#must have been feeling lazy when i wrote it

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Life Lessons || CL16

Summary: After an embarrassing secret is shared Charles accepts some help to learn a few things about female pleasure.

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fem rec oral, sex ed

WC: 2.9k

Charles - The Lazy Lover - Leclerc. That was what the wag gossip pages all shared in their stories and Charles’ cheeks grew red with embarrassment as he read the latest caption. The supposed ‘inside source’ had recounted the disappointment his past girlfriends had found in Charles’ bedroom activities. They cited him as ‘vanilla’ and ‘a missionary man’, but none of those hurt more than the sentence that described his oral capabilities as ‘nonexistent’.

He didn’t think he was bad in bed, and he wouldn’t have called himself selfish, but he couldn’t help asking some of his exes for the truth. Each of them denied sharing the information to the gossip pages, but they all replied with the same consensus.

Charles chased his own pleasure and they didn’t feel comfortable telling him what they needed to reach their own high too. He felt guilty, wondering how many of the relationships would have ended differently or not ended at all if he had paid more attention - to their sex life as well as the rest. He certainly hadn’t been the most attentive in any aspect of his last relationship with Alexandra.

“Don’t laugh,” Pierre started the conversation seriously, something that immediately caused concern for Charles. “I know someone who knows someone that can help you. She’s a private tutor, of sorts.”

“Do you know how fucked I would be if news broke I went to a hooker?”

“She’s not a hooker,” Pierre assured him as he wrote an address down on a napkin and slid it across the table. “It's already taken care of, 8pm tomorrow.”

Charles looked at the address and sighed. “This is in Paris.”

“Of course, City of Love, my friend.” Pierre finished his coffee and rose from the table, pushing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Charles mumbled, still uncertain about the whole idea of having a stranger teach him how to be a better lover. “I guess.”

Later that afternoon, Charles received an email with a rather detailed questionnaire about his experiences in the bedroom as well as a small dining and drinks menu to select from. He figured he couldn’t be any more embarrassed than he already was and took his time to honestly answer the questions.

—

Charles debated turning around at least three times as he climbed the stairs in a modern apartment building. He had caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower from the stairwell window and paused as the lights danced along the metal, wondering if he was in the right place. He was still in half a mind that Pierre had sent him to a brothel, but this didn’t fit the stereotype he had in his head of a Parisian whorehouse. He definitely imagined more Moulin Rouge lighting and seedy alleys.

He reached the 3rd floor and found only one door on the landing, his finger barely able to aim for the doorbell with its shaking. He didn’t know what to expect when the handle started to turn, but it certainly wasn’t a bright welcoming smile and the delicious smell of fresh baking.

“Hi, you must be Charles,” you greeted your newest client. “Come in, please.”

You could tell he was nervous as he hesitantly stepped inside and his eyes scanned your home, taking in the artwork on the walls and the candlelit table with two place settings. You tried to ease his mind with a quick introduction about who you were while you poured him a glass of wine.

“Help yourself,” you said as you took a seat and waved a hand to the fresh bread and cheeses he had selected from the menu. He took a breath and sat down opposite you, the candlelight catching the sharp jawline and angular features of his handsome face. “So, Charles, what is your goal? What do you want to get out of this?”

“I, uh, to be able to please a woman?”

“You don’t sound sure,” you teased as you watched him spread an olive tapenade over the fresh toasted bread.

“No, no, I am,” he said a little more forcefully before sighing. “I didn’t realise I was…bad…in bed, until recently.”

“Well, rest assured, we will change that. But first, tell me a bit more about yourself, there’s only so much I can learn from the questionnaire.”

—

Charles began to relax the more he shared. He knew he was protected by the NDA you had sent with the rest of the paperwork and the anonymity that came with baring his ugly truths to a stranger helped to ease the discomfort of what he was doing. He still wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but your encouraging smile kept his words flowing, like he was finally doing something right.

He hadn’t realised how quickly time had passed until the grandfather clock in the entrance chimed the hour and he saw he had eaten his fill of the meal he chose.

His overnight bag still waited on the hall table, the list of what to bring had been ticked off and double checked. His calendar had been cleared for the weekend and his phone turned off. Everything he needed to remember could be jotted down in the small journal that sat beside his used cutlery.

“So, um, what happens next?” he asked as his eyes darted to the bedroom door.

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, Charles. Come,” you rose from the table and grabbed his bag, taking it to your bedroom as he trailed behind. His feet rushed before slowing down as he caught his own eagerness and frowned to himself. It was common. There was a blurred line between of uncertainty on whether they were here to get laid or here to learn.

You placed his bag beside the large desk that covered one wall of your room and pointed to the computer chair where he took a seat. “Every woman is different and there isn’t a universal button to make us come. But, by understanding the physiological functions and anatomy, I will teach you the tools to find the right spots to make her fall apart.”

“A-anatomy?” he stammered.

You took a step back and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor and bare your nakedness. His eyes widened and he swallowed deeply as he drank in your body. A soft breath fell from his parted lips when you climbed onto the desk and spread your legs either side of him. “I could show you a textbook, but I find this much more effective.”

His throat bobbed as he tried to keep eye contact and the act brought a little laugh from your chest, forcing him to look at your breasts bouncing with it. “You can look, in fact that is exactly what this first lesson is about. Look, Charles.”

His eyes closed but when they opened he was staring at your core, his chest inflating with his deep breath. “Do I just start?” he asked hesitantly, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Just look for now,” you said with a smile as you reached down your body. “Everyone has erogenous zones, places that feel good when stimulated, and these can be found all over your body, men and women. Thumbs, wrists, behind the knees, inner thighs, neck. Simply kissing and sucking these spots can feel just as good as foreplay.”

“Really?” he eyes widened in surprise and his eyes scanned all the places you had mentioned.

“Really, and I want you to find mine.” You bared your throat and relaxed back on your elbows. “You’ll watch for the physical reactions to confirm it. Deep breathing, moans, eyes closing, jaw slack, forehead pinched - they are some of the outward signs of pleasure.”

“Are you okay with this?” he asked as he found your bent knee the closest point to his lips and his tentative touch warmed your skin.

“I am, and I am pleased that you asked for consent.”

He smiled proudly at the praise before he lifted your leg and kissed the back of your knee, his eyes watching your face as he dragged his tongue along the tendon and crease. Your head fell back and he grinned. “There.”

“One,” you confirmed with a nod before he moved up to your thigh, trying the same thing with a kiss and a lap of his tongue. A giggle bubbled up and you squirmed away. “That’s just ticklish.”

“So not that one?” he double checked, and you shook your head. “Okay…”

The man was thorough and he made sure to find which ones were good for you and which ones weren’t. He paid attention to the signs and more than once he paused to jot down a note in the journal you had provided.

“You’re a good student,” you praised.

“I have a good teacher.”

You smiled at the compliment. “Would you like to explore lesson two tonight or rest? We have all weekend.”

His eyes gave away his answer before his lips did and you climbed off the desk. “Let’s start with the basics then. The first thing you want to do is make yourself comfortable. Craning your neck from where you lie between her legs isn’t comfortable and won’t encourage you to stay there if things take a little longer,” you explained as you moved into the bed and tossed him a pillow. “So, pop one of these under the small of her back.”

He looked at the pillow and shuffled forward. “Now?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, lifting your hips up so he could lay it in place. “Two things happen here, one, it lifts her hips higher for better access which your neck will be thankful for, and two, it tilts her pelvis down and makes it much easier to work her g spot.”

“I thought that was a myth.”

“Why don’t you find out?” you dared. “Did you clip your nails before you came?”

He looked at the short nails and wiggled his fingers with a nod. He had followed every instruction in the email.

“Good, the last thing you want is to accidentally cut a partner with a sharp nail. Now the technique most people find effective is palm up, one or two fingers, gently work your way inside - it’s all about timing, take it slow and build to begin. Once your fingers are inside, curl your fingers up and you’ll feel the tissue is softer, almost spongy. Massaging pressure over that stimulated the g-spot, and if you are good at multitasking you can then add pressure from the outside too. Just place a hand low on her abdomen, slightly above the pelvic bone - don’t press too hard though as it will push on her bladder. First though, you’d probably want to start with warming her up with some cunilingus, eating pussy.”

Charles hopped off the bed and grabbed the journal, quickly jotting down the instructions with quiet eagerness.

“You can practice if you feel comfortable,” you invited when he put the pen and page down.

“Uh, yeah, please,” he stammered as he knelt on the bed and shuffled closer.

You reached into the bedside drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube. “I don’t need this,” you said and he smirked as he saw the other outward sign you had explained - arousal - it already lubricated your slit with the thought of what Charles was going to do to you. “But you should always keep a bottle at home. All women are different, some are drier than others no matter how aroused they get. Or, it’s handy for other areas of play like anal, or even a sensual massage.”

You put the bottle back and settled among the pillows. “Use me, explore, feel the different textures and I’ll guide you if you need it. Remember to look and listen to the signs of pleasure.”

Charles nodded and settled between your legs, getting up close and personal with your pussy. His indecision held him frozen as he wondered where to begin so you offered some guidance. “Finding the clit is a good starting point and then exploring around it to find the sensitive spots. Lick, suck, kiss, try it all.”

Encouraged, he laid a tentative kiss on your slit, his eyes rolled up to watch for your reactions. Seeing nothing, he took aim and tried again, his lip brushing over your clit and a soft sigh reached his ears. More confident, his tongue flicked out and caught your clit making you jolt.

“Was that good or bad?” he asked with a frown.

“Both, that spot is very sensitive - think of the slit at the tip of your cock. When it’s primed and ready that feels amazing but straight off the bat it is a little shocking to the system. You’re in the right area though, so keep exploring.”

This time he circled his tongue around and your moan was louder. You could practically feel his smile on your skin.

“That feels good,” you hummed as warmth spread through your body and he reached up on his own initiative, massaging your breasts. “Oh, you’re a natural now.”

Inspired, he explored further, his tongue lashing along your slit, dipping into your cunt. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp so he delved deeper, fucking you with his tongue as a familiar tightening grew in your core.

“Now would be the perfect time to try to find the g-spot,” you murmured as you fought the urge to succumb to the pleasure, but the lesson wasn’t over.

His rhythm faltered with a fresh wave of nervousness and he pulled back with shiny swollen lips to drag his fingertips through the mess he had made. The slick digits started gently, dipping inside your cunt a little deeper each time until it met the resistance of his palm.

“Feel around for the different textures and then curl your fingers a little.”

He did as instructed and his lips parted in surprise as he felt the spot. “Oh, wow, I’ve never noticed that…”

Your laugh made your pussy clench and he chuckled as your walls tightened around his fingers. “I like that feeling,” he commented with a flirty smirk.

“I thought you would,” you said with a wink. “I also do lessons on male stimulation if you’re ever interested.”

“Like…gay?” he asked quietly, a frown starting to form on his brows yet it wasn’t a look of distaste.

You were intimately aware that he still had two fingers curled in your cunt but it was good that he felt comfortable enough to hold a conversation at the same time. “It’s about learning the male anatomy, like what we did here. Whether that knowledge is used for self pleasure or with a partner, male or female, that is up to them.”

He contemplated the idea for a moment before he remembered what he was doing and began to work his wrist, curling his fingers in sync so they dragged over that delicious spot. He watched your sordid reaction with fascination before he grew bolder, his tongue finding your puffy clit.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you moaned loudly as your pussy tightened in anticipation. He had read your body perfectly and flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit but this time you were primed and ready. Your orgasm began with a tingle through your hair, leading to a fine tremor that danced down your spine, it raced down your legs and curled your toes. “Oh, Charles!”

He moaned against your clit as his wrist snapped forwards and back, the wet sounds of your body filling the room as his fingers fucked you through the explosion. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around the digits and stars spotted your vision. Your head fell back into the pillows with a cry and liquid gushed over his fingers with the release.

Disoriented and overstimulated, you reached between your legs and placed your hand over his. “Please, too much,” you whispered with a hoarse voice and rough aftershocks snapping at your thighs. “That was so fucking good, Charles. I, I just need a minute.”

You threw an arm over your head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you waited for your heart rate to calm again. A small laugh bounced from your chest as you came down from the high and you finally had the strength to prop yourself back up on your elbows.

“That was perfect, Charles, you are a very quick learner.”

He was busy staring at his hand, your release coating his palm and running down his wrist. “So that’s what an orgasm feels like?” His brows pinched as he realised he had never felt that before.

“It’s what this one felt like. They can be different based on what areas are stimulated, the intensity, intimacy, lots of factors.” You could see he was still disappointed in himself for his previous ignorance and you sat up slowly, crossing your legs as you faced him. “Just because a woman doesn’t orgasm it doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the experience. Does a blow job feel good before you cum?”

He shrugged, still a little unconvinced. “Yeah.”

“See, forgive yourself and move on, now you know what to do for next time.” You carefully climbed off the bed on unsteady legs and offered your hand. “Last lesson of the night, aftercare.”

He stood up and froze, looking down at his pants. “Sorry, I kind of, uh, um…”

“Why are you sorry?” you laughed, drawing his attention away from the damp patch on his trousers. “You are meant to enjoy pleasuring your partner. Never apologise for that, Charles.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut

[boba-beom]

༊*·˚ nobody but you | KANG TAEHYUN

ᰔᩚ pairing: bsf!!taehyun x gn!reader

ᰔᩚ genre: oneshot; bsf2l, fluff, suggestive

ᰔᩚ warnings: intimate, confession, physical affection, kisses, makeout, petname; sweetheart, reader plays hard to get(?), taehyun carries reader at the end (he's a strong boy <3)

ᰔᩚ wc: 1.1k

ᰔᩚ a/n: happy 22nd birthday to the my first love out of five, kang taehyun <3 I was in my feels when I wrote this so enjoy :') song that inspired me this time: double take - dhruv

The crisp afternoon breeze tickles your lungs as you take a deep inhale before exhaling with a needed stretch. You make your way to the terrace of the airbnb that you and your best friend had booked for the weekend and you see him in his black sherpa fleece sitting in front by the glass panel.

"Hey, why didn't you wake me up? I overslept." You pull a chair and join him, scooting your seat close to him with no gap between.

"You looked too peaceful to wake up." He reasons.

The both of you are looking out at the empty beach, waiting for the waves to roll in until they fade out again, your arm linked with his but his hand rests by the inside of your wrist.

He begins skimming lazy strokes with his blunt fingernails up and down the inside of your wrist, gradually pushing up the hem of your sleeve for him to do so. The feather-like pressure only brought tingles up your forearm and to your shoulders, emitting a little shudder.

It was comfortable.

He continues his motions, as he hums a tune that's been stuck in his head, but you recognise it easily.

"I haven't head that song for ages." You speak up.

He hums. "Mhm, it's been two years since it came out. But it's timeless, I must say."

You nod slowly, smiling at his appreciation towards the artist and the song as he rests his chin on your shoulder, noticing the way the warmth of his breath fans across your exposed skin by your collar.

"You know," he starts, voice low by your ear, "I once learnt that other than your erogenous zones, the inside of your wrist up to the palm of your hand is just as sensitive."

"Mmh, makes sense why you like to do this. Who else do you do this to?" You tease, knowing that Taehyun would definitely tell you if there was someone in the picture, right?

"You know I don't do this to anyone else." He mumbles by your shoulder before placing a gentle kiss.

"You sure? What happened to that person you told me about awhile ago?"

"Silly, it's awhile ago because I'm no long interested in them." He finger quoted.

"So who are you interested in?" You turn to look at your best friend, faces only mere millimetres apart, waiting for his eyes to meet yours.

"You." He says, voice husky.

You retreat, sitting back as your face scrunches in disbelief, not entirely convinced that this beauty of a man chose you out of all the people he has been with.

All he does is huff out of amusement from your reaction. He's always loved that about you.

"You know you're the only one who I have eyes for, right?"

He kisses your shoulder again, this time his lips lingering and trailing up over the thin material of your long sleeved top until you felt his soft lips borderline crossing the neckline by the base of your neck.

"I beg to differ. You're bluffing, surely."

Taehyun grabs the side of your chair, swiftly turning it around so you're directly facing him, also shifting his chair to face you. He plants his hands on either side of the metal arm rests, leaning into you again, almost hovering, leaving a few centimetres between you.

"And if I kiss you, would that convince you?"

"I don't know, you could just be kissing anyone." You say nonchalantly paired with a shrug.

You've never felt so much attention on your lips, especially from Kang Taehyun himself. Only now you've seen him so focused on them, making the corner of your lips quirk up from the thought.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that otherwise I'd feel offended." He feigned a hurt tone.

You chuckle beneath him, and he melts at the sight of your smile that always caught him lacking.

"You have pretty lips, you know?" You say as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, moving your thumb so it brushes against his bottom lip.

"Yeah?"

Taehyun smirks at the gesture, sensing the playful tension now lost and replaced by something unnamed, something that is yet to be confirmed.

"I think you should kiss me if you think so." He whispers lowly, awaiting your response.

"I think I will." You say confidently, tugging at the collar of his fleece as you draw him closer to you.

As your eyes shut, the sensation of your lips colliding almost has you floating, both sighing into the kiss like you've waited for months on end. You bring your fingers up to mess with his hair, running through his wavy locks with the occasional gentle tugs.

He doesn't wait to rest a hand by the side of your neck and the other by your waist, squeezing the area for you to shift onto his lap without breaking the kiss. Your teeth clash from the movement, but they eventually mold together as you steady your arms over his shoulders.

The faint sound of the waves rolling onto the sand, clashing against some odd rocks on the beach is accompanied by the sound of both of your heavy breathing and Taehyun's gentle hums until he pulls away briefly.

"I like you. A lot. And only you." He says between chaste kisses. "God, it's always been you, sweetheart."

Just as you see the tips of his ears turning a blush pink under his brown locks, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. He was always so sweet to you, but this? Your knees felt like they buckled despite sitting comfortably in his lap.

"Really? I couldn't tell." Your playful smile returns to your lips as you continue to tease him, feeling the way he huffs again.

"I can show you then? If you want me to." His lips latches delicately on the skin of your neck, showering the area with lightly kisses that has your eyes shutting, focusing on the tingly sensation spreading like a wildfire.

You move your arms so they're hooked from under his arms, hand splayed and resting high on his shoulder blades, maintaining this closeness between your warm bodies. You experiment with a light scratch through his outerwear, yet you still manage to earn a low groan from him as you whisper in his ear.

"Please. I like you. I want you."

"Good. That was the only right answer." He chuckles lightly.

Catching you off-guard, he has one hand under your thighs and the other on your mid back as he stands, knocking back the chair with the back of his leg before carrying you back into your shared bedroom.

The bed unmade; pillows not by the headboard and half of the comforter hanging on the edge of the bed. But it was fine. You had a feeling Taehyun wouldn't mind a bit of a mess anyway — the mess not limited to just the bed itself.

taglist: @choiwrld @yjusei @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @https-yeonjun @lovejoshua @seolis-world @bb-eilish @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman (ask to be on the taglist! spreadsheet here)

for this post: @royallyjjk @f4iryfever

© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, alter or translate in any way or platform.

#k-labels #kflixnet #taehyun fluff #taehyun suggestive #taehyun scenarios #taehyun imagines #taehyun oneshot #taehyun x gn reader #taehyun x reader #txt fluff #txt suggestive #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt oneshot #txt x gn reader #txt x reader #happy taehyun day <3

[httpiastri]

lucky charm? – al12

arthur needs your support after the feature race in austria.

genre: fluff, comfort

pairing: gender neutral!reader x arthur leclerc (i think i used the female form of a french word, but that should be the only female mention)

warning: hmmmm none!

requested: yes!

author's note: hello hello! i had bigger expectations on myself for this but i haven't been able to write a lot these last few days soooo... anyways! please forgive me if i use the wrong terms when i wrote about the dams garage and drivers room and so on, i don't really know how it all works and where people are allowed to be haha! hope u enjoy<3

f2/f3 masterlist

you feel yourself being unwillingly pulled out of your sweet sleep way too early for your liking. you could just as well just turn over and fall asleep again; the combination of the soft mattress and the fluffy hotel covers could lull anyone into a deep slumber. but just as you’re about to relax again, you hear the shuffle of socks against the carpet, followed by a thud and a quiet swear word.

you open your eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the morning light seeping in through the messily closed blinds, before they find arthur standing by the edge of the bed.

his eyes fix on you too, a guilty look spreading across his face. “did i wake you?” he asks. “i’m sorry, i dropped my phone…”

he reaches down to pick it up from the floor as you shake your head. “it’s fine,” you hum. “good morning, love.”

“good morning, ma chéri.” he flashes you a smile as he scoots over to you, pressing a kiss against your forehead.

you shut your eyes again. “why are you up so early?” you ask. “didn’t we say breakfast at seven?”

“it is seven,” arthur chuckles, but just as you’re about to sit up and scold him for not waking you up in time, he speaks again. “don’t get up, i’ve already had breakfast. you can continue sleeping.”

you frown with your eyes still closed. “what’s that supposed to mean? why-”

“i’ve been called in for an extra team meeting. they want me to meet them there in 30 minutes.”

your eyes open again, looking at your lover now sitting right by you on the bed. he’s got a hint of sadness in his eyes, and he feels another sting of guilt pass through his body.

he still looks as handsome as ever, though, and you can’t help but to let your hand cup his cheek. “when did you get up? you must be so tired.”

he shakes his head, a slight smile adorning his features; half due to the concern in your voice, half due to the love he can feel even in your touch. “we went to bed so early, i’ll be fine. you can still get another hour or so in, though.”

you pout. “i can’t sleep without you.”

arthur’s pretty laugh meets your ears. “you had no problem falling asleep while i was brushing my teeth last night, amour.” he takes your hand from his face, intertwining his fingers with yours. “but if you really don’t want to sleep any more, you could get some breakfast and then watch me get ready in the garage.”

you consider the options for a moment. “maybe i will,” you say, squeezing his hand once.

he takes your hand up to his mouth, placing a few sweet kisses to your knuckles. "my lucky charm." even more kisses. "i do unfortunately really need to go now. but i'll see you on the track?"

you nod, looking up into his eyes. "good luck, darling."

your boyfriend leans down towards you to meet your lips with his. both of you are still sleepy and it's evident in the kiss because it's lazy and slow. yet, it's filled with so so much love. when you feel him starting to pull away, you place a hand by the back of his neck to keep him close. he laughs against your skin before he manages to leave your lips – his neck muscles are apparently stronger than your hands.

"i'll see you soon again, okay?"

"mkay."

and after one last kiss, he's gone through the door, leaving you all alone in the big bed.

arthur was, as usual, quite busy right before the race.

that meant that he didn't have a lot of time to spend with you, but by now you'd learned to enjoy spending time in the dams garage, despite how different it felt to the prema garages you visited last year. you followed arthur on the tv as much as you could during the race, while also having time to chat a little with the crew every now and then.

you found it funny how it seemed like arthur and his friend ollie bearman found each other even on the track, the two of them following their former teammate through the laps and even into the pit stops.

arthur came out on the track just before ollie, which made many of the dams workers cheer. but just a short while after they left the pits, it happened. one of the few things that was not allowed to happen.

in one of the turns, not even one minute later, one of his tires flew off the car.

arthur couldn't have done anything to stop it or make the situation better. it was in no way his fault, and yet, it had all of the worst consequences for him.

thankfully, there was no crash and the tire didn't hit another driver, so it wasn't really a dangerous incident. but when arthur gets up out of the car and you can tell he's uninjured, you still let out a thankful breath you didn't know you were holding. you know this is awful, as it is any time he's forced to retire out of a race, but at least he isn't physically hurt, which was the most important to you.

a couple of minutes later, arthur arrives back in the garage, where he receives a bunch of pats on the backs and compassionate looks from team members. you are still sat on a chair a bit further into the garage, wanting to give him some space instead of approaching him, but you watch his every move carefully. his dark eyes stay aimed on the floor and he doesn't give out much more than small nods to the people trying to talk to him. he's holding his helmet in one hand, his balaclava still on and helping cover what you assumed was a regretful look.

you were so sure he wouldn't notice you, but his eyes land on you just as his hand reaches for the door to his driver's room. you kind of expect him to give you some kind of reaction. a smile, a nod, anything. but just like to everyone else, he looks away.

as he's gone through the door, you feel some kind of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. you know it's not personal, but it still pains a little to think about him treating you just like everyone else.

you wait until the race is over and the staff is busy celebrating the other dams driver's podium before making your way towards the door. after knocking on it a few times, you can hear his voice from the inside, muttering something about leaving him alone.

"arthur, can i come in?" you ask, ignoring his request.

when he hears that it's your voice seeping through the cracks of the door, he's instantly on his feet, making his way to you.

when he opens the door, you're met by an exhausted face. the balaclava is off now, lines on his face still showing where the seams had been pressing for the long race. he steps aside to let you into the room and then closes the door behind you. he sits down on the couch and you take a seat right next to him, eyes never leaving his sad ones. he's looking everywhere but at you, though, feeling way too sensitive to take in the way that you were looking at him. with so much comfort, support, love.

"i'm really sorry," you say, voice low. "that sucked."

he nods, eyes moving to look down at his feet as he leans his elbows onto his knees. "shit happens."

you stop for a moment but then you decide to be brave, putting a hand on his shoulder. when he doesn't shrug it off, you begin stroking over his white fireproof shirt with your thumb, hoping to comfort him even the slightest.

"i just... felt like the pace was good, you know?" you nod, even though he isn't looking. "i was ahead of ollie, and he ended up in p5..." your hand moves to the back of his neck, softly rubbing up and down his skin. "i don't know, i just feel like i could've scored some points too."

"yeah, definitely," you hum at him. "you did really well, love."

one of his hands comes up to wipe over his face, before he finally turns to look at you. "thank you." a slight smile takes over your lips. "and thank you for being here."

"of course. anything for you, mon amour."

arthur leans towards you, molding his lips against yours. the kiss is a lot different than how he kissed you earlier this morning; it's soothing, tender, gentle. yet, it's filled with just as much love.

"sorry i wasn't your lucky charm like you said i am," you tell him once you pull away, faces still close enough to feel his breath on your lips.

his mouth curls into a smile before he kisses you again. "don't worry," he moves to give you a couple of pecks along your jawline. "i'll buy a new charm since having you around doesn't work."

you gasp, slapping his chest as a big, teasing grin lightens up his face. "hey!"

and when his wholehearted laughter fills the room, you smile, despite his insult just moments earlier. you smile because you know it's all going to be fine; you smile because after his next race, he will be smiling too.

#f1 #arthur leclerc #fluff #comfort #x reader #x yn #x y/n #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #fic #fanfic #blurb #drabble #imagine #al12 #x you #headcanons #boyfriend #romance #f2

[mirrormazeworld]

Silver, The Knight of Dawn and "Sole, Luna, e Talia"

A while ago I came across a tweet on X where the writer was disappointed because Silver's dad has the same face as Silver and accused twst for being lazy (and maybe some of you have been thinking this way as well). But here I have a feeling this is yet another subtle "Easter egg" as tribute to "Sun, Moon and Talia", a literary fairy tale in which it was an inspiration to the original Sleeping Beauty by Charles Perrault (which later Perrault's version is the main inspiration for Disney's Sleeping Beauty)

From the main story, particularly from Lilia's dialogue when he found and blessed baby Silver, Lilia said "The golden hair that shines like sunlight was caused by the blessings of the day" and Silver's hair turned to be silver colored as if it had been "lit by the moonlight with the night blessing"

"Sun, Moon and Talia" also has a similar synopsis to the Sleeping Beauty we know as this was what inspired the original "Sleeping Beauty"

However, it's widely known that most Disney fairy tales are from folktales all over the world. And those folktales are really dark that Disney must revise them so the animation would be acceptable and safe for children. (Like the Evil Queen in the original Snow White who danced wearing red-hot slippers in the prince's and Snow White's wedding until she dies for example). Sleeping Beauty is without exception, as its darker version, "Sole, Luna e Talia" tells about the "Sleeping Beauty" (Talia) who got r4ped while she was under the curse and gave birth to twins, which she named as Sun and Moon"

And of course twst also knew it wouldn't be appropriate if they wrote book 7 and included something about r4pe somewhere inside of it, so instead of writing the "Sun" and "Moon" as baby twins, they used the same baby (baby Silver) to represent both Sole and Luna with the changing color of his hair, and also purposely make both Silver and Knight of Dawn like twins, with Knight of Dawn represents as the "Sun" and Silver as the "Moon", even Silver's name was inspired from the moonlight itself.

Personally I admire how twst team revised a once inappropriate and dark folktale about a sleeping beauty that was r4ped by a lustful king becomes a story about family bond beyond time and blood ties that can make you cry...and I wish they will continue their work this way and exceed my expectations.

Cr: Screenshot translations by Otome Ayui

#twisted wonderland #twst thoughts #twst theory #twst silver #knight of dawn #sleeping beauty #twst analysis #twst theories

[f1nalboys]

confessional ; lester sinclair

Lester Sinclair x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT: 2280

WARNINGS: nsfw, no sex, priest kink, blasphemy, perverting the catholic faith etc, hands free orgasm, some nasty stuffs going down in the confessional, cumming in his pants, talk about sacreligious fantasies, corrupting lester teehee. not really proofread, based off of this thing i wrote

The confessional booth is dark and quiet. As Lester sits in the small wooden seat, his hands clasped loosely in his lap, resting on his robes, he ponders for just a moment if this is his true calling. He wonders if the other priests, all older, more experienced and devout, struggle with the thoughts he does. Lester has no time to think about it as he hears the confessional curtain slide open, the clinking of the eyelet rings against the pole having him sit up a bit straighter. 

His thumb runs over the rosary as he listens to the person settle into their side of the booth. Lester swallows heavily as he stares forwards into the wooden door, at the carved wooden statue of his Lord and Savior nailed to the cross, shifting in his seat. He knows the penitent cannot see him, that he is shrouded in darkness and separated by the old wood and lattice, but he knows God can see him and he must be careful. Careful with his thoughts, careful with his actions, careful with leading the flock to the path of righteousness. A hush falls over the booth.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” Lester’s eyes widen slightly and he can feel his pulse in his throat. He knew that voice, knew who it belonged to, and though he shouldn’t, he couldn’t help but put a face to the voice. Your image manifests in front of him, translucent, a mirage against the grain of the door. “This is my first confessional.”

Lester nods, forgetting for a moment the image of you is purely in his mind. He clears his throat, which was suddenly dry, and smooths the purple stole. “That’s alright. This is one of my first confessions too, y'know.” He says quietly, a lie, and he can’t help but feel the corner of his lips twitch at the sigh of relief he hears you let out. He wonders what you look like right now, if you’re in your usual attire or something different. It was later in the day, warmer than usual, and he has to clear his throat again to rid his thoughts of what that might entail. “Just… confess your sins and I'll do my best to help lead ya to absolution.”

“Thank you, Father.” You take a deep breath and Lester waits with bated breath, unsure of why he is so interested in what you will confess. The sins have always blended together. Adultery, drinking, gossiping, materialism, jealousy, lying; he’s heard every sin a thousand times over and not once did he ever feel invested past his holy duty. But this is you, the young lamb he was meant to protect. 

No, Lester thinks to himself as you begin to speak, the young lamb God was meant to protect. Not him. “I’ve lied to people before, dozens of times, just to get a better outcome for myself. I’m selfish, greedy, and gluttonous.” Lester hears the waver in your voice as you speak and he wonders for a split second if you knew by his voice that he was the one taking your confession. “I don’t pray everyday, I‘ve missed Mass many times due to laziness…” 

He waits as you trail off to see if you continue speaking. When the awkward silence hangs over the booth like a raincloud he speaks, doing his best to keep his voice calm and even. “Ask for absolution and I can give it to ya.” He says, his accent strong and comforting, his eyes still on the wooden door. He had been sitting on the small wooden seat far past comfort, but the pain and ache in his back was no longer felt.

“Please… can you grant me absolution, Father?” 

You speak right away, as if commanded by him, and your voice sends a shiver down his spine. You were eager to be forgiven, listening to his every word. He realizes that he could steer you wrong, he could push you towards darkness instead of the light, and that you’d follow. He swallows heavily, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. They snap open. The lust for power burned heavy in his heart; he could tell you whatever he wanted and you’d believe him. You would do anything if he said so.

“I can. Say five ‘Our Father’s’ and you'll be forgiven.”

“Thank you, Father.” You say and Lester swears he can hear your relief. 

He keeps his eyes closed as he brings his rosary, an old flashy thing with a red sapphire in the center his mother had passed down to him, to his lips. You begin to murmur the Act of Contrition, Lester whispering along to his part. “Go in peace.” He says, settling back as he waits to hear you stand, for the curtain to be pulled back and for yet another member of the congregation to enter and for him to start the process over again. It doesn’t come. “You alright, sweetheart?”

His voice is etched with concern, his eyes opening and for the first time, he allows himself to look over through the lattice. Your silhouette is there, your head bent down, your hands clasped into prayer, and he nearly gasps at the want that stirs in his stomach. He can’t see you, but now that he faces you, he can see your outline, he can smell your perfume, he can just barely make out the curve of your lips as you whisper hurriedly to yourself. When your head moves up, he sits back as quickly as he can, staring at the door.

“I didn’t confess everything.” 

“That’s alright. Do you wanna confess more?” 

“I do but… I’m afraid it’s sacreligious.” 

The words nearly take his breath away. “Sacreligious?” He says, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. He won’t say it - can't say it - but he wasn’t sure that was possible. Not with you, at least. “I think you should kneel and confess.” It’s out of his mouth before he means to say it, his accent growing stronger, but he hears the sounds of you moving from the creaky wooden bench onto the ground. He keeps his eyes on the door but he can see you there, knelt on the ground with your hands clasped at your face, looking up at the lattice with wide nervous eyes.

“I… I suffer from impure thoughts, Father.”

Lester grins softly, shaking his head. “That’s hardly sacreligious. It’s-”

“It’s about a priest, Father.” Lester stops talking, feeling his cock stir in his pants. He blinks, sure he misheard. But he hears you sniffle and he clears his throat slightly. “I-It’s one of the priests here, at this church.”

“Which priest?”

“I can’t-”

“The only way for ya' to be absolved is if you’re completely honest with me.” Lester says, ignoring the guilt building in his chest. This is wrong. He has a holy duty to steer these people right, to the word of the Lord, and yet now he was ever so slowly moving his hand up his leg to his crotch, pushing his robes up to his hips so he can gently press his palm against his bulge. “The Lord is kind to those who trust him enough to confess their deepest sins.” 

Lester hears you sniffle again before you make an affirming noise. “It’s… it’s Father Sinclair.” Lester bites down harshly onto his bottom lip to hold back a noise. The copper taste of blood fills his mouth as he closes his eyes, humming. “I know it’s wrong… I’ve only been coming here, to church, for a few weeks, and with every other priest I’ve been able to control my thoughts. But… there’s something about Father Sinclair… I know it’s wrong of me, Father.”

“It’s okay.” He reassures you quickly, though his voice is thicker than it was before. “No need to cry. These… thoughts that you’ve been having… can you go into detail?” Lester’s head leans backwards, thunking against the wood. “It's important to be honest, you know? You have to tell the truth if you want to be free.”

“I… do I have to?”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Then yeah, ya do. You’re embarrassed because you know it’s wrong. It’s hard to be truthful but it’s important. It’s for the salvation of your soul, sweetheart.”

“Okay…” You take in a slow and deep breath and Lester prepares himself for the filth that would soon be flowing from your sweet lips by ever so slightly rubbing his palm against his bulge. It’s almost impossible for him to hold back his hiss of pleasure, but he does so, God willing. His eyes close though he swears he can still see the accusatory stare of the wooden Jesus in the darkness.

“Take your time and remember; you gotta be honest. The complete and utter truth.” He’s not sure if he’s telling you or if he’s begging you. 

A few moments pass and he holds his breath. You begin to speak quietly, your voice close to him now with your position on your knees closer to the lattice that separates you both, and he briefly wonders if this is how God feels when he hears prayers. He wonders if God feels the swell of pride in his chest at the sheer devotion he has been shown or if he is above that. All Lester knows is that he is not.

“I…I sometimes think about him when I’m alone at night. I.. touch myself.” Lester hums, low in his throat, his hand grinding down just a little harder. “I think about him there with me… touching me, telling me how to touch him.” You let out a choked noise, surely a sob at your sins, but Lester hears it as a moan. “Even when I try to think about something else, my mind drifts.”

“Spirits willin' but the flesh is weak, s'that it?”

“Very weak.” You reply and he can almost see you nod your head. “Sometimes during his sermon I drift off… I start thinking about him bending me over one of the pews,” Lester makes a choked noise, trying to cover it with a cough, his cock aching against his pants. He wants to pull his dick out but he knows he will never, ever, be able to go back once he does that. The punishment God had in store for him was already grand, there was no reason to push it just yet. “And whispering in my ear about how I feel better than any earthly thing he’s ever felt.”

“I-I see…” Lester says, his eyelids heavy as he opens them and looks down at his lap. Even in the dark of the confessional he can see the dark spot that was growing on his pants and he is thankful for the robes he dons so he can shuffle out of here and back to his chambers without someone seeing the physicality of his failure. “Is that all?” 

His voice is strained, his hips bucking against the tight fabric of his pants, chasing friction he shouldn’t find enjoyable. He was so close, had only felt this way twice before, both times in the cloak of the night with his hand wrapped tight around his cock and a sheen of sweat covering his forehead. Both times he had stopped, pulling his hand away from himself with a sharp gasp and a furrowed brow, watching his cock twitch and leak until he forced himself to roll over and go to sleep.

“I… I’ve thought about touching myself even now while talking about it.” You say and Lester bites down so hard onto his lip that he feels the skin break underneath his teeth once again, coating them in red, his pants coated in white as he cums. His nerves are shot, white dots floating in his vision as he comes back down to earth. What he just felt, before the guilt and embarrassment and worry settled in, was the closest to Heaven he knew he’d ever get. “That’s all, Father. That’s the complete and utter truth.”

Lester swallows heavily in an attempt to keep his voice level. He isn’t sure if he had made a noise of pleasure when he came, but you wait patiently for his absolution, so he carries forward. He can feel the heat of embarrassment crawling its way up his spine, his cheeks turning pink as he stares down at the mess he had made of himself. “That’s… a lot.” 

“I told you.”

“You did, you did…” He sucks in another breath and blinks hard, trying to clear his mind. “Five Hail Marys and seven Our Father’s should work…” he plans on leaving it there, hoping to get you out of the confessional booth as quickly as possible, but his lips keep moving. “And I think you should come by weekly for counseling. You can request a specific priest, or whoever is available, and they can give you one on one counselin'.” 

“Will you do the one on one counseling with me, Father? I feel embarrassed about admitting this to someone else.”

“I… yes, if you’d like. But you would have to remind me of what you’ve confessed here; I don’t know your voice.” He says, stumbling over his own words. He turns to look through the lattice as you stand from where you’ve been kneeling, letting out a quiet breath of relief. He had gotten through this by the skin of his teeth.

“Thank you, Father Sinclair.” He can hear the smug smile in your voice and he lets out a low, throaty whine as his cock twitches pathetically. “I’ll see you next week.”

#f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #f1nalboys works #house of wax #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x y/n #house of wax 2005 #how 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n #priest kink #blashphemy #priest!lester sinclair #priest!sinclair brothers

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

I never requested so I don't know if I'm doing it right. But I wanted to request the self aware bsd cast with a shy teen reader with a not so good background. Maybe the reader wants to be writer but gets made fun of for it (bonus points if they look up to poe and oda). I'm not sure if this is the write way to request but feel free to ignore this.

Hello! Hope, you liked it.

Your dream matters

Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD characters x GN! Teen! Shy! Reader

Self-Aware! Platonic! Edgar Allan Poe x GN! Teen! Shy! Reader x Self-Aware! Platonic! Oda Sakunosuke (Slight! Self-Aware! Platonic! Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN! Teen! Shy! Reader)

Description: Set after BSD gang got into your world. You always want to be a writer. But no one supports your dream. But then, Bungou Stray Dogs characters get into your world. Your life is changing. Hopefully, for the better.

Fluff, comfort. Reader are well-read.

Warning: Bullies. Neglectful parents and teachers.

Part two: Reunion

OOC. English is my second language.

You loved reading all your life. Ever since you were a child, you prefer reading to playing.

You always wanted to be a writer. You wanted to write about people, about magical worlds, about talking animals. Furthermore, you wanted to share your ideas with others.

Because of your love for literature, you have decided to watch Bungou Stray Dogs. You liked all characters.

But, two characters were your favorite. Edgar Allan Poe and Oda Sakunosuke. Writer and person, who wants to be a writer.

You can even say, that look up to them.

Bungou Stray Dogs characters (especially Poe and Oda) soon became your comfort characters.

Because, you have a feeling, that they won't laugh at your dream to become a writer.

______________________

When you were in a kindergarten, you didn't have any friends. Other children always thought, that reading books is boring. They prefer to play outside, run around.

While you were sitting somewhere in the shade, reading another fairy tale.

You wanted to have friends. You want to have someone to talk to. To discuss books.

...

But you have no one. Other kids don't want to talk to you. They called you boring.

Because if that, when you start going to school, you were shy and quiet.

But this time, you had a dream... A dream to become a writer.

Dream, that everyone laughed at.

At first, it was a homework. To write a short fairy tale about animals.

You wrote about kitten, who was friends with butterflies. And how he helped butterflies to arrange a beautiful celebration.

When you read it to your teacher and classmates, they liked it. But then...

"I want to become a writer!"

Silence. Then your classmates started laughing.

"You will never do it!"

"Writing is not a job!"

"Soon no one will read books!"

And the teacher didn't do anything to calm your classmates down.

You weren't that naive. You understand, that your fairy tale wasn't The best story in the world. But... You were still a child. You are allowed to dream.

You hoped, that your classmates won't laugh at your dream again. Or, at least, you will have someone, that will support you.

...You are in a middle school now. In a year, you will start high school...

Classmates still laughing at you.

"Hey, Super Star of Modern Literature, how many people bought your books today?"

"[Y/N], can we have your autograph? I will show it to my grandchildren. Will tell them that I knew The Great Author when they were a pathetic nobody."

"Why are you still laughing at me? I didn't do anything wrong."

At first, you tried to ask teacher for help. But they ignored you.

"[Y/N], been a writer is a silly, childish dream."

"You won't write anything good. You will never be as good, as real writers "

"But I want to try... What if someone will like my writing?"

At the end you were too shy, too ashamed to ask for help again.

You hoped, that your parents will support your dream.

"[Y/N]! Writing is not a job! You must become a valuable member of society!"

"All writers are lazy alcoholics! Stop wasting your time!"

"But you are drinking without been a writer. You two are stuck in dead-end jobs. You hate working. You don't have hobbies... Why you don't want me to have something that makes me happy? Why you lash out on me instead of going to the gym to do boxing?"

"I... I know, that writing is a lottery, but... I just want to write something... I only want to tell a story"

...

"Please... I just want someone to support me... Just one person"

But at the end, no one supports you. But deep down, you still dream about becoming a writer.

But you never spoke about your dream again.

And then, one day, you saw a picture of Edgar Allan Poe from Bungou Stray Dogs.

After spending some time on learning more about BSD, you decide to watch it.

Then you read the manga.

And install the game.

______________

In the middle of June, characters from the BSD franchise appeared in your room.

____________________

You still weren't sure, how Fitzgerald managed to get this house. You still don't know, how they manage to get a custody over you.

The only thing is clear. You are now living with your comfort characters.

You start changing. At first, you were too shy to spend time with them. Especially with Oda and Poe. But, after something happened, you became more open towards your new family.

You became closer to them, thanks to Fyodor Dostoevsky.

_______________

You walk inside your home library and plopped down on the chair. You groaned and cover your face with both hands.

"Hard day?" you hear someone's voice. You nodded. You hear, that someone move a chair closer to you and sit near. That mysterious someone put a hand on your shoulder. "Want to talk about it?"

You were annoyed. So annoyed, that you decide to vent.

"Today, I had a school literature club meeting. We were discussing our favorite book characters. We could name anyone we want, doesn't matter, who is the author."

You take a breath.

"So I talked about Rodion Raskolnikov from Dostoevsky's "Crime and Punishment""

It was silent for a moment. Then mysterious someone asked again.

"I guess, teacher doesn't like your answer?"

You nodded again. If you weren't that annoyed, you would notice, that your listener had well known among BSD fans Russian accent.

"Yes. They told me, that Raskolnikov is a terrible person and can't be anyone's favorite. I... I never said that I like what he was doing, but he is more complicated character, that teachers told us about. Moreover, they are doing Dostoevsky dirty, while teaching about him in high school... Oh."

You finally looked at the person, you were talking to.

Right beside you was sitting Fyodor Dostoevsky. His hand was still on your shoulder. The man himself was smiling. He looked both amused and worried.

You want to disappear. You were embarrassed, that Fyodor heard your rant about his real world counterpart.

Fyodor asked you another question.

"Did the teacher let you explain your choice?"

You shook your head, still embarrassed. Fyodor laughs.

"Then why won't you explain it to me?"

You looked at Dostoevsky with a mixture of disbelief and embarrassment.

"I am serious. I want to hear, what's your reasons behind liking Raskolnikov."

Fyodor squeezed your shoulder. You gulp and star talking.

"Well, first, let me tell you what author himself write about Rodion..."

At the end, you and Fyodor had a full on discussion about book characters. Others joined you two.

Starting that day, you slowly, but surely became closer to your new friends. You even confess, that Poe and Oda were your favorite characters.

__________________

You still didn't tell others about your dream. But now, you nave a real notebook to write your ideas in.

Your life changed.

You lived in a new home. With a new family.

But you still were going in the old school.

____________

Mori parked the car not far away from school. He turns towards you and smiles.

"We are here, Little Light. Be careful at school."

"I will, Uncle Ougai, don't worry. See you and other after school"

After getting a hug from Elise and a head pat from Mori (with a quiet "You can call me father, you know?"), you left the car and walked towards the school building.

You hope, that today is going to be good.

____________

This day was terrible.

When you were walking in school halls, someone ran into you. You fall, and your schoolbag was opened. Your notebooks were on the floor. You quickly pick everything up and hurry to the next class.

You didn't notice, that your notebook with writing Ideas were stolen.

After the lunch, you got a notification.

Someone posted photos of your notebook pages on the school site.

And a video. A video of bullies, mockingly reading your notebook. Tearing it apart. Destroying pages.

And comments under the post...

"The Weirdo are still writing?"

"LOL, cringe fanfics!"

"Hey, maybe they have another notebook, where they write porn stories?"

"Will you calm the [CENSORED] down! Stop flaunt your stupid dream before our eyes!"

"Your notebook is only good to be used as toilet paper!"

After school, you hurry home.

____________________

You slam the door behind you. Not paying attention to anyone, you hurry to your room and close the door. Soon everyone heard the muffled cries.

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Chuuya was first one, who spoke.

"Who? Who dared to hurt our [Y/N]?! Who made them cry?"

"I know the answer" Katai, who checked your school site, showed everyone post with your notebook.

Fyodor stood up. His voice was cold.

"I will deal with this little bastards. Kolya, Chuuya, Dazai, you are going with me. Oda, Poe, can you, please, check on [Y/N]? They like you two."

Without other words, Fyodor walked towards the front door. Gogol,

Chuuya and Dazai followed him.

_____________

You heard someone knocking on your door.

"[Y/N]? It's us, Oda and Poe. Can we come in?"

You manage to sob a "yes" and bury your face in a pillow.

The door was opened. Oda and Poe slowly approach your bed. Oda kneel before your bed, while Poe sits on the bed edge.

Oda spoke first.

"We saw the video. Are you okay? The Bullies... They didn't hurt you to take away the notebook, right?"

You sob more and shake your head.

"No... They stole it... Is it wrong for me to dream? Is it wrong for me to want to be a writer?"

Poe put his hand on your back, softly petting it.

"It's not, [Y/N]. Your dream matters. Your dream can become true. I will help you."

Oda spoke again. "And I will also help you."

You look at them in disbelief. Did they just? The characters you always looked up to support you?

Poe answers your silent question.

"I can teach you, how to write. We will do writing exercises, we will discuss your writing, I will give you a critique. I will support you on your way to becoming a writer."

Oda rub away your tears.

"Don't listen to the others, [Y/N], you can become a writer. We will work on it together."

You cried again. This time, out of happiness. You jumped up and hugged both Poe and Oda at the same time. They hug you in return.

"Thanks you so much"

Finally, you have someone, who supports you and your dream.

_____________

🐾 Everyone from the BSD gang will support you.

🐾 Poe is mentoring you. He is a good teacher. He points out what you are doing good and what you are doing bad.

🐾 Oda and Poe will help you publish your first book. Just a little storybook.

🐾 You got good reviews and it was quite popular. You got some money from it.

🐾 You buy presents for everyone. Oda, Poe and Fyodor got a three different "Best Dad in The World" cups from you. Mori was devastated. Now he tries even harder to make sure you see him as a father figure.

🐾 On the side note, now you are being homeschooled.

🐾 The Bullies (seven people), who created a post, were found stuffed in one trashcan. It takes half a day to get them out of it.

🐾 Person, who write a comment about toilet paper, was stuffed in the school toilet.

🐾 Teachers were also scared. Rumors said, that someone attack them and teach them a lesson on "How to be a good teacher".

🐾 Slowly, you are becoming more and more confident. Now you are sure, that you can be a writer. All thanks to your new family.

_____

A/N : The bit about Raskolnikov happened in real life with me. When my literature teacher started asking us about our favourite characters from classic literature, I said, that I loved Raskolnikov. I had a feeling, if my teacher could, she would expell me for this words.

#bungou stray dogs au #self-awareau #self-awarebsd #bsd #bsd x gender neutral reader #bungou stray dogs #gender neutral reader #bsd anime #platonic #Self-Aware Oda Sakunosuke #Self-Aware Edgar Allan Poe #Self-Aware Fyodor Dostoevsky #Platonic Oda Sakunosuke x reader #Platonic Edgar Allan Poe x Rader #Platonic Fyodor Dostoevsky x reader

[laracrofted]

apologies, but apparently, i am all in on being a whore over supernova phoenix x reader x bob so... i wrote a short drabble inspired by a gif from @princessphilly and a conversation with @sushiwriterhere. happy friday 💖

warnings: minors and ageless blogs dni, explicit sexual content (like absolute filth, threesome, oral sex, unprotected sex, phoenix is a pleasure dom), unspecified poly relationship, swearing, not proofread. (natasha x fem!reader x bob)

You ask yourself the same question every time you find yourself in this same place with them, dizzy from pleasure and coming apart at the seams, forgetting all but the shape of their names.

How is it possible to have done this so many times in so many different ways and still have every encounter feel brand new? How is it possible for them to completely unmake you in the purple haze of the bedroom?

That can't be normal. You're well aware.

Aren't you usually bored of sex with the same person by now? Hasn't that always been a sticking point of yours?

Or is that the same person is both Phoenix and Bob? Could it be so simple as adding another person or is it just them?

Phoenix was the one to suggest the new position – which is less surprising than the reveal that she saw the illustration in an old edition of Cosmo.

Bob would be on the bottom on his back while Phoenix is on top of him, facing his feet. He'd fuck you and eat Phoenix out at the same time.

He was squirming, already half hard and straining against the denim of his jeans, before Phoenix had even finished.

It didn't sound particularly outlandish in the realm of your... encounters with them, but Phoenix was suspiciously cagey about showing you both the actual image.

Let's keep an element of surprise, Phoenix said with a secretive smirk, choosing to describe it instead.

You are right in the middle when Phoenix shows her winning hand.

You are growing slicker and wetter around him, eyes closed and head thrown back in the overwhelm of your own pleasure and the muffled sounds that are spilling from Bob's very occupied mouth.

He'd probably be loud enough to wake the dead if Phoenix weren't riding his face, soaking his chin and grinding down on him.

You're preoccupied, so full of him, too preoccupied to notice when Phoenix leans forward, bracing her hands on either side of Bob's rippling abdomen, until a brand new sensation zings up your spine like a bolt of lightning.

A wet tongue drags against your swollen clit as Bob fucks you.

You choke on a half gasp, half moan, and Bob jerks up into you without warning, knocking the damn wind out of you.

You gape, breathless.

Phoenix looks up at your with a lazy smirk, just this side of a little mean, and asks, "What's wrong, angel? Too much?" with mock sympathy and licks a long stripe around the base of Bob's cock as Bob shudders inside of you again.

A harsh exhale of laughter fans across your clit. You rock down on him harder, sloppier.

You can see why Phoenix would love this position, able to overwhelm you both with pleasure at once as well as chase her own pleasure.

He must be licking her faster now, desperate to catch all of the arousal, because Phoenix's arms are shaking.

She finds a comfortable spot between your open legs and lazily laps at his cock, licking your arousal from him and brushing against your clit with every stroke, eyes slanted with satisfaction.

No one else could make you feel like this. No one.

#phoenix x reader #natasha trace x reader #natasha trace x you #natasha trace smut #natasha trace fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader x natasha trace #fic: supernova #birthday 🤠 drabbles #fic: natasha trace #fic: bob floyd

[faintedlcve]

Hi Sweetie ~~ ✨

Please can I request a fic based on Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter? Any Slytherin boy will do 🤣 I just need fluff in my life~~ 💞

No worries if not x

Nonsense

I'm lazy so this is the second part of Someone Will Love You Better lmao. I think it fits. Part 1 is here.

Also I'm so sorry! I didn't even notice that I got sent this! Idk how long it's been in my inbox but if it's a long time I'm SO sorry!! Hope you like it xx the red italic writing are the lyrics xx the lyrics are edited to suit the text (ofc)

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader

Warnings: implied smut (like 3 words?), kissing, not proof read, I think that's it

Summary: based on the song Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Draco had broken up. You had to face Mattheo which was easier than expected.

Think I only want one person in my dorm. I might change your nickname to don't leave me alone. Said you like my eyes and you like to make em roll. Treat me like a queen now you got me feeling thrown. Those were the words that clouded your mind as you saw the love of your life.

Who could you possibly be talking about? The answer stood right in front of you. Mattheo Riddle. You'd liked him since forever. Well, since you'd known him which was after you started dating Draco. And to your delight, HE asked YOU out a week ago because Draco told him you liked him. Crazy, right? Here you thought you'd have to make the first move.

I guess he liked you just as much as you liked him. However, one think he didn't like was PDA.

But he was so hot and you couldn't help yourself, when he got close to you. And so he was forced to partake in any public display of affection and he grew to not mind it as much. It was you, after all. And he'd do anything for you.

Your tongue went numb around him, and made you sound like a complete idiot constantly making it sound like you were saying unintelligible words such as bleh blah blee.

You didn't want no one else, you were in too deep.

"Here's a lil letter I wrote. It's about you and me." You handed him a love letter, your cheeks the deepest shade of crimson.

He smiled, like a full one, which was a rare occasion. Usually he settled for subtle smiles. So subtle, you couldn't be sure if it was a smile.

Inside the letter the following words were written:

I'll be honest. Looking at you got me thinking nonsense. Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in. And when you got your arms around me, oh, it feels so good I had to skip a passage because otherwise this letter would be too long. I think I got an ex but I forgot him. And I can't find my chill, I must have lost it. I don't even know I'm talking nonsense. I'm talking all around the clock, I'm talking hope nobody knocks, I'm talking opposite of soft, I'm talking wild wild thoughts.

Love

Your princess,

Y/n

Mattheo laughed as he shook his head. "You didn't have to write it down! I already know I'm irresistible."

"you've gotta keep up with me, I've got some young energy. I caught the L-O-V-E, how do you do this to me?"

"Do what love?" Mattheo asked.

"around you I get butterflies. But I can't help myself when I get close to you. Baby my tongue goes numb. Sounds like bleh blah blee. I don't want no one else. Baby I'm in too deep."

He kisses your lips and hands you a letter.

"Here's a lil letter I wrote, it's about you and me." He says grinning as you open the letter.

And surely enough the letter had the following words written:

I'll be honest. Looking at you got me thinking nonsense. Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in. And when you got your arms around me, oh, it feels so good I had to skip a passage because I don't want to keep you too long. I think I got an ex but I forgot him. And I can't find my chill, I must have lost it. I don't even know I'm talking nonsense.

Love,

Someone who you don't want to leave you alone,

Mattheo Riddle.

"This love catchier than chickenpox is. I think your dorm is where my other sock is. Woke up this morning, thought I'd write you a letter. Wanna take a quiz?" You asked

"Sure. What about?" Mattheo questioned.

"how quickly can you take your clothes off pop quiz." You chuckled.

"You're adorable, you know that?" Mattheo said as he kissed your cheek.

ﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:*

A/n: hope you like it as much as I did writing it! It's kinda short! Request again anytime love 💗 again I am super sorry for the wait !

#mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #sabrina carpenter #talking nonsense #harry potter imagine #harry potter #deadly class imagine #deadly class #marcus lopez #marcus lopez imagine #marcus lopez x reader #marcus lopez arguello

[marvelouslytrekking]

A Much Needed Nap

Pairing: Leonard/reader Summary: The exhaustion from multiple crisis made a relaxing night very needed. Even if it meant forgetting something important. Word Count: 1037 A/N: It's been awhile but I was in need of something soft and could use a nap myself so this all but wrote itself. Hope you enjoy.

You knew that when you had enlisted in Starfleet that rest would not be something you would be all that familiar with, however, you hadn’t expected it to feel just so never ending. You knew it was the curse of getting assigned to the flagship, an assignment you would not give up for anything, expect right now, maybe a nice long nap would have you trading in your rank without much of a second thought.

You tried very hard to keep yourself balanced, however part of that balance was making sure you spent time with your friends, but between the back to back disasters and then the mandatory fun the captain would set up to help everyone “decompress” you felt like you have had no time to just relax, unless you were asleep but even that was limited. 

So when Uhura had asked you to get drinks with her after your shift, you didn’t even feel bad for turning her down, you must have looked like you needed the break because she didn’t even ask a second time. She was good at respecting boundaries, but she also liked to try and convince you to join her in shenanigans, so her not trying to entice you, even slightly, was a sign that you looked as exhausted as you felt. 

You sighed happily as you slipped into lounge clothes, you couldn’t even think of the last time these sweats had made an appearance. You plopped yourself on the couch and pressed play on the first movie that came up on your padd. You heard your doorbell go off and you groaned, you hadn’t even made it 10 minutes into the movie. Maybe Nyota had changed her mind and was going to try and force you out with her. 

“Come in” You shouted, too lazy to move to see exactly who it was. You barely even turned your head to look at who you had just let enter your space. 

“From the look of it, I am going to assume you’ve forgotten of our planned date.” You heard a gruff voice say from your doorway, a slight chuckle in his voice. 

“Oh my god!” You sat up rather quickly to look up and see Leonard with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a rather nice looking outfit on. You had been so busy the last few weeks, you and Leonard had barely had time to even see each other in passing. You had finally synced calendars and made plans to have a nice sit down date, one that was more than a 5 minute lunch, or 15 conversation before you both passed out in one of your beds. “It completely slipped my mind, I am so so sorry Len. If you give me like 10 minutes, I can be ready.”

You stood up and walked over to him, reaching up to pull him into a kiss, “The flowers are lovely” You toyed with one of the leaves, smiling at how much thought he had put into getting them for you. 

“You’re fine, you look exhausted,” He frowned slightly when he took in just how true that statement was.

“And here I was about to say how handsome you looked, and you’re saying I look terrible” You huffed. 

“Now don’t put words in my mouth, I said you look tired, not terrible.” He glared at you, “How could I possibly think you look terrible when you look so adorable in my sweatshirt.”

You tried and failed to hold back the smile at his comment, “I don’t remember this being yours.”

“Probably cause you stole it forever ago.” 

“Well anyway, just make yourself comfortable, and I will get changed.” You told him, “though don’t even ask, you’re not getting this hoodie back.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” He smiled, “But no need to change, we can just stay in. Looks like you just started a movie, and I would hate to make you not finish that, plus i could use a nice calm evening too”

“Are you sure? I feel terrible about ruining plans that you clearly took time to make.” You frowned. 

“It really wasn’t anything crazy, we can rain check it until you have had more sleep.” He told you, sincerity in his voice. 

“Thank you, Len.” You smiled, pulling him into a hug. He didn’t hesitate wrapping his arms tightly around you, staying like that for a while, just happy to be in each other's arms. 

“How about, I get these beautiful flowers in a vase, you go change into something more comfy and we can just curl up on the couch, eat some shitty replicator food and watch the dumb movie I had started,”

“Sounds perfect” He planted a kiss on your forehead before passing the flowers off to you and heading in your room to find some of his clothes to change into. 

You had finished putting the flowers in a vase and placing them neatly on your counter before finding some food to replicate when Len came out with a few extra pillows and blankets from your room. Upon seeing how cozy he was about to make the couch, you had no doubt you would be finding yourself asleep soon but you were just happy to have some time to spend with Len quietly. 

As you set the food down on the coffee table, Leonard had gotten himself and the pillows and such situated. You then found yourself getting settled curled up against his chest. You each grabbed a bowl of food and ate in comforting silence as the movie neither of you were paying all that much attention to played in the background. Once you were done eating and the dishes were set aside, you felt Leonard lightly playing with your hair, a gentle kiss here or there placed on your hairline. It wasn’t much longer before you felt yourself slipping into a deep sleep. 

Before fully succumbing to the sleep that was gripping at you, you found yourself mutter a soft, barely audible, “Love you so much Len,”

“I love you too dear” Softly, with so much care behind the normally gruff voice was the last thing you registered before you were fully asleep.

#Leonard McCoy x reader #Leonard mccoy/reader #Leonard “Bones” McCoy x reader #Leonard “Bones” McCoy/Reader #bones x reader #bones/reader #star trek #Star Trek aos #karl urban x reader #karl urban/reader #leonard McCoy reader insert #leonard “Bones” McCoy reader insert #Aimee writes

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this as a part of my falltober fics, I hope you like it!

It is a Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x gn!reader imagine.

Thank you @sunlightmurdock for help with the idea and @famfan-1034 for proofreading!

Day 16: Hay ride

Warnings: none

You had never even had to think about looking for a relationship, because from a very young age you and Jake Seresin had been inseparable.

He had told you he’d marry you sitting in the sandbox in kindergarten and continued to say so all through elementary school.

When middle school came around he was a little more quiet about his feelings but at the beginning of high school he finally asked you out, on a very awkward and nervous first date.

It had been clear to everyone that you would spend your lives together and just like their expectations you were married young, leading a busy but loving life together.

While you did live together and both of you loved your lives the romance of those first years slowly decreased.

Not because you didn’t love each other, that much was obvious, but with the both of you working full time jobs there was less and less free time to spend together.

When fall came around Jake was usually more clingy, because it reminded him of the time you had started to date.

It had been the most beautiful time of year and you were grateful for every memory, the colorful leaves, hay rides and hand holding, the quick stolen kisses and hugs that lasted as long as possible.

When you returned from work one afternoon your husband was already waiting for you.

A loving smile on his face and a gleam in his eyes, even though he had had a long day.

“I have a surprise for you, sweetheart,” he said, and off you went in his car, to a destination unknown.

It didn’t take long until you arrived and you were greeted with the sight of a fall fair, one just like the one you had been to on your first official date.

You were mesmerized and followed him wherever he led you, just wanting to stay close to him.

You had some pumpkin pie, took pictures at the photo booth and played pumpkin bowling, all of which you had done when you were younger.

On top of that you allowed yourselves some hot apple cider, and went on a hay ride just like the one on your first date.

This time Jake had asked the farmer driving you to take a break at a very scenic still gold glowing field.

He must have paid him for it because the man left you alone, going off somewhere to give you privacy.

While you kept sitting on the bale of hay Jake sprawled out to rest his head in your lap, just like he had done countless times when you were still growing up.

You immediately moved to run your hands through his hair, noting how it was the same color as the hay below.

“I know we haven’t been able to go on dates because we’re both busy with work, but I want to remedy that,” he said with a low voice, a little lazy from the comfortable position and the cider still warming your stomachs.

You smiled and went on to tell him it was alright but he just sent you a look that yet loving, silenced you.

“I’d love to ask you to go out with me again, properly, like once a week to dinner, or another date activity,” he said and you reached out to caress the side of his face, excitement and happiness flowing through you at how thoughtful your husband was.

“Thank you, honey. I’d love that,” you replied, rewarding him with a heated and thankful kiss.

tagging: @starkleila @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @kmsryles343 @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @dempy @bespinnn @tipsykeen @malindacath @aerangi @kassieesworld @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @marvelandotherfandomimagines @luckyladycreator2 @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern @mavrellover91 @allivingstone01 @rhettabbotts @withakindheartx @trikigirl271 @cherrycola27 @airedale17 @bonitanightmxres @ratcatcher2world @glowingtree @wingmanvenus @classyunknownlover @oliviah-25

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

#jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #falltober

[robosanz]

ʟᴜᴄᴋʏ ᴍᴇ

"𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢, 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔞 𝔡𝔬𝔲𝔟𝔱, 𝔪𝔶 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔣." - 𝔲𝔫𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔫

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━���━━━━

pairing: kuroo x fem!reader

summary: anything you draw/write on your own skin appears on your soulmate's. what happens when you need to cheat on your chemistry exam, and these formulas suddenly appear on Kuroo's arms who has to take the same test?

word count: 3,099

note: this is my first time posting something on tumblr and i'm still not completely sure how tumblr works, hehe. usually i post on ao3 and wattpad (under the same name) but i wanted to try it out here as well. I hope you like this oneshot :)

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“Are you ready for our chemistry test?”

Your best friend’s question made you stop in your tracks in the crowded hallway. A few students walked into you, complaining about you not moving and holding them up. You, however, had other concerns; the chemistry test had completely slipped your mind, despite it being the biggest test with every 3rd year having to take it. With wide eyes you looked at your friend and grabbed his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner!?”

A sheepish smile grew on his lips, his warm brown eyes not looking at you. “I forgot to tell you,” he admitted with a shy chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. He knew how you were but he had been busy and forgot to remind you. 

You clasped your hands over your face. “Hayate, what am I gonna do now?!” You always had problems remembering important things concerning school, mostly because you didn’t care that much about school. However, you still managed to get good grades and that’s why you kept not being bothered by it too much.

“Hey, you’ll manage,” Hayate said with a warm smile and put a hand on your shoulder. “You somehow always do,” he mumbled. He was just as clueless as you about how you managed to get good grades. 

You took a breath and nodded. “Yeah you’re right,” you said and rolled up your sleeves, eying your inner arm. Hayate raised an eyebrow while you tried to estimate how much stuff you could fit on them. Chemistry was one of your strongest subjects so you only needed to write down specific details that were new to you. Looking up with a smile, you nodded. “You know, I guess I’ll really manage.”

Hayate shook his head with a smile. “Your soulmate must think you’re some loser.” 

You gasped and put a hand on your chest. “Excuse me, I’m actually a genius if it wasn’t for my laziness.”

Hayate chuckled and ruffled your head lovingly. “Yeah sure, keep telling yourself that. But they sure must think you’re always cheating in school because you’re stupid.” 

You pouted and crossed your arms. It was still true what Hayate said - if school stuff would appear on your arms like that you would think exactly that. But your soulmate has never written something on their arm or anywhere else before. It was mostly you who wrote on your arm; mostly for cheating on tests. “Well, they could also write something on their arm for once.”

Hayate shrugged. “Maybe they’ll finally freak out about this much advanced chemistry and write something back.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I don’t want them to write anything,” you huffed, making Hayate chuckle. It was quite strange that you still hadn’t heard anything from your soulmate. Normally, people would go crazy to find out more about them and most of the people already found them by the age of 16. You were now 18 and had never even written a word with them. You weren’t too obsessed with finding them and they seemed to feel the same way about it.

Hayate had also found his soulmate about a year ago. She was a sweet and kind girl in your year. You got along with her a lot and she even became one of your best friends in a year. You were happy for your best friend and even if he teased you about possibly not having a soulmate, you didn’t make the effort to find them in order to prove him wrong.

The bell snapped you out of your thoughts and you gasped. “Shit, I’ll be back in five minutes,” you called out to Hayate before running down the hall towards the lady’s restroom. You needed to scribble down a few things on your arm before the exam. The brown-haired boy chuckled and shook his head before making his way to class.

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Kuroo was bouncing his knee up and down while waiting for the teacher to enter. The tense atmosphere in the classroom only contributed to his nervousness. It was unusually silent, only the clock’s ticking echoed through the room full of students. 

The upcoming test was taking a toll on everyone, and despite being one of Kuroo’s favourite subjects, the chemistry test was making him nervous as well. And when he noticed black lines appearing on his arms, he tensed even more; especially when the lines formed into exactly the chemistry formulas and definitions he needed for the test. He read the things appearing on both of his arms briefly before rolling down his sleeves with shaky hands and a quickly beating heart. He didn’t want to fail the test just because his soulmate decided to go crazy about chemistry. What the fuck? 

This was not the first time things about school subjects appeared on his arms. At first he thought that his soulmate was cheating themselves through their exams but somehow it didn’t make sense that they only wrote down a few specific things and not everything. Kuroo shook his head and the teacher came into the room.

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A sigh left your lips when the exam was over. You didn’t get caught cheating and the notes on your arms even helped you with some answers. You packed all your things and left the classroom where Hayate was already waiting for you. When you saw him, a grin grew on your face. “I completely nailed it.” 

He chuckled and shook his head, “yeah, but only because you cheated.” 

“I didn’t completely cheat,” you said and crossed your arms. He raised an eyebrow, making you glare at him with narrowed eyes. You two had a staring contest until someone bumped into your shoulder. You snapped your head over to the person only to see the school’s volleyball captain. You huffed and looked away from his retreating figure. Everyone at school knew Kuroo; he was one of the popular boys everyone swooned over. You looked at Hayate, “your captain is rude.” He didn’t even apologise for bumping into you.

Hayata smiled, amusement flashing in his eyes. “He’s actually pretty nice,” he said, making you roll your eyes. “You know, everyone is kinda waiting for him to find his soulmate. The girls are freaking out over him.”

You only hummed, not really interested in the whole Kuroo situation. You had other things to think about. The girls who were obsessed over him were stupid in your eyes; there were more important things to think about. Turning to your best friend you shrugged. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have fun at practice.” He nodded and ruffled your hair before you went separate ways. 

At home, you spent the rest of the day doing nothing in particular and when you stepped out of the shower, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Tightening the towel around you, you gawked at your arm.

'I have no idea why you’re suddenly a chemistry freak, but for once your scribbling helped me in an exam today.'

“Oh my god,” you mumbled and tightly shut your eyes, cringing at all the things you have written on your arm before. “My soulmate really thinks I’m stupid.” A part of you had secretly hoped that Hayate was right and you were one of the rare cases that didn't have a soulmate. 

Quickly putting on your pyjamas, you took a pen and sat on your bed. You tapped the pen against your chin while looking at the first ever message you received from your soulmate. “What am I doing?” You shook your head and were about to put the pen away and roll down your sleeve when another message appeared. 

'You’re not gonna tell me what you needed the notes for?'

“Screw it,” you mumbled and opened the pen’s lid with your mouth before writing down something on your arm as well. 

'I had a chemistry exam as well.'

You raised your eyebrows at the coincidence. How were the chances that you and them both had a chemistry exam on the same topics? With knitted eyebrows you watched new words appear on your skin. Could it be that we are in the same school?

'What a coincidence. So you normally cheat on your tests?'

You let out a huff and crossed your arms, considering not to answer anymore. Whoever that was seemed smug and you didn’t want to keep talking to them. Pressing your lips together, you glanced at your arm briefly. A groan escaped your lips before you scribbled on your arm. 

'I normally don’t cheat, I tend to forget a lot of my exams so I only need a bit of help.'

A few minutes passed and you were still staring at your arm, waiting for an answer. But nothing came. “Whatever,” you mumbled and rolled your eyes before laying down. You closed your eyes but let out a sigh before you angrily peeked at your arm one last time. A smile crept on your face when you read the words. 

'You still helped me today, thanks. Good night :)'

Scribbling down a good night as well, you went to sleep with a small smile on your face. Maybe they’re not that bad.

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“Your soulmate really did write to you?” Hayate’s eyebrows shot up as he eyed you nodding your head. A sudden knowing smirk crept on his face, making you knit your eyebrows. “This is fucking amazing,” he mumbled to himself. 

“Oi,” you slapped his arm, “what’s that supposed to mean?” He hid something from you and being the noisy person you were, you wanted to know on the spot. And the smug smirk didn’t mean anything good. Hayate only shrugged and whistled before going to class. With narrowed eyes you followed him to the classroom; for the rest of the day you didn’t get out of him what he was smirking about. 

“You’re not gonna tell me?” You crossed your arms when you both stood in front of the school building after classes. He didn’t have practice today, so you walked home together. 

Hayate smirked. “If you really want to know,” he shrugged and glanced at you with an amused expression, “Kuroo wants to find his soulmate now.”

You sweatdropped and slapped the back of his head. “Idiot, and I thought it was something important.”

He chuckled and stepped away from you. “That’s kinda important, and I know exactly who it is.” A wide smirk crept on his lips when your wide eyes snapped over to him in surprise. “I saw something written on his arm yesterday and coincidentally I saw the exact thing on someone else’s arm as well.”

“No way!” You grabbed his arm looking up at his face. “Tell me.”

Hayate pushed you away from him before walking ahead, shaking his head. “I thought you weren’t interested in him.” He laughed internally. If you only knew.

“You’re right,” you said and jogged up to your best friend, “I don’t care.” Grabbing your backpack’s straps, you bit your lip. You really wanted to know who it was and Hayate knew it. You glanced at him. “It’s Kenma, isn’t it?” It wouldn't surprise you even a bit if it was the quiet setter. You had always thought that they were too much of best friends and partners to not be soulmates.

“I won’t tell you, but maybe he’ll tell you.”

“Idiot,” you grumbled, “why should he tell me?”

Hayate only shrugged, sending you an innocent grin and a shrug. You huffed and crossed your arms, oblivious to all the hints your best friend already gave you. Just yesterday, Hayate had seen both of Kuroo’s arms in the boy’s changing room. And they were full of the notes you had taken a few minutes prior to the exam. Hayate was glad that it was someone like Kuroo that was your soulmate. The both of you were quite similar; you were good at school, mostly introverted and both of you were calm and collected people - at least if Yaku didn’t trigger Kuroo.

“You really won’t tell me, will you?” You stopped in front of your front yard and pouted slightly. 

Hayate shook his head with a fond smile, happy that his friend would soon grow up. “Get some sleep, I have a feeling that tomorrow will be a great day.” He patted your head before walking to his house, leaving you standing there with crossed arms. 

With knitted eyebrows you looked after him until he was out of your sight. Heaving a sigh, you got into your house and immediately went into your room to take a nap. However, a message on your arm made you stop. With knitted eyebrows and a small blush you sat on your bed.

'I want to know more about you. Are you free?'

You gulped and took a pen. 

'Yes I am.'

While waiting for the answer, you quickly changed into something comfortable and got under the covers, taking a pen with you. You opened your laptop to watch a movie when new lines appeared on your arm.

'Nice, you can text me. xxx xxxx xxx'

You froze, not believing they gave you their number just like this. They may be your soulmate, but you still hesitated before saving their number on your phone. For all you knew, they could’ve just given you a random number.

Biting your lip, your fingers slowly typed hi before lingering over the send button. Shutting your eyes tightly you pressed send. When your phone vibrated, you peeked one eye open and looked at the text.

'I almost thought you wouldn't text me.'

You rolled your eyes with a small smile.

'I almost didn't but whatever.'

The both of you texted for a while and you found out that his name was Tetsuroo and he was also in 3rd year high school and even in Tokyo. He liked chemistry and was therefore interested in you after he saw all the notes. If you hadn't written all these things on your arm, he probably wouldn't have contacted you. But before you could manage to find out more about him, he ended the conversation, saying he still had something to do.

With a sigh you laid down, covering yourself with your blanket completely. "He's not that bad," you mumbled with a small smile before letting sleep take over. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You huffed and put your chin on your palm while the teacher was going on and on about maths. You were good in the subject and already knew all of that, boring you to death. Beside you, Hayate was busy taking notes while you looked out of the window, not paying any attention. 

When something appeared on your palm, you felt your heart skip a beat and waited for him to complete his sentence with a small smile.

'Hi, I’m bored out of my mind right now.'

You resisted the urge to giggle and took a pen to tell him that you’re in the same position as him and that maths was killing you.

'Well, we could continue our conversation from yesterday.'

You nodded to yourself already knowing which question you wanted to ask next. After all, you wanted to know roughly in which area he was living in.

'Which school do you go to?'

He didn’t take long to answer and when he did, your heart threatened to stop right there and then. Staring at the words nekoma high school with wide eyes, you sat up straighter. Immediately, you looked around the classroom, trying to find someone who was looking or writing on his palm. When you found no one you turned back to your own palm. 

'Which class are you in?'

Your heart dropped and you jumped off your seat, scaring everyone in the room with the loud scraping sound of your chair. The teacher sent you a glare to which you quickly bowed and excused yourself. Avoiding Hayate’s questioning look, you rushed out of the classroom. 

“What the fuck?” you said to yourself, leaning against the wall beside the classroom before pressing your palm on your forehead. You only knew one person in this class that was called Tetsuro and that was Kuroo.

“You don’t seem to be too happy about me.” 

You looked up when his deep voice reached your ears. Kuroo stood in front of you with one hand in his pocket and a small smirk on his handsome face. Pushing yourself off the wall, you cleared your throat quickly. “I don’t know what you mean,” you trailed off, not looking at him.

A chuckle escaped his lips and he nodded to himself. “Lucky me, I got a really charming soulmate.”

“Hey, I can be charming,” you quickly defended yourself, making him laugh. Heat rose to your face and you huffed, crossing your arms. However, you couldn’t help but feel relieved. At least, a decent person was your assigned soulmate and not someone you couldn’t stand or was absolutely disgusting in character. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile crept on your lips at the realisation.

“You sure are a cutie.” Kuroo patted your head, making your face beet red. You swatted his hand away from your head, your smile falling quickly. “Well, since we found each other, I wanted to ask if you’re free on Saturday.”

Taking a breath, you slowly nodded. It would make no sense to reject the boy now. Why not give it a try. It can’t be that bad.

Kuroo smiled and nodded but before he could add something, Hayate put his arms around your and Kuroo’s shoulder, pulling you two closer to him. “Finally, you two found each other,” he grinned, “and here I thought you two oblivious people would take weeks to find each other.”

You pulled out of the group hug and slapped the back of Hayate’s head. “You knew and you didn’t tell me, idiot.”

He rubbed the spot you had hit and chuckled innocently. “Then it wouldn’t have been fun for me,” he admitted and shrugged, earning a glare from you. He smirked and looked between you and his captain, “but you already have a date.”

“No,” you quickly said, knowing exactly what your best friend was thinking, “you’re not coming as well.” Turning to Kuroo, you narrowed your eyes at the taller boy. “Don’t tell him where we’re going or he’ll deadass come.”

Kuroo chuckled and nodded while Hayate let out an offended cry and dramatically fell on his knees, clasping his chest. “The betrayal!”

With a blush you grabbed Kuroo’s arm, and dragged him away from the scene your best friend was causing. “If anyone asks, we don’t know him.”

#fanfiction #writing #haikyuu #haikyū!! #haikyu x reader #kozume kenma #anime #kuroo tetsurou #hq #soulmates

[iamyoursonly]

3AM (29/03/2024)

wrote this at 3am because i had a dream of him and i needed some hallucinations desperately <3 sorry for not posting for so long though, i had so many tests i could barely breathe :(

Late nights but no movie night, I’m just overworking myself, as I sit at the same spot for the 27th hour.

My tired eyes drag across the computer screen, lazy fingers typing the last few words with my keyboard to complete my long due essay. Headphones listening to pop music to keep my mind awake, well the unhealthy amount of caffeine also helped with that.

I take some freshly washed grapes that I previously prepared for myself and put one in my mouth, slowly chewing and getting a taste of how sweet the grapes are. Suddenly, my mind wanders to think of how it would feel like if there was someone to feed me grapes when I’m doing work.

I slap my face and take another sip of my coffee when my mind tries to wander away and think about that ‘homeless romantic’ crap again. I could’ve been doing that if my immature self didn’t choose to become a become a doctor. I just sigh and continue the essay.

Until I couldn’t, and I passed out on the table.

“My love? Are you alright?” A man whispered into my ear, his voice was so hot and addictive though. Complaining would be the last thing I would do honestly. But I had to get up and check who it was.

I open my eyes, slowly getting used to the light at my desk again, only to find the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my whole entire life. He was gorgeous as a greek god that only Zeus had crafted himself. His features as sharp as a knife, and he looked divine.

“Am I hallucinating?” I mumbled, and as if I said it out loud, the man whispered again. “No you’re not, sweetheart.”

Well I better be in heaven for working my butt off completing that stupid essay. Seeing that I’m face to face with this beautiful man, I’m 100% sure I spawned into the correct place after I died. So this is the after life, it’s not even half bad to be honest. Like just look at him, he must be my guardian angel that is on his way to guide me to the staircase to heaven. The staircase will definitely be as gorgeous as his eyes…

“Hello? Darling? Are you still with me?” He says again, and I leaned closer to admire his features. I whisper a soft “Yes, I am.” As I focus on his ocean blue eyes, and before I knew it, I was drowning in that ocean his eyes held. His eyes was blue like a beautiful sunny day, it was that shade of blue that everyone liked, and I couldn’t help but admiring them a little bit too much too.

“Earth to y/n?” He tries yet again, but this time I could just focus on how snowy white his hair was, it was as white as the whitest paint ever made, and it looked so beautiful and silky I couldn’t even describe how much I wanted to run my fingers through his hair.

As if he could read my mind, he grabbed my face and closed the distance between the two of us, and our faces were so close I could feel his breath… He can touch me! And I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. I wasn’t. “Sir…?” I choked out, with his face so close to mine, I could barely control my pacing heartbeat, let alone my flushed expression. I could just stare into those captivating eyes of his and think about how beautiful he is… Honestly, even the most beautiful words cannot describe how spectacular he looks.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, and with us this close, I’m definitely not okay.

“May I ask who you are and why you’re here?” I ask, trying to put up a strong face, trying not to show my weak side.

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he replies swiftly, without hesitation, “And I may come from the future but don’t freak out please. I’ll explain.”

I just look at him, not knowing how to react as my mind had suddenly gone blank from this shocking news. “Time travelling? That’s possible?”

He chuckled as if he knew how I would react, “How old are you, darling?”

“I’m 14.” I tell him, a bit curious about what he will tell me next. “I’m 29.” He tells me, “It’s 2024 right now, right? I was 16 during that time.”

It took quite a long moment of silence for me to process this new idea of time travelling that I never thought would happen in the near future. I just look at him and his smile as he moved away from me. The amount of questions I had started flooding my mind, I had to resist the urge to ask him all at once.

“So you’re in the year 2036?” I ask him, and I got my answer in a second.

“Actually 2037, it’s March right now, right? Well, I was born in December.” He said, with a smile.

“Why are you telling me all this? What do you want from me?” I started blurting out the questions I had in my mind for a while. And he just looked at me. “I just wanted to see if you met me yet, by that I meant my 16 year old self.”

“Huh?” I started to get confused, “What do you mean by that?”

“We’re dating, darling. In the future, and we’re engaged just last month in 2027.” He smiles, looking so happy I could almost know what to anticipate for the future, “You’re definitely the best thing that happened to me, I could see why I chose you as my wife.” I sat there in shock, not knowing the right words to say, but I felt a hot rush of heat on my face, I must’ve been blushing so hard when I heard him say that we will be engaged… I mean engaged with that man? What luck did I have to be able to pull him?!

“When will we start dating, may I ask?” I manage to choke out, and he laughs, making my face blush an even redder tone. Then he puts a finger up to his lips, as if telling me that it’s a secret, “Wait and see, it won’t be fun if I just spoil all the fun.”

His watch suddenly starts beeping really loudly, as if signalling him to go back, and I was right.

“Sorry darling,” he shows me his watch, and it shows that he had a minute left, “It’s time’s up for now, but I’ll see you later.” He just gave me a big hug and then he disappeared into thin air.

I still didn’t know how to react to that chain of information, I just sat still for a long time, so long that I could feel my butt hurting because of that. The wind blowing my curtains away from the touch of the windows, and that woke me up, that cold breeze of wind at night but with just a tiny bit of warmth to bring me the comfort I needed.

As if I needed something cold to continue this thinking, I head down the convenience store, in my silly pyjamas, I needed to get my daily doze of milk at 3am for better thinking. Not thinking that anyone would be there at 3am just like me, but I caught a glance of a tall guy with some snow white hair, and in that instant, I couldn’t stop my body from running towards that isle that he was in.

The tall guy turned to look at me, as I was panting from running so fast towards him, and he stared at me up and down, “Are you okay, miss?” I look at him, and I could see the sparkly ocean blue eyes I’ve just seen a moment before, but this person looked like a mini version of him — that Gojo guy. Even their voice sounded somewhat similar…

“I am, thanks for your concern.” I tell him, and he gave a slight smile before grabbing the last bottle of milk to the counter.

“Hey!” I call out to him, and he turned back to look at me, “What is it?” he says.

“I wanted that bottle too,” I say, a blush starting to creep up on my face, I think that explains the smirk on his face, “It might be weird asking but do you mind sharing?”

He just laughed out loud, breaking the silence in the air, and I just look at him with my blush creeping up my face so much faster than before. “So?” I ask again.

“I’ll just give you the bottle.” He tells me, then he heads to the counter to pay while I can’t even move my legs from embarrassment to stop him from paying for me. I simply stood in shock and waited for his return in the same position. He came back and gave me the bottle, I held onto the bottle tight and I maintained eye contact with him before he started leaving the store with both his hands in his pockets.

“Wait!” I call out, again, and he looks at me, “Would your name be Gojo Satoru?”

He didn’t necessarily respond but he did give just that tiny nod I needed to confirm, then he mouths the words, ‘I’ll see you later.’

master list

#drabble #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo and you #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #haha #enjoy haha

[josefavomjaaga]

Hii, I have heard Eugene initially disliked his stepfather. It sounds interesting since I love the beautiful father-son bond of napoleon and his stepson. Is it true that Eugene initially didn't like his stepfather? Was it just a part of grieving for his own father, Alexander, or was it because Napoleon initially acted a certain way that hurt Eugene.

Hi and thank you for the Ask! As I’m feeling particularly lazy today, I thought it would be easiest to let Eugène answer himself. This is translated from his memoirs:

I must say that, a few months later, we realised that General Bonaparte might want to unite his destiny with that of our mother, and all the splendour that has since surrounded Napoleon, then General Bonaparte, has not made me forget the pain I felt when I saw my mother resolved to form new ties. It seemed to me that a second marriage, whatever it was, was a profanation, an attack on the memory of my father. General Bonaparte, who was already a regular visitor to the house, took an interest in everything that went on there, and did not disdain to devote himself, with particular care, to the education of two children whose mother he soon hoped to marry; but they were aware of the reluctance we had already shown, my sister and I, for my mother to marry again, and they used the need for both of us to complete our education as an excuse to place us in two boarding schools in Saint-Germain. It was not long before we learnt at once of my mother's marriage to General Bonaparte, of his appointment as commander of the army of Italy, and finally of my mother's imminent departure to follow her husband. All this news would have pleased me very little if General Bonaparte, on leaving for Italy, had not given me a glimpse of a very flattering consolation: he promised to call me to his side as soon as, through assiduous and successful work, I had made up for the time that circumstances had caused me to lose.

So, apparently Eugène and Hortense had shown their dislike for this second marriage openly enough for Napoleon and Josephine not wanting to have them around for the wedding. Which is … yeah. Not particularly considerate. Presumably, this had hurt Eugène more than he lets show in his memoirs. I surely would not want to learn about my mother having married from my school principal (according to Hortense, she was called to Madame Campan’s office, and Madame Campan then carefully broke the news). I’d argue this was not the best start.

But let’s not forget that this is Eugène’s own POV. As he admits himself in the next paragraph, his education had indeed been much neglected (he had already been pushed from pillar to post even before the Revolution after his parents’ separation). The kids being sent back to school may have been more than just an excuse to have them out of the way for Napoleon and Josephine’s marriage.

As to the reasons why the kids were set against their mother remarrying, Eugène cites the memory of his father, in whose care he had grown up and whom he probably had a much closer personal relationship with than his sister. He also may have understood much more than Hortense about the ugly scenes that had happened when his parents had separated, so his mother remarrying may have felt to him as if Rose-Josephine now completely gave up on Alexandre, as if she ultimately declared that her first marriage had been a mistake.

But most of all, I think the children felt abandonned. After all, not even two years earlier, they had woken up one morning to learn that their mother had been taken to prison during the night. Françoise de Bernardy thinks that the letters the kids wrote home from their boarding schools often feel as if they were very protective of their mother, almost as if they had been the adults and Josephine the child. All their childhood had been turmoil. Their mother was the only thing left they could cling to.

But both children were, as a rule, docile and well-behaved, and especially Eugène had this innate desire to please, to be loved, and to win the appreciation of whatever father figure was available in his life at any given time. So it would not take long for Napoleon to win them over. We do not have any letters from Eugène to Napoleon from this time, afaik, we only know he wrote because Napoleon mentions it. We do have a letter from Napoleon to Hortense, in reply to a somewhat defiant letter she had sent. Presumably, Hortense, being younger and closer to her mother, had been more hostile than her brother. But I doubt she would have expressed her feelings too openly; Madame Campan would have taken care of that.

I also always feel like I have to add a bit of a caveat with regards to Eugène’s and Napoleon’s relationship. Yes, I would argue this was most likely the closest thing to a father-son-relationship Napoleon ever experienced during his life. But it always remained at a certain distance. Napoleon called Eugène tu in private, obviously, but in letters and later at court it’s always vous. And while we have multiple remarks of "paternal love" and "filial devotion" etc in their correspondence, I yet have to find a single instance of Eugène referring to Napoleon as a father. Even in letters to his mother and sister he speaks of either "Bonaparte" or later "the emperor". Napoleon does of course call Eugène his son in every letter since the adoption. But this is first and foremost a formality; prince Karl von Baden who had married Napoleon’s adopted daughter Stéphanie de Beauharnais is adressed as "mon fils" just like Eugène.

Aaaand considering that I only wanted to quote Eugène, this has gotten unbearably long once again. Sorry for that 😚. I always get so excited whenever somebody shows an interest in the boy.

Thanks for the Ask, I hope this was helpful!

#napoleon's family #eugene de beauharnais #le fils #paris 1796 #rose de beauharnais

[skepsiss]

It's Snowing in Hawkins; Winter Exchange - Batboys

Here is my fic for the BatBoys Winter Exchange! @batboysxprompts I hope whoever submitted this request is pleased with what I wrote. I was a little liberal with the suggestion, but I think I followed along with Eddie's competitive streak like they wanted. I hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: This is all fluff. Steve goes over to visit Eddie during a heavy snow in Hawkins and gets roped into helping him build a snow fort. Both of them have been inching toward a romance for months now, and Steve adores how innocent and young their relationship feels. It’s the start of something real tonight, and it makes Steve feel brilliantly happy. 

Season: Winter

Quote: The kids at the trailer park are having a snowman competition. Eddie joins in to one up them

Song: My Chemical Romance - "Every Snowflake is Different (just like you)"

AU/Place: Trailer park

Rating: T Words: 3,609 CW: Aggressive/degrading language toward the poor, slightly mature language/themes, mention of skin grafts/scaring, mention of mobility challenges from injuries

It’s snowing in Hawkins, and the fat, fluffy flakes caught on the windowpanes and the aspens of Mirkwood. Four children roam the deep fields of Forest Hills Trailer Park, gathering snow and shrieking their laughter skyward. The end of winter break is but a week away and time must be utilized well or be lost. A fifth joins them and the festivities begin. 

–

It’s late afternoon and the sun is already starting its slow descent over the little town of Hawkins. It gets dark, fast, in the wintertime in Indiana, and the chill becomes biting as the wind rolls off the Appalachian mountains. 

Steve had gotten used to this kind of cold; he had grown up in it after all, and despite the foot of snow he had still decided to trudge his way toward the trailer park. It wasn’t smart to drive in this kind of weather, and really, Steve lived fairly close to the park if he wasn’t being lazy. His proximity to ‘Mirkwood’ had been a black stain on his mind ever since Barb’s death–before that as well. His father had always hated the fact that their property backed up onto public land and just anyone could walk into their yard. That had been a point of contention in the Harrington household, even though Steve quietly noted that his father never went ahead and put up a fence. Likely, it had just been something for his father to complain about, and his intentions to erect a barrier between himself and ‘those varmints in their mobile homes’ had been all for show in the end.  

It was convenient for Steve now, though, since he could walk out his back door and to Eddie’s house in ten minutes flat—a bit more with all this snow.

Steve had never lived this close to a friend before, and it made impromptu visits that much easier. It also spoke to what lengths Steve was willing to go despite only being ‘friends’ with Eddie. 

They had started hanging out nearly a year ago now—just three more months, and it would be spring break again, even if Steve quietly dreaded the second coming of the holiday. Nothing had happened since March of ‘86 though, and Steve was finally starting to believe that the ‘other shoe’ wasn’t going to drop after all. He had been proven wrong before, though, if Halloween of ‘84 said anything about the pattern of these supernatural pains in the neck. 

He was optimistic though… if only because he was willing it.

After the trauma of spring break, it had been difficult (like it always was) to fall back into routines. He had watched Eddie struggle the most with that and while his injuries had been nothing to sniff at, once he was stitched up and given some blood so he wasn’t going to die from blood loss he was… fine. The wounds had scarred, of course, and Eddie had more scars than wounds because they had needed a skin graft for the larger bites. It was sort of difficult to stitch someone back together when their skin was minced like that—or at least that was what Dustin had crudely explained. 

Robin had asked him last week when he was going to stop flirting and actually do something about it. 

Eddie had struggled, and Steve had found it was easier to talk to Eddie than it had been to speak to most of the others, with all this Upside Down crap.

Robin was fantastic—he adored Robin, and he talked to her more than anyone, but he never felt like he was quite on her level when it came to compartmentalizing all the trauma. The kids were the same way; they were all so smart, and they could puzzle away or focus on their nerd hobbies to distract themselves from the abuse. Steve on the other hand… Steve’s hobbies allowed for far too much space to think, so it was hard to escape the memories.

Eddie, similarly, seemed unable to just quietly shut up and focus on something. It came at him like waves, and Steve had noticed that he had been distracting himself almost as much as Steve needed. Maybe he was lying to himself about that, though. Maybe he was just making up excuses to be around Eddie because he had found—after everything was said and done—that he really enjoyed spending time with the Freak. 

Steve hadn’t been such a dunce not to realize that he had feelings for Eddie, but his feelings felt so juvenile compared to how he usually reacted around women. It felt innocent and ephemeral in a way that reminded him of being thirteen. It was all small touches and little smiles, and Eddie seemed to fall into step with that behaviour easily. Eddie was older than him… but in a lot of ways he seemed less mature. That, in turn, made Steve want to slow everything down, too. 

He’d bob and Eddie would weave, and they’d sit and watch movies together without saying a word about the fact that Eddie’s feet were propped in Steve’s lap. Or they’d go for a swim and all they would do was smile when they touched hands on the pool edge.

It was just so goddamn innocent… and Steve found himself liking the slow roll of whatever this was. He wasn’t exactly convinced that Eddie liked him back that way—Eddie was a physical guy with everyone, but he didn’t seem to pause and consider his contact with everyone like he did with Steve.

Or so Steve liked to think.

Steve rounded on the trailer park and shivered slightly as he brought his shoulders up to his ears. The forest was less densely packed with snow than the open field of the trailer park, and he struggled a bit until he made it to a worn footpath through the snow. He started getting a view of the open expanse beyond the mobile homes, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets as he walked.

Steve heard the laughter before he saw them, but as he made his way toward Eddie’s trailer, he could see some of the kids traipsing through the snow and rolling snowballs. He paused and watched them—Max, Lucas, Mike, and Eleven—and smiled a bit at how carefree they looked.

Max of course was struggling to move through the snow, but she was making the best of it and was commanding Lucas to do the heavy lifting while she took frequent breaks. Comparatively, Mike was taking it slow and stopping to explain exactly how to pack and roll the snow properly to Eleven, instructing her on snowman building.

“You’re doing it all wrong, Wheeler!”

Steve paused as he walked up the first step of the Munson’s trailer, and then hesitated as he caught snippets of conversation.

“It’s not dry enough snow for that, you’ve got to squeeze with the body!”

Steve could recognize that diction anywhere, and he stepped to the side of the trailer to see Eddie pointing at Mike and Lucas. They all seemed to be having fun, but there was definitely an air of combativeness to the scene.

“What’re you guys up to?” Steve asked, feeling like a dad talking like that to all of them.

They all turned, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at the way Eddie beamed at him. 

“Good, good,��� Eddie was saying before he said hello as he walked over to Steve.

Steve half waved as Lucas raised a hand to him, only for Max to scold him for losing momentum and letting the snowball he was rolling crack.

“You can help me out,” Eddie declared as he grabbed Steve by his forearm and started pulling him into the field.

“We’re building snowmen,” Eleven said happily, smiling at Steve as she helped Mike lift one of the large balls to place on top of another.

“Or at least we are,” Mike added as he looked toward the pile that Steve was currently being pulled toward.

“Shut your pie-hole, Wheeler. This’ll be a feat of engineering,” Eddie hissed, letting go of Steve and then handing him an empty bucket.

“Yeah, sure,” Max condescended, turning to focus on her own snowman.

Steve stood there a bit dumbfounded as Eddie picked up a small trowel and handed that over as well.

Eddie was doing that thing where he was so focused he forgot that not everyone thought the same way as him. Usually, Steve found it endearing—and he did right now as well—but he was equally confused and Eddie seemed to want him to be doing something.

“Uh…” Steve said quietly, looking at the bucket and the shovel he was now holding. “What am I doing with these?”

Eddie only took a moment to pause and look at him before continuing his work.

“I’m making a snow-dome, Steve,” Eddie said distractedly, “I need snow.”

“Igloo,” Lucas corrected as he rolled a large snowball past them.

“It’s not an igloo!” Eddie declared. “First of all, it’s not ice, and second of all, it isn’t fucking square-ass blocks. Snow-dome, you twat. Steve! I need snow.”

Steve flinched slightly, not really expecting to be put to work so quickly upon arrival. He moved, though, choosing a relatively large patch of snow to start digging.

“No—” Eddie chastised, trudging over to him and pointing farther west. “Grab the snow from out there. And I need you to pack it in, man. Like, really pack it. I’ll assemble, you can… dig or whatever.”

Steve sighed but did as he was told, he walked farther into the field and started to scoop and shovel the snow into the bucket before bringing it back over to Eddie.

“So… why are we doing this?” Steve asked as he was handed an empty bucket and shooed away.

“Said I couldn’t…” Eddie muttered, concentrating again as he plunked down the full bucket of snow and began making the base of his ‘snow-dome.’

“Before…” Eddie muttered, focusing. “It’s a contest, man.”

He wasn’t explaining much, and Steve didn’t press the subject as he diligently scooped up snow and brought it back to Eddie until he was sweating from the effort. Eventually, he was told to stop and was sent toward the woods to gather ‘tinder’ for Eddie’s elaborate plan to thatch his snow-dome so it was more structurally sound. 

Really, Steve didn’t get it or understand Eddie’s vision, but he didn’t protest. It was a touch annoying to be trudging around in the snow though when he had expected to walk over here and share cocoa and maybe curl up on the couch with Eddie. He had been much more snugly with the cold weather and had started commenting freely on how warm Steve was. It was true, but it also felt like an excuse so they could press up against each other ‘innocently.’

“You’re not even close to being done,” Max said as she pressed two rocks into the head of her snowman.

Max and Lucas plodded inside, and Steve watched as the trailer lights came on. 

Mike and Eleven were almost finished with their snowman as well, but Eleven seemed to be struggling with what she wanted to do with the face.

“You can’t rush perfection!” Eddie hollered as he began to leisurely weave the sticks Steve brought back into the ‘wall’ of his snow-dome.

“Perfection, sure,” Max said with a roll of her eyes. “Well, I’m freezing my ass off, so I’m going in. Come on, Lucas. We can judge the snowmen and the ‘snow-dome’ from the window.” 

Max’s mom must be working late again and though she would never complain, Steve knew that Max still struggled to do basic tasks around the house like prepping meals and cleaning. He could see Lucas readily putting a pot of water on the boil though and seeing to her needs. 

“So, what kind of contest is this?” Steve asked as he knelt in the snow with Eddie and began handing him sticks as he wove.

“Snowmen building,” Eddie answered simply, obviously concentrating.

“Well, this is the weirdest snowman I’ve ever seen,” Steve commented, looking up at the walls of Eddie’s snow-dome and wondering just how high he was planning to make it.

“No, well, obviously it’s not,” Eddie corrected, sounding annoyed that Steve didn’t understand. “The kids were building snowmen, and making a kind of contest about it, and I was going to show them up on that too, but… I don’t really remember how we got onto the topic, but one of those twerps said something about building a fort out of snow would be impossible, so it was like challenge accepted and boom, snow-dome.”

Steve listened quietly as he lazily handed over sticks to Eddie; well, at least he seemed energized by it and Steve didn’t really mind helping out, but it was starting to get dark already. How long were they going to be at this?

“We’re going in, Eddie,” Mike declared as he held Eleven’s hand and led her toward Max’s trailer. “You’re welcome to join when you finish.”

Mike seemed a bit awkward as he hovered, obviously not wanting to leave Eddie out here and wanting his attention. Eddie wasn’t even looking at him though and waved Mike off without a second thought.

“Yeah, later, Wheeler,” Eddie replied, waving over his shoulder at the teen.

“Bye, Steve,” Eleven said, waving at him. “I’m sure you can join too.”

Steve waved back lightly, smiling a bit forcefully at the teens. He appreciated the invite, but it felt a bit awkward to accept, plus, he had come over to spend time with Eddie.

“I need more snow,” Eddie declared, standing up as he started to pack the snow around the stick frame he had built. “We’re like… thatching this bitch. If we get it about—so—high, then we can start curving it inward to create the dome part. It’ll be more like a tapered cylinder, like a watch tower, but it’ll work.”

“Right,” Steve grunted as he stood up, grabbed the bucket again, and walked out into the snowy field. “I’ll be back then, Mr. Architect.”

Steve assisted diligently and didn’t complain as he brought back bucket after bucket full of snow and then stopped to help Eddie pack it all together. Eventually, Eddie was kneeling inside the dome and Steve was on the outside so they could sandwich the snow together and make it stick better.

It was nearly pitch black by the time they finished; it had stopped snowing a while ago, and the sky was clear enough to show the stars and the moon above. Their work was only being illuminated by the moon and the dim light coming from people’s trailers, but it left everything feeling rather private, and nostalgic.

“We gotta leave a hole at the top to let the air out,” Eddie declared, carefully packing the snow into place. Honestly, it looked like it was working and while Steve couldn’t say how long the walls would stay up, Eddie had succeeded in making a snow-dome. 

“Wanna check it out?” Eddie asked as he ducked down and looked at Steve through the small opening in the side of his dome.

“Uhh… sure,” Steve said, before crawling through the entrance. “Make room, wide-load.”

He was teasing of course because Eddie was ridiculously thin and all he really had to do was move over to the side to let Steve in.

“See?” Eddie indicated, gesturing around the dome, before laying on his back.

Steve mirrored Eddie’s position and lay beside him as he stared up at the ceiling of the dome.

“This better not fall on me,” Steve said lightly, having to adjust awkwardly and stick his feet out of the entrance in order to fit.

“Enjoy yourself for once, Harrington,” Eddie teased, before sighing and looking up through the hole in the roof.

It was pretty to look at, even if they only had a small window. You could make out the blackness of the sky and the little pinpricks of light dotting across the expanse, creating a sort of telescope effect.

Really, the only thing Steve could properly appreciate at the moment was being able to rest for the first time since he got here.

He glanced at Eddie, though, who was staring at the sky and breathing calmly—the little puffs of vapour floating away from his lips—a slight smile on his face. He looked peaceful—happy, too. Steve didn’t get to see Eddie pause all that often, and it was nice to see him enjoying the fruits of his labour.

“Thanks for helping out,” Eddie said idly, not looking away from the sky. He dropped his hand slowly and nudged up against the back of Steve’s hand.

“Yeah… of course,” Steve replied, finishing the motion and taking Eddie’s hand to hold. He returned his gaze to the roof, looking at the darkness and the moon that was slowly inching into view.

The two of them grew quietly again, and Steve could feel his sweat slowly starting to chill his body. They should head in soon, but it felt terribly romantic to be out here together now that they had finished Eddie’s snow-dome.

“Steve?” Eddie said suddenly, his voice quiet and distant sounding.

“Yeah, Eddie?” Steve asked, rolling his head to look at Eddie again. He was still staring up through the ceiling, but his smile had faded, and instead, he looked thoughtful as he breathed slowly. Even in the dull light, Steve could tell that his nose was red from the chill and snow had clumped in parts of his hair. He looked young… and there was a wanderlust to him that Steve envied. He liked looking at Eddie when he wasn’t moving around so frantically—the pause always made him look like an artist, and Steve found himself drawn to that. This contemplation that Steve didn’t think he had ever experienced for himself, but that he valued more than anything in others. 

“Do you like me?” Eddie asked, his tone quiet but lacking fear. They were still holding hands and Steve didn’t feel intimidated at all by answering him; they’d been inching toward this anyway, they just hadn’t said it out loud yet.

“… yeah,” Steve answered back, watching as Eddie slowly rolled his head so they were looking at one another.

Steve squeezed his hand and Eddie smiled, looking positively brilliant as he lay there.

“Me too,” Eddie sighed, which made Steve’s breath hitch slightly. It wasn’t always that Eddie looked so happy, and Steve felt softhearted being in the presence of Eddie’s bliss like this. 

Steve reached over slowly with his free hand and touched Eddie’s cheek, stroking along his jaw. It felt right to do this now, and Eddie seemed to have much the same idea as he rolled onto his side and let Steve guide him.

They both scanned each other’s expressions as Steve drew Eddie in closer, their noses brushing together first as Steve felt the sting of cold against his skin. Eddie seemed to be transfixed by him, and Steve could feel the world stopping around them as he sunk into the moment. It felt innocent and romantic, and Eddie seemed to hesitate not out of denial, but out of uncertainty. As if he wasn’t sure what to do at this point now that they were here.

Steve smiled lightly at that and closed the distance between them, kissing Eddie softly as he felt the other man draw in a breath. It was still cold out, but Steve felt a bloom of heat against his skin as their lips met and Steve guided them into a slow roll of their tongues.

At every junction, Eddie seemed to hesitate and then follow suit, marking his actions as inexperienced and timid. That felt like a paradox for Eddie, but Steve didn’t mind as he smiled into the contact and squeezed Eddie’s other hand with his.

They parted eventually, despite Steve staying tucked in close. He could hear Eddie breathing a bit hard as they continued to watch one another quietly.

“Was that…” Steve asked, swiping Eddie’s bangs out of his face. “Your first kiss?”

As if to answer him, Steve saw Eddie’s face turn beet red as he ducked down and away from Steve. He was hiding, and Steve felt his chest explode with adoration at the action.

“Shut up,” Eddie mumbled, hiding as he pressed his forehead against Steve’s chin.

Steve had to close his eyes from how adorable it was. How Eddie had rendered him positively smitten and made Steve’s whole body light up like a Christmas tree.

“Was it bad?” Eddie asked, sounding incredibly small as he continued to hide.

“No,” Steve sighed, sounding almost dreamy as he slid his hand to Eddie’s back and soothed him slightly. “No… just… gentle.”

Steve wasn’t sure how else to describe the contact, and he wouldn’t press Eddie on it any further, but judging from this very likely being Eddie’s first kiss… that probably also meant he was a virgin. A twenty-year-old metal head that was supposed to be the scourge of the devil himself… and Eddie had never so much as kissed someone before.

Steve pulled in a breath to steady himself, his entire body tingling with affection as he held Eddie and just let them lay there in the snow.

“Can we go in?” Eddie asked, still sounding shy. “I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

Steve chuckled and let go of Eddie, rolling onto his back again.

“Yeah, course,” he offered, sighing happily and stealing one last look at the moon before shifting onto his knees and crawling out of the snow fort. 

#BatBoysxPrompts #I don't usually write just pure fluff so this was fun #let them smooch in the ~snow dome~ #I also don't usually write “Eddie has no experience with kissing/being intimate at all” so this was very somft feeling #steddie #my_writing #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fic #background #lumax #BatBoysPrompts

[mithriil]

Good Morning

Larissa Weems x Reader Fluff

I’ve posted this on Ao3 already, but I wanted to archive it on here as well. Just a small little thing I wrote thinking soft thoughts. 

Link to Ao3

Or read it here under the cut. 

A/N:  First time ever writing anything, but this scene just came up and wouldn't leave me alone. :)

Waking up in a bed that is not your own is usually not a very comforting experience. All the more were you surprised when you woke up and realized you felt at peace, content even, for the first time in a while.

The restlessness of the past weeks had left you exhausted and in its wake now only calm and comfort remained.

Feeling the sun on your skin you turned your head towards its direction, breathing in deeply, relishing in your newfound state of quiet serenity.

"Don't move."

She sat facing you, her back to the large windows through which the warm light of the sun fell, in her hands a well worn leather sketchbook and the ink-pen you had thought lost - you would have to ask her later how exactly she got hold of it.

You heard the scratch of a pen, then a light rustle and the sheets laying on top of you moved just slightly.

Smiling, you opened one of your eyes just slightly.

You could just make out her concentrated brow against the light, eyes focused on the book in her hands, long fingers gripping the leather delicately. Hair still slightly unkempt, so different from its usual pristine updo, a blue silk robe only very loosely hanging onto her pale shoulders.

Angling her head just slightly on her next stroke you could make out the little soft hairs across her cheek and jaw - she must have woken up just shortly before you, her clear face and sleepy gaze gave off a domestisticity that you did not realize you craved so much, the view causing a warmth to spread through your chest.

Suddenly she made a low sound in her throat, more felt than heard, the sensation of her voice dripping warmly down your spine, and looked up into your eyes.

Her warm, calculating gaze lingered on you for a few moments before she raised the hand in which she held the pen towards you.

You closed your eyes slightly and felt two of her fingers on your face in the next moment. Slowly they traversed across your brow, down your cheek, stopping shortly at your lips, finally landing on your chin. She raised your face just so, before removing her hand again, a satisfied sound eminating from deep within her chest.

You released the air you hadnt noticed you were holding.

Keeping your eyes closed you listened to her calm breathing. By the time she spoke once more you were almost asleep again, the warmth of the sun, the smell of her perfume and her that marked the bed as hers lulling you back into the dark arms of sleep.  

"Open your eyes."

Her quiet request brought you back and you hazily opened both eyes, seeing her now sitting beside you on the bed. She was holding up the sketchbook you gifted her on a whim weeks ago, showing you what she had been doing this whole time.

In the top left corner stood "Good Morning" in her neat handwriting. It was you. In sleek black lines she had drawn a scene of pure tranquility. Your hair falling in lazy waves, the sheets not fully drawn up, the contours of your legs and hip visible. Your arm in front of your chest, just so conceiling and teasing with the nudity beneath. A small satisfied smile on your face - you hadn't even noticed that you were smiling the whole time.

Raising your eyes from the page you met her curious gaze, already waiting for your response.

Why was it so hard to find words at this moment? You wanted to thank her, yell at her really, your gratitude for... everything, the evening, her cooking, this morning, the drawing and above all her. All you mustered was a quivering smile with tearful eyes, not quite knowing what to say really, just hoping that she would understand you like she did so many times before.

Her face broke into a gentle smile, her eyes almost glowing in the morning light.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #gwendoline christie #* #i return to tumblr after years of inactivity with this #wild #but hello guys if you're still around lol hope you're all well #fanfiction #f!reader #but really you can read it however you want #i dont really describe anything specific

[theteasetwrites]

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 98: Till Death Do Us Part

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 11 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: language, scary situation, blood and gore, character death, typical TWD stuff ❧ Word Count: 6.2k

❧ In This Chapter: With walkers swarming the Commonwealth, Daryl and the others must act quick to get everyone to safety, including you. When the citizens of the Commonwealth come to the governor's gates, there will be Hell to pay.

❧ A/N: Hey guys how convenient that Daryl Dixon is a universal blood donor all of a sudden, amirite? So we're at the finale, and don't get me started. This whole episode is so rushed and lazy and forced and AHH. It really was not the ending we deserved imo, but I'll do what I can with it. For me, the joy in writing this final episode is just the moments between Daryl and his wife. They're so cute. Anyway, please keep in mind that this chapter might be kind of unrealistic and way too convenient because it covers the events of the finale and that's just how they wrote it. I am working with what I got besties.

“Help me!”

He kicked open the glass door, bellowing at the top of his lungs. “Help!”

In and out of consciousness, you could see him, hear him. If you could bring yourself to touch him, you would raise your hand to touch his cheek, but you were numb. Your arms were numb, especially your left. That was when you felt a brief sting, somehow both sharp and dull. There was a tingle running down your arm, where the blood dripped. The taste of pennies on your tongue was more than just faint now, it filled your mouth. 

“You’ll be okay.”

Daryl…

During the brief moments that you could feel, you no longer felt his arms. Your body was laying horizontally now, on some lumpy mattress, in a familiar room. The hospital lobby, where you’d come just a week ago, in much more pain than you were now. Somehow, though, you were more drained, more flimsy. Between slow, laborious blinks, you saw a soldier, running towards the exit, his gun drawn. Another followed, carrying a white case. 

They ran past you, turning the corner. No longer could you see Daryl, perhaps he had been a figment of your imagination. It’d happened before. But no, you heard him again, some words that morphed into each other, creating an unintelligible string, but there were brief clarities.

“...Help…wife…shot…blood…”

A yell, and his body fell, a flash of blue from the painted wing on his vest as he hit the floor. Outside, the herd was approaching. You could see through clouded vision, just through the windows that stretched along the wall. Moreover, you saw the door, completely ajar. 

It took all your strength to wake yourself fully, to lift yourself from the gurney. Stumbling past Daryl’s body, you pushed the first door, a great pang coursing through your left arm. Your right would have to do the heavy lifting, so when it came to the other door, you simply threw yourself against it, your right side pushing hard as a stray walker lodged its hand between the doors. 

A strained grunt escaped your bloody lips as you pushed with all the strength of your good side. It wasn’t enough. The walker pushed, too. With one burst of strength, you stepped back to launch yourself against the glass, the pressure sending the walker back a few feet. The move bought you time to scramble to a nearby desk and push it forward. 

“Come… on…” you muttered, barely able to speak, but your delirious frustration was enough to provoke you. 

You slid the desk towards the door, and just at the nick of time, before the walker could get wedge its body, you pushed it snug against the jamb. That was about all you could do. 

Without much strength left in your legs to hold you up, you steadily crawled to your knees, dragging yourself to Daryl’s body. You pulled yourself with your right arm, desperately making yourself move. “Daryl,” you croaked, reaching out to try to turn him over onto his back. “Daryl, wake up.”

He’d been bludgeoned by a dull weapon, a nasty set of bruises beginning to form on his head and eye. When you were close enough, you lifted his face with shaky, cold fingers. The walkers outside began to pile up, their rotting bodies pounding against the glass doors and windows. With all your might, you tried to pull Daryl’s unconscious body to no avail, it only weakened you more. 

A pounding started in your head, followed by increasingly clouded vision. You blinked several times, each one becoming heavier. As much as you tried to avoid it, gravity was pulling you down, your good hand still grasped tight around Daryl’s wrist as you tried to pull him and you to safety. 

Breath labored, unconsciousness closing in, you made one last tug on his arm, but you didn’t get far before the darkness took over, and your head hit the cold, sterile tile.

At that point, your hand was loosely in Daryl’s, frozen in time. 

He woke with a flinch, and one hell of a headache. 

He’d had worse, but any blow hard enough to knock him out wasn’t to be underestimated. The first face he saw was Carol’s, stoic and cold as always, but comforting, and worried. Confusion settled in when he registered the faint sound of crying. A small moment of panic struck him—he remembered what had happened. If there was crying, there was death. 

He sat up, looking to his left, where the crying was coming from. When the first thing he saw was red, his heart stopped. The worst, however, hadn’t come to fruition. At least, not from this view. Upon the gurney on the other side of the hospital room was Luke, his leg had been severed just below the knee, where the blood was pooling, dripping down the bed. 

Surrounding him were more familiar faces, Connie, Kelly, Magna, and Yumiko—the people Luke was closest to. That’s why they were crying. He didn’t have much time left. Daryl could tell, he’d seen enough people close to death before. 

It didn’t concern him now, it was out of his hands. The slight tickle of the gauze wrapped around his head reminded him of the last conscious moments, the last things he did. As he stripped the bandage from his head, he began to rise from the gurney, already reassuring Carol, “I’m fine.”

“Daryl,” she said, trying to steady him as he rose to his feet. “No you’re not.”

As he moved his disheveled hair away from his face, his heart sank to see you, still unconscious, lying in a hospital bed just feet away from where he lay moments ago. You were pale, limp… nearly lifeless. Nearly was the operative word. 

Upon your left shoulder, closer to your chest, there was a small white towel, stained red where it was soaking up the blood from the wound. His eyes trailing to the ground, he saw the pile of discarded cloths, all turned red and bled completely through. 

He stepped forward slowly, as if careful not to wake you. He was too used to moving like that, to seeing you asleep and conforming to the routine he’d set into place. Never wake (Y/N), she needs her beauty sleep. Well, that’s what you would say. You needed your beauty sleep. 

It struck him, of course, that he couldn’t wake you. “She’s lost a lot of blood,” he said. 

The sobbing from Luke’s bed became louder, more impending of what was inevitable. Cracking voices murmured well-intended reassurances that were untrue nonetheless. You’re okay… Stay with us… 

His heart did ache for them, for Luke. As stoic as he was, he’d lost too many people to be heartless. Some would think he would be immune to it by now, but it was never easy. That was a truth both you and he knew well. It was strange how much you’d both seen together, without ever losing the other. Now, you’d come too close again. Too close to that precipice of death, a fate that soon would welcome Luke.

“All the doctors are gone and the nurses and the medicine,” Carol informed him. 

It was just as he’d feared, after he saw the Commonwealth soldier carrying a white crate just before he was knocked out. 

“Where?”

“We heard Pamela took everything, and she’s holed up in her gated community, and she left the rest of the Commonwealth to fend for itself.”

Course she did, he thought. He’d been trained by you, more or less, not to use the word “bitch.” He’d learned it was a degrading term for women, especially when used by men, and that it should only be used to describe a particularly terrible kind of woman. If he ever used the word in front of Robin, he was sure he’d be sentenced to a night on the couch.

However, in this particular situation, he felt you would agree that it was an apt term to use. Besides, she’d shot you. Any sympathy for her he ever had, though minimal to start with, had evaporated by now. Rich bitch. 

“Well, that’s where we go,” he replied.

“There’s too many troopers,” she said, turning to lift the cloth upon your wound. The blood hadn’t soaked through just yet, maybe the bleeding was slowly, she figured. Still, the lack of blood in your body was becoming dangerous. “Hoping to find somebody to get us in without a fight.”

“What about Mercer? He knows people on the inside.”

“Yeah, Max thinks so. There’s a team after him. Some of the others are looking for the kids, and they’re gonna meet us back here.”

His patience was losing its hold on him, it always did when lives were hanging in the balance. Yours most importantly. Medical supplies, that’s what you needed. If it was being hoarded in the governor’s mansion, he’d storm the building and take the head honcho out himself if he needed to. 

“So we just wait?”

“No, we’re gonna take care of her, and you.”

Carol’s attention focused back on Luke, his dying words strangled in his throat as he gasped for breath. The blood must’ve been pooling in his lungs now, and he had minutes, most likely moments, left of life. 

Daryl looked his way, too, watching bloodied hands cling to each other, making promises to the dying man. When he faded away, his friends huddled around him, arms outstretched over each other as they sobbed. Magna had been sure to get the brain, inserting the knife from the base of his neck. It was the most respectful way to do it, any survivor would know.

When he couldn’t bear their heart wrenching sobs any longer, his gaze wandered, falling upon an IV kit. If he could prevent that same fate from meeting you, he would. There was no hesitation, no doubt in his mind about what he needed to do. 

“I’m gonna give ‘er blood,” he said, determined in his step as he grabbed the medical kit. “You know how to do this?”

“Yeah, but your types have to match.”

Eleven years of knowing each other and the question, “What’s your blood type?” had never come up. You’d asked Daryl all kinds of other inane questions, questions he might’ve found silly at the time, but he always looked back at your curiosity with fondness. That was one of the most beautiful things about you, how you smiled so bright when he’d reveal the most trivial piece of information about himself—his favorite color, his strangest dream, his most embarrassing childhood memories… It wasn’t really trivial. He knew that. Nothing you could ever say or do would be trivial or silly or unimportant to him. 

But you’d never asked about his blood type, and you’d never told him yours. That, as a matter of fact, didn’t even matter.

He ripped the plastic wrap of the IV open with his teeth, then further tore it with his hands. “Mine goes with anybody,” he said. “Merle used to make me sell it when I was a kid for money.” Finally, it would actually pay off. 

As he held the tube of the IV between his teeth, he rolled up his sleeve, the sudden appearance of the rabbit on his arm reminding him of you, as it always did. It was for you, and Robin, and now Wes. It represented everything good and pure in his life, and that was all what you had given him. It was everything he’d sworn he’d protect, from the moment he met you. It was always you.

Carol took the other end of the IV, carefully inserting the needle into the vein of your arm. Thank God you were out—needles weren’t your friend. Even thinking about an IV made you a little lightheaded, so it was good that you were temporarily excused from thinking.

She pinned the other side of the IV at the inside of his elbow, just above your rabbit. Merle’s little childhood scheme had one other benefit: Daryl, unlike you, wasn’t afraid of needles. 

The once translucent tube turned red as his blood transferred to you, who so desperately needed it. He’d give you everything—the skin off his back, the marrow of his bones, the air in his lungs. Every inch of him belonged to you, not anyone else on God’s green earth. 

He made a promise to you that day, that beautiful day you were married. He said he’d be yours until death, in sickness and in health. 

His gaze was held hostage by your face, until a loud clatter from somewhere else inside the hospital demanded his attention. If he’d been in any other situation, he’d immediately run to investigate, but he was tethered to you by blood, his body intertwined with yours, quite literally. 

Instead, Carol picked up her bow. “I’m going to sweep the hospital, make sure the others are okay.”

“We’re coming too,” said Magna.

Carol turned to Daryl just before she left. “You good?”

He only nodded, every hair on his body standing on end. If the walkers got in now, you wouldn’t be ready to go. He’d already strained himself by carrying you, he wasn’t sure he could get very far again. He’d try, God knows he’d try, but he couldn’t risk the possibility of his strength not being enough to save you. 

He needed luck, and relying on luck was a dangerous game. Then again, there wasn’t anyone alive that hadn’t relied on luck for the past eleven years. There wasn’t much else to rely on. 

Soon, he was alone, with you. He’d been alone with you so many times before, so many beautiful times. Even in moments like this, in which the space between you was filled with silence, there was so much there. Even with you unconscious, there was that connection. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed, maybe forty-five minutes, maybe only ten. He became lost in your face, the face he loved so much. Absentminded fingers made their home upon your hairline, stroking your hair back gently. He’d done it so many times, a way to lull you to sleep or calm you when you’d be nearly hyperventilating with tears. He wasn’t sure why he did it now, when there was no way you’d be able to feel that comfort.

Maybe he did it for himself. Maybe he just needed to touch you, to imagine some other reality far, far away. A reality where you weren’t hurt, where nothing could ever hurt you. That’s all he ever wanted for you, from the moment he met you. He just wanted you safe. 

If you’d never told him that night, taken his hands in yours and told him how much you cared for him, he wasn’t sure he’d ever have the courage to confess himself. There must’ve been another universe wherein you never drank too much that night, or you never felt what you did for him. In any universe, in all those universes, he still loved you, and he still devoted whatever time he had left to keeping you safe, happy, loved. 

Even if he had never been the one you chose, for whatever reason you chose him, he would’ve died a thousand deaths for you, the only woman he could ever love this way. The purest heart, the most precious gem, like the one hanging around your neck.

Suddenly, time stopped as your eyes seemed to flutter just a bit, though he swore it was his imagination. No, it was true—you blinked hard, then let your eyes peel open slowly, as if you were afraid to look.

When your hazy eyes fixed on Daryl, you took in a sharp breath. His lips parted softly, one corner just barely curling upwards. “Hey,” he spoke in almost just a breath. His presence was a momentary comfort, but as you became more aware of your body, the pain in your arm, the hospital bed upon which you lay, an unstoppable anxiety took over. 

“What’s… what’s happening?”

His hand kept smoothing over your hair, though you tried to lift up your head, looking frantically around the room. The last thing you remembered was a walker, and a herd of walkers coming towards you. They were bound to be close by. 

“Wh—where are we? Daryl?” Your voice was a frightened quiver as your eyes became drawn to the bloody rag upon your left shoulder. Eyes wide, you looked back up at him, his hair a disheveled mess, the skin surrounding his right eye black and bruised. “What happened?” You tried to raise your left arm, but in it was the IV. Just the sight sent a nausea through you, your head resting back down upon the pillow as dizziness plagued you. “Oh, God…”

Not only that, but the left sleeve of your jacket was soaked through with blood. The skin of your arm dyed red, too. You knew what happened, but you weren’t going to let yourself admit it. 

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re at the hospital,” he said quietly, his own voice much shakier than you wanted it to be. When his voice faltered, you knew something was wrong. It wasn’t his words, it was always his voice that gave him away. 

Still, his hand stroked your hair back in an effort to calm you, to let you know he was there, and that everything would be all right. He wouldn’t let you die, he knew that. That wasn’t in his plan. It just wasn’t going to happen, no way. He was still breathing, still pumping blood. If he needed to pump every last drop of blood inside of him into you, he would. He was planning on it, in fact. He was prepared to do anything. 

Your eyes were trained on him sharply, yet with so many questions. What happened? Where is everyone? Are you all right? You were thinking of everything, of everyone except you, but you kept coming back to one question that couldn’t escape you.

“Am I gonna die?”

“No, no,” he said. Under his words, your voice began to crack. Tears were coming, you knew it, and he knew it. But it was okay, it was right. There was never anything weak about crying. You felt weak, but it takes some strength to cry, so couldn’t be weak. He knew that more than anyone. “You’re not gonna die.”

“It… it… Daryl, it feels like I’m going to die.” Your voice sped up in panicked crying, breaths going much faster than your lungs were prepared for. “What about—about Robin, and Westley? I need to see them before… I can’t just leave them, and you—I can’t leave you…”

“Shh… You’re not gonna die, you’re fine. You’re fine… You’ll see them again, you will. And I’ll take you home, things will be all right again, you’ll see. This ain’t the end.”

Glassy eyes squeezed out little crystal tears, falling over your cheeks. The salty drops pooled in the corners of your lips, diluting the copper taste in your mouth. If it’s not the end, then why does it feel like it?

“But Daryl…”

“This ain’t the end,” he repeated. “I won’t let you go.”

A thick fog distorted your vision, overwhelming your mind. As your eyelids became weighed down, you struggled to stay alert, but another bout of unconsciousness was closing in, like walls tumbling down all around you. Daryl’s visage became blurred, his features losing definition no matter how hard you fought it. 

You couldn’t see his worried expression, and you couldn’t feel his other hand softly batting your cheek, shaking your head. “(Y/N)?” He leaned in closer, speaking louder, though you were out like a light. That couldn’t be good, not at all. You needed treatment. The blood was helping, but you were losing it faster than he could give it. If he could keep you awake, he knew he was keeping you alive. “(Y/N)? Come on, wake up. Come on, angel.”

Crashes and bangs resounded as the impending doom of the hungry herd became more urgent. Carol rushed into the room, proclaiming that the hospital had been breached. 

“I can’t leave,” Daryl protested. “I can’t leave ‘er.”

More failed attempts to wake you, more desperate pleas that fell on deaf ears. 

The only solution, the only way out of this alive, was the Estates. The Miltons and the Commonwealth gentry lived there, and now, they were hiding there, hoarding the last of the medical supplies. 

Night had fallen when they reached the safehouse. Tomi, Yumiko’s brother, was a doctor, and a good one, too. He treated you there, doing what he could to first and foremost remove the bullet. 

The doctor lifted your eyelids manually, using a small flashlight to check your status. “She’s in a fragile state,” he remarked to Daryl. He lifted the cloth to uncover your wound. It was dark red, nearly soaking the entire fabric. “It’s good that you gave her blood. I’ll do what I can.”

That was an hour ago now.

At least now, you were stable, still laying on the hospital bed you’d been brought in with. Daryl didn’t want to touch you for fear of disturbing you, but damn, did he want you to wake up. You’d been shot before, you’d been hurt before, but your body was still weak from giving birth. Even Tomi said it was lucky that you hadn’t bled out before you got there. 

When you began to awake, Daryl stood to his feet, leaning over you to brush back your hair as you came to. It was a dizzying experience, waking up in some unfamiliar home. You didn’t see anyone for the first several seconds, you just looked up at the ceiling, allowing your mind to catch up with your eyes. 

It was like you knew exactly where he was just by feeling his presence. You turned your head to face him, with heavy eyes and parched lips. But those heavy eyes lit up with sparkle, and those parched lips opened up into a wide, toothy grin. “Daryl,” you sighed, every bit of pain leaving your body as soon as you saw him. It felt like coming home. 

His mouth curled into its own smile, a giddy, boyish smirk. Even if you had no idea where you were, or what was happening, all you needed to know, really, was that he was all right, and he was here. That was all you needed. 

“Hey, crazy woman. How do you feel?”

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment as your face scrunched into a playful grimace at his words. “I feel like an idiot,” you said. “Is Maggie okay?”

He shook his head, amused and bewildered by your concern for Maggie. “She’s fine,” he said. “You saved ‘er.”

“Mm… Spur of the moment decision. Didn’t really think I was gonna get shot.” You chuckled under your breath, and as you tried to lift your left arm, you realized it was suspended in a cast, wrapped tight around your shoulder. “Oh…”

“Doctor said you’re gonna be jus’ fine,” he said proudly. “But you scared the shit outta me… Again.”

“And now I’ve been shot in both shoulders,” you said, your right hand gesturing to the right shoulder, the very first place you’d been shot. “That’s got to be good luck or something, right?”

“Sure. Just don’t get shot again, for Christ’s sake. You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

Though he was dead serious, you let out a snort as you reached your free hand up to bring his head down until his lips met yours. “I love you,” you said as you let go of him, but with a furrowed brow, you noticed the terrible black eye and the colossal bruise across his forehead. As you swept back his hair, you turned serious this time. “What happened to your face?”

Now he smiled, once again amused by your concern for him rather than yourself. “Just a black eye. I’ve had worse.”

Only you would be worried about such a minor injury. If Daryl came home with a hangnail, you’d be worried. “That’s a big one,” you said, tracing your fingertip over the bruise, never touching it, only hovering. “I’ve never seen you with one that bad, baby.” Damn that sling your arm was in. It prevented you from grabbing both his cheeks and pulling him against you so he could use your chest as a pillow. “I don’t like it.”

He laughed under his breath, trying not to garner too much attention from the others. “Sorry, princess. If I could get rid of it for ya I would.”

“You still look handsome,” you cooed. “My big, strong—”

“(Y/N)!” Aaron’s voice cut off your imminent embarrassment of Daryl. 

Your eyes shot open as you lifted your head a little too fast for Daryl’s liking. “Easy,” he said, but you sat up with his help. 

“Aaron!” Daryl quickly stepped aside, allowing Aaron to speed across the room. He wrapped you in his good arm, kissing your forehead. “How long have you been here?”

“We came back through the herd,” he huffed, his voice already turning serious. When he pulled away, he looked worriedly at Daryl. As your head volleyed between the two men, your eyes widened in preemptive panic. 

“What happened?” you asked. “Did something happen? Is everyone all right? Lydia… Where’s Lydia? And Jerry, and… and…” Even just speaking so rapidly had you running out of breath. 

“Take it easy,” said Daryl, his hand holding yours. “Everythin’s all right.”

But you knew there was something wrong, the way Aaron looked. He looked like you when you were troubled, when you were trying to figure out how to tell someone bad news. “What is it, Aaron? Just tell me.”

The first thing that came to your mind, of course, was Lydia. That was what it had to be. Aaron knew how much you cared for her, so did Daryl. They both seemed hesitant to say anything. Daryl looked distraught, too, as if something truly terrible had happened. 

You didn’t have to wait for an answer. Lydia herself appeared soon after, standing idly in the archway across the room. You breathed a heavy sigh of relief for just a moment. She was alive, unless you were dreaming, but you couldn’t be dreaming. Everything made too much sense to be a dream.

“Lydia,” you sighed, but she didn’t move. Half her body was hidden behind the wall, you realized, and in her eyes, she seemed to want to smile, but her lips were quivering, as if she was about to cry.

Will someone please tell me what the hell is happening?

She came forward slowly, her eyes not bearing to meet yours. When her full figure started coming closer, you noticed something off—the left sleeve of her sweatshirt seemed to hang loosely, her hand nowhere to be seen. You didn’t need anyone to tell you now. 

“Oh, Lydia.”

She broke down crying then, stumbling towards you. You yourself had only one arm able to hold her, but you held her tight, her tears falling onto the crook of your neck. 

Still holding her, you looked up at Aaron, searching for questions. “What happened?” You had a feeling, of course. 

“She got bit,” he replied. “We, uh… We lost Elijah in the herd. Lydia was reaching for him, trying to hold onto him.”

It seemed so much like Lydia, so much like something you would do, too. If it had been Daryl, you never would’ve let go until the last possible second, and for Lydia, that last possible second was the moment a walker’s teeth dug into the flesh of her arm. 

And you knew, of course, that all Lydia could think about now was him. Finding him. “We’ll find him,” you assured her, combing your hand through dark, silky brown hair. “I promise you. Everything will be all right.”

Gunshots. A sudden burst of appalled screams coming from outside. You turned towards the sounds. As much as you wanted to believe you were safe, you weren’t. The dead were still flooding the streets of the Commonwealth. The walls of the estates, where you were now, were keeping the dead out, but they were also keeping out the civilians. The poor, the working class. They were out there, outside the walls. 

From your limited view out the window, you could see guards on the inside, their guns raised and ready to shoot. 

“What’s going on?” asked Ezekiel, and suddenly you became aware of the rest of the people around you. Thank God everyone was safe, but it wouldn’t be right to let the people outside the walls die just because they weren’t one of the fortunate. It couldn’t be like this, not anymore. The world wasn’t built to be like this. 

“They’re shooting anyone that climbs the gates,” said Mercer. You watched the armored soldier move across the room, picking up a gun and cocking it. Ezekiel approached him, also armed with a gun. “The truck is gassed up with some reserves in the rear.” Mercer’s gaze fell on Aaron, then to you. He seemed to have sympathy in his eyes, even a sense of guilt. “It’s enough to get you home. We can sneak you out the back. This isn’t your fight, these aren’t your people.”

“Yes, they are,” replied Ezekiel, in that voice of his you knew all too well to be his kingly voice. Robin always admired him so. You knew why. You did, too. “And so are you.” He paused for a moment, looking around at the others. When he spoke again, you knew he was going to make a stand. “You may not think this place is worth saving, and I get that, given how they treated us. But it’s worth it to me. The people are worth it, and I’m not gonna allow them to fall without a fight. Not today. I’m with you. Who else?”

“Yeah.” Aaron was the first to speak up. That was just who he was. You were proud of him. You always were. “We can do more than just save ourselves. We need to.”

More followed suit—Connie, Kelly, Eugene, Lydia, Maxine, Rosita… It felt like the way it had felt so many times before. The people were different, save yourself and a few others, but it was what Rick had fought for. It was the family that made everything else worth it. You couldn’t help but think of the beginning, how those bombs had dropped on Atlanta and struck fear into your heart. 

Back then, you didn’t think you’d live to see the sun come up the next day. For eleven years since then, you’d seen thousands upon thousands of days. Moments became memories, and time never stopped because time was yours to make. It wasn’t going to stop now, either. There was too much to be done, too much to change. 

It was time to make a stand.

Daryl didn’t let you move a muscle, of course. You couldn’t blame him. The last time you’d convinced him to let you into the line of fire, you ended up getting shot. Still, it didn’t keep you from watching everything that unfolded. After all, you had told Daryl, you were going to need to write it all down in your journal, for posterity. 

From your vantage point, you saw Mercer, followed by dozens of armed soldiers, approaching the governor. She stood at the gates, just watching the civilians clamoring to get in. “Lower your weapons!” Mercer bellowed, though Pamela’s soldiers seemed conflicted. 

“Arrest them,” she said. 

Even her general gave her a questioning look. “Ma’am…” 

That’s when your people poured in between tanks, guns at the ready. Through binoculars, you kept an eye on Daryl, who filed in with Carol and Gabriel. Ezekiel led another group from the other flank. “Back up! Back up!” he yelled to Milton’s guards. They stepped back, but kept their weapons up. You couldn’t tell from this angle, but it looked like she was outnumbered, or maybe they were equal. In any case, Pamela had some things to answer for. 

The woman did shoot you, but you didn’t much care about that. What she was doing to the Commonwealth, what she was about to let happen to these people outside the gates, was inexcusable. 

“Traitors!” Milton yelled at Mercer. In the distance, the crying, pleading voices of citizens as they banged on the gates resounded. Faintly, you swore you could hear the impending growls of the dead as they made their way closer. Something needed to be done quickly, before it was too late. 

“No,” replied Mercer. “You are, Governor. You disappeared hundreds of citizens, led the dead to our doorstep. And now you’ve left thousands out there to die.”

The shouting and clamoring became louder as the walkers steadily approached. You swallowed hard, just wishing you were out there, able to do something. “Come on, someone open the gates,” you mumbled to yourself. 

“Let us in!” a man cried, shaking the bars of the gate furiously. You adjusted the binoculars to try to look past the crowd, but it was hard not to. There were so many. They began to cry, desperate for a way out. You knew it all too well. They were losing their home, and that had happened to you more times than you could count. 

Just when you were about to lose your cool, Gabriel lowered his weapon, crossing over to the gate. It was a peculiar move, but you knew what he was doing—he was going to open the gate, no matter what happened. 

“General,” said Pamela.

“Stop!” the general cried.

“We’re opening the gate and letting these people in,” Gabriel replied, his voice calm and his words final. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to stop me.”

The general had her gun raised, pointed towards Gabriel. “Stop or we will be forced to shoot you!”

“We’ll fire back,” you heard Carol reply, her gun trained on the general. 

Gabriel didn’t stop, and you knew in that moment that you would have to make special note of his bravery. When you first met the preacher, you didn’t think much of him. In fact, at one point, you hated him for selling out your people, claiming you were all “evil.” Well, that was a long time ago now, and some days you still thought back to that moment in the church, when Daryl had been taken by the Saviors. Gabriel was a good man, even if God wasn’t.

“Shoot him!” Pamela commanded.

Gabriel raised his gun, about to shoot the lock, but one of the guards was about to follow Pamela’s orders—he held his gun to Gabriel’s head.

“Stop!”

You could recognize that voice from anywhere. Of course, it was Daryl. He stepped forward, no guns in his hands. It worried you a little, your heart racing as you chewed nervously on your lips. There were now guns trained on him, and he had no way to defend himself. Maybe all he needed, though, were his words. Daryl was never much of a public speaker, but you wholeheartedly believed he could do just about anything. 

“We all deserve better than this,” he said, looking towards the gate. He turned back to the governor. “You built this place to be like the old world. That was the fuckin’ problem.”

No one ever said Daryl was polite. 

“If I open the gates, the dead will get in, not just the living.”

“If you don’t, you’re gonna lose everything anyway.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, just a little. It was going to be so wonderful to write about your own husband’s bravery now. With Gabriel and the others, you only paraphrased their words. With Daryl, you’d be sure to memorize what he said verbatim. Well, maybe you’d leave out the cursing, just so Robin and Westley could read it. 

“We got one enemy,” he added, before making his way towards the gate. “We ain’t the walking dead.”

That seemed to sway the general. She commanded the guards to lower their weapons. Never in all the years you’d known him had you been more proud of Daryl. You knew he’d think it wasn’t a big deal, that he would’ve done what anyone else would’ve done, and that Gabriel was the real hero, but maybe you were a little biased. Just a little.

As Gabriel opened the gate, Daryl and the others helped pull it back, letting in a stampede of crying, terrified citizens. They flowed in, some tripping over others, but they all made it just at the nick of time. The walkers were pushed back by the gate, none of them making it in, but it would only be a matter of time before they put too much pressure on the bars. You’d seen it before, the weight of just one herd. If they get hungry enough, they’ll power through anything. 

With Pamela arrested, and the last bastion of the Commonwealth’s forces finally banding together against the dead, it was time to fight the real enemy, just as Daryl said. Quickly, you scrawled everything down with your good hand. It was history in the making, you were sure of that. 

~

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#daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus #the beginning series #theteasetwrites series #theteasetwrites fanfiction