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vorestarr · 7 months

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ascended astarion and vampire spouses

so I've been reading the dnd 2e manual "Van Richten's Guide to Vampires" for fic/game inspiration, and there's this really interesting chapter on vampire brides and grooms. after reading it, it's very clear to me that Astarion didn't turn Tav into a typical spawn, but into a vampire spouse, which are two very different rituals with very different outcomes.

the typical vampire spawn creation process is exactly what Astarion describes happening to him: a painful death, a painful rebirth into undeath, fighting his way out of his own coffin, and Cazador's complete control over him. this is described pretty clearly in the guide to vampires:

According to most related tales, a vampire can create another simply by killing a mortal either with its life-energy draining power (draining all the character's experience leveIs) or by exhausting the mortal of his or her blood supply. If the victim's body is not properly destroyed, it arises as a vampire, under the control of the creature who killed it, on the second night following the burial. [...] Most vampires remember the instant of their death and the nature of their killer, and understand immediately their new nature. Certainly their new hunger gives them a good idea of what they have become. They must immediately free themselves from their grave. either by breaking it open from within or by assuming gaseous form and diffusing out.

so that's definitely what happened to Astarion, but that's not what happens to Tav. after ascended Astarion turns Tav into a vampire, they can ask him what happened, and he describes the following:

Astarion: You are so beautiful... And you will be beautiful forever. Thank you for trusting me. Player: What exactly happened? Astarion: You were drained dry, and at the height of your delirium, I granted you one drop of my own blood. Things will be a touch different for you than they were for me when I was a spawn. I'm imbibed with unfathomable new talents. I am fairly certain I can extend Mephistopheles' blessings unto you. Player: Does that mean I need not fear the sun? Astarion: You need not fear anything. You will be stronger, swifter, sharper, but you won't be different. You were already perfect before. It's hard to improve.

for reference, this is how the guide to vampires describes the ritual for vampire spouses:

To actually create the bride, the vampire bestows what is known as the "Dark Kiss". lt samples the blood of its mortal paramour—once, twice, thrice—draining her almost to the point of death. This process causes the subject no pain; in fact, it has been described as the most euphoric, ecstatic experience, in comparison to which all ether pleasures fade into insignificance. Just as the subject is about to slip into the terminal coma from which there is no awakening, the vampire opens a gash in its own flesh—often in its throat—and holds the subject's mouth to the wound, As the burning draught that is the vampire’s blood gushes into the subject's mouth, the primitive feeding instinct is triggered, and she sucks hungrily at the wound, enraptured. With the first taste of the blood, the subject is possessed of great and frenzied strength (Str 18, if the character’s Str isn't already higher), and will use it to prevent the vampire from separating her from the fountain of wonder that is its bleeding wound. lt is at this point that the creator-vampire's strength is most sorely tested. He is weakened by his own blood loss, and also by his own rapture as the "victim" of a dark kiss. Overcoming the sudden loss of strength and the inclinations of lust, the vampire must pull her away from its own throat, hopefully without harming her, before she has overfed. Should the subject be allowed to feed for too long (more than 2 rounds), she is driven totally and incurably insane, and will die in agony within 24 hours. Once the subject has stopped feeding, she falls into a coma that lasts minutes or hours (2dl2 turns), at the end of which time she dies. Several (1 d3) hours later, she arises as a Fledgling vampire—and her creator's bride.

this to me sounds like what Astarion describes. he drains Tav almost dry, and at the very last moment, gives them a single drop of his blood. (also interesting reading this guide, the single drop avoids the problem of the vampire spouse being driven ravenous with hunger for the vampire creator's blood and attacking them. did Astarion know this and give them one drop on purpose to avoid that and Tav potentially being driven mad by it? or was he being selfish and this is just a nice but unanticipated outcome?)

i kept reading and there's a lot more interesting information about vampire spouses, but the most interesting thing I found related to the game was this:

Although there are some folk tales that describe the bride of a vampire as its slave, in much the same way that offspring are slaves, a bride is free-willed from the moment of her creation. The creator vampire does have great influence over the bride. however although this control is totally nonmagical. When a vampire is created in the traditional manner—that is, when a victim's life energy is completely drained away—the new fledgling instinctively understands much about the vampiric way of unlife, and about its own strengths, weaknesses* and needs. Not so the bride.

so basically, the vampire spouse is not tied to the vampire creator in the same way as a spawn (i.e., not able to be fully controlled) but is still extremely reliant on the vampire creator to teach them how to live as a vampire. the guide goes on to describe that some vampire creators may lie to their vampire spouse about the control or powers they have, in order to exert more control over them.

interestingly, if you ask Astarion if he can compel you the way Cazador compelled him, he doesn't give a straight answer, he just says this:

Player: Cazador could compel you - can you compel me? Astarion: Why would I need to? You're going to be wonderfully obedient.

to me, all of this says that Astarion was telling the truth when he told Tav that they would be different from him as a spawn, and also in emphasizing that they are not a spawn but a consort. he didn't create a spawn, he created a vampire spouse. he married Tav, and because of this Tav also retains their free will.

of course, Astarion doesn't say this. if he knows, he withholds this information in much the way that this guide describes, as a way for the creator to maintain more control over their spouse. but still, extremely interesting implications for the ascended Astarion romance, imo.

other interesting facts about vampire spouses from the guide to vampires:

the married couple has telepathic communication that can span miles -- so Tav and Astarion can potentially have a telepathic bond even after the tadpoles are gone. (another note, this communication has to be consensual both ways for it to work, so you can't just dig around someone's mind if they don't want it.)

the vampire creator is extremely jealous and possessive. (yeah lol)

their life forces are linked, so one suffering a great deal is felt by the other.

the bond can be broken, but the ritual to do so has to be initiated by the creator. to break it, they both spill their blood on the ground and allow it to mix. this dissolves all aspects of the bond (i.e., telepathy and linked life forces), but the spouse stays a vampire.

#forgive me if this is already posted somewhere #i went looking for a post like this but tumblr's search system is so abysmal i couldn't find anything #so i'm just posting for my own reference and then tagging it for others in case :)#astarion #ascended astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion romance #for reference #meta #baldur's gate 3

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spenceobsessed · 3 months

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part 1

this is a part 2 to another fic i did, but can be read as a stand alone!

post!prison reid x fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, smut with a plot

summary: after being put on a case with you, spencer realizes he might not hate you as much as he thought.

MDNI 18+

unfortunately, when working for the bau, having time off is very rare. you and spencer were harshly reminded of this. right after your successful arrest of the unsub at the nightclub, you were immediately put on a plane, incredibly sexually frustrated, on your way to another case.

you and spencer had (luckily or unluckily) ended up next to each other on a plane ride to the middle of nowhere in wisconsin. there had been a string of murders in the small town of hayward. four were dead and the unsubs rate of death was accelerating.

the flight was a little under six hours. just sitting next to spencer was excruciating.

the rest of the team had fallen asleep and although you attempted to sleep, you were simply just too horny. not being able to finish earlier, mixed with sheer anticipation had taken over you. you tossed and turned in your seat, a blanket pulled up to your chest. you open your eyes to look at spencer who had a book in his hands, his eyes on you.

you smile softly, sitting upright to get a better look at the handsome man.

“are you okay?" he asks softly, his kind voice still new for you. you nod, watching as he sets his book down over his crotch. hes still hard.

"i'm okay." you respond with a smile. "just, y'know..." you trail off trying to put your thoughts into words.

he laughs softly, completely understanding what you mean. "earlier.” he finishes your sentence with a smirk on his face.

“well i would ask how you feel about ‘earlier’, dr. reid,” you begin, your had moving from the armrest to rub against his chest. “but i can already tell.” you move your had quickly down his chest and hover your hand over his obviously hard cock in his pants. he gasps softly as you use one finger to trace the shape of him.

“fuck.” he groans, the use of a curse word throwing you off (and turning you on). “please.” he begs as you push softly on his cock, feeling a wet spot from precum already forming.

“use your words.” you demand, kindly, your dominance going straight to his dick. spencer liked being dominant, which he most definitely was going to be when the plane fucking lands, but right now he wanted to be taken care of. he needed to be taken care of.

“touch me.” he says simply as you begin to undo his belt quietly.

“ok, pretty boy, but i’m going to need you to keep quiet, can you do that?” you reply, reaching your hand into his underwear, pulling his hard cock out. he was huge, bigger than you would’ve guessed, especially for a relatively skinny guy. his tip was red and angry, begging for your attention.

“yes.” he says breathlessly, watching you hold his cock. you smile, throwing your blanket over his lap and over your arm, deciding that sucking him off would make too much noise.

you use your pointer finger to spread his precum over the tip of his cock, eliciting a muffled groan from the man.

you begin to move your hand down his cock, causing spencer to cover his mouth with his hand. his pupils were blown and his chest rising and falling fast. it was an amazing sight.

you felt yourself getting wet as your hand began to move faster on his cock.

“this feels so good.” he says, his praise only fueling your desire. the man bites back a moan just watching you concentrate on letting him cum.

“fuck, y/n,” he gasps out his hips bucking into your hand. “i’m close.” you pick up your pace a bit, making the handsome man roll his eyes back in his head and cum all over your hand. you stand up and take a look around the jet to make sure everyone was still asleep. luckily, penelope garcia had given the whole team noise cancelling headphones for christmas, so no one heard a thing.

you smile leaning in to give him soft kiss on the lips before walking to the bathroom to wash off your hands. when you return, spencer's eyes are closed and you can't help but kiss his cheek. he opens his eyes slowly, reaching up to grab your waist and pull you onto him. he throws the blanket over your bodies and kisses your forehead softly.

you squirm slightly, still feeling horny. he looks up at you, eyes barely open. "your turn?" he asks, referring to your pleasure. you laugh softly shaking your head. he was half asleep and still offering to make you happy. "no, its okay pretty boy, we'll save that for later." he nods, a smile on his face.

"are you sure?" he asks, turning his head so he could look you in the eyes, perhaps to see if you were lying.

"yes, i promise." he kisses you on the forehead before falling asleep, his arms around you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

although you managed to get some sleep in spencer's arms, you knew that soon enough someone would wake up and you both would get caught. so, an hour after falling asleep on the handsome man, you painfully peeled yourself off of his lap and back into your own cold seat.

luckily, no one had (seemingly) seen anything, which was good.

as of now, you were leaving the plane to go to the hayward precinct.

"we'll check in with the chief of police, then dave and i will stay over night while you guys go to the inn and get some sleep." emily announced as they began piling into two large black suburbans.

they collectively thanked prentiss and rossi before heading to the inn.

"wait so when she says inn..." you ask, climbing the the back seat. jj nods.

"yeah, this is a small town so there isn't really any place for us to stay near by."

tara climbs in the passengers seat and luke slides in next to you.

the rest of the ride there was relatively normal, minus a few jokes about you & spencer's make out session at the night club, that you chose to ignore.

you arrived to the inn quickly, grabbing your designated room key and head to your room.

“fuck!” you yell, surprised to see someone already in your room.

“shhh.” spencer says, coming up to close the door behind you, taking your bags from your hands and setting them down by his feet.

“i missed you.” he says, causing you to roll your eyes.

“it’s been like thirty minutes, pretty boy.” he smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. you laugh as he picks you up easily and carries you over to the queen sized bed.

“i’ve just been thinking about earlier.” he says, laying down next to you.

“oh yeah?” you say, turning you head to face him.

“uh huh,” he says, pulling your body closer to him allowing you to lay your head on his chest. “i want to make you cum now.” he says, his voice low. you look up at him allowing him to tip his head down to kiss your lips.

“jj.. is.. next.. door.” you huff out in between kisses. spencer shrugs, flipping your position so he’s on top of you. he begins kissing and biting down your jaw and neck, using his hands to expertly remove your shirt. he lets out a small groan when he rips the shirt off you, revealing your tiny, lacy bra.

“off please.” is all you manage to say, but somehow he understands. he unclasps your bra in a single motion, throwing it to the floor, exposing your hardened nipples.

“y/n..” he says lowly, his eyes filled with lust. “so pretty.” he continues to trail kisses down your neck and chest, until his mouth lands on your tit, sucking softly as his other hand teases your other nipple.

you groan softly, that familiar wet feeling returning in your underwear for the third time in 24 hours.

although you’ve just started, your groans and boobs had already gone straight to spencer’s cock and as he kissed your body you could already feel his hardness pressed on your leg.

you buck your hips up against spencer, begging for some friction.

“i need you inside of me, spencer.” the use of his name he was so unfamiliar with made his pants grow tighter.

“so needy.” he jokes with a smile, moving to remove your pants, his mouth watering at the sight of your covered pussy, a perfect wet spot in the center.

“so, so pretty.” he sighs, hooking his fingers in your underwear and pulling it off of your legs.

without warning he inserts two of his fingers in you, causing you to gasp and moan at the new sensation. you slowly attempt to remove his shirt as pleasure blinds your senses.

soon enough, spencer is moving down to attach his mouth on your cunt. “spence, please, im gonna cum. i need you inside me.” you moan, your back arching. this garners a moan from the handsome man, his noises echoing in your pussy.

you expect him to pull away, but he doesn’t. you feel your walls begin to tighten as he returns his fingers into you, allowing you to finally cum.

you moan and groan, his name on your lips.

even though your only semi cognizantas you recover from your high, you can’t help but notice the way spencer has begun to crash his hips against the bed.

“inside me.” you demand, your breathing heavy. spencer smiles as he removes his pants, leaving just his boxers, and crawls over top of you. he captures your lips in a heated and sloppy kiss, the remnants of your orgasm on his lips.

you reach down, breaking the kiss to remove his underwear, his hard and leaking cock sticking straight up. you smile as he pecks your lips, moving himself so his cock is aligned with your entrance.

he glides his cock over your slit a few times, causing you to beg him to be inside you. you’ve never felt this desperate before. he slowly pushes his large dick into you, causing you to groan, slightly in pain due to his size.

“you okay, baby?” he whispers, noticing your discomfort. you nod as your walls adjust, his size now feeling incredible.

he begins to pump his cock in and out, immediately hitting you in your sweet spot.

“fuck.” you moan, throwing your head back. he uses his hand to move your face back, towards him.

“i want to see your pretty face when you cum, y/n.” he says, in almost a demanding manner, but still with kind undertones.

his words don’t fail to turn you on, somehow even more.

“oh, you like that?” he says through a moan, as his pace quickens, the leud sounds of his cock driving deep inside you, mixed with moans, fill the small room.

“i’m close,” spencer admits, through breathy moans. you open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a deep moan.

you feel his dick twitch inside you as rubs your clit with his fingers.

“cum inside me, please.” you beg, feeling your core tighten around him, your release nearing.

“are you sure?” he asks, his movements becoming more sloppy, his skin coated in a thin layer of sweat.

“yes!” you confirm as you reach your climax for the second time, spencer following quickly.

his hot cum fills you up as he continues his movements, riding you both through your highs.

when you’ve both had a second to catch your breaths, he pulls out of you, leaving you full of his cum, but missing his cock. you smile as he gives you a slow kiss, laying down next to you.

“you’re so perfect.” he whispers into your hair as you lay your head on his chest. you smile, happy, but a little confused how just over a day ago you couldn’t stand this beautiful man.

a/n: thank you all for 100 followers and so much love on my last post. as someone new to tumblr it seriously means a lot. just so you know, my requests are open!!!! thanks again🫶🫶🫶

#spencer reid imagine #spenceobsessed #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #smut #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #fanfic #criminal minds smut #imagine

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 2 months

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https://twitter.com/sluttywh0r3/status/1738661113154220340?t=VYLoAeMTbPq_UQ-a7lMuVA&s=19

You were both so horny but you just ran out of your birth control and didn't have any condoms so Simon said he'd pull out only to have you riding him and refusing to get off of him and begging him to cum inside you

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

READ IT HERE

9-1-1, yes hello? There is an attempted murder in progress. Yes, it is on my sanity, thank you.

Seriously, you guys are trying to kill me, right? Because there is no way in hell I am supposed to read that and stay sane. I'm gonna have to take a minute just to get through the rest of this post after the flood of images that just entered by brain.

But damn if it ain't a pretty scenario to think about. I am mean come on, just thinking about you and Simon being so fucking out of your minds horny for each other that you are willing to risk everything is hot as hell. Just him heavy breathing in your ear, telling you how good he wants to make you feel, the vibration from his voice making your clit throb as his lips leave trails of tingles along the side of your neck from the warmth of his lips.

Just the feeling of you under his fingertips has him panting as he tries to shove his hands in your pants, in your shirt, or both if he's lucky. He needs to make you come, it's the only thing he cares about in that moment; he needs to know that he has the power to make you fall apart and it consumes him until it is agony.

Probably wouldn't even make it to the god damn bed before he is ripping off your clothes as fast as those thick fingers can get into them and then immediately throwing your legs on his shoulders and thrusting inside you the second he can; he'd just drag you onto the floor with him and spread your thighs wide. That massive, virile man isn't going be able to create anything more than a few coherent words before it's all grunts like an animal in heat.

"We'll be careful. Com' on, sweetheart...Mmmm fuck... swear I'll fuckin' pull out. Just need ta be inside ya."

(I can feel the flames licking at me right now just for thinking about this lol).

Then you end up on top and Simon is on cloud fucking nine watching you completely lose your mind at how good it feels that the minute you start begging him to come inside you, that promise he made to you about pulling out flies out the fucking window without a second thought. You pleading with him to fill you up is going to awaken that feral part of his brain that he will not be able to control and it's gonna be all over.

"Christ, can't say no to ya ever, pretty girl. Ya want it inside ya, that's what your gonna fuckin' get."

He'd be so out of it, high off the feeling of you riding him into oblivion that he will not even fight you on it. He isn't even going to hesitate to keep going all the way until you both are a whole god damn mess and you are leaking his cum. Shit he'd make sure you got everything you want by keeping your hips locked together with his tight grip as he begins to slam up into you harder and harder, loudly grunting from the strain through that point of no return. The risk would be 100% worth it at that point.

And you'd be so gone with his cock shoved so far in you that your brain cannot even create a single thought other than to come on it. So what if this hot as hell romp leads to an oopsie; he'd make a great dad, right?

Don't worry, he's thinking the same thing and he's fine with it.

"Jus' don't fuckin' stop."

Give me a bit to write this all out cause I really really REALLY need this to be a full fledged fic.

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obsessedwrhys · 1 month

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The Seven and The Boys with forced supe reader(like Billy’s little sister as revenge for billy and the boys constantly causing problems)

Rouge powers reader————powers turn on and off randomly

can absorb life forces and powers(which they can steal(albeit accidentally))

Very stubborn and sarcastic just like her brother

Home lander is probably extra yandere for tons of reasons and keeps the reader in a glass room(enclosure or whatever)(think a zoo exhibit or big aquarium tank without water—— that one room from You or the glass apartment In Supernova for the kid with the same sort of powers)so that he can see his pet/prize/whatever tf he plans to do with them

-🌑

I keep seeing this as a full blown fic in my mind but I don’t have the skills to pull it off so I’d like to see other people’s takes on the idea!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Rogue!Reader

ᯓ★ I read your req and I'm intrigued so this is my attempt on it, hope it meets your expectations. This is like a full on story lol (angst, gore, death, killing, looooots of cursing like I'm not even exaggerating, homelander being homelander, some fluff at the end?)

Parts: 2

With your brother's reputation, it's hard to ever live your whole life without the constant need to look over the shoulder. You always liked to tell yourself that after cutting ties with him, it will ensure you your safety, but those words were nothing more than just lies.

Losing Becca changed him completely. You could still recall the last time you spoke to him, the talk regarding your concern escalating into a heated argument.

"I'm telling you! You have no chance against a literal superpowered person! You'll get yourself killed!" You raised your voice, standing on the other side of the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, but this ain't a life worth livin' for anyways" He brushed your words off like he usually does. You watch in disbelief as he pours himself alcohol.

"Fuck you. You're such an asshole..." You said and he nods at you as he lifts his glass up.

"I'll drink to that" You scoff when he actually drank from his cup, the sound of him sipping ticking you off.

"Okay, fine, get yourself killed! But I won't stand to be here when it happens. I want you out of my life. I never wanna see you. I never even want to hear from you again! You're... you're..." You gasp as you start to sob. He turns to you, nothing but a blank expression on his face.

"Hey... take it easy—"

"No! Don't you fucking tell me to take this shit easy when you just admit to me that you're willing to throw away your life for some blonde american supe! You are a shitty brother! You're just like dad!"

"Don't you fuckin' compare me to that cunt!"

"I fucking said what I said!"

"Fuck you!"

"FUCK YOU!!"

The sound of your heavy breathing filled the kitchen. You could feel your chest rising and falling, your face burning from the overwhelming anger. Butcher sighs at the sight of you as he looks away with his eyes closed.

"You don't know half the things I know sis... you have to understand..."

"No... don't bother telling me. I already know that you'll never change..." You grabbed your things and before he could stop you, you left the house, slamming the door while you were at it.

For the next 8 years, you would find yourself living somehow a happier life. Making friends, going through relationships and heartbreaks, getting multiple jobs to pay for your apartment. It was like an ocean wave since it was never steady but you couldn't deny you've never felt more alive.

However, even on these good days, there were nights you'd find yourself waking up to nightmares. Nightmares of your brother dying. Nightmares of being abandoned. It always left you covered in cold sweats and sometimes you couldn't go back to sleep so you'd just sit by the window or watch some videos online to keep your mind off it.

Even though you convince yourself you were happier.

You never felt secure.

You always felt like something was out to get you.

Especially after you saw the news of him theorised to have killed the senior vice president working at Vought. You couldn't bother to remember her name cause the image of your brother was hauntingly enough. That's when you realised, if they were after him, what if they were also after you?

You stood at the counter of the restaurant you worked at. The job was new as you interviewed for the role of the cashier. Though all these days of dealing with rude customers and having to force a smile is making you want to rethink a different job. Just then, the door to the restaurant opens.

"Welcome!" You said as cheerfully as you can. Instead of searching for a table to sit, the customer approaches you.

"I'm sorry but where's the restroom? I really need to go" The customer spoke, he was wearing an awfully lots of layers, even shades indoors.

"It's just at the back to the right, there's a huge sign, it's hard to miss it" You smiled and the customer stares at you for a while before nodding.

"Thank you"

Finally, he leaves and you couldn't help but be relieved. Why were you holding your breath in the first place? After a couple more hours of standing around and smiling, your shift was done. You did your daily duties and cleaned up the place, making sure it was clean before you leave.

"Bye (Y/N)! Don't forget about our hangout this Friday night!" Your friend spoke as she leaves first.

"Trust me I'm looking forward to it!" You replied before heading to the back of the building to throw the trash away.

You were on your way to the huge bins until you felt the trash bag become lighter. You stare down and was annoyed the second you saw that the bag had tore. It's settled, you're getting a new job after you get your salary. You crouched down and tried to think of ways to solve the issue.

Once you stood up, you felt a sharp pain on your neck. Before you could even do anything to find the source of the pain, you collapsed. The last thing you could feel before becoming unconscious was the touch of someone catching you.

....

"Will it work?"

........

"We've only tested on rats. We're not sure sir"

...........

"Do I have to rephrase? If she dies, you fucking die with her, you understand?"

...............

"Yes sir"

.....................

"Good. Now do what you're only good for, you fucking worthless piece of shit"

...............................

Lights... knives... syringes... you slowly awoke on the floor as faint images of what you would recall as a memory began flashing in your head. Did that happen? It felt real. You opened your eyes and blinked a couple of time to register the room you were in.

You were... in a cage?

You looked around, the walls and floors made of white marbles which made it cold when your skin made contact with it. Now that you realised, you were no longer in your uniform, you seemed to be wearing some kind of gown patients would wear for surgery.

"Morning sunshine!" Your body jumped when you heard a familiar voice, a voice you only heard on the tv or radio shows. You stare at him as he walks to the center, a few feet from your cage.

It was Homelander. You never thought the day would come where you would be face to face to the person behind the reasons of your brother's rampage.

"Did you rest well?" He asks, an eary grin on his face. You looked around the inside of your glass cage.

"Couldn't you have given me a mattress?" You said. Your concern catching him a bit off guard but he didn't show it.

"Well, we tried to give you something more comfortable to sleep on but it seems like anyone who tried to even touch you ended up well... what's the word for it... withered. Dead. Nothing but a corpse suck dry of it's life" He said but you had no idea what any of his words meant.

"Is this some joke?" He chuckles.

"No. No joke (Y/N). I'm simply just giving my hypothesis on your new powers"

Powers? You have to be high right?

Did whatever pain that you felt was the mark of your death?

Is this some sick twisted illusion of yours created in hell?

"Yeah right... and I'm fucking Beyonce. Would you like to see my collection of Grammys?" You said sarcastically, clearly not taking anything seriously.

Homelander doesn't say anything but just laugh, since you were clearly convinced this was hell and that you were dead, you laughed along with him. He trembles his shoulders as if he's cold, that devilish grin still on his face.

"Wooo! You're a jokester aren't you (Y/N)? I know I'm just gonna love you. How about I bring you a gift as a symbol of our blossoming friendship?" He asked but he had already left the room. Your answer never even needed at all.

As your laughter died down, you were left alone in the room. You felt high. Too realistically high. Were you pumped with drugs? Shit... you grabbed your head as you tried to process the feeling until you heard the sound of a high pitched scream. You turn your head to find it to be your friend from work. She was shoved into the room and right when she stood up to leave, the door was shut.

"Let me the fuck out! You fucking bitch! You promised me weed!" She slammed on the door a couple of times after attempting to twist the doorknob open.

"Cleo?" She turns to you, her masacra ruined from her tears.

"(Y/N)? Holy shit what happened to your hair?" She said and you were confused until you checked to see the front strands of your hair now dyed white.

Okay now what in the actual fuck is happening...

"I don't know...? Why are you here?" You questioned.

"Some fucker promised me weed for some cash. I should have known better when I saw how cheap it was" She sighs as she sits against the door.

Suddenly the glass door on your cage sprung open. The two of you exchanged confused expressions. Is this some kind of trick? You wondered but either way you stepped out from your cage and began to approach your friend. She sighs as she curls up into a ball.

"What the fuck even is this place...?" She asks after you finally sat down beside her. You rubbed her arm to provide some comfort.

"I don't know... this feels real and fake at the same time. Hey, if by any chance we were in a puzzle just like in Saw, how much do you wanna bet who'd win—?" You nudged her playfully but instead of getting a response. She falls over.

Her face was pale white. Eyes dilated. The veins on her body growing visibly purple. The sight left you in shock and you quickly grabbed her by the shoulder to jerk her a few times. No words left her mouth except sounds of gasping, as if the air was getting sucked out of her lungs.

"Cleo! What the fuck! Holy fucking shit!" You cursed and it didn't take long until her body grows limp. Like a skeleton with a thin layer of skin left.

Afraid the same would happen to you, you quickly ran into your cage. You sat at the corner, trying your hardest not to look at your friend. That was real. This isn't some stupid trick set up by Satan. This is fucking real.

But why is this happening?

Why you?

The glass door slammed shut and the noise made your body jump. The door to the room opened but got stuck at the weight of your friend's corpse. You could hear the sound of disgust come from Homelander as he ends up kicking body aside to be able to open the door fully.

"So... did you like my gift?"

"What the fuck did you do? Did you poison her?" You said which he seemed offended at.

"Me? Oh please, I can shoot fucking lasers out of my eyes and I choose to poison some fucking nobody? I mean look at her" He chuckles, his eyes staring at the corpse of what was your friend.

His tone and words growing a small wave of anger within your chest.

"What do you want from me?"

"You know what I want" He said, the smile on his face gone. He was now serious. His gaze cold enough to send shivers down your body.

"(Y/N) Butcher. Butcher. I didn't know he had a little sister" He took a step closer, then another, until he was face to face to the glass, staring down at your figure hiding away in the corner.

"He really doesn't get scared huh? Not afraid of death, to take a life, not even me. And well... since he fucking hates supes so much, then I might as well make his beloved sister one. If I can't strike fear in him, you will" Homelander spoke, the corner of his lips twisting into a grin. As if all of this was bringing him some sick enjoyment.

"Everyone will be the pawn and you'll be the queen... so save your strength. You're gonna need it sweetheart" He turned around and as he leaves, he stares at the corpse for a quick moment. Even from inside the cage you could hear him shout for the people working to clean the body.

Fuck... this cannot be your life now...

You're now an animal kept in a cage.

Hours progressed to days then months. The only thing keeping you entertained was... the toilet? Aside from that was the visits Homelander would pay you every now and then to make sure you were alive. It almost seemed like he had expected you to be dead by now but you weren't, which he's impressed about.

You laid on the ground, staring at the ceiling. You were bored so you decided to try to count from 1 to 10000 this time. Just as you got to 482, the door opened and you turned to see it wasn't Homelander but rather a worker. Assuming he's just here to clean, you turned back to the ceiling to continue counting.

"Pssh, ma dame, do you hear me?" He knocks on the glass, his french accent caught your attention.

"I don't care. I'm not gonna strip for you"

"Nono! That's not why I'm here, your brother, Billy Butcher? He sent me here" His name striking something in you. You got up as your eyes are slightly widened.

"He knows I'm here?"

"Yes... he's here as well. He's gonna try to get you out of here"

Just as he finishes talking, the glass door sprung open. He gets in the cage and reaches for you but right as you reach for his hand, you remembered you weren't the same anymore, you were cursed, so you quickly pull your hand away. Your action causes the man to tilt his head in confusion.

"Do not worry, I'm not here to hurt you" He tries to take a few steps closer but you quickly stepped back.

"No.... no stop! That's enough!" You raised your hands gesturing him to stand where he's at.

"Don't touch me..." You added and he stares at you for a moment before taking a few steps back until he's out of the cage.

"Okay... but you must follow me. We don't have much time left" He said, walking out of the room and you hesitated for a while before following after him.

When walking down the hallway, you couldn't help but look around the area. This was your first time seeing the place you've been trapped inside for supposedly months. As you followed the strange man who saved you, you noticed that he seemed to be talking to someone over his earpiece. Was it Butcher?

After managing to sneak past several guards and having a few close calls, you two finally made it out from one of the back doors. You hurried as you followed the man somewhere. You couldn't believe it. The feel of the wind and the smell of the grass was making you wish you appreciated the outdoor more.

"Were you noticed?" His friend who's been on the look out asked. He shakes his head.

"No" After hearing his reponse, his friend turns to look at you.

"I'm M.M.... C'mon, your brother put in a lot to save you" He began walking away and the two of you simply went along.

He did?

"I haven't introduced myself. I'm Frenchie. It's nice to meet you" The man who saved you earlier said with a smile and you weakly smile back.

The moment the three of you reached a van parked in a safe area. The door slide open and your eyes widened once you were locked eyes with someone familiar. Yet he looked so much different now. He grew a beard. You had to admit, it made him look less ugly.

"(Y/N)..." He got out of the van and was ready to embrace you but you quickly avoided his grasp. This causes him to stand there with his arms hanging there awkwardly.

"Ooookay.... get in" M.M told Frenchie and they did just that, sliding the door close to give you both the privacy.

"All these years and you still hate your ol' brother" He jokes as he drops his hands down to his sides, but it was clear that he was upset at your actions and trying to hide it.

"Don't touch me"

"I got it"

The two of you stood there and you were staring at him a little too hard. Thoughts racing in your head like a racetrack. What the fuck has he been up to these years and how did he even find you?

"So... are we jus' gonna stand here and wait for 'em to realise you're missin'?" He nods at the facility nearby and you sigh.

"You're taking me home" You walked over to the passenger seat but the sound of Butcher clicking his tongue made you stop halfway in your tracks. Now you were standing in front of the van.

"Not gonna happen. Is your head loose of screws sis? They know who you are now, which means they know where you live. You're gonna be stayin' with me" He said.

Shit... there's really no chance of a normal life now. You really are cursed.

"Stay with you? With these guys?" You point at the van and from the front of the vehicle, you could see his friends all huddled in the back, the whole time they've been secretly listening to the conversation but once you pointed at them, they tried to act as though they haven't been doing so.

"They can protect you"

"I don't need protecting. The last thing I need is someone doing that"

"Oh really? Then mind sharing your experience in there? Was it a luxury? How much longer do you think you could have lasted if I hadn't found you" He took a few steps closer and you gave him a warning look.

"You're my sister... you think a few fights is gonna change that?" He tried reaching for your shoulder and you quickly dodged it. Failing to notice, tears were beginning to well up in your eyes because deep inside, you were desperately in need of comfort, a hug, anything physical but you couldn't even have that.

"You can't touch me... nobody can.... f-fuck... I killed my friend just by touching her..." You began to sob, your hands grabbing onto your face in an attempt to hide your expression. A frown appears on his face.

"What the fuck did they do to you...?"

"They made me a freak! They gave me these fucked up powers!! I don't want this...!" You cried, wishing this was another of your nightmares and that none of this was real.

"It's okay... come here..." He began to step closer to you but you were too numb from the feeling to even react.

Taking off his coat, he puts it securely around you before wrapping you in his arms. For the first time in months, you finally felt the presence of another person's embrace. The warmth felt so good. It was like you were melting from it. Your sobs grew weak as you nuzzle onto his chest, the fabric separating the contact of your skin with his. This was everything you needed right now.

"We'll get through this... these powers of yours ain't gonna scare me away" He said, rubbing your back gently.

"Thank you..." You muttered.

After you escaped and made it safely away from your prison. Homelander was alerted of your escape a few hours later. He arrives at the facility, walking down the hallway as the doctors walking by were scared to see him and trying their best to avoid his sight. Once he walks in the office of the head security, the man sprung up almost instinctly.

"Sir" He greets him. Homelander doesn't say anything but stare at him... before breaking into a smile.

"Great job, at least you're good at failing at your job. Now show me" He walks over to the guard's side who's hurrying to click a few things on his computer to show him what he came here for.

"The tracker we planted in her is working well and fine. She's currently in a vehicle heading somewhere"

"Good... it's like sending a cat to a bunch of rats" Homelander then gave the man a strong pat on the shoulder.

"Do we go after them sir?"

"No, keep an eye on her for now. I'll tell you when the time is ready" Without any further discussion, he left the office. A plan already set in his mind.

(I might make a part 2 but I'm not sure if anyone would be interested, it'll be sort of fluff where the boys figure out her powers, some angst? Idk, tell me if you think I should)

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ghostbeam · 2 years

Text

can you feel my heart beating like a hammer? | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

You watch from your spot, shoulders tense as you anticipate the arrival of yet another creepy clown or zombie when you see him.

He’s not like the other actors. He’s not quick with his movements and doesn’t yell or jump at anyone. His terror lies in the fact that he does none of those things, that he stands across from you and stares.

And then he grins.

Your stomach turns but not in fear.

Notes: hiiiiii so this is my scare actor!dabi fic. It’s my halloween/October fic for the month!! I’ve been working on this for a while and I’ve finally finished only five days before halloween lmao. Wanna thank mari for calling me after class that day where we had the same exact thought of this at the same time and I had to pull over to put it in my notes (and also for thinking of this title cause I was struggling) anyways I hope you enjoy!!! thanks for reading!! (Title from help I'm alive by metric) listen to the playlist here!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, f!reader, explicit content, scare actor!dabi, Dabi is touya (quite literally he is not called Dabi in this at all ajhssjsjjss), sex in public, fearplay (kind of), multiple orgasms, overstimulation (very brief), oral f!receiving, fingering, multiple instances where Dabi rests his hand on ur neck but never chokes u, biting (shoulder, neck), ‘baby’ and ‘angel’ as pet names, use of ‘good girl’, frightening (debatable im not that good) depictions of scare actors and haunts, one description of gory makeup, fake weapons

Words: 5k

You’re scared, terrified actually, and your friends are nowhere in sight.

You’re cold. You’re hungry. A clown with a chainsaw won’t stop following you around, and you just want to go home.

When you were invited to the local haunted house, your first instinct was to say no. You’d always been afraid of these things, anything with jumpscares, anything not contained in the screen of your television, you decided wasn’t for you. But your friends insisted and explained that the local haunt wouldn’t be anything like any of those expensive theme parks with big productions and highly trained actors.

But if you were being honest with yourself, it all felt the same to you. It was maybe a little creepier, out in a field in the middle of nowhere, the closest business a couple of miles away, and no background checks for the actors. Uneasiness washed over you the moment you stepped through the wooden gates.

And now you’re alone.

Scare actors are coming at you left and right, all dressed in dark makeup or clown outfits or fake blood, each with their very own faux weapon used for getting just close enough to you without touching. They’re targeting you because you’re scared, you realize because you scream and clutch your head and run in all different directions when they come at you.

It’s quite the production for a local haunt. It’s eerie, smoke machines pour fog throughout, and music that ranges from creepy carnival tunes to popular horror movie scores blare through worn-out speakers, which add to the effect. The actors are painted with precision or covered in liquid latex and black blood that oozes from fake wounds. You feel like you’re in a horror movie. You might be in one, for all you know, which is what scares you the most

You finally find a moment to calm yourself down, seeking a single moment of peace against a makeshift wall on the outside of a haunted house.

You take a moment to look around you, out over the sea of people and costumes. You observe the way the actors jump at the attendees, throwing themselves forward or making loud noises, dragging and tapping their fake weapons against the ground. It’s complete chaos, and you thought that seeing it from the sidelines would make it less terrifying for you, but it doesn’t. You don’t want to be here.

You watch from your spot, shoulders tense as you anticipate the arrival of yet another creepy clown or zombie when you see him.

And then he grins.

Your stomach turns but not in fear.

He’s not scary, just strange, and oddly handsome too, you think. You don’t smile back, but you keep your eyes on him. You aren’t sure if his smile is part of his act or if he means it. Somehow, both make you uneasy.

He’s slow as he moves towards you, calculated. His eyes rake up and down your body as he approaches. As he comes closer, you can finally get a good look at his face, smudged with paint over scars that fall underneath both eyes and line his jaw. What looks to be like staples sit in the seam between the marked and unmarked skin, and you can’t tell if they’re part of the costume or if he wears the piercings when he’s not working. You kind of hope he does.

He looms over you, close enough that you can smell a mixture of sweat and cologne on his skin, but not enough to touch you. You think you want him to, though. His eyes are a brilliant blue, almost glowing against the night.

He’s beautiful. You can tell even hidden under the face paint. His costume is stitched together with yarn at the seams of his shoulders, silver staples that imitate the piercings on his face scatter the stitches. His coat is long and reaches the middle of his calves, and a loose white shirt drapes over his chest. His dark jeans wear the same stitches as his coat, and his dark boots are big, the sound of the soles against the pavement is loud as he steps even closer to you.

Touya’s never had any particular interest in any of the attendees of the haunt before. Sure, he’s taken girls home who’d bravely slipped their numbers into his pocket or caught him when his shift was over, but no one had ever caught his eye quite like you.

He’d seen you cowering before his coworkers, running away and screaming, not unlike many of the people around you. But he had noticed you.

And now you’re standing not even an inch away from him, staring up at him with wide eyes and trembling so hard he can almost feel you. You’re adorable. He wants to see you like this underneath him with your back arched, pretty lips parted for him, just for him.

Your moment is interrupted by the revving of a chainsaw and the dragging of metal against pavement as yet another clown laughs loudly in your ear. You jump, unconsciously moving forward, finding yourself in the arms of the patchwork man you’d been so captivated by. You squeak out a small sorry, but he says nothing, smirking down at you.

Dabi’s heart leaps in his chest. He wants to steal you away, pull you into one of the haunts, and fuck you behind one of the walls. No one would suspect a thing if he covered you in enough fake blood to pass as one of them, making you scream in pleasure against the screams of fear.

His eyes flicker to your lips before he lowers his hands to your waist, squeezing tightly before backing away from you and leaving you alone without a word.

…

After another half an hour of running from scare actors and looking for your friends, you finally find them near a food stand, unassuming and completely unaware you’d disappeared.

You sprint towards them, getting good at dodging anyone jumping at you after all of that time alone. Your best friend spots you first, her eyes widening as she walks towards you.

“Where the fuck did you go?” She questions with a drink in one hand that flashes different colors from the plastic light-up ice in the liquid.

“You guys left me!” You exclaim, “I’ve been dodging those fuckers for an hour alone!”

“We thought you were with us. I promise! We went in that one haunt with the possession scene and when we came out you were gone!” She explains, but you can’t help but feel a little annoyed. You didn’t even want to come out tonight. You’d only said yes because she begged.

“Did you look for me?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Look,” She begins, “Everything is so chaotic here. Everyone was moving on to the next house! I figured you’d catch up!”

“You suck.” You pout.

“I know I do. I’m sorry!” She pleads. “I’ll buy you something to eat. C’mon.”

She buys your meal and leads you to some of the wooden picnic tables in the small area, the rest of your friends already occupying some of the space. You’re treated warmly as they all throw questions at you about where you went. You resist the urge to act upset or make a scene, explaining that you’d been running around and looking for them while trying to avoid fake chainsaws and machetes. You’re in the middle of telling a story about getting caught in a corner with one of the zombies when your friends start to erupt in a fit of giggles. You pause your story, confused at their sudden reaction when you feel someone blow at your neck.

It only surprises you, all the fear expelled from your body in your hour of terror. You turn to look at the source and there he is again, the patchwork man from earlier. You’re not scared of him, this time, only intrigued.

He hovers over you, moving and contorting his neck in a way that you assume is meant to be creepy, but it does nothing but amuse you.

You smile and let out a small laugh, looking up at him through your lashes. Dabi feels his jeans tighten at the way you look up at him, eyebrows pulled up in a pout, leaning closer as he grins.

“Are you ever gonna tell me your name?” You ask him, eyes flickering to his lips for a moment. He shakes his head slowly, maintaining eye contact while holding a finger to his mismatched lips. You give him yours, but he only stares. You’re once again pulled in by the blue in his eyes, finding yourself wondering if they’re a different shade than the last time you saw him. “Not even if I beg?”

He’ll punish you for that later, Dabi thinks.

You watch him reach behind his back, still bent over towards your face, readying yourself for what you think might be the fake machete he carried before.

He pulls a single yellow daisy from behind him, clutching it between two fingers as he holds it out to you. You know he must have picked it from one of the patches of green that scatter the field. Your friends giggle some more, whispering things you're unable to focus on at the moment. You look between his painted face and the flower, reaching out to take it from him.

Suddenly feeling bashful, you lean away from him, smelling the flower and twirling it between your fingers. The smile he gives you is genuine.

He leans closer to you, bringing a finger up to his cheek and tapping twice to signal something. He wants a kiss, you realize. It’s against the rules, and he knows this. Scare actors are not meant to touch the guests, and doing so could get them into a lot of trouble. But Touya wants to touch you. He remembers the feeling of you pressed against him when you’d jumped in fear of the clown from earlier. He’d broken the rule then, and he had no problem with breaking it again.

If not for your friends' excited squeals around you, you’re sure you would have frozen. You push yourself forward, placing a kiss to his cheek before you can talk yourself out of it. He smiles wide as you pull away, that creepy grin still on his face as he stares down at you.

When he stands up, he begins to back away slowly without a word. You watch him walk, clutching a fist over his heart and giving you a giddy smile as he leaves.

You feel disheartened knowing you might not see him again tonight. You place the flower behind your ear and take your eyes off where he disappeared.

…

You and your friends stay until closing. As the night goes on, you find yourself getting used to the fear. You think you like it now, adrenaline running through your body as you're chased with chainsaws or reached for through windows inside of the haunts. It’s exhilarating. You understand why people like these so much.

Scare actors are practically chasing people out, running at them with their weapons until they make it through the gates. It’s complete mayhem, especially with the number of people now pushed to the front of the area.

Amidst the chaos, you find yourself alone again. You search the crowd, avoiding the actors jumping toward you as you make your way through the sea of people. You push through different groups of people until you make it to a small open spot amidst the crowd. It’s there that you see the man from before, jumping at different people who walk by him. He drags his fake machete against the floor and it scrapes with a metallic grinding sound. He’s terrifying, you think. Not to you, but to anyone around him, he must be terrifying.

He’s tall and imposing, completely silent as he pushes his weapon toward anyone he can reach. He’s fast, too, running up on different people, the sound of his big black boots is loud against the pavement.

You can’t move. You can only stare at him, completely in his element. He’s good at what he does, better and far more intimidating than any of the other actors you’ve encountered tonight. But somehow, you aren’t scared at all, not of him and not in any real way. Maybe you should be, though.

He turns around, looking around as he walks from his last set of victims before his eyes find you. A smile crosses his face and he lifts a hand, wagging his fingers to wave at you. You avert your eyes in embarrassment that he caught you, even in the crowd of people.

He stalks towards you, dragging his weapon behind him. He’s menacing, and you can’t help but feel a little afraid of him, wondering if he’ll jump towards you or do something to scare you all over again. When he approaches, you watch him smirk from under his makeup, close enough to see the texture of his skin and the blue of his eyes. He runs a finger down your arm until he reaches your hand, intertwining your fingers and pulling you along with him.

You know you shouldn’t follow him. This is how people go missing, how people are found in a ditch with their friends crying on the news about how they were just with them.

But you can’t bring yourself to care. You find him endlessly fascinating, from the way he moves to his dark demeanor. He’s strange and unsettling, but you like it. You want strange and unsettling, contrary to your feelings earlier in the night.

Dabi can feel your hand trembling in his. He rubs soothing circles with his thumb over the top of your hand. He doesn’t want you to be too afraid of him. He wants you to like him. He’s almost embarrassed by it, seeking the approval of a random girl who visited the haunt. When he looks back at you, your eyes are wide, mouth agape as you let him pull you through the crowd of people. You look at him with curiosity and intrigue more than fear. Dabi feels his heart beat faster in his chest.

He pulls you to one of the haunts, one you went through earlier with a zombie rock band, a ridiculous theme that you remember scaring you the least. Guitar blares through the speakers as you enter, moving the curtains back that cover each entrance. You realize that the place is empty, with no scare actors ready to jump out, no one on the sets or acting out any of the scenes you remember. It’s just the two of you now.

You feel his arm curl around your waist as he pulls you behind one of the openings in the walls. It’s one of the spaces that the scare actors use to hide in before jumping out at the guests. It’s surprisingly spacious, and there’s a door that must lead outside of the structure or into another room. You don’t have time to ponder it before you’re pushed up against one of the walls, his hands squeezing your hips as he looks down at you with hungry eyes.

“I’ve wanted to touch you like this all night long. You were so fucking scared.” He speaks, lowering his head to the crook of your neck, and you almost gasp at the sound of his voice. It’s rough, gravelly. It vibrates against your body where he brushes his lips against you. “It was so cute.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling him grin against your skin before licking over your pulse point. You moan, the sound almost swallowed up by the loud eerie rock music reverberating in the makeshift building. Dabi wants to make you louder. He wants you to scream.

“Are you—hah—gonna tell me your name?” You ask him as he continues to kiss your neck. His hands are all over you, squeezing the flesh of your hips, running his hands over your thighs and your arms, hands underneath your sweater, up your skirt. You can’t focus on anything but his hands and his mouth and his hard body pressed up against yours. You almost want him closer, if that’s even possible, tangling your fingers into his hair and arching your body into his.

You’re sure your neck must be covered in smudgy face paint. His mouth is probably a muddy mess, or maybe all of the paint is gone, but you don’t care. His lips feel good on your skin. He feels good.

It barely registers that he ignores your question. “What? You’re back to not speaking?”

He’s silent, once again, pulling away from your neck to smile down at you. You were right, the paint is almost completely gone from the bottom half of his face, leaving behind the sight of scars in contrast to the unmarked skin on his cheeks. You’re panting, looking into his eyes as he reveals nothing. He leans forward to kiss you, catching you by surprise even though he was sucking on your neck just moments ago. The kiss is short, with barely enough time to feel his tongue against yours before he pulls away.

“So mysterious.” You quip, trying to save yourself from the embarrassment of being affected by one kiss. He pulls his long coat from his shoulders to reveal surprisingly muscular arms covered in the same scars and piercings that litter his face. He continues with his vow of silence as he starts to lower himself before you, placing kisses against your chest and your stomach as he falls to his knees. His hands sneak up your skirt. “Oh, fuck.”

He raises the front of your skirt, moving one of your hands to hold it against your stomach. He runs his hands up the front of your thighs, looking up at you through thick lashes, spreading your legs even further apart. He brings a hand forward, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clothed cunt. He gives you a look, and he doesn’t need to speak for you to know what he’s thinking, for you to be embarrassed by how wet you are from just a little groping.

He moves his hand and leans forward, pulling you by your hips and burying his face in between your legs. You feel his tongue through your underwear, gasping at the feeling, simultaneously too much and not enough. You bury your free hand in his hair as he licks you through the layer of fabric. Your panties are thoroughly ruined, your inner thighs sticky with your slick. He groans against you, tasting what little of you he can through the barrier. He pulls away and rips them from your thighs, wasting no time before he’s in between your legs once more.

“God!” It’s not his name, but it’ll do. “Fuck, right there!”

He laps at your entrance, completely lost in making you feel good. Every moan he pulls from you only spurs him on, tonguing your cunt like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. He thinks that maybe it is.

You buck your hips against his face, fingers curling into the fabric of your skirt and pulling at his hair as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to your orgasm. He runs one hand up your thigh, pulling away for a moment to slip a finger inside of you. He groans at how much of a mess you’ve become, how much of a mess he’s made you. He adds another finger, watching how easily they slide in and out of you. He looks up at you, silently asking if it’s something you like, and the moan you let out tells him that it is. You nod at him, moving your hips while he moves his fingers in and out of you.

“Please!” You whine, missing the feeling of his tongue on you. “Need more!”

He slows the movements of his fingers down, pulling another unsatisfied groan from your throat. It’s cute how impatient you are, how he’s reduced you to such a hungry little thing, all for him.

He moves one hand behind your knee, hiking your leg over one of his shoulders and earning a surprised gasp from your lips. His tongue finds your clit again, running tight circles around you as his fingers speed up.

You grind against his face, closer to the edge than before, moaning at the sensation of his mouth against your entrance. He curls his fingers inside of you and licks over your clit, his motions repetitive and focused as he feels you clench around his fingers. You’re close, and he can feel it, and it’s taking everything in him not to beg you to come for him.

“I’m gonna—” a strangled cry escapes your throat as he brings you to the edge. He slows his movements down as you ride out your orgasm, thrusting his fingers slowly and licking languid strokes over your clit. Hips spamming against him, you have to push his head away from your sex, breathing heavily and running your fingers through the hair falling in his eyes. He’s gorgeous when he looks up at you through a glistening grin. He rises from the ground, bringing the two fingers, now covered in your slick, towards his mouth. You whimper as you watch him wrap his own lips around the two digits, his eyes never leaving yours. He releases them with a sticky pop, surging forwards to capture your lips with his.

It’s better than the one before, longer, slower. You can taste yourself on his tongue. He slots his body against yours as he deepens the kiss, and you can feel him hard against your thigh. His hands run up your sides, over your breasts up to your sternum. He rests one hand against the front of your neck, gently and not squeezing, just to keep you there against him. He slips his tongue into your mouth while his other hand sneaks up the back of your sweater. He has your bra off before you have any time to think, and then he runs his fingers over your nipples.

He’s much gentler than you thought he’d be, especially under the circumstances. He has you pressed up against a wall in public. You’re someone he’s only just met, and you know you must not be the first person he’s done this with.

But he kisses you like he loves you.

And maybe it’s the adrenaline or the raucous music preventing you from thinking clearly, but you think that maybe he could. Maybe you want him too.

God, you’re crazy.

He sucks your tongue into his mouth again and you tug at the strands of hair at the back of his head. Your movements become more frantic as you push your bodies closer together. Twitching hands find the front of his jeans, thumbing the button open and stroking your hand over him. He groans into your mouth, a faint curse as he pushes his hips forward. He bites your lip hard before pulling away from you, pulling a shiny square package from his pocket and releasing himself from the constraint of his underwear. He tears it open with his teeth and rolls the condom on, reaching down to hike your leg back up like it had been before. With one strong hand holding you up from behind your knee, he drags the head of his cock through your folds, pulling another moan from you that you try to suppress in the crook of his neck.

His lips find yours once more, swallowing the sounds you make as he sinks into you. You arch your back, pushing yourself closer as he stretches you. The stretch is almost too much, even with the mess he’s made of you, but you feel good, full, complete.

He starts slow, long drawn-out thrusts of his hips that drive you crazy. He touches you everywhere, squeezing anywhere he can get his hands on, sucking on your neck, your chest. He kisses over your face, sweet pecks of his lips to your jaw and cheeks. It’s overwhelming, the attention he gives you, the need to put your pleasure before his, to make you feel wanted. You are wanted.

He’s getting desperate now, speeding up as he moves against you. He reaches so deep, keeping your leg hiked up with your back against the wall. You aren’t gonna last much longer, not with his tongue in your mouth, not with the sound of his own whines meeting your ears as he quickens his thrusts.

“Please—” You beg, digging your fingers into his hips. You’re so close, clenching around him so tightly he can barely think. His eyes find yours as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to your release, neon blue clouding your vision before you throw your head back against the wall behind you. Pleasure wracks through your body as he pulls you even closer. You fall limp in his arms, feeling him release your leg and pull out of you. You rest your forehead against his as you calm your breathing.

“Think you can give me one more?” The rare sound of his voice startles you. His hand finds the back of your head, pulling away to look into your eyes. Dazed, you nod at him, watching him smile down at you. “Good girl.”

He kisses your cheek, and you let him spin you around to face the wall. You brace yourself against it, two hands flat on the surface as you feel him behind you. He places sloppy kisses against your neck, slowly entering you once more. You gasp, still sensitive from before, but he shushes you, nibbling on your earlobe as he moves in and out of you.

“Your—hah—your name.” You whine, barely getting the words out as he quickens his pace. He groans behind you, leaning forward to bite your shoulder, thrusting in quick short motions against you. “Please! Fuck! Wanna—”

“You wanna what, baby?” He breathes against your ear. He places a kiss beneath it, peppering more down your neck as he slows down.

“Don’t! Please don’t slow down.” You beg, pushing yourself against him.

He leans his large frame against your back, bringing an arm around the front of your chest, resting his hand at the base of your neck. He pulls your back against him, lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna—ngh—scream it.” You pant, feeling his thrusts speed up at your admission. “Wanna scream your name.”

“‘Course you do, angel.” He coos, running a hand down the front of your body until it slips up your skirt. You feel his fingers against your clit and gasp, twitching from the sensitivity. It’s too much. You want more. “Call me Touya.”

“Touya!” You cry, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. Touya, Touya, Touya. It sounds perfect falling from your lips. You were meant to say it, meant to scream it just like this. “Wanna come. Make me come, Touya.”

He buries his face into your neck, biting down hard as he speeds up the movements of his hips and his fingers on your clit. You scream, just how he’s wanted you to all night, the feeling of pain and pleasure leaving you dizzy.

“Gonna—” You choke, moaning his name once again. He groans against your skin.

“I know, baby, me too.” His thrusts become sloppier, feeling himself approach the edge, but not before you. You scream his name one last time, reaching your high just moments before him. He cries out after, pulling your face towards his to kiss you deeply once more.

Realizing where you are, music still playing loudly through the speakers, your body up against a rough wooden wall, and Touya’s tongue in your mouth, you force yourself to pull away. He moves away from you, taking a moment to discard the condom and pick up your ruined underwear from the ground. You lay your head against the wall, throwing your arm over your eyes and laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

You think about the feeling of dread from the beginning of the night, how quickly you ran from the men in masks and makeup, the fake chainsaws and knives. And now you’d been fucked by one, one you’d learned the name of just seconds ago.

When Touya returns, you’ve fixed yourself, putting your bra back on and pulling your skirt down, though you’re still without underwear. He walks towards you, cupping your face with one large hand and looking down at you.

“You okay?” He questions, genuine concern in his cyan gaze. You give him a shy smile and nod. He narrows his eyes before giving you a sly smile. “I need verbal confirmation.”

“I’m okay, Touya.” You tell him, wrapping your hand around his wrist and resting it there.

“Fuck,” he speaks, “say it again.”

“You should’ve told me sooner.” You say, ignoring the command. He rolls his eyes, kissing your forehead before pulling away. He takes your hand in his and opens the door beside you.

“C’mon let’s get you cleaned up, then I’ll take you home.” He leads you through the door, down a labyrinth of alleys all connected by the various haunts. He looks back at you and shrugs sheepishly. “Sorry. Your friends are probably gone.”

“Probably.” You don’t care, but you should. And you shouldn’t let him take you home. You shouldn’t let him touch your face gently or take you to one of the twenty-four-hour diners nearby after you leave. You shouldn’t give him your number. You shouldn’t let him take you out once, twice, three times. You shouldn’t let him sneak you into a different haunt the next time you visit him at work.

You do anyway.

#dabi x reader #dabi x female reader #touya todoroki x reader #Touya Todoroki x female reader #bnha x reader #dabi smut #bnha smut #ghost.writes #ghost.fic

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winterrrnight · 10 months

Note

prompt 21 and 23 with rafe pls🙏🏻

thank you for the request anon!! Can't believe it took me this long to write this, but here we finally have it! I hope you like this and it is up to your expectations <3

cupcakes

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: rafe has a little fun with you as you are baking cupcakes

WARNINGS: fluffy fluff fluff!! + I do beta read my fics but sometimes I miss little errors so if you see any grammatical/spelling error(s) please ignore them :)

EDITH SPEAKS: so I've been getting so late with the celly requests!! The celly ended days ago and I have quite a few requests in my inbox at the moment. I hit a little rough patch and didn't have much time to work on my fics, but I'm doing okay and I'm here to continue writing!! I hope you all like this <3

PROMPTS REQUESTED: "put me down!" "I'm not putting you down." "Put. Me. Down." "You're enjoying it, I know you are." & "Am I your lockscreen?" "You weren't supposed to see that."

100 followers celebration (now closed) || navigation

Wheezie's birthday is coming up and you wanted to make cupcakes for her, just as a little gift. You had initially decided to make those on your own, but when you shared the idea with Rafe, he insisted he helps you.

Knowing the last thing he would do is help, it took a lot of convincing from his side to get you to say yes. You finally gave in and said yes, but you definitely weren't happy about it.

And now here you are, glaring at him as he stifles his laughter, because he successfully applied the cupcake batter to your nose and cheeks, putting a cherry on the top of your nose, making you look like a clown.

You aren't very sure how it happened; one second you're searching through your spice drawer to find the cinnamon powder and just as you turn around the next second, you're basically being attacked with food.

"RAFE!" You yell, the coldness of the batter on your cheeks causing a very small shiver to go down your spine.

He can't keep his laughter in, so he bursts out laughing, but you don't know why he's finding it all so amusing, especially your angry expression should be making him scared.

It takes a few moments for Rafe's laughter to calm down, but when it does, he gently removes all the batter from your face and also gives you the cherry to eat.

Another few minutes later you have your cupcake batter filled in your moulds and are ready to go in the oven.

"Could you set a timer for 20 minutes?" You say to Rafe, handing him your phone as you're busy keeping the cupcakes in the oven. He takes the phone from you and just as he turns it on, the lockscreen grabs his attention instantaneously.

It's a picture of him smiling as he's looking up at the sky. He has no idea you took this picture of him, but he does have to say, he looks so good in it.

"Am I your lockscreen?" He says, and you look up at him, suddenly remembering about it. You feel your cheeks heat up as you walk a little closer to him.

You both haven't been dating for long, it's barely been a complete two months, so even when you do the little things for each other, it tends to send little firecrackers in your stomach each time.

"You weren't supposed to see that," you say, your face still red as you try to grab your phone from Rafe's hands. But you fail miserably, as he starts to run away from you with your phone still in his hand, his giggling not stopping.

"Rafe!" You call out as you run behind him, trying to catch ahold of him but he's had a headstart and he's a good distance ahead of you. You've completely lost track of him and you're calling out his name, trying to figure out where he is, but you don't get any response back.

After a bit more of searching, you spot him on the balcony, his back towards you. You walk up to him and whisper, "boo!" in his ear. He turns around with the biggest grin on his face, and he gives you your phone back.

"I think that's pretty cute," he says, as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smile into his chest, thinking about all the times you've stared at his picture on your lockscreen without realising how much time has passed.

Suddenly, he picks you up off your feet and you let out a scream at his actions, you being hoisted up on his shoulder now.

"Put me down!" You say, as he takes you both out of the balcony and back into the house.

"I'm not putting you down," he states.

"Put. Me. Down." You say, more sternly this time, but he doesn't listen to you.

"You're enjoying it, I know you are." He chuckles. Well, technically, he isn't wrong, but you would never admit that to his face because that would just only boost his ego a lot more.

When he reaches the living room, he finally puts you down on the couch, and gently gets on top of you, careful enough to not exert his complete body weight on you.

"Hey," he whispers, moving his face closer to yours, and nudging your nose with his.

"Hi," you giggle, feeling his hair brush your cheeks which creates a tickling sensation. He smiles, and presses his lips softly against yours. His lips move slowly, trying their best to show you how much you means to him. You sigh with satisfaction as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer.

You gently pull his entire body weight on you, allowing him to rest properly. His head rests on your chest and your fingers massage his scalp gently, causing his mind to gradually feel more sleepy.

You gently smile at the sight in front of you, and you move your fingers to brush out the hair falling in his eyes. He gently shifts at the movement, moving his face a little closer to yours.

"I'm not too heavy right?" He mumbles sleepily, his eyes still closed.

"Oh no baby, you could never be heavy," you whisper, resuming running your fingers through his hair. Very soon, your boy has drifted off in your arms.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @ragingsammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff

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picnokinesis · 5 months

Text

thirteenth doctor and spymaster fic recs

all clear by wreckageofstars (8k, 1 chapter, thoschei/gen) summary: London’s on fire, the Doctor’s trapped in her own head, and only her worst enemy can save her. //I know I literally always rec this author in these lists, I know, but like if you've read these fics, you'll know I'm justified because they are all just brilliant. This one is no exception. The doctor and the master are so wonderfully on point, with this antagonistic push and pull between them both, whilst they both desperately try and avoid the fact that they actually still care deeply for one another - but they also hate each other's guts at the same time! And the master is there to cause problems on purpose whilst the doctor is an absolute mess post-Orphan 55 and making everything worse. An absolute joy of a fic.

the gardener by riptheh (6k, 1 chapter, thoschei/gen) summary: The Master kills because it's all he has left. Until it's not. //I had a reaaaally hard time picking fics for this post, because there are so many fics with thirteen and spymaster that I absolutely adore - but I knew from the get go that this one had to be on here, come what may. It's much more of a character study focused on the master than anything else, but of course anything about the master is also about the doctor - and it's such a beautiful exploration of the master and his relationship with death (and then, life). Just absolutely gorgeous - and surprisingly uplifting by the end? Anyway. This fic got me good, so definitely make sure you check it out.

the art of dying by lupescx (10k, 4 chapters, thoschei) summary: The Master resurfaces into the Doctor's life only to die—one burst of regeneration energy and he's back on his feet. And then he dies again. And again. She can't keep doing this. //The title might have clued you in, but this one is angsty. Extremely angsty. But, wow, it's absolutely brilliant! What a fantastic exploration of the doctor and the master pushed to their absolute limits and unable to escape from an awful, inevitable cycle. It is pretty dark in places (actually a lot of these fics are, so always heed the tags!) but if that's your jive then this story is just such a treat. Highly recommend!

The Frayed by luchia (90k, 16 chapters, thoschei, wip) summary: The TARDIS recruits a rescue team for the Doctor after the Judoon take her away, and the Master really shouldn't go. Particularly if it includes having to hang around a freakish temporal monstrosity like Jack Harkness. Then again, what does he have to lose? He could die, sure, but that means nothing when he always (always always always) comes back, whether he wants to or not. //Okay so, in my humble opinion, this fic is some of the best spymaster characterisation that I've ever seen across the entire fandom. It's exceptional - the prose is just so full of character, brilliantly unreliable and just so SO fascinating and painful in equal measure (can you tell that I like angst? I love angst so much). And also just the imaginativeness of the story itself is absolutely incredible? There's some fantastic things in there about gallifreyan as a language and Time Lord culture and TARDISes - and, of course, the doctor and the master are completely awful in the best kind of way. And if the word count looks too much for you - consider just reading chapter 16. Yep. Just that one. Like, that rewrote my brain. I read it three times the day that it posted, and I've lost count of how many times I've read it since then. So, like, please. But also you should really really read the entire thing because it's brilliant

Ust-Kut by yonderdarling (1k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: Unfortunately, the Master survived. Unfortunately, he finds her TARDIS. Unfortunately, he wants to talk. //Okay. So, this fic? Is possibly one of my favourite spydoc fics ever. And you might be thinking "but, taka, it's only 1k, how can it be?" - well, trust me, it just can. Short but sweet but an absolute gut-punch at the same time. Such a fascinating look at the relationship between these two, the push and pull and the knife edge that they're both on all the time - and it's so tactile? I think that's what gets me about it, if I'm honest. Anyway, absolutely beautiful writing - succinct, but boy, does every word count. It's just so so good, guys.

and without you (is how i disappear) by empty_of_dust (4k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: “It’s simple,” she says, impassive, like she’s not holding their very history at knife-point. “Start talking, or I start cutting.” //So, funny story, this author only started posting spydoc fic about a year ago, but oh my word, my guys, they are insanely good. They just get these two in a way that drives me absolutely feral, and their writing style is such a joy to read. I was extremely torn on which fic of theirs to rec, but I settled on this one in the end. The sheer concept of it is absolutely brilliant and gut-wrenching in the most spydoc way ever: a mid-s12 doctor uses the history between her and the master as a bargaining tool to get him to tell her what he discovered in the matrix, blood and biting including. But, yknow. just do yourself a favour and read this author's entire body of work because it is extremely worth it. You won't regret it, I'm sure.

i only speak in silences by daring_elm (2k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: The Doctor can't just leave the Master behind, so she sends him a hologram. //do you ever get a fic that you forget exists, and then you find it again and go OHHHH THIS ONE??? That was me with this fic (and, honestly, this author, who has a ton of great stuff that you should all check out). We all know that the doctor and the master are awful at communicating, but this fic is such a wonderful exploration of it - of the ways that they refuse to be vulnerable with each other, the ways that they are so angry with each other, but also can't help but be drawn back to each other all at the same time. An absolute cracker!

awake and unafraid (asleep or dead) by SleepyMaddy (5k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: The Doctor has trouble sleeping. The Master, in typical fashion, makes it worse. //There are so many fics by this author that I could recommend on a post like this, but a spydoc rec post has got to have at least one fic on there that plays with O/13, because it's just such brilliant, painful angst in the softest way. And there are a great many fics that explore it, but this one just takes the cake. Impeccable s12 angst wrapped up in o/13 softness, complete with thirteen making terrible decisions for literally the entire thing. Absolutely astounding writing, beautifully in character and just so painful in the best kind of way. This one killed me, guys. It killed me.

chaos theory by BlueLillyBlue (61k, 11 chapters, gen, wip) summary: The TARDIS has crash-landed in England, 2019, and the Doctor is acting cagey. Also, spacetime might be collapsing. So... Yaz's week isn't off to a great start. //Ohhhh man ok ok. This fic. Is a goldmine. This author is just absolutely SPOT ON with how they write thirteen, and their plots are just an absolute delight and tick soooo many boxes for me. They always make the world they're writing in feel so rich and real, whether that's a starving community on a frozen moon or a hotel in Cornwall. But this one is just so up my street because the master is in it, and oh my GOODNESS guys, it's just - it's just so, so good. If you haven't been following this one along already, then get going on that, stat!

together, we average out to dry land by hawkeishest (1k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: If she thought about it, really, this was all Ryan’s fault. He was the one who’d touched the statue. Though, to be fair to him, she should have known the temple would have some kind of psychic defence system. And now her head felt like it was cracking open. //I feel like most people have read this one because it's such a classic, but for anyone who missed it or is new to the fandom - this one is a must read. Absolutely fantastic exploration of the doctor and the master's psychic abilities and the connection between them, written with the most gorgeous descriptions. Just brilliant. Go check it out!

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ozzy-boy · 19 days

Text

"lovesick" (Scale)

A good old-fashioned sick fic with our favorite assassin.

Scale blush blush x reader

You jolt hard at the sound of something falling to the floor of your living room with a loud thud. Cautiously, you peek into the room from the kitchen, only to find your boyfriend groaning on the floor. Your window was open, and your favorite assassin was face down in front of it, his foot caught on the windowsill and his cloak falling over his head.

"...Hi Scale. You good?"

He says something into the carpet, his voice muffled beyond recognition. It sounded like he said "I'm fine.", but it also could have been "I'm dying." It's hard to tell.

A frown can't help but reach your lips as you watch him pull himself together. Scale's slow, labored movements are completely uncharacteristic- especially since being nimble and agile was something he took pride in. The idea that something is wrong has completely solidified by the time you see his face.

Scale's nose and cheeks are red. For a second, you think it might just be because he hit his face on the floor, but his eyes are hazy and he seemingly has to squint to focus. The buttons of his shirt are misaligned and he keeps getting tangled in his cloak. You theorize that his fall was caused by one of his boots being untied.

"Scale, are you feeling okay...?"

"What? Of course I am."

He says it as if the idea that he was anything other than the picture of perfect health was laughable. His words are hard to believe, however, especially since you were watching him struggle to realign his cloak after it spun to his front, the hood partially obscuring his face and the clasp sitting against the back of his neck.

"Okay, no you aren't. You're sick."

"I am not!" He protests. Scale finally gets his cloak off and tosses it to the ground in frustration. "I am an assassin. Assassins don't get sick- Achoo!"

He sneezes, sniffles, then looks up to meet your eyes sheepishly.

"...Okay, that was bad timing, but I stand by my initial statement."

You can't help but roll your eyes. You loved him to death, but Scale was the most dramatic and stubborn person you knew.

"Woah- hey!"

Grabbing both his arms, you spin Scale around and push him down so that he's sitting on your couch. The fact that you're able to do it at all without any real resistance from his end is telling.

"W-What are you doing?"

By the time he's able to get his sentence out, you've unclasped the front of his shirt and opened it along with his pants. You're pulling one of his boots off by the time he starts to protest.

"You- I'm not a baby! Cut that out!"

"Let me take care of you, love."

You hit him with a dreaded triple threat- a kiss to his forehead, your hands splayed across his chest, the sweet pet name. Breath gets caught within Scale's throat and he sighs, slow and shaky. He can't deny your care when you treat him so sweetly.

"...Fine. Just know that I find this demeaning and beneath me."

You roll your eyes at his drama but he doesn't fight back when you help him change into a random set of baggy sweatpants and a big t-shirt. Luckily you've got some stuff laying around that fits him comfortably.

You're practically a magician but for sickness. Scale has no idea how you're able to swaddle him so quickly, but he finds himself overwhelmingly surrounded by all things you. He's laying on your couch, in your clothes, wrapped in one of your blankets. Being treated this way would probably be humiliating if he wasn't more focused on how much his head and sinuses hurt.

"Okay, stay here. I'm going to run to the store and-"

The assassin's quick skills haven't depleted completely, not yet anyway. Before you can move away, he catches your wrist gently. He swallows, too nervous to say what's really on his mind. It seems that he doesn't have to, and he can't tell if it's a blessing or a curse that you can read him so well.

"...Actually, I think it's better if I stay here for a while."

You settle down instead, maneuvering so that his head was in your lap. With gentle hands in his hair, Scale feels himself slowly relaxing.

"I..." Scale hesitates. The words he wants to say never quite align with with he actually feels, and this time is no exception. The second that sappy words of love and appreciation rise to his mind, they're overtaken by the urge to bury them deep in his heart and never let them out. Maybe his judgement is impaired from his illness, but he pushes through, just this once.

"I don't understand you at all sometimes. You're so... soft, and kind..."

"I know." You answer breezily, a joking smile gracing your face. "I'm kind of the best."

"Modest, too..." He scoffs, and it makes you chuckle. He can't help but lean his head over to rest on your stomach, feeling the rise and fall of your breathing.

"I-uhm. I love you. Even though it makes me sound like a dork when I say it out loud..."

"You are a dork."

"Wow. Thanks."

"I'm just teasing." You smile. "I love you too, Scale."

Based on the way he feels his stomach flutter and his heart beat rapidly in his chest, Scale has a sneaking suspicion that he's sick in more ways than one.

#blush blush game #ozzy writing #blush blush #blush blush scale #scale blush blush #scale #scale x reader #blush blush scale x reader

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xbalayage · 9 months

Note

Can you pretty please do a fluffy Silvio fic where he's had a rough day and uses you to ground himself, cuddles and kisses and snuggles and super fluffy love sweetness, soft words, Silvio just being his unguarded sweet boy self in the privacy of his room and your embrace

Comfortable

Silvio/Reader Fluff WC: 639

In the comfort of your shared room was the only time he was willing to completely let himself unravel at the seams; the place where he felt the most at peace. With the hustle and bustle of every day life as a royal falling heavy on his shoulders, nothing felt better than the embrace of your warmth and the rhythm of your loving heart in his ear as he laid his head on your chest. His eyes shut after heaving a heavy sigh, using your heart to try and relax his mind. Your fingers were like lapping waves against the shores of his hair, gently soothing and combing through while your other hand laid busy with a book you'd been reading. Every damn day with you, he couldn't believe it more and more. That he could ever be this deserving of you and your pure heart. He'd take it all: the good, the bad and the ugly, as long as it was always you. Those eyes, that smile; he'd do anything for that smile, to preserve it. Name the price and it was yours - but you never wanted a thing. All you ever wanted was the easy going, mundane things that didn't cost a dime. Sure, sometimes it confused him but then he had to remind himself that your whole life, you were raised a commoner with no influence of impurity. The simple, down-to-earth and from the heart things were much more valuable to you than any jewel ever could be. And he was jealous of that; curious, of what life could've been had he just not have been raised in royalty at all. Would he have found the meaning to happiness by those means? Probably not -- if things had strayed from the course your love had sailed on, some other mutt would've gotten their dirty paws...-- "You're grumbling," your angelic voice pulled him from his thoughts, eyes shifting from the pages to observe him with smiling eyes that matched your lips, "what's bothering you?" Fingers gave pause to sweep the bangs from his eyes. Ahh shit.. don't look at him with those sweet, innocent eyes. He's a sucker for them. "Nothin' important," he said, wrapping his outstretched arms around your waist, rubbing his face into your chest like a dog cuddling up to his owner, awaiting for more pets. The sight was adorable and one only you could ever bare witness to; the once tyrant of a man completely demolished his walls to be loved like your loyal dog. You didn't lay any judgement, he was just comfortable with you. And you found it endearing. "Better get some pillows to lay comfortably on, 'cause I'm not movin' from this spot tonight." You couldn't help but laugh. He demanded the cutest things of you, how could you not accommodate him? Silvio didn't say it, but you could tell he had a bad day. If he just wanted to snuggle up to you till he felt like talking or felt better in general, then you'd happily be his life preserver and help keep him afloat. Brushing past some of his hair, your soft lips placed on the top of his head, continuing to lull him to sleep. Adjusting slightly, you reached over and grabbed his pillows to give yourself some cushion, without trying to move him too much. To your surprise, he went to sleep fairly quickly. He must've really felt drained. But it was nice to see such a vulnerable side to him. You'd gladly spend the rest of the time like this if it gives him some peace of mind and happiness. Before you decided to close your own eyes, you leaned down and whispered into his ear, continuing to pet his hair in slow motions until sleep took a hold of you as well. "I love you."

taglist; @nightghoul381, @yvelk, @celiciaa, @drachonia, @alvieeru

#silvio #silvio ricci #ikepri silvio #ikemen prince silvio #ikepri #ikemen prince #<3 #asks.#fics.#my fics.#ikemen prince fanfic #ikepri fanfic

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loosingmoreletters · 4 months

Note

Your s classes fics aew so good they've pulled me into the fandom again. Now gonna have to see how far the manwha is along! Hahha

(Also since I love your fics so much, I'm not sure if you read fics for fandom you write (I know some authors don't) but if you have any recs... 👀

Thank you!!!! I'm glad you enjoyed it and I hope you had fun with the current chapters!

And yes, I always have recs for fandoms I write because I usually only start writing once I'm truly obsessed or couldn't find a fic that hit quite the vibe I wanted.

Anyway! Fanfic recs! This list has a little bit of everything, I think!

never leave a trace by armed_teddy_bear The Han parents haunt Han Yoojin.

Last Forsythia’s Bloom by Lazlo (hinagikuhaven) Yoojin is hit by a fuck or die curse. Daunted by the knowledge of the cure that will force Yoohyun to make a terrible choice, Yoojin chooses to run away. warning for incest and dubcon

Slumbering Stars by FeltLikeWritingAndHereIAm The world ended when Han Yoojin’s brother died between his arms. Nothing will ever be the same, not even with a second chance.

Behind A Smile by Lazlo (hinagikuhaven) In hindsight, Yoohyun should have long suspected it. The abyss that laid behind his brother’s happy smiles.

does that mean by Frill Sung Hyunjae and Han Yoojin knew one another before the dungeons.

S-Rank Skill Poison Nullification! by chamsie Rather than getting famous for his taming skills, Yoojin accidentally becomes infamous for his ability to eat any and all poisons without dying.

and tomorrow may be something to look for by wovenstarlight Han Yoojin time travels instead of regressing. This causes some problems.

the ghost of you (will never leave me) by Sorbus Han Yoojin has skills geared towards the mind and lending or borrowing power. It only makes sense that if he has a skill to receive the memories of others alongside their power and skills, he could sacrifice his memories of others in return for some strength. Han Yoojin has a skill that lets him give up memories of someone he holds dear in exchange for more power. Things change, but ultimately stay the same.

Now We Have by Frill Han Yoojin can tame monsters. He meets Bak Yerim and Yoo Myeongwoo in a dungeon.

but i have promises to keep (and miles to go before i sleep) by Anonymous Of all the possible ways the Awakening broker could’ve scammed her, Bak Yerim never considered abandoning her in a dungeon as one of them. Stealing her money and never actually bringing her to a dungeon? Definitely. Taking her money and then reporting her to the authorities? Yeah. Going through the effort of bringing her here and leaving her? Wasn’t even a thought in her head. And yet here she was, completely alone in a dungeon. Well. Fuck. or, bak yerim ends up stuck in a dungeon and meetings a certain someone

My Sweetheart by armed_teddy_bear Bak Yerim finds the Han family’s home videos, featuring a young Han Yoojin and baby Han Yoohyun.

Isolation Training by armed_teddy_bear Han Yoojin kept a diary to deal with the stress of his separation with Yoohyun. While moving his brother’s things, Yoohyun finds it.

The Ghost That Lives With Us by Anonymous Hatred comes to Yoohyun as unnaturally as love, and just as intensely.

If love is the answer could you please rephrase the question? by theladyofcamelias Yoojin goes on a date with an old high school acquaintance. Everybody is perfectly normal about this in case you were wondering.

travel logs to you by flyingintherainclouds In which Han Yoojin has decided to live a quiet life, as requested of him by his dear brother, who anonymously deposits money into his bank account. He goes traveling two years after Yoohyun left, determined to come back whole. Still, he can't bear to leave without telling his brother, so he sends recordings of himself on his travels to him. secondary title: recordings to you, from my heart to yours

love me, love me not (love me) by Yersina “Hi,” Yoojin croaks into his phone. His stomach had been churning from downing too many healing potions in a row, so he’d been experimenting with just letting the coughs happen. Now he’s starting to regret that a bit. “I’d like to make an appointment.” He gives the nurse his information and stares out the window of his apartment while she looks up his records. “What are you coming in for?” “Hanahaki surgery.”

new dog's old tricks by snipsnap In which Yoojin doesn’t wake up at the broker. This changes everything. Or: being from the future gives you a lot of strings to pull. Yoojin is studying the harp.

[Final Repayment] by Frill “I…” Yoohyun let go of Yoojin’s hand. The curly-haired man stood there awkwardly before asking, “May I come in?” Yoojin stepped to the side quickly. “Come in, Yoohyun-ah. You’re always welcomed.” Yoojin was very confused when his dongsaeng appeared on his doorstep after 3 months of silence.

convention no. 138 by Yersina Yoojin strokes through Yoohyun’s hair once, and the clumps of dirt that fall from the action remind him of where they’re currently standing. “Yoohyun, why are you in a crater? What happened?” At this, Yoohyun untwists himself just enough from Yoojin’s hold to raise a handful of flames in Yoojin’s direction. “Hyung, I think I have magic powers,” he says solemnly. Yoojin stares for a long moment, long enough that Yoohyun clenches his fist, extinguishing the fire, and looks up at Yoojin worriedly. “Okay,” he manages eventually. “Okay. Sure. Yeah.” He was attacked by dinosaurs and his eleven year old brother has magic powers. That’s… this is fine.

Fighting with Fear by Turacin (Turacoverdin) When a raid of an S-class dungeon goes wrong and a conspiracy is revealed, the only option Yoojin has is to take care of it all himself. Unfortunately, he must violently kill fourteen people and an S-class snail boss to do so. The consequences of this are not what he expected.

You Before Forever by Vehemenace When Han Yoojin regresses, he isn't sitting in one of Haeyeon Guild's guest rooms. Instead, he finds himself in the middle of the streets of Seoul, disoriented, with the feeling of his brother's corpse imprinted on his hands.

#sctir #s classes that i raised #ask #fanfic recs #captainadwen

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pbpsbff · 2 months

Text

happy 1 year of r&r :)

i know it's a lil cringe to like. celebrate the birthday of a series on ao3 but r&r is literally my child. my baby. i birthed this series. and you all signed up for this when u started reading my fics thank u

soooooooo thank u guys for all the support i've received over r&r i know it's hard to stay a consistent reader when my posting schedule is entirely non existent but i am so grateful for everyone who's stuck around this long and been with me for this journey (calling it a journey because a year ago i did not have any sort of overarching plot in mind and now we're 17? 18? fics deep and so many things have happened and i'm usually just as surprised as my readers) it's rlly u guys that have kept me going this long

ANYWAY. i rewrote this like 500 times cause i hate being like. overly sappy on this account because it's way funnier to act like a celebrity with a huge ego, but real talk i am so proud of everything i've done w this series & what it's become in the past year

i've been posting my writing online since i was like 10, so we're going on almost 9 years now and i don't think i've ever ever ever received as much support for something as i have for r&r and something about that is soooo special to me??? idk it's just so nice to see a completely self indulgent series become so loved by others, especially since the only other fics i had up before gmm&m were a little more on the "i'm gonna write what seems popular right now" side???

like shoutout to everyone who was here before/around when i started the series because my account was so empty like. 2 fics and one gets updated every 6 months. r&r pulled me out of the trench i fear. it also cured me of my very horrible disease that makes me delete all my fics after 9 months and then completely disappear from a fandom so everyone say thank you r&r

but yeah idk where i'm going with this i'm very grateful for r&r and all the friends i've made and people i've met through it because i was very lonely before i rejoined tumblr and r&r was like. 90% of the reason i made my account

AND SPEAKING OF FRIENDS. thank u to

@spidergrotto & @sapoteylx for being the first ppl i met on here to openly talk about and support r&r which i thought was so so cool even if you guys have become my haters in the past few months i've known you :/ thank u r&r nation u keep me humble and miserable (and i am very thankful for our friendship i think some aspects of r&r would be very different if we'd never met)

& ao3 user classactical because you've been here since like. a month or two into the series i think and i always always always look forward to your comments because i feel like if you comment, i did a good job on the fic LOL thank u for sticking around for so long, even if ao3 has been actively working against you for a whiiiiile

there's a lot more i want to say and a lot of people i want to mention but that would take a very long time and i always feel weird tagging a lot of people in posts so just know if u read r&r we are kissing rn. or high fiving idk whatever floats ur boat i guess

but yeah anyway tl:dr happy birthday r&r i'm very proud of this series & very thankful for everyone who has read any part of it ever u guys are so cool and hot and have amazing taste and i'm taking your kudos and bookmarks etc. as you swearing your allegiance to me and promising me your undying support no matter what (legally binding btw) thank u guys

#r&r tease #ough i cannot believe r&r is a year old #happy birthday r&r you are my favorite child #gonna go post that fic now #or in like 10 minutes #idk i haven't edited anything #stay tuned

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trashboatprince · 2 months

Note

Oh i just thought of a prompt idea! Aziraphale trying to write a book? Maybe under estimating how easy it would be?

Hahaha, the massive difference between reading something and writing something.

On with the fic!

"Angel!" Crowley shouted as he loudly threw open the doors to the bookshop. "You in? Cause I know you are, I can sense your 'goody-goody' angel essence here. Plus, you tend to call me when you're gonna take a little trip or do somethin' for Heaven."

He glanced around, there looked to be more dust than usual, and he could smell the unmistakable scent of forgotten tea cups. Bleh.

Which means that Aziraphale either found a new, ancient tome to pour over for days to make sure he reads every single thing, examines every damn, little detail. Or, he's bookbinding/repairing for a commission and completely forgot about everything else in the world, including answering his blasted phone.

Crowley rolled his eyes and headed right for Aziraphale's work space, and as he got closer, he seemed to pick up on a ticking sound. And a metallic ding, followed by some odd sound, then more ticking.

Gosh, that's a combo of noises Crowley hadn't heard in person in ages, mainly you heard it in movies or TV shows from bygone times. Or, when Aziraphale decided to pull it out of its case and use it because his ancient-as-anything computer just won't cut it.

Peeking into the work space, Crowley found a mess.

Papers everywhere, stacked into what had to be piles of organized chaos, or simply discarded, judging by some of the crumbled up paper balls. And there was Aziraphale, with several cups that may or may not contain mold, glaring as he rapidly typed away at a typewriter that had to be from the 1890s.

Aziraphale growled and yanked out the paper. "No, no! Terrible, all of those were incorrect for the scene! Fine, attempt number fifteen should be it..."

The typewriter suddenly had paper again and Aziraphale began typing away, muttering under his breath.

"Hell's teeth, angel, what's all this about?" Crowley asked, picking up one of the discarded papers. He looked at what was on it, and it seemed to be dialogue between two characters, though the conversation was very prissy, very Aziraphale-like.

Aziraphale squeaked and turned, blinking owlishly behind his little glasses. "Oh! Good... uhh... what time is it, dear?"

"It's 10 in the morning."

"Ah! Right, good morning! Dreadfully sorry, been a bit busy lately."

"I can see that." Crowley tossed the paper aside. "You writin' somethin'?"

Aziraphale looked excited. "I am! I decided that it's about time that I add to the literary world, and not just contribute to it through my reading!"

"So, you're trying to write a book." The demon picked up a few more pages. "This is why I haven't heard from you for over a week?"

"It's been over a week since we had brunch?" Aziraphale blinked. "Gosh, I seem to have been more into my work than I thought."

Crowley snorted, tossing the other papers aside into the mess. Then he stopped, and a big, toothy grin came to him. "Brunch! Oooh! This is why you're writing a book, isn't it? Cause I told you that it's a lot of work for good literature, after you complained about all those annoying books that 'popular' authors these days just churn out every two months! You were all 'It takes time and effort for memorable books, anyone who doesn't just want the next paycheck can do it'."

Aziraphale huffed and fixed his bowtie. "I stand by that, Crowley. And it's true, a love for writing and reading can create amazing stories. And I decided to prove my point!"

"From all this paper, and how pissed you looked when I came in, it's not going very well?"

"Well..." The angel coughed, looking away and back at the typewriter, "it is a work in progress, and not everyone can create a masterpiece on the first attempt! Besides, I think I'm onto something with my story, finally! Inspiration struck me and I've been on a roll, I just have to make sure I get everything right! I will not settle for anything less with this specific plot!"

"Uh huh. And what's it about?"

Aziraphale's cheeks pinked and he tugged at his vest. "W-well, it's a secret, I'm not ready to reveal the plot just yet!"

Crowley grabbed a random page off the pile next to him and cleared his throat. "'It would be the most magical of nights, if one excuses the pun, of course. A chance to show my skills to a real audience, on the West End of all places!' I think I can take a wild guess as to what this-"

The page was snatched from Crowley's hands and Aziraphale shoved it into his vest, hiding it from the demon. His face was red and he looked embarrassed. "It's a secret! No reading!"

Crowley chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Fine, I'll just have to wait for when it's finally released. You'll have to let me know when it's available, I'd just love to read it." He lowered his glasses to give the angel a wink before snatching up the forgotten tea cups.

"Now, how about we take a little break, Mr. Writer Man. We can do brunch again."

Aziraphale seems like the sort of writer who won't settle for anything less than perfect if he's gonna write something based on his life. And that magical night in 1941 must be correct!

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #crowley #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #john's drabbles

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xanthippe74 · 5 months

Text

The mood this year, as this header photo demonstrates, was Le Tired. Just physically and emotionally slogging along. Brain stuck on perpetual static. A pull-the-covers-over-my-head sort of year. I read a few books, watched a lot of shows, found new songs to listen to on repeat, and spent way too much time futzing around on Tumblr.

But that's not what this post is about! This is to remind myself that I did accomplish writer-ly things this year, even if it didn't feel like it sometimes. So here's my 2023 Fandom Year in Review:

Drarry

🐈 A Dreadful Invasion (of the Feline Persuasion) rated G | 6K words

Most of the time, it’s easy for Harry to forget that Draco Malfoy is his next-door neighbour—until the night Malfoy seemingly goes round the twist in his back garden. Of course Harry has to investigate. A birthday gift for @caroll-in.

🍷 Under the Table rated T, 4K words

A string of nearly-insufferable dinner parties has made Draco acquainted with Harry Potter’s completely insufferable, social-climbing boyfriend. But tonight it seems like Potter’s finally had enough, and Draco’s more than happy to watch it all play out from across the table.

WIP progress: I added about 25K to my Drarry retelling of Howl's Moving Castle. The working title is "Skybound" and it will be about 55 to 60K words when complete (by spring 2024, god help me!). Featuring: lots of banter, secret identities, adventures and misadventures in a floating house, a plucky house-elf, and (of course) a fire demon who wants to make a bargain.

9-1-1 fics, HP recs, and 2023 highlights under the cut!

9-1-1/Buddie

🌧️ It pours, man it pours rated T | 11K words

An endless rainstorm. A head-on collision on a dark canyon road. Eddie and Buck find themselves stranded with a woman in labor after they’re cut off from the rest of the 118 by a flash flood. With the fate of their team unknown, can they weather the night ahead—and mend the rift Buck caused by trying to kiss his best friend?

💣 A Few Good Pranks rated T | 4K words

The firefighters of the 118 decide to give Bobby a turn at pranking them after seeing how disappointed he was to be left out. And since two heads are better than one, why not three? Or four? If only they could figure out who's pranking and who isn't, and who the intended victim is. It's all in good fun, though—as long as everyone is too distracted to notice that Buck and Eddie keep sneaking off alone.

❤️‍🩹Let It Be Me rated T | 1.8K words

After another Buckley Family reunion-turned-disaster, Buck makes a decision about his parents. Of course the 118 has his back. Or, Bobby employs some LAFD equipment to help Buck out—and tell him something he needs to hear.

Episode codas/fix-it ficlets: 1x01 | 1x03 | 2x01 | 2x03 | 6x10 | 6x11 | 6x12 | 6x13 | 6x15

WIP progress: First chapter of a season 3/canon divergence Buddie fic. Featuring: angst with a happy ending, a secret marriage of convenience, and pandemic bed sharing.

HP Rec List

I was inspired by this post to rec twelve favorite fan works from 2023 in twelve days in December. It actually took fourteen days, but I did it!

💖 12 Favorites from 2023 💖

(after posting those twelve, of course I thought of a few more faves that I missed. I'll try to share them soon!)

2023 Highlights

I'm so very grateful for the wonderful, funny, imaginative people here who shared their creative works, the memes that made them laugh, photos of their pets, gif sets of shows I didn't know I needed to watch, and insights into the characters we love. You all got me through the year, honestly.

I had a good time doodling some Halloween treats for Inbox Trick-or-Treating. I hope it will become an annual Tumblr event! Thanks to the folks who rang my doorbell that night and the other blogs who gave out treats.

I truly treasured every kudos, comment, and rec I received this year. I was also very fortunate to receive a few special gifts:

🎙️ EllaMcSmellBella recorded a Podfic of "Spooked in Salem," my Drarry 'Round the World fic.

🎙️ Spades/bumblingbees recorded a Podfic of "Crimson Neon."

📕 @cheriecherishchen wrote a lovely rec for "Vortex" and designed gorgeous book covers for that fic and its sequel, "Riptide."

✏️ @saijordison drew this incredible piece of art for "Riptide."

And finally, if you read all the way to the end of this post, I'm grateful for YOU. 😁

Wishing everyone a very Happy New Year and an excellent 2024!

#2023 year in review #my writing #drarry #buddie

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billlydear · 1 year

Note

Hi :) Just finished reading "Basic Biology" and I loved it ! Please tell me you're doing a part 2 (and even a part 3 and perhaps a part 4 as well) : It had me crying. I wish I could just give him a hug : the most loving hug ever.

Could I request a Billy Hargrove x Reader fic in which he is brushing reader's long hair to comfort her because he can feel she is too anxious and he knows that having her hair played with calms her down sometimes ? It's a bit short so maybe you can include other elements as well. Maybe a completely different fic but with that specific scene in it ? I'm not sure I just know I'd love to read something with this scene in it. I trust you in this !

Many thanks ;)

LITTLE THINGS - BILLY HARGROVE X READER

W.C 564 - REQUEST - MASTERLIST - CREDIT TO GIF OWNER

A/N: i'm so so so glad you enjoyed basic biology! i'm not gonna lie i was really nervous to post it, so feedback makes my day! there will definitely be more parts, i've got them all planned out :D and me too, he deserves an opportunity to heal :(

It's rare that you're at Billy's for the evening. You don't typically spend time at his house, because you're just as scared of his dad as he is, but his parents are out for the night, and Max is out late with her friends.

The threat of Neil and Susan coming home early probably contributes to your anxiety, but it's not the sole cause, and Billy can tell. He reaches over from where he's flipping through a magazine, muscle cars displayed on the thin, waxy pages, and pulls gently on a strand of hair by your ear.

"Hey, you," He murmurs, using the piece of hair he's tugging on to turn your face towards him, "Something on your mind?"

"A lot," You admit, nodding as soon as he releases his hold on your hair, "I'm just.. anxious, I guess. Nervous."

"About anything specific? Or just anxious?" He bites the inside of his cheek, jawline sharpening at the movement. You shake your head, rubbing messily at one of your eyes, "Just anxious."

"Don't be," He knows it's not that simple, but it's all he can say in the moment, "You'll be fine, babe. Go get my brush."

"What?"

"Just do it," He pushes gently at your shoulder, urging you up and off of the bed in search of the bathroom, "The wide one, not the comb!"

Billy's bathroom is definitely his. It's littered with various curl products, a lot of hairspray, and a razor at the side of the sink. You find the brush easily, and you love him so you won't complain about the strands of hair that you pull out of it first.

When you get back to his room he's cross-legged on the bed, magazine shut on his nightstand. Your book is laid out waiting for you, though, bookmark in place just in case the spine snaps shut.

"Sit down," He prompts you, gesturing to the space in front of him.

You take your seat trying not to get your hopes up. Logically, why else would he ask for his hairbrush and then sit you in front of him? But the offer seems too good to be true, so you feign cluelessness.

"Just relax," His voice is calming and smooth, a sound that loosens the knot of anxiety in your chest, "Read your book, and try not to think about it."

The first scrape of the brush through your hair is intoxicating. It sends a shiver down your spine that he chases, the prongs of the brush rubbing against your t-shirt and folding it strangely against your skin. He lets out a low chuckle at your response, and redirects the brush to your scalp.

"Why are you doing this?" You wonder, eyes drifting over the words on the pages of your book but not actually taking them in.

"Because I always see you play with your hair when you're nervous," He hums, soft and sweet by your ear, "I figured it made you feel better, or something."

"It does," You breathe, “It’s just soothing, I guess.”

“Good,” He presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, moving the brush through the strands of hair there right after, “Don’t stress, baby, you’ll get through it.”

And as Billy’s fingers comb through your hair alongside the brush, meticulously covering every inch of your scalp in ticklish, tingly lines, you’re confident that you will.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove hurt/comfort #billy hargrove x reader fanfiction #billy hargrove drabble #billy hargrove blurb

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fatuismooches · 1 year

Note

Hello! Do you remember that scene where Dottore erases all of the segments in the archon quest? I wonder how would reader react to it, especially in the case of fragile! reader who always has a segment with them. One moment he is serving them tea and the next moment, he's kneeling on the ground, in pain and reader panics, asking him what's wrong. But before they know it, he's gone :( I imagine reader may be a bit traumatised by that. Maybe they thought Dottore died for good. Even if they think it's just the segment that died, I feel like fragile! reader has some abandonment issues because they are forced to be dependent on Dottore. If they watch Dottore died, even if it's just a segment, it strikes fear that one day Dottore may die unknowingly and they would be all alone in the Fatui, no one caring for them.

NOOOOOOOO PLEASE- I had to mentally recover after reading this. I never bring up the deletion of his clones in my fics cuz it makes me so sad and I don't think I can physically write dottore hcs without mentioning them at least once lol🥺

The way you described it was so good and sad!!😭😭 Such a good scenario!! I imagine fragile! reader talking to the segment, happy that they get to start their day with him and then all of a sudden the clone stops responding. You call his name (the unique one that you made for that specific segment, because you really can't stand calling them by numbers) but there's still no answer. You try to pull him towards you, but it's more like he ends up tumbling onto you, his strength diminishing by the second. Your heart is going so fast you're sure that it couldn't possibly be good for your health. He's saying something under his breath but you can't really hear it besides the mention of "Omega" and "ridiculous" and "regret this." You cup his cheek, and try to make the segment look at you, and he does, though the blatant fear written all over his face causes your throat to dry up. His grip on your thighs tightens as he opens his mouth to say something and then-

He's gone, as if he never existed at all. And you are at a loss for words. You start to tremble, and it's not from the cold this time. You muster your strength to leave the room, and when you get to the lab it's dead silent. No one in sight. No clones busily sprinting around to get things done. You collapse to the floor and clutch your chest, completely in shambles. Was he... gone? No, Zandik could never fall. Your lover was the Second Fatui Harbinger, with strength that rivaled the Archons, there's no way, it was simply not possible for him to lose. Zandik would never leave you, you tried to convince yourself. It wasn't true, it wasn't true, it wasn't- Your frail body could not keep up with what your mind was suggesting, and you blacked out.

Fragile! reader would definitely be messed up after that... I've written some angst before about them feeling poorly about themselves due to their condition. They feel as though they're a burden sometimes since they rely on Dottore for many things. And this incident just makes them feel a lot worse since what would they do if Zandik was defeated? The Fatui wouldn't take kindly to losers. Forget about your condition, your heart would surely die of grief and loss. Fragile! reader would also probably strongly dislike the Traveler and Nahida from now. I feel as though they would be much more lonely now because they don't have anyone to really talk to now. I also think fragile! reader would be kinda scared of Omegattore now😭 They're not sure how to trust him after he deleted the segments so easily, you were really attached to them </3

I'm going to my corner and crying now ;)

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #fragile reader <3 #in my own little world i know that all of them are alive and well...#also this is random but i hc dot as a cat person #i wrote this in pieces cuz i couldnt stop thinking abt how sad and deep this was😭#i feel like everything under the fragile reader tag is a weapon to make ppl sad atp lmao

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rooster-the-love-of-my-life · 1 year

Note

Heya! I was wondering if I could request a Bradley Bradshaw x Reader fic that’s enemies to lovers, slow burn? Like with tons of angst and maybe life and death situation lol? Maybe they became enemies in the academy or swim thing over a miscommunication or just their personalities clashed at the time or maybe reader is related to maverick or ice? Sorry that’s so specific lol.

Omg, thank you. I've been trying to write for a long time but didn't have any ideas at all. So thank you and happy reading.

BTW, I'm still alive.

I lothe you...

From a very young age, Bradley and Y/N had been the bane of each others existence. If Bradley did something and qas praised for it, Y/N had to do it better than him. If Y/N excelled at something, Bradley had to do the same. That is how they both got in to the academy, and then to top gun.

For most of their lives they had been competing with each other, until Maverick pulled Bradley's papers, putting Y/N a step ahead from him. Even though she felt bad for him, and was angry with her father for a long time, she couldn't help but feel this sense of victory.

But it was short lived when he managed to get into the academy and then into Top Gun at the same time as her. Even there they were competitive, always doing the most dangerous tasks, trying to prove that they are better. Thus very completion led to Y/N being the top of the class and Rooster a close second.

After the year at Top Gun they had both gone their separate ways, and never met, never talked, until now. The crowded room of the hard deck felt like home, the smell of beer and the sea, with drunk pilots was bring all the good memories back.

"It's good to see you Birdie." Phoenix said, slinging her arm over Y/N's shoulder.

"It's good to see you too Phoenix. It's been too long." Y/N replied, taking a sip from her beer.

The both of them got into a comfortable conversation, talking about their lives, the missions they went on. A few moments later Y/N's eyes moved over to the door to see a flick of pilots bursting through the door.

With them was him. Bradley, he was here and he was going to be part of the mission. Before Y/N could duck out, hide or go away, Hangman had already called out to Rooster.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't baby goose." He said.

"Hangman," Replied Rooster. "You look good."

"I am good." Hangman replied with a smirk. Bradley just nodded.

"You didn't tell me you were coming." Phoenix said pulling him into a hug.

"Right sorry about that." Rooster said, pulling away. "Was a little busy."

Till now, Rooster had spotted Y/N.

"Mitchell." He said acknowledging her presence.

"Bradshaw." She replied, sipping her beer.

"So what do think this mission is?" Coyote questioned.

"Whatever it is, it's gotta be dangerous." Fanboy replied.

"They've got the best of the best here, who the hell were they gonna get to teach us?" Said Phoenix.

"Not everyone's the best." Y/N murmured into the drink, but was heard by everyone.

"What's that supposed to mean Mitchell?" Rooster said, standing up straight.

"Oh I think you know what it means." She said as a matter of fact.

"Really? I don't think I'm the one who slashed the tires of my bicycle just cause I came at second place." He said, bringing up the past.

"At least I didn't go home crying to mommy when I lost." She replied, making the squad laugh.

"Wait you did that," Hangman said, chuckling.

"Shut up." Rooster said, turning back to Y/N, enough had a gery satisfied look on her face.

Even after years of not seeing him she knew exactly how to push his buttons.

Rooster was just about to reply before Phoenix stepped in. "Okay kids, you can do this later. Right now, let's just get shit faced."

Both of them went away from each other, Y/N to the bar and Rooster to the piano. Soon enough a crowd gathered around him as he started playing Great Balls of Fire.

Y/N looked at him from afar, thinking of how he'd always been the musically gifted one out of the two of them. She could feel that this mission was going to be different from the rest, yet the danger of not knowing didn't stop her from being excited.

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

The next day, everyone had gathered on the deck waiting for their briefing. Phoenix sat with Bob, Hangman up front, Rooster right behind him, Payback and Fanboy behind him, Y/N beside the two of them and Coyote, up front next to Hangman.

"Morning. Welcome to you special training detachment. This detachment will be rough. Half of you will be chosen for it. One of you will be named mission leader. And the other half will go back to reserves. Your instructor is one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. His exploits are legendary. What he has to teach you may very well mean the difference between life and death. Captain Pete Mitchell. Callsign: Maverick."

Admiral Bates spoke, before stepping back as everyone sat down, looking back to see Captin Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell walking up to the podium.

Rooster glanced between Y/N and Mavrick, knowing that this wasn't going to he the easiest mission ever. Hangman flinched as well upon seeing him. By now Mavrick was holding up the F18 manual. "The F18's. I'm sure every one of you knows this book cover to cover." He spoke, looking throughout the crowd of pilots before him.

Variations of 'damn straight' and 'hell yeah' were given from some of the guys. "Yeah, well so does your enemy." Maverick spoke, throwing the manual down and into the trashcan next to his podium. "What your enemy doesn't know is your limits. And I plan to test them, push them, and expand them. Let's get started." He spoke, giving a cocky smile and nodded off to the where the F18's are.

Dogfighting is a skill all pilots must have. It's practically essential. Everyone should have it. And that is what they did today. First Phoenix and Bob went and barely made it out. Then Payback and Fanboy came back destroyed. Pete came back in and selected his next paring.

"Give me Birdie." He said. All eyes were on her now, and her eyes were on her dad's. She knew she was a good flyer, but she knew she would have to get a bloddy good wingman to beat him. Yale got up with her, as her wingman, but was quickly told to sit down by Mavrick.

"Yale, you're Hangman's wingman. Birdie , you get Rooster." And with that the captin was out. It was as if he'd dropped a bomb. Everyone got quite and very still. Even Hangman was tensed. Showing no emotion Y/N walked to her F-18, followed by Rooster.

"Don't screw this up for me Bradshaw." Birdie shouted over the loud noise of the F-18s.

"It should be the other way Mitchell."

With that they were both in the air. No words were spoken for quite some time, till Y/N asked "Where is he?"

Looking for him. Almost immediately Rooster said "Under you." And out came the oldest captin of the navy. He got out in front of Birdie, with her hot on his tail. Mavrick knew she would soon get tone on him, and he couldn't let that happen. They kept going for a few minutes till Mavrick came to a sudden stop, the only way to beat her, making Y/N fly forward, getting tone on her.

"That's a kill." He said as Birdie cursed under her breath. "Where's you wingman?"

"Right here." Rooster said, flying behind Mavrick not as quickly as he used to.

"You might wanna go a little faster if you don't wanna die." Commented Y/N, to which Rooster said noting. Soon enough, Rooster was dead as well.

"That's a kill as well. You know the whole point of having a wingman is for him to have your back. I expected more. From the both of you." Said Mavrick, when they landed. "Meet Hondo for your pushups."

They high landed their planes and went to Hondo for their pushups.

"You know." Y/N started with a little strain in her voice. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you stupidity."

"Right, as if you're perfect." Rooster scoffed, continuing with his pushups.

"I wasn't the one who abandoned you."

"Abandoned?!"

"Yes, abandoned. You're supposed to be my wingman, you're supposed to look out from me not fantasies about sex up there." Y/N said.

"Oh fuck you Mitchell." Rooster said, looking over to Y/N.

"I'm flattered, really, but no thanks." Her reply even got Hondo to Crack a little smile, but it was gone quickly when he saw Maverick approaching.

"Quit yapping and finish your pushups." He said as Maverick crossed them, looking down to see the two sweaty pilots shooting daggers at each other.

"Still the same." He murmered under his breath, shaking his head with a little smile on his face.

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

The next week had been the same. Maverick would intentionally put Bradley and Y/N together, they would go up, something would go wrong and they would end up doing 200 pushups everyday.

One evening, when they had just finished doing their pushups, Y/N approached Bradley near the locker rooms.

"Hey." She said. "What's your problem?"

"What do you mean?" He said, pretending as if he didn't know excatly what she meant.

"You know what I mean." She said.

"I don't want to have this conversation right now." He sighed, moving towards the door of the mens room, but Y/N came in between them.

"I don't care if you want to have this conversation or not. We will have this conversation right now." She said with her hands on her hips. "I have absolutely no regards for whatever it is you going through right now Bradshaw, all I care about is that I go on this mission. So whatever the problem is with you, whatever problem you have with my father, work through it. Or so help me good I will make your life a living hell."

After a moments silence, Bradley said in a hushed voice, "It's you."

"What?''

"It's you, you're my problem. ever since you came back into my life everything I have been doing is goin wrong, I can't fly straight, I can't do my tasks straight, I can't think straight, and its all because of you."

"Because of me?" She said, wit a scoff.

"Yes you." He said with his voice a little raised. "You're the bane of my existence."

Y/N gasped and hit him in shoulder saying "I loathe you."

He did the same, also saying "I loathe you."

"I loathed you first." Y/N said getting dangerously close to Bradley's face.

"Oh yeah?" He said.

"Yeah." She replied, but before she had the time to say anything else, Bradley grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her lips into his. A few seconds later, Y/N replicated the kiss and deepened it, putting her arms on his shoulders. But the kiss didn't last long.

"I shouldn't have done that." Bradley said, pulling away and taking a step back.

"Yeah you shouldn't have." Murmured Y/N, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

"I should go." Bradley said, walking away quickly, leaving Y/N standing in the hallway, wondering why they had just done that.

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

The next day, they both refused to even look at each other. No snide remarks were made abut the other, they didn't say a word to each other. That was also the day when they had decided to stay in.

"Hey are you okay?" Whispered Bob standing in front of Y/N.

"Yeah, why?" Y/N whispered back.

"Nothing." Bob replied. "You're just acting a little different today."

"Different how?"

"Different like you haven't slit Rooster's throat till now." Phoenix jumped into the conversation.

"You know we don't always have to be at each other's throat." Y/N replied, trying to hid whatever feeling she was having at the moment, glancing at Rooster.

On hearing this reply, Bob put his hand on Y/N forehead, as Phoenix said, "Are you sick?"

"No, I'm not sick." Y/N replied, swatting Bob's hand away. "I'm fine, okay. Rooster and I are fine. Just because we aren't on the verge of killing each other doesn't mean that I've stopped hating him, maybe it just means he hasn't done anything stupid today." Y/N said, walking away.

"But you told me even his breathing is stupid." Bob said quietly as Phoenix patted him on his back.

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

The same night, after the squad had returned from The Hard Deck, Bob decided to get to the bottom of things. He was determined to know what was going on, what was wrong.

"Hey Rooster." He said when it was just him and the boys in the his room. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." Rooster replied, a little tipsy. "I'm on top of the world."

"No, no. Is everything alright with you and Y/N??" Bob specified.

"Yeah, I hate her, she hates me, we've never been better." Rooster replied.

"The why were you staring at her the whole night." Bob pointed out.

"Its nothing Bob." Sighed Bradley.

"Oh come on Rooster, you can tell me anything."

"I don't know what to tell you Bob." Rooster started, gaining the attention of all the boys. "Ever since we've been kids, she's been getting on my nerves. We've been constantly fighting, about whose better at maths or about who can read more books and now about whose the better pilot. And then we went our serrate ways, but the we met again. And now I have to deal with her nd her stupid smile, her stupid hair, her stupid laugh, the stupid way she bits her lips when she's concentrating. I can't sleep, I cant eat, maybe I'm coming down with something."

"Oh, I know what you've got buddy. The 'L' word." Bob said.

"Yeah," Hangman jumped in. "Leprosy."

"No Jake, it's four letters. Starts with L ends with E."

"Yeah." He said. "Lice."

"No, Rooster, my friend, is in love." Bon corrected.

"Oh yeah, love." All the boys started repeating the word again and again.

"You mean with Y/N?" Rooster said. "No."

"Oh she has gotten under your skin." Coyote said in a sing song voice.

"Come on." Fanboy said.

"Admit it." Payback added.

"No, no you guys are dead wrong." Rooster said getting up. "I'm going home."

"Rooster and Birdie sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G." All the boys started to chant as Jake shouted, "You're in love pussycat."

"Ha, ha. Real mature guys.

Just as he was about to leave, Bob called from behind, "Het Rooster, I never said in love with Y/N."

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

That night while laying in bed Rooster's mind kept taking him back to all the instances in which he had claimed to hate Y/N. All the times he had said or done something so vile, he'd never thought Y/N could have toped it, yet she always did.

Maybe this was just his way of coping with things, coping with not being able to be with her. He knew that it was wrong of him to disrespect he wishes of never dating a pilot in her life, but he just couldn't help but want something with Y/N.

Having enough of tossing and turning in his bed, Rooster decided to go out for a walk on the beach. The beach at night always seemed to clam him down. Walking on the beach he expected to find loads of lovers sniggling, drunk guys laying there, but what he never expected to find was Y/N.

She was sitting near the waves, looking at the distant sea. Rooster contemplated going to her or not, he went with the former.

"Hey there stranger." He said sitting down next to her.

"Hi." She replied with a sigh. "What're you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Rooster replied.

"Well I asked first." She said.

"Fine." He replied. "I couldn't sleep."

"The thoughts of Mrs. Jackson still bothering you?"

"That was the fifth grad." Bradley said raising his voice a little. "Could you please let that go?"

"I will never." She replied, leaning a little towards him, laughing. "Seriously, were you thinking of her once again?"

"No, I wasn't."

"Oh really?"

"Yes really."

"Lying doesn't suit you sweetheart."

"I was thinking about you." Bradley told her, making he shut up at once.

"I was thinking about you, your stupid laugh, and your awful smile, and how I can't seen to get you off of my mind."

"You don't really mean that." Y/N whispered.

"I do Y/N. I really do." He said, looking at her with a loving expression.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't you dare look at me like that, not after every vile thing we've done to each other."

"I can't help it Y/N, I can't. Ever since I saw you again at the hard deck, I can't get you off of my mind. Morning, noon and night I think about you. I love you Y/N."

"No, don't do this." Y/N said looking away.

"Just give me a cha-"

"Brad, I already told you, I can't be with pilots. You are all the same, you fall in love, you give us false promises and then you leave." Y/N said.

"I'm not like the other pilots you've dated."

"How can I trust you?" She said. "After everything."

"I guess you can't." Rooster said, getting up and walking away.

As Y/N watched him leave, her mind travelled to all the time she swore she hated him, and now all her mind could come up with was that she loves him too. She loves his stupid hair, and his stupid mustache, his laugh and the way he plays piano. She loves everything about him.

Getting up, she ran after him to try and catch up to him, and she did.

"Bradshaw." She called out, but he didn't look back. "Bradshaw, Bradley."

He finally stopped and looked back at her. She walked up to him and whispered, "I thought I got rid you."

This time it was her who pulled him in for a kiss. He reacted quickly, grabbing her face and caressing it. They both broke away to get some air when Y/N said,

"If you muck me about Brad."

"I swear, I won't." Rooster said, resting his forehead on hers.

"Lead me on, let me down or go behind my back, I'll murder you."

"I won't, I promise." Rooster said cracking a smile.

"You swear?" She said.

"Yeah, I swear."

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

A/N: There it is folks. I haven't written in a while and it feels good writing again. And if yiu notice, I've put in a few of my favorite rom coms as well. Special shoutout to @imimsy for requesting this. I tried my best, hope you liked it. Taglist open.

Taglist:

@4margaritasalex @futurecorps3 @thisisgracetrying @clairejpg @fangirlinc @thespeeder @ashewontcare @jonginvlog @igotmajordaddyissues @herladyshipxx @m3laniehearts @exo-wayv @mayafatimakhan @starkleila @itscheybaby @spookycupcakepirate @dcamelia @americaarse @paulina1998

@lgg5989 @datingbtr @thatchickwiththecamera @luckyladycreator2 @kanevill @dempy @saramaple @hockeyboysarehot @redhoodedtoad @nobody7102 @icemanslove @blake-tc-fan @alexwinchester23 @unstablecaffeinatedmind @mslizziesblog @teti-menchon0604

#rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley x reader #top gun movie #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #hangman #robert bob floyd #phoenix top gun #miles teller #top gun #monica barbaro #tom cruise #glen powell #rooster top gun

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