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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year

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I Need You (18+)

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

You've been casually hooking up with Aaron for a while, but even if you want something more, things aren't always so simple.

WC: 2.7k words

Warnings - SMUT!! MINORS DNI (18+), HEAVY on the angst lol, cursing, p in v, oral (f receiving), casual-ish sex, unprotected (don't be silly wrap ur willy and whatnot pls), not sure what else so lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: Omg ive been so burnt out from work I'm so sorry i promise im still writing my queue of reqs but for the sake of my sanity I needed to write this lmao I had this idea suddenly and I just LOVE ANGST!!! So I had to! Considering writing a part 2 to give them a happy ending lol in the meantime, hope you like!

It was the perfect night to stay inside. It was raining so hard that it threatened to become a deluge, thunder rumbling in the distance and only getting closer. You had brought out a couple of blankets to the living room to snuggle under, a cheesy old horror movie waiting for you on the TV.

You dumped popcorn into a big bowl and poured yourself some more wine, humming along to a song that was stuck in your head.

Because you weren’t expecting anyone at all, you were in full-on slob mode. Your pajamas consisted of an oversized t-shirt with a picture of Garfield and Odie on the front, along with yellow underwear that had “Tuesday” stitched on them – even if it was actually Friday.

Your hair was braided into two pigtails, still damp from the shower. You always loved how it looked all wavy right after undoing them in the morning, like you’d just been at the beach.

Outside, there was a quick, bright flash of lightning, and you really hoped the lights wouldn’t go out. From the kitchen, you almost didn’t hear the knocking on your front door. You’d been counting the seconds between that flash and the inevitable growl of the skies – One, two, three, four, five…

But then you registered the desperate, staccato rhythm of fists pounding on wood. You rushed towards the door, peering through the peephole before throwing the door open.

Standing on the threshold, drenched from head to toe, was the handsome Aaron Hotchner. It was at that same moment that thunder decided to rumble, but you’d long since stopped counting. The two of you momentarily stared at each other, almost as if in disbelief.

Aaron had been your neighbor for some time now, living just at the end of the block. Still, despite the proximity, you didn’t see him very often, so your heart began racing at this turn of events.

His gaze roamed over you, taking you in, but you didn’t feel self-conscious. He always made you feel confident and sexy, no matter what you were wearing… or not wearing. He flexed his fingers anxiously, like he wanted to reach out but was holding himself back.

“May I come in?” he asked, breaking the spell you were both under.

You nodded quickly, stepping aside to let him in. He took his shoes off as you helped him remove his blazer, hanging it up by the door. You dashed toward your bathroom to retrieve a towel and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he murmured, toweling off his hair first. It was the most disheveled you’d ever seen it, and you’d ran your hands through it plenty of times in the past. It was a charming sight, really.

“Did you just get back?” You asked.

He nodded, draping the towel on his shoulders. You could see the bags under his eyes and the tense set of his shoulders, which you immediately wanted to help ease.

Some time ago, he’d confided with you that he was a profiler for the FBI. He often traveled to aid in all sorts of cases, sometimes having to be away for extended periods of time, but he’d never disclosed any details about any of them.

It was the reason you rarely saw him, but you didn’t really have the right to complain, since you two weren’t actually together. Instead, you took what you could get.

“Come sit, you must be exhausted,” you said, starting to lead him to the living room.

“I am,” he sighed heavily, reaching out to grab your hand to stop you. “But I just… needed to see you.”

Drawing you closer, he snaked his arms around your waist, and you rested your hands against his chest. You wiped a strand of dark hair away from his forehead, looking into his bewitching dark brown eyes. A soft smile tugged at your lips.

You remembered well the day you met him, out on the run around the neighborhood. The two of you had looked at each other and just kind of… stopped, unable to help it. It was as if the connection had been immediate.

The two of you spent the rest of that day walking around and talking, quickly finding out you lived on the same street. As time passed, one thing led to another, and soon you found yourself under him, your moans a melody in his ears.

But even if you had a burning desire for more, things were kept purely physical between the two of you. He’d explained his job was very demanding, and he wasn’t able to keep a serious relationship at the moment.

Once, he’d even told you that being with him would be risky for a myriad of reasons. And yet, he admitted he didn’t think he could keep himself totally away from you.

You said you didn’t mind, wanting to keep seeing him too, betraying your heart in the process. You found that each time you saw him, you fell just a little bit more for him. It was hard not to.

Not that you would tell him this, of course. It felt a little… selfish to feel that way. So just being around him was enough for the time being.

“Welcome home, I’m really glad you’re here,” you whispered, fingers trailing over his shoulders. “Why don’t we get you out of these wet clothes and warm you up? I can take care of you.”

His gaze became heated, and without another word, he bent down to kiss you. His hands cradled your face as you opened your mouth, granting his tongue access.

You began undoing the buttons of his shirt, fumbling a little as your tongue tangled with his. You did not stop kissing him even as you slid it off of him, along with his undershirt. You pressed yourself against him, his cool skin a nice contrast against all the warmth you emanated. His hands traveled south, towards the hem of your shirt.

You only separated for a moment as he pulled it over your head, but then he was on you again, kissing not just your lips, but your jaw and neck as well. You sighed contentedly, eyes fluttering closed as you surrendered to pleasure.

“I needed you so bad,” he rasped against your throat. “I missed your smell, your softness.”

You melted at his words. It had not been easy to get Aaron to speak so freely. It definitely took a lot of patience and understanding, as well as a lot of honesty of your own. That feeling of mutual trust was not one you took lightly.

“I’m here,” you assured him, tangling your fingers in his hair as his lips trailed further down, leaving open mouthed kisses in their wake.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Your back arched as his hand tweaked your other nipple, at the same time that his teeth lightly grazed the sensitive skin. He smirked at your sharp intake of breath.

Then suddenly, you yelped as he pulled back only to pick you up, carrying you to your bedroom. He gently laid you down on the bed, undoing his belt and kicking his pants off before crawling over you. His mouth was back on you, licking and sucking and kissing all the places he knew would make you squirm.

“Oh, Aaron…” you sighed. “Did I mention I missed you too?”

“I know, baby, I know,” he said, planting a salacious kiss on your navel. “I’m gonna make you feel so good to make up for it.”

You couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation.

He chuckled at your choice of underwear, eyes gleaming with fondness as he looked up at you. You gave him a sheepish smile as he pulled them down, kissing your thighs as he pushed them apart. Your hips jerked as he dove forward, licking a long, languid stripe through your folds. He groaned against your skin at the taste of you, inserting his tongue into your center.

You fisted the sheets as you rocked your hips, seeking more friction. He brought a hand up to keep you steady, thumb brushing over your sensitive clit. The way you whimpered and moaned for him was glorious. He knew the sound would be stuck in his head for days to come. His mouth replaced his thumb on your clit, and he insterted one finger into you as he sucked your bundle of nerves between his lips.

“Holy fuck,” you hissed, fingers tangling in his hair. “Don’t stop, please…”

Your wish was his command, so he only doubled his efforts, inserting a second finger into you. Your muscles tensed, and you were unable to utter any more coherent words. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you kept his head in place, that tight coil that had formed in your stomach finally snapping. He felt you clench hard around his fingers as you came, pride swelling in his chest.

When he rose to his knees, the lower half of his face glistened with your arousal, and he was smiling with utter satisfaction. If there was one thing he truly enjoyed – and was really good at – it was giving you as many orgasms as he could. He loved seeing the heavy rise and fall of your chest, along with the blush that spread over your cheeks and nose. The beatific smile that inevitably followed, always directed at him. He would never tire of it.

This time, you pulled him towards you, kissing him fiercely, humming at the taste of yourself on his tongue. He groaned, helping you pull his briefs down before settling his hips between your legs.

“I need you,” you whispered against his lips, bucking your hips so his hardened length slid against your soaked pussy.

He wanted to tease you a little bit more, to make you beg, but the need to be inside you was much greater. Reaching a hand down, he lined himself up with your entrance and ever-so-slowly sank into you. He leaned his forehead against yours, both of you exhaling sharply when he was fully seated inside of you.

Your thighs squeezed his hips as he began to thrust slowly, letting you feel every inch of him. You’d missed the feeling of him stretching you, his body flush against yours, unsure of where you ended and he began.

Soon he picked up the pace, groaning out your name as the obscene sounds of flesh slapping together filled the room.

“You take me so well…” he praised between pants, feeling your walls flutter around him at his words.

“H-harder, Aaron, please,” you begged. “Fuck… your cock just feels so good.”

He couldn’t deny you anything, truly. Pulling back a little, he brought your legs up so your ankles rested on his shoulders. He felt impossibly deep at this angle, the sensation close to being overwhelming, but not in a bad way. He pounded into you, and you gripped his shoulders tightly, as if attempting to anchor yourself.

Your mouth was slack in pleasure, brows furrowed and eyes fluttering closed. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, completely at his mercy. His movements soon became more erratic, hips jutting at an irregular rhythm. When he realized he was close, he wanted you to come along with him, so his hand snaked down between you. He rubbed your clit in quick, tight circles, your muscles tensing once again.

“C-can I…” he tried to formulate, unable to finish his sentence.

You understood him all the same, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, inside me, please!”

Mere seconds after you said that, the two of you stumbled into oblivion, unable to hold back any longer. You cried out his name as he groaned, movements halting as he spent inside of you, his cock twitching. He shuddered as he felt you clench around him, milking out his orgasm.

“There’s a good girl. You like coming for me, don’t you?” He grunted, smirking at your flushed features.

You smiled demurely at his words, nodding. “Oh, I love it.”

As he started to come down from his high, he continued to gaze down at you adoringly, kissing your calf as he gently brought your legs back down. In his eyes, you were the most glorious sight of all, completely bare and undone. All thanks to him.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he already felt like you were his. Despite keeping you at an arms length, he held his feelings for you close to his chest. He cared too much about you to put you in any sort of danger, which was why he did not let himself have what he truly wanted.

He lied on the bed facing you, pulling you closer to him and kissing the top of your head. You nuzzled his neck, breathing him in and rejoicing in the feeling of having him here, all to yourself. At least for the time being.

“I think this is my favorite part,” you said against his skin, almost purring at the feeling of his fingers stroking your hair.

He huffed in response, staring vacantly at the wall, deep in thought. It had to be his favorite part, too. He could feel as your heart rate slowed to a steady rhythm, matching his. Your lips planting lazy little kisses all over his throat.

To have you like this felt incredibly selfish, and he hated himself for putting you in this position. He couldn’t help his thoughts from beginning to spiral, depite the influx of euphoria running throughout his body.

“Have you ever…” he began, clearing his throat as he searched for his courage. “Thought of seeing somebody else?”

You pulled back to frown at him, but he didn’t meet your gaze. “What?”

“I mean, is just this good enough for you? Don’t you ever want more?”

“W-where is this coming from?” You asked, pulling further back. “Did you meet someone? Is this your way of telling me?”

He quickly shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I guess I just have a hard time believing you’re content with seeing me only every so often, no commitment, no guarantee of anything… I can’t think of the reason why.”

You averted your eyes. “Does there have to be a reason?”

He shrugged, unsure of what to say. Frankly, there were instances in which you wondered the same thing, but deep down, you already knew the answer. You were scared of facing it, yes, but you were even more scared of him finding out.

“Well, to be clear, if I didn’t want you around – if I didn’t want this – you wouldn’t be here right now,” you said, idly tracing patters in the sheet beneath you with your finger. “So maybe you’re just gonna have to take my word for it.”

Sometimes you truly couldn’t understand why he thought the world would be out to get you for being with him. You were no one, you reasoned. You were merely a sinful secret, a reprieve from the harsh realities of the world. Realities that he never wanted you to witness, especially not after everything he knew you’d already been through.

You were yet to teach him that you truly could take care of yourself, too. In due time, perhaps.

With a deep sigh, he wordlessly embraced you once more, keeping you close for a long moment. He tried to memorize the velvety soft feel of your skin, the light freesia scent of your shampoo, and how you would always eagerly melt into his kiss. He’d need something to hold on to until the next time he saw you.

“Are you going to stay tonight?” You asked softly, wanting to pretend a little longer.

He nodded, looking down to meet your gaze as you pulled back once more. “But I have a really early start tomorrow. I’ll probably be gone before you wake up.”

You stroked his cheek tenderly, silently holding his gaze for a moment.

“How many times are we supposed to say goodbye to each other, you think?”

“As many as it takes.”

Until it’s real. Until either of us actually means it.

#criminal minds #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #angst (potential happy ending)#aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner smut #hotch #minors dni

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praisethesuuun · 1 year

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Hi there, may I ask you for Indra NSFW alphabet pls? He looks so coollll >///<

I just had to write the alphabet of my only Lord, I have to tell the truth, I was very happy to write it, so thank you for the request❤️❤️❤️

INDRA: NSFW ALPHABET

A: aftercare <what they're like after sex>

The god of thunder may seem detached, neutral, as if he doesn't place too much importance on caring for each other after intercourse. It's the little things Indra does that change your mind, like stroking your back and sides when you fall asleep next to or on top of him, or when he gently kisses your forehead.

B: body part <their favourite body part on them and you>

His favorite part of you are your thighs and hips: Indra is the type to grip any part of your body that comes his way, so get ready to feel his big hands squeezing your thighs - even leaving the reddish mark - while he's eating you out. While, his favourite part of his body are the tattoos, this is because Indra loves the way you enchant yourself when you look at them. The stars in your eyes and your light touch as you trace them are enough to turn him on.

C: cum <anything to do with it, really>

Indra is the type to cum inside, to then watch his seed gush from your pussy and slowly run down your legs. He charms himself into looking at his artwork as if under the influence of hypnosis, keeping you anchored under him with a lustful grin.

D: dirty secret <a dirty secret of theirs>

This glorious god of lightning has a thing for seeing you completely submissive to him, dedicating your body to him as if it were one of the many offerings by the faithful. In particular, a couple of times you will find yourself completely naked, lying on Indra's body while he's smoking a cigarette, clicking on an ashtray placed on your back. "Don't move, not even a grain of ash must fall"

E: experience <how experienced are they>

Indra had a few adventures here and there, but they weren't very many or lasting, just one night stands; therefore, you will be his first serious relationship and he will be careful to keep you all to himself.

F: favourite position <self-explanatory>

Constant physical contact is something that should never be missing when you two are fucking - and the pleasure should be shared by both of you. The position of 69 seems to fulfill all the requirements necessary for Indra to reach the peak of pleasure.

G: goofy <would they use humor in the moment?>

His face remains grave and impassive, save for a few grins here and there; he is not at all inclined to make jokes. However, if you prefer to do them to give a twist to the mood, it's not a problem for him, smiling and humoring you from time to time.

H: hair <how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the courtains?>

The carpet is even lighter than the curtains - something you didn't even think was possible. But then again, Indra still keeps himself groomed and clean just for you, paying more attention to it than in the past.

I: intimacy <are they romantic in the moment or they do not care?>

Sometimes Indra seems like he just doesn't care, while other times he acts like the most romantic god in Valhalla, remembering your every little thing. He'll move slow and sensual, kissing you all over and trying to make you cum as many times as possible.

J: jack off <...self-explanatory part 2>

Of course he does, he doesn't mind touching himself when he desperately needs it. Despite this, the God doesn't do it often given his lack of libido, but he can't help it when you don't see each other all day. So, he arms himself with a piece of your underwear and press it against his nose, imagining every possible scenario.

K: kinks <their kinks>

Probably, it's a rigger. This means that you will find yourself tied up with various ropes, with Indra above you with a very unreassuring grin. Shibari is a common practice within your sexual relationship: the god of thunder goes blood to his head every time he sees you dangling from the ceiling, all to himself and submissive for your only Lord.

Oh, he's also a brat tamer. Be careful teasing his jealousy or questioning his abilities, you won't be walking for a while.

L: location <where they usually do the do>

Well, usually you don't have too much trouble fucking where it happens. If he gets hard and wants to possess you, then he will start a wild run with you in his arms, looking for the first free spot available.

M: motivation <what turns them on>

When you express your devotion and admiration towards him. Indra always feels special when you do that, blushing slightly; basically, you'll find him crawling at your feet at the exact moment you start whispering in his ear all the things you want him to do to you. "Why not make your wishes come true then, darling?"

N: no <things they refuse to do>

Indra refuses to force you to do anything, no it's no. Don't want to hang upside down? That's fine, he will untie you by kissing you on the cheeks and calming you down. You don't want him to touch you in certain spots because you don't feel comfortable? He'll roll with it. The important thing is that you are not uncomfortable.

O: oral <do they like giving or receiving?>

I think we all know the answer, GIVING. Indra loves it when he squeezes your thighs while you sit on his face, starting to lick, kiss and suck. You can cum as many times as you like, his mouth will stop only when you pass out from pleasure. "Come on, earlier you said you were going to destroy me" you say, observing your companion lying on the bed, with the usual cigarette dangling from his mouth. "It would've been better if I just sat on your face"

"Then do it, sugar! Let me see how much you want me"

P: pace <are they slow and sensual or fast and rough>

His movements are slow and studied, aimed at making you scream his name all night long. Indra will take his time, only leaving you in control when you are on top of him. And if you're impatient or about to climax, he'll pick up the pace - albeit reluctantly.

Q: quickie <would they fuck you for five minutes or wait until you wait home?>

Like I said, any time is a good time to get laid; he will look you straight in the eye, urging you to follow him in a quiet, peaceful room, touching your breasts and hips all the while. "Please, please let's go" he'll tell you, kissing you intensely and making your knees tremble.

R: risk <...DUH>

Honestly, Indra's not the type to take them. First of all, because he doesn't feel like it; and second, because he doesn't understand why since he would risk hurting you. I don't even think you can convince him-

S: stamina <how long can they last?>

If there's one thing Indra doesn't lack, it's stamina. Indra has loads of that and could go on all night if he wanted to, using your screams and sighs as a recharge. Good luck with this big boy, you'll need it.

T: toys <do they own any? do they use them?>

His collection of ropes and restraints is precious to him, Indra always brags about it and occasionally enjoys putting you in trouble by making you choose how you will be tied. In addition, your Lord also has small vibrators that he enjoys using on you, carefully observing the way you squirm, desperate for any kind of contact. "No touching, sweetheart. I already told you that"

U: unfair <how much they like to tease>

Nah, he doesn't like doing it and he doesn't even really want to. You're the one who wants to tease him, at least you can give him a reason to punish you like the bad girl you are, just be careful not to overdo it, ok?

V: volume <are they asking for a noise complaint, or are they quiet?>

You won't hear a single sound coming out of his mouth, nothing. Indra may growl sometimes, but no more.

W: wild card <a random headcanon☆>

Now it's time for some fun, so listen up folks. This god, THIS GOD, drops lightning around him whenever he gets too excited. You'd once decided to ride him - since he didn't want to take the initiative that day, strangely - but apparently you were too good at it and, in no time at all, poof! The corner of the bed caught fire. "Shit, I'm sorry" "This is the third time this week-"

X: x-ray <what to they look like under there?>

I mean, have you seen how big he is? 'Cause I did and now I'm gonna explaint it to you. Indra is packing! His dick is slightly larger at the endand curved downward, while the tip is #edd3b9.

Y: yearning <are they in the mood to fuck or are they tame?>

Sex is not among his priorities, it does not occupy too large a space in his mind. The task of keeping the libido high will be entrusted to you, it's impossible to bore him with all those beautiful sounds you make, so don't worry too much about it.

Z: zzz <how quickly they fall asleep afterwards>

Indra doesn't fall asleep usually, but he likes feel you close, your body must warm him like never before. He likes to watch you while you sleep, protecting you and acting as a watchdog, being very careful not to let anyone get close.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror x you #snv x reader #snv x you #request #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie headcanons #record of ragnarok imagines #indra record of ragnarok #ror indra

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aralezinspace · 1 year

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hello. i saw that ur taking request. would like to request a morpheus x jealous reader fic. from where the reader saw morpheus with calliope after missing there dinner date. angst to fluff pls. i badly needed some comfort fic with a little bit of misunderstanding and some fluff too. thank u in advance.

I Waited for You

A/N: I may have slightly Gone Off with this prompt, hope you enjoy!

I had been sitting at the table for an hour, sipping my wine and nibbling at the fruit platter in the center of the table. Morpheus was supposed to meet me for dinner- he had been terribly busy the last few weeks and we had hardly seen each other. In one of those free moments, we agreed to have a fancy dinner date and spend the evening together. I was all dressed up, a special dinner had been prepared, Lucienne had even agreed to handle anything pressing after dusk.

So where was he?

I heaved a sigh, my mind jumping to horrible conclusions: he forgot because he didn’t care, something had gone terribly wrong and he was in danger, he didn’t actually want to spend time with me-

I gave my head a shake and downed the last of my wine. Guess it was time to cut my losses and hope he would come to bed tonight.

Head hung low, I left the small dining room and trudged up the stairs and through the halls to our bedroom. Makeup, jewelry, and the outfit I picked specially for tonight were removed and left scattered about- jewelry in a pile on the vanity, clothes crumpled in an armchair. I pulled on my pajamas and sat on the edge of our bed, trying not to let my hurt overwhelm me. I needed a distraction.

I tugged on a robe and slippers and made my way to the library. Lucienne wasn’t at her desk, presumably overseeing Dream’s evening duties. My slipper-clad steps echoed softly as I made my way up and down the aisles, looking for a story I could lose myself in until my eyes refused to stay open.

Murmuring voices caught my ears from a few rows away. One was definitely Morpheus- there was no mistaking that gentle rumble, like distant thunder. The other belonged to a woman, but not Lucienne. So, who then?

I took off my slippers and stuck them on a shelf, my bare feet making no sound on the cold tiled floor. Whoever it was, they were important enough to him that he had forgotten or blown off our dinner date: I didn’t want them to know I was there.

I crept closer, peeking out from behind the shelf. My stomach lurched as I took in who he was talking to: Calliope.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying; part of me didn’t want to. Anger, sadness, jealousy, and hurt were all competing to be the first to claw their way out of my chest. I knew he still held some fondness and love for Calliope, and what they had was in the past, and we were both at peace with that. But if he skipped dinner to be with her, what did that make me, besides an idiot for falling for the Dream Lord who had clearly not moved on from his former wife?

Tears burned the back of my eyes. Morpheus handed her a small book, which the Muse held tightly to her chest. He tenderly kissed the back of her free hand before Matthew flew down from the rafters and showed her out.

I fled back to our room and burrowed under the covers, finally letting my tears out until I fell asleep.

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

Once Calliope left, Morpheus strode briskly to the small dining room, prepared to eloquently beg forgiveness for being so late. Calliope’s visit had been unexpected, and lasted longer than he thought. But when he entered the room, it was empty, the table bare. Brow furrowed, he immediately sought his trusted librarian.

“Lucienne, the dining room is empty. Where is Y/N? We were to have dinner together.” Lucienne sighed through her nose.

“My lord, you had agreed to meet them almost two hours ago. I would assume they went to bed.”

Dream froze. Had he really lost track of time and made them wait that long, without sending word that he hadn’t forgotten and would be there? He had been looking forward to this evening; just him and his beloved, no responsibilities or issues requiring his attention. He had told them so this morning before turning focus to the day’s work.

His entire form slumped in shame. He could only imagine how much they were hurting because of his negligence. “Thank you, Lucienne. Please continue to oversee the Dreaming, I must rectify my mistake.”

Their shared chambers were dark and chilled when he opened the door. A mound of blankets gently rose and fell, presumably his slumbering beloved. Guilt twisted his insides. Moving quietly, he shed his outerwear and slipped into bed. Y/N didn’t stir, not even when Morpheus pulled them into his arms and murmured apologies into their hair.

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

The next morning, I was surprised to feel lean arms holding me snugly against a firm torso. Not only that, the space beside me was warm, rather than empty and cold. “Morpheus?” I mumbled, voice thick with sleep. I was conflicted- on the one hand, his presence was soothing. It had been so long since I had woken up in my husband’s arms. On the other, my chest still ached with the hurt of last night.

“I’m here, darling,” he rasped softly in my ear, gently holding me closer. An uncomfortable silence fell over the two of us, the previous night weighing heavy in the air.

“How was your night?” I bit out softly. I could feel Morpheus tense behind me. He knew exactly what I was talking about. He started to speak, but I shook my head and cut him off, surprised at my own daring. “You blew off our date to be with Calliope, why?” I pulled away and turned over to face him, frowning. As upset as I was, I was still spellbound by how gorgeous he was in the morning light.

“Do you just not care anymore?” the words were choked, but I forced myself to go on, letting out all the hurt that had festered since last night. “I would have understood if you just told me something came up, but instead you went behind my back to meet with your former wife! Do you have any idea how that hurt me?”

Morpheus’ face crunched with anger, but I wasn’t done yet. Agitated, I threw off the covers and started pacing around the room. “We haven’t spent any real time together in weeks, but I guess Calliope is more important.” Deflated of my ire, I stopped pacing and slumped. “If you aren’t in love with me anymore, if you don’t want this anymore, just fucking tell me, instead of making me look like a fool.”

Morpheus shot out of bed and stomped over to me, grabbing my upper arms in a bruising hold. “Stop,” he commanded in a growl (that incidentally sent shockwaves between my legs). I froze, my eyes on the floor and my stomach in knots. His grip loosened, and a hand tenderly caressed my cheek. “My love,” he breathed, “Will you not even look at me?”

Steeling myself, I lifted my gaze to his face. His eyes were watery, the color of the ocean at night, swimming with stars. His face was hard, commanding my attention. The breath caught in my lungs, my heart pounded in my chest.

“I was careless and negligent yesterday, and the pain it caused you is my responsibility.” He paused, I nodded for him to go on. “Will you allow me to explain and atone for my mistake?” Another nod.”

He took a moment to gather his words. “Calliope’s visit was not expected. She was not well when she arrived; I had not seen her that distraught in a very long time. She asked a favor, a copy of our son’s dream record, and I obliged. I couldn’t leave her to suffer alone.” He bit his lip and his eyes flickered down as the epiphany hit him: he had unknowingly inflicted the same kind of pain he was trying to spare Calliope, on me. “I should not have made you wait with no word or explanation, and for that you have my most sincere apologies. I would like to rectify this.”

He gently held my face in his hands. “You hold my heart, darling. Do not ever doubt my love for you, for it is infinite and ever growing. How can I mend the hurt I’ve caused?”

I let out a long breath through my nose. I could probably have made him grovel some more, but he clearly felt bad and wanted to make it right. And I understood: the Dream Lord never stops caring for someone, no matter how much things sour. As angry as he had been with Nada, I knew he still cared for her, in his own way. He still cared for Calliope. And, in a thousand years, wherever we were, he would still care for me.

My arms gently wrapped around his waist, and I gave him a somewhat devious smirk. “Spend the day with me. No duties, no work. Just you and me, together.”

The tiniest smile touched his lips. “My love, there is nothing I would rather do.”

#The Sandman #The Sandman fanfic #morpheus x reader #my stuff #Morpheus fanfic

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stvnszlr · 4 months

Note

HEYYYYYY i was wondering if you could write some fluff for Steven pls :33🫶 luv your blog btw

um …. so i got absolutely completely carried away with this one … and may or may not have written an entire 1.7k words ……

apologies in advance if this isn’t what you were intending with this ask 😭 i’m primarily a gen fic writer , so i turned this into a completely solo steven adventure !

even still , i hope you enjoy steven befriending a lost dog :) typical poppy !

The rumble of rubber wheels on uneven concrete thundered down the sidewalk…

…interrupted by loud, rhythmic clacking over each gap in the walkway. Steven took a foot off his board to give himself a good push, speeding faster past the chattering school kids with shopping bags under their arms and businessmen in suits wearily making their way home.

The breeze whipped through his long hair, lifting the wavy, blond strands and twirling them around behind his head. A flat-brimmed hat smashed over the messy curls kept them slightly at bay, but not by much. The California sun beat down heavily on his back, his cheeks and shoulders already going rosy from its heat.

Down the sidewalk he rolled, gaining speed with each thrust against the ground. He grinned as the buildings and people he passed turned to a blur, only a fleeting second in his vision before they were gone, already meters behind him.

He began to crouch lower, really leaning into the speed. His smile grew wider, his gaze narrowing as his focus intensified— but suddenly…

“AHHH!” Steven hollered, eyes flying open wide as he frantically swerved to avoid the sudden obstacle that had darted out in front of him. His board wobbled underneath him, and the drastic change in direction threw him from the sidewalk. He landed heavily on the curb, crying out in pain as his eyes squeezed shut tightly with a wince.

“Fuck…” he whined, arm reaching out to tenderly touch his side, where he’d hit the edge of the concrete. His other hand scratched at the back of his head, trying to center himself before easing his aching eyes open. “What the hell?” he grumbled, turning to look back at where his board had landed. What he didn’t expect to see instead, though, was a scruffy, underfed street dog staring right back at him with a wide, terrified gaze.

Steven’s own pain melted away in an instant as he took in the poor sight of the mutt in front of him. The dog was trembling, obviously quite shocked by the loud disturbance that had just taken place in front of it. Steven’s blue eyes widened with sympathy, and he began to sit up slowly as his mouth drooped into a pout.

“Hey, puppy,” he murmured softly, turning his body to face the shuddering animal. “Good puppy… it’s okay,” he reassured softly. The dog didn’t move, but continued to stare at Steven, doubt and distress evident in its stance.

By now his skateboard was forgotten. Steven was completely concerned about the homeless pup he’d stumbled upon. He’d been in that position once, too— and a helpless dog deserved to suffer even less than he did.

He slowly eased himself into a crouching position, wincing a bit at the ache in his side but ignoring it for the time being. He took a small, hesitant step toward the terrified creature, but it quickly backed up as he tried to approach. Steven frowned, but stayed determined. Holding a hand out, he inched forward once again, trying his best to appear trustworthy.

“C’mon, man,” he pleaded desperately. He felt responsible for this dog, now! Especially after spooking it with his crash. Unfortunately, the dog wouldn’t be won over so easily. It seemed that its time on the streets had made it awfully skittish around people, and no matter how friendly Steven seemed, he’d need something more.

His face fell, the eagerness in his gaze crumbling. What else could he do if the pup wouldn’t even come near him?

Food! It’ll like food, won’t it? he pondered, the idea suddenly springing to mind. He stood from the ground, quickly jamming a hand in his pockets to dig around for spare change. Amidst the lint balls, wrappers, and occasional spare gumdrop… a quarter! One shiny, silver quarter. Steven held it up with glee, smiling at the sudden discovery.

He glanced back down at the dog, his brow furrowing. Pointing a finger, he commanded: “Stay.” The mutt tilted its head, appearing unsure and skeptical. “Stay here!” He begged, hoping somehow the dog would understand his intentions.

With one last forlorn glance at the pup, he scooped up his skateboard and turned to scan the street for the nearest convenience store. Only a few buildings down, a bright neon light flashed advertising cold beer, ice cream, and the like. His eyes lit up, and Steven took off down the sidewalk towards the shop, glancing back occasionally to make sure the dog hadn’t moved.

He ducked through the door, immediately relishing in the noisy rattle of the A-C that enveloped his sweat-soaked body with a rush of cool air. He swallowed, mouth suddenly feeling very dry out of the hot sun. No… he had to focus. What would a hungry stray like to eat?

He walked through the short aisles, contemplating cheap bags of candy and chips, but none of it sounded easy on a starving stomach. Probably wouldn’t smell too enticing, either. Scratching at the back of his neck, he continued to wander until he reached the dingy, dim corner at the very back.

Then, something caught his eye. A dented can of tuna— the last on the shelf— for only twenty cents. Perfect! His face lit up, and his cheeks spread into a proud smile as he snatched it from the rack.

Rushing back up to the counter, Steven quickly set his item down in front of the disinterested cashier. The man turned to him, an eyebrow raised as he took in the disheveled appearance of the young kid in front of him, and his peculiar purchase.

Steven gave him a hesitant smile, not quite reaching his eyes. He glanced at the wall of cigarettes behind him, scanning the logos for a moment before turning back to the cashier.

“Um… how much for a pack of reds?” He asked shakily, placing his hands on the counter.

“Buck-ten,” the man grunted out, swiping the can of tuna off the counter and ringing it up for his total.

Steven cringed at the price. Spare change wouldn’t cover that— and the tuna was more important, anyway. “Uh— just this, then,” he mumbled sheepishly, looking down at his hands. He held out the quarter, and the man exchanged it for the can. “Thanks,” Steven muttered, his cheeks flushed as he turned tail and quickly raced back out the door.

He hurried down the street again, making long strides back toward where he’d left the dog. For a moment, he thought it had wandered away— but then he spotted it, hiding in the shadow of an overflowing trash can.

Steven crouched down again, a few feet away as to not scare it off. “Hey, bud,” he greeted cheerfully, setting the can of tuna down on the ground in front of him, and his skateboard to the side. “I got somethin’ for you, see?”

He glanced up at the pup, who continued to stare at him with wide, uncertain eyes. He slowly popped the tab on the can, peeling off the lid to reveal the fish inside. “Mmm… yummy, huh?” He said, attempting to sound enticing.

The dog perked up as the smell of the tuna wafted over, and it took a few hesitant steps forward. “Yeah, there you go!” Steven cheered, grinning as he watched the pup slowly crawl towards him.

As it reached the can, the mutt looked up at Steven before taking a careful bite. Quickly, the dog began scarfing down the food, and Steven sat back with a content grin. It was obvious the dog was really hungry, and he was happy to have satiated it for now. It didn’t take long for the pup to polish off the tuna, then lifting its head while licking its lips, staring at Steven full-on.

Cautiously, the drummer decided to hold out his hand again, inviting the dog to greet him. This time, rather than backing away, the dog came forward for a wary sniff. Steven watched with bated breath, trying to stay as still as he could to reassure the nervous pup.

Tentatively, it gave him a gentle lick across the palm. Then another, and another. Soon, it was nuzzling right into his hand, and Steven’s smile grew even wider. “You’re so sweet, aren’t you?” He cooed, feeling confident enough to scratch under its chin. The dog began to wag its tail, a slow back-and-forth at first before it was nearly whipping with enthusiasm.

Steven laughed, a bright, bursting chuckle of joy as the pup rubbed itself up against his leg. “Shit, you gotta have a name!” He exclaimed with glee, now fully stroking back the fur on the dog’s head. “How about…” he hummed to himself thoughtfully, watching as the pup nearly vibrated with excitement as Steven became more familiar.

“Buzz!” He cried out, his laughter doubling over. “You’re fuckin’ buzzing!”

He reached out his other hand, pulling the dog into his lap. Buzz happily complied, standing up on hind legs and balancing with paws on Steven’s chest to give him broad licks across his smiling cheeks. The blond grinned even wider, happily scratching Buzz all over while dodging the wet kisses.

“Geez!” Steven exclaimed between giggles, nearly overwhelmed by the sudden energy and acceptance from the previously shy dog. “Not shy now, are you?” Buzz responded with a sharp yip, and Steven’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Buzz seemed absolutely open to him now, and Steven felt himself becoming attached too.

“Alright. C’mon, buddy,” he laughed, pushing the pup down as he got to his feet. He reached down, scooping up Buzz under one arm and his skateboard in the other. Buzz wagged happily, curling into Steven’s warm, safe grasp. Steven looked down with an adoring gaze, a fuzzy, comforting feeling growing in his chest. He squeezed Buzz a bit tighter, wanting to hold the pup as close as he could. “Let’s go home.”

#steven adler #saz requests !#gnr #guns n roses #steven gnr #poppy #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses imagine

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ticklepinions · 9 months

Text

Internet Discourse Tips and Tricks

It can be so exhausting seeing discourse. Here are some hopefully helpful tips to take care of yourself

It's okay to take a break and step away! It can be a lot emotionally and quite triggering. I know it is so easy to doom scroll and spiral but pls try your best to distance yourself if you need!

If you're not reblogging every post that shows you support one side over the other thats okay. Its your blog you get to decide what you want to share or not. There are people who'd rather not share anything at all and thats also okay. It doesn't make you a bad person and it doesn't mean you don't care

Use your outlets! Watch a good movie, go take a walk, talk to friends, journal, do whatever you need to get your mind away from the thunderous cloud of discourse

If you're like me, I feel like I may have rejection sensitivity (And I definitely am a recovering people pleaser) and being told I did something that hurt another person is literally the worst thing imaginable!!!! Take a step back! One bad action does not mean you are the worst person on the planet. Mistakes happen sometimes (ik I'm sorry). The important thing in the immediate moment is ensuring the person you harmed unintentionally is doing okay. Everyone responds differently so be respectful if they request some space.

While their feelings and emotions are important, so are yours. What do you need rn? Some water, a nice stretch, maybe a nap? Ultimately you also might want to reflect a bit and understand how you caused the harm so you can minimize it in the future

Block button is your everything. You don't need to surround yourself with people who don't share your views. You get to determine who you let into your circle.

Don't send hate. Regardless of your views or who's right and who's wrong, there is another human being behind the screen. I know you're angry and rightfully so, but just promise to be mindful. And if you do send hate at least don't be anonymous (/hj)

Feel free to share some more tips if you have any

#twordpinion #tickle community

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genshin-impact-writings · 2 years

Note

Hi! May I request a drabble for Childe/reader where reader has to/wants to get up but he doesn't want to let them go? Fluffy pls. ❤️

Hey there! First of all, I'm so sorry that it took me so incredibly long to get to your request. Also, I apologize if this is all over the place but I honestly didn't have the motivation to re-write it a third time. In any case, I really hope you're still interested in this and like what I came up with. Have a great day/night and stay safe! <3

Don’t go yet – Childe/Tartaglia x gn!reader (fluff)

You woke with a start when a loud beeping noise pierced through the peaceful bubble of your dreams. A bit disoriented and only half awake yet, you reached over to your bedside table, feeling around for the source of the infernal noise – that you soon identified as your alarm clock. With a groan, you turned it off and rubbed your face as you tried coming to your senses. Whoever had deemed it a good idea to start work so early that you had to leave your warm, comfortable bed while it was still dark outside had undoubtedly been the biggest idiot on this planet.

But it couldn’t be helped, you needed to get up if you wanted to be on time for work.

The rustling of bedsheets next to you, followed by a quiet “(Y/N)?” snapped you out of your thoughts. You rolled over, your eyes meeting the bleary gaze of the sleepy Harbinger right next to you.

“Go back to sleep,” you whispered and reached out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. His hair was always a mess in the morning, sticking out in all directions, but somehow, it just made him look even more adorable. You smiled at him, although you were pretty sure he couldn’t see it properly in the darkness of your bedroom. Still, he managed to catch your hand, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles.

“It’s too early,” he then said with a yawn. “Why are you awake?”

“Because there are some people in this world who need to get up early for work.”

You were convinced he was pouting right now. At least, his voice sounded like he was when he replied, “Since when do you have to get up before the sun actually rises?”

“Trust me, if it were up to me, I’d still be sound asleep right now.”

For a few moments, Childe didn’t reply. A part of you hoped that he had actually fallen asleep again because you knew him well enough to realize that he surely would try to keep you from getting up – he always did that when you had to leave the house before him, so you were always careful not to wake him up on these days. With that thought in mind, you remained perfectly still for a while, listening to his quiet breathing before you slowly moved to the edge of the bed. The next second, Childe had already wrapped his arms around you, caging you in a tight hug to stop you from leaving his side anytime soon.

“Don’t go just yet,” he mumbled. “It’s still dark outside.”

“I know.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck. “And it’s raining.”

“I know.”

“And you really want to go out there?” he asked. And while you usually took pride in the fact that you weren’t easily persuaded, you could already feel your determination to get up melt away as Childe snuggled up to you, his lips brushing against your neck, right above your carotid.

You sighed, defeated. “… no.”

And you really didn’t want to leave. Lazy mornings like this were your favorites, especially when the world outside your window looked as uninviting as it did today. The rain kept pouring down, and from afar, you could hear the faint sound of thunder. Just the thought of going out there was enough to make you shudder.

For a couple of moments, neither of you spoke a word as you indulged in the warmth of Childe’s embrace. He was always so warm… and on mornings like this, it was particularly hard to leave your bed.

“You’ll be late for work,” he mumbled against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. You let out a deep sigh. “Yeah. You’re right. But…,” you hesitated, wondering if you could really skip work today without feeling like your bad conscious was going to eat you up for the rest of the day, “I don’t want to go. Maybe I should call in sick, or something.”

Childe chuckled. “Catching a cold really isn’t unusual this time of the year.”

You hummed in response. The thought of staying here for a couple more hours really was quite tempting right now. But at the same time, you knew that you would probably feel incredibly guilty if you skipped work without actually being sick. Then again, why would they know? Besides, it wasn’t like the world was going to end if you didn’t show up for one day…

With a quiet sigh, you closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around Childe, knowing very well that your sense of responsibility had lost the battle for good this time. “Fine. I’ll stay,” you agreed. “But if I get into trouble with my boss, it’s entirely your fault.”

“Hmm… I think I can live with that, buttercup.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, please consider liking, reblogging and/or leaving feedback. I'd really appreciate the support! <3

Taglist: @genshinparty @kaeyas-beloved @the-gayest-sky-kid @ajaxstar @nakurak

#childe x reader #childe x you #childe x y/n #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x y/n #childe fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact x reader #gn!reader

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ghostselena · 2 years

Note

rafe x fem!reader

the hawk tower scene and he’s there at the bottom because he followed the pouges and topper pushes you and you’re unconscious he’s a mess fights topper

really angsty and sad

Title: Goner

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: WELP yeah Idk what to tell you here, it ain't a fun one, we all know how the scene goes, minus the happy ending, but there is blood and well, a sad ending pls don’t hate me, 18+

a/n: you said to make it sad..😭 I tried here, I really did. Used lines from the show to freshen up the scenes. (Guys tbh with you, I don't know how JB survived that fall... if I'm being realistic here..) Thank you for 300+ followers!!

Excuse the shitty beginning I swear it gets better quickly, Enjoy!! [Slightly Edited]

You may not copy or post this as your own anywhere.

---

It was the night during Midsummers, your friends had convinced you to leave together. You were running alongside Kiara, leaving a trail of sand behind you.

The both of you laughed, catching up with the rest of the boys, "Later, losers!" Jj yells as you ran to a very familiar place, the small fireplace you all loved to huddle around and tell stories.

John B had a plan, coming clean with the reason to bring you all together. He wanted to use Sarah to obtain information. Kie despised the plan, "Why don't I believe you?"

"I'm trying to make us filthy rich here." he defended, not seeing anything wrong with it.

"Do I look like the type of person, to fall for Sarah Cameron?" He added, raising his eyebrow down at her.

You were involved with Rafe on the low. His sister knew but she kept the promise to not tell on you. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, hating the way this was going down.

"Uh..." Jj mumbled as Pope added, "Do you want us to answer that, or-"

"You can't trust her." Kie sighed in frustration, staring at him—hoping to knock some sense into her friend's head.

"Her brother did hit me in the back, with a golf club." Pope looked up at him, pointing over at his now healing cut below his top lip.

"Rafe and Sarah are different human beings."

"That, they are." You spoke, nodding in agreement with JB, not wanting to add more fuel to the fire.

"Guys, it won't be that bad." You stood up, cleaning your dress from any sand that could've gotten on it. Your mom would kill you if you ruined the dress she helped you buy.

You were invited to Midsummers thanks to your mom having connections, but it was clear you didn't belong there. Your parent's followed you anywhere you went. They craved attention, you didn't.

Rafe had cornered you inside the bathroom, his eyes watching you like a hawk to catch you alone.

Your dress was breathtaking, you made sure of that. The kisses and touches that were shared inside that stall, will forever be engraved inside your mind.

---

The strong thunder and lighting made you jump as you stood behind JB, deciding to follow along with him to make sure Sarah didn't try anything.

Persuaded by Kie you were, now standing there as they spoke. Your eyes looked down, shuddering at the height of the old tower.

"Did you tell your crew, you were here with me?" Sarah spoke, looking up with a small smile.

"Did you?"

"No. I will, though. I don't care." she stated, brushing back her hair as the wind picked up, making you pat down your dress as it kept rising up.

"Guys, please—I'm scared of heights... let's just get down." you nervously spoke, your foot shaking as you took deep breaths, not thinking this through

The weather was certainly not helping you stay calm. The only person who could wasn't here, at least you thought he wasn't.

He lurked behind the branches after following Topper in his truck. Finding it strange that his friend had left his house without saying a word.

He stayed down as he watched Topper walk up the tower slowly and quietly, keeping his noise to a minimum, hoping to catch onto every word.

"And I'm breaking up with Topper," Sarah spoke, turning to face you with a smile as she held your hand for support.

"Really?"

"What, you dont think that's a good idea?"

He stumbled around with his words nervously, redeeming himself quickly, agreeing with the idea being beyond great, happy she felt the same way.

A strong thunder made her latch onto JB, laughing it out together as you jumped nervously, shaking your head, "That's it, I'm leaving you two."

"We're gonna go down now, hold on." He assured you, turning back to press his lips against Sarah, his hands holding onto her hips.

You turned your head to look away, coming face to face with a drunk, pissed-off Topper.

Ah, shit.

"I knew it, Sarah. I knew you were lying to me." He let out, "You stupid, lying whore."

Your eyes widened in shock, putting your hands forwards to stop him from coming closer, "Watch your mouth."

"Tell her to back off, cause I'm not about to beat up a girl." Topper motioned at your frame, pushing you back slightly to get closer to JB.

"Walk, man. Go home. Go home." he pushed Top back, earning back a shove.

"Guys, stop!" you yell, trying to hold Topper back from doing anything, getting in front of him.

"Sarah, let's talk." He lets out, pointing over at her as she shakes her head, "No."

"She doesn't want to!" John B exclaims, getting in front of Sarah, leaving you near the rails.

"What did I tell you, man??" Top yells once more, launching himself to push JB, but he was too quick, his body moved away from the hands that had now pushed you back against the rails.

You screamed as you fell off the tower, becoming aware of the situation you were now in. It all happened too fast.

"Y/N!!" Rafe screamed, watching you hit the ground with a thud, your body going limp.

He ran to you quickly, getting down on his knees as he cried, not believing what he just witnessed.

A small pool of blood slowly surrounded your head, being swallowed by the grass beneath you.

You groan softly, losing focus as you tried to keep still, your lip quivering up at him, your eyes fluttering shut as he spoke, "Oh.. ohh, my god."

He looked down at you, pressing his hands to your cheeks softly, "Stay with me, please." His eyes were tearing up, a few teardrops falling onto your dress.

John B and Sarah had run down quickly, "Rafe?" she asked, tears in her eyes as she stared down at her brother in confusion.

"She's not responding, but she moved," He choked out, his hands now covered in your blood, "We- we have to call someone."

"I got it," JB grabbed his phone, dialing 911 as he stared at your unconscious body, knowing that would've been him if you hadn't been there.

He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, speaking on the phone with the emergency operator on the other line, giving them the address.

Topper stayed behind, hands shaking in despair. You weren't responding, he didn't mean to. He just wanted to talk it out with Sarah, why were you there? He sobbed to himself, gripping his hair—smacking his head repeatedly, "Fuck!"

That grabbed the attention of Rafe, who had yet to leave your side. He was scared leave you alone, his hands wrapped around yours, whispering words to get you to respond, but to no avail—you stayed there, feeling cold to the touch.

The rain had died down, the tower was too high up, and there was no way to survive the fall. You were fading away, the voices and cries out for you were getting quieter, it felt calm.

You were calm.

You took your last breath, a small tear falling down your eye as you did so.

Rafe noticed while his face was pressed against your stomach, slowly turning his head to face you, "y/n?"

"What- what's going on?" Sarah rushed over to his side, using two fingers and pressing them against your neck, hoping to find anything that showed her you were still there.

"She's okay, right?" he nods over at her, holding onto your hand, rubbing his thumb against your hand

The only person that knew about you and Rafe was Sarah. She'd never seen him this happy, calm even. You kept him sane, he felt at peace in your presence. A light that guided him down the right path, had dimmed away, leaving him all alone.

How could she tell him you were gone?

"Rafe.." her voice was shaky, taking a few deep breaths to keep herself together, "She's.. she's gone."

The words circled around his head, thinking of them as a joke. He let out a slight laugh— not believing her, "Sarah, that's not something to joke about."

His eyes looked down at you, his hand brushing the hair away from your face. You looked so peaceful, a sleeping beauty in his eyes.

How could Sarah play with him like this? You're right there. You haven't gone anywhere.

"She's right here, she's gonna be okay—I know she will." He insisted, shaking your body softly, "Wake up, pretty girl, let her know you're okay."

But you didn't move. Your chest had stopped rising, and the faint sound of the sirens was getting closer.

He shook your body once more, turning to John B who was holding Sarah tightly in his embrace, her face hidden away against his chest as she sobbed.

"Why are you just standing? come help me wake her up!" his heart was pounding, he could feel the thump of his heartbeat in his ears.

His hands were shaking as he stared down at you, slowly becoming aware that you were in fact, not coming back.

The lump in his throat had thickened, now on his feet— eyes burning into Topper's back.

He'd heard the news from Sarah, instantly turning away to swallow the guilt. He killed an innocent girl.

"You fucking killed her." He was now headed straight to him, pushing him forward and down to the floor.

Top caught himself with his hands, staying on his knees as he stared up at Rafe, "Look man, I swear I- she fell, the rail must've been rotten!"

Words were not enough to bring you back, with a blow to the jaw— Topper was under Rafe, accepting his beating.

The paramedics attended to your body, deeming you dead at the scene.

The other pogues had appeared, watching the medics put your body inside a body bag, closing it up.

Too lost to notice Topper laying unconsciously on the floor.

Rafe's hands were bloody, most of it was yours. He sat down, pressing his head against his knees, letting it all out as he cried, not wanting to see the ambulance drive away with your body inside.

It was a night he'd never forget. The night a piece of him died along with you, his pretty girl.

But there was something that was quite wrong with his logic, even after months passing from the day you left him, the night he thought he remembered all too vividly, was completely wrong.

Sarah had explained it to him after 6 months.

He'd learned it was all part of his imagination, he couldn't comprehend it. He saw your body moving when you hit the ground, your eyes were on his. He saw you breathing.

How could he be wrong?

But the truth was, when you fell off the tower, the moment you had plowed into the ground, you were gone. Your head had hit the grass with a strong force— a few small rocks breaking through your skull. You had felt no pain, but he didn't know that.

He had imagined it all and it broke him, you were never conscious, it was all a lie. Tricked by his own mind in his state. He felt defeated.

He never got to say goodbye.

He never got to tell you he loved you.

---

I honestly had to stop myself from making this sadder, the pain this boy has been through, and here I am, making it worse.

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teenandbeyond · 2 years

Note

Hi dear, may i ask for Raph x broadway musical actress reader headcannons pls? And remember to hydrate love 💗

Raphael x Fem. Broadway Reader

Thank you, you too! Edit: Honestly, I wrote this way better originally, but my computer randomly decided to update and Tumblr doesn't automatically save, soooo yeah.

Want more from me? M a s t e r l i s t 2

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

🧶The Mutant of the Opera🧶

Warning(s): ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Among your admirers, there's one special turtle who's your biggest fan.

✨✨✨✨

The first thing about you that Raph fell in love with?

Your voice.

It was strong and soulful, drawing him in, but warm enough to keep him rooted one night at practice.

It was your third musical, first in New York, and you were a supporting character, so you didn't have to come every night considering you didn't have many parts.

And opening night? He was mad you weren't the leading role.

You had the looks, the voice, and the charisma.

Hence, the giant turtle currently on the roof ignoring his communication device.

He made sure to show up each night, soon coming to the roof mere moments before you appeared. He had you timed.

🎶"Lift your head up, darlin'!... Never let them see ya' down. Never be afraid of yourself, keep your feet up off the ground...as you fly! To the sky! Reach your dreams, way up high!"🎶

He hoped to see you again.

And he did, the next year, you were a main character, yet not a leading role.

He hated not being able to watch you like everyone else.

But you had such a presence, it honestly didn't even matter.

And after that musical, you had a fanbase.

Raphael created an anonymous account to fanboy with the others.

Then he was waiting, waiting for you to come back.

Then news came, you were coming to New York to stay.

You lived there now!

And a year and a half later, you got that leading role.

"'Bout time. She ain't fit for anythin' else but lead," Raph complained.

"What're you talking about?" Mikey peeked over his shoulder at the newspaper article Raph was reading.

"Don't worry about it--"

"That broadway star you have a crush on?"

Raph scoffed, awkwardly looking away, "It's not a crush..."

"Dude, you've been talking about her for at least three years. It's a crush."

"Is not!" he weakly defended.

It kinda was.

He didn't tell anyone about the magazine he stole that you did an interview in.

And he refused to actually show Leo how excited he was when he came home with a poster of you for him.

He was excited for tomorrow night, you got a role that you deserved and he couldn't wait to see you play it out.

Okay

He was not ready

Your voice sounded different, a good different like you've been working hard on it. It had a different strength to it.

You pulled off a dark, edgy look quite well

And combined with your stage presence being stronger than ever, he was quite flustered by your performance.

🎶"I might be the good girl goin' bad. Getting hotter by the degree. But this freedom makes me glad. I'm happier just bein' me!"🎶

Okay, yeah.

He could admit the dark look was hot on you.

Well, what he could see from this angle anyway.

By the time the show ended, he hadn't even realized it.

No one had, you were that captivating to your audience.

Thundering applause.

And then the musical was over.

But something, something that night had him following you as you left the theater after everyone was gone, your shoulders sagged in relief as you stopped in the alley for a moment.

"Sheesh. That was so nerve-wracking! I hope I did well..."

Are you crazy? You could've been a tree and still be the star of the show, Raphael thinks.

"But I suppose I always get nervous the first night..."

He might have a thing for your voice.

You bite and release your lip as you go into thought.

"Now I have to drink all that wine by myself, everyone kinda just dipped out on me. Even the staff left..."

And the worst thing happens.

Raphael unconsciously adjusts his footing and you hear movement.

"Who's there?"

Raph wished it wasn't him.

Your arm snapped up in defense, "I have pepper spray and I'm not afraid to use it!"

He couldn't help but smile at the cute case the painful spray was in. If not for the contents inside, it wouldn't be very intimidating.

"Come out! I know you're there! Don't bother trying to leave now!"

Fierce little thing, aren't ya'?

"I don't wanna scare ya' doll face," he graces you with a response after some silence.

"I don't scare easily, I lived in Baltimore for a while, so I've seen a lot."

"You ain't seen me."

"Try me."

He sighed, time to scare his crush.

He eased down and out of the darkness, hands up in surrender.

You dropped your pepper spray in shock.

"Well. You're right, I haven't seen someone like you, before."

Your eyes were wide, trying to process what you were looking at.

"I won't hurt ya'...I was just watching you--That don't sound right, uh..."

You tilted your head, the large man--was he a man, he seemed more like an animal...a shell, a turtle--seemed to be more afraid than you were.

"Are you male?"

He didn't expect that to be the first question you asked...he didn't expect you to ask anything at all.

"Yeah. I'm a guy, why?"

"Just checking...I...I know some animals are genderfluid or whatever. I don't know how it is for...turtles, right? You're a turtle. Not a tortoise?"

"I'm a turtle."

You blinked, "A...big...turtle. I don't remember them being that big."

"Mutant turtle, princess."

"I...see."

"You're not scared?"

"Honestly? I'm too confused to be scared at the moment."

"Suppose that's fair."

You apprehensively put away the pepper spray after eyeing his weapons. "I'm [Name]."

"I know."

"..."

"I-I didn't mean for that to sound creepy...I just--I'm a fan..."

A giggle bubbled from your chest, "You're a fan of mine?"

"How could I not?"

Then he continued to go into a ramble.

Which was flattering.

"Eh...That's so embarrassing."

"It seems you've been watching my work for a while."

"I've watched every show you've done here."

"Really? Where? I would've thought you'd be noticed for sure."

"The roof."

"The roof? You could hardly see much from up there."

"Well, I mainly just listen to ya'. I see what I can."

"Hm..."

Raphael did not expect to get a private performance in the empty theatre.

After double-checking everyone was gone and the cameras were off, of course.

You were such a doll and ordered pizza, too.

He snuck in a little wine.

No one had to know.

He'd crack some jokes in between, cutting off your singing and trading it for laughter.

"Raphael--let me--let me finish!"

He had lots of fun.

And during the ordeal...he found his heart beating even harder for you.

#raph x reader #raphael x reader #tmnt raphael #raphael #tmnt fluff #tmnt headcanons #tmnt raph x reader #raphael x hc #headcanons #raphael fluff #raphael x fem. reader #fluff #tmnt bayverse #bayverse raph #teenaged mutant ninja turtles x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles

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lemonrat-artpage · 8 months

Text

i decided to fool around with iterator concepts, using an iterator i made called Thundering Sky. here are my ideas~

antennas are unique to each iterator!

their clothing can be robes, dresses, hoods etc.

they usually have some sort of pearl accessory.

Overseers can project holograms of iterators so they can "talk in person", its very helpful :D

Their antennas can move around like ears! (some explanation behind this- i think iterators and slugcats are two sides of the same coin, so i wanted to draw more parallels. I also wanted add something else that could express emotions, as not having a mouth can be limiting lol)

There could be a puppet maintenance panel on the back in case of things like impaired vision, antenna issues etc. The rectangle with an X simply shows where the mechanical arm is placed, and the black oval shows the primary wire connection. The wires on connecting to the antennas are specialized wires! (I thought they were cool and genuinely couldnt find a better reason. If someone has an idea for it please let me know TwT)

Covering their hard internals and joints could be a skin-like material thats stretchy! It basically serves the same purpose as our skin haha- notes- the text on her screen says "TWS: Are you able to read my essay and give me feedback?"

uhhhh i may do things with this goober so if you wanna see that...¯\_(ツ)_/¯ if you wanna use any of these ideas go for it pls, i'd be honored haha if you also wanna share ideas with me PLEASE DO i want to cram my brain with them

anyways bye

#rainworld #rw #iterator #rw iterator #rain world iterator #concept art #rain world art #rainworld downpour #rw downpour #downpour #lemonratdoodlez

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byebyelullabye · 2 years

Text

fifteen ~ b.b (part 2)

benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

During the summer of her fifteenth year, Y/n L/n realizes the nature of her affections for her best friend Benedict Bridgerton. All the while, the Bridgerton family continually grows exasperated with the pair’s stolen glances and longing stares.

masterlist

~ seven (part 1)

a/n: here she is!! sorry if she's a bit late huhuuu i went in a different direction than originally planned bc i saw the potential in friends to lovers also i wanted more of that mutual respect and admiration. and im a sucker for idiots yearning for each other. once again i experimented with writing styles. pls feel free to spew feedback :)

warnings: horrible ending (my apologies in advance, my English is not that great), annoyed family, agonizing amounts of mutual pining with no resolution (at least not yet), benedict bridgerton (his cuteness deserves its own warning, proceed with caution)

August 13, 1801

Dearest Benedict,

Oh, how I wish you could be here. The word beautiful would be an insult to such magnificence as this. My mother continues to describe Venice as lovely but I fear the English language has yet to create a word to encapsulate the awe I am feeling for every breath I take here. There is so much scenery for the eyes to feast on, I fear I may be blinded. No doubt that you, the incredible painter that you are, could spend an entire lifetime here and never stop. When I am not reading or strolling about the gardens and statues, I think of you. I think of how you would love it here. I think of how you would see it, through those artistic eyes of yours. How you would wax poetic about every single blade of grass. How I would still be enraptured by your words.

I do hope you never get bored of my rambling. I am buzzing with anticipation of every letter from you and news of Mayfair. As much as I love home, excitement flows through the air in Venice so I have much to tell you in the coming days. I send your family all my love. Send me any of your poetry, how I treasure them so.

With love,

Y/n

Every morning of the summer of his fifteenth year, Benedict Bridgerton awoke bright and early with one purpose in mind: to await the letters from his most cherished friend, Y/n L/n, whose family had decided to travel across Europe once more. And usually, everywhere Y/n went, Benedict followed like a lost puppy but as it was, his parents drew the line at following her all the way to Venice. Benedict had never been separated from her for such a long time before, and so, whenever he was not reading or awaiting her letters, he spent his time moping.

And every morning of the past two months, the thunderous rumbling of Benedict's shoes dashing down the stairs had served as the alarm for the awakening of his family. Not because they wanted to, mind you, but rather because every morning, Benedict eagerly sprinted down the stairs with no regard for the other occupants of the house. Every step he took boomed like an earthquake throughout the staircase. When he awoke, everyone else followed suit.

Upon landing on the first floor, Benedict inquired with the maids and footmen and upon realizing that no letters had been delivered yet, he sulked his way to the drawing-room and flung himself on the sofa, waiting in sour suspense.

The family consensus was that the sooner Y/n returned, the better. In the meantime, Benedict was not to be reminded of anything related to her, which proved to be no small task since Benedict spent every waking moment hopelessly pining for his dear friend. And while he always referred to her as his ‘dearest friend’, almost all of Mayfair knew he meant ‘queen of his heart’.

He brightened whenever she walked into a room but dimmed when she left. When Y/n spoke, Benedict listened with all his senses captivated by her. His eyes naturally gravitated toward her, finding her in every soiree and smiling when he did. He kept every little memento of their time together from flower pressings to books they read to each other. On top of all that, all of his sketchbooks were filled to the brim with drawings and sketches of Y/n’s features. Her eyes. Her smile. Her lips. Her hair. Her hands. Even more so now that she was gone since Benedict took irrational measures to ensure he would never forget her lovely face.

While she was there, his pining was only tiresome. The staring. The gazing. The sketching. But with Y/n gone, it became unbearable.

So when her latest letter arrived a few hours later during breakfast, the entire family breathed a humongous sigh of relief. For now, Benedict was satisfied. Lord and Lady Bridgerton share glances at each other, reminiscing their own lovestruck youth. Anthony and Colin sport matching looks of smug smirks, no doubt to tease their middle brother once they corner him after the meal. On the other hand, Daphne and Eloise search their older brother’s expression for a sign of what was on his mind. Would his pining grow worse? Would the sisters have to vacate the premises to escape him?

But all of his family's reactions fade away as he tears through the soft, creamy envelope that bore subtle hints of Y/n’s distinct floral scent. His eyes rapidly devoured the contents of the paper. With every word lovingly written in her handwriting, Benedict could hear her melodious voice speaking in his ear. So far, her family was touring Venice at the moment. He reread the letter three times before letting out a breath, tracing the closing words at the edge of the page.

With love, Y/n

Her salutations always changed like the weather depending on the events of her day, the urgency of her writing, or the ardor of her spirit, but her farewell remained the same:

With love, Y/n

Benedict couldn’t help himself but let a giddy smile spread across his face. He brought his hand to cover up his face and looked down but with how wide he was grinning and how bright his eyes were shining, it was no use. Everyone around the table could see it. Who knows, Y/n could probably see it all the way in Venice (if she looked hard enough).

Without another word, Benedict rushes out of the room. His stomping shoes disrupt the quiet of the otherwise peaceful meal. Everyone, sans Colin who eyed his brother's half-eaten breakfast, followed Benedict with their eyes as he sprinted his way to his room. No one had to ask. They all knew what he was doing.

"Mother, what is that saying about love and how irrational one acts without it?", Daphne asks from the end of the table with a curious albeit teasing tone.

Eloise pipes up across her, "Oh, I know! I know! I am stupider without the other half of my brain"

A booming laugh erupts from Lord Bridgerton, who always appreciated Eloise's snark (no matter how much her mother disapproved).

"Eloise, we do not call other people stupid" Lady Bridgerton reprimands her daughter. After a second she adds as an afterthought, "No matter how irrational they may be acting"

Snickers and chuckles ripple through the table. Not necessarily directed at Benedict only, though all of the family could agree that he was nonsensical nowadays.

"But Mama, what is the saying?" Daphne asks once more.

Lord Bridgerton reaches for his wife's hand and looks into her eyes before answering, "The saying, darling Daphne, is that absence makes the heart grow fonder"

As he declared those words, upstairs, Benedict was rummaging for paper to pen his reply. The world fades out again as all he thinks of is seeing Y/n again. How will their reunion be? When will it be? Has she changed? Will their friendship change? Will they still be friends?

He brushed those thoughts away. All that matters now was the letter at hand. He writes as if at any moment he is to be struck by lightning, quick and frenzied, all the words pouring like water as he scrambles to collect his most important thoughts. I miss you, he writes twice. No matter how forward that may seem, it does not make it any less true. He misses her, with his heart and soul.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Oh, indeed.

Two days later and nearly a thousand miles away, Y/n L/n was pacing back and forth along one of the most breathtaking villas she’s ever seen. But her breathing came in shallow and ragged puffs of air. Her clip-clopping footsteps were short and hurried. Her eyesight was growing so blurry she could not even appreciate the view before her, too preoccupied with the scrambling thoughts buzzing in her head.

You see, five days earlier, Y/n had sent another letter to her friend Benedict Bridgerton and the consequences of her actions had finally caught up to her. Their correspondence may seem insignificant, perhaps mundane, but it is a given rule by the Ton that unmarried ladies cannot write to unmarried gentlemen.

And though neither of them was considered out in society yet, their letters may still be considered quite scandalous, especially coming from respectable families. Especially if her words were taken out of context.

Dearest Benedict,

With love, Y/n

If the Ton, or heaven forbid her mother, ever got ahold of her letters, both their families would be shunned from society. It would break her family’s heart to see her undone, all before she could be presented before the queen. And Y/n could never forgive herself if she were the cause of the tarnishing of the Bridgerton name.

But maybe she’s getting ahead of herself.

She breathes in, sitting down on a bench while she collects her bearings.

Benedict has proven time and time again that he can be trusted with her innermost thoughts and secrets. She’s sure that he would never let anyone read their private letters, seeing as they were written and read for their eyes only. He would never betray her like that.

She breathes out, but then new questions sprout into her mind.

What would the recipient himself think of the letters?

Was she too irritating? Too conceited? Was she too forward? How would Benedict see her then? If he thought of the letter as romantic? Would he be disgusted? Would he turn her away? Would he disregard their friendship?

But among all the loud booming voices of her anxieties, a little one in the back of her mind asked, what does it matter what he thinks?

Well, Y/n tried to reason to herself, Benedict was her friend. It is normal to seek approval from a friend. To know what they think of you, if they think of you with as high a regard as you do for them. It is also normal to miss your dear friend. To look at the stars outside your window and wonder if they are looking at the same ones. To recall the sound of their laughter, playing it in a loop in your head every night before you sleep. To yearn for a simple touch. To ponder their thoughts and to lament the distance between you. To ache for their words, so much so that you wake every dawn to await every letter. Like she had every day since her travel started.

That was normal, right?

She could miss her friends in Mayfair. She misses Eloise and her poorly concealed snorts of laughter. She misses Penelope and her shrewd eye. She misses Daphne and her devoted sensibility. But Benedict…

Her yearning for Benedict is different. Different in a way that she cannot describe yet. She set her eyes on the view before her, pondering how she could paint her feelings in words.

All she knows is that… her longing(?) for his companionship runs deeper. Sadder. Lonelier. More than any longing she feels for anyone else at home.

Home

Benedict is home.

Now, where did that thought come from?

It is true though, the little voice in her head insists. When she thinks of home, she thinks of the green, green grass of the Bridgerton estate. The hustle and bustle of their home. How quiet her house is compared to theirs. How her eyes search for Benedict in every room only to find him staring and smiling back at her. She thinks of Benedict. Everything reminding her of home reminds her of him. His smile. His laugh. His eyes.

Now that kind of thinking… that is not so normal.

But that doesn’t have to mean anything, does it?

Unless…

Unless what? The little voice in her head will not quiet down.

Unless…

Oh.

Nearly two months later, Benedict found himself the past three days sitting in front of the windowsill as his eyes scanned every passing carriage, trying to discern every passenger. His razor-sharp focus distracted him from his repeatedly bouncing leg. A tic that was slowly driving everyone in the room insane. More insane than all of his hopeless pining.

Now, why has Benedict been situating himself to the window?

The answer to that lies folded in his hands. Three mornings ago, Y/n wrote to him with only seven words.

Dear Benedict,

I'm coming home.

Love, Y/n

Whump!

The sound made when Y/n ran into Benedict’s arms. He spun her around a few times with a smile on his face and his nose buried in her neck.

Thump!

The sound made when they tumbled to the ground.

In Y/n’s defense, what else do you expect her to do when she sees the object of her affections for the first time after a whole summer? And what else was Benedict supposed to do? Not welcome the girl- nay, woman- he loves with literal open arms?

Y/n laughs at the sudden fall. At least before she realizes that she is on top of Benedict. And before she realizes that he has been silently staring at her the whole time. Have his eyes always been this blue? Like the sea after the storm?

She looks into his eyes, lost in them, unable to say a word. Her tongue is tied because everything she wants to say cannot be said yet. It would not only be awkward but improper as well to say them at a time like this.

I miss you.

I’m sorry it took me eight years to realize I am in love with you.

Before the impromptu staring contest can continue, Benedict clears his throat and remembers where they are, breaking Y/n’s trance. She stands up and extends her hand to him and he takes it. When he finally stands up, he doesn’t let go. Instead, he brings it to his lips and plants a lingering kiss on her hand. All while looking at her with his piercing gaze.

Y/n grows warm with a mixture of giddiness and surprise. Benedict had never kissed her in any way before and her heart soared at the new show of affection. She wouldn’t have minded if he did it again at some point. She smiles dopily before directing her eyes to the ground, thankful that they weren’t in public but standing before the grand entryway of the Bridgerton House.

“I take it that you missed me, then?” Benedict asks coyly.

Did he read my mind? I-

“What gave me away?” Y/n answers much too quickly.

“Nothing really. I just guessed from the look on your face before you tackled me to the ground” He has the audacity to smirk. Oh, Lord.

"Wha- Tackle? I di- I-I did not tackle you to the ground." Y/n retorts, trying to maintain at least some of her dignity.

“Oh, really? What would you call it then?” He really is smug today, adorable bastard.

Y/n doesn’t resist utilizing some of her newfound knowledge, “Well, the Italians would call it a cadere or a tumble.”

Benedict slowly crosses his arms, “My, my, my. Are you showing off, dear Y/n? Didn’t know you had it in you. Your travels have changed you.”

She straightens her spine a little more and raises her chin, meeting his eyes with a determined gaze.

“Summer has changed me." She continues, "Though I will admit that the travels were a great contributing factor. Do you know how incredible it is to witness such beauty?” She asked sincerely, her eyes softening.

Looking at Y/n, with her hair illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the window, creating a halo around her head. With her small smile playing on her lips whenever she spoke to him, with her flushed cheeks from all the excitement, looking more like an angel every day. He smiled. I do know.

Just then, Lady Bridgerton came in.

“Ah, I thought I heard your voice! And I see that Benedict is already stealing all of your company away.”

“Mother, please do not spread lies like that. Daphne or Colin might hear you”

“But I did hear Y/n’s voice. And here she is. That is no lie, Benedict”, Lady Bridgerton is nothing but accustomed to any of her son’s shenanigans.

“What I meant was, I didn’t steal Y/n. I am the one she came to see anyway.” He smugly regains his composure while Y/n darts her eyes between mother and son frantically.

She exclaims a bit louder than she intended, “Good morning, Lady Bridgerton! Forgive me for not greeting you sooner!” She curtsies a little too hurriedly that she stumbles but Benedict is there to hold her arms to steady her before she falls down again.

“Good morning to you too, Miss L/n. Will you join us for tea? Maybe regale us with tales of your travels? Benedict might benefit from it since he is yet to go on his Tour…” Lady Bridgerton is also nothing if not clever.

Y/n looked at Benedict standing beside her, a playful quirk emerging on the corner of her lips. “I would be honored to”, she answered, never taking her eyes off him.

“Now, was this before or after you fell into a lake?” Benedict asks before taking a sip of tea.

Y/n’s eyes widen as she turns her head, checking to see if anyone within the vicinity heard Benedict’s words. She slowly turns to look at him to find him hiding his smirk with a cup of tea. Somewhat infuriated, she grabs the side of his shirt to pull him close enough so she could whisper into his ear, “I wrote that to you in confidence.”

He continues sipping his tea with a smirk, “Y/n, there is no one here beside us. Thankfully, my mother took the hint that two friends should be allowed to catch up with supervision.”

Y/n shrugs and blinks at her teacup, tilting her head, then taking a sip. “I suppose that is fair.”

Benedict claps his hands twice to direct her attention to him again. “Well then, now that is out of the way. Continue with tales of your travels, dear Miss L/n. How does it feel to be a lady of culture?”

“Correction: a woman of culture”, she corrects him.

“Now that you are a woman of culture, do you still hold a love for Mayfair? For England?”, Benedict pouts.

Y/n looks at him affronted and starts passionately, “Why yes, as a matter of fact, I do. My family passed by the Lake District just about North of here and oh Benedict, it’s just-”

She sighs and closes her eyes, then snaps out of her trance and-

Gasp

Slightly mortified, Y/n continues, “Well, now that I think about it, maybe you should not go there”

She quickly becomes unusually quiet. Sipping her tea and taking dainty bites off the plate of biscuits, refusing to look Benedict in the eye.

“And why ever not? What could possibly taint your perspective? After all your praise in your letters?", Benedict asks.

Y/n sighs before continuing, “If you must know, it is because upon exploring, I found the lakes where all the poets went to die. And no scenery, no matter how exquisite, is worth you dying”

Benedict is stunned silent, his jaw hanging open. He closes and opens his mouth repeatedly to form words but nothing comes out until-

“You overestimate my abilities, dear Y/n. I am not nearly as great an artist as you think I am”, he says, trying to mask his insecure words with a small smile.

Y/n is having none of that. She faces him, finding his eyes and unabashedly staring into them to prove her point.

“And I think you do not believe in yourself, not nearly half as much as I do. Benedict, you have more creative talent in a single eyelash than I do in my entire body. Why can't you see tha-"

Benedict drops his cup down and takes her face into his warm hands so she cannot look away from his gaze. She represses a shiver, not that he notices.

“Now see, that is where I draw the line. Do not diminish yourself, Y/n. Not for anybody. Not for your mother, your father, and most certainly not for me”

She meets his gaze head-on with a steady stare of her own and holds onto his wrists. Both of them are stubborn and unwilling to concede. They remain that way for a while. With his hands on her face. Her hands around his wrists. Gazing into each other's eyes. Trying to harden their stare, instead finding the other's eyes softening. After God knows how long, it is Benedict who breaks the silence.

"Sit for me."

Whatever words Y/n was expecting, it was certainly not that.

"I beg your pardon?", she asks.

"If you truly, truly believe in my artistry-"

"I do"

"Then sit for a painting. My painting If you don't mind", he pleads.

"...But why me?"

"Why ever not you, Y/n, have you ever seen your face in a mirror?"

Y/n grows more and more flustered, but she refuses to let it show.

"Why me? Why not your sisters? Or your mother? Or any other beauty of Mayfair?", she rambles.

"You're the only beauty of Mayfair"

"Don't let Daphne hear you say that"

Benedict whines exasperated that she is not taking this seriously.

"I want to paint you. Just you, Y/n. Just you."

She stills and mulls it over, taken aback by his solemnity.

There's no harm to it really. All I have to do is sit still and look pretty. Maybe talk to him a bit. Talking to Benedict is always easy. Maybe watch him paint. See the cute little scrunch of his nose when he concentrates- Y/n, focus!

"I would be honored", she finally rewards him with a large grin.

He breathes out, a smile gracing his lips.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this"

“What on Earth do I do with my hands?”, Y/n asked as she fidgeted into her seat in front of the window.

Just moments ago, she walked around the room in frantic steps with all her hair flying about. Her eyes were wild with panic and slight anxiousness. Her hands trembled as she adjusted her dress, minute to minute. To anyone looking at her and only her, she might have appeared as somewhat of a mad woman. But to Benedict, he saw the love of his life his best friend being herself.

“Well, I would suggest folding them in your lap but I know that you cannot sit still for a single minute without moving”, Benedict really shouldn’t be looking that pleasing pleased while wearing a smirk.

“Would you rather I wring your neck with my hands around it?!”

Then, he starts laughing.

Laughing.

This bastard-

“Benedict!”

He chuckles, wheezing, before answering, “Am I wrong though?”

“Christ, Benedict, do you want your painting or not?”, she asks, trying to hide a smile.

“Well, I do, but I still want my muse to be comfortable”

Y/n’s cheeks grow warm at the words muse.

“What do you suggest I do then? About my hands?”, for emphasis she flails her arms a little too madly, nearly causing Benedict to burst into fits of laughter again. She smiles widely at the little amused shake of his head.

“Do whatever feels natural, Y/n”, he sits less formally. “Even if it means you look like a confused flamingo”

She gasps, affronted. “Aren’t your subjects supposed to stay still for you to= I don’t know- capture their features clearly?”

“Oh please, Y/n, you need not worry about that. I know your features quite well, I’ve been staring at them for the past eight years”

How on Earth is he saying these things so casually? He’s been staring at me?

Wait, that’s normal for friends. Don’t get ahead of yourself, you goose.

“.....Y/n?”, Benedict asks after she’s been too quiet for long.

“Hmm?”, she shakes her head out of her trance.

“As I said, what would feel comfortable for you?”, he leans back on his chair and grabs his paintbrush.

“Benedict, you need me to sit still and I want your painting to be good and quite frankly it is taking everything in me right now not to pace back and forth but how can you paint me if I move about?”

“...Would you like to take a walk?”

Y/n smiles, “I love to walk”

“I know you do”

“Mother, we have to do something. This is agonizing”, said Colin, as the rest of the Bridgerton clan watched Benedict paint Y/n after their equally nauseating walk.

“Agonizing? My, my, Colin, how you exaggerate”, replied Lady Bridgerton to her third son as she exchanged glances with her husband.

“Oh no, Mother, for once I agree with my brother on this one. You should have seen them when they first saw each other this morning. It was pure agony”, Eloise piped in, standing next to Colin.

“You were watching them, El?”, asked Anthony with a teasing tone.

“No, I was not! I just caught Ben staring at Y/n with hearts in his eyes. It makes me want to vomit just looking at them, my god!”

Daphne quips from the piano, “At least Y/n is discreet about her affection.”

“Y/n? Discreet? HA! Look at them right now!”, Anthony exclaims.

All of their heads turned to the scene before them: Benedict carefully painting Y/n’s hands as she scribbled at her notebook and Y/n sneaking little glances at the little scrunch of Benedict’s nose and smiling to herself.

“Does Benedict truly not notice?”, Colin asks.

Eloise answers, “He is too caught up in his painting of her and I quote, ‘pretty hands’”

“He really said that?”, Daphne asks.

Anthony sighs and rolls his eyes, “We’ve all seen his sketchbook. If he didn’t say it, we know he’s thinking it.”

Colin questions, “Does Y/n know about the sketchbook?”

“If she did, they would be engaged by now”, Daphne replies.

“I beg your pardon, Daph, but I don’t think so. Y/n would never interpret the sketchbook as ‘affection’”, Anthony quips.

“Well, what would she interpret as his affection?”

Anthony answers, “Nothing unless he drops to his knee and proposes”

Colin rolls his eyes, “God, she’s oblivious”

“I’m starting to wonder if she’s blind. I mean, no woman is this dense”, Eloise exclaims.

“And I’m wondering what dramatics have taken over my children this fine morning!” Lord Bridgerton asks the room, causing his family to turn to him.

Anthony starts, “Father, do not tell me that you can stomach more of this hopeless pining from both of them-”

“When we could end it right now!”, continues Eloise.

“I’m sorry, children, but this is a moment that the pair must realize on their own”, Lord Bridgerton calmly replies.

“But this is torture!”, exclaims Colin.

Lady Bridgerton speaks up, “One day, we will laugh at all this. Maybe at their wedding even, but until then, you are not to say a word about either party’s feelings for each other, understood?”

…

Reluctantly, all siblings reply, “Yes, Mother.”

“Thank you, and who knows? Maybe Y/n and Benedict will experience this torture when one of you starts their season”

Collective groans ensue.

TAGLIST (everyone who requested a part 2):

@severewobblerlightdragon @samkysnks @crimesolvin @stopimtryingtoreid @ivettt @liahaslosthermind @idli-dosa-reblogs @canpillowscry

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