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astermath · 10 days

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hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!

HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!

wc: 1.4K

notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!

Steve is one attentive boyfriend.

It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.

He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.

So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?

It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?

You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.

“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.

The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.

The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.

"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"

You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"

"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"

"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.

"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"

Shit, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.

"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.

"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."

The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.

Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"

You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.

By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.

Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.

Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.

Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.

"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.

"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"

The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.

"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."

He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.

"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.

"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.

"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."

The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”

He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”

You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.

“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.

“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

#tysm for the ask!#stevemath #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington writing #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington comfort #serpentwithatardis #aster replies

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salvatwh0re · 8 months

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I have officially mastered the void

So this morning (afternoon actually) i decided to tap into the void so I did the 61 points yoga nidra meditation with a subliminal. I didn’t really need the subliminal I was just using it cause my headphones are somewhat noise cancelling and my family was awake so I didn’t want to get distracted. But the meditation was really relaxing. At first I had some trouble staying focused but then I reminded myself why I was doing this and what I was doing it for. So it kept me motivated. After that i affirmed a little bit then I counted down from 100 and then I affirmed some more then I got bored of affirming so i started visualizing and then I got bored of that so I just decided to focus on the darkness behind my eyelids.

I never really took that advice from people when they said it helped cause I didn’t believe them but it actually worked. Out of everything else I did that was the one thing that sent me straight to the void. I think for the most part it was just letting go of that desperate feeling i always have when I try to enter. I always feel like I’m forcing myself to do it so I just let go and kind of forgot about what I was doing while still keeping that intention.

I was getting pretty anxious tho because of the time so I just got out but i did it again and it sent me straight to the void again. So now I know the secret to getting into the void is to just let go of that desperation and to stop forcing yourself, just let it happen. If you feel you’ve affirmed enough stop affirming, if you feel you’ve focused on your breathing enough, go back to your automatic breathing pattern STOP FORCING YOURSELF IT WILL GET YOU NOWHERE!!

and I know a lot of people stress about not being aware in the void and not affirming for your desires but stressing over that is exactly what’s going to make you forget tbh. When you let go of that desperation you let go of those other doubts too, those things that were stopping you from getting there in the first place. I feel like removing yourself from those thoughts is really effective in getting you what you want.

I will say it might help to have a list of things you want either written down or set in your mind because it will be a lot easier to remember what you’re going to affirm. When you’re in the void or even before you tap in completely you’re supposed to be super relaxed so it might be a little difficult to bring up those thoughts but because of how different the void is from the 3D it’s kind of hard to forget. Especially if you’ve been trying for a long time.

The void isn’t really something you question, you know for sure you’re in cause you can’t hear feel see taste or smell anything so it’s pretty identifiable. And because you’ve reminded yourself over and over that that’s what the void feels like, once you feel it you’re going to be like OHHH ok now i know to affirm for my desires. You’ve been training your brain to associate the void with your desires so of course once you recognize that you’re in you’re going to remember to affirm for your desires.

Also I don’t really like using the term void personally, but it’s what I learned it as. I feel like calling it the void just makes it sound so otherworldly and extraterrestrial and scary tbh. I think that’s what was holding me back as well, fear. I know that Neville Goddard refers to it as the I AM state which is a perfect name for it because it really is a state of just BEING like you’re not worried about anything else other than yourself and that’s the beauty of it. I would go on more cause there’s so much I can say but overall i hope you just let you go of that desperation so that you can finally push through and get everything you’ve been wanting because you deserve it.

#void state #void success #the void state #loassumption

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youthereader · 7 months

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Andy bends you over his desk.

pairing: andy barber (defending jacob) x assistant fem!reader

summary: 1.9k words. andy reprimands you for wearing an inappropriate skirt at work.

rating: e; smut, barebacking, semi-public sex, some praise kink, boss-employee relationship, spanking

a/n: not the usual here but this idea got the best of me.

You consider your working relationship with Andy to be a friendly one. You talk about the weather, some sports, a restaurant opening in town. It’s light and fun and it’s probably the best job you’ve ever had, being his assistant.

Because of this, you care a lot about him on a deeper level, too, and it probably crosses into unprofessionalism, but it doesn’t hurt anyone since nobody knows you’re harboring a huge crush on him. And it makes sense! He’s so handsome, and so smart without being condescending, something you’re not used to. Your Hinge dates are downright depressing at times because you keep comparing everyone of them to your boss. You think to yourself, why can’t they be more like Andy?

It's only natural to daydream about him taking you out instead of those disappointing guys, and it’s harmless fun. There was the one time he caught you looking at him when you sat by his side in a meeting, your pen poised to take notes, and he winked at you. It made you feel all warm and giggly, your cheeks flushing as you pressed your lips together to smother your mirth.

You start buying new clothes, justifying them as work purchases, knowing you’re picking things you hope Andy will appreciate. The most daring is a short leather skirt with a slit that comes up mid-thigh, and you specifically choose to wear it on a day you know Andy plans to dedicate to being in the office, his paperwork having got away from him. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to grab his attention, and then you’ll open your app at the end of the day to find someone more realistic, more tangible, and then ride the high of confidence into the weekend. It’s a win-win situation.

You rise from your desk as he walks in, greeting him with coffee, and his eyes drop immediately to your legs when he picks up his Styrofoam cup. He blinks twice, his response delayed.

“Good morning.”

He glances at his watch, muttering a curse word before he departs. It’s not what you hoped for, but it’s not nothing, either. You get back to your computer and answer the phone. Andy doesn’t leave for a couple hours and when he reappears, he’s on his cell phone, distracted, barely looking at you.

Maybe he’s not a leg guy? Maybe he just doesn’t think you’re cute?

You try not to feel let down by this, plodding along, until he comes back a bit before noon, your eyes meeting as he passes through.

“Any messages?”

“Yes,” you reply, retrieving your notepad. “I told them you’d call them back. Also, your dentist keeps playing phone tag-”

He lets out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head. “Uh, yeah. Please call Dr. Fisher back and apologize to her. I’m sure she’ll have a lot to say when I finally see her.”

“Plaque not top of your priorities?” you tease, sinking back into your chair, swivelling in it to face your monitor once more.

You catch his eyes following your movements, and you’re suddenly far more aware of your skin. You pick up the phone receiver.

“Just call her back, please,” he says, not matching your tone.

He sounds almost impatient with you, which has never happened before. You nod, going quiet. You do as you’re told, and the receptionist sighs on the other end of the line, rescheduling for you yet again.

“There’s a cancellation fee.”

“Yes, he is aware,” you reply. “And he sends his apologies.”

“Tell him it’s not good enough.”

You won’t do any such thing; he’d fire you for sticking your nose in his business like that. Frankly, it’s not up to anyone to pass judgement on Andy, knowing what he’d been through in the past few years. If his working life took over everything for him to cope with all the rest, that makes a lot of sense to you.

“Uh-huh.”

When you hang up, you sigh, glancing at the calendar. He doesn’t have many spaces for anything other than meetings. You hope he has some time for himself, even if it’s just a couple hours a day. You remind yourself it’s outside of your control, and more importantly, not relevant to you.

The phone rings and you glance at the digital display, seeing it’s Andy. You pick up.

“Yes?”

“I need to speak to you before you go to lunch.”

“Sure,” you reply, and you hang up, stomach suddenly full of knots.

With how he snapped at you earlier, you mind goes straight to the worst possible outcome – dismissal. It seems a little extreme, but he’s never been so… mean to you. But maybe you’re being paranoid, or maybe… maybe you’re being sensitive, and he didn’t snap at all. Still, he wasn’t warm as he usually was when he saw you. You thought he liked having you as his assistant.

You walk over to his door, wiping your sweaty hands on your skirt before opening it and slipping inside. Your head turned to shut it, you hear him say:

“Please lock that.”

You oblige, and then glance over to his desk, seeing him resting on the edge of it, arms crossed. His jaw tenses, his eyes falling to your skirt.

“What did you need, sir?” you ask, placing your hands behind your back.

“We’ve got an issue,” he says.

You swallow. “Oh? What’s happened?”

Sometimes a client is pricklier than others. Or something high profile comes through the firm and you have to be aware of press sniffing around. You don’t expect what comes out of Andy’s mouth next.

“It’s your skirt.”

“Oh, God,” you say, and you flush. “Yeah… it’s a little much. I’m sorry—”

He puts up a hand, but you keep going.

“I can go home and change, now, on my break. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “No, that won’t do.”

Your heart sinks. He’s going to fire you over your outfit? That has to be discrimination. You gape.

“Andy…”

He pushes off his desk and you freeze. Andy strides right up to you and takes hold of your chin between his thumb and forefinger, eyes boring into yours.

“You think you can wear something like that and there not be any consequences? I can practically see up your skirt.”

You can’t speak. Your heart hammers, her whole face and neck burning with shame.

He moves forward, hips on yours and you stumble backwards, his other hand grabbing your hip to steady you. Underneath the fear and humiliation, you know he’s getting you wet by touching you like this, as if he’s entitled to do so.

His thigh fits between your knees and he searches your face, eyes narrowing.

“Well? What have you got to say for yourself? You got my attention. Is that what you wanted?”

“I…” You gape some more, useless. “I-I did want that. I wanted you to look at me. But it’s not appropriate, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s really not.”

He kisses you, hard, open-mouthed and hungry. You gasp, his tongue pressing into your mouth to tangle with yours. Your hands grip his shirt sleeves and you close your eyes, kissing him back, riding the wave. He still holds your face, but by your jaw, his lips moving down to kiss your neck, his short beard grazing your skin.

“Andy…”

You moan his name and he chuckles, pressing his hard-on against your thigh. He’s huge. You’d bet your life on that. His hands rove your body, squeezing your tits, your hips, your ass… you whimper as he sucks at your skin, grinding against you.

“Come here.”

You obey, tugged along to the desk. He pushes you in front of him, bending you at the waist.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you look over your shoulder at him, watching as he stares at your ass in the leather skirt.

He pushes it up, hand coming down with a sharp slap to your right ass cheek. Of course, you couldn’t just wear any underwear with this skirt – your thong is all that covers you there, and he grabs it, tugging it tight.

“Fuck…”

“Andy,” you say, and he looks at you, chest giving a heave.

“Can’t wander around in that tiny black skirt and then act surprised when I want to fuck you-”

You bite your lip, canting your hips at his words, your ass lifting. He spanks you again, and you hope no-one hears that, the two slaps, or your bitten off moans.

He glances down. “Spread your legs. Fuck… you’re so wet.”

He undoes his belt, then his fly, taking out his cock. He tugs on himself as you anticipate the stretch of him. You nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy.”

He takes hold of you by the neck, angling you for a filthy kiss, his other hand petting your behind, before slipping down between your cheeks to glide through your wetness. You moan into his mouth, his fingers spreading your arousal around, teasing your clit for a steady minute, and you’re whimpering for him.

“Did you wear this just for me?” he whispers, and you nod. He rocks his cock up against you. “Does that mean this is all mine now?”

He means your cunt. He plays with your clit, dips his fingers into you, riling you up. These are the consequences he was talking about.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “It’s all yours.”

He fills you and you both gasp. He holds your shoulder, letting you fall forward onto his desk, rocking back and forth in shallow thrusts. The stretch makes you tremble, slick with want. Your nails scratch at the heavy wood when he picks up speed, hips hitting your ass, your thong stretched to the side.

You don’t know how much you can take, your feet lifting out of your shoes so you stand on tiptoes as he drives into you. All you can feel is how he stretches you to perfection, your mouth drooling from pleasure.

“Oh, fuck…”

Your thong snaps as his hands take hold of your hips, and he utterly wrecks you, skin slapping together as the world slips away. How are you meant to walk after this? Hang on – how are you meant to look Andy in the eye after this?

“Andy, Andy, Andy…”

You’re so close, you just need that little something, and you tense up, trying to muffle your moans in your arms… then you feel him find your clit again and rub, and you think you might burst into tears.

Your orgasm slams into you and your vision whitens, clenching around him as he fucks you through it.

“Good girl, that’s what I wanted,” he pants. “That’s what I wanted to feel.”

You feel something wet down your thighs and you realize you’ve squirted a little at the same time Andy does, and he huffs, close to the edge.

“Jesus, where have you been hiding?”

“Nowhere, I was at my desk,” you slur, and he laughs, breathless.

“You’re like a dream,” he praises, and then goes still, emptying into you. “So… fucking… cute.”

He sighs, hands coming up to pull you back, your next kisses more tender but still messy, the room reeking of sex now. You think of the carpets, the possible stains.

He keeps kissing you, stroking your cheek with his sweaty hand.

“After we clean up, do you wanna get some lunch together?” he whispers, and you nod, smiling lazily.

“I think we’re way past that, sir.”

His eyes sparkle with an unexpected fondness, before he kisses you again.

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you liked it. ❤️

#andy barber x reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #fem reader #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber #ficlet

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tinkerbelle05 · 6 months

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i needddddddddddd a luffy angst or smut pleaseeeeee idc abt the storyline or if its short or long i js need luffy so badly

Second Place

Characters: Luffy x Wife!reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: You loved Luffy, and you knew that he loved you too. However, you also know that you will always be 2nd place to his love. He was more in love with being the king of the pirates and it’s starting to show. And you had enough.

Warning: bad relationships, angst, bad ending, slightly ooc Luffy tbh, no proofread

—

You laid there, on your cold bed in the middle of the night. The only light source was the dimmed moonshine from the window, but otherwise, it was pitch black and silent. You always tried waiting up for Luffy, so you could sneak in a goodnight kiss and maybe a light conversation.

You always loved your nighttime conversations with him. It'll be you two, in this very bed, talking about anything and everything until you both fell asleep in eachother’s arms. That's how you would wake up too.

But those times were nothing but a distant memory. Something to warm you while you laid there cold and lonely.

When Luffy did make it through the door, he was quiet. Maybe he didn’t want to disturb? That’s what you thought at first too. Until you realize it was because he was injured in some fight or mission you weren’t made aware of. You weren’t made aware of a lot of things.

You recalled vividly of when you first discovered.

You sat there on the bed reading with a candle lit. By this time you were knocked out snoring but you wanted to at least say talk with your husband first. With he’s busy schedule, it was hard to make time for each other so this was the next best thing.

You saw the bedroom door opening and it revealed Luffy. But he looked more than just tired. His skin was pale and clammy, he looked absolutely terrible.

Immediately, you were up and out of bed. You walked towards him, your brows frowned with worry but before you could utter a single word, he shuts you down.

“Don’t.” He said and laid down on the bed with a deep sigh.

You stood there, in shock and dismayed. It was rude, it was dismissive. As if you were a nagging child and not a concerned wife.

You glared down at him, “Well excuse me for worrying about my husband.” You laid down on the bed, at the edge of your side and with your back to him. You heard him sigh and shift in the bed.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m…I’m just stressed. With all of the missions and—”

You sat up and turned to him, “Missions? Since when did you have missions?”

You don’t remember anyone telling you about missions at all. To you, the Strawhats hadn’t been on a single mission for a month, which you thought was weird but you didn’t know much about pirates to question it.

You saw as Luffy winced, “Oh, sorry. I guessed I forgot to tell you. Was to busy planning them, hehe.” He laughed softly, obviously trying to lightened the mood.

You didn’t want that, however. You had plenty of questions, but. This was probably the first time in weeks you gotten to talk to Luffy. An actual conversation, not just quick greetings and chaste kisses.

You sighed and got comfortable on the bed. You were noticeable closer to Luffy now.

“Well tell me about the missions? Where’d you go? What’d you take?”

Luffy chuckled at your questions and went into full detail about all of the things you missed out.

But that was two months ago and things have only gotten worse. There are times where Luffy barely acknowledged you, he makes no time for you, nor does he put in any effort to your marriage.

It was always you scheduling dates that had to be canceled, it’s always you wanting to talk but he’s too tired to give you the time of day, and it’s always you making sure he takes care of his wounds. Or gets enough sleep. Or he eats something that isn’t meat.

You understood that Luffy wanted to be King of the Pirates but he was becoming increasingly reckless in his pursuits. Which meant more wounds that you needed to take care of because he couldn’t be bothered to do it himself.

You were tired of it. You felt like a servant rather than a wife. You guessed you weren’t enough. Wiping off the stray tears from your cheeks, you began to pack your clothes. The Going Merry was docked at some island—you had forgotten the name but you had some money saved up. You’ll be fine without him.

With your bags packed, you started twisting the ring on your finger. It was a pretty thing, something you thought you would always wear until your dying breath. You slipped it off your finger and placed it on the desk that was overflowing with maps of foreign lands.

“What are you doing?” You heard Luffy. You turned to see him standing at the doorway. His eyes caught to your packed bags and the ring that was on the desk.

His expression was unreadable but it obviously wasn’t happy.

“I’m leaving,” you responded and pushed passed him. Surprisingly, he followed you. He didn’t utter a word to you until you got to the docks, you guessed that he assumed you were bluffing, but you weren't.

“Why?!” You heard Luffy shout and that stopped you in your tracks. It made your blood run cold that he even had the audacity to ask such a question.

“Excuse me? Don’t ask stupid questions like that, Luffy,” you glared up at him.

He ran after you, grabbing your arm to stop you from moving, “How is it a stupid question?! How is it a stupid question to ask why my wife is leaving me?”

“Oh so now I’m your wife,” you sassed. “Luffy, when was the last time we kissed? Held hands? Hell, when was the last time we had a conversation that wasn’t about your recklessness?! When was the last time you held me in your arms?!”

His face betrayed no emotion, “I…I know I haven’t been the best husband, I can admit that. But, you know how important my dream is to me. To be the best of the best, I have to work hard.”

You tilted your head. Feeling your heart break all over again, you asked him the question that’s been weighing on your mind for a while.

“Is being the pirate king more important than me? Than being a good husband?” You asked.

You knew the answer. It was obvious to you, but you wanted to hear it from him.

“Now—“

“It’s a yes or no, Luffy. Answer the question,” You pressed him

"Listen, you know that it's always been my dream to become the Pirate King, and that comes with sacrifices," Luffy explained. He stepped closer to you and attempted to touch your arm but you pulled away. Your rejection didn't stop him from continuing, "But never doubt that I don't love you. Because I do and--"

You smiled sharply, "You may love me or think that you love me, but I will always be second place in your dreams. Your dreams would always take priority over me and I..I cannot accept that. Not anymore." You said and turned around, trying to blink back the tears.

Luffy wasn't the best husband in the world, that was obvious. But when he was there and present, he was so, so good to you. Your best friend, your confidant, your "forever". And while a small part of you still loved Luffy, still wanted him to hear him say that you are his number one, you knew that it was only a dream that would never come true.

You turn back around one last time and leave him with this, "Goodbye, Luffy. I hope you get your dream."

Tags: @abree234, @louissolovely, @randomhoex, @marceesworld, @dragonqueenfk, @puff-hugs, @childofhecate108, @foxflamewarrior, @msmisasoup, @localcowboyd, @thatgothic-nerd, @0picels0, @charliepoopyfart, @rotin0, @nikolaevna-art, @cielitoot7, @tayharrper, @simpingmyassoff, @borkbarnes, @villainouspotential, @ramielll, @fujinnn, @fuck-you-im-gae, @poketrainer2270, @dazaisfavgf, @smolraccoon25, @hopester08, @don-tuna, @avatarkanemi, @dimplewonie, @fandomsunited, @synchronised-beat

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vhagarlovebot · 11 months

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VALENTINE’S DAY.

pairing: modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

summary: on valentine's day everything seems to have a discount for couples, so why not pretend to be one to save some money and have fun?

content warnings: fake dating trope, hurt/comfort, pining, some mildly suggestive content, confessions.

note: hello, lovely reader ! i just want to say a few things before you start reading. this was one of my first ever works here on this app but in a different blog way back when i used to write for the marauders. this was actually a request sent to me from a prompt list i can’t find anymore, and it was about sirius black. i edited it the best i could, so you’re probably still going to see some very poor grammar and it’s because i’d just started writing in english and because of that it is completely normal for me to still have problems writing in a language that isn’t mine. i really hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

“YOU SHOULD COME WITH US.” your friend maris says, applying lipstick in front of her mirror.

“and be the third wheel?” you ask from your spot on her bed, flipping through the pages of a magazine. “it’s bad enough you are dating my brother.” sighing, you toss the magazine having lost all your attention. “besides, i’m sure aegon and aemond are on their way.”

at the sound of their names, cregan’s head appears in the door. “you didn’t hear?”

“what?” you roll your eyes.

“aegon has a date.” the couple says, looking at each other, and then you.

“he what? fucking traitor.” you get up, going for your phone. “didn’t even have the decency to tell me. but he’s go—aemond is calling me… i swear to the seven if he’s going to cancel our plans i’m goin’ to kill myself.”

cregan laughs, calling you a dramatic as he walks away.

“you heard?”

aemond laughs. “yea’, i played matchmaker.”

“aemond?!”

“stop being so dramatic, i’m on my way.”

“and who the fuck is his date?” you ask again.

you hear him sigh, but you really want to know who’s this girl your friend is ditching you for. “just a friend.” his answer doesn’t make you feel better at all. it’s silly but this tradition of the three of you eating junk food and watching slasher movies has been going on for three years. it all started the valentine’s day your useless ex-boyfriend dumped you and both of them cancelled their dates to stay with you. you never really thought this day would come.

“it’s okay, just one more reason to be mad about.” you collapse on the couch, going immediately for the remote to search for a movie. “you bringing the food, right?”

“about that…” you sigh, ready to be stood up. “maybe we should go out.”

“what?”

“just make sure to be ready by the time i get there.”

then the call cuts out.

maris and cregan look puzzled at you, asking what’s going on without actually asking. you shrug and that is the only answer you give them, because you really don’t know what his plans are.

and not even five minutes have passed when aemond is knocking on the door.

an expression of pure terror crosses your face and before cregan opens the door, you run to maris’ bedroom.

“what’s going on?” she asks, her dress half buttoned.

“aemond said something about going out,” you explain while going through her clothes. “and m’not going out in sweatpants.”

you find a red skirt that goes with one of your tops and with a little help from your raven-haired friend you have as a roommate, ten minutes later, with an “are you done?” coming from the living room, you are ready to go to wherever your friend is taking you.

aemond is chatting with cregan, neither of them aware of your presence, so you take the time to look at him… like really look at him.

he’s wearing his leather jacket, the one he got during sixth year at boarding school and hasn't taken off since then, the same one you used to see girls wearing all around campus when he was with them. never the same girl twice. aemond is dressed entirely in black and you can see his chest peeking out from his button down.

aemond catches you staring and looks at you with a raised eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, only to show you what’s behind his back; a bouquet of roses. it’s part of the tradition but it still makes your heart beat faster. you accept it with a smile, smelling them and leaving the bouquet on the table.

you pout, crossing your arms. “are you going to tell me what you have planned?”

“nope, let’s go.” aemond grabs your arm, dragging you out of there.

“no, seriously, he’s kidnapping me and you’re not doing anything.” you protest, looking back at your brother who just laughs, waving you goodbye. “i’m telling mom and dad!”

the door closes behind you and you let him walk you out of the building.

“aaand?” you ask once more, walking down the street, your arm around his.

you see couples everywhere, a few of them with flowers and balloons, holding hands, radiating love. and a part of you wishes for something like that. maybe not the balloons and a lot less cheesy, but the commitment, the tender love, someone with whom you can share your thoughts with, your nights, your future. you want to feel the passion, the need to have someone kissing every part of you, worshiping your body, sleepless night with bodies intertwined. you don’t want a one-night thing; you want it all.

“there’s a restaurant with discount for couples and is giving dessert for free.” his lilac eye looks straight into yours, a lopsided smile on his face. “and i was thinking about eating there, then bring dessert home and watch texas chain saw massacre on your couch.”

“that sounds like a great idea.” you smile, walking beside him a little more excited than before.

“you know we’ll have to pretend to be a couple, right?” he stops walking.

you roll your eyes. “know your limits.”

“i’m serious!”

“i know you've been dying to kiss me since forever, but that’s only going to happen in your dreams.”

he brings a hand to his chest, feigning sadness. “you are cruel.”

you slap his arm, pushing him aside. “fine, but keep your hands to yourself. i’m not one of your groupies.”

“you could be.”

“in your dreams.” he just laughs, walking by your side.

neither of you spoke again, but every time his arm grazed against yours a cold shiver ran down your spine. and that is something you haven’t felt since seventh year, when you walked in on aemond having sex with a girl and couldn’t look him in the eyes for weeks. you weren’t exactly quiet, dropping the books was what gave you away, and the girl was focused on something else, that being her body being pushed against the bed, so the only one who saw you was him. you’d think he would stop, maybe feel embarrassed, right? that is not aemond targaryen. he just kept doing it, eye focused on yours, on the way you held your breath when he moved his pelvis a certain way making her cry out. you were frozen in place, your eyes going from the spot where their bodies met to his eyes, and it was only when he moaned something that sounded a lot like your name, you got out of there.

you couldn’t look at him, opting instead on avoiding him and all the questions from your friends. eventually, what you saw was left in the past, even though he tried to talk about it you didn’t give him the chance. you couldn’t. even if a part of you wanted to know what he was going to say, even if you spent the rest of the year dreaming about it, wishing to be one of those girls. even if you still want to be one of those girls.

“oh gods.” you say, stopping in front of a sushi restaurant full of valentine’s day decorations.

the host greets you and aemond immediately gets into character, hand going to your lower back, right where your top meets the skirt, leaving a few centimeters of bare skin. your whole body reacts at that and it’s like touching the sun.

the whole place is full of heart-shaped balloons hanging from the ceiling, the tables have red tablecloths with red roses in vases, and each one of them is named after a romcom.

“your table.” the host smiles, stepping aside.

“no strings attached? really?” you could cry at how cheesy, awkward and stupid everything is.

“i wanted that one with matthew mcconaughey because it is your favorite, love. but it was already taken.” he seems genuinely sad and you smile, fixing the collar of his button down.

“it’s okay, aem.” you kiss his cheek. “thank you.” you give the man standing in front of you a smile and sit in the booth. it’s discrete and you are grateful for that, not wanting to pretend the whole time you are going to be there, afraid of arousing suspicion.

“your waiter is going to be here any minute. if you’ll excuse me.” the host walks away and you can finally breathe normally.

aemond sits beside you and when you make eye contact, it’s impossible not to laugh.

“i can’t believe we are doing this.” you hide behind your hands, making him laugh even more.

“i knew you’ll like it.” aemond winks at you. “no, but really, i can’t believe how they do this.”

“and how people like it.” you pretend to throw up, and he laughs again. “but at the same time it’s kind of cute?”

“are you serious?”

“it’s cute to see couples enjoying this day, going to restaurants like this and enjoy each other’s company.” you shrug, playing with the rose petals, avoiding eye contact.

“you want that?” he asks, moving closer, creating a bubble around the two of you.

“yeah.” this time you look up, meeting his eye looking intently at you. “i’ve wanted it for a long time, but i think i’m not made for that.”

aemond must see the sadness on your face, because he places his hand on top of yours. you smile, feeling the sudden urgency to run your fingers through his hair.

“i know the right guy for you is out there, maybe you just need to pay more attention.”

“you think so?” you lean towards him, whispering.

“maybe what you’re looking for is… right in front of you.”

you smell the cigarettes and peppermint on his breath and are almost able to see and count all the freckles on his face, you just need to move a little closer to know if his lips are as soft as they seem.

“aemond targaryen?”

a third voice startles both of you, and just like that the moment has passed.

a blonde girl stands in front of the table and by the pad and pencil in her hands you know she’s the waiter. she has green eyes and a bright smile addressed to aemond.

“do you—you known each other?” you ask when a minute has passed and none of them has said a word.

“um, yeah.” aemond moves away from you, hands resting on his thighs.

“i think the word known falls short.” the girl giggles and you want to throw up.

“i thought you were off tonight.” it’s like you are invisible for him right now.

in any other circumstance you wouldn’t care, but not today. not right now, not after what almost happened a moment ago, because you’re a hundred percent sure that if this girl hadn’t shown up you two would be doing a totally different thing.

“i didn’t know you were in a relationship.” her green eyes look at you. “i mean, if i’d known i wouldn’t have gone to your apartment yesterday.” there’s poison in her words, she’s doing it on purpose to hurt you, and succeeding.

you chuckle, closing your eyes. why does it hurt?

aemond says something and you immediately let your guard down, allowing you to believe, and wish, and dream about things that most likely aren’t going to happen. ever.

you thought the little crush you used to have on your brother’s best friend had vanished, but one night with him was enough to know that aemond targaryen still has power over you. that’s why you are never alone with him; you don’t trust yourself.

you never made a big deal about it until that incident in seventh year. that was the moment everything changed. but you were able to get over it, or so you thought.

“it’s okay.” you smile, trying not to look at aemond at all. “we’re just pretending, aemond wanted to get the discount.”

she giggles again. “couples only, sorry.” she doesn’t look sorry at all. “i’ll give you time to look at the menu.” with a flirty little smile, she disappears.

“why did you do that?” aemond asks, touching your arm for a second before you move away. you don’t want him to think something’s wrong, but it’s a little hard for you to pretend you’re not hurt.

“did what?” you play dumb, pretending to look at the menu.

“why did you tell her we’re not together?”

you frown. “’cause we’re not? and you had sex with her yesterday, if we’re going to pretend at least let me have some dignity.”

“you are getting it all wrong.” he huffs, running his hands through his hair. “if you let me explain—”

“you have nothing to explain, aemond.” you say, looking at him and trying to swallow the urge to scream. “i know how you are, we’re friends, remember?”

“but—”

“you know what? i think i would rather order something from mcdonald’s and call it a night.” smiling, you touch his hand trying to make it look like everything’s okay and you don’t want to jump in front of the blonde girl and scratch her face. “you are more than welcome to join.”

you don’t give him time to say something else, standing and walking out of the restaurant in less than a minute. not bothering to look back to know if he’s following, all you want to do is choke on ice cream and watch a movie, the thing you should be doing tonight in the first place.

the night is cold, but it helps to clear your mind.

you’re not even a block away, when his voice makes you stop in your tracks. “i like you.”

you’re surprised by his confession, even a little flame of hope taking place in your heart.

“tonight was supposed to be fun.” aemond sighs, and you know he’s scratching his neck, something he usually does when he’s nervous. “but i messed everything up.”

you stopped breathing after his first confession, but you still can’t turn around because you’re a coward, not sure what to do with a confession you have been dying to hear for so many years.

“i didn’t have sex with her.” you hear his footsteps and, in a second, he’s in front of you, his fingers lifting your chin up, lilac eye locked fixed on your face. “and haven’t had any in a very long time.”

“what?” you can’t hide the surprise in your voice.

he chuckles. “i know i haven’t been good at showing it, but i’ve had a crush on you since forever.”

“stop messing with me, aemond.” you don’t want to believe him, you really want to walk past him and forget this night happened at all. but the part inside of you that still wants this to be real, won’t let you.

“m’not!” both his hands are now on each side of your face, the only thing you can see is his good eye, his lips, the longing on his face. “i’ve wanted to tell you for a very long time… seventh year, to be exact.”

your eyes open a lot more at that. “are you—”

“yes.” he chuckles, his cheeks a soft pink. “it was stupid, but i thought you would take the hint. after all, i moaned your name on purpose.”

“shut up!” your face is burning, you don’t even need a mirror to know you’re blushing hard. “you were having sex with another girl, aemond.”

“but i was thinking of you.”

“that does not make me feel better, y’know.” you step away from him, taking some distance.

“i know, i’m an idiot.”

you silently agree, not jnderstand anything, tonight has been a blurry, a lot of things happening in so little time. old feelings resurfacing, jealousy, heartbreak, happiness.

“but i like you too, idiot.”

his face lights up. “i knew.”

“you—what?” you frown, heart about to get out of your chest.

“i had a feeling.” he shrugs, slowly getting closer to you again, making sure you are not running away this time.

“are you serious?”

“i think i just buried ‘em because was sure nothing was ever going to happen. you were, well, you. and i was not willing to suffer because of those feelings.” your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers interlocking in his soft hair.

“i always thought you deserved much better. and i was a total coward, too afraid of not being what you expected.” he smiles, his hands going to your waist and caressing your soft and delicate skin, still burning for his touch. “and i kept denying it and denying it. denying that my heart beats faster every time you walk into a room, that i want to kiss you every time you laugh, every time you make fun of cregan, or cry watching animal planet, or talk about what you like and don’t like. that the only thing i’ve wanted for years has been to hold you in my arms and touch every part of your body, to make you feel what i feel. to show you what love really means, to show you things you haven’t experienced before. and just… to be by your side.”

all you feel is him, his calloused hands creating patterns on your bare skin, his peppermint breath, his warm, rich, woody scent engulfing you. and for the first time in years, you let those feelings rise to the surface. you let yourself burn for aemond targaryen.

#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#modern!aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen scenarios #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #prince aemond x reader

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starsomens · 19 days

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𝕂𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕟

Finding out

I write about Eden a lot however Keaton was your first baby. This happened about a year and a half after you and Noah had gotten married, find out that you are pregnant with your first baby! And that was Keaton :)

Of course, you both were aware of the risk since you guys didn’t use a lot of protection during the first year of marriage and you’re OK with that. During this pregnancy, you both actually had noticed you’re missing period

It was about nine at night after I got home from the studio, when you had told him you were feeling a little weird and you had your suspicions so you both take a trip to the convenience store and buy two boxes of tests just because there were such things as false positives and you wanted to be sure of the results

This was a somewhat planned pregnancy. You knew the risks that would happen and you both came to an agreement that if you did fall pregnant you’d take it as it was and be happy about it

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“ so you can watch me pee on a stick?”

Well, he seen more than that already but you were sure he was just nervous.

He was. He paced, he sat on the couch for like 3 minutes, got up and listened to the bathroom door. Deadass looked up long long a pregnancy test took and went to knock on your door

“Baby? Are you okay? Do you need any help or-“ you opened the door and you swore you saw how panicked he was

“Noah, honey I’m fine…..I haven’t looked yet” you said as you hand him the rest that was wrapped back in the wrapper

“Oh okay….hey it’s okay, we’ll open it together” we both stood there in a space to move while he takes test out of the wrapper and flips it.

“ITS POSITIVE OH MY GOD-“

You were running around the house not finding a better way to get your energy out

“Baby? Baby, we’re gonna…we’re gonna HAVE a baby. Oh god….a baby!” Then Noah started running after you and finally caught you in a Hug

“Wow…..Noah…I’m….im pregnant!”

“You are princess” he just starts kissing the top of your head and nuzzling you. He then pulls back and comes down to your belly button and you can feel your cheeks blush

“Hey there, I’m your….dad! Or I’m gonna be your dad…..yeah…..I’m gonna be your dad”

He now has a habit of rest his head on your stomach. He feels closer to you and the baby, that wasn’t even the size of a strawberry at the moment.

I don’t really see him as someone made the appointment because he was so excited

“ when is your next earliest appointment?….mhm… at 2? That’s perfect. I can come in with her right? Okay thank you.”

While you waited for your appointment, a lot of symptoms at first, but the closer the day the more nauseous you were feeling. And of course on the date of appointment was when you first experienced morning sickness, and it was awful.

You were very close to canceling the appointment and going on a different day. However, if it wasn’t for Noah helping you out and soothing your nausea you would’ve just crawled back into bed.

1st trimester

Noah has big hands and he put those big hands to use. He holds your hair back with one hand and he rubs circles on your back with the other.

While you brush your teeth from the nasty bitter flavor, he wants to get you some water. the kids make sure you drink all the water

He was very excited for the first appointment, and since this was your first child, he took every pamphlet on any kind of information that you guys would need it. He’ll just read out all the facts to you while you’re waiting in the room for your doctor

He may have went a bit over his head with how much you’d be able to see at this point but still amazing that the tiny little blob on the screen would soon become your baby

“

“I’d say you’re just about tipping 2 weeks. Still a early on, so you should still enjoy this wonderful early symptoms unfortunately”

You had never seen him so focused as he looked at the screen and subconsciously played with your fingers.

You had never seen his eyes sparkle as much as they did when you had gotten a small sonogram of your first appointment. He was all smiles and was already clearing days so he’d be able to come to the appointments with you.

Time was your first baby.

Nothing I’d put out

Everything is kept LOWKEY, UNDER WRAPS, IN PRIVATE

The only people who knew were the boys and direct management so they knew about any kind of up coming appointments, or change of plans and dates. He was already protective of you but now you’re carrying a baby! Your baby!

He just feels the need to keep you safe and comfortable and secure

Definitely takes pictures each week that passes to document progress and of course create memories to look back on. Works on a top secret project in his studio for the baby as well. He makes a video documentary for the baby, starting from when he found out and every time you have a milestone

2nd trimester

3 months down, 6 to go!

Your morning sickness is finally easing up and you can actually get up in the morning and get your things done.

Or can you?

Aside from the morning sickness finally subsiding you’re not just very sleepy and you love to take morning naps preferably right after you wake up if you’re a stomach sleeper, Noah is definitely making sure that you’re starting to sleep on your sides or on your back. He’s already offered to buy you a pregnancy pillow so that you can avoid sleeping on your stomach, even though your bump is still not showing.

You’ll get bloated from something you eat and your baby girl over it and you kinda have to ruin the moment. It’s just food, but that’s what it would look like.

His wish does come true. Once you get into your five month mark you start showing and he is over the moon about it. If you scroll through his gallery, it’s a bunch of pictures of your bump from different angles his favorite one, that is now his wallpaper is a picture of you on the sofa with a bullet chips. Stuffing your face while his head is in your lap and he took a picture from that angle and he is in love with it.

The first trimester, it is a time where you both agree to tell anyone else that you are close with meaning any kind of family or very close friends from either one of your sides. You also start to rearrange things in the house. Luckily, you did have an extra room that was mostly being used for storage than Noah was starting to clean out to turn into a nursery.

And has pitched the ideas to his team to make clothes from the band

So that he can start with his baby and he could look hard-core

He definitely does his research and wonders if his type of music would be great for development for the baby to hear. Either way he does sing to your baby bump. Whether it’s songs in general that everyone knows or songs that he and the band wrote.

For sure, seeing because in a sense, he wants them to know that since the day they were conceived, he would be there for them and even beyond

You’ve also noticed faster when his face is right up against your bump, which sometimes is a little uncomfortable for you, but you don’t have the heart to move in because he looks so content and happy

No, you also went to your OB/GYN and heard the heartbeat and this man started crying in the examination room. of course it was all real from the start, but once he heard the heartbeat, it really just made things so real for him. And yes, he does document this in the video that he’s creating. He also asked the doctor if he could record the heartbeat and he has three different versions of them, he sends them to the guys so that they can hear the sound and also so that he can brag about his baby having a great heartbeat.

This heartbeat will appear in any songs that he makes in his fact in his mind he wanted to be beat for every song in the next album that he makes, but you didn’t argue with him on it saying that it might make the song sound repetitive. Which he argues.

“ there is nothing better than heartbeat. If people don’t like it they obviously have some questionable taste”

Is just completely infatuated with your baby from day one which is something that honestly warms your heart and you couldn’t wait to see him as a dad in action if he was being a great dad now

Really do love to watch how he builds and paints the nursery. He doesn’t let you do anything because he doesn’t want you breathing in the harsh chemicals of whatever he’s using and because he he just wants you to rest and let the baby grow. He said your job was to grow the baby and let him take care of you. Which honestly you cannot argue on. It sound of like a great deal.

You guys paint the nursery, a neutral color only because you wanted the sex of your baby to stay a surprise until the day that they’re born so every time you go to your appointment, he makes sure to say no gender please when he enters the room by now all of thenurses, assistance, doctors they all say the most proud father they have ever met, whose baby isn’t even born yet it’s very charming.

He has definitely put in paternity leave already for when after you give birth so he doesn’t even have to worry about going back in to work so soon because he wants to help you out at home once the baby arrives.

When you guys do laundry, definitely separate some clothes into your pile because he knows those are most comfortable for you now. He also loves seeing how big his clothes were on you and how your bump would poke out of his clothes.

Whenever you guys do go to bed, he has a ritual where he says good night to both of you, you eat get kisses good night and I don’t mean a single kiss I mean being smothered by his kisses. Also, he likes to shower with you before bed to help relax you. He massages and washes your back and he goes few too many times over your bump because he likes to feel it

Night and if you ask him what he’s doing, he’ll tell you that he’s having a private conversation with your baby

But you do pretend to be asleep so that you can hear these infamous conversations, and you were nearly caught because you had a hold in your sniffs because you just want to cry after hearing what he said

“ we are so excited for you to come. I think I’m more excited than Mommy is….. you’re going to love her. She’s amazing, she’s smart and she’s pretty. I hope you have her eyes, and her cute nose, and I hope you laugh like her too…”

3rd trimester

With this pregnancy you showed very little in the first half but now that you’re in the third trimester you really started showing it was like one day you had a little bloating and now it’s like a full-blown baby bump and it was like a huge change for you

he adjusts his cooking for your cravings and what your scene of smell can handle, but he makes sure everything is nutritious and makes sure you take your prenatal vitamins with your meals.

yes, he will get up at 5 am and make you a grill cheese with some chips on the side if that's what he princess wants

But this also means that the baby has started kicking! Every chance he gets Noah is touching your bump (when isn’t he??)

Definitely tried to provoke the kicks and innocent forgets that it kinda hurts you "wow babe did you see that one? That was a huge stretch"

"Yeah, felt it too"

He is also the only one who can get the baby to relax when you couldn't sleep or even sit still because of the kicking and moving and there are 2 version! When he's loving and more strict about it

"hey, hey, hey what's with the party? Having a dance party in there huh? How about let mama sleep for first, then you can party okay?"

"hey, it's 3 am, your mom is overstimulated and needs sleep, which means you should sleep too,"

He lathers you in coco butter and lotion after your showers and massages your hips, back and feet

10/10 pregnancy because he made it barrable

Birth

I've said this somewhere and can't remember where, your pregnancy went according to the due date.

Labor started the day before your due date and delivery was on the day of the due date you were given. Baby, right on time!

Noah had your hospital bag packed and near the hall closet near the door, packed with EVERYTHING you'd need. Towels, clothes, shoes, socks, snacks, chargers, camera, extra underwear, his clothes also if you wanted them instead, hair and skin products, EVERYTHING

Now Noah has done his research and is knowing what to expect for labor. Yes, he watched birthing videos, however while you were pushing he peaked and you SWEAR this man became paler

"A-are you okay-"

"fine. Just focus on breathing okay?" despite his shock or nerves, the main focus was on YOU and the baby,

holds your hand, ties up your hair, gives you water, and anything you asked for

P A I N, because you thought it would be a good idea to experience "raw natural birth" but unfortunately once you broke it was a bit too late for any medication. You were honestly ready to punch Noah for saying

"Should have taken it when we got here," he was joking but he was honestly very anxious about the pain you were feeling burr he knew you needed him to be your support

"Come on baby you got this" "good job, take your time, you're doing great" "You're so strong Y/N...you're almost there"

Once the baby is born and crying NOAH IS CRYING

IT'S A BOY. You're crying and Noah is kissing your head and just spilling his guts out "Baby you did amazing!" "I'm so proud of you Y/N" "He's so perfect Y/N,"

Now you had discussed that if it was boy you would honor his best friend Keaton by giving him his name. You thought it was just so sweet and meaningful and you knew it would be so important to Noah you saw nothing better than that

Keaton was born in late October, so he is born as the next Sassy Sebastion Scorpio as discussed with @darling-millicent-aubrey

Noah constantly says he isn't crying but he is, while you're resting he's just admiring Keaton and speaking to him softly

"hey buddy...oh look at you, kinda feel bad you looks like me more than your mom, but you're so perfect....I love you Keaton.....so much"

And you? Ugh....when he'd look at you, all he'd see was an absolute champion, a goddess...his wife and best friend who had just went through something so big like pregnancy and labor to bring your son into the world

"Y/N....thank you," he caresses your hand with his thumb while he held Keaton in his other arm "Thank you so much baby.....I love you."

「🍼taglist」: @badomensls @darling-millicent-aubrey @lma1986 @sanchez099 @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @flowery-mess @veronicaphoenix @malerieee

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noahsebastian #bad omens #The Dad Series✨#bad omens fanfiction #badomens #bad omens cult #bad omens fic

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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𝐎𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 5.6k

chapter summary: With Sarah at a sleepover, you, Joel and Tommy get together late to paint the now empty room, but with a distressing call from Sarah, Joel leaves to pick her up. You're just surprised as him when Sarah asks for you specifically. Later on, you accidentally see something that was meant for Asha's eyes only.

warnings: sarah gets her period for the first time so first-time period talk, nude photo (joel's), female masturbation (reader), feelings of loneliness (reader)

Chapter Four || Chapter Six

It’s been two weeks since Asha became a part of Joel’s life. They were more similar to what he initially had thought. For starters, neither of them talked about their families or upbringings. It was from Tommy that Joel learned that her parents still resided in India and that she came here alone, unsupported for the most part.

Joel, however, didn’t really have much family to talk about even if he wanted to. He only had Tommy and Sarah. He mentioned them a total of two times; one because Sarah got sick at school and he had to go and get her, meaning he had to cancel his lunch with Asha. And the second was when he showed up late one night with a black eye due to Tommy getting under the skin of the wrong crowd. That night he had thought of going to you instead, but then decided against it. The next day he learned that you cleaned up Tommy’s wounds— it shouldn’t have made his heart twinge with jealousy, but it did.

They used each other, Joel and Asha, at least that was what he felt, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. They enjoyed each other's company, had fun together, slept together. She made him aware of things that he wasn’t even aware of and vice versa. Asha never had the desire to talk about the future or asked to come over. Her apartment was just fine, and they often met up there instead of anywhere else. She never asked about his personal life.

But that all changed as Joel was driving her from work to her home.

“Tommy talks a lot about this girl,” she muses, smiling lightly. “Your neighbor I think? He came and ask me for room decor tips, it was cute.”

“That’s the one,” Joel answers, shifting in his seat. “I knew he wasn’t clever enough to think of all of that on his own.”

“He did come up with the color himself, so it wasn’t all me.”

“He’s been braggin’ a lot, it’s annoyin’”

She presses a hand on his thigh, squeezing, she drags her fingers up the seam of his jeans. “Come on, Joel. He’s just happy. I think she’s good for him.”

“They’re both good for each other.” he nods, ignoring her hand resting right below his pelvis. “I’m actually heading there after dropping you off, you wanna come? I’m sure she’ll appreciate more female company.”

She laughs and pulls her hand back to her lap, “Just because we both have vaginas doesn’t mean we’ll get along,” Asha hums, pulling her bag up from between her legs. “However, I do think we would get along. Sadly, I have an assignment due and need to finish at least most of it before you come over.”

“Ah that’s right,” he pouts, annoyed at himself. “Sorry I forgot.”

“It’s okay, I forget half the things you do.”

“Is that normal for couples?”

She mulls over his question for a while, lips moving from side to side, a tick that she did whenever she was cooking up something clever. Then she stills, a wide smile spreading across her face.

“I think for us it is.”

Joel couldn't agree more, to be honest. He taps his thumbs against the steering wheel, pulling into her drive-thru. She quickly presses her lips into his cheekbone and he returns in like. Before she leaves, Asha’s hand stills at the handle, briefly turning to him.

“By the way did you do that thing I asked you?”

“Fuck,” he heaves out, letting his head drop. “I did, but I forgot it at home. I’ll bring it later tonight, promise.”

“I’ll be waiting with bated breath, Joel Miller,” she grins. “Who’s looking after Sarah?”

“She’s staying at her friends' tonight. Girls' night. She forced me to bake brownies.”

“Never pinned you down for a chef.”

“I’m not. We burned the first tray.”

You're feeling unreasonably happy. It’s a welcomed feeling, a soft tingle that starts from your toes, blossoms across your skin, and ends at your lips, forming a sheepish smile. You’re leaning against the doorframe looking at the now-empty room. You and Tommy had spread newspaper all over the floor, both of you wearing your scrappiest of clothes.

Tommy opens a can of paint and starts mixing it with a wooden stick.

“What are you doing that for?”

Tommy turns to you, a grin on his face. "Well sweetheart, we can't just slap this paint on the walls. We need to mix it thoroughly to get the perfect consistency. This ain’t like one of your paintings."

You tilt your head, your eyebrow raising, an amused smile blossoms over your lips. "First of all, we do need consistency too. And what's the perfect consistency to paint a wall? It’s a wall, shouldn’t be that hard."

Tommy dips the wooden stick into the can and lifts it out, letting the excess paint drip back into the can. "It should be smooth and creamy, not too thick and not too thin. You don't want it to be runny, or it will drip all over the place, but if it's too thick, it won't spread evenly."

He starts stirring the paint in a circular motion, his wrist moving in a steady rhythm. The sound of the stick scraping against the bottom of the can fills the room, creating a soothing hum.

"As you mix the paint," he continues, "you should periodically lift the stick out of the can and let the paint drip back in. That way, you can see if it's the right consistency. If it's too thick, you can add a bit of water to thin it out, and if it's too thin, you can add a bit more paint."

You nod, taking mental notes. "Got it. Smooth and creamy.”

Tommy grins. "Exactly, creamy is preferable. It responds better."

Your cheeks heat up at the response. Something about the way he rolls his tongue over the words make goosebumps rise on your skin, a tender shiver coursing through your body. With a soft shudder, you wrap your arms around yourself.

“When do you think Joel is coming over?”

“Don’t know. I think he’s with Asha.”

“Asha,” you repeat, no emotion behind the words but still, you feel the corner of your lips quivering. “Do they get along well?”

Tommy shrugs and slowly gets up, “I guess. Joel isn’t really the type to kiss and tell you know? And Asha…well, I guess it’s safe to say she’s pretty much the same.”

“Basically perfect for each other.”

“I mean, I probably wouldn’t go that far,” Tommy answers, scratching the back of his head. “Being so similar ain’t always a good thing.”

Silence follows and you can vaguely hear a car pulling in next door, must be Joel. Thoughts wildly swirling in your head, you want to take this opportunity to ask about Sarah’s mother, something Joel never talks about, and also something Sarah never mentiones. You lick your lips, nails digging into your forearms.

“Does it bother you?”

The question takes you by surprise, you blink before answering.

“Excuse me?”

“Does it bother you that he’s with someone?”

You try to keep your shock to a minimum. Tommy’s gaze reminds you of the yellow gaze of a hawk, piecing, overly observant. You swallow and let out a laugh with a desperate need to lighten the heavy air circling you both. You shake your head, walking up to Tommy, you give him a gentle pat with the back of your hand.

“Why would that bother me? I’m just making conversation.”

Tommy’s shoulders relax, dropping substantially. You’re surprised you hadn’t noticed how tense he was before.

“Sorry, I was just thinkin’ too much.”

Before you can answer a loud knock startles you both. “Must be Joel.

“You go, I’ll open the rest of the cans.”

Joel looks out of breath when you open the door for him, his chest heaves and he staggers forward, bracing himself by holding both knees.

“Didn’t mean to be late,” he says. “But I brought whiskey.”

“Is that why you went to your place first?”

He closes the door behind him, “You heard that?”

“Saw the lights.”

You notice a magazine in his hands but fail to see the title, it’s rolled up. In the other he has the bottle and you take it from him, heading to the kitchen, he follows.

“I also had to pick up somethin’ I promised Asha. I’m meetin’ up with her after this.”

Your chest tightens and you roll your shoulders to ground yourself before reaching to get three glasses. “Isn’t that going to be late?”

“I ain’t five.” he answers with a low chuckle. “But yeah it’s late but she has work to do and I promised you lot I’d be here.”

“You didn’t have to come. You can go.”

You wince at your own wording. It definitely came out harsh, no question about it. Taking a deep inhale, you feel the coolnes of the kitchen counter under your fingers, holding on to it. Joel’s presence looms near, his hand touching the small of your back. He’s not holding the magazine anymore.

“Are you alright darlin’?” he asks with a hint of worry. He drags his fingers up your spine, a sudden heat coils in your stomach. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m happy to be here, you know that.”

“I do, sorry,” you mutter, fingers grasping two glasses before pulling away. “Tommy’s in the room, making the paint all creamy and stuff.”

“He’s doing what now?”

When you look at him all the happiness from before comes surging back, he has the most horrified, flabbergasted expression you’ve ever seen. The first hints of laughter come out in short bubbles, and as Joel continues to stare, you burst, loud, chest-rattling sounds of joy clawing out of your lungs. His shocked expression shifts into a happy one, a grin playing at the side of his lips.

“I keep tellin’ him to stop sayin’ that,” he clicks his tongue. “I keep tellin’ him ‘saying smooth is enough’ he never listens.”

“It did make me laugh a lot though, so maybe it’s not so bad that he says that.”

“If it made you laugh it definitely ain’t a bad thing,” he answers, taking the bottle and heading toward the room. “I love hearin’ you laugh.”

You force your legs to move despite wanting to stop and stare behind him as he disappears through the hall. First the kiss on the cheek, and now this. Blood pools under your fingernails, confusion makes your head spin—but you still continue to walk. The thoughts that began to form quickly disappear when you enter the room, you see Joel leaning over Tommy.

“Why do you still use the word creamy?” he asks, hands in the air. “Why?”

“It’s a fun word,” Tommy answers, eyes finding yours mid sentence and winks.

Your mind races but you smile anyway. Tommy’s bizarre question from earlier must’ve riled me up, you think, stepping inside. There’s no logical reason why Joel dating Asha would bother you, he doesn’t belong to you, hell, you’re not even that close. You’re just acting up because him and Tommy are the first friends you made when you moved here. Just some friendly overprotectiveness, that’s all, you would act the same if Tommy was dating someone.

You nod as a response to your thoughts, yes, you definitely would act the same.

“Are you possessed or somethin’ what’s going on with you?”

You flinch at the question and turn to Tommy, he has that familiar lopsided smile, eyes amused.

“I’m good, I was just thinking of something.”

You don’t miss the way Joel looks at you, worry crossing his face, but you act as if you didn’t see him. Taking a deep breath, you slap your hands together.

“So, where do we start?”

The room heavily smells of paint. Toxicity is slowly inhaled through your nostrils, burns your throat, and swirls in your lungs. You feel slightly queasy. Joel is sitting across from you with his legs outstretched and hands palms pressed into the newspaper-covered floors to keep himself upright. Tommy has his legs crossed, he leans forward to grab a piece of chocolate. And you. You have his jacket thrown above your shoulders, the night chill settling easier now that the room is empty and the walls wet with paint.

While Tommy leans to grab the piece, his shirt rolls up his waist, you notice a tiny, crooked bullseye tattoo with two circles and a dot. Fascinated by this new discovery, you poke it, and, essentially, him. He flinches, giving you an almost offended look as he turns around.

“The hell are you doin’?” he covers the patch of skin with his hand.

“You have a tattoo.”

It’s a statement. Joel gives you two a crooked grin as he takes a sip from his glass. Tommy raises an eyebrow, a small dimple forming on his right cheek as he smiles.

“So? Just because I have a tat doesn’t mean you can poke me.”

“Sorry, I just didn’t know you had one.” your lips crack a smile. “It’s cute.”

You notice the soft flush coloring his cheeks, but you swiftly ignore it when Joel speaks, his voice low and scratchy from the late hour— and from inhaling the paint, probably.

“Tommy had the bright idea to be a tattooist when we were in high school. He begged for a kit every year for his birthday, and one year I actually managed to get together a bit of cash to buy him one of them shit stick and poke sets.”

“Awww, that’s adorable,” you grin, playfully shoving your shoulder into Tommy’s. The younger Miller shook his head, averting his eyes from his brother. “I’m assuming you got a tattoo too, right Joel?”

“No.”

Tommy scoffs at the sudden denial, he accusatorily points the piece of chocolate at his brother, then shoves it into his mouth, “Come on now, don’t be shy. Show off my masterpiece.”

“Some masterpiece,” he grunts, rolling his eyes. “But fine.”

You’re too stunned to actually notice the small patch of inked skin when he lifts his shirt, your mouth dry as sandpaper. He also has a crooked bullseye, a bit darker in shade compared to Tommy’s. The shape is right above his ribs, to the side of his torso. Some part of you wants to touch it as well, to follow the round pattern with the tips of your fingers but you fight the urge.

“Cool,” you say unintelligently and he releases the shirt, covering his skin once more. You turn your head to Tommy. “Why did you stop?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. I kind of just did.”

“Could be because you decided to dive head first into a war.” Joel says, with a fresh sounding bitterness.

Tommy’s shoulders raise, his brown eyes a shade darker with the glare pointed directly at his brother. Family is never easy, no matter how close or loving. You know that Tommy is riddled with regret much like your own brother, though at least Tommy had the sense to get out before falling in completely. You place a hand on Tommy’s thigh and squeeze, your heart breaking instantly at the way his eyes soften when he looks at you.

“If you decide to ever get back into it, I’d be happy to draw you up some designs.”

“If that means you’re gonna get back into drawin’ again sure, I’ll get back into tattooing. I just need to find that old set.”

“You’re not using me to experiment again,” Joel grins. “Just sayin’”

Getting back into drawing. Seriously how long has it been? Has it been long enough that it was even obvious to Tommy and Joel? You had done a couple of sketches, not really anything riveting. The end product always resembled either a dark hole or a dark room of some kind. It was like a manifestation of your thoughts, complicated, scratchy, overlapping. A sea of gruesome lines.

For you, painting has always been about expressing yourself in ways you couldn’t imagine. It could be a purple cat staring into a well. A city in ruins standing at the edge of a leaf. Sometimes it could be as simple as a girl in a hallway, threading upon a red carpet. Right now is a perfect time to express yourself. The pain, the void. But you can’t bring yourself to lift a brush or a pen. It’s too much. No image is clear enough for you to put on a canvas. Despite how complicated it looks, you feel that in the end art should be simple to make. Your hand should move in fluid motions, it shouldn’t be a struggle against waves of fear.

“Hey,” Tommy touches your cheek, for some reason, you lean into the touch and the same fingers slide to the back of your head, giving your scalp a pleasant scratch. “Are you good?”

“I was just thinking,” you answer, eyes momentarily finding Joel. He looks stiff as a rock. “I miss painting.”

“Then paint,” Joel says. “What’s stopping you?”

“Myself. I didn’t have this problem before but now I feel stuck. Everything comes to me all at once and all that combined results in an empty canvas.”

“What if we gave you something to draw?” he asks, earning a confused look from both Tommy and yourself. He smooths his thumb over the corner of his lip. “Like, a single thing. Maybe it can ease you in.”

“Did you have a suggestion?”

“A butterfly.”

Your eyes widen at the prospect of it; a creature with beautiful wings, something that could be any shape or size. A tiny thing that was an embodiment of elegance in most cultures. A god in some. You can imagine patterns above fluttering wings; orange, purple, pink. You’re reminded of fairies dancing and leaving behind fairy rings, you see a blue butterfly flying above into a blue sky that is paler in comparison.

“A butterfly,” you repeat, your lips feeling numb. Only then do you notice that Tommy’s fingers hand slid to your neck, cupping it gently. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Sarah loves butterflies,” he remarks as if reminiscing a pleasant memory. “I’m sure she’ll love whatever you make of them.”

And just like that, a sharp melody cuts through the conversation. Joel looks down at his phone, eyebrows raising with slight surprise and worry. His eyes snap to you both.

“Speak of the devil,” he says, getting up. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.”

He disappears, leaving you and Tommy alone. Sleep starting to make its way through the cracks of your reserve, you allow yourself to lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. His hand gently glides down from your neck to the small of your back, a comforting touch.

“Do you like the color?” he whispers.

You stare up at the ceiling, a soft light lavender gives the room a dream-like state. Your eyes shift back to him, a soft smile tugs at your lips.

“I do,” you hum. “But I think we should paint one of the walls a nice blue.”

“Blue?” he asks. “Why blue?”

“It reminds me of butterflies.”

You stare blankly at the white door in front of you. Both you and Tommy were taken aback when Joel asked you to come over after he brough Sarah back home. She refused to talk about it. And She asked for you specifically, Joel managed to learn what the issue was then. She’d gotten her period for the first time.

Which is why you have a pack of pads, painkillers and the last pieces of chocolate.

To be completely honest, you’re nervous as hell. It’s ridiculous really, considering Sarah is only fourteen years old. But alas, here you are, staring at the door with light filtering through the bottom gap. You’d told Joel to wait downstairs, and Tommy had offered to tidy up the room and throw out the newspapers. Right now, you’re regretting your decision of making Joel wait downstairs.

Sucking in a deep breath, you knock on the door twice. A weak sound barely reaches your ears.

“Come in.”

Sarah’s laying on the bed, curled up into a ball with her back turned to the door. Your throat tightens a bit. You don’t quite remember what your first period was like, but you know it must’ve been rough. It’s not easy to go to the bathroom and suddenly see blood stains all over your underwear. Briefly, you wonder if Joel ever talked to her about it. Did it come as a shock? They teach what periods are in school right?

Tentative, you make your way to the bed and gently sit at the foot of the bed. You notice her wincing a little.

“Are you alright?”

“‘T hurts.”

“I brought you painkillers,” you inform. “also a bit of chocolate.”

“I don’t want chocolate.”

“Tell me what you need then.”

“It was so humiliating,” she snaps, stretching her legs a bit but still refusing to look at you. “Everyone was there, well the girls, and I didn’t even notice it first. Sally did.”

You don’t know what entices you to do it, but you place a hand over her ankle. She clams down for a moment, takes a deep breath. She shudders.

“It was awful,” she chokes up. “They didn’t laugh or anything and it makes me even more upset that my first reaction was to call my dad.”

“That’s normal,” you answer, rubbing soothing circles into her clothed skin. “These things are difficult, your hormones are all over the place—”

“Gross.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that, “Yeah it’s pretty gross. I’m just trying to say that it’s normal to call your dad and I’m sure your friends will understand.”

“You’re too optimistic.”

“Am I?” you tease. “First time I’ve heard of it.”

Sarah sits up and pulls her knees close to her chest. She seems calmer now, more level-headed like her usual self. She holds your gaze, you could almost see a reflection of yourself in them. She’d been crying. Joel’s heart must’ve shattered into a million pieces.

“Is it always going to hurt this bad?”

“Kinda, yeah. I’m not going to try and bullshit you by saying it’s a beautiful thing. It’s not. But,” you offer her the last bit of chocolate, and she takes it with a small smile before plopping it on her tongue. “You’ll learn how to navigate it better. Just know that whatever you’re feeling, no matter the age, is always okay.”

“So I can still call my dad when I’m like…Fifty?”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to pick you up wherever you are.”

She snorts, “If he’s alive.”

“That man has the stubbornness of a mule. He’ll come back as a zombie if he has to.”

“That would actually be kinda cool.”

You smile as she thinks about it, her eyes looking up to the ceiling. Meanwhile, you take a peek at her clock, 2 AM. Time sure does fly.

“You should take a shower,” you say, turning back to Sarah. “And here, I brought you some pads. Do you want me to show you how to use it?”

She shakes her head, “I’m good. Thanks by the way…I…appreciate it.”

“I’m here whenever you need me. I’m only a knock away.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be a phone call away?”

“I don’t think that fits the whole neighbor theme.”

Before you leave, you notice a butterfly hanging from her window. A small smile touches your lips.

It’s blue.

“Is she okay?”

You’re not at all surprised when you see Joel with his head between his hands, elbows painfully digging into the kitchen counter. The circles under his eyes seem a shade darker, the white of his eyes stained with red.

“She’s alright don’t worry. She going to take a shower now, and use the pads I gave her. I also brought her painkillers that she might want to take before bed,” you had unknowingly brought the box down with you. You place it in front of Joel, his gaze drops. His lips move slightly as he silently reads the brand. “There isn’t much in there you should buy another one tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he answers, letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’ll buy you a box too.”

“No need, you’ve already done a lot for me. Helping your daughter navigate the wonders of womanhood is the least I could do.” you answer with a heaping amount of sarcasm in your tone.

“I’d be lost without you, neighbor.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you grin and rest your hands on top of the counter as well. “You could’ve asked Asha to talk to her if I wasn’t around.”

His face falls, a sudden chill settling around you both. He shakes his head, the crease between his brows deep. “She specifically asked for you. Besides the thing with Asha—”

His words come to a sudden halt as if he doesn’t know how to describe the situation. Tommy had said that they were similar in character, you wonder if Asha is better at expressing her thoughts, you can’t imagine two people having the same struggle being together.

Joel suddenly takes your hands into his own, eliciting a soft gasp from the back of your throat.

“She asked for you,” he repeats again. “And I wouldn’t trust anyone else with a matter this sensitive.”

His hands are warm but his fingertips are cold. With an overwhelming need to touch, you smooth your thumb over the mountains of his knuckles, dipping between the valleys and climbing uphill. He seems to have the same need. You can see the turmoil in his eyes as he leans closer, lips an inch away, he holds your gaze. A moment worth painting, you think, the suspense, the aching need, to be forced apart. Unlike you, Joel doesn’t explore the depths of your skin, so you continue to do so for the both of you.

Your breath is lodged in your throat, a lump. You turn over his hand, tracing the lifelines and vanished marks of his skin. His pulse is fast under the pads of your fingers, the vein like a river overflowing across his forearm. You stop at the wrist, only your eyes allowed to continue the journey.

Staring at his skin, visions of what Sarah’s mother must’ve looked like flash before your eyes. You wonder if she saw the same things that you did, you wonder what possessed her to leave all this behind—the scarred skin, the soft voice, the dark brown eyes, the daughter, the home, the life.

Then you’re abundantly made aware of another’s presence when your eyes follow the slope of his right shoulder and see a darkened mark on his neck. Asha has been with him more intimately, you wonder what she sees when she looks at him. Is it the same as you? Does she see the sadness lurking under his skin? The worry of never being able to be enough for those around him? Does she understand what he feels?

Do you?

“I should go,” you exclaim, pulling away your hands like they’ve been burned. “Let me know if she needs anything else.”

You’re halfway to the door when you feel his fingers circling your wrist, not enough to physically hold you but enough to make his presence known. You hear the words spilling from his lips ‘wait’ he says, ‘let me walk you over’ but it’s too late, you’re out the door, throwing yourself into the chill of the night.

It’s too much, it’s too sudden, it’s too bizarre.

Your fingertips are still tingling with the sensation of his skin underneath yours, the soft hairs, the tiny bumps littered over. It reminds you of the smooth feeling of oil over canvas, all you want to do is press your palms and spread your fingers, touching him, you want to feel everything.

Tommy’s waiting on the porch, he gives you a look. “Is Sarah alright?”

“She’s fine,” you say, a bit breathless. “She’s…yeah she’s going to be fine.”

“Good,” he nods. “Anyway I should head back home, I cleared up the newspapers and I’ll come back for the cans tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

His mind seems to be whirring because he doesn’t notice how slowly you’re speaking, he doesn’t notice the frantic beating of your heart. Tommy nods to himself, and leans in, you feel the brush of his lips against your ear.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

His lips are on your cheek, soft and wet. He smells of cigarettes and paint, but something sweet lingers below the surface. Your heart drops, your stomach churns. The feeling disappears as quickly as it came. Before you can say anything, he’s already at the end of the three steps you have.

“Goodnight,” Tommy calls out.

You watch like a deer in headlights as the car moves away, the red light slowly disappearing into the distance. You touch where he had kissed. It wasn’t the first time, but it feels different. It reminds you of when Joel kissed you, a similar feeling. The only difference is that instead of stopping time, you feel like you’re drowning in it.

Then you realize.

Tommy has feelings for you.

You clearly have feelings for Joel.

And you think Joel might have feelings for you too.

Your fingers twitch, butterflies flutter wildly both in your stomach and in your head.

You head inside.

You trudge into the bedroom, the scent of wet paint clinging to your skin like a suffocating blanket. You had brough along with you the magazine Joel had left on the coffee table. Sitting on the bed, you flip through the pages, but the content is dull, littered with construction jargon that is foreign to you.

Just as you're about to give up on the magazine, a photograph falls out from between the pages, landing on your lap. A photograph, you deduce, picking it up from your lap. It feels fresh, glossy, and slightly uncomfortable to the touch. You gaze at the image, and it takes a moment for your brain to register what you're seeing.

Every ounce of blood is drained from your face, all that heat pooling between your legs. your eyes go wide.

It’s Joel.

Half of his face is out of frame and he’s shirtless but you recognize him. Saliva floods your mouth. It’s not a very neatly taken picture, probably time adjusted so he could pose, which explains the slight blur of the background. His jeans hang low on his hips, unbuttoned, and his fingers disappear beneath the waistband, hinting at what lies beneath.

You trace the way his muscles are firm under his skin, the softness of his stomach, the faint trail of hair leading down to his navel.

The faint sight of the bullseye tattoo on his ribs solidifies to you that this is indeed Joel. You’re lightheaded. When he said he stopped by home to pick up something for Asha you hadn’t realized that this would be it, a suggestive, nearly nude, photo. Now you just feel stupid for assuming he could be into you, clearly, he and Asha are both comfortable with each other enough for stuff like this.

You continue to stare, the blood rush loud in your ears. You memorize every curve, every little detail of his body. The small scars littered across his chest, the unsure hint of a smile that’s mostly hidden, the pebbled nipples due to the cool air of the room. You want to see what lies under his pants, you want to see the rest of him and engrave that into memory. You want his body to burn yours, make you into something beautiful—make you into art.

You sneak your hand between your legs, one hand still propping the photo up. You never actually masturbated to a picture before, mostly videos or just your own imagination. There’s something…interesting about it. Your imagination is more vivid somehow as you look at the picture, you can almost feel the warmth of his body blanketing yours, those thick fingers circling your clit and slipping inside.

A soft moan breaks from your lips. You feel blood heating your cheeks, your skin incredibly warm and head dizzy from staring at him. You imagine having him in your mouth, your tongue teasing that sensitive spot right under the head of his cock. You think of the sounds he’d make, how guttural they would be.

You arch your back as you imagine his thick cock pressing into you, he pulls you closer to him. His hips move in a circular motion, pushing deeper and deeper into you as you moan in pleasure. His hands grasp your hips and he pulls you closer.

Your eyes flutter open as you imagine his lips on yours, tasting the sweat that is dripping from your skin. He flicks his tongue, exploring your mouth and sending sparks throughout your body. His hands move up your back, slowly tracing your spine until he reaches your shoulders. You feel his hands slide up around your neck as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss.

Your breath hitches as you feel the coarse hairs at the base of his cock rub against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You reach your hands around his back, pulling him even closer as his hips continue to move against yours. Your pleasure builds, and soon you let out a loud moan as you feel yourself cresting over the edge.

You imagine yourself collapsing against him, panting softly as the pleasure slowly ebbs away from your body. You feel the imaginary warmth of his embrace still surrounding you. It’s painful almost. Feeling him when he’s not here. Your heart hurts, chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. You take a sharp inhale, shaking your head.

Tears blur your vision as you place the photo back between the pages of the magazine.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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arent-i-the-fairest · 2 years

Text

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

some staff members taking care of a sick reader. (platonic)

characters : dire crowley, divus crewel, sam

dire crowley

“headmaster, are you sure you’re fit for this? because this place has plenty of nurses that are.”

your comment made crowley gasp and stop what he was doing. before he had the chance to start running around bawling, you had to backtrack.

“i mean— i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to call you incompetent or anything! it’s just that i, uh… don’t wanna inconvenience you? yeah! y’know, since you’re so busy all the time..” you sputtered, offering him an awkward grin.

crowley held a hand up to his heart, tearing up. “oh! how kind of you, child! it seems my benevolence has rubbed off on you! but not to worry! why, i have plenty of time to finish my work later!” he sniffled.

you immediately relaxed. thank god he bought it! but man, are you gonna make it out alive in his care? is it too late to call someone a bit more reliable?

“i will nurse you back to perfect health! ohoho, how incredibly kind of me~!” he laughs as he skipped away to god knows where.

he’s outraged at the assumption that he doesn’t know how to care for sick people! taking care of you can’t be that hard! he can cook you a hearty meal, and… and read you a bed time story! that’ll make you better! hell, maybe he can even sing you a lullaby! he’s pretty sure he’s got a bandaid or two too if you need them!

—yeah, no, he’s not the most ideal person for the job. the most helpful things he could do is fetch you your medicine and refill your glass of water when it’s empty. and cheer you up, you suppose. he’s very entertaining despite not meaning to be.

you flinch as the door suddenly slams open. standing there in the doorway is crowley with a bowl in hand with a goofy smile on his face.

“please excuse the wait! now here, i’ve made you some soup! i taste tested it, and it’s delicious, if i do say so myself!” he smiles proudly, not at all hiding his haughtiness.

looking at the meal, it actually did look quite good. smelled really good too! you frowned, feeling a bit guilty. maybe you were a bit too harsh, thinking he was totally incapable…

“now, enough of my chatter! open wide, here comes the airplane!” crowley cooed as he started waving a spoonful of the soup towards your mouth.

“i’m not a child, headmaster!” you complained, yet still opened your mouth as the spoon came closer. you drank the soup— and immediately recoiled at the taste. “it’s repulsive!”

divus crewel

“good grief.. i told you not to go out in the rain with those other pups!” crewel hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “look where you are now!”

though the scolding was a bit harsh, he was right. you were sitting in bed with a runny nose, itchy red eyes, and a high fever. while running around and playing in the rain with your friends was fun, it was definitely not worth this.

“honestly, just what am i going to do with you?” crewel looked at you with a softer expression. you sit in silence as he sighs, unboxing the medicine he brought for you.

he’s strict, even while you’re sick. he watches you like a hawk for most of the day, cooks you only the healthiest of meals, doesn’t let you leave your bed unless you absolutely need to, and keeps track of how much time is left until you need to take your medicine down to the second. he’s aware he’s being a bit overbearing, but he just wants to see you better as soon as possible.

“hey, now that i think about it, classes are still in session right now. are alchemy classes cancelled today since you aren’t there?”

crewel scoffs. “of course not. i wouldn’t just give everyone a free day off. but i also don’t trust a single pup using chemicals unsupervised, so i have the headmaster substituting for me.” he said. you quirked an eyebrow and he returned the look.

“you seriously trust the headmaster enough to let him look after a class full of rambunctious, clumsy— and sorry for saying this, but sometimes downright dumb students? who are all handling dangerous chemicals?”

you could see concern growing on crewel’s face as he considered the chaos that could be happening right now in his classroom.

“... perhaps i should check up on them.”

sam

“knock knock, little imp! i heard from my friends from the other side that you’re sick. is that true?” sam asked as he entered your room.

you weakly turned over to look at him and nodded. “it sure is.”

“no worries, i’m here to help ‘ya! just tell me whatcha need and you got it! i’m only here for half an hour though. i’m sorry, kid.” he frowned. “i gotta get back to my shop, but you can always call me!”

sam, while he hates to leave you alone sick, still has to manage his shop. he’s not too concerned though, he knows you’re plenty capable of caring for yourself! but every few hours, he’ll come back to check up on you. each time does, he brings you food/snacks and sometimes a weird (but ultimately cool) knick-knack to come with it. just a little something to brighten your mood!

you perk up at the sound of knocking.

“hey hey~! guess who’s back?” sam whistled. “i brought you some dinner. and your favorite drink! and this little clay statue. ain’t he neat?”

you nodded, thanking him as he put the stuff down beside you. the statue caught your eye, so you picked it up and played around with it. it looked oddly familiar.

“hey wait! i swear i’ve seen this thing sitting on your desk for the past few months..” you flip it around in your hands, analyzing it.

“yeah, it’s been a favorite of mine. there’s actually a funny story behind it if you’re interested in hearin’ it.” sam said, leaning against your bed’s headboard. you looked up at him with interest clear in your eyes.

“ooh, tell me!”

“heh, alright!” sam laughed, ruffling your hair. “so a couple years ago…”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #dire crowley x reader #divus crewel x reader #twst sam x reader #gn reader

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pileofmush · 3 months

Text

warning: yes we're talking about taz skylar. yes i am opinionated.

i'm making this as a response to the posts i've seen floating around on my dash that are promoting neutrality, and, most annoyingly, whining about the backlash he's receiving.

you guys had your turn to speak so i guess i'll take mine!

no, this is not directed at any particular blog. yes, i am biased, and i'm not going to pretend that i'm not. and finally no, i’m not posting this to seem virtuous or some shit like that. glad we got that cleared up.

anywho. you guys are annoying me 😭

it's always #freepalestinetillit'sbackwards until your favorite british blorbo is questioned. questioned, rightfully so, mind you.

let's go over the facts:

this was posted by twitter user knsiara yesterday morning. apparently, people are also getting on taz about who he follows on social media, but that's none of my concern. i'm aware it takes effort to cull and monitor the values of those you follow. i don't hold that against him. moving on.

the real concern is the charity that he was directly promoting. as in, the charity that he's presumably donated to and encouraged his 1.9 million followers to donate to as well, seeing as it was linked right there in his instagram bio.

so! there is a bit of confusion about who the red cross supports. i've done some basic googling, and yeah it's pretty vague, so i do understand the confusion. it seems the red cross provides aid to both sides, which has already put me off (in no circumstance would i provide aid to the country enacting a genocide. because remember, it's less-so a conflict and more-so a genocide.) but that's beside the point. as you'll note in the right-most screenshot up above, it's the fundraising for the british red cross (BRC), in particular, that has raised some eyebrows.

so who does the BRC support, then?

there we have it. taken right from their site. i've even taken the liberty to highlight it for you: as it stands, the british red cross provides aid to "israel and occupied palestinian territory.”

what does that mean? well, i'm glad you asked. this leads to my next segment...

the assumptions:

does the BRC support palestine? no.

do they support israel? well, you read their words. it's not the clearest statement in the world, but it's to my understanding that the BRC supports israel, as it clearly subscribes to the zionist sentiment that palestinian land belongs to israel. hence, palestinian occupied territory. zionist rhetoric. now, that doesn't sound like an organization that has the people of palestine's best interests in mind, does it?

"but-but that doesn't make taz a zionist!"

oh, brother. he's donating to pro-israel organizations and encouraging his followers to do the same!! let's get serious here.

there is of course the possibility that he didn't research the charity. that he didn't know what he was promoting. and sure! it's possible. everyone's human. we all make mistakes.

but then he went and tweeted that vague as hell tweet implying that he sides with israel…

if it was an honest mistake; if he stood with palestine, he’d say so. morgan davies did, so let’s not pretend it’s a “protecting his job” move… (expanded on towards the end).

now, since i don't follow him, i don't have the timeline of things, such as when he added the BRC to his bio, or when people started asking him about it, but, i mean. the BRC was in his bio, now it's not. he posted the tweet two days ago, and has since deleted it. maybe it's bad timing, but, i'm not inclined to believe it is.

which leads me to my point that i'm highly suspicious of the taz-riders right now...

especially the ones outright complaining about him getting "canceled" and whatnot.

people use the word “cancel” so loosely now. it’s pretty much lost all meaning. choosing not to support taz skyler for his abysmal political opinions does not equate to him getting “canceled.”

dissing him on twitter does not equate to him getting “canceled.” girl no one is taking his netflix check away—he’s got a bag, he’s got a second season, he’s got his loyal stans: he‘ll come back from this. and honestly, throwing the term “cancel” around is ridiculous when we’re talking about matters like palestinian genocide.

yes, taz might have worded his response poorly under stress. but doesn't it still hold implications? what else can we assume if his response to people accusing him of promoting and funding israel is... we have different opinions, and that's okay 🤍

c'mon taz, you can do a little better than that, can't you?

so that's why i'm confused about why others are confused, regarding the backlash. we, the people, have such little control over the shit that’s happening in the world: of course we’ll exercise what little control that we have…

we’ll choose what we consume and who we monetarily support according to our own values.

people wanna talk about "parasocial relationships" and "putting him on a pedestal," but bae, i promise you, it's nothing personal. from me, at the very least. i was never a rider or a hater of taz, personally. but c'mon. he publicly promoted a pro-israel organization, and then made a vague nothing-tweet in response. backlash is warranted.

maybe you should reconsider why you’re so willing to ride for this man you don’t actually know… if we’re gonna bring up parasocial relationships, and all.

that doesn’t mean i support sending him death threats or doxxing him or anything like that, but i mean... if people have opinions, they're gonna talk 😭 getting called out on twitter is not the end of the world.

anywho. give him the benefit of the doubt if you want. but i think he's made his stance quite clear in his actions and inaction.

if you still want to simp over a man who thinks political neutrality toward genocide is acceptable, go ahead and take the watermelon outta your bio. there's no need for performative activism on this site. just admit to yourself that you're only willing to support palestine until it makes you uncomfortable.

as for support of the OPLA, that is, obviously, up to you. i, for one, won't be streaming it on netflix anytime soon. but, there are some actors in the OPLA who do support palestine, such as morgan davies, who publicly shot down the losers trying to angle that palestine is anti lgbtq+ and therefore does not deserve support (as if intersectionality and queer palestinians don't exist, lord) ...so, this is a nuanced convo and i may change my mind when season 2 rolls around if i feel the pros outweigh the cons. or i'll just follow morgan davies into their next project. whichever feels right.

what i won't do, however, is make this site comfortable for the taz-riders lmaoo, because there were a few too many posts advocating for him than i’m comfortable with from my fellow fans of one piece. one piece, of all fandoms, and we’re divided on the morals and ethics of supporting genocide—good lord— nor will i support anyone else on the OPLA cast who has a terrible take on what’s taking place in palestine. repeat after me, there's no such thing as neutrality when it comes to genocide.

free palestine, today. tomorrow, and the next. class dismissed.

posting this on 1/5/24, 7:00 pm EST. as of right now, taz hasn’t come out with a statement addressing the backlash. but hey! opinions can change and i hope he’ll change mine, for what it’s worth.

#mushy speaks!—✶#taz skylar #free palestine #this what i do when i have free time i guess #if u disagree with me… argue with the wall tbh

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clearancecreedwatersurvival · 7 months

Text

But Caitie, why are you so pressed about bad faith criticism from book fans about the wheel of time show? Great question I’m glad you asked.

From what I have observed book fans who are saying that it’s a bad adaptation and not worth watching have criticisms that usually boil down to one or all of these three objections.

1. They’re spending time in the show on characters who aren’t the ta’veren boys/Rand

2. Any changes have been made at all in order to adapt the story to film

3. There are too many queer characters and actors of color

All three of these talking points became a common refrain during season one, largely driven by the hilariously un-self aware manpilled alt-right shitheads in the /r/whitecloaks subreddit which got shut down for harassing other subreddits in 2022. It should be obvious that a lot of the motivation there was a misogynistic and racist misreading of a deliberately feminist and multicultural book series. If you think RJ would find this diverse show full of badass and well fleshed out women a poor adaptation of his work you are kidding yourself.

And regarding the other less obviously white supremacist complaints: Rand is not the only important character. Anyone who has read past like book two should be well aware that every main character’s point of view is important to the overall narrative. There are only 8 seasons in which to get through all of those main characters’ arcs. Of course they are starting them all now. Are the boys getting less screen time than they get pov chapters early in the books? Sure. This is necessary because once again, the ta’veren boys are Not the only characters that matter. I don’t know why people are so surprised that ALL of the main characters of a book series with over a dozen recurring pov characters are going to have character arcs.

And again if you’re just mad that it’s more queer and polyamorous. Fuck off.

There are valid criticisms to be made about this show if you engage with the show in good faith and judge it by its own merit instead of just comparing it scene by scene to the books. For instance I think it’s fairly obvious that the first season suffered as a result of late stage rewrites made to account for a shortened episode count, and Perrin’s arc in particular was off to a rough start.

But in season 2 I think they are doing a lot of things right, and the change of speeding up his acceptance of his wolfkin powers is a Very good one I think.

And the rest of this season rules to be totally honest. All of the Moiraine and Lan stuff is Great and really sets up for later events so well. And I am enjoying Everything about how the show is handling the Forsaken so far. Episode 4 was my favorite yet, Lanfear is fucking Perfect. This season is absolutely nailing character beats for all the most important characters, and doing excellent character work around the major themes of the book series and setting up for future key events. Every scene with any of the Aes Sedai is my favorite. And some things have been markedly improved by the show over the books. I cannot get over how good the team up of Mat and Min is so far. And the normalization of polyamory in the culture of randland is Brilliant for the long term series.

If this show gets cancelled because so many of the book fans refuse to even try to engage with it for what it is instead of what isn’t, it will be a goddamn tragedy. And if you’re just really disappointed that you can’t as easily skip the scenes with the girls the way you skipped the POV chapters of all the women when reading the books then please take a big step back and ask yourself if unchecked misogyny is a good look in 2023.

#still so fucking funny tbh that a bunch of neo fascists were like ‘we identify with the white cloaks and that’s a good thing actually’#i do not think they understand the books they were so passionate about #wheel of time #wot show #wot on prime #wot #unreasonably attractive fandom #caitie speaks #wot show spoilers #a fan of a feminist book series: there are too many girls in this show

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euphoricfilter · 1 year

Note

Can I request a drabble with Yoonji? If so, could it be a fluffy flower shop/tattoo parlour au with "I don't think anyone could ever be as lovely as you.", please? Thank you! 💜

summer mornings and strawberries:

pairing: tattoo artist! yoonji (yoongi) x f. reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au || cisswap || established relationship

summary: sometimes it's hard to put your love for someone into words

word count: 1.2k

tags/ warnings: fluff, wlw, goth gf yoonji x pastel princess m/c (you know that’s right), minor suggestive content but no real smut

notes: women <3 this one felt harder to keep in the 1k boundary because they’re both just so cute :( i might write a short sequel for mommy yoonji since it wouldn't fit into this part if people are interested

drabble requests are closed

drabble masterlist || my main masterlist

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Over here, baby”

You perk up, Jimin long forgotten as your girlfriend waves you over from her office.

“Sorry, Minnie” you brush him off as you skip into Yoonji’s arms, completely ignorant to the fact she keeps eye contact with the receptionist as she presses a sweet kiss to your cheek.

Jimin snorts, eyes flickering down to your skirt that barely covers your ass.

Your mouth falls open into a gasp as Yoonji grabs the meat of your thigh, teasing in the way she knows has arousal slicking up your panties. You always had been easy to rile up.

“You’re late” she murmurs, hairs on the back of your neck standing on end as her breath tickles your cheek.

“The shop was quite busy today,” you tell her as she kicks the door to her office closed, tattoo equipment already set up for you.

“You should really tell your boss you can’t do overtime”

You frown, “But she says I’m the best at bouquets”

“I’m sure you are the best, my love. Now take a seat, I canceled my next appointment so we can spend the afternoon together”

“You didn’t have to do that” you giggle, sweater shucked off on the floor somewhere that she picks up, folding it over the back of her chair as you settle down.

“I don’t wanna hear any of that”

“Yes ma’am” you mock salute.

Her eyebrows furrow, silent offer to be a brat, though by now she knows you’re aware of the consequences.

Her chair kicks backwards as she leans down for a kiss. Purposeful as her lips mold with yours, barely enough room for either of your to breathe until she’s pulling back, and your pink blush is hiding the red that coats your cheeks rosy.

You’d always found something so utterly mesmerizing about Yoonji, her beauty that of a black dahlia, though you think she was more of a pink rose; gentle.

Someone you aspired to be, so confident in her own skin, she knew exactly what she wanted, and made sure she got it.

Sometimes it felt like you couldn’t word exactly how you felt about her, ‘love’ perhaps an umbrella term for all the little things you adored about her mere existence. No amount of flowers with lovely meanings, or poems about undying love that you write in little notes for customers (that had definitely been stolen from the internet), is never truly enough.

Your friends had drilled the idea in their heads that Yoonji was reserved, and didn’t know how to show her love the right way, ‘cold’ even. A word you had never, and will never use to describe her.

Because it seemed like she knew how to show her love for you, better than you did for her.

The world had always had a split view on the term ‘opposites attract’, that you’re good for each other until you’re in a relationship, and then it all goes to shit because you’re two very different people.

Yoonji never minded how you blasted your music over her speakers, the music she would overwise despise if it weren’t you. Just like how you never liked the hard-hitting rap she absolutely loved, though hummed along as she cleaned the house.

She never minded how your clothes had split up the blacks of her hoodies and jeans in the closet, or the cute little bedspread you insisted on having because you didn’t like her grey one.

Or how the counter in the bathroom had been permanently doused in glittery eyeshadow. Where shampoo smelt of warm summer mornings and strawberries, instead of muted and never-really-there comfort. Your existence now a permanent fixture in her, no, your home.

It felt as though Yoonji worshipped your very existence, held you in her hands, delicate like you were a daisy, or a gentle buttercup.

Your person that you couldn’t imagine a future without.

Her art is forever inked into your skin, art that no one else in the world will ever have because maybe tattoos were one of her love languages. Something in your heart squeezing, emotions mushy, that make you want to gush like you were in high school again when you catch a glimpse of her work etched into your skin in the mirror. The work she had spent hours designing specifically for you.

Yoonji didn’t mind initiating physical contact, something you’d always shied away from, something she’d taught you was okay to want, that yearning wasn’t bad. That touch is just many of the languages of love that the both of you shared.

She liked to cook or take you on picnics in the summer, watching you twirl in dresses made of satin, or smudge your lipstick with a kiss before she helps you reapply it. Only to kiss you again.

She calls you pretty and loved your body in ways that showed you self-love wasn’t selfish. Because if she could love you, then it shouldn’t be impossible to love yourself.

Yoonji kissed you under the stars and liked how the moon made you shine like a delicate fairy, always so beautiful in her eyes. She held your hand while you ordered food, and visits you during her lunch breaks with coffee and cakes or little sandwiches cut into triangles.

Every little brush of her fingers over your bare skin had been etched into your mind, hours spent apart missing her even though you knew you’d be going home to your apartment, greeted with a kiss that always has you melting into her chest.

Over the years your love language had morphed into your job just like hers, and Yoonji found it endearing how you’d come home with flowers for her, test runs for the shop's new theme though you seem to always keep her in mind as you hone your craft.

And as much as you worried that you were never enough, always so consumed by thoughts she knew were pointless, Yoonji loved you nonetheless.

“I don’t think anyone could be as lovely as you,” she tells you one evening, your head resting on her thighs, careful as she brushes your hair after you’ve both taken a shower together.

You blink up at her, tongue wetting your bottom lip, “You’re a lot lovelier than I am”

“Not true” she laughs, thumb rubbing over your jaw, “Besides, you’re the only one that sees me like this”

“Is it selfish that I like it that way?”

She hums, tucking her hair behind her ear, sharp eyes never straying away from yours. “It’s okay to be selfish, you know”

“When it comes to you, I don’t mind” you smile, rolling onto your stomach.

You blink up at her through your lashes.

Her lips quirking upwards, always finding it hard not to smile when she’s with you, “I love you, flower”

“I really love you too” you smile, “And I think I’ll love you forever”

She tilts her head, “That’s a long time. Think you can put up with me for that long?”

“As long as you can put up with me for that long, then I don’t mind”

“You act as though you’re hard to put up with” she pushes your hair out of your face, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, then your cheek, nose, then each eyelid as you lean into the palm of her hand that cups your cheek.

“Forever, then” you whisper, eyes barely open as you chase her lips for another kiss.

She hums, “Forever it is”

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts fic #yoongi imagine #yoongi x reader #min yoonji #yoongi fic #yoonji x reader #bts non idol au #bts #bts yoongi #yoongi x you

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felinecryptid · 4 months

Text

Black Holes and Stars

or Pav really wants to kiss Hobie, dammit

as always, translations are at the end xx

also the songs are clickable (they take you to Spotify <3)

Pav was never going to order an uber again.

The first two cabs cancelled because of the new year’s rush and the third cab they ordered and had it reach them had a milkshake spill on one seat. Making the seating capacity three instead of four, for their four person group. Pav’s heart jumped into his throat as Gwen called shotgun and Miles called dibs on the seat behind Gwen. Leaving Hobie and Pav to share one seat. Where Pav was right now, sitting deathly still on Hobie’s lap, aware of every shift of fabric, every little breath fanning across the back of his neck, every little hum when at the end of his deep rebervating huffs of laughter.

Now, Pav has had prolonged contact with Hobie, but in the form of extremely complex handshakes, the occasional headlock and the most frequent of all, being thrown straight onto Hobie during fights. This was different. This was intentional and intimate. This was feeling the intoxicating heat of his body for all of the forty minutes of the ride. This was a situation where Hobie could feel the goosebumps erupt all over his skin with the brush of a finger. This was dangerous. Pav zoned back to the conversation, having lost track of it an eternity ago.

“-I’m actually offended that they’re allergic to kiwis,” Miles continued, deep into storytelling to notice Gwen's sickening smitten stare. “Like, they look like they should love kiwis, but noo, they are allergic.”

“Wha’s a kiwi, anyway?” Hobie asked, leaning towards Miles over the spilt milkshake.

Gwen turned to Hobie the same time Miles whipped around. Pav tried his best to shoot an incredulous look at Hobie without shifting his body, a task that proved to be almost impossible.

Silence blanketed them, broken by Kamariya playing on the radio and the occasional horn in the traffic.

“Hobie, have you never had a kiwi?” Gwen had almost fully turned around in her seat and Pav didn't have the heart to point out the police officer scanning the traffic.

“My world’s on the brink of total anarchical collapse, ‘aven't got a scooby ‘bout kiwis because I’ve got other things to do,” Hobie shrugged, fiddling with the window button.

“My bad, Hobie. We need to fix that immediately,” Gwen nodded.

“Wha’? My universe?”

“No, not that. Not yet, I’m talking about a kiwi.”

“Damn, an’ here I though’ you were gon’ fix me problems.”

“Your problem is a government. I can't deal with my own father, the government is a whole another cake.”

“Ye, ye’ those are the fightin’ words, Gwendy.” Hobie leaned out further yet, putting his hand on Pav’s waist, for balance-

Don't ask Pav the colour of anything, he doesn't know. He’s pretty sure his lungs are beeping the same error message as his brain.

“Eat shit, Brown.”

“Alright children, càlmate."

“Ain't you the underage un’?”

Pav was hearing words, but his remaining three brain cells were trying to process the warmth of Hobie’s hand seeping through the thin linen of his shirt, the contours of his hand perfectly fitting around Pav’s side. Waves of shivers ran down his skin like the waxing and waning shadows cast by the amber lights outside.

Pav looked at Hobie, neck straining, to see if he could see his thoughts in his eyes, and instead met his own eyes, thoughts and emotions all reflected in the kaleidoscope of Hobie’s eyes.

Pav wasn't the only one feeling the pull, right? He wasn't. He couldn't be the only one, when Hobie’s eyes grew impossibly deeper, the browns receding, like a blackhole and its glowing event horizon, and Pav had no choice but to crash. A little bit more and-

“Hey lovebirds! We’re here!” Miles called, rapping sharply on their side of the window, opening the door.

Pav reeled back, ridiculously thinking about spaghettification, because his face was on fire and his legs felt like cooked noodles.

“I’ll give ya ‘lovebirds’, you fucker-” Hobie launched himself at Miles, chasing him around, leaving Pav to pay.

“Bhaiya, zara QR code dikhana, PhonePe kar deta hun.” Pav nodded at the driver, who was distractedly chewing some gum.

The guy took out the code on his phone. “A word of advice; do something about that guy. You two were painful, literally ankhon se ek durse ke kapde utaar rahe the. Abhi I need to go, dry clean the seat where the last customer sat, and sprinkle ganga jal where you both sat. Thank you and happy new year, I hope no one else has to witness you both- doing whatever that was- I feel like I need a shot of ganga jal as well.”

Saying Pav felt mortified was a massive understatement. He wanted the earth to crack open under him and swallow him whole as he paid the money, with a generous tip.

Hobie hung back a bit away from earshot, but that still didn't stop him from bugging Pav about what took him so long. Pav valiantly did not blush more as he refused to elaborate.

***

“You have games here?” Miles’ eyes shone with excitement. “I thought we were just going to get drunk on cheap drinks and dance while other couples make out.”

“You can't technically drink yet, new guy.” Pav pointed at the thick, black ’X’ on his hand.

“I can. I did. At Hobie’s,” Miles grumbled as Hobie put an arm around him.

“Yea’, me’ mandem fucked aroun’ the nuclear subs at fourteen, you definitely could drink and smoke when you are seventeen."

“Stop that, you ass,” Miles hit Hobie upside the head, ducking out of his chokehold. “All of you are so mean to me.”

“I’m not mean to you,” Gwen poked Miles in the shoulder. “I am literally so nice to you.”

“You are the worst offender, Gwendy, you didn't let me ride shotgun.”

“Awwh, but I really wanted to.”

“I wanted to, too.”

“I could make it up to you,” Gwen leant closer to Miles, taking his hand. Pav could see the dark blush take up residence on Miles’ face. Before Pav could interrupt, Gwen was pulling him away, into the crowd with a shout of ‘see ya’ around!’

“We should get us a drink.” Hobie’s breath tickled the shell of Pav’s ear, and he couldn't have stopped the shivers if he had wanted to.

“We can't, Maya Auntie would hit me with the jhaadu if she sniffs out anything suspicious on me.”

“Does tha’ mean I shouldn' drink either?”

“Why wouldn't you? I want you to have a good time.”

“‘know plenty ways to ‘ave a good time that don't include no tumblin’ down the sink.” Pav could hear the smirk in his voice. He didn't know what he could do other than melt into a puddle on the floor. Still, he shot him a mock glare.

“Smooth like sandpaper, bada aaya Romeo,” Pav managed, and for a second he believed in his own bravado. “How about I show you some tumbling?” Pav hooked his finger in Hobie’s collar, pulling him down, down, down, till their faces were level. Pav could feel himself getting lost in the deep black of Hobie's eyes. “Kya bolti tu?” Pav murmured, voice breathless and husky.

Pav could see the exact moment when Hobie’s self restraint shattered. The irises of Hobie's eyes were swallowed up by the gravitational pull of the black of his eyes, and Pav couldn't wait to be swallowed up too.

He leans in closer, anticipating, hoping-

Someone- Someones- collided with them, bringing all of them down. For the second time that day, Pav found himself very acquainted with Hobie's body.

He feels Hobie’s arms holding him, a futile attempt to protect him from the floor, considering he's currently flat against the same, breath knocked out of him yet again, this time for multiple reasons.

“Oh we're so sorry! So, so, sorry- Just, I was looking for my friend and Saswat here was annoying me an’ I wasn't watching where I was goin’-” The person rambled on at a frankly terrifying speed as they got up. Hobie huffed as helped Pav up, “It’s alri’e, jus’ watch where you goin.”

“We’re so sorry, let us buy you something as an apology,” The person gushed, and then hit the guy- Saswat- in the stomach, urgently whispering that sounded a whole lot like ‘kuchh bolna, gadhe’.

“It's alright, really,” Pav conceded, sensing another word vomit if he didn't stop the train wreck of a conversation that was happening. “We should get going, do our own thing, you know-”

“You should join us for a game of spin the bottle,” Saswat winked. Pav wasn't sure what that meant. “We can buy you a drink then. Come with us,” Saswat swung his arm over Pav’s shoulders, walking him straight into a circle with about 5 people in various degrees of inebriation in a loose circle, sprawled over bean bags, and love seats. Pav thought one of them looked familiar. Like really familiar.

“Meet our new friends!” Saswat announced. This is- uh- what's your names?” He hissed urgently in his ear.

“I'm Pavitr, and that's Hobie-”

“Right, yeah, this is Pavitr and that's Hobby,” Saswat declared, gesturing grandly, plopping onto the only empty barstool. Pav and Hobie squished themselves into a wide-ish armchair. At least it was a step up from still on Hobie’s lap, Pav thought wildly, thighs pressed against each other.

“Not again,” The other person groaned, sitting down next to a girl with long greyish dyed hair. “I can't do this again.” They muttered and Pav got the feeling that he wasn't supposed to hear it.

“Saswat, you whore,” The familiar looking person reached over, tugging on his ear.

“Shut up Achari, maine toh kuch kiya bhi nahi hai,” Saswat slapped the person’s hand away.

“You are thinking it, you don’t even have to do something,” Achari replied. “Also I feel like I know the short guy.”

“Hey, watch who you're calling short!”

“But you are! You are practically matchbox sized, you could fit in an ikea bag, or a suitcase!”

“Alright, Athanni stop antagonising Pavitr, we're here to make new friends. Right, Annz?” The silver haired girl turned to the person who caused the collision, who turned an interesting shade of red, muttering ‘yep, ‘spin the bottle’ ek doston waala game hai, definitely’ under their breath. Pav had no idea if the silver haired girl didn't hear that or pretended not to because she went on.

“Here are the rules: spinner kisses whoever the bottle lands on and because we are not big fans of forcing someone to kiss, you can skip kissing and instead take a big sip of your drink,” The silver haired girl- Pav can't just keep calling here that in his mind- said. Annz side eyed the girl.

“Tammy, you know I don't have a drink, and neither do the new kids.”

“Then you'll just have to kiss me,” The girl- her name being Tammy, apparently- responded with a cheeky grin.

“Stop it, I can't breathe with all the UST you guys have, ugh,” Athanni drained the last of their drink in one big gulp, slamming down the bottle in the middle. “Let's get this ball rollin'!”

They spin the bottle.

Pav wondered why he and Hobie were still there, playing a kissing game with strangers, as he watched the bottle spin around, practically blurring.

They could just leave, right? Pav glanced at Hobie, and they met eyes. Pav froze. Hobie’s eyes had never looked so dark as they did now. “Wish we were alone now.” He whispered, only for Hobie, because he did. He only wished they were alone, maybe in this room, maybe in the whole world. Or maybe Pav wanted everyone to just look away and not pay attention, because the only attention he wanted was Hobie’s.

They hadn't broken eye contact for a moment. Pav could see a familiar emotion on Hobie's face, an emotion that made Pav’s stomach swoop with elation, the same emotion that made him want to giggle wildly when Hobie was too close, the same emotion that rose in his chest and up his throat when they were close enough, close enough to-

‘Your turn, short boy,” Athanni’s voice pulled him back to his frustrating reality.

“What?” Pav asked, trying to keep the irritation out his voice.

“Spin the bottle. You know, the game,” Athanni smiled, faux innocence dripping off their face.

“Y- yeah, the game, right. Uh-” Pav reached over and gave the bottle a weak nudge. It leisurely turned around three times.

Before coming to a stop at Hobie.

Pav could have kissed Athanni or even the bottle but he didn't, because he was going to kiss Ho-

“There you are Pav, I've been looking all over for you!”

If Miles was spiderman, he surely could survive a fall from the top of the Qutub minar, right? Pav turned to look at Miles, fighting his way out of a rather thick crowd of people, hand clasped tightly with Gwen's, who appeared to be expertly nursing a drink within the crush of the crowd.

“Gwen convinced the DJ to play some english songs, come join us for a dance!” Miles said, smiling ear to ear and Pav could not stay angry.

He got up, nodding at the group of strangers. “This game was fun, thanks, but now we must go.” Hobie didn't even wait till Pav was done to start tugging him away into the crowds. Pav heard a chorus of ‘byes’ and maybe a ‘go get it dude!’ as he let himself be dragged away.

***

“I believe you owe me a dance, chodu,” Pav smiled, pushing Hobie over to the masses, where people were swaying to Radha.

“If ya think you can keep up, you're sorely mistaken, me raspberry tart,” Hobie said, leaning on the wall, stretching his arms above languidly and it was all Pav could do to not jump him right there. “You like to dance close?” Hobie asked, resting those arms on Pav’s shoulders like a middle school dance, “Or closer?” He slid his hands down to his waist, pulling him in, and how could Pav breath with them pressed together like that?

In the dim lights and thundering beats of the dance floor, a voice broke through. "Pav! C’n you te’ me where the res’room is- I really need th’ pee." Gwen appeared, giggling and speech slurring, and Pav wished that homicide was legal, not for the first time, not during this night, not in his life. Hobie leaned away, and Pav lamented not cherishing their proximity more.

He didn't think he hated Gwen, but at the moment Gwen was being particularly annoying, of course not intentionally. Or at least Pav didn't think it was intentional, because who would want to interrupt two people desperately trying to have a moment together, that's just weird.

“Hey-uh! Gwen!” Pav smiled, probably way too brightly considering his circumstances. “The restroom is on the other side of the club- uh, where’s Miles? Did he leave you alone?” Pav frowned. Miles was supposed to stay with Gwen. Unaccompanied minors and Gwen’s state aside, they were using the buddy system to not lose track of each other in the crowd. They were being responsible, but not anymore, apparently.

He was realising it would have been better to just stay back in his room with Hobie, because at least no one would fucking pop in with useless fucking questions when Hobie’s hands were ghosting his waist, with his breath on his lips-

Pav shook himself out of his funk. “C’mon Gwanda, We’d better go find Miles before he makes another eldritch entity sulk.”

Pav definitely did not think Hobie’s guffaws lacked a little sanity, nuh-uh.

They wove through the crowd, somehow managing to keep track of Gwen, who wandered off like a kid in the metaphorical candy shop too many times to count. Pav secretly relished Hobie's hand in his, a leftover from their position of moments prior.

The warmth of Hobie’s hand was different than the pressing heat of the bodies around them, more comforting and somehow, more exciting at the same time. Hobie was rubbing little circles on his knuckles and Pav could swear he felt sparks.

They can get through this. If nothing else, Hobie was going to sleep over at his, he was going to have this, nothing could stop him from doing this.

“Pav! Pavitr! Hobie! It’s time for countdown!” Miles called from the little balcony jutting out, overlooking the gigantic Christmas tree in the square. A large billboard counted down in big red numbers, 17 morphing into 16.

Gwen all but collapsed on Miles, who caught her easily, keeping her upright. Pav breathed a sigh of relief.

A breath that got caught in his throat. Because Hobie was looking at him like he wanted to eat Pav alive.

Everything stilled to a stop as Hobie spun him around, holding their hands between them. Pav could hear the dull chanting of ‘ten, nine, eight-’ as he stepped closer. A light chilly breeze blew, whispering through among them, carrying the sweet smell of cheap cherries, a cologne Pav had given Hobie months ago, and a familiar musky smell underneath it all.

A bead of sweat rolled down Hobie’s neck. Pav's eyes were glued onto it, following the paths it took over the contours of his neck and Pav wanted to taste it, to be it.

Five.

Hobie moved one hand to Pav’s waist, caressing his sides and his arm, coming to rest on his cheek. Pav let out a shaky breath.

Four.

Pav moved closer, their bodies brushing, separated by their clasped hands. Pav let go, pulling Hobie in by his neck. Their faces were a breath apart and-

Three.

-his saccharine warmth enveloped Pav in a sweet kiss. Pav’s breath stuttered again as his heart kicked into overdrive. Pav started to return the press, and Hobie pulled away. Pav whined, following.

Two.

“Sorr-”

One.

“Sorry mat bol, kasam se- idhar aa-” Pav pulled Hobie into an open mouthed kiss, as the fireworks went up, lighting up the skies in brilliant gold and silver. Pav’s insides felt like fireworks too, all warm and restless, He wanted to touch, he wanted to feel Hobie all over, his hair, his face, his strong shoulders, his wiry arms, his-

Pav pulled him closer, stepping back closer to the wall-

-Only to find himself hanging over thin air, over the railings of the balcony, over the deafening crowd in the Mumbattan square, supported only by the arms of one Hobie Brown. Pav shivered, the metal railing cold against the small of his back. But Hobie was warm. Pav couldn't resist snuggling closer, burying his hands in Hobie's hair, while Hobie’s mouth did wonderful things down his throat and on his collarbones.

Hobie pushed him further yet, shifting their gravity, dipping him over the railing so he was supporting the both of them from a high drop, and Pav let him, losing himself in his ministrations. If Pav was going to fall, Hobie's arms would only catch him.

He couldn't wait to take an uber back home.

___

Translations:

scooby - clue

Càlmate - calm down

Bhaiya, zara QR code dikhana, PhonePe kar deta hun - brother, show me the QR code, I'll phonepe you (phonepe is like cashapp, or apple pay or google pay, you get the gist)

ankhon se ek durse ke kapde utaar rahe the - undressing eachother with your eyes

abhi - now

ganga jal - hindu equivalent of holy water (water for the holy river ganga)

mandem - friend group (i think? i might be wrong but im too sleepy to check rn)

nuclear subs - pubs

ankhon se ek durse ke kapde utaar rahe the - you were literally undressing each other with your eyes

jhaadu - broom

tumbling down a sink (?) - a drink

bada aya romeo - you think youre a player (romeo)? (also desi pop culture yk)

kya bolti tu? - watcha say? (not 'what do you say', important distinction, bc that sentence hella informal and so casual, it also a old bollywood movie ref)

kuchh bolna, gadhe - say something, asshole

maine toh kuch kiya bhi nahi hai - i haven't even done anything

ek doston waala game hai - sure is a friends typa game

Qutub minar - A tall historical tower in India in delhi (? im too sleepy for this, im like 60% sure its in delhi)

chodu - fucker

raspberry tart - sweetheart

Sorry mat bol, kasam se- idhar aa- - don't apologise, i swear to- come here-

istg i gave myself carpal tunnel with them, they just kept missing the kiss on and on

they might be kinda ooc but lets be real we're all here to read them kiss a million times

there are some inside jokes and some oc interactions you might not get but ykw life is short fuck it

a million thanks to goldenpunk artists server for this opportunity and another million thanks to the people in there, so amazing and encouraging

this is for you sera, ghost and starr, yall really made me post this on time (technically its not 2nd jan everywhere yet, stfu)

also idont think im a 100 percent coherent rn, so lemme know if i missed something and thanks for reading, have an amazing day

(and if you got the time pls comment makes me more motivated to write than a national award fr)

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valenteal · 2 months

Text

I don’t know if I can even express how much I hate miraculous season 5? Like words just don’t exist to express the depth of my disappointment and anger at that cluster fuck? Like, when season 4 was coming out I wasn’t exactly happy with all the choices they were making but season 5 is just… gods it sucks so bad! I mean, Luka is easily my favorite character in the show but after Truth I was just like ??????????? the fuck you doing? It’s like Luka became popular with fans and for some reason they decided to just retcon the fuck outa him and Juleka? They’re twins now? No! Luka is the cool older brother! He has a bit more experience and maturity so he can understand Marinette but also understands when she’s being immature and ridiculous because that’s what happens at that age! Also great to see a non-nuclear family with a single mother and two kids with different fathers. The Coufaines are a much more positive representation of an atypical family dynamic than the Bourgeois family. Their all white and snobbish and damaged and they don’t love or support one another. Totally realistic and good to represent the struggles of different kinds of people, including those with privilege but it’s a pretty negative view and the Coufaines made sure kids watching the show could see how loving families can come in all shapes and sizes. Of course this was all before Chloé’s redemption arc was slashed to pieces.

And they sent Luka away!? And they started being open about hero identities like Alix? And suddenly Kagami’s mom is a villain? And Gabriel isn’t just insane with grief and power but it was all an evil plot from the start? What is even happening with anything?!?!?!?!?!?! Talk about losing the plot oh my fucking god!

Oh! And! They made Marichat canon but they took everything that made it great away?! Like, Marichat was great because neither of them were aware that they liked each other! They were able to be themselves and relax without trying to impress their crush. They both already saw one another as friends but couldn’t let the other know. It was sweet and fun and they were each other’s safe place and then they just took everything I hate about Adrinette and Ladynoir and projected it onto Marichat and UURRGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

Fuck Miraculous seasons 4 and 5. Fuck miracle queen too. As far as I’m concerned Miraculous got tragically cancelled after season 3 episode 23.

#my ramblings #rant post #mlb #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #mlb season 5 spoilers #mlb spoilers #mlb salt #mlb season 4 #luka couffaine #chloe bourgeois #they deserved better

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roguelov · 9 months

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Okay so I got an idea for spicy saturday

Imagine dark!Morpheus (because I like him dark, you know me, Rouge 🤭) with a reader who suddenly cancels a date with him. This is a totally impulsive decision on reader's part because she has had a really rough day, she hasn't been out in a while, her friends were buying the drinks and besides, he's always busy, right?? Meanwhile, Dream is waiting for her to fall asleep so she can be with him but she doesn't arrive, and since her going out was totally unplanned, she wasn't able to give him a note at all

Oh the punishment awaiting our poor reader!!! The dirty, unspeakable things he'd do: maybe keep reader for a time in his room, maybe tie her up so he's sure she knows who her time belongs to - i'll let your imagination do the rest!!!!

DOTIE HOLY SHIT YES YES YES A MILLION TIMES YES

Like you letting loose for once and catching up with old friends (and have a blast) and you assume, a horrible assumption, that Dream would be okay (I mean it’s just one date and he usually has to reschedule anyway because of his duties) and once you finally get home and drift off into the Dreaming trouble is already waiting for you 😈

You slowly stirred awake. Your drunken fueled headache from moments ago pushed into the far recesses of your mind. Yet, the taste still lingered on your tongue. You groaned softly and curled -

Wait.

You couldn’t move your wrists, or your legs either. Your eyes widened, now fully aware of the situation you found yourself in. Whipping your head around, you were in Dream’s room; you knew his silk sheets well. However, it was so dark, so cold.

“Dream?” You asked the darkness. “What - what the hell is this?”

You don’t see him, but feel an ominous presence at the foot of the bed. “You did not show for our date.”

You flinched. “Ah, uh, right, and I’m sorry but I wanted to go out and have a drink with my friends. It was so last minute and we hadn’t talked -“

“You abandoned me for mortal friends and potential alcohol poisoning?”

“I - I, uh, well -“

A presence was immediately beside you. You felt him bent down, and his warmth breath on your ear. “It is quite rude, and frankly insulting to treat myself and our relationship as such. You left no indication where you ran off to.”

“I’m sorry, Dream, really I -“

A hand wrapped around your throat gently squeezing out your air. You gasped. “No more excuses,” he whispered with a low growl. “I think you need a reminder who you belong to.”

He jerked your head, forcing you to look at him. All you saw through the darkness was the stars in his eyes.

“Now, who do you belong to?” His hand cupped your face, and skimmed his thumb along your bottom lip.

You shivered. “… you.”

He scoffed, “Louder, sweet one. I want your friends to hear you back in the Waking.”

#possessive dark dream?#yeah we hate to love him #the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dotieeee #spicy saturday #ask

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alexanderlightweight · 11 months

Note

Howdy, hope your week has been kind.

A Wednesday prompt: Alec's first birthday since he and Magnus got together. Preferably not super focused on immortality (angst or not)

Thanks! 💛

angst with a happy ending! no immortality angst because obviously Alec is going to be immortal at some point. i only write immortal husbands, though how they get Alec immortal can sometimes be left open to interpretation.

thank you! it has been a busy week with a couple unexpected dust storms that kicked allergies off and my asthma into gear so i spent like 18 hours yesterday in that 'i am medicated and semi-aware of the world but not really' stage and snapped out of it mostly in time to write today so i'm happy! i hope you are having a good week!

<3 lumine

Alec sighs in relief as he finally gets to the loft and when he enters, he hisses as the scent and presence of other nephilim and people hit him.

Magnus is standing there, splendid and magnificent and with a soft smile on his face… and he’s surrounded by Alec’s family and more shadowhunters and warlocks and even Maia.

“Nope.” Is all Alec says and he turns and walks out of the room, leaving to go for the rooftop stairs that had better still be warded to keep out pests. Because Alec is not in the mood for a party, surprise or otherwise and if anyone thinks he’s going to give in, they have another thing coming to them.

“Alec!” Izzy calls behind him, running to catch up and her strong, elegant and painted fingers catch on his elbow. “Hermano, it’s your birthday. Come on, we’re all here to celebrate.”

“And yet, I don’t want to.” Is all Alec says and he pushes her hand off and steps into the staircase, pleased when the door seals behind him.

He shrugs off his weapons as he climbs and leaves his boots and jacket on the bench near the roof door. He’s not sure what’s going on below, but he doesn’t care.

Alec’s made it clear that he doesn’t want a party, that he wanted to spend his first birthday with Magnus just the two of them. Especially when this week has been one exhaustion after the other and yet apparently, once again everyone else’s opinion matters more than his.

“Alexander—” Magnus says, when he opens the roof door less than ten minutes later.

“Are they gone?” Alec asks, interrupting him coolly and refusing to turn to look at Magnus.

“Yes, of course darling. If I’d realized how much you’d dislike it, I wouldn’t have listened to Izzy and Jace.”

“So why did you?” Alec bites out, because he can’t help himself. “I told you what I wanted and what I didn’t want, Magnus. So why did you even bother asking me if you were just going to ignore me? Why are Izzy and Jace’s opinions more important than my own? Especially when it comes to me?” Alec scoffs, “Izzy told me I owed it to myself and you to have a party the other day. I laughed at her, because you and I had already agreed to just take a day to ourselves. Now I realize it was her way of telling me to buck up and accept it, to just deal with the party.”

“Alec,” Magnus offers, and Alec just sighs and steps further into the garden and away from Magnus.

“I’m guessing the plans we actually made got canceled?” He asks and he can’t help that he’s being so terse. This is the first birthday he’s actually been looking forward to for ages and it’s once again ruined by his family. The same way it is every year.

“Darling, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even consider how it might feel for you, Isabelle and Jace were so sure this would be what you wanted.”

“So, you cancelled them. Because Izzy convinced you she knew best. Which I don’t understand how she managed that, because you know how I feel about her ignoring what I want.”

“I know how much you love your family.” Magnus says, almost helplessly and Alec is getting really sick of his love for people being the reason why nothing he says matters.

“So? What does loving them have to do with always have to be punished for that love? I can’t have anything I enjoy? I don’t get to make choices? It’s all picked for me based on that love.” Alec sighs, “I was looking forward to tonight, for once. Now I just want to sleep and hope this day never comes again, the same way I’ve felt the last decade and a half.”

Magnus makes an involuntary noise and Alec ignores it, “I wanted to have this day, just with you. So I could enjoy it for once and now—” Alec sighs. “I think I’m going to take a walk, Magnus. I’ll be back later.”

Arms wrap around his waist before he can even think of heading to the edge of the roof and jumping off and then Alec is being bodily picked up and tossed through a portal.

“Magnus!” He yelps as he lands in sand, because this isn’t something he expected from his boyfriend. Magnus is normally great about giving him space when needed, a little too great sometimes.

“Yes, yes. You need to take a walk.” Magnus tells him, utterly sincere and his golden eyes calm and patient and filled with remorse. “This Isle is uncharted and undocumented to all but a few in the Spiral Labryinth, you can walk as much as you want for as far as you want. Around the whole Isle if you need to, there are no demons here to watch out for.” Magnus reaches out and then lets his hands fall with a soft, sad sigh.

“I got too swept up in the idea of showing you off, of proving how well we’re working together. Despite what we’ve talked about, it never occurred to me that Isabelle would be so inconsiderate as to…” Magnus pauses and sighs, “ah. In hindsight, that is something I should have realized sooner. I suppose I let my own hubris get to me, Alexander. Which isn’t an excuse, but I am sorry beloved. I never meant to corner you, especially not in our home.”

“Is it?” Alec asks quietly, because Magnus has never said or offered and Alec isn’t brave enough to go for it, not yet.

“Is it what?”

“Our home?”

“Of course, sayang.” And Magnus looks heartbroken, “have I never told you?” He asks, as if it’s unimaginable and when Alec shakes his head, Magnus reaches up his hands before he pauses. Unwilling to touch without permission when Alec is this upset.

Alec leans into the hold and sighs as Magnus’ warm hands cup his face and then he’s pulled so that they can both press their foreheads against each other.

“Walk with me?” Alec whispers, “I can’t talk. Not yet, but you can. If you want. Tell me about the plants and animals here? What kind of experiments you’ve done? Something just us, please?”

“Oh, darling. The stories I’m about to tell you.” Magnus promises him gently and his eyes crinkle like little gold moons when Alec takes Magnus’ hand.

This isn’t how he wanted it.

But this is what he wanted.

Magnus and he without any pressure of the future, just enjoying each other and learning more… after all.

It’s still new.

gonna be real, i get uncomfortable in the fics where izzy and jace pressure alec to do things he doesn't want to do and then he does them and meets magnus or makes magnus happy and alec's like 'wow yes i'm so glad my boundaries were ignored and my opinion mocked and it was totally worth being made intensely uncomfortable because i met magnus'.

and like, mood to meeting magnus but not mood to 'hey we know better than you because you're an introvert and a repressed queer so you need to listen to us because we know best' because i've had that vibe directed at me and it's so gross. and it's used in canon show too and never called out as manipulative and ick.

sorry to ramble on a fic fill and i don't think people should stop writing fics like that if they want them, i just tend to avoid them especially because it's a canon show trait that i hate and write out of my fics.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #shadowhunters #shadowhunters au #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #immortal husbands #my fics #my fanfics #my ficlets

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