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luveline · 9 months

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Hi there! I hope your day’s been going well :)

Could you maybe write something with Spencer where Reader faints? Feel free to ignore this if you’re not up for it!!

thank u for ur request! fem!reader, 1.6k

"It's so hot," you say, startled. The lobby of the hotel had been blissfully air-conditioned. The difference hits you immediately.

"Don't worry about blazers or professional attire," Hotch says, though he quickly amends, "within reason."

You take off your jacket and follow the herd of the BAU into the black SUVs. The SUVs are even hotter than the outdoors, blistering ovens of heat that have you feeling nauseous instantaneously. Spencer rubs your arm with the back of his hand swiftly —it's a friendly touch to say he's here, but it's quick to prevent any unnecessary added heat.

It's August in Texas, 107 degrees Fahrenheit. Emily smells distinctly of sunscreen from the front passenger seat. Derek, behind the wheel, looks hot around the collar. Spencer looks as though he wishes he'd had a haircut before he came, chin length curls tucked tight behind his ears.

Despite this, none of them complain beyond the general whine every now and then. You try very hard to shut up and focus on the case with them, but as the day goes on, bumping you from hot car to hot crime scene (with all inclusive smells of gore!), you feel wobbly on your feet.

"Spence?" you ask, sitting in a hard-backed chair in the police precinct.

"Yeah?" He doesn't look away from the geographical profile he's building. You're supposed to be helping, but your notes are half-hearted, likely useless. "What?"

"Do you have any water?"

He pushes a pin into the left of the map and grabs a ruler. "No, sorry. There's a staff room by the bullpen, the secretary said to help ourselves. Actually, she said to 'go ham.'"

"Okay. I'll be right back. And I'll be more helpful."

"You're plenty helpful," he murmurs, leaning down to follow the line of his rules with a pencil.

You don't feel helpful, you feel awful. Head heavy, eyes aching, every step sends a jolt through your teeth and jaw, your skull like a mashed potato. You know you're a poor sight with sweat wetting your hair and a crawling sensation between your legs and the fabric of your pants.

Letting yourself into the staff room, you're unsurprised to find a bone dry water cooler and a crate of water bottles with only one remaining. Spencer needs a drink too, and he has a thing about germs. You frown at the water bottle as though that might duplicate it, but when it doesn't, you're forced to take it and put it under your arm. You look around for a mug to at least have some tap water no matter how ill-advised that may be. They're all dirtied in the sink and on tables. Fuck.

Spencer is super, super lovely to you. You wonder sometimes if he might ask you out, or at least want to, but most of the time you're sure it's just a little extra friendliness because he knows how it feels to be the youngest on the team, how patronised or lonely it gets. And the weight of trying to prove yourself every mission, it's almost as heavy as your head.

"Hey," Spencer says as you open the conference room door. "I think I've worked something out. Could you call Garcia for me? I've got dry-erase marker on my hands."

"Got this for you," you say, offering him the bottle. He takes it without looking.

"Thanks. Are you feeling any better? I know you can be sensitive to the heat."

"Maybe we can get portable fans on the FBI budget next year," you say wistfully, pushing a chair in at the table. You lean on it to grab the phone in the middle of a sea of papers and cases and jackets, black spots popping up in your vision. "My head's rushing."

"Hey, guys," Emily says, sounding strangely chipper as she and Hotch trudge in. Her hair is in a tight ponytail away from her face.

You try to greet them and end up hanging your head.

"Y/N," Spencer chokes, alarmed.

You slump forward over the chair, desperate to keep your footing and failing. Your shin knocks into the chair and your hands grasp at the top of it, but you can't hold yourself up any longer, knocking your face into the chair as you collapse. A cheap tent in a strong breeze, you fall with little more than a weak sigh.

You're hurting a lot when you come to, blinking like your lashes have been brushed with glue. The lights have been turned off, and a blissful chill soaks your hairline. Someone presses a water bottle to your lips and lifts your head. You drink half the contents in three gulps and get laid down again with the utmost care.

"She's coming around," Hotch says.

Your neck aches propped over a leg. Two deft hands hold your head still.

"Don't move too much," Spencer says, his voice odd. You blink as his face moves into view upside down. "An EMT is on the way, okay? You passed out."

You can't find your voice. Spencer strokes your cheek with his thumb, says, "Hey, can you hear me? Let's hear your voice. Talk to me."

"You don't sound like yourself," you say hoarsely, each word tenuous. You wince at the bruising heat that radiates from your nose with each word.

"I'm worried about you," Spencer admits. "It makes it hard to stay objective."

"No, you sound funny."

"I'm worried," he repeats. His smile is strained.

"She's okay," Hotch says.

You realise Emily's got your hand in hers when she squeezes it. "Have you had anything to drink today?" she asks you, fondly incredulous.

"No, she hasn't, and I didn't say anything about it. I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry, Y/N," Spencer says.

"Y/N's responsible for her own preservation, Reid. And it's been a tough case, with the heat. Let's not blame anyone for anything." You press your chin to your chest to see Hotch's anxious frown. "We will be having a discussion about this later."

You turn your face into Spencer's thigh. "Oh."

"Don't close your eyes," Hotch says. He employs a firm, boss-like tone that has you rushing to follow orders. "You hit your head."

"I don't feel well," you complain, wanting to close your eyes.

"Considering your behaviour," Spencer says, one of his hands trailing down your face, neck, and collar, where he rests it genially, "you likely have a mild to moderate concussion. And you're dehydrated, so you'll be feeling the effects more severely."

"Why haven't you been drinking?" Emily asks.

"I just…" You blink sluggishly. "I don't know… We don't take anything that isn't coffee with us places and…" You lean your cheek into Spencer's hand, not quite connecting that it's his hand, or that you're laying on the precinct floor. "They only had one bottle in the staff room."

"Why didn't you drink it?" Spencer asks softly.

"I knew you hadn't had anything to drink, either."

"We could've shared," he says, sounding genuinely confused.

"You don't like sharing stuff like that. Germs."

Spencer's voice is barely above a whisper, "I wouldn't care about your germs, Y/N. They're your germs."

You don't have time to ask him what he means, but you've ample time to think about it on loop when the EMT arrives. He props you up, checking you over thoroughly, shining a light in your eyes and deeming you concussed.

"You don't have to see a doctor," the EMT advises. "But we're happy to take you to the hospital if that's what you want."

"Yes," Spencer says, as you say, "No."

Spencer puts a hand on your shoulder blade. It is an extremely forward move on his part, so unlike him that you recognise how odd it is despite your foggy mind. "She should go."

"She fainted, Spencer," Emily says.

"Exactly! So she should go to the hospital and–"

"I didn't break anything," you say, waving a shaky hand at the small but concerned crowd of people you've attracted.

"Luckily," the EMT says. "Drink plenty of water and take it easy. Don't be afraid to call again if you feel worse."

Hotch walks the EMT out, needing to take a phone call. Emily goes with him, promising to return with a dry shirt for you to wear now that yours has been soaked at the collar by the water they'd been cooling you down with while you were unconscious.

Spencer settles practically knee to knee with you in two of the uncomfortable chairs, his assessing gaze frankly perturbing.

"You'd share germs with me?" you ask.

Spencer's hand leaps across the gap to yours where it rests on your knee. His eyes, brown and sweet, have all the light of a blinding smile as his lips quirk into something more sheepish. "If it stopped you from fainting, yeah. And even if it didn't, I'd be stupid to care about germs when I…"

You breathe out slowly. "When you what?"

"Well," he says, looking down at your hands. "I guess I just wouldn't mind your germs, that's all."

If he's saying what you think he's saying, he's doing it in the most Spencer Reid way possible. Concussed, your charisma fails you. You've no wit to tease him with.

You fold your hand around his. "Thanks for catching me," you say gently.

He squeezes your fingers clumsily. "You're welcome. But it was actually mostly Emily."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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dead-dove-yandere · 2 months

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OC Intro - ╹◡╹

Secret Admirer Yandere

??? ♡ ??? ♡ Human? ♡ Office Worker

TW: Stalking, obsession, delusional behaviour, threats, mention of a blade, implied kidnapping/murder

♡ - You’re an office worker - it’s not your ideal job, but it pays the bills. You keep your work life strictly separate from the rest of your life, always keeping your head down and focusing on the task at hand rather than talking to any of your colleagues, but not working hard enough to get noticed for a promotion. You don’t plan to stick around in this career after all.

♡ - Any of your coworkers shouldn’t have known much about you at all. To be honest, you didn’t know much about any of them anyway. You were perfectly happy just blending into the background.

♡ - But, one Monday morning, as you near your desk, you notice something unusual. Pasted right on the corner of your computer monitor, sits a post it note. At first you assume someone missed you and wanted to leave a reminder for some kind of memo or meeting, but reading it sends a shiver down your spine.

♡ - “Have a wonderful day at work, honey. ╹◡╹”

♡ - You stare at the message on the yellow post it, written in red biro, trying to fathom who it’s from. You assume someone must have left it on the wrong desk by mistake, and throw the post it away.

♡ - The post its don’t stop though. Everyday you come to your desk and see a new one, all with similar cutesy messages, all signed off with that smiley face.

♡ - “Make sure to drink plenty of water! ╹◡╹”

♡ - “You look amazing today, honey. ╹◡╹”

♡ - “I miss you so much! ╹◡╹”

♡ - On Friday, you get sick of it. You go around, asking all your coworkers if their partners have perhaps got the wrong desk, but no one seems to recognise the handwriting.

♡ - Giving it up as a bad job, you decide to talk to HR about it once Monday rolls around again.

♡ - The weekend comes as a bit of relief, but it doesn’t last long.

♡ - Monday inevitably arrives, and again, there is a post it note on your desk. You do a quick tour of the office, hoping to perhaps catch the culprit, but everyone has yellow post it notes on their desk - there is no way to tell who it is from.

♡ - You go to HR, but there is little they can do for you without any knowledge or proof of who is leaving them. Deflated, you go back to your desk and work, trying to focus but unable to.

♡ - When Friday rolls around again, the note reads differently than usual.

♡ - “You seemed stressed, honey. Let me take you out tonight - my treat. Meet me at 7, at that restaurant we both like. Wear something nice. ╹◡╹”

♡ - You haven’t a clue what restaurant they mean, and even if you did, there is no way in hell you are going with some stranger that seems to have some strange one sided love for you. You crumple the note in frustration and throw it away, as you have with all the other post it notes.

♡ - Monday arrives again, but this time instead of a note, it seems there is a letter.

♡ - it’s written on the standard issue memo paper found anywhere around the office. It seems crumpled and tear stained. Whoever is writing them seems to have switched from a red biro to a red ink pen, but the ink seems oddly dark and brown.

♡ - “Honey. I waited for you all night. You never showed. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? How humiliating it was to be sobbing in the middle of the restaurant? I came back here at the weekend and found all my love notes for you in your bin. Why are you so cruel? Did I do something wrong? Do you not love me anymore? You’re coming home tonight. I let you stay at your own place long enough, I know new couples need time before moving in together but this has gone too far. You haven’t even visited or called or texted once. Come home. We have some serious discussion to do. ╹︵╹”

♡ - You can’t bring yourself to get any work done, you can’t bring yourself to eat, you can’t even bring yourself to try and tell HR again. You stand up and do another lap of the office, carefully examining everyone’s faces, trying to work out who might have sent this damned letter, but you can’t tell. You haven’t even the faintest idea.

♡ - You eye all your coworkers with suspicion, until finally you can’t take it anymore and hide in the toilets. You stay there, frightened to leave, right up until it’s time to clock out, and even then, it takes you a long time to work up the courage to leave.

♡ - When you finally get out, the office is empty. There is no one else there, apart from you. You find the darkened cubicles eerie, yet you breathe a sigh of relief anyway. Surely that must mean the note writer is gone too? You run out into the car park, making a mad dash for it, then stop short just as your car comes into view.

♡ - It’s covered in post it notes of varying colours, each one scrawled in that weird red ink. Some are angry, others plead for your forgiveness or return. Every single one is wet with tear stains.

♡ - You freeze. You have to call the police - you’ve let this go one long enough. You take a step back, ready to run back to the office and hole yourself up until the police arrive, only to stop when you feel a knife against your back and hear a voice you don’t recognise.

♡ - “Oh honey, you aren’t getting away with this that easily…”

Personality

The most mysterious of all, “Smiley” (╹◡╹) hasn’t quite seemed to grasp that it wouldn’t be obvious to their darling who they are. In their eyes, they’re already with their darling, and their tactics are less trying to get close to their daring and moreso engaging in what they think is cute couple behaviour. When their darling ignores or dismisses their bids for attention? Well, hell hath no fury like a lover scorned. It’s probably too late for their darling by the time they finally see the face of their admirer.

Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post

#yancore #yandere #yandere fic #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #oc intro #yandere imagines #gender neutral reader #gender neutral yandere #yandere drabble #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc intro #yandere oc #gender neutral yandere oc #male yandere #female yandere #Smiley #Story #Meet Cute

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lady-charinette · 1 year

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Boople, I sent that ask at the start of October, which is why I asked if tumblr was eating asks again, but I've kinda given up since you don't seem to be getting what I send TT__TT

OMG AT THE START OF OCTOBER?? T_T I'm so sorry, I browsed through all my asks again but didn't find any others from you, ugh I wonder why Tumblr glitches so often on asks (apparently some other people sent me asks but I also didn't receive those).

#boop #boop anon #chatty charinette #ask #im sorry about this boople it always makes me so sad when I realize tumblr ate your asks #you really make my day whenever i do get your sweet messages so thank you very much for those!!#i hope you still have a nice and stress free day #make sure to rest and drink plenty of water

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imaginesmai · 2 months

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Missed target - Azriel

Here it is! So many people asked to be tagged on this I got OVERWHELMED. Thanks for the love!I'm thinking about a second part where Azriel decides to repeat all the missed efforts and treat you like the queen you are. Let me know what you think.

Plot: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.

The Suriel 1

The Suriel watched the shadowsinger sharpen his blades in the forest, oblivious to his presence. Not even his shadows could detect the ancient creature, and he was proud of that. Of all the beings that he had seen, all the people that had summoned him, Azriel was who drew his curiosity.

Maybe the male in front of him didn’t remember, or maybe he did but had decided not to tell a soul about it. The Suriel did remember, and he had been observing since that night where a young, scarred and devasted Azriel had summoned him.

“What is wrong with me? Why does nobody love me? I want to know – I want to know if someone will love me, please”

The child didn’t understand what a Suriel was, or what type of questions he could answer. Still, the Suriel held the sobbing kid for one night, just one night, and let himself wonder what would it be to feel, to dream, like fae and humans did.

Something changed in the male’s stance, a muscle twitching in his left wing, and the Suriel knew he didn’t have much time left before he was noticed. He risked another glance at the unmoving figure, shadows surrounding the clearing where he stood.

As he vanished from the sight, the Suriel smiled briefly, oddly happy that that kid’s broken questions were about to be answered.

Missed date

Azriel liked Elain, more than he should. He liked her innocence, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, her full lips and thin waist. He liked the dresses she wore and the flowers she grew, even the way her voice sounded when she said his name. He liked liked her, and felt like a foolish teen when she was around.

Rhysand had warned him against it, and the Archeron sister had a mate – but still, Azriel hoped Elain would like him back. Even though he had been with plenty of women before, that time it felt different, and he didn’t know why.

Ignoring the signs against his desires, he had decided to act on his feelings.

Azriel had invited Elain to have dinner with him that night, in a lovely restaurant in Velaris. Sure, he might have said Cassian and Nesta were coming, and then proceeded to invite the couple knowing they wouldn’t even make it out of the bedroom with their clothes on. The plan had gone just fine – Cassian and Nesta had talked about it during lunch time, giving the impression it was just a friendly dinner, and then proceeded to lock themselves in their room for the rest of the day. Elain had smiled and asked about the hour, and Azriel had chosen his best shirt.

But the Cauldron musth have had other plans, because another minute passed by and he was sitting by himself in the restaurant, getting strange looks from the staff.

“Are you ready to order?”

He looked up to the waiter, with a tight smile on his face. Azriel guessed they were debating if kicking him out was worth angering the spymaster of the court.

“Still waiting” he grumbled, looking to the closed doors. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty, sir. Would you like to… drink something?”

“Water is fine”

They had agreed to meet at nine, and part of him refused to think he had been stood up. That sweet, charming Elain who blushed under his gaze wouldn’t show up. He tried to come up with a reason behind her absence, and was sure there was a reasonable one, but he felt his excitement die as the clock ticked away.

Azriel pursed his lips when the waiter didn’t leave, not meeting his eyes. He would leave, but he would wait a little longer. For her sake, he would wait until the sun came up. The male cleared his throat and Azriel stared at the plants decorating the entrance.

It was a nice plant.

“Is the person you’re waiting for coming soon?”

“If she was, I wouldn’t be waiting here” his words were bitter, not towards the waiter, but at the situation.

“Maybe you could move to the counter and wait there, sir? I… there are customers waiting and – “

Before the man could dig his own grave further, Azriel pushed his chair back and walked towards said counter with his jacket on his arm. He refused to look at the waiter and let him know just how embarrassed he was, how disappointed in himself and in her.

The restaurant had a small counter where some couples shared their food and friends drank loudly. He damned his luck for choosing the busiest day to be stood up. Scanning the crowd, he found an empty seat at the corner and sat on a stool, ordering a beer.

Alcohol would only make it worse, but he guessed he was already done for. Ten more minutes, he promised himself. If Elain didn’t walk through those doors in the next ten minutes, he would leave and apologize to Rhys for his stubbornness.

Two minutes passed by, and he grew sick of watching the couple in front of him giggling in secrets.

Another three, and he counted each plant that decorated the restaurant. There were twenty-five without the artificial ones.

Seven minutes after his first beer, the waiter asked him if he wanted anything else and he just growled back.

His fingers were clenching painfully around the hem of his jacket when the ten minutes passed by. He was ready to get up when something sweet and floral hit his nose, leaving his mind blank for a second. Azriel blinked surprised at the smell, distinct from the elegant ones in the restaurant. With half smile, he turned to his right hoping to see Elain, pleasantly surprised with her choice of perfume.

Only that the woman who sat next to him wasn’t Elain, but another fae woman with a similar smell. Azriel scanned her outfit before you noticed him, before he could reprimand himself for checking you out.

You were wearing a loose blue and bright skirt with an elegant top, that left part of your collarbone visible. He felt something rush to his chest up to his cheeks while he stared at the smooth skin, and he willed himself to look up to your face.

“Guess this is where they discard the stood up, hm?” you looked at him and he blinked surprised. “I’ve been sitting next to the window for an hour now. I don’t think he’s showing up”

“Who?” Azriel asked dumbly, not thinking anything better.

“My friend set me up on a blind date, but he didn’t show up. At least the bread was good” you shrugged, finally looking away from Azriel. “Hi. Can I get a soda?”

Azriel felt his previous resolution of leaving the restaurant dissolve. You smelt just like her, but so different at the same time. Your voice still reverberated on his chest as you waited for your drink, stealing glances at the silent male at your side. It was strange for him to have his throat swallowing back the words that he wanted to say, have his mind blank of any comeback.

But as he stared at you, he wondered if you were a witch and had casted a spell on him.

“Are you… my date?” you finally asked when your soda came back, looking him up and down. “I’ve seen you standing here for a while”

“I’m Azriel”

“I don’t know the name of my date” you stated, and Azriel just prayed that you wouldn’t notice the shadows he couldn’t control revolving around your feet. “I’m Y/N”

“No”

He begged himself to say something else, to break the awkward silence or leave. After all, he had gone to that restaurant to meet Elain, not a stranger who had been stood up. But all the wit and intelligence that had won him the title of Shadowsinger and Spymaster seemed to seep away through his pores, and he couldn’t get back any of it.

You smiled at him tightly and turned to look around, finally breaking eye contact. Azriel got up without saying anything else and walked towards the doors, leaving a generous amount of money on the counter. You didn’t say goodbye and he didn’t bother looking back, his body stiff with your awkward encounter.

When he arrived to the house, he found a very regretful and very sick Elain who had been in bed all afternoon. She apologized again and again until he forced her back in bed and tucked her in. They agreed they would repeat again, sometime, but Azriel found himself less excited than that morning. He didn’t blame her – he couldn’t, when he had seen how her knees trembled with coughs and had heard her stuffy voice.

As he laid down that night in this enormous bed, his shadows didn’t whisper about Elain or brought back her smell, that most nights didn’t let him sleep. They caressed his hands in silence, with the memory of a sweet, floral smell that didn’t belong to the girl he liked.

The market

Rhysand and Cassian were away for a week, and while Azriel usually missed his brothers, that time he was beyond himself. Not only he wouldn’t be hearing Nesta and Cassian’s late-night activities, but he would be alone with his favorite Archeron sister, since Feyre and Nesta had decided to leave too.

There were plans for them, big ideas that he had crafted the previous night as he laid awake in the dark. The first one, most important, would be to find an excuse to talk to Elain.

She had left for the market as Azriel completed his morning training, and the male didn’t miss how she blushed at his presence. She had explained briefly her plans to him and had left in a rush. Azriel, who religiously trained each day, decided to postpone his activities and refill the house’s pantry.

It took him a while to come up with something to buy, even longer to gather the courage to follow his plan. By the time he was walking through the lively market-street, he was certain Elain would be leaving.

But he was lucky, because he spotted the familiar head a few stands away. Azriel felt the usual acceleration of his heart rhythm, the blood rushing to his head. His wings fluttered and he walked with little decision to where Elain was buying some fruits.

It seemed, with so little decision, that she moved away before he could reach him.

The game of cat and mouse continued for what felt like forever, Azriel only sniffling her before she left to a new stand. The street seemed endless, and the buyers too talkative and pushy. They bumped against his wings, apologized, and proceeded to block his way in awe for five to ten seconds.

When he saw Elain holding enough bags to cause him a backpain, he decided pushing people in return was worthy and walked faster.

Before she could complain, he picked up her bags from her arms carefully, resisting the urge of flinching at how heavy they were.

“Here, let me” Azriel extended his free arm, watching without looking up as it filled slowly with more bags. “These are heavy. What do we need so much food for?”

“Are you planning to eat it with me?”

Azriel looked up and stared into a pair of bright eyes that certainly weren’t Elain’s. Nor was your hair pulled back in a ribbon, or the worn-out cape hanging from your frame. His shadows helpfully recognized you from the missed date and awkward encounter, and he blinked surprised.

He opened and closed his mouth. Proudly, he could argue that only few times someone managed to make him speechless. But he didn’t find anything to say as he held half of your bags, looking a caught thief.

Your smile lowered at his surprise. Surely, you expected a kind stranger helping you with your heavy groceries, not him. Just as he didn’t expect you.

“Can I… have that back?” you asked when he didn’t move, only stared at you. “Please?”

The standard, cordial reaction would have been to apologize and carry the bags for you. If Azriel’s brain hadn’t stopped functioning, he would have explained he had confused you with someone else and would be on his merry way to find Elain.

But his heart wouldn’t stop beating stubbornly against his chest, loudly on his ears. His shadows, that you had noticed by now, were tangling themselves between your knees, holding part of the weight themselves.

He tried not to make it too obvious when he inhaled your essence, so characteristically nice. Instead of doing any of the rational things, he dropped your bags to the ground with a loud crack and a wet splash and turned around, disappearing into the crowd.

The flowers

Feyre had given him the directions, and he had quickly written them on a piece of paper as his high-lady prepared Nyx’s bottle, cradled the fussy baby and ate her own breakfast.

He was extremely thankful for her help, because she had also had the idea to give Elain a bouquet of flowers. Azriel felt bad about ignoring her for the two days they were alone, too busy trying to regain what was left of his dignity after the market. So, he had prepared the flowers and put them together with a blue ribbon, and had asked Feyre where Elain was staying.

He had walked through the streets of Velaris with a content smile, humming to himself in silence. His shadows were active that morning, dancing between his feet and knees, and tangling themselves in the flowers. He couldn’t explain the sudden urge of joy if not for the imminent encounter with Elain, who had been on his mind for two days straight.

The rays of sun warmed his cheeks, and he felt extremely lucky.

It only took him ten minutes to reach his destination, a busy street in the center of the town. People sneaked glances at him and whispered, as if he wouldn’t hear them. Azriel stopped in front of a white wooden door. It looked old and worn, and matched the pots with flowers on the window. It was a cozy house, exactly what Azriel had imagined Elain’s house to be.

She had moved out a few months ago, claiming she needed her own space. And he had yet to visit her place – which, once he realized he was about to do it for the first time, made him kind of nervous.

Azriel stood in front of the door, his frame covering the whole space. Between his shoulders and wings he shadowed it, and he felt weirdly insecure. Something fell to the ground inside, probably a bag, and even though he knew Elain would be inside, Azriel recoiled back.

In a pathetic attempt to make his intention known, he raised his fist.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Don’t throw them on her like a burning pot.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Try to smile without looking creepy.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

He heard soft humming from the inside, and the fact that it was the exact same melody he had been humming on his way there threatened to give him a heart attack. Before he could think better, he quickly searched his pocket for a pen while trashing for the tag of the bouquet.

In the meantime, he heard the humming coming closer and closer to the door. It was a sweet melody, one he had loved since he was a kid, that brought a selfish smile to his face. Who was the world to tell him they weren’t meant to be, if their minds aligned like that?

Azriel found the pen and, leaning against the brick wall, scribbled down a quick note on the tag. His handwritten was shaky, not neat nor perfect, and he felt a bead of sweat rolling down the corner of his neck.

Once he was finished, he tucked the tag between the stems and placed the bouquet delicately on the ground. He mentally kicked himself at his stupidity, and when he rose back, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

He was the shadowsinger. The spymaster. People feared him, respected him, and he had had enough women in his bed to know he could get them. They liked him, men and women, and he had never had an issue before. And there he was, leaving a bouquet of flowers like a coward because he couldn’t knock.

All because of the stupid melody.

His impulsive thoughts won again and he crouched to write down his name at the bottom of the note. Only having his good luck ran out and knock his head against a pot when he rose back up. Azriel cursed under his breath at the sharp pain, but wasn’t fast enough to catch the pot.

He didn’t know what worried him most – that he was sad because the humming stopped, or that it stopped. Azriel didn’t need his fae hearing or shadows to hear the approaching steps, and he quickly retreated into the darkness. Just as he appeared in the other corner of the streets, hidden from the public’s eye, the door opened.

“Hello?”

Azriel let his lips part in surprise when Elain didn’t peer at the street, but you. The stranger with a memorizing smell that had been stood up. The girl whose bags he had dropped in the middle of the street.

You were wearing a stained apron, and had been clearly cooking. Azriel felt the sudden need to know what. What you were doing that made you look like that, that made Azriel’s rebellious heart jump.

He watched as you looked to both sides of the street, smiling to acquittances and finally noticing the bouquet. Your eyebrows almost rose to your hairline and an adorable shade of pink covered your chest. You quickly covered your mouth, but Azriel’s bones reverberated at the sound of your giggle. He found himself wondering if you were curling your toes in your shoes.

Leaning down, you picked the flowers and Azriel’s stupid smile, that had no right to be on his face, dropped.

He had signed it.

Your eyes scanned the tag and read through his words at a sickening speed. Sorry about last week, hope I wasn’t too much of a dick. Yours, Azriel

His shadows swallowed him before he could ask the Cauldron to dig a hole and swallowed him, but he could still see your content smile and have the utter and complete realization that your smile shadowed Elain’s.

The dance

“When have you ever cleaned up so nice?” Cassian asked him as he invaded his room, with no warning.

“Whenever you’re not around to see it” he answered back, not tearing his eyes away from his tie’s knot on the mirror. “So I don’t eclipse you”

Cassian scoffed and threw himself on the perfectly made bed. Azriel didn’t bother asking him to move, because while any other time he would have kicked him out, his bed was the farthest point from his work desk. Where, between patrol reports and court’s correspondence, were a month’s worth of letters between you two.

His hands trembled even more at the thought of his brother finding about it. He was already nervous enough at the premise of dancing with Elain tonight, at the thought of her wearing the bracelet he had sent her that matched his tie. Azriel didn’t need to think about the pointless, certainly not important letters that he shared with you.

“Nesta has kicked me out of our room” the male proclaimed. “She’s determinated to get to the ball on time. As if me not seeing her now would change our early departure”

“You’re disgusting” Azriel met his brother’s stare through the mirror.

“And you’re jealous. When was the last time you got laid?” Cassian raised her eyebrows suggestibly. “Anyone in mind for this particularly night?”

“Nesta, if you leave her unsatisfied”

“Can it be me if I’m unsatisfied?”

Cassian’s laugh boomed through the room and took Azriel’s mind out of the last hours’ frenzy. He had wanted to be excited, had been thinking about Feyre’s birthday ball for months now. Thinking about how Elain and him would dance, proving Rhysand that they were a match and should be together.

Indeed, Azriel had been excited about it until a month ago. When he found himself cutting his encounters with Elain short when a note came through, falling asleep with thoughts of a different woman on his mind.

He hadn’t seen you since the incident of the flowers, and his intention was to never see you again. But then, he had found a note on his training room, delivered by Nuala. I’m glad we both agree you were a dick that day, but if my forgiveness has you loosing nights of sleep, I forgive you. Although, for the next time, don’t be disappearing from a crime scene – those flowers were expensive.

Azriel had found it and had scoffed a laugh, a sound foreign to his ears. He had replied and had sent Nuala back to your house, with an apologetic smile.

Seems that I keep encountering you when I don’t mean to. Those flowers were for someone else, but I’m happy to hear that I will be sleeping soundly from now on. Sorry for your pot. If it makes you feel better, fate was my witness and gifted me with a nasty bump.

Two notes evolved to another two, then to four more, and suddenly, Azriel found himself sending you noted almost every day, sharing stupid facts and reading about your day.

“Is it because Elain?”

The mood was broken and shattered at the word of the fae, and Azriel finished his knot to turn and look at Cassian.

“Don’t judge me. I’m not Rhys ‘don’t you dare to touch my sis-in-law’ or Mor ‘bad choices are made’” Cassian lifted his arms slightly. “I’m just curious”

“Am I cleaning up nice for my high-lady and friend’s birthday ball? Yes, unlike you, I do care about having a clean presence” he looked down to his jacket. “Your shirt is stained with Nesta’s lipstick”

“Oh, I plan to let her stain more than my shirt” he chuckled.

Azriel rolled his eyes and turned towards the door without saying anything else.

He walked with Cassian through the long hallways until they reached the main hall, talking about training and pointless topics. The usual knot on his stomach loosened a bit when he was with him, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud. He knew Cassian only looked for him in those social events for his sake – because he knew how much Azriel struggled with the attention, with the looks.

For the first minutes, he stood by his side silently as Cassian greeted different people that Azriel didn’t want to talk with. He engaged short conversations with his family, laughed softly at Mor’s attempt of escaping with the wine, and entertained Nyx briefly.

He kept looking at the main doors, waiting for Elain to walk through so he could regain that excitement, that want, that seemed to seep through his fingers lately.

When the first dance started, Rhysand took Feyre’s hand and dragged her through the floor, looking like a regius couple. Mor took a giggling Nyx in her arms and danced in the corner, and Cassian used the opportunity to sneak with Nesta.

Azriel quickly found himself in the middle of dancing couples, and he swore the knot of his tie got tighter. He looked around for Elain, tried to identify her sweet smell or long hair, but he didn’t find her.

“She’s not coming, you know?” Amren’s voice appeared to her right, and he turned to find her leaning against a wall.

“Who’s not coming?”

“Elain” she explained. “She left yesterday with Lucien to get to know his court. Thought you, of all people, should know”

Had he been so out of it that he hadn’t notice it? Had he tried so hard to think about her that he hadn’t talked to her? He tried to think of a conversation where Elain told him that she wouldn’t be assisting, but he realized that he hadn’t talked to her in the last few days.

Actually, he had just sent the bracelet and guessed she would wear it. Part of his excitement wore down at the news, and he regretted agreeing to the ball.

Amren raised a brow at his fallen expression.

“Are you still after her, boy? Knowing she has a mate?” she inquired. “Thought you were smarter than that”

“You don’t understand. None of you do” he said, trying to sound angry. Trying to sound convinced, as convinced as he had been when he met her, but his voice sounded deflected.

“Maybe we don’t, but don’t fool yourself thinking the Cauldron makes mistakes. You’re not above its power”

Azriel scoffed at the answer he had heard before too many times, and faced away from Amren. She could try to convince him all she wanted, but his mind was up. As he walked out of the room, evading dancing couples, he forced the disappointment down his chest, where most of his feelings lay forgotten.

Of course she wouldn’t come. Of course, all those glances meant she was nervous around him, not reciprocated feelings. Of course, someone like Azriel wouldn’t end up with someone like her.

He loosened his tie briefly as he exited the ball, only to stop close to the entrance. He looked back at his family, dancing happily in the main floor. Even Amren, who didn’t dance, talked with a content half-smile to Varian, who had attended in behalf of his court.

Through all his centuries, all he had wanted was to have someone to dance with. To hold while the world fell apart, not to endure it on his own. Azriel felt a rebel knot climb to his throat, making the sight in front of him blurry.

Like a fool, he had thought Elain would be that person. After Mor, he thought he had found his person. Azriel looked once more to the ball before hastily turning around and colliding full force with a person entering the ball.

“Damnit!”

“Careful – “

Azriel didn’t get to stop the body falling to the ground, and he almost fell right above it. He gathered his footing back before he could cause more damage, and looked down to the incomer.

Something in his chest cracked when he saw the color of the dress pooling in the ground, the same one he wore on his loosened tie. The exact same color in the bracelet now forgotten in Elain’s room, that he had chosen so carefully and thoughtfully. He blinked past the initial shock and muttered an apologetic smile, offering his hand.

His eyes traveled up the wrinkled but beautiful dress to an exposed cleavage adorned with a simple blue gem. He didn’t register the similarities with his own siphons when his eyes met yours, both widened at the same time.

Centuries of waiting, of uncertainty, were suddenly nothing when the bond snapped loud in his soul. It rattled his bones and threatened to send him to the ground too.

“Y/N” he whispered, the room around him quietened. It was the first time he said your name out loud, and it felt divine on his lips. “What…?”

“Hm, Feyre’s birthday” you accepted his hand and let him pull you up, and he almost sent you crashing against his chest. “She invited me”

“That’s good”

Your eyes didn’t leave his for a while, as the bond settled for the two of you. Something had called you when you saw that dress, hanging beautifully in the window’s shop. You never wore that color, never attended to those parties. But the premise of seeing the owner of the notes you had been receiving lately, who your friends were tired of hearing about, was too appealing.

Somehow, buying that dress, coming late to the ball because of pointless delays, felt like a trick of fate.

“The bond” Azriel supplied uselessly, and you nodded for moral support way too enthusiastically.

“Yeah. It’s… here” you pressed your free hand against your chest, squeezing the one trapped in Azriel’s warm grip. “I didn’t think it would feel like this”

“It feels right”

Azriel couldn’t explain what had been missing until now. A void that had lived for so long in a place he couldn’t reach that now pulsated loudly where he needed it. He expected to be nervous, to be overjoyed, but above all of that, Azriel felt calm. At peace with himself as he stared into your eyes.

Time didn’t exist and the rest of the world was insignificant, only you mattered. And he could have spent an eternity looking at you if you hadn’t taken the first step and hugged him. If he thought the snapping bond was intense, your body against him robbed his breath.

His hand moved by itself to the back of your head, fingers tangling between your locks and pressing your face closer to him. The other arm rounded your waist, until you both belonged together like one soul.

The song ended and you looked up from his arms. With a small smile, you looked down at the loosened tie.

“Would you like to dance?”

Azriel nodded quickly and turned his back to the exit, your hand in his. People stared, his family looked at him, but all he could see was how blind he had been not to notice you were what was missing.

The Suriel 2

In the busy morning, few people stopped to see what lurked in the shadows of Velaris. They walked and rushed to their meeting points, talked with friends and families in the corners, and enjoyed the sunny day in the square. They all held interesting stories, futures that the Suriel fed on.

But he didn’t look at any of them. Only at the male standing a few feet away from him. He was sure his shadows had noticed him by now, that they knew his scent and presence, but decided not to warn his master. After all, he was no threat, just a mere spectator of fate.

The shadowsinger seemed to doubt between two books from a stand. He was oblivious to the world around him, but the Suriel knew. He noticed how he had changed in just five months, how not only his scent screamed a mating bond but also his soul. The way he stood, walked, talked.

As if the world didn’t own him anything else, as if he was finally the main character of his story.

The tall, dangerous male picked up the thicker book and paid for it with a small smile. He asked the woman in charge of the stand for a blue ribbon and tied the bag with it. Azriel turned around and distanced himself from the Suriel, not noticing his looming presence. But as he got farther and farther away from him, the Suriel was pleasantly surprised to notice shadows gathering at his feet, curious but not aggressive.

He showed them a terrifying smile, all teeth and cruelty – and still, they only brushed the torn parts of his cape in silent gratitude.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend

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@kayjayjwrites , @phoenix666stuff , @lupinswolfsbanes , @bionic-donut , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @favsrachz , @dwlyniii , @mischiefmanagers , @sassybluebird , @saltedcoffeescotch , @andrewgarfield2022 , @leeknows-wife , @marscardigan , @celear , @sstrohma , @pricklepearbloom , @blackgirlmagicforever , @emiliasdump , @erencvlt , @that-one-little-soybean , @meshellexplosionmurder , @atrxidxs , @feyretopia , @sidthedollface2 , @littlelunatica , @historygeekqueen, @ash-mcj , @haileycannotcometothephonern , @thesunloveschips , @meritxellao , @impossibelle , @kalulakunundrum , @nebarious , @cullenswife , @emryb , @sandramalikstyles-blog

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arieslost · 1 month

Note

hi love! hope you’re having a great day. could you write something where the reader is oscar sisters best friend? thanks for reading my message!

anon YES! i loved writing this.

best friend’s brother | op81

your best friend never told you that her older brother was off limits, but she never said he wasn’t, either.

that still didn’t stop you from catching feelings for him, and you’d rather die than go up to her and say, “hey, i’m in love with oscar, is it okay if we date?” mostly because now you know oscar wants you too, and to be honest, it’s kind of fun keeping it a secret.

you saw him about as much as his family did— most of the time he was away for work, but the next race was his home one, and he arrived a week early. you, of course, being his sister’s best friend, practically lived at the piastri house half the time, and ended up being there for his homecoming. the side hug he’d given you was expected, but the wink he sent your way when he started climbing the stairs to his room was not.

you replayed that moment over and over in your head for the rest of the day, until eventually you found yourself struggling to sleep and decided to go down to the kitchen for some water.

silently slipping out of the guest room, you were careful to tread lightly down the stairwell, avoiding all the creaky spots with practiced ease. you didn’t want to wake anyone up, most of all the object of all the thoughts that were keeping you awake.

though, all your effort was for naught when you saw that the overhead sink light was on in the kitchen, and none other than oscar himself was quietly getting ice out of the freezer. his hair looked unbelievably soft and slightly messy, like he was running his hands through it. he was wearing an older looking pair of gray joggers, and worst of all, he wasn’t wearing a shirt. you’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times, but one look was all it took to notice that he had most definitely filled out since you last saw him.

your mind was screaming at you to abort mission, abort mission, because you couldn’t be alone with him when he’s half naked like this, but when you shifted to make your retreat, you stepped on the wrong floorboard. it groaned obnoxiously loudly, and your eyes met oscar’s.

“can’t sleep?”

you shook your head. “uh-uh. figured i’d get a drink and see if that helps.”

“ah, we had the same idea then.” he smiled softly. “sit down, i’ll get it for you.”

“thanks, oz.” the childhood nickname slipped easily from your lips as you crossed the kitchen and lifted yourself up onto the counter nearest to him. “having a good season so far?”

“yeah, pretty good. good progression with the car, almost got a podium last race.”

“i know,” you said, looking down at your lap when he raised his eyebrows at you. “i watched.”

he hummed, handing you a glass and holding his own up. “cheers.”

you clinked your glass against his and took a sip before putting it to the side. “no teasing remarks?”

“nah, i think it’s cute.” he grinned, taking another drink and setting his own glass down. “my number one fangirl.”

“and there it is,” you rolled your eyes, though his quiet laughter was infectious and you couldn’t help joining in. “i’m your sister’s best friend, obviously i’m gonna watch.”

“and it has nothing to do with me?” he asked with a faux pout, flattening a palm right next to you on the counter so he could lean a bit closer.

“do you want it to?” you rested your hand inches away from his and closed the gap between the two of you a little.

“i think it already does.” his other hand slid between your thighs and forced them apart so he could move into the new space and effectively cage you to where you sat on the counter. “y’know, i almost kissed you in front of everyone earlier.”

“why didn’t you?” you whispered, eyes fluttering when his nose brushed yours.

“wanted it to happen when we were alone.” you could practically feel his lips against your own when he spoke, but you also really wanted him to make the first move.

running on the pure adrenaline stemming from your close proximity to the man you want more than anything in the world, you ran your palms over the back of his hands, up his forearms, past his biceps, and settled them on his bare shoulders. “oz…”

“yeah,” he replied, like he knew everything you were trying to say, before he finally closed the distance between you.

immediately, you knew you were addicted to kissing him. the way his mouth moved against yours, the way he wrapped your legs around his hips and held your knees to keep them there, the way he sighed when your fingers slid into his hair. you no longer wanted anything more than you wanted to keep kissing him even after all the breath left your lungs.

he took his time kissing you, keeping everything slow, soft, and gentle. there was no tongue, no teeth, no desperation. if either of you felt anything, it was relief.

finally.

it’s the first thing you said when you broke apart, causing him to smile before pulling you right back in. he kissed you again, and again, until your lips were swollen and you heard someone move around upstairs, breaking you out of your lovestruck trance.

“i’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered as you slid off the counter, reaching down and tangling your fingers with his and giving your hand a squeeze.

a squeeze that promises subtle glances across the table at breakfast, fleeting touches in the stairwell, and many more late night kisses.

word count: 957

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: i got very creative with the title (not). i can’t believe i’ve never thought to write this before!!! omg this was so delicious.

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

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dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever

#aries answers #anon <3 #request #blurb #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #op81 x reader #op81 x you #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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paper-mario-wiki · 1 month

Note

I'm sending you an ask even though I'm not sure I should. I envy you, I think. You seem so happy and confident after transition and I really like to see it, but it also stirs a kind of grief in me that I don't really know how to handle. I'm six foot six and as wide across the shoulders as some people are tall and I have absolutely no hope of looking like anything other than a masculine linebacker. I'm trying to learn how to like it, going for a bear look, but some part of me sees a happiness in you that I don't think I can ever really have. none of this is your fault and though i know it's weird I hope you can still read this as a compliment because I do like seeing that even if it's not something I can do, sometimes people can end up happy with their gender. I think you're a beautiful person and I like seeing your online presence.

sorry for the big ramble wall I'm just going through it tonight. I guess I just wanted to say thanks for being visible.

i am 6 foot 1, and throughout my life people told me i'd make a good football player.

here are the lifestyle things i did (that dont really have anything to do with gender and were just healthy changes and experiments) that let me stumble into getting over this feeling easier:

eliminate soda entirely. no more soda at all. not with fast food, not out of a can from the fridge, none. drink water. its sooooooo fucking yummy.

walk around plenty every day. in circles if you have to. put on headphones, or a speaker if you're inside. listen to music or some books or talk to your dog or your plants or yourself or record a podcast or something, but just make sure you're walking around. the form this comes in for me is walking around outside with my dog for 40 minutes, 3 to 5 times a day depending on how shes feeling.

put on some eyeliner. you dont have to shave or put on a full face of makeup or nothin. just go to the supermarket's generic makeup aisle and get any old 8-dollar eyeliner. nobody's gonna see, you're just trying somethin out in the privacy of your bathroom.

learn to make your hair look nice. it's an often neglected but very important part of your overall silhouette.

pay attention to how you're dressing. are you putting on clothing that you actively enjoy wearing, or do you throw on comfortable pants and baggy tshirt with a design you like? an easy start for this is jackets. theres SO many dope vintage jackets on ebay and in thrift stores, that's how i started experimenting with making something i'd consider a "wardrobe" and not just "clothes".

give this some time and see how you feel. pay attention to how your body feels. if you feel lighter, or like walking around becomes less of a burden, try shaving your beard, and then try on the eyeliner again.

even a bear can become dainty, if they actively seek it out.

#anon

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batterygarden · 13 days

Text

trapped in a bomb shelter with your big bro naoya

cw: big bro! naoya x fem & afab! reader, dead dove do not eat, misogyny! (and it's my kink so it's not like.. refuted), mild degradation (naoya calls u dumb), but naoya's sweet too, depression and nihilism, masturbation (both of u), sorta dubcon (tagged), fingering, and light mentions of: p in v, somno, cunnilingus, bondage, cowgirl, humiliation kink (on you), naoya being possessive, 1.7 k words

18+, minors don't interact

It’s surprising when the attack is announced how quickly Naoya moves to grab you. The gears in your mind haven’t even processed the news—that doomsday is upon you—by the time your brother has you snatched up in his arms and he’s running.

Most of the clan’s away at a local festival—a whole kilometer’s walk from the great zenin estate and the bomb shelter your esteemed (and wealthy) clan head installed. You and Naoya are the only ones to make it in time.

Naoya has never been the warmest big brother. In fact, there have been plenty of times where you thought you hated him. But at the end of the day you know he cares for you—even if it’s in his twisted, roundabout way. Still, enough that you were his first and only priority to shove into the little bunker beneath your estate surprised you a bit.

You aren’t sure Naoya thought his decision out—you know he didn’t have time to properly. The way he rushed to your room and scooped you in his arms, no pit stops before locking the thick bunker door closed behind him—before anyone else had the chance to join. It ended up being for the best, explosions outside were heard only too shortly after—still, you hope he doesn’t regret it.

You’re nearing day 10 inside your small shelter, and if the shaking ground and dire radio warnings Naoya managed to pick up are any indicator—the world outside isn’t going to be inhabitable again for a while.

Naoya is handling things better than expected. He’s thrown himself to small tasks—keeping the mind sharp he calls it. He’s less grumpy than he could be—resilient. Honestly the one lacking in mental fortitude is you.

“You can’t just sit there watching me do push ups. You need to move around too, dummy.”

“Nii-san im starting to lose the point.”

“The point?”

“I don’t understand why anything matters anymore if we’re all that’s left.”

He wipes sweat from his brow, glaring at you while he drinks some water.

“You just said it. Things still matter because we are still here. Eventually outside will be safe again and we’ll get out and start over. Don’t get all stupid and weepy in the meantime.”

You try to stay occupied, you try to do as Naoya says, but still, you struggle. Spending day after monotonous day trapped in here, you can’t help but start to get depressed.

Then one day Naoya says he needs to touch himself.

And there’s no room for you to avoid him while he does. You’re uncomfortable—-giving him a look that conveys it. But he insists he has to.

“I’m a man. Don’t be dense.”

Before you know it his cock is out and he’s fisting it at a leisurely pace, leaning back on the bed with his other hand. You face away from him, trying and failing to focus on rereading your book. But then he says your name, and when you look he’s still exposed and hard, but he beckons for you to come closer. He isn’t satisfied with your closeness till you’re sitting beside him on the bed.

He’s still stroking himself slowly when he says: “You need this, too. Touch yourself.”

You freeze for a minute then shake your head. Is this some kind of test? It’s shameful…

“Saving yourself for marriage doesn’t matter anymore if we’re all that’s left. You’re practically mine now anyways, since our entire clan is obliterated. It’s just me ‘n you.”

...You need to collect your thoughts. In the first place… you’re unsure how far you could get away with disobeying your big brother. He’s been somewhat softer in the shelter, better behaved than he was outside, at least. But you haven’t forgotten the way he used to act when he didn’t get his way… conniving and nasty—you’ve witnessed his wrath more times than you can count. Notably, though, It wasn’t ever pointed at you—his attitude towards his little sister has only ever been mischievous at worst. He’d simply mock and pick apart, invade your personal space and mess up your hair—though you’re sure he’d have been much worse if you didn’t go out of your way to be inoffensive. All in all, a hard no from you now would be a first inside the shelter.

Then there’s the honest truth of the matter: he’s right. Naoya may as well be the last person on earth for all you know, and you have been going crazy with hormones and neediness—but too afraid to touch yourself with no alone time. It’s a week after your period so you’re pretty sure you’re ovulating, and Naoya’s been walking around shirtless, acting just as touchy as always, but kinder than usual—and it’s not like he’s unattractive.

It’s sick that you’re even considering it. Touching yourself at your brother’s command—you’re a daughter of a distinguished clan! Maybe this little bunker truly is making you crazy…

In the end, the same idea that’s been infecting your mind constantly post doomsday wins out: nothing matters anymore anyways.

That thought is how you justify laying back on the bed beside your brother, stripped of your robes and spread-legged, two fingers pumping in and out of your pussy while you buck against your palm.

Naoya’s sharp eyes watch from beside you, never missing a thing while he continues stroking his cock. You’re so relieved to be giving your pussy attention after so long, you don’t even dwell on how messed up it all is.

After a while of trying to cum but barely reaching that special spot inside you to do so, Naoya can’t take watching anymore.

“My sweet sister, how old are you, again? You can’t even make yourself cum?” Naoya tucks his hard-on in the waistband of his pants, focusing entirely on you.

The mattress squeaks as he scoots closer, large hand around your ankle to spread you wider for his gaze.

You stop pumping your fingers, giving him a slow stare. He frowns. “No, no, keep trying. Let me see what’s the matter.”

So you do, working yourself up while you and Naoya watch each other, humping your palm when you get close again. You whine, biting your lip while you brush against the part inside you that feels best. Still, it’s not enough. You’re on the edge of tears searching for that release when—

“Okay, stop, sweet thing. You clearly need a man to do this.”

You pant while you look up at him, remembering what exactly is going on here when you pull your messy fingers away. It only makes you wetter when you think of the nastiness of it all.

“Nii-san?”

It shouldn’t surprise you when his fingers replace yours, but it does, Naoya’s warm touch with no warning earning a little jump.

He doesn’t comment, only sets to work with his middle and ring finger sinking deep into your hole, curling right where you need them but couldn’t reach yourself, pressing his thumb to your clit at the same time.

It feels heavenly. So good you almost close your eyes, but you can’t somehow. You wouldn’t want to lose a glimpse of Naoya—his eyes are transfixing.

And, like always, Naoya watches you back.

His expression while he does is patient and relaxed in a way that reminds you of when he helped you with homework or something as a kid. Patient and bored if you ever struggled or needed help—like he always had low expectations for you. You suppose that’s why he had so much more patience for you than he did for other family members—your shortcomings were at times endearing while those he thought were supposed to be strong had stricter standards.

Ultimately, an inability to make yourself cum seems like something Naoya expected of you.

And he wasn’t lying about his ability to help—his bigger fingers fit inside you just where you need them, and it takes your brother only minutes to earn your release, clamping down on him while you make a mess on the bed, crying out and arching—after edging for so long the orgasm lasts what feels like forever.

Noaya fucks you after that. He may as well, he tells you—he still needs to get off and it’ll feel good for you this way too. And he’s right, he may as well. It’s the end of the world and your brother may as well fuck you. And of course his cock feels amazing—it manages to feel like a solace in this bunker where nothing matters.

After that day, miraculously, you start to perk up. Naoya figured out the key to your depression, the key to keeping you occupied—it’s sex. Everyday your big brother fucks you and every day you get better.

Things stay interesting because when you’re fucking every day—you experiment. Or at least, Naoya does—he’s the creative one between the two of you, you’re just along for the ride.

You wake up in knots of rope one morning with Naoya’s tongue between your legs—you’re in the middle of an orgasm. He splits you open on his cock afterwards for good measure. He lets you ride him another day, something you’re fairly sure he’s never let a woman do. You cockwarm him while the two of you read a book at the same time—it’s silly. He’s kept you tied up almost an entire day before, doing whatever he wanted, exposed and embarrassed. You’re his little cock sleeve of a sister, he says.

“You know I’m actually glad that at least this way, stuck in here, no other clan can have you. They wouldn’t deserve you as a wife, not one of them. It’s a silver lining—this way, you’re all mine.”

#naoya x reader #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #naoya zenin x reader #naoya fic #naoya smut #jjk fic #naoya zenin fic #tw.incest #tw.dubcon #tw.misogyny #tw.degradation #tw.somnophilia #🐞 writes

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honey-milk-depresso · 3 months

Note

Hello! May I request Diasomnia boys dealing a very sick S/O? Like they will get sick every month. High fever, vomiting, headaches, blocked nose, sore throat, you name it and they have had that illness before. And they're also very behind on their studies because of this.

I had a friend like that too, and she’s currently in another school but we still talk to each other once in a while. This might be a little bit of my own experience mix in this so hopefully it doesn’t sound weird :”))

Diasomnia looking after a really sick s/o

Malleus Draconia

The smallest of a little sneeze from his precious child of man already makes him panic. Seeing you bed-bound with a runny nose, sore throat and headache, he’s getting an actual heart attack.

How can one be so frail??? Malleus might offered casting long lasting healing spell, or try making an elixir to make you permanently well again that no sickness can touch you no longer. But even you think it’s a bit too much when he elaborates how hard it is to find all the damn ingredients.

But Malleus is insistent. “It’s alright, my dear. I will scour the whole continents to find each ingredient.”

After much convincing from you, he reluctantly agreed to just help make simple, healing potions that can last you for a few days before you need to consume them again from him.

He might also consult Lilia on what he should do to entertain you while your bed-bound, and I swear to the SEVENS that he will bring his whole violin as entertainment while having many other brass instruments playing a whole orchestra of soothing music for you like you’re royalty or something like-

He might’ve also consulted with Silver for help and he told Malleus that you probably only wanted his company. To talk to him while you’re stuck in bed for a while until the potion boils finish so that’s what Malleus do. It’s rather peaceful just sitting there and talking to you quietly. It makes his heart feel at ease and he hopes he makes you feel at peace too. <3

Lilia Vanrouge

He’s experienced in taking care of sick people because he had young Malleus and Silver, so he’s pretty much equip to look after you.

Although Lilia has never quite experienced someone who can REALLY get sick and stay sick for a long time, he’s up for the challenge if it means to care for you. You’re his S/o after all!

Lilia is actually really good! He knows how to make the bed super comfy for you to sleep in, his voice always soothes and calms you down, he always remind you to take your meds and drink lots of water while you’re at it. Maybe he’ll ask Malleus to make you a potion to cure your sickness for a while or do it himself!

Just errr…. Don’t eat his cooking because, well, we all know how ominous it looks. And tastes.

Lilia has the habit of reading bedtime stories to you, mostly because he did that for Silver and Malleus when they were younger and he projects that action into you to comfort and soothe you while you’re sick. After all, you won’t feel better if you’re heart isn’t at ease, either.

When you finally fall asleep, Lilia smiles softly before kissing your forehead, sitting on the chair beside you bed and watch over you. <3

Silver

He panics a little, but the first thing he’ll tell you is to get lots of good rest and sleep.

He also tries to mimic what Lilia would do when he was sick during his younger days: singing you a lullaby, try reading bedtime stories (although he might fall asleep halfway), reminding you to take your meds and drink plenty of water.

Silver may also seek Malleus help in making a potion that could help you recover for a while or even lend one of Lilia’s storybooks to help you.

Would stay around you to be company while you’re bedridden, even if he gets sleepy and tired he’ll never leave your side or stop taking care of you.

Might’ve also tried to cook for you, but he only cooks soup because he doesn’t really know what else he can do. He just hopes it can make you feel better at least.

While you rest in bed, Silver, although succumbing to falling asleep, still holds your hand while you rest as both of you fall into a deep slumber together. <3

Sebek Zigvolt

Panicking beyond belief. How can one be so fragile and sickly?! He can hardly believe it and he doesn’t know what to do when you are bed-bound. The smallest sneeze of you already has him all over you with concern, so with your really sick nature, he’s practically made it a point to just be in your life now. Like he shares with you.

Initially, Sebek might’ve come off a little bit insensitive, saying how you should exercise more or something to build up a better immunity system. However, Lilia taught him otherwise to put you first. He knows the boy cares about you so he’s helping him show care in better ways.

He learns to cook soup, pray to Malleus for help in making a potion for your sickness (which the latter helped obviously), might’ve also pulled off the “I WILL TRAVEL THE WORLD FOR THE RARE POTION INGREDIENTS TO CURE YOU FOR GOOD” thing like Malleus which you have to keep on insisting for him to, I don’t know, not be stupid to get himself killed and he RELUCTANTLY listens to you.

He watches over you despite being tired and despite him not being the most lovey dovey or romantic boyfriend out there, you know he cares about you, maybe much more than you know. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

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thewriterg · 1 year

Text

𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞

paring(s): Miles Morales x fem!reader, Miles morales x spidey!reader

summary: you were two months pregnant and it was only a matter of time before you had to stop hiding the child growing inside you and tell your boyfriend miles little did you know he has his own surprise for you as well

word count: 1.3k

request: Hi, can I ask for a, Miles Morales x pregnant reader please. Where reader is pregnant with Miles baby. She doesn't know how to tell him because she is skared that he's going to leave her and the baby. She doesn't realize that he knows and that he can hear the baby's heartbeat and not just hers. Just the rest love and fluf please. You can write the rest however you want. If you can do this thank you, if not that is ok.

warning(s): pregnancy, some tears, hormones, kisses, pet names, just a pinch of perinatal depression, I’m thinking this can be college-ish set, pet names, fluff, drinking while pregnant (a glass of wine is okay!), and language

A/n:—GIFs; @dailymilesmorales— I had to set my little angst whore brain aside for this and kept rewriting to make sure it was more happy than sad

Miles watched You in awe as you lied in bed staring at the feeling you were glowing under the late sunlight that seeped through the curtains of your shared bedroom Your was shiny, your nails were growing out, and your skin

that damn skin

“Hey love, I’m gonna go out on patrol for a little while” Miles had brought himself to your side of the bed down on both knees to get down to eye level with you as you let out a small breath before replying

“Okay, I’m sorry I can’t go with you” You felt beyond guilty for lying to your boyfriend this long he’d been taking up your shifts to patrol the city and holding you tight when you needed the comfort

What you had been telling him hadn’t necessarily been a lie you were feeling sick and the running to the bathroom every morning at the crack of dawn for the past two weeks was enough to prove it but you weren’t really telling him or anyone for that matter the full story

“Don’t apologize, ill be back soon okay?” Miles reassured you with that warm smile of his pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose as you nodded and soon enough the brunette was out the door on the way to protect the city

You finally decided to get up heading to your bathroom as you ducked to the cabinets level pushing aside the cleaning supplies and razors to wear two individually wrapped pregnancy test lied flat

You had already took some plenty actually that had all gave you the same results in someway

Two pink lines

or a

blue positive

You unwrapped them both carefully making sure not to tamper with anything even though deep down you knew it was true and that you were pregnant

You sat on the toilet as you went through the process you had many times before as you found yourself staring at the wall waiting as the timer on your phone silently ticked away the remaining time left

You would be more than overjoyed if you didn’t have the voice in the back of your head taunting and chastising you for even hoping Miles would stay with you and raise your baby together why would he you’ve been together merely four years your anniversary was three months from now

Or it would’ve been. Your little family would’ve been something breathtakingly beautiful.

You stared at yourself in the mirror a hand over your belly you weren’t showing but nonetheless it was a little version of you growing inside it and it made your heart squeeze in your chest

You slipped off your clothes and turned the knob to the hot water of your shower to sweep your thoughts clean you would tell Miles when he got back from patrol and would take care of your baby on your own if it came down to it

💌💌💌💌

Miles didn’t know what to do.

It was around two to three weeks ago that he heard something out of the ordinary, way out the ordinary.

He was lying next to your sleeping figure with an arm thrown across your hip draping over your stomach when he heard little rhythmic beats in the drums of his ears usually yours sounded more… lively and vibrant these ones were soft and dainty

Miles listened a little harder and he could hear both beats at the same time lively, vibrant, soft and dainty finally the realization had took his breath away

He was going to be a dad

you were going to be a mom

you had a family

Miles was so close to waking you up to engulf you whole and prepare kisses around your face but he settled you must have been tired carrying around the news of having a child growing inside you and maybe you wanted to surprise him he didn’t want to ruin that for you or himself so he waited

And waited

Now it was two weeks later and Miles was still trying to let you tell you on your own he tried to gently encourage you with warm smiles and checking up on you more than he usually would to the point where he thought it was overbearing

The only reason the man knew you were aware is when he offered you a glass of wine your favorite wine and all you did was take a sip leaving the cup deserted

The only reason Miles would confront you tonight is because he was simply worried for you and the baby’s health you hadn’t been to the doctor and the brunette didn’t want to wait too long to go

So he swung to the corner shop leaving with a dozen of white roses and some of your favorite snacks you enjoyed in a bag waiting to get home to you

💌💌💌💌

You sat on the couch your leg bouncing up and down in anticipation as you waited for your boyfriend to come back home you had six pregnancy test on tucked under your thigh playing with your hands in your lap

You finally heard the window beside you as you watched your boyfriend climb through the window of your home his suit skin tight on his body book bag residing on his back

you would miss seeing him like this

“Hey… how was patrol?” You questioned timidly and Miles would be lying if he said he weren’t surprised to see you out of bed

“Hi lovie it was good, calm surprisingly.” The boy responded as he sat on the couch next to you sliding the straps of his bad off his shoulders

“I got something for you”

You both chuckled at your in sync comment as you nodded for Miles to continue he didn’t speak he just reached in his bag before pulling out a bouquet of white roses and some of your favorite snack you had been eating on the last few weeks

“Thank you baby, your so thoughtful” The lump in your throat was more prominent that ever as you zoomed in on the feeling of the plastic test under your thigh

“Now what’s my surp-” Miles sentence was cut short as you shoved the test in his lap some facing up some facing down all of the saying the same result that you were pregnant

“I’m pregnant two months, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but I-I was scared and I’m still scared and it’s okay if you want to leave I can do it by myself and-” This time you were cut short of your sobbing speech as Miles held your face In his hands his heart practically ripped in his chest as you sniffled heavy trying to keep your tears in your eyes for him to break up with you

“Oh sweetheart, im not going anywhere you hear me? I’m so glad you told me baby I’m so proud of you and I can’t wait to raise our baby together” Miles shushed you as you sobbed harder face pressed against his shoulder his suit soaking up your tears

“I’m so sorry it took me so long” You sniffled and Miles hugged you close rubbing small soothing circles on your back

“I’m just glad you told me okay? I’m so glad you told me baby” The brunette whispered running a hand over your hair smoothing it out as you began to fall asleep in his warm embrace

Miles would choose another day to tell you that he knew all this time but for now he would settle with holding you close in his arms and rubbing your belly

He held his world in his hands

#miles molares #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spider man x y/n #spider man x you #romance #fluff #fem!reader #the avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x you #i love you #thewriterg #2023

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ametrictonofaudacity · 10 months

Note

Hi! I love your blog so much. I was hoping you could write what yandere!batfam would do if the reader just barricaded themselves in a room and does everything to make sure batfam can't get in. I hope you have a great day and drink plenty of water.

Thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my blog, and I am absolutely going to do a snippet for this!

Warnings: (implied) hunger striking, captivity, themes of obsession, violence, and threats of restraints as well as physically restraining someone.

“You know that’s only going to hold us out for so long, right?”

It’s Jason. You don’t respond, keeping silent. It was just another trick, you knew, to get you to open the door.

Not that they only needed a door. You’d shoved the massive bookcase in front of the window, shoving your bed in front of it. Your desk, and the final bookshelf, had gone to block the door.

You had no doubt it wouldn’t hold them long. It just had to hold them long enough.

“Come on, kid, think about this. Open the door, and I’ll try and talk the old man down from taking the damn door off it’s hinges.”

You hiss softly in alarm, because you had thought Bruce was gone. You thought he was away, in Nepal, in a business trip. Otherwise there was no possible way you would have been able to pull this off, you knew.

“You didn’t know the old man was back? He got a call from Dickiebird, he’s on his way to the Manor as we speak, kid. You really want him to start breaking down the door? He will, you know it.”

You keep quiet, fingers buried in the soft carpet, and try to focus. Try to breath. Bruce being here changed things. Dick being here changed things.

“Who’s all in the Manor?”

You manage to croak out, and Jason pauses.

“Not sure I should be telling you that, kid. I’ll cut you a deal, though. Tell me why you’re pulling out the anti-siege tactics and I’ll tell you some names.”

You shake your head, before you remember that Jason couldn’t see you. That was fine.

“No deal.”

You weren’t going to be explaining to them that you felt suffocated, more often than not. That they were always there, constantly hovering, a hand on your shoulder or an arm linked around yours. That you had so little agency that you felt you were going insane, on a good day.

“Then guess you’re gonna be in the dark. Head up, though. Golden Boy’s pissed.”

That manages to rip the air from your lungs. Dick was scary as hell when he got angry, scary enough that out of all your siblings captors, his anger would immediately send you into a near frenzy. He got fucking mean when he was mad, and he knew how to use his words to cut to the bone.

“What and you aren’t?” You taunt, frantically trying to stop the way your heart thunders in your ears and the way your blood pulses in your veins.

“Oh no, I’m pissed. Pissed enough I’m keeping this door between the two of us, because I don’t want to traumatize ya.” It’s- it’s almost cheerful, the way he says it, so matter of fact, but the words are phrased in a way that you know they’re true. Every syllable is tense and clipped, not quite grit out and hidden behind the easygoing bluster.

“Yeah, well, I’m also pretty into keeping the door between us.” You snap, because you are impulsive and dumb and holy shit you did not think this through.

You hear the faintest sound from Jason, and when he speaks again, his voice is sharp, sharp enough you cringe back and try not to panic.

“I fucking bet, you brat. What exactly are you planning to get out of this, huh? Planning on going on a hunger strike or something?”

The door rattles in the frame, and you yelp, alarmed.

A sigh, and when Jason speaks again, it’s softer. Cajoling.

“Listen. Bruce and Golden Boy are gonna be here soon. We can do this two ways. You either open the door, apologize to me for being an absolute menace and driving me insane, or it gets busted down, and you leave the room anyways, except with a lot more yelling and a lot higher chance of Bruce not letting you out of his sight for months. Literally.”

You bite your lip, hands fisted in the rug.

“I’m not opening the door, Jason.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You hear his footsteps leave. For a second, you take a moment to breathe, air whistling between your teeth, the AC loud in the quiet room.

“Open the door.”

You jump, nearly leaping a foot in the air, and the startled sound dies in your chest, eyes wide.

Bruce. Bruce was on the other side of the door, right now, and he was pissed. Pissed enough that his voice had that gravelly, rough quality it got when he was being stern and already mad as hell but trying not to show it.

“No.”

Your voice sounds small, even to you. You try to ignore it.

The door rattles on it’s hinges. It seemed, with a locked door and several heavy oak dressers between you and him, he was determined to move both. It rattles again, this time louder, and you shriek in alarm when the desk creaks. How fucking hard was Bruce hitting it?

“(Y/N), unless you want me to break this door down, open the door.” Bruce sighs after he speaks, and then breathes in, like he was trying to calm himself down.

“I know you’re scared right now. But just open the door and come out, and we can talk about why you did this, okay? I’m sorry I frightened you.”

You feel tears prick at the side of your face, feel the anxiety and the nervousness and the fear. You want to shake your head.

You don’t say anything, and he sighs again.

This time, it’s not just the door that rattles. The desk shudders, straining against the weight thrown against it, and the shelf creaks, then sways.

You’re smart enough to back up and away before it comes crashing down. Not that you don’t doubt Bruce knew you were away from the shelf, or he never would have risked toppling the heavy thing.

When he ducks through the doorway, picking his way over the shattered desk and shelf, you back away, hands trembling. He pauses.

“(Y/N). Why don’t you come over here so we can clean the mess up, and we can talk about this in a bit? Just take a breath, okay? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. It makes some of the anger drain from his features, that you weren’t hurt, but you don’t get any closer and his lips press into a thin line.

“(Y/N). Come here.”

It’s stern. It reminds you of the same voice he uses every time you try and escape or fight with your siblings. It makes your stomach twist.

Your eyes flick to the door, and Dick, who was standing not far from the door way, sharp blue eyes watching you for any movement.

You make your decision, swallow, and ease forward.

Warm arms wrap around you the second you’re in reach, pressing you against Bruce’s chest, and you feel a bit of the tension in his shoulders unwind, just barely.

“This isn’t happening again, (Y/N). Do you understand me? What if you had gotten hurt, when the shelf came down? What if you had gotten hurt when you were in here and couldn’t say anything?”

Bruce was pissed, and he grips you tightly, tightly enough that you squirm in his hold, which only makes him grip you tighter.

“I wouldn’t have gotten myself hurt! It’s practically an empty room half the time, what could I have hurt myself with?”

God, you hated it when your mouth ran faster than your thoughts.

“That’s not what matters.” Dick cuts in. “The issue is that you could’ve, and we couldn’t have done anything about it!”

He pissed, practically spitting out the words, and you can hear Bruce’s frown.

“Dick, you need to calm down.”

“No! This is the fifth time this month they’ve tried something, you have to do something, Bruce! It’s stressing everyone out!”

You open your mouth to argue, ready to defend yourself because you hadn’t asked for any of this, but Bruce speaks before you can.

“I will.”

And suddenly you are far more preoccupied with trying to prevent Bruce from picking you up, twisting and squirming to get away, but he catches you easily. He presses you against him, this time the action restraining, and lifts, taking your feet off the ground.

The entire trip through the Manor, you are twisting and pushing against him, trying to escape. You nearly get close, once, when he was adjusting his hold and you had snapped your teeth at him, but Dick had lurched froward for a moment and it had startled you so badly that you had frozen, giving him time to readjust.

You’re dumped on a medical cot, and when you see the straps on either side, it nearly takes the both of them to hold you down long enough to get them on. Bruce looks pained the entire time, as you kick and flail, and when they’re both done, your arms are strapped securely enough that yanking on them does nothing.

“Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Bruce frowns, and then sighs, moving the cot. You’re moved with it, and you glare. “This is only temporary until we find a more permanent solution, (Y/N). Until we can trust you not to be a danger to yourself, alright? It won’t last long.”

Dick doesn’t look like he agrees.

You don’t either.

#yandere platonic batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere platonic x reader #yandere platonic batfam #yandere dick Grayson #yandere Bruce Wayne #yandere Jason Todd

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gennemi · 4 months

Text

𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝒀𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 (𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑷𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆 𝑴𝒆𝒏 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔)

A/N: Happy New Year's to all my lovely followers! I hope you all had a safe and lovely New Year's, I love you all! ✨🖤 and thank you to my friend for helping me make this happen! 🖤✨

Includes: Dracule Mihawk, Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro, Sanji Vinsmoke, Buggy the Clown, Red-Haired Shanks, Trafalgar D. Water Law, and Portgas D. Ace

Warnings: Pure Fluff, mentions of Alcohol, kissing, just pure fluff, non binary reader.

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

𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒊𝒉𝒂𝒘𝒌:

Mihawk and his lover are just spending New Year's just the both of them, sipping on his favorite vintage wine, having light conversation, and cooking New Years dinner together, and even making little snacks, to snack on. The two of them were making small conversation about how this year went.

Spending time together is all the two wanted to start the new year, no one else but them. It was basically an hour before midnight. So right now the two were currently dancing around the large living room of their castle that they called home. The two lovers didn’t need music to dance.

He looked at the clock, it read a minute before midnight. He pulled her close to him, looking into her eyes with his hawk-like eyes. As he continued to hold them close to him, spinning them around softly, he looked back at the clock, and saw it had hit midnight.

“Happy New Year Darling, here's to another amazing year with you.”

He spoke softly, as he pulled them in to give them a New Years Kiss.

𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝑫. 𝑳𝒖𝒇𝒇𝒚:

“Happy New Year Y/N!” the straw hat captain grinned. The straw hats, with the help of Franky and Nami keeping up with time, had planned a big feast to celebrate the beginning of a New Year. Smiling warmly at their captain trying to steal food while Usopp and Nami valiantly defending the food. Zoro was already sipping on his booze, Robin was relaxing while using her devil fruit ability to help bring food to the table.

After the big feast, it was about a few minutes before midnight, the two went to another part of the Thousand Sunny, to spend alone time together. They had a small conversation together. Her giggling at Luffy being his usual silly self, he loved hearing them laugh. And seeing their smile.

Soon the fireworks went off, the fireworks being Nami’s idea, so they had bought the fireworks to shoot off “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” They heard their fellow crewmates shout. He poked them on the shoulder, she looked at him.

“Happy New Year!”

He cheered out, happily as he pulled them close, giving them a New Years Kiss.

𝑹𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒂 𝒁𝒐𝒓𝒐:

For New Years he wanted to spend time with them just the two of them. Up in the crows nest of the Thousand Sunny with a bottle of sake. And a plate of food for them to eat, while their crew members partied down below, he was planning something a little special, as soon as the fireworks went off (Which were Nami’s idea)

The two were sharing a bottle of sake, while talking. All cuddled up together in the crows nest. The two were cracking jokes about the things that had happened during this year, and hoping to make fond memories for every year to come. They don’t even know the time currently. Too busy wrapped up in each other's embrace.

The fireworks then suddenly went off with their fellow crewmates yelling “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” from below them, he looked over at her softly grabbing their face, to have them look at him.

“Happy New Year babe, here’s to the new year. And plenty more to go.”

He spoke, as his lips pressed against hers. Giving them a New Years Kiss.

𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒋𝒊 𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒌𝒆:

The straw hat crew was hosting a New Year party/feast on the Thousand Sunny. Sanji and his beloved were drinking some wine together, while eating the food that Sanji prepared with their help. The couple were happy to go into the new year together. As the crew laughed, and conversated about how this year went. All the memories they made.

Sanji and his beloved were conversing about the good, bad, and funny memories they made together. As they snuggled up together, waiting on Franky and Nami to shoot off the fireworks. To go into the new year.

Soon the fireworks went off, he looked over at them pulling them close to him, putting a hand softly on their cheek.

“Happy New Year my beloved, here's to many more with you~”

He spoke, as he leaned in and softly gave them a New Years Kiss.

𝑩𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒏:

There was a party being hosted by Buggy himself on The Big Top. It was a New Years party to celebrate going into the new year, with plenty of sake and food to go around, it was a whole feast. In their own corner was Buggy and Y/N spending time with each other, eating food and drinking sake together.

They had planned to shoot off fireworks, as soon as it was midnight. And Buggy also had something planned to go into the new year with his lover. He felt happy to celebrate new years with them, he couldn’t wait until it hit midnight.

Soon the sound of fireworks in the sky surrounded the area, they looked up at the fireworks in awe as the crew yelled out “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” as they cheered and hollered, Buggy pulled them close to him, causing them to look at him.

“Happy New Year Doll~”

He cooed softly, as he pulled them in for a New Years Kiss.

𝑹𝒆𝒅-𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔:

The crew was of course celebrating New Year with a party, with of course alcohol being involved. Shanks had his love sitting on his lap, him being the clingy partner that he is. Wanted them close to him, as the two drank on the rum. And ate on the food that was served.

They had managed to buy fireworks for this occasion, as his love wanted fireworks. And him being the amazing lover that he is. Made sure that happened. The one keeping up with the time was Lucky Roux, he let everyone know it was almost time for it.

The time went by fast as the fireworks now went off, shooting up into the sky with different, beautiful but vibrant colors, he pulled them close to him, to get their attention. They looked at him.

“Happy New Year Love, to many more with you.”

He pulled them into a New Years Kiss.

𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝑫. 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑳𝒂𝒘:

The Heart Pirates were celebrating new years on the Polar Tang, with food and snacks, and drinks to choose from, it was just a small celebration amongst the crew. Law and his lover were hanging out on the deck, just them wanting to spend alone time together. He had a watch on his wrist so he could tell when it's midnight.

He wanted to do something special for them as soon as midnight hit, he was listened to them rant about the memories good, bad,and silly that they made this year, and hoping to make the same memories with him during the new year.

He looked at his watch, noticing it was now midnight. He looked over at them, touching their face gently, causing them to look at him, he leaned in close to them.

“Happy New Year Doll.”

He whispered softly, bringing them into a New Years Kiss.

𝑷𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒈𝒂𝒔 𝑫. 𝑨𝒄𝒆:

The two were strolling down the busy street hand in hand, they wanted to come to the New Years Festival with him, and how could he say no to his lover. The two were sharing a candied apple. Looking at all the stalls open, the smells of different foods wafting in the air.

When it was almost time for the fireworks to go off, the two went to the outskirts of the town, and sat down on a small hill, where they are still able to see the fireworks go off. They were joking around, and talking to pass the time.

Soon the fireworks went off as they heard cheers from the festival below, the two looked at each other, this was his chance, he put one of his hands softly on their cheek rubbing it softly.

“Happy New Year My Flame!”

He cheerfully said, as he gave them a kiss, a New Years Kiss.

#gennemi writes #one piece #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #buggy the clown x reader #one piece buggy #red haired shanks #shanks x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar one piece #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece zoro #portgas ace x reader #one piece portgas d ace #sanji x reader #one piece sanji

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