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f0point5 · 14 hours

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would you consider writing the time when max realized that he loved yn?

i remember that he was like in a mindset of idgaf what happens with her im js happy being best friends and having her in my life but i wonder how he got to that point

The way this came out…idk I hope you like it 😂 I really wish I’d retconned this whole situation but I stayed true to the fic timeline.

I just…I really hope you don’t hate it 🫠

✨Set after Max wins his 3rd championship in Qatar✨

Honestly, who (is he) to fight the alchemy?

Max has been in love before. He knows what it feels like. It felt like winning a race. The adrenaline, the elation, the satisfaction, the sliver of relief. He didn’t think there was a better feeling, and if you feel that when you’re with someone, then that must be love.

He never felt like that with you. So he wasn’t in love. He loved you, but he wasn’t in love. Thank God for that, he’d always thought to himself. Max didn’t put effort into games he wouldn’t win and the games you played with men didn’t have a rule book. He was just so lucky, to have you as a friend, and a roommate, and a feline co-parent, and that’s how it would stay.

Except, when the journalist had asked him if you were going to live with him after he retired, he didn’t know what to say. Of course you would, except, how would your boyfriend feel about that? And of course he wanted you to, but he wanted a family, too. But you were family, in some complicated way that he’d never realised before that moment might mean that you wouldn’t always be…with him.

And he didn’t have the desire or the language skills to explain that to a random German journalist. He’d rattled off some answer about how he never knew what the future would bring. It was true, he didn’t think much about the future. But he should have, because when he did it always had you in it.

He wanted a house, and a wife, and kids. It wasn’t like he envisaged doing all that with you. Except, he hadn’t envisaged doing any of it without you, either. It was always you imagined having breakfast with, you he imagined would teach his kids to ski, you he thought about when he thought about buying one of those mansions in the hills above Monaco. Naively, he hadn’t imagined either of you with partners that would mind you and Max living your lives together. It sounded fucking stupid when he thought about it. But, it’s not like he was going to marry you, because he’s not in love with you.

It’s not like I’m in love with her. He’d said that before.

Aren’t you, Max?

Isn’t he?

Is he?

So now here he is, at this totally-not-a-party party, celebrating his this third world championship, wondering if he’s in love. Wondering if that even matters. The music is loud, not enough to drown out his thoughts. He can’t even drink too much because he still has a race tomorrow. He feels lightheaded enough.

He doesn’t know why he’s questioning himself. He has an answer. He knows what being in love feels like, and he doesn’t feel that about you. How he does feel about you, is…not quantifiable. Except he’d really like a name for it right about now. One that’s not going to spin his whole world off its axis. But then, he’s not exactly the axis, is he? Not really.

He should feel like the centre of the universe tonight. He’s lost count of how many times he’s received praise and congratulations, plaudits, and pictures, even gifts. Everyone wants to be in his orbit, everyone wants to talk to him, everyone except you.

You’re leaning against the balcony, bopping along to the music, talking to his dad of all people, your flushed face and lazy grin telltale signs you’ve had too much to drink. Jos is as close as he ever gets to smiling, a telltale sign he’s had too much to drink, and the two of you are, as usual, talking over each other. His eyes linger on your long legs and gentle curves. It would be cutting a corner, to say he’s in love with you, because how can you not be at least a little bit infatuated with the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen? But that’s not love, exactly. Even half drunk, with all this talk of spinning and the party beginning to blur at its edges, the only thing he can see clearly is you. You don’t even notice him looking, because you’re so used to feeling eyes on you.

No, being around you has never felt like winning much of anything. It actually feels a bit like he’s fighting for his life. It feels like…driving, he realises, as the gin starts to hit.

Being around you was like being in the RB19. Like being behind the wheel of something that could kill you, but fits you like a second skin. Like the illusion of having control of a force of nature. It was like living on a knife edge, but building a home there. Comfortable with the uncomfortable, they’d called him, and nothing had ever made him as uncomfortable as you.

If that was being in love, he’d probably been in love with you for as long as his dad said he was.

You don’t notice him looking, but Jos does. He waves Max over, and Max is glad for an excuse. His body gets up before he’s decided to, and he blinks furiously as he walks, trying to focus his thoughts enough to hold a conversation with you when he’s beginning to think he might-

“Maxy,” you say, grinning like it’s the first time you’ve seen him all night.

Fuck. Fuck.

Oh, fuck. The gin’s coming back. For a second he feels like he’s either going to ask you to marry him or vomit all over you.

“I’m leaving. She’s all yours,” Jos says, and Max steadies himself. His dad leans over and gives him one last hug before switching to Dutch. “Get her to bed. And yourself, also. You’ve still got to race tomorrow,”

Max nods and waves him off, closing his arms around you when you wobble, leaning into him for stability. Jos gives you a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, and you teeter again, pushing you further into Max. The extra weight is like a balm on what is now a gaping, raw wound, with the nerves exposed. He will never recover from this.

You turn in his arms, scrunching your nose in displeasure as you look up at him. “I hate this hat,” you flick the brim of his World Champion cap. “Worst hat they ever made you. Next year, we do a better one,”

“Okay,” he says, chuckling as the hat leaves his head.

“Can I have this?” You’ve already put it on.

“Sure,”

Take it. Take my Valkyrie. Take the trophy. Take my last name.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He doesn’t know how he’s looking at you. Is it different than he looked at you two hours ago? Different then when you were 19?

He just shrugs, tipping the hat back for you, since it’s so big. “You’re drunk,” he yells over the music.

You lean in, so close that he’s intoxicated by the scent of your perfume, champagne, and Red Bull. He turns away from you slightly, because he’s had too much to drink to be this close to you.

“I know,” you whisper to him, your lips grazing his cheek as you talk. That’s not helping. He turns back to you, finding your eyes searching his. For the first time, he’s worried what you might see. Because you’ve always seen him too clearly. It was awful, then exhilarating, now it’s just fucking terrifying. Your eyes narrow and Max thinks you’re about to outright accuse him of wanting- “You’re supposed to be drunk, too,”

He laughs. He laughs at your pout, at getting away with it, for a little while longer, at least, and he laughs because on the night he’s won a world championship he realises he lost his heart a long time ago.

Loving you didn’t feel like a winning a race, it felt like driving in one. And after all, isn’t driving all he ever wanted to do?

“I am, Engel,” he says, “trust me, I am.”

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #max verstappen fanfiction

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cherryredstars · 2 days

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OH MY GOD REQUESTS ARE OPEN💃🏾💃🏾

gosh cherry i love you and your blog sm it makes my day😭

could i please have a college or highschool au where reader studies subjects like social science and business and literature and he does stem subjects and he at first has like a superiority complex, he doesn’t intend to, but he can’t help it, until he sees the reader like talk about social issues or how she can remember 17 step procedures and shit and he’s like…wow. maybe they can be together and he sees her pretend to teach people to learn and he’s learning stuff from her and it’s wholesome asf

god i don’t know i’m sorry im rambling😭😭 you don’t have to ofc but thank you anyway

and again, love you!!

Thank you, love!!!

He's the smartest person he knows.

It's not narcissistic if it's a fact. He's the top of his major program, already has offers for Ph.D programs nationwide mailed to his door. He's sure to get into any genetics department he wants for grad school. He's the star of the industry-path students. He's just that good, and what's the harm in taking pride in your accomplishments?

But he's never met someone like you before.

Usually he wouldn't care for people like you, with their abstract liberal art degrees in nonsense majors that'll just collect dust in a box in an attic somewhere. But there is something so enduring about you, about everything you do. The way you just know what people are thinking based on the twitch of their fingers and why they think it. The way you're so open to everything in a way that would make his lab buddies laugh with their one-way minds. It amazes him, the way your view is so wide in a way that something like genetics or STEM can't comprehend. In a way they don't allow. There is something so breath-taking about the way your mind has this endless freedom that he can't even grasp. Like a kaleidoscope of colors that are simultaneously beautiful and overwhelming to the senses. Something his factual mind craves.

The first time he had seen you, he was in the library. It isn't a place he would usually go to, but he had to collect some textbooks for his professor in the storage closet. He had gotten in a bit of trouble that day for taking so long, but how could he resist when he had heard the sweet cadence of your voice through the open door of a mini-lecture room. Very few students were in the room, it looked like a side presentation; one of those assignments that forced students to present their ideas on a topic to a group of people to try to captivate them into agreeing with your findings. There was a sort of fiery passion in the way you spoke, a hardened steel in your eyes that showed your resistance to back down. It was... enchanting, siren-like. So much so that he had been forced to sit in one of the empty seats in the back of the room, eyes stuck on you as you paced the front of class and rebutted comments from your peers.

He had no idea what you were talking about, but it still had that overwhelming effect on him. One that had him pressing the surface of his stomach against the hard edge of the lecture tables, his senses honing in to hear every last syllable that departed from your lips. There was this dream-like quality to you, something that consumed the mind and made them listen. A sort of intelligence that he would never know or understand. One that he would spend hours trying to learn if you were the one explaining it. He can't remember how long it took for him to start breathing again when your eyes scanned the room and locked onto him, clear confusion on your face at the random presence of college's most-awarded student. He could feel his heart bursting against his ribs, mouth parting slightly from the honor to be the center of your attention for even a few seconds before you looked away and carried on.

Suddenly, he didn't feel like the smartest person in the world. Not when you left him absolutely stupefied.

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devnmon · 2 days

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too sweet. || a.m.

a/n: heyy ok i know you guys have probably seen enough of the fics with hozier songs but i also love him and when i heard this track the minute it was released, i was like oh yeah this is arthur morgan core. if ur bothered by me writing this then i say that is simply your problem ngl. in the case that you are reading this, it's just a silly little blurb that sums up arthur morgan in the eyes of the song too sweet by hozier !

wc: 632 | warnings: mentions of smut (that's all)

Arthur Morgan was never an early bird. In fact he despised it. Most times he did was only during a hunt, when he woke smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze. You– you were different; completely rising before the sun rose like clockwork. While you always told him never to stay up till the sunrise, he did, arrogantly, anyways.

He was amazed at how you were so easily able to exist in a world that fought against you– not only in the gang, but as a woman. Drunk on life you seemed to be, Arthur would say, while he took his whiskey neat. In his bed at 3am many nights, he took pride in getting to lay next to you when the slower moments came to pass.

You kissed him in the early mornings when you rose, lips still tasting of the previous night's wine. The sweet morning greeting of your lips had him praying for you to lay with him longer. Arthur was lovesick and kept you wherever he went; whether that meant drawings of your from across camp, or your name written with a heart next to his on a different page. On the off chance he gets back to camp early in the mornings before you wake, he leaves you the most exquisite trinkets for you to remember him by.

It's not often he must stay out of camp for longer than a couple days, but when he does, he returns with a heartfelt apology that takes place in your shared bedroll, begging you to accept his apology with every praise. Your touch has been ingrained into his mind, body. and soul, and yet– it burns his skin every time. Each press of your lips and swipe of your tongue over his skin.

He's so goddamned lucky you've let him at your body long enough to know how well his melds with yours like putty. You're the cream he voids from his coffee– because you're too sweet for him. You're too sweet with your sweet lips like heaven's gate, and Arthur is marveled at how you let him of all men kiss you.

The natural beauty you walked around with every day made Arthur seethe with envy at the fact that other men would gaze upon what was his. Most times when you clock his jealous stares and frustrated grunts, it's instinct when you immediately reassure him that you're not going anywhere.

His frustration is released among his true aim towards the spots on your body that make you mewl and call out his name like a mantra. It boosts his ego through the roof like a rocket when you respond and intertwine your soul even more with his.

When he's free from the constant back and forth from camp and jobs, there's a rare moment where Arthur dedicates two or three days to only you. He whisks you away to an expensive hotel, and uses his every power to bring you a new kind of ecstasy when he shares the bed with you. Arthur never wants you to think he doesn't have time to spend on you; he proves that any moment he can.

At that point, he'd gladly die between your thighs just to hear the wanton noises of carnal desire you feel for him and only him. He's seen so much pain in the world, that he's astonished someone like you can be beautiful and perfect so naturally.

You're the sun he wakes to every morning, the contrast of the heat during the cool rainy nights. As sweet as wine and the grapes it has been made from; he'd wait forever to taste your kiss again as long as you were there to ease the aches and pains.

Until then... he'll take his whiskey neat.

#ryesff #devnmonwrites #devnmon writes #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan blurb #rdr2 fandom #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 days

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Based on this request.

Can i request maybe an insecure reader who, when her and eddie finally have sex, starts to cry, like they had a normal relationship before but the crying just comes out by surprise (i repress alot🥴) and basically asks/begs him to show her how much he loves her and prove she can be loved/enough, that shes the only one he wants, that girls dont have shit on her and he cant even imagine ever wanting to be with someone else

(Ive been reading alot of cheating fics and fics about eddie fucking other people and am very broken) i was imagining soul crushing, worlds colliding healing wounds slow beautiful sex for the both of them and he loves her so much, he starts crying

Request by anon. Mdni, fluff and soft Eddie.

💌

Eddie lays you on the bed, his hands ghost over your body and he kisses your neck. You moan, everything feels so heightened and your emotions bubble to the surface.

It's when you begin to cry.

All day you've felt off, lost in memories from the past and the feeling that you weren't good enough. Remembering words your exes said to you and last heartbreaks.

Eddie stills, "Shit, what's wrong princess?" You wipe your tears but they won't stop and he kisses them away, looks at you worried.

How can you explain to him how you feel? "Show me you love me Eddie, please show me how much you love me" his fingers ghost over your cheek as he wipes the stray tears away and he softens.

"I love you so much sweetheart, what's this about? you've never cried before during sex? Fuck, did I hurt you? Please tell me I didn't hurt you" he looks so anxious and you soothe him.

"No, no. It's just. I thought guys loved me before and then they left or cheat on me and tell me it's my fault" you knew it wasn't but the words hurt and had clung to you.

"Well they are dickheads. Who could cheat on you? You're incredible. I don't want any other woman because you're the one for me. I'm so lucky to have you in my life princess"

You feel yourself relax a tiny bit but you're still anxious. "You don't want anyone else?"

"Fuck no, I'd never cheat on you princess. Fuck, you're my world. I love you so much sweetheart, I can't imagine being with anyone else because no one compares to you" he kisses you, holds your hand and squeezes it tight as the two of you make love.

It's beautiful and passionate. You and Eddie had never had sex like this, just so gentle and slow, savoring each other.

There's tears in his eyes as he thrusts slowly, his hands clasp yours and you lose yourself in Eddie.

"I love you so much" he whispers, his eyes full of reverence and his voice shakes just a tiny bit. He loves you so much and he will show you that he does every single day.

Because you're everything to him and he never ever wants you to feel unloved. You have his heart and he always wants you to know that.

♥️💌

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie blurb #soft eddie munson

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dlysthings · 1 day

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Little crush pt.6

-> Previous part <-

A/N: Im so sorry for how much time it took me to write this part, but these past 2 weeks i was sick and ha a lot of sterss at school so i apologise. This is not proofread and english is not my native language so i apologise for any mistakes.

At the woods Daryl was finally at piece, the only place that could give him this scarce pleasure. The sound of the running water around him never filed at calming him down. The creek on which’s side he was sitting on was his little sanctuary, hidden deep into the forest around your town. The sounds were slowly starting to put his mind at ease. He needed that, craved it. After the pain he felt at lunch he needed to take his mind of that, forget a bit about it so he can face it later. It wasn’t the best strategy but it worked for him. If pushing it down until it all became too much to handle and lashed out on the nearest person to him. The only thing he worried about was this person to not be you. Even after hurting him you didn’t deserve his harsh words. He would never hurt you, ever.

But even his own little heaven on earth couldn’t make him stop thinking of today. Why did you not come? At the end it was your idea, so maybe you actually liked spending time with him. Or at least that was what he thought. Maybe one of your friend heard about it and reminded you of the trash he actually was and then you decided to just don’t show up. It should be this. You didn’t want your friends to see you sitting with the “weirdo redneck” the whole school knew him as. And he couldn’t blame you, how could he? At the end of the day he needed to remember who he was.

Still this didn’t stop him from feeling hurt and let down by you. The excitement he felt when he bought the piece of cheesecake, hoping it will bring a smile to your face, was almost overwhelming. His heart was beating like a jackhammer inside his chest. While he waited for you to come and sit, he was thinking how to ask you out. Of course he couldn’t be smooth like the popular guys and straight up ask you. He was thinking that maybe going into the woods and showing you his favorite spots with the reason that was for your upcoming biology quiz. At your house you seemed interested at the subject so he thought this was perfect. And maybe if he was brave enough he could ask you out on a real date. Buy you dinner and walk you to your house. Maybe you would have given him another kiss on the cheek.

Yet that was only om his head. As soon as he saw you with your back to him, sitting with your friends, he knew he shouldn’t have lie to himself. Both of you were from different worlds and he needed to understand that. From now on he would keep his distance from you. Sitting away from you, not staring like he always does. Only this will keep him from being hurt again.

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The next day his plan was on the verge to fail every time you came within his eye side. In every class the two of you had together you were trying to sit in the closest possible seat, the whole time he could feel your eyes practically glued to his head, but he wouldn’t budge. After every class he would get out the fastest way possible. Even though he didn’t even want to look at you he was secretly hoping, deep down, that you will make him stop and explain that you didn’t dump him yesterday, that it was only a mistake. Something like you forgot or a friend of yours needed you for something really important. But he knew he shouldn’t hope. It was useless.

On the other hand, you were desperate to get Daryl’s attention, trying everything you could think of. The first two times you tried to catch up to him and explain why you didn’t end up with him yesterday, he walked so fast that it was impossible to even think of that. You knew he was ignoring you and you deserved it. But the truth was that you did wanted to sit with him, to be in his company again and to get lost into his beautiful blue eyes.

What happened yesterday was that you completely forgot. Until the moment you saw him leave the cafeteria you were so worried about the fact that you just received another bad grade in Science, a subject that you never seemed to understand, and the whole time were thinking of how to change it. It was so stupid and you knew that you had hurt him. The reason was so foolish and the whole rest of yesterday you were thinking how to explain it so it wouldn’t sound like something made up. At the end you decided to be honest with him. You would tell him the truth about what happened and then pray that he won’t call you a liar and never speak to you again.

You finally were able to sneak up on him after school. Fort the rest of the school day you were laying low, walking in different hallways to not seem like you were trying to catch him. So he relaxed, thought that you gave up on him and everything is how it always was. Not that he was happy, no. Every time he looked around and didn’t spot you within eye sight he felt a little pang in his heart, making him drop his shoulders. He didn’t even bother trying to listen to any of the teachers. He couldn’t make it a day without seeing you. How pathetic. He didn’t even notice your figure standing next to the door he was about to go through.

“Hey, Daryl, do you have a second?” Your words made him jump, turning towards you, looking like he saw a ghost and he couldn’t take his eyes of you. You were looking amazing as always, but a worried expression was adoring your face. Why would you be worried? Immediately he was the one concerned now. Did something happen to you? It didn’t look like you were crying so that was a good sign. The wrinkle between your eyebrows deepened and he remembered that you had asked him a question. “What do ya want?” The moment he said it he regretted the gruff way he spoke and the way your face turned from worried to sad didn’t help either. Good job ya idiot, now ya made’er sadder. “I’m sorry for yesterday” You said with your eyes looking at the floor, not being able to look into his eyes and see the disappointment and pain in them. “I got a D in Science and was really distracted and at the end forgot. I’m so, so sorry. Let me make it up to you. Do you want to go out sometimes?” At your confession Daryl was dumbfounded. He hoped that you really forgot and had a problem, but he never seriously considered it. He was sure you were too embarrassed to sit with him, let alone ask him to hang out with you. And how could he decline that, maybe he was even able to help you out with your troubles. He was always good at science so maybe he could study again with you.

“Ye-yea, I want’a hang out with ya. I can also help ya with science.” At that he seemed too eager so he tried to play it down with a casually “only if ya want’ta” and leaning on the near wall, looking at the smile appearing on your face like it didn’t make butterflies flutter inside his stomach. In a matter of seconds your face turned from sad and worried to a blinding smile. The knowledge that he was the one to brighten up your mood made him feel prouder than he has ever been. “Really?” The joyful look atop your face was enough to make Daryl weak in the knees. No one has ever looked at him with such a sincere hope as you. The attention you were giving him made his cheek burn in a bright red color and he ducked his head so you wouldn’t see it. There was a warmth inside him, going to every part of his body. Such a unique feeling, but oddly a nice one as well. “So... um..do ya want me ta help ya?” He said. “Of course. Do you want me to come to your house?” You offered, thinking he will prefer to be at his place.

Daryl’s eyes widened at your seemingly innocent suggestion. His heart was beating a thousand miles an hour in his ribcage. Last time he came to your place so it was only fair if this time he was the host. And he was too shy to ask to come to your house again. But there was no way in hell he was letting you see the dump he called “home”. You were looking at him with an anticipating gaze. He couldn’t let you down, disappoint you. Just as he was about to ask to come again at your house an idea formed into his head. There was a place he could always go, calm and safe. A place where he felt at piece and wanted to share with you. The woods he always went to calm down was a perfect place. The side of the creek cutting through the forest was an ideal spot to take you and he wouldn’t need to explain his home situation.

“Actually I was thinkin’ of a spot I know. It’s quiet and nice.” He offered and was now anxiously waiting for your reaction. “Of course. Where is it?” you asked. “I can’t really explain it. I can pick ya up from yur house and will show ya. Okay?” Just after saying it he realized how this sounded. He was offering to take you to a place you didn’t know and you probably didn’t trust him. Nice job, ia dumbass. Now she’s gonna think yur some kind of creep. Realy smart. He braced himself for your rejection of his idea. But instead you were on board with it. Even seemed like you weren’t worried at all. The two of you agreed he will pick you up at 10 am this Saturday and later he will drop you off.

After both of you agreed on the details you said goodbye and went on your way, smiling to yourself that Daryl didn’t resent you about yesterday. And the help he offered felt like a blessing. If you were lucky tomorrow, there was a chance to maybe finally make a move towards him.

Daryl was still leaning on the wall you left him at and he couldn’t believe his luck, but there was an unsettling feeling inside him. Just yesterday he swore to keep his distance from you. What if you accepted his offer only for his help? It didn’t sound unbelievable, but you didn’t seem like the person to do so. The joy in your eyes seemed genuine and so did your face. But that didn’t stop him from being afraid he was going to be hurt again. Maybe he should tell you that something came up and he couldn’t, just stick to his previous plan, but he didn’t have it in himself to disappoint you. The only thing he could do was hope for the best. Perhaps he will find the courage to finally do something about his crush on you.

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The time until Saturday couldn’t come faster. That was the thought replaying in Daryl’s head while trying to fall asleep. It was Thursday around 12 pm and he was laying in his room, staring at the clock on his nightstand. The house was quiet save for the sound of his dad’s snoring. When Daryl came home he was greeted with the sight of his father passed out in his armchair, a bottle of beer on the ground next to it. This view was the best Daryl could hope for. The other instance was his dad coming home late into the night and taking whatever anger he felt out on Daryl. After he felt he inflicted enough abuse, his father would go into his bedroom and pass out, loudly starting to snore.

Daryl would almost always stay in his room, in a corner feeling like the weakest person on earth, the most he would do was craw in his bed, looking at the ceiling. On the outside he looked calm, just laying but inside his head he was screaming to himself to finally do something. To get up and move out like Merle, to run from his father. And just when he felt he had enough courage his dad would come with new insults to add on the long list. It almost felt like he was able to sniff out when Daryl felt even an ounce of self-esteem and bravery. Then he would come with blows and kicks, curses spilling from his mouth, making Daryl remember who he really is. And where he belonged.

A creaking sound made Daryl snap out of his thoughts. Wistfully he knew all to well this sound, the very one of his dad’s room’s door. It always creaked, almost like an alarm for him to hide. And that was what he did. Going to his window and carefully lifting it up, so he won’t make himself known to his wasted father. As soon as he could craw out of it he maneuvered his body and landed on the outside of the trailer. Just on time to hear the door to his room open and heavy steps come inside. He styled his movements and strained his ears to hear his father’s reaction. In his head he was praying Will wouldn’t glance out of the window, because if he did Daryl was screwed. Maybe there really’s a god. Daryl thought as the only thing heard from his room was a slurred curse and then the sound of his bedroom door being closed. His whole body relaxed and he slumped onto the side of the trailer. That was a close call and he knew how lucky he was. The down side was there was no way to go in soon so he needed a place to stay. The thought of going to your house flashed across his head but then he realized how it will look. Him appearing outside your front door at midnight at a school night. And naturally there would be too many questions.

He couldn’t do that so he settled on going for a walk around town. It was late so the streets were mostly empty save for a few cars and some groups of teenagers. He stopped at the convenience store and went inside. The only person onside was a middle aged woman, dressed in the store uniform. She only glanced at him and then returned to the magazine she was reading. One of the things Daryl liked about coming there at night was that no one cared who were you. The employees would just look up at you and then return to their tasks. Going to the fridges he grabbed a can of Cola and headed towards the register. Placing the can on the counter he reached for a pack of gum and also placed it on the counter. The woman scanned the items and snatched the bills Daryl had handed her. Placing the money in the register she didn’t say anything to him as he walked out.

Now outside he opened his coke and took a sip of it. He needed to wait a bit more before going back to hi place, just in case his dad still hasn’t fell asleep yet. Looking around and seeing the local park he thought he might as well go there. The park was well lit and a few benches were scattered around for people to sit on. While walking around his mind wandered off towards you. What were you doing now? Probably sleeping but did you also think about your upcoming date. Where you as impatient as him or you were just patiently waiting? Maybe he never even crossed your mind and he wouldn’t be surprised. After all you just saw it as a favor. But for him it was so much more. You were trusting him that he knew what he was doing, even putting hope onto his knowledge.

Without noticing he was already at the end of the park and enough time had passed for him to go home. With sorrowful steps he made his way to his trailer. He always dreaded coming there, but he didn’t have any choice. From the front door he could hear his father’s snoring so at least he didn’t need to worry about that. Going into his room he flopped onto his bed and hugged his pillow. But oh how much he wanted you to be the one there with him. To run your fingers through his hair and place a kiss on top his head. With this dream in mind he fell asleep. It wasn’t surprising when his dream was exactly the thing he wanted the most – you.

``````````````````

Saturday at 10 am the sound of the doorbell ringing made you run to open the door. You still didn’t have all the things you needed ready but didn’t want your mom opening the door and embarrassing you again, like the last time. Outside your front door stood Daryl with a little smile upon his face. “Hi, Daryl! Do you want to come in? I just need a minute.” You asked and opened the door more for him. “Yea, sure.” Answered Daryl and came inside. While walking beside you your hands accidentally brushed and goosebumps appeared along his skin. Every time your skin touched his he went all red in the face and this time it was no different. While ducking his head so you don’t see the crimson red painting his cheeks you made sure your mom is not around. Thank god she wasn’t, though it only seemed this way.

From the countertop in the kitchen your mom had a perfect view of the front door but you couldn’t see her. And she didn’t miss the way your eyes happened to brighten a bit at the sight of Daryl on your front step. And the way his face would color red almost immediately also wasn’t lost on her. Even though to here both of your feelings were obvious id didn’t seem like the two of you knew. But wasn’t it like this always?

Your house wasn’t that unfamiliar to Daryl now so he was able to relax a bit. The living room looked exactly like the last time he was here. Glancing at you he saw that you were already looking at him. Both of you blushed and looked away with little smiles on your faces. “So… I need only a few things from my room and I will be back. Would you mind waiting for a bit?” You questioned and waited for him to respond. “No, I will be good. I’ll wait here.” He said and looked around again. “Okay then. Make yourself comfortable.” You said and went upstairs, leaving Daryl alone. Going upstairs you grabbed a few books for science and the few snacks you prepared for today. Checking yourself in the mirror for the last time you went down happy with the way you looked.

In the living room you stooped dead in your tracks at the view before your eyes. Your mother was sat next to Daryl on the couch. She was smiling and it looked like she had just asked Daryl a question if you could guess from her expecting gaze. Daryl on the other hand looked like he wants to be anywhere but here. And your thoughts would be right, because Daryl regretted ever saying he wanted to come inside. He should have waited outside. Your mom came into the room just as you disappeared up the stairs, almost like she was waiting for you to leave. She greeted him and immediately started asking questions about him. He was so overwhelmed with that dose of attention that the most he could answer was a simple “yes” or “no”. Your mom didn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable he was so she carried on with her questions about how he was at school and other nonsense. Unfortunately, she didn’t skip the questions about his family but at that moment you came to his rescue.

“I’m ready. Are we going?” You urged looking at Daryl with raised eyebrows and a little smirk upon your mouth. “Yea, let’s go. Nice meetin’ you, ma’am.” Daryl said and got up. Your mom only offered a smile and said a goodbye as well. Finally, outside you questioned where you were going. Instead of answering you Daryl only glanced at you nervously and muttered a “You will see.”. Now that he was finally getting close to the woods he got more and more anxious. How would you react to him leading you into the woods? What if you found the little surprise he made for you ridiculous? But he didn’t let these thoughts win over the joy of being around you. The time you were walking there was mostly silence but it didn’t seem awkward or uncomfortable. It was the exact opposite, a comfortable one and he didn’t feel the need to say something.

After about a 10 minute walk you were at the edge of the forest. He looked at you, expecting to see you looking around and confused but instead you were looking at him curiously. There was not a single sign of worry or confuse. “There is a little creek about 5 minutes from here. Thought you would like it.” He spoke first and waited for your reaction. “Lead the way then.” You said and waited for him to continue walking. Daryl’s nerves calmed down after your calm response. To be honest he didn’t think someone would be that calm around him, let alone you. After all you didn’t really know anything about him. And after a bit of thinking Daryl realized that he didn’t really know anything about you either other than the basic stuff like family and friends. Today was an opportunity to get to know you and he should use it.

The forest both of you were in was beautiful, full of sounds and light. The birds chirping and the rustling of the leaves was like music to your ears. The last time you were in a forest was maybe 2 years ago when you and your family went on a camping trip to a nearby national park. Thinking of it reminded you of how nice it was. You never thought that you could miss the forest but here you were. And looking at Daryl you noticed how relax he looked, no tension visible in his muscles. That was maybe the only time you have ever seen him so at peace. He looked at you with the corner of his eye and you turned your gaze away, not realizing that you were staring but you couldn’t help it. You were seeing new side of Daryl unfold in front of your eyes.

Daryl could already hear the sound of the water running ahead of him. His body wasn’t as tense as it was at your house, the forest having its calming effect on him. Now his mind was worked up if the thing he went earlier to set up was going to be too much. He wanted to make something special for you and hopped you wouldn’t find it stupid. Walking on a bit of narrow path covered in dry leaves somewhere you heard a Woodpecker pecking. Looking around the trees trying to find it you didn’t saw a tree root poking through the forest floor. Tripping on it you were too stunned to reach out your arms to stop your fall. Preparing yourself for the pain bout to come you braced yourself and closed your eyes but no pain came. Opening your eyes, you saw Daryl holding you to his chest, his face having an almost terrified expression on it. Your faces were so close that you could feel his breath mixing with yours. Looking at his lips you wondered what would be the feeling of them pressed against your own. Looking back at Daryl’s eyes you saw a new emotion in them but you couldn’t understand what it was.

Daryl caught you out of pure instinct, not thinking how close your bodies would be. But when you opened your eyes and looked into his eyes with this look of gratefulness his heart started pounding like a jackhammer inside his ribcage. And when you looked at his lips he sneaked a glance at yours. How full the seemed to be and the urge to feel them against his own was almost irresistible. Almost. But what if you didn’t want this and pushed him away from you. Called him a creep and ran away. He couldn’t risk it so he settled with looking at his feet and letting you go, the absence of your body and its warmth against it painfully obvious to him.

“Ya ok?” he asked this time looking at your face, scanning it for any sign of pain. You only shook your head, still a little bit shaken up from being so close to him. “I’m good, don’t worry. Are we close?” Turning to the direction the two of you were walking in you stepped over the root and turned to Daryl. “Uhm…yea. Jus’ a bit more.” With that you started walking again, this time looking where you were going. After just a minute of walking you saw the light reflecting from the surface of the water. In front of you was a creek surrounded by tall trees, the branches of the trees making a colorful shade over it. And then you saw the rest. At the sight of the blanket and the food scattered on it you halted immediately. There were different kinds of food and 2 sodas atop it.

“Hope ya like it. I’ve never really did somethin’ like tha’.” His nervous words made you turn to him, seeing his cheeks painted bright red. He was shuffling from foot to foot and looking down. “Oh, Daryl, you did all this? For me?” One look into his eyes told him that you did in fact like it. “Of cours’ fer ya.” He said with a bashful smile and sat on the blanket, making a gesture with his hand for you to do the same. Plopping down next to him you continued looking around, enjoying the sight before your eyes. Daryl was doing the same thing, his gaze pinned on you. He was finally starting to believe that this was actually happening, you with him at the only place he knew how to relax. You probably weren’t feeling the same way as him but for now he would allow himself to daydream you do.

Turning back to him you pulled out a notebook and stared at him expectantly. He seemed like he forgot what the two of you were meeting up to do. Snapping out of his daydreams he pulled out his book and started to actually work. But every now and then you would take small breaks and would snack on the things he prepared and chat for everyday stuff. Daryl never thought talking with someone can be this easy, not awkward or pointless small talk. And you would ask so many questions, trying to learn the things that he liked. Asking what was his favorite ice cream - chocolate or about his favorite color – green. And he would always return the question absorbing the information like a sponge tossed into water. The knowledge wasn’t something really deep but it was the things that made you who you were.

By the late afternoon you finally understood Science. Turns out Daryl can be an amazing teacher, patiently explaining everything that you didn’t understand. And he now knew enough stuff about you that he felt like he has always known you. When the sun looked like was about to set you picked up your things and Daryl cleaned up, getting the blanked in one hand. Starting to walk back to your house the whole way you were talking and laughing. If someone saw you they would think that both of you were longtime friends, just going for a walk. Gradually in no time you here in front of your front door and you were turning to say goodbye to Daryl. But he was already looking at you, a seemingly sad expression onto his face. He didn’t want this to end, talking and learning new things about you.

“I had an amazing time with you. If you want to maybe, we should do it again.” The enthusiastic tone of your voice making him feel like someone lit a fire inside him, the warmth spreading to very crevice of his body. “I would love ta.” The smile on top his face was genuine and before he knew what was happening you were leaning in and placing a kiss on his cheek. His body was completely straightened up and the look on his face being like to someone just stricken up by thunder.

“Bye, Daryl. I will see you Monday.” Turning around and going inside your house you left Daryl on your porch wondering if he will ever get used to these.

Masterlist: @marvelcasey05 @zomb133g1rl @ryoujoking @starkeysslvt @appearancesaredeceiving4lice @that-german-girrl @tobemylover-x

#twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #twd #daryl dixon fanfiction

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tuiccim · 12 hours

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Lost in the Dark (Part 3)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Dark content! Somnophilia, Non/DubCon, and other dark elements. This fic contains dark themes and may include potentially triggering topics. You are solely responsible for your media consumption.

Summary: Bucky comes home after a mission and can’t wait to be with you.

A/N: Special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression. You had been through each of these stages of grief multiple times in varying orders. Facing away from Bucky on the edge of the bed, you went over the last few months in your head. Nothing you did fazed him. He remained steadfast, calm, and loving. There was only one stage left, acceptance. Your last resort was to accept your fate and try to gain his trust. Maybe you could escape before Stockholm Syndrome took hold. If you could convince him to trust you maybe there would come a moment when you could slip away.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, you turn over in the bed and cuddle up to his side. His arm instantly went around you. Laying your head on his shoulder, your hand resting on his chest, you forced yourself to relax.

"Are you cold?" Bucky whispers. You can feel the tension in him at your unexpected touch.

"No, I'm just..." you were about to say you just wanted to be near him but it was a lie and he'd know. So, you told him the truth, at least in part, "I'm trying, Bucky. This is hard. It's not what I thought my life would be."

"I know, doll. I just can't lose you. I need to know you're here and safe," Bucky says as he kisses the top of your head.

"I understand," you whisper. You didn't, you didn't at all. You had been his from the first time he'd asked you out. You were head over heels for him, then. That life, that world seemed like a distant dream. The longer you were with him, the more you felt disconnected. You supposed that's what wore people in your situation down, what made them succumb to acceptance of this reality. Tears leaked from your eyes despite fighting to hold them in. You just wanted to go home.

"It's okay, doll. Don't cry. I'm gonna keep you safe," Bucky says as he gently wipes away a tear.

"Was I not safe before?" Your voice is strained.

"No one around me is safe. I'm sorry I put you in danger but I love you. I had to be with you and so now I have to protect you. I'm sorry I was so selfish. I need you. I love you so much, doll. I'll make you happy, I will. You just have to trust me. Can you try? Just try for me, doll?" Bucky says earnestly.

You pause for a moment, thinking through your next move, "I'll try if you'll make me one promise. I need you to promise not to drug me again. I don't like it. It scares me."

Bucky thinks for a moment before tipping your chin up to look him in the eyes, "I promise.”

“Really?” You look into his eyes searchingly.

“I promise, doll,” he whispers earnestly.

As you look at him, you remember the man you had fallen for before all of this. His beautiful blue eyes seem to beg for you to believe him. Slowly, you inch your face closer to his. He holds his breath as he studies you, hope blooming in his chest. He fought the urge to pull you to him, letting you take the lead was important in this moment. Not daring to move a muscle, he watches enraptured as you bring you close the distance. Your eyes glance down at his mouth and then your lips press to his. You give him one small kiss before pulling back to look in his eyes again.

Bucky stares back at you, lips slightly parted, eyes full of awe, hoping, praying you’d kiss him again. It had been so long since you had kissed him back, since you’d even looked him in the eyes. He was desperate for your touch.

You were just desperate. So you kissed him again, this time twining your tongue with his. He still gave you the lead, his participation passive, and so you rolled on top of him. Bucky’s hands flexed, wanting to reach out for you, but he gripped the sheets under him to stop himself. His heart was beating hard and he felt light-headed. His cock was incredibly hard just from being gifted your touch. He wanted to roll you under him and bury it in your sweet heat but he stayed still, allowing you to be in control.

When he felt your feather-light touch on his cock, he shuddered. He couldn’t believe this was real. Had you finally come back to him? Did you finally understand that he was just trying to keep you safe? His mind didn’t have long to consider these questions as you straddled him. Positioning his cock at your entrance, you slowly sink down on him. It was the first time in months that you had felt some modicum of enjoyment during sex, that you were choosing it of your own free will. You feel him trembling beneath you and you break your kiss to ask, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, please don’t stop.” His voice sounds almost panicked.

“Don’t stop this?” You tease, sitting up and flexing your hips.

“Don’t, don’t stop,” he whimpers with his head thrown back.

Bucky is in absolute ecstasy. His cock twitches inside of you with each movement you make. His metal arm whirs as he clenches and unclenches his fists, nearly ripping the sheets. You realize what he’s doing. He’s giving you the power in this. It tugs at your heart a little. He really does care for you. Haltingly, you whisper, “B-Bucky, you can touch me.”

You expected him to grab you, to take over and do with you as he pleased as he had always done. Instead, he looks up at you with love and a hint of apprehension. Slowly, he sits up, staring into your eyes and gently puts his arms around your waist. He presses your bodies together softly and buries his face in your neck. You wrap your arms around him in response and make slow circles with your hips. You stay like that for a long time, just holding each other and enjoying the gentle movement of your bodies. You begin to tremble and clench around his cock as you come, milking him of his orgasm. Still, you stayed wrapped in each other.

“I thought I’d never feel you like this again, doll,” Bucky whispers against your skin. “I love you so much. I’ll never let you go, I promise. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you murmur in his ear. You stare at the chain that still connects you to the bed. The next step was convincing him to let you off your leash. To do that, you’d tell him anything, even that you love him.

Part 4?

Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made on Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

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loneliestluvr · 13 hours

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𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 — 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 2

part 1. part 2.

pairing: eris vanserra x archeron oc

synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

warnings: should have added this in the last one but talking/thinking about loss of pregnancy, being controlled + used, angst, lots of description but Blair gets her lick back a bit 😛 this is also a bit of a slow burn

word count: 2.8k

taryn thinks: so this is gonna be a series and im just kinda holding its hand and letting it guide me rn, i have no planned ending at all or any idea where this is going. bear with me pookies and remember how attracted Feyre was to Rhys without knowing he was her mate please and thank you 🙏🏼

“Eris,” Rhysand’s voice boomed in that firm High Lord tone he only ever used outside of the River House— Blair had only ever heard it once and not ever directed at her. It was that same day and argument Nesta had told Feyre about the threat to her life, to the babe’s life in her womb, when Rhys’ power had exploded and grew so loud and angry Blair had covered her ears and closed her eyes.

Eris. The name rung in her head as her brother-in-law spoke it and her mouth moved before she could think as she tested it silently on her own tongue. Eris.

The second eldest Archeron still hadn’t brought herself to tear her gaze from the male—Eris—before her, taking in every inch of his face. Every muscle ticking in his jaw. Eris’s eyes followed her mouth as she traced his name with her lips and then he finally looked away. As if he couldn’t handle looking another minute.

“This is Feyre’s second oldest sister, Blair.” Rhys continued, and something like panic lit his every word. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

But it was almost muffled— the sound of his voice, the music and chatter behind them. Blair’s hands still neatly folded in front of her as she stood there, like there was nothing else in that marble room but her and Eris.

“Divine.” The red haired male murmured and by the way Rhys’ brows shot up just slightly, Blair figured the male wasn’t ever one for so little words.

The sound of his voice washed through her, the heat of her skin only intensifying as it echoed through her ears. She could hear her blood thrumming through her with it, like just this nearness had her body boiling. A sense she couldn’t describe pulling to him.

“Likewise.” The word was out before she could control it, like her inhibitions overtook all.

What is it that you feel, bright one? A cold, unnatural, and otherworldly voice spoke in her head. The same as always when the smoke cleared. Feminine, if Blair could tell— speaking to her as she was sucked back out of her body and it swallowed whatever words were working up her throat. Pulled right back into that unintentional irreverence. You do feel it, I can tell. Pushing me back, for this? For him— for what lurks under?

“I’m sorry for my tardiness,” Blair said, voice vacant. It was some part of their plan, but Blair had been instructed to follow along. Some quiet tucked away part of her, far in the forest of her mind, began to piece information together.

Things she’d learned simply by sitting and listening, and nobody cared about talking in front of the mute immortal who would sooner die than participate in politics or anything relating to the fae realm.

At least that’s what she thought of herself, nobody would say it. Even if that’s what she knew they were thinking. Even if it wasn’t entirely true.

Blair listened, mindlessly and absently, but what else was she to do when she sat in the quiet of her own mind day after day under something else’s control?

She tilled the soil of her mind, planting and working and tending as she sat and listened. Took in every piece of information that seemed so little to whatever she had become after, tucking it away and into her pocket.

But she never participated, couldn’t seem to ever make her mouth move. Could only sit and look out the window as everyone moved around her.

“Nonsense, sister.” Feyre smiled lovingly, the image of a shining star with the way her barely there gown accentuated her growing belly. “You’ve come just in time.”

As if on cue, a soft melodic music that sounded like the forest’s calm embrace started playing. Forest’s that Feyre and her had frequented in the summers when the younger of them was just hitting maturity, welcoming and lovely. Soft and slow, serene. A moment of peace in a world of pain and anger.

Blair took another breath and turned her head to the dance floor, it was her again this time as she spoke so softly it was almost unheard, “I love this type of music.”

“You’d like to know, Eris, that Blair is of the same talent our dear sister Nesta possesses. One that you seem so keen on having her hand in marriage because of.” Feyre says, but Blair’s eyes remain glued to the floor of people dancing so slowly. Seamless in their waltzing, her body almost began moving by itself— fighting every muscle in her to stay present in conversation as she slowed back into her body.

A rage filling some now faraway part of her, screaming and clawing and fighting to push her back again.

But this moment, this day, had been the most lucid she had felt in over a year— like she was waking up and blinking the fog away. Blair could hear clearly, and think, she could see from her own eyes, she was herself then. She was her own.

The reveal of another Archeron sister was not something that Eris had anticipated for. Certainly not something he’d prepared for, he had never let himself become so raw in front of anyone, let alone those of the Night Court.

One look at her… one gaze into those amber flecked eyes and his entire mask had shattered. For a minute too long he had just… stared at her.

Blair. The name danced around in his head, he could see it scripted on pages with a light hand. Those delicate fingers dragging the quill into a mess of curls and lines, her beautiful name printed in his mind. Blair.

“I’m almost certain at this point only beauty comes of your family, if Nesta was that graceful on the floor I can only imagine any of her sisters being equally as talented.” He said without another second, gaze now fixed wholly on the High Lady of the Night Court despite the pounding of his heart in his ears.

“Nesta continues to be… occupied.” Feyre added, almost ignoring any of his ploying compliments and Eris didn’t miss the whites of Rhysand’s knuckles showing as he clutched the arms of his throne.

And it was true, the Illyrian brute that had swept away his hopeful bride had passed her to the aggravating shadowsinger. Eris would not get her back again, not tonight.

“Perhaps my sister Blair would like to join you in a dance or two?” Feyre said next, the question directed for the female next to him.

Something in his chest felt like it would cave in and Eris thought he could have been floating just being next to her. The soft brown of her hair that went almost to her waist, even with it half up in a mound on the back of her head.

Accentuating those beautiful features under the light, lips pronounced and eyes that guttered all the need for dominance from his soul. His mind screamed: Kneel, kneel before your queen and beg to touch her. To smell and taste and feel, to know.

“Blair?” Feyre’s voice rang through his ears again and Blair had seemed like she was so enamored by the music, by the need to be with it, she hadn’t heard the question her sister asked. Then her head turned back to the thrones on the dais.

“I’m sorry,” She said quickly, furrowing her brow slightly as she tuned back in. “—what was it?”

“Perhaps you would like to join Eris for a dance?” Feyre clarified again and she looked from her sister to him, nearly next to Eris and stared for a moment.

“It’d be my honor to dance with the son of a High Lord.” She said, a small smile blooming on her lips.

By the confusion that seemed to broadcast on the High Lord and Lady’s face, Eris figured that Blair Archeron had secrets of her own. That just maybe, like him, she was undermined and looked over in aspects she shouldn’t be.

Eris stepped closer and offered his arm almost mindlessly, eyes tracing every curve of this smart and quick creature’s face. And Blair took it as that song faded out and the crowd prepared for the next one, the cold of her fingers seeped through the fabric of his tunic sleeve. Icy and bitter despite the warmth that flourished on her cheeks, and she let Eris guide her to the floor.

Blair could breathe. She could feel the race of her pulse, however immortal, she could feel the air on her skin and the warmth beneath Eris’s sleeve as she touched him. It felt like her body was on fire— awake.

Eris Vanserra— High Lord of the Autumn Courts eldest son, she had remembered. It had been like a splash of warm water, it had felt good. Different.

Rhys and Feyre’s ramblings about him, about their trades and need to stand against his father. Their effort to sway him should war find Prythian again, Azriel’s updates as she sat in the living room. Absent.

But that fog had cleared, and here she was. Preparing to dance with him. And everything came back screaming.

It was quiet as they prepared for the song to begin, Nesta and Azriel on the other end of the marble floor.

And then the music began and Eris arm wrapped around Blair until his hand laid on the small of her back, fingers of one hand each entwined as they stared into each others eyes.

It wasn’t that Blair couldn’t think or feel it, but her body moved absently off of memory alone as the dance began. Graceful and smooth, gliding as Eris guided her through the movements.

Spinning and twirling and whirling, she could only look at him as they moved. They did not speak, just danced and eyed each other.

Something charged went through the air between them, the close proximity of their bodies, and Blair wanted to know it as equally as Eris. Wanted to welcome it.

He smelled of spruce and warm honey, mahogany and citrus, flames and burning coals. Blair swallowed it down, drank it in and almost closed her eyes from how strong it was.

The pads of his fingers were rough, felt scarred as they held the small of her back and her own soft fingers. The freckles on his skin were similar to hers but brighter, a hue of ginger rather than her umber shaded spots.

And where he touched, across her waist and now one of her hips, burned.

The feeling like a fire, warm and welcoming and home, spilling into her veins like hot oil. And then Eris was dipping her, their faces a mere inch apart and Blair’s lips parted in a breathy gasp.

His eyes watching those perfect lips, trained on them as they stood like that. Dipped over and under one another, Blair’s leg hooked over his hip like she would fall.

But something in those pointed eyes, cunning and lethal, told her he would never let her go.

“Where have they kept you?” Eris asked finally, and brought her back up to a stand as they began again.

“A female is nothing to be kept.” Blair responded as easily as their dancing continued. Reminding herself of the proper terms fae used. “I have heard of how backwards Autumn can be, though. Perhaps that is your way of thinking?”

“You were not there for the war.” It was not the statement he made it, a rephrase of his first question. And he did not scold her for the jab she shouldn’t have made, supposed to be swaying and wooing but instead bit at him like a ravenous dog. “Nobody talked of a fourth sister.”

“I hadn’t realized I owed my life to the Court’s of Prythian or it’s people.” His hands left her body and trailed to the tips of her fingers as she spun out and when she returned his hold was firmer but he smiled, wicked and beautiful. “What?”

That look in his eyes, she couldn’t place it. And her voice held more venom than she intended, despite how soft and sweet it may have sounded aloud.

“You intrigue me, Blair Archeron.” He said and pushed her out again, her dress spinning out at the bottom as she twirled and came back to him. Pressed against his chest, one hand on the back of his neck and he might have shivered. “Trust the most beautiful of your sisters to be the smartest.”

“We’ve shared mere words, what are you basing my intelligence off of?”

“A feeling.”

“A feeling?” She repeated. He nodded and then she was keenly aware of where his hands were, trailing to the base of her own neck— close enough to be courting. More than that.

“Tell me,” Eris started, beginning a box step procedural that she followed. “—have they tucked you away out of fear of what you could become, or fear of what they could lose?”

“Who’s to say I’m not the one who chooses to stay away?” Eris’s eyes glittered with a need to know, like he wanted into her mind to see all of that intrinsic astuteness shrouded by firs and spruce. “Who’s to say I wanted to be a part of this life at all?”

“I offered to give them armies in exchange for your sisters hand and they bring you in.” He states as the song comes to an end and another starts. A rapid tempo, fast and harsh. Mostly string instruments, dramatic. “Why?”

“I was late,” Blair corrects, one hand holding the back of his neck as the other is gripped in his. Larger, muscled, and firmer than Blair’s delicate, soft, and teasing hand. “—you must be a terrible listener.”

Amusement lit Eris’s eyes as he held an arm around her waist, fingers brushing her ribs.

“Did they keep you away because of your mouth, then?” He crooned, their bodies moving seamlessly to the upbeat music. Stepping and spinning all at once, matched with the other pairs of dancers on the floor.

“What of my mouth?”

“What of it, indeed.” He smiled, eyes flicking to the rich ridges of her garnet colored lips. Blair’s cheeks heated and for the first time her eyes flicked away from his face. Anywhere but him as they landed on Azriel and she almost breathed in relief when she found that his eyes were already on hers.

A silent question in them and Blair blinked softly in response.

“Would you believe me if I said the second I saw you, I forgot about Nesta completely?” Eris whispered into her ear, lips brushing against the hair that curled there. So close she could feel the heat of his breath, like a flame licking her skin.

She cursed the part of her that wanted to feel that heat in other places and shoved it down. She looked back to Eris, noses nearly touching with the proximity this dance required.

“And what if I am already spoken for?”

Questions, so many questions with him. And Blair just fed them back as if the answers were in the questions themselves, a proper response unneeded.

“Are you?” His brows raised.

“No.”

It was simple, nothing further needed and she didn’t understand why she cared to tell a male she had met mere minutes ago that she was available. The first other than Rhys, Lucien, Azriel, Cassian and the blonde male she had set her eyes on since coming here. Since being forced here.

“They must do it to you all then.” Eris said, smile fading into a tighter one as he saw that look in Blair’s eyes. “Dwindle your flame, drown it out, waste you.”

“My sister and her mate have been gracious to me in my… adjustment. I have nothing to complain about, and certainly nothing to waste.”

Eris shook his head so barely as they spun Blair almost didn’t catch it, disbelief in every beautiful crook of his utterly handsome face.

“All of you is wasted, my dear Blair. They are blind if they cannot see what lives inside of you, your fire, whatever that power is and whatever you are now.”

Perhaps it was because Blair didn’t even know what was inside of her, why her chest warmed on its own for the first time in over a year just now, but she didn’t say another word.

When the music ended, she bowed before Eris as any graceful courtier would— a dismissal on her part before she stepped back and allowed for him to bow in return.

But he did not, and only stared at her as if he couldn’t—wouldn’t—bring himself to say goodbye. We are not done playing, Blair Archeron, was what his eyes added as Azriel swept her from the floor and the room all together.

His eyes followed her the whole way and that cold returned as soon as she left his line of sight.

🏷️: @prythianpages @impossibelle @readychilledwine

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oatbugs · 4 months

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Jack Marsh (2005), Friendship Otherwise - Toward a Levinasian Description of Personal Friendship

#saw carnation lily lily rose by john singer seargent irl today. it was basically at my doorstep all along idk why i never went to see it #it was placed at a corner in the gallery. me and my friend sat down and sketched the paintings of beautiful naked people quite badly. paper #provided by tate britain. she told me about how she couldnt look her boyfriend in the face after a harrowing film about war. when i say the #interview was informal i mean the person who was supposed to be my boss told me let me get you a cider and then he said after #50 years of life he knows people are inherently good and it only takes a little bit of kindness to save this world. he said he tricked #his wife into keeping the baby and then he said he quit his job at a US bank to help people find meaning and in it #he would have liked to find meaning. instead he started climbing with his friends. he said he chews his cigarettes because its a habit from #when he had to hide things from people. the entire time i felt uncomfortable and incredibly enlightened. this is my friends mentor. she has #his pattern of pauses and expletive and penchant for ends-justify-means attitude. i do think im not very clever #but maybe one day i will love you enough to make up for it. i wrote code i dont understand staring at the final error i thought about how #we both thought of how when we're too old to remember the voices of our friends we would like to stand in the pathway of the LHC beam pipe #cut it open and eat light in the freezing cold vacuum (kills you long before radiation will) the invisible puncture wound unfolding dna #back to the start larger than you ever were. you go to heaven once youve been to hell. my friend is in my bed #practicing calculations of eigenvectors by hand and she is uninterested in a visual proof you are uninterested in incompetence #we catch a train this is your kind of burden you tragic hero wincing at that word you only do this because you have to. im the only one #who can. i am a coward in this for the fucking poetry. the visual proofs. the pretty numbers. an architect who was horrible at maths wanted #to be a philosopher and accidentally ended up neck in deep in 70th Error On Visual Studio Code i want to kiss your eyes before we say #goodbye we both know there is no love in the way there should be. I still have your dress in my wardrobe. i hope you make art.#you think im alright head-wise i think you fucking hate me i think ill never be so clever you want me to tell you my idea?#if you wanted more of this world i would have liked to kiss you harder. we cant both be like this. im sorry i cant be with you the whole wa #the love is gone if you have to ask it. his breath catches his eyes feel stiff it is -1.9 kelvin he is near the beam pipe i miss holding #his hand i miss her singing voice i miss his hair and i found the antonym of pain thank you for carrying me home.

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daddyplasmius · 7 months

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hand on my stupid heart flashbacks

this is a No One Knows AU & Full Hazmat AU where Danny ended up in the Ghost Zone & didn't go back into the human world initially because he thought he was dead. by the time he realized he is, in fact, at least half alive, he'd already been missing for at least 2 weeks. will probs never finish homsh sorry. i wrote this a couple years ago in a haze & just haven't been able to finish it because i can't replicate the style, which i find is what i love about this fic the most. it wouldn't be the same without it. posting the flashback introsーwhich are meant to be read between chapters/the actual plot, starting after chapter 1ーcuz fuck it. excuse typos & shit, i never properly edited it, as i forgot it existed immediately after i wrote it original description of homsh: Danny Fenton has officially been missing for over a year. Maddie & Jack Fenton refuse to give up on their son. Sick and tired of the police running them in circles, and the case getting colder by the day, the Fentons turn to their last resortーPhantom. 800~ words (full unfinished fic is 20k~)

When Danny woke up surrounded by thick, green fog, and couldn’t breathe without swallowing heavy air that was more like water than anything, he was sure he was dead. The portal glowed behind him, illuminating the pitch darkness around him in soft, yellow, warm light.

He almost went back.

Almost.

He was dead. His parents were ghost hunters. They had drilled into his head from the moment he was born that he could never, ever panic in death. That he would accept it. That he would not be scared. So he would be prepared to be brave in the face of death and would not become a ghost.

He panicked. He did not accept it. He was terrified. And so he woke up in the Ghost Zone.

Danny went back through the portal when he saw some ectopuses acting… strange. Like they had an idea in their heads. Like they had a plan.

Which was weird, with animal ghosts. He had only been in the Ghost Zoneーmom and dad called it that, he rememberedーfor a couple weeks. Or, he had already been there for two weeks. Or maybe time worked differently and he was there five minutes, or four years orー

The ectopuses went through the portal and, despite everything, Danny went after them.

While he was busy reeling at being home, the ectopuses immediately attacked dad. Danny was horrified. Jack was overwhelmed. Danny stepped in, in a moment fueled by sheer adrenaline and stupidity, snatching a Fenton Thermos™ off a shelf and releasing his shaky invisibility. The ectopuses didn’t stand a chance. And when they were safely in the Thermos, he slowly turned around to dad, ready for the confrontation. Ready for the “what happened to you?” and the “where have you been?” and the “we’ve missed you”.

Dad scrambled to shoot at him.

Danny fled.

His parents didn’t recognize him.

The Lunch Lady attacked when Danny was mourning Halloween.

He’d waited all year. He made a costume that summer. He wouldn’t get to go trick or treating with Sam and Tucker this year. Or any year. For the rest of his lifeーor existence. Whatever.

The Lunch Lady appeared in the school and demanded in straight fury, “Who changed the menu?”

Everyone pointed at Sam.

Danny hadn’t known just how powerful ghosts could be. His parents never told him the specifics. Just that they were dangerous.

This ghost grew and her aura hit him like a hurricane, almost physically pushing him back. It was so strong that the students in the Casper High cafeteria seemed to feel it too.

The Lunch Lady was a much harder opponent than the ectopuses. She levitated meat. She used it as a weapon, and seemed to bring it back to life. She created weird meat creatures that grew sharp teeth and claws out of bones. They were mindless, attacking everything that got too close to the ghost. Danny would have run away without hesitation, if Sam hadn’t been in the crossfire.

Danny fought the Lunch Lady. It was a long struggle, but he caught her in the thermos after over an hour. When he turned to Sam and Tuckerーboth of whom he had to save due to Tucker trying to jump into the fightーall three of them bloody and bruised, he cringed. But a part of him hoped. Desperately.

Surely they would know him on sight.

“Wh-what are you?” Sam gasped at him finally.

Danny flinched as if she had struck him. “J-just… your friendly neighbourhood phantom.”

Danny didn’t know what possessed him. Oh. Pun not intended.

He just barely caught the Fentons leaving in the GAV, dragging suitcases behind them. He couldn’t help himself. What on Earth were they doing?

They were going to Vlad Master’s mansion for their college reunion.

It was a whole thing. But something was off. Besides all the adults reminiscing about the 80’s.

Danny sensed ghosts immediately but he couldn’t see anything. Unfortunately for him, Vlad could also sense him. It was two days of Danny staying invisible, and Vladーthe halfa? Is that what Danny is?ーtrying to kill Jack. Somehow, Danny managed to fight off Vlad, not turn back, and without the Fentons getting hurt. His secret intact.

VladーPlasmius, also learned about Phantom. And Vlad hated him. The manーghostーwhatever, seemed to only care about one thingーpossession. Of money. Of things. Of people. He was more ghost than Danny had ever seen. Vlad’s obsession was overwhelming.

Danny couldn’t believe someone so much like himself could be so disturbing.

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #danny phantom fanfiction #you know that gif of the wailing emoji dissolving? :Why:?#yeah that's what i do every time i remember i never finished HOMSH while i still had the style in my brain #feel free to steal this idea. please steal this idea. please write it i wanna see this idea so bad but im already writing another 100k+ fic #if y'all want me to post the full fic i can but. it is not finished & most likely never will be. sorry again #i won't lie. the haze i was in was a depressed one. i was. not in a good place At All when i wrote HOMSH #like the only part i remember actually writing was the panic attack scene & that's just barely #i reread the whole fic in the middle of the night months later while listening to Implode Alright by Built by Snow on repeat #yeah i cried. this one is funny but mostly it's just. mourning. grief. the works. it's a vent fic & also a. kind of. wishful fic #like. don't you just wish death wasn't so permanent. don't you wish you could tell them everything you wish you could #don't you wish you could just see them again #i'm actually writing this into a bigger ventier series currently called Let Grief Do Its Work #cuz i rewatched LUCIDS again recently & remembered what HOMSH was originally about. why i was writing it #i'm not calling it HOMSH cuz. HOMSHie is my baby. it's its own thing & i don't wanna ruin the vibes #reluctantly admitting i call an unfinished fanfic i don't remember writing... HOMSHie baby... in my head #yeah i have a cute nickname for my fic. what of it #it's 5am & i think i'll throw up if i think any more about posting unfinished unedited pieces of a fic so i'm going for it. cowabunga #go into the world. get your 2 notes you beautiful animal #*passes out*

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