slight withdrawal.

"No no!" You prevented him from doing so. He was slightly taken aback but his expression softens. You clear your throat.

"why wouldn't I say yes? A life to spend with you is worth a wish from a genie"

With teary eyes, he stands up to give you a warm hug. Momentarily pulling away to put the ring on your finger.

"Trust me, I'm the happiest man in the world right now" Forehead to forehead, he smiles in delight. His very own hands were caressing your face and you placed your hand on top of his. "I trust you"

You then smile as well before linking your lips to the most endearing kiss. As soon as a minute passes, fireworks bloom into the sky, audible sparks trail with each explosion.

"Hmm, they were a bit late" Ayato comments with a tiny pout. "You did this?" You ask him, being utterly amazed.

"Of course, I had to make every single thing special.. It would be quite embarrassing to do it on a mediocre atmosphere"

"Quite typical of you dear.. but that's what I love about you" you gave him a peck and you both watched the rest of the display with satisfied hearts and fulfillment.

Another 1 am product GSJAGAJA ! I hope you guys liked it<3 oh and ! Thank you all for 20+ followers, you guys seriously blowed up my posts too T^T♡ I'll be releasing a special out of gratitude soon<3

#genshin impact #fluff drabble #gn reader #gender neutral reader #no pronouns #genshin fanfic #ayato genshin impact #ayato x y/n #ayato x reader #ayato fluff #ayato headcanons #ayato x gender neutral reader #ayato x you #ayato genshin #modern au #engagement #genshin fluff #kamisato ayato #amoureux.

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poledancingdinos · 2 years

Audio

Pairing: August Walker X OFC (1st person POV)

Word Count: 1583

Warnings: Stripper OFC, strip club, lap dance, pole dancing, alcohol

Taglist : @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka

A/N: As usual I write everything out of order so here is how the Devil met his Vixen. Prequel to It Was Never About That With You

Story Masterlist

Masterlist

It’s going to be shitty night. I had a shitty day so why would my evening be any different. I barely slept because of a fire alarm in my building, I got a flat on my way here, fucked up my manicure while changing it and the delay caused me to miss the cut off for the club’s lower entry fee. I know the manicure thing sounds superficial but I’m a stripper. The men who come in judge every single detail of our bodies. If I don’t please them there are dozens of other girls waiting to take my place.

I had my turn on the main stage when I started the evening. I did a bunch of tricks and danced my ass off but I barely made any tips. After that I worked the room for about two hours with little more success and now it’s my turn again. I’m so happy Aaron is the DJ tonight. My taste in music isn’t exactly conventional club music but Aaron always finds me a rock song to perform to. Earlier I was so frustrated that I asked him to give me something fast to work off my anger. This time I’m ready to go back to being the coy, flirty girl that made a name for herself around here.

The room has filled up since I got here and a couple of regulars came in to sit right by the main stage but they aren’t here for me. Across from them on the other side are a couple of guys in suits. Two of them look like they are having the time of their lives, getting dances from any girl within arm’s reach but with them is this stone faced mountain of a man who’s been ignoring everyone in favor of his glass of scotch. I’m getting the feeling that maybe he’s only trying to keep up appearances and that he can’t actually afford to be in the club but he’s easy on the eyes so I guess that’s why I haven’t heard any of the girls complain about him just ogling us for free.

I change into a new outfit that I can strip off to tease the crowd, complete with a cropped fishnet shirt underneath. I stupidly started thinking maybe the night was finally turning around but right as I walk out of the changing room, the strap on my Hella’s breaks. I have other heels in my car but there’s no time for that, I have to get on stage.

The lights in the main room dim a little and my name echoes through the speakers as Aaron announces me. I rip off my shoes and run up the steps to the curtain just in time for my song to start. Aaron likes to make jokes that I look like the girl from The Pretty Reckless only shorter and with more curves. He’s chosen well for me tonight. I’ve had better days, indeed.

I start off with some low flow, the beat of the song slams through my chest and it feels like my heart synched up to the rhythm. For now I don’t pay any attention to the guys around me. I don’t work the crowd. I just dance around, sliding my hands over my inner thighs, squeezing my breasts and pulling the straps of my top like I’m desperate to be rid of it but never taking it off. Right before the bridge starts, I position myself with the pole on my right and pause for a second, letting the suspense build. I let my eyes roam the room and I can’t help but be caught in the gaze of the man I saw before.

I have his full attention. Instead of sitting back in his chair like before, he’s leaning forward and the now empty rocks glass is long forgotten on the table by his side. When the drum kicks in, I grab hold of the pole, jump in the air and do a backflip, landing in a crouch with a dramatic thud. It’s a move I’ve always wanted to do but who wants to risk a sprained ankle by landing a flip in sky high stripper heels.

The two party guys on the left of the stage start whistling and cheering so I crawl towards them. There are a few bills on the floor around me and one of the guys stands with twenty. I let him slip it under my fishnets and roll onto my back with my legs in the air to pull off my short black skirt that leaves me in nothing but my strappy thong. A few more guys come stand by the edge of the stage and they make bills rain over me. I catch a couple, rubbing them over my body and the guys go crazy for it. I learned over the years that a woman gyrating in money is like a wet dream for some of them.

I get back up on my knees and I keep moving for them, letting them shove bills anywhere they can make them hold on my outfit. I lock eyes with the handsome stranger and even with his scruff covered cheeks I can tell he looks pissed which just makes me want to see what more I can do to elicit a reaction. I keep dancing, feeding off the lyrics. I can’t help but sing along as I reach behind my back and unclip my bra to reveal the thin string bikini top beneath.

One, two, three and four. The devil's knocking at your door. Caught in the eye of a dead man's lie. Start your life with your head held high.

Now you're on your knees with your head hung low. Big man tells you where to go. Tell them it's good, tell them okay. Don't do a goddamn thing they say.

When he looks like he’s about to burst, I move along to dance and tease a few other guys before I stand and turn towards the pole. I have less than thirty seconds left before Aaron cuts off the song and I plan to make them good. I take three fast steps towards the pole, catching it high up with my left hand and dramatically swing my legs around. I climb up to the top of the pole, invert to get my outside leg to hook on above me and plant my bottom foot on the pole. When I feel stable enough, I let go of my top leg and move into a Russian split just as the song starts to fade out and a wave of cheers echoes through the room. I swing my leg over my head and dismount with a drop down the pole, catching my fall just before crashing into the floor.

One of the bouncers helps me push my money over to one of the smaller side stages to free the space for the girls that dance between our little performances. I made at least three times more than what I’ve earned so far this evening. I go back to the changing room, lock a part of the money in my locker and quickly run out to my car to get my spare heels.

When I walk back out onto the floor, I scan the room and spot a group of guys in a back booth. There are no other girls around them so I start to move in their direction but someone standing by the bar catches my wrist.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

I look back and find myself face to face — well, chest to face — with the stern suited man. Now that I’m closer to him, I can see that his eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue with a small speck of brown in one of them.

“I’d rather you bought a dance.”

That puts a smirk on his face. He reaches into the breast pocket of his suit and pulls a stack of hundred dollar bills. Clearly I was wrong about him being too broke to be here. He takes one bill out and places it on the bar then takes two more and hands them to me. I take them from him, tucking them into my little purse then I wrap my hand around his tie and pull him into one of the VIP rooms.

When I pull the curtain shut behind us, I lead the bearded stranger to one of the two chairs in the middle of the room. Once he sits on the chair, he holds my gaze as he wraps his large hand around my wrist and forces me to release my grip on his tie.

“That was quite the song you danced to.”

“I find that it was quite fitting,” I answer as I straddle his lap and begin to dance.

“So you’re a rebellious girl who belongs in Hell?”

“Around here, they call me Vixen,” I whisper in his ear as I push my breasts against his chest. “So what do you think?”

I can feel everything beneath me as I dance and there is a lot to feel. I roll my hips a little harder than I normally would but he’s not complaining. Despite the massive erection in his pants, he’s showing off incredible self-control and hasn’t put his hands on me once.

“I think,” he begins, his voice sending a shiver down my spine, “that I’m the Devil and you belong with me.”

Part 2 (next)

Part 3

Part 4

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