#I was never supposed to write fanfiction for this I just wanted the idea out of my head! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

koqabear · 18 days

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hiii this is for the 2k event, i wanted to ask if u write hybrid!au cause yeonjun dressing up as nick wilde has got me feeling a little delusional. if u don’t completely ignore this but if u do, can i request fox yj and maybe bunny reader?

[2K Masterlist]

"Yeonjun is adamant that you’re a pretty, porcelain doll. You’re more than ready to shatter that idea and show him that you’re stronger than he thinks."

fox hybrid! yeonjun x bunny hybrid! reader // wc: 1.9K // genre: hybrid au, pwp. this is just straight filth im sorry. MDNI.

warnings dom!yeonjun, sub!mc, somnophilia (consensual), oral (f rec.) pet names (bunny, good girl), degrading, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, degrading, kitchen sex, manhandling, dacryphilia, begging, scratching, possessiveness, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampies, aftercare kinda, girl idk i literally just dissociated when i wrote this i forget how exhausting this all is!!

Notes: the healthcare system is fucked even in fanfiction, you can’t escape.

Every decision you’ve made throughout your relationship with Yeonjun has led to where you are now:

Face down, ass up, tears in your eyes and words muddled through the drool that spills through your lips.

You’ve told him countless times that you’re not fragile; that the sweet, docile image he has of bunny hybrids is nothing but a sham, and that you can take anything he offers with a confident stride— and though he simply laughed in endearment and shook his head at your claims, you insisted. You insisted throughout all the sugary sweet times he made love to you, during all the moments where you felt his hands hesitate to hold you, as though he was afraid that putting pressure on your body would be enough to make you shatter.

The words were tiring to both his and your ears at some point: the petulant whines asking for more, your pathetic attempts to try and take control and change the pace entirely— Yeonjun’s sharp, narrowed eyes that flickered at you in warning was the harshest thing you received from him— but judging by the shivers that flowed down your spine like water, your fluffy tail twitching in attention, you knew that your body only craved for more and your brain wouldn’t settle down until you got your way.

You could say that he warned you. He really did, technically, sitting you down for a serious talk about something you two never really discussed in detail. You watched with wide, slightly confused eyes as he explained to you that his heat was approaching, and that you definitely shouldn’t be around for it— when you perked up to interrupt, he merely shook his head to shut you down and continue his explanation.

“I usually take medication, but my insurance no longer covers my usual prescription.” he told you, his ginger ears twitching in annoyance from the mere memory, “I’m taking a leave from work for it, and… I want to spend this time alone.”

“It gets intense… I don’t want to hurt you.”

A bruised ego and terribly confrontational personality was truly a god awful combination. Though you suppose it helped you for the better, considering that after a good argument with your ever-so loving and doting boyfriend, he finally gave up.

You can remember the sight so vividly; his ruffled hair, the fluffy tail that whipped from side to side as he finally slumped back against the couch, out of breath and exhausted— his ears pinned against his head in defeat the moment he took a good look at you, in all your still fired up and energetic glory.

He knew it was a losing battle the moment you cocked a challenging brow at him, as though begging for him to continue.

The word okay has never sounded better from your boyfriend's mouth.

••••

That all leads you back to today. It’s been— oh, you really can’t remember. A day? Maybe two? You don’t think it matters at this point, since the only thing that fills your mind now is the feeling of being full, stuffed, and warm.

Yeonjun gave you a chance to back out the second he opened the door for you. He spoke to you calmly, softly, nervously, watching you hop around his living room and throw your overnight bag on his couch, overjoyed to be taking such a monumental step forward in your relationship. You dismissed every slow, anxious sway of his tail as you ate dinner together, listening intently as he told you about how he’s gotten with his previous partners.

It was too much for many of them. He gets aggressive. He gets insanely needy, it goes on for hours, even throughout the night.

You prayed that he didn’t notice the pathetic clench of your thighs and slight arousal as he told you about his details, nodding sweetly when he asked if you were okay with doing the things he mentioned.

You established a safeword, coddled him the moment you noticed his temperature beginning to rise, and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead as you murmured your goodnights.

About six hours passed when you first felt it; you’ve always been a light sleeper, so you were doomed the second your sensitive ears picked up on the sound of restless rustling behind you. You tried your best to ignore it, your drowsy mind eager to go back to sleep, but the white noise of sheets moving around was quickly accompanied by something else— breathy, desperate gasps.

“Bunny…” Yeonjun’s raspy whine was enough to have your ear twitching slightly; more rustling, and suddenly, a scorching heat hovers behind you. “Bunny, need… need you s’bad…”

His hands are heavy on your skin, almost scorching with the way he restlessly makes his way up your shirt, groping at your tits before they slide down your stomach, feeling you up all the way down before they stop at your thighs— without warning, he presses flat against you, a hand snaking beneath your body to wrap around your stomach and pull you flush into him. He was so hard, so needy that the very feeling of your soft ass pressing against him was enough to rip out a broken sob from him.

“Let me fuck you,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, words that slurred together showing that he was also half-awake, probably not too aware of his actions and the way he rutted into you helplessly, “C’mon bunny, lemme use you.”

Your ass that pressed back into him and the sleepy whine that left you was enough for him.

You can only remember drifting in and out of consciousness that night; the sloppy, wet sounds of skin against skin and desperate grunts was nothing but white noise to you at that point— Yeonjun was glued to you for hours on end, fat cock thrusting harshly into your poor, abused cunt, filled with so much cum that it could only smear onto your inner thighs and his balls, leaving a mess you wouldn’t be able to clean anytime soon.

When you woke up, you were on your back— your pussy was sore and a whine bubbled up uncontrollably from your throat, hips canting up and against Yeonjun’s face— your hands were shaky as you fisted the sheets, tears pricking your eyes as you listened to Yeonjun’s sweet nothings against your skin, leaving bites and kisses against your thighs as he promised you that he’d be quick, that he just needed to eat your sweet cunt— you’d get cleaned up nicely after.

Yeonjun was a liar, of course— because none of his sweet promises included his burning desire to fuck you after you came, cleaning you up only to push his cock back in and fuck you right into the mattress; legs pressed against your stomach, wails leaving you as he plunged into you with abandon, frantic hands scratching down his back as you cried from the overstimulation— it only ended with him pressing deeply into you and emptying yet another load into your tired cunt.

The semblance of normalcy that followed after didn’t last very long, either— yeah, getting carried to the shower and having him clean you up and scrub you down was nice, and sitting at the counter as you watched him make a quick breakfast was nice too, a heartwarming glimpse into a domestic future with him— but you were only able to get halfway through your meal before Yeonjun decided that he’d much rather bend you over the kitchen counter and have you there instead— moaning wantonly as he watched your trembling legs fail to keep up, buckling under his pace and forcing him to hold you up with his insane strength— and just when you thought he was getting tired, he simply flipped you on your back and laid you on the counter instead; he always did think you looked really pretty when you were totally fucked out, anyway.

Maybe that’s when hours started blending together— he was sweet and caring when he needed to be, cleaning you up with a feather-like touch and kisses that warmed your heart— only to give you the whiplash of the century when his pupils dilated and the only thing he honed in on was you.

You. You you you.

His ears would press against his head and his tail would flicker dangerously, narrowed, focused eyes meeting your bleary ones with ease; you could only sit there and let him maneuver you however he liked, shivering and falling limp with each time he’d slide his cock into you, as though you finally felt complete.

You looked so breathtaking to him— under him, over him, whatever position he suddenly found himself needing you in— teary eyes and swollen lips calling his name like a mantra, a prayer, a plea for him to use your body until he got his fill.

There was something so addicting about the way you trembled from the overstimulation, sobbing and writhing yet never saying your safe word. It had Yeonjun fascinated, the guilty part of his mind berating him for trying to see how far he could take things— yet, no matter what he did or what he said, you only seemed to beg for more, like you’d been waiting for this moment for ages.

“Take it, T-take it like a good toy,” Yeonjun hissed, fingers digging into your hips as his cock battered into you ruthlessly. You merely cried and moaned, cotton tail wiggling with every drag against your walls, the soft fur coated with dried cum, “said you could handle it, right? Stupid fucking bunny— nothing but a cumdump for me, hmm?”

Your squeals and chants of yes! Yes yes yes! only spur Yeonjun on even more— his body feels as though it’s on fire, bright hair sticking to his sweaty skin as he merely pushes himself further— you can practically feel his back hover over your own, able to tell that he’s close from his faltering pace and shaky breaths that fan across your skin.

“Want me to breed you?” he asks, though there’s no need to ask anymore if the previous loads he’s dumped into you are any indication of your answer. Yet he still does, almost like instinct; it’s much more satisfying to hear you beg for it, anyway.

And you do— your begging is so cute, how could he ever resist? Yeonjun’s nails might break your skin with how tightly he’s holding you, teeth digging into his pouty lip as he pumps himself into you, once, twice, then empties out everything he has to offer— your back arches and your hips move back to try and glue yourself to him, crying out his name in satisfaction as he fills you for the nth time of the night.

The way you keen out, the sight of your ears that are pinned to your head along with your tail that shivers with satisfaction is like drugs to him; he’s hopelessly addicted to you, to all of you, from your stuffed cunt that continues to suck him in to your soft voice that whimpers out at every sensation you offer him.

Such a good girl, Yeonjun thinks to himself, butterfly kisses spanning along your sweaty skin, your barely conscious form curling into him for more, how did he get so lucky?

Even after he’s given you a moment to rest, laying down with you on top of him, you still cling onto him, sighing in content as you allow him to cockwarm you, already bracing yourself for the moment he feels himself needing you again. And as you both drift into a much needed nap, Yeonjun can only find himself thinking one thing.

Thank god for you and your argumentative nature.

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #yeonjun smut #yeonjun ff #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun oneshot #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun fanfiction #[2k event!]#[nsfw]#[the mic is yours]

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naturesapphic · 1 month

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Hey could you write a fanfiction with Nat x Reader who's very clingy. So one day one of the others Avengers comment Readers behavior and Reader gets very insecure and trys to stop clingyng on Nat.

So basically Fluff/Angst

Hope you like the idea at least a bit

Have a nice day!

Insecurities

Natasha romanoff x clingy!fem!reader

Warnings: some members of the team being mean, angry nat, hurt/comfort, cussing

You have been very distant from Natasha lately and she wonders why. She didn’t say or do anything wrong did she? She hoped she didn’t and even if she did, she would hope that you would come to her so y’all can work through it. Natasha was fixing her a peanut butter sandwhich when you came into the kitchen and saw her. You gave her a small smile and she gave you a bigger one.

“Hey sweetheart. I’ve missed you. Would you like to train with me? I was waiting and hoping you would join me.” She said hopefully and before you could answer snickering was heard which caused you to look behind you. Tony and Steve were standing there looking at you with judge filled eyes that made you uncomfortable. “Oh look! There’s Natasha’s clingy ass girlfriend! I bet she even follows nat to the bathroom to watch her use it!” Tony snickered as Steve laughed loudly, as they didn’t know Natasha was in the same room as them.

Tears filled your eyes as you brushed past your girlfriend and ran off into your room. Natasha felt herself lose it as she rounds the corner and see the two men she considered as friends still laughing but their faces turn pale as they see who’s in front of them. “O-oh hey nat…” Steve squeaked out as he tried to act innocent. Natasha went behind her back and pulled out two of her batons and shoved them against the wall with the deadly weapons against their throat.

“You hurt my girlfriend and made her cry. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.” She said lowly as she looked at them with killer eyes. “I-it was just a joke!” Steve sputtered out as he struggles against Natasha’s hold. “A fucking joke is supposed to be funny. My girlfriend crying and feeling bad about herself is NOT funny you fucking dick heads.” She growled and didn’t appreciate what they said so she turned on her batons which shocked both men.

They got electrocuted by the batons and fell to the floor on their faces which made Natasha smirk. She left them on the floor as they twitch every now and then and went to go after you. She found you in your room sitting on your bed with your head in your hands. She shut the door and immediately sat beside you on your bed and took you into her arms. “No matter what they have said to you, I love when you are clingy to me babygirl.” Natasha reassured you as you nodded your head slowly.

“They keep making comments and making fun of me everytime you aren’t around…they always tell me how clingy and annoying I was and that soon you will see it too and leave me..” you sniffled as Natasha feels her heart break. “Oh dove…I could never hate how clingy you are to me and you never ever annoy me…you never could…” she reassured you and you smiled up at her. “And don’t worry about the boys…I’m plotting their deaths now and they won’t ever be mean to you again. Not as long as you are my girl.” She said with a smile as she kisses you softly on your lips which you immediately recuperated.

No matter what anyone has said or will say. Natasha loves when you are clingy and you will never annoy her for as long as you are alive.

A/n: I hope this is what you wanted anon and I hope you enjoyed it along with everyone else! Requests are still opened for all my characters and remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

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imyourbratzdoll · 10 months

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𝒂 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒓 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏

hello, something I came up with that was initially supposed to be written with chris as the man, but seeing as I no longer write for him, I give a huge thanks to @royalsweetteaa for helping me choose.

summary - sebastian decides to download tumblr and comes across your blog, slowly, he becomes obsessed with you and your work.

warning - smut, obsession, masturbation, oral sex, swearing, slightly dark content.

18+ only please, the gif and header I use aren't mine.

On a cool Saturday night, Sebastian lies in bed, staring at his phone as he looks at the app he has just downloaded. He had heard many things about it, had heard that there was fanfiction written about him on this app. Sebastian didn’t think he would ever download Tumblr, but he was taking a small break from acting, hiding away from the world and thinking, why not. He didn’t know if reading what the fans wrote about him would be creepy or exhilarating.

He thinks for a few seconds as he tries to think of a perfect username. Sebastian lets out a noise as one comes to mind. His fingers move fast as he types ‘nottherealstan’, smiling triumphantly when his account is created, and many things appear on his home screen. He lies there for a while, scrolling through, wondering where these stories would be, not wanting to type his name in, but maybe he has to.

His fingers move to the search bar, typing in his name and fanfiction at the end of it. His eyes widen as he scrolls through, taking his time to read the many stories designed about him. He couldn’t believe his eyes at how people could bring incredible stories to life with just the idea of one person. He continues to scroll until one story catches his eye.��

‘I’m a sucker for you.’ He reads the title, humming as it begins to sound interesting as he reads the summary. He gasps, feeling his cock twitch at how descriptive it starts to get. His hand slowly slides down his body and underneath his trackies.

You knelt on the ground, looking up at the blue-eyed man, feeling yourself throbbing between your legs as you watched him suck on the lollipop that you were previously sucking on. Your lips and tongue are stained a soft pink, and you whimper when Sebastian slowly drags the lolly from his mouth, making a popping sound and placing it into yours. “Suck, bunny. Be a good girl for Daddy.”

Sebastian groans, stroking his cock up and down as he continues to read. His breath picks up. No other story had lived up to this one. He felt needy. He could feel sweat building and pre-cum leaking. He quickly blinked away the fuzziness building before his eyes, needing to read more.

You wrap your lips around the lollipop as Sebastian unbuckles his belt, slowly unzipping his pants. You suck hard on the cherry-flavoured lolly, moaning when your eyes land on his hardened member, drooling at the sight of the pre-cum leaking from his angry tip. “You going to be a good bunny and suck on daddy’s cock?” You nod, opening your mouth wider, allowing him to remove the lollipop, replacing it with his member. You moan, eyes slipping closed when the sweet flavour is mixed with his musky one, immediately becoming your new favourite flavour.

Sebastian moans, squeezing his cock, picking up his pace. Tingles shoot through his body as he realises the thrill of this, imagining an imaginary woman on her knees for him, sucking his cock and worshipping him. No matter his fame, he could never find a woman to act like this for him. Be his little slut, his bunny. “Fuck!” He can’t stop his head from falling back, stroking his cock faster. He needs to stop because he wants to make it to the end of the story. Sebastian squeezes his base, swiping his thumb across his tip and shivering. “C’mon, don’t cum like a damn teenager.” His eyes move back to his phone.

Your head bobs back and forth on his cock, gagging and choking as you take as much of him as you can. Your tiny hands rest on his thighs, moaning as you feel him. Sebastian’s hands fall onto your head, assisting you. His cock twitches, thrusting into your throat, grunting and groaning at the feel of your mouth around his cock. You stare up at him with wide eyes, and your hand moves from his thighs, making its way to his heavy sacks, watching his breath hitch when you cup them. You caress them, softly tugging as you suck and slobber all over his thick member.

Sebastian feels his orgasm quickly approaching, causing him to squeeze his cock and slam his eyes shut. He can’t, and he shouldn’t. This was so wrong but so good. He could imagine himself in the story and desperately wanted to be the man in the story. The story may have been written about who he is, but he was jealous. He wanted someone like Bunny to be here, be with him. Sebastian wanted to see how this would end. He needed to finish the story before he came. It had seemed that this was a series, and he wondered if it could get any more spicier.

You continue to suck his cock, moaning when you feel him twitch in your mouth, filling it with thick spurts of his salty cum. You swallow all his goodness, sucking him dry and licking him clean. Your tongue swirls around his tip before you pull off with a pop. Sebastian strokes your head, smirking down at you with hooded eyes. “Good little bunny. Did so good for Daddy.” You whine, grinding against your foot, pouting up at him and opening your mouth when he grabs the lollipop again. You moan against it, sucking on it while he picks you up. “My bunny deserves a treat.”

Sebastian groans, thick amounts of cum spurting out of his swollen tip and all over his hand and sheets. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and his chest heaves up and down as he tries to catch his breath. “Jesus…” He looks back at his phone, eyes widening. “What?! That was the end!” He looks around, knowing this is a series, but there’s no link for part two. “C’mon… What…” He whines, clicking on the blog, feeling his cock twitch at the username, ‘ahornylittlebunny’.

He scrolls down, checking to see if there is an update, and he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees a post you made that same day. Sebastian imagines how cute you must look when you type these stories out. He reads your words, fascinated.

‘hi, all! I know you’ve all been waiting for part two of I'm a sucker for you, and you’ll be happy to know that I'll be posting it later tonight!’

Sebastian licks his lips, knowing he must be present when you post the story. His fingers move fast, clicking your notifications and turning them on. He needed to see everything you posted. He spent the whole night reading everything you’ve written, smirking at the posts about him, saying if you ever met him, you’d instantly become his little slave. Your eyes widen slightly from the other side, watching your phone blow up with notifications of likes, comments, and reblogs from someone named ‘nottherealstan.’

Sebastian can slowly feel himself becoming obsessed, he doesn’t even know who you are, but he’s intrigued and wants you. His eyes light up when he gets a notification that part two has finally been posted, and he feels his cock harden, already leaking pre-cum. “Fuck, such a good bunny.” He growls, clicking the story and slipping his hand into his pants. He groans as he reads, never having read something so sexual before. The title perfectly describes everything for him. ‘beyond your wildest dreams’.

Sebastian slips between your legs as you sleep, groaning when your legs fall open, exposing your glistening cunt to his hungry gaze. He licks his lips, sliding his hands up and down your thighs, getting closer to the sweetest treasure he’s ever known. “Such a cute little bunny, so soft and sweet.” He nuzzles closer, creeping near your cunt. Sebastian slides his hands to your hips, gripping them and dragging you closer to his face. You whimper in your sleep as his tongue swipes against your folds, drinking your juices in and wrapping his lips around your swollen pearl, sucking it into his mouth. “Taste like a dream, bunny.” He groans into you.

Sebastian moans, gripping his cock and rapidly stroking it. He couldn’t get enough. He needed this to be true. But he didn’t just want anyone. He needed you. Sebastian reached down and began tugging his balls, twisting his wrist as he jerked himself. “Shit, bunny. You feel so good.” He slips his eyes closed, imagining you, a faceless woman wearing a cute little bunny costume, those little bunny ears and that fluffy bunny tail. He opens his eyes and continues to read, needing to finish.

Sebastian pulls you flush against his face as he feasts on your juicy cunt, ravenously sucking on your swollen clit and thrusting his tongue into your tight hole. Your head moves side to side on the pillow, fingers curling into the sheets as Sebastian continues to eat you out like a man starved. You wake with a moan, your back arching as he pulls you even closer to his face, staring at you with those pretty blue eyes. Your toes curl, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your juices squirt out of you and cover his face. “Oh god! Sebastian!!” You pant, sagging into the bed, clutching the pillow as you come down from your high.

Sebastian can’t help it. His toes curl, his balls tighten, cock twitches frantically as rapid amounts of cum spurt out of his mushroom tip, “Fuck! Shit!” He groans as he sinks back into the silk sheets, placing his phone down and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand before he reaches over and cleans himself. Never having cum so hard in his life, no one had ever made him feel like this. He felt like a teenager again, constantly jerking his cock and cumming. Sebastian picked his phone back up, reading the rest of the delicious story, making sure to reblog with the perfect response.

‘Fantastic, just fantastic. I’ve never read something so delicious and captivating in my life, and I won’t lie I couldn’t help but touch myself when reading. This masterpiece made me cum twice. What I would do to make you my perfect little bunny.’ Sebastian smiled, sending it through.

Sebastian plugged his phone in and headed to the bathroom. He gets ready for bed, looking at himself in the mirror, and he can’t stop picturing the perfect little bunny beside him, also getting ready with him. Someone who admires him, worships him, and loves him. He shuts the light off, heads back over to his bed, gets under the blanket, and stares up at the ceiling, slowly blinking. He probably shouldn’t have downloaded Tumblr because now he has become obsessed with you.

As Sebastian slowly falls asleep, he speaks. “Don’t worry, little bunny. I will find you and make you mine, bringing all of your little fantasies alive.” His cock stirs, imagining having you in his arms finally, your wide eyes staring up at him as you realise he’s found out your dirty little secret.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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pinguwrites · 7 months

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Our True Nature | Tom Buckley

Pairing -> dom!tom buckley x student!psychic!reader

Summary -> You're different, you always have been; you've know that ever since you were a little kid who made your toys float in the air. Despite your great abilities you've pursued a rather humble life, looking for others like you. Your search comes to an end when you realize that your professor's assistant, Tom Buckley — the one you've been harboring a secret crush on — is a psychic, just like you.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), dom!Tom and sub!reader, age-gap (not specified, but reader is college-aged), praise kink, slight degradation, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, um superpower play??? telekinesis play??? I don't know what that shit's called, overstimulation, mild breeding kink, tom is wild and says dirty stuff, weird magic lore I made up (you can trust me, I used to write fantasy), mild hamilton reference ig, rough sex but not much emphasis on it

Disclaimer: Red Lights characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

When you first saw him it was like the world around you stopped. The rain that had been pouring down like a storm the entire day ceased its brutal assault, and in that week of dull weather and gray skies, the sun finally peeked out from behind the clouds and cast a heavenly glow around his body.

He looked like an angel. Dark hair caressed by sunlight, eyes as pale blue as a glacier, and the most handsome face you’d ever seen. It was all right there, across the parking lot of the university, just waiting to be seen. A god amongst humans, a flower in a field of grass.

But then the moment passed. He walked away, without any word or acknowledgment, like he never even saw you at all. It wasn’t until later on did you realize who this man was — Tom Buckley, your new professor’s assistant.

You supposed that was when the attraction started. You tried to kid yourself and say that it was actually halfway through the year when he started offering private study sessions, or when he made it a point to greet you good morning every day, or even when he insisted you call him Tom, but you knew the truth. You had fallen for him the second you saw him but were only too ashamed to admit it.

A god amongst humans.

It was a silly phrase you used to describe him. He wasn’t a god. Not even close to one. He was nothing like you. He couldn’t see visions of the future, or make a door open and close at his whim. He was just a person, a person you had a silly, undeniable crush on. A person you could not stop staring at.

He was currently leading the lesson today, showcasing a video on how a fake psychic used tricks behind the scenes to fool her audience, but you weren’t paying attention at all. Your chin was resting in your hand, and your gaze was upon Tom like he was the only thing that mattered.

You could barely see him in the poor lighting. The best you got was a figure and a shadow on the projection, but that didn’t deter you at all. All you wanted was to observe him, the way he moved, the way he talked, the way his hands would gesture as he explained the concepts students didn’t understand.

He seemed to notice your blatant staring, because after the video ended and he turned the lights back on, his eyes locked with yours, and he did what he always did: made you stay behind after class.

“Is something wrong?” you asked. It was a routine question. When the students got up to leave you would approach his desk, feigning confusion, waiting for him to say, ‘No, nothing, I just wanted to look over the assignment with you.’

You were sure your friends thought you were dumb. Why else would you need extra help all the time? but that was a much better assumption than the idea that you were fucking Mr. Buckley, so you never bothered correcting them.

“No, nothing, I just . . . ” Tom started but then trailed off. From this distance, you could properly admire the light freckles scattered across his pale face and took a moment to save the image in your head. When he continued, your attention snapped back. “I have a couple of questions.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Let’s go to my office.” He looked a little nervous for some reason. The walk to his office was spent trying to deduce why. Maybe something was wrong this time.

You sat down on one of the chairs by his desk. His room was filled with all sorts of odd things, namely technology used to disprove — or prove — paranormal activity. Occasionally, this material would be showcased in class, and he and Matheson would do replicas of former encounters to demonstrate how they worked.

You always paid very close attention to those days, in case you ever need the information in the future. How to Evade Ghost Hunters 101!

“What is it? Have I really done something wrong this time?” you joked, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

He laughed. A beautiful smile.

“Of course not, you’re my star student.” Your heart warmed at that. “I just wanted to test some things out with you. For the curriculum, Dr. Matheson and I were considering adding it to the course, and we want your opinion.”

You nodded. “That’s fine with me.”

“Good.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out a tarot card pack.

“We want to do a lesson on how pictures and symbolism can be manipulated to fit the victim’s life,” he said, shuffling the deck. “Tarot cards are so vague and general — The Fool, for example, represents new beginnings and adventure. Is that not the foundation of everyone’s life? To explore, to be inexperienced?”

You agreed. “And how are you planning on presenting this to the class? Give out a tarot reading to everyone?”

Tom chuckled. “I just want to try it out with you, to prove it.”

He held out the cards for you to pick, but you stopped him. “Aren’t I supposed to tell you what I want to know?”

There was a brief silence, and if you looked carefully, you could see a light pink tinge glaze over his cheeks, and his breathing hitch ever so slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Don’t worry. Whatever you want to know about me,” you offered, amused at his reaction. “Tell me, what are you looking for?”

“I want to know your secrets,” he admitted. “I want to know what you’re hiding.”

“You’ll be disappointed. There’s nothing interesting about me.”

“We’ll see.”

You picked three cards and placed them down on the table. Each representative of either the past, present, or future, or at least, that’s how you were assuming he was doing the reading.

He turned the first card. It was The Star, reversed.

“Something in the past was bothering you,” he said. “You felt hopeless, like you had no more motivation . . . Am I right in guessing it was the result of something specific?”

“Yes,” you said. Obviously, his reading wasn’t true, how could it be? he wasn’t like you, but he was definitely right about the way people manipulated the symbolism. You doubted he knew the real reason why you had been so depressed.

He flipped over the next card. The Lovers.

He grinned. “I’m sure you can guess what this means. Are you in a relationship?”

You shook your head.

“Then it’s about a potential someone. You’ll find your complimentary, someone you can balance with — it could be platonic, or romantic, but no matter the type of relationship, they’ll be loving, and supportive.”

You looked into his eyes before returning your attention back down to the cards. Oh, how you wished it was him.

He turned the last card.

“The Ten of Cups. Your desires will be fulfilled. You’ll be happy, whatever problems you had in the past will be resolved.”

It was silent for a moment. You expected him to ask you questions of how accurate it was, and how quickly you connected his predictions to events in your life, but he didn’t.

“Do you believe in magic?” he asked bluntly. “The supernatural? You either do or you don’t, I can’t imagine you’d be wasting your time in this class if your opinion was neutral.”

You felt like you’d been put right on the spot. You thought about the right way to answer. “I believe in it, in the sense that I’m open about what we don’t know, and am optimistic about all the possibilities.”

He all but rolled his eyes. “C’mon. That was so wordy. I want to hear the truth.”

He leaned in closer. Your faces were inches apart, and you could feel his minty breath on your face.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “I believe in magic.”

He pulled away, satisfied. “I believe in magic, too.”

You quirked an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? Have you ever seen it in action?”

“Maybe,” he answered vaguely, a grin on his face. “Let me see your palm.”

You wanted to laugh, but you yourself was very eager to comply with his demands, not because you thought the experiments were interesting, but rather you enjoyed spending time with him, and the prospect of him touching you—even though it was only your hand—was thrilling.

Tom caressed the lines on your palms. He was distracted by it.

You weren’t sure what it was about him that made you so drawn. You didn’t believe in love at first sight, it was only something based on lust and looks, but this was more. You didn’t just like him, you found him utterly attractive, in a way that surpassed physicality.

It certainly wasn’t his personality. You thought you two were compatible in mentality, and you got along well, but he was rather boring. He wasn’t fiery nor exciting, nothing that could take you off guard or pique your curiosity.

He was intelligent. He told you he used to study physics, something you just had to respect him for, but you didn’t know that until just recently, and it’s not like his day-to-day actions showcased his genius.

You really didn’t know what it was, and a part of not knowing made it all the more mysterious. But it also made you feel vulnerable. In less than a year, you had become so hopelessly, irrevocably, in love with someone. He could do anything and you wouldn’t blink an eye. He had so much power over you, and he didn’t even know it.

“Can you feel it?” he asked softly, looking up at you.

You pulled your hand away, too flustered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He took your hand again, unrelenting. He gripped it tighter, encasing it in his warmth. It felt so nice.

“Between us,” he clarified, his voice low. He was gazing at you intently.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you like me?” he asked, his tone almost desperate. “I see you do things, impossible things. When you drop a pencil in class it floats back up to your hand, when your coffee gets too cold I see you wrap your hand around the cup and make it bubble. No one else notices, but I do. I see it.”

You froze, or rather, your mind was instantly filled with so many thoughts you couldn’t comprehend them all at once.

You thought you were careful with your abilities because up until now, no one had caught you. Not since you were a teenager who copied off others during a test, not since you got your first car and put it on autopilot so you could sleep during a drive, not even since you were a little girl who was too lazy to tie her own braid at school.

“T-Tom,” you stuttered. “I don’t . . .”

And what was that he said about being like him? Was he implying that he could do these things too? That after all these years of searching, you’d finally found another psychic?

Tom’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.” He chuckled nervously. “I don’t know what I was saying. Just forget it.”

He cleared his throat. You still didn’t say anything. It was like someone had pressed a mute button and you couldn’t speak, no matter how badly you wanted to say something.

“You should go,” he suggested. “Thank you, for all the help.”

He stood up, and you did too, mirroring his actions. He lead you over to the exit. “Have a nice day, I look forward to seeing you in class next week.”

You turned around, not wanting to leave yet. “Tom . . .”

He was about to close the door when you stopped it with your foot, budged it open, and leapt into his arms, placing a passionate kiss on his lips.

You didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t know what you were thinking. All that you knew was that you wanted him. Badly. As you pushed your way back inside the room, you feared for a moment that he was going to shove you off, tell you he didn’t mean it like that, but he didn’t. He pulled you inside and lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, and sat you on top of his desk, returning the kiss with even more intensity.

“Tom,” you all but moaned. You felt confused and dazed, but with the way Tom was nibbling at your neck, sucking and licking, you could tell he wasn’t in the same boat as you. You relaxed, letting everything go. You could let him take care of this—whatever this was. Let him take care of you.

“Can I take it off?” he asked in between kisses. He tugged at your shirt, fingers hovering above the buttons.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Please, please, please—”

The buttons unbuttoned themselves. You gasped a little in surprise as your shirt was tossed to the side. That was all the confirmation you needed—Tom Buckley was just like you.

The realization that you had finally found another was lost when he started kneading your breasts through your bra. “Such a needy girl,” he cooed. “Didn’t know she could get like that. Doesn’t want to answer my questions but needs me to please her.”

“Fuck,” you let out, surprised at the dirty talk, but pleased nonetheless. “I just want you.”

“I know you do. Staring at me like a piece of meat in class. That’s all I am to you, hmm? Just a hot teacher to fuck. You tell your little friends about me?”

“No!” You whined when his hands went underneath your bra and pinched your nipple. “Ow! I’ve never told anyone.”

“Ah, I knew you were a good girl.”

You whined again and nuzzled your head in the crook of his shoulder, not wanting him to see how flustered he was making you.

“Pretty girl,” he murmured, unclasping your bra, watching your breasts fall out. “Beautiful girl . . . Can I suck?”

“Yes!” you said impatiently. You found it sexy that he kept asking for permission, but also annoying—he needed to get straight to the point, and stop teasing you.

He latched his lip onto your hard nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud, occasionally nipping on it. While his mouth was occupied, his hands were roaming your body, up to your face and down to as far as he could reach, which while you were sitting down, was all the way to your ankles.

He switched nipples and went to your other breast, making you release a sigh of satisfaction. He eventually let go and gave you another kiss, his tongue slipping inside.

You looked down. He was hard, subtly trying to grind himself between your legs. “Mmm,” he moaned against your lips.

His moan was wonderful. If not for your own pleasure, you wanted to continue this just so you could elicit another sound out of him.

In a bold move, you reached down and squeezed his crotch. He let out a sound, more strangled this time, and pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you both.

He placed his hand over the hand that was palming his cock, encouraging you to keep going, with eyes shut and nose scrunched up. He then moved it to lean on your shoulders.

“Do you like it rough or vanilla?” he asked. “I can do both.”

You tried to hide your grin. “Rough.”

He knew that by saying that you didn’t want it completely that way. The actions, yes, but you still wanted to hear him praise you, to caress you, to whisper sweet things in your ear.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He picked you — handsome and strong — and laid you down on the couch. It wasn’t that large, but at least it was more comfortable than his desk, and you didn’t want to wait any longer by going to his place or yours.

“I want to let you know,” he started seriously, “that this isn’t a, uh, one-night stand. I don’t want that, not from you.”

“I don’t want that either,” you said.

“And I don't do this often. Well, I don't do this at all. With other students, I mean. You’re the first. I don’t want you to think that I’m just, how do you say it? playing you?”

You giggled. He didn’t seem like the playboy type at all. In fact, when most men and women flirted with him, he usually got all uncomfortable and quiet, a fact that boosted your ego, as he never felt that way around you.

“This is serious for me, too. Let’s keep it a secret until this semester is over. And when I’m out of your class we can make it public, okay?”

He nodded, and leaned down to kiss you again, soft and delicate.

“Take off your shirt,” you demanded.

He smiled at your behavior. It took a minute, because he was wearing his suit, but he managed to get it off with your help. You didn’t want to damage his clothing, it was probably on the more expensive side, and he looked so exquisite in it.

You admired his chest. He was lean, but you could still see some faint muscles. After all, he had carried you to the couch. He was perfect. It was just what you had hoped for.

This moment didn’t feel real. How was it that you had gotten so lucky? You were here with the man of your dreams, in his arms, and you were about to make love.

“Get on your knees.”

You did as he asked. You had done this a couple times before, so you weren’t really worried. You could even take cock all the way in, but when you saw his size, you gulped.

He guided your face to it. You licked the tip to the base to the balls, wondering how you were going to make it fit. You reasoned with yourself that if you couldn’t you could just use your hands for the rest.

That was, until he slid his cock inside your mouth and pushed it as far as he could. You controlled your gag reflex and started bobbing your head up and down, the sensation causing your eyes to tear, but not in pain.

He wiped them away. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t say anything, not with your mouth filled. You showed your answer by sucking him, fondling his balls, looking up at him through fluttering eyelashes.

“Ohhh, you take it so well. So well.”

He pushed your head all the way down, keeping it there for a few seconds. You breathed in through your nose, trying to keep yourself under control whilst still making the experience pleasurable for him. He seemed to like it, with the way he was rolling his hips against your mouth, even though there was nothing left to fit inside.

Then, suddenly, you felt something rubbing your clit through your pants. You tried to pull off of Tom, concerned at what it might be, when you realized it was him. He was the one doing it, making you feel this way.

He kept your head in place, a pleased smile on his face. “Like that?”

You moaned. You couldn’t concentrate on him, not when your body was being pleasured so good. How much practice had he had with his abilities? How could he focus when you were going down on him? It was probably the age. He wasn’t that much older than you, but he was older, and surely that came with more practice.

He pulled you off of him after a few minutes of you squirming and gagging, placing you down on the couch. He made sure your head was in a comfortable position before taking off your pants and pulling out his cock. Your pussy was still being rubbed, by whatever invisible force he was using, and it was about to make you come.

“I—I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he shushed, pressing his cock at your entrance.

“Let me make you—”

“No,” he growled. “I’m going to come inside of you. Don’t think, just let your professor handle it.”

You knew he wasn’t technically your professor. He was just the TA, but it was still sexy to hear him say that. It reminded you of your student-teacher relationship, the forbiddeness of it all.

You came just as his cock slid in. He sighed, feeling your pussy flutter and your cream leak out on him. He looked down, taking in the view, before pulling his cock out and slamming it back in, taking you off guard.

His pace was unrelenting. You didn’t know he could be so animalistic. He was panting and groaning in your ear, holding your body in place even though you weren’t going anywhere. He was still rubbing your clit — technically — but you didn't mind. You could take another orgasm. Besides, you weren’t sure if he would stop even if you asked. He looked so blissed out, like he was in another world, the only thing driving him his primal instinct.

“Gonna fill you up so good,” he said, increasing the intensity of his pace. The couch was now shuffling a little, moving forward a little bit each time, but Tom didn’t seem to notice. “You need it so bad. Just want me to take care of you, yeah?”

“Yes,” you cried out, rather pathetically. It was crazy to think how submissive this man could make you. You had never been like this with any of your other partners, but with him, you felt safe, like you trust him with anything.

“I can imagine — you in class, giving me one of those eyes you always do. Fuck — the other students don’t suspect a thing, but both you and I know that I’ll have you over my desk by evening.”

The thought alone made your mind whirl.

“I should fill your panties with my cum, make you walk around in it,” he said. That shouldn’t have aroused you as much as it did. He noticed your reaction. “Oh, you enjoy hearing me say those things? Those depraved, dirty things.”

He hit that spot in you, the one that made you go crazy, and you cried out, clutching his shoulders.

“There it is,” he said, mostly to himself, as he kept ramming that spot over and over again. The added sensations made you go limp in his arms. You could feel that familiar coil in your stomach, the one that told you you were going to orgasm again.

You threw your head back, looking up at the ceiling as you came, but your peace of mind didn’t last long. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look back at him, beating that same spot again, all while continuing the assault on your clit. “Look at me, I want to see your face.”

You looked right into his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes, and you could tell an orgasm was coming for him, too.

You felt a little ashamed that in such a short time he had made you come twice, and you hadn’t at all — at least, not yet — but like he said before, he didn’t want you to think, so you didn’t, and let whatever thoughts you had left bouncing around in your head leave.

“You’re wonderful,” he praised, kissing you again. He couldn’t get enough of it. Your teeth clashed briefly, but neither of your cared. He just wanted to taste you. “I can’t wait to be with you.”

With that, he came inside, filling you up to the brim with his hot seed. He kept his cock in, holding your hips in place, until he was satisfied and pulled out.

He laid on top of you on the couch, caressing the side of your cheek as you both recovered and took your breath.

It was silent. Just the two of you, in his office. You had finally found the one. The one you were sure you were going to spend the rest of your life with, all happy and in love like a fairytale.

“I didn’t . . . I didn’t think I’d ever find another,” you finally said.

“I didn’t either. I’m glad it was you. I’m glad it’s you I get to share this with.”

“Hey, what was with the cards? Were you just testing me?”

“Yeah.” He turned to face you. “I wasn’t sure if I was just seeing things. I mean, you get up so early and go to work, sometimes you just imagine a kid opening a door on its own or playing tricks with her assignments. I had to be sure.”

“So, you weren’t intending to tell my future?”

“You can’t actually do that,” he said.

“Yes you can.”

He blinked, surprised.

“I know you said the interpretation is very broad, but it still works.”

“You can actually tell the future?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t have to be with Tarot cards only. But whatever methods, I don’t do it often, I feel like it messes with things. But sometimes I just get these images in my head, and I can’t stop it.”

It hadnt occurred to you that even though you were both psychic, your powers, or at least, the direction you went with them, were different.

“If you weren’t reading my future, what were you doing?”

“I noticed that objects imbued with magic, especially artifacts, radiated energy—a feeling, one that only I could sense. If I gave the same impression on those cards, and you happened to pick them, it would either be a huge coincidence or it would mean you were drawn to them, albeit unknowingly. It was just something to give me more confidence.”

You weren’t aware that was something a person could do. You supposed there were plenty of things you didn’t know. You were looking forward to learning from him, and teaching him as well. You were both in uncharted waters, not knowing where this would lead you both. But it was okay, as long as you had him by your side.

You did worry a little that this intense connection you felt with him was only in an otherworldly sense, that you fell for him because of this magic, but you shook the thought away. That wasn’t true. You wouldn’t let it be true. You loved him and he loved you—and that was it. Nothing more.

“I can do another round,” he said suddenly. “You?”

You grinned and nodded. “Yeah. But this time, I want to ride you.”

He laughed and flipped you both over so that you were on top of him. “Show me how you get off, babygirl.”

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@shroombloom-rry

@meetmeatyourworst

@mrkdvidal1989

#pinguwrites #tom buckley #tom buckley x reader #tom buckley x y/n #tom buckley x you #cillian murphy #red lights #fanfiction

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celaenaeiln · 6 months

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Nothing in Batman comics is canon because it’s literally 90% fanfiction written after the actual creators stopped writing the characters.

anon it doesn't work that way.

By that logic, practically noone exists because the original writer of Batman, Bob Kane and Bill Finger, only created Bruce, Dick, Alfred, and the villains gallery. That's it.

No Barbara, no Jason, no Tim, no Damian, Steph, Cass, Duke, Lucius, Tim Fox, Kate, Talia - there's no one then.

But suppose we go back on that statement and say 'well actually, the creators of new characters', which still doesn't make sense but let's go with that. Then major plots wouldn't happen. Because Max Allan Collins and Chris Warner created Jason Todd but Judd Winick is the one who brought him back to life. Marv Wolfman and Pat Broderick created Tim Drake but Alan Grant wrote a lot of the Robin comic and Batman comic characterization for him.

It's physically impossible to say that just because other people continued the series, the comics can't be taken seriously.

Comics are the source material. Of which fanfics are based on.

The Star Trek and Star Wars book series are written by multiple different authors but that doesn't mean that what's written doesn't happen or isn't true or is wrong. The 39 Clues and Doctor Who series are the same deal.

Batman comics are canon. Because if only the works of the original authors of Batman were to be considered canon, then practically everyone in the Batman universe doesn't exist/doesn't matter. Because they're just fanfic then.

But this idea doesn't just stop at the Batman fandom anymore because every comic was written this way. The people in Superfam? Gone. Flashfam? Gone. Arrowfam? Gone. Like this logic doesn't just apply to Batman, it applies to virutally every character in the existence of DC.

The beauty of comics is seeing how the next writer will continue the story. Sometimes they're right, sometimes they need tweaking, and sometimes they're wrong although that's usually very rare.

The problem with fandom's view on comic writing is the belief that whatever the authors create must match our perspective of the characters. That's wrong. Their characterization is what we should be adding on/building on to our perspective of the characters. Unless there is something so wrong, something so illogical, that it must be noted because that character has never acted that way before, then we must discard or critisize a comic.

Comics develop. Characters develop. Each writer brings something new and adds a layer of depth to each character they write about. That's how we get new interactions, new relationships, new sides that make each character interesting.

Take the original Dick Grayson comic and his intro to Robin

Detective Comics (1937) Issue #38

Dick originally wanted to go to the police. He had no intention of going after Tony Zucco but Bruce is the one who demands they go after him together by themselves!

I love this version created by Bob Kane and Bill Finger, but I also love the version created by a completely different author where Dick decides to stake out Zucco on his own. Both versions show different sides of him and authors sometimes even choose which one they want to include. Some have gone with this version where Dick tries to go to the police before being interrupted by Bruce and others have gone with the second, more famous version. But neither of them are bad and you can't say that the one where Dick goes after Tony Zucco is fanfiction. It's canon. If it's written in comics, it happened unless there's some disastrous, glaring contradiction.

You have to understand, these comics - especially Dick and Bruce's - are nearly 100 years old. Dick, and it's wild to think about this, existed before even the Justice League did. Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, and Aquaman were all created after him. If the orginial writers stopped writing, and noone picked it up, there would be no Justice League and that's a problem because the Justice League is one of the foundations of the DC comics.

So much has changed in a century and new writers constantly come in to show that change. That's why comics after the original writers finish writing are still canon and important. The original characterizations of all these major players were all super peppy and cheerful before new writers added angst and drama to their backstories. Bruce and Dick used to laugh and grin when they went crime fighting with no sadness or anger or other emotions. It wasn't until a couple decades later where writers started writing that in which is how we get the grim avenger Batman today.

Here's the third point to why they're relevant even though they're written by new authors: the passage of time in real life, is included in canon comics characterizations.

One comic talks about Dick discussing the Joker and he says, "at the beginning, it was just all fun and games. He would cause problems but at the end of the day it was a game. But one day, things went too far. People got shot. That day, the Joker changed. He was darker and evil. It wasn't games anymore."

This comic panel talks about the Golden Age to now, the progression and development of characters.

The comics and reality are inseparable because reality is literally written in. The works of writers after the orignal ones aren't arbitrary or some whimsical thing.

It's very different from fanfiction because fanfiction has no need to stick to the truth or canon characterization but these comic writers do because they have an obligation to do so. The only problem they might have is accidentally focusing too much on one aspect of a character and neglecting the other parts but almost none of them are way off the mark.

So no, for the sake of characterization, personality development, plot events, and new interactions, all comics are extremely important and definitely canon. Us readers might have different opinions and thoughts on them but it's irrelevant in the face of the fact that the comics are the only truth to which we can base our interpretations on.

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ivyblossom · 3 months

Text

That thing where I feel like I'm going to have to write fanfiction again

This is a weird one. I just want to say it somewhere, so that I've said it somewhere, but I realize there's there's one person who actually cares about this and she already knows, so. This is just for me, I guess.

Fifteen years ago, I wrote most of a Narnia fic. It pairs of Edmund Pevensie and Bacchus, aka Dionysus, the ancient Greek god of grapes, wine and uninhibited ecstasy. Also theatre. I know, that's a bit weird. Is Bacchus even in the Narnia stories? (Yes, he is. He even has lines!) Why on earth am I pairing him up with Edmund, who is 10 when we first meet him?

It's all the weird memory tricks, I'm a sucker for those. The Pevensies forget about England because they stay so long in Narnia and stop thinking about England, and they can (and do) forget about Narnia if they stay in England too long and don't think about Narnia enough (poor Susan), and I find that really interesting. It offers up so many nooks and crannies to stick story in. They grow up and become adults in Narnia, but are required to forget most of it in order to return to build children in England.

And come on: is Bacchus not also very obviously the god of Narnian orgies? I mean, yes. Clearly. He's also Aslan's default caterer and water-into-wine head tech. If you need buildings destroyed and bullies turned into trees and/or pigs, Bacchus is your guy. He's not big on wearing clothes, and according to Edmund, he's incredibly beautiful and extremely dangerous. Edmund is only 10 when we first meet him, sure, but he grows up, reverse ages, and then starts to grow up again. Bacchus throws them a G-rated orgy in Prince Caspian. There's love there.

Hasn't Edmund suffered enough? Yes, he got addicted to the Turkish Delight that time, but he'd been struggling and was being bullied, he was carrying a lot of self-hatred and shame, give a kid a break. He did get himself heroically killed putting it right, only to be healed physically and psychologically by Santa Claus's magic healing cordial, as one does. Doesn't Edmund deserve a cute immortal boyfriend with quirky friends and a serious green thumb who grows his own grapes, makes his own wine, can manipulate and control the desires of everyone around him like conducting an orchestra, and who will love him until the end of time? There aren't many humans in Narnia, why not hook up with the god of uninhibited ecstasy? I mean, he's right there.

Anyway. It was fifteen years ago.

I wrote 3/4ths of it, I had one part left to go to finish it, I had an idea about what how it would end, but for some reason I never wrote the ending. I don't remember why. So it's been sitting there unfinished since 2009.

And in the last few weeks I started thinking about it again. I had an idea about that ending. I couldn't remember if this idea I was toying with was my original concluding idea or not, it's been that long, but I liked the idea, and I thought, you know, I should write that idea in as the last part and finally finish that thing.

And then I read what I'd written. And a) 15 years is a long time and I have so many criticisms, I was clearly in love with the sound of my own voice (uh...nothing's changed there I guess?), b) I wrote the thing in such a way to exclude my new idea, so apparently that wasn't my original plan, but c) yeah, I should have written this thing properly the first time around. And now I have 104 more ideas and I love them all, so.

I think I have to rewrite it. Or, I suppose, just write another one and replace it? I dunno. Just playing it out now.

I think I'm going to write it. Is this an active fandom? I don't think so. I don't care. This love story needs to be told. Edmund deserves this.

#fanfiction #narnia #Edmund/Bacchus #it's never too late right?

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

Note

hello love :)

i can't stop reading your fanfictions!! they are so perfectly done ! thank you so much for writing them :)

i don't know if you are still accepting requests but if you feel like it could you maybe write a reverse matt takes his frustration out on reader? maybe the reader comes home angry because of work or something and first wants to go boxing but matt convinces her to stay with him because he knows she will keep on boxing until her knuckles are soaked in blood. to his surprise (and excitement) reader becomes super dominant. bites him, scratches his back and maybe even rides his thigh.

the next morning when the bruises and scratches are visible she feels guilty but it ends in fluff<33

thank you so much :)

hi nonnie! :)

I actually really love this reversal idea!! thank you so much for requesting it, & for the incredibly kind words. I had a lot of fun with this one a bit too much probably. I hope this is what you were looking for! enjoy!!!

warning: contains explicit sexual content (minors please dni), swearing, a brief mention of blood word count: 2.4k

use me.

“Use me.”

Matt’s words momentarily halted your furious pacing, the first thing to cut through that fog of anger that he understood all too well since you’d walked through the front door moments ago. He could hear the thunder in your heartbeat from three blocks away, and instantly knew today had been a really bad day for you.

He didn’t want you to go to Fogwell’s. He’d actually grown to regret taking you there, teaching you how to hit, and showing you what he did when he needed to blow off steam in between his nightly patrols. You let your rage consume you just as easily as he did, punching the worn leather over and over until your own knuckles bled if he wasn’t there to hold you back or wrap your hands properly. Matt didn’t want you to hurt yourself. He just wanted to help.

Matt took cautious steps over towards you, nodding his head slightly in your direction as he kept his voice even and quiet.

“I know you need to get it out, so use me. Let it all out on me, sweetheart. I can take it.”

Your breaths came out in angry, staccato beats and Matt could hear the way your teeth slightly ground together by the way you tensed your jaw.

“I don’t…I don’t want to hurt you-“

The edges of Matt’s mouth turned upwards slightly in an amused smile as he let out a dry chuckle.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, honey. And even if you do, you won’t break me. I can take a lot-“

“Yeah, but I’m not supposed to add to that, Matt. I’m supposed to be your relief from it-“

“And you are. Now let me be yours.”

You had let Matt use your body plenty of times before to try and tame that thing inside his chest when nothing else seemed to work. Now, he was offering you his. He took another careful step forwards, completely blocking the door frame to cage you into the bedroom as he listened to the violence that thrashed around beneath your ribcage. His fingers twitched at his sides slightly in excitement. Matt had always been the one in control every time the two of you were intimate. It grounded him despite all the other chaos in his life, and you liked it just as much as he did. You didn’t even have to think about submitting to him; your body did it all on its own. Every time he touched you, even faintly, you melted into him, letting his body absorb yours completely as he molded you to his own liking.

But he couldn’t deny the exhilaration he felt about the thought of you commanding him for once.

Matt loved to please you. Even when he was in control, he was focused on your pleasure just as much as his own. He loved getting rewarded with your chants of his name, endless praises falling from your lips as you let him take what he wanted, leaving marks on your body like trophies for how well he’d treated you. Matt was a giver, even while he was taking, and he never let himself free fall into bliss until you had jumped first.

But right now he wanted you to be the one to take. He wanted you to take until he had nothing left to give, and then he’d find a way to give you even more.

“Use me, sweetheart.”

Matt moaned against your lips when you dragged him down by his tie to capture his mouth, hands immediately gripping onto your waist as you grabbed onto the back of his neck tightly to keep him in place. His lips parted abruptly when you nipped at his bottom lip, a soft whine sounding in the back of his throat at the way you tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. He stumbled slightly when you turned him around, forcing him backwards until the back of his knees met the edge of the bed, pushing him back with all your strength before straddling his lap.

He bunched your dress up around your hips while digging his fingertips into the soft flesh of your thighs. Your kisses were hungry and fervent as you dominated his mouth with your tongue, and it made his head spin. Matt quickly pulled your dress over your head the second you broke apart for air, groaning softly when you attached your lips to his neck to suck on his pulse point. Your fingers savagely tugged the soft fabric of his tie from his neck, nearly tearing every single button off his dress shirt before ardently shoving it off his broad shoulders. Matt instinctively bucked his hips upwards when your nails scratched at the skin above his belt, nimble fingers working on the hook of your bra as yours made quick work of his belt and the zipper on his pants.

Wrapping his arm tightly around your waist, he lifted you up slightly to push his pants down his thighs to his ankles, moving his knee between your thighs so you could straddle one of his. Placing his hand firmly on your lower back, he encouraged you to move your hips as you licked and bit at the sensitive parts of his neck.

“Move your hips, baby. Feel good on me, c’mon.”

A loud moan left your lips when you started to ride Matt’s muscular thigh, and the sound went straight to his fully erect cock. He whimpered softly when you sank your teeth into the juncture where his neck met his collarbone, digging the pads of his fingers further into your soft thighs. He could taste your arousal in the air and feel it coating his thigh as it seeped through your panties, and he swore he could come just like this.

Matt had never seen this side of you before, but he wanted more of it. He loved how greedy and possessive you were with him, a surprised moan of your name leaving his kiss bitten lips when you yanked his head back by his hair.

“Fuck…”

Matt hissed softly when you dragged your nails down the smooth marble of his chest, subconsciously moving his hips upwards every time your clothed pussy rubbed against his thick thigh. Your fingertips paused at the waistband of his briefs, and he leaned his forehead against your shoulder as a needy whine slipped past your lips.

“Matty…please…”

“Go ahead, take it. It’s your cock, baby. Take it and use it. It’s your-oh…God…fuck…”

Matt whimpered as the fabric of his briefs rubbed against his aching tip when you tugged them down. His jaw went slack the second you pushed your panties aside and sank down fully onto his cock, both of your loud moans of relief bouncing off the walls. Matt’s face twisted up in pleasure, his dark brows knitting together in the center of his forehead as you grabbed his face in your hand to moan against his lips.

“Fuck…you feel so good, Matty.”

You clawed at Matt’s back hazardously as you rocked your hips with a vengeance, and he whined loudly from the rapture that followed the sting of your nails carving into his skin. Every one of Matt’s senses had been kicked into overdrive, and he was completely overwhelmed by you. The praise of his name falling off your lips, the tang of your desire mixed with sweat in the air, the smell of your apple scented shampoo right beneath his nose, and the warm silk of your skin beneath his hands…it was almost too much.

Placing your palms flat against his chest, you pushed him back against the mattress and hovered over him, grabbing both of his hands to hold hostage above his head as you rode him even harder. Matt’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head as he reached a new depth inside of you at this angle, panting heavily beneath you while squeezing your hands tightly.

“Take what you need baby…take it, that’s-fuck…yes baby yes…”

Matt’s moans were nearly breathless when you quickened your pace, and it was taking every ounce of self control not to combust before you got what you needed from him.

“Keep fucking me like that…fuck me how you want baby, c’mon. Make yourself feel good on my cock…just like that baby-fuck…yes…yes.”

“Look so pretty like this Matty…so fucking pretty. Such a good boy for me.”

Matt moaned your name loudly at that, thrusting his hips upwards to match your rhythm to try and get you as close to the edge as he was.

“Fuck baby…please…come on my cock, wanna feel it. Need to feel it.”

“You like when I fuck you like this, Matty?”

“God…yes. Please don’t stop. Keep fucking me like this…please baby, please.”

He could feel that you were close by the way your walls tightened around him. A strangled moan erupted from his throat when he felt your pussy clench tightly around his cock. He wasn’t going to last another second if you kept doing that.

“Fuck…babygirl…you’re gonna make me come…I-oh…”

“Want you to come for me, Matty. Come inside me, baby. Show me how good I make you feel.”

“Baby-”

Matt’s whine got cut off when your hand wrapped tightly around his throat, fingers squeezing just enough to make him completely lightheaded.

“Be a good boy and come for me.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to wait for you. He wanted you to get what you needed first. But you were fucking him too goddamn good, and you gave him an order. He wanted to be good for you. He wanted to make you proud. Matt let out a loud yell of your name as he came the hardest he ever had in his entire fucking life. He was nearly in tears from overstimulation as you rode out your own high, whining when your pussy gripped his spent cock again as the mix of your releases leaked down onto his thighs.

It felt like his head was underwater as he tried to catch his breath, your voice sounding muffled and far as you whispered into his ear and brushed his sweaty hair away from his forehead. His arms felt heavy from exhaustion, and he couldn’t hardly move them from their place above his head. The last thing he remembered before passing out was hearing your sweet praises in his ear and feeling your soft kiss on his lips.

Matt had never felt more refreshed in his life than when he did the next morning. His body didn’t ache with exhaustion or pain. His mind and senses felt exceptionally clear. The weight of the world didn’t seem to be bearing on his shoulders for once. He felt…relaxed. Happy. He couldn’t remember the last time his body hadn’t felt so tightly wound up with stress, or his soul so heavy with guilt. His entire being seemed to tingle still with electric shocks from the gratification you had given him last night, and he couldn’t stop smiling.

His ears perked up when he heard the uptick of your heartbeat and the rustle of sheets when you began to stir. A giddiness filled him that you were finally waking up, and he made his way into the kitchen to make you some coffee the way he knew you liked. His excitement only grew hearing your feet padding softly and lazily along the floor, but his good mood was cut short when he heard the soft gasp of shock leave your lips.

“Oh my god, Matt.”

He quickly whipped his head around to face you, blank eyes darting around in your direction as he focused his senses completely on you. A furrow formed between his brows as he cocked his head to the side, unable to identify the source of your unease.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Your back…”

“What?”

Matt stood still as you quickly made your way over to him, gently pushing at his shoulders to get him to turn around. Another shocked gasp was muffled by your hand being placed over your mouth, fingertips hovering just above the skin of his back.

“Oh my god, I…I’m so sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to do that. Matt, I’m-”

“Sweetheart, what are you talking about? What’s going on?”

Matt’s confusion spread over the rest of his features as he turned back around to face you, gently grabbing onto your waist as he felt the way your bottom lip began to tremble.

“Matt, your back is all scratched up. I made you bleed. And your neck and chest…God, Matt they’re covered-”

“Wait, that’s it? You’re upset because you left a few marks?”

“A few? That is a lot fucking more than a few. I can’t believe I-”

“Hey hey hey, easy. Honey, it’s okay-”

“No it isn’t, Matt. I can’t believe I did that to you.”

Matt sighed softly as he wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you into his chest, gently cupping your jaw in his hand as he gazed down in your direction with a light smile.

“It doesn’t hurt. I’m okay, I promise. I leave marks on you all the time, don’t I?”

“Never like that.”

Matt’s tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips as he shook his head slowly, leaning in to brush his nose against yours while brushing his thumb along your jawline.

“Baby, they don’t hurt. I promise. And you know what? I like that they’re there. Wanna know why?”

A smirk stretched across his mouth at the way your body tensed up hearing his voice drop a husky octave lower, lips instantly parting as he rubbed his thumb along your bottom lip slowly.

“Because you enjoyed yourself that much, that you had to bite down on me to try to not be so loud, even though I prefer when you are. Because you were riding my cock so fucking good, and were so fucking wet, that you had to dig your nails into my back to hang on to me. And now, wherever we go, everyone can see these, and they’ll know that I’m yours. So, why should you feel guilty about any of that, huh? Can’t you feel how much I like them?”

Matt suddenly pulled you flush against his hips, causing a whine to slip past your lips as you felt the evidence of his truth poking into your lower belly.

“Matty-”

“Shh…you were so good to me last night, babygirl. Treated me so well. Now, you’re gonna sit on that counter and spread those legs so I can say thank you.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @messymissy @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock smut #matt murdock request #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil smut #daredevil request

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silverskye13 · 2 months

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how did you get the confidence to write fanfiction? i always worry that i won't portray the characters properly so any ideas or wants to write fanfics that i have go away or i talk myself out of it :(

Well! First and foremost: Most people don't start writing,,,, anything with confidence. Let alone fanfic, where you know other people are going to be looking at it, with their own ideas of how the characters are supposed to act and feel influencing what they're coming to the story with. My first fanfic I was very insecure, which I feel like was evident, reading through the author's notes now. Apologies whenever something that required a lot of suspension of disbelief happened, a poll so readers could decide the ending so I wouldn't disappoint anybody, only to end in me writing and posting three different endings. Long justifications for why I chose certain things in the author's notes. The fic nowadays reads to me like a very rough apology.

"Hi I'm sorry I tried. Be kind I'm very scared."

But the thing about writing that fic was, it was the writerly equivalent of jumping into the deep end of the pool for the first time. After I bobbed back to the surface and realized a shark hadn't like, taken my legs off while I was down there, jumping in again got easier. And kept getting easier. And now I just write and post things.

There's kind of two schools of thought that I've seen people subscribe to, when it comes to taking the first leap. The one that's really popular around here on Tumblr is: Do it scared. It is simple and straightforward. You are scared. You will be scared. You probably never won't be scared. So do it scared. Write your thing, close your eyes and hit send [either to post it or to share it with one or two friends, or even just hitting the "save" button and not deleting it]. Get scared, do it, close your eyes, finish. When you open your eyes again and nothing terrible has happened, you can breathe a sigh of relief and do it scared again. It's a little nerve-wracking at first, but the idea is giving your mind the association of jumping and not falling. I did it and I didn't fail, therefore it is safe to do it again.

The other school of thought [the one I specifically subscribe to] is: Do it once. What you think or feel about it doesn't matter. What matters is you did it once. Maybe it will be hell, or it'll suck terribly. Maybe you're really excited! And it turns out great! Maybe its a wild ride of ups and downs, and by the end you need a few months to catch your breath and decide if it was worth it. Regardless: you did it once. Now you know, if you want to, you can do it again. Now you can decide if its worth doing again. For me, the euphoria of finishing a project always far outweighs the trouble getting there, so the step forward of "Do it once" is powerful for me. And that can be broken down too. "Write one chapter." "Draw one drawing." "Clean one room in the house." There is no pressure to continue if its really that terrible, but you at least get to decide if one was worth it [and a solid 9 times out of 10, one was worth it enough to do it more.]

Now, all that said, if what you're worried about is writing the characters right and nothing else -- don't worry too much. Most people care less about how true to life the characters are, and care a lot more about consistency in the story. An example from RnS: In canon, Helsknight is a cartoonish villain with one motivation, and that motivation is taking over hermitcraft Doofenschmirtz style. To date, no one has come into my inbox demanding I change him, because he's so OOC he's basically an OC at this point. What people have come into my inbox about though, is "Hey, you established X in this chapter, but he said Y in this chapter. Was there a reason for that?" which is them saying, "Why didn't you keep your character consistent?" If you tell your audience what the expectations are for the story and you stick with them, they will stop caring about OOC moments and characterizations, and will trust you're going somewhere with your writing. Suspension of disbelief, your powerful friend! They put the world on their shoulders and carry and everybody watches and claps.

If you're also worried about consistency, then start out with one shots! There's a lot less room for error, no large, sweeping character arcs to keep track of. And stringing a bunch of one-shots together can give you practice with character consistency and progression without committing to something massive and overarching. If you're truly worried about making the characters exactly like Canon [or the Canon in your head], I recommend making little lists of character traits, or important things you want to keep in mind. At that point you're scared of your own consistency, and you just need a framework to keep yourself consistent enough for yourself, if that makes sense?

Hopefully! This helps! Sorry I'm a little scattered today :'D

#answering asks #caramelcoatednightmares #writing advice #fanfic advice #longpost #the barking writer #im very sleepy and still thinking about soup #i think maybe i'm just very thirsty

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viktor-howl · 17 days

Text

Valentine's gift

... I can write Onceler x y/n fanfiction… And I will.

I am cringe AND I AM FREE.

(Also I'm still really really new here so very sorry if there's any mistakes here and there, let me know what yall think )

You found yourself walking through a path you never saw before, it felt as if the very carpet you stepped on was exclusive, only allowed to very few people. Yet here you are, listening to your footsteps, the sound muffled by the texture of the velvet carpet.

The closer you get to your destination, the more silent it starts to become. The air feels tense, and you catch a glimpse of a woman surrounded by papers glaring at you, having an annoyed look just from knowing of your presence.

At the end of the hallway, no one is guarding the pair of tall doors. You gathered courage to knock on the door, but the cushiony texture of it blocked any efforts you made. There was no other choice, you had to step in, he called you, after all.

Pushing the doors open, you finally step inside the large office. So much space, yet so little of it being actually used, it felt pointless, and made it all more echoey, which didn't make for a very welcoming environment.

“...”

You went silent for a moment, trying to ignore the fact that your boss was sitting at his desk, on a large chair, as if it wasn't enough for his impressive height. Knowing very well that you had to be the one to start the conversation, or at least get closer, you approach the desk. The tall man had seen you enter, although he was pretending otherwise. Of course, the best option was to pretend as if he didn't see you come in, as if he was busy, as if he wasn't counting the minutes until you would walk through that door to finally meet him… Of course not.

Finally, you reach the front of his desk, standing awkwardly as he finished his little act and actually acknowledged you.

“Ah, there you are!”

Those were his first words, yet he didn't even face your direction. It was obvious just from his body language, this man was nervous beyond belief. Was this the scary boss everyone hissed about in the break room? The towering figure, the one that was supposed to scold employees when they made simple mistakes? And yet, his wobbly voice made its way through your ears again.

“I called you here, since… Uhh…"

Was he stuttering? What was the meaning of this? Not only were you called in the middle of your break, but you had to walk through the whole building to find his office, and he couldn't even finish his sentence. A part of you wished that this was just a simple matter that had to be handled, nothing more. Having a little voice in your head telling you that you were probably getting fired for no reason at all was enough to keep you stressed through the whole walk…

“Well, it's… you know,”

The moment you look up and snap out of your thoughts, the taller man is fidgeting with his hands before leaning a bit forward onto the desk. One of his hands went downwards, you guessed he was starting to fidget with the cushion of the seat, while the other tried to keep the pace of his speech, signaling nothing at all, since he couldn't even finish a sentence properly.

“Around this time of the year, uhm…”

And he was stalling. And it was becoming unbearable. You kept your straight facade, staying still, even if you wanted to relax and sway from one foot to another. You had to keep up the perfect employee act, at least for a while longer until your boss decided to speak clearly.

“we gift something to special-”

‘gift’? If you thought you had any idea of what was coming when he called you here in the first place, it completely went out the window the moment he stuttered that word. As quickly as the taller man let out that shaky sentence, you felt your shoulders relax, the knot in your throat easing, leaving you in a better state than when you got here.

Onceler's eyes wandered to your figure for a moment, he definitely noticed… that little change in behavior gave him a spark of hope, maybe he wasn't coming off as a creep —which was what he convinced himself he did when he saw the stiff demeanor you had since arriving— but rather a thoughtful boss, who took care of his employees.

You, specifically.

For no reason at all, of course. Just professional behavior.

“W-we gift something to all of our employees”

He corrected himself yet again, and before you could muster a single word, he raised his previously hidden arm, pulling out a pink bag with a rather excessive ribbon for a simple gift, especially since ‘all of the employees’ were getting this kind of treatment. It amazed you, it left you with a weird feeling, but it wasn't completely impossible. After all, this man was rich enough to have the whole factory in the palm of his hand, among other expensive buildings and a mansion he barely used. At this point, everything was possible, and you figured your first impressions of the ‘evil greedy mean boss’ were wrong all along.

You gazed at the shiny bag in front of you, standing still on the desk as he left it there gently, watching as he pushed it forward, prompting you to simply take it and leave. His hands were left neatly folded on top of the desk for a few seconds, before you realized that he was trembling. The taller man tried to hide the fact by simply fidgeting, interlocking his own fingers, eyes fixated on your expression, on every little change your face could show after he left the gift for you. He was practically analyzing you.

Feeling watched, you gazed at him instead of the gift, unable to say anything just yet, and there it was. Your boss, eyes widened when you both locked eyes, visible even through those sparkly sunglasses. His brows raised, and the second he realized you were at a perfect angle to see through the shades, he tilted his face away. An unknown yet tingly warmth stirred inside you. You could see it as clear as day, the man before you was embarrassed, his cheeks tinted red. It was faint, but it was there.

“Happy Valentine's”

He mumbled under his breath, avoiding your eyes at all costs, as well as your general direction. You couldn't really tell from the new angle, but you figured he was watching every move you made from the corner of his eyes. Letting out a contained sigh, you got closer, and you could almost feel the way he flinched when you did. Taking the present, you let go of the formalities for a moment, only to thank him as a person and not as an employee.

As those words left your lips, you could see a clearly giddy smile form on his lips. He almost seemed childish from the way he was beaming after you thanked him, even if he was trying to tone it down.

“Hey, don't even mention it. And… Try to avoid showing it to other employees. Or asking what they got as a present —which they definitely got, you know, all of our employees— maybe just keep it to yourself, ahem…”

And that was your signal to go off and leave the office, which you did, of course, you didn't want the man having a heart attack just from your presence, and the walk was going to be just as long as the beginning, there was no time to waste.

Finally, you close the door and walk away, hiding the gift the best you could. You would open it to find some of your favorite items once you got home, but for now, it was a mystery.

About three minutes passed since you left the office, and Onceler couldn't contain himself anymore. Once he was completely sure you were away, his body relaxed, only for it to shiver in excitement. Bringing his hands to his face, he giggled like a schoolgirl, spinning from side to side on his chair, a dumb smile decorating his face as he patted himself in the back for being able to interact with you without making it seem weird, mumbling how proud he was of himself after your small exchange.

#oncie #onceler fanart #onceler #onceler x reader #g/n reader #x reader #viktorhowl #art #greedler #the lorax

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raschuuuu · 7 months

Text

Summary: Y/N is a famous YouTube vlogger and Ruben Dias a famous professional football player. They've been friends for a few months but never met. Now it's finally time for them to meet but what happens when one of them falls in love?

PART 1

Rating/genre: fluff, friends to lovers

Pairings: Ruben Dias x female reader

Word count: 1289 words

Author's note: Hey guy's. This is my first ever footballer fanfiction. First of all: I AM SORRY ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I'm bored at work tbh, thats why I started this and I have no idea how to continue. So if you like this and want to read more please let me know how to continue or how you would want it to end?:)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was finally time. I'm on the train from London to Manchester. I took a few days off because I was invited. From Ruben Dias. I'm a Vlogger/Youtuber and apparently Ruben often watched my videos and decided to slide into my DM's a few months ago. We just started small talk, he told me he liked to watch my videos every Sunday and that I should keep doing what I do. I was honored. In the beginning we only had small talk but over time we've been writing more and more and more and also making phone calls and facetime. The only problem was that we never met because he's very busy and so am I. A few days ago Ruben asked me if we didn't want to finally meet and I said yes. And now I'm sitting here and I'm all excited.

Hey, I'll wait for you outside in the car. See you in a minute!

He texted me. I got off the train, it had already been dark. I told him not to come and I'm gonna take a cab, but he insisted.

I realized how nervous I got, I mean, we've been writing for a long time, but we've never met in person, and he even offered me that I could sleep with at his place. We didn't have a romantic relationship, we just texted as friends, but I mean the guy is pretty hot and everyone who doesn't think so must be blind.

When I was outside, I was out in the parking lot, I didn't even know which car he was driving. Do you know this embarrassing situation when you stand there looking for someone and the person most likely has already discovered you? I heard someone calling my name from a car standing a few meters away from me.

I ran to the car and he got out. He smiled at me very cute and he gave me a hug. His body felt so strong. He smelled good and we looked each other in the eye. He was a little taller than me, so I had to look up.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you in person," he said, and I noticed my cheeks turning a little red. "Me too, Ruben, we finally made it after so long," I replied.

He packed my things in his trunk, and then he opened his car door for me, and we drove off. The ride didn't take long, he asked me how it was and if I was hungry. I was so hungry but I couldn't eat because of all the excitement.

When we arrived, he parked his car and we went up to his apartment. His apartment was huge, clean and tidy, and above all, it was comfortable. He took me to the guest room and showed me where I‘ll stay for the next few days?

In the guest room, I remembered that we never agreed how long I was supposed to stay. I was uncomfortable staying with him anyway. I've told him several times that I'm going to take a hotel, but he insisted that I stay with him.

"Ruben, thank you, wow, this room looks so great, but I just remembered, we didn't agree how long I'd stay. I really don't want to bother you.", I said desperately. "Y/N, are you crazy? Stay as long as you want. My home is your home, I want my guests to be comfortable." he answered.

That feeling he gave me felt so domestic. I mean, I've known him for a little while, but how often do you have situations in life where you get along with a person very well, but once you get together, it gets kind of weird and uncomfortable? I was afraid that we'd end up in a similar situation, but on the contrary, it felt like I'd always visited him, as if we'd always been friends, as if I'd stayed with him several times.

For the next two days we spent together, he showed me Manchester, we went to dinner together, or we cooked together, he introduced me to his brother Ivan, everything was just so beautiful. We talked a lot, and we had deep conversations at night in his living room. He opened up to me, he told me some of his secrets, and he talked about his fears. I was very honored that he saw a close friend in me.

But I had a feeling I couldn't get rid of. Ruben was a very attractive and handsome man. I know I said that before, and I'm gonna say that again. If there's an attraction between a man and a woman, you can't be friends in my opinion. I tried to come up with other thoughts or convince myself that he wouldn't be so attractive, but that didn't work. Above all, Ruben has told me several times that he thinks that he has now found a best friend that he never had, and I don't want to break that feeling just because my pussy always gets wet when I see him.

He showed me some Instagram models that didn't even look like me that he's currently finding attractive. I mean, Ruben, he follows a lot of Instagram models, and he's also written with a lot of them and met a few of them, but he couldn’t imagine a relationship with them and those he thought might have been serious, turned out to be a gold digger. After a nice five days I spent with Ruben, it was time for me to leave Manchester and go back to London. I have taken a little break on Instagram while I was with him, so people wouldn't get suspicious of me meeting someone because when you have 5.6 million followers on Instagram this can happen fast.

I had to shoot content again and entertain my followers, so I packed my bag in the morning and Ruben was waiting for me so he could drive me to the station.

When we were in the car, I noticed a strange silence I'd never felt before between the two of us. Do you know that there are once pleasant silences and once unpleasant silences? And this was definitely an unpleasant one.

"Are you all right?", I asked him. He was looking at the road. "I'm fine. I'm just sad that you have to go," he said, turning his head to me for a moment. "I'm sad too, Ruben, it was nice five days, I had a lot of fun, maybe I can come visit you again, or you can come to London," I tried to cheer him up. He just nodded his head and kept on driving.

When we got to the station, he parked a little far away so he could get off with me. He took my suitcase out of the trunk and handed it to me.

"Thank you for coming, Y/N, I really appreciate it. You're a great person and I'm very happy to have you as my friend." I realized how emotional he got and sad. I hugged him and stroked his back. „Ruben this feels like a goodbye forever“ I said smiling at him. „It’s just that when I get used to a person I don’t want them to leave anymore. Please visit me again Y/N“ he said. „Of course Ruben! We’re in the same country. I can always hop in the next train and visit you. And if you should be in London again let’s definitely meet“. „Yes we should definitely do that. And the next time you should come visit my game and maybe I can introduce you to someone how you wanted to“ he said hitting my arm in a playful way. „You‘re really trying to set me up with someone huh“.

And with that we said our last goodbyes and I took my train back to London. I‘m so happy that I found a friend like him now.

#ruben Dias #ruben Dias x Reader #Rubén Dias x you #ruben Dias Imagine #ruben Dias fic #ruben Dias one shot #football fix #football imagine #football one shot #mancity #Manchester City #man city

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kittyball23 · 6 months

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Hey, Kittyball23,

I was wondering if you could post part 2 of "Taking the News"? Though, I am waiting patiently for it to post, and I gave you time to write the fanfiction I was hoping that you will post it whenever you're finished.

After you post it, can you write another fanfiction of the very SPECIAL DAY when Poppy and Branch's baby was BORN?! (Or maybe include a baby shower scene and a BIG CELEBRATION of their FIRST NEWBORN CHILD?!?! 🥰😁🥳🎉👶🎉) If so, I would be very grateful. ☺️ (Don't forget to include their friends and families as well.) If not, that's okay. I understand you have like a few other requests from others for Trolls fanfiction stories. But, I gave you plenty of time you needed.

Thank you. Sincerely, Ceci-Butterfly 🦋

Part 2 👇

Taking the News - Branch Edition (a Trolls fanfic)

Branch scrunched his nose, considering the fact that there were a number of better things to be doing than willingly being in the presence of a vomiting individual.

But, when that said individual was Poppy, he put aside the feelings of distaste as best he could and focused on making sure none of the rainbow-colored, glittery substance got onto her hair.

He held back the pink strands delicately away from her face and grimaced more than a few times at the combination of her retching, and just how much she had heaved.

While it had felt like forever, Poppy finally was able to get herself under control, and sat back with an exhausted sigh. Branch eyed her with a raised brow, and the Pop Queen felt sheepish upon the question that he presented.

“So… the stomach bug is all gone, huh?”

She fiddled with her fingers and looked down. “Um, well…” A nervous titter came out, and then she gave up. “Oops.”

Branch sighed. “It's not ‘oops,’ Poppy. If you were still sick, you could've told me. It hardly takes anything for me to go get you something to treat it. Dr. Moonbloom has plenty of supplies!”

“I know, Branch,” she said meekly, “I just didn't want you to worry…”

“You don't want me to worry?” he repeated incredulously. “Well, now I am. If this thing's not gone by now, it could be something serious!”

But to his surprise, Poppy was not as overly concerned as he would've figured. As a matter of fact, she got shy, and spoke her next words bashfully. “It's, um, not as serious as you might think…” Poppy almost wanted to laugh at the deadpanned expression he donned in that next second, but she knew better than to do so. He was clearly under the worst impressions of her health. Which meant it was finally time to come clean. “Look, Branch, there's something I have to tell you about… or, um, I guess I should say someone.”

Branch crossed his arms. “Okay, what exactly are you talking about, Poppy? What do you mean ‘someone’?”

“Oh, you know,” she said, attempting to sound matter-of-fact, “someone teeny and weeny, and cute as heck… assuming he or she comes out looking like you.”

Wait… what? Branch blinked, his brain making the connections it had to make in order to fully comprehend the situation and its full truth. The unexpected vomiting, the shyness in Poppy’s voice, the mentions of a mysterious ‘someone’ by themselves didn’t quite make as much sense as they did when he considered them all together. And, to add further confirmation for what he was coming to conclude, she slowly lifted a hand and allowed it to rest on her belly, her gaze shifting down at it first before it met his.

“Branch,” she whispered softly, “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I guess I just wasn't sure how, but, uh... I'm... um..."

"Pregnant," he finished, the tone in his voice mystified.

Poppy nodded. "Yeah."

Silence settled between them for what seemed like an eternity as Branch processed this. He supposed it made sense, with how, er… active he and Poppy had been in the more intimate aspects of their relationship. But still, the idea of becoming a father was rather jarring; one that left him wondering if he was ready for that kind of responsibility and commitment that he never figured would be in the cards for him in the first place! And yet...

I'm going to be a dad...

His gaze softened, and without thinking he reached out a hand toward her belly, where it still lay quite flat. He lightly brushed his fingertips over the slight swell that was there, the Troll marveling at the fact that it would one day be the very life that they'd created, running around singing songs like his (or her!) mother or crazily preparing like his (or her!) father. A perfect product, a wondrous blend between him and her that could only result from something as strong as their love. It almost felt surreal, like a dream. Like he'd suddenly been thrust into a completely new reality in which things went beyond what he thought possible, in the best way possible.

A soft sound escaped him, akin to a breathy chuckle, and his eyes glistened with moisture. The hand withdrew from Poppy's stomach to rest on top of hers instead, as a smile - growing increasingly wider upon his lips - pulled at his cheeks. "Poppy, I-" He cut himself off abruptly, unsure exactly WHAT he could say in this circumstance that could voice everything he felt at the moment. How excited he was, how proud, how honored he was for having been given the opportunity to experience such joy, and most importantly, how he loved her with every fiber of his being, even more than he could possibly go on to explain. However, the only thing he could seem to articulate in a simple, and rather dumbfounded manner was…

“Poppy, you're PREGNANT!”

And, despite the telltale chime of their bracelets that was usually indicative of Hug Time not ringing, Branch swept Poppy in for an embrace, his arms wrapped snugly around her waist, careful not to press too firmly against the abdomen carrying their precious bundle. Poppy giggled joyfully and returned the hug with a great enthusiasm, the bubbly feeling within her heart overflowing and making itself known through laughter and tears, neither one being able to be kept in check. "Oh, Branch," she cooed, her voice sounding slightly choked with emotion, "this is just so.... so...."

He lifted his head from where he'd nuzzled it against the crook of her neck to give her smirk, blue eyes twinkling playfully. "Fantast-amazing?" he suggested.

The mention of her sister's favorite phrase made Poppy gasp. "Oh, Branch!" she said again, this time with more urgency and excitement. "Viva! And John Dory, and Bruce, and Clay, and Floyd!" she spewed, each name tumbling out in a rush. "Oh my goodness, we should tell them!!"

Branch's face lit. "Yeah!" he was quick to agree, the elated mood that gripped him too much for him to contain.

"Uh-huh!" Poppy agreed. "But first - "

She interrupted herself, by grabbing him by the vest and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. Branch melted, obliging happily to her and relishing the sensation. For once he couldn't bring himself to fret over the sudden change in their lives, and all the worrying over the crazy preparations he would go on to make in order to ensure everything went absolutely flawless with their parenting. Branch simply enjoyed his moment of bliss as he let it flow through his entire being, letting him revel in the feeling of his and Poppy's euphoria.

Their family was going to get bigger, and he was beyond thrilled for what wonderful surprises lay ahead!

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #broppy #branch trolls #poppy trolls #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes #kittyball answers #brodacious fanfiction

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showtoonzfan · 1 year

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I will never forget the reaction I had when we first learned that Striker was hired by Stella to kill Stolas. It was an idea I never liked, it felt like pure fanfiction only a heavy Stolitz shipper would write to come up with heavy stakes, and it felt like a desperate attempt to demonize Stella so you could instantly side with Stolas from here on out, and forget his own flaws completely.

Again, Stella COULD have been a character who was a flawed mother, so blinded by her rage of being forced to marry or being cheated on and lost sight of what was important, but you’re clearly not supposed to sympathize with her at all. I really don’t understand how the writing wanted to be complex with a character like Stolas, how he cares about his family but wasn’t happy with his marriage, but then make his wife one note and evilly flat, all because of blatant favoritism and the fear of someone like Stolas actually being in the wrong for once and wrongfully hurting others around him. Stella deserves better writing. She deserves to be just as complex as Stolas, and even if you don’t want her to be sympathetic, that doesn’t mean you can’t write her in an interesting way, because she’s so boringly flat and her motivations are constantly all over the place and make no sense, especially since the show won’t even put the effort in to explore the relationship between her and her daughter Octavia, it’s so funny how this show is obsessed with Stolas’s family drama and yet NEVER bothers to show the point of view of the other family members.

It’s also clear that Stella won’t get any better from here, I think the episode 6 or 12 leak (I forgot which episode) of her and Andrealphus laughing at the fact that Stolas has been trying to call her daughter all month is proof that the writers have no intentions in making her interesting, sympathetic, or complex, and it really sucks guys. It really does. She’s just a tool for cheap drama and for Stolas to suffer because Viv LOVES drama expect when it’s a character actually getting the consequences of their OWN actions, not a Saturday morning cartoon villain, cause that’s all Stella is.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #anti vivziepop #helluva critical #stella goetia #helluva boss #vivziepop rant #vivziepop criticism #helluva boss Stella

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poppitron360 · 6 days

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I have a big big deadline coming up at work, and it’s been really stressing me out. However, instead of focusing on that (which is what I should be doing), my stupid, dopamine-chasing brain has been thinking about nothing but this singular piece of Valgrace fanfiction I’ve been working on for the past two weeks.

A lot of you requested to be tagged in it once it was finished so you could read it, based on this post that I made about it. So anyway:

@moonssong @lavenderfairiez @huntingrays @hazellevessque @onion-dishwasher @the-aro-ace-of-spades

Here you are. Go nuts.

Concept: Leo goes back to Texas after the War to get some closure on that miserable chapter of his life. Jason decides to tag along, but little does he know that this trip’s real purpose is to do more than just tie up loose ends…

CWs: Swearing, blood, lack of smut (they are teenagers)

I tried to write it so that it could be interpreted as a friendship thing if that’s what you want (although there is a lot of Staring Deeply Into Leo’s Sad Brown Eyes, and Holding Him Tightly In Jason’s Big Strong Arms). But no actual kissing or anything. I think “wanting to be there for someone” is a universal thing, so I tried to make it up to interpretation.

This is also FUCKING LONG (as this has been my main form of procrastination for the past two weeks), so you have been warned. Final Word Count: 5,934!

Valgrace Fanfiction: “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

Not sure on the name tbh. Lmk if you have any better ideas.

Leo took the window seat and Jason sat next to him. Jason watched as Leo leaned his head against the window of the bus and closed his eyes, breathing softly, his curly hair vibrating against the glass. There was no cheeky grin on his face. No playful twinkle in his eye.

“You look tired,” Jason mused.

Leo nodded, not opening his eyes, and breathed out almost inaudibly through his parted lips, the vapour from his breath making a circle of mist on the window. He looked utterly dejected. Jason examined his best friend’s features, taking in his sunken cheekbones, his pointed nose, his dirt-covered face. Only now did he realise how thin Leo was- his clothes hung loosely around his body, cinched in by his tool-belt and suspenders, but even those seemed disproportionately loose on his tiny frame. His arms and hands were bony, and covered in scars. Jason’s body was pushed up against Leo’s on the cramped bus seat, and he could feel the bones of Leo’s emaciated ribcage pressing against his side. He thought he truly saw for the first time that kid who had run away so many times, who grew up on the streets. He wondered how Leo had survived all those years alone- demigods weren’t supposed to make it on their own past thirteen, but Leo had been completely by himself for seven years. Jason couldn’t think what that might’ve done to him. What he’d been through. Leo never talked about the foster homes much, but Jason got the sense they had been rough- he had mentioned once about sleeping in a sewer. Jason studied the scars on Leo’s arm. He had scars too, they all did. But Leo’s seemed to tell a different story, more bleak and depressing, like he hadn’t always been able to fight back. There was nothing funny about that, Jason decided.

He reached out, and brushed a strand of curly hair away from Leo’s face. He didn’t flinch at the touch, and Jason wondered if he might be asleep, but soon he felt Leo’s hands slip into his, his bony fingers were gentle and warm to the touch- as if to say “I’m here. I’m okay.” His skin was rough and calloused, but Jason didn’t mind their lack of softness. He cupped Leo’s tiny hand in both of his own, as if to respond “I’m here too. It’s okay.” Leo’s fingers were completely covered by Jason’s big palms, and they wriggled against his skin, tapping out a strange arhymic pattern. Jason figured it was morse code, but he couldn’t translate it. He recognised the pattern as the same one Leo was always tapping out with those restless fingers.

“I can feel everything,” Leo whispered, weakly. His eyes were still closed. His voice was low and hollow and raspy, like it had lost all of its brightness. Something about the way he spoke had changed too- his vowels dragged out longer, his consonants became softer, more rounded. Jason could hear the warm tones of a hispanic accent seeping through, like Leo was too tired to hide it anymore.

“What?”

“The bus. I can feel all the machinery beneath us- the axels and pistons and gears and motors- it’s clouding my brain. No way I can sleep,” He explained.

Jason listened to the low hum of the bus engine as it bounced along the winding road. He imagined it must be a hundred times louder for Leo, who could sense every single moving part. He squeezed his hand sympathetically. No wonder Leo had trouble focusing all the time.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Jason asked.

Leo shook his head, his head still resting against the glass.

“Just promise me we’ll find a place to stop and rest soon,” He said.

Jason rubbed a thumb over the back of Leo’s warm hand. “Okay,” He assured him.

Leo nodded, softly.

They sat in silence, Jason watching Leo breathing. His brow would furrow with soft despair when the bus sped up, like the movement caused him pain. His breathing was shallow and weak, and Jason could feel his lungs expanding and retracting underneath his skin. Eventually, Jason rested his head on Leo’s bony shoulder and closed his eyes. His shoulder-blade was digging into his cheek uncomfortably, and the dirt and grime on Leo’s face was rubbing into his hair, but he didn’t mind. He breathed in Leo’s warm smell. He smelled like smoke. Woodsmoke, like a campfire. He smelled like the metallic aroma of rust and motor oil. It wasn’t usually a pleasant smell, but it smelled good on Leo. Just like the hardness of his rough skin felt good brushing gently against Jason’s palms. Everything about Leo was coarse and rough and dirtied, reflecting the gritty hardness of the forges and workshops he’d grown up with and surrounded himself with. Despite being so small and weak, Leo was by no means soft or delicate. Jason thought again about that little boy, skin and bones, growing up orphaned and alone. While Camp Jupiter had never really been caring or familial, it had still been there for Jason when he needed it. He’d always had safety, food, friends, a place to stay. Leo had had none of that. Suddenly, Jason felt a surge of protectiveness. He wasn’t gonna let Leo go through that anymore. He was gonna make sure Leo was safe, that he had food, friends, a place to stay. Yeah, you’re doing great at that so far, Jason thought, but he pushed the feeling down.

He leaned in closer to Leo and whispered in his ear.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Jason…” Leo whispered in return, “You know you didn’t have to come with me.”

“We’ve had this conversation, Leo. You shouldn’t have to be here alone.”

Leo tilted his head so that it rested against Jason’s instead of the window. He was silent for a long time.

“I… I’m glad you’re here, Jason.”

He really did sound tired.

Jason absent-mindedly traced the lines of Leo’s palm with his fingers. He heard the tires hiss and he sat up. They had arrived.

Huston bus station was about as grimy as Leo’s workshop, but with none of the charm or magic of it. It had low plasticky ceilings stained nicotine yellow, the grout in the cracks of the tile floor were peeling and cracking. Jason did his best to avoid a mysterious stain that looked suspiciously like blood, as Leo led him through the jostling crowd, pulling him by the arm. Once they were out onto the street, Jason nudged Leo’s shoulder to tell him to stop.

“Let’s find a hotel. I promised you we’d get you a place to sleep. We’ll talk game plan in the morning.”

It was hard to tell with the hot Texas sun beating down on them, but it was getting late.

“Yeah… I guess taking a sightseeing tour of the locations of the most traumatic moments of my life can wait until morning.”

The next morning came, heralded by the autumn sun.

“Can I just get these, please?” Leo handed the gum and the 6-pack of water to the man behind the kiosk. The tiny newsagent’s shop was empty except for them and a guy in the corner, looking at the chips.

“Hey, don’t I know you?” The shopkeeper asked.

Leo looked around nervously, “No, I don’t think so, partner. You might be thinking of that guy in the movies- Antonio Banderas. I’m told we look a lot alike.”

“No…” the guy said, squinting at Leo, “Wait- you’re that Valdez boy!”

A look panic flashed across Leo’s face, but he tried to keep his cool.

“Nah, man, you’ve got the wrong guy-“

“No- it is you. Boy, you’ve got guts showing your face here again. The police came ‘round asking questions ‘bout you, y’know? From what I heard, you burned down your mom’s machine shop and ran away. I’ve got half a mind to call the cops on you right now-”

He reached for the phone.

“No! Look- I don’t want any trouble, okay? Can we just buy these and go?” Leo’s eyes were pleading and desperate.

“You’ve got three seconds to leave my shop before I call the cops.”

“But-“

“GET OUTTA HERE, FREAK!!”

Leo ran. Jason ran after him, but not before turning and flashing his best raised-by-wolves death-glare at the shopkeeper.

“Hey-“ Jason said, finally catching up with him three streets away. Leo was a fast runner. “You okay? What that guy said-“

“It’s fine!” Leo said, his voice high-pitched and a little hysterical, “No big deal, just… no gum. That’s fine.”

Jason put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. He made his voice low and gentle, “Leo… this must be really hard for you. Talk to me.”

Leo shook his head, “We have to keep moving. Aunt Rosa’s house is this way.”

Leo led Jason through the busy Huston streets, twisting down roads and sidewalks. Suddenly, he turned a corner and stopped dead in his tracks so fast, Jason nearly ran into him. He was staring at a large brick building on the corner of the street. The sign above it read “Bookstore”.

“They… they rebuilt it…” Leo said.

Jason realised what he was talking about.

“This was your mom’s machine shop?”

“I c-can’t believe they rebuilt it…”

“Leo… it did burn down nine years ago,” Jason told him. Then, realising that that was probably not the best thing to say, he added, “I know this is hard. Do you need a minute?” After all, Leo had grown up here. Seeing his childhood home not only burned to the ground but rebuilt, totally erasing those moments, must’ve been torture.

Jason squeezed Leo’s arm comfortingly. Leo nodded, “Yeah… thanks,” he whispered.

Jason kept a respectful distance as Leo walked up to the building. He watched as Leo pressed his forehead against the bricks, his calloused hands gently caressing the stone, as if trying to remember the way it used to feel. He saw his fingers tapping out that message he always tapped. He saw Leo’s mouth moving, whispering silently to the building. After a while, he began to approach Leo, but then hesitated when he saw the tears in his eyes. But now, he was close enough to hear him. Leo was humming, softly. A sweet, lilting melody. He hadn’t noticed Jason was standing there. Jason watched as Leo drew a shaky breath, and began to sing.

Jason didn’t understand the words- they were in Spanish- but he could hear the roundness of the syllables, the way the vowels and consonants danced up and down, in and out. He couldn’t believe how right it felt, hearing Leo speak the language. Leo had a weird way of talking- the sentences would stop and start in jagged spikes, gliding rapidly right over full stops, and pausing right in the middle, like his brain was moving a thousand times faster than his mouth. His words felt odd and out of place. But now… Jason realised this was the first time he’d heard Leo speak Spanish at length- more than just a few phrases, under-the-breath insults, and frustrated cursing. He felt bad, eavesdropping on him when he clearly was never comfortable enough to speak the language around Jason, but man… it was beautiful. The sound of his voice was enthralling- tendrils of words wrapping around his chest and arms, softly caressing his skin. Jason felt warm inside, like he had just drunk a cup of hot chocolate on a freezing winter’s day. He wondered if Leo’s song had some sort of fire magic in it, filling him with comfort and homeliness, and a memory came back to him. Him and Thalia sitting at the hearth on Christmas day, watching the flames dance as they toasted marshmallows. The feeling didn’t flicker and die when Leo finished his song, either. Jason stood there, stunned as the last few notes hung in the air.

“Woah, Leo…”

Leo tuned, startled, snapping out of his trance. Something flashed in his eyes- Panic? Fear? Jason felt guilty. Leo was having a private moment, and he was intruding.

“H-how long have you been standing there?“ He asked.

“Just a few minutes. Leo, that was beautiful. Where did you learn-“

“A lullaby. My mom used to…” he trailed off, and looked at the building. Then, wiping his tear-stained eyes with the back of his sleeve, he said, “Look, can we go now?”

They stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the door of Leo’s Aunt’s apartment. Jason rubbed Leo’s back, reassuringly.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asked.

“You keep asking me that!” Leo complained, but his eyes shifted nervously and his fingers restlessly picked at the skin around his thumb. Jason grabbed his hand and squeezed it- “I’m here.”

Leo’s big brown eyes looked into Jason’s. He looked grateful for his company. Then, he let his hand drop as he walked up the steps and knocked on the door.

An old woman answered. She had Leo’s curly hair and dark skin, but unlike Leo, she was ugly. In a sort of cinderella-ugly-step-sister way. Her nose was hooked and pointed. Her mouth snarled and her eyes squinted into wrinkled crows-feet.

“Uhh… hey, Aunt Rosa,” Leo said, wringing his hands, nervously.

“Well, look who decided to come back,” the old witch sneered, “you’ve got guts, boy.”

She spat out the word “boy” like Leo was some sort of vermin. Jason felt anger bubbling up inside of him.

“Look, I just wanna talk. Maybe apologise? I’ve done a lot of thinking-“

Leo was cut short when the old crone started howling with laughter.

“What makes you think I’d give any attention to you, after what you did, Diablo?”

Leo took a step back, fear and hurt flashing in his busy eyes.

“It- it was an accident-“

Jason had been keeping his distance up until now, but he moved closer to Leo and put a hand on his back, staring at the woman defensively.

“Look, lady, Leo and I… we came all this way so that he could do what he needed to do to make things right. Do you know how much guts it takes to want to apologise and make amends, especially after how you treated him? Leo’s doing something brave here, and you should at least hear him out, you owe your sister that much.”

The old lady scoffed, and barked something to Leo accusatorially in Spanish. Leo backed away again, fearfully, mumbling a response. Jason only became angrier. He hated seeing Leo like this.

“Leo doesn’t owe you any sort apology whatsoever,” Jason growled, “And yet he’s still offering one. Even though it wasn’t his fault. Even though you treated him like shit!”

“Hey, Jason, maybe we should go-“

Jason looked in Leo’s eyes and mouthed, “Do you want to leave?”

Leo nodded, “Jason, please…” he whispered.

Jason hated seeing Leo so afraid and helpless. With one last glowering look at Leo’s Aunt Rosa, he guided Leo away.

“Freak! Diablo!” Rosa called, “Worthless, Satan Spawn, good-for-nothing-“

She didn’t have time to finish the insult. With one swift motion, Jason spun around and punched her square in her ugly face. She crumpled to the floor, moaning.

“Leo Valdez is fucking amazing,” Jason said, standing over the old woman, “You are fucking blessed to even be associated with him. You have no right to treat him the way you did. You know that it wasn’t his fault what happened, but you made him think that it was. You’re a fucking disgrace. Now, I wholeheartedly think that Leo should not apologise to you. But if that’s what he needs to do,” he looked over at Leo, and smiled, then looked back at the old crone, “then you’re gonna fucking hear him out, okay?”

She nodded, still rolling on the floor. Leo walked over and stood by Jason. He didn’t help her up.

“Aunt Rosa,” he said, and then paused for a moment, looking at Jason, and then looking back down, “Fuck you.”

Jason patted him on the back, and they walked away together. As they got further and further down the street, Leo stated sobbing.

“Oh, hey, no, it’s okay…” Jason assured him, “Sorry, did I-“

“You were great,” Leo said, “It’s just…”

He hugged his shoulders. Jason walked in front of him and grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop.

“Hey. Look at me. Don’t let what she said get to you, okay? She’s not worth it.”

Leo chucked, but the laugh turned into more sobs.

“Hey… hey… that was really brave, what you did.”

Leo dug his fingernails into his arm. He was hugging his right forearm close to his chest, hiding his scars from Jason that he knew for a fact were there. Jason wondered once again where they had come from. What their story was. But he didn’t dare ask. He pulled Leo into a hug, right there in the middle of that busy Texas street. Fragile, and shaking, Leo was a mess. But Jason held him, and stroked his hair, and whispered soft words of comfort.

“I don’t know what she has against Spawns of Satan,” Leo said eventually, “Nico and Hazel are lovely. It’s not really an insult.”

And there it was. The jokes. Leo took a deep breath, and Jason could practically see the mask come up. It had slipped away for those few moments while Jason held him, and he had caught a glimpse of that vulnerable, scared little eight-year-old boy. But now his defences were up. He had let Jason in for just a second, and Jason wanted so desperately to be let in again. To get to know the real Leo. To be able to comfort that little boy, maybe even help heal him. Bandage his bleeding scars.

“Next stop,” Leo said, “Mom.”

The cemetery was beautiful. Peach trees lined the gravel pathway, rustling in the late autumn breeze. Jason watched Leo closely as he walked down the path, scanning for the gravestone he wanted. Leo’s dark brown eyes caught the low light of the evening street-lamps. They reminded Jason those bugs stuck in amber you could buy in museum gift shops. He felt in danger of becoming like one of them, perpetually lost in that deep liquid gold. He could swim in them for eternity, preserved in beautiful stillness for all time. If those dark irises dared lock themselves on his, they would pull him under, and he would be trapped forever in perfect torture.

Leo turned a corner and trekked down a well-trodden path in the grass. He wove through the headstones until he found the one he needed.

Jason stood behind him, tapping his own fingers nervously on the back of his other hand. He realised he was copying Leo’s rhythm- he’d committed it to memory without even learning what it meant.

He watched as Leo knelt down by the headstone. The engraving on the headstone read “Esperanza Valdez, beloved daughter, wonderful sister. You will be missed.”

Jason noticed with another surge of anger that the epitaph did not say “mother”. Leo had been cast out by his family, and the hard work and sacrifices his mom had made to raise him weren’t even recognised on her gravestone.

“H-hey, mom…” Leo said, trying to keep a cheery note in his voice, “How’s it going? Good? Good.”

He kept talking to the stone, commenting on small things like the weather, how his day had been, what he had for breakfast (he’d lied and said oatmeal, but Jason knew he hadn’t eaten anything that morning). Jason could see he was desperately trying to keep it together, not wanting to let his walls down again. Eventually, Leo turned to him.

“Hey man, there’s something I gotta do. Alone. Can you just maybe… I dunno… wander ‘round the shops for a bit? I’ll come find you once I’m done.”

His eyes were dull and unsaturated in the cold light of the evening. He looked at the headstone with something other than just grief- purpose. But not the twinkle Jason saw when he had an idea for an invention. A sort of quiet resolve. It was unsettling.

Jason didn’t want to leave Leo on his own. He moved closer, reached up, and touched Leo’s face. He took off Leo’s mask, and looked at the broken boy behind it.

“I… I…”

Suddenly, Leo crumpled to the ground, sobbing. Jason caught him. He held Leo’s trembling arms in his firm grip. The underside of his arms were covered in a patchwork of faded scars. Jason caught another glimpse of that boy- the runaway, helpless and alone. He imagined those scars freshly bleeding, no-one there to clean the cut or dry his tears. It was that boy that stood in front of him. That boy that crumpled to the floor sobbing at Jason’s feet, as he held his arms tightly in his strong grip.

“I’m sorry…” The boy said, his voice small.

Jason crouched down, letting go of one of the arms and putting a hand under his chin, forcing him to look up. His big brown eyes were watery with tears, filled with sorrow and remorse and fear.

“The… the reason you came here,” Jason said, slowly, “Was not to visit your Aunt Rosa, was it?”

Leo didn’t meet his gaze. Jason’s hand dropped from holding his chin, and Leo looked down at his hands, one still clutched in Jason’s own.

“A ritual…” Leo said, “I found it in a book at Camp… I… I could fix my mistakes.”

“By bringing your mom back?” Jason guessed.

Leo shook his head, “My mom’s gone. Nothing’s gonna bring her back… but I’d be able to get rid of the thing that killed her.”

Jason grabbed Leo’s shaking shoulders, his grip firm, yet gentle. He touched Leo’s cheek with his other hand, his fingers lightly grazing his skin, hurriedly trying to commit it to memory.

“Leo, you mean you’re gonna-“

Leo shook his head. “Not that. My powers,” he explained, “If I give them up, I might be able to reconcile for what I did. I could be at peace.”

He looked up at Jason, his eyes so full of anguish and hurt it made Jason’s heart break.

“I never lied to you, Jason. I did come here to get closure.”

Jason held Leo’s tiny, shaking body against his.

“Leo, it wasn’t your fault, okay? You have to believe me when I tell you it wasn’t your fault.”

“I lost everything in that fire, Jason. These powers have cost me so much.”

“Leo, please believe me,” Jason begged, “You don’t deserve to hurt yourself like this.”

Leo didn’t respond. Jason realised that he was afraid. Afraid of himself. Afraid of hurting others. Afraid of his power, despite all the good it had done, despite all the times it had saved Jason’s life. Leo only ever saw all the bad it did. Why couldn’t Leo would see himself the way Jason saw him- brave and good and kind? Then he remembered Aunt Rosa- the way Leo had backed away from her, afraid and guilty. The way she had reduced Leo to a small-voiced child with just a fierce glance. Jason couldn’t even imagine what it must’ve been like having her as your only family. He figured the foster homes hadn’t been much kinder to Leo, judging by the assortment of scars across his skin. And the shopkeeper- how Leo’s eyes were desperate and panicked, how he had ran from that place, how the man had yelled at him so fiercely. If Leo’s powers were responsible for doing all that to him, Jason didn’t blame him for wanting to get rid of them. Jason did want to get rid of them- nothing that hurts Leo like that should ever be allowed to continue existing.

He hugged Leo tighter.

“You know I can’t let you do this, Leo. It’s dangerous. I mean, if it’s never been done before… what kind of side effects might it have? Will it just get rid of your fire or your other abilities as well?”

Leo shook his head, “I’m still a son of Hephaestus. That would never change. But the gift… curse… whatever he gave me- that’ll be gone. It’s served its purpose now, so The Fates will allow it. But I can be a normal demigod.”

Jason was pretty sure the words “normal” and “demigod” had never been used side-by-side before.

“Leo, these powers have saved my life so many times. All of our lives. You can’t just… by letting them go, you’d be erasing all the good that you’ve done. Please, try to see my point of view. I don’t want you to do something you’d regret.”

“It’s my decision, Jason. My whole life, I’ve wished I’d never gotten these powers. I don’t care if I can use them to help people- I don’t want to risk hurting anyone else,” Leo looked down at the gravestone.

Jason remembered the warmth Leo had filled him with when he had sung his mom’s lullaby. The joy and happiness he had felt. That wasn’t bad. That couldn’t have been bad.

“Leo, you can’t do this.”

“You’re not changing my mind, Jason.”

And Jason knew he was right.

“If this is what you need to do, Leo…” he whispered, softly, “Then I’m not gonna stop you. But there are better ways. You don’t have to do this.”

“But I do. You don’t understand, Jason. You never knew your mom. I had something, and then it was taken away as a result of my own mistakes. That’s worse than never having had it in the first place.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Jason snapped, “Leo, I get it. You’re hurting. And I want to be here for you. I really do. This whole trip-“

He stopped and took a deep breath.

“This whole trip, I’ve been trying to make myself a safe space for you to open up to me. For you to let down those walls, let me in, let me see you,” he took Leo’s hands in his, “Because what I want more than anything right now, is to see you, Leo. The real you. Behind the jokes, and the smiles, and the “everything is fines”. I can’t bear to stand by and watch you do something I know you’d regret, but if this is what it takes to gain your trust, then I’d do it. For you.”

He knew this wasn’t right. He knew Leo was making a really bad choice, and Jason saw no future where he didn’t live to regret it. Leo would not be at peace. He would still be weak and afraid, just now he would also be powerless. But he knew he couldn’t stop Leo. And he couldn’t let him do it alone, he just couldn’t. Leo had been alone his whole life, and Jason couldn’t abandon him when Leo needed him most. And Jason wanted to be with him. Be there for him. He wanted to see that little boy again. But it shouldn’t be about what he wanted. Deep down, Jason knew he was being selfish.

With shaking hands, Leo reached into his backpack and brought out a thick leather-bound book. Jason recognised it as the kind of thing they kept on the bookshelf of the Athena cabin. Leo opened the tome, and flicked through until he found the page he needed. His dark eyes scanned the instructions, then he reached into his backpack again and brought out a knife and a vial of glowing red liquid, and set them both on the grass in front of him.

“Leo…” Jason said, looking at the knife.

“It needs my blood for the ritual, Jason,” Leo said.

“So, you’re really going through with this?” Jason asked, not meeting those eyes of amber.

Leo didn’t answer right away, just studied the book, knife, and vial in front of him. He studied his mother’s grave, tracing the name “Esperanza” with his eyes.

“I… I don’t…”

Jason put a hand on Leo’s cheek, forcing him to look his way.

“Leo, it’s okay.”

Leo tried to hold the glass vial steady to drink it, but his hands were shaking too much. Jason gently took it from his grasp, and held it up to Leo’s lips. This is a bad idea, he thought, but it’s for Leo. It’s what he wants. Jason poured the weird red stuff into Leo’s mouth, and Leo did his best to swallow it down. He shivered.

Leo sat back on his knees, facing the gravestone. He took the knife in shaking hands and dragged it across his palm. He whimpered in pain as the blood seeped out of the cut and down his wrists. He collapsed on the ground, his hands out in front of him, digging his fingers into the dirt. Jason watched as, sobbing, Leo read aloud the words from the book. Jason didn’t understand Ancient Greek, but he got the gist. This was some serious magic going on. Leo screwed his eyes up in painful concentration, repeating the chant over and over. His fingers dug deeper into the ground, and his hands caught fire. Jason took a step back as the fire grew. Leo cried out.

But then, the fire sank back to a flicker, then it was gone. Where it had been, tendrils of red, orange, and gold light were coming from Leo’s fingers like tree roots, spreading into the dirt. They wrapped around his mother’s headstone- making it look overgrown with flame-coloured vines. The light glowed brighter and brighter, and as it did, Leo’s breathing got shallower and weaker. Eventually, the light became so blinding white that Jason had to avert his eyes. Then he heard a grunt, and the sound of a body hitting the soft dirt. Jason turned and saw Leo lying on the ground, shivering. He ran over and scooped him up in his arms. Leo’s skin was cold to the touch- colder than Jason had ever felt on Leo before. His cut hand was stained with grass and mud.

“Leo!” Jason called.

He didn’t answer. He was unconscious. Leo inhaled, shakily, and his breath was sharp and painful. Jason could only hold him.

Eventually, Leo opened his eyes.

“J-Jason?” He said, weakly.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked.

“Are… are people this cold usually?”

Jason laughed. He couldn’t help himself. He hugged Leo tighter.

“Did it work?” Jason asked, after a minute.

Leo shakily got to his feet. Jason kept a hand on his waist to steady him. Leo held out his hand, and closed his eyes in concentration. Nothing happened.

“It worked,” he said. He wasn’t smiling. Jason realised that Leo didn’t want to lose the powers either, but was doing it because he thought it was for the best.

Leo fished a cigarette lighter out of his tool belt. He flicked on the flame, and held it underneath his palm. Jason grabbed Leo’s wrist and yanked it away from the fire.

“Careful,” Jason said, “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’d prefer to find out if I’m still fireproof or not now, rather than in a life-or-death situation,” Leo reasoned. He moved to put the lighter under his hand again. Jason didn’t stop him, but he wasn’t happy about it. Leo gasped in pain as the flame blistered his skin. He yelped and dropped the lighter. Luckily, the flame went out before it hit the grass. Leo nursed his burned hand.

“Ouch,” he said, “That… that was…”

Jason knew what Leo must’ve been feeling. He had never been burned before. He had gotten a taste for the first time of how his mom must’ve felt in her final moments. That tiny burn on his hand adding to the many, many scars.

Leo was shivering. “Seriously, why is it so cold?” He said. Jason wrapped his arms around him, still getting used to Leo’s newfound lack of radiator-ness. For once, Leo had to depend on Jason for warmth. Only now, did it occur to Jason the gravity of what they’d done. Leo would never summon another fireball to save Jason from certain death. Jason would never roast a marshmallow over his best friend’s head again. He no longer had an excuse to cuddle up next to him on cold winter nights (not that he wanted to cuddle Leo for any reason other than for warmth). Jason would never watch in awe as Leo stoked the forges with his bare hands. Leo was normal now, but was normal necessarily better? Jason had never thought so, but then again, he had always been revered- held aloft on a golden shield, praised as a leader- for the abilities he had inherited.

Jason knew about the bullying at Camp. After Leo had revealed his powers to Cabin 9, the rumours had spread like, well, fire. His siblings had been supportive, but the other cabins not as much. Jason knew Leo hated the looks he’d get at mealtimes, so much that he often hid in Bunker 9 to work on the Argo II. He’d get nasty comments, people calling him a freak and an arsonist, and he’d tried to downplay how much it had affected him, but Jason knew. The worst were the fights. Leo just curled up on the ground and lay there while the other campers pummelled him. Jason had begged him to fight back, he knew Leo could hold his own, but Leo had just looked down sadly, and said, “I can’t fight back. I don’t want to let myself go. I don’t wish the fate of my mother on anyone, even those fuckers.”

No. Normal was better for Leo. Safer.

“Let’s go,” Leo said.

“Back to the hotel?”

“No. Bus station. I’ve got what I came for now. I don’t ever wanna see this place again.”

He turned to the gravestone, and traced his mother’s name with his fingers, ‘Bye, Mom.”

Leo took the window seat on the bus ride back to camp. He did not rest his head on Jason’s. He did not hold his hand. He just sat, looking sadly out the window as the entire state of Texas passed by them.

“Can I ask you something?” Jason said.

“You just did,” Leo replied.

“Why Huston? I mean, I thought you told yourself you’d never go back there.”

“The ritual required a place that was meaningful to the person performing it.”

He didn’t offer any other explanation, and Jason decided not to push it.

“Jason… can you not tell the others what happened here? They’d freak. I just… I can’t deal with having to explain my choices to them. Not right now.”

Jason hesitated for a moment, but then said, “Of course, Leo.”

Leo still wasn’t meeting his gaze.

“It’s funny…” Jason said, “We started this chapter of our lives on a bus. We’re ending it on a bus…”

Leo began to cry.

“Oh… oh no, sorry, Leo, I didn’t-“

Leo hid his face in his hands. Jason tried to touch his shoulder, but Leo shrugged him off. They stayed like that- Jason helpless as Leo sobbed.

Jason had tried to get closer to Leo. He had tried to see through that mask. He had hoped that letting Leo do what he needed to do might make Leo let him in. But Leo still pushed him away. He might always push him away. Leo rubbed his eyes with the heal of his hand, and resumed looking out the window.

And a little part of Jason died inside.

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honeybeefae · 1 year

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Hi lovely,

Congrats on 2K, so happy for you!!!! I really loved the Eris starfall prompt you did a while back, woudl you consider writing another Eris starfall piece (not picky about what's in it, go wild <3)?

love,

anon

(p.s. this is health issues anon, I've fully recovered thanks to bedrest and the magical medicine of Dr. Ben and Jerry, and thank you for giving me the fanfiction to rebinge ever since I joined the ACOTAR fandom you were one of my first favourites and it's stayed)

(This was so cute to write and I literally was kicking my feet and giggling the entire time. I hope you enjoy it and I am SO happy to hear you are recovered fully and I'm kicking my feet again about me being one of your favorites thank you sm that means so much <3 <3)

Starfall Wishes (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

WARNINGS: None, pure fluff :)

“Stop moving, I’m almost done!” You chastise the little girl in front of you as she wiggles from side to side. She’s practically vibrating with excitement as you pin the last emeralds into her hair, making sure everything was in its place before you turned her around to face the mirror.

“Wow…” She gasped, standing up on the chair to admire the way her dress shimmered and shined. “I look just like you, mama!”

“I think you are far more beautiful, Scarlett.” You smile lovingly, helping her off the chair. “I think your daddy will think so too.”

“I can’t wait to see him! He promised me a dance!” She said gleefully, bounding out of the bedroom and towards the door. “I can’t believe I finally get to come with you! And I get to see Nyx and Valerie!”

“It’s going to be a big night.” You nod along as she continued raving about the party, barely stopping to take a breath. “Are you sure you can handle staying up this late? Our ride was long this morning.”

“I’m fine, I’m not a baby,” Scarlett said with a huff, crossing her arms and pouting. “Can we go now? I don’t want to be late!”

“You need to learn patience, my love. We are a few feet from the party so I doubt we can be late.” You point out while fixing your lipstick, sighing when she starts tugging on your skirts.

“I can hear Nyx and Valerie playing already!” She whined, already on the verge of a meltdown as you rolled your eyes and slid on your heels. The sun had already dipped past the horizon and you realized that Eris was still nowhere to be seen.

“Do you know where your father is?” You asked her, rubbing your temple when she shrugged her shoulders and opened the door. “I suppose he will be late once more.”

The trip to the balcony was short and you barely had enough time to open the door before Scarlett ran past you and into the arms of her two friends. Nyx was growing up as handsome as his father with the kindness of his mother, his little smile making you wanna pinch his cheek as he gave you a wave.

Valerie was a spitfire all on her own. She had Cassian’s wings but the rest of her, save for the curly dark hair, was pure Nesta. She was the ringleader of the three musketeers as you called them. You gave her a nod as she passed you by, offering you the same as the trio immediately went to the food.

“I think they have the right idea.” Feyre chuckled as she wrapped you in a tight hug, your large belly bumping against her own. It had been quite a shock for both of you to find out you were pregnant again so soon, especially simultaneously, but it seemed to have brought you closer.

“Right? I swear I’m carrying twin boys with the way I’ve been eating.” You grinned, smiling at Rhys as he came up behind Feyre and pulled her into his body. “I see your belly hasn’t gotten in the way of you two.”

“It could never,” Rhys smirked, kissing her ear and making her giggle. “I see your mate is not around. Is the High Lord going to skip out on you once again?”

You frowned and looked towards the door. “He wouldn’t miss Scarlett’s first Starfall. It’s all she’s been talking about for months.”

“Of course, of course.” He assured, though you could hear the tension in his voice. “I’m glad they all have each other to grow up with. Nyx adores Scarlett.”

“Scarlett feels the same.” You say while turning your attention back to your daughter. “She’s recently asked if he and Valerie can come on a hunting trip with us.”

“I don’t know if I trust the lot of them with weapons just yet,” Cassian said, coming out of nowhere with Nesta by his side. “Valerie has been eyeing our blades for a while and I cannot lie, I’m slightly afraid of that.”

“I seem to recall you having the same reaction when I train with you, though I think it’s because you get knocked on your ass every time.” Nesta snickered, her eyes warm as Cassian rolled his eyes at her dig.

“Like mother like daughter.” He replied with a smile, red siphons glowing as the sky grew darker. “Is Eris not coming?”

“He is.” You said a little too quickly, placing a hand atop your bump as you tried not to stress. “He must have gotten caught up with something.”

“Do you want us to go look for him?” Rhysand asked, noting your anxious stance. “I’m sure he’s fine but we can find him with ease.”

Your mouth twists upwards in contemplation, looking around the party once more before shaking your head. “I don’t want you to miss it. He knows where he is supposed to be.”

“Right by your side, as always.” Eris’s smooth voice purrs into your ear, making you jump in surprise. You turn to face him and lightly slap him on his arm, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“You are late, sir.” You say through your teeth, nodding towards Scarlett. “You almost missed her first Starfall. She even picked out a dress to match mine.”

Scarlett turned when she heard him, her face lightening up in happiness as she abandoned whatever game they were playing to leap into her father's arms.

“Daddy, daddy!” She squealed as he swung her around once, hugging his neck as tight as she could. “Look at my dress! It’s just like Mama’s!”

“You look beautiful, my little fireheart.” Eris cooed, kissing her cheek and setting her down. “As beautiful as Mama.”

A blush crept onto your cheeks as he pulled you to his side, Scarlett running back to Nyx and Valerie. You closed your eyes as he kissed you softly, his hand on the small of your back.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I had to stop and get a gift for you.” He smirked, dodging another playful slap.

“We said no gifts, Eris!” You huffed. “I didn’t get you anything because I thought we were in agreement.”

“You’ve gotten me two of the best gifts I could ever want, besides you of course.” He replied while rubbing your belly, his gaze turning tender as he went from the baby in your stomach to Scarlett. “You’ve gifted me something I can never repay.”

A brief flash of light had a hush falling over the crowd, everyone turning to look out into the sky. You reached out your hand to Scarlett and she happily took it, giggling when Eris lifted her onto his shoulders so she could get a better view.

The flash was soon followed by more until the entire sky was raining stars. It never got old as you stared in wonder, one of Eris’s arms wrapping around you so he could kiss your temple.

“This is amazing,” Scarlett whispered above the two of you, her amber eyes wide with disbelief. “Daddy, could you get one for me?”

“Anything for my girl.” He immediately replied, patting her knee as he winked at you. If someone had told you years ago when you had first met Eris, that he would be a fun-loving, smiling father you would’ve laughed in their face.

His life had shaped him into someone who was hard to understand, someone who rarely showed affection outside of you, but starting this family with him had completely changed him in the best way possible.

“Could you get me one too?” You smiled, gazing up at him in utter devotion and love.

Eris looked down at you, taking in the curve of your lips and the color of your eyes. Your beauty constantly took his breath away and tonight was no different. He never thought he could have this, have a family with you.

“Anything for my girl.” He repeated, resting his chin on your forehead as you wrapped your arms around his stomach and laid your head on his chest as the stars danced around your little family.

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