#they often did it behind curtains but also did it right before they went into the ice so their breathing was freshly in sync

[formula1blog]

Carlos Sainz 55- spending time

Carlos Sainz x Fem!Reader

Summary: you and your boyfriend finally have a day to yourselves. You want to make the most out of it.

Wc: 2,8k

Warning: lots of nicknames, translated Spanish, Some smutt at the end MDI!

DON'T USE MY WORK PLEASE

It was one of those days when you and your boyfriend both had the day off. It didn't happen often. Carlos was always traveling or training for the next race. He was on the other side of the globe most of the time. Being a personal stylist yourself and having your own mode magazine didn't leave you with a lot of spare time. You traveled a lot in the fashion season, attending shows and even walking some yourself. The thing was that when you had to travel, Carlos was home and vice versa. Of course you both visited each other at your work, supporting each other career. But both of you having free time was rare, so this was a special day. 

This is how you found yourself in bed cuddled up against the chest of your Spanish boyfriend. You sun had woken you up because you had forgotten to close the curtains after last night's encounters. Both of you hadn't moved to close them, to wrapped up in each other's embrace. Your finger was painting circles on his bare chest as his hand went to massage your head. "This is nice." Carlos whispered, echoing your own thoughts as you both basked in the peacefulness of the morning. The world outside seemed to fade away, forgotten in the midst of your shared connection and the desire to simply be together. You knew you wanted to spend some time outside of your home today and for that you had to get up. 

"We can go out for breakfast. I fancy some tortilla Espanola." You look up at your boyfriend, the corners of your mouth moving up in a smile. Carlos returned your smile, his eyes twinkling with warmth and affection as he leaned in to place a sweet kiss on your head. "Just give me a couple of minutes, mi vida. Then we can head out," he promised, his voice filled with tenderness and love. You hum in response. Carlos's fingers continued to weave through your hair, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as you fought the urge to drift back to sleep. You didn't want to 'waste' this day together by laying in bed all day. You wanted to make the most of every moment spent in each other's company.

Eventually you both got out of bed. Your Dior slip on dress had moved a bit in your sleep, your side boob hanging out. "We can also just take it off completely." Carlos tucked on the dress a mischievous smile on his lips. Before he could take it off you slap his hand away. "You have to waite till tonight cariño. I want to go for breakfast first." he groans in response way too eager for your love right now. You laugh at him as you walk towards the bathroom. It had been your routine that Carlos would make you both a cup of coffee as you went to get dressed. After that you could pack as he took a shower. So that was exactly what you were both doing right now.

Carlos was sitting in the kitchen making two cups of coffee as he heard you singing in the other room. He smiled to himself. He really won in life with you. You walk out of the bathroom in only your blouse looking around for your necklace that you couldn't find. Carlos followed you with his eyes, sometimes looking down at your but. When he noticed that you were looking for something he stood up and went to stand behind you. Putting his hands in your waist he asks "What are you looking for?" You turn around facing him and look up to see in his eyes. His gorgeous big brown puppy eyes. "One of my Vivienne Westwood necklaces. The one that you got me. I don't know where I put it. "

"I got you lots of those." You were obsessed with her jewelry line and he just had to give you everything you looked at for more than one second. You had quite the selection of her stuff. "I know you did. I am forever grateful for that even if I tell you that you don't need to get me those." He shrugs his shoulders knowing he would buy you another right now. "The Valentina Pendant. Have you seen it?" 

"Is that how you are going out." Carlos asks with a smile on his face as he looks at you still not wearing a skirt. A confused look appeared on your face thinking he didn't like what you were wearing before you saw that your legs were still bare of any clothes. 

He did indeed see it a couple minutes ago. He lets go of your waist much to your own disliking and walks to the coffee table. The necklace was laying on top of the current book you were reading. He picked it up and walked back to you. He moved your hair to the side and put it around your neck. "Thank you." You turn around and stand on your tip toes to give him a kiss. He pulls you right back when you want to leave. His hands had moved down to your ass, squishing it a bit. You smile into the kiss and you almost give in to him. "Not now, Carlos. We have things to do. Go get ready!" 

"Alright" He sighs. "There is coffee for you on the counter." He kisses your head and walks towards the other room. You thank him and grab your drink. Sitting down on one of the chairs you check your mail for any important news. You saw a new invitation for a fashion show and some questions about collaborating. You put them unread not wanting to answer them right away. You put your empty cup into the sink, also cleaning up after Carlos who hadn't yet cleaned up his stuff.

You ran back to the bedroom and walked out, this time wearing the skirt you wanted to wear. You checked if you had everything in your bag before walking out of the apartment. 

You walk hand in hand through the busy streets of Madrid. Even though you had moved in by Carlos two years ago, the city never disappointed you.

You can't help but smile as he pulls out a chair for you to sit and you exchange warm glances. His efforts to showcase the beauty and charm of Spain never go unnoticed, but you playfully resist admitting that it is indeed the best country. 

Carlos leans in closer, a playful glint in his eyes. "Come on, admit it. You know Spain is the best," he teases, nudging you gently.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Maybe it's pretty great, but I'll never say it's better than my home country."

The waiter approaches, interrupting your conversation, and you both place your orders. The suspense of your upcoming show hangs in the air as you share with Carlos that you received an email about a performance.

"So, when's the show? I can't wait to see you up there, shining on stage," he says with a grin, his eyes full of admiration.

"I still need to check the details. Don't want it to clash with any plans," you reply, a warm feeling of gratitude for his support. He nods his head agreeing with your statement. 

As you sit at the cozy, sunlit table outside your favorite cafe in Madrid, you can't help but reflect on the memories you have made in this vibrant city. Three years back you were here on a holiday with a couple of friends. That was the moment that you met the man in front of you. The love of your life. You had gotten lost in the crowded streets and asked a stranger for directions. He walks you towards your destination and gave you his phone number. You hadn't sent him a message right away, scared that he may be a creep. Your friends had convinced you after they heard you say his name. They knew he wasn't a creep. He is your future husband. 

You both look up by the sound of the waiter approaching your food. You take the food and thank him before turning back to your conversation. 

"I cleared by schedule for next week so I can come to Imola with you." You say and take a bite from your tortilla Espanola. His face lights up as you mention it. "Really? I already have a paddock pass for you. You are going to bring me luck." You smile at him. It had been some time since you were in the paddock. You really hated yourself for not being there so often as other wags. They all have their own jobs and they still managed to visit their boyfriends. 

After your brunch you walk through some shops. Carlos had bought a new suit for an upcoming event he had to attend. You had bought a matching dress for the event and a new top for next race weekend. 

Right now you were walking in a Victoria Secret and were looking at some new lingerie sets. The last two were broken after some fun activities you had done with Carlos. "What about this one." He shows the set to Carlos. It was a blue one, with lace trim and a little heart on the nipple coverage.

"It is beautiful, just like all these others you have chosen." He sat admiring you in every piece. He was already carrying some of the sets you had picked out and you disliked the idea of him having to waite much longer so you got dressed in your own clothes. When you got out of the changing room Carlos had already paid for everything and was carrying your bags. When you asked for them he just gave you his hand and walked out of the shop. 

"You didn't have to pay for that. I got my own money." 

"What kind of boyfriend would I be to let you pay. Everything you want i will get it for you, mi amor." He kisses your cheek. You blush at his words. "What if I wanted to get a special limited edition car that cost way too much." 

"Then I get it for you. Do you have anything in mind right now. I know that you want a Porsche. I can get it for you. Or a Ferrari, I personally really like those." He jokes in the last sentence. 

It was getting late and you were walking back. "Want to get some ice cream?"Carlos asks as he points towards a Gelato shop. 

"Won't your trainer disapprove?" You ask, knowing that ice cream isn't part of his training and dieting schedule. You are pretty sure it is somewhere at the bodem, just under all other delicious food.  "What he doesn't know doesn't hurt him. Lets go." He takes your arm and together you walk to the shop. The line isn't too long and you can already order after five minutes. 

"I love ice cream." You lick your cone. You had gotten a cone with pistache and white chocolate. You always take the same, can't go wrong with pistache. It is the best. Carlos had a cone with a vanilla scoop. A bit basic, but always delicious too. 

Carlos was still carrying your bags so he couldn't take your hand for the rest of the walk home. You had tried multiple times to ask to hand over your bags, but he just shrug and walked further.

You had stopped and took a picture of the sunset. While you were doing that Carlos took pictures of his sunset, You. For him you are the most beautiful thing in this universe. When you were done it didn't take long to reach your apartment. 

He opens up the door for you to walk through and you find yourself back in your home. You go to sit on a chair and take off your heels. "Finally free." Carlos shakes his head. He knows that those heels go and hurt your feet after more than one hour and still you refuse his suggestion to wear more comfortable shoes. 

Carlos walks towards the bathroom and you take this as your cue to run to your bedroom. You grab your Victoria secret bag and take out one of the sets that you had just bought. Carlos hadn't seen this one yet. It was a red piece with little coverage. You put it on and admire yourself in the mirror. You hoped he liked it. 

You heard the door open again and you went to place yourself on the bed. "Carlos, can you come here real quick?" You say as his footsteps get closer. You see him stop right in his tracks as his eyes stop you. "Mierda, eres tan Hermosa." he breathes out as he walks closer to you. He goes to sit on the bed and you lock eyes. His hand grabs your chin as he moves your head closer to his. Your lips touch into a deeply kiss as a soft moan escapes his lips. You move yourself onto his lap. 

You start to move your hips into his and Carlos groans at the sudden movement against his dick. The bulge in his pants was growing with each movement that you made. A moan leaves your mouth at the growing feeling under you. His lips attach to your neck as his hands move you closer to him. He leaves a trail of kisses down to your breast before staying in one place which was definitely going to leave a mark tomorrow. Your finger tucks on his shirt mentioning it that it has to go off. "It isn't fair that you are still wearing all of your clothes." He removes one of his hands from your ass and takes off his shirt. 

You go from his lap to help him with his belt. You stroke your hand over his throbbing area, this time a louder moan leaves his mouth and it sounds like heaven to you. Tonight the neighbors won't be getting any sleep.  You go further down the bed as Carlos takes of his pants leaving him in only his underwear. He towers over you both hands on either side of your head. He leans back down to place a kiss on your lips. You gasp as his hands move up your leg towards your wetness. He slips in his tongue when your mouth opens. "So needy for me already." He says as his fingers stroke over you pussy. The thin fabric of the lingerie doesn't do too much as you feel yourself asking for more. "Please, Carlos. I need you to touch me. "

He smirks. He pulls down your panties. He puts in one finger helping your adjust to it a bit before adding another. He keeps kissing you as he starts pumping his finger into your pussy. Moans leave your mouth as he takes up the speed. "So beautiful. So loud and all for me."He leaves a kiss between your breast. Your riding his fingers had been something you looked forward to since this morning. He feels you getting closer around his fingers and he takes them out just before you reach your climax. You groan in frustration as you feel empty. "Why?" You cry out. He places another kiss to make it up. "I want you to come all over my cock, princessa."

He takes off his underwear and his already hard cock  springs out. You moan at the sight of it. "Please, just fuck me. " He puts his dick by  your entrance moving it a bit up and down. Your hand fly in to his hair pulling in frustration. You need him now.

He enters you and fills you up. Pain went over you but it was fast replaced with pleasure as he began to move in and out of you. Your hands grab the duvet under you  and the feeling of pleasure goes over you. "Papi, faster" You scream out. Carlos didn't mind if everyone heard you. Right now was all about love. He picks up his pace and your eyes roll into the back of your mind. You feel a familiar knot forming in your belly and you know you are close "Don't stop, please I am so close." He feels himself getting closer to his own orgasm as you tighten around him. He goes a bit faster and you back arches. Heavy panting is heard as you both come riding out  your orgasms. 

Carlos catches his breath before sliding out of you an empty feeling leaving you behind. He walks to the bathroom and gets a wet towel. He helps clean you up and places a kiss on your mouth. " I love you, mi vida." He lays next to you and you put your head on his chest. " I love you too."

#carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x you #Carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz 55 #carlos sainz x oc #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz #f1 #formula 1 #carlos sainz imagine #f1 imagine #formule1 #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 x reader

[kombuuuu]

Saviour of Mine.

Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

“You want stitches, big boy.”

“You gonna' stay on top of me?”

“No, but I'll make it hurt real nice.”

warnings : a little jealousy, not enjoying the spiderciety, a tad angst, more medical stuff i don’t know shit abt, misunderstandings, creepy obsession by a teacher, it gets better at the end promise,

requested by @viozxe :3 my boy my love i love him (gatekept this image for like two weeks but i finally have somewhere to use it)

For a man so true to his word, Miles had a thing for flaking on you.

You hadn’t seen him in around six hours. The event he had fled from leaving you dressed in your nicest clothes, looking like a sweet mess surrounded by family members not your own. After the first forty or so minutes, you had politely excused yourself from his Mama Rio and Officer Jefferson — Who both insisted you refer to them by their first names — , and booked it out of there.

You'd assumed he'd ran off with his little spider-clique. Something you'd rather not join, considering your particular distain for the man in charge. Who so happened to have quite the distaste for you, also. Avoiding the mirage of spider people had been relatively easy thus far, with the multi-versal gaps and all. But when Gwen Stacy had started to come see Miles more often — You would have to either sit through the excruciating task of listening to them talk. Which involved a lot more intimate moments than you were comfortable with being witness too. Or leave whilst she was there, and presumably not talk to Miles for a few hours — or.. days. Depending on wether he ditched you for her or not.

Having your best friend, of which you had fallen infatuated too, try and get with another girl right on front of you, any time they were together? Not the most ideal of situations. So you went home.

—

You cradled the led pencil on your dominant hand, other tapping to the beat of the song playing through your headphones. Sweet R&B to soothe your woes, whilst you focused on the homework in front of you.

You grabbed the rubber, sighing in exasperation and starting to scrub at your page, getting a little too frustrated and tearing the flimsy paper in the process.

You stared at the tear for a moment before borderline yelling, a tearless sob escaping you before you dropped your head against your desk. Slumping down into a flopped position.

You had to complete this by Monday, you knew that. Mr. Warren was the nicest teacher at your school. He’d helped you when you parents couldn’t. Taken you in — you’d even told him about Miles. He didn’t seem to like him very much, said it was a shame they shared a first name. You thought it was a crazy coincidence.

You slowly slid off your chair, pushing it back on its wheels as you went until eventually you were rested lying on the ground, staring at the window of your room.

Golden light shone through your curtains in a bright calling, basically signalling your escape as it sung to you.

You stared for another solid minute before groaning, Mr. Warren could wait.

Avidly ignoring the ache in your chest at the thought of finding Miles with the current focus of his interest.

You crawled to your closet and reached for the handle, still on the floor — before remembering your Van Der Waals and just using the tip of your fingers to lazily pull it open.

You snorted at yourself, before shuffling through the box at the bottom of your closet and pulling out the sleek spider suit.

The next minute was spent trying to energetically shuffle on your suit, and get your adrenaline running. Which proved working when you were rather excited — or antsy — to swing your way around the city.

You closed your window behind you, crawling up your building and letting the cold air force you more awake.

You backed up, jumping a little hop as you did. Bouncing on your feet before you ran, leaping off your building in a refreshing spin.

An excited yelp left your mouth before you shot a web to the next building over, using the top of a bus on the bust Brooklyn streets to boost your momentum, gradually gaining speed as you swung through the city in a series of twists and flips. Graceful swinging amidst a series of fumbling and laughing to yourself, still somewhat new to the spider-person talents.

You pulled out your phone, the small thigh pocket you had specially designed for your suit making it easier to carry your essentials around when you were in no need for over coats.

You stuttered in your swings, a small squeak escaping you when you almost hit a bird, yelling out a “Sorry!” to the poor thing.

The thwip of your web attaching to a near tall building sent another rush through you, curving yourself between two structures and landing on top of a bell tower. The same one you and Miles had been visiting together for the past year. You tripped a little over your own feet before righting yourself, smiling under the mask.

You didn’t need those other spider people, didn’t need a “Community to fall back on.”—, as that Miguel had put it.

You had yourself, Miles, and a teacher that supported you. And that’s all you needed.

—

You dialled Miles’ number. The irony of your inner statement making you cringe a little. You inner voice convincing you that literally no one else can hear you be embarrassed. You were speaking in your head. Your other—, more combative, inner voice— saying otherwise.

You willed them both quiet as your phone rung.

Miles’ cute face being showing on the profile photo, you stared at it as you waited, foot tapping the cement bell tower.

His face was in your hands, and smiling that charming smile he always did. His cheeks were squished in your hold as you kissed his cheek, holding the camera.

It was a romantic photo, if not for the fact you were best friends. You found yourself getting jealous of your past self. Chastising her for not relishing in that moment further.

Your phone beeped twice, signalling the call ringing out. You stared at it curiously, Eyes of your mask tilting into confused slants.

“C’mon man, pick up.” You whispered to yourself, glaring at the device in your hands and trying again.

When he didn’t pick up then, either — you had started to get impatient. And ended up rolling your eyes at him.

Muttering curses along with phrases of envy under your breath.

You had nothing against Gwen, in all honestly, she was a perfect fit for him — charming and troubled just like he was. Able to bond over their shared issues and shared interest.

Like each other.

You scoffed and shoved your phone back into your pocket, before angrily shooting a web, and slinging away.

Going to a bodega you knew always cheered you up to get rid of the mood you had out yourself in.

—

You walked out of the bodega with your bag in hand, your other waving joyfully to the owner, Hoa, the sweet lady you had met three weeks after moving here. Who made the best Bánh Mi you could find. You pet her cat on the way out, the sweet Turkish Angora purring as she nosed along your hand.

Hoa yelled out for you to “Come back whenever, Spider. On the house, next time.”

“Never on the house, Hoa.”

Her annoyed grumbles fades the farther away you walked. Skipping a bit as you pulled out the food, crisp bread with all the fillings you loved making the first bite look heavenly. You had the urge right then to pull up your mask in front of every flashing camera just to taste that home made bread.

You sighed your compliments instead.

“She never misses.”

“Who never misses?”

You startled at the civilian that had approached you, his tall stature and spiky nature making him stand out so much you wonder how you hadn’t noticed him.

Maybe your spider senses were distracted with your food.

“Oh— uh..,” You sucked your teeth for a second, eyes darting curiously around, wondering why he wasn’t just like the other civilian. Taking photos and videos of you as you walked past — ever fascinated by the new “Hero” around. You would barely call yourself that, but it’s what the people deemed you.

“My.. Friend.”

The man bent down by the waist, hands behind his back as he started walking with you.

“Name’s Hobie. Guessin’ your ‘friend’ made tha’ sweet lookin’ sandwich, mm?”

“Mm.. She uh— Oh, I’m —!..” You paused, tripping over your feet and scuffing your shoes. You cringed under the mask, stuffing the food back into your bag.

“..Spiderwoman.. She makes good food. Yup.”

Hobie snorted at how quick you were about to reveal your identity to who you assumed to be some confident civilian.

You awkwardly walked with him, every now and again glancing longingly at your sub as he leisured in his pace. Taking his sweet time walking who knows where whilst you begrudgingly accompanied the stranger — or not stranger. Acquaintance.

“Ya’ real confident for a Spidey.” Hobies’ sarcastic voice drawled, sniffing and scrunching his eyebrows before his face relaxed into a teasing smile again.

You side glanced him, otherwise focused on trying to leave the conversation. “Well considering there’s only three — two, of us.” You giggled nervously, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Rest in peace, Spidey-1.” You — somewhat — joked.

Hobie let out a snort and choked on his breath, laughing at your awkward nature.

No wonder Miguel hadn’t let anyone even mention your lack of inclusion to the Spider-force.

Not after the first day of trying to convince you, anyhow.

It would have been utterly humiliating to be bested by someone who couldn’t hold a conversation for the life of her.

Hobie had a lot of respect for you, right off the bat. He knew the moment that Miguel (and Jess) had come back from Miles’ universe — pissed off and *alone — that you hadn’t been persuaded. And considering Jess and Miguel had a rather unique skill with their convincing, feeding off vulnerabilities in younger Spider-people to be the lack of parental figure in their lives, or elder — to have relatability in their pains. It wasn’t technically ill intended, but Hobie thinks it’s more than a little manipulative.

So to have you — someone he’s seen is vulnerable, hurting, easy; not fall victim to the duos tactics, and actively *berate them for it.

He was well awed.

And his brotherly instincts kicked in terribly fast. He thinks he sees a lot of himself in you. Awkward and growing into yourself, struggling against the high standards you were held to as a spider. And fighting from that box people tried to put you in.

So yeah, well awed would be an understatement. Proud would be a criminal understatement.

So when he had been looking for Gwen, trying to show her some stupid thing Pavitr had sent him just to show her — and realised she was gone. He checked his watch, lo and behold, she was in your universe.

Meaning she was with Miles, who rather actively tried to steer you away from his spider drama. Right now, though? He was distracted.

And what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

He walked with you for a while longer, letting you both get comfortable in the silence of a stranger.

“This ain’t weird f’ you, mate?”

You had both ended up at some alleyway, filled with stalls of food and bustling people pausing in their tracks to stare at the oddly placed pair of Hero and “Random Punk?”

“Not quite. I’ve had weirder interaction with weirder guys.”

He nodded in acknowledgment.

“Yeah, Guess ‘m not as weird as some villains.” The brit droned, dropping down to your height and eyeing the stalls as you passed, pocketing some things from stores he knew as bigger organisations.

“I was talking about regular people, but yeah those too.”

He laughed, grinning at your dry humour and nodded again, leaning into your view and smirking at your adjusting lenses.

You reached the stall you were looking for, the girl greeting you with a smiling “Hi, Spidergirl!”

Your eyes shrunk, “Spiderwoman, Spiderlady, Spider — and you chose the most demeaning.”

“Well, you are built rather girl like, young and spry and — oh, is that Hoa’s Bahn Mi?”

You nodded enthusiastically at Avanti, dropping your hand into the bag and pulling out a cookie you’d saved for her.

Hobie watched the interaction from stood behind you. Slipping in a “You had a spare cookie this entire time?”

You snorted and Avanti handed you a peach ice tea and a couple of her home-made desserts in a Spider-man themed lunch box. A note reading “Got this just for you — brin bring it back!!” placed on top, you glanced up, putting the lunch box in your bag as you did so and thanked her before you and Hobie were off again. “Seriously, the whole walk. No cookie.”

You laughed at his pouting tone, “I’ll get you one, next time, big man.”

He draped his arm over your shoulder, leaning some weight on you and started talking about random things he could think about during the trip back to your apartment.

You’d grown to enjoy his company, the older man — and his lack of filter — being oddly entertaining. You quipped, and he quipped back. Not enough for you to really trust him seeing your apartment, but enough that you set the boundary on your block.

“Hey Hobes, this has been a really good talk—,”

“Gotta ge’ back to ya’ Spiderin’, aye?”

You smiled up at him, lenses sliding into a pleased expression. “Yeah, real difficult stuff y’know? Saving the city and all that.”

He nodded along with you, right as his funky watch (that did not at all match his outfit, but looked to be bedazzled with a series of metal spikes) beeped. He brought his arm up and checked the small screen, face morphing into one of annoyance. “Aye’. Right timin’ mate, cause I just got a call from HQ.”

“Ahh.. Big cooperation?”

“Not in a million years, brutha’. More like a socie’y.”

He looked up at you and grinned. “Miguel really don’t like when I flake out on ‘im.”

You paused a second while Hobie fiddled with his watch, reaching into his back pocket while checking for anyone around. When he found no one, he slipped out his spiked mask and slid it on.

You stared, dumbfounded.

He clapped your shoulder again, scoffing amused at your wide-eyed expression.

“Was this —“

“A ploy f’ you ta’ join the Spider socie’y? Not a’ all, mate.” He sniffed, itching his head through his mask and squeezing your shoulder.

“I right respect ya’ f’ not joinin’. Wish I woulda’ had ya’ will at my age.”

“Oh… Thanks…”

He nodded at you, Lenses squinting.

“Yeah but, I gotta dip, Gwen’s not distractin’ Miguel with sneakin’ off no more. He pro’bly realised I was gone too.”

“Yuh huh…”

“Bye, [Name].”

You blanched one last time before he shot a web onto your neighbouring apartment building, opened a portal mid-air, and flung himself through.

“What the fuck..” You whispered to yourself, perplexed at the interaction that had just occurred.

“What the hell.”

—

It was two hours later, when you were full of Bahn Mi, Pastries and Ice Tea, rethinking everything he’d said; when his last words caught up to you.

Gwen’s out of this universe. Not in the figurative sense — Although she is everything everyone wants to be, but you’re gonna ignore that — So where the hell was Miles?

It was late now, Moon shining a casted light through your living room drapes just as the Sun had onto your bed hours prior.

You gradually dragged yourself from your couch, reaching over your coffee table with great effort to reach your charging phone.

You huffed, giving up and snatching your web slinger from the floor by your feet and shot a web to grab your phone, tugging it off the charger. The thicker part yanked out the wall instead, landing hard on your torso with a dull thump. You scrunched your face up and grumbled, cursing at the thing while you pull your phone off the now useless charger and throw it on the floor.

“Fuckin’ asshole…”

You flipped your phone, eyes widening when your lock screen lit up with a series of notifications. All getting progressively worse. Your spider-senses growing in alert.

miles (o O) 7:42 PM

haiiii

gwen left

u should’ve hung w us

haha

get it \(^ W ^ )\

hung

cause spider

i’m comigg to home now

yoii r home

soffy swinginf

waiiiiiiiiiixixiiixkm jjj fd

bab guy ine secon

The messages abruptly stopped, being replaced entirely by a series of calls. Some left voice messages, some not.

You clicked on a recorded voice message.

(miles (o O) Left a Message at 7:46 PM.)

“Hey, [Name]!” Miles’ cheery voice rang out through the speakers, bringing a lovesick smile to your face despite the off feeling you had in your chest.

“Just gonna — Oof, hey man! Not cool. — Gonna take care of this guy before—,” A pause and a grunt. “,—Before I come home to you, yeah? Pick up soon I wanna know what you’re doin’.” A begrudged shout sounded far from the speaker. “Are you on call right now?”

“It’s important!”

“We’re fighting!”

“I have a life loser—“ Three harsh beeps rung out, signalling the end of the voicemail.

You clicked on a few more, just quick tidbits of him complaining you not picking up, and fighting an unknown villain. Also complaining how he missed you and “This guys is not goin’ down!” He shouted louder; “C’mon man! I have somewhere to be!” “Suck my dick Spiderman!” “Woah—! Well don’t get angry now, asshole!”

“Hypocrite!”

“Am not!”

“Are too—“ Three beeps.

You clicked again.

“[Name], Please pick up! This guy can— Fuck! — You dickhead!” A beat played and a cough was heard. Your frown deepened.

“I’m at the—“ Cut off.

You checked for another voicemail, one continue the one left off. A worried scrunch in your nose. There wasn’t one.

Right as you were going to call him back, his profile photo popped up again, you pressed answer with a lip between your teeth.

“Miles?” laboured breathing came through the speakers, wet gasps and sniffled coughs every now and again. He was silent for a full minute before answering you.

“Hey, [Name]..” His voice was gravelling and deep, sandpaper against softened lips.

He sounded tired, and your heart rate picked up in fear, almost like he could hear it. “Fuck..,” He whispered into the phone, groaning. Holding the phone loosely on his end, as apposed to the anxious grip you had on on yours.

“I’m.. Stuck in some construction site.” He gasped. “Miles what the hell—!”

“Mi Vida, please. The guys not—“ A loud crash made the speaker in your phone crackle. A whispered “Shit.”, before he hung up.

You wanted to call back, but from his whispering, and panicked tone, you could only guess he was trying to hide.

Whoever this villain was, they weren’t giving up.

—

You followed his tracker, the location he was pinged at getting closer by the second. You breathed hard against the force of wind, dropping down into a run on where the location was set to be.

“Fuck, fuck— Miles where are you?..”

Your footsteps were light, crouching under concrete slabs and tip toeing around loose gravel. Red light was cast along unfinished floors and crumbling walls. Shadows reaching towards you from the corners of your eyes. Your spider senses were on high alert, at a constant buzz. They suddenly upt in pitch and you flinched around, almost screaming at the hand covering your mouth. Pressed harsh against your face, and another around the back of your head so you couldn’t escape. Your hands gripped the wrists of the stranger before you heard an incessant shushing.

“Conejita, quiet.”

You relaxed instantly, the eyes of your mask downturned in fearful stress.

His hands were shaking against your head, figure hunched and body scratched up. The tears in his suit spanning across his right shoulder and chest. He slowly removed his hands, bringing a lone finger to where his lips would be in his mask in a ‘hush hush’ manner.

Coming in closer to you, leaning down to where your ear would be and whispering “He’s still here.”

You grabbed his forearms, leading him deeper into the site, away from the reddened lights and into the creeping shadows.

He breathed heavy behind you, throat wet with his own blood, he grunted and tried to help you in walking with him, good arm thrown over your shoulder as you dragged him. “C’mon, just a little farther.”

“What’re you…” He cut himself off, heaving. You set him down in the quiet corner, tucked behind two large concrete sheets and some large bent up pipes.

“Just—, sit here Miles, okay?” You brought his head up to yours, still talking in a quietened voice. Hands on his face and crouched in front of his slumping form.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

You stood from crouching, hands slipping off his face while he dragged forward to stay in your grasp — mumbling something like a plea for you to stay.

You turned from him, dashing away in silent movements, slinging yourself up onto high ground and turning back to make sure he wasn’t visible unless you truly looked — he wasn’t.

You lept off, disappearing from his sight with a yank against your webs.

He mumbled, shifting closer in your direction as the exhaustion hit him. Huffing, he leant back. Letting his head hit the wall and focus on keeping his eyes open.

"Quédate despierto.. No te muevas..."

“Stay awake.. Don’t move…”

He heaved again, the heaviness in his chest deepening.

“Stay…” He closed his eyes — for just a second, just for the relief — Dragging his hand up to rip the mask off of him, and forcing himself to open them again, to watch the Moon.

“Awake.”

—

You creep around corners, listening in and honing your senses to a point. For anything, a trip, a movement. A breath.

You whipped your head to the left, following the sound of light breathing.

“Come out little bunny.”

You tensed, he’d heard you.

“Ah, don’t worry, honey—,” You heard him creep forward, closer to you. He didn’t know where you were, obvious by the hesitance in his steps, but he had the right direction. You can move now, he would hear. And with how he’d heard Miles’ mere whisper before, you suggest maybe he had an ability similar to your own. “,Not him I want, anyways.”

That made your shoulders loosen a little, but you never rested. Who knows whether he was lying or not.

You shot a web, hitting the pipe of your aim and jumping from one to another, using your webs to steady yourself. You heard him huff a laugh.

“I heard that.”

Your eyes slanted, crouching into a spidered position. You crawled, using the stick of your fingers to steady across the pipe, sticking to it and trying to find the mystery man in the sea of red the warning lights casted.

Your spidey-senses went haywire and you jumped from the pipe in less than a second. Right as you did, a bang went off and you stumbled forward, landing in rubble and groaning. Rolling before you steadied yourself and jumped up. No rest until your opponent is resting in Death.

You finally saw him. What looked to be some guy in a green fuzzy suit.

“My girl..”

“Wha— *Are you a furry?”

He groaned, and charged for you, right hand outstretched and left in a clenched fist. He swung for your head, twisting his body as he did. You shot a web on his abdomen, pulling him towards you and jumping to slip under his arm, using his prior speed to throw him into a block of concrete, just missing a pole from stabbing him through the chest. He glanced at for a moment and grabbed his head — which had taken quite the hit.

“Seriously what type of Grinch cosplay is this?”

He growled again, like a man with rabies.

“C’mon dollface, don’t fight me here.”

“You hit first, asshole — Also what the fuck, i’m not your ‘doll’.” He shot for you again, throwing a bomb behind you to throw your body forward, you tried to grapple for stability, webbing to anything in reach. But he gripped your waist and held you against him.

“[Name]…”

You froze, body wanting to gag and shed your own skin at the same time.

You swung for his jaw, knocking him clean off you with a disgusted hand.

“Who the fuck are you!?”

He held his jaw and you stumbled farther from him. Hands held beside you, ready to attack if needed.

He grinned at you, blood seeping onto the green fur of his face, you felt sick.

“Oh, come on, babyface.” His jenky voice was digging into your skin, peeling it up and stabbing into your muscle. Twitching into your flesh and making your body hurt, making you hurt.

You ripped your mask up and hurled, spitting nothing but bile onto the ground below you, the burn of stomach acid sitting heavy in your throat and you felt like crying. Your breath heavy and gasps painful.

“What the fuck.”

—

You smiled at your professor. Waving back at him from the other side of the lecture hall. Miles come up behind you and hooked his arm around your shoulder, swaying against you as he chatted with you about anything that had happened in the time he hadn’t seen you. You snorted, chatting back — Forgetting completely about the other Miles.

You dropped your shoulder and your Miles stumbled, grumbling up at you before you gripped his forearm and dragged him to sit with you at the back of the hall. His mood changing in an instant as he followed along like a lost puppy, gawking at you with a dopey smile plastered across his face. His canines exposed, charming and boyish. How he always is. You sat him down, and sat next to you, and he dragged your chair a little closer, grabbing you leg and placing it over his.

He started laughing again at the eye roll you gave him, and you cracked — smiling and giggling with him.

What you hadn’t seen, was the glare settled on the two of you. The way Warrens previous smile had dropped into a snarling frown, hands gripping the pencil he had been holding in a death grip. He jumped at the sound of a crack, the pencil had snapped in his hands and he got even more pissed, about to scream at the *other Miles to get away from you. To get his hand off you.

That kid didn’t deserve you like he did.

You loved him like he loved you, he knew it.

You had too.

He watched you laugh and his heart fluttered, angry at who you were laughing for but still — you were so pretty.

You wouldn’t be laughing like that if he wasn’t here. You loved him.

—

“Mr. Warren?”

“How many times have I told you to call me Miles?” He slipped out of his own head, breaking from the stare he had on you.

You laughed sweetly, eyes shining. “How many times have I told you I already *have a Miles?”

He watched your smirk as you quipped back at him, a jealousy brimming in his chest. He chuckled, a heartless sound to no one but himself.

“Ahh, How many times am I going to forget?” He tapped his pencil on his desk and tried to focus on you instead. He watched you go back to your work, so intelligent, mature.

You shaded in the answer on the sleek sheet. You were right, of course.

A hair fell from behind your ears and he wanted to tuck it back, wanted to give you straight A’s for nothing despite knowing you would get them anyways.

You threaded you hand through your hair and if he wasn’t focused on how beautiful you were — maybe he’d be disappointed it wasn’t his own.

He watched you, forgetting the papers he was grading — he was focused on something else, now.

—

He was standing when you turned back. Hunching over his injuries and staggering towards you.

“Mr. Warren?”

“Yes, my dear.”

You gagged again, and he looked sad at the act.

“Please, baby—“ He stretched out his right hand, pleading with you.

“,—I know you love me too. I know that fucking Spider is taking you from me.”

He stepped closer.

“I know it.”

You stumbled back farther, wiping the spit from you lips and pulling your mask down, you went to shoot a web, to get away. But he was on you before you could, the hand not outstretched revealing a cloth covering his palm. Sodden and dripping a clear liquid.

He gripped your suit and dragged you forward, shoving the cloth closer to your face.

“Stop fucking resisting.”

“Get off!”

You gripped his forearm and bent it back, far enough you heard a snap. He yelped out. The sweet smelling cloth dropped from his hand and his other lost grip on your shirt. Taking the opportunity you dropped down, crouching on one leg and using the other to swipe the things legs from under him.

You watched him fall and grabbed the cloth. Hearing his pained groans as he tried to scramble up again.

You kicked a leg over him, straddling his chest and bringing your free hand back — swinging down on him with anguished cries.

He tried to raise his hands, you pinned them down in his own chloroform ridden cloth. He called your name, endearments that made you skin crawl. Tried kicking you off as his body grew weaker. Pleading with you, using his remaining strength to yank at his own arms.

He wrestled against your hits, face bloodied and nose broken. You hit again, watching his disgusting face whip to the side, blood leaking from his mouth as a tooth went flying.

Tears breached the edge of your eyes, frustration of every kind tearing your skin anew, your knuckles pouring the hurt you felt. Blood mixing in a sickening spill of feelings, an obsessive love — something cruel and harsh. And the injuries you’d sustained from it, equally as such cruel.

You’d spent *months trying for a man in love with someone else. And this man you had confided in, who had been a mentor in your trivialities — had taken advantage of that, of you.

He disgusted you.

You kept swinging.

—

Miles jerked awake, gripping the hands that were on his shoulders in an instant, the figure flinching back at his strength.

“Miles! Just me—,” He opened his eyes further, pain ringing through his body as he loosened in your hold.

“Just you.”

He took your appearance in, the blood coating your suit, that hadn’t seemed to be your own. The thick liquid shining on your hands and forearms, crudely splashed onto your mask — like something out of a horror film.

He reached up slowly, pulling off you mask with great effort. His own sitting next to him. You were on your knees before him, bathing in red so deep it could have been mistaken for black against the reddened light. He groaned when you touched his chest, coughing a little at the pain.

“Sorry! Sorry — I’m so sorry.” You quickly retracted your hand and gasped. Apologising through near tears. He wet his lips, watching your tear lined eyes in worry.

“Hey— Conejita, what— what happened?”

Letting his hands rest on your cheeks, carbon fibre wiping at soft skin.

You sobbed, gripping his wrists and moving his weak hands closer to you. His brows furrowed further.

“I don’t — I don’t know, he —,”

You breathed fast against his palms, crying to him. Miles straightened himself up, ignoring the pains shooting up his body and trying to comfort you, shushing your cries and cradling your face.

“Mr. Warren he was —“

Miles’ eyes widened, finally letting the familiarity in his voice click. That was who it was, who was so mad at him, disgusted by the Spider.

Miles shuddered, thinking back to the off feeling he’d always had around the older man.

How he was always around you.

“What did he do.”

His eyes darkened and you cried harder, Miles had completely forgotten about his wounds, shifting to get up and find the fucking bastard.

You gripped him tighter, “Miles. He’s not —,”

“Where is he.”

“Dead.”

His breath escaped him, the blood made sense now. He got closer to you and slid his hand around your head, pushing your face into his good shoulder.

You cried again, shaking form cradled against his own weakened body.

“Shh, Mami. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“We’re alright, I promise.”

He hugged you closer, pressing a haste kiss to your forehead.

“You’re safe.”

—

You helped him home, having to hold him up and swing at the same time, which wasn’t much as a hassle as you thought it would be.

You both sat on your couch, him lying down with you sitting on his thighs.

He watched you work, suit and mask discarded somewhere in your living room and clad only in a pair of loose joggers you had found for him.

Your face was pinched into a frown, eyes still puffed from crying and a brows scrunched unpleasantly.

“Stop moving.”

“I’m not.” He threw his head back, rolling his eyes at your complaining.

“See? Moving.” You poked his chest and he winced.

“Okay! Okay— Damn, chica.”

You smiled at his tone, a small, timid thing. And he pushed down the fluttering in his stomach.

“You’re lucky you don’t need stitches.”

“Lucky? Havin’ you here longer would make me lucky.”

You grumbled, pouting at him angrily. “You want stitches, big boy?”

“You gonna stay on top of me?”

“No, but i’ll make it hurt real nice.”

He snorted, shifting to look at you better.

“Then, nah.”

You kept at your work, patting him with antiseptics and making him hold an ice pack across the forming bruises.

And he admired you, the streaks of light from the window falling against your face. A city ridden with crime making you so, so pretty.

“Why’d you come for me?”

You gave him a curious look but continued to patch him up. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?”

He sniffled, averting his gaze. “I dunno I just— didn’t expect you to show up.”

You shook your head a little, understanding his fears.

“I’d always show for you, Miles.”

He hummed, flustered at the thought.

You moved up to his face, gently patting away blood with a warm hand towel, your other hand holding his face towards you. Fingertips brushing his cheeks in a hold so caring he might’ve fainted if it wasn’t you holding him. He’d stay awake for you this time. He’d protect you this time.

“I love you.”

You froze, towel stuck in the air and your eyes locked onto his.

Miles held his breath, waiting for your reply as he watched you clock the words.

His nerves got to him quick, spouting out whatever he could in your silence.

"Estaba hablando con Gwen y me ayudó a darme cuenta, ¿sabes? No paraba de decir que estaba enfermo de amor, yo no lo entendía y pensé que quizás debería..."

“I was just talking with Gwen and she helped me realise, you know? Kept saying I was lovesick and I didnt get it and I just thought maybe I should—“

“I love you too.”

He snapped his gaze back to you. Hope colouring his eyes a sparkling gold.

“You do?” He whispered, an intimacy running through his bloodstream. Heart pumping too fast in haste of the pure admiration he held for you.

You nodded, and your hands splayed out further, cradling the edge of his lips.

“I do.”

He tried to sit up, abs clenching under effort to get closer to you, you let him drag you forward. He ditched the ice pack and settled his hands on the crest of your thighs, rubbing his thumb over your hips.

“Say it again?”

He whined, begging you. He wanted, needed to hear you say it again.

“I love you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, forehead pressing against your own. You followed.

The things he felt for you were too much, too much. His chest was heaving again, but not from pain. This was love he hadn’t experienced before, this was anything but painful.

"Dios, también te amo."

“God, I love you too.”

Your hands slipped from his lips to the back of his neck, scratching gently along his nape and he shivered.

“Let me kiss you? Please?”

He whispered again, voice cracking. Chapped lips brushing against your own softer ones in a featherlight touch. He was holding off, not letting himself the pleasure without you wanting him back — he wanted to know you wanted him back.

“Please.” You were sure, certain — and it was all he needed.

He kissed you sweetly, letting himself indulge in you without restraint.

He hadn’t known what he’d been missing out on — but now he does. Know he knows. And god, if he hadn’t felt more full in his entire life.

Everything had been bland compared to you, had been bitter and dull against the sweetness of your lips. Smooth against rough skin and he’d never felt something so soft before. His hands gripped you harder for just a moment and you pulled back merely an inch to catch your breath. He opened his eyes and watched your lips sparkle in the same light he’d admired minutes before.

“I love you too.”

You smiled at him and he pulled you ever closer. “I know, Miles.”

—

“I fuckin’ told ya’, mate.”

“Wh— I never said otherwise!”

“Yeah but ya’ neva’ agreed either, aye?”

“I never disagreed.”

“Pff, whateva.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, scoffing at the brit next to her with a smile on her face.

They watched you both as Miles nervously introduced you to Peter. A sort of Spider-convention was set up. And the invite was — begrudgingly — extended to you.

“They’re cute, though.”

“Bloody oath.”

You offered the older man with a warmed gaze, turning to the kid in his arms and cooing. He smiled at you, being one of your favourite spiders had its perks.

He was one of the only ones who never tried to make you join the society, so he got a pass from you.

Miles held your hand and smiled, chatting with Peter excitedly once he realised the lack of tension.

“Do you want to hold her?”

“Do I—,” You looked up at him hopefully. “Yes! Uh— Yeah. Yes please.”

You dropped Miles’ hand and he pouted, watching you take the baby from Peters arms, the early father fretting as you waved him off, insuring him you knew how to care for a child.

Peter relaxed and stood next to Miles as you rocked his baby gently. A rather fond feeling overtaking them both — leading Peter to take a photo of you with his kid, and Miles to shyly ask him to send it to him.

The look of you with a kid? It was way too early in life for baby fever.

He huffed when he heard people making kissy noises behind him. You too preoccupied with entertaining the kid to realise it.

He turned to the trio of teens behind him and flipped them off. Pavitr gasped offendedly at him and Hobie and Gwen laughed, causing Miles to roll his eyes and snort.

“Assholes.”

You gently passed MayDay back to Peter and gave a quick kiss to her head. Peter going off to get her a bottle.

Miles came up next to you and you smiled at him, watching the skyline from the buildings rooftop.

“[Name].”

You huffed and rolled your eyes at the voice behind you.

Way to ruin a moment.

“Miguel.”

You turned to him, Miles cringing quickly as he turned with you.

“Hey— Miguel! Crazy seein’ you here, haha! Insane.” Miles nervously laughed, his voice deepening on the last word and you coughed a laugh, agreeing with him.

“Uhuh, crazy.” A sly smile adorned your features and you grabbed his hand again, interlocking your fingers in a foxy movement.

“You weren’t invited.”

“Huh? Of course I wasn’t!—“ Your smirk grew bigger. “—I’m a plus one.”

He glared down at you and it only felt all the more justifiable, he opened his mouth to talk before Peter was dancing over with MayDay held out.

“Here take this, thanks!”

He quickly handed her off to Miguel and spun him around by his shoulders, continuing to walk with him in the other direction. “She needs a sleep. Rock her to sleep.”

“Wh—“

“Rock her.”

—

Miles gripped your hips, swaying gently with you to the soft music playing in your kitchen. Your Ma had left two weeks prior for a month long work trip, and he couldn’t stay away. The domesticity he had built with you reaching an all time high as he watched you cook.

He rested his head on your shoulder and you both continued to sway a little. Moving his hands past your hips to lean his hands on the bench you cut your food on, caging you in slightly. You hummed, reaching for a tomato and placing it on the board.

“I love you.”

You giggled — a sweet, girlish thing.

“Love you too, baby.”

“Love you more.” He smiled against your shoulder.

“Pfft, yeah okay, big boy.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, and his heart fluttered again.

—

GOD DAMN AS ALWAYS WAY OFF THE RAILS

lovely translator @sataraxia

(literally my bf the delusions are getting worse he’s my bf guys!!! ⬇️)

#across the spiderverse #miles morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #spiderverse x reader #miles x reader #miles my beloved #miles morales x you #atsv miles #miles 1610 #miles x y/n #miles x you #miles morales x y/n

[sereisstuff]

𝐀𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

Synopsis - y/n despised her best friends brother, always there, never far. She hated him rotten but was that truly how they both felt, in terms of love, Ao’nung would never fall into that category. That’s what she believed.

Warnings - enemies to lovers? (I actually don’t know if I even did it right)

Aged!up Ao’nung I always had the vision of his tāmoko on his shoulder and forearm for this

Word count: 3.3K

Quick note: I wrote this within a span of four hours so it’s completely just a dump of words mushed into a story, it’s very rushed and has not been proofread I hope you enjoy.

I forgot to add everyone in the taglist fml.

The way of the metkayina people was a way of life for you, your adolescence was spent beside your dearest friend, Tsireya. Fulfilling each other’s day with happiness and bountiful fruits of love, not a day went by where you weren’t beside her, weren’t lingering.

This connection between you two also meant you were awfully close with her family, as well as her brother; Aonung.

He wasn’t the nicest boy in the village, but he did not lack respect when it was due. Being the son of the olo’eyktan brought him a sense of pride and grace unmatched by the other youthful men surrounding you. He was a captivating soul, on top of being the most awful person to ever lay foot on this island.

Despite sharing a sense of familial love between Tsireya’s and your own family, you could not say eye to eye with Aonung, his need for disturbance and rebellion was often matched by your quick tongued and ruthless attitude. If life was to throw you fruits, claiming you must feed them to him in order for Aonung to survive. You’d eat them and watch his body decay. He’d say the same.

Although your younger self would plant even more seeds in order for him to survive, you quickly freed yourself from the torment of adoring Aonung. As children you weren’t always angered by the sight of him, he was sweet, kind even. His desire for trouble was still prominent but he’d never aimed his torturous words your way.

But that was just it, you two drifted apart. As each day passed, both you and aonung faded further and further from each other. His protection dropped and his tongue; venomous. You hadn’t known the reason why, his sweet words turned into poisonous remarks. His once hopeful eyes gleamed with hatred and you could only assume he’d let his pride take over.

He was an asshole and you despised him for it.

You laid amongst the sand dunes in a daze, watching the cerulean sky as if it was the most entertaining thing to coexist in your life. Tsireya and the others were attending their lessons for the day, leaving you behind to prioritise grounding yourself.

“What are you doing?” That familiar voice questioned, you rolled your eyes from beneath the curtains of your eyelids. The sound of his voice irked you, claiming the most treacherous and violent parts that made you.

“What does it look like” bored, your tone showed nothing but disinterest, Aonung flicked his head back feeling the tension in his chest grow due to your lack of acknowledgement.

You huffed when he did not reply, opening the frames of your eyes and there he stood. Peering down at you intensely, his head tilted with what you could assume as curiosity, or laughter. The latter made more sense.

“What do you want, Aonung” you asked, this time your voice showing complete annoyance, his persistence to be by you and near you in order to truly show you how much he despised you did not go unnoticed. He was a nuisance and he knew his presence rattled you to your core.

“My answer will bring too much enjoyment to you?” He responded, his signature smirk crawling its way upon his lips.

“as if anything you say piques my interest. You keep your presence there and I keep mine here” you watched as his eyes flicked between the sand and your body, slowly relishing his orbs on your physique before he glanced back into your eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, someone might think we’re friends” you couldn’t bear the thought of being around Aonung. His mere presence was overbearing, it tore your mind and soul to shreds looking at his smug smile, to think the boy before you once had a soul as pure as the gifts of Eywa.

But that wasn’t the only reason, deep down beneath the hurt and frustration lied the truth. If your heart was an instrument, Ao’nung was the musician. The creator of your canvas; an artist in your eyes crafted by flaws yet imperfectly moulded into something so much more alluring.

But you hated him, the way he cocked his head with a devilish grin, you hated how his teal blue eyes hung low, the same eyes that never failed to pierce straight through your soul. You hated the way he spoke, the way his gaze always seemed to be on you, you hated how rude and irritating he was, you hated every fibre of his being.

“You say that but your eyes speak otherwise” Ao’nung taunted you, that was his favourite past time. No matter what, no matter how many arguments, how many altercations. He still managed to coax his wicked intentions with the sweetness of his tongue.

He now stood in front of you, if you were to poke your finger out it would land against his chest. You felt riled up now. His breathing fanned against your cheeks, if anyone saw the proximity between the both of you, you’d never hear the end of it. He was close, too close for your liking.

“I hate you so much” you grunted, picking up the shells you collected earlier, his strong gaze never leaving your body and that stupid smirk only widened with the laugh he released, throaty and mocking.

“the feeling is mutual,” Ao’nung lied, knowing that honesty wasn’t always his best trait. The boy followed you, licking his lips as he trailed behind you. It was odd, just a year ago he had wanted nothing but to be clear of your presence, hissing and scowling every time you were in the same vicinity. Now, he’ll stop at nothing to make his presence known.

You continued, walking anywhere that didn’t provide sanctuary for him.

Your fast pace and constant peeking over your shoulder had made you lose focus on the path ahead of you, your head was the first thing that had been wounded with an ache, then your body was pressed up against a solid chest and as you caught your breath, you looked up.

“Thank Eywa it’s you, Neteyam. I thought I joined the ancestors for a second” The eldest of the sully children let out a throaty laugh, helping you adjust your balance again. For someone with keen eyes he sure didn’t notice the glare being shot his way.

“Skxawng,” He grumbled, shaking his head. He placed a loving hand on your head and you reciprocated that tender platonic love with a smile. At this point Ao’nung tuned out the conversation, he abhorred Neteyams presence more than anything.

Rotxo was not too far behind Neteyam, finishing their lessons early. So he shot you one last final glance and then headed off, his head shaking in annoyance. He’d already been told off once for fighting with the sully brothers, he couldn’t risk it again.

“What was that?” Neteyam questioned, watching Aonung walk away without uttering a word. You could only shrug in response, you couldn’t understand it either.

“I, I have no answer for you.” You sighed in defeat, Neteyam was under the illusion that the Olo’eyktan’s son saw you as food at the bottom of the chain. From what he knew, both you and himself shared a common enemy. This enemy declared themselves as so against your will, so he stood stunned. Not a single snarky remark, nor glare, just silence.

Silence amongst chaos was never good.

“Is he bothering you,” Neteyam questioned, eyes wide in anticipation but you could only shrug. Withdrawing from answering, you wrapped an arm around neteyams limb. He was like a brother to you now, by eywa’s grace him and lo’ak protected you like their own.

“Forget it, let’s go diving” and so you did, trudging past the prying eyes following your every move. You stood on the reef ready to jump only then realising that neteyam hadn’t pranced at the sight of the water. You pulled back your body, jumping onto his back and diving you both beneath the tide.

“Are you alright” Rotxo sweet voice asked, Ao’nung sat on one of the canoes beside the young metkayina, his best friend. Jaw clenched in anger, Rotxo slightly shivered feeling an impending doom if he pushed further, “Ao’nung” he bumped his shoulder earning a foul hiss.

“What” he snapped, moving his territorial gaze from the pinnacle of his eye to his brother in arms “What is wrong? you're quiet. You’re never quiet” he admitted, slightly frowning.

“Just thinking about multiple ways someone could get lost at sea, for the safety of our lessons” he lied once more, it was almost like one truth and one lie but Rotxo was convinced otherwise. He wasn’t dumb and knew his best friend like the back of his hand, hearing the words escape his mouth could only make the young boy cock his brow.

He hated you, so so much. The way your hair fell against your back, he hated your smile and pearly whites. He hated your nurturing nature, he hated how you gifted your love to everyone but him. He hated when you walked with a sway in your hips, he hated how your lips moved with malice when he was the one receiving. He hated that you cared so much for everyone, so deeply for the environment and your surroundings, he hated how you got lost in a trance if something was too beautiful, he hated how stubborn you were. He hated everything.

But there’s a thin line between hate and love.

The eclipse set in and you made your way back onto the sand, both you and neteyam crossed paths as you laughed happily pushing each other with a hint of playfulness.

“Rest well skxawng” you greeted him goodbye, flipping him off as you walked back to your families marui pod, Tsireya. Your sister, your closest and dearest friend smiled upon your entrance. Tonight your families shared a pod, every fourth eclipse both yours and the olo’eyktans family shared a feast. This was due to your own mother being close companions with the tsahik.

You didn’t miss the strong and heavy gaze coming from Ao’nung. You searched around the tent, seeking for a space that wasn’t beside him, but your mother only bowed her head and pointed towards the empty space right next to him. In hopes of not disrupting their important conversation, you steadily sat in the gap between him and tsireya, you felt a sense of comfort having Tsireya on the other side of you.

“Daughter, you’ve joined us, where have you been?” Your father tsayrem smiled “with Neteyam, Father. I was showing him the spirit tree” Tsireya passed you a bowl full of food, you look her way thanking her with your eyes, scrunching them in delight.

Ao’nung scoffed under his breath, and you twitched in annoyance “I’m glad you're making new friends, daughter” your mother finished, carrying on the conversation between her and Ronal.

“Since when have you two been so close?” The question arose from the deepest parts of Ao’nung’s curiosity, fueled by his resentment. His nostrils flared as he stared up at you, his head still bowed but his eyes never once left your own.

You averted your gaze, picking at your food “it is nothing you should be worried about '' you spat in hushed whispers, Ao’nung gripped the meat in his hands tightly, knuckles turning white.

“Well, I am. And you have no say in the matter,” he pushed his plate back, for a split second you could see the facade crack in his eyes and showed a hint of something you couldn’t quite make out, your heart began to race and your hands grew clammy.

“Are you two mated? Is that it.” He continued pushing in a hushed tone but the guttural growl vibrated in his chest, avoiding your gaze, his focus trained on the fire in the middle of the room. Darkness arose within the gleams of his oceanic orbs. A shadow casted over his features.

Your stomach arose in twists but you ignored it, he had no right questioning you about your life choices. Not now, not ever.

“Brother, stop harassing her. She’s done nothing to you. You are being rude” Tsireya defended you, although she didn’t quite hear the banter between you two she still had a gut feeling that if she did not speak up, things would go terribly wrong.

“I can’t stomach this” he confessed, His strong hands rested on his sides before he lifted himself from the ground, his biceps grew and withdrew catching your attention with a gulp.

You were sick of this, dropping your plate and following him out of the marui pod “Mother, may I excuse myself to go check on Ao’nung?”you asked earning a nod from your mother, Ronal and tonowari shared a surprised look mirroring that of tsireyas.

“Are you sure, sister?” Tsireya pried, caring for you. You nodded in response and headed out without further question.

Your heartbeat against your chest, nervousness spread through your system and your insides twisted and curled. You wanted to hurl out the food you had just inhaled.

But you couldn’t back out now, you needed answers. His behaviour was erratic, he hated you for years and suddenly he toys with your feelings as if they're nothing. If he wanted to play games, you were not joining. The past you would have endured it but you were no longer that person.

His braid swayed with his heavy strides, you grabbed at his arm pulling him back, he hissed pulling his hand away as if it burned him and you felt a crack in your heart.

No, no fuck that. This wasn’t you, you never cared what he thought, he never cared how you thought so why did you even bother.

“What is with the attitude” you confronted him, he towered over your frame. Strong shoulders and puffed chest “nothing is wrong, do not stand there as if you care” he spat, you had never seen so much rage in a person's eyes before.

“What are you talking about Ao’nung. We both have never cared about each other all because of you, what’s changed? Hmm? What? I need answers because as of recently that’s clearly shifted if your becoming fragile to my words as if yours do not sting ten times worse” you snarled, lifted your hands into the air, he stepped forward bending down slightly to match your height.

“Lower your tone and remember who you're speaking to” his voice was sinister, eyes cradling nothing but flames and you rolled your own “I’m speaking to a child who cannot control their emotions, you’ve been on my case since the sullys have arrived. And now this, if you spoke any louder you could have embarrassed both of us in there”

Ao’nung couldn’t help but feel the pull, his eyes itched to peek down at your curves. Staring into your eyes with pure rage but behind those flames was a child who loved the woman he was speaking to, a small and hopeless teenager seeking the anomaly that was you.

He was never going to be good enough to stand by your side, pushing you away was the only answer but now as he watches another man take his place he refuses to acknowledge it. He no longer wanted to push himself away, he wanted you and he’d make sure everyone around him knew sooner rather than later.

He wasn’t the best at showing it.

“You are one insult away from making me do something I regret” Ao’nung confessed, you were perplexed but more angered than ever. How dare he, the audacity to make this about himself.

“I could kill you right no-“ before you could finish your sentence Ao’nung captured your raised hand. Gripping it softly before harshly but swiftly pressing your back against the mangrove tree behind you, chest to chest but even closer than before. Ao’nung prayed to eywa this would shut you up. He captured your lips with his own, his eyebrows scrunched with contemplation and you fell victim to the boy you claimed to have nothing but hatred for.

Your hands were raised above your head and you reciprocated the kiss, pushing into him more and more, at first it was soft but he grew eager. He felt the swell in his chest burst, claiming every ounce of self respect he once had. Passion marked its territory.

His hand laid flat against your back, bringing you even closer to him, skin to skin and one you became.

You pulled away first but his lips followed your own like a tug, you were magnetic.

“I cannot believe you, stupid. You're so stupid” you punched against his chest, but he did not waver. Not once.

“I see you, I’ve seen you ever since we were children y/n. From the first time we rode Ilu together, to now. You’ve been who I’ve wanted for years but I did not think I was deserving, then I seen you with Neteyam and my heart could not bare it” Ao’nung leaned his forehead against your own, your back still arching against his chest, your breath hitched and you couldn’t bring yourself to remember how to even do something so simple.

“I could have stopped this, I could have told you sooner but I did not want to let the thought of us being something more grow. I was so wrong”

“Ao’nung, you stupid. Idiotic boy. How dare you do this to me and tell me you’ve liked me back all this time, you are so selfish” now it was his turn to widen his eyes in surprise, he looked at you in bewilderment.

“Back? You like me too?” He questioned, leaning back in confusion. You breathed loudly in disappointment, the silence was deafening within a few clicks of tension, you slowly began nodding your head. His smirk returned, the pull against his lips only did so much as torment you for your confession. He tilted his head to the side, eyes low and smouldering.

“Of course I do moron, like isn't enough to describe how I feel about you” Ao’nung groaned in response, teasing you with delight. A different sort of light had casted on him and you felt your body turn hot, not being able to tell if your stomach curled in regret or glee.

“I thought if I confessed, the insults would lighten”

“It’s hard to remember we aren’t fighting anymore, it takes a bit to adjust to” you scratched the back of your neck lightly, all of this confessing was new to you.

Ao’nung placed a tender kiss against your forehead, leaning down to your ear with a smile. Whispering with a husky voice, low so only you could hear and as his breath brushed against your ear, sending a tingling sensation through your body.

“I have something in mind that’ll help”

………….

Guys I’m a minor too just to clear the air, I didn’t actually read any of this properly and I’ll add the continue reading bar in the morning because it’s currently 2.24am in the morning and I can’t be bothered grabbing my laptop. Lemme know if this makes sense.

Sweet dreams x

#ao’nung #Aonung x reader #Aonung imagine #Neteyam #tsireya #atwow imagines #avatar : the way of water

[melrodrigo]

Daydreaming - T.C.

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary/Sneak peek: It's one of those days again, you and Tara are passed out on her bed; sun beaming through her curtains.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, fluffy fluffy stuff

Word Count: 950

A/N: Have this drabble before this next chapter…y’all need it. This is also partly inspired by ‘Daydreaming’ from Mr.Styles himself.

It's one of those days again, you and Tara are passed out on her bed; sun beaming through her curtains.

The rays frame her face so nicely, complimenting her freckles and making them pop. She doesn't like her freckles, but you absolutely adore them.

It's that type of day where you don't care about how pathetic or lovesick you sound, because she's here with you, in your arms; where she should be.

Nights with Tara were usually very hectic, she was always so pressed and fast and wanting; it's hard to savor the moment. It's also why you treasure the mornings after so much more.

You slip out of her embrace, as softly as you can. She stirs a little bit and you're quick to press a kiss to her forehead and whisper that you'll be right back.

She grumbles a little but loosens her grip on you.

You make your way to the kitchen, humming while slipping on a t-shirt.

Nobody's in the apartment today except for Sam, and you cringe internally at how awkward it's going to be with her today. Sam's starting to warm up to you, you can feel it. It's subtle, but after spending so much time with her sister you're sure you know the signs. They really were similar in many ways.

That didn't change the fact she probably hated you for nailing her sister though.

You let out a little sigh of relief when you see Sam isn't in the kitchen, and get back to your original plan.

Now, you weren't the best cook; but you did decently. It's not Tara's level of cooking, but you could always manage a killer American breakfast.

No wonder they're all overweight, you wonder as you stare at the back of the pancake mix box.

You contemplate making her an actual healthy breakfast like you normally do, but give in to the pancake mix. It was Tara's favorite anyway.

You turn on the speaker, but keep it low enough as to not wake Tara and play a TV Girl song.

Music's always been a sort of coping mechanism of yours. It's nice to just play a song and get lost in the melody, forget your problems and whatever's wrong in the world.

Tara's often made fun of you for it, for always carrying around an extra pair of earphones with you wherever you went.

You sway to the beat now, watching over the pancakes intently; determined to get that perfect brown color.

"Who's gonna kiss the brown hair girls? Who's gonna wipe away their tears?" You sing, grabbing the spatula and bringing it to your mouth.

“Well, I hope it's you, or that's going to be disappointing."

You don't have to turn around to know who it is, you would've recognized her voice from miles away. Soft hands touch your waist, sliding in behind you and peering at you.

You smile, boop her nose with your finger.

"Go back to sleep, I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed." You tut, trying to shoo her away and back into her room.

She shakes her head against you, "Nuh uh, all you do is surprise me with breakfast in bed. I should be the one cooking for you today. Plus, I don't sleep very well without you anyway."

She says it casually, but it still makes your heart melt.

You and Tara weren't one for words of affirmation, in fact; you both loved to shit on each other. That was your love language.

But the fact that she's willing to admit something like that to you with no second doubt fills your heart with pride. Maybe you are turning her a little soft.

"Okay, come on, come help me decorate these plain ass pancakes." You say, motioning for her to stand beside you at the counter.

She happily obliges, skip in her steps.

You'd arranged some toppings already; powdered sugar, bananas, fresh strawberries.

She immediately reaches for a strawberry, popping it into her mouth before you can scold her. You stare at her pointedly, but all she does is smile cheekily.

“At least cut up the rest of the fruits, I'm almost done with these pancakes." You grumble, turning your attention back to the smiley pancake in front of you.

She nods adamantly, grabbing the cutting board and heeding your instructions. Nobody says a word, and the sound of the music behind you makes you feel like you're in the end credits of a rom-com.

You flip the last pancake right as Tara finishes slicing the strawberries and bananas. You grab three plates, one for Tara, one for you, and one for Sam.

You let Tara decorate her pancake as she pleases, taking a portion of the pancakes and putting them on Sam's plate.

When you turn back to Tara, you're met with the sight of her with her hands up slightly in shock, icing powder falling from her like snow.

You can't help but snort at the look on her face; which was also covered in white icing.

The bag of it's in her hand, looking like it exploded from the seams.

The sound of your laughter breaks Tara from her shock, and she giggles a bit too.

"I look like a snowman!" She exclaims, brushing the substance off her shirt quickly.

"Snowman's are taller than you are." You quip, smirking.

She opens her mouth to reply, no doubt with an annoying jab back at you; but is cut off by lips on hers.

You kiss her tenderly, squeeze her hips slightly.

You pull back, pursing your lips as you bring your pointer finger up; fake thinking.

"Hm....sweet."

#tardy drabble #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega

[pedrisbanana]

could you write something where the reader moved in and her house is next to pedri’s one her window is also next to pedri’s one so every time she gets changed she does it in front of the window to tease her next neighbor

Warning: It's not really dark, but it leans towards it a little bit

The thin line between imagination and reality...

Enjoy 🍌

Ghosting Touch

The first time it happened, you didn't really pay attention. Maybe you were delusional, because why should someone watch you ? 

The second time it happened, you stared for a little longer through the window on the other side, but you couldn't really see anything... or rather anyone. So you continued you moisture and got dressed as usual. 

The third time, a pair of eyes flickered back, being gone as soon as he spotted you. You held the towel to your chest, counting the seconds before moving on as well.

From that moment something challenged you. Maybe it was the way his eyes raked over your freshly showered, naked body or it was the way he acted like nothing happened whenever you greeted each other at the doorstep. 

He was interesting... 

You didn't really know much about your next door neighbor. He must be around your age. His name was Pedro and he lived together with his brother. Pedro drove a green Mini Cooper and a black Supra Formentor. 

When you introduced yourself, he was friendly and his voice calm. He was attractive and had an athletic build, but he wasn't tall. You barely needed to tilt your chin to look at him. Pedro often had a friend over. He called him Gavi. 

He must be rich, you figured. 

This neighborhood wasn't cheap, your own apartment being paid by the scholarship you got for your studies. You didn't know what he worked, being home most of the time. Maybe he's an heir and doesn't need to work. 

What you knew was, that it became some sort of ritual. Him peeking behind his window when you moisturized and dressed after showering or when you got dressed in the mornings. 

He never stared at you like some creep, he seemed rather admiring, like he was looking at a painting or a sculpture. 

Pedro's stare wasn't making you uncomfortable either. You enjoyed giving him a show, which made you sometimes feel like a creep. 

It was never too sexual tho. Just a quick pinch to your hardened nipple. Your hands lingering a little too long on your chest. Thumbs skimming just above the spot between your thighs. A little bite into your lower lip. 

 And it's not like you masturbated or something. You couldn't see if he did. Hopefully not, right ? 

Sometimes, at night, you imagined him. On top of you. Lips exploring your skin, worshipping you the way his eyes did. His hands spreading the moisturizer. 

You felt ashamed when you silently screamed his name into your pillow in ecstasy.

-

Today felt different. 

When you stepped into your bedroom, you shivered. Closing the window to the small balcony, you observed the other side. The architecture of the two houses was symmetrical. You couldn't see him. You swore that you had closed the window prior to your shower.

Usually he stood next to the tall window, body barely hidden by darkness and the thick fabric of his curtains. 

Today, sunlight gleamed into the room. The corner of the bed told you he also used it as a bedroom. Maybe his own ? 

Backing away, you went over to your drawer. It was already noon, so you decided on a light blue tank top with lace detail and some sweatpants. 

Reaching for the lowest drawer, you paused. It wasn't fully shut. You were sure you didn't leave it open. 

Inside, every pair of panties was as neatly folded as usual, so you pushed the weird feeling away that nudged at your brain. The choice was easy, light blue cotton with a small bow. Matching. 

You put the clothes atop of your neatly folded duvet where you had already thrown the bottle of moisturizer before showering. Taking another peek through the window, disappointment made your lips into a frown. 

He wasn't there. It made you unsure. He was always there, why not today ?

Shaking your head at your silliness, you loosened the knot of your towel and let it fall to the floor to pool at your feet.

But it never pooled at your feet. The familiar deep voice startled you. 

"Missing me, hermosa ?" his warm hand clamped over your mouth, but you didn't scream. 

You couldn't. His presence made you freeze. 

Noticing this, he dropped his hand and leaned towards the bed. His clothed front pressed against your naked body, making you shudder. 

Your gaze dropped to his hands, now encircling you, watching him put some of the moisturizer in his hand. A black ring decorated his left ring finger. You had never noticed him wearing a ring.

His lips found your neck, softly pecking and nibbling the skin. The feeling was unbelievable.

"Close your eyes." 

You did. The only sound being heard now was his hands rubbing the moisturizer between them. 

When his hands first touched your skin, you flinched from the cold. He started with your stomach, carefully spreading the liquid. It surprised you that his hands didn't stay at your private parts, but rather move up to your navel again, after making sure everything was decently moisturized down there. 

Whispering sweet nothings into your neck, he focused on your chest. He mapped out every detail. The pads of his fingertips played with adding and releasing pressure. 

You were breathless. 

"Pedro..." you whimpered as he found your nipples. They were hard pearls and he rubbed them between his fingers.

"Shhh" his voice soothed you, luring you even more into his spell. He licked his lips, you felt his wet tongue under your ear. 

You felt him reach forward again, probably to get some more of the lotion. Pedro stepped away so he could focus on your back. A feeling of emptiness spread through your body at the loss of his warmth against you.

His hands were rougher now, kneading the sore muscles. He seemed to find every tension and knot. You wondered how he knew exactly where to massage you. 

He reached down again, this time giving your shoulder a little kiss. Being softer while putting the cream on your arms, he took each one to his full attention, Kissing your hand softly before letting go. 

The whole situation had your senses heightened. His touch erecting every nerve ending in your body. It had moisture collecting between your thighs and you hoped he wouldn't stop anytime soon.

Putting one hand one your hip he leaned his chin on your shoulder, hints of stubble scratching your spoiled skin. 

Your lips parted slightly as he started to speak again.

"That's a pretty color. Also, I have a thing for lace. You know me so well, amor" 

You felt like he was looking directly at your face, but you didn't dare to open your eyes. He guided your hands through the straps of the tank top you had laid out before. 

It made you clench your thighs. There was something unbearably erotic of him dressing you, instead of undressing you. Like you were a doll. His doll.

Making sure to keep your eyes shut, you helped him put the cotton over your head. Luckily you didn't wash your hair in the shower. The way he took your hair out from under the top made your spine tingly. 

His hands brushed your nipples again when pulling down the hem. Purposely, you figured. 

He held your hand. 

"Lay on the bed." his voice was calm and steady. Did this leave him completely unbothered ?

Relaxing on the duvet, he pushed you to the edge of the bed. He kneeled in between your legs now. You hoped he didn't see how turned on you were by him. 

He set your foot on his shoulder, spreading the lotion up to your groin. Goosebumps erupted on your skin and you had the urge to touch yourself. 

Feeling the need to give your body the pleasure it was begging you for, your clit was begging you for. His plush lips ghosted over your ankle and the barely there sensation almost had you moaning his name. 

Taking a deep breath, you concentrated. He worked his way down the other leg, giving no less attention. When he kissed your ankle this time, you pushed your hips up. 

He chuckled, which made you even wetter. Still holding onto your ankle, he pushed forward so that your thigh was now resting on his shoulder. The material of his shirt felt soft against your leg. 

You waited for the feeling of his mouth, but he didn't move forward. Instead, he reached up and guided your hand towards your centre. His fingers over yours, you felt how your excitement coated you both. 

You moaned as he lead your fingertips over your clit in circular motions. Back arching, you decided not to hold back anymore. For what ? 

It wouldn't take you long to explode, so you kept the attention on your bundle of nerves, but Pedro pushed your hand down to your slit. 

He pushed two of your fingers inside, making you clench around yourself. The heel of your hand grazed your clit ever so often, a familiar feeling building in your lower stomach. 

Suddenly, you felt him push two fingers of his inside, underneath yours. He pushed them in every time you pushed out. Your body was on fire.

His name on your lips, you pushed your hips to meet the thrusts of his and your fingers inside of you. Your other hand sneaked underneath your top to play with your breasts. 

Your pace became quicker and you thrust your hips into emptiness, until a wave of pleasure came over you. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you rode out your orgasm, enjoying every second of it. 

Your whole body was shaking and your toes curled at the image of Pedro watching this exact moment. 

You couldn't keep your eyes shut any longer. You had to look at him, even if you were scared of the aftermath. 

When you calmed your breath and the hazing dizziness in your head faded away, you opened your eyes. 

Nothing. 

You propped up on your elbows to sit up, but you were alone. Looking around, your apartment hadn't changed. No one seemed to be here. 

But it felt so real. He felt so real. 

Sighing, you got up to clean up. Slowly, but surely you were going crazy. 

After putting on your panties and sweats you decided to go to sleep, since apparently you needed it. Much. 

- 

The next day, you decided to go for a run after breakfast to clear your head and you had a feeling it really helped you. You kept on the clothes from last night, throwing them in the hamper afterwards anyway. 

When you reached your home again, you took a peek in the mailbox as usual. 

A letter from FC Barcelona dropped into your hands. Adressed not to you, but to Pedri Gonzalez - Lopez. 

Pedri. A nickname. Interesting. 

Or not. He was probably just a fan. 

Deciding not to snoop, you made your way over to his house and rang the doorbell. Hopefully he was already awake. 

After a few minutes, he opened the door. 

"Buenos dias. Up so early already ? What can I do for you ?" he smiled at you. 

It threw you a little off guard and you didn't even know why. You cleared your throat. 

"Buenos dias. Umm.. this was in my mail box" God, you couldn't even look him in the eyes. 

Handing him the letter, you stopped. There was a familiar black ring decorating his finger. 

No. That would mean he... 

That would mean last night wasn't a dream and he actually broke into your house. No. It was probably just a coincidence. 

"So.. aren't you gonna let go ?" he cocked an eyebrow. 

"Oh yes, sure. I'm sorry" 

You really needed to get a grip. Or a doctor. Or both. 

"Thank you, have a nice day." he smiled again. "By the way... I really like that color. It suits you." 

Pedri winked and closed the door, leaving you flushed and startled. 

Oh, what a realistic imagination you had.

A/N: I know this probably isn't what you had in mind when requesting but I hope you still enjoy reading.

A slightly darker, but still intriguing take. Yes I know that Pedri would probably never ever do this, but maybe it was all just the readers' fantasy anyway 😝

Let me know what you think 💕

#pedri smut #pedri gonzalez #pedri fanfic #pedri one shot #pedri x reader #pedro gonzález lópez

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Nightlife 13

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, touching, coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note: I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you doing this? Well, you wanted bouncer Lee and I did too. Also, short!reader, not sorry.

Part of The Club AU

You have to make the call. You have no choice. One way or another, your father will find out and it will be worse if it’s not from you.

Another D and you're below water. You have no chance now. You’ll be lucky to finish with a C average for the semester and with that, you’ll lose your entry scholarship. You don’t understand where you went wrong. You try so hard. It doesn’t matter, it seems the more you try, the more wrong you are.

You hit the green button and wait for the line to pick up. You wait.

Waiting.

Still waiting.

The voicemail answers. You’re not surprised. You often have to leave several before you hear back. Yet when your father calls you, you answer. You don’t hesitate. 

“Hey dad, it’s me. I called because… because I need to talk to you. Please call me back. Love you.”

You hang up after leaving the message and blow a raspberry. He hasn’t even told you when he’s picking you up from campus after exams. Another week and you’re going to be done. You already have half your dorm packed.

In those short spurts where you’re not at Lee’s, you're sorting everything into the donate and take piles. Most of it you’ll leave behind, things you won’t need at your dad’s place. Things you can replace.

As soon as you put your phone down, it vibrates. You huff and pick it up. You need to study, even if it doesn’t matter.

Lee. Again. You’re not surprised. You almost admire his persistence given your own inconsistency.

‘Still coming over, sweet thing?’

Shoot. You don’t remember him asking. That’s the thing about Lee. He seems to frame demands as questions. Or maybe you really or that hopeless. You answer him. Sure. Why not? Not like anything will change if you do.

You get your bag ready to go and head down. Your dorm mates are bogged down studying, a few already gone as their exams finished early. Life seems easier as them. You suppose that most people see the world like that; they want to be someone else, though no one would ever want to be you.

You sit on the curb and wait. You tune out the world with your headphones. It’s been a while since you listened to music. Really listened without any distraction. 

Your head pops up as you see the familiar car approach. You stand and cross the street. You get in the car. The routine is just that. You’re used to it. You haven’t told Lee yet either. He doesn’t know that you’re going home for summer. You don’t expect him to be happy to hear it but it can’t be a big surprise. All the college students are leaving.

“Hey, darlin’,” he leans over to kiss your cheek as you pull your earbuds out, “whatcha listening to?”

“Oh, just…nothing–”

“Nah, go on, put it on,” he insists as he hands you auxiliary cord, “I could use something new.”

“Really, it’s–”

“Come on, I wanna listen.”

You don’t argue. Why? It’s a small thing. It’s nothing. You unplug your headphones and shove the cord into the port. Your music plays automatically.

So come on, Virginia, show me a sign Send up a signal, I'll throw you the line The stained-glass curtain you're hiding behind Never let's in the sun

Billy Joel croons from the speakers as you place your phone in the cupholder. You sit back and buckle in as he hums and gives a thoughtful nod. He taps his fingers on the wheel before he pulls out.

“You got a taste for the classics,” he muses, “I ain’t heard this in a while.”

“Uh, yeah, I like it,” you shrug.

“Good song,” he remarks, “I’m a fan of You May Be Right, myself. But I’m not too picky. You listen to Seger? How about Elton? You seem that sorta girl.”

“Some, yeah,” you cling to your bag and watch through the window.

“Hickory missin’ ya,” he says, “ain’t ya excited to see him?”

“Yeah,” you answer glumly.

“Whatsa matter, then? Don’t know why you’d be so down when you got that rascal waiting on ya… and me.”

“Just school,” reply evasively.

“Ah, yeah, you were saying you’re having some troubles. Wish I could help.”

“Ugh, well… no one can help me now,” you plant your elbow on your door and put your chin on your fist.

“Now, don’t be moping ‘less you gonna tell me what’s going on,” he says grumpily.

You sigh. You can barely admit it to yourself. You don’t even know if you can say it out loud.

Your vision turns bleary and you sniffle. It’s too late. You should’ve asked for help months ago. You made promises you didn’t keep and now you have to accept the failure. You wipe away your tears and sit back.

“My GPA is garbage. I’m gonna lose my scholarship and my dad– my dad’s gonna kill me.”

“Oh, honey, kill you? Don’t talk like that. I’m sure he wouldn’t, not a sweet thing like you. Besides, if he’s an ass about it, you still got me, don’t ya?”

You nod but refuse to look at him. He’s sweet but he can’t understand. Your dad isn’t the type to just say oh well or to give second chances. This semester was a second chance and you blew it.

“Maybe it just isn’t for you. Schoolin’ and all. I know lots of people who never did it,” he speaks as he drives. “Or maybe you’re in the wrong kinda school.”

“Maybe,” you grumble and pick at the zipper on your bag.

“You can change, can’t ya? Pick something else. Something you’re better at,” he suggests. “Like I said, I went into the military. They offered me some school but I told ‘em not to waste the time.”

“I don’t know what I’m good at,” you sigh.

“Well, you’re good to me,” he says brightly, “you know I’ll help ya. I’ll take care of ya no matter what.”

“But you don’t have to.”

“I wanna. Why are you sayin’ that?”

“Cause… cause it’s a lot. Don’t you think?”

“No, wouldn't say it if I thought it was too much,” he rebuffs, “don’t get no attitude with me, now.”

“I– I’m not but… but… I don’t want to…” you shake your head and stare at the dash, “I’m going home for the summer, Lee. I have to go home. And I feel bad with you doing all this–”

“Going home?” He says so quietly, his voice almost cracks, “but, darlin’, I’m taking you home right now. Ain’t I?”

“That’s your home. I mean, my dad. I gotta… I gotta figure this all out. When he finds out–”

“You’re a goddamn adult,” he growls and grips the wheel tight, “you shouldn’t be so worried about him and damn it, he should be treatin’ ya a lot better.”

“I know, but he’s my dad. He– he paid my tuition. He’s gonna want me to work that off at the restaurant–”

“Work? He– What the heck is wrong with ya? You shouldn’t be workin’? Silly little thing. He’s your dad, he should be supportin’ ya, not takin’ from ya,” he seems angrier with each word, “what kinda man– and you’re gonna leave me for him?” He snarls, “just like that. You’re gonna hurt me?”

“Hurt you? No, but… but I have to.”

“You don’t gotta do nothing. Sounds to me like he don’t want anything to do with ya anyhow, so maybe you should stay in town.”

“My lease is over at the end of the month.”

“Mine ain’t,” he insists.

He’s quiet. You squirm and bite your lip, “Lee?”

“You said you was gonna marry me. How’re you gonna do that if you’re all the way somewhere else?”

“I know I said but… I’m nineteen. I thought you meant later.”

“I’m a lot older than nineteen,” he scoffs, “I’m not waiting til later.” He sneers through the windshield, “you said. You promised!”

“I did, but–”

“But? But you were just lyin’, I get it.”

You nearly choke. You weren’t lying. You just were caught off guard and didn’t know what to say. Like now. You're not just stunned by the sudden shift, you're scared.

“I didn’t lie,” you croak, “please…”

You cover your face and take several deep breaths, trying to hold back. He huffs and you feel his firm touch on your leg. He squeezes as he slows the car.

“Don’t cry, darlin’, alright? Don’t do none of that. I know you meant it. Let’s just figure this all out first, schoolin’ and all that. Alright?” He coaxes, “you know I’ll be there for ya, don’t ya? No matter what your dad says.”

“Yeah,” you drag your hands from your face.

“And I know you’re not gon’ leave Hick. He needs ya around.”

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #the devil all the time #drabble #au #nightlife #series

[bellaxgiornata]

Safe Haven [Chapter Four]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.6k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: Chapter four is here since you all did not want me to wait to post! This one also features a Mikey POV at the end! I'll be working on chapter five soon and that one will feature a Mikey in need of comfort because of 'the Jamie thing' that is coming. The entire list of chapters for this series is here and I always love hearing y'all's feedback so feel free to chat!

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @winterschildren17 @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella2 @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom

Throwing the sheets off of yourself, you sat upright in bed and ran a hand across your eyes in an attempt to rub the sleep out of them. Thankfully this morning was already starting off better than yesterday–no nightmares at least. Though you assumed it was because you’d been a little wine drunk when you’d crashed last night. That often resulted in dreamless sleep for you.

You’d needed that entire bottle of wine after the day you’d had yesterday, though. Between the nightmare that had woken you up terrified, to the strange way your neighbor could so easily draw your past right to the surface, to that sketchy, anonymous email that had you calling your editor Angela in the evening. You hadn’t even been sure if the email had been him or related to him, but it had sent you into a panic nevertheless. Because that had been your work email, something very few people had access to. And all it said was your name–your actual name, not one of the many fake ones you’d been giving out on the run.

Of course you’d changed to a new email for work immediately after finding that last night, Angela becoming quite frustrated with the whole situation when you’d called. But you needed to be careful and you couldn’t bring yourself to care that you’d inconvenienced her with having to update a handful of people on the yet again new way to reach her clearly paranoid author. She always handled it because your series was bringing in good revenue and the publishing company you’d signed with didn’t want to risk you to a competitor just because you were eccentric .

Gradually you managed to get out of bed, tapping the screen of your phone and checking the time. It was just past seven this morning. You frowned, realizing you hadn’t really managed much more sleep even without the nightmares. 

Trudging your way over to your window, you were desperate to let whatever bit of morning light there was blanket your room and hopefully lift your mood. You decided that today you’d just search for a nearby coffee shop on your phone and head there instead of aimlessly wandering in search of one. Angela had told you last night that you’d fallen behind on your social media presence and that she had approved some things for you to update your Instagram with. She’d also urged you to engage with your readers a bit more. All things that made you wary about accidentally revealing too much about your location. 

Reaching out a hand when you stopped in front of your window, you tugged the curtain back–and then froze. Your eyes went wide and your mouth fell open in surprise before you could recover and hide your stunned reaction. Apparently Michael had just woken up and decided to open his curtain at the exact same moment as you–though he’d apparently not thought to throw on anything over the pair of navy blue boxers that were riding up his very thick thighs. Swallowing hard, your eyes roved up from his muscular thighs, pausing a moment to appreciate what outlines you could make out through his rumpled boxers, before taking in the dark hair covering his lightly defined stomach and chest. His tattoos were all visible along his arm, your eyes briefly raking over those curiously–you’d always had a weak spot for tattoos. 

When your eyes finally landed on his face, heat rose to your cheeks as your fist tightened around the curtain. He’d certainly noticed you openly checking him out if that small grin on his mouth was anything to go by. Slowly he raised his right hand, sending you a small wave. You released the curtain from your death grip, waving in return. His grin grew into a brief smile before his hand dropped back to his side. He ducked his head and turned, making his way away from the window. Your eyes instinctively lowered before you inhaled a sharp breath. He had a nice ass, too. 

Michael came to a stop in front of his closet a few steps later before looking back at you over his shoulder. Your eyes flew back up to his face, growing wide at having been caught checking out his ass. Spinning around until your back was to the window, you winced. Embarrassment flooded you instantly. 

“Why is it always awkward encounters?” you muttered to yourself. 

Forcing yourself to leave the bedroom–and thus ending Michael’s view of your embarrassment–you made your way downstairs and towards the kitchen. Though you couldn’t help but notice the way it felt like your body temperature had increased from that encounter. It was not fair that he was that fucking attractive and just openly flaunting it in front of your window–accidental or not. The image of him like that was certainly not going to leave your mind any time soon. And like hell if you weren’t itching for another peek already.

"No," you told yourself firmly. "Not thinking about that. Don't care how badly I want to run my fingers through that chest hair."

Shaking your head, you tried your best to push the image of your almost naked neighbor from your mind as you pulled a pan out of one of the cabinets. But unfortunately with how attractive he was, and how long it had been since you’d last had sex, you’d nearly burned your eggs this morning when your mind inevitably wandered back to what was hidden under those boxers.

Chin resting in your hand, you scrolled on your laptop through the massive amounts of notifications on your Instagram–the platform Angela had been most adamant about you focusing on for your social media presence. You’d already added two new images that had been pre-approved and posted a photo of yourself with your coffee for your stories. And you had quadruple checked twice that there was absolutely nothing but you, your coffee, and the plain white wall behind you in that image before you’d shared it with a little blurb about how your writing was coming along. 

Everything had been posted for barely fifteen minutes, but you were already getting bombarded with a rush of notifications, especially with your inactivity for the past week. How did you manage to just pick a few and answer only those? Especially when everytime you responded to one, you’d get a handful of new notifications? 

Your eyes closed, trying to push down that overwhelming feeling beginning to wash over you. Focusing on your breathing for a minute, you inhaled deeply and held your breath before gently releasing it. You repeated that a few more times until you felt like the walls of the coffee shop were no longer about to come closing in on you. 

“Just need to answer a few,” you mumbled. “Not all of them. They understand you’re busy.”

With a sigh, you opened your eyes and began scrolling through the first comments on your most recent posts, figuring you’d start there. Soon after, you found yourself in a rhythm, even enjoying answering the messages. Though you’d been extra cautious with each of your responses, making sure you weren’t inadvertently giving away anything that could be used to find where you currently were located. 

You’d eventually lost track of the time, only drawn away from what you’d been doing when your phone began vibrating on the table beside your almost empty coffee cup. Eyes darting away from your laptop, you reached out and answered the call after seeing Angela’s name written across the screen.

“Hey, Ang,” you greeted.

She greeted you brightly in return with your name. Clearly she was in a good mood this afternoon.

“I see you’re taking what I said last night seriously,” she continued. “Engaging your readers. Updating your socials. That’s all absolutely wonderful.”

“Glad you approve,” you answered, picking your coffee up and draining the rest of the contents.

“So I spoke with David and we moved your deadline for those chapters back just a bit, as you requested,” Angela continued. “Though you’re going to need to deliver on that this time. No more random wanderlust and uprooting to another country. You ate up too much of your last deadline dealing with all of that.”

Better than being dead, you thought.

“I hear you, Ang,” you replied, two fingers pinching the bridge of your nose. You could feel the beginning of a headache coming on. “I’m working on it. It’s top priority. I promise.”

“Good, that’s good,” she said.

There was a brief pause on the line and your eyes closed instantly. You knew what was coming.

“I’m not doing a book tour,” you deadpanned.

“David is–”

“No tours and no signings,” you stated. “Blame it on my writing process or my muse. I don’t give a shit, Ang. I’m not doing it. Socials are one thing, but I’m not traveling around. Not like that. Not right now.”

“I know you’re a private person–”

“No,” you repeated firmly. “You want an author to finish this series? No.”

Angela drew in a deep, audible inhale before you heard her blow out a long, sharp breath. There was another moment of silence on the line; you could hear her anxiously tapping her nails on her desk. There was no way you’d be convinced to do either of those, though. You couldn’t risk publicly announcing where you were going to be and when.

“Alright,” she said with a huff. “Then you better up your interactions on socials. I want a bigger presence to show David. Something to appease him with. And I want those chapters. If you can manage them before that third deadline extension it’ll make David very happy.”

“Mmm,” you hummed out, your eyes drawn back to your laptop as you mindlessly scrolled through the messages piling up in your inbox. “I’m sure it would.”

“I’ve also addressed the issue from last night,” she continued. “As far as I’m aware we’ve had no breach of security on our end and no one has inquired about your email address. Though I did contact everyone with your new email address first thing this morning.”

“Thanks, Ang,” you said, scrolling through what had refreshed in your inbox as you felt the ache in your temple begin to increase. “I appreciate it.”

“You ever going to tell me what’s going on?” she asked, dropping her professional tone.

“Better if I don’t,” you answered, your eyes skimming over the many messages–but a profile picture abruptly caught your attention. Eyes narrowing, you immediately scrolled backwards until you spotted the image again. 

Your lips pressed firmly together as you sat there in the coffee shop booth, your eyes glued to the image, everything else around you falling away. It was a symbol–one you’d know anywhere. An upside down crucifix with a diamondback rattlesnake wrapped around it. It felt like your heart had stopped in your chest at the sight of it. You couldn’t breathe as your eyes remained fixed on the image. 

“Hey, you still there?”

Blinking rapidly you realized you were still holding the phone to your ear. You swallowed hard, feeling like a lump was stuck in your throat.

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” you muttered. 

“I was saying–”

“I actually need to go, Ang,” you said in a rush. “Can we talk later?”

She sighed loudly on the phone, clearly irritated. “Yeah, sure. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

“Great,” you said.

You didn’t wait for her to respond before you hung up, your eyes still focused on the profile picture. Feeling conflicted, you weren’t sure if you should open the message or not. You didn’t want to read anything from him. You knew it would only send you into a further panicked spiral. But you also knew if there was any clue that he’d found you in that message, you would rather know now so maybe you’d have time to run.

Chewing the inside of your cheek anxiously, you slid the cursor over to the message and then opened it. You held your breath as your eyes skimmed the simple text: ‘can't hide from me, honey.' Your eyes flew frantically around the coffee shop, taking in the face of every stranger around you and carefully examining each one. None of the coffee shop patrons were him though.

Fear unfurled in your stomach, icy cold and terrifyingly sharp. The hair on the back of your neck rose as panic gradually grew inside of you. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched and you hated not knowing if you were. Because maybe he’d finally figured out who your sister was and where she lived. Maybe he knew you were here with her. Maybe he’d already found you.

In a panic you closed out of your tabs and slammed your laptop shut. You stuffed it hurriedly back into your bag before throwing the strap over your shoulder and darting off back to Megan’s, glancing over your shoulder constantly as you went.

Michael was tired by the time he’d made it back to his place; it had been a very long walk back from the car dealership. He’d also had an exhausting day stuck washing cars and he knew he’d be back at it again tomorrow. He knew Frank had been the one to tell Amanda to give him that position, too. He’d wanted to give him a shit job intentionally, hoping he’d quickly get tired of it and get back to what he used to do. But Michael wouldn’t be doing that, not this time.

And it had hurt earlier when he’d gone to lunch with Amanda, those forty-five minutes only adding to his exhaustion. Not just because of how difficult it was to see her now, especially with their past lingering in his mind, but also when the topic of his daughter Anna had eventually been brought up. He’d told her exactly what he’d told Frank and Jimmy–that he was laying low and staying out of trouble so that the courts would let him see her again. But what Amanda had said in return felt like a knife to his heart. Her words had wounded him deeply, words that he’d kept replaying in his mind for the rest of the day as he toiled over washing cars.

“Maybe the kindest thing is just to leave her be.”

He disagreed though–the right thing for him to do was to make things up to her. To be her father again, in whatever way he could be.

He’d said nothing to Amanda in the moment, of course. Remained polite despite the tension hanging over every interaction between the pair of them since he’d returned from prison the other night. He tried to tell himself it’s because Amanda had both of her boys, she didn’t know what it was like to have one of them ripped away. She didn’t know how it felt to desperately want to have your own child back in your life again after eight long years without them. She had no idea how he’d spent every single goddamn day of those eight years thinking about Anna. Not a day had gone by that he didn’t. And he’d vowed to himself that when he got out, he would do whatever he could to be in her life. To do right by her.

The closer Michael got to his house, the more he began to pick up on the sound of hushed voices outside. His steps slowed, his eyes narrowing as his train of thought was broken. As he rounded the corner of the stone fence around his drive, he realized it was you and your sister whispering roughly in front of her place. Despite knowing he shouldn’t, Mikey paused and leant up against the tall stone fence separating your half-sister’s drive from his, ducking his head so he wouldn’t be seen.

“...you’re sure no one’s asked at work?” your unmistakable voice whispered.

“No, Grace, you’re being paranoid.”

“Can you fucking blame me?” you snapped.

“I’ve told no one, okay?” your sister replied quickly. “No one knows you’re here. It’s not from me. Honestly, he’s probably just messing with you. Freaking you out on purpose to make you slip up. Because clearly it’s working–I mean look at you. You look terrified.”

Michael’s head canted to the side, a frown tugging at his lips as his mind quickly filled with questions. Was someone after you? Was that what the two of you were talking about? The same one who’d hurt you and clearly had you falling apart on the walk you’d taken with him yesterday? Were you hiding out at your sister’s and that’s why you’d come to Dublin? 

“Yeah, well, he’s fucking terrifying,” you whispered. “Let’s just go inside and relax, alright? We can talk about it while I take these shoes off.”

You must have agreed because the conversation came to an end. A few moments later he heard the telltale sound of the front door closing. 

That was strange, Michael thought as he continued on towards his own front door. He pulled his key out of his pocket, unlocking his door and making his way into his home. Birdy appeared to be right, you were certainly hiding something. But who would be after you? An abusive ex? But if you were just hiding from an abusive ex, why come all the way from the States to Dublin? That seemed like quite a big move. Was there more you could possibly be tied up in?

Michael’s mind ran wild with even more questions as he headed upstairs and to his bedroom. He undressed from his work clothes, throwing on a loose and wrinkled tee-shirt and some comfortable sweatpants in his bedroom. He hadn’t bothered to close the curtains before changing, having already looked for you in your bedroom first out of his window. It had been empty. 

Though briefly he recalled this morning when the two of you had had a moment of some sort. He’d certainly caught your eyes taking in the sight of him in just his boxers, slowly scanning over every inch of him. It hadn’t been intentional that he’d done that; he’d woken and gone to the window almost like a natural thing. But he certainly had enjoyed the look on your face–surprise at first, but then interest and approval. And when he’d turned to throw on clothes for the day, he’d caught you still standing there watching him, your eyes darting up as if you’d been checking out his ass. You’d looked adorable when you’d realized he’d caught you, your eyes widening in horror before you’d spun around and left your bedroom. 

It was hard to believe you were the same woman just moments ago out front sounding panicked. And Michael found himself incredibly curious. Did you need help?

Dressed in comfortable clothes, Michael made his way back down the stairs. He thought he’d try to relax, maybe read a little more of his book to hopefully quiet his mind before he ate some of the food Birdy had brought him last night. He’d been looking forward to a quiet night in before sleeping in his own bed yet again, but as he made his way through the sitting room, about to reach down and pick up his book from his coffee table, movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. His gaze darted out of his back door and eventually landed on you. 

You were standing at the back garden fence, your arms leaning along the top of it and your face buried atop of them. For some reason his heart ached at the sight of you like that. You looked so defeated all drawn in on yourself curled over the fence. Small, even. Fragile. 

He found himself drawn to you, his feet already shuffling their way towards his back door. He slid it open, not bothering to be quiet so he would hopefully alert you to his approaching presence, but even when he’d closed the door behind himself you hadn’t so much as moved. He made his way across his back garden towards you, deciding to finally call out.

“Ya alrigh’ over there, Grace?” he asked carefully.

You jumped, your head flying up out of your arms and swinging towards him swiftly. He paused his approach, his hands raising to show he’d meant no harm. That ache in his chest only grew when he spotted the wet tear streaks glistening on your cheeks and the look of sheer panic on your face. He felt himself soften to you instantly, his steps resuming when the panic had eased from your expression.

“I’m fine,” you answered, rubbing the sleeves of your sweatshirt across your damp cheeks. 

“Forgive me for sayin’ so, but, ya don’t look it,” he replied carefully.

Your arms wrapped around your chest, your eyes tracking Michael’s movements as he came to stand beside the stone fence near you. He rested his forearms along it slowly, leaning forward towards you. He offered you a faint smile, watching you watch him with that wary expression.

“What every girl wants to hear,” you muttered.

He shrugged a shoulder. “Wasn’t tryin’ to flirt with ya just now,” he said.

Michael saw the corner of your lip twitch, almost as if you’d been about to smile but you’d decided to hold back. He wished you wouldn’t have.

“That implies you’d try to flirt with me some other time,” you pointed out bluntly.

He chuckled, his gaze dropping down to the stone beneath his hands. Despite the heat creeping up his cheeks at your boldness, he’d found himself quite enjoying it. You often spoke what was on your mind. He found it refreshing in comparison to the way most of his family hid what they really meant behind the things they said and did. 

“Quite possible after seein’ how ya were checkin’ me out this mornin’,” he teased, glancing up at you from under his lashes.

Satisfaction flooded him when he saw your bottom lip slip in between your teeth, embarrassment washing over your features. That only further proved his suspicions–you had been checking him out this morning. And you’d found him attractive. Which made him feel a little more bold in return. 

“Wasn’t exactly expecting that when I opened my curtains,” you mumbled, your gaze falling to your feet.

“I apologize,” he replied. “Wasn’t thinkin’ when I woke. Won’t happen again.”

A silence fell between the pair of you, Michael noticing the way you’d somehow seemed to gravitate closer towards him during this conversation. He found he’d liked that you had.

“Be honest with me,” you suddenly said, the words catching Michael off guard and causing his brows to furrow as you abruptly looked up at him. “Why’d you step outside?”

"Wh–what?" Michael stammered out.

"Just now," you clarified. "Why'd you step outside?"

He hesitated for a moment, trying to comprehend why you’d asked. “I–I wondered if ya were alrigh’?” he said slowly. “Ya looked upset.”

You nodded quickly, taking a step closer towards him. “Yeah, you said that,” you pointed out. “But why do you care?”

Michael raised a hand from the stone fence, running it across his mouth awkwardly as his gaze dropped downwards. You’d certainly called him right out on that.

“Forgive me for sayin’ this, Grace,” he answered carefully, a partial wince on his face as he continued, “but ya seem…troubled. And I–I just want to make sure you’re alrigh’.”

“But why?” you pressed.

Michael tore his gaze from the fence, his eyes falling on you again. Yours were slightly narrowed, staring back at him with an intensity that made it feel like his soul was suddenly laid bare before you. It was disarming and unexpected, but he also couldn’t look away.

“I don’t exactly know,” he answered softly, your eyes still holding his in place. “But ya were there for me the other night. A total stranger, one who ya’d known was straight outta prison.” He huffed out a laugh, his hand lightly patting the worn stone fence beneath it. “Ya jumped a fence for me.”

“Anyone would have done that,” you replied quickly.

Michael shook his head, a small smile on his mouth. “No,” he said slowly. “Ya know that’s not true.”

Your gaze abruptly broke from his, focusing down along your shoes again. Your arms hugged your chest a bit tighter as your hands slipped beneath the sleeves of your oversized sweatshirt. For some reason he found himself overcome with a curiosity to get to know you better. 

“Would ya–would ya fancy gettin’ a drink sometime?” he asked cautiously. "Or a–a coffee?"

Your eyes snapped right back up to his face. This time you were the one who looked shocked, your brows having jumped up onto your forehead at his question. After overhearing the conversation you’d had with your sister and catching you clearly crying in the backyard, he was aware his timing wasn’t quite the best, but still, he wanted to try.

“A drink?’ you asked.

“As a–a thank ya of sorts,” he quickly replied, rubbing a hand nervously over the back of his neck. “For bein’ there for me the other night.”

“That sounds awfully like you’re asking me on a date, Mr. Kinsella,” you pointed out. 

“And what if–if I was?” he questioned you, hope in his tone. “Maybe not this time but–but maybe another time?”

A frown pulled at your lips instantly and Michael’s heart sank in his chest. You were going to tell him no. Somehow he was more disappointed by that than he’d anticipated he’d be.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to go on a date,” you answered softly, shaking your head. “I uh, I can’t exactly get involved with anyone.”

One of Michael’s brows drew up onto his forehead. That was certainly not the explanation he’d been expecting. He figured you’d say it’s because of his family. Because he’d been in prison. Because you’d Googled him and read about some of the things he’d done. But it was because you couldn’t get involved with someone? Why? And did that mean, under different circumstances, you’d have said yes?

“Thanks for–for checking on me but I should get back inside,” you said quickly, your hands rubbing your arms like you were cold. “Have a good night, Michael.”

“G’night, Grace,” he replied.

He watched as you turned, slowly making your way back towards the house. Michael remained there at the fence, both of his hands resting along it as he watched you. But when you'd barely made it halfway towards the door, he found himself calling your name. You turned, a questioning look on your face. 

"Why'd ya want to know why I stepped out?" he asked.

You eyed him for a long moment, turning a little more towards him with your arms still crossed over your chest. After a lengthy period of your silence he wondered if you were even going to answer his question. 

"Because you're not what I expected," you finally replied, your voice just loud enough for him to hear. 

"Is that good or bad?" he called out.

Your head tilted to the side before you shook it slowly. "I'm not sure yet," you called back.

He couldn't resist the pleased smile that slipped onto his mouth as you turned and continued walking back to the house. When you slid the back door open, he saw you pause and glance over your shoulder. Your eyes landed on him and he felt his heart flutter in his chest–something it hadn’t done in a very long time. He raised a hand, sending you a small wave. You nodded at him, a faint smile spreading on your lips. And then you stepped inside, leaving Michael standing by the fence wondering what the hell he’d stepped into with you and why he wasn’t remotely attempting to walk away from it.

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella x female reader #michael kinsella #michael kinsella angst

[samstree]

the valley will bloom again

(obikin, 3k, a little sickfic as writing exercise, also on ao3)

Obi-Wan drifts in and out of sleep with worry lodged in his heart, in a bed that is too warm for comfort.

The Force is heavy from the sickness in the room, and his dreams are troublesome, interrupted by the occasional coughs. There are two distinctive sounds to them, one small and quiet, from a three-year-old child unfortunate enough to catch the blue fever from a playmate. The other hoarse and much more labored, shaken out of scarred lungs, and often followed by a warning beep from the respirator.

The Force keeps him alert even in dream. Obi-Wan registers every cough, every sniffle from his two Skywalker boys.

He senses Luke’s sickness, like a tiny bundle of misery, curled next to Anakin’s steady, protective aura, unaware of the quivering in his father’s signature. The blue fever hits adults equally hard, if not harder when it comes to Anakin and his half-broken lungs.

Even with rounds of surgeries and reconstructions, the Sith’s tortures left a mark on their lives, the Force lightning leaving more than the physical scars on Anakin’s torso. The oxygen tube under his nose and the respirator clipped to his belt serve as a constant reminder. Even after three years and buried deep in his grave, Palpatine still won’t let them live in peace.

Sweat clings to his undershirt when Obi-Wan wakes up from another beep from the respirator, the machine resting on their bedside table, doing its job and pumping air into Anakin’s chest dutifully.

He is alert in an instant, and realizes that he has slept for way longer than expected. The morning light shimmers under the curtains. Another sunny day on Naboo is about to start.

“Blast,” Obi-Wan curses quietly.

He didn’t mean to sleep all the way until morning. Both Anakin and Luke need to take the fever reducer twice during the night.

“Hush, he’s finally asleep.”

Anakin’s voice is barely a whisper when he answers, wrecked by the coughing and exhaustion.

Obi-Wan blinks away the last remnants of sleep from his eyes to find Anakin facing away from him, lying on his side and curled around Luke’s sleeping form. He props himself up on one arm, and rests the other on Anakin’s shoulder to check on both of them.

Luke’s head is pillowed on Anakin’s arm, right above where the durasteel hand connects to the flesh arm, his face pressed into Anakin’s shirt. His eyes are squeezed shut, the little brow furrowed with discomfort, but the unhealthily red blush has faded from his round cheeks. Obi-Wan brushes back the messy, blonde hair on the boy’s forehead gently to feel for his temperature. Luckily, the fever has gone down during the night.

But there are tear streaks from the corners of Luke’s eyes, his lashes still wet and quivering.

“Oh, my sweet darling.”

Obi-Wan’s heart clenches at the sight. He reaches out in the Force, sensing lingering fear around Luke’s small but bright Force, and sends a wave of comfort.

“He had a nightmare,” Anakin says, before a heavy exhale. “Cried for half of the night and finally went back to sleep when I held him.”

“And I slept through all of it. How did I not wake up? I…” Obi-Wan curses himself again. He finally shifts his attention to Anakin only to find dark circles under his eyes. “Oh, dearest, did you sleep at all?”

Anakin only squeezes his eyes shut for a moment to swallow down a cough, but it ends up shaking his whole body. His flesh hand rests on Luke’s back, rubbing small circles when the boy stirs from the sound.

The rises and falls of Anakin’s chest are labored even with the help of the respirator. The breathing tube is dislodged from one side of his face, so Obi-Wan rights it on instinct, tucking it in place behind his ear.

“I’m fine.” Anakin shies away from Obi-Wan’s touch when he tries to feel his forehead. “It’s the little ones that need fussing. Thank the stars Leia didn’t catch it.”

Obi-Wan reaches out to the other twin, just to be sure. He closes his eyes to brush against Leia’s healthy Force signature on the other end of the estate. She’s soundly asleep in the opposite wing, in the same room as Padmé. Too often the twins will sense it when the other is sick and develop symptoms out of nowhere, purely through their connection in the Force, but not this time, luckily for them.

“You are right. She feels healthy and rested. Light in the Force. She’s happy, darling, so don’t worry.” Obi-Wan lets out a relieved sigh. “The blue fever only got the two of you, it seems.”

“Next time when we arrange a play date with Nautolan children, make sure none of them has a runny nose. Who would have thought aquatic species are natural carriers to—”

Anakin lets out another cough, and one leads to another, and another. His breaths come out short and irregular, the muscles in his chest trembling as the violent coughing fit wrecks his body.

“By the gods, Anakin.” Obi-Wan touches his forehead and sweat-soaked curls, startled by the heat of his skin. It’s like being in contact with a small sun. “Your fever is getting worse. ‘I’m fine’, he says, while burning to death from catching his son’s cold.”

Anakin sucks in a shuddering breath, his lips turning into the beginning of a smile, ready to retort, only to wince from another cough. It dies down slowly, the small, tired wheezing sound still here and there, dragging short puffs of air in and out of his chest.

Obi-Wan knows he’s fussing, his hands panicking and unsure of what to do. He ends up stroking Anakin’s back as he regains control of his breathing. The respirator beeps again, a warning for hyperventilation.

“I’m really fine,” Anakin insists, the idiot that he is. His voice is raspy and laced with pain.

Obi-Wan has decided that Anakin will be his third favorite Skywalker today.

“Sure you are, only dying from a plague, like it’s another ordinary day. Now get up.” He shifts away, gesturing for Anakin to sit up. “I will get you a fever reducer and a muscle relaxant. We don’t want the muscle spasm to come back. Something to help you sleep, too. You’ll feel much better after proper rest.”

Stubbornly, Anakin shakes his head, still trying to soothe a still-asleep Luke with sweet murmurs.

“I don’t want Luke to wake up.”

“He didn’t wake up from you hacking up a lung. He’s not going to wake up now. Come on, I’ll take him. He can sleep on my side while I get you something.”

Obi-Wan throws the cover out of the way and pads around the bed. He bends down to press a kiss to Anakin’s damp, burning forehead, but even the gentle touch seems too much, making him shy away with a small whine. The fever must be making his skin sensitive. He also kisses Luke on his mussed hair, and gathers up the child in his arms.

“No, wait.”

Anakin is reluctant to let go, even though he is in no shape to put up a fight. His fingers are trembling. In the Force, Obi-Wan can sense the wave of love coming from his sickly, shivering aura, wrapping around Luke protectively. He really shouldn’t exert himself like this, but looking at Luke’s little face, who could blame him?

The boy murmurs in sleep “Obi…?”

“Yes, Luke dearest, it’s me. I’m right here. Hush now, it’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

Obi-Wan puts the warm bundle of a child over his shoulder with one arm, rocking gently as he rounds the bed, returning to his side. He pats down the pillow and nestles Luke in all the soft things, waiting as the boy falls back into deep sleep again. The tear tracks are still on his face, but there is no longer any sign of discomfort. He adds to Anakin’s Force signature and sends his own love to the boy, guiding him into a healing rest.

“There, see? Children are more resilient than you think, Anakin. He will be fine in no time.”

“I know, it’s just… He had a dream.”

Anakin stops himself there with the effort to sit up, his brows scrunched together at the creaking in his bones. Even the simple motion leaves him breathless, nearly toppling to the side.

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan shakes his head, equal parts exasperated and worried. He rushes to the other side of the bed again, catching Anakin’s swaying body. “Do you feel dizzy?”

For a few moments, all Anakin can do is take in one breath after another, the mechanical sounds of the respirator following each one. He nods, in the end, looking like he’s about to faint. “A little bit.”

“Of course. Only a little bit and don’t need my help at all.” Obi-Wan sits by the edge of the bed, taking most of Anakin’s weight, letting him sag against him. “What am I going to do with you?”

Anakin huffs humorlessly, resting his head on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, their thighs pressed together. The tube has fallen from his ear again, and Obi-Wan tucks it back in place. “I’m your least favorite today, aren’t I? I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Nonsense. You were my least favorite yesterday, too. And tomorrow, if you are still this stubborn.”

Obi-Wan pulls away to observe Anakin’s complexion, heart aching at the sight of his flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. He thought he had learned to live with all the health complications that followed the battle with the Sith, but with every flare-up, every relapse, it’s like they were back in the Halls of the Healing again from all those years ago. Not knowing if he could lose Anakin any second, if his barely-there breathing would simply stop.

He won’t. Obi-Wan berates himself silently, the fear in his chest washed away by guilt. They are here, and he won’t lose Anakin. Not from a simple fever.

He adjusts the oxygen tube again, checking that it’s not obstructed in any way, just to be sure.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin croaks, lips parted from the difficulty in his breathing. “You are fussing again.”

“Right.” He shakes out of any ill thought and pulls out the drawer of their bedside table, digging into the bottles of medication. “Let me get you the fever reducer.”

“And the muscle relaxer. I feel the spasm coming in.”

Anakin clutches the shirt at his chest, his durasteel fingers holding on tightly with each breath. His brow twitches, the subtle signs revealing what he won’t admit.

“It’s already started, you mean,” Obi-Wan sighs, pressing a hand over Anakin’s chest, feeling the tight muscles under his palm. “How long and how bad? On a scale of one to ten.”

“It started on and off during the night. Just got worse about an hour ago,” Anakin winces. “And it’s… a four?”

Obi-Wan sends him a look.

“Fine. A six.”

So Obi-Wan pours two capsules from one bottle into his hand. He opens another bottle, counting four pills, and then one more from the third bottle, and another two capsules from the last one. The motion is so familiar he could do it in sleep. Taking care of Anakin is second nature, after all.

He finds the glass of water left there last night, still half full, and helps Anakin down the pills two at a time.

“I can take it myself, you know?” Anakin coughs between swallowing. “I’m not actually a plague victim from the operas.”

“And your performance has been so convincing.”

His hands are shaking around the cup, so Obi-Wan never lets go.

With the fever reducer in his system, along with the painkillers and muscle relaxer, Anakin leans back with something akin to relief on his face. He’s doing the slow blinking thing he sometimes does, the one that says he’s moments away from falling asleep.

“How’s the pain?” Obi-Wan asks, gently messaging the spasming muscles in Anakin’s chest. The right side is a lot worse than the left today. He can feel the quivering in the taut muscles, the fluttering of Anakin’s heartbeat. It’s too quick for his liking.

“Getting better.” Anakin sinks into the pillows, head tilting to the side towards his son. His flesh hand is playing with the boy’s hair absently, taking a strand of golden lock and twisting it between his fingers. His face suddenly contorts with anguish. “Luke dreamed of Tatooine again.”

Obi-Wan pauses. “He did?”

“He doesn’t know where it is, can’t even describe the place properly, but every nightmare is the same. The twin suns, the sand, the never-ending desert.” When Anakin looks at Obi-Wan again, his eyes are red-rimmed and brimming with tears. “In every one of these dreams, I’m not there. He is always on Tatooine, looking for me, and I’m not there. He’s so scared, Obi-Wan. Why am I not with him? Why—why did I leave him there alone?”

“Darling. It’s just a dream.”

Tears stream down from the corners of Anakin’s eyes, and Obi-Wan hurries to wipe them away. He ends up with Anakin in his arms, sniffing softly and leaving a damp spot in his shirt. Luke turns towards his father, as if sensing his distress, his little face pressed against Anakin’s hand.

“No, it’s not like that.” Anakin shakes his head. “He has never been to Tatooine. He’s never even seen it. How could he know what it looks like?”

Obi-Wan soothes Anakin’s heartbreak with a kiss pressed into his curls. The fever must be muddling his mind, amplifying the worst fear in his mind.

“The Force works in mysterious ways, and he’s already so strong in it, Anakin. Perhaps, he sensed it from your memory.”

“Or, maybe his dreams are like mine. Not dreams at all.”

Something cold sinks into Obi-Wan’s gut.

“Oh,” he says, after a beat.

Being alone, stranded on hot, desolate Tatooine. It could be Luke’s future, simply manifesting in his dreams.

Obi-Wan has to look at Luke’s sleeping form, reassuring himself that their child is still sleeping in their bed, in his mother’s family home. Yes, he is here. He is inseparable from his sister, loved by both of his parents and by Obi-Wan. He is doted on by the Naberries, and somehow by the Organas whenever they visit. The boy loves Ahsoka, and he loves Rex. He has never not asked for many hugs whenever he sees them.

All of this is their reality.

“Dearest…” Obi-Wan sucks in a breath, looking down at the despair in those beautiful blue eyes. He catches another tear in his thumb. “If that is a possibility—”

“It can’t be.” Anakin sucks in a pained breath. “I won’t let that happen.”

Fear is clear in his voice, masked as a willful promise.

Obi-Wan lifts his legs from the floor and fully settles into the bed, with Anakin resting on his shoulder. He runs a hand through sweat-damp curls, and soothes Anakin’s fevered skin with soft caresses. Fear is also a dangerous thing. It reopens old wounds and makes them bleed anew.

“I know you are determined to protect your children, Anakin, and I feel the same way. You must believe me when I say I would gladly give my life to protect Luke and Leia without hesitation. They are the best things to ever happen to me, and my standards are high—I was once given a boy half made from the Force itself.” Obi-Wan sighs. “But you must not fret over a simple nightmare, something that should remain what it is. A dream is just a dream.”

“What if it’s not? You always say he is too similar to me.”

Obi-Wan has always said that with pride, about Luke’s strong will and his gentleness, the blue of his eyes and the sunlight in his hair. He never thought it would be the cause for the pain in Anakin’s voice right now.

“Oh, but he is, dear one, and I love him for it. So do you, when you are rested and seeing things clearly.”

Anakin hums, nuzzling into the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck, his weight settling, growing heavy in Obi-Wan’s arms. “I don’t want him to be like me. Be like Padmé, or you. Not me.”

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan whispers to himself. “I’d be quite proud, honestly.”

A full night’s worry and exhaustion must be catching up to him, because there’s no retort for that. Obi-Wan keeps on holding him, shushing and murmuring sweet nothings.

His Skywalkers all love to fall asleep the same way—being held and comforted. While Anakin drifts off slowly, Luke has also shifted his little body to curl against Anakin’s side, poking out his head from under his father’s arm. With a tired mumble, Anakin makes way for his son and holds him in place, the three of them ending up cuddled together.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin breathes out, a small cough bubbling up. His eyes are still closed, breaths warm and limbs heavy. “Promise me…”

“What, dear?” Obi-Wan tucks away a wayward curl.

“That they are free. They were both born free, promise me.”

Their room is silent apart from Luke’s soft snores and the sudden hammering of Obi-Wan’s heart. He reminds himself that his little family is safe and sound, tucked against his side in their bedroom, and the war is over.

Yes, the war is over.

“They are free, I promise.” He presses a kiss on Anakin’s forehead, their Force signatures tangling around each other’s while sleep drags Anakin under, soothed and content at the answer. “So are you, dear heart, and one day, you just might believe it.”

#obikin #obikin fic

[leggerefiore]

I see we're all thinking of prehistoric moths right now so I would like some silly fluff of the fuzzy dinosaur boys reacting to some sort of strange human habits that are foreign to them. Like singing being a very weird and confusing thing to do or the concept of bathing baffling both of them because they hate getting wet but you seem to love it.

moth men moth men

cw: slither wing twins, pokehybrid au, prehistoric men not getting modern things, fluff, poly (Ingo x reader, Emmet x reader)

~

Ingo felt confused by the sounds coming from you while in the strange “wet” room. You often disappeared into there after going out for the day and exited with some level of water on you. He was unsure as to the cause, but he also held a bit of disinterest. Still, he flinched when he heard you making loud sounds from the bathroom. They were rhythmic, almost like a chirp of excitement mixed with a scream. The mix in tone left him distressed but inquisitive.

He opened the door as you had taught him and entered the room. A heavy level of steam floated around the area and left him more unsettled. Was this like a hot spring? It made no sense. His attention was brought to the curtain blocking you from his sight. Your noises continued to dance in his ears as he felt worried. Were these cries for help?

The curtain was ripped back.

You nearly jumped at the sudden invasion of privacy but sighed after realising it was just your odd boyfriend. His head tilted as you gave a laugh. “… I was actually just thinking you need a bath,” you told him. His antennae twitched. You tugged him into the tub gently and watched as his fur puffed up alongside his wings tensing.

Water soaked into the Slither Wing hybrid with ease. Your hands quickly made their way around him, lathering up his fur with soap. He let out a sad chitter. This was uncomfortable for him, but he could tell you were not in pain at least.

The hot water hit his body nicely and removed the soap from alongside a variety of things that made your face drop. “Ingo… What even is that?” a certain debris from his fur left you confused. The Slither Wing made a confused noise. He was not sure himself. The water, however, was growing on him the longer he remained in the tub with you.

In the end, he did not find out what the odd noises you were making meant, but he did feel quite a bit nicer from the experience. He eagerly chattered to Emmet about the tub, who perked a bit up at the idea.

He went to you soon after and dragged you to the bathroom.

Emmet's unexpected shrieks and hisses had him rushing over. The soaked Slither Wing sat on your bed angrily while you whined for him to stop that, also covered in water.

Emmet did not get a bath that day, unfortunately.

~

Emmet tilted his head at the magical picture box. You turned it on quite often after work and spent hours staring at it or leaving it on the background. He observed the images it portrayed, but few caught his attention. A certain special about a cave in Unova and its high population of a certain bug-type made him whine and cry to you about a visit, but otherwise everything seemed quite boring.

Well, today's image caught his attention quite a bit. A modern version of his species stood in brutal combat against another creature that escaped his knowledge. It was a terrifying battle that Emmet would dread to find himself in. The Volcarona quickly dodged and attack before sending out a powerful fire attack. The opponent was knocked out immediately. Loud cheering followed the person behind the Volcarona stood in the middle of the field with them.

“Oh? Are you getting into league battles?” you asked the moth after entering the living room. Emmet turned his head to you and clicked eagerly. You gave giggle. “That's Alder and that's his Volcarona,” you explained, “… Mmm, I wonder what he'd think of you, actually.” Emmet crept towards you and tilted his head. Another battle had started, just as brutal as the last.

“See, humans do this with each other as a sport, I guess,” you continued, “I guess that has to seem odd to you.” He nodded. It was weird. Did humans enjoy such gruesome sights? Did you? Could he… Battle to impress you more? Oh, how he wished he had taken you into the crater instead of going off with you to this odd region. Your home was no where as comfortable as a nest. Your whines about him taking all of your blankets to make a proper one still made him pout.

“… You're thinking about building another nest,” you could tell by just looking at him.

He chirped.

~

Ingo listened to you making the odd sounds again as you used the strange heat device in the “food room”. He stood near you as you continued to make them. The hybrid desperately tried to recall the words he had learnt from the magical image box to use against you. As you turned down the heat from it, he took the opening. “What noise?” he asked after contemplating just what to say. You tilted your head at him.

“Noise…?” you hummed and then realised, “Oh! I was singing a song that I heard at work. It's been stuck in my head.” He nodded like he understood most of that. It was something that you heard, and it was on your mind… Suddenly, panic rushed through him. Was –

Was it a mating call?!

It could not be! You would never respond to such a thing.

Ingo's sudden chatters and whimpers caught you off guard as he clung to you. His big bug eyes stated at you desperately. He attempted to do his own mating call. His abilities definitely were not comparable to that of flying types, but his attempt was genuine. A giggle came from you as you cupped his cheeks. Pulling him in for a quick kiss, he felt pride that he won you over whoever's mating call you returned.

“Ingo, honey,” you cooed at him, “Let me show you music.”

He discovered he quite enjoyed music that day.

~

You flinched when Emmet caught your arm on your way out. His big eyes peered down at you while his wings sunk down. A terrible pout played across his lips. “Why leave?” he whimpered at you. It was a bit heartbreaking to see him in such a state. Turning around to face him, you gave a sweet yet quick hug before resting a hand on his upper arm.

“Work,” you told him, “It's like hunting but for money.” His brows furrowed. You realised that may have been a bad analogy for him.

“I can hunt,” his modern language was sometimes impressive, “Let me.” You shook your head and blocked him from leaving. If it was Ingo, you felt like you could easily toss him into some human clothes and say you have a foreign hybrid boyfriend who didn't speak Galarian very well, but Emmet would not be able to handle being surrounded by humans in a modern workplace. It was a wonder you did not snap there, you could only imagine how short the time that the Slither Wing hybrid could make it. If you could even get him into human clothes.

“It isn't like actual hunting,” you offered a better explanation, “You wouldn't like it. You would have to deal with humans.” He let out a huff and pulled you towards him into a hug.

“Stay.”

“Emmy, I can't,” you would like to, but you were not too sure your boss would appreciate the impromptu day off. His wings puffed out, and his eyes became watery. You sighed and pressed your forehead to his. “I'll be home soon, I promise… Um, if you hear someone knocking. Don't answer.”

Emmet tilted his head and nodded. The door was shut, and he proceeded to shred a pillow and eat it. He did not understand this stupid human “work.”

~

A few hours later a loud knocking rang out, and he answered despite Ingo hissing at him to not to.

The phone call from Elesa about giant moth men in your apartment made you come from work early, to Emmet's joy.

#ingo x reader #emmet x reader #ingo x reader x emmet #ingo/reader #emmet/reader #ingo/reader/emmet #pokehybrid au

[robynlilyblack]

The librarians assistant

Sirius Black and fem! shy! reader

[Requested – see request here]

Summary: Being the librarians assistant has its perks, one being a front row seat to a certain marauders pranks

Warnings: Sirius being a not-apologetic flirt and the librarian being the iconic queen she is

A/n: 1.6k words, reader is the same year as Sirius but helps out in the library, if anyone has read my bookshop girl series this is based off of the same librarian, the iconic queen she is. Thank you for the request, enjoy x

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At the start of your final year you began to help out in the library, of course you were less than one hour into your first shift when you saw Sirius Black bolting through the library. Even in his hurry he throw a wink at you as he passed. Despite only catching his eye for all of two milliseconds he left you completely flustered, so much you had to sit down for a few minutes to recover. 

You knew Sirius was a flirt, and he had every right to be with a pretty face like his. You hadn’t seen much of him in class, not that he attended all that often, usually off causing shenanigans, something which you had always wondered what it would be like to be a part of.

As the months went by you got a front row seat to his little feud with the librarian...

“I can’t believe he dyed the curtains pink, pink y/n, it’s so unflattering it creates an awful atmosphere. Oh merlin you know what it reminds me of that annoying little toad of a Slytherin a couple years below you, I think I'll burn it and buy new ones”

“I swear if I have to chase that boy around this library one more time they better give me one of those muggle gold medals, I’m getting too old for this”

“Whats he done now! Ugh the carpets have been turned all...fluffy…actually it is rather lovely for walking barefoot on but y/n please get my book, black makes it look like my library is built on a dog”

You enjoyed listening to her rants, mostly because you would imagine the boy in question, his cheeky look when he saw her reaction to his latest prank, the way you would see him with his hair in a bun but would always take it out before making his appearance.

Oh, and the cherry on top? The way he would look to you and flash that gorgeous smirk of his every time he visited. You would be a liar if you said a part of you didn’t hope it was because he fancied you, that maybe he upped his antics this year just to impress you, but there was no way a guy like him would be into a shy girl like you, right?

You were currently helping to sort some of the returned books when you heard a small crash, you were used to these by now so you had to try and contain the smile on your face at the knowledge you would be seeing a certain marauder soon

“Y/n dear would you mind escorting Mr Black out? I need to help a young lad that’s stuck on a table with four of those stupid bite-y books…I swear you would think they would make a better book for that by now but what would I know? I’m only a librarian” she looks annoyed but her tone is filled with amusement

Despite most thinking she was harsh she was actually one of the sweetest people you had met, kind of reminded you of a younger McGonagall. You also knew she secretly enjoyed the pranks, she’d never admit it but she did

You nodded “Sure” you answer happily but deep down your stomach filled with butterflies, you had never spoken to Sirius properly so you only prayed you wouldn’t be too shy to speak at all

You heard a small groan as you rounded the corner, greeted with the sight of Sirius fiddling with a bookshelf while another had fallen behind him.

Your small giggle gained his attention, face morphing from slight alarm to his usual smirk, leaning into the bookshelf as he spoke “Hi there, cutie” he winks at you

Your comedically blown eyes make his smirk morph into something softer, amusement definitely but you dared say admiration too

“Hi” you squeak out

“So" he wiggles his eyebrows "What do I owe this honour mini librarian” he says eyes trailing up and down your figure

You felt heat on your cheeks “I’ve to escort you out” you inform him, tone so soft it makes the boy's heart melt

Outside though he's still his cocky self “Are you now?” he challenges you lightly

“mhm” you hum nodding, unable to meet his eyes for too long but you do notice he hasn’t removed his hand from the bookshelves “Are you alright?” you eye his hand

He chuckles “Concerned about little old me?” he teases gesturing for you to come closer and you do “Well my cute little bookworm…” merlin he was going to make you combust “…my arm is a little bit stuck” he confesses pulling at it "Okay more than a little stuck"

You giggle as you see his arm is trapped, tangled in the lace that helps you tag books “Would you…” you look up at him, breath hitching as you are quite close, merely a small step between you both “…would you like some help?” you offer

He his lips quirk up “How can I say no to a pretty girl like yourself” he flatters

Yep he was going to kill you, especially as he continued to make conversation whilst you gently unravel the mess he’s in

“Are you not wondering what I was trying to do?” he asks, eyes tracing your face

Your eyes remain fixed on the matter at hand…well the matter of his hand “What were you trying to do?” you ask quietly

He smiles “Well cutie, I was attempting to get take these little lacey things and tie them to the ceiling beams but while I was climbing the bookshelf sort of...fell, but me being the agile…dog...” you giggle at him, unsure of why he needed to clarify “...that I am, I hopped to this one and well got stuck on the way down” he chuckles at himself

You shake your head a little but smile, loving the sound of his laugh up close

“Think these were out for vengeance over they’re fallen brethren” he jokes

You let out a small snort of a laugh, covering your mouth “Bold of you to assume the books are men” you say with a lace of cheek that the boy is just enamoured by

“My apologies…to which books should I make my apologises too” he leans closer and you can feel his breath tickling your neck

You know he can sense how flustered you are by the way you struggle with the last ribbon

“Let me” he says moving behind you and slithering his arm around to ‘help’ but really his back is against yours, head resting on your shoulder as he finishes freeing himself

As it untangles you make the mistake of turning around, nose practically touching his, a small squeak escaping your lips, eyes wide

“You’re so adorable it hurts” he says smiling, crunching up his nose at you

You’re almost a part of the bookshelves at this point by how hard your pushing yourself into it

“Mr Black please stop flirting with my assistant” the librarians voice comes from down the way

Sirius turns to her, removing himself and freeing you, but you stay put too worked up to move just yet

“Jealous darling” he smirks at her

She rolls her eyes “Sirius, I can tolerate you destroying my library at every opportunity but I will not tolerate you playing with her feelings. She is too sweet and pure for you to trifle with” she warns, it’s light hearted but she has a look that says 'you hurt her and I will destroy you more than you destroy my library'

The women then flicks her wand, the shelves returning to normal while Sirius gives her a nod and nervous smile, eyes flicking to you

“Y/n please escort Sirius out properly this time dear” and with that she walks away

You snap out of your daze to see Sirius looking at you, you did hear what she said and now you felt so embarrassed

“I wasn’t lying” he says after a few seconds “You really are so cute it hurts, why do you think I come in here so often” he confesses and for the first time you see the Sirus Black nervous

“Why do you?”

He looks around the shelves “I do like pissing her off but that’s more of a bonus at this point” he admits “I do it is so for around 1 to 5 seconds I get to see your smile, have your focus on me solely for those few seconds and it makes my heart umm…it makes me happier than anything else” he smiles as he speaks, eyes locking with yours as he says the last part

You look at him in shock, a happy shock but shock none the less “Really…me?” you confirm

He looks at you in a mild disbelief as he takes your hands “Yes you” he smiles "Brilliant beauiful mini librarian" he chuckles and you join him

“When do you finish?” he asks

“Around 3” you say quielt, heart readying itself to jump that he may be asking you out

“Let me take you to Hogsmeade, let me prove to you that I’m more than just a silly flirt” he smiles hopefully at you

Okay your heart didn't just jump it brust out of your chest and was running away for the hills

You find yourself nodding, unable to speak 

“Great” he looks overjoyed “I can see myself out don’t worry your pretty little head” he says lifting your hand delicately and planting a soft kiss to it "I'll see you then"

He starts walking away when you gain a little bit of courage “Sirius” you call out

“Yeah?” he turns back

“Those 1 to 5 seconds” you start and his eyes light up “They’re one of the reasons I take as many shifts as I can here”

He breaks out in the biggest smile “I’ll meet you outside at 3 cutie” he throws you a wink and a small wave before walking away

“See you then” you say to yourself falling against the bookshelf letting out a little squeal as you do a little dance, meanwhile a certain librarian whispers ‘finally’ to herself, smiling away

Thank you for reading 💛

#sirius and reader #sirius black and reader #sirius black and you #sirius x y/n #sirius black #sirius x reader #siriusblack #marauders era #marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n

[bambinotattoo]

Hey everyone, I hoper you have a great day today. Treat yourself and each other great today.

So this past weekend I wasn’t feeling that well, not well at all. Which Is kinda rare honestly, either way. Over the last few weeks/days I have been noticing myself experiencing episodes of light headedness and even passed out a time or two. Which is effin scary cause I live along ( future Mommy, now is the perfect opportunity to tell me it’s okay, your here to take care of me!! “A boy can dream”.

So as you can imagine passing out and falling down can be pretty dangerous, actually crashed into my bedside table on Saturday and broke it into PIECES. CHIPPED A BONE IN MY HAND TOO. I’m not a big fan of hospitals and all of that, but thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to go and just make sure things are okay. Being a full time diapered baby, sometimes it can be tricky. I generated speaking will only go if I have a friend or sitter to kind of help be a buffer. Just in case I say something dumb, or someone gets suspicious. I will also usually change into a “Normal” diaper and avoid wearing anything to “babyish”. Just easier that way.

Well, lol, this weekend I was feeling so gnarly that decided they can think what they want…I am coming comfortable and as myself. I was wearing a pink Princess with a booster, a bright blue onesie and some pastel blue full zip and baby patterned pair of footed Jammie’s. Fuck it, right. Lol. As well, the only diaper bag I had packed was my pink clear acrylic see through backpack style one. To put it lightly, it was Halloween in my bubble and boy did I get the stares and looks. I just put my paci in and ignored them. Thankfully the waiting room was fast and I was taken back with in 15-20 minutes

By the time I was escorted back, I had filled my diaper almost to the point of leaking. Hell I was sure the front desk girl could hear me release embarrassed pee pee streams the whole time we checked in. Which always happens. A great way to know if your really got me flustered is immediate bladder evacuation, followed my a beat red face and a goofy smile. The nurse that brought me to my room was trying to mind her own business and just get on with things, but offered to help get me into a gown since there were s many snaps on the Jammie’s. She then discovered the onesie, which of course had been leaked on showing I was blatantly a helpless little pissy pants. I ended up just standing there silent, looking scared to death I’m sure, while this attractive woman near my age stripped me of my baby clothes exposing just my saggy, stinky, diaper. And a pink baby one at that. She looked up at me with a little distaste and I started wimpering. She quickly began to console me and wrapped me in the gown and had me sit down.

“I know it’s none of my business, but that diaper is pretty wet isn’t it”

“Um, y…ye…yea”. As I started getting more upset.

“Hey little guy, it’s okay, it’s okay. Is that your diaper bag over there”

“Um, yes. Yes it is.”

“Okay, here in a lilts while when I get a few seconds would you mind if I changed you?”

This wasn’t the first times something like this happened, it pretty common. Just never had I come to a medical situation with this much ABDL swag before. She just smiled and told me to try and calm down and things would be just fine. She exited the room and I was left alone awaiting the doctor and etc

The first doctor came and went, nothing to crazy, but wanted me to consider seeing a Urologist while there. I sure maybe, but knew it was a no.

Several minutes later and the fist nurse came back in and closed the curtains behind her.

“Okay little guy, let’s get you more comfortable…huh?”

I just nodded and signaled for my diaper bag. I pulled out a Tykeables, my wipes, powder, and desitin as I had been nursing a rash for a few days. She giggled at the powder and ointment and said I need to make sure and change more often to ovoid that. I told her I know, and joked about needing a full time caregiver to make sure.

She actually popped my paci in, gave me a smile and told me to relax, and everything will be done quickly. I couldn’t tell her that I loved being changed without sounding like a creep so I just smirked, laid back, and started rhythmicly sucking my pink pacifier. She got the VERY wet diaper untapped and began to wipe me down with the SUPER cold wipes (I’m used to my wipe warmer). Right as she was going to slide the new diaper unde me and as she was saying

“Okay, life your butt”

There was suddenly commotion near the screen that separated my spread eagle bottom with a diaper being slide under, and anyone walking past and or etc. she immediately shouted

“Hey, hey…I’m busy in here…DO NOT COME IT. Private private stop”

And guess what, they did not stop. To my horror and here annoyance the doctor from earlier and THREE resident doctors started piling in. He saw what was going on and didn’t care at all. I am laying there, more red faced than I had even been while getting a change while the doctors just hung out waiting for her to finish. I tried closing my eyes to block out the more than uncomfortable situation, right up until when the doctor said

“So, why are your wearing diapers that look like that? Aren’t those the like fetish ones people wear?

The doctors and nurse changing me all tried not to laugh.

I wasn’t able to communicate that well through the fog of humiliation but did manage something to the effect of…

“I don’t like it when they leak. These kinds are thicker and make me feel more secure.”

The doctor made his snide remarks the nurse finished up and I was dry, and covered again. After a battery of tests the doctor wasn’t concerned about my passing out and all that, but did want to keep me for 24 hours for observation. I argued and pleaded to not be held over, but the decision had already been made and there was already a bed on the 8th floor being prepared. The nurse that changed me went out above and beyond and explained that she was talk to the nurses station where I’m going and let them know of my special needs, that way there wouldn’t be any confusion. I asked if I could have a friend bring some some supplies because I only had 1 more diaper in my bag and my onesie wasn’t the cleanest. I did, and my friend Ashley who babysat a occasionally was giving to drop by later with a care package.

After getting up to my room I began calming down and accepting the situation I was going to make the best of it. Around that time a nurse I hadn’t met yet comes in knocking and wanted to introduce herself and figure out all the details and etc.

“H there, Eric? Yes hello, my name is Nora and I willl be your nurse tonight and until 6am or so. I hear your an extra special little one, yea? Lol.

I really didn’t know what to say or what she expected me to say, but I just smiled blushingly and nodded my head.

“You really are a shy one, they were kidding. Lol. Okay, so, this is a hospital, I am a nurse, and diapers and changes are absolutely normal and nothing weird! I hear you like the babyish ones and even the cute toddler clothes too”.

Still blushing, she just smiled and started coming near me.

“Well, let’s just see what we have going on, shall we? I will be checking you everytime I’m in the room. So just be prepared for it. Are you used to that or are diapers a new thing”

What ya think, y’all want the rest?

#ab dl lifestyle #24/7 diapers #ab/dl diaper #diaper bulge #diaper dependent #diaper sissy #diapering #incontinence #bed wetting #nurse

[poisoned-pearls]

sims building got me thinking abt my twst fankids so NAMI CONTENT TIMEEE

(also, for clarity, dada refers to Azul, baba refers to Jamil, and dad/father refers to either of them)

Nami always had many homes. Her dada’s apartment in the middle of the city, her baba’s constantly changing locations, (often a much smaller apartment)

but her favorite as a child was the countryside. She remembers the story of why her father bought it in the first place. Her uncle, Jade, lived in the property next door, and immediately alerted azul the moment it went up on sale. Primarily because he wanted access to the properties sprawling hillside and creek access, a treasure trove for the mushrooms he favored so much.

nevertheless. Her father bought it. Something about a business opportunity. She doesn’t remember the details. She does remember the first time she saw it, however.

her baba had suprised her at school, picking her up days earlier than he was supposed to be back. Her father always had done this, traveling far and wide for a month or two at a time, before returning home for the same amount of time. She’d go with him sometimes too, seeing over twenty different cities and countries by the time she was 6. She doesn’t remember most of it, sure, but the photos prove she’s been.

the car ride had been considerably longer than usual. He told her about how ‘her father had made an impulsive purchase’ and how they were going to check it out. When she’d asked why, he’d simply responded with “Because your father is an idiot.” (He often did that. Referred to his husband as “her father” whenever he did something he deemed unintelligent. Like she was the one who picked him out and not he.)

And oh. It was love at first sight. The house was overgrown with ivy and flowers she couldn’t name, unruly rose bushes grown far too big to be reasonable, and utterly gorgeous. She loved it.

She dragged her father by his hand inside, who found it rather humorous that a eight year old was utterly enchanted by a rather old, slightly decrepit house.

then she saw it.

the study.

Walls to walls of large bookshelves, left full by the previous owners. The curtains were large and heavy, covering a fancy window that looked right out into the once manicured backyard.

Once Jamil saw how much she had fallen in love with the building, he called off any of the plans Azul had for it.

It became a summerhouse, of sorts. The ocean was a mile behind the property, and with only some slightly underhanded techniques, Azul and Jade gained access to a backroad that could take them there.

She’d stay in that study for hours, reading every book she could dig up. History, Dramas, classics, math, philosophy- it didn’t matter. She’d read what she’d could and make her fathers read what she couldn’t. She’d take her language lessons there, draw, play, hide.

She loved it. To her, that cottage was her house, her home.

#Nami Ashengrotto #Twst oc #Jamiazu #Azul promised Jamil that they would never want for everything and meant It #Nami is very spoiled. Constantly spoiled. That’s his baby. #But also like that’s Jamil’s baby and will be making sure it has the best life #Nami def caught a wild rabbit there at least once. #Girl is a trained escape artist #She’d RULE out in a forest

[ktelova]

It's Too Late, I Don't Love You Anymore

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None? Let me know if I need to add something!

Summary: Maybe that's all you were ever meant to be to each other, a sunrise. A light to pull the other out of the darkness.

Word count: 1,523

A/N: I had to take a couple breaks because I couldn't write through my tears. This is also the first fic I've written in a few years!

I do NOT give anyone permission to repost or translate any of my works on any platform.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

You weren’t entirely sure when exactly it had stopped. When she had stopped.

When she stopped leaving you post-it notes on the fridge, before she left for work, telling you how much she loved you and hated being away from you. Making sure you knew just how much she cherished you and wanted to spend every waking moment next to you.

When she didn’t call you on her breaks just to hear your voice. She still called but they were so few and far between, she didn’t seem as happy to hear your cheery voice on the other end. 

When her fingers no longer lingered upon your skin when she handed you the remote, her hands didn’t brush against your arms in the way that sent butterflies swirling through your stomach when she helped you put on your jacket.

She was pulling away, slowly, maybe she thought it would hurt you less if it was slower. Maybe she thought if she still gave you small gestures here and there, you wouldn’t mind because you were still together, right? She hoped she could salvage whatever was left of this love, but she just didn’t feel that way anymore.

It was a secret written within the walls of your apartment, they knew how she wished she could love you like she did when she first saw you, how every single time you so much as glanced in her direction, her breath hitched and her knees felt weak. How she was so easily whipped for you, it was just so easy to love you.

The walls could see it though, they certainly felt it, when you no longer playfully whined as Kate wrapped her arms around your body, pulling you closer as the morning sun peered through the cracks in the curtain. When she started picking up extra shifts and starting coming home late. She wanted something different now, she wasn’t entirely sure what it was but she knew it wasn’t you.

But the walls of your apartment knew your secrets as well. They knew how you cried yourself to sleep at night when Kate was still at work, how your tears seeped through the thin sheet of your pillow case, staining the fabric of the pillow itself. They knew how you never felt good enough, that you were bursting at the seams. That when you saw Kate, your heart clenched, not in the way it used to, not with happiness and ecstasy, but instead with sadness and desperation.

Kate always showed you affection, it didn’t matter where, she loved you loudly and she loved you proudly. It was becoming clear that she didn’t quite love you like she used to and if you thought about it, maybe you didn’t love her like that either anymore. 

When Kate got home that evening, you were sitting on the sofa, head in your hands, peering at the floor through the cracks among almost closed fingers.

She had kicked off her shoes and placed them neatly by the door, a little startled to see you still awake after midnight, more so that you were waiting for her. She knew you were usually asleep by the time she got home, even on your days off you often went to sleep at the same time. You’d cook dinner and leave her plate in the fridge, she’d eat alone at the table before coming to bed, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before she slipped in behind you, in which you’d simply scrunch up your nose. She always found that charming, your stirring at the little affectionate gestures in the night. She adored that you subconsciously showed your appreciation for her, like loving her was simply stitched into your brain, in your soul.

When she looked over at you, she knew you knew. She figured your naivety was just a front and you were just as scared as she was. She entered further into the living room, you didn’t seem to notice her enter the apartment, too encased in your thoughts to focus on your surroundings, she supposed. You always did think too much, always at war with yourself. 

She cleared her throat, making her presence known. When you didn’t look up at her, she spoke softly, “I thought you’d already be asleep by the time I got home.” Her words barely rung in your ears, you slowly brought your hands away from your face, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You looked up at her, careful and hoped for her to continue. You didn’t know what to say and even if you had, you were sure your voice would betray you, showing just how fragile you were.

She walked over to the couch and sat down, leaving a bit of space between the two of you. “You feel it too, don’t you? That’s why you’re out here, waiting for me, isn’t it?” Her voice was overflowing with sadness and a little bit of longing. The question hung in the air for what felt like an eternity before you replied.

“I always thought it was going to be you, I really wanted it to be you.” your voice wavered towards the end as you choked back a sob. You knew as well as she did that there was very little left to hold on to.

“I know, I did too.” her voice was soft as she looked over at you. “At the start, we didn’t need any reasons to fall in love, we just did.” she smiled sadly and took your hand in hers. She begun tracing the lines on your palm, it was a soothing gesture for the both of you.

“Now it feels like everything is about reasons.” she continued. Your heart was slowly chipping at each word she spoke, and each word she didn’t. Just being next to her after these past few weeks made you feel like your heart was being torn apart at the seams.

You knew it was over but a part of you, the stupidest damn part of you hoped you could still mend things, that maybe you could learn to fall in love with each other again. You desperately hoped that your story wouldn’t end this way. 

“We both want different things now. We have for a while actually, but I guess by not saying it we thought we were protecting each other, trying to save something that isn’t there anymore.” you said, a lingering sadness in your words. “Some things just aren’t meant to be, no matter how much you wish they were, sometimes stories don’t have a happy ending.”

Kate looked at you and smiled, it was small and didn’t reach her eyes, you’d realized she’d been smiling like that a lot lately. Nothing was the same, neither one of you were happy and you both kept waiting for the other to say it, too afraid to break each other's hearts.

You both decided it was best to go your separate ways, it broke you to say goodbye to her, to everything you shared together but it was over, you had to let go.

You got up off the couch, leaving Kate with her thoughts, she rested her head in her hands and you took one last glance at her before you entered the bedroom you two once shared to pack up your belongings. She looked like her heart had been ripped out and stepped on.

You later emerged from the bedroom, bags in hand. Kate was still sitting on the sofa, exactly how you’d left her. She was having a war within her head and her heart, she wanted to let you go, she knew that’s what you both needed but now that it was happening, she wasn’t so sure. She wanted a do over, she needed the universe to give her a second chance with you.

“I wish you the best, Kate. I’m still rooting for you, always.” you hoped she heard you as you turned towards the door. You reached for the handle and as you did, you felt Kate grab your hand and turn you to look at her, she had tears in her eyes. 

She looked desperate, almost pleading with you to stay as she spoke softly, voice wavering at the edges, “I hope you know that in my heart I never meant to hurt you.” She rested her hands on either side of your face and placed a gentle kiss upon your forehead.

A stray tear fell down your cheek and landed within the palm of her hand, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t still love her, that you didn’t want to fall back into her arms and start over.

But, you couldn’t. She will always feel a little bit like home to you, no matter how temporary. Maybe you were only meant to be a sunrise for each other, a light to pull the other out of the darkness.

And so, when you left that apartment for the last time, a part of you stayed there. A little bit of you will always live within those walls.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop fic #kate bishop angst #marvel imagine #xav writes

[reeverfan]

An Underrated BL Masterpiece: Painter Behind The Curtain

So, I was getting bored with Painter of the Night recently, and decided to look for manhwas that are similar to it, or at least something that have the same vibe as Painter of the Night.

And boy, did I not expect to stumble upon this masterpiece.

Now, I didn’t really intend on finishing this manhwa entirely at first, I just wanted a good smut to read. I honestly was only in it for the sexy panels--- INSTEAD, I got lots of feels. It’s been a very long time since I’ve felt this so much feels after reading a BL. This manhwa had the right amount of smut, plot, and romance incorporated in it. And I am proud to say that this is the yaoi that made me stay for the PLOT.

And no, don’t worry because this is not going to be like one of those typical yaois/BLs where the seme constantly rapes their partner then gaslight them afterwards. Although I admit that the relationship of Ian and Raymond (the main couple) is not that perfect.  

Raymond (seme) was a bit red-flaggish on the first parts, because his character is meant to be manipulative, possessive, and vengeful. He is the type who uses other people for his personal gain. Throughout the story, we get to see him often engaging in intimate relationships with multiple women--- particularly those who belong to noble families. Despite Raymond’s status as a commoner, and his negative reputation as a loanshark, he is still able to make other women fall for him because of his charming looks and attitude. Ian on the other hand, is a young naive and meek lad who deeply falls for Raymond for the same reasons as how those women fell for him. Ian fell helplessly in love with him because of the kind treatment Raymond showed him, which is understandable considering that he had been constantly abused physically by his father and sexually by Bardi. Unbeknownst to the young painter, Raymond only took him in his home because he believed that Ian’s talents would ultimately benefit him and his goal in gaining power in order to retaliate against his enemy--- Rothsildt (a count). The start of their relationship is somewhat resonant with the Painter of the Night (young poor painter brought in to serve before a powerful figure) but later developed into a wholesome love story.

This is only among the yaois that are genuinely romantic. Raymond has the most impressive character development I’ve ever seen. He went from an opportunistic vengeful loan shark to a wholesome romantic lover. Although he was clouded by his motives, he had always been a gentleman from the start. Whenever he and Ian got intimate, he always asks the latter's consent and whether he takes pleasure in their love making. I also admire how straightforward he was with his feelings, such as when Nicholas (Ian’s apprentice) confronts him about his relationship with Ian, Raymond basically was like: “Yeah, you can call it whatever you want to call it (referring to his feelings), but this is how I feel for him. I don’t care whether you think it's genuine or not. I feel what I feel for him.” I truly admire how the author strayed from this repetitive yaoi cliche wherein either the uke or the seme questions their feelings for their love interest. It brings me so much joy that, considering the time period of the story, Raymond was never in denial of having those certain feelings for Ian. Despite that they were both males, Raymond was bold to admit that he is, in fact, in love with Ian. It was really refreshing to see a yaoi where the seme doesn't constantly try to mask his affection as a resort and be open with it.

That's all I can say about this manhwa. I never expected to binge it all at once. Underrated but gold and memorable.

#Painter Behind The Curtain Raymond Ian Ian Sconel Raymond Aiden BL #ian sconel #raymond aiden #spoilers #painter behind the curtain #reaction #review #manhwa #bl comic #painter #yaoi bl

[major-fukkup]

I feel the need to request elaboration on your demon sighting, if you’re comfortable with that 👀

Absolutely!!!

So, I see him a lot actually, he just hangs around, kinda just follows me everywhere I go but he keeps his distance for the most part. He's a shadow figure that often takes a human shape but I've also seen him as a cat several times and once as a dog and as a like I don't know how to describe it but he's big and shadowy and he has glowy eyes and he likes to say my name a lot and make weird noises.

I've been seeing him ever since I was a child and I guess I can't be too sure that he is a demon because he has never tried to hurt me, though my roommates and I did have a lot of weird stuff going on last year like electrical cords getting severed and my Gatorade being replaced with pinesol with the bottle somehow still sealed (the color was off and it smelled funny when I opened it so I did not drink it dw).

And when I lived by myself I used to go out on the back porch when I was feeling suicidal, to get some fresh air and hopefully a fresh take on life, and one particularly bad day I went out there to cry and figure out what to do and after a minute I opened my eyes and there was just a random rusty razor blade on the step that wasn't there before.

The sightings I could attribute to hallucinations brought on by sleep deprivation or schizophrenia, but not the other incidents.

Plus my dog saw him one night too. I was alone (same apartment I had previously lived alone in, only at this time I had roommates) in an upstairs bedroom with the light off and a shadow figure passed in front of the light that was shining in from a yard light out the window behind me, and my dog immediately perked up on the foot of the bed and stared at it but it was gone.

Then I heard my front door open, followed by footsteps on the stairs and a voice calling my roommate's name (I'll call him B). I just assumed my other roommate (D) had gotten home because he'd gone to the gas station for energy drinks not long before. B didn't answer (he was asleep and this was around 6 AM) and I was still lying on my bed unable to move or talk and then my bedroom door opened, a figure walked in, went around to the other side of my bed and started doing something with my stuff but I couldn't see what.

Again I just assumed it was D (it wasn't uncommon for him to borrow my stuff without permission but we won't go into that lol), until I heard the front door open AGAIN and I could move again so I went down to look and it was actually him that time.

The rest of the sightings are just like, he'll just be standing somewhere and I'll see him and just be like "hi" 'cause he's not doing anything. He did that to me the other night actually, standing in front of my curtain when I was trying to sleep, but I was in the process of having a breakdown over completely unrelated things so I just said "I'm really not in the mood for this right now" and he left.

#thank you for the ask! #demon sighting #real shit #suicide mention #I'm sorry if this is not written well I added so many details to each paragraph after writing them

[deathmaiidens]

@matchingmagi ❧ “ So, I’ve come to you hoping you might understand what it’s like. ” (Victor and Emily to Victoria and Lily)

Her beloved's words should have burned Victoria, tore a hole through her heart like acid spreading to obliterate it all together, and yet...

Ever since they were children, she'd been right at their side; Victoria clutching one hand and Victor the other. Emily Hargreaves had been her very first real friend (much to her parents' chagrin) and she'd introduced her to the love of her life. She'd shown her -- and him -- that there was so much more to the world than the grey and gloom of Blackwood, that on the other side of the forest, there was color and light and hope.

Out of the blue, she'd come back like Persephone from the Underworld, and out of the blue, she realized just how much she meant to her and her husband. In the days Emily had stayed with them, they were like children again at her side, so alive and so thoroughly enchanted by her. Even their daughter adored her and came to see her as something of a third parent (which was unsurprising, seeing as little Lily had somehow taken so much after her in her exuberance and open-heartedness). And Victor....She'd be jealous of the woman's bond with her husband if she wasn't jealous of him, too.

Was it really possible -- to be in love with two people at the same time? The thought was ludicrous, but one that kept her up at night when she closed her eyes and saw her with her hair flowing over her bare shoulders, heard her soft laughter, felt the gentle brush of her fingertips against her long lashes as she wiped a tear from that lovely face. Victoria wasn't sure if it was better or worse that she still loved Victor more than anything, that she often thought of him at their side. It was clear how much Emily adored him, too, and he her when they sat at the piano and played their duets. At times, she wished was on either side and at others, she could have listened to their songs and looked into the gentlest pairs of eyes she knew forever.

Now, they all had to confront their feelings for one another, the tangled spiderweb of their love and all it entailed. Nothing would have made her romantic heart happier than to have both of them with her always, but she was also practical. How could they make it work? What would they tell people, especially their parents? Would they be safe from the ever-scrutinizing eye of their society? Would Lily?

"I understand," Victoria said finally. "Truly, more than either of you could imagine, but..." She paused, her sad and longing smile sobering as she opened her mouth to speak. Suddenly, she was interrupted by an 'oof!' coming from behind the heavy velvet curtains in the parlor and a small fall to the ground.

"Lily!" Victoria exclaimed, putting a hand over her mouth and going to help her daughter up with great care. Victoria's demeanor turned stern very quickly, however, as it was wont to do when Lily was up to her usual mischief. "You've been eavesdropping, haven't you?"

"I--" Lily stopped, unsure of what to say and gritting her teeth together guiltily. "I'm a ghost." She stepped back behind the curtain and put it over her head, waving her arms about. She'd hoped to make her mother laugh with this little deflection (and she did; Victoria couldn't help herself), but not for very long.

"Sweetheart, we've talked about this." Victoria's palm went to her forehead exasperatedly. "I'm having a very serious discussion with your father and our friend and--"

"Please, please don't send Emily away!" Lily burst out quite unexpectedly.

"Heavens, no one is being sent away!" Victoria turned, horrified eyes meeting Emily's for a moment before facing her daughter. "No one is being sent away," she murmurs to her assuringly. "We just need time to settle things between us. You understand, don't you?" She knelt to caress her little girl's cheek.

Lily paused for a moment thoughtfully, an almost too-grown up worry in her too-wide cornflower blue eyes, before taking her mother's hand in hers and nodding. "Yes, Mamma, I do."

It almost brought tears to the woman's eyes to see her this way, clinging to her and then going over to the others, her father and their beautiful friend, to wrap her arms around them as if she might never see them again.

"I love you...all of you," Lily said softly before turning to leave the parlor.

#matchingmagi #caught in a tide (victoria ❧ thread) #lilies for sweetness (lily ❧ thread) #this is a novel but #i have #mariah carey - emotions.mp3