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yuwuta · 5 months

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AFTERGLOW. — JJK BOYS + JEALOUSY

❝tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine, even when i've lost my mind

featuring. gojo, inumaki, nanami, okkotsu

content. a character study in jealousy, no content warnings, no smut in this version, fem reader

word count. 2.8k

SATORU GOJO You’re attempting to finish getting ready for the evening and Satoru has taken his favorite activity: filing through every crevice of your room like he’d been hired as a private investigator. Even though he knows that you know that he’s nothing more than a nosy idiot, Satoru claims that it’s an important and intimate routine that he should know the ins and outs of your living space just as well as you know his—“You know exactly where I keep my boxers, and I don’t even think I’ve seen the inside of your closet—oh, hey, this is cute,” he grins, sticking out his impossibly long arm to shake a thin, lacy bodysuit on a hanger, “How come you’ve never shown me this, huh? Maybe you should wear this instead, it seems easier to take—ouch.”

He groans at the impact of your hairbrush against his shoulder, then swiftly proceeds to pout and whine about how mean you are to him when you return to ignoring him in favor of applying the final touches to your makeup. Your closet seems to be of little interest to him after that, as Satoru crosses the room to hover around you at your vanity instead. He leans in too closely, as if watching you apply bronzer was a novel sight to him. You flip your brush quickly, barely tapping at his nose and laughing at his scrunched reaction.

“Your reflexes aren’t so sharp today,” you tease. You’re prepared for a witty response, and when you glance, there’s a familiar mischief shimmering in your boyfriend’s eyes; but, then his gaze ventures slightly past you, and all signs of playfulness drain from his face. Instead of getting revenge, or annoying you further, Satoru reaches over your body and into a shallow jewelry dish to pick up the bracelet he’d spotted. It’s a dainty little thing, thin gold with a small heart in the middle glittering with shiny stones, that he threads along his fingers with scrutiny before standing up straight to dangle it in front his face for further inspection, “This is new to me.”

Perhaps you’d spoken too soon, because only Satoru would spot that one piece of jewelry amongst the others swimming the tray. His eyes flutter between the bracelet and you, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head, and the accusation he won’t say outloud—did you buy yourself heart-shaped jewelry, or is there something else going on here?

You sigh and keep your expression and voice neutral, your attention seemingly still focused on the finishing touches of your makeup, “It’s new to you because I haven’t worn it in years,” you tell him, “My ex gave it to me.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you occupy yourself with your mascara, before Satoru speaks, “That makes sense, it doesn’t look all that promising. What is it—barely gold plated?” he taunts, sweeping away his air of concern with one of mockery, standing up straight to twirl the bracelet around his index finger, “Figures your ex boy toy had no taste for the finer things in life. You’re worth more than this, my darling.”

You shake your head with light laughter, patting in the remnants of your setting spray before standing. Satoru continues on, rambling about the poor construction of your commercially produced bracelet—holds it between his index finger and thumb like it’ll poison him if he exposes it to too much of his skin, and you can’t help but smile as you reach for the lapel of his blazer to pull him down for a kiss. He has no words of objection to this, pulling you in by the waist for another and another and another, before you finally pull away, “Come, let’s go. I don’t feel like getting lectured by Utahime for your tardiness again.”

You’re too preoccupied for the rest of the evening to notice the item missing from your jewelry dish. What you do notice, two afternoons later, shortly after Satoru has left to pick up Nanami from the airport, is a blue velvet box with your name written in pretty, gold cursive along the top—and inside, a gold tennis bracelet, glittering with diamonds, with a necklace to match. You have no doubt they’re legitimate, if not for the way the sparkle, then by the text that rings through on your phone after you question Satoru:

from: satoruwu 🫧🩵 — only the best for my baby <33

TOGE INUMAKI

Toge knows that the price of coffee has gotten way out of hand, but what bothers him more is the decreasing pace of said coffee getting made and the increase of crazy, caffeine addicted people who feel the need to be loud around him while he’s waiting for his drinks. You, however, seem to take pleasure in his suffering, as you always thank him and coo, saying he looks cute despite his grumbly demeanor, “You always look like you fought a war for two cups of coffee, Toge.”

He rolls his eyes as he steps into your apartment, not minding the sound of your giggling behind him. He sets the drinks on your island, and pulls out a stool to sit on. You round the marble, reaching him just as he’s pulled down his mask for a thank you kiss to his cheek. He wants to make you suffer for longer, but when you lean against him, he can’t help but to return the hug and kiss your forehead—you’re welcome, always.

Still, he pokes at your head, waits until you dig your head out of his shoulder with curious eyes, before he points to the Keurig sitting in the corner of one the wall-mounted counters, and moves his hands to sign, “Why keep that if you spend all my money on coffee?”

“Rude. I offer to pay all the time,” you chide, poking at his collar bone and standing straight. You make your way back to the opposite side of the counter, and reach to a drawer to fetch a straw, before shrugging, “My ex left it here when we broke up. I keep it for the aesthetic—I’m not even sure if it works.”

A myriad of thoughts runs through Toge’s mind—most importantly: had your ex left other things here, and how quickly could he get rid of them?

“Besides,” you break his murderous train of thought, “None of the pods make good espresso. Couldn’t even make my hot girl latte if it worked.”

“Your ‘hot girl latte’ is iced,” Toge signs.

Under normal circumstances, a comment like that would earn him a flick to the forehead, but you can tell that behind the sarcasm, Toge is actually upset. So, in lieu of teasing him, you walk back over to him; settling yourself behind his stool to give him a back hug. You lean your cheek against his shoulder and press a small kiss there, “You’re cute.”

Toge huffs, shaking his shoulders for dramatic effect. You laugh, leaning up to give him another kiss on the cheek. “You’re cute and you have nothing to worry about. It’s an old coffee machine.”

He hums, taking another sip of his coffee before turning, barely bumping the top of your forehead, so you can see his raised eyebrow. You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, “You’re cute, and you have nothing to worry about, and I love you.”

He finally smiles again, content, and grants you another kiss to your forehead. With his mood back to normal, the two of you finish your coffee and carry on with your scheduled study session as normal (normal being Toge leaving you alone for all of twenty-seven minutes, before he starts taking videos of you with various outrages Snapchat filters on).

However, the following day when you return from your classes, there’s four new items on your kitchen counter: a silver espresso machine, a reusable Starbucks cup (already filled with your usual drink), a neatly folded apron decorated with cartoon Shiba Inus, and a small card with Toge’s bubbly handwriting on it: “Don’t worry, I’ll still pay for you $6 pink drinks, but if you wanted to thank me by making coffee in just the apron, then I wouldn’t complain ;)”

KENTO NANAMI Kento is a rational man; he favors using logic to carry out decisive actions, rather than letting his emotions get the best of him. So, the rational part of him knows that it’s not a big deal that the lunch bag and bento-style tupperware you bring to work was a gift from your ex-girlfriend; but there’s a small, ugly, green part of him overrun with jealousy and another bitter-tasting feeling he can’t quite name.

Because it’s not that important. It makes sense that you keep using them—the lunch bag is nice, leather, sleek, and insulated, and the tupperware is sturdy and functional. The whole system is sustainable, practical. It was a good present, one that objectively serves a good purpose whether or not it was given by an ex or not.

Maybe that’s what he hates so much. That this person still has room in your life, even though you haven’t spoken to them since you’ve met him. Kento doesn’t like that reminder—that there are people out there who might be a good fit for you, a better one than him. Those ugly feelings aside, there’s a sour taste in his mouth when he packs your lunch now; knowing that the food he cooked for the two of you—the meal you’re both going to indulge in—sits in a container gifted to you by an ex-lover.

Irrational to the point of being unfocused, he doesn’t realize how close the glass is to the edge of the counter, and when he turns to scoop more rice, he accidentally knocks it over with his elbow. It breaks into tiny pieces on the ground, the small portion of rice and chicken spilling onto the ground. The sound draws you out of your bedroom, mascara wand in hand and robe still on to call for him, “Kento? Everything okay?”

“I… it was an accident,” he explains, setting the spoon down in favor of reaching for a napkin, dropping to his knee with a light sigh, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break it.”

Your laughter surprises him, prompts him to look up at you with broken glass shards pooled in his palm, “You don’t have to worry so much! It happens, we have a million more.”

There’s something about the way you don’t seem to acknowledge it being special to you in any way—Kento’s not even sure if you recognize what broke—that reassures him. Because it really was an accident, but Kento doesn’t mind that he managed to break this particular plate.

When he shoos you back to getting dressed, he finishes picking up the broken glass shards. There’s a certain lightness to his actions now, petty as it may be, he’s happy. Spends extra time writing a note for you to see when you unpack your food before he retires to the bathroom to start getting ready himself.

Maybe he could do something about that lunchbox next. You don’t seem to mind.

YUUTA OKKOTSU Thursdays are Yuuta’s favorite day of the week because on Thursdays, you two meet up at your spot, which is really just a set of twin benches in the west quad, but it’s your place and Yuuta loves it. You will have reserved a study room in your favorite library, and Yuuta will buy snacks for your study session before you both head to the library in an attempt to finish up your work for the week in order to keep your Friday evenings free.

Yuuta usually gets to the bench before you, a combination of the engineering building being a little bit closer, and his legs being a lot longer. He doesn’t mind waiting for you, as it’s usually his first time seeing you in two days (your Tuesdays are too packed for anything other than a shared coffee break between lectures, and Wednesdays are his hell days), and spotting you through the crowd of dissipating students always brings a smile to his face.

You look cute today, an oversized sweater enveloping your frame that Yuuta can imagine you cozying into and nearly dozing off in your dreaded microbiology lecture. He laughs to himself at the mental image, just as you stop in front of him to ponder, “Something funny?”

Yuuta shakes his head, leaning down to kiss your forehead with a proper greeting. “Nothing,” he reassures you, reaching around to pull your backpack off of your shoulders, and slings it over one of his, “You look cute. Did you mean to buy a sweater big enough to double as a blanket?”

“The oversized look is in,” you scrunch your nose and roll your eyes, letting Yuuta take your hand in his despite his teasing, “I don’t even think I bought this, honestly. It might be Todo’s? Or Toge’s—it might even be Maki’s at this point.”

Yuuta freezes. He feels the world stop and a million different emotions surge through him at once, but the most prevalent of them all is something ugly and green. He could deal with Toge, though he doubts he’s the culprit. While you two shared a penchant for oversized clothing, Toge was more often than not the thief, rather than the lender, and he’s pretty good at keeping his collection of stolen goods under lock and key. Maki was out of the question, too, because you shared a class with Nobara earlier today, and there’s no way you’d have made it out of there wearing her girlfriend’s sweater.

So it probably was Todo’s. And Yuuta had said you looked cute. Though he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole, his moment of self-pity is waning, and overcast by something steely, something too-hot bubbling in his chest. The question of why you have it goes over his head—he’s not concerned with that, nor will he fault you for it—the matter at hand is that you’re wearing it. And, sure, Yuuta thought you looked good in it before, but he could name sixteen other things you’d look better in at this very moment.

You’ve gone on to ramble about something that happened earlier, but Yuuta’s not listening. He drops your hand first, then both of your backpacks on the bench behind him, before tapping at your wrists. You don’t seem to understand him, cocking your head to the side with a pensive expression, but Yuuta only taps at your wrists again with a simple command, “Up.”

It doesn’t seem like you understand, but you follow anyway, and Yuuta is pulling the sweater up and off of your body before you can question him. He tosses it onto the bench with little care, then removes his white jacket and places it atop your backpacks. “What are—” you don’t have time to finish before he’s pulled his own hoodie off his body, and slid it over your head.

Yuuta smooths out the fabric under his palms with a satisfied grin on his face. Much better.

“Aw, Yuuta!” you bring a hand to tug at the strings of the hood, a wicked smile replacing your dazed blinking, “I didn’t know you were so possessive.”

You tease him until he’s red up to his ears, embarrassed and borderline bashful, a complete 180 from the looming jealousy that took over him moments before as he shimmies on his jacket again and picks up your back backs. He huffs, as you tease him, circling an arm around his as you begin to walk to the student center. He doesn’t know if he agrees with your declarations of him being a possessive boyfriend, but he does know that he’s your boyfriend, and your boyfriend only.

“So, you think I look cute, still?” you question, picking up a pack of gummy worms. Yuuta lets out a breath of laughter, pressing another kiss to your forehead, “Even cuter than before.”

(Two days later, Todo can be found screaming wildly to Itadori when he comes across a familiar hoodie strewn across a random bench on campus—who considers visiting the Student Health Clinic to make sure an eardrum wasn’t ruptured—because, “Bro, what the hell? I swear I fucking lost this thing!”)

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gojonanami · 3 months

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❝ 𝐒𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘, 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 ! ❞

❝ HONESTLY, I CAN'T BELIEVE I GET TO CALL YOU MINE !! ❞

✧ pairing: professor! suguru geto x reader

✧ summary: it's your first valentine's day as a couple with suguru, but he's away for a conference in another city -- and you understand you do, but you can't help but miss him -- so what happens when he ends up surprising you?

✧ warnings: so fluffy!!, suggestive, mentions of nsfw, implications of smut, reader has graduated from her program, set after the events of the main series (including every part), these two idiots are so in love its ridiculous, lingerie mention, wearing his glasses and button down

✧ wc: 1,206

“I’m sorry I have to be away,” you smile at Suguru through the screen, knowing that you’d kiss his furrowed brow away if he was here, before finding his lips with yours. “This conference was last minute, I wish I didn’t have to go, but Yaga left me little choice but to go,”

You shake your head, “We can celebrate when you come back, it’s not a big deal anyway. Just means you have more to make up for on White Day,” you tease, and he laughs, a smile on his lips for the first time the entire call, “don’t worry ok? I’m really not upset,”

“I know, it’s just our first Valentines together and I know you had planned something for us. I really wanted it to be special,” his lips purse, arms crossed as he looks almost utterly hopeless (far too cute) and you can’t help but chuckle, “what?”

“Never thought my hardass professor could be such a romantic,” you smirk, as his cheeks are tinted with a lovely red, “should I be giving you a poor grade for your tardiness?”

He rolls his eyes, as his lips curl again in a smile that can’t seem to escape your presence, “Well, while I’ll definitely be making it up with some extra credit, I’d appreciate my favorite student to cut me a little slack,”

“I recall you cutting me very little slack that first day,”

“On the contrary, I think I was very kind, especially considering you were late to the very first class—“

“And what is this weekend?” You say in mock thought, “our first Valentine’s Day?” He huffs, and you smile in victory, “is this the first headache I’ve given you?”

“Today? Yes,” and you gape at him, and it’s his turn to smirk, “I love you,”

And your gaze grows soft, “I love you too, call me after the conference is done for today?”

“You know I will,” and you both share your goodbyes and you’re left by yourself, as you lay back on your bed, a pout on your lips. Suguru had offered to let you stay at his place, but you know it would have only made you miss him more — being surrounded by his things, his scent, his clothes. You sighed as you buried your face in your pillow, glancing at the picture the two of you had taken in Kyoto at one of the local shrines, almost taunting you.

He’d be back soon enough — right?

Sorry I haven’t been able to call again. It’s been a lot of late nights — too many networking dinners. I’ll call you tonight.

It has been two nights now, and it was Valentine’s Day tomorrow. You had barely gotten a minute to speak to Suguru since your call with him on Friday. You sighed, sending him a picture of you in his button up you stole, along with his spare glasses he had left at your place, can we have a networking meeting? I’ll send an invite to your calendar.

I’ll clear my schedule. You smile.

Another message, as soon as I get back.

You pout, you expected as much — you shouldn’t have dated such an indemand academic. The horrors of academia.

You laid back, forearm over your forehead as you stare back at your blank ceiling. It was fine, you really understood that he was busy, but you just — turning on your side to stare at his smiling face in the framed image on your bedside table before your eyes flutter shut — missed him.

You stir awake to lips pressed at your neck, soft kisses that draw you from the heavy arms of sleep, as your eyes flutter open to see Suguru, at your side.

“Sugu?” And his fingers trace your jaw, as your brow furrows in confusion, “but isn’t it—“

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind him — an arrangement of your favorites, as you blink, brain seemingly struggling to keep up, “you okay?”

Your fingers find his cheek, “is this a dream?” And he chuckles, as he leans down to plant a sweet kiss on your lips, before his fingers lightly pinch your cheek. And you’re sitting up only to jump into his arms, a gasp on his lips, as he chuckles, arms curling around you, raking his fingers through your hair. The bouquet lays forgotten on the side because truly the best gift was in your arms.

“I missed you too,” he chuckles, as you bury your face in his chest, breathing in his scent, as if he’d disappear any second.

You lean back to look up at him, “What are you doing back early?”

“Made a deal with Yaga that I’d go to all the networking events he wanted, if he let me leave last night,” he kisses your forehead, “surprised?”

“I am, the best surprise,” you find his lips in another kiss, “I was fine with you being busy, but I just missed you so much. It reminded me of all the time we had to spend apart — and I just know I can’t spend another minute without you,” you bite your lip, “I was going to wait until the end of the night, but,” you bite your lip, “I know we discussed moving in before — and I think I’m ready to,”

He blinks, before a smile breaks out on his lips, “Are you sure?” And you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, lips sliding against his, as your hands slide back to cup his cheeks.

You part, barely a breath apart, as you press your forehead against his, “Never been more sure of anything in my life — it’s definitely owed to us now, don’t you think?”

He snorts, his eyes shining, as he presses another gentle kiss to your forehead, “Should we start looking for a place now?” And you grin, as you climb into his lap, a tilt of your head.

“Don’t you want your Valentine’s Day gift?” You ghost kisses along his jawline, drawing a gasp from his lips, your hands guiding his own under his shirt you had stolen, “I had worn it last night just to try it on, but now,” you undo a few buttons of his shirt, a hint of red lace peeking through the undone collar.

His clothed cock twitches through his slacks, as his fingers pull yours away, to undo the last remaining buttons to show a red and pink lingerie set — red lace hugged the outline of body with red hearts dotting along the design, sheer blush fabric left barely anything of your breasts and cunt to the imagination — not that he needed to imagine — he had practically memorized every curve and corner of your body.

“Well?” And his fingers pull his shirt off of your body, as he’s gotten you pinned to the bed, as you giggle, lips parted, “I also baked you some sweet treats, baby,”

His lips curl, as he leans down to meet your lips, as his breath warms your lips and his words warm your heart, “There’s only one sweet thing I want, right now.”

The two of you never did get around to looking for a place together — not until the next day.

✧ a/n: this was supposed to come out earlier, but i fell asleep because i slept badly last night and ended up reading a manhwa when i got tired of trying to sleep. wrote this fic listening to laufey's valentine :) i also didn't tag everyone since this was kind of a last minute thing - sorry guys <;3

✧ taglist: @spider-fan72, @grunge-mo0n, @ameri-blog, @kentocalls, @peachyminx, @forest-fruits-jam, @hanxyy, @flyingtranscatofeffed, @sunflowmaryam, @regrettinglifechoices, @sugurus-fave-monkey, @atomicbxtch, @shinylightsalad

#sab [mlist]#sab series [prof suguru]#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto fanfiction #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto fanfiction #geto suguru fanfiction #geto suguru fluff

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fangisms · 7 months

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If you take requests can you write a fic about draco wanting the reader's attention all day but someone or something something always getting in the way ? Bonus if he gets a lil moody about it too

(Feel free to ignore if a bother tho ♡) :)

bellyaching

A/N: you GUYS i cranked this out in an afternoon, do u understand im OBSESSED with moody draco

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Draco is desperate for your attention, and desperate times call for desperate Slytherins. 1.1k words

Warnings: fluff, very very minor boy angst, slytherin behavior, moody/dramatic draco, established relationship

“Babe.”

It’s hushed, Draco doesn’t want to catch Flitwick’s attention while trying to grab yours. But it’s not easy when you’re seated in the row in front of him, and he’s desperately leaning over his workspace to reach you.

“Baby,” he mumbles, and you glance over your shoulder with a start. Then, smiling, you wave, and he’s soothed for just a moment. You turn back around and he’s practically pouting. He taps your shoulder with the paper rose he had so painstakingly folded for you. He’s got the paper cuts to prove it.

Draco taps your shoulder with the stem. You turn your head and hold one finger to your lips. You shushed him. You shushed him. He settles back in his seat, arms folded over his chest, wilted paper rose forgotten on his desk.

…

After class, you’re walking beside him, arm happily tucked within his as he escorts you to your Advanced Mythology lesson. Though he’s feeling a little deflated, having you near makes him feel better. And realizing that you’ve got a few minutes to spare before next class, he pulls you to the side of the hall, abandoning his friends to walk ahead.

Tucked beneath one of the awnings, he holds your books beneath his arm and pulls you closer.

“Draco!” you yelp, resisting his onslaught of hurried kisses, “We have class, remember? It’s that thing we are required to attend five days a week? We learn a lot of subjects? Sometimes they give us lunch hour—?”

“We’ll have plenty of time to get to class,” he huffs, pecking your bottom lip and the apple of your cheek.

“Draco, you’ve been late to nearly all of your classes because of—”

“Not because of you. I am solely responsible for my tardiness—ow!” You pinch his side and giggle when he slumps into your shoulder—“‘S not fair you’re so kissable.”

You roll your eyes and press your lips to the side of his sad face, “fine. You can have one kiss. Make it quick.”

At that, Draco perks up. You playfully pucker your lips, and as he leans in—You’ve got to be kidding.

“There you are! Come on, we’ve only got five minutes to get to class, and I’d rather not be forced to polish anymore silver!” Pansy grabs you by the crook of your elbow, dragging you out into hall. You wave at Draco and quickly catch up with Pansy.

For Merlin’s sake, is he not allowed one moment alone with his beloved.

…

The rest of the day goes just as smooth. As in not smooth at all. As in Draco’s day has been a complete shit show, and you’ve been otherwise occupied for just about every second of it.

First, he face plants during a scrimmage. Then, you tell him you’re using the afternoon to study with the girls in the library. You said he’s welcome to join but he knows that means he would be the only male attending and, therefore, it would be excruciatingly awkward.

Suffice to say, he’s spent the last few hours sulking and moaning to himself. Enzo thinks it’s hilarious.

When you finally sit next to him at dinner, he’s still stewing in his anger. Yes, it’s gotten to anger.

“Good evening, dear Draco!” you coo. And he’s clearly not having it, picking away at his food and only acknowledging you with a curt huff. You look to Theodore in shock, eyes wide when he shrugs.

“He’s been like this all day,” Mattheo says, “Think you could be a dear and fix him for us?”

You look over at Draco, who’s taken to scowling at the two boys. So you brush his hair out of his face and flatten his hood against his back.

“What’s wrong? I feel like I haven’t seen you all day?” you say, tilting your head. He huffs.

“I think you mean you’ve been ignoring me all day.”

“Draco!” you say, surprised by his sudden volume and honestly amused by his apparent lack of awareness. “What’s with the attitude?” He doesn’t respond, so you cross your arms over your chest. At this point, you’ve got the entire Great Hall’s attention. And winner for most dramatic couple goes to… “Come on, Draco, don’t just sit there and sulk, talk to me!”

“Oh, now you want to talk? Are you sure? Maybe you should go and study with your friends or read a book or do anything other than ask me how my day has been,” he whines. Enzo can’t help but snicker.

Your jaw drops, and you mumble, "Lower your voice, drama queen, I’m—"

“No, I’ve been trying to spend time with you all day, and you just shrug me off and find something better to do! What if I wanted to walk you to class and study with you?”

“We can still study together this week.”

“That’s not the point, babe. I wanted to spend time with you today,” he says, defeated and back to prodding at his meal tirelessly.

You sigh.

“I’m sorry, Draco. I had no idea”—you list his hand from the edge of the table and fit your fingers gently between his own—“I didn’t mean to starve you of attention. How careless of me.”

Draco presses his thumb against your hand, and he just barely turns his head to look at you.

“You’re teasing me,” he huffs. You look down at your hands and smile.

“A little,” you say, “But I am sorry. I should have listened to you. And asked you about your day. How was it by the way?”

“Ate complete shit out on the pitch. Found out I’m too needy for my girlfriend. Other than that, just peachy.”

“Draco,” you whine, pouting and cupping his face. “I’m sorry. And you’re not too needy for me, I’m just a bit daft.”

He shrugs, trying not to smile so wide and failing. Just happy to have you near him again.

“Oh, I have something for you”—he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the floppy rose—“Made it in charms.”

You hold its fragile, wrinkled frame in your cupped hands, frowning at it then at him.

“You made this for me?”

“Yeah. And it says ‘you look pretty’ on the inside, but I think if you try to unfold it, it’ll actually disintegrate,” he says.

You lean in swiftly for a kiss, but pause on the way.

“You two? Look away,” you grumble at Theo and Mattheo, snapping a spell against both of their cheeks. They wince and apologize, and Draco snickers.

He kisses you, tugging at your open robe and smiling against your lips when you reach for his other hand.

masterlist

#draco malfoy #draco x y/n #draco x fem!reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco #fluff #fanfic #hp universe #x reader #fanfiction #x fem!reader #established relationship

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milswrites · 2 months

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Failed Dates and Fated Mates

~ Azriel X Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel had finally asked you on the date he has longed for ever since he met you. Only now the day has arrived, everything seems to be going wrong. Can Azriel still make this a night to remember or will his failed attempts of romance be enough to drive you away?

Warnings: None? (Ok maybe like one mention of snapping necks…and one mention of jumping someone)

The first thing that went wrong was that Azriel was late. Horribly late. In hindsight, planning a date on the same day that Rhysand had asked him to go and check on a rebelling war camp in Illyria was a terrible idea. Azriel had spent the latter part of his day glaring at the sinking sun, willing it to stay glowing in the sky for just a little while longer. Praying to the cauldron that the tedious meeting he had found himself trapped in would soon draw to an end, enabling him to promptly take his leave and fly back to Velaris as swiftly as his wings would allow.

But Azriel wasn’t so fortunate, the dull arguments still ongoing without an end in sight, the traitorous sun now beginning to softly kiss the horizon. The disgruntled shadowsinger sat and listened to the endless disagreements with a clenched jaw, resisting the urge to snap the camp leaders neck in order to put an abrupt end to this fruitless task Rhysand had assigned him.

Foot tapping impatiently against the floor, Azriel restlessly shifted in his uncomfortable seat as the final few words were spoken. The monotonous tone of the male speaking finally came to a blissful halt. Launching from his chair the very moment the meeting was finally over, Azriel flared his wings as he exited the dull tent, shooting up into the now night sky. The sight of the twinkling stars illuminating the swirling black canvas was usually a picture Azriel admired, yet now he found himself swearing at their appearance, their beaming light mocking his tardiness.

The cold bite of the wind numbed his reddened cheeks as he sped through the grey clouds. Cursing himself, Azriel wished he had never taken the mission. Anger building in his chest for being stupid enough to plan a date on the one day this month he was away from his home. Bitter that he had been too cowardly to ask Rhysand to move the meeting once he realized his mistake. So here he was, wings beating forcefully to carry him back to Velaris in as little time as possible, hoping that you would still be waiting for him. Praying that he hadn't spent months working up the courage to ask you on a date only to ruin it by not being there.

~~~~~

His heart never failed to cease its incessant pounding, even as he circled over Velaris in search of a florist where he could buy you some apology flowers in hope they’d make up for his tardiness. He practically threw his money at the startled vendor, snatching the first bouquet he laid his hands on, before once more furiously taking flight, this time in the direction of your home.

He landed roughly, knees buckling with the force at which he had landed. Anxiously stepping over the blooming plants he had crushed during his descent into your garden. Speeding to your door, he raised his shaky hand to knock against the wood. But before he even had the chance to do so, you opened the door as if you had been waiting there for him.

Azriel took the opportunity to admire you as he struggled to catch his breath after the exhaustion that had washed over him during his frantic flight. Allowing himself to take in your beautiful features he had spent the past few months admiring from a distance, noticing the extra effort you had put into your appearance for the date. The light dusting of rosy blush across your rounded cheeks and the deep rouge carefully painted onto your lips. Azriel was captivated, amazed at the skilled way you had highlighted your already perfect features. Trying to resist the hypnotizing urge to lean in and place a testing kiss against your plush lips. Wondering if the rouge would transfer onto his own, marking him as yours.

Chest still heaving, he pulled his arm from behind his back. Revealing the bouquet he had hurriedly bought you as an afterthought. Only, once he pulled them out to hand them to you, he was met with the sight of tangled stems, the violet petals having dropped from the flowers due to the hasty speed at which he had traveled.

Expletives rolled from his tongue at the disastrous direction this evening was already heading in. The date hadn't even begun and everything was already going wrong. But you, sensing his increasing frustration, happily grabbed the mangled stalks from his shaking hands, a teasing grin on your face as you spoke in an attempt to calm the male, “Looks like someone was desperate to see me! Surprisingly not the worst gift someone has given me on a date, I once got a half eaten bar of chocolate.”

“I’m so sorry,” he explained feverishly, beginning to ramble about the horrendous day he had endured, “Rhys sent me to some camp in the middle of buttfuck nowhere and I’ve been in meetings since dawn and I never thought they’d end and I tried to get here on time, I really did and-”

You interrupted his panicked explanation, “It’s ok Azriel, truly. We still have all night ahead of us. Unless you’d prefer to rest after the day you’ve had, in which case I don’t mind if you want to come in for a tea and we can just rearrange it.”

His nerves lessened at your gracious understanding, pounding heart beginning to settle in his chest. “I’d still like that date if I haven't messed up my chances?” he asked hopefully.

Flashing him a pleased smile, you lifted a hand to his hair and plucked out a rogue violet petal from your bouquet, laughing as you said, “you may want to prune yourself before we head off though.”

Azriel raised a scarred hand to his hair, attempting to shake out any of the petals which had found their home in his windswept locks, “better?”

“Almost” you hummed, carefully picking out the last few leaves from his unruly hair. “There,” you said, satisfied at a job well done, “back to your usual handsome self. Although I must admit purple is a good colour on you.” He blushed a deep shade of red at your words, shyly breaking eye contact before he offered a tentative arm for you to take, nervously mumbling as he did so, “shall we?”

~~~~~

The two of you walked contentedly through the cobbled streets of Velaris, Azriel helping to keep you steady as the thin points of your heels kept getting stuck between the uneven stones. He was leading you towards a fancy restaurant he had booked specially for the occasion, remembering how Cassian had raved about the good food and romantic atmosphere after he had taken Nesta there one evening. Swearing that his mate had never shown her appreciation of him more than after she was satisfyingly filled with their delectable food. Azriel hoping that you would enjoy it just as much as Nesta had.

You approached the hostess stand placed outside the heaving restaurant. Walking past a large, winding queue of people who hadn’t booked, eagerly waiting to see if there was a spare table available. Azriel, having walked here a week prior to make the reservation, ignored the line as he went to speak to the staff at the door, “Uh, a booking for Azriel please, party of two.”

The stern-faced hostess checked her books, haughtily flicking through the pages as her brows furrowed, stopping as she finally found the male’s name. “I’m sorry,” she said sharply, no remorse in her voice, “your reservation was for over an hour ago, we gave the table away to someone else.”

Azriel blanched, his face going deathly pale in his flustered panic. You tightened your grip on his arm in hope of easing his worry, opting to speak to the hostess for him before he sank into the shadows in embarrassment, “Is there any chance we could get another table? His work kept him for longer than expected. It was an unforeseen circumstance, we would have sent a message your way if we knew.”

The stone faced woman directed your attention to the long line of people which ran all the way down the street until it curled around the corner, flooding onto the next, “you can join the line like everybody else. Or get this, don’t miss your booking next time.” A miserable Azriel had to hold you back to prevent you from jumping the woman, showing her just what would happen if she continued speaking to you with her sour attitude.

“Fine. Fine!” You huffed, “we’ll find somewhere better. Come on Az.” With that it was your turn to lead the male, dragging him as far away from the restaurant and its insufferably rude staff as you could. The male groaned despairingly at the situation, “Cauldron I’m so sorry. I’ve really made a mess of things.” Brushed his negative words away you scoffed, “I think it’s for the best, wouldn’t want to eat at that snobby place anyway.”

Azriel’s sorrow-filled eyes landed on yours, “maybe we should call it a night? We can try again another day if you’d still want to? this night is a total failure.”

Rolling your eyes at Azriel's pessimistic attitude, you disagreed with the males intentions of ending the night early, “What? Azriel it’s fine! Come on we’ll find somewhere else, there's bound to be hundreds of better restaurants.”

~~~~~

Determined to find a better place than Azriel had booked, which by the look of things wouldn’t be difficult to do, you moved together through the winding streets. Azriel relaxing little by little as you worked to clear his memory of the bad day he’s been having as you talked animatedly with him, hungrily eyeing up every restaurant you passed.

The more and more you walked, locked deeply in an enthralling conversation, the further away you headed from the bustling streets which were full of life. Instead, finding yourselves in the remote backstreets of Velaris, the narrow winding streets home to a different type of breathtaking beauty than the rest of the swarming City.

You passed an empty restaurant, the sign bearing its name hanging on by a single rusted nail. Crooked wooden tables set outside, laden with slightly grubby checkered tablecloths. Anyone would have walked past this, opting to instead go and find a busier, better looking place to eat. But to you, the small restaurant was the perfect place for your date. “This one!” You enthusiastically declared, pulling slightly on Azriel’s hand to stop him from walking past the quaint building.

“Are you sure?” Azriel sounded unsure, having assumed that you would have wanted to be taken to somewhere nicer for your date than a hidden, grubby hole in the wall. “This one’s perfect,” you confirmed with a grin, leaning into the open door to speak to the elderly waiter who was sat in boredom at the counter. Gesturing to the table outside, you stirred him from his daydream, “Are you open? Do you mind if we sit here?”

The man startled to life, disbelief crossing his face that there were actually willing customers before him, ones he didn't have to drag in from the street. “Yes…Yes! Of course! Please, do sit down" he cheered, jumping to his feet before scurrying away to grab some menus.

Azriel helped you take a seat at the wobbly table before moving to sit himself. You closed your eyes in bliss, appreciating the cooling breeze which made the humid night air slightly more bearable. The exited waiter returned with a candle for the table and a cold bottle of wine which he poured into the two glasses for you, “On the house for such a beautiful couple.” The pair of you blushed, thanking the kind man for his generosity, ordering your food from the menu before he scurried off into the kitchen, undoubtedly going to make the food himself.

“I think this is much better than my choice” Azriel mused, eyes now seeing the hidden beauty of the place, smiling at the twinkling fairy lights above you which cast a warm yellow glow over the silent street. It was quiet enough that you could both enjoy a pleasant conversation together, not needing to shout at each other to be heard, nor needing to whisper lowly to avoid annoying any other customers. No, the two of you were free to fall into your own little world, loosing yourselves in a stimulating conversation.

~~~~~

The words flowed easily, never fading into an awkward silence. No, you could talk to Azriel forever and he would be all too happy to listen, so long as it meant getting to spend time with your magnetizing presence. His anxiety now forgotten, he allowed himself to enjoy what had turned out to be a perfect date, the two of you already able to joke about the previous events of the evening.

The food was divine, portions large enough that you could eat your fill until you were satisfied. Stomachs happily full as you continued to sit and drink at the rickety table as you talked for what must have hours.

Testing the waters, Azriel stretched out a tentative hand, hoping to connect it with your own which was resting on the table. Warm eyes never leaving your face as he slowly moved his hand along the top of the table, failing to notice the glass full of wine which was placed before you. Clumsily, he knocked over the glass. His shadows stirred to life, catching the glass before it completely fell over, yet failing to be quick enough to prevent the liquid from spilling all over your lap. The cold temperature of it causing you to squeal in shock.

“Shit!” Azriel cursed as he jumped from his seat, grabbing napkins to come and help pat the wine from your dress, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that! Cauldron I'm such an idiot.”

You placed a gentle hand on his wrist, stilling his panicked wiping which was making the damp stain on your dress worse. “Don’t worry Az,” you smiled sweetly, “it’s just some wine. It will wash out.”

The male sighed deeply, pinching his brow in exasperation, “this night really isn't going the way I wanted it to.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, smile never faltering for a minute, even when you were faced with the sullen male, “and how did you want it to go?”

Roughly plonking himself back into his seat, Azriel inhaled a deep breath before speaking, “well I would have been on time for starters. Then we would have eaten that nice meal, I definitely wouldn’t have spilled your drink all over you. And I booked us tickets for the theatre…which we have definitely missed by now. I just...I wanted to impress you."

“I’ve never really cared for theatre” you dismissed, “it usually puts me to sleep. And Az we did share a nice meal! You don't need to try and impress me, you already do that every day.” You lay your hand upon his, smoothly completing the move he had attempted to do to you, thumb lovingly caressing the scarred skin of his hand, not put off by the uneven skin that made Azriel feel self-conscious.

You sat in thought, thumb still absentmindedly brushing his skin, “you know what? Come on, this nights not over yet.”

You excitedly pulled the Illyrian to his feet, thanking the generous waiter as you tipped him nicely before taking your leave. This time walking through the streets of Velaris with a destination in mind.

~~~~~

Hand in hand, you and Azriel walked along the Sidra, admiring the way the water glistened underneath the moonlight, Approaching a small empty beach, comprised of small rounded pebbles rather than sand, you removed your shoes so you could walk along it. Holding them in your free hand, the one which wasn't locked in Azriel's warm hold, the two of you made your way onto the beach. Walking towards the Sidra, you released Azriel's hand, allowing your bare feet to be submerged by the chilling waters of the river.

“Do you come here a lot?” Azriel asked, appreciating the way you seemed at home here, feet happily kicking through the flowing water as it soaked through the bottom hem of your dress. You looked like a nymph, wandering the shores of a City that appeared alien compared to the natural beauty of this small hidden piece of paradise.

“Sometimes,” you shrugged, “it’s a good place to think. Nobody ever really comes here.”

“It’s beautiful” he concluded, eyes not straying from your angelic form, the moon perfectly placed behind your head like a halo.

“The perfect way to end an incredible date don’t you think?” You grinned, leaving the water to come and walk by his side, his wing moving to curl around you to protect you from the wind which was steadily getting cooler as the night progressed.

Azriel snorted, shoulder bumping against yours playfully, “I’d say it’s been far from perfect. You deserved a better night I’m sorry.”

“Will you stop saying sorry?” You begged, eyes rolling at how pathetic he was making this pleasant evening seem, “I didn’t say yes to a date because I wanted to go to a fancy restaurant or the theatre. I said yes, Azriel, because I wanted to spend time with you. I never cared about what we were going to do. I still don’t! I just wanted to be with you.”

Azriel suddenly stopped in his tracks, you turned around in order to face where he was stood. The male looked like a god. His large winged form illuminated by the soft, warming light of the City which was now far behind, his tangled mane of hair blowing lightly in the wind, as his well-structured face held a picture of surprise due to your words.

“But isn’t that what you’re supposed to do to get someone to like you?” He asked in confusion, Cassian had always told him how you had to treat a woman like a princess. That if you took her out and spoiled her there was absolutely no way in hell they would be able to resist your charm. But what you were saying, that you didn’t need to be spoiled because you just genuinely wanted to spend time with him, had Azriel questioning everything he thought he knew about women.

“You don’t need to do anything to make me like you Azriel. I already do, I always have. From the very moment I first laid eyes on you" you shrugged, unafraid to reveal your emotions for the male who made it all too easy to love him, "you’ve had my heart for longer than you realize, and one - admittedly slightly failed but not completely terrible date - isn’t going to convince me otherwise.”

"But why" Azriel questioned, still not quite understanding how you were so willing to look past everything that hand gone wrong, all caused by his own wrongdoing.

"Azriel I would sit through a million failed dates with you, it doesn't matter! Not if it means we're doing it together." You sighed as you took in his still bewildered expression. Were you really going to have to spell it out for him?

"Cauldron Azriel, you're my mate!" you revealed, trying not to laugh as the males face contorted from confusion to a catatonic stupor, his eyes widening in alarm at your confession. Grinning at his reaction you continued, "If being your mate means I have to love your tardiness, ruined gifts and incredibly poor taste in restaurants then Azriel I would happily sit through every failed date we have. Nothing is going to change how much I long to be with you."

"Mates?" he replied, a crooked smile forming on his face at the realization. Liking the way it sounded on his lips. "Yes!" you beamed, stepping towards his relaxing body so you could throw your arms around him. "So I didn't blow my chance?" he whispered into your ear as the two of you hugged tightly.

"For my mate? I'd give him all the chances in the world!" you answered truthfully, "Although hopefully on the next date you won't freak out as much if things don't go as planned."

"Honestly?" he shyly spoke, "I think there's going to be even more pressure on the next one now I know we're mates. I'm talking major freak outs." You laughed at his words, making a move before he could say anything else, pulling Azriel closer towards you and sealing your lips against his in a passionate kiss.

Lightning struck, and the heavens opened. Torrents of rain falling from the dark clouds which had suddenly blown in from the mountains. It took less than a minute for the rain to soak through your clothes and a minute more for the male to reluctantly pull away from the kiss with a groan. Raging eyes glaring up at the sky as if his anger could cease the heavy fall of water.

Giggling you pulled his chin down so he would face you once more, the rain flowing down your face aiding in cooling your warm skin, which had heated up from the burning desire that was birthed from the lustful kiss you had exchanged.

"Don't" you whispered through swollen lips, admiring the claiming way your lipstick had smudged against his skin, "It's perfect. You're perfect". The uncomfortable way his sodden clothes were clinging to his skin forgotten, Azriel connected his lips with yours once more. The storm that raged around you not enough to deter him from deepening the kiss, tongue meeting yours as you allowed yourselves to get lost in the moment, hidden away on the desolate beach.

And as your lips sensually worked together as one, Azriel finally came to the same conclusion you had. It wasn't how well a date goes that determines whether or not it's perfect. It's the person who’s with you. The kind of person who can find the humor and beauty of a moment whether it’s good or bad. Azriel had found that person, his other half. His mate. And perhaps, he mused to himself as the searing kiss continued, perhaps tonight wasn’t a complete and total failure. Something good did come from it after all.

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

Notes: My first time writing on my laptop and boy what a difference it makes lol. The half eaten bar of chocolate given as a gift on a date unfortunately actually happened 🙃

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel oneshot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel

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star-writr · 8 months

Text

The Music Room

Another 10th Doctor x reader drabble. Requests are appreciated. You can also find this on my Ao3. Reader is gn and plays guitar. Enjoy!!

You had always been the TARDIS's favourite companion. Every-so-often, the spaceship would make a whirring noise in your presence, and if the Doctor was around he would smile and tell you: "she says you're the best person I've ever brought on board". It always made you chuckle and stroke the control panel in an attempt to return the flattery, which made the Time Lord either sarcastically ask if you two wanted to be alone, or look at you quietly with a gleam in his eye before suddenly announcing your next adventure.

As if that wasn't enough to make you see that the TARDIS had a weak spot for you, she would always find ways of comforting you when something was wrong; before you could even sigh with exasperation, you'd be distracted from your troubles by a familiar smell of blackberry pie, or by your favourite song playing faintly on a radio somewhere, or by a book dropping next to you on the cold pavement from god-knows-where.

In a similar occasion, returning in the TARDIS after almost dying as usual, the ship's hallway lighting threw you off a bit. You were just trying to reach your room, only wanting to collapse on the bed, but it was almost as if she didn't want you to, leading you in a different direction. The blinking light bulbs guided you until reaching a door; it looked exactly the same as all the others, so at first you couldn't understand what made it so special that the TARDIS wanted you to find it. As soon as you saw what was inside, however, everything else slipped off your mind.

It was a room full of instruments. There was a huge piano between some marble columns, resting on a glass pedestal; a drum set occupied a nearby corner; and, shifting your vision, you were greeted by the biggest guitar and bass collection you had ever laid eyes on. Every last one of them looked like it had been taken straight out of your dreams and into that room.

Since then, you had found yourself visiting that paradise every time you had the chance. You already knew how to play a guitar, so you usually handled those, shifting between different models. There were brands you had heard of and brands you didn't recognise, and they came in every possible colour imaginable. You were fond of all of them, especially the more extravagant ones with unusual shapes.

The Doctor was aware of how you spent most of your time on the TARDIS, and didn't have anything against it. You wouldn't lock the door or anything, so everytime the Time Lord wanted to check up on you, you'd let him. Sometimes he'd linger in the room, sit down on the floor while you attempted to read a music sheet, or he would suggest you played something so he could sing it. The Doctor wasn't very fond of or very good at singing, but it gave him an excuse to stay with you a little longer, and that was enough for him. On very rare occasions, he would also ask you to tutor him. Of course, he had picked up many guitars in his 900+ years of life, and knew perfectly well how to play, but again, he wanted to spend time with you without admitting it was for no reason other than his fondness of you. Honestly, his hearts melted every time your fingers stroke those strings, making him helplessly realize that he couldn't get away, and that he didn't want to. Therefore, he obliged to his feelings, staying by your side as long as possible. And you were more than okay with it.

With time, your bond grew stronger, making you question your feelings again and again. The music room kept almost all of your attention on each other, so to avoid feeling helpless your ritual started to take place in complete silence. Aside from monosyllabic replies to monosyllabic questions, you and the Doctor didn't talk as much as before, but it went without acknowledging, growing on you both. That habit came to a halt when the TARDIS made the first move instead of either of her passengers, tired of the mutual pining and determined to fill the silence that had grown inside the room. After all, it was a music room. It wasn't meant to be quiet.

She made sure it didn't go silent ever again by doing the only thing she could, which was locking both of you in. As soon as you realized the door wouldn't open, it startled you.

"What if there's something wrong with the TARDIS, Doctor?" you worried, while he tried to get the door open with his sonic.

The alien sighed. "The only thing wrong here is her attitude," he mumbled, "she's doing this deliberately. Let us out!"

You were confused. "How do you know? Why would she do that?"

The Doctor stopped in his tracks, putting one index finger on your lips, shushing you, and the other on his own. The TARDIS was speaking to him. A few expressions made their way onto his face, substituting each other and, once the spaceship's whirrs quieted down, shifting into a frown. The first thing he did was thank the stars that you couldn't understand the TARDIS. The second thing he did was curse everything because you didn't understand the TARDIS and he had to tell you everything himself.

"What happened? What did she say?" you whispered, his finger still on your lips. He removed it quickly and took one good look at your unaware expression.

The Doctor acknowledged the knot in his stomach and looked away, unable to keep eye contact with you. You were gorgeous to him, too gorgeous to ignore. It would've made him stutter, and he hated stuttering.

"There may or may not be something you need to know" he started.

"About what?"

"About..." about how much I want to kiss you, the Doctor thought. "...about me."

You raised an eyebrow. "And what about the TARDIS?"

"She locked us in here because she's giving me no choice but to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"The thing. About me. The thing you don't know."

"Yes, I know that. But what is it, then?"

It was one of the very rare times when the Doctor genuinely did not know what words to use, which was worrying considering how much the Doctor liked words. He got out of life threatening situations with words. He also got into those same life threatening situations with words. He liked words, he really did. He also liked you. Considering he liked both you and words, the realization of not knowing what words to use with you was like a slap on the cheek. Specifically, it was exactly like one of those slaps only mothers gave him. Specifically his companions' mothers. He remembered Martha Jones and her mother. He also remembered Donna, but not her mother, because it was Donna herself who slapped him a couple times. Maybe more that a couple. She would've probably slapped him now. "Tell them, you twat!" she would've shouted. It would have been very effective. It would've certainly got him to say something, anything, even "ouch", which would've been better than standing completely still like he was doing now. A slap, that's what he needed. "I'm a genius", he thought. Then he slapped himself.

"Doctor!" you exclaimed.

"Sorry," he apologized, "I needed that. Sorry."

You took his hands in yours. "Are you alright? Is it something bad? Do you have to tell me something bad?"

"No. Well, it depends."

You kept looking in his eyes, insistent and a bit curious.

The Doctor held his breath. "Look, the thing is I'm usually good with words. What I'm not good at is speeches. I hate speeches. Especially heat-felt speeches. I like listening to speeches, but I don't like when they come from my mouth, because before they get to my mouth they go through my brain, and my brain is too messy to actually figure out a speech without screwing it up and changing the subject too many times. And now I have to give you a speech."

You smiled, a bit amused. "And, in a few words, what is this speech about?"

"Uhm. Well. I can think of a couple things." The Doctor looked away.

"Such as?"

"Such as the fact that I want to kiss you. And go out with you."

You smiled, surprised. "On a date?"

"Yeah, sure. I just need to figure out the speech first."

"The speech to ask me out on a date?"

"Yes. I just need a second."

"Go right ahead. I'll wait."

He smiled. "Thanks."

The Doctor spent more than a second with his thinking face on. Then, he realized what he just said, and looked at you with his eyebrows raised and his lips parting without making a sound. You laughed, hugging him. It didn't take long to hug you back.

"I'll go on a date with you, Doctor" you said, kissing him on the cheek and causing him to blush. "However many dates you want."

"No speech needed?" he asked, smirking.

"No speech needed" you replied.

#doctor who #10th doctor x reader #david tennant #10th doctor #10th doctor imagine #doctor who x reader #x reader #gn reader #drabble

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shrenvents · 7 days

Text

Professor Howlett

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!)

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you, that was until you missed his class.

Word count: 2.6k

…

Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. Bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing, than wearing something ‘plain.’ Unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day, I was so close to the finish line, before my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret, and outed it to the entire student body.

That I’m a mutant…

That was what led me across the coast, for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I heard the stories of mutants being hunted and gone missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough, that I wouldn’t at least make it to my 20th birthday.

However, my days of swindling folks of cash and food came to a halt, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so I grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into a crowd.

Just as I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a colossal, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn-in, leather jacket.

Logan Howlett, or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor... After he and Scott captured me, they dragged me by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I cringed when they said where we were headed, but once I arrived and saw all the kids, like me, going about their lives, free, I knew everything would be more than okay.

And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.

...

This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at my tardiness... Just my luck. The one day that week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.

Multitasking between attempting to tie my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and shutting my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.

“It’s past 11 am, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm. “Class?”

“The only class you have left today kid, is at 2. You’ve managed to miss the rest already,” she scolds flatly.

“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare. She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, exasperated.

“Oh?” I straighten out, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class, where he’s most likely dozed off.

Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. I giggle and then go towards him.

Mr. Howlett?” I say, clearing my throat loudly, he grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I say even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, but he’s still sleeping. I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and my change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.

He rasps my name, voice echoing through the classroom. I refused to move away from my position, wanting to seem unaffected by him, but I was anything but. With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart races wildly. He clears his throat, and rolls his eyes away after taking in my attire, as he usually does —gives me a once-over, and rolls his eyes back to his focus on his lecture.

“You missed class, that isn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.

“Yes and I’m sorry-“

“I hope it wasn’t because you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen. He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every time he does, I can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs, that makes me rise to defend myself. “No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him. “And you’re just gonna admit to that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”

“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort, with a growing smile, beaming across my face. Though, his complimentary smile, drops as mine comes to full form. He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me.

“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion. “Um, I’m sorry?” I compromise, “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” He remarks dangerously. My brows furrow.

“Okay, I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to.

He lifts from his chair, standing up. I gasp as he towers over me. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk, staying stoic. “What?” I yelp and his smirk breaks through. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”

“What’s not funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”

I freeze in disbelief. Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?

“You heard me, you damn highlighter,” he asserts. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re a damn adult.” His scratchy voice loses its humour, and I stay frozen to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan orders as he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.

Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”

Before Logan can respond angrily, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to the floor, and straddling his hips. I cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together, moulding them into one. He grunts in surprise as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would want him this way.

He half-heartedly pulls away between kisses, whispering my name in small protests, but he gets muffled by my lips and grinds on his lap. Quickly, his objections turn into fierce groans. He takes my hips into his hands, tightly gripping into my flesh as he pushes me back, onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays glued to my core, even as we move. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it in a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating me, and I struggle to breathe.

Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how desperate he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.

“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock. “I'm a sucker for extra attention teach,” I mention, as sensually as I could muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his dick doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me. “You like attention sweets?” Logan questions softly. His tone makes me shiver and whimper, yet again. “I like yours.”

“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me he doesn’t actually want any opposition. “Yes,” I whisper.

His voice drops an octave as he swears, rolling his hips into me once. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he laughs by my ear as he dips down. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”

“Hey!” I object meekly. I feel him smile as he leans away from my ear, and I turn my head over my shoulder to watch him peer down at where our bodies meet. “You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not there to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken here so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can vividly imagine me deep inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back.

“But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.

“Why?” My reply is so quick that I grimace.

“Because, if we did, I’d be hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that isn’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he pecks my naked spine, just below my bra clip. “Even your lingerie is pink huh?” He laughs smoothly. “Imagined it would be.” My legs rub together instinctively at his words.

“You imagined it?”

He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs pleasantly.

After a long beat of silence and a little grinding, I speak up. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”

He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, after giving my ass cheek a mild slap. I yelp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late,” he comments airily. I nod and scurry out the room, with a grin plastered on my face.

...

After a long, vigorous rest of the day. I collapse into my plushy bed with a sigh.

“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings, with a hint of familiar sass. I jolt up to see Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt is only more strained as his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims, with a mocking tone, repeating my "childish" words from earlier. My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin.

So, in an attempt to remedy my reputation, sitting up on my bed, with my arms bracing my figure, I slowly spread my bent legs. I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” I roll my tongue as his name teasingly leaves my mouth. His head twitches in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.

“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit. “Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh. I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I push my hands into his hair, running my fingers through his thick locks. He lets out a coarse groan.

Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, again, coating his tone.

Just as I begin undoing his belt, he flips me over on my stomach like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips, to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above. “I better see a pink thong,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction as I’m left in just my underwear for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.

I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, briskly going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."

With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.

He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.

"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.

I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.

At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.

He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"

"Lo, it's too much-"

"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.

"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.

"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.

When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.

After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder. I smile, giggling, "Why?"

"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face of yours," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”

I guffaw, "You truly have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."

He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're really asking for it princess."

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stargazestories · 1 month

Text

OWN MY MIND (M)

Paring: modelJeonghanx model reader

Category: one shot

Warnings: SMUT minors DONOT INTERACT!

Hardcore smut? Oral (f receiving) degradation, insults? Degradation kink, heel kink,Sadomasochism(light),sadism(light), squirting, hair pulling

A/n: If I’m honest I’m not sure if the warnings labels 100% fall into those categories, but I rather be safe. Please enjoy still 🙏🏻

Jeonghan knocked on the door to the luxurious apartment, waiting after the 3rd knock, his hands fidgeting but quickly stopped when he saw the door open to reveal y/n who wore a confused look for a brief moment.

“Yoon” was all she said.

“We need to talk”

She had thought about it for a moment but gave in and let him walk inside.

“So, What do I owe the displeasure of having you here?” She asked as she guided him to her large living room and motioned him to sit across from her. Something about her tone, the fact that she could care less that THE Yoon Jeonghan, was there to talk to her, made him question his status.

“I wanted to come and…apologize” he was barely able to say that last part.

“Apologize?” She repeated with a hint of amusement, one that Jeonghan noticed.

“Yes…I apologize for my behavior at the photo shoot, I had not intention of offending you” his apology sounded sincere but she shook her head.

“You aren’t sorry” was so cold in her response, it began to send chills down his spine.

“I-i am” his confidence faltering.

“If you are really sorry, come here and beg for my forgiveness” her lips curled to a devilish smirk.

Jeonghan was taken back by her request. In the time he had in this industry, he never once apologized to anyone. The fact she was asking this of him with such assertiveness, he wasn’t sure what to do. A portion of him wanted to tell her off, but the other half was telling him to follow whatever she says.

“Then leave”

“N-no” he got up and walked to her, head down. The distance was short but it felt like an eternity. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a dark desire. He just stood in front of her, not completely sure how to beg.

“Kneel to me”

“what?” He snapped his head at her

“I didn’t stutter”

He gulped and kneeled down to her, in front of her feet that were adorned by black stiletto heels. For some reason he couldn’t bring himself to look at her again, every time he looked at her, it felt like a trance.

“I’m waiting” she taunted him, she reveled at the sight of Jeonghan, the golden boy of the modeling industry, here at her feet. He had made a piss poor impression on y/n, with being late to their first photoshoot, then trying to use his charm to get away with it, but she quickly proved to be a challenge for him.

Y/n was known for her fierce attitude and commanding presence, one that was not to be crossed with. Unfortunately for Jeonghan, his tardiness had already put him in her bad graces. Things only got worse as Jeonghan attempted to charm the beautiful woman into forgiving him but she was having none of it, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.

Things progressed for the worse for Jeonghan, as during the photo shoot, y/n took charge. She practically barked orders at him and criticized his poses, Jeonghan, used to being the center of attention, practically resented her for putting him in his place. He had offered to take her to dinner as an apology, but y/n rejected it as well. It’s the very reason he’s right here, in front of her, on his knees, he was begging for forgiveness.

“I’m….sorry” he said softly, the confidence from before completely gone. She leaned in and grabbed his collar tight, pulling him in rough, his eyes widened as she brought him in, inches away from her face. “What are you sorry for?”, she teased. Her face was so close he could feel her breath on his lips and her warm vanilla perfume filled his nose, something about it was intoxicating to him.

His eyes finally met hers as his breathing became more shallow, “I-I’m sorry for being late”. Noticing the tension that was building up, y/n decided to take things further.

Y/n pulled his collar back in once more and pushed the man down onto her polished carpet, standing over him as he watched her every move,“and why are you sorry?hm?”

The flustered look on his face, along with the lingering tension was making this more fun for her. As for Jeonghan, he felt his body heat rise, his chest rising and falling quickly as he answered again “because I-I didn’t mean to upset you” she laughed, this was the first time he heard her laugh or have any emotion besides disdain toward him. She put her heel on his chest as she pushed him down while keeping her grin, “do you think I should accept your apology?”, the pressure she applied caused him to let out a groan. Her eyes wandered down his body and noticed not only his breathing but something growing down south.

“Don’t make me ask twice” she pressed down again, harder this time, seeing it had an effect on his body. “Yes! please!” He yelled as he closed his eyes as he let out a breathy moan.

“Please what? Use your words” she asked as she removed the pressure off his chest and slowly brought her heel down south of his body. She had noticed the growing tent between his legs and couldn’t help herself to lightly graze his hard on with her heel. Jeonghan was dazed, his body was reacting on its own but he didn’t even attempt to fight it. The way she commanded him, demanded him to answer her, the pain she was inflicting on him, made his head spin. “Please forgive me!” He whined with his soft voice.

She had stopped rubbing at his crotch which made him whimper for more, “so pathetic” she lifted her skirt, and exposed her lace black panties in front of him making Jeonghan gawk at her, she was so god damn beautiful and the vision of ecstasy. She rolled her thong down and off of her legs, exposing her glistening pussy to him.

“You don’t deserve my apology, right?”

“I don’t” he didn’t hesitate to answer. Y/n shoved her lace thong in his mouth as she continued to humiliate him by laughing at him, “learning fast” she praised him, if you can call it that , “I’ll forgive you….if you can make me cum” Jeonghan nodded fast, wanting to be forgiven so bad by her.

She walked back to her spot on the sofa chair, giving Jeonghan the pleasure of seeing the sight of her ass before sitting on the armchair and using her finger to gesture to him to come over. Jeonghan wasted no time but was stopped half way “ah!….come to me on your hands and knees” she demanded. Jeonghan nodded and slowly made his way to y/n, stopping right in front of her feet.

Y/n lifted his face and removed her panties from his mouth, softly grazing his lips with her thumb and getting a good look at his hazy eyes. Jeonghan licked his lips earning another smile from her as she leaned back, getting comfortable, she extended one leg out to him while hoisting the other on the edge of the sofa to expose her seeping core at him. Jeonghan lightly held her extended leg, first kissing the side of the black patent heel, trailing his kisses upwards slowly, letting every single kiss linger, one after the other, earring soft hums from y/n who was taking in the sight of him, the neediness, and the desire he displayed just for her.

His trail of kisses made their way up to her inner thigh till he made his way to her core, where he took a moment to admire how it was soaked, wanting nothing more than just a taste. Using the flat side of his tongue, he gave her cunt a long lick flicking her clit with his tongue, making y/n let out a breathy moan. Jeonghan kissed her clit again before giving it his full attention, licking it and suckin on it, making y/n mule in pleasure. Y/n took her hand and ran it through his hair, which by now was sticking to his face due to his sweat from the heat of it all, gripping it to push him further in forcefully.

Jeonghan was practically suffocating in her soaking pussy, drinking her up desperately, the vibrations of his moans against her made her bite her lip as the waves of pleasure flooded her body. “Fuck!-“ she gripped his hair harder making him cry of pleasure as he continued to ravage her. “Eat me out like the pathetic man you are, ah fuck” this turned Jeonghan on, the way she degraded him, demanding and commanding him to make her climax.

Smothering his face all over her cunt, Jeonghan sucked on her pussy, making no attempt to catch his breath until she came. With every lick and suck y/n arched her back and pushed Jeonghan's face deeper in, feeling her climax close. Jeonghan stuck his tongue right in her and swirled it around her walls, face fully covered in her sweet juices, feeling her legs quiver at the action. Y/n let out a final groan of pleasure, her hips pushed forward to him as she squirted all over his face as her climax washed over her body, riding the ecstasy.

Jeonghan pulled back, face and hair covered in her, completely strung out in pleasure of having her cum all over him.

Y/n caught her breath as she pushed herself forward to meet his face again, slowly eyeing him, his breathing was labored and the way his half lid eyes were fully entranced by her, he looked perfect this way. She licked his lips, getting a taste “you're forgiven”.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #jeonghan #jeonghan smut #seventeensmut #yoon jeonghan #seventeen x y/n #jeonghan fic #seventeen smut #svt smut #svtsmut #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #yoon jeonghan smut

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heich0e · 2 years

Text

"You're taking fucking forever in there."

You ignore Levi's irritated comment as you fiddle with the buckles on your shoes, too tiny to clasp easily and at a part of your ankle that requires your legs to be both tilted and bent to access them. A lethal combination in opposition to your dexterity.

"Are you sewing that dress by hand or what?"

His voice is nearer to your bedroom door now, a little bit more difficult to tune out with only the thin wood between you.

"No, my little mice helpers are doing that for me while I sing to them," you call back, but your words are light and flippant where his were heavy with the weight of his impatience.

"It wouldn't surprise me if you did have your own army of vermin with the amount of junk you've got in this apartment." You can't see Levi's face but you know he's looking around your living room with his nose crinkled in the particular way he does when he finds something distasteful.

You scoff as you finally succeed in doing up your second buckle. You lift your head so you can snap your rebuttal directly towards your closed door.

"Sorry we can't all live like minimalist monks!"

Levi snorts in reply. "I'm hardly a minimalist, I just don't accumulate needless things."

"You only own one bowl, one plate, and one mug."

You've known Levi since college, and you're fairly certain he has the same amount of possessions filling the entirety of his one-bedroom apartment that he did in his one-room dorm a decade prior. Probably the same ones, too.

"That way no one ever tries to come over for meals, it's clever."

"It's spartan."

There's a light thump on the other side of your door, and you wonder what it may have been.

"Didn't you ever read those Marie Kondo books?" Levi's voice is impossibly close now, like he's got his forehead pressed to your door. The thump makes a little more sense.

You laugh a bit to yourself as you imagine the way he's slumped against the expanse of wood, long-dressed in his suit and ready to go where you've taken your time getting ready. It's not your fault Levi showed up thirty minutes earlier than he said he would to pick you up for the company party your shared workplace was throwing that evening--though you should have expected it, given he's never been tardy to anything in the entire time the two of you had been friends.

"Can't say I did," you reply as you cross your bedroom, leaning over in your mirror to get one last close-up look at your face. You run your thumbnail against the edge of your bottom lip where your gloss was slightly ill-applied. "Why do you ask?"

"S'all that," Levi sighs, "'spark joy' bullshit. Don't keep things in your space if they don't make you happy or whatever."

You smile at your own reflection, eyes flickering to the image of your bedroom door you can see in the glass.

"And what if all my 'junk' makes me happy?"

There's some shuffling, and a moment later Levi mutters: "How can an issue of a magazine from 2010 make you happy?"

You suspect he's plucked an old copy of some fashion magazine off the stack resting on the bookshelf beside your door. You've actually been meaning to throw those away for a while, but you don't tell him that.

"How can you manage to not find happiness in anything?"

"That's not true," he argues.

"Oh yeah?" you counter, adjusting the way your necklace is resting against your collarbones. "Name something that you keep around just because it makes you happy."

"My kettle."

"Nope," you answer immediately, grabbing your purse off the end of your bed and heading towards the door, "that serves a practical, utilitarian purpose. I mean something useless that you just like. Just something you think is pretty."

You grasp the handle and pull it open, and you take Levi by surprise--he barely catches himself with a hand on either side of the door frame to keep from crashing into you.

There's a little pink mark at the centre of his brow where he'd been leaning against the door, and his eyes are wide.

"You ready to go?" you ask him, tucking your bag under your arm.

He's frozen, his expression still a little taken aback.

"What?" you ask him, suddenly self conscious. Your hands tug at the material of your dress nervously. "Should I change?"

"No," he says, soft but sure. "You look... fine."

Your face pinches.

"Fine?"

"Nice," Levi corrects himself, finally looking away. He fiddles with the stack of magazines he'd been complaining about moments prior. "You look nice."

"Wow, Ackerman, with compliments like that it's shocking that you have to take your best friend as your date to the company party and not one of the countless women I'm sure are knocking at your door."

Levi narrows his eyes, tossing you a withering look.

"You're the one who said we should go together."

"That's because I want to blackout at the open bar, and you're the only person I know who turns down a drink on the corporate dollar," you say with a bright smile.

Levi tuts in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes wandering away from you again. "Charming."

A beat of silence passes.

Levi sucks in a little breath.

"You."

"Pardon?" you ask, and not even because he said it so quietly you barely understood him, but because it doesn't quite make sense.

"Something I keep around just because I like it," Levi says, his eyes fixed so intently on the outdated magazine stack that you're surprised the pages don't burst into flames. "Just because it makes me happy..."

Your heart stutters in its rhythm, a sudden weakness in your knees you can't chalk up to the height of your heels as easily as you may have liked to.

"...Just because it's pretty."

You swallow thickly.

His eyes meet yours.

The time and space between the two of you is thick and sweet like honey, and you wade through it slowly as you fight to find your words. You swear you can almost taste it as your tongue peeks out to moisten your already glossy lips.

"We should probably go," you say quietly, reaching out to adjust the lapel of Levi's suit. If your touch lingers a moment longer than it ought to, if your fingers brush against him in a way that friends' shouldn't, neither of you says anything about it.

Levi nods and clears his throat, taking the slightest step away from you towards your front door. "We gotta get you back before midnight after all, Cinderella."

You blink, a little confused, a little dazed, a little bit of a head rush still clouding your thoughts.

"The mice, remember?" Levi offers when he sees your curious look, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Oh," you laugh, letting your head hang as you nod slightly. "Right."

The two of you make your way down to the parking lot outside of your apartment building towards Levi's car, and you watch as the lights flash when he unlocks it.

"I've got two mugs, by the way," Levi says as he pulls the driver's side door open, and you pause with your hand on the handle of your own. He looks at you over the roof of his car, his eyes suddenly firmer than you'd seen them all night. More insistent. More sure.

You tilt your head, confused.

He ducks down to slide into his seat, but not before calling back to you one last time:

"The other one is yours."

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman #aot drabble #aot writing #writing #here u go anon idk what this is

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melrodrigo · 9 months

Text

Tardy, part 10

Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader

Summary: Tensions rise as two of your friends are found in a suspicious position.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, angst

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I’m sorry if this sucks…writing this chapter sucked the life out of me.

Sitting in the ambulance doesn’t feel right.

You don’t think you deserve to be here, getting taken care of; while the rest of the gang goes on searching for clues. You lean against the van door, struggling to keep your eyes open.

You can’t bear to watch as the police lift Ethan’s body and wheel him into their black van.

You’re so tired that you can’t even cry.

You turn and bury yourself in the crook of Tara’s neck, trying to distract yourself with her warmth, her smell, her. She hasn’t left your side for a second since the paramedics arrived, and she doesn’t seem to mind you clinging desperately onto her either.

It might be how exhausted you are, or the fact that her comfort makes you feel so safe, it lulls you to sleep quickly.

It feels like a blink of an eye before you’re getting woken up to the sound of Sam interrogating Anika and Mindy.

“Found them just a couple minutes ago, they were knocked out,” Tara whispers to you, reading your face in the blink of an eye and knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

You inspect the pair carefully. They look like they’ve been through it.

Along with red marks all over her arms, Mindy has a little scrape of peeled skin at the top of her head.

Anika’s looks even worse.

There’s a huge purple-ish green-ish bump just right above her eyebrow. It’s in the shape of a perfect rectangle like someone had tried to knock her out with a brick.

“Where have you guys been?” Sam’s asking, sort of calm but sort of rough at the same time. There’s no doubt there is an underlying tone of suspicion in her voice.

Mindy sighs heavily, seeing right through the fake calm facade Sam’s putting on.

“Sam, we swear we do not know anything.” She’s saying, eyes wide. “We saw Ghostface coming, we ran! And the next thing you know we both got knocked out. I mean, look at the wound Sam. I know Ghostfaces have done this before, the whole hurt yourself thing. But I swear. Please, Sam.”

She looks put-together, all things considered. But Mindy’s always been one of those people, she goes through life swiftly; with nothing on her mind except for obscure indie horror films and her girlfriend.

She doesn’t sound like she’s lying, you’ll give her that.

“So you just left Danny alone?” Sam asks, clearly not as persuaded as you are.

Anika breathes loud, a sound of growing impatience.

“We were being chased. I’m sorry Sam but if it was between Mindy and Danny there’s no way I’m picking your boyfriend.” She explains, waving her hands wildly. “And we don’t even know if he’s Ghostface.” She ends, the last statement said in nothing but a hushed whisper.

Sam can’t say much about that. She breathes heavily, very much resembling the look of an angry dragon as she stands; towering.

You snuggle into Tara, deciding that you in fact do not want to be a part of this conversation.

She looks down at you and smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Then she’s wrapping her arms around you and slipping a hand in your back pocket.

She wiggles around in there a moment before you feel her fish something out and shift away from you slightly, smiling.

“Now what’s this?” She’s whispering teasingly, quiet laughter shaking her body.

You crane your neck to look at it, but all you see is a backside of a tiny piece of paper, all yellow and old looking.

Paper? You don’t remember having paper in there.

Tara stills as she reads it, her heartbeat under you quickening at a rapid pace.

“What is it, babe?” You question, tightening your grip around her waist.

She tilts her whole body to show you what’s written on the paper.

Scribbled crazily on the note in thick red liquid, are five words.

NITEHALK CINEMA - TONIGHT. BE THERE.

You stare at it for a long time, like if you looked at it hard enough it’ll dissolve into thin air. The words look almost anthropomorphic, threatening to jump out and grab you by the neck.

“Huh.” You state, turning to blankly stare at Tara. She blinks back at you, obviously also taken aback.

You guys have a silent conversation until Tara carefully untangles herself from you and makes her way toward the older Carpenter.

You see her hand Sam the paper, all eyebrows furrowed and soft voices. Sam snatches it from her, but your view gets blocked off when a paramedic comes to stand in front of you.

You eye her a little wearily, confused as to why she’s standing there.

“Hey, hon.” She says, eyes crinkling at the sides when she smiles. She has some age, you can tell, but she still looks youthful and full of life.

You relax, almost melting at her term of endearment.

You were always a sucker for one of those. Especially if they were coming from an attractive middle-aged woman.

You quirk an eyebrow, signaling that she can keep speaking.

“So, I had a quick look at the wound on your stomach there. You’ve got an infection, sweetheart. It’s nothing to worry about if you get to the hospital immediately.” She tells you, sternly.

An infection?

You open your mouth to answer her, tell her that there’s no way in hell you have enough time to do that, but Tara’s heading back before you can say a thing; and you mumble a quick, “Don’t tell her anything.”

Because the last thing you need is Tara fussing over you when there should be Ghostface hunting to do.

“So what happened?” You ask your girlfriend, grabbing and positioning her so she’s standing in between your legs.

She doesn’t say a thing about it, but you see the blush start forming.

“We’re going to the damn theater together, and we’ll end the motherfucker. Once and for all.” Tara says and then tilts her head to the side, eyes flirting between you and the paramedic as if she’s just realizing she’s here. “Everything okay?”

You cut in quickly, shooting the paramedic a look and wrapping an arm around her waist for reassurance.

“Everything’s great.” You smile.

“Aren’t we rushing into this kind of fast? Like..why are we going to a random place Ghostface clearly wants us to go to?” Chad asks, his voice betraying his fear for the whole plan.

You’ll admit, it was a sort of sudden decision, even for you.

As soon as Tara showed Sam that paper, Sam turned into an animal. Asking for papers from the medical staff still around and gathering all of you to listen to her new plan; excluding Anika and Mindy.

“Seriously?” Anika’s saying, right after Sam informed her that they weren’t invited to listen in.

Sam doesn’t relent, just stares her down with those fiery eyes she only has reserved for situations like these.

“If you want me to believe you, you’ll have no problem staying out of this,” Sam says, nodding matter-of-factly.

“Well, I don’t want to be kept out of the loop and die.” Anika mumbles, but backs down nevertheless; walking back to join Mindy dejectedly on the sidewalk.

Now, you guys are stuffed into Sam’s van, ready to take on the weirdo in the white mask once again.

Funny, this is giving me déjà vu.

But after Sam’s monologue last night, where the older carpenter had talked about sacrificing herself, it seemed to ignite a fire deep in you; one that still wanted to fight.

You know you’re not the only one who’s feeling this way.

One quick glance at the gang and you can tell everyone’s feeling motivated. You can only hope it lasts so long.

Well, everyone except Chad.

You contemplate reaching over and gripping his hand for support, but wonder if it’ll be weird because you haven’t exactly had the best relationship with him, but decide fuck it, we’re friends, and do it anyway. He sends you a nervous but supportive smile back.

Sitting still hurts. Any kind of movement only worsens the pain. It’s like the conversation with the paramedic opened your eyes because you can feel every little thing bothering you now.

By the time you guys get to the theater, your anxiety’s at an all-time high.

Beads of perfectly shaped droplets fall from your forehead at a rapid pace, and your heart feels like it’s up in your throat.

You push open the doors and try to quell your fears by acting brave. The facade disappears immediately when you see what’s in the theater.

You pale.

It’s a shrine. A goddamn shrine of Ghostface.

“Well isn’t this nice? Ghostface has a fan.” Tara mumbles, pushing past you to see further in.

Everyone slowly files in and looks around curiously, murmuring soundlessly between pairs.

You sway as you walk further in, head whirling. You stumble and hit a glass box, and you have to grip it to steady yourself.

You stare at Sam unloading the big black bag shed packed full of weapons from just last night, getting prepared.

It doesn’t help with the haziness. You need to get your mind off this shit…you need something. Your head drops to peer inside the glass box.

You think your heart literally stops when you see the collection of pictures, paintings, a summarized biography, and a bloody knife. A familiar photo makes your breath hitch.

Stu Macher : The Second Ever Ghostface

You blink. Try and steady your heartbeat by closing your eyes and sucking in a deep breath.

Just when you feel like you’re about to pass out, Tara steps up beside you, putting a hand on your back to help steady you.

“You okay?” She whispers, a concerned expression painting her features.

You look down at her, flash her a tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah.” You try and say with as much positivity as you can muster.

She sees right through it, frowning so big you’d think you’d just told her you were Ghostface.

“I know when you lie to me.” She says pointedly, pouting.

You sigh, it’s no use to lie.

“No, I’m not doing great currently, but that’s not our top priority here Tar.” You murmur softly.

She punches you in the arm, with all the power of a marshmallow bouncing off you and crosses her arms.

“It’s a priority to me.” She huffs.

You raise an eyebrow. Tara wasn’t one to give you words of affirmation, but whenever she would, she’d get adorably shy.

She’s not this time. She’s standing tall and sure of herself, staring at you like if she lets her eyes off you for even a second you’ll run away.

You contemplate telling her about what the paramedic said.

You should, you know that, but you don’t want to worry her more than she already is.

She’s tired too, you can tell. It shows through the dark circles beneath her eyes and the way her hair is just a little more ruffled than usual.

Tomorrow I will, you think. After all this is over.

You settle for wrapping your arms around her and whispering an I love you in her ear.

Tara stills, obviously surprised at your confession. It surprises you too. You guys had never really said it before, even though you’re sure the both of you felt it.

“Um..I’m sorry. It just sort of came out, you don’t need to say it back. I understand.” You say quickly, sheepishly.

Tara quells your fears with a kiss, full of passion and urgency.

It feels like it always does, so goddamn dreamy. Her and her kisses never fail to send you straight into cloud 9.

When you pull back, you’re a little dazed.

“Well…okay.” You say, smiling goofily.

Her expression matches yours, albeit a little more composed. Her red cheeks and neck don’t fool you though.

“I love you too….idiot.” She says, adding the last bit to help put her racing heart at ease.

You snicker and shake your head. Your eyes drop down to the box again, but you don’t feel nearly as bad anymore.

“Man, I’m related to that guy? He looks like an alien dog.” You whine, only sort of half joking.

Tara chuckles heartedly and pats your back softly.

“He kinda does.” She murmurs.

“What does that mean…are you saying I look like that too?” You question, eyes wide and piercing, trying to look intimidating. To Tara, you look like a lost puppy.

“I never said that.” She quips, smirking. She’s teasing you.

“Yeah, but you didn’t rebut me so I’m led to believe you agree.” You press, forming your lips into a pout.

She reaches out to try and wipe it away, but you tilt your head; trying to fight for some semblance of control here.

She tries again, leaning to grab your face and kiss you, but you swerve as quickly as possible, a small part of you a little sad at the act.

The part that wants you to win this “argument” is bigger though. And it takes control once again.

“Nuh-uh. No kisses until you admit I don’t look like an alien dog and that I’m actually mighty gorgeous.” You say, proud smile; sure you’ve won.

“Oh really?” Tara smirks, leaning back until her back is pressed against the box and your hands on both sides of her waist.

She calls your bluff. “I don’t think you’d be able to take it; not kissing me.”

You have to bite back a gulp at her boldness.

God this girl was going to be the death of you.

You challenge her, happy to have your beloved banter with your girlfriend back.

“Funny…I vaguely remember you being the one who couldn’t keep her hands

to herself for a second. And who was the one that was so impatient the first time we had sex she tripped over and landed face first into the mat?” You tease, watching Tara’s cheeks heat up.

“Hey! We promised not to talk about that.” She grumbles, disregarding her bet from 5 seconds ago and tilting up to meet your lips.

You smile against her lips, victorious.

When she sees it, she huffs slightly, mouth still connected to yours.

“Whatever.” She says, pulling back.

“Guys!” Sam’s voice booms through the theater, echoing a couple of times before fading out.

Creepy.

“Get over here! Safety in numbers, remember? Who knows where Ghostface is? For all we know, he’s already in here watching us.” She continues to yell, watching as you and Tara saunter over; hand in hand.

Her words send chills down your body, and you’re suddenly aware again of your beating heart.

You look behind Sam, seeing multiple Ghostface mannequins standing tall. It’s scary how much eeriness some pieces of fabric can create.

“Well, isn’t this a dainty place to be having our conversation?” You chuckle nervously, turning your head to the left, then the right; where you see nothing but all 9 Ghostface mannequins from the Stab franchise, or in this nightmare reality, real life.

“Can you just shut-“ Sam begins, obviously done with your bullshit attempts at lightening the mood.

The lights turn off in the theater all at once, leaving you guys in complete darkness; all stunned.

“Up.” Sam finishes, and you can already hear her feet start to shuffle as she looks and grabs around.

You feel her rough hands as she grabs at your wrist and pulls, too hard for your liking.

“Sam- Could you be a little gentler please?” You huff, trying to weasel your way out her grip.

“What are you talking about?” Sam voices, but it feels kind of far away from you. The grip around your hand suddenly feels weighted. “I’m not touching you Y/N.”

Before you can react, the hand is coming up to your mouth and pressing hard, muffling any sounds that’ll come out.

“YN? Baby? What’s going on?” Tara asks, worry seeping through her words.

You try and scream, or say anything, but the sound dies in your throat when you realize there’s something pressed against your nose.

It’s a cloth: a smelly one at that. You realize what it is immediately, all those true crime documentaries finally coming in handy. Chloroform.

The fumes are practically shoved up your nose, and you feel your knees buck underneath you.

Fuck, Tara.

You wiggle and thrash around, but nothing works, the chemical’s doing its job, because in the next second; you’re gone.

#tardy #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream vi #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #wednesday addams x reader

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halcyonfawn · 5 months

Text

the meaning behind "face the raven" theme in "wild blue yonder" and more

a continuation of this post. i need to talk about this otherwise i'll explode.

some people have also said that this theme is playing in "last christmas" and "hell bent" (thank you for pointing that out, i'm going to die) which makes it all even worse (better). therefore, this post is, more or less, destined to turn into capaldi's era brainrot. but not all of it, i promise.

you've been warned.

first of all, allow me to refresh your memory. let's look into the context of the scenes where we heard this music theme before.

"last christmas"

according to series 8 official soundtrack, this theme is a part of "every christmas is last christmas" and is heard quite clearly two times. they're both important scenes for the doctor and clara.

too late.

a moment full of regrets and nostalgia. the doctor thinking he's lost clara again, wishing he would have come back sooner. clara reminicing her life without the doctor in it.

"so no one matched up to danny, eh?" "there was one other man, but that would never have worked out." "why not?" "he was impossible."

it is (heavily) implied that "one other man" is the doctor. does the doctor himself realise that she's talking about him? open for interpretation. but what this small exchange truly does is showing a game of saying something without actually saying it.

"can you really see no difference in me?" "clara oswald, you will never look any different to me."

yet another way of dancing around words. there's something special and touching about this last line. it is sort of a confession of unconditional love. but the word itself - love - is never spoken out loud.

then again, twelfth might be face blind.

second chances.

now, this scene is a complete opposite of the one mentioned above. it's full of hope, anticipation, happiness. a beginning of a new arc. he is given a second chance and he takes it. the doctor asks clara to run away with him once again. and she says "yes" without hesitation, takes his hand, kisses him on the cheek.

conclusion? these two scenes are focused entirely on the doctor and clara's relationship. it is there to show their strong connection, how much they mean to one another. utter devastation at the thought of their time ending and the absolute joy of reuniting after being separated. a chance at a happy ending. which also makes the music that plays on the background their theme.

"face the raven"

"every christmas is last christmas" is now turned into "face the raven" and is asocciated with clara's death. it also makes the previous name even more heartwrenching since last christmas was literally clara and doctor's last hurrah. we can hear this piece of music appear in two scenes as well.

clara's monologue about facing the raven.

"if danny pink can do it so can i. die right. die like i mean it, face the raven. maybe this is what i wanted. maybe this is it. maybe this is why i kept running. maybe this is why i kept taking all those stupid risks, kept pushing it."

she's accepting her fate and aknowleges her recklesness all the way throught the season 9. it was meant to be. there wasn't enough space for two doctors in the tardis.

"i let you get reckless" "why? why shouldn't i be reckless? you're reckless all the bloody time! why can't i be like you?" "clara, there's nothing special about me. i'm nothing but less breakable than you. i should've taken care of you."

this scene is also about how a human life can be so very short compared to the time lord's and how easily it can end. it's fragile. and it's the doctor's curse: bearing the pain of losing his loved ones.

clara meeting her fate.

as she approaches the raven, ever so brave, the doctor watches her. he hears clara scream, then witness her collapsing onto the ground. it is extremely painful, but this is, i repeat, the doctor's curse: watching his companions leave. there's no use in running away from that pain, it haunts him every step of the way.

"hell bent"

next time, "face the raven" theme can be heard during the memory wipe sequence. there is no name given for the background music in this particular moment, but it's quite obvious it represents loss and... letting go?

the doctor is about to make clara forget their time together (does that ring a bell, anyone?).

it is worth pointing out that the music becomes the loudest at the exact moment the doctor says:

"look how far i went for fear of losing you. this has to stop. one of us has to go."

it is the culmination of their relationship. companions that push each other to extremes. together they might destroy the whole universe in order to keep each other safe. there's no other way but to separate. they've formed such a strong connection than one is ought to forget the other.

even though at first the doctor is determined to wipe clara's memories, he then admits she is right: it is unfair to take away all that wonderful time they had from her. so he gives her a choice. or, more like, an offer to play a russian roulette. it's either you or me. i'm not going to press that button. we will do this together.

to summarise: all of these moments featured a strong connection between clara and the doctor. it also tells us a story about how hard it is to lose someone you care about deeply, especially for the doctor.

how is it all connected to the doctor and donna?

memory wipe

the doctor has to make donna and clara forget about him in order to keep them safe. expect that he doesn't give donna a choice, wiping her memory almost instantly, without saying a proper goodbye to her. obviously, he didn't have enough time to think of a better way to solve the problem since donna wouldn't have lasted long. however, it is still a decision he regrets making.

from "the star beast":

"i'm so glad you're back, donna. it killed me, it killed me, it killed me."

if we take a look at clara's situation, it's a bit different. i've already mentioned it above: at first, the doctor wants to do the same thing to clara that he did to donna. make her forget. expect, this time he is confronted for doing so (even threatened, at some point).

"these have been the best years of my life and they're mine."

i think this line triggers something in the doctor. because this is when he realises that this is not the right thing to do. not exactly. he'd already done it once and he regretted it. so this time, he offers a slightly different solution. someone still has to forget, but they'll press that button together. it's a mutual choice.

now, i know it's not entirely related to the dialogue in "wild blue yonder", but i think it's worth mentioning that donna and clara's stories are somewhat similar. i'm sure it's been said before, but it's still important.

donna's story was incomplete because she wasn't given a choice. now, that she remembers, 14th doctor makes sure their time together is worth-while. a second chance just like in "last christams".

too alike

another similarity between these two stories is that clara and donna are not entirely humans. not anymore.

donna's half timelord. even though her head is still not big enough to fit all the doctor's memories, she still has a part of the doctor in her.

clara's frozen in time, that makes her practically immortal. she risks her life, she reverses the polarity of the neuroblock, she gets her own tardis, she's even reffered to as "clara who" at the end of "hell bent". she has become the doctor in a sense.

but there can only be one doctor. so where's the story heading to at this point, i wonder? but we'll come back to this question later.

"but what really happened?"

before i say anything, it is obvious that the doctor's silence before and after he says "a lot" is him reminicing all that'd happened to him during the 11th, 12th and 13th reincarnations. all of the loss and pain he went through.

but why "face the raven" theme of all things? it could be a general theme of grief/nostalgia/painful memories, nothing else implied.

but please let me be delusional for a bit longer!

just as that scene in "hell bent" brought the doctor back to the moment he made donna forget him, could it be that bringing back his best friend's memories in a whole universe that "he absolutely loves", also reminded him of another important person in his life with similar story? just like "hell bent" mirrored "the journey's end", "wild blue younder" gave us a reference to "hell bent".

this is where we get back to the question about the current story direction.

foreshadowing?

donna's story is not over. and there are a lot of possibilities how it can end.

say, there is a connection to clara's story here, i wonder if that's where the plot's heading. in one of the trailers, the doctor does say "i'm not sure if i can save you this time" to donna. and it worries me. then again, maybe they're just tricking us into thinking something bad will happen (oh the drama).

i'd say it's unlikely donna's going to die because that would be absolutely devastating after just bringing her back. at the very least, the ending wouldn't be completely "happily ever after". perhaps, sacrifices will be made in order to prevent something truly horrible from happening.

why did this face come back?

in "the girl who died" twelfth doctor finally realises why he got his face. it is a call-back to "the fires of pompei" (don't even get me started on its being the episode with 10th and donna).

the message the doctor was giving to himself turned out to be:

"i'm the doctor and i save people!"

but what is 14th trying to tell himself?

i think it's about donna and more.

he's fixing his mistake of erasing her memories and depriving her of the right to remember amazing things that'd happened to her.

it's a reminder to actually tell people how much they mean to him. as we can see, 14th's more open with his feelings and constantly shows signs of affection towards his loved ones, even breaking the "never say i love you" rule.

it's about being honest and open with people because they deserve to hear it from him and he deserves to hear it back. because "things happen and then it's too late".

again, take 12th doctor, for instance. he constantly represses his feelings. but in my humble opinion, the reason why he's changed by season 10 was clara. she pulled him out of the dark place. and even though her death almost threw him back to that state again, he is still a better man by season 10.

but there were things left unsaid. love and care were always there but it was never said out loud. kind of the same thing happened with 13th.

i strongly believe that donna is that person for 14th. they're best friends who love each other deeply. and after the doctor lost her and got a second chance to fix everything, he does, he's being affectione. he's finally open with his feelings.

conslusion: why did you make us read all fo this?

to answer the question in the title: it's all tied with how memories are important and priceless, fixing past mistakes, moving on and learning to treasure every moment with people you care about like it's your last.

it can also be a foreshadowing for something terrible, but i choose to hope for the better.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

aaaand that is the end of my doctor who rant. thank you for getting this far, if you did!

my feelings about all of this can be described with this one meme:

#doctor who #doctor who meta #dw #dw spoilers #wild blue yonder #twelfth doctor #fourteenth doctor #tenth doctor #donna noble #clara oswald #face the raven #last christmas #hell bent #twelveclara #whouffaldi #i'm sincerely sorry if you've stumbled across some stupid grammatical or other mistakes while reading #i wrote a part of this at 3am #[unhinged analysis]

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imaginesfordifferentfandoms · 8 months

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Not Leaving You

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Prompt - "You need to leave."

Requested - anon

The Doctor never said more about his past than he had to. Most of the people who travelled with him never asked too many questions, too caught up in the life that came with knowing the Doctor to ask about who he really was. When they did ask he gave them just enough to stop asking.

He didn’t know what was different about you. When you asked he found he didn’t mind sharing a part of himself with you, a part of himself that nobody else knew. He couldn’t say for sure why because it ached his hearts terribly to talk about a life long gone but it was a little bit easier with you at his side.

You were a curious thing too, he’d lost count of how many times he’d lost you, you wandering off, too distracted by something or other and ready with a million and one questions by the time the Doctor finally did find you.

He knew sooner or later you’d be curious about him too, once you found out he had two hearts that had taken up about a week’s worth of conversation, you asking questions about Time Lords and what else was different about them, not knowing that there were no more Time Lords out there and missing the sad look that the Doctor forced off his face.

He had taken you to a planet he had found many, many years ago, one that made his chest feel warm and a smile pull on his face as you repeated the name after him, the word Zirafell sounding as beautiful as the planet itself coming from your lips. He had never shown it to anyone before but there was something so extraordinarily different about you that he wanted to share all his hiding spots and secrets with you.

The two of you were sitting in the field, the TARDIS parked not too far away. The grass was littered with little pink and blue flowers and a lilac lake glistened under the two suns in front of you.

“Where are you from anyway?” You asked softly, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled between you causing the Doctor to look at you in surprise but you kept your gaze on the lake.

“Me? Oh nowhere really.” The Doctor answered after a few beats of silence, watching as a frown pulled at your face.

“Everyone’s from somewhere.” You told him, finally turning to face him and seeing the discomfort on his face. You wondered whether to push it but before you could decide the Doctor spoke again.

“Not me. Not anymore.” The Doctor sighed and you stayed silent for a moment, just looking at him.

His gaze was on something just passed your shoulder, refusing to look at you as his mind played memories from long before you could even imagine. You wanted to know what he was thinking about though, wanted to know what put that sort of look on a person's face.

“You could always go back home.” You told him, keeping your voice soft.

The Doctor looked back at you, a sad smile spreading across his face. You hadn’t seen that smile in a while, of course you’d seen it plenty when you’d first met him. A sad man sitting alone looking like his whole world had fallen apart around him and there was nothing he could do about it.

It took some time but eventually he told you about the people he’d lost and how travelling with him was dangerous. He had told you he’d take you home, that he’d understand if you wanted to leave but you just wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug, smiling into his chest when he gripped you tight.

“Not even I can do that.” The Doctor laughed softly, no amusement in it as he turned to look out at the lake. He never wanted to talk about it, about all that pain and suffering, about what he had done and yet sat here with you, he wanted you to know that sad, angry, lonely part of him.

“My home’s long gone, Y/N.” The Doctor said after a long silence where you had figured he wasn’t going to share anything with you. “It was a beautiful place, you’d have loved it. I’d love to have shown you. The Time Lords, my people, the universe was so much brighter with them in it. People would cheer when they saw one and now, now they’re gone, my planet’s gone.”

“What happened to it?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper as you looked at him, his eyes glazed over.

“There was a war.” He told you, swallowing around a lump in his throat. “It doesn’t matter, but nobody won that day. Nobody ever really wins I suppose. Everyone died. Everyone but me.”

When you first saw the Doctor, before you knew who he was, you just referred to him as the sad man. Watching him now you couldn’t think of a better way to describe him, the sad man, the sad man who was all alone in the universe, the sad man who had lived through the destruction of his whole planet, his whole race.

The sad man with a magical box who spent his life bringing hope everywhere he went.

“The last of the Time Lords.” You murmured, remembering what a woman from several months back had hissed to him, at the time the Doctor brushed it off when you asked questions, now you knew why.

“The last of the Time Lords.” The Doctor agreed just as quietly and neither of you said anything else, there was nothing left to say so you rested your head on his shoulder, his coming to rest on top of yours as the two of you stared ahead at the lilac water.

From that day onwards you and the Doctor were closer than ever, he shared more of his life with you and you found yourself falling a little bit more for the man as each day passed. It was a dangerous thing to do, falling in love with the Doctor and yet you let yourself fall, not bothering to question if he would catch you but enjoying the fall while it lasted.

You felt closer with the Doctor than you had with anyone you had known back home, not a single day went by where you regretted leaving, regretted choosing the Doctor over your old life. You knew you’d make the same choice over and over again. You could never give the Doctor up.

Months passed since that day, months where you and the Doctor would spend your nights floating through the galaxy, legs hanging over the TARDIS door as the Doctor told you about the different stars and planets that surrounded you with such fondness, months were he took your hand in yours and you couldn’t help but smile, savouring the feeling of his thumb running softly across the back of your hand as he pulled you along, tugging you back to him when you went to wander off. Months were you and the Doctor traded secrets in the quiet of the night, things that you’d never have dreamed of sharing with anyone else and yet knowing the whispered words were safe with each other.

“You’ll love this one, Y/N/N!” The Doctor told you with an excited grin on his face, hurrying you to put your coat on causing you to laugh before he finally grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the TARDIS, pausing long enough to lock the box before the two of you were off.

“Welcome to Thucruiruta.” The Doctor beamed at you and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you as you finally looked around.

The planet was beautiful, the sky was golden and all sorts of creatures were moving around you, so many things demanded your attention and the thing that won it was the Doctor squeezing your hand.

“It’s beautiful, Doctor.” You breathed out, watching as the Doctor’s grin softened and you didn’t even try and stop yourself from smiling back, leaning into him before letting him lead the way.

The Doctor was eager to show you everything, used to your curiosity and the hundreds of questions you came up with, more than happy to show off and answer them, making his way through the stands and insisting you try all the different foods on display.

It was hard to imagine such a perfect day taking a turn but you had also gotten used to trouble following the Doctor by now, so when an explosion sounded not too far in the distance you immediately turned to the Doctor, waiting for him to do something.

It didn’t take him more than a second to grab your hand, pulling you into the heart of the danger and you went along with him willingly. You knew you always would, you never gave it a second thought, you knew that you would always follow the Doctor no matter where he went.

You gasped as you took in the scene, people were scattered all over the floor, some crying out and others not moving at all. You gripped the Doctor’s hand in yours and he squeezed back before moving further into the chaos, looking around for some clue as to what had happened.

There was a child on the floor, a deep cut in their green skin as blue blood poured from it. You pulled your hand from the Doctor’s and made your way to the child’s side as the Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver out to try and find what had caused the explosion.

“You alright?” You asked softly, pulling your jacket off and using a sharp bit of rubble to rip the end of your shirt in lieu of a bandage.

“Hurts.” The kid whimpered and you gave her an encouraging smile, warning her it might sting as you tied the torn material around her arm as tightly as you could.

“Good job, that’ll be good until we can get you to your family.” You told her standing up and holding a hand out for her, pulling her up by her uninjured arm and looking around. “Where was your family?”

You watched as she pointed the way you had come from, away from where the explosion was and you glanced over your shoulder to see the Doctor glaring down at the sonic, a furious expression you couldn’t ever remember seeing on his face that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Come on then, let’s see if we can find them.” You said, pulling your gaze from the Doctor and forcing the uneasy feeling you suddenly felt in the pit of your stomach away, leading the young girl away from the scene.

Even in the sea of screams and shouts for friends and family you managed to find the young girl's family quite easily, her mum falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around her daughter, mindful of her arm after she winced.

You stayed long enough for the family to thank you tearfully and the girl to hug you before you pushed your way through the crowd and looked around for the Doctor, frowning when you couldn’t see him.

You made your way further into where the explosion had gone off, gasping when something sharp dug into your arm, looking to your left to see a tall figure beside you, sharp teeth visible as the thing grinned down at you and pushed you forward, dragging you alongside it and not even pausing as you fought back against it.

There was a slimy sort of wet texture to the creature and you couldn’t stop yourself from wincing as it’s nails drew blood from you, the thing snarling the whole time until it pushed you onto the floor and you were staring at sharper nails and blue feet, looking up to see more than a dozen of the things standing together.

“Let her go.” The Doctor’s voice sent a wave of relief through you and your head snapped around to look at him. “Now.”

The Doctor’s voice was cold, so devoid of any emotion that it scared you. The creatures, however, didn’t seem at all phased by him and instead laughed at the Doctor.

“The Doctor always was too fond of the humans.” One of the creatures laughed, sending a wave of spit flying from his mouth. “Too bad he can never save his precious little pets.”

That seemed to hit a nerve with the Doctor and you had heard the stories of his past companions, of how much danger they had been put in simply by being with him. You knew it was scarred on his two hearts, every loss, every defeat, every life lost, every life he blamed himself for.

“The Doctor’s not good at saving anybody.” Another one called, amusement clear in its voice, “Poor little Doctor, all alone, no Time Lords around anymore.”

The creatures all laughed together and you winced as you watched fury take over the Doctor. It seemed these creatures had history with the Doctor, at the very least they knew exactly what buttons to press to tear him apart.

The Doctor looked different, he didn’t look like the Doctor you had seen every day, he looked like a whole different person. Cold fury in his eyes, mouth set in a thin line and his knuckles bone white from the grip he had on the sonic.

“You will let her go and you will leave this planet.” The Doctor told them, voice low and commanding the attention of everyone.

You could only stare at him, fear in your eyes, not sure who you were more afraid of in that moment. Usually you could read the Doctor easily, always seeming to know what his next step was but right then, in that moment you didn’t know what he was going to do.

“Or what, Doctor?” One of them spat but you didn’t bother looking behind at them, keeping your gaze on the Doctor. “The last time we met you were a coward, what’s changed?”

“What’s changed?” He shot back, taking a step forward and you felt your breath catch in your throat at his tone. “What’s changed? The last time I showed you mercy. That was a mistake. I won’t make the same one twice. Now leave.”

“Or what?” It asked again, tone hard as the creatures refused to move.

“Or I’ll burn this entire planet with you on it.” The Doctor said without hesitation and your eyes widened, staring at him in shock.

“You wouldn’t, the Doctor wouldn’t harm innocents, not in the name of revenge.” One of them laughed but it sounded nervous, like it didn’t believe its own words and looking at the fury on the Doctor’s face you had to agree with it.

“Do you really want to test that theory?” The Doctor asked, the silence stretching as the creatures all looked at each other. “All I have to do is press this button and you’ll be dead before you realise it.”

The Doctor held the sonic up and you shook your head, not that he was looking at you but you couldn’t believe him. He wasn’t bluffing, he wasn’t improvising whilst he came up with a plan to deal with this without harming anybody. He was being deadly serious.

You were terrified of the man before you. He wasn’t the Doctor, not the Doctor you knew anyway.

“Liar!” A creature yelled and the Doctor gave it an unimpressed look before going to press the button but you stood up before he could.

“Don’t!” You shouted, reaching a hand out like one would around a scared animal, locking eyes with the Doctor for the first time since you’d been pushed onto the floor. “Don’t.”

“Y/N, you don’t know what these are.” The Doctor told you, his thumb hovering dangerously close to the button on the sonic.

“I don’t care. This isn’t you, you’re the Doctor! People look to you for hope, you’re not a murderer, don’t do this! Don’t become them.” You pleaded with him but his face was still set with cold fury and you feared there was no changing his mind.

“Get to the TARDIS and don’t look back.” He instructed and you immediately shook your head.

“No.” You told him. “No, I’m not letting you do this. There are millions of innocent people on this planet and you will not destroy them for whatever grudge you’re holding.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you need to leave. Now get on the TARDIS, Y/N!” The Doctor snapped and you felt tears sting your eyes but held your ground.

“No. If you’re going to burn this planet you’ll do it with me on it.” You said, voice shaking as tears made their way over your eyes, hating that you didn’t know what the Doctor was going to do.

“Get on the TARDIS.” The Doctor commanded through gritted teeth but you shook your head again.

“I already told you I’m not leaving.” You told him, blinking away the tears as they carried on running down your face.

The Doctor held your gaze, the small part of him that wasn’t consumed with anger and hatred felt guilt and hurt as you looked at him like you were terrified, like he was the monster instead of the creatures behind you.

“Leave.” He spat out, not taking his gaze of you as he addressed the creatures. “Get off this planet and if I ever see you again I won’t show a shred of mercy.”

The creatures wasted no time scurrying away, hurrying over to their ships and taking off just as quickly, leaving you and the Doctor staring at each other. Just as the Doctor opened his mouth, you cut him off.

“Take me home.” You told him, suddenly feeling drained.

“Y/N,” he sighed but you just shook your head at him, moving past him and making your way back towards where the TARDIS was parked, using your key to unlock the box and letting yourself in.

The Doctor sighed to himself, rubbing a hand across his face before pocketing the sonic and following after you, desperately trying to think how he could salvage this. He hadn’t wanted to let himself fall for you but over the year and the months you’d spent at each other’s side he couldn’t help it.

Now he was losing you because he had held onto a grudge from so many years back.

The anger had taken over him to the point he couldn’t control himself but you could, you stopped him even when he didn’t think he could be stopped.

When he walked into the TARDIS you were sitting in one of the chairs, looking away from him as he quietly worked on setting a course for Earth, hoping you would change your mind before you got there.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, watching you closely. He could tell you were listening but you didn’t say anything.

“Those creatures, Y/N…” He trailed off and you finally looked over at him, seeing him take a deep breath before he spoke again. “Those creatures are called Eelvo’s. I met them a long time ago, long before I had this face. I lost somebody because of them and I let them go.”

“You don’t kill people.” You told him, your voice quiet but firm and the Doctor sighed as he came and sat next to you.

“I have bad days, Y/N. Days where I am not a good man.” The Doctor told you, ashamed of himself, ashamed that you had seen him like that. He had never wanted that.

“Doctor, today I was more scared of you than any of those other things.” You said softly, glancing at the Doctor as he shut his eyes and swallowed thickly around a lump in his throat, fighting back tears.

The last thing he had ever wanted was for you to be scared of him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what happened, seeing them again after so long, seeing the destruction they were still causing, the pain and lives they were still taking…” The Doctor trailed off, a single tear making its way down his cheek.

You sighed softly, reaching over to take his hand in yours and giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You were still unsure, still hadn’t liked seeing the Doctor so furious but he was still the Doctor, he was your Doctor again and seeing him in pain was the last thing you wanted.

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N, I never wanted you to hate me.” He whispered, his voice breaking around the words and you felt your heart break with them.

“I don’t hate you, Doctor.” You told him honestly, “I’ve never seen you like that and I didn’t like it but I don’t hate you. I’m not sure I could ever hate you.”

The Doctor smiled over at you sadly and you returned it, squeezing his hand again.

“I’ll take you home.” He whispered and you frowned, you had asked him to take you home but the thought of actually leaving the Doctor behind sent an ache through you.

“How about Zirafell instead?” You asked him, a small smile pulling at your lips as he looked over at you in surprise.

“You sure?” He asked, a hopeful note in his voice and you nodded, watching as his shoulders lost the tension in them and he let out a small breath, nodding himself before standing up and moving around the console to change the course, hoping that the two of you would be alright.

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