#me confronting her about it and she’s like I have no idea 🥺🥺🥺

[reiderwriter]

Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.

A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️

Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.

My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!

It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.

But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.

You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.

Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.

You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.

You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.

You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.

“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.

When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren’t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.

On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.

You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.

–X–

It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.

You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.

But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.

It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.

The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.

Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.

–X–

It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.

Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.

You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.

You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.

Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.

You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.

“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.

You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.

“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.

“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.

“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.

–X–

It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.

It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.

Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.

“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.

He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.

It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.

“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”

“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.

“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.

“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”

“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.

“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”

–X–

For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.

You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.

You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.

“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.

“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”

“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.

“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.

“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.

“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.

“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.

“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.

The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.

Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.

“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.

And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.

He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.

“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.

“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.

“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.

“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.

“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.

“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.

“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.

“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”

“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.

“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.

“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.

“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”

“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”

You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.

“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.

“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.

“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.

“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.

He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.

It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #criminal minds smut #requested #🥺 Anon

[readychilledwine]

Hi, I have a fic idea. So Beron has somehow found out that Eris is scheming against him but Beron just doesn't know what Eris' plan is. So the reader is basically told by Beron to get close to Eris to find out his plan. But as time passes by, Reader falls for Eris and can't bring herself to tell Eris' plan to Beron in the court room but Eris over hears the their conversation and confronts the reader. He also asks her why didnt she snitch on him so the reader tells him that she loves him too much to do that. Then reader is attacked by Beron's soldiers or you can end it however you like. If you don't wanna write it, then it's okay but just let me know what you think of it🥺.

I think this is amazing and a twist on what we normally see for this storyline idea.

Tainted Love

Warnings - torture. Beron, cliffhanger. Angst and anger. Betrayal.

"Do you want to tell me why I caught you with my father tonight or do you want me to find out on my own?"

You took a deep breath, looking to the ceiling for strength. It had already been a hard day dealing with Beron. The last thing you wanted to be doing was dealing with an angry Eris now, too.

"Can we talk about it in the morning, please? I just want to enjoy dinner."

Eris looked at you as if you had grown a second head. "Tell now, or I will let Azriel tell me why he sent me there."

You had to hold back your eye roll at the mention of the shadowsinger. Since Eris pulled you into his bargain with Rhysand, a shadow has trailed you. Following you and relaying your every move to the Inner Circle and Eris.

It was fair at first. You knew that deep down inside. You were one of Beron's more talented spies, used for situations where the males just weren't enough.

You were soft, gentle, beautiful. It was easy for people to open up to you, and that was why Beron had picked you for this over his other options.

He knew Eris was plotting and playing against him. He's known for years. He just needed to figure out how.

That was where you came in. Eris has an eye for you since the two of you were children. He had loved you since you were teens. Now, as adults, Eris was absolutely in love with you. He loved you from the soles of your feet to the soft curl of your hair and every flaw in-between.

You, having never known love or safety, had walls he'd been trying to take down the second you began approaching him on Beron's command. You have naively expected his efforts to fail, but one night as you two danced in his kitchen, you realized they hadn't.

You were helplessly in love with Eris.

And your mission had changed.

You had started giving Beron information while also exposing fae in the court Eris needed taken out.

The master of coin? You caught him steal from under Beron and Eris's noses, in a ploy of his own to wipe out the family as a whole. You watched him burned by your High Lord the second that information was tortured from him.

His second general, the one Eris hated, you turned in for hiding tithes and embezzling from his territory. He was given a traitors death, sent to the forest to become one with the trees, ripped down flesh and all by their roots.

Beron had caught on, though. Each interrogation proved each fae you turned in was not working with Eris, nor aware of his plan.

You could still feel his hand below your dress, resting in your ribcage just above your heart. He was on to you, and if you weren't smarter, you too might meet that dungeon and those trees.

Eris cleared his throat and brought you back to him. "Don't make me ask again, little fox. Please just tell me the truth."

You set everything down and stepped away from the table, ensuring there was space between you two. "Beron knows you're working against him," Eris's face dropped before schooling. "He's known for awhile."

"For how long?"

You looked up, tears starting to fall as you realized this would be the end.

The second you told him, there were no more nights in his arms. No more shared kisses. No more hushed I love yous.

But telling him put him another step ahead of Beron. You had already launched him impossibly ahead. Beron would only figure out his plan when it was too late, when Eris had already made that final move and Death reached a cool hand out to take Beron.

"Since after the war with Hybern. He found a letter from the shadowsinger in your office. He had another of his spies decode it."

Eris nodded, processing everything slowly before standing himself. "And how, y/n, do you know all of this?"

"He told me when he asked me to get close to you and figure out your plan."

The confession was a hanging. Eris stood there nodding before taking his whiskey in his hand and downing it. "So all of this wasn't real. All the nights whispering about our dreams? All the plans we made? This all meant nothing to you?"

"You mean everything to me," your voice broke. "At first, yes, I was doing my job. But I fell in love with you when I saw who you were. When I realized who you wanted to be to this Court. To our home. I never told him anything. I've been distracting him with information regarding males you wanted taken out anyways."

Eris shook his head, his own tears beginning to fall. "I don't believe you. I loved you. I fucking loved you and you did this to me? To us? Even if you were telling me the truth, how am I ever supposed to trust you now? How can I trust you to rule at my side?"

No answer came from you. You stared towards your boots in shame. "Azriel can tell you everything that was discussed. I know you all have a shadow trailing m-"

"Because Rhysand didn't fucking trust you!" Eris broke down into anger. All formality has left him as he pulled at his short hair and paced the dining room of your small home. "Rhysand did not trust you and I should have never trusted you either."

You watched as he grabbed his jacket, "I am done. Do not follow me. Do not come find me. When Beron is gone, you will leave this court or I will have you killed. Your choice."

You couldn't help but to look up, tears falling and stinging your face. "Eris, please, I love you."

He paused momentarily, resting his head on the doorway. "I wish I could believe that, y/n. I love you more than anything, I always have, and I probably always will. But you lied. You played me."

"I did my job so he wouldn't kill me," you turned away from him, having thought he of all fae would have understood.

"Maybe it would have been better off if he had." Eris left, slamming the door behind him.

The news of your breakup hit the courts quickly, too quickly for you to pack and leave.

Which is why you found yourself tied to a whipping post in Beron's private dungeon. He had sent some of his men for you, allowing them to best you before dragging your unconscious body here."Turns out your cunt isn't as powerful as you think it is, is it dear y/n?"

You didn't respond, knowing that would only make day 3 of this torture worse. "You had one job, and you failed me." You felt Beron's hand trail your back before grabbing the collar of your dress and ripping it down to bodice. "Such a shame, too. I find you absolutely exquisite. Maybe my son just has higher standards or different tastes than I do."

You didn't have time to prepare as the first lashing came, ripping your skin open and causing your mouth to fall open in shock. "How many do you think you deserve, y/n? Not only did you fail me. You also allowed him to bed you, losing all power and worth you may have thought you had to me, and what little information you did give me, while useful, never gave us an answer on my son's impeding betrayal." Another lashing had you crying out, body leaning against the pull as the cuts overlapped and merged together.

Beron ran his hand up your back again, knee digging into your spine as he pushed you into the whipping pole and put your hair up into a bun. "Do not fret, little doll. I won't leave marks where anyone besides me will be able to enjoy them if you survive."

You lost count of his strikes after 20. You couldn't even respond anymore to them. You felt Beron's chest against your back as he untied you, allowing you to fall to the ground, body too broke to hold itself up.

He left you there bleeding on the dirt, unable to move to clean the deep wounds or even take a proper breath.

The last thing you remembered seeing was a flash of wings and red hair, rushing to you as the world faded to black.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager

#acotar #acotar x reader #send anons #send asks #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n

[louebel]

Hi! Can I request fluff Law x fem!reader where reader is feels sick but tries to ignore it/do things on her own (she’s not used to ask for help) but as a doctor law easily can tell by the signs and it happens during their sea journey on the polar tang? Hope I’m not asking too much love ya 🥺

Feel free to add angst or anything else to your writing ^•^

this is super old and the only request i'll ever do (atm) since i had a wip— ANON SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER <\3 reader is gn since i used the second person and no description.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: trafalgar law × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 6,124 wc. a bit angsty, ends with fluff, emotional reader for the sickness, law is bad at emotions. this turned longer than expected, i hope it's decent xdd hit me up if there's any mistakes lol. supposed to be called windows of the soul,, divider by @ benkeibear my lord and saviour. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: sickness overtook your body and worsened your already pitiful situation. law has been ignoring you and you have no idea why... but with how you felt, there was no way you could confront him at the moment.

scrub, scrub, scrub... 

"... phew ..." 

scrub... poof! 

"Oh! — damnit — aargh..." 

Cleaning today has been a nightmare. Never been so tedious. 

Like, it was already uninteresting compared to all the other things you could do, but today it was ten times worse. You could bear it, seeking to make dusting shelves fun by humming some random tune to yourself. It was okay, something you had to do every once in a while. You could do it. 

If only you weren't sick. 

"Achoo! Achoo! — urgh... Achooo..! Damn." 

You began feeling like this some days ago, or so you told yourself as you delicately hunched down to the floor, hoping to grasp the yellow sponge soaked in foam and water without experiencing excruciating pain. However, your hopes soon shattered as your back screamed in agony and your legs trembled with soreness, almost giving up on you. 

Just the flu, you insisted, it would go away. A couple of sneezes mean nothing. You would feel better and all would go back to the ordinary. 

... Oh, how wrong you were! And how stupid for not getting a day off. 

You were capable, though! You counted on your immune system (it sounded heroic the first time you thought of that). One night is all you needed. 

Or not. 

"Ow, ow..." 

You should've told your captain. Sure, it would cost your courage, pride, and dignity, but at least you'd be cured. You'd rather die than tell him you got sick because of the one herb he instructed everybody to avoid. 

What's worse is that he's been rather distant, and he's unquestionably avoiding you. The way he shoots daggers — no, whole machetes in your direction every time you do anything, smart or not, is so clear even the crew can see it. And the worst part? You do not know why. 

It had been like this for a while now, and you detested this whole plight with passion. Everything was okay between the two of you, you were sure of it! What did you do that spurred such a reaction? From one so dear to you? 

Those sweet memories... 

From new findings you excitedly presented him, to revealing himself, his past and adventures to you after almost a year of sailing. You knew everything about him. He knew everything about you. 

So why? Why stop so abruptly? You didn't mind when he digressed about his newfound coins. When he murmured under his breath while he pored over medical books or mulled about a particular topic. When he stressed over labor and called for a brief break, where you or the crew would attend to him by delivering him a meal or helping when he wasn’t looking. He's so stubborn.

"Uurgh..." 

From captain, to Law, to captain again. Not to mention how he deftly stopped you from hanging out with him. You thought he needed space at first. Maybe he was tired and had to rest for the next few days. That’s alright. However, your thoughts deteriorated as the days passed. But well, right now it's better if he doesn't see you at all. Nor the crew‌ — oh, the damn crew. Those two.

The "two" being the pair of nitwits that constantly stand by law's side and grin at you. Seriously... 

You do not understand what Penguin and Shachi find so amusing about your situation with him. It's a tragedy, not a comedy. You love them both, truly, the minute you stepped into the polar tang they were the first ones to get you to open up and all, but goodness, you wish you could beat them for sitting there, cackling and clapping their hands while confiding some mysterious comments to each other when la — the captain, showed up in the area and walked past you with an unreadable gaze. He'd constantly salute you and the others with a bow of his head or more, depending on his mood. 

Now? If he saw one inch of your form? 

Sigh. His face always went red. 

Why can't those two just tell you? Even Ikkaku seemed to know something you didn't. She was more subtle about it, though. Jean Bart wasn't slick either. You could see him smile from a mile away. Hakugan and Clione? Shachi and Penguin 2.0, except they hid behind Jean Bart. The rest pitied you instead, sometimes patting your back — sometimes shaking their head almost in disbelief. Oh, and Bepo gave you suspicious smiles! Every time he tried to say something to you, those two animal hat-wearing goblins silenced him. Did they just want you to suffer? 

And if they did want that then their curses were working because even after grabbing the sponge (almost losing your temper as it slipped through your gloved palm twice) and straightening back to an erect pose, your head was still banging with fervor, muscles barely reacting. 

If only you could snuggle with the fluffy, warm mink right now. A bitter sigh rushed past your lips at the thought. 

Those two were just so mean. But Law was much meaner — the captain, the captain... Yes, the captain. That... That dummy. 

You groaned and shook your head while forcing your wobbly arms to scrub the table, exhausted mentally with this never-ending train of thoughts and these fanciful fists leaving invisible bruises all over your poor body. Not to point out those hands pinching your brain like dough... 

Just — you... Goodness, what was it he suddenly despised so much? The submarine felt like home. It was home, especially when he joined you. Now when he does, he — the aura he emanates is intimidating, yet everyone is either unaware of it or not affected by it. 

What made him so resentful? You can barely say anything when he strides into the place, too panicked to learn how he would perceive you or talk to you if you go on. It's like you're back on step one, isolated, too scared to be yourself with your family. Because of one man who's supposed to be the head of it. 

Being you felt like a sin when close to him, as if he preferred the private variant of who you are, and shunned your curious and spirited self. You could understand since he’s rather closed off and well, in a certain aspect you are too, but — did he not like you at all? Was it all an act to not offend you? He didn't seem to dislike your vivid reactions initially, or your foolish gestures when nearing a fresh island. You were often silent, smiling and listening to others converse, but when around your companions, you easily liked to open up since it was the only time you could do so. And they were more than just that. You entrusted all the members of the heart pirates. They meant everything to you. Even him, who stopped including you. 

Ugh... 

You wished it could all go back to normal. 

This disease enjoyed fumbling with your previously scrambled sentiments. Law did mention it brought a high fever and emotional susceptibility. You didn't consider it'd be this severe. 

"... Okay, I'm done." 

You certainly weren't, with your bed unmade and furniture still dusty; floor imploring for a good wash. However, with the croaky voice you had paired with your runny nose, you doubted you could do more. Even if you did, it'd be better not to. 

You peered down at the bucket full of water that probably smelled better than you at the moment, ignoring the small puddle beside it made by your poor handling sponges skills. Grimacing, you decided to leave it where it was in case carrying it back turns out to be a challenge. Hopefully, Ikkaku can provide you help later. 

Looking around, your droopy eyelids dimmed your perspective and further provoked you as both exasperation and exhaustion mixed and boiled in your gut, room so messy it mirrored your current state. You didn't know what was irritating you more: the light of the lamp or the disarray you resided in. 

Howling dejectedly, you turned and plodded to your bed, opening your arms, ready to throw yourself on the mattress. The more you sleep, the sooner you'll get better. Yeah, you're so brilliant. You closed your eyes and — 

knock knock. 

— reopened them a second after, remaining immobile for an extra few before glowering at your door, contemplating whether to go open it or linger to determine if they'd leave. Hmm. 

You waited. 

... knock knock. 

Fantastic.

You gritted your teeth, drawing a profound breath to settle your nerves, haywire thanks to the hellish illness. They didn’t deserve to withstand your rage, but who knows, maybe by seeing your shape, they'll show sympathy and tell you. That could work. 

Okay. 

You sluggishly trudged to the door, not bothering to adjust your unbuttoned pajamas and faking a cheerful facade. You hoped your face didn't look too awful, but you couldn't care less right now. 

Gripping and twisting the knob, you pushed it open, greeting them with the feeblest voice you've ever had, your sore nose making it unthinkable to inhale air. You rubbed the back of your head while doing so, eyelids closed to evade any light. 

"Yo, Penguin, Shachi, how can I—" the words automatically came out of your coarse and blazing throat, opening your eyes a bit to look at... them... 

Then you saw a tattoo. And more tattoos. No white, poofy boiler suits in sight. 

By barely seeing light before, you tried giving yourself mercy, but now you were only slaughtering yourself to make sure the person in front of you was, well. Him. 

Your jaw fell while your brows lifted in consternation, but shortly returned down thanks to your declining headache. Your pupils then scaled the mountain of mass before you and arrived at the peak. Another pair of eyes. 

Cool, gray eyes. The ones that just a week ago welcomed you with compassion and comfort. Now they drive you to wither away from this world. Even if you look up to them. (Hehe, get it? man, you're so silly, wow.) 

"—help … Captain. Uh, hello." and there goes your comfort zone. 

You tried swallowing down air but got pounds of mucus down your stomach instead, curved posture closing up even more in his presence, ashamed to be seen in such a weak state, instantly regretting not managing your appearance as his gaze scrutinized you from top to bottom, probably displeased with how you presented yourself.. 

You looked everywhere but at him. He only looked at you. 

Envy spurted from the plant’s toxins. How could he focus on one thing and have so much confidence to stare at someone without breaking eye contact at all? If you do the same for longer than two seconds, it feels like whoever looked at you has seen your entire personality, life, darkest secrets that you didn't really have, closest people to you — everything in poor words. The windows of your soul, perpetually agape.

How does he keep them closed? Why can't you seal them at all? Why?— 

"—so care to explain the meaning of this?" 

"Huh?" 

You stupidly stared at him, blinking and glancing at his shoulders, then back at him to break whatever spell he put on you, not able to concentrate at all. 

Barely could you see the annoyed expression on his face. You hoped he wasn't dealing with excessive stress. Making him feel worse was not your intention. 

"I said, care to explain what this is? You look... terrible—" you cringed at that, "—and you haven't come out of your room since this morning. Do you have any idea what time it is?" His scrutinizing tone made you want to crawl under your blankets and stay there forever, but his patronizing gaze didn't let you. 

You could merely fidget with your fingers and glance back at the floor to relieve your worries, which mixed with pain, fatigue, and dirtiness. You called for sleep so badly. 

"I'm—I'm sorry, Captain. I, uh, I didn't—" sniff, "—mean to skip my duties. Sorry." 

His brow creased in suspicion at your raspy voice and poor shape. 

"Is that so? Look at me while you say it." if his words weren't menacing enough, his tone was too. He knew you couldn't do that. Especially now. 

"Uh..." you unconvincingly whispered, continuing to play with your fists, until rubbing your nape once more, shuddering at how chilled your hands were compared to it. 

Your actions were, again, spotted by him, and if one more thing occurred, then he'll be correct. 

"Well? I'm waiting." 

"..." 

Sighing exasperated, you raised your head to look into his pupils once again.  

Unbeknownst to you, he already confirmed another of his impressions while taking a further view of your sullen visage. 

"I, uhm, overslept, Captain. That — that happens sometimes, yeah? Sorry about that. I'll—I'll..." stopping for a moment, you squinted your eyes and scrunched your nose while the man before you attentively fixated his stare on your frame and— 

"Achooo!" —covered half of your face whilst he recoiled back at the loud sneeze you let out, not expecting it at all. He blinked, then you sneezed again, and again. Streak of three. 

If your voice and glossy eyes already told everything to the doctor, the continuous sneezes only reinforced his thesis. 

You exhaled haplessly as he sternly said your name. 

"You're sick." his firm and coherent words could not be fooled. Your fate was sealed. 

"...Yeah." at this point, you didn't care. He was gonna scold you, nothing you could do about it. You could only hope he'll do that after you're cured because right now, you could barely stand still without shivering. You were sure if he wanted to do something he would have already, so he definitely will have a talk with you after you're healthy. 

"Why?" you've been proven wrong so many times this morning — afternoon. Evening? That you don't know what's gonna happen next. 

You stared at him numbly, almost done with everything. 

"What do you mean 'why'? I don't, I don't know. Probably our... Ugh, our last stop, isn't that obvious—" 

"Not that. Why didn't you say anything? To the others? To me?" 

If it wasn't for your head beating incessantly and the aching of your tendons ruining everything, you would think this was a dream. 

You kept gawking at him like a goldfish. His timbre wasn't as stern as it regularly was. It was a bit, just a tad bit lower. Like, barely. His eyes were softer, and if you met the man yesterday, you wouldn't be capable of identifying his mood. It's because you knew him for so long that you could distinguish it. 

"I..." you mumbled talks under your breath, awfully feeble to maintain the discussion, barring your eyes and hitching away when Law planted his freezing hand on your forehead. You fussed in protest, although it didn't last long. 

"You're cold... Off." 

"My hands are perfectly fine. You're burning," he interrupted you, stating the obvious. But you were far too deep to listen, fatigued. 

"Yeah... M'sorry." you nodded while deliberately looking down in shame, almost dropping to the ground out of fatigue. Everything seems hazy, the pressure in your skull fading, while the breaths you took were meager. 

Something skimmed over your shoulder and nape — ah, his fingertips — palm carefully tilting your head back up. Your mouth hung open, and you attempted to focus on your captain's facial features and the iconic hat to not fall asleep. 

"It's fine." But his gentle approach and mellow maneuvers set you in a soothing trance, where you couldn't do anything other than auscultate him. 

It’d be an exceptional moment to speak up about these last days, his odd actions. 

"It... It is? You, ah... You're not..." but you struggled to do so, chest too heavy to speak. He narrowed his eyes, striving to make out what you were saying, but it was all incomprehensible to him. 

"I'm not?" he urged you to proceed, getting closer — he felt warm. Wasn't he cold some seconds ago? Ah, he’s draping his coat over your shoulders, so, so cozy, — and holding you as if you were glass. Why was he holding you? It felt nice, undoubtedly nice. Oh, you were going to fall, you think. 

“Hey—hey. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” 

Cradling you in his arms, Law cursed and crouched down, snaking an arm under your knees and sweeping you up, a short "there" slipping from his tongue, keeping you close to his breast. Naturally, you snuggled close to the source of heat, losing consciousness, unaware of your surroundings, his distress, and jogging to the infirmary. 

“Hey. Keep your eyes open. No, no, open—yes, yes, like that. Good job. A bit more, then you can go to sleep, alright?" 

While nodding lazily when he said your name again, you curled up for more warmth, and he mellowly followed your movement, hefting you up and pressing his lips upon your forehead, his frown deepening at how high the temperature was. He needed to administer medicine quickly. 

"Law …'m sorry if I smell." 

He scoffed. Thinking of such idiotic things was exactly like you, sputtering them out so bluntly. Rolling his eyes was natural at this point. 

"That's my last concern. We'll think of your scent and hygiene later. Don't speak. Shh." 

So stupid, so stupid. He should've confronted you ever since you left the island. He should've. It's been a recurring pattern these days. He couldn't see you because of his work but spoke with the others at breakfast, lunch, dinner... They all grew concerned about your distance. Uni shared that it began right after the departing... He knew something wasn't right with you, he could feel it.

Back in that inhabited location, he quickly took note of your drooping posture and fatigued breathing. He wanted to ask about it, but the following days, you acted normal, and Law thought you were queasy because of the heat.

Then he got busy checking on the crew's documents, medicine supply, the damn broken scope Hakugan sadly reported, bounties, news — and something else. He managed to give a check-up to everyone but you. It was mandatory after leaving an island.

With you evading him and him doing the same, this happened. Great. He could only hope it wasn't contagious.

... Wait.

He gritted his teeth in sour realization — Not once has he seen you in the halls or dining hall. No one mentioned you, either. Have you eaten anything at all? Oh, you imbecile.

He palmed your skin through your suit, easing your laments and whimpers, walking through the hallways of the Polar Tang and reaching the infirmary. Kicking the door open while lulling you a bit, shushing and fluttering his eyelids at your sick and quaking form. 

"There we go. Shh, I know, I know, it's awful." 

Uplifting the blankets, he quickly covered you and began searching for his equipment, rustling and metal clicks tangling with your whines. 

"U- uuh... W- where..?" 

"I'll be there in a second. I'm here." 

As he said that, he quickly came back to you, already stirring medicine in a cup. He had to give to you before you blacked out or fell asleep. Sliding a hand under your back, he carefully pushed you up, gaining a groan from you; you sounded so tired. Tipping your head forward, he brought the rim of the cup to your lips. You were delirious, could barely see or feel, but managed to follow his direct instruction to "open". The first glass was tasteless, fresh... water. 

The second tasted awful. 

"E—eugh..." 

"A couple more sips and we're done. Come on, you're doing good." 

Once you drank it all, with a small praise from Law, he gently laid you back down, about to check your vitals. He knew you were in no condition to do as he instructed, it would be all him. Idiot, idiot... 

Just looking at you made him guilty. He never saw you this awful. However, what truly pushed him were your next phrases. 

“Do you feel better now..?” 

Low and dry, they all were. He halted his movements, his hands in the bag, shifting his attention to you. 

Your question puzzled him. 

Feel better? Him? He was fine. Perhaps you thought the disease was contagious? No; you would've phrased that diversely. His forehead creased, slightly tilted to the side. 

"What?" 

“I … I missed you." 

And as clear drops cascaded down your cheeks, his limbs froze, a bittersweet ache striking his chest. 

"I—I thought I did something wrong … I’m sorry … Should've told you. 'M sorry ... really...” 

Shit. 

“No, no, don’t be. It’s alright, don't—don't speak. You did nothing. Shh...” 

And if you stayed conscious for some more seconds, you could've seen those severe pupils mitigate. The windows of his soul open up; the "stern" gaze he preserved for you withering in an instant at your vulnerability. 

All he wanted to do was clear that up. When, now..? 

“I—I’m the one that should’ve apologized, damn it…” 

"Aargh..." 

Warm. 

"Mmh..." 

It was very warm. Pleasant. 

"Hn..." 

The boilersuit felt different. Heavier, and not … poofy. Hm. 

The pillow was so nice, though... 

You sought a better position under the comforting and amiable regime of your blanket, squinting your glistening eyes as if sand had struck them; eyebrows knitting in distaste and discomfort, choler cramming up your insides — but not for long, extremely achy and sleepy to lament. 

Shouldn't it be easier to relax now that you are tired? Shifting left and right left your muscles throbbing. The peace you could achieve in your dreams was all you begged for. But no, you just had to rise two more times in the span of minutes or hours. 

When you woke up the third time, someone surprised you. He was perching on a chair near the infirmary's bed, head, presumably about to doze off. An encyclopedia of vegetation and exotic environs sat in his palms and dotted jeans, the cover made of green-coloured leather, firm to the touch. 

He looked peaceful. 

"... Law?" 

Your lashes fluttered at the fierce shudder that rocked his frame, the textbook about to fall, his eyes snapping open and rapidly darting up to you. 

"Oh. You woke up. Good. Good evening." 

You were mad at him. You were mad at him. 

His lips were indubitably moving. Whatever he was saying, you were not listening. Something about being out for hours, but you were too out of it to pay attention. 

And looking down at your body, your eyeballs almost popped out of your sockets at the sight of... Not your boilersuit. 

"I'm in my pajamas?" 

"And — hm? Oh. I changed you." Pause. "With my devil fruit, of course. Obviously. You were way too hot in it." 

"..." 

"..." 

Pause number two. 

"I'm hot?" You bluntly said,

"Not in that way." And he quickly retorted, bashful. You immediately got gloomy.

"Oh..." You and Bepo were alike. He couldn’t help but sweatdrop.

"No, no, no, don't — you look fine. That's not what I meant." 

A hoarse chuckle ripped from your sensible larynx, a noise that he hadn't heard in a while. His back loosened at your jovial note, the pressure applied on the envelope of the manual lessening. 

There was a superb illustration of the flora you accidentally whiffed. 

"You inhaled it, didn't you?" 

... Silence followed. Then a sigh.

"A simple allergy with a sore throat and emotional instability in the first phase caused by the pollen, weakened muscles and headache in the second, and heightened senses, nausea, and worsening of the body in the last one. You felt them all." 

Quick and precise, each symptom he mentioned appeared throughout the weeks you boarded on the Polar Tang. He hit the mark. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, you nodded sheepishly, feeling hot in your cheeks. 

"Y—Yeah." 

"I thought I mentioned dodging those peculiar red flowers. I don't expect you to recall the name, but to avoid it. Thankfully, you only inhaled its pollen, or else you would've been in this bed the moment we departed." 

"O—oh... That bad?" 

"No, not really. The symptoms would've developed quicker, but nothing dangerous. Perhaps you would have slept over two days, as all cases do when encountering this allergy," He narrows his eyes at you, shutting the book and crossing his long legs, his foot jouncing. "Not at all fatal, only worrying when the patient in question mentions nothing about the symptoms and overworks themselves.” 

“Hey—” 

“You're fine." 

A small huff left your lips, nodding lazily. Nothing was uttered after from both sides. Occasional groans from yours. Only then he spoke. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

"..." The answer was simple. He immediately found the illness yet couldn't pinpoint the cause of this? It was almost ironic. Your quietude wasn't taken well. 

"Well?" 

"... You ignored me. You made it clear." 

And he was faking ignorance. That glance, his attitude. You knew him too well, but had no energy to call him out. 

"I—I didn't." 

"Don't play coy, Law. Did I do something? Even the others know. Penguin and Shachi told me. I—" 

You paused when he raised his hand, glancing at it in confusion, then back at him, twice or more. He sighed and dropped it back on his thigh again, using his other one to rub his temple in distress. 

"You did nothing. I don't know what... Shachi and Penguin said," You tilted your head at his peculiar manner of quoting them. "But I've got nothing against you." 

He stopped rubbing and lifted his head to check on you again and you were unsure of what to say. His brows wrinkled the tender skin of his forehead, severity, and minor unease painting every fiber of his appearance. 

You just... didn't know. 

"Really? Then why those weird stares? Why leave the room the moment I come in? I mean." you flailed your hands around, looking everywhere as if you could find an explanation. "You never behaved this way, Law, not with anyone. I... It was fine before, right? Let me ask again, did I do something wrong?" 

"Of course not!" 

At his hasty exclamation, you blinked, uncertain why he became as rigid as stone. Palms back on the blanket, you awaited an elaboration of his thoughts, observing his adumbral face to detect any key to figure out what caused him to alter his ways with you. However, his hat, which you've always appreciated for its fluffiness, turned out to be an issue. Those eyes you've grown so fond of refused to meet yours. 

You just couldn't get it. The surrounding air grew an intoxicating no romance book would mention, one that did the contrary of setting your heart aflame, that poor muscle of yours. 

If he explained, it would've been easier. 

"Okay, 'of course not' ... Sure—" 

"We are not having this conversation. You need rest." 

He briskly cut you off, and your heart felt constricted. The words felt bitter upon both of your tongues, so bitter and revolting, they made his jaw clench and your eyes water. You weren't having it. Absolutely not. 

"I feel better now, thank you, and I say we're having this right here." You pushed, ignoring how he clenched his tattooed fist.

"No—" 

"Yes, Law! I don't know what I did, but if it bothers you, shouldn’t you tell me? There are things we can all miss." 

The pang in your brain was still active, and you had no patience nor strength to argue. Either he spoke up or you'd go straight to sleep. 

"I... You did nothing that bothers me." 

His speech was almost a whisper, a low rumble, and were you in your regular state, you'd feel sad to see him like this. Law had no trouble speaking up— perhaps with apologies, or admitting to be wrong when in the midst of a conversation. Maybe something genuinely bothered him. But he'd tell you, wouldn't he? He had to.

But you weren't the only one who had to consider the consequences. He also had to do his part. 

"... And?" you encouraged him, to gain something, something that would lead you both to that damned thing you were both chasing, that ounce of understanding. 

“And—and what?" alas, it served another wave of blistering dissatisfaction down upon the membranes of your boiling stomach. 

He couldn't be serious. 

"... Whatever. I'm going to sleep." 

"What?" 

You detested how you were feeling, a volcano of passions, the pounding in your skull, and the heat, and the ludicrous, nagging insecurity, all these wretched, gristly sensations shoved in your mouth and scraping your gullet, such a relucting and squalid dish, contaminating your palate and inflaming the gums of your teeth. 

But all Law could see was how your eyes moistened and reddened, the crinkles at the corners of your mouth, the contracted tissues above your nose. 

You couldn't feel how his heart plummeted, either. Again, he caused you to cry. 

"Hey... I—" 

"No, Law, no! I said leave! You ignored me for almost two weeks and now—now you're just..!" 

Perhaps you were being a bit too "dramatic" for something you could solve with a modest exchange, something that, compared to all the obstacles you and Law went through, was a sheer grain of dust in your shoes. Yet you erupted for the frustration, the plant's effects and that nameless thing you'll bring in your grave, for if he knew, he'd probably pity you. 

Maybe, just maybe, he should've kept ignoring you. If solely to dim that warmth. The glow in your eyes that only sparked with him. 

"I don't mind if you need time. I don't mind if you're busy or whatever, that's obviously fine! But can't you tell me? Is it that hard? Instead of treating me like a stranger? Just—just, just leave..." 

Your snotty voice seemed ridiculous, resounding through the infirmary alongside your sobs and sniffles. Vision tarnished by your tears, staring at the ceiling with resignation. It alarmed Law, whose emotions were already scattered; unnerved, anxious. 

He couldn't take seeing you like this. He couldn't. 

"That’s not it! I... I just — I..!" His broken explanations fell as your cries didn't stop; spasms traveling through your frazzled nerves. He swore under his breath, getting up and coming to you, standing close but so, so distant. His fingers jerked, impatient to wipe your tears, to calm you down, to assure you everything was alright, and this was all on him. 

"What..?" you meekly whimpered, gazing at him as he appeared in your sight. 

"I, I..!" if only he could express himself. You'd figure out. If only he could, without buckling and tearing apart at the weight of his own feelings. 

"... You what, Law?" 

It was tough to see with all those tears coating your scleras, but... His lips quivered. His jaw tensed. 

His hands craved yours. 

"I like—I like you!" 

... You wondered if illusions were part of the symptoms. Your eyelids were all but relaxed. Popeyed. 

"There. I said it. I mean it. Seriously. I—I think I love you." 

You could feel his frantic grip, slightly pulling the blankets in his direction, tense as him. You've never seen Law so … jittery with you. Perhaps when he slowly spoke of his past, or when his plan failed. 

"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I... I was confused. I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't... No, okay. I, I love you, but you don't have to reciprocate, really. ‌I just wanted to clarify that I wasn't—" 

This was different, however. Not the same vulnerability, nor agitation. That teetering edge coating his sayings, not at all close to those instances. 

"... Law." 

"—ignoring you, I mean, I was, but I just couldn't face you, you know? I didn't know how to act—" 

That glow, those feelings. The twinkle in his eyes Bepo mentioned when you spoke of something that fascinated you, that rare grin on his lips, and that sweetness, the swelling in his chest, and the red, and the breath of fresh air, and the intoxicating romance books loved to talk about... 

Those tints blooming in his cheeks. The faint relaxation of his defined brows. How he covered his pretty, vulnerable self. 

He's no different from you. Oh, oho ho, no, he wasn’t. Only now did you realize. 

"Law." 

"—but I missed you so much, I missed your presence, being with you, I—" 

Your heartbeats matched. 

"Law!" 

You understand now. The definitive yell induced him to quit his blabbering, and eventually, he found your gaze. Those windows were not locked at all. Not marginally, not halfway. They were fully open. You could see him. 

"It's... the same." 

It was all you could utter. His jaw loosened, and you could recognize his wide, stormy irises. 

"Huh? Wh — what?" 

"I feel the same way, Law. I—I love you too." 

Yours were open, too. They always were- yet he never acknowledged what dwelled inside. Two fools you both were. 

"... Oh..." and a breathless whisper was all he could offer. 

The silence dissipated. A delightful warmth occupied your rib cage. The pressure was gone. 

All is back to normal. 

"If... If you weren't sick. I'd kiss you." He mumbled, and his lips looked more luscious than ever. He shouldn't have said that. Now it was even harder. 

"P—pfft... Of course, of course. Can you come closer, at least?" you pouted, giving him the best puppy eyes you could muster. “Pretty please?”

"... Fine. It's — not contagious, anyway," he huffed, his cheeks a light pink, and he sat on the margin of the infirmary's bed, hustling just a tad bit closer... 

Closer... 

"Closer?" 

"Alright." 

His ears grew pink at your giggles. Your fingers graced each other, "DEATH" entwined with you. His hands were lukewarm. Long, slim, calloused in some places, but also tender to the contact. His metacarpals were partially discernible, defining the shadows. He took care of his nails, ensuring they were cut short, although they appeared slightly, just somewhat lengthier than usual. Not considerably, however; they were still short. 

How you missed holding it. 

"Sorry, by the way. About everything." Squeezing his hand, you attempted to show him what it meant to you. He squeezed it back, brushing the top of your hand with his thumb, a pensive and solemn look on his face. 

"No- I should apologize for not saying anything sooner. I neglected and avoided you. I … I don’t know what to do. You know I’m not the type for relationships.” 

You hummed in acknowledgement, but weren't as worried as Law. You'll wait. Nothing would change. 

“Mmm. I can wait for you, Law.” Saying it seemed to take him off guard, as if he hadn't thought about it. Or, rather, didn't expect you to propose it. In his head, it seemed silly because it's him. If you were to ask in his place, he'd also wait. 

He felt lighter. 

“… Truly?” 

“Yeah. We can figure it out together. Like we always did. I’ve loved you for years." He inhaled deeply, your words buttery and sweet. "I’m fine with waiting longer.” 

Thinking you wouldn't accept, if he asked, was stupid of him too. Of course you would. Of course. With another squeeze, he nodded, and turned his head away from you a bit. 

His eyes glistened. 

“I’d like that. Thank you.” 

You smiled, too, saying nothing in return. 

He can take all the time he needs. 

After some days, everything went back to the typical routine. The first thing you did was knock Shachi and Penguin's heads, (supported by Ikkaku) and since Hakugan and Clione were on duty, you couldn't do the same for them. 

You puffed your cheeks and enjoyed chewing the well-earned treat you snagged from the kitchen, reorganizing boxes since this morning. 

"Tired?" 

Peeking at the door, a smile adorned your mouth at the sight of your captain leaning on it. 

"Mm, there were a lot of them." 

"You could've asked for help. You know I don't want any of you to strain yourselves with tasks." 

"I had it. Don't worry. Although..." another bite. "I miss it." 

"Hm?" he crooned, tipping his head forward. "Miss what?" 

You gazed into his eyes, "Miss getting pampered by you when I was sick." lovingly observing how they enlarged a bit before returning to the stoic stare he always wore, swaying his head to dismiss your remarks. The chambré tint on his cheeks was as clear as day, like his light smile. Not that you'd tell him, he'd immediately disregard it. 

"... Meet me at my office once you're done." 

As he turned his back to you, his boots making clicky rumors with each step, your smirk amplified... After all, who could wait to get coddled by none other than their favorite captain?

#law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #trafalgar law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x you

[sapphire-writes]

Hi! I see that the request are open so I have an idea for you! ( if you don’t like it feel free to ignore this!) Aemond and reader who is daughter of rhaenyra are friends since they were children and also love each other, but always caught in the middle of their family problems, when storms end happens she is there with Luke and reader tries to help Luke by distracting aemond and vaghar with her dragon, but things get out of hand and their dragons stop obeying, and instead of vaghar eating luke she hurts the dragon and burn the reader, but what aemond does not know is that reader can’t be burned ( like danny) sorry if is too long!

A/N: This is a great request! Though I'm open to anything, I do love writing about childhood moments/childhood friends 🥺 Hope you enjoy 💚

Unburnt ~ Aemond x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: descriptions of violence, blood

Where your family travels, trouble seems to follow. 

Though you were fond of your uncle Aemond, Jacaerys and Lucerys were not. Tensions grew whenever they were together. You supposed it must be due to training by the sword together, something you were not allowed to participate in.

Though once, Aemond had helped you hide your dark hair within a cap to pose as Luke (Ser Criston was not fooled, and sent you on your way).

You found yourself constantly being the defender, either of Aemond or your brothers. When your Uncle Aegon and brothers presented Aemond with the pink dread you felt hot with anger. 

“That was incredibly cruel,” you had scolded Jace and Luke, causing the younger to shy away from the gaze of his elder sister. Jace held your gaze, mouth in a tight frown. He never understood your unwavering loyalty to the silver prince.

Driftmark had been a different story. You knew Aemond longed for a dragon; you couldn’t imagine not being bonded with one. Your dragon Pyraxes had been bonded to you since you shared a cradle with her. 

Baela and Rhaena had burst into the room, claiming someone had stolen Vhagar. You followed your brothers to confront the thief. 

“It’s him!”

“It's me.”

 Fighting ensues, punches are thrown, and blood sprays the sand beneath your feet. You try to insert yourself between your kin, arms blocking Aemond. The fight is not fair. There is only screaming and punching, you blindly push Baela and Rhaena. Jace pulls you from Aemond as your uncle holds a rock to Luke. 

“Bastards,” Aemond hisses, and your stomach drops. Jace pulls a knife.

Your eyes are well with tears, and you don’t know what to do. It’s Luke, it’s your brother whom you need to protect. You claw at Aemond, begging him to release him, tears streaming down your face. Aemond’s expression is pained, but he does, letting Luke drop to the floor. 

Sand is thrown, the knife catches the light of a candle, and more blood sprays to the floor along with the crumpled form of Aemond Targaryen. A pained scream cuts through the air as you rush to Aemond’s side. 

“I only wish to see him,” you beg Queen Alicent, who gives you a look of such malcontent you feel you may shrivel and perish under her gaze. Aemond is receiving no one. You had been told as much but you are a stubborn child. Ser Criston escorts you from the room. The memory you will hold of your uncle for several years is soaked in blood.

Though you did not say your goodbyes in person, you and Aemond continue to write to one another. The distance between King’s Landing and Dragonstone is not far and ravens travel quickly. You bond over shared stories, the histories, and philosophies you both love to study. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You cannot help but feel excited to see him when the succession of Driftmark is challenged. The first time you see Aemond in years, you feel your stomach quiver with nerves. He is in the training yard, dueling with Ser Criston. You stand next to Jace and Luke and cannot hide your smile. Jace takes notice and scoffs disapprovingly. 

“Nephews,” Aemond says, catching his breath. His eye finds you. “Niece.”

He lowers his sword.

“Come to train?”

The tension in the air is thick. You step forward, bridging the space between both sides of your family. 

“Is there finally room for me to train?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. Ser Criston wipes the sweat from his brow. 

“I am afraid not, princess,” he informs you, “the Queen would not be pleased.”

Though his tone is polite, there is no sympathy in the words. You purse your lips in disappointment. 

“Ah yes.. I wonder, Uncle, if you would be so kind as to show me the library? It must have been greatly updated since I have seen it last,” you ask, smiling sweetly. Aemond sheaths his sword. 

“Of course,” he says, offering his arm. You loop your arm through his, eagerly leading him from the training yard. 

“I have missed you,” you tell him earnestly, a pink blush dusting the top of your cheeks.

“Hm,” Aemond says in response, a smile making its way onto his face. He attempts to keep his pulse at a reasonable pace, but he cannot help himself from staring at you, trying to memorize your face after years of not seeing you. You bump him playfully.

“I suppose I have missed you as well,” he teases, leading you into the castle. You spend the rest of the afternoon and late into the evening together. Only when the candles are spent do you finally tear yourselves away from each other, retiring to your chambers. 

Your grandsire insists on dinner together with the whole family. You sit next to Luke, taking generous sips from your cup of wine, trying to ease your nerves. Your mother gives you a small smile. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“If you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, you know where to find me,” Aegon whispers to Baela, pouring a drink, “the offer extends to you as well, niece.” Your stomach lurches, but you attempt to brush Aegon’s comment off, rolling your eyes. 

Both Jace and Aemond rise from their seats at Aegon’s comment, as you take a sip from your cup. As toasts are made and your grandsire is escorted from the hall, tensions rise again. 

You flinch as Aemond makes a toast, the word strong lingering in the air. He freely calls your brothers bastards, and you by default. Your features match Jace and Luke. 

You stand as Jace punches Aemond, who only smirks in response pushing your brother to the floor. 

“Really?” you say to Aemond, exasperated by the constant fighting. You pry Aegon’s fingers from Luke’s neck, pushing him away from your younger sibling. The evening has turned sour, quickly.

“I fear you are destined to leave me,” Aemond murmurs. You smile sadly, dressed in your riding leathers prepared to saddle Pyraxes in the dragonpit. 

“Mother intends to return,” you tell him, “I am not a child anymore. Let me see my siblings to Dragonstone and then I shall join her, on dragonback. She shall need someone here with her.”

Aemond smiles at you, admiring the soft look on your face. 

“I would greatly enjoy that,” he admits. He thought often of proposing to his mother a marriage between himself and you, to ease the tensions between the blacks and the greens. Aemond entertained the idea of you as his wife often. You plagued every thought he had, every dream. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The promise of war looms. You follow Luke to Storm’s End on Pyraxes at your mother’s request. The rain pours as you land in the courtyard, easing off of your mount. Lightning fills the sky, and thunder booms shaking the ground you stand on. 

Not thunder, but a roar, you realize, eyes widening as Vhagar rears her head from the distance. 

Aemond has beaten you there. 

You enter the Round Hall and cannot take your eyes from Aemond, who stands next to one of Lord Borros’ daughters. The prettiest one, your mind taunts. A bitter taste gathers in your mouth as Lord Borros explains the betrothal. 

Aemond studies your expression, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. 

“I am not free to marry, my lord,” Luke explains. Aemond’s smirk grows, triumphantly. Your cheeks redden with your fury.

“Go home pups,” Lord Borros calls, and you clasp Luke’s shoulder turning to leave from the hall.

“Wait, niece,” he calls, causing you to turn, “my lord Strong. You really think you could fly about the realm, trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”

“The usurper’s crown, you mean,” you hiss, your anger slipping through. Aemond’s functioning eye narrows. 

“I will not fight you. We came as messengers, not warriors.” Luke says, chin held high.

“Fight would be a little challenge. No, I want you to put out your eye,” Aemond says, removing his eye patch and revealing his sapphire eye. 

“As payment for mine. One would serve,” he continues, throwing his dagger towards you and Luke. The blade clatters against the stone floor. “I would not blind you. Plan to make a gift of it to my mother.”

“No,” Luke says, eyes wide with fear. You can feel him trembling beside you.

“Then you are craven as well as a traitor,” Aemond says, a mad glint in his eye. 

You step forward in front of Luke, arms wide.

“Not here.” Lord Borros insists. 

“Give me your eye or I will take it, bastard!” Aemond says, running forward. You make a dash towards the dagger on the floor, picking up the blade and pointing it at your uncle. A wild look appears in his eye, as though he is delighted by the violence.

“You go too far, uncle!” you snap. Aemond stalks towards you. You glance behind you, jerking your head to signal Luke should retreat.

As you turn, Aemond is face to face with you, the blade pushing into his chest. He looks down at you, at the weapon between you. You feel your bottom lip begin to tremble.

“Would you kill me, niece?” he asks, his voice a soft caress as though addressing a lover, not an enemy. 

“You insult my brothers so freely, yet have always spared me from your vile insults. Why is that uncle? My blood runs the same as theirs,” you spit. You need to distract him. You need to allow Luke to enter the skies. 

Aemond’s mouth twitches. 

“The only traitor I see here is you,” you say, and as the words leave your mouth, Aemond wraps his hand around your wrist. He pushes the dragger towards the sky with ease, pressing his body into you. You can feel the warmth of him against you, his breath fans your face. 

“You play with fire, niece,” he tells you, lip curled in a snarl. You bare your teeth in response. 

“Fire is no threat to a dragon.”

“Enough!” Lord Borros calls, “not in my hall! Escort the princess back to her dragon.”

Aemond releases you, though he seems reluctant to do so. He looks behind you and lets out a frustrated growl. Lucerys has left. You smile triumphantly before leaving the hall. 

Pryraxes waits for you, Arrax has already taken to the skies. No sooner do you mount, you notice Vhagar has disappeared. The rain is pouring and your heart quickens. Find Luke, you think to yourself. Find Luke and bring you both home. 

As you take to the skies you hear Arrax’s call. Urging Pyraxes upwards, you join your brother. The rain cuts at your cheeks like knives and you struggle to keep your eyes open. A cloud covers what little light there is. No, not a cloud.

Vhagar.

You hear your uncle’s laugh, it leaves you more chilled than the frigid rain. He is taunting Luke, Vhagar nearing Arrax at every turn. Luke tries to evade them but Vhagar is a skilled dragon who has seen countless battles. 

Pyraxes screeches in anger, taking off after the quarreling dragons. You shout to her in Valyrian, bringing your hand to her back, desperate to soothe her. Light breaks through the clouds as Arrax shoots fire at Vhagar. The she-dragon is enraged. You hear Aemond shouting, trying to command Vhagar. Pyraxes dives towards Arrax, desperate to get between them. She is so like you, always the peacemaker, always the defender. 

You try to pull her saddle. There is no way she shall stop this fight, but Pyraxes will not listen. She dives between them as Vhagar lets loose a stream of dragon fire. You hear the anguished screams of Luke, of Aemond as the fire consumes you. 

There is nothing but light all around you, as the flames nearly blind you. Orange, red, and yellow blurs your vision, as you feel the flames lick your skin. Though where you should be in agonizing pain, you merely feel the flames as a caress, soft as velvet across your skin. 

Vhagar stops and Pyraxes dives towards the ground, crashing into a nearby field. The landing is bumpy, and she screams out a panicked call, feeling the fear and surprise that runs through you. Luke lands Arrax nearby, as Aemond does with Vhagar. 

The ground shakes as you roll off Pyraxes, collapsing to the ground. 

“Sister!” Luke’s call is desperate as he rushes over to you, but Aemond is quicker, by your side in an instant. His heart aches, expecting to find nothing but charred remains. He tears his jacket from his body, draping it over your naked form. He crouches to your side, gently pulling you towards him. 

You look up at him, dark eyes wide, hair matted from the rain and sweat that covers you. A dazed expression is on your face. 

“Seven hells,” Luke says, staring at you in wonder. 

Aemond’s eye scans the entirety of your form, not an inch of you goes uninspected as he searches for signs of injury. 

“You should be dead,” Aemond says, in a rough, soft, whisper, “you could have died.”

Pyraxes lets out a screech, seemingly agreeing with Aemond about the fate of her rider. Aemond feels nothing but relief as you are here, unburnt in his arms. He can see the blood in your cheeks. Somehow, someway you are gloriously alive. The threat of war seems far away in that moment as he holds you in his arms. Your face breaks out in a deranged grin, causing Aemond’s heart to skip a beat. 

“Fire cannot kill a dragon.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond fic #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond x velaryon!reader #aemond x strong!reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #hotd

[anashins]

Could we get a ocxJaehyun where he’s kinda insecure cos oc doesn’t show she’s jealous (just not a situation where he tries to make her jealous on purpose pls🥺) and when he confronts her about it she’s like “you have no idea how jealous I am, I mean look at yourself 😭😭😭” so the rest of the story may be smth fluffy like healthy communication or just smut lmao.

Pls <3

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: light angst, fluff, romance, a bit suggestive in the end

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: After posting a picture of you and your male best friend, your boyfriend turns very jealous. After all, you're always so casual about his life, so he assumes the reason behind is that you don't find him attractive and wait for someone better to come around. If only he knew.

A/N: Thank you for requesting! I went through this 2 days ago with my bf, this hit very close to home haha

“Having dinner with my best friend in the whole wide world!”

Jaehyun read the caption on your Instagram story post over and over again while his stomach dropped in the process.

The fact that the photo you had posted did not only show food, but a guy having his arm around your shoulder while you were leaning close to him put him into a rage. And his members were his target. 

Jaehyun tossed his phone back into his bag and returned to the others who were currently learning a new choreography. By the change of his facial expression alone, Taeyong could tell that his mood had entirely shifted within an instant - something that unfortunately happened too many times lately.

“What’s wrong?”

he asked with his serious leader-voice, having predicted the outcome of this situation already and wanting to prevent it at all cost. There was no way Jaehyun would disturb the entire dance practice with his jealous mood again.

“Nothing.”

How he stood there though, with the corners of his lips facing downwards, eyes dark and arms folded across his chest, now everyone was alarmed and the leader had to look over their friendship for once and put Jaehyun in his place. Again.

“If it’s nothing, then act like it. We have a concert coming up,” Taeyong addressed him. “Otherwise I will have to send you away.”

Jaehyun just grumbled something, but remained silent. His friends rather had him silent than taking it out on everyone though, which was why nobody talked to him for the remaining hours again.

When practice was over, Taeyong walked up to him and took him aside.

“I’m telling you this not only as your leader anymore, but as your friend too, okay? Talk it out with her. Either that or you won’t be allowed on your phone during practice, Jaehyun. I’m serious. Everytime something like this happens, your mood is eating you up and everyone feels it. You can’t concentrate, you can’t memorize the moves, you cannot work with the others. This has to end.”

“I’m sorry.” Jaehyun dropped his head along with his shoulders, and Taeyong felt guilty, but he had to do what he was supposed to do. 

He patted his friend’s back. “It’ll be fine.” And with a grin, he added, “I mean, look at you. You’re Jeong Jaehyun. You don’t have any rivals.”

-

“Hey, how was your day?” you asked Jaehyun after entering his apartment.

You were in a relatively good mood as you had had a great day with your best friend who was visiting the country for a month, and since he was living abroad the majority of the time, you tried spending so much with each other as possible.

The possibility of it irking Jaehyun had only crossed your mind when he started commenting on the photos you posted kind of snarky like “Oh, you’re out together again today?”, but since he hadn’t said anything directly, you had just brushed this feeling off.

Today though, he didn’t look good at all, it was written all over his face, no matter how hard he tried to conceal it with a fake smile that he usually reserved for cringy fancalls. 

“Are you okay?” you asked when you followed him into the living room. “You can tell me, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just…” He took a deep breather. “I haven’t heard from you all day.” 

“I’m sorry, I was busy. You know I’m rarely on my phone when I'm with people. I don’t want them to feel like I prioritize anything else over my time with them.”

He shrugged. “But there is always enough time to post on your Instagram story.”

Jaehyun could have bitten into his own tongue as he was usually very composed, but before he could redeem himself, you had already put the puzzle pieces together. 

He was jealous.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m just-’”

You got on your tiptoes and cupped his face. “Jaehyun… please tell me exactly what’s wrong. You know there is nothing to worry about since he has a girlfriend too and that’s just how we are together. I always told you that.” 

He averted his eyes, but you remained yours. “You’re always so casual and excited about everything. You like all my posts, my stories, comment encouragingly and supportingly on them, no matter when and no matter with who. Even if I don’t find time to reply to you, even if something holds me back from returning you the same energy. Am I the only one who cares?”

“Care about what?”

“That someone might take you away from me.”

“Jaehyun…” You tilted your head. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you never reacted the same way as I. No matter where I am, what I do or what kind of videos and pictures pop up online. You never seem to be bothered, and yet here I am, not being able to return this feeling, because even when a guy looks at you, I want to get you out of his eyesight. Does it mean I’m just not that attractive in your eyes, so you’re not worried at all? I genuinely want to know.”

Your mouth stood open over the fact that your boyfriend, possibly almost every girl in your age range’s ideal type, was assuming you didn’t find him handsome. His perfect face, that graced screens, placards, phones and everyone could stare at whenever and how often they wanted. He thought he wasn’t attractive, because you didn’t show jealousy.

Of course you were jealous as hell.

You brushed with your thumbs over his cheeks, trying to ease him. “Every day, so many people get to see this handsome face and experience your kind character. Just look at yourself. Of course I’m jealous too. Sometimes, especially when you’re touring, they see you more often than I, and I get to backtrack everything online, what you’re doing and saying, after them, after strangers. And the things they write… I don’t want to see, but I cannot close my eyes. At times, the pain gets so unbearable that I have to log off and trust that you eventually call me and tell me about everything.”

Jaehyun frowned and his former dark mien shifted into a frown. “I didn’t know all that.”

“Of course you wouldn’t know, because would that benefit me in any way? No. I trust you and only you. Everyone else doesn’t matter. I don’t have any influence, so I try to distance myself from it. So, I’m sorry if you ever feel like I don’t find you attractive enough, because I don’t show it in that kind of way. It’s just… I will always get painfully reminded that so many other people feel that way too. And every single one of them would take you away from me in an instant if they ever get the opportunity.”

"Nobody will.”

“I know.”

Something inside Jaehyun cracked when he saw you being so honest and also so confident about it. So, you were feeling the same about the other, you just had different ways to express and cope with it. 

Jaehyun took your hand into his and kissed your palm. “I’m sorry for being so insecure sometimes and not having more faith. We love each other, we want to be with each other, I shouldn’t make you feel down with my problem. I should be more like you. It’s the healthier way. Please show me how.”

“Baby steps,” you told him and took his hand into yours. “But first, let me prove to you how attractive I find you.”

“Maybe it will take you more than one time to convince me.”

“That’s fine.”

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct x you #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #jaehyun fluff

[sailor-aviator]

This request was inevitable, but can we see a Jake’s conversation with Mandy either the initial one where he calls things off or the one on the beach after Skipper leaves (I’m leaning towards the second one bc I love seeing him stand up for Skipper 🥺)

For you, my love? Anything 💛

Conversation One: Confronting Mandy the first time.

Jake bounced his leg nervously as he sat on the lone picnic table at the far edge of the pier. It wasn't that he wasn't sure about his decision, but he was more worried about what Mandy would do when she heard what he had to say.

"Alright, Jake. What did you want to talk to me about?"

Speak of the devil, and she shall appear, Jake thought with a smirk. He turned to see the brunette approach him, an unamused look on her face as she took him in.

He might have loved her at one point, but those days had long since passed. He thought back to his teens when he had first presented, so sure that he would spend the rest of his life with her. Their mothers had loved the idea, of course, having grown up as best friends themselves. Jake hadn't wanted to disappoint them, and so he had gone along with their idea, convincing himself that he could find happiness with Mandy.

But as the years stretched on, Jake found himself unable to believe the lies he had made for himself. He wasn't happy, and despite the idea of it being a perfect match, he couldn't bring himself to choose Mandy as his mate. A tiny voice inside him had always whispered at him to wait, that something good and pure was coming to him. And now he knew what, or who, it was.

"Well?" She snapped impatiently, crossing her arms as she glared at him. He took a deep breath.

"Mandy, it's over."

"What's over?" She asked him, annoyance palpable.

"Us. We're-we're done," he sighed, already feeling the weight lifting off of his shoulders. "I can't pretend that I'm happy anymore. It's not fair to either of us. You know it, and I know it. This wasn't meant to last."

"You're joking," Mandy laughed, eyebrows rising in disbelief. "Jake, you've tried this before and it didn't turn out the way you wanted, so why would this time be any different?"

"Because I found her, Mandy."

"Found who?"

"My mate," he murmured, his heart clenching at the word. He pictured your soft smile, the way your hands had gently picked up his gifts. "I found my true mate."

"Jake, be serious," she scowled. "True mates are as rare as they come, and you think that you of all people have found yours?"

Jake didn't say anything. He knew it sounded crazy. Hell, he hadn't quite believed it at first either, but he knew it was true. He felt it down to the very core of his being, and it scared him if he was being completely honest with himself. He hardly knew you, yet he was certain that he loved you. He loved you with everything he had, and he was determined to know why.

"Yes," he stated firmly, peering up at her. "She's mine, Mandy. You can't change fate."

"This isn't fate, Jake," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "This is you, finding something new, something you haven't had yet. I'll let you play around for now, but it's time to be serious. This will be your third frenzy, and you know what happens when you wait too long. Mine is coming next year."

Jake watched as she turned to walk away. She paused, looking over her shoulder at him.

"So, it's your choice," she smirked, a glint in her eye. "Will it be your frenzy or mine where we finally seal the deal?"

Conversation Two: Confronting Mandy on the beach.

Jake watched as you walked away, moving to chase after you, but Mandy stepped in his path. Her blue eyes swirled as they glowed with unbridled fury.

"Don't you dare," she hissed, pushing him back. He snarled at her, feeling his own rage boil to the surface at being kept away from you.

"Move," he growled, glaring down at her.

"That's not going to happen," she said, standing straighter, eyes narrowing up at him. "You marked her. You marked her and made me look like a fool."

"I can't make you look like a fool when there's nothing between us," he reasoned, and in a seemingly impossible feat, her expression managed to grow darker.

"You're mine, Jake Seresin," Mandy glowered. "You have been and always will be. You and I are the endgame, not some wannabe scientist."

"Mandy, we've talked about this-"

"Oh, get a grip, Jake!" she shrieked. "What am I going to have to do to get it through that thick head of yours that you and I are going to be mated? You can either get with the program now, or I can do something that'll help you get there."

Jake made to answer, but a song cut through the cool, summer breeze, one that Jake had never heard before.

It was a mating call, that much was certain, but Jake didn't recognize the voice. His brow furrowed as he listened, noting how the song sounded more bestial than usual. He made to move, but a hand on his chest stopped him.

"Leave it," Mandy growled, eyes intense as they looked at him. "It's not your concern."

Jake felt his skin crawl as the hand on his chest began to drift lower.

"Let me convince you of what it is you really want," she purred, leaning up to graze her lips against his. Jake felt like he was going to be sick as he pushed her away, Mandy stumbling back before regaining her balance. Jake was fairly certain his heart would have stopped right then and there if she possessed the ability to kill him with a look.

"I don't want you, Mandy," he scowled, pushing past her.

"We'll see about that," she murmured, eyes blazing. Jake paused, glancing back at her. "I'll make you understand what's going to happen."

"Skipper!"

Jake whirled around at the sound of your name being screamed by Nat, fear gripping at him with cold claws. He broke out into a sprint, leaving Mandy behind on the darkened beach, his only thoughts being to get to you before something happened.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #mmats #meet me at the sea #answered #goldenseresinretriever #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake seresin fic

[scribespirare]

Love the way you write flowerfang! Request: Miguel actually meeting Miles' parents! people always avoid it (for valid reasons) but I would love to see that confrontation. Maybe with 18+ year old Miles? So it's more of 'oh no age gap' rather than just 'oh no it's illegal'

Been getting lots of requests for Miguel to meet Miles' parents so I'm filling two at once here!

Also yallre so sweet ily 🥺 the sketchbook idea is one of my absolute favs b/c its just so sweet and fun.

The inevitable happens about a month before Miles turns 19.

“Tu casa es muy bonita,” Miguel says when he shakes the hand of Miles’ mom.

His mom turns that quick, sharp look of hers on Miles, part surprise part exasperation, before turning back to Miguel. “Miles no mencione que hablas español,” she says in that way that’s simultaneously a compliment to Miguel and an accusation to Miles. “Please, come in.”

When Miles was 15 he’d gotten this new sketchbook, right after all the fighting about the multi-verse had died down. He hadn’t bought it with anything in particular in mind, and he hadn’t even known what he wanted to draw the first time he’d cracked it open.

An hour later he’d been staring down at Miguel’s sharp features and was honestly a little confused about it.

The second and third times he’d drawn Miguel  had been even more confusing, and he’d shoved the book into the back of a drawer and tried to forget about it, limiting himself to practicing his graffiti letters on the margins of his notes.

The sketchbook saw light again when Miles and Miguel had gotten together right after Miles had turned 16. Miguel isn’t the only thing or person Miles draws in it, but he’s on basically every single page. Maybe it’s a little weird but hey it ain’t hurting anyone and Miguel is pretty okay? Not like, conventionally so. But the way he moves, the way he carries himself, the sharp, long lines of him in his suit…those things deserve to be committed to paper. That’s all Miles is saying.

Anyways, nobody was ever supposed to actually see this sketchbook. Miles still kept it in the back of a drawer most of the time, and had a primary book that he used more often too. But he’d taken it with him to the dorm and it was still in his bag when he’d visited last week and it had fallen out and open and…

Well, Miles is grateful the more explicit art hadn’t been on display, but Miguel is sill here for dinner. Miles wants to melt through the floor, or perhaps set off another collider just to get out of it. He’d talked to Miguel first of course, and they have their story straight about where they met (Miguel is a graduate student at Miles’ college), when (at the start of the year), and how long they’ve been together (five months).  They definitely didn’t get together when Miles was underage, no ma’am or sir, and Miguel totally isn’t a superhero from another dimension nope.

“Miles does have a tendency to leave things out,” Miguel agrees amiably as he comes inside. “Thanks for having me.” Out of his suit he’s not quite so a striking a figure, but he fills out his button-down and jeans well and practically towers over Rio. Even more surprising is when Miles’ dad, Jefferson, steps up to shake Miguel’s hand as well, and Miles has the realization that  Miguel towers over him too. Miles is the same height as his father now, even if he’ll never have Jefferson’s wider build, but in his mind that’s still his dad. Larger than life and stronger than anything. He doesn’t look fragile next to Miguel exactly but it’s a near thing.

Miles feels an elbow in his side and glances down at his mother, finding it difficult to shift his attention from where Miguel and his dad are exchanging awkward pleasantries. Sizing each other up, Miles thinks. His mother is also watching them but she glances up at Miles from the corner of her eye, smirks, says, “Eres como tu mama.”

She’s already heading for the kitchen by the time Miles catches her implication; that she chose a man three times her size, and now her son is following in her footsteps. He feels himself heat in embarrassment, and when he glances at Miguel he knows the man’s superior hearing picked the comment up too. Jerk.

“Vamos, boys!” Rio calls, successfully breaking Jefferson and Miguel apart. Miles isn’t even sure what they’d been talking about at this point and raises an eyebrow at his boyfriend in silent question. Miguel just shrugs as he falls in just behind Miles’ shoulder, following him into the dining room.

“Te pareces a ella, también,” Miguel murmurs, nearly making Miles trip.

Everyone please stop comparing me to my mother he thinks desperately because there’s no time for him to reprimand Miguel or his mother out loud. At least not without embarrassing himself further.

Rio hands them each a plate as they pass her on their way to the table. And because she will forever be Miles mother through and through, the first thing she says when she sits down is, “So, Miguel, ¿cuántos años tiene?”

Miles nearly does a spit take and his first bite hasn’t even reached his mouth yet.

If Miguel is put off by the question he doesn’t look it. Well, he looks mildly constipated but that’s kind of just his resting bitch face. “I’m thirty-six,” he replies evenly.

“Thirty-six!?” Jefferson repeats, aghast, and looks between Miguel and Miles. “No wonder Miles hasn’t said anything about you. Christ, you’re twice his age.”

Miles cringes, dropping his fork entirely. “Dad, please.”

“You father has a point,” Rio reprimands, but still turns and tells Jefferson, “Relax, baby. I’m sure Miguel is lovely.” Her gaze is sharp and warning when she tacks on, “But we’ll see.”

The table descends into awkward silence. Miles notices that Miguel isn’t eating, just pushing his food around on his plate. He clears his throat after a while and Miles wants to groan. This can’t be good.

“If it helps,” Miguel says haltingly, “I didn’t pursue him.  He’s…persistent.”

His parents give slow, reluctant agreement with this statement and Miles rolls his eyes. He wants to remind Miguel that he’s been more than enthusiastic since they got together, but then decides this is probably not an appropriate place nor audience. Instead Miles just awkwardly tries to get a conversation moving. One that doesn’t involve the elephant in the room, but still draws Miguel out of his shell a little so his parents see exactly how amazing he is.

Unfortunately, Miguel’s resting bitch face really doesn’t give up. Miles knows it’s because he’s nervous as hell, but his parents don’t.

By the time the plates are being cleared, the air is a lot less awkward. at least His parents seem reluctantly impressed by the fact that Miguel’s a geneticist and listen when he explains a few of the tamer experiments Miles knows he has going on. He makes it sound like they’re happening in an lab on campus and not in another universe, and also like he’s a PhD student. As far as cover stories go it’s pretty good.

“So how did you two meet?” Rio asks as she’s stacking everyone’s plates and passing them to Jefferson to take to the kitchen.

Immediately Miles perks up, because they practiced this. “He’s part of the mentor program for the undergrads! He got assigned to a friend of mine.”

At the exact same moment Miles says “Genke,” Miguel says, “Gwen.”

They both pause, Miles swiveling to stare wide-eyed at his boyfriend. “Uh,” he says. When he glances back at Rio her eyes are narrowed suspiciously. Thank fuck Jefferson is already in the kitchen and didn’t hear that. Mom senses are even better than cop senses but at least now it’s two on one instead of an even playing field.

“Gwen!” Miles corrects, smiling like nothing at all is wrong. “I meant to say Gwen! Man, it’s so hard having two friends with Gs names. Gotta give em nicknames or something,” he finishes lamely with a small, awkward laugh.

Rio’s suspicious look hasn’t eased. “No me digas,” she says, in that way that clearly means uh-huh, yeah, sure. Usually Miles hears that right before he’s grounded. But seeing as there’s company and also he’s eighteen, she just shakes her head. “I’m going to help your father clean up in the kitchen. There’s dessert though, so no te escapes, claro?”

“Si, mami,” Miles says obediently. “We’re not going anywhere.”

He sits very, very still until she’s finally out of the room. Then he drops his head head to the table with a long, dramatic groan. A moment later he feels Miguel’s big hand on his nape, squeezing gently in that way that makes Miles boneless.

“It’s not so bad,” his boyfriend murmurs. “I like them. They obviously care for you, and I’d be suspicious too if my kid brought home someone like me.”

Miles rocks his head to the side and glares up at Miguel. “You’re fucking amazing, and I want them to love you like I do.” He pauses, considers the words that just left his mouth, then adds, “Well, not exactly like I do, but still.”

The corner of Miguel’s mouth tilts up in a small smile, and it’s the most relaxed he’s looked all night. Miles desperately wants his parents to see this softer, caring side of Miguel.  “They’re certainly closer to my age than you are.”

Miles sits up so quickly it dislodges Miguel’s hand from his nape, and he narrows his eyes playfully. “Hey! My parents are off limits, old man.”

Miguel just smirks, the asshole, and then Rio and Jefferson are back so Miles can’t even say anything else without thoroughly embarrassing every single person at the table. He almost considers doing anyways it just to spite Miguel.

#asks #requests #flowerfang #deleting tags so maybe thisll show up

[silverbladexyz]

HIII I JUST WANTED TO SAY I LOVED UR UNREQUITED LOVE FICS I ATE THOSE UP SO GOOD

this isnt a request btw just some food for thought but how do u think chuuya and yasuko would react if reader came back but they werent exactly. themselves yk? like they got revived but almost like a sentient doll with no memories of the past? do you think they would leave the reader alone or would they try to reconnect with the reader ? again this isnt a request im just curious because sometimes my daydreams take a sudden turn !!! :D

HIII ANON AJSSHHSH AND I LOVE YOU FOR MAKING MY DAY BETTER 🥺🥺💞

And oooh... actually, I have already been thinking about making a bonus part similiar to your idea :) I just haven't had the time and creativeness to write it recently since school is keeping me very busy😭

BUT in response to your question, I think Chuuya might initially keep his distance from the reader first. Partly because he blames himself for their death because he didn't finish his mission sooner, and also partly because he doesn't want to lose them again. It hurts him a lot, but he convinces himself that it's the best decision to make to keep reader safe. However, I can see him secretly keeping a close eye on them so that if they were in danger, he could save them this time and not make the same mistake twice (Chuuya honey it wasn't your fault ajshahs 😭)

Then after bumping into him a few times, you wonder sometimes; why does this ginger-haired man seem so achingly familiar? And why did you feel this pain in your heart whenever you looked at him? Almost as if... he was a past lover you never got to be together with. But you shrug it off; there was no way you could've known such a handsome and rich man in your life, because if you did, you'd be sure to remember him for eternity ashajhhasj

Whilst Yasuko would feel immensely guilty upon seeing you. Even as you tilt your head to innocently inquire what was wrong, she can't bring herself to articulate all the shame, sorrow, and remorse that she felt ever since the day you died. I can see her accidentally forming a sort-of friendship with your revived self, but also keeping you at an arm's length because she thinks that she doesn't deserve to even call you as her friend. Half of her wants to atone for the wrongdoings she committed against you in the past, but the other half wants her to suffer with your unawareness because it's all her fault that you were gone. However, I can totally see her trying to get you and Chuuya together in this life 👀 wingwoman Yasuko for the win

Anyways, I can see both of them keeping their distance while also trying to rekindle those pleasant memories with you. But sooner or later, you'll come to question why they treated you differently from the rest of their friends. And when you confront them about it, maybe then you'll finally learn the painful truth as it all pours out of Yasuko's lips. What you do afterwards is all up to you.

WHEWW sorry for making that kinda angsty :') but hey, at least reader has a chance with Chuuya now. Just that they'll have to break down all those walls he has formed around himself, and finally win his heart that their past self never got the chance to hold. While Yasuko, Dazai, and the PM will be wingmanning the entire way.

I hope this was able to answer your question anon! :D

#silverbladexyz #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #unrequited love fic #angsty but happy ending? #hope you guys liked this hehe #ask #lovely anon

[the-possum-writes]

[Fionna and Cake Spoilers]

Look fam, Adventure time is my daily bread and butter, after catching up with 4 eps I have some... uh "opinions" on certain characters that I need to get out of my chest-

FINNN MY BOY LOOK AT YOU ALL GROWN UP 😭🤧🥺💕

I am so happy to see him again, and as much as I loved his adult Obsidian design I also have a liking to this one- he's so meaty I wanna brrrr those pecs and bite his arms. But also I feel so sad for him like, he's obviously distracting his grief for Jake by going from one adventure to another and, baby boy are you okay?? Lay on my shoulder and lets confront your feelings together 🥺

UMMM HELLO?? 😳🥴

Ahhh Huntress wizard was always my favorite background character and seeing NOT ONLY HER F&C COUNTER PART but he likes plants!? Sign me the fuc up, I adore Hunter, I would hike through thorny bushes and get bitten by mosquitos voluntarily if it means hanging out with this hunk as he talks non stop about different types of weeds and flowers 🥰

WHOO IS THIS NEW HOTTIE?

Brah from the cool mask to the suit I am just sold so easily like, I vibe so much with his design and his role as our main antagonist. Like don't get me wrong I don't want him to replace Prismo and kill Fi's world but if he calls me up to go eat steak and drink tea I would answer in a heart beat. Gotta love a man who has his professional priorities in order. Also that bandaged look he had at the beginning was really cool too, with the multiple eyes and all.

Oh, dear precious Simon you can't catch a break can you? Let's wrap you up in a blanket so you can talk to me about you ex, we'll get ya through this buddy 🥺

DAMN BITCH YOU LIVE LIKE THIS?

I wasn't huge on Prismo as a character in AT but in F&C I can totally understand the need to create something original and for yourself rather than creating for the sake of others. I'd love to move in as a roomie and help him clean up a bit, I can't take him to AA meetings but I can bring them to him lol. Maybe creating sentient universes isn't a good idea but the Sims 4 is close enough.

GIRL, SHE IS JUST LIKE ME FR FR

I can relate so much to Fi's daily life omg, I started watching Adventure Time when I was in middle school so seeing her now in a similar setting as my early adult life is so wild and comforting to me. She has a special place in my heart, oh and she caked up like damn, in the og series she didn't strike me as a teen but I can definitely see her now as a grown ass woman. And in shorts! I love wearing shorts, they're so comfy. I wanna hang at a sleep over with her, watching dumb action or scary movies, eat ice cream as we talk about our break ups ;w;

That's about it, thank you to my Ted talk. I'll try to finish my requests as soon as I can to open my inbox again cause damn, I can't wait to see what you guys come up with!!! 11!

#ramblings

[circular-time]

More The Power of the Doctor tidbits from LI Who panels before I forget.

Major spoilers to some of the big reveals in that story, so I'm gonna cut this, just in case.

The scenes with Ace and Tegan speaking to their hologram-Doctor were a bit complicated: their Doctor(s) weren't there on the day (and at any rate Syl couldn't have climbed up where Sophie was; that bit was a real cave),

Janet was stuck with a PA reading Peter's lines while she acted her heart out to a camera.

But Sophie asked if Barnaby Edwards could crawl out of the Dalek where he's usually ensconced and read Sylvester's lines. So he perched on a rock out of her line of sight and performed the scene with her, and with that she could "see" Sylvester in front of her. As you may know, I'm fond of Barnaby, as apparently is Sophie; so that made me go 🥺

Sophie drove to Cardiff from Birmingham to Cardiff the day Sylvester was recording his parts at his request to read HER lines, although she wasn't recording them. She did that, went back to the trailer, then said, "Hang on... I don't wanna go!" So she went back and asked if she could watch.

The director soon asked her— saying she certainly could refuse! — if she would mind reading some of the other parts. "Rather!" She wound up "Sitting on that rock, being all the Doctors, and Jodie would come in and do her bit!" She said Janet and (I think?) Jemma were there for part of the day as well, so it turned into a sort of Doctor Who convention, especially because a lot of the crew themselves were fans.

Oh right. When she and Janet FIRST arrived... first of all a lot of the crew was too young to have seen them, so they were surprised at the warm welcome. But also, they were invited to enter the TARDIS before anyone else. Because you really do enter it through that door. And so Janet and Sophie went in first and got to play with the console. "You could actually push the buttons!" "When you moved a control, it didn't break off in your hand!" Janet: "I had TARDIS Envy."

A fan asked Janet how Tegan survived the fall, saying that was the one thing she didn't understand in that special. Janet: "The one thing!?"

Sophie's husband knew, but her sons didn't. Except one asked why she was going to Cardiff SO MUCH to film Blu-Ray extras. "You really want me to tell you?" "No, I don't want to know!" The second son almost caught on: "Mom, why is Ace's jacket not in its usual place in your closet?" "I've loaned it to someone." (Not a lie, it was with the costume designer in Cardiff.)

Sophie keeps some bits of Dalek she busted plus the jacket. Also that gorgeous painting from Ghost Light, although she had to find a new frame since the BBC kept that, It's in her guest room, and people assume it's an ancestor!

Janet grumbled at Sophie wanting to be an action hero (she was hoping to rice s motorcycle since she missed out doing it on TV before but was thrilled at the parachute jump). Janet's knees were not happy with running up and down stairs (my arthritis had noticed that). They both had doubles, but Sophie insisted on doing everything; she was having far too much fun.

Both of them were positively gushing about Sacha Dhawan's acting and his Master being "utterly unhinged." A bit of a challenge for them, since they're used to acting with rehearsals, whereas now one just meets the other actors, may do a quick bit of blocking for the camera, then go, and you simply have to respond via improv with no idea what the other actors are planning.He altered his performance slightly every take, giving the director different things to play with.

As I mentioned in another post, Janet was worried because she hadn't acted in 35 years (with Big Finish they have scripts in front of them) and wasn't sure she could memorize. She flubbed the first line, let out "an Australian expletive" and Jodie said "I'm going to like you."

The director kept pushing Janet to make her initial confrontation with the Doctor more angry/cranky. Every time she did it, he'd say "more" and she'd ramp it up a notch. She was a little worried about it, but in the theater Tegan's cranky lines got laughter and applause, which relieved her, because she always thought Tegan was rather funny.

The companion group gathering was a joy. Katy sailed in with carrot cake. Originally there was supposed to be a laptop on the empty chair with some othet companions. Sophie liked fans' suggestion it was for Sarah Jane.

William Russell is really struggling with dementia. His daughter brought him, and the "family" of companions kind of looked after him. He got stuck apologizing over and over after spilling his drink, but John Bishop sat down with him and repeated his lines with him to help him through. (It sounds to me like there may have been another that was cut.)

Jodie didn't have any scenes that day, she just couldn't stay away. (there's a bts group photo with her.)

[softtdaisy]

EVERY BREATH EVERY HEARTBEAT

DESCRIPTION I when gwen has to leave, she asks peter to come and take care of you. there is just one problem: you hate peter parker.

PAIRING I tasm!peter parker × fem!reader

WORD COUNT I 5k

A/N I a massive thank you to my lovely @burnthoneymint​ who accepted to beta read this story. She made it so much better, thank you so much ily 🥺  this story contains a toxic relationship, if you’re in one and you need to talk about this, you can send me a dm I know what it’s like 🥺💛

WARNING I tw toxic relationship tw anxiety

You hated Peter Parker.

A fact that made the whole cohabitation thing rather difficult.

It was either that or Gwen not accepting her dream internship offer in London. And there was no way you would prevent your best friend from living her dream. You tried to convince her that you didn’t need a babysitter to take care of you while she was away. You weren’t a baby, for God’s sake!

But your nightmares were saying otherwise. So, when she had told you she found someone to stay in her room while she was gone, you had no other choice than to accept. You thought it couldn’t be that bad to have another roommate.

You had no idea that Gwen would ask the only person you couldn’t bare being in the same room with to look after you and of course, she didn’t tell you that Peter was coming. Not even before she left. You found out the next morning, when you woke up and saw him sitting on your couch. Eating breakfast.

“What the hell.”

Those were the first words you said to Peter in years. He looked up at you with a big smile, his mouth full of cereal. You didn’t give him the chance to talk to you before heading straight to the kitchen.

Gwen had a ton of friends. She could have asked anyone. But she decided that it would be better for you to confront your feelings instead. And you hated that.

You could see Peter from where you stood, your kitchen being open to the living room. You couldn’t believe he looked exactly the same. It almost felt like he graduated from high school yesterday. He still had the same messy brown hair that he kept running his fingers through. Now that you took a closer look maybe he was a tad bit more muscular– Who were you kidding, you knew he was. He definitely didn’t have those perfect toned arms back then. And thanks to the white shirt he had so casually thrown on, you could clearly tell that his chest and back had increased in muscle mass too.

Of course, he still had this sarcastic look lingering in his eyes that drove you mad just like the old days. Peter Parker was still the same person he was in high school.

And you still hated him all the same.

“So, it’s you.” You put yourself right in front of the TV to block his line of vision. Despite that his smile never wavered.

You couldn’t believe you had to live with Peter for weeks. How were you not supposed to burst out in a fit of rage when he just sat there? Eating his dumb cereal with that dumb look on his face?  When he didn’t answer you and simply went back to eating his cereal, you knew this was going to be a living hell.

“I can’t do this.” you added, breaking the silence and leaving the room altogether.

You didn’t leave your room all day, not caring about what he might be doing all alone in your apartment. You even pretended that you didn’t care if he brought someone here or not. You just didn’t care. You were going to ignore Peter just like you did all those years ago.

Or at least you thought.

It was 1 a.m. and you couldn’t sleep. Every time you attempted to close your eyes, you were trapped in a nightmare. It’s been going on for weeks now and you were about to reach your limit and start to hit your head against the wall to finally knock yourself unconscious to get some good night's rest. You hated the fact that you’ve become so fragile and broken, but it wasn’t your fault. How could you ever blame yourself for meeting such an awful person?

Just as you closed your eyes for the nth time that night, you heard a massive explosion in, you assumed, your living room. The loud sound was followed by a ‘Holy fucking shit’. You jumped immediately, shaking from the fear of having someone in your apartment. How did he come in? What was he going to do? Unknowingly you grabbed the sheets so hard that your knuckles had turned white. This couldn’t be it– You almost had a heart attack when your door slammed open. This was the end.

You were 100 % sure your ex was there, ready to exact his revenge on you.

Turned out it was just Peter, in his Star Wars shirt and boxer.

He immediately ran to you and grabbed your face with his hands. The inside of his palms were damp, he must’ve just washed them before rushing here, you loved the feeling of  water against your skin. Especially now when your face was burning, it helped you calm down. Peter was absolutely frantic about what just happened.

“Are you alright?” he asked over and over, until you finally nodded, realizing that Peter was talking to you. “I heard you scream, I thought something happened.”

You didn’t notice you were screaming. It wasn’t the first time. At least that was what Gwen told you. At that moment you realized that she had stopped telling you about it so you wouldn’t feel bad and not because you stopped screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night.

When one of Peter’s hands slid down your arm, you didn’t hesitate and nuzzled close.  You needed to feel safe and convince your brain that it was only Peter. Not somebody else.

Peter was confused at first. You haven’t spoken to him all day and now you were in his arms? It wasn’t part of the plan. Well, there wasn’t exactly a plan per se,  only Gwen telling him that he needed to stay here and take care of you. He slowly placed his hand on your back to steady your body against his. You were still shaking, and it was quite devastating for him to witness. Peter always saw you as this strong girl that could punch a guy without hesitation. He never saw you cry. The worst part of this all was that he knew you would hate yourself next morning for crying in front of him.

But he would gladly accept this hate if it made you feel better.

“Let’s go back to sleep, okay?” he whispered in your ear. He didn’t let you answer before slowly laying you back on your bed. You were still pressed against his chest. Since you weren’t trying to escape his arms, Peter thought that you didn’t mind. His free hand ended up on your hair, brushing it slowly to help you relax. He had no idea what you liked. He wished he did.

You never imagined you would fall asleep in Peter’s arms. But you had to admit it was pretty reassuring. His arms felt strong around your body, and you could feel the heat of his chest against you. You had a hard time being close to anyone like this, except for your best friend. But weirdly, being with Peter right now felt right.

Falling asleep, you remembered the days when you were sitting next to him in class. You had no idea if he was using the same kind of shower gel, but he smelt just like he did back then. Suddenly you were a teen again and your problems all disappeared. The only person in your world was Peter Parker.

Peter slept a good hour in your bed. He didn’t even realize he was until he woke up and felt your breath against his neck. That was definitely not what he had planned when he came here. It took him a few seconds to remember why he was even in your room. You were more relaxed now from when he came in. He hesitated between staying here to make sure you would be alright or leaving. But Peter thought you would be mad at him if you woke up together the next morning. So, after he gave you a forehead kiss he couldn’t resist, he got up and went to his bedroom. And his bed never felt emptier.

When Peter woke up the next morning, you were already in the living room. It was a sight he had to get used to: your computer on your thighs and a coffee cup next to you. You didn’t even look up.

You were ashamed that out of all the people in the world, Peter Parker was the one who saw you at your lowest. Moreover, you were ashamed to hate him so much when he hasn’t been anything but nice to you last night. He could have left you alone. You wouldn’t even have told Gwen if he didn’t take care of you. You weren’t expecting anything from Peter. Even less for him to kiss your forehead so softly. You weren’t sure it actually happened. You just felt it. But when he entered the room this morning, it was like your whole body was screaming; it happened girl!

You appreciated that Peter didn’t say a single thing about last night. No “you’re feeling better?” No, “you slept good?” No, “so you slept in my arms, hm?” Peter acted like it didn’t happen and it was exactly what you wanted. Maybe you should work on that hate after all.

Or maybe not. Working next to him was worse than you imagined.

“Turn off the TV.” You hissed between your teeth.

Peter was clearly playing on your nerves and he knew what he was doing. You could tell from the mischievous smile spreading across his face. He propped his legs above the table and crossed them as if he owned the place.  You were going to kill this man.

“Come take the remote if you want to turn it off so bad.” He finally answered, his eyes glued to the screen.

He wanted to play, did he now? Fine, you were a good player.

You put your computer to the side and started prowling towards Peter to grab the remote he held tightly in his hand. The same hand that was moving as far away as it could from you. His laugh echoed alongside your annoyed groans, you almost thought of placing a right between his legs to shut him up but decided against it. Why were you stuck with the worst human on earth?

You almost grabbed the remote when your phone started ringing. And suddenly, it was as if the world stopped. You couldn’t hear the TV nor Peter’s voice who was asking about the caller ID. You couldn’t tell who it was from there. But you were too scared to see. He couldn’t call you, Gwen had taken care of that by blocking his number, but you knew he would use private numbers to reach you.

It wasn’t until your phone stopped ringing that you sat back and finally looked at the caller ID. “unknown.” Of course. You had no idea how long you stood silently still, looking straight at the wall, trying to calm yourself down. When you felt a hand on your thigh, you almost jumped despite knowing it was Peter. But his hand didn’t slide to your inner thigh, not like your ex used to do. You knew you were safe.

“You want to talk about it?” he asked in a low voice.

Peter knew that sometimes it was terrifying to talk about issues. Because actually voicing them out made them feel more real r and it forced you to face them. He didn’t want to force you. Not when you couldn’t even look him in the eyes if it’s not to insult him. But right now, he seemed to be the only person around you. And he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy to stay silent for weeks.

“What did Gwen tell you exactly?” you shifted your gaze to face Peter.

One thing you remembered about the past was that he was incapable of lying when he was face to face with someone. He could, of course. But it didn’t work when the person he was lying to knew how he wetted his lips again and again as he tried to find the perfect lie. The perks of seeing your best-friend with her boyfriend all the time.

“Not much.” He shrugged. “She said that you needed someone to stay with you while she was away. When I asked why you couldn’t stay alone, she said that you were not at your best and that she didn’t like the idea of you being lonely. She probably thought she wasn’t the one to tell me what your problem was, and I respect that.”

Peter’s eyes couldn’t leave yours; it was like he was afraid to disturb the moment. When Gwen told him that she didn’t want to leave you alone, he really thought she was messing with him. Why would you need someone? Now he understood that Gwen was sincerely scared for you and Peter could now see why. “I also respect it if you don’t want to tell me either. I’m good.”

“I dated my ex, Sam, for about a year. If you ask Gwen, she’ll tell you she knew from the very beginning that something was wrong with the guy.”

You laughed about it, it was a bitter laugh. Deep down you wished you had listened to her when she told you to be careful about Sam. When Peter took your hand, you realized you were scratching your skin. Something you do every time you start to talk about the whole situation.

“Everything was fine between us. But he started to change in the last couple of months, he became more…possessive. He wanted to see my phone all the time to make sure I wasn’t texting another guy. He kept it with him when we were hanging out, so he knew I wouldn’t be talking to anyone else. Not even Gwen. I was supposed to be completely focused on him.”

You could almost hear him say you’re my girlfriend, I’m the most important person in your life. Not anybody else. A shiver climbed up your spine.

“He had the passwords to all my social media, in case I was trying to hide the affair that I wasn’t having. Sometimes he texted me if he saw me online, to know who I was talking to. I could barely go out without him because he was so sure I would find another man. I had to text him all the time to convince him that I wasn’t cheating.” You rolled your eyes at this, trying to make it sound less pathetic than it was to you.

But in the end, you did feel pathetic agreeing to all of this from the start. And you thought Peter was probably thinking the same. Fearfully, you looked at him, you noticed the change in his expression. He looked angry, frustrated almost. He was gritting his teeth so hard that you wondered when he would start to bleed.

“One day I tried to break up with him, I couldn’t deal with all his possessiveness anymore. But…he threatened to jump off the window. He literally sat on the border, ready to jump if I left him and I… I couldn’t have his death weighing on my conscience!” Your voice broke at that moment. You had to bite your tongue to silence your sobs. “After that I started becoming more scared and stressed about him. I was scared about what he might do if I left him… If he didn’t hurt himself, who was he going to hurt? Me? The person I’m seeing? One night he came here, and Gwen noticed how anxious I was about it. When he refused to leave, she called the police.”

You could almost hear Gwen again, how she told you that she would have been more careful about him and how she was going to beat the hell out of him if he ever came back.

“They put a restraining order against him. Which is already a good thing but it’s not like I have a police officer in front of my door 24/7. Well, I had Gwen, it’s quite the same.” You laughed a little but clearly Peter didn’t find this humorous. You might’ve regretted this later on, but you placed your hand on top of his. Trying to convince him that it was fine. But you had to convince yourself first which was even harder. “It will get better. Don’t worry about it.”

Since Peter wasn’t answering, you decided to leave the room. You grabbed your computer and locked yourself in your bedroom. You didn’t need Peter’s pity. For a few minutes, you forgot about your hate for him.

Or more exactly, the reason why you hated him.

The next following days were quite confusing for Peter. He almost didn’t see you at all since you were leaving your bedroom only to get coffee in the morning or to take a shower. Something that you did either early in the morning when he was still sleeping or late at night when you heard his door closing. He understood it the first night. He still didn’t want to confront you about your feelings, so he accepted that.

Yet, Peter Parker wasn’t a doll you could play with. He was still living here. And he’d hate to leave the place without being on good terms with you.

So, one night, he waited for you. He closed his door and stood in the hallway; his arms crossed against his chest. When you left your room, you were definitely not ready to come across Peter. You jumped at the sight of him and cursed under your breath.

“What are you doing here?” you knew you sounded silly, complaining about your roommate being outside his bedroom.

“Why do you hate me?” he sounded more confused than he wanted to. But he couldn’t help it. No matter how hard he tried, Peter couldn’t put his finger on the thing he did that made you hate him like this.

You were caught off guard by his unprompted question and tried to escape the whole situation. There was no way you would admit it, especially not to him. But whenever you tried to move around him, he stopped you. It was getting on your nerves.

“Leave me alone.” You mumbled but when he grabbed your wrist, you knew you were doomed. Peter was way too strong for you to escape and you would either hurt yourself or him if you tried. And the whole temporary-roommates situation would be ruined.

“Fine, you want to know?” you snarled, venom in your voice. “It was because I loved you, Peter!”

You looked Peter straight in the eyes. If that was what he wanted to hear, fine, you were playing into his little game. Peter’s silence wasn’t the answer you were expecting. You never thought confessing would actually give you some kind of relief, getting drunk on honesty, you started to spill your guts.

“I was head over heels in love with you back in high school. I was so used to getting my heart broken by assholes that suddenly, seeing you, the nice and discreet guy next to me in class was like a dream come true. But I was too scared that you wouldn’t want me back. Nobody knew about it. Not even Gwen. She only knew I liked a guy from school and one day she said I should write you a letter. I didn’t want to. But guess what? I did. I fucking did Peter.”

You inched closer to him and placed your first against his chest. You could see the confusion in his eyes, but it didn’t matter. You were back in high school with a broken heart and false hopes.

“The very same day I put the letter in your locker, you started seeing Gwen. I felt so stupid, I didn’t want to break up her new relationship. All I wanted was to take it back. I thought that the day you would come talk to me about this, we would have found a solution.”

You lowered your gaze to the floor. You remembered waiting every single day for Peter to say something. Anything. Analyzing every look he gave you. Hoping that the two of you would at least be able to act like nothing happened. For some reason, you kept having hopes that he would say he loved you too even if it wasn’t fair to Gwen.

“The worst thing about this was that you never acknowledged my feelings. I was nothing to you Peter and it was probably worse than you just rejecting me.”

Peter, ever so slowly, hooked a finger under your chin and pushed your downcasted gaze up to meet his gaze. You frowned but only for a few seconds. His subtle touch had managed to calm you down. Peter felt like he was in another universe. Everything you had just confessed seemed so unreal.

“I never got your letter.” it was barely a whisper, as if he was scared you were going to run away the second you understood what he was saying. And when you parted your lips, he didn’t hesitate to push a finger against the to silence you. “If I did, I would never have ignored you or your feelings [y/n]. Even if I was with Gwen. I would have preferred talking about this a million times than seeing you avoiding me like I killed your whole family.” When you rolled your eyes, he pressed his finger a little bit harder on your lips, smiling. “You know it’s true.”

“That doesn’t tell me where my letter is.” You finally said as Peter moved his finger away from your lips. But it was a question Peter didn’t know the answer to. He was curious to know how it could have disappeared from his locker. Nobody had access to it except him…right?

“Do you mind letting me take my shower now?” you asked, and moved out of your way, still slightly dazed. So, you’ve been in love with him all this time. Maybe everything wasn’t lost for him.

Peter suddenly moved past you and entered your room, you stared at him in complete shock, mouth ajar as he looked around.

“You know what’s funny…” he began, moving towards the bed.

You were definitely going to kill Peter Parker in his sleep.

“You hated me because you loved me.” Now he was sitting on your bed, his back pressed snug against the wall and his legs dangling off of the side.

He looked comfortable and you had to stop yourself from joining him on the bed. How many times did you dream of Peter being in your room at night? You slightly shook your head, trying to empty your mind as you attempted to shoot your best glare at him.

“So, you found it so funny that you decided to stay there?”

“No, I have another question for you.”

You sighed and decided to not look at him anymore. Ignoring him was maybe the best idea, you just had to do your thing. That was what you had been doing all your life anyway so why stop? You just had to keep ignoring him.

“Can I stay there tonight?”

You dropped everything you were holding to the floor, you definitely heard that wrong. There was no way.

“What did you just say?” you turned around to look at him. You were so sure that he would have this smug expression that you were almost surprised when you saw actual sincerity.

“I’m not playing with your feelings; so please stop any plans you’re working on to kill me. I heard you crying the night before and…you seemed to sleep well when I was here so…”

He looked down, playing with his fingers. Peter didn’t mean any wrong, he really wanted you to feel better. You slowly started to realize that you’ve been misjudging him all these years. He was probably right; he never got your letter and that was the reason why he never said anything. Maybe Peter Parker was a good guy in the end.

You simply nodded to accept his request. You noticed the smile on his face before he went back on his phone, waiting for you. Neither of you said a word until you were both laying on the bed next to each other.

He was right, you were more reassured when he was around. He was laying on his back, and you were on your side, looking at him. He put his arm around you naturally, like you’ve been doing this all your life.

“This doesn’t mean I still love you, Peter.”

“Sure” he laughed before kissing your forehead. This felt so right that you couldn’t help but dream about a life where you never met Sam and Peter was all you’ve known, that he was your boyfriend since the beginning. Your life could’ve been so much better if you had the courage to say you love him back then.

Or even now.

When you woke up the next morning, you were alone in your bed. Well, except for the little piece of paper that said, “went to the grocery store, I can’t with Gwen’s gluten free stuff anymore.” You laughed, not surprised but also grateful that he left when you weren’t awake. He was trying his best with you, and it’s been a long time since a man tried.

You wished you could spend your morning in this good mood. Just hoping for Peter to come back so you could see how this new friendship would work.

You were still making coffee when you heard a loud banging against the door.

“[y/n]! I know you’re in there! Open up please!”

Your mug slipped from your fingers and crashed against the floor, shattering into a million pieces. You recognized Sam’s voice. He had no right to be here. But he probably knew you were alone. You froze in the middle of the kitchen. All you could hear was your name being shouted for all to hear, he continued to knock on the door, loud bangs echoing within the apartment and making you tremble. You were so scared that he would break it and come in to get you. You were actually living out one of your worst nightmares.

When you started to calm down, breathing in and out, you ran to your bedroom. You had to call the police. But you were shaking too much, you couldn’t even keep your phone in your hands. Just before you dialed the number, you heard a massive crash. You closed your eyes, ready to see Sam coming here and grabbing you.

But instead you hear Peter’s voice, even from here.

“Get out of here shithead.”

Peter couldn’t care less about the grocery bags he dropped to the floor. The only thing he focused on was the man in front of the door, screaming out your name. It didn't take him long to guess who this obnoxious man was. Lunging forward, Peter grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall.

“You’re not welcome here, in case you didn’t notice.” If he could hear himself, he probably wouldn’t recognize his own voice.

“Who the hell are you?”

Peter hated the arrogant smile on this guy’s, Sam’s, face. How this asshole felt superior in front of him. When Peter imagined all the awful things he did to you, he didn’t hesitate and crashed his fist against Sam’s face. Peter couldn’t believe he was the reason you were so scared of leaving your house. This man deserved to die or to go to prison. Or to die in prison. But not to be around you, that was for sure.

Sam was now on the floor, groaning in pain, Peter grabbed him by the collar again, making sure he was listening to him.

“You have no right to be here. So, you have three choices. Either you leave now, or you stay, and I call the police. Or I beat the hell out of you so hard they won’t recognize you in the street anymore. Which one do you choose?”

Peter wasn’t amused when Sam pursed his lips and spitted on his face, he responded by hitting him again, this time square on the jaw. The shy and discreet Peter Parker was long gone when the people he cared for, especially you, were in danger.

“Fine. I’ll leave.” the man groaned, rubbing his jaw. Sam staggered as he got up, Peter was trying hard not to hit him again. “But if this bitch decides to…”

He never got to finish his sentence. Sam only managed to take a couple of steps forward before Peter tripped him and watched him falling to his knees.

“You should leave. Now.”

Peter stayed in front of the door until he was completely out of view. But before he could actually open the door you beat him to it.  

“You heard everything, right?” he asked, his back still facing you. Instead of answering with words, you wrapped your shaking arms around his body and pressed your face against his back.

“I did. Thank you.”

What surprised him more was when you gave him a little kiss on the neck. Peter immediately turned red, but he wasn’t ashamed to show you the effect you had on him.

Peter turned around and cupped your face between his hands, like he did the first night.

“I guess you don’t hate me anymore.”

He knew you didn’t. Or at least he hoped you didn’t. But looks didn’t lie and by that he knew he was right.  

Your eyes were shining looking at his beautiful face. The face of a man that proved to you that love wasn’t that bad and that maybe, just maybe, you could trust someone new.

“I can work on that.” You simply replied before hugging him again.

You used to hate Peter Parker. Now his arms were the only comfort you needed.

#tasm!Peter Parker x reader #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x you #Peter Parker fic #Peter Parker fanfiction #Peter Parker x y/n #tasm!Peter Parker x y/n #tasm!Peter Parker fiction #tasm!Peter Parker fic #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter fic #andrew garfield x reader #Andrew Garfield #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield imagine #peter parker #tasm!peter parker #the amazing spiderman #my writing

[ninadove]

Opening line patterns 📝

List the first line of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern.

Thank you for the tag, @bittersweetresilience!

Let’s proceed by order of updates (skipping Shadow Strike because my beloved @paracosmicat wrote the incipit)!

God Games ⚡️

If anyone could fend off an akuma, then surely, it had to be Felix.

So proud of this one. The entire premise is here: Felix just doesn’t get akumatised, so what’s the deal?

It’s also a testament to how strong he is in his cousin’s eyes. Fitting, as this entire fic is about Adrien learning how much Felix actually needs him.

Blueberry passion fruit 🫐🍪

Felix prayed this was not another false lead.

He loves his cousin! He’s been searching for him for so long!! He double-checks even the most improbable hints because Adrien’s absence is a gaping wound in his chest!!! I’m so normal about them.

True to Your Heart ⚔️

The wall had been Fu’s idea.

(So you know it’s a terrible one right away.)

I think there's a flaw in my code (Gasoline/Spy AU) 🔥

“You duped me.”

With this one, we begin in medias res! (That’s actually the title of the first chapter.) This entire first part focuses on the confrontation between Argos and Ryuko, and how we got to that point. Emotions are boiling over, as you can see.

Here’s to Never Growing Up 🧸

“Your niece was uncharacteristically excited tonight.”

You can immediately tell this one is going to be pure fluff! You can also infer Felix and Kagami don’t have children of their own, and they’re perfectly happy with it. Emilie could never.

All the shine of a thousand spotlights 🎼

“Did you know waltzing was once considered indecent?”

It’s about the hypocrisy of ever-changing social expectations. It’s about defiance as a form of love. It’s about holding each other tight and gently all at once. It’s about Felix infodumping, because I do it too!

Turntable 💍

“So, you like to be onstage.”

This one… The torture of your abuser holding and using your very nature against you. This first chapter is one of the darkest things I’ve ever written, but it’s always darkest before the dawn.

Escape from the city and follow the sun 🌅

Kagami only wanted one thing from that evening: to not get akumatised.

This poor sweetheart is heartbroken but trying to put up a brave face… She’s convinced her emotions are inherently monstrous… If only someone swooped in to sweep her off her feet… 🥺

Change targets 💐

“No one can know.”

This one is best explained in context:

“No one can know.”

That ship had sailed already. Knuckles white against the pedestal table, careful not to crease the napkin as another coughing fit broke her, Kagami cursed her own lack of discretion.

What she really meant was:

“My mother cannot know.”

Brave, Truthful, and Unselfish 🧸

“… And they lived happily ever after. The end.”

My favourite of the bunch! 💚💜 Fitting that it would be saved for the end.

Storyteller Felix is so dear to me, because we get to see him breaking narrative rules in his quest for freedom, love and happiness. Here, this is manifested by his starting at the end of the tale, ergo flipping the structure entirely. Iconic.

And of course, it’s foreshadowing for Emotion… All he’s ever wanted was to live happily ever after with Adrien. He’s just a child…

OK now let’s talk ✨ statistics ✨

6 of these fics start with dialogue

5+ begin in medias res (it really depends on your definition of the term)

POVs: 5 for Kagami, 3 for Felix, 1 for Adrien and 1 for Fu randomly

All of these tell us something about the characters’ psychology and emotional state. Yes even the stupid Fu one. He’s so proud of himself and does not imagine for a second this world’s Shan Yu is about to breach through his beloved wall. Pathetic.

No false modesty here: I’m really happy with all of these. I used to struggle so badly with incipits, yet here we are! 💜📝

@paracosmicat @jay--hawk @yardikins @capricious-lily @piromina you should do this too!

#I wrote this half-awake and keep thinking of new writer friends to tag #miraculous ladybug #felix graham de vanily #adrien agreste #senticousins #kagami tsurugi #feligami #colt fathom #master fu #ask games #writing #nina writes

[lightlycareless]

How are the l/n siblings and their dad going to react if (IF) y/n will have a baby (or more 😶) with naoya

With the current events, everyone will go crazier if they get to hear that Naoya and Y/N are expecting, or have a kid already—but we already knew that didn’t we? The good stuff is how they would react during better terms 😏

I think Y/N would keep the fact that she and Naoya want to have a baby in the beginning, Ren being the first one you’d tell.

You’d ask him to meet up in a café, with the excuse of just wanting to catch up, apparently nothing else—and then, you'd drop the bomb on him.

“There’s something I want to tell you” you begin, and your brother immediately tenses up. Nobody likes to be confronted like that, so anxiety is quick to shoot to the sky.

“Sure… what’s up?” He asks hesitantly, it’s not like he wanted to know but… well, he had to do it.

And the way he sees you falter for a second just makes him worry even more, like, does he need to beat up someone?? Are you dying??? Or worse, does it have to do with Naoya??

Yep, that's exactly it, but I don't think any kind of anticipation would have prepared him for what your about to say.

"Naoya and I are trying for a baby"

Ren would be the kind of person to snort out whatever he was drinking due to the shock of your statement.

He doesn't know what to say, but thankfully your excitement for having a family with the man you love is too big to notice anything else.

"That's wonderful" is what he settles for eventually, and while he was 100% shocked at the beginning, he'll slowly grow more supportive of you, and who knows… maybe he'll convince his gf to start a family too :) the idea of raising his kid alongside yours, having birthday parties together, going to the park and whatnot, is super cute to him.

Hinata, on the other hand, will resent you not because you're trying to have a family with one of the people she only tolerates for your sake, but rather, because you gave her a mental image she didn't want to have 😭😭

What I mean is that she's the kind of person that would look weird at a teacher after they announce they're pregnant. She'd be like "oh my god… they did that" and it's exactly the same with you.

More so if you're like "we're trying really hard "

She's going to deny it, but everyone knows Hinata is a huuuuuuge pervert when it comes to those things, and whenever she sees the two together, she'll only think about how you're "trying so hard" to have a baby.

Nonetheless she'll be very supportive, and can't wait to be the cool aunt :) Hinata and Ren will compete for your kid's attention.

Lastly, but not least… your dad. Eiichi is going to have the toughest time mainly because he cannot accept you're growing up. I mean, just a few weeks ago you were still going to middle school… right?? Right????

When did you grow so big???? You're married now???. And having a family too?!

But at the end of the day, he'll be very happy for you, because let's say he wasn't particularly fond of bringing Naoya into the mix… but after getting to know him a bit better, seeing how he treats you, and hearing of your decision to have a family with him, all reassures him he's a good partner and soon, a good father.

The only thing that saddens him is that his wife, your mom, won't be there to see it… but he'll be sure to make up for it by spoiling his grandchild twice as necessary. That kid is going to be the most loved, spoiled, cherished, adored child in the whole world, and it makes you super happy that after everything, you're finally able to have a happy family :)

This was very sweet anon, I have hope for the future 🥺❤️ and you got me right in my baby fever eraaaaaaaa prepare to get more stuff like this 😈

Thank you so much for sending in an ask!! Take care and hope to see you soon ❤️

#ask #ask series: first it hurts— #first it hurts—: ren #first it hurts—: hinata #first it hurts—: eiichi #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fic

[weebsinstash]

*sighs as I add the yandere Batfam to my Blorbo list* do y'all ever have such a genuinely unsatisfying life and childhood you start for whatever reason vicariously living through age regression ideas where you're literally raised by other people

Like imagine you're a superhero/vigilante but you're fairly small time and you've actually bumped into Batman a handful of times and, he actually likes you, your heart is in the right place, and through some wacky villain shenanigans or some Lazarus Pit fuckery, you get zapped by a ray gun or hit wirh a spell or "resurrected wrong" and suddenly Bruce has to deal with a de-aged you, a teenager without their adult memories and aged back to before you developed your skills or your metagene that gave you your powers

And here's Batman already shoving adopted children into his pockets like breadsticks at olive garden "oh no, ANOTHER orphan/kid with a horrible childhood in need of a home? Whatever shall we do. Oh no my hand slipped and I already texted Alfred to prepare a room to stay and oh no my Waynazon shopping list is suddenly full of new furniture and gifts and clothes and i already emailed Dick and Barabaras university so you can get a better education and oh wow just what is going on this is so weird"

Alfred standing by with his dry wit whenever Reader gets hormonal or does typical teenager things "ah yes, yelling 'I hate you' and slamming doors, I definitely didn't have enough of this experience raising you, Master Wayne" but like he adores it really, we all know this man is a caretaker at heart and as someone who 'knew you before' st least through what Bruce has told him, he's happy to help give you a better life

Of course then complications arise whenever Reader gets her memory back (and potentially extremely pissed she was kept as a child and literally no attempts, none, zero, nada, zilch attempts were made to turn her back to normal) and she's like "ok well I'm mentally an adult again but I'm still in a kids body, let's try and turn me back and then I can be a real adult again" and the entire batfamily is just "OR, hear me out, OR. You could stay here though? And if you wanna be a crimefighter you should at least stay with us but like its jusr ao dangerous though what if you got hurt 🥺" IF they let you return to hero work at all but let's be real, if you did, I think Bruce would be so proud to put a little bat symbol or R or whatever on your uniform cause it's like, awwww bonding, everyone's gonna know you're his lil protege 🥰

And imagine Reader goes to confront Bruce about this whole thing and you just start bawling because "was I just such a pathetic loser before that you wanted to change everything about me" and like he did the whole thing with good intentions but, YEAH he did absolutely lie to you and kind of shape you a little for the few years you were "raised" by him and you're standing there with your new clothes and your new haircut and all the hobbies he's paid for and the education he's paid for and all the new things you've learned and can do because he had the resources to give them to you and you're wondering what was so unlikable about you before that he doesnt want you to be that person again, to be the person you've always known and lived your life as

Suffice to say he isn't going to turn you back at all and if you have to "return to your old self" by literally naturally aging back to your "original age" then so be it. You've got an entire mansion filled with your loving 'family' and you're happy and you're healthy and really, maybe you're just being anxious and scared and all it will take is time for you to adjust and see that all of them know what's best. Amd if you never do adjust and you're just kept around anyways, well, it doesn't make much of a difference to them. Hell, maybe they'll find a hero or villain or magic user who can, you know, maybe make you forget all about the life you had before, completely wipe your head until only the Wayne family, your family, is left

Really, Bruce would consider it just to hear you call him 'Dad' again

#dont look at me im on my cringe shit #yandere batman #yandere x reader #yandere stuff #sinprompts

[yestrday]

i was the anon who uh told you abt the oc and so here i am sharing him.

Yeah, this is Corin :3

I saw that Zhongli was supposed to have graduated but was held back for.... reasons...

So I decided that Corin is also back a grade... for a reason I don't know fits in your academy au lore but fuck it we ball am i right. (He just like missed a deadline to enroll or something... idc if that's not how schools work, corin is my bbg)

BTW, Ms. Aika is ANOTHER genshin oc, she's sorta like immortal in non academy au lore (just actual genshin world oc) who found Corin when he uh... escaped from a cult.. I MEAN WHAT WHO SAID THAT!!!!!! Yeah, they have like a mother/son relationship. Not legally, though, so he kind of is like her #1 servant.

Corin, in general, is a really calm and chill guy, so I thought it'd be really funny if I gave him a BURNING hatred for Childe where he's just... a bit more done with that guy. ( also he doesn't like Scaramouche. but Corin retaliates with "at least I'm not short" when he is LITERALLY just a bit taller... it's so fun to me) He'd be silently judging because he's not particularly one to like confrontation (unless it's Childe or Scaramouch,, obv), and he does the look into the camera like it's the Office @ shenanigans.

He likes being around Aether/Lumine or Diluc the most (Also has to do with the non academy genshin lore I gave him...where he works at Angel's Share and probably becomes a companion to the Traveler) and he probably gets along better with Monstadt characters (oh he loves Fischl, thinks she's very funny but also has no idea what she is saying

"That's so cool.." turn to Oz "what is she saying."

... that's his little sister, just trust me on this)

Other than the Monstadt characters, I think Corin is friends w Itto (bro got picked up one day just like 'guess this is my life now') and literally anyone else

only #2 dogboy because Gorou is always #1

sorry corin

also, hell yeah i put that man in crop tops... what are you, a cop...

I'm just adding things at this point, but teehee, Corin is a babysitter sometimes. I don't know where Klee fits into this AU, but he probably babysits her (actively enables her shenanigans... i mean, he never did anything at all... what are you talking about...) also gets him closer to Albedo possibly maybe blink blink...

i got silly :3

behrhigw HES SO SCRUNKLY I LOVE HIM??!?! corin is just trying to live it sucks he has a murderous harem (which has childe)

also the missing enrollment is spot on i know so many lazy bums that are my classmates cuz they were like oh lmao the deadline was THAT day?? whoops haha ill just take a gap year its honestly spot on

i love him 🥺🥺

#yester.fanart #yester.au — academy 📓 #junobells

[taiiunknown]

✨TONIGHT, ILL BE THE BEST YOU EVER HAD 💍

This a short story inspired by the song (Tonight ~ John legend) so I advise you to listen to the song while reading 😽

Warning: FLUFF AND I MEAN LOTS OF IT , grab a tissue 🥺, very short story sorry not sorry 😛

Summary: Y/n & SHURI has been dating for 3 years and shuri finally decide to propose Aka tie the knot 🪢💍🤭

Today shuri has been acting really weird today, I don’t know what’s up with her but she have been real distant and sneaky and I really don’t want to jump to conclusions bc we have been strong going on 4years and it has been the best 4 years of you life .

Shuri told me that she was gonna be busy all today so she might not be home at 4 like she usually do , so I decided to go to my best friend house to vent to her a bit and also catch up , but she thought it was a good idea to treat me today which was very odd but I guess she just wanted to be nice today so we ended up at the nail shop .

*NAIL SALON*

“I feel like you overreacting.” Cari said while looking at the lady who was painting her toe nails, “Ya, Maybe you’re right…I just want to know what’s wrong.” Y/n said while having her feet in the water while the nail tech finish her pinky finger (you got cute white French tips medium length with a little diamond on you ring finger). “Just enjoy the day we having together then tonight when you go home talk to shuri.” Cari said with a small smile “ya… I am, what we doing after anyways ?” Y/n asked “oh we fixing your hair so when we don’t you better get to picking hair styles , I Feel like you need a cute silk press since your hair already long asl .” Cari said “ok even though I love my curls” I said laughing .

*3hours later*

I felt like a brand new person walking back in the palace, After getting my hair and nails done , including a Brazilian wax , I felt so pure and fresh.

On the way here I was already planning in my head on how to confront shuri about her being to distant , as I got closer the living area I seen rose petals leading to the balcony by the kitchen, I hear (Tonight by John legend) playing in the back ground and was easily caught off guard by how sexy shuri look right now . She was wearing a all black long sleeve shit with gray buttons, all dark gray pants with black shoes and … WAIT A MINUTE DID SHE GET A LINE UP IN THE BACK ?!!?!?!!

Ughhhh god take me now …

Mean while i have on a cute black dress and cute black rhinestone flip flops since I didn’t expect to be doing much today,

“Shuri what’s all this for ?” I asked looking at the set up in awe (just imagine what you want) “for you Usana, you deserve this and everything that comes with it” shuri said lifting my chin so I can focus on her “including you? Bc last time I checked you was being real distant to me for the past couple of days like you don’t love me anymore , and I’m really tryna understand if I did something wrong or not so I can fix it or even m-” I said rambling non stop “ MY LOVE STOP !” Shuri said to stop me from rambling “You did nothing wrong y/n , I just been planning something special for you that I have been thinking about since the first moment we met, And don’t ever think about changing yourself okay ? Bc you are perfect and I love you with everything in my heart and I don’t want you to ever think I stopped loving you bc I will never stop loving you Mami , Do you hear me? And I’m so sorry for even making you feel that way Nkosazana yam (my princess) . Shuri said while we both tearing up a little

“Ever since I first laid eyes on you I’ve been having it all planned out y/n and even my mother knew we are soul mates before she passed..” Shuri says while slowly moving on to one knee … lord I’m finna fall out

“So will you please make me that happiest Queen alive and be my wife sithandwa sam ?”

Shuri asked with a few tears running down her face while I’m straight out finna blow a snot bubble ��

“YES ! Yes my shuri, I will” I say sobbing a little

“YES ?!!” Shuri asks shooting back up to her feet while picking me up “YES BABY!” I say giggling bc I’m so star struck. Shuri begans to scream in happiness and I do the same.

Shuri puts me back on the ground to place the ring on my finger (imagine what you want)

“And by the way Cari was in on the plan” Shuri says with a sneaky grin “Wowww I knew she was up to something” I say laughing “yk you look really good right now Ms.Uduka” Shuri says while grabbing me by my waist “MEEE?? You look fine as always while I literally have on the most simple fit ever” I say rolling my eyes and pouting, “it’s ok if you don’t see what I see Usana, But do you mind not walking tmr ?” Shuri says getting closer to my lips “umm..it depends how good you do” I say clearly joking bc she be fucking me up for real. “Say less enomtsalane (sexy)…

THE END !!

#wakanda forever #shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #shuri udaku #shuri x riri #shuri smut