#clearing out drafts i never want to see again part 2

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 1: Linked Here!

AO3: Linked Here :)

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Scenes from the afternoon hookup replay in your mind over and over as you sit in the library at a battered old desk in the history section. All you can think about is Shoto’s mouth. And his hands. And his abs!! And his sweet face.

You twiddle your pen in your hand as you try to draft out an essay for class. Unfortunately, every time you try to jot down a few thoughts your mind goes blissfully blank and you remember the tender way he spoke to you.

"How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?"

“You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.”

“Find me later so we can discuss this.”

You look down at your watch excitedly – 7:55 PM. You eagerly wait for Shoto to appear so the two of you can talk and – with any luck – canoodle amongst the history textbooks. You sit patiently as the time ticks by.

Soon it’s 8:30 PM. You’re not worried, though. Shoto probably assumed you’d want to get some work done first.

9:15 PM rolls around and you start to get worried. You try to distract yourself with school work as doubt creeps into your mind.

10 PM – Shoto still hasn’t showed.

“Shit shit shit.” You check your phone again and again as you wade through the endless wave of homework your teachers have assigned. You keep losing yourself in a math problem or in a passage of your History textbook, only to remember with a jolt that you were expecting to see Shoto and the bastard hasn’t showed.

At 10:30 PM you realize with a sinking feeling that it’s almost past curfew. You pack up your things and prepare to head back to the dorms. There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can’t shake.

You slide your books into your bag as a anxious thoughts dance through your mind like annoying fruit flies: Does Shoto regret your mid-afternoon hookup? Is he going to pretend it never happened? Did you push him too far? Does he think you’re a slut for stripping off your shirt and basically pressing his face into your naked breasts!? The synapses of your brain jump through dozens of equally horrid and embarrassing scenarios as you march back to your dorm room, blushing furiously with humiliation.

You run through the afternoon’s events in your head for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find a clue as to why Shoto would have left you waiting alone in the library. Your cheeks burn hotter as you recall the gentle way Shoto had kissed your neck before leaning in to capture your lips in one of his first kisses. "How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?" You shiver as you think back to how gentle he was, how each caress felt so loving and intimate.

You shake your head to clear it. Shoto must have a valid excuse for not meeting you in the library as he had promised – no boy could kiss someone that intimately and then instantly cast her aside, right?

Before long, you’re walking through the doors of Class 1A’s dorm building. You shiver with discomfort as you recall how earlier that day you essentially scaled the side of a building for a boy. Does Shoto think you’re an absolute fool with the extremes you went to for a quick make out session? You hope not.

You walk up the stairs and past the common area. You see most of Class 1A studying quietly. Sero, Izuku, Kirishima and Ida sit around one of the kitchen tables reviewing their math homework while some of the girls compare English notes on the couch. To your relief, Shoto isn’t there. Mina waves to you enthusiastically, beckoning you to join her and YaMomo as they review the finer points of Hamlet. You politely decline and make a beeline for your room. You turn the key in the lock and it clicks – within moments, you are blessedly alone.

You toss your heavy book bag to the ground and prepare to wallow in self-pity. It’s 10:56pm and Shoto still hasn’t reached out to you. Your phone is vacant of text messages and your brain is absolutely fried from schoolwork.

You dim your room lights and switch on the favorite fairy lights for some peaceful ambiance. Time for some self-care, bitch! You think resolutely as you swap your uniform for your favorite pair of pajamas. You toss your phone to the floor with abandon and climb into your comfy bed. You breathe in deeply, allowing yourself to revel in the coziness of the dorm room.

You take out your five-minute bullet journal and write a quick list of things you're grateful for: 1. The opportunity to study at UA 2. Your lovely and encouraging friends and classmates 3. Your cozy room and the roof over your head 4. Shoto’s mouth 5. Shoto’s abs 6. Shoto’s goddamn hard AF dick

Um. No.

You snap the journal shut before you get too derailed.

You pull your comforter over your head and sit in silence for a moment. You’ve never been the kind of person to go completely boy-crazy. You always used to make fun of those girls who would go gaga over pretty boys and their texts and their kisses. But as you recall the searing way that Shoto kissed your lips earlier that day, you suddenly understand what all the boy-crazed girly hype was all about. Oh my god. You have a crush. A big sloppy embarrassing crush.

In the silence of your room, you suddenly here a buzzing noise coming from the general direction of your book bag. You struggle to disentangle yourself from your sheets and your journal goes flying. You ignore its crash landing as you slip from your bed and collect your phone from where it lays abandoned on the carpeted floor.

It’s Shoto.

Your heart skips.

Todoroki: Y/N. Are you awake?

You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Did Shoto just send you his version of “U up?”

Y/N: Yes, I’m still up.

Todoroki: I know it’s late, but can I stop by?

You tense. Oh God – he’s going to come by to tell you that he’s not interested. He’s going to thank you for your time making out and say that you probably should avoid hooking up in the future because it’s a huge distraction. You’re sure that whatever he has to say is going to be negative and leave you feeling embarrassed. Why else would he have skipped out on your rendezvous in the library?

You take a deep breath. You have always been fairly practical with a mind for strategy, two qualities that had really set you apart when you had taken the UA entrance exams. You know that the best course of action here is to rip off the Band-Aid sooner rather than later. Better to know how he feels about your hookup now

Your heart sinks as you type out:

Y/N: Sure, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. Just come in. Try not to be seen by anyone.

Todoroki: Of course. See you shortly.

Your heart beats double time as you look down at yourself. Your pajama set consists of a silky blue top with matching shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination. You chew on your thumb nervously – should you change into something more appropriate? No – Shoto has seen your boobs. A little bit of leg is not going to kill the half hot half cold hero in training.

You quickly remake your bed and kick your book bag beneath your desk so that the floor is clear. You plop down on your smooth comforter and wait, knotting your hands together as you anticipate Shoto’s arrival.

A few anxious minutes pass, and then you hear gentle footsteps pad down the hallway outside your door. The knob turns quietly, and in a moment Shoto Todoroki steps across your threshold, quietly closing the door behind him. He reaches down to turn the lock with a gentle snap of his wrist.

You take him in – he’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him dressed so casually before and you assume that these are what he wears as pajamas in the privacy of his own dorm room. His hair is tousled and damp from a recent shower, and the burned side of his face shines where he’s clearly applied some kind of scar cream or moisturizer. His outfit projects a comfy air, but his expression is dark and stormy. Your heartbeat quickens in fear – what could possibly have caused him to be in such a tempestuous mood? Was this about your kissing?

You bite at your lip with worry. But when your eyes lock, his expression softens. In two quick strides, he’s at the bed. He leans in close so that your noses almost touch.

“Hi.” He says softly, before dipping his mouth to meet yours. You blink in surprise as your mouths melt together. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the kiss. Pleasure radiates up and down your spine as you kiss him back. He places both his palms on your hips and pulls you closer, letting out a small moan of satisfaction as he slides his tongue into your mouth. How silly you feel for thinking he didn’t want you like this!

After a few moments, you break apart.

“Hey there.” You whisper, bringing your hands up to cup his beautiful jaw. He leans in to kiss you again and you hold him in place. He stops and looks down at you inquisitively.

“I waited for you in the library, you didn’t show.” You say slowly, softly.

“My father decided to take me through some drills in one of the school’s gyms. I only finished a half hour ago.” His expression becomes dull as he speaks. “I’m sorry to leave you waiting. I wanted to see you - but I’m not allowed on my phone during training.”

Relief must have flooded your features, because he tilts his head to the side questioningly. You hold back a giggle – the way his head is tilted makes him look like a sweet dog asking its owner for a treat.

“What’s wrong?”

You sigh and pull yourself further onto the bed, patting the spot next to you as an invitation. Shoto climbs up next to you, sinking into the deliciously soft fabric. His eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“This is so comfortable.” He says, pressing his palm into the plush fabric beneath him. You recall his sparse traditional bedroom and realize that he’s never laid on a proper puffy mattress before.

“Hold on – it gets better.” You say pushing him off the bed so you can pull down the covers. You slip beneath the comforter and gesture for him to rejoin you. He climbs in clumsily, unsure how to position himself within the sheets. You prop a pillow beneath his shoulders as he lays down on his side. You toss the comforter over the two of you and lay across from him, feet almost touching beneath the warm layers of bedding.

“Cozy?” You ask as Shoto settles into the bed.

“Yeah.” He says in quiet voice, propping himself up on an elbow. “I always thought beds like this were excessive but…maybe there’s some merit to this.” He eyes a blue Squirtle plush that sits next to you in the bed. “Can I…hold that?”

You grin, biting back a laugh as you reach over to grab the Pokémon plush. “This is Squirtle – he’s one of my favorite plushies.” You hold up the stuffed animal and wiggle it in front of Shoto’s eyes as if it’s dancing. “Squirtle, Squirtle” you say in a low tone, trying to emulate the television character’s voice the best you can.

Shoto gives you a weird look. “I don’t get it. Why are you just repeating its name in a strange voice?”

“Shoto…have you…have never seen Pokémon!?” You almost screech in disbelief, before throwing a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. You quickly remember that you are in the dorms and the walls aren’t super thick.

“No, I wasn’t allowed to watch television unless it was about Pro hero work.” Shoto says, a tinge of sadness flowing along with his words. “But it looks cute and round and I really just want to hold it and squish it?”

“Yeah, that’s the general reaction to plushies. Dude, we need to get you that whale pillow you liked on Pinterest. You need more cuteness in your life.”

“Well I have you, don’t I?” Shoto smiles softly. “You bring more than enough cute into my life.” He reaches out and grabs the plush from your hands and squishes it a bit. “But this is pretty nice, too.”

Your face grows hot at the compliment. Shoto tucks the Squirtle under his arm and shifts around in the sheets until he finds a comfortable position. He looks adorable and soft as he cradles the bright plush in his strong, muscular hands.

When he finally settles in, he looks up at you enquiringly. “What’s wrong?” He repeats, looping you both back to the conversation form earlier.

“So…” You sigh with embarrassment. “When you didn’t show up and I didn’t hear from you…” You pause and Shoto gives Squirtle a squeeze. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again. Or at least that you didn’t want to make out with me again.”

“Oh.” Shoto wasn’t expecting this. “I thought I made it very clear how…enthusiastically…I enjoyed our time together this afternoon. I didn’t realize I had left any room for you to question my attraction to you.”

“That’s nice to hear…but when you didn’t show at the library or send a text, I assumed the worst. My mind kind of went into full-blown panic mode. I thought maybe once you had time to reflect on our hookup, that you realized you didn’t like it or that you didn’t really like me. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never felt that way before. Usually something like this wouldn’t bother me.” You take a deep, steadying breath. “But I think I really like you and want to be close to you, and the thought that you might not feel the same was tearing me apart for the last couple of hours.”

The words come tumbling from your mouth before you can stop and think them through. Why are you saying all of this!? Why does being around Shoto make you feel so comfortable and open to sharing? It’s so weird – and you’re absolutely sure he’s going to think you’re some kind of over sharing freak for telling him all of this.

Shoto looks at you thoughtfully for a long moment before speaking. “Something I have always admired about you is your ability to be straightforward about what you’re thinking and feeling. Most people aren’t like that, and I have a hard time navigating more subtle situations. Thank you for telling me exactly what you’re thinking – I value it so much.” He runs a hand through his slightly damp hair, moving the bangs out of his bright eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I had abandoned you. I wanted to come to the library so badly. I want to kiss you so badly – it’s all I’ve been thinking about tonight.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.

“Let me match your honesty with some of my own - my father is extremely strict. Ever since I was born, he’s pushed me to be better. To be stronger. He wants me to surpass him. He wants me to take All Might’s place as the number one hero.”

You gasp at this. Of course you knew that Todoroki was ambitious, but this…

“I don’t have any intentions of becoming harsh and cruel like my father. I’m not even sure if I want to go for the top spot on the hero charts.” He admits, almost bitterly. “That’s the path that my father has laid out for me. He’s obsessed with my training. With my ‘potential.’ But he doesn’t seem to give a fuck about how I feel. Excuse my language.” Shoto looks so sad, so despairing. He hugs the plush close, his chin tucked into his chest as he continues.

“I just want to help people and make them smile – just like All Might. But my old man just doesn’t seem to get that. Today, when he noticed how distracted I was… he didn’t ask if something was wrong. He just pushed me even harder.” Shoto avoids your gaze. “I think he purposefully pushed me to train into the night to keep me from meeting up with you. In his eyes…you’re a huge distraction for his prized creation.”

Suddenly you notice how exhausted Shoto looks – there are pale bags beneath his eyes. You scan his body and see light bruises beginning to form on the exposed skin of his arms. You wonder - just what kind of training has Endeavor been subjecting him to?

You had never guessed that behind Shoto’s calm and collected exterior, there is just a normal teenage boy trying desperately to please his father, while simultaneously trying to defy him. The whole relationship seems complicated and messy and you’re sure what Shoto is telling you is only the tip of a chaotic Todoroki family dynamic iceberg.

“Oh, Shoto.” You say softly. You scoot forward and wrap your arms around him. He freezes, unsure of what to do but nevertheless comforted by the sudden closeness. You reach behind him and card your fingers through his hair. You see goose bumps emerge across his skin, and realize that he likely hasn’t been touched this way before.

“Is it okay to touch you like this?” You whisper.

He breathes out a shaky “yes” as he moves to toss the Squirtle plush to the floor. Once his arms are free, he works to wrap them around you. He rests one strong hand on your back and slings the other around your delicate waist. He draws you close to him and holds you tightly as you continue to run your fingers softly through his two-toned hair.

He’s silent as he buries his head into your shoulder. There’s an emotion that’s radiating off of his body that you can’t quite place – sadness? Frustration? Maybe even relief? After a few moments of running your fingers through his hair and gently up and down his back, he finally starts to relax. The tense muscles in his shoulders loosen, and he seems to come back to himself.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He whispers, muffled as he turns his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m not great at expressing my emotions. I can try to put it into words…I’m feeling so weighed down right now.”

“Because of your father’s expectations?” You prompt, running a light fingertip down his spine. He shivers a bit in response, but not in an unpleasant way.

“Sometimes I wonder if he sees me as a real person, as a son. Or am I just his big project?” Shoto wonders aloud, his voice a bit strained. You feel his eyelashes flutter against the sensitive skin beneath your jawline.

“Shoto...that sounds like a lot to carry. You’re just a high school student – your father shouldn’t be putting that kind of pressure on you. It’s not normal.” You tuck a lock of red hair behind his porcelain ear. “This situation sounds so complicated. It’s no wonder you feel so conflicted. I’m here any time you need a friendly ear to listen as you work through it.” You continue to caress him softly over his clothes. He begins to lean into your touch hungrily. “But right now – at this moment – you’re safe. In this room, in my arms, you don’t need to hold other people’s expectations of you in your heart. When you’re with me, I want you to feel that you can just be Shoto.”

You still your fingers as you let your words sink in. Shoto is radiating a deep sort of sadness that you wish you could smooth away with your fingertips.

“Thank you.” He says, his voice breaking a tiny bit as he processes your words. After a few beats Shoto exhales deeply, his breath ruffles your hair. “I’m not used to talking about these things. Actually, I’m not really used to talking much at all. Or being touched.” You can feel the blush on his delicate cheeks warm the skin of your neck.

“I can tell.” You say before you can stop yourself. To your surprise, he chuckles.

“I don’t know why it’s so easy to do these things with you – talking, touching…kissing.” He lifts his head off of your shoulder to look you square in the face. “There’s something about you…”

Suddenly, the room feels as if it’s charged with Denki’s electrification quirk as his bright mismatched eyes meet your own.

“I think I’d like to continue exploring this with you.” He says matter-of-factly, moving his legs to intertwine with yours.

“W-what does that mean?” Your breath catches in your throat as he dips forward to kiss down your neck.

“It means…I want to keep doing this. Kissing. Talking. I suppose I want to keep getting to know you like this? Intimately.” He places a soft kiss in the hollow behind your earlobe. “Would you like that as well?”

“Yes.” You breathe, with zero hesitation. He smiles into your neck before running the edges of his teeth lightly across your smooth skin. You let out a soft moan in response.

“Good. Then we’ll figure this out together.” He moves to kiss your cheek soundly before releasing you from his embrace. “But right now it’s well past midnight, and we both need our sleep if we’re going to continue to be top of our class alongside YaMomo and Ida. If we both let our grades slip, it might tip people off.” He moves to get off the bed.

“Hey – wait!” You grab his arm and pull him back under the covers. “I have no problem with you staying here for the night.”

“But wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Shoto’s face reddens, but he lets himself be drawn back into your gentle embrace.

“Would it be anymore inappropriate than you making out with my tits?” Shoto’s face burns an even brighter red at this question, but he also looks quite pleased with himself (you assume he’s recalling the way he kissed down your breasts earlier that day as he smirks). “Sharing a bed should be perfectly responsible as long as we keep all of our clothes on. You said you want to explore? Well get over here and let’s figure out if you make a good big spoon.”

This earns one of those rare full smiles from Shoto – he practically glows. “Alright.”

He pulls himself close to you. You reach above your head and switch off the string lights that wind their way around your room, and the tiny dorm fills with darkness.

You turn to face the wall and scoot your body back until you feel Shoto’s solid warmth. He reaches around to pull you close until bodies are touching, flush together. You tuck yourself into Shoto’s warm, muscular body and sigh with contentment.

“So do I make a good big spoon?” He questions, tentatively nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply. “Mmm, your hair smells like lavender.”

“We’ll need plenty of practice to truly ascertain the full range of your spooning abilities.” You say in a faux-academic voice, causing him to snort out a laugh. “But so far you’re doing great.”

You interlock your legs and pull his strong arms around you. You wiggle a bit as you try to find the comfiest spot in the mattress. You unintentionally grind a bit against Shoto and jolt when you feel something hard pressed against the curve of your ass.

“Sorry.” He mutters softly, embarrassed.

“Maybe I’ll take care of that for you tomorrow.” You yawn as you close your eyes and settle in for a good night’s rest. You grin into the darkness as you feel Shoto’s dick get even harder as he mulls over your response, wondering at what you could possibly mean by “take care of that.”

You didn’t realize you were so tired. You’re dimly aware of Shoto’s breathing growing slow as he drifts off into a comfortable sleep. You smile softly to yourself as you slide further into his embrace. This poor, touch-starved boy has been through so many terrible things and your heart aches for him.

Even in sleep he’s tense, his jawline stiff and his muscles almost locked around you. But he’s warm and soft and smells like jasmine and mint tea. You hope that for the next few hours you can provide him with a safe harbor to rest and escape his troubles. You let your eyes flutter close and breathe in deeply, dreaming of Shoto’s sweet face as you fall gently into sleep’s embrace.

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[farfromstrange]

Mismatched Bridesmaid | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 2 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Deciding to go to your old college roommate's wedding turns into a bad idea when you suddenly have to function as a bridesmaid until you're paired with a very handsome groomsman.

Warnings: Fluff, attempt at humor, SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "good girl", One-Night Stand, shameless flirting, kind of "horny at first sight", so cheesy it might make you hate cheese

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: I was wondering why this didn't post until I saw that I hit "save draft" instead of schedule, so this may come on time for some and too late for others, but I'm still awake, so it counts as the 15th. Also, when I wrote this it was after hinting at it on here, and I was excited at first, but I'm not too happy with it now because it's just silly and falls a little flat, in my opinion. This is why I went back in and edited a hell of a lot, adding some things, etc. Nevertheless, I promised to clear out the vault for this event, so this is it. I got inspired by seeing the She-Hulk clips when the episode with Matty came out. It may or may not be noticeable. We're also working with the Nelson, Murdock & Page narrative. Enjoy!

You are not made for white-veil occasions. 

While weddings, in their essence, symbolize unity while covering different facets of romantic beauty, they are also inherently stressful for nearly everyone involved in the proceedings. Over the years of adulthood, you’ve found that weddings tend to end in disaster when you attend—and you are not particularly fond of engaging in drama.

When your old college roommate sent you an invitation to her wedding in June, you considered responding with no. You’ve been close for a few years, but then you graduated, found separate careers, and then never talked again. You weren’t sure why she would send you an invitation until you called the number on the back of the card and you began catching up. She told you that she wanted to invite you because you were a vital part of her early twenties, and it reminded you that you are both adults and you have both grown beyond what you thought possible, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell her that you couldn’t make it to her wedding. Instead, you told her that you wouldn’t miss it for the world. That answer though seemed to have turned destiny against you. 

You were excited when you arrived at the chapel this morning, but as soon as your foot touched the holy ground, everything went wrong. Maybe it is because you’re an atheist and God hates you, or maybe Karma just really fucking loves toying with you. Either way, when your friend’s maid of honor—also one of the few people you hung out with during your wild college days—came up to you, looking pale and panicked, you knew that the curse you always bring to weddings was only continuing to wreak havoc. 

She said to you, “One of the girls got into a car accident on her way here. Don’t worry, she’s not dead, just a broken wrist, but that means we are one bridesmaid short. I need someone to step in before Janet finds out and cuts off my head for ruining her wedding day,” and she was deadly serious about it, too.

You knew that it was a mistake to come to this wedding, especially without a date or a plus-one to fall back on. 

You were so focused on marveling at the beautiful white and golden decorations living the aisle, fantasizing about the day you might be walking down one of those that you didn’t think anything could go wrong since everything had been going so right. You should have known better than to trust that treacherous feeling of excitement that you made sure to nurture before breakfast so you could enjoy the ceremony and the party afterward without making it dependent on the open bar—although that fact did help.

Instead of dreaming about free drinks though, you’re being squeezed into a satin green dress with a low cut in the front, and someone you don’t know is slathering burgundy lipstick onto your lips. They are purposely trying to turn you into a copy of all the other bridesmaids, and you hate it. You hate it so much you get the sudden urge to scratch your eyes out and tear the skin off your lips. 

Janet, the maid of honor, comes back up to you. She’s aged at least ten years since you last saw her when she pulled you away from the aisle. You feel for her. The entire weight of this wedding rests on her shoulders. 

She eyes you, checking your outfit, before giving you a curt nod. “Thank God, you’re hot,” she mutters. You’re not sure if you were supposed to hear it. 

“Thank you?” you answer awkwardly. 

“Alright.” She fixes the corners of your lipstick. “We need to pair you with a different guy than Miss I-Don’t-Know-How-To-Drive was supposed to walk down the aisle with. Your looks don’t match. You’ll get Kathy’s partner,” she says. “And we need to line up, like, now because shit is happening in five minutes, not a second later. We can’t give Bridezilla the time to kill us all.”

With a frown, you ask, “Is she aware at all of what’s happening?” 

Janet shakes her head. “No, and it’s better this way. Trust me.”

You stop questioning her. She knows what she’s doing. 

When she guides you outside to line up, you’re not sure what to expect. You don’t know the groom, and you don’t know his friends. You’re here on your own, and now you’re part of a bridal party that you are also barely familiar with, wearing a dress that you were forced into for the sake of aesthetics. You hate when something is reduced to aesthetics because beauty has many facets, and you would have walked down that aisle with anyone as long as you could get it over with. 

Until you see him. Strikingly dark hair in a perfectly cut tuxedo that underlines the muscles hiding underneath the fabric. His eyes are hidden behind round, red glasses that reflect the sunlight coming in through the already stained glass of the chapel’s windows. In his hands, he’s holding a white cane, leaning his entire weight on it as he waits. And he waits for none other than you. 

Janet paired you with the most beautiful man on this planet, you can’t deny that. The way he stands there, his sharp jawline on full display—he looks ethereal. Just looking at him makes you sweat, and you’re starting to panic. What if she made a mistake? You can’t do this. You can’t—

“Matt,” she says and shoves you beside him into the line of bridesmaids and groomsmen. 

Janet introduces you, and then she’s gone. She pushes you into the cold water, forcing you to learn how to swim. 

He tilts his head in your direction. “Hi,” he says. The sound of his voice resembles the purr of a black cat as it reverberates, but his grin reminds you of the Devil himself. 

Fuck. Me. 

You either did something very wrong to land here, or you did everything right. 

“Hi,” you stammer. One look at him, and the blood rushes to your cheeks. Your face is burning. 

He offers you his hand. “I’m Matt,” he says as if Janet didn’t already expose that to you.

Still, you take his hand. It’s the polite thing to do. “And I’m not supposed to be here.” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so stupid.

Matt chuckles. Even his laugh sounds bittersweet. Like dark chocolate. “I, uh, gathered as much.”

“I’m sorry,” you bite your lip, “I’m not—this is really weird. I don’t even know what to say.” You pray for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, maybe that will make it less embarrassing.

His features soften. There is no judgment. You can’t see his eyes, but there is a certain softness about him that throws you off guard, but you no longer feel like you’re drowning. “If it helps, I’m only here because I helped the groom graduate law school by writing his essays, and he feels like he owes me, so…I also don’t want to be here,” he says, and he reaches up to adjust his glasses. You get a small glimpse of his eyes. They’re hazel. Beautiful. He has an aura that draws you in; it’s not just his physical beauty that strikes you.

This man—this magnetic force of a man called Matt—is a stranger. He’s a man you were paired with to walk down the aisle even though you were never meant to be a bridesmaid in this wedding in the first place. So many things are happening to and around you at once, and you can feel the flames starting to burn and sizzle away at your skin. 

You should pull yourself together. You shouldn’t stare at him. You shouldn’t listen to your heart which is hammering against your ribcage. But the emotions are already running high and you can’t possibly focus on anything else. He’s like a lifeline to you.

And God, you want him to put those calloused hands on your skin and take you to bed. But that’s not something to think about in a place of God. On the day of someone else’s wedding. Except that you can’t think of anyone else, and his proximity isn’t making the situation any better for you.

Another blush threatens to take over your features. “Oh, you’re a lawyer?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “I have a firm. Nelson, Murdock & Page.”

“Here in New York?”

“Hell’s Kitchen, yeah. Me and my associates just reopened our doors to the public after a rough year.”

“Oh, that’s...cool. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you. And what do you do, if I may ask?”

His interest takes you off guard, but you don’t hesitate to answer his question. You tell him your profession, and how you met the bride, and he listens without another word. No man has ever paid you this much attention before.

Though Janet meant it when she said that you will have to start walking in exactly five minutes, not a second longer. She passed by everyone, handing out bouquets. Green with hints of red and gold. It fits the theme. They’re beautiful, but the flowers within the bouquet become a problem when she hands you your own set. 

“Janet,” you stop her from leaving. “I can’t take these.”

“The fuck you can’t,” she retorts. 

“Seriously, I can’t. I’m allergic to Jasmines. I’ll sneeze.”

She glares at you. “Then fucking hold it.”

There is no arguing with her, and she passes by you to continue putting everyone in their places. You stare down at the bouquet, your nose already starting to itch. The smell alone is enough to make you nauseous.

To your surprise, Matt reaches for the flowers. “May I?” he asks, but he has already grabbed a hold of them.

“Sure,” you answer, curious about where he’s going with this.

“Hold this.” He guides the top of his cane into your hand.

His fingers feel along the red ribbon. He takes a whiff. There are so many scents that would be overwhelming even to someone without heightened senses due to a lacking fifth one, so you’re even more surprised when he finds the Jasmines without a struggle. He traces the petals just to make sure, and he quickly pulls the flowers out of the bouquet, tightening the ribbon around the now smaller girth in the process.

Tossing them behind one of the pillars in the corridor, he hands them back to you. “Here,” he murmurs. “For you.”

Words elude you. 

“Are you allergic to anything else?” The question is valid, considering you’re still not making a move to take the bouquet from him. 

You exhale a shaky breath, reaching for the flowers, and answer without missing another beat, “Weddings.”

That elicits a giggle from him. The sound is enough to make your heart melt. Does he know what he’s doing to you?

Matt opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of heels clicking against the marble floors stops you both dead in your tracks.

Your entire body recoils when the bride’s voice rings out, echoing, “Who the fuck mismatched my bridesmaids?”

A hand rests on your bicep, and you don’t even have to look down to know that it is Matt’s. He’s the only one standing to your right, anyway. He squeezes as though to let you know that you won’t lose your head, but you’re not so sure now that your college roommate is glaring at you in a white dress that reminds you of a pastry, and her eyes are full of fury. He can’t see it, but he would cower in fear if he did.

Thankfully, Janet pulls her aside, explaining the situation to her. 

“She what?!” she screeches. “On my wedding day? Are you kidding me?”

“Yes, because car accidents respect timing when it comes to special occasions,” Janet counters.

You snort. Matt beside you digs his teeth into his bottom lip, but even he can’t hide his amusement.

“Oh, snap,” you mutter under your breath. 

“Shots have been fired,” he says.

“I think we’re witnessing a double homicide.”

“I’m not a very credible witness. I can only describe how it sounded, unfortunately.”

Your snort turns into a laugh. The bride’s head snaps around, and you go quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” you choke out.

“If she decides to throw a punch at your pretty face,” Matt’s breath tickles your ear, “I can be your attorney and sue her ass.”

This time, you’re conscious enough to slap a hand in front of your mouth to stifle your reaction. “How do you know I’m pretty?” you whisper back between little giggles.

He shrugs with a smirk of his own. “I just know.”

He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, and you have no choice but to submit.

Janet manages to bring some calm back to her friend eventually, and then it’s showtime. Right on the second, it’s time for you to walk down the aisle, and you have never been happier about a strict schedule and someone adamant about keeping that schedule for the sake of all of your lives.

Your roommate has always been a very dominant personality, so you’re aware of the things she can do when she doesn’t get what she wants. 

An 80s pop ballad begins to play. You make sure to match your pace to everyone else but also make sure that you’re not running away from your partner.

You may have been a mismatched bridesmaid, but you can’t complain about the company. 

Against all odds, the service is beyond beautiful. It’s not often you get to stand so close when two people who seem to truly love each other make a vow to be there for each other for the rest of their lives. You can’t help but shed a tear. They complement each other perfectly. Is that ever in the cards for you? Will you ever be able to have what they have? Or will you always feel like you’re not worthy of this kind of unconditional love and endless devotion—of someone wanting to spend the rest of their life with you?

You look over at Matt. The hint of a cross necklace is starting to peek out underneath his dress shirt. Of course, he’s Catholic. 

He carries himself with such a grace that puts everyone else in this room to shame. Does he know that you’re staring at him? You hope not.

After the ceremony, you lose sight of Matt in the masses. He doesn’t owe you a goodbye, but you still feel a little disappointed when you return to the dressing room and finally peel the satin dress off of your very sweaty skin. 

At the party afterward, he’s still nowhere to be found. You give up. Not that you want to spend the evening with him anyway, but you kind of do. You drown your sorrows in a glass of vodka cranberry and a bowl of olives. They taste like rotten meat, but there are too many people by the buffet for your liking. The last thing you want to do is mingle and get asked stupid questions by people you don’t even know. So, you stay back, and you watch from afar as everyone is having the time of their lives not so far away from you, but far enough for you to breathe.

“And here I thought weddings were supposed to be a joyous occasion,” Matt pipes up beside you, and you twirl around in your chair to face him with wide eyes.

You didn’t expect to see him back here. “Hi!” you exclaim. “What’re you—I thought you left.”

“Nah,” he says. “I just had to take care of some things.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

He smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes, that’s why I asked.”

Folding his cane, Matt lowers himself down on one of the chairs beside you and orders himself a beer with the bartender. “Let’s just say that I have an important court case coming up and I had to make a call.”

You take another sip from your drink. “That sounds a lot more exciting than my life, to be honest.”

“You are sulking at a wedding. Thinking about an ex?”

“More like life in general.”

“Ah, yes, the eternal fear of dying alone.” He raises his bottle to yours. “I’ll drink to that.”

A laugh escapes you. “That was cynical,” you say.

“And you’re not?”

He beats you at your own damn game, and he finally gets that smile he has been vying for. 

“Are you smiling?” his voice is barely above a whisper. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “Maybe.” But the smile is audible in your voice, giving you away.

Matt smirks, nodding his head. “Good girl.” 

The sharp vodka runs down the wrong pipe. You cough. Did he just—

He did.

He pats your back, and his hand lingers a lot longer than it should. He looks so smug. Pleased with himself. That part of him is stupidly attractive to you, even though you would usually hate such cockiness in any other man. But Matt isn’t like any other man.

You apologize for your reaction, but he should be the one apologizing to you for throwing you off your game. What is he doing? You can’t read him. You wish you could because that would make this so much easier, but that’s probably the point. He wants to tease you. He wants to mess with your head. He’s a dick. A fucking attractive dick that could tell you to do just about anything and you in your flustered state would go along with it without hesitations. That’s the kind of control he has over you, and you just met. It feels like a twisted form of destiny, but you can’t quite believe it. Yet.

“Do you always do that?” you dare to ask.

He frowns. “Do what?”

“Flirt with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests?”

A playful smirk plays on his lips.  

“It’s been known to happen,” says Matt.

You poke your tongue against the soft tissue of your cheek. “Cheeky,” you murmur.

“That’s also been known to happen.”

“What, being cheeky with—”

“—with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests? Yes.” He’s catching on quickly.

You laugh and nod. “Yeah, that.”

“I do have to say though,” he adds, and for a second you think he might ruin the joke instead of playing it out further, but Matt is full of surprises, “Out of all the mismatched bridesmaids I’ve met in my thirty-something years of, um, living, you’re my favorite so far.”

With your hand, you start fanning your face rather dramatically. “I feel honored,” you say. 

Again, he chuckles. “You should be.”

“Why, because you’re so irresistible?”

“I was going to say that I don’t like a lot of people because, you know, they’re dicks, but that works too.”

“Wow.” You take another sip. The liquor burns its way down your sore esophagus. “You have balls, man.”

“Is that a problem?” he counters with a question.

The answer comes naturally. “No,” you say. “I like it.”

“Good.” Hearing you clink the ice cubes against your empty glass by swirling it around, Matt concludes that you need a refill. “Can I get you another drink?” he asks.

The question sounds so innocent, but the look on his face renders you speechless. His hand inches dangerously close to yours on the counter, his knee brushing yours, and the heat shoots straight to your neglected cunt. 

Fuck this.

“You could do that, or we could skip that part and just…you know.”

One brush of your hand against his thigh, that’s all it takes for him to know. 

Pushing you through the door to his apartment a few minutes later, his lips are on you. The door falls shut with a loud bang, and he presses you against the wall of his hallway. 

His lips feel like a silky cloud of lewdness. The way he kisses you is utterly erotic. Your lips part in a delicious moan that he swallows with a grunt of his own. He swallows it all, shoving his tongue into the tight confines of your mouth, and exploring every inch he can reach. He tastes you. He consumes you. 

His hands desperately search for an ounce of bare skin. He’s tugging at your clothes, sliding and tearing them aside. Once his fingers finally brush over the bare skin of your stomach, he melts. 

You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your leg hooks around his waist. You can’t wait. He has ignited a fire within you that no one has been able to light before. He’s touching you with a precision that puts your former lovers to shame. He’s paying attention to your every breath and heartbeat, and with every touch, he asks, “May I?” 

You don’t even make it to the bedroom. Once he has successfully removed the bottom half of your clothes, he falls to his knees. He is a sight to behold. The disarray of colors that shines into his apartment illuminates his face, bathing it in a selection of hues that bring out his best features. 

Matt has yet to take off his glasses, and you take the opportunity to tear them away from his face. You’re gentle though. You ask him, “May I?” mirror the question he has been asking you throughout the night, and after a thick swallow, he nods.

You caress his cheek as you remove his glasses, and when you finally see his hazel eyes in all of their glory, you have to bow down to capture his lips in a soft kiss. 

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper. “So fucking beautiful, Matt.”

He whimpers. You could have sworn to have imagined it, but when you stroke his cheek with such a gentleness it almost makes him recoil in anguish, you know that you didn’t imagine the sound from his lips. You kiss it away. You kiss all of his insecurities away. You want him to feel as good as he is making you feel. You don’t know him, but you want to get to know him, and if he’s ready to surrender himself to you, you are more than ready to do the same for him. He can feel that with every brush of your fingertips and every kiss you deliver to his plump lips that taste like heaven and hell in itself.

Your words don’t leave him cold. His cock is aching in his pants—you take note of his impressionable size, which only makes you more excited for what’s to come—but he refuses to take it out. Not until you’re fully satisfied. To be honest, you could come just from staring at him on his knees in front of you, looking like he would lay the world to your feet and kill everyone who has ever dared to hurt you, but that is not enough for him. 

He needs the experience. Feeling your skin, tasting you, and breathing in all facets of your natural scent mixed with the artificial one from your shampoo. He can’t get enough of it. Of you. Of everything about and within you. He’s as attracted to your body as he is consumed by your soul. You’ve got him in a deadlock, but he would never complain about that.

You gasp when Matt grabs your thigh and throws it over his shoulder. Your panties are gone within seconds, torn on the floor somewhere. You’re completely bare to him. 

You want to warn him that you didn’t shave, but he doesn’t care. 

Before you know it, he has flattened his tongue against your pussy, and he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit. 

“Fuck!” you cry out, reaching for support on the wall behind you.

He flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, testing the waters before he sucks it into his mouth. 

His grip on your thigh becomes bruising. Matt eats you out like he has been starving for years and you are his first and last meal. He sucks on your clit, and he fucks you with his tongue. Your pussy is the altar he worships at. Your arousal is his holy water. He dives deeper and deeper into the wetness between your thighs, and he moans loudly when you pull at his hair.

“Fuck, Matt–” You’re clawing at whatever you can find. It feels so good. You’re higher than you have ever been.

The sound of his mouth working your slick folds toward eternal bliss is obscene and utterly sinful. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs. The pain grounds you in the here and now, making you focus on the tidal wave that is about to crash into you and tear you to shreds. 

You can’t even warn him before your orgasm takes over, and it takes you into another dimension. You come with a shout of his name. It’s nothing short of explosive. The orgasm drags on through his mouth on your clit, relentlessly sucking until the nerves jump, and you’re begging him to stop. 

His face glistens. With every kiss up your body, Matt marks you. By the time he has reached your quivering lips, he still tastes like you.

“You did so well,” he whispers. “Such a good girl for me.”

You exhale. Without his shoulders to hold onto, you would probably lose your footing. “You’re crazy,” is all you can say. 

He smirks. “In a good way, I hope.”

“Yes. Fuck.”

“Regret coming home with me?”

“Absolutely not.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He lifts you with ease. “Then I’m going to make it worth your while.”

And when your back hits the soft mattress and silk sheets of his bed, you don’t doubt that he is going to make good on his promise. 

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #daredevil #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #daredevil x reader #reader insert #lizzi’s vault #charlie cox

[venusphoriia]

— Maybe In Another Life

;; ₍ # ₎ ⁀➷ Clarisse La Rue x Reader

─ she honestly would’ve loved you.

cw ཿ⠀ not proof-read, major character death, description of coping with losing a loved one, angst no comfort, (written with a female reader in mind, but honest no pronouns are used (I think??))

ପ a/n ; literally a quick dump (it’s been sitting in my drafts for about a month) because I’ve been super busy. I’m still working on Lovesick Denial Part 2 and another request, so one of those may be released next. Thank you so much for the support and I hope you enjoy! (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃♡︎

Clarisse stares blankly at the gravestone. The flower gently twirls in her hands mindlessly. The sun felt warm against her skin, the wind—a perfect breeze. The weather was calm, mellow like the calm after a storm.

The sky was bright, much too bright for Clarisse’s liking. Especially now, but she knew this weather is something you enjoy. Everything looked so alive, free—perhaps even a bit happy. She felt so out of place. Nothing felt right, like something was missing. She knew, but she wanted to deny it a bit longer.

She sinks deeper into her thoughts—memories that she treasures. For a moment, she allows them to completely consume her senses, reliving them as if they were the present. She can hear your heartfelt laughter from afar, drawing closer as you approach her.

You quickly quiet your movements, sneaking up on Clarisse from behind. She closes her eyes, pretending not to hear you (like she always does). She feels you creep closer, you hand slowly reaching out towards hers. A soft chill runs up her spine as your fingertips brush against her skin.

She waits quietly for the sound of your voice, but it never comes. Clarisse brow furrows softly, she closes her eyes tighter in concentration. Your hands slip into hers, but they aren’t as soft as they used to be. Still, she imagines your smile as you slowly trail your hand up her arm, carefully tracing her scars as you alway did, until your hand rests along her neck.

Again, she listens carefully for your soft laughter, but again, she’s left waiting. She feels your hand cup her face and again the touch feels odd. It’s warm, but so foreign. Even the way you held her felt so…different. She tries to correct the mistakes in her mind, wanting to indulge deeper into her fantasy.

Again, she waits. Yearning to hear your voice, she waits as her eyes desperately remain closed.

“Clarisse?” Again, she is left disappointed. She breaks away from her daydream, her eyes slowly opening. Tears slip past her eyes as she meets a look full of pity and concern, “…You alright?”

The question is hesitant as if scared to provoke Clarisse’s anger. Clarisse looks away, down at his hand that carefully holds hers. The flower in her hand was tight in her grip as if she was afraid to let go.

“I’m fine,” her tone is rough as she wipes away her tears, pulling away from Chris’ touch.

Chris Rodriguez, son of Hermes. Someone she had grown close to since—no, she doesn’t want to think about it. She places the flower among the many others on the gravestone. A beautiful Daffodil among the many others. Clarisse smiles softly to herself as she sees the gifts others have left behind in your memory. She knew you would appreciate them all.

Your greatest fear was being forgotten—or worse being remembered as someone who never did much with their life. It brings Clarisse a little comforting knowing that your anxieties would’ve been put to rest if you had realized how much you are truly loved.

Clarisse wipes away her tears again, clearing her throat before standing back up. She walks past Chris, not being able to find the strength within herself to even spare him a glance. He doesn’t comment on it, following behind her, but also being mindful to keep his distance.

She looks down at her hand, the ring feels rather tight around her finger. A wave of anger, hurt, and disappointment hit her as she swallows the bitterness in her throat. She looks away. She pretends it’s your ring, your engagement—that she’s your fiance.

She truly would’ve married you. If only you’d been able to stick around, maybe you would have said yes.

© venusphoriia 2024 — do not copy or repost any of my works on any other platform, please and thank you !! ( ˘ ³˘)♡

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #clarisse x you

[sanjisblackasswife]

Monster Trio React to Breaking the Bed (NSFW)

Ft. Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Ace, Shanks, Law, Corazon

Black Fem Reader

I’ll do a part 2 later I’m just clearing my drafts rn.

Sanji

It scared him for a second because he never thought he’d be that rough as to breaking the bed in the first place.

Finds it kind of hot

While he was on top of you, vision and mind blurry not thinking about anything else but how good you were feeling

Pussy drunk as usual

You both were so loud and you kept begging Sanji to go faster and deeper you didn’t even hear the bed frame crack the first time as a warning

“Please Sanji More!”

“Of course—fuck—yes!”

The bed was becoming more louder due to some of the wood breaking down as Sanji began to fuck you with your thighs against your chest

All that anyone could hear in your room was the bed slamming against the wood wall and skin slapping

You could feel the vibration of the crackling bed above your head, you wanted to question it but Sanji was too much in a bliss moaning in your ear and his voice was so pretty you forgot about it

“Fuck! I’m cum—-!”

Mid thrust the top of the bed fell completely causing Sanji to shift and fall further inside you making you both moan out.

You both realized the bed was broke and you laughed , but Sanji didn’t want to stop. For some reason this uneven position felt even better. Your pelvis was up higher and He felt more of you.

He gave you a pleading look to keep going and of course y’all did. Y’all were Horny rabbits .

Zoro

You knew this was going to happen

This man doesn’t hold back when he fucks you and each time he does you swear you hear the headboard crack just a little

You noticed but he didn’t

He was a bit angry at you today for teasing him

He was jackhammering you while holding on to the headboard as usual because that’s how he is

As Dick drunk as you were you snapped out of it hearing an unusual tearing sound by your head.

“B-baby!”

Zoro mistaken your cries as whines for him to keep going so he went faster making your eyes rolls back seeing as he was really hitting your G-spot now not feeling a slight shift of the bed on the left side

His grip became tighter, veins popping out and grunting harshly until

“FUCK!”

The headboard is snapped in half and half of the bed was on the floor.

“Zoro I told yo stupid ass to stop!”

“Like hell you did you just kept moaning! Because I felt that fucking good didn’t I—“

“You was aiight.”

Zoro twitched his eye at you and grabbed your hips to thrust up into making you cry out again.

“Y-you—-Ass—-ah!”

“Shut up we’ll —-fuck—-sleep on the floor if we have to.”

Luffy

Does not notice and does not care

For some reason when Luffy has sex with you from behind he gets more feral than usual. His senses are dull to anything exact your jiggly ass and the way you clench around him

Tonight he actually wanted to try using his 2nd Gear on you in that position, you were scared he may accidentally hurt you but he reassured you he wouldn’t even if he tried

Well he kept his word but that didn’t mean the bed was safe from being hurt

“Lu!! Luffy!”

The bed wasn’t in great condition anyways, once you both started having sex the bed started to get more and more worn so you asked Franky to make you guys a steel bed frame instead of wood.

“You feel so good! Need..more!”

Luffy would subconsciously smack your ass as his other hot hand held your neck down. His body heat was so hot and his thrust became so erratic you felt the bed shake with you

“Wait! Luffy the be—-!!”

The entire bed fell and the steel bed frame actually manages to fall into the floor, slightly peaking out above the kitchen ceiling

“Woah…heh…my bad!”

He says he is “sorry” but he doesn’t stop. He wanted to finish and that’s what he did until Usopp busted in with his eyes closed telling you both that Sanji is furious about his kitchen.

You guys got a new bed but now he likes how it feels when the bed breaks so he has a secret goal of doing it each time

#one piece #TimikosMonsterTrio #one piece headcanons #black reader #one piece smut #one piece x female reader #sanji #sanjionepiece #sanji imagine #sanji x black reader #sanji x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro hcs #monster trio #sanji scenarios #mugiwara no luffy #one piece luffy #luffy headcanons #luffy scenarios #luffy smut #luffy imagine #luffy x black reader #zoro smut #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #luffy x reader

[what-shitfuckery-is-this-ew]

A Critique of Riordan's: Neurodivergency

tldr: Rick made ADHD and dyslexia superpowers in the books which fit the time he wrote the books, but it's not accepted now cause it diminishes neurodivergent struggle. At the same time he made autism coded characters the 'annoying' ones and had a very racist thing of having the only neurotypical be Frank.

He tried to fix it in the show. It worked for about 3 seconds.

TW: Ableism, Autism speaks mention, r slur, anti-schizo stuff.

This paragraph is useless so don't read if you don't want to: Sitting in my drafts are 3 different 'A critique of Riordan's' posts i made as i tried to redo my full critique of the Riordanverse with a little more positive feedback and a little less Rick Riordan is the devil spawn. I have decided to not do it in order because because i watched the show and i noticed some things which were iffy and others which were great. So yeah neurodivergency first. Enjoy and think Critically.

Books

Research and Diversity

The books were written in the early 2000s for Rick's son who has ADHD and dyslexia

As a result, it takes on a very "your ADHD and dyslexia is a superpower" message which were popular during the time, but we recognise now has delegitimised neurodivergent struggles

Also as a result, the books were very focused on his son's symptoms, and represented ADHD as a monolith which quickly turned into stereotypes (e.g jumpy, impatient and fast reflexes becoming the connecting feature of half-bloods)

It got so unresearched that at one point he said:

He also talks about coffee in a similar way, despite sugar and coffee not making us more hyperactive and instead making us sleepy. Unless all the scientists and people with ADHD are wrong i really don't know this works.

and also said this: "Leo was extremely ADHD even by demigod standards" Like what

But the worst part about the PJO books was that the neurodivergency was limited to the first book. Percy's ADHD and dyslexia magically vanish and honestly it's only really brought back up in HOO every now and then (not very well might i add)

Ways he could have improved:

He could have given other characters, like Annabeth, more diverse symptoms of ADHD. It wasn't that hard, For Annabeth recognise that she as a 'gifted kid' is more likely to have undiagnosed and so have to face the issues related to being undiagnosed and/or being both a gifted kid and having ADHD, and then also give her more symptoms common to girls like being really chatty or frequently daydreaming.

Continuing having ADHD (and dyslexia) as constant parts of the novels rather than throwaway lines. Build it into the characters actions and persona rather than add it on like an accessory

Research. Never stop researching. Always reach out to people with the disorders and ask them to help. Writing is nothing without research.

Get sensitivity readers

Grammar

This is really minor, but he keeps say ____ was ADHD, and like gramattically that's a no. I am not a disorder i am a person with a disorder . Note for autism, the prefered grammer is Autistic person (aka turn into adjective and describe, something we can't do with ADHD)

Nico and Leo

Making Leo and Nico the 2 characters who were annoying and unlikeable (to everyone else not to fans) was really weird cause these 2 characters were the autistic coded ones.

NOTE: I did see a post explaining it better in the past, and i will link it when/if i find it again.

Tyson and the R Slur

I genuinely think he tried to make the r-slur scene show that it was bad, but the way Percy reacted to it wasn't quite right. Especially for childrens books these things need to be really clear. So it was good to make a bad bully character who was hated say it, but he could have made it better by skipping Percy saying "He’s not r*tarded" and go straight to "I had to try really, really hard not to punch Sloan the face."

The scene was ok, it could have been better, but again these were written in the 2000s, we have to acknowledge that.

Percy and School

Now this is interesting because this is more recent. Percy tried really hard in school and was smart, it was part of his characterisation. But he never did well in school, because that's how his disability affected him (especially since it was the American school system which we all know is shit and even more shit for people with learning disabilities).

The problem stems from TSATS, where Percy is made out to skip school, and not try at all (feeds into people with ADHD do bad cause they don't try/are lazy)

credits to @aroaceleovaldez

Racism: Frank Zhang

Frank Zhang the only Asian member of the 7 has no form of neurodivergency, despite the rest of them all having. It must be a just coincidence that there's a stereotype that asians are really smart and good at maths and the fact that the rest of the Romans have dyscalculia/s.

It's not weird at all that the character instead has lactose intolerance, which is really common in East Asia unlike dyslexia, ADHD or dyscalculia, which has such a low rate of diagnosis because there is a large stigma behind the disorders and because white people don't think Asians can have learning disabilities/s. No not weird at all that the dude is described with symptoms of dyspraxia but Rick refuses to recognise he is not neurotypical/s

I'm stepping out of sarcasm speak to remind you that Asians with learning disabilities are significantly less likely to get diagnosed with anything because:

because their parents won't let them until they have no other choice (glares at my parents) because there's a massive stigma behind intellectual/learning/development disorders in these communities

When we do try to get diagnosed our claims are diminished because of racist stereotypes and the belief that booksmarts/giftedness = no learning disability. It means most psychologists and psychiatrists (who are usually white) think that all Asians are smart so they don't ever have any form of neurodivergency and we're left to struggle.

Schizo Rep

Octavian. Villain. Schizo. Again.

Do i even need to explain this?

Show

Not actually a specific disorder - Percy just has a learning disability

Interestly Percy's dyslexia is just never talked about, And even his ADHD is never mentioned by name. He's got a random learning disorder which isn't specified. At first i assumed it was still ADHD cause the books, but watching more, you realise they aren't actually focusing on what learning disorder he has and what he has to deal with as a result of that. It's just a generic learning disorder.

Which is weird because learning disorders are all different and we all face different things, even with the same disorder. So placing all learning disorders in the same group? not good. Don't know what i expected from disney, but it wasn't this.

Autism Speaks

So the show tried to acknowledge that Percy was constantly told he was special and heroic when he really wanted to have help for his issues and for people to recognise that he has problems and those are bad. It also represented less stereotypical adhd symptoms (though whether that's because the disorder is no longer adhd or whether they wanted more inattentive symptoms to be present, we'll never know)

but then it went ahead and used a broken puzzle metaphor for his neurodivergency?

Puzzle piece metaphors when talking about any form of neurodivergency are a no go because the creators of the metaphor literally want Autistic people dead.

I DON'T GIVE A SHIT THAT HE DOESN'T HAVE AUTISM, WE ARE NOT ALLIES TO THE AUTISM COMMUNITY IF WE USE THE LANGUAGE AUTISM SPEAKS CREATED

Not only that but a broken puzzle is not a good way to represent us anyways because NEURODIVERGENTS AREN'T BROKEN.

#rr crit #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #my post #rick riordan #anti rr #rrverse #pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa #A critique of Riordan's #rick riordan critical #dyslexia #anti rick riordan #annabeth chase #hoo #heroes of olympus #tw: autism speaks mention #leo valdez #piper mclean #hazel levesque #reyna avila ramirez arellano #frank zhang #heros of olympus #pjo #riordanverse #pjo tv show #pjo series #adhd #neurodivergent

[fruitywritter]

Two Hearts • | Part 1 |

Part 2

Summary: Things have been rough lately, Christmas are getting closer and you find yourself on top of the astronomy’s tower to clear your head. But who knew that this night you would meet someone so special to you.

Pairing: Hermione Granger x gn!reader

Tw: depression? Fluff

Words: 2.2k

A/n: Last post for the 2023 year, this one was in my drafts and I was planning to write more. I guess now it’s going to be more parts (?) If you guys like it (:

It was late, past midnight for sure. You couldn’t sleep, you weren’t even tired. You just laid there in your bed facing the ceiling. You always had that problem, not being able to sleep, but tonight your insomnia was worse than usual. Also your depressing thoughts didn’t help that much tonight. You would usually read a book or talk with your roommates until you felt tired but this time you knew it wouldn’t work. It was already late and everybody was sleeping. So you decided to do the one thing that you were sure it would work. Going on a walk around the castle.

Even though you didn’t do that very often, you always enjoyed it. Walking through the dark halls of the castle was something comforting to you, it made you feel free and relaxed. Your favourite place was the astronomy tower. Other people would think that it was crazy, walking around all alone in the darkness. But to you, it was comforting, it was the only time of the day that you were really alone. It was the only time where you could think clearly and be alone with your thoughts.

You put on your shoes quickly, grabbing your wand and sweater on the way to the door. Before you exited you pulled the cloth on and took one last glance behind you at your sleeping roommates. You walked quickly through the common room and outside in the hallway. It was kind of chilly out and you were thankful that you took your sweater with you. It was near Christmas days and probably in a few days snow would cover all over the place. Winter was your favourite season, you loved snow and you loved cold weather.

Climbing the stairs to the astronomy’s tower you couldn’t help but think about the holidays. Almost everyone would go back to their families to celebrate, but you. It’s not like you had anyone to go back to. Your friends had already planned going home so you were the only one staying at Hogwarts.

When you finally reached the top of the tower you started walking towards the railing. You looked down at the lake and mountains taking in the view. A soft cough made you turn back, taking in a sight of another person sitting at the steps. How did you not notice that there was already someone there. But then again, nobody usually came there, especially at this late hour. You started walking closer, trying to see who was there, only to be met with a pair of brown eyes. The moonlight shined through them, making them glow. “I’m sorry I didn’t know that there was someone already there..” You apologised to the girl in front of you. She had a book sitting on her lap and her wand on her right hand.

“It’s alright, not many people come here so I was also kind of shocked when I saw you walk up the stairs.” You heard her voice, it was soft and gentle. She had a beautiful voice, an angelic one. You stood there in front of the girl, not knowing what to say as you were at a loss of words. Usually that didn’t happen, but there was something about that girl, it made you nervous. You never really interacted with her, sure you’d hear her talking while in class as you two shared a few classes together, such as potions and charms. But you never introduced yourselves to each other. You realised you hadn’t said anything so you cleared your throat and let a small smile.

“That’s true. I was also shocked to find you up here, I don’t come here often, only when I need some quiet, you know?” You said, beginning to walk towards her. You took a seat beside her, not too far but not too close, you didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“Trust me, I know. I come here for the same reason, this place has something unique. I like to read books here, other days I just sit and watch the stars on the sky.” She spoke so quietly, closing her book and slightly turning her body towards you, “I believe we’ve never got to introduce ourselves, I’m Hermione Granger.” She smiled and extended her hand for you to shake.

You happily took it with yours, “That’s a lovely name. I’m Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n.” You nodded with a little smile, of course you knew her last name. You had heard countless times the professors calling her “Miss Granger”. But you’ve never got to know her first name until now and you couldn’t help yourself but to compliment her. Not going to lie, you always had a little crush on her deep down. Even though you’ve never spoke to her, every time she was in the same room you eyes would always find her.

But you never had the courage to go and actually talk to her, you were that much of a coward. You also couldn’t talk about her to your Slytherin friends, since they would probably curse you about her being a Gryffindor and a “mudblood”. You didn’t like that word, it was really offending. As a Slytherin, many would thought that you would be the classic stereotype. You were a pure blood, but you didn’t have any problems with muggleborns. You actually had many friends from other houses that were muggleborns.

You watched as Hermione slightly blushed and tried to hide it. Pulling a strand behind her ear, she smiled. “Y/n, it sounds unique.” At that you let out a laugh, “Oh believe me, it’s not that unique. My parents gave it to me after they read it on a book.. My dad was like a bookworm back in the day as he had told me, I bet he didn’t have to try hard to find a name for his child.” You chuckled, thinking about him was sad. It all happened so fast that you still hadn’t got used to it even after all these years.“I like it.” Hermione giggled as it was time for you to blush. Wow taking a compliment from Hermione was the best feeling.

“So, what were you reading?” You asked, moving closer to her to take a look from the cover of her book.

“Oh that? It’s nothing, just a stupid book I bought last summer. I didn’t get to finish it, I usually only read school books. But I can’t deny it, it’s really good.” She spoke, taking the book in her hands and showing you the familiar cover.

“So you’re like a little bookworm? I already knew that you’re a great student but reading school books only?” You teased her, “that’s a great book by the way, I read it once. The end had me crying for two days, but I won’t be spoiling you anything else.” You added with a chuckle as you playfully bumped your shoulder with hers.

“I’m not a bookworm, I just like reading books and studying. But it’s not like I have my head inside a book the whole time..” She said, trying to act offended but you could she the small smirk on her lips. You muttered a “yeah right.”and she smacked you playfully on your shoulder making you two laugh. After you calmed down she spoke again, “So what made you come up here? You said you needed quiet.” Hermione asked, looking up to your eyes.

“Oh you know, just life..” You sighed, turning away not really knowing what to say. “I couldn’t sleep. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot, I have so many things on my mind and it’s getting kind of crowded in there. So I tend to escape from all of this, even if it is for a bit.”

Thoughts of your dead father and your alcoholic mother who got herself lost came into your mind without your consent. Thinking about the things you could do to avoid all of these shit to happen. You came up here to escape from all of these but here you are now thinking about it.

A soft hand on your shoulder brought you back to the present as you turned on your right, looking at those brown eyes. “I get that, I know it hurts not being able to escape from your thoughts. But if you ever want to talk to somebody, just know that I’m here and I’d love to hear you.” She smiled comforting at you. There was something about her, you couldn’t exactly catch on it but it felt familiar. You found comfort around her.

“Thank you, Hermione.” You tried your best to smile and leaned back against the wall behind you.

“I have to say, I’m surprised..” She spoke suddenly after a few minutes of silence. You turned to look at her, your face full of curiosity. “You’re nice to me, even though you’re a Slytherin and I’m a Gryffindor, our houses hate each other, and here you are being nice towards me.”

“Not all Slytherins are bad, Hermione.. I mean sure, there is a small hate between our houses but I don’t really care about all of these. Those stereotypes about the Slytherins being evil is an absolute lie in my opinion. It’s just the human character.” You sighed, you never hated Gryffindors. It was the opposite actually, you respected them. They were brave and loyal, well the most of them at least.

“Yes I know, I’m sorry I didn’t want it to come out mean. I just thought that you might be like the others. You know, Malfoy, Parkinson and the others. They usually like to call us names and I’m pretty sure they really, really hate us.” Hermione explained.

I nodded in understatement, “Yeah, they like to uh, bully people..” You and Draco were friends the first year, but eventually when you saw how he treated others you confronted him. Nothing changed so you decided to leave, you didn’t support him for that. He would have been a great person if he wasn’t that much of a jerk and a bully. You also almost punched him when you heard him calling Hermione a “mudblood”, Potter was quicker than you as he casted a spell throwing him on the wall behind him. That happened last year but it still made you angry as you imagined how many times Malfoy had bullied the girl beside you. “Hey, I’m sorry for that. They’re jerks for doing that.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologise for them. I’m used to it by now.” She said trying to smile but you knew that she pretended to be okay with it. It pained you seeing her like that. You scooted closer, placing your arm around her shoulders and pulling her towards you.

“Got any plans for Christmas holidays?” You asked, trying to change the subject. You started running your thumb over her arm, waiting for her to talk.

“Not really, I’ll just stay here this year. Harry and Ron also decided to stay so we will spent the holidays together.” She mumbled as her head laid on your torso. Hermione liked your touch, it was comforting and warm. “What about you?” She added, looking up to you with those eyes.

“Well, I love spending Christmas at Hogwarts, it’s really beautiful here and peaceful when almost half the school isn’t here..” You chuckled, it wasn’t really a lie. It was just one of the reasons why you stayed. The other one being because even if you went home, there would be no one there. So you preferred not being alone in a house that brought you so much memories.

“Oh well, we can spend it together then!” Hermione said with an excited voice, “if you haven’t already planned with your friends, of course..” She added, feeling a bit of nervousness. What if you didn’t want to?

“Yeah, sure. I’d love to spent it with you. All of my friends will be going home anyways so I wasn’t planning anything.” You said, your voice also expressed excitement as you looked down at Hermione.

She smiled and blushed, probably you did too. You stayed like this for longer, just enjoying the company of one other. Eventually you had to go back to sleep so you two began walking back to your dorms. You offered to walk Hermione to her common room, after her denying it and you saying that you’d love to. You found yourselves making a small talk while walking the nearly dark hallways. Eventually you stopped outside of the fat lady’s portrait, you turned to Hermione who stood there looking at you.

“I had a great night, Hermione. Thank you.” You smiled, watching the brown eyed girl smile back at you.

“No, thank you. I liked your company, you’re really not that boring..” She teased you and you laughed quietly at that.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You asked with a hopeful voice.

“Definitely.” She confirmed.

“Good night, Hermione.”

“Good night, Y/n.” You watched as she turned around and said the password to the portrait. She then got inside and turned one last time, giving you a smile before she disappeared inside the tunnel. With that you turned and left with a grin on your face. You were tired but you couldn’t stop thinking about her. The moment your head hit the bed you fell immediately asleep, having dreams about that beautiful girl you met today at the astronomy tower.

#hermione granger #hermione x reader #hermione granger x reader #harry potter

[importantgalaxyrunaway]

Honeysuckle (Coriolanus snow x reader) pt 2

part one here

summary: what if Coriolanus snow met y/n in the arena during the games??

Warnings: angst, kinda suggestive, slight plot divergence, take place during movie, lovesick characters. (This has been in my drafts for a while and this idea in my head for even longer)

(Coryo’s pov) y/n. Y/n y/n. That’s all that I could think about ever since their last “meeting”. From then on every single moment of her in that arena had been torture for him. They say love made people crazy and this was definitely the case for me. Love? Is this what this is? Pull it together it was one kiss! One extremely good kiss from one extraordinary girl! I needed to-to calm down. I need her. I didn’t know how to explain it she made him feel safe. He wasn’t afraid to tell about his struggles with poverty with her.

I stared at my screen blankly. God ever since she set foot in that arena it had been torture.the worst part is I’m powerless to stop it. I’m always terrified that her breath will leave her chest one last time. That her eyes will never see that spark again. That I could never smell the sweet scent of honeysuckle that fills the air wherever she walks by. That her lips…so soft, so fiery and passionate would never touch his again. I fear I would never be able to hold her again. Not through bars like he did the night before he left. More intimately to see and care for every aspect of her beautiful , beautiful body. As normal lovers would. Such a luxury it would be to be normal. even if she did survive there would be some who looked down on her still. But I could easily get rid of them…..! The arena was on screen but the tributes were sleeping. I looked around, it was dark I was the only one and certainly the only mentor left. Of course they didn’t have such complicated feelings for their tributes. So I grabbed my coat and started walking home. As I was walking through the cold crisp air. My mind wandered. If y/n l/n survives she could come to captial with him. She said she wasn’t exactly district and she didn’t have any family other than the covey. If their “relationship” continues she could even become the First Lady of panem….

but we need to focus on keeping her alive? But how can u do that when people are actively trying to kill her……

I was so lost in thought about y/n being kept alive and possibly things I could do with her if she survived that I didn’t notice senjanus’s mother sitting in the kitchen talking to the grand ma’am. But everything became clear when I saw senjanus himself on the tv in the arena……..

(y/n’s Pov)

I shiver and hug my knees against my chest. The arena was cold and drafty, it didn’t help that I was hiding behind large pieces of rubble in the shadows alone. I smoothed out my colorful dress that matches my hair with its warm color's.no what was worse than the cold was the loneliness. I feel so abandoned, left to fend for myself. As I smooth out my dress my fingers come across the contact in my pocket. I take it out and trace the intricate and complex design with my fingers. I feel every groove on the surface. It’s feels like an embraces from Coryo himself. As I trace the patterns I lean my head back and close my eyes I can almost imagine him intertwining his fingers with mine, him kissing my neck, his hands roaming all over my body………underneath my shirt…..

That boy was something else. Unlike any other district boy I’ve ever seen. He sure was captial but even in the capital! He was one of the most handsome people I’ve ever met. His aura expresses confidence, while in truth he does it to hide is family turning to shambles. The truth is he’s made me feel things I’ve never felt for someone before. Yes I’ve kissed boys before but as an 18 tribute I can say that none of them mattered. I never cared for them. It just filled time. With Coriolanus I didn’t feel that I felt passion and something else..? Hunger? Those kisses did the opposite of satisfying me they made me want more. When I kissed him I felt something stir deep inside me….

I hear footsteps near the cornucopia and I dare to peak my head out. I see the signature academy red color and a boy with brown hair, seajanus I now recognize him he is sprinkling bread crumbs over Marcus’s body. But then my heart skips almost three beats when I see another boy with blond hair in academy red uniform come out. He speaks to boy and convinces him to stand up. I decide to risk it I go run into the open and see them.

“y/n!” He turns to me

“Coryo!”

I hold and cradle his face softly as if it is the last thing on earth. I grab it fearing that he will be taken from me or this is just some sick twisted trick my dr. Gaul.

“oh god your alive…” words seem to fail him but meet his eyes with my own and see tears in his. “You’re alive” A tear he fought back trickles down his face. I move my hands from his face and so I put them around his neck. At this moment I don’t care if senjanus is still there.

“I love you” i whisper

“I love you too” he whispers back

that’s all I need before I lunge at his neck kissing it fiercely. I find one spot and suck and kiss it. Knowing it will leave a mark…something to remember me by. A light groan leaves his mouth. Almost a soft moan, small enough for only me to hear. His hands travel to my waist. My kisses now travel away from the hickey that is forming and hug him. We desperately grab at each other both astonished that each other is still alive. He cups my face.

“Y-you need to go!” I snap to my senses “the tributes will be coming soon!”

“I know…seajanus?” “i-“: I turned to face the tributes and run, run for my life because truthfully i am. My feet take up a mind over their own and sweat drips down my face. The tributes however run after Coriolanus and sejanus. I duck away into the catacomb where my things are stashed. Some sparse food and water from a sponsor. I look around to see if anyone if there then small tears trickle down my cheeks.

“Corio….corio…….im sorry…. I wish we met different…I really do”

(Please leave a comment if you can and let me know what you think)

#fanfic #fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfic #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo x reader #snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x y/n #tbosas #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #tom blyth fanfiction #hunger games x reader #hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #coryo snow #coryolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coryo x you

[sapphos-ode]

Little One

Lady Dimitrescu Find part 2 here

Didn’t mean to post this from my drafts and idk how to put it back so. Here we go, it’s a mess sorry

~

The Countess’ head fell to the pillow as if tethered to a leaden weight, she had not the energy to care about how unladylike she was at that precise moment; what mattered to her was seeking out the comfort of slumber. In her haste to crawl into bed she had discarded her day clothes, strewn them across the floor, undergarments decorating her vanity seat, and her night gown chucked haphazardly onto one of the nightstands that flanked either side of her bed. Alcina was in a limbo like state between wake and sleep when a maid slipped into her bedchamber, she found she didn’t have the energy to open her eyes, a simple groan left her as she curled up into herself, bunching the duvet to her chest.

“My apologies, I was unaware you were in here, my lady,” the maid’s voice came as a low murmur, something that Alcina was glad for.

The response was another bedraggled sound, and if the Countess was more aware she would have heard the suppressed giggle. Silence wrapped the room as Alcina struggled to find the rest that she so desperately needed. A short period of time passed when Countess picked up on movement in the room, she willed herself to sit up, open her eyes and see who was intruding... but alas she hadn’t the strength. So she resorted to a mumbled question.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Cleaning, my lady,” it was the same soft voice from before, when the Lady out some thought into it, she never heard the door close to signify the maid’s exit.

“That should have been done before dinner,” Alcina tried to add an edge of annoyance to her voice, to no avail. She just sounded exasperated.

“Dinner is to be served in half an hour, my lady,” the maid paused momentarily, looking up from the bundle of silks she had collected for the washing.

“Oh,”

“Shall I inform your daughters of your absence?”

“Please,”

“Rest well, my lady,”

The maid was met with the lady’s steady breathing, for which she took as a sign that the she had finally fallen asleep. The maid approached the bed with light steps, her gaze travelled over Alcina’s form; taking her in, in all her beauty. A black ringlet swayed in time with each breath the Countess took.

“Oh, you’ve not even taken off your makeup, nevermind dressing for bed,” she spoke to no one.

With deft hands and a feathery touch, the maid tucked the stray hair behind the Countess’ ear, out of her face.

“You truly work yourself to the bone, I worry for you,” the maid continued to speak as she searched the vanity for a cloth, once in hand she headed to the attached en-suite, still talking away, “you are a remarkable woman,” her voice became clearer as she entered the room once again, with a damp cloth.

Once at the bedside again, the young woman coaxed Alcina’s head in a way that allowed her to gently wipe at the make up, one hand was caressing the Countess’ head, holding it, as the other cleared each layer of cosmetics with gentle hands. She spent ample time removing the makeup, ensuring that every crease in Alcina’s face was cleared, she stopped mid motion when her eyes spotted something in the Countess’ hair.

“You’ve left the pins in... you must have been exhausted,” the maid lamented as she set the cloth down and proceeded to take out the pins, freeing ringlets, allowing them to cascade onto the older woman’s shoulders, “you have such beautiful hair, I find myself wanting to run my fingers through it,”

Alcina stirred the slightest, prompting the maid to stroke her cheek with a tenderness that flowed through her touch, “worry not, I’m almost done, you can’t possible sleep in a full face if makeup and be comfortable,” a sweet chuckle followed the words, the maid walked back to the vanity and selected a few creams and serums before returning to the Lady’s side. She proceeded to massage each one into the Countess’ skin, taking care to be light with her touch. Once done, everything was returned and the young woman was stood gazing at Alcina’s form.

She watched over the countess for another few moments before leaving silently to help with the dinner service.

The maid would return later in the evening to check up on the matriarch. She entered just as quietly as she had left.

A frown presented itself on her face as her eyes focused on the Countess’ chest. It rose too quickly and fell too fast for someone to be sleeping peacefully.

“When I was just a babe, my mother would read to me... when I couldn’t sleep, I often had trouble sleeping,” she perused the selection of books the matriarch had lying on a small table, she found a tattered copy of ‘Carmilla’, and studied the cover before speaking again, “It helped. Greatly, and I think it also helped even if I was asleep, I suppose it’s the subconscious hearing a voice that is familiar and comforting,”

The maid looked over at Alcina, who’s brow was drawn ever so slightly.

“I know I do not provide that comfort for you, my lady, but it would not hurt to read the first few chapters to you, Carmilla is a personal favourite of mine... guessing from the state of the book, it’s a favourite of yours too,” the maid rambled on lightly as she took a seat and brought it over to the bedside. She leaned her elbows on the edge of the mattress and started to read. At some point she had taken to absentmindedly stroking and caressing the Lady’s upper arm.

A distant chime of a clock broke the spell and roused the maid from her reading, a soft sigh flew from her lips, “looks like this adjourns our reading... I’ll leave you to sleep on in peace, I must be off now,” she headed for the door after returning the book.

At the door she turned around and gently whispered, “sweet dreams, my lady,” before slipping away.

Seconds passed, then minutes until Alcina opened one eye and scanned the room, she was alone. Regret overtook her.

“I should have opened my eyes to see who you are, sweet one,”

#lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader

[pedge-stuff]

God I just thought about an idea for pedro and reader, reading your last post...

They are in a relationship and live together. The reader is also an actress. She asks pedro to practice her lines with her. In the play, she is having a really long line, breaking up with the person ans leaving them... pedro can't continue... at night in bed they are cuddling and pedro talks about how he hated the feeling or the thought of the reader ever leaving

(changed this slightly, hope that is OK...)

bad acting (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual.

thanks, as always, for everything.

(also I did that thing where I didn't save this on drafts fast enough and the whole fucking thing deleted so you could say im LIVID sorry if this rewrite felt rushed.)

summary: things get a little... too real.

—————————————————————————

"You can't laugh."

"I'm not gonna laugh!"

Pedro hands you his iPad, script loaded on the screen. "I'm serious," you warn him, "you had to stop last time, the acting was so bad."

"Just read the sides, baby."

You know he isn't nervous about the audition— if he was, he sure as shit wouldn't be practicing with you. Those rehearsals are reserved for his coach, or someone who can actually talk him through the scene. This was just a formality, a quick read-through for some anthological TV show about people in failing marriages. Season 2 of Oscar's old Amazon thing. With the audition being on Zoom tomorrow, the whole process feels fairly relaxed.

"Should I read it in a lady voice? Will that set the scene?"

"Please don't."

"Scottish accent?"

"Babe."

"Hmm." You clear your throat loudly, for dramatic effect. Across the room, feet propped on the desk, Pedro rolls his eyes. He's got his cheaters on, but no script— the audition's supposed to be off-book. "From the first page?"

"You're stalling."

"Ugh. Ok. Here we go." Leaning forward, you scroll to the highlighted text on the iPad. "Stop, David. You don't know what you're talking about."

Pedro's posture straightens; ever the professional, it's like watching a switch flip. The humored lines beside his eyes, little crows feet that crinkle when he looks at you, disappear completely. His brow furrows, gaze darkens.

"Of course I do, dammit. I'm done with this, all of this. It's like living in a mausoleum, Emma. I'd rather. Do you remember what love even feels like? Because I look at you, and I just... don't, anymore."

"You don't mean that."

"I do! I'm so tired of this. Life with you is joyless. Every day, I come home from work and just sit in the goddamn driveway because I don't want to come in the house. It's hard to be in the same room as you. I can't bring her back, Emma, and I miss her and I'm sorry she's dead. But it isn't my fucking fault and I wish you'd stop pretending it was."

His voice cracks, just a little. You frown as he grabs the glass of water beside him, pausing to wait, but he motions for you to continue.

"That's cruel," you read, "and you know it. That's not fair."

"None of this is fair!" Pedro exclaims. "That's the whole point. It's not fair that our daughter is dead while the girl who was driving got to walk away clean. Life isn't fucking fair. But it's life. And you've sucked all the light out of mine. I can't stand you, anymore, I'm sorry. I just can't. It's not that we can't make it work, it's that I don't want to make it work. If I never see you again, it'll be too soon. Jesus christ, I hate every part of this."

"Are you done? Have you gotten it all off your chest?"

"Don't placate me! This isn't one of your stupid therapy sessions, Emma, you can't fix this with a breathing worksheet and a roleplaying exercise. Be fucking serious. Every day I wake up and I wish I'd never met you. At least then, she wouldn't be dead, because she'd never have existed. And maybe I'd known some goddamn peace."

The page ends there, and you glance up. Pedro has his head in his hands, eyes closed.

"That was good," you offer tentatively, searching for some kind of sign as to what his next move is. He's gracious about work stuff, but you're always a little afraid of mucking up his process.

When he looks up, his eyes are glossy. "Yeah," Pedro says, croakily, clearing his throat quietly before rising from the chair. He takes the iPad back, wordlessly, shuttering the case over the screen.

"Wanna do it again? You were spot-on, Pedge, but we can go over it again if you want to."

"No," he says quickly. "No, I'm good. I'm fine. It's on Zoom, it'll be easy. I'm fine."

Weird. Just a little. Before you can dwell on his sudden cageyness, he's up, headed for the door.

"I'm gonna walk the dogs. We can catch up on Bake-Off, when I get back?"

Pedro leaves before you can answer.

— — — 

No sooner have the leashes been hung back by the door, than Pedro is beside you on the couch, all hands and light touches. It's as if he can't bear to lost contact. You allow him to reposition you, reaching a hand around your waist as you reach for the remote.

"Good walk?"

He hums, tugging you against him. Settles, finally, once you're half-reclined, back against his chest, arm around your middle. You fiddle with the edge of his sleeve as the bakers fumble their way through the signature challenge.

It's not that the clinginess bothers you— he's like this sometimes, when he's just returned home, or you've arrived in LA, or met somewhere in the middle. Every separation leaves him want for touch. It's the one thing you can't give him, while you're apart.

But he's been home a couple weeks now, in between reshoots for a new project. Been home all day, in fact, in an orbit around you while you attempted to work from home. (A little too close, frankly, but you can't really complain.)

"You okay?" You whisper, as the timer runs down on the technical bake.

No answer. Just a tightened grip on your waist, and a firm kiss to the top of your head.

— — — 

It isn't until later, in bed and half-asleep, that you pinpoint the source of the tension.

You'd have thought he was already asleep, save for the soft carding of his fingers through the baby hairs at the nape of your neck. Deep, even breaths tickle your forehead; he's curled around you, arm draped over your back. Had positioned himself this way silently, looking a little silly brooding in his Muppet-patterned pj pants.

"We're never reading lines again," Pedro whispers into the darkness.

"Was the acting that bad?"

Your attempt for levity falls flat. He is quiet, long enough for you roll backwards slightly, to get a better look at his face. A deep-set frown has taken root.

"No, it..." He tugs you closer again, tucking your head beneath his chin. If he weren't so sad, you'd call uncle for claustrophobia; your nose is squished into his jugular. But you lay still, waiting for him to continue.

"It felt too real," Pedro concedes. He inhales sharply, and you can feel it against your own chest.

The kiss you press to the hollow of his throat, doesn't feel good enough. You wiggle, tilting your head to press one against his toothpaste-tasting lips. Whiskers tickle the corner of your mouth.

"Baby, I know you were... pretending." A thin line between placating him and treading on his professionalism. "If our pretend daughter died in a car crash, I know you wouldn't divorce me for being too sad."

"It's not funny." With a groan, he kisses you again, resting his forehead against yours. "I hated saying that stuff to you. Felt too real."

The bone-crushing spooning is making a little more sense, now.

"I love you, but you're a sap."

"Hmph."

You smile into the next kiss. "A very sweet sap, though."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #din djarin #joel miller #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x male reader #joel miller x male reader #the mandolorian

[pomplalamoose]

DILF Luke headcanons / story draft pt. 5

🩵modern day AU🩵

A/N: Hellooo! So while this is the official last part of these headcanons/ this story draft, it's definitely not my last post about Dilf Luke.

I simply wanted to finish fully exploring the potential confrontations and misunderstandings I had in mind before going back to more lighthearted content such as "dating Dilf Luke" or "spending Christmas with Dilf Luke"

I hope that's in your interest as well, have fun reading and thank you so so much for your support🫶🏻🩵

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

• never before have you seen him like this and his intensity scares you

• theoretically speaking you know his anger isn't directed at you but the way he literally has you cornered, without a possibility to escape or change the topic, makes it rather hard to focus on that

• your mind is racing

• should you play along or expose your friends scheme?

• if only you knew all the details they came up with

• "Can we- can we go home to talk? I mean, to your house?"

• his knuckles around the steering wheel momentarily turn white before he sighs and reaches over you to strap you in

• for a moment you consider telling him that you are well able to put the seat belt on yourself but decide otherwise

• his cologne smells heavenly

• while he carefully merges the car into traffic, you discreetly take out your phone to text your friend

• since you doubt you'll get a chance to talk to them once you arrive, now is the time to collect as much information as you can

• "remember that one awful ex of yours?" comes the answer "yeahhhh I told my dad about him and said you're back together, so sorry xxx"

• pulling a face you start to reply

• but before you can hit send or see what else they have to say, Luke snatches the phone out of your hand and slides it into his breast pocket

• you gasp looking up at him, momentarily angry

• "I won't allow you to converse with that...person any longer, do I make myself clear?"

• you blink confusedly but quickly understand he thinks you were texting your supposed boyfriend

• you are about to say something, but then, remembering his car rule, decide to quickly clamp your mouth shut again

• better to not make this worse until you know what's going on

• the rest of the way you sit in silence

• Luke is fuming

• though now, that he has you safely by his side to keep an eye on you, he's slowly growing calmer

• the added fact that you called his home your home is nearly able to overshadow what his child oh so casually shared with him over breakfast

• yes, he can admit that perhaps his proceedings were somewhat hasty

• he definitely overstepped a line by taking your phone away

• and he's aware he scared you again

• with his hand on your thigh he can easily tell how tense you have grown

• slightly turning his head he sees how hard you're holding on to the straps of your bag and inwardly heaves a sighs

• you must believe he's angry at you; by now he knows you well enough to tell

• he doesn't want you to be afraid

• not of him

• NEVER of him

• at the thought he feels his anger bubbling to the surface again

• he doesn't understand how you could ever involve yourself with that imbecile of a man, while simultaneously failing to see him

• he's right there, right in front of you!

• there's so much he could offer you instead

• what does the other have that he doesn't?

• "owww"

• your little sound brings him back to the present and immediately he feels overwhelmed with guilt

• he is no better than your abusive so called "boyfriend"

• "I'm so sorry, sweetheart", he hears himself say; the words simply slipping out and away before he can stop himself

• but "'s okay", you whisper and release your bag to shyly touch his hand

• he called you sweetheart again

• your heart is racing and as your skin makes contact with his you suddenly feel rather light headed at your own boldness

• quickly you pull away again

• Luke restrains himself from ordering you to place your hand right back on his

• where it belongs

• you don't dare to ask him to return your phone

• not when the two of you eventually make it to your destination

• not when he helps you out of the car to lead you inside

• not when you sit down on the couch in the living room and make eye contact with your friend lingering near by

• especially not when his next course of action is to send them away

• you don't know what to expect, the anxiety making you feel slightly sick to your stomach

• you can't decide on what would be worse, an interrogation or a stern lecture like last time?

• but then he sits down close to you and when he speaks his voice is the gentlest it has ever been

• he isn't angry at you, just so, so worried

• who is that guy his child told him about?

• how did you end up in such bad company?

• are you really dating him?

• was this really your choice?

• or did he force you, leave you no other choice?

• does he hurt you?

• is he the reason you're not coming to visit anymore?

• is he systematically isolating you from your family and friends?

• you can tell him, you really can, he promises not to judge

• he'll take care of anything you ask if that's what you need to break free from this

• everything to make this easier for you

• he knows he's not your father, but surely he will never get a single night's sleep ever again knowing you're in a potentially dangerous situation

• please, break this off, he doesn't want for any harm to befall you

• overwhelmed you don't know what and how to respond

• at some point the situation got out of hand and there are so many things that you feel need to be taken into consideration

• so many questions

• it has never been more obvious how much Luke cares and how genuine his worries for you are

• but how does he view himself in relation to you?

• as a father figure or as a friend...or as something more?

• it would be easy enough to ask but you fear you won't get an answer, that he'll abruptly shut you out once more

• but won't he do so anyways when this conversation is done and over with?

• so far he always did after sharing an intimate moment with you

• confessing your own feelings isn't an option either, you promised your friend not to

• and from what you were told it would only elicit the same reaction

• in the worst case scenario it would lead to a rejection and a broken heart

• but even if it came to this, you could still uphold your friendship with your best friend, couldn't you?

• you wouldn't abandon them just because their father rejected you

• or maybe they want you to keep your secret for another reason entirely

• maybe they lied to you too

• this is such a mess and slowly the uncomfortable reality dawns on you then; there's no way out of this without someone getting hurt

• still you don't know what to say

• you look up at him and the pleading look in his lovely blue eyes; he truly is upset

• it would be easy, a relief even, to speak out, you think

• it would only be fair

• but continuing to lie would mean keeping your promise to your friend, saving face in front of their father

• in your panic you decide on something as close to the truth as possible

• "I- I don't know what to do"

• it's so hard to hold his gaze and when it inevitably softens even more, you start to cry

• alarmed he immediately reaches for you but you can't- you just can't take his comfort for a situation that is purely made up

• sobbing you push his arms away, desperate to ignore the way his brow furrows in...hurt?

• "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry"

• your words only serve to confuse and worry him even more

• what are you sorry for?

• what is it?

• oh won't you tell him?

• he'll make it all better if only you'll let him know what's wrong

• he'll keep it a secret too, nothing, not a word will leave this room if that's what you're afraid of

• ignoring your defensive gestures he cradles your face in his hands

• something in you breaks

• you have to tell him

• you just HAVE to

• how could you ever enjoy his caring attention when all it's based on is a lie?

• you'd rather have a broken heart borne out of honesty

• will your friend forgive you?

• will they understand?

• you hope so; the damage is done

• unable to calm down, with tears still spilling from your eyes, it takes you a while to stumble through your explanation

• Luke grows very quiet

• the fact that he's listening so intently, trying to understanding what's going on, only hurts you more

• you're horribly ashamed

• and even though you try to describe the situation from your point of view as best as you can, you feel like it will never be enough to make up for everything

• "I promised my friend not to tell you about my feelings for you", you say, "they are afraid it's going to end our friendship when you send me away."

• softly shaking his head he takes your hand in his to gently wipe your cheeks

• you gave him a lot to think about and eventually he will need to have several very very serious talks with you as well as with his child

• but right now he wants you to stop crying

• he is not angry at you

• in fact he's mostly relieved you're not dating that ex of yours again

• he tells you how thankful he is for your honesty; he sees and respects the courage it took to tell the truth

• it will all be okay, he promises

• you will always be welcome here at his house

***

• "so, do you think that means he likes me?", you ask your friend after a few weeks went by

• they give you a look

• "you're driving me insane, do you know that?"

• they never told you about any details of the several long conversations they had with their father

• you are able to take guesses though and understand they don't want to share certain aspects, especially not those that might involve their dead mother and you

• still it'd be a lie to claim you aren't exceptionally curious

• first and foremost because their father didn't comment on your feelings towards him in any way

• and like it so often is the case you are left guessing

• maybe he does return your feelings but isn't acting on them because of his child

• or your age difference

• or because he doesn't know where to start and is embarrassed by it

• or maybe he doesn't want to enter another relationship because of his late wife?

• maybe he needs more time

• possibly he doesn't return your feelings and just didn't tell you to avoid hurting you and his child

• "Not knowing what's going on is driving ME insane! Didn't you say you want him to be upfront about how he feels towards me?", you ask

• your friend agrees

• "and I told him too", they say

• falling quiet you look at each other, when suddenly you can tell they made up their mind about something

• they'll let you in on a secret

• as it turns out their father didn't tell them anything regarding his feelings either

• but they know him well and it's obvious to see there's something going on

• they thought a lot about your descriptions of his behavior around you; the presents, his touches, his protectiveness, the pet name, the lingering gazes, all the offers to stay over, to drive you home, to help you out...

• "you were right to ask me if he's like this with all of my friends", they say "because he isn't"

• he isn't like this with anybody

• expect with you

• "do you mind?", you ask

• your friend admits they aren't sure

• they want to be happy that their father seems to be slowly moving on but like, how weird is it to think he'd be fucking their best friend?

• at your loud protest they have to laugh but quickly grow serious again

• "I'd be glad if it's you he goes for", they say "and not some woman I don't know who will want to be my new mom. But that doesn't mean I'm fully on board with this."

• you understand; of course you do

• they explain that they want their dad to be happy

• and if he is happy with you then so be it

• they absolutely don't want to witness any displays of affection between him and you though

• you are only allowed to move in once they have a chance to move out

• you will most definitely not call yourself their step mom, not even as a joke

• they won't give you relationship advice and don't want to hear any stories whatsoever involving their dad (okay, maybe they'll make an exception for the funny ones)

• but under no circumstances will they tolerate you spending more time with their father than with them

• they were your friend first

• it's a promise you give easily and without second thought

• never would you want to trade them against anything or anyone, not even their father

• they visibly relax at that

• "yeah well you can go have him then but I'm not helping you", they say with a shooing hand motion

• as relatively easy, even if not very happy, you feel about your current situation, Luke isn't able to say the same

• already over a month has passed since you dissolved into tears in front of him and admitted to your crush

• here you were, presenting yourself on a pretty silver platter, basically throwing yourself at him

• and still he didn't do and hasn't done anything about it, made immobile by his past experiences and fears of the future

• as different, as gentle, as you are from his late wife, he's afraid

• he's a coward

• what if he looses his temper?

• what if the ugly parts she used to coax to the surface so easily show themselves when he's with you?

• would you ever be able to look at him the same again?

• no, you'd probably leave him and it'd be his fault

• and he'd have to watch you go; he knows he would

• he can't let himself grow as dangerously and unhealthily possessive as he used to be

• you deserve a better version of him, even in the end

• and, most importantly, what would his child say?

• he could never make them choose between him and you

• what if they'd loose their dear friend?

• how could he ever make up for it again when similar things already happened so many times?

• and yet, despite it all, there's another part of him, a part that's raging against every single one of his reasons

• it's screaming at him to take the opportunity

• to take you

• you asked for it

• you are here

• he just needs to reach out, what is he waiting for

• now more than ever he notices things he was blind to before

• how you look at him when he opens the door to greet you, when he enters a room, when he sits across from you at dinner or beside you in the car

• he notices your eyes growing bigger, the blush on your cheeks and how you unconsciously worry your lip when he speaks to you

• he should have kissed you senseless

• long and hard and ruthless

• oh how he would've liked to, how close he came...and then felt like he'd be taking advantage of you if he did

• you were so distraught, so helpless, it wouldn't have been right

• and now, stuck in his inner conflict, paralyzed, he's watching you float away and out of his grasp as he keeps trying to convince himself it's better that way

• you'll find someone else

• someone your age

• someone as innocent as you

• someone that will treat you well

• someone without desires as dirty as his

• he tries to imagine how a perfect partner for you would look like

• but every time he does, it's like he's being devoured alive by all consuming jealousy

• he has to ask at least, he realizes

• he has to ask if you'd still take him, want him, if he made a move now?

• even over a month later?

• it will be easier to move on then, to say goodbye, with a no for an answer

(to his immense surprise you'll prove him wrong and say yes, but he doesn't know that yet)

#luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x you #luke star wars #dilf luke #dilf luke skywalker #luke skywalker fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars #fanfic #star wars headcanons #luke headcanons #headcanons #star wars a new hope #star wars empire strikes back #star wars return of the jedi

[deleteddewewted]

What It’s Like To Love Phillip Graves Part 2

MDNI

W: NSFW, Slow burn, Angst, Fluff, Getting Together, Friends With Benefits to Lovers, Gn! Reader, Unhealthy Relationship, Soldier Reader

P1 , P3

He loved you.

He found out that he loved you the moment he saw you defend on of your fellow soldiers in the field.

You were brutal and precise.

You never left anyone behind and you always did what you could do to help.

You were a force that he wanted to keep around him.

Your hands were skilled with whatever they could grab at and it drove him up the wall seeing you use those hands on him.

You're hands were rough with him, they left marks on his body, they mapped him all over.

You didn't tear into him like you would with an enemies soldiers throat.

You were caressing him like he would break.

You mouth into his mouth that you wanted him.

"Come back to me, Phillip. Always make sure to come back to me." You might have said that in the heat of the moment.

He was inside you and actively biting at your skin.

He was thrusting into you with rigger and his hands gripped onto your hips like a life line.

He wanted to believe you.

And he did.

He fell hard and he never let those words go.

Every mission was a test to just how far he could push his luck just to come back to you.

When he started his PMC, he made sure to keep in mind just how much you loved the sensation of being part of a unit.

A family.

Now that he had you so close.

Now that he found himself in you bed again after years of absence, he knew he had to talk with you.

He spent weeks drafting letters, trying to find the correct words for what he wanted to tell you.

He settled with one that made the most sense to him. It detailed all of his feelings and thoughts.

He wanted you to know just how much he wanted you to be part of his life since his initial attempt to persuade you with higher pay didn't work.

His bribing, his letter alluding to offering up sex, anything that might have once interested you wasn't working and it was frustrating him.

You were a person of morals but goddamn was it frustrating to see just how moral you were while being the type to cut someones throat open.

You never responded to any of them so when he had the chance to see you again after his squad had been ambushed, he took it as his sign to pursue you.

You were sitting by most of his mens bedsides, taking care of them.

When you made it to his bed, you did the something.

You helped him redress is wounds, cleaned his hair, you even fed him when his hands started shaking from the adrenaline after waking up from a nightmare.

You held him while he cried about the deaths that slowly accrued.

Finally, he found himself in your bed again.

You were warm an enveloped him in it.

You made his bed inviting and welcoming, almost like he had never left it in the first place back when you guys had fucked for the first time.

You were as accommodating to him just like the first time.

You kissed him, fucked him, suffocated him with your care.

And when he woke up you were gone.

By the time he had managed to get out of bed, you were already sparring with his men.

After an extra week on base, they were in the clear to leave and regroup at HQ. Which meant that hitmen began to bitch about how they were going to miss their favorite Lieutenant.

"Hey, can I have a talk with you real quick Lt? Just need to clear some things with you, no biggie." You rolled your eyes at him as he made his way into your office and closed the door behind him.

He was tense, it was noticeable in the way his jaw clenched shut as he made his way up to you.

You were sitting on at your desk chair and watched him make his way towards you.

You spread your legs apart, awaiting to see what he would do.

Maybe one last fuck for the road before your paths would never cross again.

Maybe he wanted to try something new wit you because he knew he wouldn't have to face any shame or embarrassment since this was the last time you'd meet.

You ere going to be transferring to another base soon, this would be your parting gift from he ma you thought you knew.

"Just wanted to set the record straight with you before I left." He kneeled down on the floor in front of you and placed his head on your lap.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he relaxed into your body.

"This might be it. I don't know what the world has planned for me but I want to at least get some closure when it comes to you."

"And what could you possibly want or need from me, Graves." You werent upset or even disappointed with him. You were just as curious as he was to find out what he needed.

"Do you remember the first time we made love? You know how you told me how I should make sure to come back to you?"

"Very southern of you to call fucking "making love"." You teased back but he ignored you instead.

"I took what you said to heart. I wanted to come back to you. I needed too. And now that im here, again, and can see you. I want to have you."

"How cute of you. Wanting to own me." You said. He shook his head at you and tightened his hold.

"I want you, but not to own you, hun." It was a silent after he confessed.

There wasn't much to truly say, it was all in the open.

He wanted you and didn't want to let you go.

You loved him but you know that the lives you both led weren't destined for peace.

"Im leaving this base soon Phillip."

"I know."

You stayed there, defeated, until one of the shadows came knocking on your door asking if you knew where their boss had gone.

"I'll never forget you, hun." He kissed you on the cheek, his hand refusing to let of of your own.

"Make sure to come back to me Phillip. Maybe next time around, we can try something out." You kissed his knuckles and let him go.

Him and his company left and were out of sight by the time you left your office.

#phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #cod graves #graves x reader #cod #call of duty modern warfare ii #call of duty #mw2 #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare #modern warfare fanfiction #dd speaks #graves mw2 #phillip graves x you #phillip graves smut #phillip graves mw2

[luvhughes43]

valentine | quinn hughes x reader

suki waterhouse masterlist

part two

summary: y/n has always been in love with quinn hughes but he's never known it. Everything comes to a head when reader finds out Quinn has a girlfriend. y/n is looking back at their relationship and wishing she could be with quinn.

lyrics: “All i wanna ask is, somewhere down the line, won't you be my valentine” and “If only you could see me crying, then you’d understand my symptoms”

word count: 2.4k

You sat alone on the floor of your apartment, drinking cheap wine to drown out your sorrows. You knew that this was your fault, that if you had just said something to Quinn that he wouldn't be off with somebody else.

You had known from a young age that you had loved Quinn Hughes. You could feel it every time you were near him, the butterflies, and the delirious happiness. 

When you had first gotten accepted into UBC in vancouver, you thought it would be over for your friendship with Quinn. But then a year later he got drafted and was moving to van… and you swore you guys were just destined to be with each other. Which is why you decided to just love him from afar.

Posted 3 years ago

_quinnhughes

Liked by y/nuser, lhughes_06, and others

_quinnhughes: back at the lake🏊‍♂️💙

“I just don't want to feel used, y'know?” quinn had said one night while you, the guys, and some of their girlfriends were sitting around the campfire at the lakehouse. 

“dude you don't have to get committed to see someone” 

“Yeah well still” quinn had shrugged the guys dating related questions off. It made you feel guilty. Knowing that you loved him and he didn't want to feel taken advantage of. You thought that if he had known how you felt about him that he would feel like you were taking advantage of your guy's friendship. So you decided all those summers ago that you wouldn't tell him your feelings. You had thought that they would go away in time. They hadn't. 

“QUINNY!” You shrieked as he splashed you with the lake water. He rushed over to you in the water, placing his hands on your waist and lifting you up in the air. “I can't breathe!” you shrieked again tilting your head up to face the sky, laughing as he spun the two of you around. 

“Stop screaming!” he yelled as he laughed with you. A few seconds later his arms got tired and he lowered you back into the water. You two were so close, you could have counted his eyelashes if you wanted to.  “Quinn…” Your voice was breathy and you thought Quinn looked too serious for what was happening. He was looking down at your face hard, and you couldn't read his expression… his mouth was slightly parted. 

“QUINN! Y/N! DINNER!” Ellen Hughes yelled from the back porch. Quinn took a few steps backwards. You heard the sliding door close, but you didn't move to go to it. You were solely focused on Quinn and how he was looking at you just a minute ago. “y/n we should go” he whispered as he gestured towards the sliding door. “Yeah… I just…” you let your words fall, still looking up at Quinn curiously. 

He nodded his head quietly, and led the way back to your towels, and then inside. 

You took another swig of your wine. You let your eyes wander around the apartment and you couldn’t help but think of all the things you and Quinn had experienced together. Every little thing reminded you of him. From a wet towel laying on your floor, to a book on your shelf that he had let you borrow, you felt his presence everywhere.

Posted 2 years ago

y/nuser

Liked by _quinnhughes, bestiegirl, and others

y/nuser: i just can’t have enough of a good time🥂🌃

You were at a party in downtown vancouver. Elias had invited you to come out with him and the team, claiming that Quinn was feeling down about the team's recent string of losses. You dressed all up, thinking that maybe Quinn would maybe just ask you out already. 

When you got to the party, it was clear Quinn was no longer upset about the team's losses. He was chatting up a pretty blonde, and you felt your heart break a little. So you did the only thing that you knew would help, get a drink. You wandered around looking for the kitchen, and when you found it Elias was there chatting up a guy you’d never seen before. “y/n! You came!” he met you halfway into the kitchen, throwing an arm around your shoulders and dragging you back towards his friend. He introduced you, but you didn't feel like talking. 

Soon enough, Elias' friend disappeared and Elias turned to you with a frown on your face. “What's wrong?” he said simply with concern etched onto his face. 

“Nothing I can't deal with” you sighed out, walking over to the various bottles of alcohol on the counter. You grabbed a solo cup, and filled it with the first thing your hand touched. 

“Is this about Quinn?” Elias said as he looked at your full cup.

You hung your head low and took a quick swig of your drink, coughing as soon as the bitterness of the liquid hit your tongue. “I don't know what you’re talking about” 

“I know that you have… strong feelings for him,” he said leaning against the counter across from you. You took another swig. 

“He's talking to someone right now,” is what you managed to mumble out as you felt the lump in your throat tighten. 

“You need to tell him how you feel. It's not doing you any good" Elias spoke as he grabbed your wrist, lightly pulling your cup away from its resting place against your lips. “I'll tell him” and Elias knew you were lying as you brought the cup back to your lips.

“Im serious y/n this isn't healthy” he said sternly, causing you to roll your eyes and ignore the sudden sadness you were feeling. 

“Alcohol will help me build courage! Just give me a few minutes” you turned back to the counter, ignoring Elias' discouragements as you poured more liquor into your cup. 

After a lot more drinking, much to Elias disapproval, you found yourself back in the main area. You watched Quinn talk to someone, luckily it wasn't the girl from earlier, but a random guy. He must've sensed you were looking at him, because as soon as he caught your eye, he was dismissing whoever he was talking to and made his way towards you. 

“When did you get here? I didn't see you come in” you giggled at the way his eyebrows pinched together as he tried to figure out when you got here. 

“I was here the whollee time!” you giggled out, grabbing onto Quinn's arm as you stumbled a bit. He grabbed onto your waist to set you upright, and once again you found yourselves close to one another. “Quinny…” you whispered out, shutting your eyes.

“Shh it's okay i've got you,” he led you out and to the door, “do you have all of your stuff? I'm just gonna take you home” he said as he looked you up and down. 

“No Quinn, wait!” you insisted, pulling him to a stop outside. “I reallyyy have to tell you something” you shut your eyes once again remembering what Elias told you. 

Before you could say anything though, you felt the cool chill of the winter Vancouver weather, and it sobered you enough to realize what you were about to do. About to confess… you opened your eyes to find Quinn looking down at you. You hadn't even realized that he was holding onto your arm. “I don't…” you begin but he interrupted you with a gentle voice, “come on it's cold out, we can talk about this in the morning”. He tugged on your arm and you followed him into his car and back to your apartment. You never brought it up.

You got up off your bedroom floor, padding across the hardwood into your living room. You set your empty wine bottle on the floor and flopped onto the couch. Pulling a canucks blanket that was gifted to you by Quinn over your head. You snuggled up into it, hoping all the alcohol would make you forget everything you were feeling. 

Posted 1 year ago 

y/nuser

Liked by _quinnhughes, _eliaspettersson, and others

y/nuser: following the neon signs🌃

Tagged: _quinnhughes

Eventually, you got too hot with the alcohol in your system and the blanket twisted around you. You got up off the couch and slid your balcony door open. You walked out towards the edge, sitting right next to the glass fence. Leaning your head against the glass, you felt the chill in the air on your warm skin, taking you back. walking around downtown at night was a thing you and Quinn did often. It’s been awhile since you last went out.

You and Quinn were walking the streets of Vancouver late at night. “So then Vanessa went out with this guy right? And anyway she dragged me to this bar and-’ you stopped, realizing that quinn wasn't right beside you like he always was. You panicked for a second, before turning around “Quinny?” you called out in the dark. He was a few steps behind you.

“Uh yeah sorry, continue” he smiled softly as he caught up with you, both of you now standing side by side.

“What's wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing, you're just really pretty” you felt your face heat up as his words hit you. 

“You're not too bad yourself” you joked, shoving into him with your shoulder, playfully trying to ease the butterflies in your stomach. 

Quinn smiled at you before looking away. There was a few seconds pause before you started up your story again,

“And there was this guy who was trying to hit on me-” Quinn frowned. “And anyway, he had his drink in his hand right? and so Vnessa came over to me angry of course, because the guy she was trying to meet up with ended up ghosting her, so she knocked into the guy who was talking to me right?”, you looked over and Quinn promptly nodded so you looked back ahead of you, “well the guy spills his beer ALL over me! Like in my hair and-”

“Why are you friends with Vanessa? She's not really nice '' Quinn interrupted your story with a question. 

“Honestly, I don't really know. She was the first friend I met at uni so I dont know… i’d feel bad if I stopped being friends with her” you and Quinn walked in silence for a bit. 

“So the guy spilled beer in your hair and…?” Quinn prompted,

“Right, and anyway the whole thing was awful. I'm just not sure I'm destined to meet a guy you know?” you said, looking up at Quinn. “Like all my life I've been waiting for someone and it's just… never happened” He looked like he was thinking hard about what you had just said, brows furrowed and eyes strained. 

“I don't think you’re destined to be alone” he whispered and it made you stop in your tracks, turning over to look at him. 

“What do you mean by that?” you asked softly, hoping he would just ask you out already. You thought that you sensed it was about to happen, with the way he was looking at you… and the way in which he called you pretty only a few minutes ago. 

Quinn shook his head instead, “I just meant that you shouldn't worry about ending up alone”.

You deflated. “I just wish I’d get with the perfect person soon” 

“I could set you up with someone?” Quinn asked, and you felt that familiar lump in your throat. He didn't like you back.

“No i'm fine” you pathetically tried to laugh it off but the energy wasn't the same anymore. The walk back to your apartment was excruciating. 

6 months ago

jackhughes

Liked by trevorzegras, lhughes_06, and others

jackhughes: the boys + girl are back

tagged: trevorzegras, lhughes_06, y/nuser, _quinnhughes, and others

The boys had a small break, so you all met up in New Jersey to hang out with Jack and the Hughes brothers. You were always close with them, having basically grown up with them, so it was no surprise to anyone when you also booked a plane ticket for the trip.

The boys had wanted to go out clubbing in NYC, so of course you went too. You had ulterior motives to spend more time with Quinn. After what happened on one of your walks, things feft more… awkward. There was tension in the air whenever the two of you were together, and as a result you were spending much less time with each other. 

As soon as you got to the bar you ditched the boys to wait in line for a drink. It was a Saturday, so the line was long. You didn't get back to where the boys were partying until about 15 minutes later. 

When you reached their area, Quinn had a blonde practically tucked into his side. He had never been so forward before, but you didn't know that for sure. You hadn't gone out with him in a while. 

“y/nnnie look at Quinner, he's finally taking our advice and talking to a girl! Isn't this great!” Trevor Zegras shouted into your ear so you could hear him above the music. You frowned. “....orrr not!” Trevor said upon seeing your reaction, he left your side to wallow. 

You watched from the table as Quinn chatted up the blonde all night. Your friends tried to pull you into their conversations but you weren't interested. 

Eventually Quinn caught your eye, he gave you a half smile, shrugging his shoulders in a ‘what can you do’ gesture, before turning his attention back to the blonde who was now stroking his left arm.

You left the bar early that night.

3 days ago

You shut your phone immediately upon seeing the threads and tweets speculating that Quinn was seeing someone. Your heart ached, and you took the day off to lay in bed and cry. Wondering that if Quinn saw your sadness, and symptoms of liking him, if that would change anything at all.

You walked back inside your apartment. Shutting the sliding door tight behind you. You couldn't stop thinking about Quinn and your guy's relationship. You knew being friends with him would never be enough for you. You needed and wanted more, and he didnt know how you felt at all.

_quinnhughes just posted !

Liked by jackhughes, trevorzegras, and others

_quinnhughes: ♥️♥️

“All i wanna ask is, somewhere down the line, won't you be my valentine”

#suki waterhouse fic list #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #jack hughes x reader #trevor zegras x reader #luke hughes x reader #elias pettersson x reader

[boltupbitches]

Never Really Over Part I - Nick Bosa

Song: Never Really Over by Katy Perry

Two years, and just like that, my head still takes me back

Thought it was done, but I guess it's never really over

Oh, we were such a mess, but wasn't it the best?

Thought it was done, but I guess it's never really over

I was speed walking to my car while praying to God that I didn't catch one of my heels in a pothole on the way. It was raining and I could feel my hair sticking to my face as I focused on finding my car, my hands digging in my purse for my keys. All the while, I was swearing loudly at the fact that I thought coming to this fucking Ohio State luncheon for athletes was a good idea. I played women's soccer during my time here, and I was excited to be here tonight.

I wasn't expecting to see him here. Mr. First Round #2 Draft Pick.. Nick Bosa.

We were a couple for two years while he was at Ohio State.. until he told me the week before draft night that he didn't want to be in a long distance relationship while I stayed here to finish my degree.

I cried like a bitch that day, my heart completely shattered. The day before he took me out to lunch and spent the day watching tv with me, us discussing how exciting our futures would be. I didn't realize I wasn't part of his equation. We made love that night and the next morning he got ready to head out, and before leaving, he broke it off with me.

I can remember standing there in shock as he kissed me on the cheek and quickly left, the door slamming shut after him.

I wasn't sure how long I stood there, before moving onto the couch and breaking down.

I blocked him immediately on everything I could. I didn't want to see him ever again.

Sam reached out to see how I was doing when he heard the news, but he was sympathetic to Nick because "he was crying about it" when he told him. I knew Sam was more loyal to Nick because they were friends first and bros, so I down played my emotions a bit and then avoided speaking to Sam as much as possible. Slowly his calls, texts, and DMs stopped coming through and I was relieved. I distanced myself from our shared circle. Sticking with my teammates and a few other friends I made in the History program.

I focused on finishing my degree and graduating. Fast forward two years and I was working in Santa Clara, California as a paralegal while doing law school part time. I did my best to avoid anything Nick and finally, after two years, I had moved on and found happiness. Or at least I thought I had.

I was mingling with two of my former teammates when he approached me from my peripheral. Clara cleared her throat nervously and discretely nodded in his direction. The second I turned towards him, my breath caught in my throat and I could feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest. I wanted to cry as the emotions seem to pour back out. Anger, hurt, sadness, love, and begrudgingly enough, happiness. I couldn't figure the last one out. Everything was mixing together in a rapid fire within my heart.

He was wearing a grey suit with a red tie, similar to his draft suit. It was fitted well, and he looked as good as ever. His eyes squinting as a big smile overtook his face. He looked relieved to see me as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck - his signature nervous tick.

I was a coward. The sight of him made me bolt through the crowded hall and out the nearest exit and into the rain.

That's why I'm here now like this.

Power walking to my car in a Versace mini dress and heels, soaked to the bone from the shitty Ohio weather.

"Nadia! Wait, please!" I heard heavy feet across the wet concrete as he closed distance between us. "I just want to talk for a minute."

I was enraged and turned around with my finger pointed in his face. "Talk? You want to fucking talk? After all the shit you pulled?! Fuck you! How about that for a fucking talk, dickhead?!"

I turned and started to walk away again, but he gently grabbed my arm, pulling me back to him. I lost my balance and fell against him, twisting my ankle. "Fuck!"

"Shit, shit!" I felt him pull me upwards and swoop me into his arms. I'm sure we looked pretty ridiculous. a 6'4" man carrying a hysterical woman in a mini dress. "Shit, Nadia, I'm so fucking sorry!"

"Just please take me to my car and leave me alone." I whimpered. I was sure my ankle was twisted and would bruise a bit for sure.

Nick walked in the direction towards my car and opened the door. Slowly and gently he helped me into the passenger side before quickly rounding the car and getting in the driver's side.

"What are you doing? Get out of my car!"

Nick stared ahead, not saying anything at first, and then he turned towards me. "We need to talk - afterwards, if you don't want to hear anything else. I'll leave you alone and never bother you again, but I have been trying so hard these past two years to reach out to you! You blocked me on everything, you ghosted Sam, and your teammates threatened to castrate me if I even attempted to visit you on campus during practice. I fucked up - I know I can't erase that, but I just want to say I'm so sorry for what I did. I was a coward who was scared that it wouldn't work out and you'd leave me." He ran his hands through his hair and stared forward again.

I said nothing, looking down at my lap, trying to ignore my hurting ankle. After a bit of silence I reached over and turned the car on since it was chilly from the rain and the car was fogging up a bit. The heat blasted and the radio turned on.

And just like a fucking movie, that fucking song started playing me. The one that made me cry every time I heard it after our break up.

"Two years, and just like that, my head still takes me back Thought it was done, but I guess it's never really over Oh, we were such a mess, but wasn't it the best? Thought it was done, but I guess it's never really over"

I could feel myself starting to cry when the hook played and Nick looked over in alarm, not sure of what to do.

"This stupid fucking song! This played on my playlist right after you walked out the door. You ruined this song for me!" I started to laugh while crying, seeing the humor in the situation.

Nick reached out his to mine and gripped it tightly as I sniffled and listened to the song. He was listening too.

I could see him shift slightly and bite his lip as he took in the lyrics. I could see him fighting a smile as well.

"Well shit.. yeah talk about timing." He said flatly.

For some reason that was also funny to me and I started laughing as the song built towards its final hook and this time Nick joined in with his own laughter.

"I guess it's never really over, then?" He asked quietly and I stopped laughing to stare at him.

His eyes were sad, but imploring.

I hated myself for falling into his eyes. They were a beautiful rich brown color. I hated that a part of me wanted to jump across the seat and kiss him, but I need more restraint than that.

"Well.. I think we have a lot to address and fix first. Let's start as building our friendship again? I'll give you my new number. I live in Santa Clara, so we can maybe meet up the next time you're back in the area?"

"Wait - you're in Santa Clara? Since when?" Nick looked happy at the news.

"Since last year. I work as a paralegal at a law firm who are helping me pay for my law classes part time."

"So we've been this close all this time?"

"I guess so.. It's a big area and I was sure I could avoid you easily. At least better than I would have if you stayed in Columbus.."

"Ouch.. I deserved that."

"Yeah, you did, but.. I'm really fucking heartbroken and seeing you here tonight brought that all back.. I wouldn't have come if I had known you were here. I thought I was over it. I've been doing so well and even casually dated for a bit without comparing them to you.. and seeing you here tonight.. my head takes me back to happier times and the end of it.. I can't promise anything, Nick." I said quietly.

He looked down at his lap and nodded quietly. "I'll take whatever I can get, Nadia. I mean it."

"Please don't make me regret this, Nick." I said quietly.

"I won't - I promise." He said firmly, squeezing my hand he was still holding on to.

We sat here a few more minutes, listening to Frank Ocean's Chanel before I said to him humorously. "Well, I guess Katy Perry is right. I guess it's never really over."

He just grinned back in return, his eyes shining brightly and full of happiness.

'Please don't break my heart again. I don't want to get over you again.' I thought to myself.

#nick bosa #nick bosa imagines #nick bosa imagine #nick bosa fanfiction #nick bosa fanfic #nick bosa one shot

[topsyturvy-turtely]

SNEAK PEEK at chapter two of MISSING!

A/N: happy birthday @safedistancefrombeingsmart!! 🥳🥳🥳 originally wanted to finish chapter 2 of missing (which is based on smartin''s edit) for you but life is too busy for me lately. however i wanted to prove i am actually (kinda) working on chapter 2 surprise you a tiny bit so here is the shortened version of the beginning of chapter two!! i hope you enjoy it. guess i'm kinda glad to know you 😜😘 hope you are having a wonderful day!

please keep in mind, that this is a draft! "[…]" signals that this is a part that i am not yet publishing. the word document got about 2100w so, i am really not that bad at writing ch2! (if we ignore that i didn't even get to the important part yet…)

WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER ONE! read first chapter on ao3!

~~~

Even before Sherlock had left the hospital building, he called Lestrade. He started talking before Lestrade could start an unnecessary greeting phrase, “Tell me every little detail you know about this case. And I mean everything.”

“Sherlock?!”, Greg asked. “Where the heck are you?! One minute you were here looking at the-“

“Charing Cross Hospital. John is hurt. Badly. In fact, he is-“, Sherlock’s breath caught in his throat.

He exhaled, seeing John unconsciously laying in the hospital bed, the bloody arm- arm stump. It wasn’t the blood that bothered him so much. It was the bones, the veins, the tendons - everything that was supposed to be attached to John’s hand for god’s sake – that made him feel sick, angry, and terrified. What if John was never gonna have his hand back? Never be able to cook, read, tie his shoes again? Sherlock knew for a fact it would make John miserable, absolutely heartbreakingly miser-

He had to focus. Find the hand. To find the hand, he had to know more about the case. He finally finished his sentence. “John is missing a hand. The doctor said she can reattach it, but it has to be quick. Give me everything you know. I am not going into details.”

“Shit, Sherlock. That is horrible- holy shit. Are you sure you are okay searching-”

“Greg.”, the consulting detective’s voice was sharp, intolerant. He could not lose any more time. “This is not the time for compassion towards me. This is about John. Finding his hand is my first and foremost priority. Tell me everything about this case. Now.”

Lestrade finally seemed to overcome his temporary attack of compassion and started to lay out the case to Sherlock.

[…]

"That’s it! That’s their connection!”, Sherlock concluded after their conversation.

“You- That’s true. Thank you, Sherlo-“

The consulting detective hung up on him. He raised a hand to call a cab. He got one immediately. “Just over Hammersmith Bridge. Drive fast, I’ll double the fare.”

"In a hurry, mate?”

Sherlock glared at the cabbie through the rearview mirror. The cabbie’s smirk left his mouth, because he hurriedly shifted into first gear and drove away. He was fast but not as fast as Sherlock would have liked. Sherlock paid with a generous amount anyways. Thames Path, secluded somewhere between the trees. That’s where John was found. The nurse had given him coordinates and with his phone Sherlock found the place pretty quickly.

Branches were snapped, dirt was posched up, a pool of blood was in the middle of a clearing. Sherlock got close, knelt down, tried to find more clues.

Then he heard shouting, he looked up but his vision was blocked by darkness, a heavy smell stung his nose and then Sherlock hit the ground with his back.

~~~

A/N: i hope you don't mind me tagging a few more people? and i hope the people don't mind either xD it's just that most comments on ao3 were like "OMG CONTINUE ASAP!" so i thought... that would maybe nice of me to tag other people? even though i did yet another cliffhanger with this teaser... whoops.

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed please 💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @catlock-holmes @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @raenchaosandcozyadashofmurder @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr @compact-and-beautiful

#happy birthday smartin'! #lov- kinda think you're okay ig #;P #ARE YOU PROUD OF ME?! #BECAUSE I DIDNT FORGET YOUR BECOMING OLD DAY?! #I FORGET ALMOST EVERYONE's BDAY #I EVEN MADE YOU A THING #YOU BETTER APPRECIATE THE WEIRD TURTLE IN YOUR LIFE #turtely writes #missing #johnlock fic #sherlock fic #bbc sherlock #johnlock #sherlock #john watson #sherlock holmes #whump!john #john watson whump #whump #what to tag #dunno #stopping now #feeling exhausted #stupid cold feels like i have a rock instead of an heart #*a #(wasn't i gonna stop with tags?!)

[ivy-plays]

We'll be alright part 2

Summary: you've been married to Owen Grady as well as training a pack of velocsrapters at the New Jurassic World for two years now. So what happens when the two of you are asked to check on the paddock for a new dinosaur only for things to go sideways and send the entire park into chaos?

Series: jerassic world

Pairing: Owen Grady x reader

Warnings: blood, death, cursing. As usual if I missed anything let me know in the comments.

Raiting: pg13

<previous - ch.1

A cool breeze drafted throughout our small bungalow on the other side of the island from the park. I hummed quietly to myself as I chopped up some potatoes for our dinner ,every now and again looking up and out the kitchen window at Owen who was outside working on his bike. I smirked to myself as I watched how his muscles flexed as he tightened a bolt on the tires.

The next time I looked up it was because I heard the sound of tiers grinding against our gravel driveway. A white Mercedes Benz had come to a stop just in front of our house."what does she want?' I think to myself as I put down my knife and wipe my hands off on a towel before heading outside., to see what Claire could possibly want that couldn't wait until tomorrow.

" What do they want now" Owen says with an exasperated sigh as he wipes the oil from his hands and I come to a stop beside him.

"no clue. I just want to know what's so damn important it couldn't wait until tomorrow" I say as I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. I watch as Claire walks up to the two of us and is trying not to trip in her heels which I have to hold back a laugh from.

"Mr. Grady" the red head says as she comes to a stop in front of us and I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes at the fact she only addressed Owen. Claire never could get over the fact that Owen dumped her and got with me instead. We were friends before from the navy, and eventually feelings grew and here we are today almost two years later.

"it's nice to see you too Claire" I say with a fake smile and Clair cuts her eyes to look at me

" Mrs. Grady. " She said stiffly before looking back at Owen " I need you to come take a look at something."

"why are you calling us Mr. And Mrs. Brady?" Owen asks as he leans back against me and I rest my arms on his shoulders.

"Owen" the red head says" if you're not too busy-"

"we're pretty busy" I cut her off coldly which earned me an amused smile from Owen.

"we have an attraction" Claire continued completely ignoring me

" that's not what you said the last time I saw you " Owen says being the one to cut her off this time.

"I'm talking about the dinosaurs Mr. Grady" she continues with an irritated tone .

"Owen" Owen corrects with a sigh. He was no happier about seeing Claire than I was. Her holier than thow attitude really grates on my nerves.

" A new species we made,"

" you just went and made a new dinosaur?" I say with a raised brow as I was blown away by her nonchalant tone when she said they just up and made a new breed of dinosaur.

"yes that's kind of what we do here" Claire says with matter of fact tone and a fake smile as she rebuts what I asked. She once more turned to look back at Owen.

' This bitch' I think to myself," who does she think she is just ignoring me and talking to my husband like I'm not even here?"

"The exhibit opens to the public in three weeks . Mr. Masrani wanted me to consult with you." She explained as she swatted some nats away from her .

" Do you want to consult here or in our bungalow? " I say with a smirk as I wave a hand to our home.

"that's not funny"

"it's a little funny" Owen interjects with a smile.

"we'd like you to evaluate the padlock for vulnerabilities" Claire stated with a clear tone of irritation sleeping into her attitude.

"why us?" Owen asks as he goes back to working on his bike completely uninterested in this conversation.

Claire lets out a sigh," I guess Mr. Masrani thinks since you're able to control the raptors " Claire began to explain before once more getting cut off by Owen . " It's a relationship. It's built on mutual respect. That's why you and I never had a second date." My husband says as he wipes his hands off with the rag he had in his back pocket before walking the bike to sit closer to the bungalow under the awning.

" I'm going to go inside and finish up dinner. So don't be too much longer dear. " I whisper to Owen as I place a quick kiss on his chapped lips before going inside.

It wasn't long after I came inside that I heard the front door open and close. " That was quick. So has Claire left?" I called out to my husband who had walked straight to our bedroom upon coming inside. It was silent for a moment until his voice called back

" no. She's insistent that I go look at this padlock. Well we but she would prefer only Me" he says as he walks up to me while he's finishing pulling on a new and clean shirt.

" Dinner is gonna have to wait baby. I'm sorry but I promise as soon as we get back we're doing nothing but eating our dinner together and cuddling while watching some shity new movie on Netflix. " Owen says as he gently cups my face in his warm and calloused hands. I let out a sigh but leaned into his touch.

" well then let's make this quick. "

An: I finally wrote another chapter of this story!! I'm getting back into the movies and subsequently owen as well. So sorry for such a long wait. I honestly forgot about the series until someone messaged me asking me to write more for this story lol.

Next>

Tag list:@kaykinotic ,@rubyxx16

#x reader #fanfics #owen grady x reader #owen grady #jurassic world #jurassic park #claire dearing #jhon Hammond #blue #dinosaur

[sinnaea]

"Lesson Learned" part 2?

First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who read my latest Wesker/Reader fic on AO3 and left very wonderful comments. It really does mean the world to me that it was enjoyed by so many of you, so thank you! I've even received some DMs regarding the ending and the possibility of a part 2. And after much thought, I've decided yes!

The fic was always intended to be a one-shot and this original blog post was actually an explanation why I wanted to keep it that way while also sharing ideas IF the story were to continue. Ideas started flowing and I eventually just wrote an outline for the continuation.

So, here is the first page draft of "Lesson Learned: Further Testing." (If you haven't read the original fic, the link is provided below. Otherwise, keep reading and enjoy.)

Lesson Learned: Further Testing

The warmth of the sun’s rays breaking through the heavy curtains woke you from your slumber. Your eyes felt weighty and you couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t rise to an alarm clock. But you did remember where you laid; Master Wesker’s bed. Your heart started to thump as you silently inhaled, excited to greet him. Mindful of your master’s presence, you carefully outstretched your limbs and turned to face him. However, the space next to you was empty.

You sat up quick and your eyes scanned the bedchamber. The fireplace was lightly crackling meaning it had been lit not too long ago. And, to your surprise, the floor was clear of the porcelain pieces of the shattered vase and your torn clothes from the night before. The room had been tidied. Worried the master might have cleaned the room himself, you hopped off the bed and began to make the sheets before he would return.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom opened. You quickly turned toward the sound and found Master Wesker standing in the doorway. He looked relaxed and content as he stood in his black lounge pants and with a single hand towel draped over his shoulder. Steam and the smell of body wash emanated from the bathroom. It was refreshing.

Tense yet happy to see your master, you slightly bowed to him. “Good morning, Master,” you greeted with blushing cheeks.

He approached you with a smile. He placed a gentle finger underneath your chin and tilted your head up to him. “Good morning, dearheart,” he said soothingly. “How do you feel? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Hurt. The lesson he had given you the night before did make your body feel sore as you began to notice. But, to be completely honest with yourself, you never felt better just to be given the privilege.

“Let me check you,” Wesker said. He gently turned you around and placed a hand on your back, prompting you to bend over slightly. He lifted the bottom of the button-up shirt you were wearing over your bare rear and examined. “My poor dear,” he said and lightly swiped his hand over your welts. “Come.”

The master led you to the bathroom where you found the tub filled with inviting steaming water. He pulled the shirt down and off your body, held your hand as you shyly stepped into the soothing warmth. His large hands ran all over your skin, washing you. Caressing you. Making sure you were clean and well taken care of.

He was making you hot all over again. It wasn’t just the water. A small moan escaped your lungs and you held back the urge to kiss him. Wesker chuckled softly at your reactions and finally planted a light kiss on your temple. And you just melted.

Clothes were even picked out for you by the master. He buttoned you up in a white dress shirt and tucked it snugly into a black skirt. Making you look sleek and perfect to his liking. In return, as Wesker dressed himself, you helped him with his tie. His usual blue icicles were soft and kind as he carefully observed you. His gaze no longer felt heavy upon you and you were certain he saw you as something more.

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