#don't mind me relaying my thoughts as i was doing this

[silkjade]

alhaitham x mermaid! reader (3.5)

⤀ cw: afab!reader, first time (w. him), lots of teasing, cunnilingus, praise, fingering, unprotected sex, lil bit of size kink + overstim, creampie, fluff???, true love but they don't know it yet — mdni || ꒰ 6.2k wc ꒱ a/n: recommended to read the previous part first, but it can stand alone as well ! hope u enjoy my smut debut + reblogs & feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡ next ﾉ series masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓇼

When you had taken him up on his half conscious, pseudo challenge to visit Sumeru City, Alhaitham never imagined you’d cause him so much trouble. It’s not in the sense that you’d drawn too much unwanted attention, or that you’d spent his mora on frivolous things. No, it was your lack of understanding for the human notions of shame and intimacy. 

He’s never entirely sure of just how nuanced the unabashed things you say and do are. You’re shameless whenever you’d ask him for compliments point-blank, or when you’d waltz out of the bathroom only half-dressed in his clothes. Other times, you’d surprise him with words so naively honest, brush against him in ways that feel far too tender.

To his dismay, it’s becoming increasingly clear that your actions always come with a price—one that he pays, not with mora, but with his dignity. Much like the smooth caress of the waters you came from, it’s all seemingly harmless, but the depths of your intentions remain aggravatingly unknown. Especially when your very presence is enough to enfold all his senses in a lull of desire.

He runs a hand through his hair before turning the knob of his bedroom door, only to find you in your human form, lounging on his bed, lazily flipping through one of his books. The robe you wear is one of his; too large on your frame, with the silky material falling off your shoulders, dangerously close to revealing too much. 

Not that it isn’t a welcome sight—he is a man after all. And while he prides himself on his exceptional self control, it becomes an issue when he feels himself grow hot and the loose clothes he likes to wear at home begins to feel too tight. He can’t rub one out while you’re here, so perhaps a cold shower might ease his condition…

But you’re more perceptive than he’s given you credit for.

“It’s not as magnificent as my tail, but this body is still quite impressive isn’t it?” 

“I’ve never met anyone as shameless as you.”

…

“Well, I don’t think you’ve ever met anyone like me at all.” You flash him an amused smile, but the sultry look in your eyes relay a different message entirely. He can’t lie, it excites him.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he mumbles under his breath. To his chagrin, your curious hum cuts through the room and he hears the heavy thud of a book slammed shut.

Of course you heard him. With renewed interest, you swing your legs over the edge of his bed, sauntering over until you’re close enough that he can smell the faint scent of his mint shampoo in your hair. 

“Oh? What could I possibly be doing to you?” Your fingers walk up his body, slowly, from his toned stomach to his chiseled chest, leaving his skin hot through the fabric of his clothes, “Won’t you enlighten me?” 

You look up, that wide-eyed gaze of feigned innocence flickering into something sharp and dangerously seductive. A hand settles on his shoulder, pulling him in until you’re close enough that your lips are only a hair’s breadth away from his sensitive ears. The other reaches down and ghosts against his obviously growing bulge, before pressing down, palming him through his pants. Alhaitham bites back a groan. 

“Or rather, what would you like to do to me?” Your voice rings low and smooth as silk to his ears. It leaves a wave of desire to bubble in the pit of his stomach, one that doubles down on the dull ache at his crotch.

His mind sifts through a thousand thoughts. Lascivious thoughts, sinful, perverted thoughts that only seem to make their presence known when in your company. Just one glance down at you and he can see how ridiculously easy it would be to untie the lazy knot that’s hardly holding your—no—his robe together. 

“I…” 

It’s hard to think when you overwhelm all his senses, poking at the urges he has so carefully suppressed up until now. His robe, his scent. He’s no fool to the way Sumeru City ogles at you—the mysterious stranger who’s able to so casually hang onto the aloof scribe’s arm. It only makes him want to stake his claim across the empty canvas of your skin as well: his mermaid. Perhaps just this once, he’ll let himself indulge in his own selfish desires. 

“Come on, Scribe Alhaitham,” you emphasize,“use your words.” 

A smug smile forms on your face as you calculate the risks of your next words. 

“Although…if you’ve got nothing to say, why don’t you just show me,” you press close, voice deceptively soft. “I’m more of a hands-on learner anyway.”

For once, Alhaitham lets his body override all sense of rationality, flipping your positions, and pinning you against the wall as he captures your mouth in his. It’s uncharacteristically sloppy and haphazard, with none of the craftiness he displayed on that first and only night you kissed, but it’s intoxicating all the same.

His teeth graze against your bottom lip, demanding entrance, and you’re forced to grasp onto his toned bicep to keep yourself steady as you devour each other with the intensity of all your repressed thoughts. With every second his mouth remains slotted on yours, with every inhale and exhale of breath you exchange, you think that this time, you’re the one who might drown.

He finally tosses you a lifeline once he decides to leave the vicinity of your mouth, and begin his campaign across the rest of your body, starting with the little spot right along the underside of your jaw. Alhaitham takes his time trailing down your neck, catching you off guard when he stops to suck down, hard, on a particularly sensitive patch of skin.

An involuntary gasp escapes, and you can feel him smirk against you, though it quickly fades into a half strangled groan when your hips roll into his. He only continues downward from here, carving kisses into your body and leaving behind colorful little bruises that send liquid fire running through your veins. The further he goes, the more he must uncover, and the only thing standing in his way is the robe you’re hardly wearing.

“Can I…?” he asks in a hoarse whisper, fingers already toying with the sash. 

“Not like you haven’t seen everything already,” you mutter, pulling his face in to kiss him again. 

His free hand snakes down to squeeze your ass while the other tugs on the loose knot, the silky material now free to tumble down your body like a waterfall, hitting every curve along the way. In one fell swoop, Alhaitham takes you to his bed, picking up right where he left off: with a depraved kiss that speaks more than he ever could in relaying the underlying lust that clouds his mind.

“Beautiful.” The word slips out without a second thought. It’s the first time he's ever said it outright. Beneath the fervor, there’s a special sentiment that cushions his tone. It has you buzzing with warmth from the inside out, but whether it’s contentment or embarrassment, you don’t know. Biting your lip, you turn your head to the side, refusing to meet his gaze. 

He finds it infinitely amusing that for all your openly brazen flirtations…

“You’re not getting shy on me now, are you?” 

You respond by stubbornly grappling at the edge of his shirt, nails grazing against his muscled abdomen in the process. The startling sensation crackles through his nerves, sending his cockhead twitching in delight. 

“It’s only fair I get to see you too,” you mumble, in what little time you have between kisses. Alhaitham pulls away, a brow quirked in mild amusement. Pausing, he takes this chance to drink in the sight of your naked figure for the second time, though tonight there’s no need to look away. 

It’s exhilaratingly surreal to see your body marked by the undeniable testaments of his touch. It manifests on your skin, where you’re decorated with clusters of little bruises signed by his lips. In your chest, as it heaves for air after all the breaths he’s stolen from right out of your lungs. It persists in the way your eyes draw him in, inviting him, daring him to do more. In how your lips, though slightly swollen, wear the same coquettish grin that’s enchanted him time and again. With no other choice but to surrender to your demands, Alhaitham lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side without a care.

You’ve always thought the man to be handsome, but you’re left wonderstruck as your eyes wander across his bare skin. It’s not like his usual attire leaves much to the imagination, but Alhaitham undressed, is still a sight to see. His toned chest and sculpted stomach, well defined arms… Chiseled by the gods themselves, you think as the corner of your lips quirk just the slightest bit upwards. 

“Enjoying the view?” It’s funny how much his smug smile contrasts with the mottled pink that colors his shoulders and dusts across his cheeks. His skin only flushes more when you trace a finger over the gem on his chest, tantalizingly slow as you make your way down his sternum, and only stopping to lightly flick at one of his nipples. Alhaitham’s breath hitches and you can practically see his muscles as they tense.  

 “Very much,” you answer, hands sinking lower. “So won’t you show me more?”

He catches you by your wrist when he feels you tugging at his waistband, and it takes everything for him to ignore the wanton desperation that’s quickly clouding his mind. It’s difficult, but out of sheer will, he manages to hold back, if only by a thread. 

Gently, he pulls your chin up to face him. Want hides beneath his teal gaze, but there’s a softness that truly shines through, encapsulating the delicate balance between risk and reward.

His hands shift to caress your cheek, before he moves in to steal another kiss. This time it’s sweeter, more chaste. Alhaitham kisses you slow and passionate, interwoven with a tenderness that causes your heart to swell in your chest.

“You sure you want to do this?”

Your resounding ‘yes’ breathes a renewed ardor into his actions as he lowers you onto your back. Little by little, he makes his way down your body, leaving wet kisses everywhere except where you want him most. A kiss here, a lick there—the heat that pools in your belly only grows by the second, but a harsh suck right below your hip causes your breath to hitch and your cunt to drool more in response while you whine and attempt to rub your legs together for any sort of friction.

They are, however, aptly spread back apart when he hooks his arms beneath your thighs and pulls you closer to where he kneels at the edge of the bed. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, “and we’ve only just begun.” Alhaitham lets out a low chuckle as he presses another kiss to your inner thigh. It’s enough to have you shivering in anticipation, the reverberating tremors of his deep voice going straight to your pulsing hole, wet with the slick of your arousal. One of his hands moves to hold you down as you jolt when his teeth graze against the delicate skin.

“Will you please just hurry up,” you’re barely able to get all your words out before your voice breaks into a breathless gasp as he takes you by surprise, dipping his head down to lick a long stripe up your glistening folds and flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue once he reaches the top. 

Talented in more ways than just words, you find out firsthand exactly how good he is with his tongue. Like a man starved, he laps up all you have to give, while your gushing hole happily churns out more slick. But it isn’t nearly enough. Especially not with the way you’re grinding into his face and singing praises to his name.  

Alhaitham doesn’t consider himself an arrogant man, but he’s never loved hearing the sound of his own name more. It falls through your lips in a trail of whimpers, your pretty little cries music to his ears, delicate and lyrical. His tongue prods at your entrance, occasionally dipping into your warmth, and as he closes in, his nose bumps against your puffy clit. It has you keening, and your hands come flying to tangle in his ashen hair as your voice splits into a sharp gasp. 

He takes a mental note of your reaction before moving to suckle on the sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing out another beautifully broken sob. With every exhale, and every swipe of his tongue, Alhaitham breathes life into your cunt—leaving it to drip with arousal and clench around nothing. Your fingers curl in his tresses and you tug hard. The low groan he emits reverberates through your body; the rumbling vibrations of his own pleasure sends you crawling to your high. 

But he soon pulls away and you’re quick to let out a pitched cry in protest. He peers up from between your parted thighs, sharp eyes hungrily taking in the sight of you squirming at the loss of contact. 

“Haitham,” you whine pitifully, hips blindly stuttering in search of his touch, “don’t stop.” 

Oh how the tables have turned. Before him, your tiny hole clamps around nothing and a sly grin creeps onto his face, devilishly handsome and glistening with your essence that so freely drips down his chin. You’ve teased him relentlessly during the span of your partnership, and as per your logic, it’s only fair he gets to do the same.

“Beg for it,” he purrs. His warm breath fans across your folds, sending you into a frenzied fluster from the bottom up, and you feel as if you’re going to melt.

“P-please…” It’s difficult to come up with any words, much less the right words, to say when the overwhelmingly wanton desire for him to just touch you again, has your brain enveloped in a thick haze. “Need you…Haitham please…”

His name, entangled within the sweet pleas that fall from your lips, has his cock twitching again, eager to be freed from the constraints of his pants. But if he can ignore the wet spot forming from his own precum, then he can do the same to the way his hips seem to move on their own, slowly rutting against the bed. He’s a patient man, he can wait. You on the other hand… 

You’re so needy for him, so lost trying to chase your own pleasure, that it doesn’t even register when he wets two fingers in his mouth, unable to process anything until you feel the faint stretch in your cunt that has you trembling in anticipation. His fingers slide easily into your creamy insides, and he only watches in amusement at the way your hips buck, silently begging him for something more than the painfully slow, lazy way he’s pumping in and out of you. 

“You’re already so tight...” He lets out a breathy chuckle as he scissors you open, resisting the way your velvety walls come down, hugging every inch of the digits inside you. “How are you even going to take me, hm?” 

You open your mouth to respond but nothing ever comes out, save for the faint breath of a moan that manages to escape. If you were in the right state of mind, you would’ve been sure to fire back something smart, however, your thoughts have been reduced to fixate on Alhaitham, who’s rather keen on keeping it that way.

He moves his wrist, twisting and turning, relentlessly searching until the pads of his fingers press against a spot just right, that it has your toes curling and back arching off the bed in a loud cry. He curls his fingers, bullying the spongy spot until echoes of your melodic mewls are undeniably present amongst the lewd squelching of your wetness. It sends him reeling and growing impossibly harder—oh how he so adores the way you unravel before him. 

Your body runs hotter than ever and you feel the coil in your belly tighten, ready to snap. You’re going to cum. You’re so close. Just a little more. It repeats like a mantra in your head, but your impending climax dissipates as he draws both fingers back out, leaving you dangling at the precipice with a distressed wail, frustration pathetically painted across your face.

Why did he just do that? Your eyes are large and laced with tears that quiver and threaten to spill down your face. Ignoring your futile attempt at garnering pity, Alhaitham only continues to taunt you.

“Will you look at that?” he says, toying with the messy slick that glosses over his middle and index fingers like webbing, stretching and breaking along to the movements of his hand. It’s such damning evidence of how much you need him, but it’s also somehow mesmerizing, so much so that you’re unable to look away. It doesn’t help that your sopping cunt only weeps more at the sight, absentmindedly fluttering around nothing.

He drags you out of your thoughts as he unexpectedly takes your clit back into his mouth. His hot tongue swirls around your bud, effectively setting your veins on fire, then takes the chance to throw your earlier words back at you. 

“Tell me what you’d like me to do,” he says, mouth never leaving the little nub.

You want him to make you cum, is what you want to say—or rather, you want him to let you cum, considering how he so cruelly ruined your earlier orgasm. But it all only translates into a litany of unintelligible whimpers, and Alhaitham smiles, the mischief twinkling in his eyes now glaringly apparent. He can’t help how endearing it is, that you, who always has so much to say, is now struggling to answer even the simplest of questions.

“Use your words. I want to hear that pretty voice of yours.”

“I want… I need…” you’re only able to make out a few words in between your ragged breaths before you’re interrupted by your own broken sob as he sucks down hard on your abused clit.

“Hm? What was that?” 

“Want to cum… ” you choke out, eyes sliding shut as you try again with your best efforts.

The latter half of your sentence warps until it rises an octave and melts into a shaky moan. Alhaitham barely gives you just enough time to finish before three lithe fingers find their way into your cunt without warning, slipping past your wet folds with ease. The dull pain of an added finger stuffed into your tiny hole, has you keening, your own knuckles turning white from your steel grip on the bed sheets. 

With a sweep of his tongue, he laves over your swollen clit again, sending shivers through to your core as you feel the tension return in your abdomen, this time wound even tighter from the way he continues to fuck your already sensitive cunt.

“ ‘m so close… please,” your breath catches in your throat as you whimper and squirm. “Please Haitham, please-” 

It’s beyond his own belief how he managed to wrangle you into his bed; the beautiful mermaid who had first tried to drown him, who was always so outspoken and bold— now reduced to a begging, whimpering mess on his sheets. For that, he mentally pats himself on the back and decides to take pity on you. 

“Come on, mermaid. Let me hear you sing.” 

Immediately, you feel his fingers curl, right up against the very spot that has you seeing stars, exactly as he had intended. He drags his teeth carefully, lightly grazing your swollen clit, effectively ripping out a loud, visceral scream as you finally tip over the edge in an earth shattering orgasm. 

Waves of pleasure continue to wash over you as Alhaitham finger fucks you through your high,  vigilantly hitting that sweet, spongy spot over and over again without mercy. You’re left quivering, fingers desperately grasping at the bed sheets, trying to find something, anything to hold on to. His hand, the one that isn’t three knuckles deep inside you, moves to hold your hips down as they twitch in the settling overstimulation. 

A satisfied hum rumbles in the back of his throat as he finishes off with an easy kiss to your inner thigh. He finally slows down his movements as you ride out your high, though the shallow, wet noises as he rocks his fingers in and out of you, seem all the more erotic against the backdrop of your dissipating cries. 

“Can’t get enough of you,” he coos. “Such a pretty thing—so gorgeous when you cum for me.” Alhaitham continues to whisper sweet flatteries that have you preening until he feels you clench weakly around his fingers once more. He raises a brow, the beginnings of a small smirk forming on his face.

“Of course you like to be praised.” Despite the lilt in his voice, he draws his soiled digits out with care, though you still shudder as he passes through your sensitive folds.

“Shut up.” 

Even as you sit up to catch your breath, your eyes wander over to the man’s bare upper body, before they drift down to the impressive tent bulging from his pants. Suddenly, you’re made painfully aware of how utterly empty you are. Arousal pulses through you, once again dripping out of your cunt at the thought of being stuffed full.  

Your obvious staring doesn’t go unnoticed; and neither does the way you shift as you’re rubbing your thighs together for more friction. Your shamelessly perverse act only reinforces the thrum in his already rock hard cock.

“Open up.” You do as you’re told, intuitively wrapping your lips around his long fingers, cheeks hollowing as you clean off the mess you had left. It spurs him on, the way you hold his gaze with those large doe eyes, blinking so lasciviously when he draws them back out, leaving behind a trail of saliva that snaps like gossamer on your lips.

“What, haven’t had enough of me yet?” He teases you, yet the slight waver in his voice as he struggles to mask just how much he’d like to cum right then and there, says otherwise. 

“Not nearly enough.” 

Your playful wit is nothing new to him. And while Alhaitham considers himself to be quite well versed in how you love to play coy, an expert in navigating around your flirtations—he’s far from immune to your coquettish displays. He’s only human after all… 

So it’s no fault of his own that you drive him absolutely insane.

Pupils blown wide and dilated with lust, he dips down until you can feel his hot breath on the shell of your ear, “I hope you don’t regret that.” His smooth baritone sends a shiver down your spine until it pools between your already sticky thighs, a vague promise of what’s to come.

Before you know it, he catches you in another eager kiss, rough and hopelessly greedy, as you fall back onto the mattress without a care. It only heightens your sense of urgency that he can’t help but grind into you.

His normal attire barely hides his bulge, but even underneath these loose clothes, the outline of his cock stands tall and unmistakably erect against the fabric—which you desperately need removed now, as you fumble with the waistband. Alhaitham chuckles lightly into the kiss before pulling away. Message received. 

He moves quickly, pants and underwear hastily thrown to the side and forgotten, because how could you possibly think of anything else when he stands before you, hands fisted around his magnificent cock, grunting at the little ounce of relief as he gives himself a few quick pumps. Precum dribbles from the flushed pink tip and your eyes follow as he spreads it along the impressive length. You can’t help but think that it’s… pretty. And oh how you adore pretty things.

He lines himself up at your entrance, cockhead just barely dipping inside as he hovers over you, and for the first time tonight, you realize just how incredibly vulnerable you are now, laid bare before him, ripe for the taking. But it’s okay if it’s him. Whether it’s the fuzziness mulling in your head, or your cunt that’s thinking for you, anything is fine as long as it’s Alhaitham.   

Above you, he swallows harshly and you can see the slow bob of his throat as he does so. “Tell me if you need to stop,” he murmurs. The rasp in his voice makes it apparent that it’s taking every ounce of fortitude not to just slam his entire length into you. 

The first hiccupped gasp that escapes your lips has him smiling smugly as he pushes in, splitting you open with ease from how wet you are. But the stretch as you struggle to accommodate his girth burns despite your previous preparation; he’s just so much bigger than his fingers. Inch by agonizing inch, he stretches you wider, whispering sweet nothings while he stuffs you full of his cock. 

“You’re doing so well,” he praises, though it’s quickly drowned out by the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Every time you think he’s done, he only continues to push further inside. Your head spins at how full you already feel, unconsciously tightening around him and drawing out a choked curse that rolls tactlessly off his tongue. There’s no helping the way his self control fades when you’re squeezing him like that, your needy cunt intent on sucking him all the way in. 

“Fuck,” he rasps. It’s foreign and depraved and so vulgar compared to his usually eloquent speech—not that it isn't also incredibly attractive hearing him lose his composure like that—but it’s even more so especially because you’re the one making him feel this good. Your heart flutters at the thought and the vibrations of another muffled grunt ripple against your skin when you reflexively bear down again.

Alhaitham bottoms out in one final push, sending you reeling at how the thickest end of his shaft forces your little hole to stretch even wider to accommodate the width. A hitched cry leaves your throat and your arms fly to wrap around his neck, pulling him close as he presses soothing kisses along your jaw, though it does little to quell the heat rapidly igniting throughout your body.

“Are you alright?” There isn’t an ounce of teasing in his tone when he pauses to glance down, giving you a moment to adjust while ensuring you’re okay. 

Your hum of approval is all he needs to start moving in languid strokes that fill you to the brim, his shallow thrusts so lewdly squelching to the tune of your wetness. Each slow drag of his cock forces you to feel very ridge and vein as he grinds back and forth, pulling soft mewls out of you until they melt into breathless whines pleading for something more.

“Faster… f-faster please.” 

Who was he to deny you, when you’ve been taking him so well? Sliding ever so slowly, Alhaitham all but pulls out, leaving only the very tip of his cock to kiss your entrance. You don’t even have time to process the jarring emptiness before he slams his entire length back in with a single thrust, powerful enough to send your entire body jostling from the impact. Your back arches in pleasure, your head thrown back in a silent scream as your mouth falls agape, the sound dying before it’s ever able to leave your throat. 

Alhaitham is relentless when he starts fucking you in earnest. The gentleness from earlier is gone, replaced by the callous way he repeatedly pounds into you, burying himself to the hilt every single time. He’s hitting depths you never thought possible, with each thrust sending shockwaves that ripple through you until it scrambles your mind, shattering that last piece of lucidity stubbornly holding you together.

“That’s it. Take it, just like that,” he coos, but you're too fogged over to comprehend his words. It’s clear your mind is currently occupied by other matters; matters such as the chant of his name atop your long string of strangled cries.

He revels at how pliant you are underneath him—so stimulated and keening out in pleasure at everything he does, greedy cunt eagerly swallowing every inch he offers, pulling him in with every snap of his hips. 

His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking on the nub while he twirls the other between his fingers, groaning when your nails dig into his shoulders, imprinting crescents onto his skin. The added stimulation elicits another set of frantic whimpers, and the familiar tightness in your abdomen returns.

“Haitham I’m… I’m so…” Close, he deducts. He can tell by the way your walls close around him.

Half of him wants to watch you struggle with your words in between all your panting and moaning, wants to withhold your sweet release until you can speak properly while he continues to piston in and out of you. The other half, driven by his wanton throbbing, slides a hand over the curve of your ass, lifting your leg to angle himself just right before plunging deep inside you, hitting that same spot from before that had you seeing stars. 

Loud, broken sobs tear through the room as his tip mercilessly drills into the spongy spot with pinpoint precision. Your nails rake down his back, and a sharp hiss manages to escape from his lips. It only fuels him more, makes his movements more erratic. Over and over, hit after hit, Alhaitham delivers an exhilarating pleasure that drives you to the edge of delirium. Warmth blooms in the pit of your stomach threatening to spill over and seep into every crevice of your being. 

It’s too much. It’s so good. It’s not enough. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. 

“I can feel you falling apart around me.” The corners of his mouth lift in a smug grin, ignoring the fact that his voice comes out in ragged huffs, uneven from his labored breathing.

There’s no use denying how much you affect him as well— not when fire licks his body, coloring his pale skin flush. Nor when his expression is clearly strained, trying so desperately to hold on to his crumbling composure. You’d notice if you still had the capacity to process anything at all, but alas…

He lowers his head into the crook of your neck, nipping lightly at the tender skin before switching to your native tongue. “C’mon my beautiful mermaid… give it to me. Cum for me.”

The white hot bliss that sweeps across your body is maddening and it leaves you absolutely shattered. The vibrato in your voice cracks as you scream and sob, body going impossibly taut. You’re desperately gasping for air, drowning in the waves of euphoria that wash over you, but it pulls you in and drags you further down into delirium. You can’t think, you can’t speak. You can’t stop the trembling in your thighs and you can’t stop your cunt from spasming as he continues to fuck into you.

His pace slows but his strokes are longer and deeper, as if he’s trying to ingrain himself permanently within your walls. Your moans rise in pitch, turning to whimpers when his thrusts continue past your orgasm and into the settling overstimulation, his cock still taking from you where there’s no more to take.

You’ve never felt more like a paradox than you do now. Your head is the clouds, while your body feels heavier than ever. You’re painfully sensitive, squirming to get away as he chases his own release, yet your cunt still pulses and begs to milk his fat cock dry.

Weak arms reach up to cup his face, pulling him in for a lasting kiss, breathing him in like the air you so desperately need in your lungs. When you pull away, your eyes are so dazed and lidded, not yet recovered from the intensity of your orgasm, but already prickling with tears from the burn of overstimulation. 

“Make me yours.”

Alhaitham buries his head in the crook of your neck; there’s no hope of keeping up his composure now. In fact, it’s a wonder he didn’t come from those words alone. You already are, he tells himself. There’s nobody else he could ever want; nobody else could ever compare to how perfect you are for him. 

With a few final thrusts, he presses his weight into you and sinks his cock as deep as he can. He lets out a tattered moan and his hips stutter as he follows you over the edge, the warmth of his hot cum spilling into your insides. 

A fleeting thought crosses your mind: Maybe you want to stay like this forever. So warm and tingly and speared open in all consuming pleasure. 

His body slumps against yours, relaxed and utterly at peace. In the numbing midst of his high, Alhaitham’s mind is for once, a couple beats slower than his palpitating heart.

“I love you.” 

He wasn’t thinking when it had slipped out of his mouth. The words came so naturally, rolled off his tongue so easily. It’s too late by the time he realizes just what he’s said; he hopes to god you didn’t hear him, but it’s the only thing you catch amongst all the white noise. He loves you. Alhaitham loves you. 

It replays on a loop inside your head but your jumbled mess of a brain can only process so much right now. “Love… you…” you barely manage to scrape out. He quiets your empty babbles with another kiss, muffling your whines as he gently—though reluctantly—pulls out of your embrace. You shudder and whine at the loss.

“Easy now,” he soothes, distracting you with praises and soft pecks to your temples. To you, the emptiness in your cunt feels all too foreign, but he can’t help but stare at the lecherous sight of your combined fluids dripping out of your hole. He can already picture it in his head; the wet noise of your slick and his cum, all shoved back into you so that not a single drop is wasted…

Alhaitham shakes the thought from his head, forcibly tearing his eyes away before his own mind can betray him. He excuses himself before soon returning with a glass of water and a warm, wet towel in hand.

Slowly but surely, your lungs steady, and the fog dissipates, and you’re finally able to anchor yourself back to reality. A reality where your throat is dry, hoarse from all the retrospectively embarrassing sounds he had dragged out of you, and your limbs feel so heavy, as if your bones have all but dissolved into jelly.

“Gonna clean you up, okay?” 

With your permission, he helps sit you up, passing you the glass of water before he begins wiping off the excess fluid between your legs. The towel is rough against the still sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you jolt. Immediately, he utters an awkward apology, looking up to gauge your reaction. 

Water, split from the sudden movement, drips down your chin. Loose pieces of hair stick to your forehead; the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin makes sure of that. To look so disheveled yet so gorgeous at the same time… you’re absolutely enchanting in the afterglow. A flicker of pride rushes through him—he did that. The proof was in the bites and bruises littered across your skin. He smiles, sheer adoration present in his eyes. 

Your soft giggle breaks his train of thought. “What are you—” A yawn. “What are you looking at?” The chirp in your tone peaks just the tiniest bit out of your sleep-laden voice, but you’re too worn out to wait for an answer, opting to fall back onto the mattress instead. It’s not long before you fully yield to the exhaustion.

You look so peaceful in your sleep, so human, that he almost forgets you’re not. Still, he wonders how it would feel to hold you in his arms as he sleeps. To wake up beside you and watch as the sunlight illuminates your features.

Would it be selfish of him to indulge just a little more?

Tossing the towel aside, he joins you under the safety of his covers. He wraps an arm around your frame, pulling you close, holding you right next to where his heart beats in his chest. Alhaitham presses a soft, last kiss to the top of your head before he too, drifts off to sleep. 

When morning comes and the golden sun arises, everything will return as it was. Dreams and other such wishful delights are of the moon’s sovereignty, so tonight, let him hold on to this reverie for just a little while longer.

next

a/n2: This was my very first smut piece so I hope you enjoyed :’) Since this is an extra chapter, I tried not to include any details that would drive the plot too much, but ending it with just a tiny bit of angst to transition to the next part. thank u for reading ! ♡

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x reader smut #genshin x reader #genshin x reader smut #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin thirsts #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fanfics #genshin x you #alhaitham x you #genshin alhaitham #genshin imagines #mermaid au #mermaid!reader #𓇼 — 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓴𝓳𝓪𝓭𝓮'𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓭 𝓪𝓾

[devilfic]

❝late-bloomer❞

plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.

a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha

Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"

You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.

You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."

No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.

But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."

"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."

"I'm serious, Pete."

He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."

"How did it feel? Do you know?"

"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."

Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.

You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."

You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.

A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."

Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"

A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.

You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.

But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.

Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.

But it wasn't laughing you worried about.

"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.

Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."

Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.

Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.

"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"

There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."

Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"

"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."

"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.

You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.

It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."

You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."

You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.

Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."

It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."

"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"

"I really don't want to. Move."

"Why are you shutting me out?"

"Because I want to go home. Move."

"Is it because of what I said?"

"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."

The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.

Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.

"I'll see you later, Pete."

You let his front door shut on its own.

It hasn't been great.

What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.

You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.

So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.

It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.

And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.

Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.

You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-

He's sitting in your kitchen.

Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."

Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."

Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"

"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.

You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."

"Busy avoiding your best friend."

You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.

The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.

"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."

Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.

"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."

"It's not a big deal?"

"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."

"So it doesn't matter at all."

"Correct."

"Right."

"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."

You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.

Suddenly, you're released.

You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."

You smile, "And I appreciate that."

Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"

"Zilch. Nada."

"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."

You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"

"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."

Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."

"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"

"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."

"And now we do."

"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"

He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."

You're six years old again.

You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.

You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.

And you're thinking... you start thinking something.

You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.

Peter's still staring at you, waiting.

Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.

But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.

You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.

When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.

Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."

Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.

Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."

He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."

You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.

Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.

You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.

You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"

You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"

Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."

"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."

"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"

"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."

"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."

Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"

His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."

You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.

Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."

"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"

"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"

You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."

You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.

This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.

So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.

Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.

You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"

You nod, speechless.

Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."

You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."

Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."

"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"

"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"

You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.

He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.

Did it? You stare up at Peter.

"We can try as many times as you want."

You might have a very different problem than you started with.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

#peter parker x reader #peter parker scenarios #peter parker imagines #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker #spiderman x reader #spiderman scenarios #spiderman imagines #spiderman fic #spiderman fluff #spiderman angst #andrew garfield #spider-man #marvel #mjwrites #tasm

[monzabee]

lean on you – cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you learn to lean on Charles more than you thought you ever could.

Pairing: charles leclerc x medstudent!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: it’s been a while since i went to an actual hospital, so that, and also worried charles, mentions of sickness and vomiting, also mentions of food poisoning

Request: “Hiiii! I don’t know if you still accept request😅 but I have something in my mind if you are open to it, like the reader is quite sick before Charles’ race, he wanted to stay to take care of her but she insisted that he go on with the race and that she’ll be fine. But during the race, Charles’ got a call that she have been taken to the hospital by Lorenzo since she almost passed out. Charles went straight to the hospital and bit mad and angry at her being so stubborn. I just think Charles can be over protective and can be so upset or angry when he get very worried. Like how Charles will emphasise that she have him instead of being so independent all the time. 🤍🤍🤍 thank you if you will do it, but if not, it’s alright too! I just love and enjoy reading all your works!🤩 ”+ “Can you write a fic where the reader is a med!student with Charles? (definitely not projecting🫣)”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i loved both of these concepts and i though they’d go well together, because most of my friends who are also med students love diagnosing themselves?? i kind of wanted to based the reader off of bow from black-ish if you guys ever watched it, it’s my current watch and i love her so much!! it was very fun for me to write, and thank you to both of the anons for their requests! Feedback is always appreciated, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

“Are you sure you’re fine, mignon? You look worse than you did last night.” Charles lets his eyes look over your fatigued figure in your bed, worry etched into his eyebrows.

Giving him a weak smile, you do your best to reassure his worries by reaching for his hand resting on the side of his body. “I’m fine, love, I feel better than I did yesterday.” Charles sighs softly, his worry not entirely dissipating. He moves closer to the bed, his hand tightening around yours, and you squeeze his hand gently, relaying the message that you appreciate his concern. “I really am, you don’t have to worry about me, okay?”

“You say as if that’s an easy thing, love.” He emphasises, giving you a small smile that still allows you to see the dimples on his cheeks. “I just don’t want to leave you alone, you seem worse than you did last night.”

Your expression softens as you recall the way he doted on you the previous evening, no matter how much you told him that you were doing fine. “I promise I’m feeling much better, it’s nothing but a stomach bug – and I promise I’ll rest today, too.”

Charles leans down and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You better keep that promise and rest, it’s doctor’s orders," he says with a hint of playfulness in his voice. "I'll hold you to it.”

You chuckle weakly, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. “I promise, Charles. I'll stay in bed, take my medicine, and rest. I have some lecture stuff I have to go over, anyway." You pause, looking up at him with sincere eyes. "And you need to focus on your race. I don't want you to worry about me, be careful out there please.”

His lips form a mock pout, making your facial muscles to pull in an involuntary smile, “But my favourite part is the part where my doctor takes care of me,” his thumb draws a comforting circle on your hand, “your kisses help immensely.”

You blush at his playful comment, grateful for his affectionate nature even in times of worry. “I promise I’ll give you kisses when you come back, but only if you promise you’ll be careful.” You sigh deeply at the boyish grin he sends your way, “I’m serious, Charles.”

Charles's expression softens, and he reaches out to cup your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet firm. "I promise, my love. I'll be careful. Do you need me to bring you anything before I leave?”

Your nod is sluggish and doesn’t go unnoticed by Charles, but he chooses to remain silent as he gives you a moment to think about your answer. “Can you just give me my computer and anatomy book, please?” You watch as Charles nods in understanding. He leans down to give you a tender kiss on the lips before making his way to the desk where your belongings are kept. Retrieving the items you requested, he returns to your bedside, placing them gently on the bed beside you.

"Here you go, mignon," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. He notices the way you keep fiddling with the collar of his your sweatshirt – a habit you usually display when you’re sick because the clothing usually causes overstimulation in your mind. “Do you want me to bring you some water? Or maybe order room service?”

You shake your head to the either side this time, giving him a sleepy smile as you start talking, “I’m good, but thank you, darling.” You let out a small giggle at the unapproving glance he sends your way, “I promise I’ll order some food when I get hungry, Charles.”

Charles chuckles softly, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and concern at the way you emphasise the word. "Alright, love. Just make sure you take care of yourself and eat something nutritious. I don't want you skipping meals, even if you're not feeling well."

You nod, appreciating his reminder. "I promise, Charles. I'll make sure to eat when I need to. But for now, I think I'll focus on studying and getting some rest."

He leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "That sounds like a good plan. I'll leave you to it then, but remember to reach out if you need anything, okay?"

"I will," you reply softly, your eyes growing heavy with fatigue. "Thank you for taking care of me, Charles. I love you."

He smiles warmly, his eyes filled with affection. "I love you too, mignon. Rest well and take all the time you need. I'll see you soon." With that, Charles gives your hand a final squeeze and presses his lips to your forehead in a parting kiss before reluctantly pulling away and leaving the room. Taking a deep breath, you focus on the task at hand, determined to make the most of your day even if you’re feeling a bit down.

It’s not easy for Charles to focus on his driving that day, not easy at all. He can’t seem to focus on the track when you seem to occupy his mind and linger in his thoughts. The people around him notices the way he seems almost detached at the garage that day, and also noticing your absence, thankfully they accommodate him and his aloofness the best they can. He keeps an eye on his phone the entire time before he gets in the car – something he usually never does before a race just in case you call him in need of assistance. Charles takes a deep breath, trying to clear his mind as he prepares for the race. He knows he needs to focus, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you. Concern and worry gnaw at him, making it difficult to fully immerse himself in the adrenaline of the race.

Before climbing into his car, he approaches his brother, who is thankfully standing nearby. He looks into Lorenzo's eyes and speaks in a hushed tone, “Hey, can you do me a favour?”

Lorenzo, sensing the urgency in Charles' voice, gives him a nod, his own concern mirrored in his eyes. “Of course, Charles. What do you need? Is everything alright?”

Charles takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding. “I need you to keep an eye on my phone, Y/N wasn’t feeling too good this morning, and i have a bad feeling about it.” He hands Lorenzo his phone, making sure to check one for one last time to see whether you’ve texted or called him, you haven’t.

Lorenzo's brows furrow with worry as he listens to Charles, but he understands the gravity of the situation and the significance of Charles' request. "Don't worry, Charles, I'll take care of it – and I'll let you know if anything happens. You focus on the race, and I'll make sure everything is handled."

With that assurance, Charles turns his attention back to the race ahead and quickly puts on his balaclava and helmet. He climbs into his car, adjusting his helmet and securing himself in the cockpit. The anticipation and excitement of the race surround him, but his mind remains consumed with worry for you as he tries to assure himself that you are fine and resting back at the hotel. The race begins, and Charles pushes the limits of his car, manoeuvring through the twists and turns of the track. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't fully immerse himself in the competitive spirit. Thoughts of you and your well-being linger, distracting him from the task at hand. His racing instincts seem dull, his reaction time slightly delayed, and he struggles to find his usual pace.

As the laps pass by, Charles notices that he's slipping further and further behind, unable to keep up with the leading pack. Frustration mounts within him, battling against his worry for you. The race that should have been a chance for him to shine becomes an arduous struggle to maintain his composure, as he struggles to keep up with the cars infront, the ones behind him seemingly passing him with ease and causing him to drop out of points. So despite his best efforts, Charles finishes the race with a disappointing result, far from his usual position on the podium. He steps out of the car, feeling a mix of exhaustion and disappointment washing over him. The familiar cheers from the crowd seem distant, overshadowed by his concern for you. His mind is occupied by imagining the worst as he gets out of his car, takes off his helmet and stumbles towards the team's garage. The once vibrant atmosphere now feels muted, as if the world around him has lost its importance. He can sense the curious glances and sympathetic looks from his fellow team members, but he can't bring himself to socialise with any of them.

His eyes hastily search for his brother, but Lorenzo is the one who finds him before he can spot him. Lorenzo's concerned gaze locks with Charles’, and he quickly makes his way toward him, his steps mirroring Charles’ urgency. Understanding the look in his brother’s eyes instantly, Charles asks, “What’s wrong? Is it Y/N? Is everything alright?”

Charles watches his brother expectantly as he places a comforting hand on his shoulder, making him want to slap his hand away, but the next words that come out of his mouth is enough to takes his breath away, “Carlos is on the phone with the hospital–”

“Hospital?” Charles interrupts Lorenzo, “Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire par l'hôpital qui t'a appelé?” What do you mean the hospital called you?

“Calm down, Charles, laisse-moi t'expliquer.” Lorenzo gives him a pointed look, and gently steer him towards his teammate’s cousin, “Y/N called me from the taxi, she said she was going to the hospital because she wasn’t feeling well,” he raises a hand to stop Charles from interrupting again, “she also told me that she’d call me once she got to the hospital but she didn’t, I’m guessing her phone died and the hospital called me instead. But my Spanish is non-existent and Carlos is talking to them, so for the love of God, calme-toi un peu.”

Charles's mind races with a mix of relief and anxiety upon hearing Lorenzo's explanation. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure as he listens to his brother's words. The realization that Y/N is at the hospital sinks in, bringing a wave of concern to the forefront of his thoughts. Nodding in acknowledgment, Charles tries to calm his racing heartbeat and focus on the information at hand. “My girlfriend is at a hospital in a country she’s not familiar with, how do you expect me to calm down?”

“Just wait for a moment, we’ll have more information when Carlos is done talking to the hospital-people.” Lorenzo reassures him, and it helps Charles to focus on the current issue at hand – learning the name of the hospital and finding his way there as fast as possible.

Taking Lorenzo's advice to heart, Charles tries to steady his racing thoughts and focus on the present. He takes another deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm and composed. The minutes feel like an eternity as they wait for Carlos to conclude the call. Finally, Carlos hangs up the phone and approaches Charles and Lorenzo, his expression grave but determined. "The hospital confirmed that Y/N arrived safely," Carlos begins, his voice steady. "They're currently conducting some tests to determine the cause of her discomfort. The initial assessment suggests it may be a severe case of food poisoning."

A certain degree of understanding and relief washes over Charles as he lets Carlos’ words sink in. He offers his teammate’s cousin a grateful look, “Thank you for your help, Carlos,” he nods his head in appreciation, “do you have the name of the hospital?”

Carlos returns Charles's grateful look with a reassuring smile and a nod, “It’s the Hospital Quirónsalud Barcelona, she’s a smart girl, Charles, it’s an international hospital so she shouldn’t have any problems communicating with the doctors.” He pats Charles’ shoulder when the latter gives him a confused look, “You weren’t exactly quiet, mate.”

Charles lets out a small chuckle, realizing that his worries may have been more apparent than he thought. He appreciates Carlos' attempt to lighten the mood and offers a grateful smile. "You're right, I probably wasn't the most composed person just now," he admits, "but I'm glad Y/N is in good hands at hospital and thank you for your help, I appreciate it."

“No need to thank me, I hope she’s doing okay.” The older man smiles and gives him a final nod as he makes his way towards his cousin.

“Charles,” one of the PR people starts as they make their way towards the duo, “you still have media–”

The look Charles gives the poor intern in return can only be described as a mix of exhaustion and frustration. He interrupts the PR person before they can finish their sentence. “Bill me.” He, then, turns to his brother as he shoots him an expectant look, “Can we go?”

“Come on, I’ll drive,” Charles hears his brother’s voice, which causes him to raise his eyebrows and receive in return, “you’re obviously too high on adrenaline right now, let me drive.”

Charles, recognizing his own state of mind, doesn't argue. He nods in agreement and takes a seat in the passenger side, grateful for his brother's support, but because he is Charles, he mumbles, “You better drive fast,” under his breath as he follows his brother out of the garage.

As the car navigates through the busy streets of Barcelona, Charles finds himself lost in his thoughts – he glances out the window, his eyes darting from building to building, as if searching for answers that lie beyond the glass. The tension in the air is palpable, the silence between the brothers punctuated only by the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of horns from other impatient drivers. He tries contacting the hospital once again, but it seems like luck is not on his side as the operator speaks to him solely in Spanish, which makes him reconsider what Carlos told him earlier. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the Hospital Quirónsalud Barcelona comes into view. Charles feels a surge of hope mixed with anxiety as Lorenzo skilfully manoeuvres the car into a parking spot. Charles is out of the car before Lorenzo even turns off the engine, which earns him a scolding from his brother, but he’s almost halfway through the walk to the entrance as he waves Lorenzo off.

As Charles approaches the entrance of the hospital, his pace quickens with a mix of urgency and concern. The automatic doors slide open, welcoming him into the bustling lobby. The sterile smell of disinfectant fills his nostrils, and the sound of footsteps echoes through the halls.

He makes his way to the reception desk, where a receptionist greets him with a warm smile, and (thankfully) speaks in English, “Good evening, how can I help you?”

Breathing heavily, Charles tries to gather his thoughts and speak clearly. “My girlfriend was admitted through ER earlier today, Y/N Y/LN. Can you please tell me her room number and how she’s doing?”

The receptionist nods sympathetically. “I understand your concern, let me check the system for you.” She begins typing on her computer, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. After a few moments, she looks up at Charles. “I do see her in our system, but I don't have access to that information. You'll need to speak with someone from the emergency department.”

Frustration wells up within Charles, but he takes a deep breath and reminds himself to stay calm. "Can you at least direct me to the emergency department?"

The receptionist offers an understanding smile. "Of course. Head down this corridor and take the first right. You'll find the emergency department entrance on your left."

Thanking the receptionist, Charles follows her directions, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and worry. He walks briskly, determined to reach Y/N's side as quickly as possible. As he enters the emergency department, the sense of urgency intensifies – he watches the hustle and bustle of the hospital; how the medical staff rush by, attending to patients in need and people who are waiting to see their loved ones just like him. His legs aimlessly takes him to the nearest a nurse station and approaches a nurse who seems available. “Excuse me, Miss” he calls out, trying to catch her attention. The nurse turns to him with a professional yet compassionate gaze. “I'm looking for my girlfriend, Y/N Y/LN. Can you please tell me where I can find her?”

“Let me check her records,” the nurse smiles at him, an attempt to calm him and goes through the papers on the chart in her hands. “Here she is, it seems that she was recently moved – she’s supposed be in room 376, it’s on the third level, at the end of the main hallway.”

Relief floods over Charles as he receives the information from the nurse. He manages a grateful smile and nods in appreciation. "Thank you so much. I'll head there right away."

After thanking the nurse, Charles makes his way towards the elevators, following the signs that lead him to the third level. As he steps into the elevator, he can feel his heart pounding in his chest, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. He makes sure he sends Lorenzo a text message to let him know where’s he’s headed, the ride to the third floor feels agonizingly slow, each passing floor adding to his impatience. When the elevator doors finally open, Charles steps out and finds himself in a long, well-lit hallway. He scans the room numbers, his eyes quickly landing on the sign indicating the direction of room 376. With determined strides, he makes his way down the hallway, passing by other patients' rooms and medical staff going about their duties.

Finally, he reaches room 376, and his breath catches in his throat. Taking a moment to steady himself, he gently pushes the door open, revealing a small but comforting space. Inside, he finds you lying in the hospital bed, an IV connected to your arm and one of your textbooks open on the bed beside you. He realises you’re asleep, however, as he watches you from afar. Seeing you lying there, Charles feels a mix of emotions overwhelm him—relief that you’re safe and being cared for, concern for your well-being, and a deep longing to be by your side. He approaches the bed with cautious steps, taking in your pale complexion and the weary lines etched on your face.

Gently, Charles pulls up a chair beside your bed and sits down, not wanting to disturb your much-needed rest. He reaches out and lightly brushes a strand of hair away from your face, a tender smile gracing his lips as he watches you sleep. Gently, he reaches out and takes your hand in his, offering her a tender squeeze. "Hey," he whispers softly, not wanting to startle you. "I'm here. You're going to be okay."

You stir slightly, your eyes fluttering open. A weak smile graces your lips as you recognise Charles. "Charles," she murmurs, her voice hoarse but filled with warmth. "You came."

Charles feels a surge relief wash over him, he leans in closer, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Of course, I came, I'll always be here for you, chérie. What happened? How are you feeling?"

“I’m better now,” your voice comes off hoarse, and it makes Charles cringe inwardly, “I just wanted to come to the hospital because i kept throwing up and thought I had all the signs of food poisoning – but, honey, what are you wearing?”

Charles glances down at his attire, realizing he's still in his racing gear. “I didn’t have time to change,” he explains, his head tilted to the side as he gives you a strict look, “I should have just stayed with you.”

“You had a race, Charles,” your eyes widen in recognition as you remember the race. “Oh my god, how was it? Did you–”

“The race doesn’t matter, Y/N.” Charles interrupts, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I wish you wouldn’t try to be so independent all the time.”

He watches as your lips form a pout, your voice coming off more vulnerable than before as you ask, “What?”

"Y/N," he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. "What were you thinking? Why didn't you tell me you were feeling this sick? I could have been here for you."

You give him a guilty look, the pout on your lips becoming deeper. "I didn't want to worry you, Charles. I thought I could handle it on my own."

His frustration melts away as he takes in your weakened state. He moves closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "You don't have to handle everything on your own, love. I'm here for you, always. I would have been by your side if you had just let me. I should have been there with you today, not at some race when you were puking your guts out.” He pauses, his thumb caressing the back of your cheek soothingly. “I know you value your independence, and I admire that about you. But sometimes, it's okay to lean on others, especially when you're going through tough times. You don't have to carry everything on your own.”

You listen to Charles's words, and a mixture of emotions swirl within you. His concern and care touch your heart, but you also understand the frustration he expresses. With a soft sigh, you squeeze his hand gently. You shift slightly in the bed, wincing at the discomfort. "Being independent has been a part of me for so long, and it's hard to let go of that mindset completely. But I'm learning, slowly, to find a balance, and I'm learning to lean on you when I need to and to share my burdens with you." You give him the softest smile you can muster, “I promise I’ll try to be better, darling.”

His thumb brushes away a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. "You don't have to apologize, mignon. I understand why you wanted me to race, but your health and well-being will always be my priority. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to face things alone. We're a team, remember?"

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know we are, and I’m sorry for worrying you, darling." You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin, and with a soft sigh, you begin speaking again. "I promise that I’ll lean on you more and remember that we’re a team.”

Charles leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "That's all I ask, love. Just remember that you have me, and I'll always be here for you, okay? I love you."

As you feel his lips on your forehead, a sense of comfort and love washes over you. You gaze into his eyes, filled with gratitude and affection. "I love you too, Charles," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you for always being there for me, even when I push you away. I'm so grateful to have you by my side."

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

[charlie-lec-stories]

Out the comfort zone // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Sensitive matters should always be addressed with kindness, tactfulness and pinch of fun.

Warnings: Sexual comments and conversations, but from a mature and funny perspective.

Author’s Note: This story is about communication. Since our favourite trio relays a lot on it, this time you'll have the chance to witness them discuss a really sensitive matter on their relationship. Rate: +18 (Sexual topics)

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"No, no, no, no, no, no. This is not working, Max".

"Maybe if you move your leg to the left, Schat".

"What do you think I am, a gymnast?".

"Well, you are pretty flexible, Amour. Just open your legs wider. I can go behind you".

"This is getting kind of personal, guys, I don't think I want to be a part of this anymore".

"Oscar, don't be a baby".

"He is a baby, Amour".

"I'm 23!".

Lando, George and Alex couldn't believe what they were hearing. It wasn't enough for them to do the dirty together, they also had to mix Oscar into it. As the three of them walked further into the apartment, they found Oscar's hoodie on the floor, and the sound of Max grunting wasn't helping with the picture they were already making in their minds.

"I swear to God, I'm not that flexible. I mean, when it’s just us three, it's easier, but I think that four is just too much. Sorry Oscar, it’s not your fault".

"Way to make a man feel rejected...".

"I really am sorry. But if we keep going like this, I'm going to fall and my ass is going to hurt for days'.

Okay, maybe they should make their presence known. Looking at each other, George understood that he should be the one taking the lead.

"Hey guys, are you home?". He asked, but Lando just couldn't keep quiet.

"Please, tell me you haven't corrupted my teammate yet. He's just a baby!".

Walking into the living room, the three drivers were surprised by what they found. Tangled in a Twister mat, the other four were barely keeping their bodies up. Actually, Y/N was the first one to give up, falling butt first to the floor and taking Oscar down with her, who kicked Charles' right arm, making the monegasque lose balance and take down Max with him.

"Why is it that I can never guess it right when it comes to you three?". Lando asked, rhetorically. Every time he guessed they were doing nothing, he walked on them taking their clothes off, and every time he thought that they were having a private moment, they were just doing something completely innocent.

"Maybe you just think it too much". Max replied, smirking at the disgusted face Lando made. Oscar, Charles and Max got up, Y/N staying laying on the floor, legs and arms extended and exhausted look on her face. Everyone looked at her, expecting her to get up.

"Don't worry, I'll get up when I start feeling my legs again... Man, I hate Twister". She sighed. Oscar took his chance to get back at her.

"And I'm the baby...".

They all had dinner together, and after the guys went away, Max and Charles cleaned the kitchen while Y/N fixed the living room. She carefully folded the mat while listening to the boys chatting in the kitchen. They were discussing something about Carlos. Apparently, the spaniard had a fight with his girlfriend about anal sex. She found it weird that Charles and Max were open enough to talk about it knowing that she was around. It wasn't like she didn't know what they both did when they were alone, but they were never straight forward about either. She kept listening to the conversation. It seemed like Carlos' girlfriend was scared of trying it, and he took it as if she didn't trust him enough to do that with him. But she wasn't interested in what Carlos and his girlfriend did, she cared about what Charles and Max thought about the situation.

The thing is, they had their own ways of approaching sex and those ways were kind of limited. Mostly because of her. She was scared, as Carlos' girlfriend, of getting hurt while doing new things, and even if she had boyfriends before them, she was a little vanilla with them. It was a big jump going from one person to thinking about two at the same time. So the boys were patient, they "took turns" so she wouldn't be too overwhelmed with the situation. More than once she thought about how boring it must be for the one waiting, watching the other two have fun while he had to wait, and whenever those thoughts crossed her mind she felt the need to broaden her comfort zone a little bit.

She concentrated on the conversation again. Max explained that he could empathize with Carlos' point of view, it would hurt him a little to know that Charles or Y/N wouldn't try with him something they wanted to do thinking they could get hurt. He was clear with that: when you love someone, you don't let them get hurt, and you never, ever, hurt them yourself. Charles was little more on the girlfriend's side, he remembered the first time he let Max do that, and he was scared shitless, he also reminded Max that he begged Charles to go easy on him when it was his turn, and with that reminder, Max gave some more credit to the girlfriend's argument. It seemed like they both understood, not only for having been in that position before, but also from an empathetic side, how vulnerable it could be to let someone do that to you. She felt relieved.

"Hey, can I ask you guys about something?". She asked later that night, looking at her lap. They were getting ready for bed, Max was brushing his teeth and Charles was changing his jeans for a more comfortable pair of shorts. They both looked at her, curious about what she could be thinking about. She had been pretty quiet since the guys left.

"Sure, Amour. What is it?". Charles walked to the bed and sat down, placing his hand on her leg and running it up and down, easing her anxiety a bit. Max rushed up his routine so he could focus completely on her, going to the bed as fast as he could.

"I've been thinking about something. About us". Max didn't like the sound of that, he loved what they had too much, he didn't want to break up. "I know that we don't do a lot here". She patted the bed and they frowned at the same time.

"What do you mean, Schat?". He smirked at the thought of everything they had done on that bed. "We do a lot here".

"I mean, yes, we do, but it's how we do it". They weren't following her and it was frustrating. "I want us to do things together, the three of us, but it scares me. Every time I think about it, this fear of getting hurt paralyzes me".

"You mean that you want us to do things to you... together?". Charles was trying to be as polite as he could about the subject, Max was a little more direct.

"This is the type of conversation I like to have in bed. Who cares about the last episode of The Last of Us?". Y/N laughed under her breath, the pink on her cheeks softening a few tones.

"We can try whatever you want, Amour, as long as you feel comfortable. You're the one that will get the roughest part, we know that, that's why we never asked for more and waited for you to bring it up". That made her feel safer.

"We will always take care of you. We promise". She knew that Max was sincere.

"So, how do we do this?". The boys looked at each other, their eyes wide open.

"You want to try this now?". Charles asked and she nodded.

"Yes! I waited for this moment my whole life". Max exclaimed happily as he took off his shirt.

"Mate, calm down or you'll be the one getting it". Charles did what he could, but there was no cure for Max. If there was something that he had been waiting for was for the moment they all three did something together.

"I didn't know his love for butts extended this far". They watched Max go to the bathroom, looking for lubes and oils that would make the process a lot easier.

Charles just sat with her, holding her hand and smiling at her. Y/N and Charles had a different sexual history together than each of them had with Max. They started dating first and that meant that they started sleeping together before they added Max to the equation. Charles knew what, how and when she liked things. He knew her like the back of his hand, and had a different approach to intimacy than Max had. They were pretty equal in bed, but she usually let him take the lead of the situation and it was a wise decision, since he never guessed wrong what she wanted to do. Max was different, he worshiped her, he would do whatever she'd ask for if it meant pleasing her. That meant that she was the one taking the lead and he followed her like a warrior on a crusade. She didn't know what they were like when they were alone, for what she heard from them once in a while, they switched a lot, it all depending on their moods at the moment. When the three of them were together, Charles would usually go first, helping her relax and carry the situation, Max watching and doing little to no interventions. Then the Dutchman would follow with Charles still in the picture, but more coming from a caring side, taking care of them. He had a protective side that never rested and always shone with them.

Max gave Charles the space to ease Y/N's nervousness, while he decided to go to the living room for some scented candles and his speaker, already thinking on which playlist they should use to make the situation more relaxing for her. Charles took his time setting the mood, kissing and caressing every place of skin exposed before starting with her clothes. She was grateful that they didn't jump on her the minute she agreed to try this, instead they took the time to help her feel comfortable and, more importantly, loved. Once every piece of clothing was off, Charles looked at Max, a silent conversation about how Max could enter the picture as smoothly as possible. They decided for him to do something that Charles usually does: massages. So while Charles kept her busy, Max took one of the oils and gently started massaging the knots on her shoulders, easing the tension. They both knew the process, they knew what they had to do for her to be ready, so they just made sure to be open and verbal about what they were going to do before doing anything.

"It's going to hurt, you'll feel some pressure, Schat. It's normal, you just have to relax". Max told her after her and Charles had already been going at it for a while, as he carefully moved her legs to position her comfortably on top of Charles. "If you feel like you can't keep going, you tell me and I stop immediately, okay?". She nodded, still a little tense, even if she was worked up. Charles, under her pulled her flush against him, letting her rest her weight on him and running his hands up and down her sides.

"We need words, Amour, you know it". It was a rule that they had, nothing without explicit consent, specially new things.

"Yes, I understand. I want to do it". She sighed and prepared herself, focusing on Max's hand caressing her lower back.

It hurt, it took her some time to get used to it, she even let a few tears run down her cheeks. The boys stopped moving a few times to give her time, they whispered some comforting words to her and kissed her discomfort away. But she ended up liking it, once the pain was not there anymore, once she felt how connected she was to both of them in that moment, she realized that she was right on stepping out of her comfort zone. She had never seen them as happy as she saw them in that moment, Charles locking eyes with her from underneath her, Max's smile against the back of her shoulder as his hand grabbed Charles', both squeezing each other's hand tightly. It was special and it was great, two things she before feared the moment wouldn't be. She was glad that they all did that together.

"How do you feel, Amour?". Charles asked her as soon as he recovered from his post sex dizziness. She felt Max moving away from her, lifting his weight so she could move if she needed to, but she needed him close, so she grabbed his arm and pulled him back on top of her. Charles let out a huff when Max's weight fell on them again, being the one holding everyone on top of him was hard, but he wouldn't rather be anywhere else. Max chuckled at his huff and Charles slapped the back of his head, but ended up joining his boyfriend in the laughing fit. They stayed like that for a while, just close while their hearts went back to a normal rhythm.

"What about a bath, Schat? I think it'd be good for you". She let out a quiet 'yes', Max then getting up and walking to the bathroom. Charles took his time with the massages, working on all the new muscles she had used and were in need of care. When the water was ready, he helped her up and she went to the bathroom. While she relaxed, Max and Charles cleaned up. They changed the bed sheets, took all the candles, oils and lubes to their places and prepared some tank top and cotton panties for her to dress up with. She stayed there until the water got cold, and with still some discomfort, she got out and wrapped herself in a towel, emptying the tub before walking out. She dried and dressed herself quickly, and joined the boys on the bed, taking her spot in the middle. The tiredness on their faces was notorious, but they put on the effort to stay awake to make sure she was alright.

"You might feel a little sore in the morning". Charles said and then kissed her shoulder, his hand on her hip, on top of Max's.

"But the bright side is that you get breakfast in bed because of that". She giggled at Max's comment.

"I might do this with you every night if it gets me breakfast in bed in the mornings". She joked, but Max was grinning like he won the lottery. "I'm joking".

"Don't play like that with my heart". His smile dropped and she felt Charles shaking with laughter behind her.

"You seriously love butts".

"They are one of the best features of you guys, after your arms and Y/N's boobs". The other two looked at him holding their laughter. "What?"

"Bueno, para gustos, colores". Y/N said and snuggled up by bringing Max closer. They were used to her chanting some Argentinian sayings at them and they learned what most of them meant. This one meant that it was pointless to discuss personal preferences. "Thank you for being so good to me". She said after a while. "You have no idea how important it is for me that this moment went on this great".

"We love so much, Schat. You don't have to thank us for these things. We'd bring down the moon and stars for you".

"Je vous aime, mes chéris". (I love you, loves)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hey, I'm back with lestappen x reader. Hope you guys like it. I'm thinking about working a bit with smut, but from a more subtle and delicate perspective. What do you guys think about that? Would you like more content like that?

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #lestappen imagine #lestappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #max vestappen one shot

[badmuni]

enhypen x-ray 🔍

★ . ꜝꜞ ᳝ ࣪ ( the way they communicate with their s/o ) ☁️ׂ ʬʬ

₍⁠₍ 김선우 ₎⁠₎ sunoo

“how was your day?” “tell me everything.”

sunoo is incredibly interested and wants to know everything about his s/o's life, even the bad outcomes.

“did you have dinner already?” “please don't skip any meals !”

sunoo is constantly concerned with their wellbeing and health. he pays attention to these details since he is aware that some people are careless with food and he doesn't want his partner to be.

“you can count on me, baby. i love you. i love you so much i can't even breath”

he likes to show his affection for them sometimes even sounding a little dramatic, but that's just how he want it to be. sunoo enjoys expressing his emotions, which usually results in him sending them lengthy (romantic) texts. or placing calls...

₍⁠₍ 西村力 ₎⁠₎ ni-ki

“did you miss me? don't lie, i know you missed me.”

riki is cute and provocative all at once, and he enjoys receiving special treatment from his lover. he just acts like that every time he visits them.

“i wanna go out with you again, baby.”

riki enjoys spending time with his s/o. he likes taking them on adventures and to new places because it makes him the happiest. also, because he likes adrenaline (way too much).

“i bought something to you... it's surprise so i'm not going to reveal what it is, but try to guess it.”

riki (often) spends his money buying things to his s/o. sometimes a plushie or maybe a T-shirt that says “i love my boyfriend” with a lil pic of him in it (thats so corny lol). or sometimes a jewelry, rings, bracelets, necklaces. he totally spoils his s/o in his own way.

₍⁠₍ 심재윤 ₎⁠₎ jake

“darling, do you think this looks good?”

always asking his s/o opinions on things, doesn't really matter the topic, jake will wants to hear their thoughts on it because he has a lot of faith in their taste.

“i woke up, tidied up the room because yk jay slaves me, so i went out to work, then i came home, but it was too late so i went to dinner [...]”

jake is very open with his s/o, telling them everything, since he thinks it's cool to do so. as he appreciates having a strong link with them, he believes that doing this brings them even closer together.

“BABY YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT JUST HAPPENED”

he just CAN'T be privy to a gossip; he'll quickly relay it to his partner. as soon as he knows something, he just goes there and tells them about it. jake just can't keep secrets from his partner...

₍⁠₍ 양정원 ₎⁠₎ jungwon

“i dreamed about you last night... it was pretty clingy but i like it”

jungwon thinks about his s/o constantly, even when he's sleeping... :( and he makes clear they are aware about it.

“how are you feeling today, darling?”

wonnie is very sensitive to the feelings of his s/o and appreciates that they keep him informed of their concerns and feelings throughout the day.

“better you be careful, i'm going to kidnap you tonight😼”

unplanned little walks through the city at night is something wonnie enjoys doing with his lover in order to easy his mind and feel peaceful.

₍⁠₍ 이희승 ₎⁠₎ heeseung

“i wish you were here...”

many times, as an introvert, heeseung just wants to escape from social events. but tbh, he thinks that if his s/o were around, the whole experience would be better for him.

“i was counting the minutes and seconds to see you”

heeseung is sweet most of the time, and plus, he's very good using words. he also can't just get away from someone he loves so much for too long or he starts to get crazy.

“oh- you want water, baby? don't worry, i got you!”

man simply don't miss a single opportunity to please his partner or just do things for them. they want or need something? heeseung is there doing for them.

₍⁠₍ 박성훈 ₎⁠₎ sunghoon

“you have such a good taste...”

“oh- why do you have a good taste? because you date me, tsk”

hoon is constantly valuing himself, almost as though he enjoys pampering. so he expects his s/o to agree with him that he's a handsome man.

“you look so good today. actually you look good everyday... you're the prettiest, baby”

never disappointing, sunghoon wants his s/o to be always confident about themselves just like he is, so he often compliments them.

“are you feeling good? wants to do something else?”

when he and his s/o goes out, hoon worries if they're enjoying what they're doing. if the crowd seems too loud, sunghoon quickly wants to take his partner from there. he values have a good atmosphere around him and his partner, that's why he gets worried.

₍⁠₍ 박종성 ₎⁠₎ jay

“did you know productivity is a concept created by the capitalism?”

jay is such a nerdy and that's something not much talked about. he is always discovering new things and randomly telling his s/o about it. jay absolutely adores debating, too.

“your eyes are so pretty. for real, the prettiest eyes i've ever seen. they shine with the sunlight... i don't wanna stop look at them.”

also, jay is always noticing every detail about his s/o. be it about their physical characteristics or personality.

“bought this for you since last week i heard you say you wanted this.”

jay literally remembers every last information since he likes to make his partner feel special. jay demonstrates his love by being a devoted person, as you can tell from the bottom of his heart.

# masterlist

[ ★ ] — notes: hey guys, i just created this new thing 'enhypen x-ray' where i'll make posts like this about their acts and behavior.

thank u for reading ! and let me know if you like it :)

© badmuni, 2023

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen drabbles #enhypen oneshots #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfic #yang jungwon #kim sunoo #lee heeseung #park sunghoon #park jongseong #nishimura riki #jake sim #sunghoon x reader #jay x reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen niki #enhypen headcanon #jungwon x reader #enhypen fluff #ni ki imagines #myworks

[seelestia]

Dunno why I felt compelled to do this, but-

Here's some dialogue I just thought up regarding that angsty af Zhongli oneshot that a certain someone requested (who could it be I wonder 👀👀)

The ones talking are Ganyu and the Reader.

"Do you regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Your love."

"..."

"I regret not being born earlier."

"I regret not being a goddess."

"I regret not being the first."

"I regret not having the long straight hair he so misses."

"But most of all, I regret not being her."

"But you had no control over any of those! It's not your fault!"

"...That's exactly why it hurts."

We love angst 😩💅💅👍✨

- Ever so sadly yours, 👹✨ Jae (also hi Lia :D been a while since I been in your inbox huehue)

— 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭.

a continuation to do you love me? choose a decision at the end! only 1/2 endings available as of now.

summary: a cracked heart is like a cracked jar; it can only hold so much within before it shatters — what if you've come to terms that you cannot take the pain of the truth any longer? (1.2k+ words)

genre: angst, "loves you but not most" trope, lovers to ???? (open-ended / cliffhanger i'm sorry.) + read the alt text on the header for extra summary!

characters: ganyu, zhongli, guizhong (implied).

cw: descriptions of crying, one pet name.

thoughts: you came into my inbox after a while and you brought pain with you. i'm not particularly proud of this but here you go, i cannot be blamed for these buckets of tears any longer. (/j)

✰ main masterlist. // series masterlist.

The night was young in Liyue, the breeze was gentle as it swept across the lands — but oh, how you wished the wind could also blow the sadness in your heart.

Blurry sight, soaked cheeks, sheer and pure numbness. For how long had you been like this? Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days. Whatever perception of time you had left just seemed to crumble to dust.

You couldn't help but wonder why? Ha, what irony when you knew very well why.

Wasn't it the truth that was relayed to you some time ago? Wasn't that why you decided to sneak away whilst your lover was sleeping, why you were crying in the company of a concerned friend, why you were here right now?

"I'm so sorry—" you choked out an apology to Ganyu through bated breath.

Your friend was out for a midnight stroll when she saw you and upon seeing how red your eyes were, she didn't leave your side out of worry ever since. You tried to reassure her that you'd be fine alone, really — but she looked so devastated, equally as sorrowful as you were like the very sadness in your heart was her own.

But you felt pathetic; so pathetic and so pitiful.

Nothing had been the same after that day, as much as you wished to deny it. Curiosity did kill the cat, after all; in your case, curiosity was what condemned your soul to a void of nothingness.

They said love was what filled a human's soul and if that were true, then you would be nothing but a shell of a soul. Zhongli gave you a love that you wished to cradle with your all forever — but he was never yours, never completely yours. Yet, how could you blame him? How could you ever blame him for experiencing a love so great he wasn't able to forget it?

"I'm not her. I could never be her," you finally forced the words out, clutching onto the railing of Liyue Harbor until a stinging pain greeted your hands. It had been the simplest conclusion, yet the hardest pill to swallow. A fate you couldn't change even if you wished you could so bad, someone unrivaled you could only imagine holding a candle to. Bitter and self-deprecating were the quiet laughter you let out at the realization.

Never was, never will.

"[Y/N], you don't have to apologize," was all Ganyu could afford to utter. She knew she should've said more, but the words escaped her barren mind; perhaps, it would be better to listen instead of saying something that could make matters worse. You could tell that Ganyu was disappointed in herself for not being able to provide you with profound wisdom or the right words of comfort.

Truthfully, you couldn't help but feel terrible for putting her in this situation, for possibly ruining her night with your mood. But when the Adeptus placed her hand on the crook of your elbow as a physical reminder that she was here for you, you smiled. Then, you turned your head towards the ocean and closed your eyes.

Finally, the pain of crying finally caught up to you, hoping that the blowing night breeze could somewhat soothe the stinging dryness and heavy bags underneath your eyes. As you did so, in the corner of your mind, a single thought passed by and you caught it by its tail.

Was it a thought meant to be voiced or buried? Either way, you brought it to life and wondered out loud.

"...Would it be better if I broke things off instead?"

Your question seemed to take Ganyu by complete surprise.

You knew why so; before your relationship with Zhongli came to be, Ganyu was one of the listening ears to your constant rambles about him. How much you admired him, how flustered you were when he smiled at you, or how you felt like you could float to the skies whenever he spared you a single glance. You recalled the surprised look on Ganyu's face when you first told her about your feelings for her Lord, but she was supportive towards your endeavor.

Now, here was where both of you stood. Oh, how time flew.

"Do you remember when he accepted my confession?" Even with your eyes closed, you could almost feel Ganyu nodding at your words. You were the same, you felt as if you could recall it like it had only been yesterday too. "I was so happy I felt like I could float to the clouds and never return. The man of my dreams is finally mine! I thought," you laughed, but there was no hint of mirth evident in your tone.

"What was it like? Being loved by him?" That sort of question sounded foreign to Ganyu but still, she asked, a willingness on her part to indulge in your nostalgia.

"Warm like having someone wrap a blanket around you and comforting like feeling the steam from a cup with your favorite tea on your face after a long day," you hummed. If loving Zhongli and being loved by him were a feeling, it would've been one that you'd never let go of... but you knew this feeling was no longer the same after the truth.

"I am not his greatest love, yet he is mine," it was something you stated solemnly, having come to terms with that fact yet not being able to fully withstand the ache that came with it yet.

When you continued, your voice broke and you frowned, "Why does it have to hurt so much? I want to stay with him, I want to pretend I didn't hear anything that day, I want to go back to the time where I knew nothing about her — but I couldn't."

The corner of your eyes began to sting once more, welling up with tears at a possibility of euphoria which you could never go to. "If only I could, then I wouldn't spend all my nights awake, wondering why I wasn't her or thinking of ways I could somehow be better than her in his eyes. If I could, I'd be sleeping happily in his arms right now and... I wouldn't feel this pain anymore."

There was no stopping the waterfall running down your cheeks now and you could feel that stinging pain again as a result. "But that's a fantasy," you breathed out. You were just so tired and your knees were beginning to feel weak — but still, you looked at Ganyu through your blurred vision.

"...What should I do? Should I save myself or dwell in blissful ignorance?" You whispered with a smile that was unbefitting of your melancholic question. Ganyu hesitated but before she could formulate an answer, a familiar spoke from behind the two of you.

"...My love," a voice that was all too familiar and a nickname that caused all that was going on in your brain to halt.

You froze, veins running cold.

"R-Rex Lapis?"

Ganyu's shocked yelp confirmed it all.

There Zhongli was, standing there. A few strands of his hair looked amiss as if licked by the wind from a fast-paced trip, as if he had just gone places, as if he just went everywhere searching after waking up with you nowhere to be found in his arms. Maybe, that was exactly what he did.

His amber eyes were downcast and the way he was standing so fixedly instead of looking like he had just arrived instantly made your heart clench — because that could only mean one thing.

He heard everything.

.

.

.

[ WHAT IS YOUR NEXT DECISION? ]

↪ Stay quiet and dwell on your thoughts of breaking up with Zhongli.

↪ Wipe away your tears and put on a smile as if Zhongli didn't hear anything. — COMING SOON!

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

© SEELESTIA, jan 2023. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin angst #zhongli angst #seelestial.inks #dylm.series 🍵

[roonilwazlibimagines]

control freak pt.2 - t.n x female!reader

Blurb: theo has control issues but his girlfriend doesn't mind

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: warning - toxic!theo!! i also really don't like this but so many people wanted me to post it and i don't see myself making it better anytime soon so i thought i'd post it even though i hate it, sorry :/// i mainly hate it because it is just pure self indulgence, because my ex best friends actually did ruin my 21st and this brought up old wounds so if anyone wants to hear some gossip about people they don't know please hit me up because i'm ready to rant

also i'm so sorry of this is overstepping, but i tagged whoever asked for part 2 bc you all made me so happy commenting on my post <3333 @gilmore12 @avalentina @pretties-t

Masterlist | Part 1

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

If she had her way, people would stop calling Theodore Nott controlling. Okay, maybe there had been times where he had lied to her and deceived to get his way, and sure, he was quick to rise to temper which often made her just agree with him, but it was just because he always knew what was best. 

And that was what she kept repeating in her trembling mind the night that Theo had made the phone call. 

She liked this side of him. She had said it to him explicitly that she liked it when he took control and she didn’t have to actively use her brain. 

After a year of dating, she thought Theo would be used to her indecisiveness, and yet, she was sat on the edge of his bed, all dressed up, whilst he he towered over her, waiting for her to make up her mind. 

“It cannot be this difficult of a decision.” 

“I just don’t know what I feel like.” Her legs were swaying, the backs of her thighs hitting the blanket draped over the edge of her bed. She hummed in thought, noticing the way Theo’s jaw began to tick. 

“What about that Mexican place?” This was the third place he had offered and even he noted the desperation in his voice.

“Do you want to go there?”

Theo had had enough. He knew the pretty girl sitting in front of him was hopeless at making decisions, but this was too far. 

“We’re going to the pizza place you like, okay?” Before she could open her mouth he continued, “C’mon, get up, we’re going.” And his arm was shooting out towards her so she grabbed hold of it and kept her mouth shut. 

And it was only after they left Hogwarts that she admitted to her pretty boyfriend that she liked when he ordered for her, because that was what he always did. And once he had this admission, Theo made sure his pretty girlfriend never had to make an order for whatever it was her heart desired. 

“I don’t know what a feel like, maybe I’ll just get cheese.” She put the pizza menu down and looked at Theo who was already looking back at her. 

“Sounds good.” He wasn’t too interested in the topic of the conversation, but he always made sure the pretty girl in front of him had his full attention. 

“What are you getting?” 

Theo knew what would happen the second he answered, and like clockwork, she immediately replied, “Ooh, maybe I’ll get that too.” 

“You can have some of mine,” he offered.

“But yours sounds better.” 

“We can have half of each.” 

But she wasn’t listening, her attention was drawn back to the paper menu in front of her. 

“I think I’m going to get vegetarian, instead,” she hummed.

“Whatever you want, princess.”

He watched her bit her bottom lip, and the skin above her nose crinkle. 

“Nah, I’ll get cheese.” Before Theo could respond she continued, “No, vegetarian.” Theo didn’t respond. “No, definitely cheese.” 

“You sure?” 

“No.” 

And Theo thought he really couldn’t be to blame for his control issues when his girlfriend was like this. 

When the waiter came over and looked at her first, she gave them a polite smile, but then returned her attention to the pretty boy in front of her, undeterred by the waiters lack of attention and relaying their order in full confidence. 

“-and a vegetarian pizza please,” he finished, making the decision for her. 

She liked not having to worry about trivial things like this, and Theo liked making sure he could rid a worry as small as this. Because that was all he wanted. For her to receive the best. 

Which was why, the night after her friends had called him controlling, he decided that he didn’t like the sound of these ‘work friends’.

And, no, it wasn’t just because they had caled him controlling. Merlin, most of his friends told him to his face that he was controlling. He already knew that. 

It was because even though they had invited her to go out countless times since that night, he didn’t properly meet them until her birthday. 

He had offered to bring them in when he brought her in, but she brushed him off. 

“I offered, but they declined,” she shrugged her shoulders, looking at the mirror in the sun shade for the passenger seat, missing the way Theo kept glancing over to her. 

When he picked her up he asked again if anyone needed a ride home, just like the good boyfriend he was. 

“I offered, but they said they were fine.” Yet when the drover around the corner a small sound of surprise left her pretty lips. 

“What’s wrong, princess?” Theo’s eyes kept flicking away from the road, trying to read her pretty face that was staring out of her window. 

“Nothing,” she shrugged her shoulders and turned back to face him, giving him a faux reassuring look. 

“Tell me,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument. 

“They’re just in line for another club,” she gave another shrug as if this had no importance, but it did to Theo because he could tell, even though she tried to hide it, that it had importance to the pretty girl sitting next to him. 

“I thought you were all going home,” he squinted his eyes slightly as he turned to look at her, but she wasn’t looking at him. When they drove past a light, he could see that she was chewing the edge of her lip. 

“I thought so,” she shrugged, finally turning to him, “oh well, I was ready to go home anyway.” She gave him a smile and if Theo hadn’t spent three years of his life with her, he would be convinced she was fine. 

It didn’t take long for Theo to decide that he didn’t like these so called friends. He didn’t explicitly tell his girlfriend this, but he didn’t hide his disdain either. 

When they cancelled plans and she went over to his house instead he’d angrily ask, “Well did they tell you why?”

“One of them had other dinner plans.” 

“But you had planned this a week ago.” 

She shrugged, “something came up.” 

The look he gave her was enough for her to know that he wasn’t happy so she changed the subject. “I really want to watch this new movie tonight, I don’t think you’ll love it, but I think you’ll tolerate it.” 

When he got a phone call from her barely an hour after they had gone out, reassuring him that she was okay, but she wanted to go home, he’d demand, “It was them wasn’t it, what did they do?” 

And even though he hadn’t said who ‘them’ were she’d still say, “no I’m just not feeling up to partying tonight.” 

Even though she sheepishly admitted that they were more interested in hooking up with some random guys then staying out together for their girls night which she originally thought was the plan. 

“That’s horrible.” 

She shrugged. “It’s fine. Do you think we can stop for some ice cream on the way home though?” 

The reality was, it was easy for her to say that Theo was just being his usual controlling herself. This was how normal friendships worked. And she didn’t have a lot of friends. She had her Hogwarts friends, but they were older now and weren’t in contact as much. And it was a much easier thought that this was what friendship was like rather than facing the fact that she didn’t really have any friends. Besides Theo of course. 

But she wouldn’t tell him these thoughts because she knew he would go on a rampage unti she was happy, so she never expanded on it and made sure that Theo never got a chance to tell her he hated her friends, even if she was certain he despised them. 

A few months later, just after they had been together for four years, Theo knew that it was time to make his lovely girlfriend his lovely wife, and he wasn’t going to let her friends come in the way of that, not when they had gotten this far. 

They had a small engagement party with their friends from Hogwarts and a couple of their work friends. She had, of course, invited those two girl from work, even if Theo had rolled his eyes behind her back when she informed him. 

It started when the two girls started fawning over her ring. 

“I need to know how much this cost.” 

Sure, Theo was the first to admit he had traditional values. She had teased him before about being old-fashioned. But he didn’t think discussing the price of his fiance’s engagement ring was an appropriate topic, especially in front of two girls he had maybe met twice, and didn’t exactly like. 

“He refuses to tell me,” the pretty girl grabbing his hand had answered instead. “He’s too old fashioned.” 

Her eyes flickered to him to let him know that she was joking and he gave her hand a itte squeeze to let her know that he knew. 

“Oh come on,” one of them said, “I’m dying to know.” 

The conversation lasted another couple of minutes with his pretty girl trying to swerve around the question while he remained silent. Which was unusual for Theodore Nott. 

Sure, he was a man of little words. And he much preferred to sit and observe rather than get invovled in the action. But that was always the opposite when it came to the pretty girl next to him. But he thought that if he opened his mouth, none of the three girls around him would like what would come out. 

But then it continued when one of them tried to flirt with Blaise albeit his polite refusal, not wanting to make a scene at one of his best mate’s engagements. 

Theo didn’t think anything of it until she had the audacity to come over to him and ask him about it. 

“You know your friend Blaise?” 

“Obviously.”

“What’s his story?” 

Theo refused to answer. They were in a private room and he was standing next to the bar, a drink in hand and he sipped it to avoid responding. 

Unsprusingly, she continued anyway. 

“Like, is he in a relationship? I didn’t think he was but then he refused me, but he is quite fit, I think, and he said this wasn’t the place for it, but I think he was just playing hard to get, what do you think?”

He was going to be drunk quite soon if she kept talking to him. 

“I think I’ll try again. Merliln, I love being friends with someone who has hot friends.” 

Theo downed the rest of his drink and promised himself that he was going to push the conversation out of his mind. 

And he probably would have if his pretty girl didn’t come up to him with a nervous look in her eyes, less than thirty minutes later. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you think we coud do cake now?”

Everyone had just finished eating and the volume of the music had increased to encourage people to start dancing. She was on her tippy toes, bringing her lips close to his ear so he could hear. Theo had his next drink in hand, but he was sipping it sowly after drinking the last so fast. 

“We just finished eating darling, give it a minute.” 

“I know but-” she gave herself away when she turned to look at the two girls Theo was trying to ignore the whole night. “They need to leave.” 

“They need to?”

The way she biting her lip and swaying on the spot was all Theo needed to see to tell him that that his pretty girl was lying to him. 

“Well, they got a call from one of their friends and-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Theo,” she whined. She knew the exact tone she needed to use to make Theo do whatever she wanted. But this apparently only worked for frivolous things. Not something like this. 

“No, we are doing cake later. If they need to leave, let them. But we are not doing it now just for them.”

“But-”

“I said no.” 

He hated the way she practically deflated in front of him. 

He hated that her bottom lip was trembling. 

He hated that they were doing this on their engagement. 

But she had to stop making excuses for these horrible people. 

“Will you tell them no?” Her voice was so soft he wasn’t sure he would have understood her if he wasn’t watching her intently. 

“I’ll tell them more than just no.” 

“Theo,” she whined, but he had already put his drink down and was storming over to them. 

“So you’re leaving?” Theo asked the two girls sitting down at one of the tabes. He had risen to his full height and she was immediately taken back to her Hogwarts days when rising to his full height meant nothing good and definitely something physical. 

“Yeah, but we’ll wait until you do cake.” One of them responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

She was squeezing his hand so hard Theo was convinced she’d leave bruises. Not that he minded. But her nervous energy was rubbing off on him and he wanted to send her away, just like he’d do back in Hogwarts when he’d rise to his full height. 

“Well we just ate, so we probably won’t do cake until later.” 

“Oh,” one of the girls said, “but we’re leaving now.” 

“Well, thank you for coming.”

“Ok,” the other said, standing up. “But I tought you said you’d do cake now?” She asked, turning to the small girl hiding behind her fiance. 

“I-” 

“I said it was too early.” Theo cut her off. 

And that was the end of that conversation. After a very awkward goodbye hug, the two girls had left. 

She didn’t know what to say to Theo. In once instance, she was glad that he had dealt with it. She didn’t really want to do the cake now, it was too early. But she also didn’t want to confront the two girls, she had to see them at work every day!

So even though Theo wanted to let out some sarcastic remark about how nice her friends were. He refrained when he saw the confused look on his pretty girls face. 

Upon reflection, this was the night everything turned messy. 

The next Monday the two girls had confided in their friend. 

“Don’t you think he’s a bit controlling?” One of them asked, trying to make their voice unaccusing but failing horribly. 

She shrugged as she said, “he means well. And, yeah, he is, but I don’t mind.” 

She didn’t dare tell Theo this, who, the night after the engagement, had decided he could bring up how much he hated her friends. 

“I don’t like them.” He had brought up after they had finished opening all of their well wishes. 

She already knew who he was talking about. 

“They mean well.”

“Do they?” He was sitting on the lounge and she had gotten up from her place on the floor to sit next to him. 

“Most of the time,” she laughed, even though he didn’t think it was funny. “They’re just different to us.” 

“Well I don’t like them.” 

She bit her lip. 

“I’m sorry.” Theodore gave her a look. Of course it wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t control who she worked with. 

“I just wish they treated you better.” She thought that if they continued with this conversation she’d start crying so she changed the conversation. 

“We have to thank Draco for his very generous gift.” 

Theo wanted to tell her that if he had his way, she would never see them again. He’d help her find a new job, or better yet, she wouldn’t have to work. His family were part of the Sacred 28, she didn’t need to work. 

But even with his controlling streak, he knew that might be a bit too far. 

That was until a couple of months later when it was her birthday. Theo had surprised her with a little trip that required her to take a couple of weeks off work. Which he had already organised. 

The two girls were bummed when she said this would mean she wouldn’t be having a birthday party. 

“But we can still party when I get back!” She had exclaimed.

“So I won’t get to see Blaise again? I really thought I had a shot.” She had gotten in response. 

Theo had organised for her to have a week off before they actually left and on the night before he could finally have her all to himself she was sitting with her head against the back of their bed, biting her lip and staring at her phone. 

“What’s wrong princess?” Theo had asked, lying down next to her. 

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He repeated. 

“I just, it’s stupid.” She said, turning her phone off and letting her head rest on the pillow next to his. 

“If it makes you look that stressed I’m sure it’s not.” 

“It’s just, they haven’t messaged me all week.” 

Theo already knew who they were. 

Theo wasn’t sure why this frivolous thing was his tipping point but for some reason it was. 

She wasn’t sure why she was telling him this, but it felt good to get off her chest. 

“I messaged them on Monday to say I’d miss them and hoped work wasn’t too boring without me, but they haven’t replied.” Her voice broke at the end of the sentence and Theo was convinced that was why he had chosen now to tip. 

“Don’t message them.” 

“What?” She turned her head to face him. 

“Don’t message them, see how long it takes for them to reach out.”

“Theo, you’re being ridiculous.” He gave her a look to let her know he didn’t like the words that left her pretty mouth. “We’re going away, I want to enjoy my time with you, don’t do this.” 

Much to his annoyance, Theo did as she said, trying to put it to the back of his mind so they could enjoy the trip he had been planning for months. 

But a part of her thought back to what Theo had said many years ago in his car when they were going home from Draco’s. 

“I know what’s best.” 

And she had spent so many years with Theo and there was a reason for this. She trusted him. So even though she made no commitment to it, a piece of her thought that she would listen to his advice. 

For the actual day of her birthday, Theo had planned a special dinner for her. He had gone to extreme lengths to make sure her day was perfect, which was why he couldn’t understand why his girl had a sad aura around her as she got ready for dinner. 

“What’s wrong, princess?”

“Nothing, Theo,” she said, trying to look up at him with sincerity. They were both dressed and ready, standing in their hotel room with their hands intertwined. 

“Princess.” 

“I’m just-” she looked at the ground, “they haven’t messaged me.” 

“Since we left?” 

She nodded. 

“Not even today?” 

She shook her head. 

Theo was ready to apparate back home and give them a piece of his mind, but instead he grabbed her chin and made her look up at him. 

“Please don’t worry your pretty little head about this, they don’t deserve you.” 

She was shocked with his response. She was sure he was going to apparate home and give them a piece of his mind. But he didn’t. And he was a calm in a very un-Theo like manner. And she liked it. So she trusted him. 

So he took her out for dinner and he made her feel like the most special girl in the world. And he did the same for the rest of their trip. 

On the last day they were both on their backs, lying in bed. The bedside lamp was on and Theo turned to see her eyes closed, but a pretty smile gracing her lips that told him she was awake. 

“Darling,” she opened her eyes and turned to him, humming in acknowledgement. “I called work today, told them to give you an extra week off.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a fraction of a second before she pieced the pieces together and nodded. 

“Thank you.” 

Theo had also taken a week off work to be with herand he became aware that her mood was quick to fluctuate.

After her birthday, Theo distracted her and she was happy. But the day before he could sense the nervous energy radiating from her being which magically disappeared the second he told her he had told work to give her another week. 

Similarly, he noticed she was okay when she was distracted during that extra week off. Until the weekend came. 

It was Saturday night and she was in the shower and Theo had been thinking about this for a while. He knew it was wrong. Knew it was crossing so many lines. But he couldn’t let his fiance suffer like this. 

He grabbed her phone from the bedside table and put in her password. He scrolled through her messages. Many of the last messages being from her, thanking various people for the kind birthday messages. When he found the groupchat he was looking for, he didn’t hesitate. 

The last message had been from her, the week before they left. Theo swore at them in his head. 

This is Theo, I think it’s best you delete her number from your phone. She won’t be coming back to work and she deserves better than the shit you’ve given her. 

Theo almost found it humorous that within seconds he got a reply. 

What the fuck? 

Look who’s talking

He scoffed at both of their replies and waited unti they stopped typing. 

You literally control everything she does

Maybe if she didn’t have such a controlling boyfriend we’d be able to have more fun with her

Theo debated blocking their number, but he just couldn’t resist. 

Right, like the fun you had with her on our engagement? Before you left after barely an hour for some random guy

It was silent for a minute. 

Before you practically kicked us out

Theo let out a quiet laugh

We love her and just want what’s best for her

Theo heard the shower turn off and his heart dropped. 

Yeah, and that’s why you never wished her happy birthday. Fuck off

And with that he blocked both numbers, deleted the group chat from her history, turned her phone off and put it where he found it. 

That was the easy part. Now he just had to convince her not to go to work. 

She came out of the shower, only a towel wrapped around her body, loose strands of hair falling from her bun. 

He could sense an unspoken sadness and he wondered if she could sense his unspoken annoyance. 

“Darling, “ he began, sitting on the edge of the bed as she made her way over to him. If he didn’t have a job to complete, he would’ve taken more time to appreciate the way she instinctively sat on his lap. “I’ve been thinking,” he cleared his throat as she looked up at him. The image of innocence on her pretty face. “Do you really want to work?” 

Apparently it wasn’t too hard to convince her to give it up. He had started explaining, “You know, you’re marrying into the Sacred 28 and I don’t want you to feel like I’m making you give it up-” which he totally was, “but I just want what’s best for you and-”

“Theo,” she interrupted. “I’d like that.” And she gave him a swift kiss before getting up and getting changed into her pyjamas. 

When she came back and joined him in bed he turned to her and said, “I’ll ring them tomorrow,” and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. 

She wasn’t stupid. She had been waiting weeks for a message from them and when she couldn’t even find the groupchat she knew something had happened. Knew that Theo was somehow involved. She debated asking him about it, but did she really want to know? She knew it must have happened while she was in the shower. She could practically hear Theo’s heart beating when she was sitting on his lap, but she was happy to live in denial. Her boyfriend was protective and he liked to look out for her, even if it sometimes crossed the line. But she was happy to put the blame on her two friends, and she fell asleep easy that night knowing that the boy who had his arm around her would always have her back.

#theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott angst #theodore nott fluff #tn #tnf #tna #tni #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter blurb #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #hp #hp imagine #hp blurb #hp fluff #hp angst

[fanaticsnail]

I just binged a bunch of your fics and I have a tiny request for you! Could you do headcanons for Zoro and/or Sanji with a selkie reader (together or separately)? Please and thank you!!

Masterlist here.

Word Count: Background Drabble, 700+. Per gentleman, 600+.

Hello dear anon! Thank you for challenging me with a mythical fic! I enjoyed my time crafting it for you. I hope you don't mind, I wrote them as more mini-fics/drabbles rather than HCs. I also snuck in an extra character because apparently the heart wants what it wants today, and I can't deny the words from wording.

Selkies are an aquatic race of fey native to the cold, wet northern coastlines. They live in villages on the shore, and occasionally mingle with outsiders. They have a particular wariness of humans, due to their tendency to steal their seal skins, but Selkie are otherwise very sociable creatures that love exploring the shores and the oceans beyond (Fact link, 5e Race)

@writingmysanity @gingernut1314

There was a battle above the surface, that was one thing you were certain of. Cannonfire, ricocheting iron balls and splintering of the wooden masts above the waves. You had never seen such violence, such hatred between two peoples. Recognising the marine lettering was no difficulty for you; their kind gracing your shores with regularity. 

It was the other vessel that drew you in. You heard laughter ringing down below the ocean surface, halting you in your retreat as you sought out its source with your blackened eyes. Your sisters had long since fled from the display of violence, opting to hide away and wait for the fighting to stop. But you remained behind, desperately seeking out the conclusion to the battle above. 

Suddenly, the marine ship began to flee from the engagement, but not before a figure was cast into the water and began rapidly sinking to the oceanic floor. Your eyes widened, your tail-flipper carrying you with haste to bring yourself over to the figure without a second thought. 

His hair was dark, his eyes were tightly shut, and his limbs refused to move in a way to propel him away from his approaching death within the salt water. A devil-fruit user, you thought, bringing your curious eyes over to his and seeking them out beneath his closed eyelids. The small scar below his left eye had your head cocking to the side in curiosity. 

“Luffy!” you heard several voices cry from above the surface of the water, the man’s eyes immediately opening to meet your own. His shock was written all over his face, his breath releasing in a bubbled huff that had his arms attempting to raise upwards to collect his breath to no avail. 

“Luffy,” you called in your oceanic language, smiling your feral face into his; revealing rows of sharpened teeth in a wide smile. His panic continued to rise, his lungs screaming for air as you took your time studying him. You drew your face impossibly close to his, unblinking eyes studying him as he struggles against the water. “Luffy,” you again called to him, your eyes and face beginning to relay a humanoid likeness, “Let me help you.” 

You ushered your body beneath his, chaperoning him to the surface of the water and drawing his body up to the surface of the water. He immediately sucked in a large ballooned breath of air, his neck snapping towards his ship to seek out the concerned and panicked faces of the members of his crew. After he made eye contact and flashed them a winning grin, he turned back to face your animalistic and beastly face, and upturned his eyes in gratitude. 

“You think you could take me to the ship?” He asked, a mischievous twinkle now reflected in his eyes as he checked over you. You nodded, beginning to ride the propelling waves over to the vessel. The figurehead of a ram was carved intricately against the ship’s stern, a beauty to behold as you danced your flipper and easily propelled you both to the splintered and fractured wood. 

He wrapped his arms around your upper flippers, nuzzling into the back of your neck and uttering his gratitude against your skin. Your voice harshly barked a cracked laugh at the gesture, enjoying his playfulness and kindness as he continued to tell you what a good seal you were. 

“Luffy, what are you doing?!” A woman with orange hair called out to him, eyes wide and panicked. 

“This seal saved me from drowning!” he called in return, with his broad smile pleasantly cracking his face, “Gotta rub its belly and thank it with a big scratch and a cuddle!” As Luffy drew himself over to the ship, he jumped from your back and took hold of the rigging above and began his slow climb to the top of the water. 

Your instincts screamed at you to return to your sisters, to withdraw away from these sailors; but as soon as your eyes sprung over to meet your eyes with theirs. Why, you were completely hypnotized.

Hoisting your body upwards, your beastly form shedding from your human form and shrouding yourself in a cloak of blubber and fur. You climbed in your nudity to the decks above, hoisting your legs over the side of the ship and revealing yourself to the entirety of the crew in front of you.

“Luffy,” the woman whispered, her shock written all over her face, “That is no mere seal.” Luffy cocked his head over, shock now written on his face at noticing your beauty in your human form.

“That is a selkie.”

Zoro

The swordsman had never seen such beauty in his life. Although immediately drawn in by your otherworldly radiance, as the loyal first mate aboard the Going Merry: he stepped in and ushered the captain behind him and took a protective stance. A darkness was within your eyes, rotating your shoulders as you squared up to face this mysterious man. 

You knew from your place within the water below that when your eyes met his, he was a marvel to behold. But now with your close proximity to him, his valiance and loyalty to his captain had you immediately smitten. Widening your lips in a broad grin, you elevated your hands in front of yourself defensively and bowed your head low to him. 

“I mean neither you nor your crew harm, Protector,” your honeyed voice sweetly called to him. He was taken aback with your voice, stumbling in his step forward as he continued to shield his captain away from you.

“I’ll be the judge o’ that, Ningyo,” he uttered with a smirk;his eyes displaying a similar ferocity to yours in your bestial form. 

And that is when you decided you were going to court him. Your soul cried out to join with his; immediately smitten with the swordsman. You stayed with the crew for months, subtle touches over his shoulders, leaving a fresh kill at his feet first, before Sanji took it to the kitchen to properly prepare it. Everything you did, you did to please the swordsman. Every fiber of your being called to him and courted him. 

You began leaving your furred skin around in places for him to find, only for him to return it to you with a deep scowl and a verbal reprimand of: “Can ya stop leaving this around the place? It’s really annoying.” 

It was only when Usopp and Nami physically sat him down and spelt out the courting practices of Selkie folk that had his face burning with a bright vibrance and his eyes widened. His lips downturned in a deep frown as his blush rose, his shock at your shameless audacity of courting him so publicly without any context of his lacking comprehension.

He decided a full frontal confrontation was what was needed to tackle this, no room for any other mistaken intentions and misdirection for his lack of direction sense.

“You been leaving your blubber ‘round for me to find, Ningyo?” he yelled at you, heads snapping up from the crew around as they witnessed this verbal spat. 

“Yes,” you confirmed, laying back and basking in the sun atop the wooden deck.

“Why?” His pointed hazelnut gaze held the intensity of a man staring down his enemy. You refused to shy away; instead rising to your feet and squaring up to him.

“Because I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine,” your lip curled at the corner, your sharpened canines baring out in your brilliant smile. He reached down, claiming your biceps within his wide fingers and palm.

“Why me?” He growled, his tone low enough for only you to hear. You reached up your hand, softening your smile and cradling his angry face beneath your palm.

“Because I love you, Zoro,” you cooed up at his face, eyes half-lidded and full of nothing short of full adoration. His breath hitched in his throat, his mind not keeping up with the words you were relaying to him. 

“This why you kept bringin’ me fish?” He asked you, his nose crinkling up as his smile broke through onto his lips. You nodded, leaning into his face. You gently brushed your nose with his, closing your eyes as you breathed him in. 

Breaking from the gentle touch, you withdrew your nose from its contact and quickly bore your teeth at him, biting his chin in a gentle nip. He flinched at the contact, eyes widening at your expression.

“Next time I leave it out for you,” you growled at him, “Don’t bring it back to me, Protector.”

“I won’t, Ningyo.”

Sanji

Sanji’s breath was sucked from his lungs, his eyes wide and wild at seeing a creature of myth and legend aboard the deck of the ship. He watched as your eyes slowly assessed the crew, your gaze lingering on Luffy before your gaze snapped and met with his. Your lips parted, your heart rose into your throat as your eyes began to widen at him.

From your position below the waves, shepherding the member of the pirate crew back above deck, you drew your attention to the blond member of the crew and were immediately intrigued. As your eyes met with his rounded, gray orbs; you knew for certain: 

This man was the most beautiful sight you had ever laid your eyes on. And looking at him, you knew he was immediately taken with you too. 

But you refused to give into your emotions that easily. 

For the next few months, you found yourself constantly nearby the ship known as the Going Merry. You constantly checked up on their non-swimming captain to ensure his safety traveling the seas, but your eyes always fell over the form of the chef amongst them. Each time you would leave, you always looked over your shoulder to notice the way his eyes would linger on you - always holding hope that you would turn back around and remain with him. 

Before you really knew what you were doing, you began ushering grandiose feasts of fish and crustaceans towards the Merry, always ensuring your blond was well supplied with a variety of ingredients from within the depths of the ocean. 

Kelp, seaweed and shells of vast variety began to find themselves on the windowsill of the kitchen; just as flowers, beads and brightly coloured stones were left out for you to find as you placed the gifts there. Each present had your heart swelling, but continuing to remain strong in not giving into your human emotions. He was human, and you were not. 

As the ship pulled into a far off dock, Sanji’s eyes met yours as you attempted to remain coy to his attention. You were bathing in the ocean; your lengthy hair covering the linen against your chest and over your hips, pelvis and glutes. Your eyes were shut, raking a sharpened, toothed stone through your hair to detangle it of its strands - your fur and blubber skin cast aside atop a rock behind you. 

Sanji was no fool. As soon as he began harboring affection for you, he asked Nami and Usopp for a variety of literature pertaining to aquatic mythos. He knew that if he were to claim your fur for himself, you would have no choice but to be with him. 

He bid a hasty farewell to his crew for the evening, gesturing with his chin over to your position to alert Nami to his intentions. She pursed her lips, attempting to hold back her smile as Sanji drew himself closer to you. 

As he drew his shaky hands over the skin laying so innocently against the moss-covered gray rocks, he stilled his descent and retracted his hand. Sensing his hesitation, you looked over your shoulder at him but chose not to address him. Your body and mind screamed at him to take it, to claim it for himself and, in turn, claim you. But as the seconds drew into minutes, minutes turning into several cold and unbroken moments - you finally turned to make eye contact with the chef behind you. 

He was sat directly beside your fur, a cigarette beginning to relinquish its flames down to the filter as he took in the nicotine-laced smoke. His expression was unreadable, stoic and still: something you had not seen reflected on his eyes in all the months you had known him.

“Sanji?” you asked, your brows furrowing in question. He shook his head, inhaling a final breath of his cigarette before stifling the tip and stuffing the butt into his pouch for later disposal. “Sanji, why won’t you claim me?” He again shook his head, closing his eyes and turning himself away from you. 

“I wanted to, mon cœur, believe me,” he confessed, nodding his head but holding his eyes closed. 

“Then why didn’t you?” you rose to your human feet and began stalking over to him. As you drew yourself over to his seated form, you knelt low before him, falling to your knees in front of him. 

“I would never force you to be with me, mon trésor. No matter how much I want you, I would never want you to be mine without knowing it’s truly what you want,” he confessed, opening his eyes to meet his eyes with yours once more. His eyes were pools of true adoration and love, swimming amongst the sunset reflected off the horizon. 

You sighed, reaching down and collecting your fur from its place beside Sanji and bundling it within your arms. Holding it tightly and firmly within your arms, you firmly squeezed it against your chest to hold it one last time before gently bowing your head and presenting it out to him. 

“This belongs to you, Sanji,” you whispered, stretching out your arms further in front of you, “Like my heart: it will always belong to you.” You heard his breath hitch in his throat, immediately falling to his knees in front of you and drawing you in for an embrace. He was quick to cradle you against his torso, smoothing his hands over your slightly damp hair and placing a sweet amount of quick kisses against your temple and hairline. 

You pulled away from his embrace, looking steadily into his eyes at first before propelling your face into his to claim his lips beneath your own. Your movements were slow, dancing with skill and passion as you took his bottom lip between your sharpened teeth. He groaned against your lips, whimpering as you dropped your fur and entangled your arms around him in a strong embrace. You clawed at his back in an attempt to hold him closer to you, your nails tearing small holes into the back of his jacket and finding residence in his muscular flesh beneath the material. 

“I will return it to you when you desire to go home to your sisters, mon cherie,” Sanji whispered, his heart swelling at your confession, “I know you will always belong to the wilds, and I refuse to selfishly keep you with me when humanity becomes all too much for you.” 

Hearing a small winced whimper, you broke away from his lips and gazed into his eyes. He looked at you with nothing but true adoration and love, his eyes softening as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“I love you, Sanji,” you confessed, your voice low and as sweet as honey-wine. Sanji’s smile continued to shine against his cheeks, his eyes dancing lights behind the irises at such an impossible notion. To harbor the adoration of a mythical creature of great renown and legend, that was no easy feat. 

“I love you too,” he confessed, brushing the tip of his nose against yours, “And I hope to continue to be worthy of such affection from someone as amazing as you.”

Luffy

“A selkie, hey?” He exclaimed with glee, immediately bringing himself before you, “Does that mean I can’t give you belly rubs, a scratch and a cuddle?” At that small question, your heart immediately swelled with the fierce desire to travel with this devil-fruit user. 

“I do not think a belly rub or a scratch would be appropriate in this form, no,” your melodious and sweetened giggle sprung gleefully into the air. Luffy huffed out his own laughter, immediately wrapping his arms around your shoulders and drawing you close to him.

“Thank you for saving me, seal,” he cooed in your ear, squeezing you impossibly tight within his arms. After breaking his face away from your shoulder, he continued to hold you within his circular grip as he gazed into your eyes. You danced your gaze between his two caramel orbs, staring up at him through your eyelashes as his warm smile became contagious. 

“I am not a seal, Luffy,” you purred, baring your sharpened canine teeth at him as your smile broadened. 

Luffy couldn’t explain this emotion he felt, but he knew he wanted you to travel with him. Always with him. Never far from sight, not even when in your seal form and dancing in the waves below. He would patiently wait for you to crawl up the hull of the ship and meet your eyes with his; relishing in the ways your smile crept atop your lips as you savoured the mirrored reflection he met you with. 

He wanted to keep you. He needed to keep you. 

And you felt exactly the same. This sailor, this captain among the straw-hat pirates with the dream of becoming king of them. You wanted him as much as he wanted you. And so, you made it apparent. 

Swimming below the depths and finding the most beautiful pearl within the heart of several clams; you presented him with your treasures. You brought him the flesh of your fresh kills, presenting him with the raw, sweeter, meats and watched him enthusiastically dine on the creatures - before becoming violently ill most times.

Sanji managed to sit you down in the kitchen, reprimanding you firstly before directing you to bring them to him for him to make the meat safe for human consumption. You did not take well to this notion, wanting him to see how hard you worked to provide for your beloved captain. 

It was one night where you physically bore yourself before him, your body only clad in sheer linen as you presented your furred flesh to him with a warm flush littering your cheeks. Unaware of its significance, he immediately placed it over his body, removing his straw hat and placing your otherworldly head atop his own. It swelled your heart to witness him take to your gift with such enthusiasm, truly allowing yourself to humble before this pirate and allow him to claim you as his own. 

“Thank you, seal,” he smiled at you, wrapping the skin around himself as one would a plush duvet to shield themselves from the cold, “why are you giving me your skin? I don’t understand.”

You sighed out an exasperated breath, your shoulders slouching and brows upturning in sorrow. He immediately snapped upright and rigid, removing his hands from beneath the flesh and collecting your shoulders beneath his palms. 

“What does this mean, seal?” he asked you, his eyes displaying concern as he held you firm, “You’re not gonna leave, are you? I don’t want you to go. I want you always with me-.”

“-This means I am yours,” you confessed, your eyes refusing to meet his, “And by you accepting it; it means you are mine.” He sucked in a hasty and large breath through his nose, his eyes widening as his lungs swelled. He closed his eyes as he moved his hands over your shoulders. 

“You won’t leave? You won’t go back to your family?” He sought out your eyes with his own, angling his head down to collect your gaze, “You’ll stay with me?” 

“You’re my dream, Luffy,” you smiled, your eyes finally meeting his caramel orbs, “And I want to always be with you.”

#one piece #opla #x reader #opla fic #one piece live action #zoro #sanji #luffy #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #luffy x reader #zoro drabble #sanji drable #luffy drabble #sanji x selkie!reader #zoro x selkie!reader #luffy x selkie!reader #monkey d luffy #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #roronoa zoro

[euorian-pdf]

PT1 "Cause you know we're the same, there's worse things I can take"

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆synopsis: Eren attacks you verbally when you and jean came to check up on him after he went no contact for a while.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆contains: modern au! everyone, toxic!eren, mean!eren, too-kind!reader, toxic friends.

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆wc: 3.0K

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆tw: toxic everyone, connie wishes reader was dead. swearing. not proofread

⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆ Part 2 over here and Part 3 over here

242.

that's how many items were discarded all over the floor, bed, on top of curtains, near the toilet, on the kitchen shelf.

You can't even begin to look at the kitchen, dishes look like they've been in there for a decade, mold growing on them as you observe the living conditions of your struggling friend.

"What the fuck" Jean exclaims as he enters the apartment behind you and immediately retches at the smell, blocking the foul scent of the room with his elbow before it seems to take a toll on him and he says,

"Nah, I can't do this shit, 'm sorry" and heads out of the door bolting from the stench. He shouts from outside the door that he'd stand outside and that "he's got it from here" You chuckle at that and head further into the apartment.

The smell is none of your concern as you look around for signs of Eren, afraid that any sort of negative emotion might cause him to lash out and feel bad about everything. Everyone goes through phases in their life and this right here, happened to be his extreme low. Locking himself away from everyone and everything, it seems that he no longer cared about his well being seeing the stature of his home.

So this must be the reason

You think to yourself as none of your phone calls have gone through ever since you went on a small school two-week trip. You'd inquire about this to Mikasa, who'd always relay the same message to you.

Everything’s fine

Which happens to be ironic due to the state of how Eren is, both physically and mentally. You finally catch sight of him lying in a fetal position in the bathroom of the apartment. He's shirtless, only with sweatpants that look as rugged as sweatpants could ever be. His hair seems longer, almost past shoulder length. He seems to be shaking?

You head over and crouch next to him, disregarding everything gross in your view, that didn't matter right now, he did. You slowly poke his arm to grab his attention and he mutters something under his breath. something incoherent. You try to ask him what he said but as if on cue, he replies.

"Please leave y/n. I don't want you to see me like this" Eren emphasises the word you which makes your heart warm a little, but little did you know..

You get where he's coming from but you pay it no mind and rub his back soothingly trying to comfort him as much as you can.

"In my eyes, in the end, you are just the Eren I know" You reply, sitting down next to him, now stroking his hair to get him to look up at you as his head was buried down in his knees in a way to block you out.

"c'mon, let's get you all better" you urge, gently pulling his arm to get off the floor avoiding words that address the situation currently, that can be set aside for later.

He harshly tugs his arm back and continues in the buckled position, it startles you a bit, he's never used force, not even indirectly. You once again shrug it off and crouch near him tucking away strands of his hair away from his face to see him clearly but he remains locked in the position, heads in his knees.

"Eren, trust me, I don't see you any differently than before, not now, not ever," you assure him, trying to clarify that as much as you can.

And with that, he starts laughing, maniacally. Chest heaving up and down with his laughs, you step back confused and honestly a bit scared, thoughts running with a million different theories that you may have said something wrong, or stepped on a mine in a minefield.

You shakily let out a whisper of his name, a silent question towards his weird sudden behaviour and he finally looks up from position. He looks indescribably tired, with dark circles almost permanent on his skin, and beautiful azure eyes dimmed to a dark greyish soulless colour and weirdly enough he's grown a little moustache. He wears a smile on his face, a crazy smile, almost as if he's about to unleash everything that's been tormenting him.

His laughter dies down into chuckles as he begins standing to face you at eye level. His eyes portray an emotion of disgust and hatred? no, no, that doesn't make any sense, you didn't do anything but help.

"The reason I don't want you to see me like this is because you don't deserve to. You're fucking pathetic, y/n" He begins and you already want to close your ears to block out the impending doom he's about to throw at you. He runs a hand through his hair and smiles a very dark smirk almost as if he's proud of what he's about to say.

"Eren, what's going on, this isn't funny" you relay to him, clear that you don't like whatever he's doing.

"No, but you know what is funny? the fact that you think you're this angel who comes to rescue us and give us a hand when everything goes wrong all in the name of 'friendship'" You're confused as fuck, not knowing what trigged this attack on you, you don't know where he's going with this and you're damn sure don't like it. He walks closer to you causing you to take a step back each time, not fond of the glint in his eyes.

"But in reality, you're just this pathetic stuck-up lowlife who seeks approval in everything that moves because poor little y/n didn't get attention from her pwecious father" He mocks never halting his steps as he walks and walks until you're backed against a wall. You can't believe the words you're hearing, did he do drugs?, because this seems nothing like him. Sure you could excuse the first two sentences but his words dig hard at you. It's almost as if he's purposefully trying to aim at your weak spots to get you hurt.

"Don’t tell me you actually thought we liked you, sweetheart?"

He continues laughing but more quietly this time, never stopping walking towards you and you swear you see the way his eyes glint changed at the drop of your tears that escaped your eye traveling down to your cheek from hatred to sorrow. You never meant to cry, and you never do, you always did it alone, and even in silent moments where it was just you and the wind, you couldn’t bring yourself to cry, scared of being vulnerable. But he hit so hard that you're unconsciously crying, as if your heart can't stand the words and wants to burst open from your chest and sob on the ground.

"Must be an idiot then, so fucking dense of you honestly. I thought you'd realize that we only kept you around because you’re tolerable." There's no stopping the tears, you've accepted that you can't stop them but you'll be damned if you don't speak up and put him in his place. The way he words his venom-laced attack makes everything even worse, as he makes it seem like you’re a pet and not an actual human being.

“Yeah, that’s right. Even that dumbass Connie doesn’t like you and that’s so fucking rich because he likes everyone!” Eren exclaims hands in the air as if he’s so bewildered that you never noticed this. Your expression morphs into a confused one because that’s obviously a lie. You and Connie are good friends, you are roommates, you sometimes help him out with his YouTube ideas and you share everything and Eren seems to acknowledge your disbelief and quickly grabs his phone from the rugged couch.

“Oh, you’re gonna love this one, for sure.” He says searching for something on his phone as he can’t wait to prove you wrong. He seems to have found it and placed it right in your face. Playing the recording audio from the date that says [00/00/0000], your birthday.

Man, I can’t fucking stand y/n, like I get that she has her own ideas but does she fucking think I’m gonna let her dictate my passion. What a bitch. Fuck dude, sometimes I wish she was dead, life would be less depressing. But noooo, I have to celebrate her stupid birthday and sacrifice my precious time for a bitch.

You start laughing, amazed at how everything was so blatantly obvious as you start to remember all the incidents you brushed away because you deemed ‘you were taking things too personally’ but your gut was right, no one likes you. And with this, it was clear, that you had no place, no belonging, in this particular friend group. All those times they acted mean and disguised it as playful joking and ‘this is how all friends treat each other, cheer up’. You were so fucking blind. You should be thanking Eren for opening your eyes to this truth not blaming him for hurting you. You idiot.

“Do you get it now, y/n?” He asks as you finally look up from the ground and into his eyes. His eyes have changed again, they look like they’re filled with lust? As if you were having an intimate moment and this was totally normal. As if everything was fine.

“Yeah, thanks,” you say, deciding to not show any more weakness in front of him. He doesn’t deserve your vulnerability, he doesn’t deserve to have your expectations of comfort, he’s not your friend…. anymore.

"Don’t thank me, you're such a fucking.." he scoffs as he waves his finger around as if looking for the word.

"You can stop now" is all you can mutter and even that comes across with a strained voice. This wasn't Eren. Or perhaps it is but you were too delusional and made up your own version of an actual human being.

"Doormat" he finishes.

And with that, you push him back and call for Jean, who happens to stand outside scrolling on his phone. Jean, startled by the sudden noise, runs inside, scared shitless by how hurt that scream sounded. It felt as if it came from a place of such deep agony and aching.

"Yeah, well guess what y/n? he’s no better, he feels the exact same way as we all do, will you also try to steal him too?" He smirks, hinting at something the both of you know about. He's suggesting that you'll steal him because Mikasa has a long-time crush on Jean. The look on Eren's face is pure evil as he watches the tears fall from your face and your face morphs into a 'how could you' and 'I would never' expression.

Jean examines the scene, sees you crying, and immediately thinks the worst.

"Did you fucking touch her, Jaeger?"

"He didn't" you manage, wiping the tears from your face, not wanting to create any more tension between the two men. "I'm fine, I'm just being dramatic"

"No, no. Tell him why you called him for" Eren instigates crossing his arms, making his muscles flex, and leaning against the couch.

You glare at him, hating the way he says your name, and smirks as if y’all are having small talk. You can’t describe how you’re feeling, you decide to push back everything you feel at this moment to the very back of your head. You need to hear him out first.

“Eren here says that you can’t stand me,” you say looking at Jean to see any change of expression in his eyes and you do. His eyes falter for a bit before switching back to normalcy.

“Is that true?” You continue finishing off your question.

Jean looks down almost as if he doesn’t know how to answer the question. As if there’s some sort of truth to what Eren said. You can’t believe this, this must be some sort of vivid sick nightmare filled with your greatest insecurities- being tolerable.

“Listen y/n. Everyone has their own opinions, right? Sure I didn’t like you back then when you were too clingy and you joined in every single conversation and made yourself belong in places you clearly didn’t.” He starts and you swear you begin hating yourself. You just came here early to help Eren out with his apartment problem and his mental issues, all you wanted was the best for him, for all of them. But now you just had to find out that they all hate you. Every single one of them, and it’s all your fault. What should you do? Beg for them to like you back? Get on your knees and sacrifice your dignity and self-respect if you ever had any? No, you decide, you’ve had enough.

“But now I see the beauty in that, I really came to like you, I like how caring you are, how kind and beautiful you are. How you treat everyone with respect regardless of who they are, how they look, their background, or their flaws. You accept everyone and try to love them within their cracks, you pick them apart gently and lovingly sew them back together. You truly are wonderful and I misjudged you.” Jean finishes and Eren scoffs in between his sentences giving him a nasty side eye before commenting. Eren hates how this dumbass makes himself see better in this situation when he's just bad, all he wants from you is your sexual appeal.

“She’s not gonna let you hit, horse face. So how about you stop the whole act” Eren growls at Jean's attempt of saving any ounce of relationship with you.

“Y/n, I swear I didn’t lie,” Jean says completely ignoring Eren’s comment and looking for any sign of forgiveness on your face. He realises the severity of the situation, and wants to tell you more to convince you that he'd never think that way.

You’ve had enough. You’re tired of not being loved, tired of waiting for people to see that you are special, that you deserve everything good in this world. That you are y/n and that if others can’t seem to love you, that’s on them, they missed out. You promise internally to yourself that you will NOT ever be just tolerable, and that if you ever make friends again, they’d have to know that upfront, and that you won’t settle for being treated as some sort of doormat. You are lovable, cherishable, and treasurable and just because some stupid friend group you were a part of for the entirety of your childhood doesn’t think so doesn’t change those facts. They don’t deserve you.

“You didn’t realize shit, Kirstein” you begin and Jean is taken aback by the use of his last name, no one uses his last name to address him. It feels like you’re trying to sever all ties with him as if you want to go back to when you were strangers and he hates that, he hates this feeling.

“All of you are fucking knuckleheads, and I don’t give a fuck whether or not you like me because I liked you!” You shout, anger flowing through your veins as you point at Eren and he looks unfazed.“ I liked you and that’s all that matters, I made the decision to ignore everything y’all did because I cherished you. And if that doesn’t show something to you about who I am, then my god, you are fucking blind” you continue wanting to get everything off your chest.

“Not one sane human being would ever tolerate this behavior from people they love, people they consider their beloved, people they cherish. Because love goes both ways. You treating me like shit, says that y’all ain’t worth my time. Not me ain’t worth yours. Y’all fucked up, and you did it big time.” 

“It’s so funny how selfless I am, I came here early from my constant worry for the last month on a trip that I was looking forward to SO much only to immediately come back early to check up on your wellbeing and get this treatment” 

“I want you to remember this clearly, Jaeger” you warn taking steps closer to him to point in his face as he rolls his eyes and leans against the wall, still unfazed.

“This will be the last time I take shit from anyone, not even from you. I held you so close to my heart, convinced myself that this was just how you were, plain mean, boring ol’ Jaeger. But fuck that shit and most importantly fuck y’all”

You observe the room around you, the only person who actually realizes the severity of the situation is Jean. He has his head down fidgeting with his phone which seems chipped from the side when you abruptly yelled his name before. Eren scoffs and rolls his eyes at everything you say, he looks straight at you in your eyes as if he’s in the right. You laugh quietly, amazed at how everything turned out. You walk towards the door of the apartment and take one last look behind you.

“It was nice loving all of you, at least I didn’t regret that” you admit before heading outside and taking your keys with you. No one follows behind you and you’re so glad you didn’t expect them to because that’s all people do nowadays, disappoint your expectations of them.

You feel this sense of relief and take a nice deep breath, you feel… free? You feel free of the restraints of trying to please everyone, free from constantly worrying about others, you’re set on a new path now, pleasing yourself, innuendo intended you think as you chuckle out loud.

You somehow can’t wait, everything seems set in plan. The reason you wanted to come back early was a mixture of worry but also excitement. You finally got accepted to your dream university which happens to be a continent away and you were so excited to tell Eren first while you got him all sorted out. You’ve already packed your bags and you’ve booked your ticket. You might have to make it more early though, as things didn’t turn out great. At first, you decided that you’d delay the flight at least for a month so that you could properly bid goodbye to your friends. But since you never had any, you can enjoy booking it earlier.

Is it wrong to feel happy at not telling them, nah, you think. They brought it upon themselves, now all that’s left to do is to stay at a hotel to avoid your roommate, Springer, and wait the final days in the hotel before leaving this city forever and live your life to the fullest.

notes: yeahh i think i went a lil overboard lmao, i might make this a series or maybe not. idk let me know what you think and we'll go from there. do ya'll want y/n living her best life?? thanks for reading til the end. i think the last minutes of instrumental of beabadoobee's 'perfect pair' really captures the last part of this well.

divider credits: @hitobaby

#-͟͟͞☆and you're reading the latest euorian's documents-͟͟͞☆ #୨୧・euorian-pdf・୨୧ #eren x reader #jean kirstein x reader #connie springer #connie x reader #aot #mikasa #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #angst #aot angst #eren angst #eren jaeger #jean kirschstein #jean kirstein #eren yeager #eren jeager x you #eren jeager x y/n #eren jeager x reader #eren yaeger x reader #mean eren

[brittscafe]

hiii! i really really really like REALLY loved your content, especially jjk ones bcs it helps me A LOT with my sadness while watching S2 lolll

can i request a fic?? nanami x fem!reader - reader starts overthinking about their relay with nanami that seemed distant rn bcs nanami always comes back home late with his constant overtime BUT nanami doesn't notice about it. so, one night there's just an argument about this and nanami accidentally slips off 'i never ask you to stay with me' in which hurts reader A LOT - eventually leads nanami to his realization and they finally make up when they're about to sleep (nanami saying sorry while hugging from behind and asking reader to snuggle with him)

i'm sorry if there's too much angst 😭 and i'm sorry if there are grammatical errors since eng isn't my first language 🙏🏻 but i really hope you will take this into consideration hehe

Hi! Thank you!!! <3 Really missing Nanami rn 😩 Sorry, this literally took me forever to writeeee

Nanami Kento is the hardest worker you know. He's always staying late at work and doing overtime. He doesn't seem to notice how it effects you though.

The endless nights you stay awake, sitting at the counter and your foot repeatedly tapping the ground below your, your right leg shaking rapidly.

The nervous build up in your stomach that makes you nauseous and your head spin. Of course, Nanami always comes home to you, but he's distant and you can't hide the way you feel any longer.

The front door clicks open and Nanami's tall figure walks inside, a deadpan expression on his face.

"Hey Nanami...can we talk?" you speak up quietly. Nanami's eyes meet yours for a split second and his breath hitches in his throat.

"Sure," he nods his head, setting his suitcase down. You shift your weight in the chair that you're sitting in and clear your throat.

"I have to be honest, I'm a little upset with you. You constantly work overtime and I stay up all night waiting up for you," you sigh out and Nanami cocks an eyebrow.

"You don't have to wait up for me. I've told you that multiple times, y/n. You know that I work late," Nanami explains with a firm voice that brings you little to no comfort.

"I know, but I feel like I'm being treated unfairly. I wish you would spend more time with me after work, especially since I spend most of mine time here alone. It's not fair," you explain, a frown tugging on your face.

Nanami shifts his weight and crosses his arms over his chest.

"I never asked you to stay with me." his words are cruel and cut into your feelings like a sharp knife. Your eyes widen and your mouth gapes open.

Wow.

You stare at Nanami in disbelief and the tears start to well up in your eyes. You tear your gaze away from Nanami and lower your head down, trying to swallow your hurt.

"Ok," you mumble out underneath your breath, walking off and into your bedroom.

Nanami blinks with confusion and clears his throat, shaking it off as he sits down on the couch. His mind ponders on what he did wrong as he chews on his bottom lip.

A heavy sigh falls from his lips and he runs his fingers through his hair with frustration.

An hour or so passes and it's bedtime. The door clicks open to your shared bedroom and Nanami's eyes lock onto you in your pjs. You glance over at him over your shoulder as you pull back the comforter.

The room is silent and Nanami clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

"Y/n," he calls out, his voice barely above a whisper. You easily hear his voice, but ignores it. Nanami steps closer to you, clearing his throat.

"Y/n," he speaks again, this time his voice louder and clearer. You glance over at him, curling the comforter up in your fists and letting out an annoyed sigh.

"What?" you mumble out.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier. It just slipped out," Nanami speaks calmly and you chew on your bottom lip.

"I thought you didn't want me to stay with you," you scoff quietly, scowling back at him. Nanami face drops and he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your waist.

He pulls your back into your chest and nuzzles his head onto your shoulder. You can feel his warm breath on your neck and it sends a chill down your spine.

"I'm sorry, my dear. I do want you to stay with me. I promise," he speaks softly, his voice comforting you. You release the tight grip that you have on the comforter and grab onto Nanami's forearms.

"Ok," you nod your head.

"Do you forgive me? Please? You know I can't go to bed without you," Nanami begs you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. You giggle as his lips tickle your skin and the sound of your laughter makes Nanami's lips curl up into a tiny grin.

"Yes, I forgive you, Kento. Come here," you whisper, spinning around and gathering him in your arms. Nanami's arms wrap around your back and flatten against them.

You run your fingers through his blonde hair, massaging his scalp as you two fall back into the bed. Nanami's legs are spread out across the bed as he lays on top of you, his head resting on your chest.

He listens to the rhythm of your steady heartbeat as you warm hands running up and down his back make his eyelids heavy.

He's so thankful for you and that you spend so much time with you and staying up late.

Nanami asks you to move in with him a few days later...

#nanami kento #nanami kento x you #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami my beloved #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #fluff #fluffy angst #nanami jjk #nanami x you #nanami fluff #jjk fluff #jjk kento #kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Hypno Handyman Inc.

So I got this idea about a week ago: what if I used some hypnosis to help my failing repair business. See, all of today's young men are afraid of getting their hands dirty, and it's been impossible to hire any of those pansies. So I thought, 'Why not hypnotize them instead?'

This is Tim and Jim. They're identical twins, but I made Jim shave his head so I could tell them apart. Wait, maybe that was Tim. I don't remember, but it doesn't matter anymore! What's important is that they've been thoroughly hypnotized. Just look at the dopey grins they always have on!

These brothers were once my neighbors, back when they were influencers or something. I'm not really sure what they did for work, but now they are actually contributing members of society. I did them some good, bringing them under my control. Now they actually enjoy all the long hours and hard menial labor.

"Go ahead and tell 'em what your doing, boys!"

"Sure, boss," Tim answers brightly, "Jim and I are just grabbing some tools for a job. Mrs. Jones has a leaky pipe again."

"This is the third time this month." Jim explains with a blank smile.

I chuckle and shake my head. Mrs. Jones, the retired widow, was almost definitely just calling so she could oggle these young men as they tinker with a problem she made up. She's definitely wasting my employees' time, but I don't mind as long as she keeps paying.

"Just remember your new mantra, boys," I check.

Their bodies stiffen as they robotically relay what I taught them, "We work for you. We are your handymen. We work hard, stay humble, and always respect our client and our boss."

"That's right," I beam with pride, "Go ahead and unbutton your uniforms, boys. If Mrs. Jones wants a show, you're gonna give her one."

"Yes, boss!" they declare, smiling as they loosen their shirts before packing their tools in the truck.

They used to have a real attitude problem: thought awfully highly of themselves since they were 'TickTock famous' or whatever. Obviously, that was the first thing I corrected in their personalities. Tim and Jim are now just the perfect humble and eager-to-please workers they should be. I don't think I've seen them drop those stupid smiles in weeks!

This here is Rodrigo. He used to be a model or something, which meant he had practically no skills or common sense to begin with. At least his simple mind was super easy to hypnotize. I tried programming a bunch of common knowledge about plumbing or mechanics in that head of his, but it never stuck. That's why I always have him doing the simple heavy lifting.

"What's up, Rigo! Working hard?"

"Yes, boss," he reports with a heavy breath, "I'm just hauling the fresh supplies into the garage."

"Glad, I can count on you, boy," I clap him on his shoulder, pleased to find his hard work soaking into his uniform, "It's hard work, but someone's gotta do it!"

"Yes, boss," he agrees, and turns his head to the floor as he gets back to it.

I doubt that boy ever had a hard day of work before he met me. He didn't have a shred of real muscle on him when I found him. The only thing his pretty arms could carry were a bunch of shopping bags from the mall.

He threw all that fancy attire away after I had him under trance. I think those clothes on his back are the only thing he owns now. It's not like any of my guys need something nice to wear. They're just my handymen, after all, and I intend to milk their hard-working asses for all their worth.

This last guy is my newest recruit. He came crawling to me when he got fired at his last job. His name is Cameron, and he's been quite a handful. Out of all the idiots I've hypnotized so far, he's been able to resist the most.

He's still thoroughly under my control, but I can't seem to control his thoughts like I can with the other guys. That's why I have him doing all the nastiest jobs. Hopefully it'll break that strong will of his!

"Hey, Cammy," I call.

"Don't call me that!" he snaps, "I'm not your damn puppet like those other freaks!"

His words have venom in them, but his body doesn't seem to agree. His head stays bowed in a mock of submission as he diligently searches the supply closet.

"What you lookin' for, Cammy?" I ask.

"The fucking plunger! You've got me on clogged toilet duty, remember?" he growled in frustration, "How long are you going to keep me doing this?"

"There's a lot of people who aren't willing to clean their shitters," I explain, "And you'll keep doing it as long as people will pay!"

I let out a sigh as Cameron continues to get more and more frustrated. Despite his radical glare, his body can't stop searching for that plunger.

"It's in the bathroom," I finally admit, "Go ahead and kiss each of our shitters while your in their."

Cameron's face twists in disgust as his body obediently marches past me, carrying him to our company restroom. He's clearly angry beyond words for being made to degrade himself once again. One day I'll get him to see me as a respectable employer just like the rest of the guys do. It's only a matter of time.

"Hey Cammy!" I call before he leaves, "Don't forget about tonight. You remember what we discussed yesterday, right?"

Despite all his internalized rage, his eyes glaze over as my hypnotic instructions kick in, "I'm on house duty. I will cook, serve, and clean up dinner for you and the rest of the men. I will be ready to give massages and showers to you and the rest of the men. I will not let myself relax until you and the rest of the men have no need of me. I will be on house duty every night forever, until you say otherwise."

"That's right," I smile in amusement, "Carry on!"

His vacant stare melts away, and he quickly adopts his trademark glare. His hands ball into fists like he's about to fight back, but he just turns and walks down the hallway. I chuckle at the idea of him in that empty bathroom, angrily kissing each of our toilet seats.

I put aside Cameron's defiance and relish just how far my repair business has gone. Not only am I making a ton more money than when it was just me, but I also have a whole flock of guys to keep me company. Even though they are all products of a weaker generation, I am well on my way towards turning each of them into real men like myself.

Already, I have Tim, Jim, and Rodrigo sipping beers and watching football with me after work everyday. I'll tell you that none of those boys enjoyed either of those things before they met me. Eventually, I'll have them genuinely laughing at all my jokes too!

Whether or not Malcolm comes around, is honestly unimportant. As long as he keeps up the disrespect, I'll keep him in the worst jobs and the longest hours.

I'm telling you, hypnotizing your employees is the way to go! So, let me know if you need any help getting your workers under your control. Or just let me know if you need a good old-fashioned handyman to fix something for you!

My boys will do anything as long as you fork over some cash...

#gay hypnosis #hypno story #gay mind control #mind control #hypnotized #male transformation #blue collar

[daydreamvalley]

October Sunsets (1) - nanami kento

𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 Summary: You daydream about a sweet conversation you had earlier in the day with Nanami, right before he left for a job in Shibuya.

Content: Fluff + slight angst

7:00 pm, October 31st, Haneda Airport, sounds of passengers trying to find their seats and infants crying filled the air while you sat in a frozen state, looking down at your phone screen with furrowed brows. The single ticks next to your images still stared back at you. Pending. It had been ten minutes, yet he was not owning up to his part of the request he made. Nanami asked for two images, one containing evidence of the bread he recommended you try at the airport cafe. The other is a photo of your choice, just not a picture of yourself since you'll already be bombarding him with plenty throughout the flight. 

Your second undelivered message read: "Bossy much? Here you go, it's a pretty sunset, don't you think?" 

In your opinion, it was. It was taken while facing a large airport window that gave you a view of the departing planes. The autumn sky was free of clouds, with only clear hues of orange and purple in the image. Its quality made up for the previous blurry bread photo. Exhaling in defeat, you accepted that he may have begun the big task he hinted at having to do that evening. Denmark was fifteen hours away. You'd hoped to depart in a better mood after an anticipated message from your ex-coworker making fun of your poor photography skills. Even two grey ticks would suffice. Your cheeks started to warm just at the thought of his teasing, but you couldn’t let your mind wander or else you wouldn’t stop. Turning to your right, you realized your isle seat was going to be empty, freeing whichever lucky soul from witnessing the nightmare of you smiling at yourself alone. Though, he didn’t deserve that much since you should be upset with him. After shutting off the power on the phone, annoyingly shoving it into your tote bag, and then letting out a scoff, the last bit of your parting conversation with him suddenly replayed in your mind. 

~ 

The two of you walked side by side on the pavement to your apartment building, “Did you pack the neck pillow?” He had already begun interrogating. 

“The one that you bought for me. Now imagine the drama if I forgot it.” 

“I’m the only person who owns your extra apartment key, so try not to forget anything. Shoko wants me on call later tonight, and I most likely won’t get your messages. 

“Okay, but you keep dismissing what I asked earlier. Are you sure there’s nothing you’re curious about in Denmark that you want me to relay to you while I’m there?”

“Nothing my family hasn’t already told me. At this age, I only care to know that I have lineage there. I doubt anyone related to me in Denmark knows I exist. I'm also a sorcerer, and jujutsu sorcery is a shitstorm. Can I ask that you bring me lots of pastries?” 

“I could run into your distant cousin and you’re still thinking about bread.” You stop mid-walk to face him in disbelief. Still curious as to how he could address such a deep part of himself like it's an uninteresting topic. 

“I'm not curious about it. Baking, on the other hand. Where do I even begin? Is the bakery outside your office building still there? Nothing will compare to that place. Expensive but it was worth it.” Nanami asks, stopping your walk to the entrance of your apartment building to pull out his cell phone.

“It’s not a historical monument. Of course, it’s still there.” 

“Then I’ll replace your presence in the cafe while you're away. The leather couch in the back corner is still your favorite right?” He was now taking pictures of the bright dawn above him.

“Replacing me also means talking to my coworkers. Your ex-coworkers.”

He cringed at the idea, “Hmm. You were the only person I talked to there.” 

You giggle at the current visual of him leaning back like a photographer with one eye closed. “Exactly. You can admit you miss your bread. Don’t use me as an excuse. Also, the sky isn’t that pretty at this time why’d you take a picture?” 

“If it feels right to me, I snap the photo. Not thinking too much about it at the time makes looking back at it more special.” He firmly states while he showed you the image. “It’s a feeling.”

“Don't take offence, but I’m not sure I get it.” You give a sheepish smile, honestly wishing you could understand his vision.

“None taken. It’s nothing complicated. Try it today. When you have a gut feeling that your memory won’t serve you in the future when you reminisce about a specific day, document it with the sky.” He advises while slipping the phone back into his cream-white blazer's inner pocket. “Send them to me too. I’ll create a folder for our sunsets.” 

“That doesn’t seem fair. You get pastries, sunsets, and travel photos. I want more than a folder in your camera roll when I return.” You sternly said, with your hands on your hips, but quickly lost your confident stance when the brisk air pricked your bare arms, causing a full-body shiver.

Nanami maintained eye contact while removing his blazer to snug it around your shoulders. 

“You’re right. How about a date then?”

Your eyes widened. For the new warmth that blanketed your skin and the fact that he had finally said it. The one word you’ve been yearning to hear from him since you started spending time together after he left the insurance company. The event that could lift the barrier. The barrier which maintained your label as his good friend. An ex-colleague. Turning the potentially one-sided crush you’ve had on him into a mutual pursuit. 

“Not at the bakery.” You mentally slap yourself for being so quick to respond. Thinking you had removed all the chances to come off as cool. 

A deep, raspy chuckle left his body, “No. Not the bakery. I’ll worry about the location. You just show up the same as always, lovely and perfect. The experience will be befitting of you.” 

“If you say so.” You bashfully comment. Not being able to meet his eyes, you lifted a hand to playfully shove his arm, but he gently held it in place. 

With the same gentle manner, he interlocked your fingers. His swift action made you ponder, whether the blazer was doing its job or the brown eyes beaming at you was increasing your body temperature. 

Softly grazing his fingers across your knuckles, he brought the back of your hand to his lips. Placing a tender kiss. 

“Don’t become a stranger.”

“Impossible.”

~ 

11:14 pm, October 31st, somewhere in the air. 

A hand tugged on the cream-white blazer you used as a blanket, succeeding at waking you up from a nap.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. I’m delivering the next meal to you now.” The soft-spoken flight attendant apologized. She placed the tray on the vacant tray table. 

Almost forgetting where you were, you half sleepily heartened to her, “It’s not a problem. Thank you.” 

Barely looking in the right direction, it took a couple of seconds, paired with an infant's cries to recall your location. 

I’m not suffering again. Where are my EarPods?

Digging into the blazer pockets, you felt a heavy metal. Shit. The weight of your heart had become heavier. The chances of you shitting yourself were on par with the crying infant on the plane. You might have just ruined the chances of having your first date with Nanami. 

You hijacked the guy’s phone. Any audacity you thought you had to be frustrated with him for not responding to your texts instantly vanished. 

Okay! First time writing a longer piece so be nice.

Will probably do a part two if anyone wants it!

Edit: we did it (Part 2)

This is rough idea so let me know what details I can articulate better.

It’s also on Ao3, if you would prefer to continue the rest there!

#jujutsu kaisen #nanami fluff #nanami angst #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #jjk shibuya arc #jjk moodboard #nanami headcanons #nanami imagines #nanami scenarios #nanami fanfic #nanamin #shoko ieiri #jjk manga #nanami x reader #nanami x black!reader #jjk fluff #jjk anime #jjk #jjk x reader #ao3

[apomaro-mellow]

Here, take a lil ficlet of Kas flirting with Steve while sharing Eddie's body.

"You're not Eddie", Steve breathed out as they stalked towards him.

"Oh I'm him alright. I am all that he tried to hide away. His shame, his fear...his desires."

"You're not real."

Steve swung his bat, sure that this was another one of Vecna's illusions. Sure that this vision of Eddie would either disappear in a mist or reveal itself to actually be Vecna. Anything other than one of his greatest regrets. Instead, not-Eddie caught the nailed end in his hand no problem.

"I'm as real as anything."

When Steve pulled away, not-Eddie let him.

"But if it makes things...easier, you don't have to call me Eddie." He stalked towards Steve. "You could call me...hmm, Kas." Then he grinned like he had just said a joke.

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

"Kas?", Dustin repeated.

"That's what he said", Steve relayed, still reeling from the experience. "That mean anything?"

Dustin looked to Will. "Holy shit."

"Holy shit", Will echoed.

Then they both started to scream and jump and Steve felt like he was losing his mind.

Meanwhile, Eddie was sure he had lost his mind. There was no other explanation for being trapped in his own body while some demonic entity walked around in it and allowed him to get lectured by Mike and Lucas while tied to a chair.

"Do we have a deal?", Mike asked.

The deal was, 24 hour supervision, controlling what he ate, and absolutely no killing. Oh and no conferring with Vecna or the Mind Flayer unless explicitly asked to. Eddie would've agreed in seconds if it meant he could be free. But Kas thought he had more leverage than that.

"Do I get to choose my bodyguard?", he asked, just as Steve and the others came up from the basement. "Because I'd like Hawkins' number 1 babysitter."

Steve stared like a deer in headlights and then looked around as if making sure he meant him. With very little effort, Kas broke through his restraints and walked up to Steve, ignoring the shouts and how the others backed away from him. But Steve stood his ground.

"I know Eddie would prefer it this way."

What he would prefer was if a hole could swallow him up. Which was sort of his situation anyway. He was stuck in a dark hole. Problem was he was still witnessing everything first hand, right down to Kas twirling a lock of Steve's hair around his finger.

So if someone could just actually end him now, that would be great.

Hey I went and made a part 2

#apo writes #fanfiction #stranger things #steddie #kas!eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #idk what this is #im just throwin it into oblivion

[ddollfface]

Hi! I read your alphabet about yandere!athlete and I loved! I also become curious: you said he needed maintain the popular facade in front of others, right? Being cool and a womanizer and other things. My question is: has he ever betrayed the reader while doing that? A kiss? Sex? How does he maintain that image while in a relationship with reader?

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

Trigger Warnings; bad writing, reader is described as yandere’s girlfriend, um nothing this is really tame tbh If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ I really liked this anon request! I had never really thought about this before lol, but I think the idea of LoveSick!Athlete defending his relationship to be so cute! Anyways, thanks so much for requesting something! If you have any more questions/thoughts, then just ask)))

Ooo, that's a really good question anon!

So, to answer your question, I need to refer back to things I've said in the past. LoveSick!Athlete makes your relationship known, extensively. Honestly, his teammates will likely know so, so, so much about you, even before you've met. This is cause he'll tell everyone and anyone about your interests; what your favorite food is, whether you like to swim or not, etc.

And he'll make it clear that the two of you are in a committed relationship. Now, this doesn't stop chicks from going up to him and openly flirting with him, even though he's made his relationship status clear. We all know that there are some... determined girls out there, and he seems to attract all of them. It's a big university, after all.

LoveSick!Athlete won't lie, he finds their advances annoying, seeing as he only has eyes for you, you, you, but he has a reputation to uphold, meaning that he'll entertain them, much to your annoyance. Depending on how long you've known each other, seeing as I've drabbled on a childhood friend version of reader, LoveSick!Athlete's reaction and response will vary.

The first reaction is to go along with whatever the girl's requesting, wanting to just get the interaction over with while keeping his reputation intact. He'll nod along with whatever the girl's saying, sweet talk her a little, but all his words don't mean anything. They're just a bunch of empty promises and flirtatious remarks, nothing from the heart. Mind you, LoveSick!Athlete is subconsciously comparing the girl to you.

All he can think of is how you're so, so, so much better than her. How your smile is so much sweeter, softer, and pleasing on the eyes, his eyes. How your clothes are appealing and bring out your own charm, something he's always loved about you. How your perfume isn't overbearing, like hers, or how it's light and matches you perfectly. All of these comparisons pop up in his mind and it just makes him bitter, wishing that he wasn't talking to this girl and instead laying in bed with you, loving you.

Eventually, if the girl tries to get in his pants, he'll wave her off, passing her to one of his, not-as-attractive, friend/s. Of course, he'll make sure that she's willing and actually interested in his friends, not wanting the girl to feel forced into anything. But he isn't talking to her anymore, and he'll relay that information in the nicest way he can. After all, it's possible that the girl doesn't know that he has an amazing girlfriend waiting for him.

He'll be humble; tell the girl that he's sure that one of his friends would be a much better fit for her. That he's too rowdy for her, after all, she's such a sweetheart, he's sure. His friend Chui (just thought of a random name lol) is a real pleaser, you'll see, he tells the girl. And he'll play matchmaker, paring the, now confused, girl with his appciative friend (who's cool with the turn of events).

LoveSick!Athlete has set up so many of his friends and teammates as a way of getting out of hooking up with some random girl.

Then there's the second reaction he'd have, and this one is if he's been with you for a long time (like a year or more). At this point, in your relationship, everyone, and I mean everyone, knows that you're together. There's no way that they couldn't. This means, that if a girl tries to get with him they're actively trying to get him to leave you, or they're new, which is far less likely.

The latter is the more common option, seeing as you're with LoveSick!Athlete every waking day. There's no way a girl couldn't know that you're his girl. And, let's just say, that LoveSick!Athlete isn't too pleased that someone trying to get between your relationship, but, of course, he has a public image to maintain.

To avoid his name being tarnished, he'll play into the lovesick boyfriend stereotype. He'll tell the girl that he's sure she's a great girl, that she'd be a wonderful girlfriend, he'd say with gritted teeth. The idea of calling another girl wondering makes his nose scrunch in disgust, especially since they don't even compare to you, you, you.

Then he'll drop the bomb, that they may or may not know, saying that he's got you, his girl, at home. That you're the girl of his dreams, someone he's been waiting for his whole life. Of course, the girl will swoon, finding his loyalty to be just adorable. And this will change the topic to how great of a boyfriend he is, how you must be so lucky to have someone like him. He'll stay humble, of course, not wanting to see too stuck up. He's gotta stay right in the in-between.

LoveSick!Athlete will rub his neck, faining a blush as he refuses the girl's compliments. How he's the lucky one, that you're such a good girlfriend, better than he'd ever imagine. And if his buddies are there, they'll smack him on the shoulder, teasing him for being a simp or some crap. After that, everyone would completely forget about the girl trying to hook up with him, just what he wanted.

Anyways! That's what I think would happen in this scenario/s. LoveSick!Athlete is a very, very, very loyal man, something I personally find endearing. And he highly values loyalty in all of his relationships, both platonically and romantically. He holds both you and himself to the standard of loyalty.

He feels the same way about his family, too. He'd lie about murder if it meant keeping his sister/brother out of jail. He'd do anything, and I mean anything, for the ones he loves. It's a core value of his, and he would never waver on that front.

How sweet, don't cha think?

#𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡'𝙨 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 #𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚 #Lovesick #obsessive love #yandere x reader #yandere oc x you #bad writing #yandere x you #yandere male #x reader #yandere oc #reqs open

[diazsdimples]

Fuck It Friday!

Tagged by @theotherbuckley who's just uploaded her first smut fic!!! Go check it out!

I really did say "fuck it" today and started a new wip. Don't look at me. This one is forecast to be short and sweet though so check back with me in a couple of days when it's over 10k and consuming my life!

Buck wasn’t moping. Certainly not. He doesn’t mope. Not at all. Not even if it’s been a whole 24 hours since he last saw his boyfriend. The relationship is still new and exciting enough that he wants to spend all his time wrapped up in those strong arms and forget about everything except the soft lips pressed to his forehead. He doesn’t want to come across as clingy though. It’s always been a bit of an insecurity of Buck’s, that people will thing he’s a bit, well, much. So, instead of grabbing his phone and scrolling through his contacts until he finds his boyfriends number so he can call him and beg to come over, Buck throws himself on his couch and begins to aimlessly scroll through the daytime television options, until he finally settles on Married at First Sight. He's just gasping at the first dinner party (one of the brides stormed out in tears!) when his phone begins to buzz. Thinking that finally, finally, his beloved is calling and asking to hang out, Buck throws himself at his phone hands shaking with excitement as he turns it over and reads the caller ID. Christopher Diaz. Ah well, the next best thing it is then. “Hey, Chris!” Buck answers, trying not to let his initial disappointment show in his voice. He’s got all the time in the world for this kid, even if he’s becoming a moody teenager with a wit that’s as sharp as a whip, just like his father. “Hey Buck! Are you doing anything today?” Christopher’s voice is a little tinny through his phone’s speaker, cracking a little. It’s hard to tell if it’s the shitty service he sometimes gets if the wind is blowing in a funny direction, or if Christopher’s voice has started breaking. He suspects it’s the latter, based purely off the phone call he’d received a couple of days prior where Eddie had spent the entire call giggling down the phone about how Christopher had cracked a massive high during an argument about screen time. Buck hums, pretending to think. “Hmmmm, my diary looks pretty booked. Says right here that I’ve got to watch three episodes of crappy reality tv and then eat loads of fried chicken. I’m swamped.” “Buck,” Christopher says flatly and Buck laughs, loud and ringing through the loft. “I’m only kidding. What’s up, kid?” “The baby hippo has finally born at the zoo and we have to go see it! Can you come over today, please?” Buck can practically picture Christopher bouncing up and down with excitement as he relays this information. Despite months of insistence that he’s “too old for the zoo”, Christopher has been eagerly following their resident hippo’s pregnancy, sending Buck updates as fast as the zoo will come out with them. Really, he’s been grooming Buck for this trip for months. “What does your dad have to say about this?” Buck asks, already knowing the answer. “He says it’s fine as long as you’re up for it,” comes the reply, and Buck doesn’t miss the almost pleading edge to Christopher’s voice. “Pleaaaase, Buck? A baby hippo!” “Okay, okay, okay!” Buck laughs, hauling himself off the couch and collecting his keys. “I’ll be there in a moment.” Buck hangs up the phone and rushes around the loft to collect his keys, a hoodie and a bottle of water, all previous thoughts of despair about the lack of contact from his boyfriend gone from his mind at the prospect of seeing his two favourite people.

Tagging @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @puppyboybuckley @bucksbackwardcap @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @pirrusstuff @housewifebuck @daffi-990 @jesuisici33 @tizniz @wikiangela @steadfastsaturnsrings @buckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @rainbow-nerdss @kitteneddiediaz @elvensorceress @epicbuddieficrecs @smilingbuckley @thekristen999

#hi look I can write something other than smut or freezing boys #strap yourself in for a few thousand words of pure tooth rotting fluff #and baby hippos #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 buddie #911verse #911 fanfic #911 #eddie x buck #usercam

[tc-doherty]

Hey! In your practical writing tips - post you said novels require lots of telling. I've noticed this too when I read, amazing books that tell a lot vs. showing but all advice gears to show and that's what I've been learning to do. Since I can't find anyone that teaches when to tell vs. show and how much tell vs. show is right and why telling is good etc. I was wondering if you could elaborate on this? Why some books that tell a lot are very engaging and others can't keep my attention? I'm so interested to see your thoughts! Thank you.

Like I said in that post, teaching people how to write isn't really my jam so this is less a teaching guide and more just my assorted thoughts on the subject based on my own opinions and the habits that I follow.

I guess what it boils down to is this. You can't really say that either showing or telling is more important in a novel, but the things that you show are perhaps more relevant.

For example, if you describe the morning routine of your character in great detail every single morning, readers are going to get bored. The story will grind to a halt. Yes you're showing us that, which most people would say is a good thing based on "show don't tell", but the information isn't relevant. If you're setting up a fantasy or sci-fi story it might be relevant once or even twice to show us how things work, but not every single time.

Similarly, if your character gets news telling them that someone they love has perished, you don't want to simply say that it made them sad. You want to show us their reaction. What do they do? What do they say? What physical sensations do they have? Are they lightheaded, do they feel out of breath, does their throat hurt because they're trying not to cry? That information is all relevant to the character, the scene, and the reader. If you simply say they're sad, then your story feels too shallow.

Many people might consider dialogue a kind of telling, but really it's both. What the characters say, how they say it, and also what they don't say can show us a lot about who they are as a person, which is relevant information to the audience even if they're simply explaining something that would be considered exposition. But what do your characters actually need to say or hear? And what can you relay to us through something happening in the background, for instance?

And what about the genre? I like to write road trip novels, which means I spend a lot of time showing the minutiae of the journey. That's relevant because the story is the journey that's being taken. But sometimes your characters just have to get from one place to another, and you don't need to get bogged down in it. You can just say that they took a bus or boat or horse or whatever.

Balancing it in any given story is the writing equivalent of "this meeting could have been email". What do you actually have to get together in a conference room to discuss (show the readers in detail) versus what can be summarized in a few sentences in an email? What will make you bored out of your mind if you see too much of it, versus what will leave you lost and confused without it?

And of course just because something is telling or summarized doesn't mean that the way that you write isn't important! Your writing should still be engaging even when you're telling. Pay attention to the words you use, the rhythm of your sentences, the variety of sentence lengths, things like that. If something is pleasant to read it will keep the reader's attention on the page. If the sentence rhythms or lengths are too similar, it becomes "monotone" and causes people's attention to wander.

Something I pay special attention to is that - unless the narrator is subjective or unreliable - I don't tell something about characters in the narration which is shown to be false. Nothing gets me riled up like supposedly objective narration which tells me a character is like so and I should feel like this about them, but then their dialogue and actions reveal that to be patently false and I feel some other way. Of course that is something that relies on the narrator being objective and having access to more information than we do. If it's a POV character who might just be unobservant, overly arrogant, biased, or kinda stupid, that's fine

When it comes to showing versus telling in regards to the background/description...well. I struggle a lot with description because I have almost complete aphantasia and can't visualize things easily. So I cheat! Anything that I describe in detail is something that my POV character is actually paying attention to. The level of detail varies from book to book based on what kind of person has the POV and what sorts of things they notice. And again, that's relevant to the audience because it's information which is relevant to the character. This is also really great way to start building up to any kind of romantic interest, because people do tend to pay a lot more attention to people they're interested in!

I feel like this has gotten really long, so if there's anything that you would like me to elaborate on more or I wasn't clear about, feel free to send another ask! I won't say I'm objectively right (usually lol) but I'm always happy to talk shop.

Hopefully some of it can be helpful to you or at least give you some things to start thinking about. And of course, it's always a good way to start by studying books that you read and seeing what you like and what you don't like and how it's been handled in both.

#writeblr #writing #writing advice #thanks for the ask #I hope I could help :3