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dawnoftime22 · 2 months

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thief.

| N.R

Warnings: None

Summary: When you go about making your meal for breakfast, it had mysteriously disappeared, leading to an obvious suspect of a redhead.

Word Count: 784

Category: fluff<3

A/N: I've missed writing fluff very very much and this was for @ncsdlr, inspired by their post of nat so here's a cute short little fic about it :]

| Started on 06/03/2024, 5:53 AM |

| Finished on 06/03/2024, 8:58 AM |

Main Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

“What's yours is mine, is it not?"

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You stood in the kitchen, making a delicious sandwich for breakfast and maybe even to enjoy later after training if you don't finish.

At the moment, you were alone up until Thor walks in, going off to the pantry cabinet, assumingly looking for a poptart or cereal for his morning breakfast.

You turn from your plate of sandwich, walking to the fridge and opening it to grab some water. But when you close it and go back to take a bite of your food, it had disappeared, only a few crumbs of the bread and the sauce you put a trace of evidence of your sandwich that once existed right there.

"What the...Where did my sandwich go?" Your voice was full of confusion and shock as you blink, staring at it. Then, you look around, and notice Thor first, standing in the kitchen with you.

"Thor," you say, your expression deadpanned, and he pops his head out from behind the cabinet door, his mouth open in the way you called his name. He hadn't done anything, and even just by the tone of your voice, he knew you were accusing him of something.

Then he notices your empty plate that had a delicious looking sandwich he once saw when he walked in. You couldn't have finished it in seconds. That's when he figured out why you looked a little ticked.

"I did no such thing! I have been standing right here, and my hands are empty." He gestured with his hands, his face in utter disbelief. Your eyebrows furrow further in thought.

"Who is it then?" You raised your hands, your eyes still focused on him. He grabs a box of pop tarts out from the cabinet, opening it to slide a packet out. He looks up at you before going to the microwave, but he stops in his tracks.

"Just make...another one." He pauses in between his words as he notices a redhead passing by, holding an oddly similar sandwich to yours, chewing carelessly. He was too afraid to point it out, knowing the assassin might just kill him if he does.

But you see his eyes following something behind you rather than looking directly at you, so you slowly turn to look at who was there.

A small gasp escapes you. Natasha, stood right beside your empty plate, having come from nowhere. She was staring right at you, holding the exact sandwich you had just made minutes ago, that had disappeared.

"Thief," you exclaim, walking closer to the kitchen island where she's at and putting your hand on it, holding yourself against it. She swallows before speaking up.

"It's not stealing if you left it there," she shrugs, the sandwich moving along with her hand, and you had to process her words for a moment until you let out a small laugh.

"That's the same thing." You tilt your head slightly as you said it, her sentence making no sense. If it was anyone else, you might have already chased them around the room already to retrieve your sandwich.

"Why didn't you just make one yourself?" Thor had left the kitchen by now, enjoying his pop tart by himself while you and Nat continued your playful conversation.

"It's not the same," she says, and at that, you shake your head. Her face was calm, but her eyes held a hint of teasing.

"Well, then, you could have just asked," you mumble. Nat stays quiet, studying your face. She could have just asked, but she also loved poking at you for fun.

"Now I need to make another one." You complained as you pick up your plate, about to go grab the loaf of bread once again while your stomach complained at the late breakfast.

"You can have it back." She holds out the sandwich to you, even though it was clear she had already eaten more than you thought she had.

"No, you've already had a bite of it, keep it." Or more so, multiple bites. You wave your free hand that wasn't holding the plate dismissively, not minding since it was well...Nat, but you were a tinge upset.

She sees the adorable pout your face held, and a small smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

"I'll make one for you, how's that?" Nat stands up from the barstool standing tall for the kitchen island, moving to the counters to grab the ingredients. When she turns her head to look over her shoulder, she takes your smile as an acceptance.

Later on, the two of you enjoyed your sandwiches that you had, one being 'accidentally' made for the other, and one being especially made for the other.

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

taglist <3 - join here! :]

@ludasgf @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @justanotherteenpoet @fxckmiup @dmenby3100 @animealways @natashasilverfox @wandsmxmff @tia-thesimp @marvelwomen-simp

#🥀 dawn’s collection #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff imagines

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strawbeerossi · 17 days

Text

August || Chapter Five

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid, fem!reader x Emily Prentiss

Description: After a conversation with Emily, Spencer drowns in a sea of regret and guilt. That’s when JJ gives him a harsh reality check.

Content/Warnings: Spencer/JJ centric chapter, friendships are threatened, drama, emissions of guilt, regret, Spencer thinks of you and Emily to a deep degree, a break up ensues, one use of Y/N.

WC: 2.1K

Y'all know the drill. 450 notes for next part!

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The sound of the ceramic shattering on the ground had you looking at the floor first, the overly sugary coffee surely going to make the floor sticky and give everyone’s shoes that annoying sound of them getting stuck to the ground.

“That’s going to be a pain to clean up.” Was all Emily could say, unphased by his reaction. Truth be told, he had no reason to react the way he did. He had made his bed the moment he got with JJ, losing every chance that he had with you. “Pick up the pieces, don’t need anyone getting hurt.” She added.

“So this is what you two do whenever you're supposed to be working? Not very professional.” Spencer huffed, kneeling down to pick up the remains of the navy blue coffee cup, his head shaking.

“Everyone is entitled to a lunch break for an hour every workday. What anyone else does outside of this office is absolutely none of your business.” The unit chief countered back while she was heading over to the bullpen doors. “When you’re finished, come to my office. We need to talk.”

You were looking between Spencer and Emily, hands pushed into your pockets while the both of them had their little back and forth. “Can we all just calm it down? There’s no need for any more drama than this team already has.” The voice of reason. How fitting.

“I am calm. I just find it shocking that you’re kissing our boss in the elevator.” He commented, the shards rested in the palm of his hand as he pushed himself to stand up straight.

“You have no right to be mad and you know that.” You countered, deciding against furthering the argument as you approached the doors to the bullpen. How dare he act angry at you after what he did. He had no logical reasoning to act like a child over your decisions.

You knew that this was him lashing out, showing that deep down, he really is bothered and has noticed what he lost out on. That could’ve been you and him kissing in the elevator instead of you and Emily, the both of you could be going out to lunch together… He knew where he went wrong and this was going to haunt him.

Spencer was always dramatic in that way, needing to see just what he lost before it was hitting him like a freight train. It was something he did with JJ, then he got with her and things haven’t exactly been smooth sailing in the department of their relationship.

He felt immense guilt, especially whenever JJ and Will had to make plans for the boys to visit with her. She should’ve been home with her children, not with him. Although it was seemingly too late, he highly doubted Will would take JJ back.

He made it known on several occasions that she made her bed and she had to lie in it, to suffer from the loss of a loving marriage. In a way, it made Spencer feel dirty. What would Henry think of his beloved uncle when he got older? What would Michael think? In their story, as well as yours, Spencer was the bad guy.

Those thoughts were in his mind all day after that. Even whenever being scolded by Emily, he just wasn’t present in the conversation. All he could think about was how happy you seemed with her, the way you looked at her. It made him feel nauseous.

He knew Emily would take care of you at the end of the day but all he could do is think about what he lost. Emily was the lucky one, the one who didn’t break your heart into a million pieces. She got to hold you, to kiss you, to bask in your love and presence.

His mind wandered farther, the idea of you two being intimate together. The idea made jealousy tug at his heart. She would be the one to worship you, to bring a rush of euphoria over you so strong that you wouldn’t dare think about another person in the same manner.

It made him irrationally angry, upset at Emily because she was lucky enough to step in to the relationship that should’ve been shared between you and him.

“Are you even listening?” Emily’s voice made Spencer look over at her, his eyes searching her features. She was angry at him, the comments he made earlier being the driving force behind it. He understood why, however this talk was unnecessary.

“Yes. I’m listening. I just think this is all a waste of my time and yours. I’m sorry for making the comments I made but you have to admit, you are our boss at the end of the day. If you can’t handle what I have to say, imagine hearing what other people will say.” He stated.

“I can guarantee you that nobody would care as much as you do. There will have to be a tedious paperwork process done for this to continue, but I don’t mind it.” It was a wonder how Emily kept her composure despite Spencer’s shitty attitude. “I am just asking you to stop with the comments and quite honestly, you need to grow up. The Spencer that I know would be happy for his coworkers who are also his friends. He wouldn’t be throwing a hissy fit over jealousy.”

“Look. I am happy for you, for her. I’m not jealous either.” Debatable. He didn’t care to admit things like that. “I just don’t like how I didn't know. She used to tell me everything!”

“And then you ruined that for yourself. You know that I love you but you’re acting foolish. I don’t want to constantly have battles between us, alright? Just take this time to reflect and realize what you did wrong and then let all of that built up anger go. Now, go and wash your face. Get your shit together.”

That was the end of the conversation, the male slowly pushing himself to stand before making a slow retreat from the office. Washing his face was good, would clear his head, settle his nerves.. So, he made a b-line straight for the men’s washroom. Although unbeknownst to him, JJ was hurrying out of the bullpen right behind him.

“What happened in there?” She made her presence known as she grabbed Spencer’s arm, startling him in the process. “What are you trying to pull now?”

“Trying to pull? Are you serious? Emily wanted to have a private discussion with me. I suggest you mind your own business, Jennifer.” He spat, the built up aggression causing him to breathe heavier thn usual, his face red. He needed to get to the bathroom now.

“Woah, hold on. You think you are allowed to get rude with me because you don’t know how to leave things alone? Spencer, don’t be ridiculous.” She began although the male’s hands were raised in self defense as he looked in her direction. He had no time for this.

“I know how to leave things alone. I’ve proved that enough these past few weeks. You just don’t like that all the attention isn’t on you for once. Nobody really cares what you have to say in regards to this situation. I don’t care. You don’t like the way I carry myself and that is your problem. I can’t change myself just to make you approve.”

“Are you crazy? I’m just telling you to leave them alone.”

“Yeah, well how about you leave me alone?” He spat, now turning on his heel to get to the bathroom. He knew taking out his anger on JJ wasn’t fair but she just always poked and prodded at him. He hated that.

As he made it to the bathroom, he was staring at his reflection, the man in the mirror being someone who he could barely recognize. The old Spencer would’ve never taken things this far. He would’ve been too afraid of backlash, would’ve pulled away entirely once he saw the hectic nature of what his decisions could unleash..

With the sink water steadily running, he was leaning down to splash some cold water on his face. He just needed to calm down, to think through this situation and what his options were. His brain was amazing with conjuring up ideas and theories, although it was like as of late, he was lacking.

“Get your shit together.” Spencer spoke to himself, his eyes closing to avoid looking at himself, at who he became over the years; a man who broke someone’s heart, broke a family, and broke a team dynamic. Hell, he might’ve even broken himself in the process.

The sound of flowing water coupled with his breathing was all he could hear, blocking out the rest of the world as he was bringing himself back down to a more calm and collected state. His decisions have never haunted him like these past few ones have.

Once calm, his hand was turning off the water, his eyes watching a steady pour slow down to nothing. Alright. He was alright.

Upon exiting the bathroom, JJ was still there, arms crossed as she was waiting patiently for him to come out. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” She stated, looking up at the man in front of her.

“I don’t want your help. I just- I feel like this isn’t working. I don’t like this relationship or whatever we have anymore. I can’t keep up with it, I just can’t.” He blurted out, heart beating like a drum in his chest, threatening to burst out of his chest cavity.

A tense silence came over them as JJ pursed her lips together. “After I left my husband to try and make this work?” She asked, not giving the man time to answer as she took in a breath. “Fine. Maybe you’re right. You can’t do this anymore. Because now you’ve realized the weight of your decisions. I always wanted you to reflect and realize what you did wrong, to take accountability. I just didn’t expect it to lead to this.”

“I just can’t do it. I can’t look at Henry or Michael without feeling immense guilt. I broke up the dynamic they were used to, at least contributed to it. We’ve both lost important things to us. The only difference is, you’re lucky enough to have your children. You could salvage a cordial relationship with Will. I’ve lost everything.”

“You’re unbelievable!” The blonde stared at the taller male in disbelief. “You are throwing a pity party for yourself because suddenly you feel the need to be jealous over what Emily has? After this whole experience, I can tell you that Y/N is much better off with her than she is with you.”

The ugly truth that hit Spencer harder than a train derailed from the tracks.

“I have to agree that this needs to end. You also need to leave those two alone. If anything, take my advice on that. Let them live. Let them be happy.” She frowned while bringing her hands up to tiredly rub at her face. “She doesn’t love you and you need to realize that.”

Those words stuck with Spencer, even whenever he made it to his apartment later that night. He was pacing around his living room, arms over his chest, as he really had time to think about everything. The silence never did him any favors, but he couldn’t even ignore his thoughts with a book like he usually could. He tried.

Every conclusion that he conjured up was the same; he needed to leave you alone. Not that easy, though. You knew him better than the others did. You two talked and shared a lot in the time frame of knowing each other.

He got a horrible idea, one that he knew he shouldn’t have had, but it was an idea.

With his hand digging into his pocket, he was eventually retrieving his phone, getting into it before getting to his contact list.

There wasn’t much scrolling that had to be done, eventually finding a familiar name. Your name. He was silently outweighing his options. You could answer, you could block him, or you could flat out ignore him.

So, throwing caution to the wind, he hit call, slowly sitting in the middle of the floor as he patiently waited for an answer.

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cocobirdi · 5 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 | CLAY

request. @BlueSpicaStar on wattpad

word count. 1.5k.

warnings. like three curse words. (not proofread)

info. pre-trolls trilogy.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"BroZone! BroZone! BroZone!"

You didn't even know why you were here, to be quite frank.

How, out of all the people your friend knew, did she decide you'd be the best pick to attend the silly concert with her? When, in your years of friendship, have you expressed even the slightest interest in BroZone? And why, out of all your options, did you agree to go?

You aren't a fan. You never were a fan; you could really care less about the band until she brought them up and then invited you to attend with her.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

"How do you not know BroZone? They are literally dominating the music industry as we breathe. There's merchandise and posters of them being sold everywhere—hello, even the grocery store sells merch! Way too expensive compared to other shops... and the material does not feel very great," she ranted, the energetic girl tapping at her cheek.

"But anyway, how do you not know them? Have you been living under a rock?"

Engrossed in the scrapbook under you, retelling the events of your day in the form of glitter and silly fuzzy drawings. You had barely paid any mind to her or her rambling, continuing to draw, cut, and paste away.

The truth is, you had actually heard of the band—hard not to when it's plastered everywhere—but due to your negligence in the conversation, you had been throwing mindless uh-huh's and uh-uh's without a second thought, giving misleading responses.

She called your name with a drawl, flicking your forehead.

"Ow," you mumbled, looking up at her with a pout at the attack. "What'd you do that for?"

This time your name was said in frustration, receiving a smack on your head instead, "I've been talking to you and you weren't listening. I am wasting precious vocals here that I could be instead saving for the concert!"

"What concert—ow!"

"BroZone." She deadpanned.

"Oh, I know BroZone." You looked back down at the scrapbook, glueing and pasting a little mini version of your friend. "Not a fan."

The biggest gasp ever came from the other girl, her hands dramatically coming up and covering her mouth in utter disbelief. With the way she was acting and the hurt on her face, anyone would've assumed that she'd been told someone was dead, and to her, you might as well be.

"Not a fan? How are you not a fan?"

Her eyes widened, and her hands came down to slam shut the book, keen on getting your undivided attention to focus on this very important issue.

"I don't know. Their music is kind of... bland. They're just like any other boyband out there."

"Bland? They are paving the way for music, unlike any band before." she grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together. "Do you know what the family harmony is?"

"Duh. What, have they been able to achieve it? Because if so, then maybe they are as good as you're telling me."

"Not... yet." she hissed. "But soon!"

"For sure."

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Finally managing to escape the clutches of your friend, who held on to you for dear life, claiming that the concert was just about to start—which is exactly why you wanted to flee—using the excuse of having to use the bathroom. The screaming would no doubt burst your eardrums and the little sanity you had left.

You mindlessly wandered the mainly empty halls, unsure of where exactly the bathroom was.

The only trolls you found were some security and a few that rushed past you in a hurry, presumably late, compared to everyone else, to the show.

You were tempted to ask where the bathrooms were, but the intimidation of the dull and scary workers overcame that.

You glanced at the exit, a little voice inside your voice irking you to leave, escape it all. Would your friend really miss your absence that much? They'd probably be too enamored and lost in the band to notice.

A step was taken, but not for the exit, with your eyes catching the familiar sign of the restroom. Your lips curled up slightly at the sanctuary, rushing towards it.

It was a family restroom, and it probably wasn't going to be occupied by any families anytime soon; you took advantage of it's vacancy.

Or at least, you assumed it was vacant.

Your hand reached for the handle, gripping, only for it to be pulled without any force, the door almost hitting you right in the face if it weren't for fast reflexes.

"Oh sh*t, I'm so sorry. I didn't think anyone would be out here right now." The other troll spoke fast and anxiously, a hand cupping his face, like he was trying to hide from you.

You were spooked a bit by the sudden scare, unaware of the occupancy, but your racing heart slowly calmed down to its regular beat, offering a smile to calm the other's nerves.

"It's okay, me neither."

A turquoise troll with a yellow puffer jacket and hair, white shorts, and wristbands appeared, getting a good look at him. He didn't just sound nervous; he also looked nervous.

He glanced from the floor to you, "I mean, uh."

His entire person changed in a second; an attempt to look more confident than he actually is was made, a smug smile on his lips as he snapped his fingers, winking, "Just wanted to get away real quick."

Licking your lips, you raised a brow in confusion at the change of attitude and nodded slowly.

"That's nice..."

How do you kindly tell him to get the fuck out of your way so you can get into the bathroom?

His face dropped somewhat at your lack of reaction. A mixture of confusion, relief, and intrigue crossed his features.

"You don't know me?" He blurted, "You're strangely calm."

"No. I'm sorry, have we met before?"

He smirked, shaking his head softly, his tense shoulders dropping as he sighed, "No."

He leaned against the restroom doorframe, eyeing you with interest. "Most trolls would be losing their minds right about now. I'm Clay, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Clay." You maintained a calm demeanor despite the strange encounter.

He paused, studying your face as if searching for something. "You're not here for the concert, are you? You seem a bit... out of place."

Your eyes shifted, avoiding a direct answer. "Let's just say I'm not the biggest BroZone fan."

His expression shifted, a playful look in his eyes. "Oh, not a fan of the greatest band in the world, are you?"

You chuckled and shook your head.

"I think that's an exaggeration."

Clay grinned, leaning in a bit closer. "They're not just a band; they're a family. They're all about family harmony. Once you get it, you'll understand."

He spoke as if he weren't part of the band himself, amusing both you and him.

Your eyebrow was raised in disbelief. "Family harmony? As in the unachievable? Sounds like a unique selling point."

He chuckled. "You'll see. Maybe you just need to experience it for yourself."

The crowd's cheering grew louder, catching both of you off-guard. His face dropped and he straightened up, putting distance between the two of you once more.

"That's my cue. See you later...?" He waved his hand, urging you for your name with a growing grin as he shimmied past you to the exit, allowing you entry into the bathroom.

"(Y/N)," you nodded. "And that's if I can even find you in that big ass crowd."

"Oh, you'll find me, alright."

And with a wink, he was gone, leaving you wanting for what he meant.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Little did you know, you'd find out exactly what he meant the moment you made it back to your friend. She stood upset, scolding you for taking so long but also praising how you managed to make it back with perfect timing, the concert beginning the moment you arrived.

You groaned, smacking yourself in frustration.

As the concert echoed through the arena, you found yourself oddly drawn to the music, not because it was BroZone, but because there seemed to be a familiar dude on stage. The same one you had encountered in the bathroom just ten minutes ago.

Clay couldn't shake you from his mind.

Even with the crowd chanting his name, the band's name, their screeches deafening, he couldn't help but let his roaming eyes search for yours.

And then he found you.

You stared back up at him in disbelief, and your jaw dropped at seeing him on stage.

He was dancing and singing, and all the while, all his attention seemed to be on you and your reaction. He messed up the lyrics, a small laugh escaping, earning him an unnoticed glare from the leader of the group.

He winked again and smiled, the crowd going crazy for it, unbeknownst to its target.

At that moment, amidst the flashing lights and the cheers of the crowd, Clay fell in love. Not with the fame or the music, but with the unexpected connection he found with you.

He couldn't help but wonder how someone like you, who wasn't even a fan, could make him feel more alive than any crowd ever could.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

cocobirdie's tweets!

there you go. first oneshot :3. not sure how to feel lolll definitely an overused idea but i wasnt sure how to go about it and i may or not have gone through tumblr searching for an idea on how to make this work. might write a continuation in the far future once i manage to get through all the requests and get motivation again idk!!!

clay's definitely ooc and i know this is a kids movie so they should be silly but i like to think hes more mature off-stage. that is what he wanted/wants anyway right? explains the unsilliness. all the characters are probably gonna be ooc sjjsjdsh anyway yes :3 BAIIII.

#trolls band together #trolls #trolls x reader #trolls band together x reader #brozone #brozone x reader #clay x reader #brozone clay x reader #trolls clay x reader #hes so man

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aemondavenue · 1 year

Note

Can you do a scenario or headcanon where Aemond finds out his wife takes moon tea because she overheard him say he doesn't want children

word count: 825

“I can’t remember a time of ever liking Father,” Aemond said.

Aegon sat back in his seat and looked at his brother. He had finally managed to get a few drinks in him. Trying to ease his nerves at the end of their long week of tense council meetings. The conversation had all too quickly turned to their father.

“I don’t remember people especially hating him, though. Viserys the Peaceful and all that,” Aegon responded, he then took a swig of his ale.

“Well, there were people who liked him somewhat as a King, but as our father he-“

“Oh, he was shit.”

“Well, yeah,” Aemond nodded, a smirk teasing on his lips.

The silence that then grew between them moved from humorous to melancholic.

Aemond sighed then said “Y/N and I are trying.”

“I do not need to hear about where you are spilling your-“

“I know! I mean to say I’ve been thinking about it ... The type of father I would be.”

Aegon looks at his brother again.

Aemond continues speaking.

“Sometimes I think it’s simple because of course we’ll have children. It’s our duty to produce heirs. To continue the Valyrian line. To bind our houses. To secure allyship for generations to come,” Aemond didn’t mention the other more personal reasons he wanted to bond to you in this way, “Once in a blue moon there are these other moments where I think to myself, am I ready though? To produce a person. I do want to be present, but what if I fuck up? At my lowest I’d think-“

── •

You padded across the hall, making your way back to your chambers. You longed for your husband's embrace and a restful sleep.

You catch the sound of his voice.

“I don’t want this.”

You hear a waver in his voice. Whatever he was saying he had not expressed to you. It was wrong, still you couldn’t help but lean in.

“I don’t want children.”

Your face fell.

“There’s all this pressure to-“

You’ve heard too much, you thought to yourself and stride off.

── •

Days pass.

You notice Aemond had grown colder and distanced since you overheard his confession.

You have since requested moon tea from the Maesters. You wanted to rid him of this burden. He was not ready and you forced the idea of a child upon him all too quickly, you thought.

You felt guilty. You felt hollow as you laid on your side in your shared bed. He would soon enter the room as well. The hour was late. Only the moonlight illuminated his path to the bed.

You felt the mattress shift beneath you and he positioned himself in his usual spot. You were faced away from him. It was as if his mere presence burned into your back.

“I need you to look at me, Issa jorrāelagon” My love.

You took a deep breath. You sat up. You looked at him, but then quickly down at your hands.

“Why is it I hear first from anyone, but yourself about … taking a moon tea?”

You didn’t know how to respond.

“Do you not want this? Do you not- did I do anything to- do you still love me?”

“Yes I do!” you turn to him now.

“Then what is it? Tell me!” he never raised his voice like this, never at you, not once. It wasn’t in anger, but desperation.

“I heard you!”

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“In the- I was in the corridor. I heard you say that you didn’t want children.”

He looked confused. He paused.

“And what else did you hear or was that the whole of it?” He said his voice was quieter again, even softer than usual.

You shook your head.

“It’s all I needed to hear,” you look down again, playing with your hands in your lap. You jaw clenched trying to hide any semblance of emotion.

“I have not told you, but-“ he pauses, “ I am scared.”

“Scared?”

“I want to be good enough for them, for you both. What if I'm not?”

You look at him.

“I know how I felt about my father. I don’t want them to feel that way about me-“

You turn to him and climb on his lap. You bring your hands to his face and prop his head up to look at you.

“You need to tell me these things husband,” you look him in the eye.

His face softens at your words.

“I don’t want to let you down in all this,” his voice is quiet.

“You wouldn’t! You realize this?” you shake your head and smile at him, “your worry proves that your care. That’s better than most men in positions similar to yours.”

“Do you think?” he questions.

“You will be an amazing father, my love. Our babes will love you for all you are and you them.”

“So you want a baby with me?”

“I do.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #asks #headcanons

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georgie-weasley · 11 months

Text

Truth or Dare J.P. x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of lame dares, mention of James getting a bloody nose, anxiety, Sirius Black

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: young!James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You kept your secret crush on James, well, a secret. From everyone but Sirius that is. That was a big mistake as now he’s forcing everyone to play truth or dare. Not to mention everyone has taken some truth potion too

A/N: the song James sings is “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor

Masterlist Taglist

The smirk on Sirius’s face was the only evidence you needed to know this was a horrible idea. There was a certain way his mouth would move when he came up with an idea that would end in some sort of disaster. Despite learning what this smirk looked like, you were never able to predict it before it happened. Usually, you noticed it much too late. Currently Sirius was smirking at you and you could practically see the gears working in his brain.

The afterparty the Gryffindor team had thrown to celebrate winning the Quidditch cup was finally winding down and you were sprawled out on the couch; the sound of conversations and the rain hitting the windows could have lulled you to sleep if it wasn’t for James. Your feet were resting on Sirius’s lap while your head was in James’s. His thumb was absentmindedly stroking your cheek as he carried on a conversation with Remus; the action sent butterflies to wreak havoc on your insides.

Sirius, who had only been watching the scene play out for a while, pinched your leg to get your attention. It was that action that caused you to look at him and see the terrifying smirk on his face. Months ago you made the mistake of confessing to Sirius about your crush on James. You hadn’t really meant to tell him since you thought you were just confessing to Remus but Sirius was the one who came in the empty classroom. You started spewing your feelings without looking to see exactly who came in. At least it wasn’t James.

But ever since then, Sirius made it a point to try and find a way to get you to admit your feelings for James to the man himself. You had him swear not to tell anyone, especially James and so far he’s followed his promise. Of course, you can never expect Sirius to keep his mouth shut for long.

“Everyone!” Sirius yelled and stood, shoving your feet off of him. “It’s time to play a little game of truth or dare, with a twist. Remus, it’s time.”

Remus abruptly ended the conversation with James and sprinted up the stairs to his dorm. As he came back down, he had a small vial in his hands and smirk that could almost rival Sirius on his face. He knew. After telling Sirius about your crush on James, you didn’t dare tell anyone else. It was bad enough that the biggest gossip in Hogwarts knew, no one else could know either. Except of course, Sirius told Remus; you were sure he told him because how else would he have known?

You weren’t sure if Peter or Lily knew but they soon proved they did when they also smirked at you. Did everyone but James know? You turned your head to risk looking at the boy that captured your heart but luckily he looked confused. You were safe, for now.

“What do you have Moons?” James asked, patting your arm a little before he helped you sit up.

“Yeah Moony, what’s in the vial?” Peter asked, nudging Lily with his elbow.

Remus looked you in the eye with a shit-eating grin. “Just a little potion Lily and I whipped up today.” He paused, no doubt for dramatic affect. “Veritaserum, the most powerful truth serum in the magical world.”

Sirius wandered over to Remus and plucked the potion from his hand. “Now any of you babies who pick truth over dare, won’t get away with a lie.”

At this, you scrambled off the couch and moved over to Sirius. “What are you doing? Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to Remus.” You hissed, grabbing his arm. “You can’t be serious.”

“Newsflash love, I am Sirius and I’ve given you plenty of chances to admit your feelings but you never did. Now, we’re forcing your hand. Get over it and play the game babes.” He patted your head much like you would do to a dog and gathered everyone to sit in a circle on the floor. You were sure that somewhere in his brain, Sirius was doing all of this to help. You never asked him to help but he wasn’t the type to just sit back and wait for things to happen. In some way, he thought this was the best way to help you, or you hoped that was the case.

You took a seat on the floor between Lily and Peter. Despite them also knowing about your feelings for James, you hoped they would be kinder. Remus moved around the circle and placed a single drop of the potion in everyone’s mouth. Once everyone, including himself had one, he sat down next to James who was across from you. “This is a safe group for Moony. Everyone here already knows about his hairy little problem.” Sirius smiled and turned to Peter. “Time to test the potion. Pete, what’s something you would never tell anyone?”

“I wet the bed until I was 10.” Peter answered quickly. Everyone was silent.

You patted his back and smiled. “Don’t worry Wormtail. It’s alright.”

Sirius nodded slowly before he cleared his throat. “Anyway, let’s start with James. Truth or dare?”

“Dare of course.” James rolled his eyes and leaned back on his elbows. He looked so cocky with the smirk on his face but he sure looked good.

“Lovely. I dare you to serenade Moony. Pick whatever song you’d like.”

James jumped to his feet immediately. “At first I was afraid, I was petrified. Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side.” He dropped to his knees and began crawling toward Remus who was looking anywhere but at James. “But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong and I grew strong. And I learned how to get along!” He crawled into his lap and grabbed his face in his hands, forcing his friend to watch him. He mumbled for a while, making up the words he didn’t know until he got to the chorus. “Did you think I’d crumble? Did you think I’d lay down and die? Oh, no not I! I will survive!”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Remus groaned and shoved James off his lap. He adjusted his glasses and crawled back to his seat.

“Personally,” he said as he sat down, “I think that was my best performance yet.” James sent you a wink and the butterflies were back with a vengeance. “And I think you should go next Moony.”

“No matter what I pick I’m sure I’ll be embarrassed so, truth I suppose.” Remus sighed and rubbed his face. He was certainly having regrets about playing this game.

“When was the most inappropriate time you farted?” James asked through the giggles that overtook him. The rest of the group laughed along with him but you were too busy smiling to laugh. James had the cutest and sweetest laugh you ever heard. It reminded you of pure joy and you were sure if you could find a way to bottle it up and sell it, you'd be a billionaire.

“In History of Magic two weeks ago. Binns gave us a test and it slipped out. I blamed it on James and everyone believed me.”

James pouted and stopped laughing while everyone else only laughed harder.

---

The night continued with silly questions and dares and surprisingly, many of them were not directed at you. Either everyone had forgotten their plan to make you confess your feelings or it hadn’t happened yet. Just when you thought you were going to get out of this with your dignity still intact, Sirius turned to you. “Alright Y/N. I’m giving you the option here. Truth or dare?”

You didn’t know which one to pick. If you chose truth you were sure Sirius would force you to just admit your feelings. Dare had its own risks too. Sirius had made Lily and Peter switch tops (he actually looked quite cute in the crop top), Moony had to drop his pants and moon the group, and poor James had to try and do a backflip; his nose had just stopped bleeding. There was no winning. “Truth.” Sirius had that wild smirk back on his face. “No! I choose dare. I meant to say dare!”

“Too late. If you had to marry someone in the group, who would you pick and why?”

That actually wasn’t too bad. “James. He’s sweet and funny and he can always make me smile. He’s also pretty handsome too.” Perhaps you would have lied if you could have but with the way James was smiling at you, you were glad you had to tell the truth.

“James, since you won Y/N’s hand in marriage, she can do the honors of giving you your truth or dare.” Sirius patted James on the back and winked at him. That had to have been some sort of secret message between them.

“Well then, I choose truth as well.”

It would be easy to ask him if he liked you or if he liked anyone. He would have no choice but to tell the truth and then you would know. If he did like you, maybe things could change and you would tell him the truth too. Of course if he didn’t, your heart may never recover. You had been friends with Lily before you were friends with the marauders. Every time James would flirt with Lily or even talk to her, your heart would flutter. He eventually stopped bothering her and they became friends which meant you also became his friend. It had been a couple of years now and the friendship with James was easy. He was so caring and he always took the time to check on you and make you laugh. He was easy to fall in love with.

“What was the last lie that you told?”

James hummed as he tried to remember, a blush coating his cheeks. “I think it must have been when I told Sirius I didn’t have a crush on anyone.”

So he did like someone! That someone could even be you. You couldn’t help getting your hopes up as you watched him rub the back of his neck and look at the ground. Sirius looked at you and smiled, actually smiled; he must have been thinking the same thing as you. “Prongs, is your crush here?”

James nodded.

“Then I vote you have to kiss them!” Sirius proposed and everyone cheered.

James paled and shook his head. “I can’t do that. Everyone will know and if they don’t like me then everyone else will see it happen.” He looked as terrified as you felt.

“How about,” Remus said and quieted the group, “we all close our eyes so we don’t see who he kisses. Sound alright to you Jamie?”

He shrugged and everyone closed their eyes, including you. Once darkness fell, so did the silence. No one moved or made a sound until across the way you could hear James shuffling. The sound of his movements got louder and you assumed, and hoped, he was moving toward you. Then, all of a sudden, the shuffling stopped. Could he have stopped in front of Lily? Could he have stopped in front of Peter? Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were sure the rest of the group, possibly even all of Hogwarts, could hear it thumping. What if he didn’t kiss you? Would you be able to continue on with the friendship knowing there was no possible chance it could blossom into something more? You wanted to believe you could but it was hard enough to look at that messy hair and his sweet hazel eyes and his perfectly pink lips without knowing his feelings. How could you ever look at him again if you knew he felt nothing more for you than friendship?

What if he did kiss you? Would you kiss him back or would you be too shocked? What if he kissed you and you forgot how to kiss? What if you sucked at kissing and it made him change his mind? What if it was magical and everything you dreamed it would be and you started dating and then eventually you broke up? Would it ruin the friendship? Was it worth the risk of losing him to even try and get him in the first place? You were never going to confess to him.

Your heart was beating faster and faster and all the air in your lungs escaped you. Your head was spinning and your thoughts were racing. Was the room always this hot or was it just you? Why was it still so quiet? Did something happen and you missed it? Had James kissed someone else and told everyone to open their eyes and you were sitting there with your eyes closed like an idiot? It was too much.

Your eyes flew open and you jumped back; James was right in front of your face with worry written all over his. His eyebrows furrowed and he grabbed your hand, steadying it. You didn’t even know you were shaking. “Hey, are you alright?”

You stared at him with wide eyes and glanced around him. Everyone else had opened their eyes and they were now watching you both. The air shot back in your lungs and your chest heaved as you tried to get your breathing under control. James continued to watch you, waiting for some kind of answer. When you didn’t have one for him, he grabbed your hand and helped pull you to your feet. “Let’s go to my dorm and get some air.” He started to lead you to the stairs but turned to look at the group one last time. “We’ll be back down in a bit. Just, stay here and give us some time?”

He put a hand on the small of your back to help guide you up the stairs. Once you were in the dorm, he grabbed your hand and pulled you over to his bed, helping you sit. “Stay right there.” He whispered before rushing around the room and throwing open all of the windows. The fresh air coming in did help calm your breathing. Your mind was still racing but as James sat next to you and you listened to the sound of the rain outside, your thoughts began to slow.

James slowly wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to his side. “What happened?” He whispered. “I was crawling around and I could hear you breathing all heavy. Then you started shaking and I was going to check on you and then you kinda scared the shit out of me and opened your eyes.”

A small smile appeared on your face as you laid your head on his shoulder. James really could always make you smile. The smile didn’t stay long as you began speaking. “I was scared you were going to kiss someone else but I was scared you were going to kiss me. I started overthinking everything and I just got nervous.” The words flew out of your mouth before you could even think about what you were saying.

“Why were you scared?” James whispered and you could feel his body tense next to you.

“Because I’m in love with you.” Holy shit. Why did you say that? “I didn’t want you to kiss anyone else because I would never be able to look at you the same if I knew you thought of me as just a friend. But I was scared you were going to kiss me because then things would change and if something ever went wrong, I couldn’t live without you.” You just poured out your deepest secret about James to James. What were you doing? You decided to never tell James about your crush so why did you say it? You scanned the room, hoping that maybe there would be some answer and there was. Laid out on one of the beds was Remus’s favorite sweater. Remus.

The veritaserum! It was still working and it just made you spill your guts to James. You shoved yourself away from him and covered your mouth with your hands. James watched you with wide eyes but neither one of you moved.

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you watched him as well. What could you possibly say to make this better? “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to tell you because I was so worried that it would ruin our friendship but that stupid potion really does work well and I couldn’t help myself. I want to say I’ll be fine if you don’t like me but I probably won’t be alright. I love you so much James but if you don’t love me in any sort of romantic way then I’ll have to live with it. Just please, don’t hate me; don’t leave me.”

James swallowed thickly and pushed his glasses further up his face. His cheeks were bright red and his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth. “Do you really love me?”

“Of course I do.” You dropped your hands from your mouth. You didn’t have to continue as you already answered his question truthfully but the damage was done. There wasn’t any more harm you could do if you told him why. “You’re the most amazing guy I know. You’re funny even when I lie and tell you I hate your jokes. You can make me smile no matter what kind of day I’m having. You make me feel special and loved and when I talk you give me your full attention. You remember my favorite book and my favorite food and you always remember my birthday. You’re perfect James. How could I not love you?”

His eyes traced over your body a few times before they stopped on your face. The way he was looking at you, the intensity of it all, made you want nothing more than to shy away. But you couldn’t. You had to see this through to whatever end. “Do you… do you love me too?” You whispered, unsure if he could even hear you.

“I do. I love you Y/N.” Time stopped as he spoke. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing anymore. Could this be a dream? It was only fitting that the man of your dreams confessing his love for you would happen in a dream. Gingerly, James reached out and took your hand. He was warm and a little sweaty; James always got sweaty hands when he was nervous. His palm was heavy on top of yours and as he scooted closer to you, you decided that if this was a dream, you didn’t want to wake up anytime soon.

He stopped moving when his face was just centimeters away from yours. “Can I kiss you?” This close you could see the deep browns and brilliant greens in his eyes. You could smell the cologne he put on after each quidditch match.

“Please.” That was all it took. He leaned forward and planted his lips on yours, softly at first but soon he leaned in further. His arms wrapped around your torso as your hands threaded through his hair. Your lips moved together in perfect harmony and you could no longer tell where you began and he ended. Desperate for more, you climbed onto his lap and your noses bumped.

“Ow shit.” James quickly pulled back and covered his nose with his hand. In the moment you had forgotten all about his poor nose.

“I’m so sorry James.” You whispered but soon started to laugh. Nothing was exactly funny but something about the whole situation was hilarious. James joined in your laughter and shook his head. As the giggles died down, he rested his forehead on yours.

“I should probably see Madam Pomfrey about my nose in the morning. I did hit the ground pretty hard.” James smiled and pecked your lips.

“What happens now?” You whispered, tucking some hair behind his ear.

“Besides finding some ice for my nose?”

“Yes,” you laughed. “Besides that.”

James hummed and rested his hands on your hips. “How about after my nose gets fixed I’ll take you on a date? We can go to the Three Broomsticks and take a walk. Maybe get some candy?”

“I’d like that a lot.”

“Splendid.” He mumbled and leaned in again, attaching his lips to yours. The dormitory door swung open and you quickly pulled away from him. Sirius stood in the doorway and as he took in the sight of you on his best friend’s lap and James still leaned in for a kiss, he smirked that same wicked smirk.

“Well, pardon me.” He winked at James and turned around, shutting the door behind him. You could still hear him yell, “Moony! Wormtail! We’re sleeping on the couch tonight boys! Prongs finally got the girl!”

Taglist (if your name is crossed out I can't tag you)

@100gaysnails @weasleybuns @steelthistle @jsjcue @andy200700

#hp fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfcition #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #marauders fanfiction #hp marauders #marauders era #the marauders #marauders fanfic #marauders fluff #marauders fic

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blingblong55 · 8 months

Text

Did you care?- König

Part 1 is here

F!Reader, angst, no happy ending, cheating

"König!" you laugh, the waves of the warm summer ocean crashing against you. His family had invited you with them that summer, the first girl he ever brought home. He never told you that though. "Oh my Liebling." he laughs with you, taking you deeper into the ocean. It was then that he knew how strong love can be. Hours later, as you chased his little nieces and nephew along the shore, his family told him something he still remembers.

The accident, that is when you knew he still cared. At the age of 37, that is when he became a father to a woman he never loved. A car crash and stitches, that is what brought you to him. A father and a boyfriend, never to marry anyone else that isn't you, that is what made him a coward to his girlfriend's family. "R/N, König has gotten into a car accident." his mother called you around 2 am, her voice so tired and filled with fear. You dropped everything, including the late-night dinner you were having with your then-partner.

"Love, where are you going?" he questioned you. "A friend needs me, she...she broke up with her boyfriend and she needs me." The first of many lies you told to keep him safe. You didn't cheat but you lied to visit the guy you will always love. As you drove to the hospital, tears ran down your face. It was fear, regret and shame. "Hallo, ich muss einen Patienten finden-"

"R/N." his mother came rushing to you, tears on her face. You hugged her and walked with her to the waiting area. His father was there as well, you hugged him too and after minutes of breaks and cries, the story lay in your hands. The mother of his child ran away with his kid, he begged and cried for her to return. She lost their kid, got arrested and after a week of looking, he heard his child was found. One drunk driver, that is all it took to have you sit there, holding the hand of his forlorn mother. His child was under the custody of the police and he was in a grey room.

"You think you'll ever end up marrying me, R/N?" he looked over at you as you hung up decorations for Christmas. "I don't see myself ever marrying and there are times I fear of it. Just know this, I know I am meant for someone." He nods and keeps the ring in his pocket tucked away. "Yeah." was all he answered. You looked at him as he looked away at some decoration.

"For you, that is who I am meant for. I don't want a ring, a dress or a ceremony, I want this, this life you and I already have." you wished to say but those words never came out. Month after month you gave him clear clues that you wanted to be the one he lived with, old and grey.

You didn't even notice when his parents had gone to his room. You sat and stared at the white wall. The two years and a half that you spent trying to forget him all come crashing down. One phone call from his mother and you were there at his disposal. Many ask, what parts of life flash before someone as they near their possible death? For him it was you. The day at the beach, Christmas, the drunk karaoke, silly argument over movies. "Harry and Sally stayed together!" you protested. "Mein Liebling, Harry and Sally are two of the people I know will not make it to old age together. It was a kiss, maybe Sally left after that."

The one thing that he knew flashed before his eyes was the conversation at the beach years ago. Once you were let into his room, you sat by his bed. Parents out in the hallways, you held his hand. Fear was to die alone but this image was the current fear. Tears ran down your face, it didn't matter that he cheated years ago, that you two hadn't spoken since but what mattered was him now. You stoked his hair and kissed his forehead with trembling lips. Before, you couldn't stand him, but he was in this world alive and that brought you tranquillity. The thought of him no longer in it, that was the fear. Who cared if he moved on, he was alive, healthy and happy.

The muse to the blues you whistled, the kiss he gave you on the mysterious bruise, the cliche dance in the kitchen at midnight, and now you sit there, looking at his scarred face. You whispered for only him to hear, "That evening in December, when you were going to propose, I would've said yes, I was meant for someone, remember?" You stood up and walked out of the room. "R/N, will you stay?" His father asks. "I'm sorry, I have to meet someone early in the morning but keep me updated." You kissed his father's cheek and hugged his mother.

Meanwhile, König lay in that bed, eyes teary as he heard your confession. The ring he wanted to give you was on a chain that hung by his neck. Always to be by his heart. "Liebling." he whispers. "I want to marry you, over and over again." That is a promise two young lovers made.

"When we get old, you and I better retell the story of us," you say as you lay in the green grass. "And I will tell it to you every night," König spoke softly. "Every night," he holds your hand. "I will always tell you the story of how I met the greatest thing in my life." He smiles and sighs happily, "And I'll make you fall in love with me all over again." He meant every word, he wanted the spark of love between them to never die, for them to always be in love. "I'll always fall in love with you as if it was the first time, every single time." He cared, more than you'll ever know.

"You never let her go, my son." his mother sternly says. He sighs and looks over at you, his youngest niece hung by his arms, his nephew chasing you both. The giggles from the children and your laughter, yeah, he wants that life with you. "You think she'll want to?" he asks his parents. "If not today or in a year, I know she will." He looks at the ring and nods. "When I marry her, can you both please not give a long speech?" This caused his parents to laugh and nod a little.

Maybe the movies and all the news articles are right, in some universe, you and him are together. And in that universe, he has his three kids, a wife and the picket fence to his home. A home with you, two hearts that beat for the other. He cares.

Tags: @sunshiinegaz @liyanahelena

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hotheadedhero · 21 days

Note

Ok question how would the tmnt bros (all 4) react to someone having a crush on them, and they confess, but the turtle rejects at time... but later on he realizes no wait I actually do like them!

But theres already been like a good month or more since the confession and their crush has been sorta avoiding them by hanging out with the other turtle bros and though still being polite, they avoid like being alone with their turtle crush and try to act like they don't have a crush still(but they do)

Sorry if I didn't write the request right! and thanks for your writing I love how you write the turtles!

Frothing at the mouth. No words. Speechless. Thank you so much anon! This request is absolutely amazing and tugged at my heart in all the good ways, you beauty. So glad you like my writing tyty <3 Apologies for the wait btw :] I might have meddled with the idea a bit depending on the turtle but I hope this is the kind of thing you were hoping for! May even make a part 2 continuation because there was just so much to write, this was really a lot of fun so thank you again :P I let fate decide which version to base this on and we got Bayverse!

Rejection, Realisation, and Regret

Warnings: bad language, grovelling turtles for their idiocy, angst with this in mind, oh these boys are some real idiots

Bay Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Turns you down as gently as he can but it still feels like a sucker punch to the gut. It may sound calloused but he's a ninja, a mutant, a protector before anything else and that includes being someone's boyfriend. With a constructive discussion on the matter, he can only hope that you understand his position. You assured him that you did.

So, then, how is it that he barely gets a conversation in with you these days? And why does that fact burn a hole in his stomach? This pit, although metaphorical, weighs down heavily on him. Assumably, he’s missing one-on-one with a friend until it truly occurs to him just what exactly is going on. There's a lesson to be learned here, he's sure - a saying that goes around as if taken from an ancient script: you don't realise how good you have it until it's gone. You're not gone perse but you make a point of avoiding him individually. As well-mannered as you try to be, he's noticed and he's noticed the hurt in his belly that comes alongside it.

He thought things were okay, that despite the rejection, you would still be able to comfortably continue your friendship without any issues. It seems he managed even to fool himself. Being so caught up in what it means to be one of New York's self-acclaimed protectors, he was completely absentminded to the feelings that had been bubbling up inside him all along. No wonder he's been losing focus on his training as of late. He has attempted to try and talk to you about it but to no avail. Has your heart really been that broken?

For once, he doesn’t know what to do, or what decision should be made. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. Who's the one person he can turn to at a time like this? Come on. Who else would it be?

"Sensei, you know better than anyone that our position comes with complications. That we as ninjas are sworn to certain oaths.”

"Yes, the duty of yourself and your brothers is indeed a heavy burden. Responsibility comes with risk and consequence as I am sure you are well aware of by now.” Splinter watches his son bow down as he thoughtfully strokes his beard. "However, sensei, rat, master; alongside all of these things, I am foremost a father who wishes to see his sons be happy. You're in love, are you not?"

Leo’s attention quickly turns up from the floor to his master. How had he figured it out? Must be that parental instinct. Either way, he’s thankful for that in some respect. It makes this easier. Less complicated.

The turtle nods and breathes out, "I am, Sensei."

"That's what I thought." His father lays a hand over Leo’s shoulder before it taps him against the side of his head. "Now, what are you waiting for? Talking to me isn't going to change the situation."

Splinter is right. It's high time for him to get out of his funk and strategise the best way to make amends. He can only hope he isn’t too late.

Raphael

Rejects you thinking it was some sick prank curated by his youngest brother or something. There's no way you have a thing for him. He's a mutant and you're a human. How could someone actually be in love with a freak like himself? That's why he blows up in your face when you attempt to pour your heart out to him. Whatever joke you thought would be funny, isn't.

He may have taken things out of proportion. This much is made obvious enough by the poorly thought-out excuses you make just to avoid being alone with him. Yeah, that's right, he thinks. You should feel ashamed for trying to pull a stupid stunt like that, for trying to mess with him. He's standing firm on his self-assurance. Don't think for a second that he's going to lose sleep over what he said that day.

However, life has a very funny way of playing its own game. It all comes to fruition when you're laughing with the leader of the brothers. When your hand landed on his forearm, Raphael was struck with something fierce. The shot of jealousy to his heart almost takes him for a wild spin but he disregards it for typical Leo/Raph rivalry. Until that night, anyway. This man is tossing and turning in bed, ruminating on that sickly feeling in his chest; losing sleep over it. No. Surely not. He isn't in love with you. This isn't something that's been in the making for however long now. So what if you managed to calm him down quicker than anyone else he's ever known? Big whoop if you used to make a point of checking up on him when no one dared to go near him. It’s no big deal that you’d hype him up and cheer him on before each mission.

Fuck. He's been in love with you this whole time, hasn't he? Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was probably the only chance he had at something close to normal in his life and he trampled over it like it was nothing. That's assuming it was even genuinely meant from your end to begin with. He still has his doubts all things considered. Either way, he can’t just sit in bed and wallow in his head all night. He needs some air.

"What crawled up your shell and died?"

Great. He had hoped to get some peace and quiet. Not that this city knows the definition of either word but that isn’t the point.

"Not now, Jones. I ain't in the mood."

Casey's head rolls against his shoulders and he sighs, "Hey, if this is to do with (Y/n) ignoring you, what do you expect? 'Can't just make someone cry and expect things to be okay after without an apology."

Raph's mask slowly descends and hoods over his eyes, those of which are now staring down the detective.

"Oh, shit. You didn't know?"

No. No, he did not. He really made you cry? Why would you-? Ah. Two things smack him up the head at this moment: you meant every word of what you admitted a month ago and he is an absolute asshole. Despite already living in the sewers, he feels like the scum of the Earth.

That's it. No more holding back. No more being chicken. He might have ruined his chance but he can at least try and make things right by you.

Donatello

Aloof. Absolutely aloof and utterly clueless to the fact that you were even trying to admit your feelings for him. Yet, the way that the whole situation plays out makes it seem as though he had denied you. His head is usually stuck in a book or on one of the many screens that litter his quarters. What can you really expect of him? Unfortunately, this isn’t something that comes to mind nor is taken into consideration when you attempt your casual proclamation. With his eyes glued to his computer, his inattentiveness could only be read as uninterest to which you find it’s probably best to withdraw yourself.

In the weeks to come, it still doesn't even occur to him that you were confessing. The only thing that dawns on him from your weirdly abrupt absence is how strange it feels without you around. You still engage in your regular visits to the lair but are always elusive to his corner. Had he missed a memo? He can't quite place a finger on your change in behaviour. Then he realises just how much he enjoys and misses your presence. Even just how you'd pass by his little section of the lair and do something as small as asking him what he's working on. The small details should always get their chance in the spotlight but he managed to miss them when they were right there in front of him. When you were in front of him.

Subsequent to this steady progression of fluttering heart palpitations upon the thought of you and his drying throat when he tries to speak your way, he decides to take some action. At least, that’s the plan he has in his head. You hardly look his way, so he needs to find a way to gain your attention. There must be some way. With somewhat of an idea in mind, he dials a number through his computer and lets it ring.

The other side of the line picks up and there’s a voice. “If this has anything to do with goons, aliens or whatever trouble you guys have gotten yourselves into, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Relax, Vern. This is something that entirely requires your expertise without life endangerment. I need to ask about women,” Donnie confirms, cutting right to the chase.

There’s a pause. "What-?” Another longer pause and then an inhale. “Can't you just ask one of your brothers or something?"

Yeah, right, because his family of sewer dwellers are so well-equipped for this matter. Even asking for Vern's aid is pushing the boat a little but it's better than nothing - a baseline structure of what to expect is all he needs. The internet would probably be more reliable but it doesn’t include that vital real-world experience.

"You engage in frequent courting. By all accounts, you're the only person I know who has enough field experience to give advice."

This might be giving Vern too much credit but this is a surefire way to get what he wants. Feeding a man's ego can accomplish many things. Call it manipulation of the circumstances if you will but no harm done.

"You know what?” There’s a brightness in his tone, an uptilted cadence in Vern’s rhetorical question. Bingo. “You being the smart one has never been more accurate, Don. Alright, I'll help you."

The notes he takes are unfathomable but he wants to make sure that everything is thought out with careful precision. That's not even taking into account that he needs to muster the courage to ask you out in the first place.

Michelangelo

One would think that this guy would be jumping with unparalleled joy to have someone confess their feelings for him but he's got eyes for someone else. April O'Neil is his one true babycake, his angel face, the first love he had ever known. He turns you down in the friendly way one would expect him to if not a little cocky. Who wouldn't want a piece of the MC Mikey? There aren’t any hard feelings though, right?

Well, no but the sting that follows is still too much for you to handle. Too much in fact that you decide it's best to recoil into a shell of your own and spend less time with the loveable terrapin. Such a shame as well considering you're missing out on your regular gaming sessions together. It probably sucks big time to be rejected but he meant no harm by it. He thought you could still hang out as you normally would. Perhaps you just needed some time. That’s what he reckoned until the days turned to weeks and those weeks to almost two months.

He’s subjected to playing bystander when you hang out with his family, barely getting a chance to have a word with you alone. If this treatment is good for anything, it gives him a chance to spectate and watch how you interact with those around you rather than directly with him. He recognises how much he adores that sparkle in your eyes, the playfulness of your tone when you crack out jokes with his brothers, how you light up the entire lair when you make your presence known. There is this unshakable spirit within you that he somehow never noticed until a few days prior when you took the liberty of playing an incredibly bold practical joke at Casey's expense. Man, this turtle's heart sored higher than it ever has before, which is saying something considering he had to jump out of a plane once.

Well, colour him surprised. He was so sure of himself that New York's favourite journalist was the only one for him but it seems he was wrong. Oh, man. He's feeling pretty bad now. He can surely make up for what happened though, right? Hopefully. There's only one way of finding out but he has one thing he needs to do first before talking to you.

"I'm sorry, angel face. My sights have been led astray. My loyalty shouldn’t be doubted but it’s for someone else now.”

The way Mikey is knelt down, head lowered with April’s hands in his own is a perplexing sight if not curiously amusing. His feelings and the pronounced “dibs” on the reporter have been no secret but his recent infatuation with you hasn’t been much of a secret either. Not to her anyway but she likes to think she’s good at picking up on these things.

“Just know that you'll always have a special place in my heart,” he finishes, ending the overly dramatised display by holding a fist to his chest.

"Considerate as always." Her expression is somewhere between humoured and endeared, fighting the shake of her head at how adorably ridiculous this turtle can be. "Thanks, Mikey."

Now that's out of the way, he can go into this with a clear head. Although, the only thing really going into this is going to be all of his heart.

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moni-logues · 10 months

Text

BDE

Pairing: Chan x gn.reader

Genre: pwp/smut but it's a little fluffy, established relationship

Summary: Chan tries to insist he has BDE when all he really has is a BD.

Word count: 2.1k

Content: Chan has a Big Dick, oral sex (m. receiving inc deep throat and choking), sexual activity in public toilets (but no one is around)

A/N: this started with, who else?, @minttangerines. I honestly don't even remember how the conversation started but then we were talking about a fic about Chan's Big Dick struggles lmao and this idea was born. That was weeks ago now and she finally wrote it. Thank you to Lia @quarter-life-crisis2 for reading this so late at night to reassure me it didn't suck balls.

“I don’t know about these, y’know...”

“Well, I told you, didn’t I? You should have sized up!”

“But I always get this size!”

“And they’ve changed their sizing! I told you! And you didn’t listen so now you have to suffer.”

You turned away from Chan and back to the mirror while he fussed, trying to adjust himself comfortably in his new boxer briefs that were, quite clearly, a little snug.

“I don’t know if I can wear these,” Chan groaned, sitting heavily on the bed with his trousers unzipped.

“You don’t own that suit; you cannot go commando. And I’m not letting you wear any of mine.”

Chan groaned again, loudly aggrieved, and lay back on the bed.

“Can’t believe I’m being hoisted by my own petard! Too much big dick energy!” he cried and you turned to deliver a withering look.

“My darling, I am not sure you know what any of those words mean. You do not have BDE.”

He was back upright in a flash.

“What?! How can you say that?! We are literally having a conversation about how I don’t fit in my fucking pants right now.”

“Having a big dick is not the same as having big dick energy?” You did not, before this moment, realise that your boyfriend was quite this stupid. It gave you second thoughts about the entire relationship.

“It’s in the name? BIG DICK energy.”

You gestured wildly, looking around the room as if there were anyone else there who could back you up.

“Big Dick Energy. You might have a big dick-”

“-I do, thank you ver-”

“YES, fine! You do have a big dick, but that is not all that’s required. And I will neither accept nor tolerate your saying that it is.”

“Putting me down in my time of strife. What a loveless relationship we have.”

You give him an exaggerated wink and turned back to the mirror once more to apply your lipstick.

With no solution to his problem, Chan had no choice but to zip himself up, make himself presentable, and pray to the gods that the circulation to his dick wouldn’t get cut off. There are some losses no mere mortal could survive.

“Stop fidgeting!” you hissed to him as he squirmed on the red carpet next to you.

It was bright and overwhelming and you were reminded why you so infrequently accompanied him to these events. This time, though, he had been nominated for an award so you wouldn’t have dreamt of missing it. The camera flashes made your eyes hurt and the cacophony of paparazzi calls blurred into a singular, uninterpretable noise; it was like entering a completely inhuman world, where you were devoid of your usual senses, disoriented, out of place, and, were it not for Chan, completely untethered.

This time, you were also distracted by his wriggling.

“I can’t help it!” he hissed back. “I’m losing circulation down there, I swear!”

“You’ll lose more than that if you keep touching your fucking dick on a red carpet!”

He huffed but duly held still for the rest of the photos, shooting off into the toilets as soon as you got into the building.

He was uncomfortable. He could barely keep his hands away from his crotch. You noticed. You were sure other people also noticed. You were not sure that this was in any way good. You slipped one hand into his and pulled it into your lap. That didn’t stop him. The night was going to be long – already had been long and had so far left to go. You felt as though you were going to have to take things into your own hands.

Not literally.

Maybe literally.

You leant over, your mouth close to his ear.

“If you can leave yourself alone until the ceremony is over, I’ll make it worth your while,” you whispered, letting your lips just barely touch the hinge of his jaw before sitting back in your seat.

He didn’t turn to look at you but you saw his Adam’s apple bob and he squeezed your hand tight. His free hand moved to the arm of the seat and stayed there.

“This counts, right?” he was asking before you were even out of the door. “It’s over?”

He was pushing you gently, steering you into the nearest dark corner, and then pressing against you, his hands at your waist, his nose in your hair.

“Have your boxers cut off the circulation to your brain, Chan?” You pushed him, a little less gently, backwards. “We are still in public! You really want me to suck you off right here?” You were whispering, eyes flicking beyond Chan’s head as more and more people filed out of the auditorium on their way to bars, after parties, bathrooms.

“Honestly?” he asked, eyebrows raised, saying ‘yes’ without actually saying it.

“I am not breaking public indecency laws for you.”

“I’d do it for you!”

“Oh, you’d go down on me here, would you?”

He was genuinely lowering to his knees before you had finished the sentence and you scrambled to haul him to his feet, your face burning hot with embarrassment.

“You’re incorrigible!”

“No, baby, I am fucking desperate. Desperate to get these piece of shit boxers off me and your mouth on me.”

You had promised him. So you wandered, as inconspicuously as possible, around to the other side of the building, to find some toilets that weren’t so busy. Rather, you were hoping for some that were empty.

And you were in luck.

“Shit, it’s my lucky night!” Chan whispered as you pushed open the last stall door, confirming that they were all empty.

“Honey, you didn’t win the award and your underwear is slowly strangling your dick. What about that is lucky?”

“First of all, rude. Second of all, in about one minute, I won’t even be able to remember my own name, let alone all that other stuff. Stop using your mouth to be smart and let me choke you.”

You rolled your eyes and sank to your knees as he eliminated the space between you. He hesitated as he unzipped, then rolled his own eyes, stooping to kick off his shoes, take off his trousers and stretch, roll, and pull the offending underwear off, muttering all the while about how stupid they were and how much he hated them and the strongly worded email he’d be writing. Then he stood, naked from the waist down.

“Oh yeah, you’re all BDE now. Y’know, Winnie the Pooh, he really fucks.”

When Chan looked at you, you expected him to laugh or smirk or hell, roll his eyes back at you, but he didn’t. He just looked down with that dark intensity in his face, the one that said he wasn’t going to take it easy on you. He gestured with two fingers for you to come closer and you shuffled awkwardly on your knees. Then he traced your face with a featherlight touch. You reached your own hand up and used the same lightness as you ran your finger down his length.

As his fingertips reached your jaw, he held you, his fingers starting to press, harder and harder as you opened your mouth wider. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip as he sank his teeth into his own. You stuck your tongue out to lick at his thumb as it passed and he nodded at you.

He held you like that, mouth open, tongue out, looking up at him, as he took himself in his free hand, stiffening quickly, pumping slowly. He made you wait until the pre-cum was dripping from his head, until he was quietly huffing little satisfied groans, until you were shifting uncomfortably on your knees, your legs going numb, your stomach tightening with anticipation, your mouth watering—saliva flooding, making a mess of your clothes when you hadn’t even had a taste of him yet. You knew better than to ask, better than to protest. He’d only make you wait longer. Even though it was him who wanted this, who was ‘desperate’ for it, you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to make this a punishment for you.

When you thought you would fall over, pass out, fling your hands into the air and grab hold of him, he nudged his hips forward, only the very tip of his dick touching your tongue. You lunged forward, wrapping your lips around him, expecting him to move backwards, to tease some more, to make you show him how patient you could be.

He didn’t. He really was desperate. He let you take him to the hilt, eyes springing with tears when he hit your throat, those tears making tracks down your cheeks as you swallowed him, as you pushed until your nose hit his skin.

“That’s right,” he sighed, his head tipping back, his fingers winding in your hair. “You fucking know- shit, you know how to do that right.”

You did. When you first got together, he had very shyly confessed to you that he’d never come from a blowjob before, because people were intimidated by his size, because he was self-conscious of it, all too aware that it was too much for most. He never felt like he could ask for what he wanted, how he liked it, didn’t want to demand or pressure or make his partners feel uncomfortable. So he’d just sucked it up and, eventually, gone without. It was ok, he had said with a light shrug; he didn’t really mind; he knew it was a lot. He had said many things that he had convinced himself were true. That he didn’t matter. Not really. That his partners shouldn’t try to make him feel good, that they shouldn’t work together to make all parts of sex a mutually enjoyable experience.

But you weren’t easily intimidated. You were quickly and easily infatuated and then in love with a man so sweet, he spiked your blood sugar; a man so smart, he raised your IQ; a man so hot, he was targeted by climate change activists. And you were determined to show him what he had been missing. Determined to show him what he was worth. Determined to show him that no big dick was going to get in the way of you getting him all the way off, using just your mouth.

He whimpered, the pitch of his voice tremulously high now, his dick leaping in your mouth so you gagged, choked a little, made him really feel the tight squeeze of your throat. He was whispering under his breath, swearing quickly, calling to god (as if he could help, as if he could do anything you couldn’t), breathing your name in a way that made you physically ache for him to fill you.

You had this down to an art. You knew his every twitch and every hitch in his breath, could time, down to the second, when he was about to finish. Still bobbing up and down, drooling along his rigid length, you took his balls in one hand and squeezed, slowly and evenly, pressing and rubbing on his taint with the other. You felt the full-body shudder go through him and the gasp which always accompanied his release. You took it all, every drop, every time.

Chan stood, his hands fallen from your hair, limp at his sides, his eyes closed, mouth open, breathing gradually evening out. You sat back and watched him.

“I can’t believe I have to put those fucking boxers back on,” he said when his feet touched back down to earth.

You laughed.

“Don’t make me say ‘I told you so’ again.”

You stumbled as you rose to your feet, your legs fizzing back to life and making you unsteady. Chan held you securely.

“You know I like you a lot more with my dick in your mouth?”

But he was smiling, dreamy-eyed, putting his warm, solid hands on your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. It was more than you had expected: not a peck, his lips firm against yours, opening slightly, the pressure as he sucked at your bottom lip making your knees go weak again. You smiled at him when he pulled back, dazed, a haze of love and lust swirling around you.

You hummed lightly.

“Well, if you’re a really good boy for the rest of the night, I’ll put it back there when we get home.”

He grinned, smirked actually, and gave you another quick kiss.

“Can’t resist my big dick energy, right?”

Your face fell as his lifted into a shit-eating grin. You walked away, out of the toilets, leaving him scrambling to re-dress himself and come after you.

#chan x reader #bangchan x reader #chan smut #skz x reader #skz smut #bangchan smut #chan fic #bangchan fic #skz fic

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junebugtwin · 9 months

Text

okay actually i need to ramble about taylor and her dad for like a bit cus its sooo much.

like okay listen listen listen: Danny wakes up early and he cooks breakfast maybe and then he goes to work and he does his job- and he's great at his job, in any world but this one, in any other brockton bay, he'd be able to afford to take taylor out of winslow or fix their broken step- maybe get her her like a dog or something (which btw would fix her) and y'know pay the bills and shit. but he can't in this universe because in this universe kaiju attack every 2 seconds and one specifically doesn't like people existing on coasts and like he's a dockworker or whatever so! so. so he works all day tirelessly just to not get his crew jobs or better pay because no one is going to sponsor the people working on a non-existent dock like its literally a graveyard! who would pay for this when there's an actual dragon man running around the city burning buildings down and an entire neo-nazi contingent of super-cunts nobody is going to do that. But this is his life. And he's stubborn and things had been better before so maybe they can be good again and he hates change and he doesn't want to have it all been for nothing and this is what he does. So he gives it his all. He stays late and he really only hangs out with his coworkers and he does have to pay the bills so its not like anyone could blame him. So he slams his head into the brick wall hoping it will break before his skull will and he misses so fucking much of what is going on in his daughters life! but it goes by so quickly, too quickly and by the time he's begun to figure out just how deeply and irrecoverably she's changed its way too late to just swing back in like nothing happened. He can't actually! They've both closed themselves off totally, her even farther than he has. but they're both stubborn, so stubborn and they think that if they can just hold on a little longer then things will be okay because things have to be okay because this can't be the rest of their lives! And Taylor really is her fathers daughter because she sees the way he bloodies his head on that wall and says fuck it all do you one better: this brick wall is going to break or i am! and if i do then i won't be around to care about it! And she's skipping class and spending nights somewhere else, sneaking out and of course he knows about it- of course he knows! What is he going to do though? confront her? and then what? what justification could he possibly have for that? to demand answers from her when she should be the one demanding them from him? he let her go back to the same school that nearly killed her! he let her drown without him when his wife died- didn't notice when emma broke her heart, didn't notice when she stopped loving english class or trusting adults or speaking without thinking 'stupid!' at herself reflexively. or worse- he did notice and chose not to do anything out of cowardice and habit and procrastinating guilt- like his daughters mental health was homework he hasn't handed in. But they both feel better, when they don't have to talk about it- and there's nothing morally wrong with skipping school or dropping out entirely but taylor used to like school but having an actual conversation with her about what exactly is happening in her life is something he takes half a zillion words to work up to and by the time he actually does he has to lock them in a goddamn room together- not because it's a good idea- if he knew more about taylor he'd know its a surefire way to freak her out- but because that's what he needs to talk to her.

and it just...deflates. she leaves and drops out of school and doesn't really talk to him again until brockton bay is like halfway underwater. there's no catharsis with him finding out she's Skitter, its not satisfying, not even in an angsty way- 'luke i am your father' -at least that's properly dramatic! It's just sort of an. oh. okay. fuck.

i dunno. this wasn't going anywhere. i just...man. they'd both kill for each other, i am confident in that much, but both seem to struggle pretty hard with the 'living for each other' part.

#worm #parahumans #taylor hebert #danny hebert #skitter #i dont know what this is...#help

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httpskuzuu · 9 months

Text

Handsome boyfriend

here in spain it's 5 am and I should be sleeping

anyway, here I made the reader's gender expression male, but always remember that you are valid, no matter how masculine or feminine you look 👍

Dazai x Ftm!Reader

English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes

tw: transphobia on the part of parents, gender dysphoria, reader's gender expression male

Dazai was not an idiot, he had noticed from the beginning that you were not comfortable being a cisgender girl.

He noticed from your first interaction, you treated yourself with male pronouns and when Dazai also treated you by those same pronouns you seemed so happy, as if it was the first time someone referred to you correctly.

He didn't mention anything about it, he understood that you were strangers and that if you hadn't told him from the beginning, he wasn't anyone to be nosy.

As your relationship grew, he noticed how you looked at yourself in the mirror with a disgusted expression, how you sometimes did exercises to make your voice more masculine and how in your last Google searches there were things related to the topic of starting a transition as a trans person.

When you started dating, he thought you would talk to him and tell him everything that was on your mind, but you never did. He himself tried to bring up the topic of conversation regarding the trans community, but you always refused to talk about it and seemed uncomfortable, so he didn't push you anymore.

He decided it was best for you to take the first step one day, one day like today.

It was in night, Dazai couldn't sleep because of his insomnia, and you should be at your parents' house.

He saw your number appear on his cell phone screen, he knew from that moment on that something wasn't right. As much as you might have trouble sleeping, you didn't usually stay awake at a late hour like this, let alone call him.

"Hey Belladonna! What are you doing up at this hour, uhm?"

The first thing he heard on the other end was a suppressed sob from you, that's what confirmed that something was wrong.

"Hey, darling, what's wrong?" He used the most reassuring tone she could and hid his concern.

"Uhm, Dazai, can I come to your place...? Please..." It was obvious from your voice that you were crying, so broken and weak, that Dazai was almost heartbroken to hear you.

"What happened? I don't know if you should come, it's too late, something might happen to you, do you want me to come to your place better?"

"No, no, I'm not at home, I, uhm, I know it's late, but I don't have anywhere else to stay."

He was quiet for a moment, thinking about what you had just said, worst case scenarios came to his mind.

"Yeah, sure, you can come" He was going to ask if he could come to where you were and at least walk together, but you quickly mumbled a 'Thank you.' And you hung up.

He just sat there on the futon with his cell phone in his hand, thinking about what the fuck had happened to you.

Within 10 minutes there was a knock on his door and when he opened it he saw you, with wet cheeks and watery eyes, you had a backpack on your back.

Two details of your appearance caught his attention: you were wearing baggy clothes, he could recognize that you were wearing a T-shirt that he himself gave you days ago, it was not usual for you, since you always wore clothes considered "feminine". The other detail was your hair, your long mane was now gone, you wore your hair short and somewhat badly cut, a sign that you probably cut it yourself.

Before you could speak, you dropped on Dazai's figure and hugged him tightly as you cried into his chest.

"Hey, hey, will you tell me what happened?" he tried to reassure you by placing one of his hands on your back and the other on his head, stroking your hair. "You've had a makeover, I see." He said with a smile.

"Dazai, I'm a trans guy, is that okay? Are you still my boyfriend?" He knew you were, but was surprised by your last question: didn't you know he would love you no matter who you are?

"Of course I'll still be your boyfriend, I love you and I don't care what you are as long as you're comfortable. If you're a boy that's perfect, you will still be my handsome boyfriend."

Dazai put his hands on your tearful cheeks and made you separate your face from his chest, so you could look at him. He wiped away your falling tears with his thumbs and gave you a reassuring smile.

You felt the weight on your shoulders disappear. He accepted you, Dazai accepted you, it felt so good to know that. You cried harder.

"Let's go inside, okay? And then we can talk more comfortably."

He moved his hand to your waist and guided you inside his house, to the couch. He sat you there and gave you a kiss on your forehead. "I'll get you some tea, don't move." After that in no time you were alone again.

You wiped your tears as best you could and thought about everything that happened: you had a fight with your parents, they always insisted that you be as feminine as possible, but you couldn't anymore, you weren't comfortable. You decided to cut your hair in a fit of dysphoria and when they saw you they got angry, you tried to explain and tell them the truth about your gender, but as soon as they heard you the house became a place full of screams, and finally they threw you out of the house, saying they never wanted to see you again. Your parents themselves rejected you, that was so painful, how could they reject the person they share blood with just because of their gender identity? You didn't understand.

A hand on your shoulder brought you out of your thoughts, there stood Dazai, a worried expression implanted on his face, but as soon as he saw you snap out of your trance he smiled at you. "Ah, you got a little lost in your thoughts, didn't you?" Dazai passed the cup of tea to your hands and you thanked him with a trembling voice.

You took a few sips of the tea as you tried to relax and set it down on the table.

He sat down next to you and put his arm around your shoulders. "Well, will you tell me what happened?"

You let out a sigh and prepared to speak. "My parents always wanted a girly girl and I tried to be one, tried to make them happy, but-" And just like that you cried again. Dazai stayed by your side, giving you support and comfort, it was nice to have your boyfriend by your side. "I couldn't hide this anymore, I wasn't happy.... When they saw me with my hair like that and telling them I was a boy they kicked me out of the house."

You snuggled weakly against Dazai's chest, you were so tired. You really needed this hug.

"Please, Belladonna, don't listen to whatever they said. If they don't let you be happy just the way you are, it's best to stay away from them" You closed your eyes and melted at his words, he was right, he was always right. "You can stay with me as long as you wish, my house is always open for you."

Dazai moved closer to your face and started leaving kisses all over, you laughed through your tears, it did tickle a little. He stopped, and you stared at each other for a few moments until he moved closer and kissed your lips.

"Let's go to sleep, is that okay?" you nodded and let Dazai guide you to the futon where he slept. Dazai always kept one of his hands on your waist, encircling you and giving you comfort.

He helped you lie down on the futon and sat next to you, not lying down yet. He stroked your hair, and you just closed your eyes, relaxing in Dazai's presence.

You finally accepted yourself, and Dazai also accepted you, that was enough to make you feel happy.

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd dazai #dazai #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #ftm reader #male reader

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perpetual-fandom-brainrot · 2 months

Text

DRABBLES

I'm so sorry I died. I am planning to continue this, I just have to figure out where it's going. In the meantime HAVE SOME DRABBLES! (only the first one is a hybrid drabble) (I was trying not to focus on anyone and it ended up being mainly Ghost related)

I've been reading more hybrid reader fics lately, and I cannot stop thinking about the idea of a bunny hybrid reader who isn't just all timid/shy around everyone like I see in a lot of fics. All of the other bunnies treaded lightly when they got on base to avoid trouble, but not you. When you arrive on base, Ghost ofc tries to intimidate you. You don't stumble or falter, though. You hold his gaze, glaring back at him until Price has to order you both to stop. Within the first week, you're in Price's office for practicing parkour in the halls on your way to the gym. In your defense, no one else was in those hallways, and you didn't notice the cameras until then. The first time you spar with the other bunnies, you lose. They all look at you intently, waiting for some kind of response; however, you getting up with a proud smile doesn't seem to be what they were waiting for. The first time tf 141 realizes you aren't to be fucked with is the only time anyone ever steals your food. Soap jokingly picks some food off of your plate, only to be tackled to the floor and pinned down by you. No one even looks at your plate for the rest of that meal break. Tf 141 really starts to appreciate you after the first mission they bring you on. Your muscular advantage is concentrated in your legs, enabling you to use trees, buildings, and other tall structures to your advantage. You can completely disappear as long as you stay silent, and disappear you do. You and 141 are able to ambush an ambush team and take out multiple enemies before they know you're there. After that, they start taking you with them whenever you're not needed elsewhere and incorporating you into their group more.

I also can't stop thinking about a situation where newbie reader is used to glaring matches and just doesn't tolerate Ghost's bullshit. Like you get there on base and expect to settle in, meet the team, etcetera. You were hand-picked to help out with some critical missions coming up and you're... not excited, but definitely proud to be expanding your experience. You're definitely excited to make more friends to protect. When you land, Price and the team are all waiting for you. They all run through introductions with a name, rank, and some opt to say how long they've been serving. You run through the same information about yourself, making small talk with Gaz, Soap, and Roach when Price walks off. Ghost's silent stare doesn't escape you amidst it all. He barely seems to want to be near you. So, mid-conversation with the boys, you turn to face his direction and stare back at him. You can't tell what expression he has under his mask, but you're sure it's not a welcoming one, so you do your best to mirror it. You even tilt your head in Soap's direction to ask if "the statue" does this a lot. Tension rises instantly. None of you are holding weapons, yet you feel as though all of you have sniper lasers trained on your heads. Soap, probably making the smarter decision, opts not to involve himself. "Yeah, I do this a lot. What's it matter to you?" Ghost finally breaks the quiet. "Well, I just figure a statue is usually made of stone," you start, before dropping your voice to a deadpan, "and can't stare at you like you should be dead just because they did." "I don't have time for this. Soap, Roach, with me in the sparring room. Gaz, show the newbie around. Bring her to us after." You don't stop calling Ghost 'Statue' after that, mostly because you can tell it makes his blood boil as much as he tries hiding it. Price constantly has to tell the two of you to stop bickering before he reports to his own higher-ups about it. Everyone notices how much harsher Ghost Statue is on you when he's left in charge by Price, and how much harsher he tries to be when he's not. Needless to say, the two of you do not get along. It's when you start rubbing off on Soap that Ghost Statue really, really starts hating you. It's an accidental slip of the tongue, the first time Soap calls him Statue directly to his face. The glare isn't given to him though, it's given to you, and ten times worse than you've ever gotten it. Needless to say, you get a lecture in Price's office the next morning, and you stop calling Ghost by the wrong name if he can hear you. You just have to find other ways to irritate him.

This last one is kind of inspired by Riley. Simon can't hate dogs because he would hate Riley if he did. However, I can imagine Simon disliking cats. Generally, he avoids being around them if he can, but he's typically okay being in the same room. Until he meets the cat you and Soap decided to adopt (Soap, of course, knowing Simon doesn't like cats, and you being oblivious to this fact). This cat is still small enough that it sees a big tall thing and thinks climb. Soap constantly has this cat on his shoulder or, for some reason, laying on top of his mohawk. So the first time Simon walks in, this cat jumps down from where he is on Soap to make an approach. First comes the leg rubs, then comes the testing of the pants. When Simon tries to pick this cat off of his pants, the cat instead clings to his sleeve, and climbs up to his shoulder anyway. That day is the most annoyed you've ever seen Simon "Ghost" Riley. But then he turns into one of those cat dad situations. He does his best to avoid this cat when he can, but ends up not succeeding, and the cat slowly grows on him. He still claims to hell and back he would never get a cat of his own, no matter how much time he spends with your furry friend.

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swap-and-possessions · 1 year

Text

All the Good Luck in the World

Commissioned by: @valagon37

I don’t know how. I do not understand why. I have a lot of questions that remain unanswered. As they stay that way, I attribute them to luck. I must have used all the good luck in the world so I could achieve what I am experiencing right now. And that is becoming one hell of a good-looking Asian hunk. Not just any Asian hunk, but the one and only Lee-Seok Jun. I still have a lot of questions, but at least I can answer the questions of where did it start?

In this day and age, many stories start on the Internet, just like this one. It was a usual evening in my room, surfing across Discord for a nice place to find a conversation that would entertain me. On one such server, I found this guy who referred to himself as ‘June’. He says he’s from Korea, and he would like to practice his English writing skills with an American. The server is pretty much dead so nobody paid any attention to his message. Seeing that as good entertainment, and a way to quench my curiosity about how different Koreans live when compared to me, I dove right in and said ‘hello’.

We hit it off from there. June’s English was horrendous at first, but he improved with each passing day. He loved it when I told him stories about my life over here. He’s even gushing over the mundane things I usually take for granted. For instance, I can eat whatever I want due to my well-paying job. I can take myself outside for steak by dinner and have a tub of ice cream for a late-night snack. He said his job restricts him from such freedom. When I asked him what his job was, he did not say.

As the days went on, I began noticing strange things about myself. I’m changing gradually. First, the problems started with my speech. While I’m proud that June is improving his English, I began to notice the worsening of mine. I was slurring, and I found it hard to pronounce several words that I didn’t have problems with before. I now spend longer amounts of time before I can reply to a proper message to June. But that’s not the only strange thing. I was eating in a Korean diner the other day, and I swear, I understood what the cook was saying to his idiotic son. He was scolding him for the wrong preparation of the kimchi.

After the changes to my speech, the change soon took a turn for my appearance. My hair turned black, and my skin is becoming paler than usual. My muscles feel sore. Not the kind of sore that I usually feel after a long day of using the computer. It’s the kind of sore I feel whenever I lift heavy objects or that time I tried to exercise. And from the sores in my stomach, I was initially distraught when I saw these six dense bumps. Slowly, it dawned on me that those were abs. Real fucking abs! It’s impossible. The closest thing I did to exercise was walk to my work. From there, thick and brimming trained musculature popped everywhere in my body. I visited a doctor to see if anything was wrong with me. They did some tests, and it all came out as normal. What struck me though, is that the nurse marked me as Asian for my race, rather than a Caucasian. It’s strange because nobody in my life mistook me for another race.

Then one day, I popped into the mirror and saw a reflection that wasn’t me. I- It’s someone else! Instead of panicking now that my original identity is gone, there is joy inside me. It was a sly smirk at first, that soon formed into a full grin. Why the hell should I be complaining when I have this magnificent body? I should call myself lucky for having this set of muscles and a handsome mug. However, one question hangs in my mind. Why the hell did this happen? If there’s anyone that knows, it’s June. The change started when I first talked to him, so he must know something about this. And besides, he’s the only Korean that I know of.

I contacted him in Discord. Instead of the usual text reply, he invited me to a video call. It’s the first time he did that. When I entered the video chat, instead of a Korean on the other end, it was a Caucasian guy. And not just any Caucasian. It’s me! The original me! He has a smile on his face, the very same smile I had earlier. He’s sweating and naked and has probably explored my body already.

“Ju- June? That you?”

“Of course, it’s me. I know you’re angry. But please, understand. This is the only way to escape my life here in Korea.”

“Angry? Dude, I am happy!” I wanted to say something more expressive than happy, but the English was lost to me. It took me a few more seconds when I remembered the word ‘elated’. “Also, what is your meaning when you say you want to escape?”

“You see, I’m a famous model slash actor here in Korea. I doubt you’ve heard the stories about how agencies handle people like me. They control our schedule, our diet, everything! I am sick and tired of it. The only reason why I got to talk to you is that I bought a burner phone. I can video call you now since I’ve escaped temporarily now that I’m you.”

“I mean. All is okay now, right?”

“I wish I could say that,” June frowned. “Sorry.”

June ended the video call, and he does not answer any further calls I send to him. If he does not want to be bothered, that leaves me with more time to explore his body which he threw easily away. I stepped back to the mirror and admired my statuesque body worthy of salivation.

Good fucking heavens! My biceps are gigantic. They’re hard when I flex them, and firm whenever I stretch my arm out. I could lift several objects that I was struggling with before. And my pectorals. Good lord. They’re like women’s breasts given how large they are. I can practically grab them with my entire hand and squeeze them. Then there comes my face. I’m so cute and fair, which serves as a nice contrast to my ripped body. I can’t fathom why I didn’t realize how much my body had changed in a couple of days. I guess it was so gradual that I didn’t notice.

As I walked about, I noticed something shifting in my groin. Unlike the rest, it hasn’t changed since this morning. But to my surprise when I pulled down my underwear, a raging beast of massive proportions popped out. I guess the stereotypes were wrong, after all. I plopped on my bed where I began ruminating on my angle of attack regarding the monster that is my groin. I grabbed the shaft and felt thunderous echoes ebb on my body. Not only was my dick large, but it was also sensitive. I guess June hasn’t used this package much with such stingy managers in his agency. I pulled my shaft, and my cute pink head slipped out. I could see the precum foaming at the tip, which washed down when I pulled the skin upward.

Slowly and firmly, I jerked my dick. Moans bubbled from my lips as my mind was lost to the pleasure. How could June just throw this body like it was nothing!? He’s lucky to have this, and now I’m lucky to have it. The stars of the Universe must have aligned so that I could become Lee-Seok Jun. Wait… How did I know June’s real name?

I sped up the movements of my hand. One hand now searches clumsily for my asshole. I found it seconds later, and I prodded inside for the prostate. Gah! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I know this body is sensitive, but I didn’t realize that it could get a lot more than that. I screamed when I found that sweet spot inside my ass and my hips jerked toward the ceiling. My balls squirmed and tightened. It’s like an explosion. There’s that momentary silence in the implosion, before the destructive aftermath of flying debris and supersonic waves. That explosion happened in both my mind and my dick. Thick hot cum spurred from the shaft and into the world beyond. Many lobules splattered on my chest, but some had found their way to the floor.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” I half-moaned and half-screamed. My heart is in a stampede, and my head was wrecked with a flood of unimaginable pleasures. My body is alive and breathing. Sweat patterned all over my skin, and they moved with every heave of my humongous chest. I blink one moment to see that I am in the bed in my room. I blink in another and I find myself in a familiar yet strange location. I’m in my room, back in Korea.

Wait, I don’t have a room in Korea? Wha- I- I don’t understand. When the pleasures subsided, the answers to my prior questions finally returned to my head. After seeing his life wasted in Korean show business, Lee-Seok Jun turned to mysticism for a solution. He found a body swap spell, and he found me as the prime fool who fell for his trap. At least, that’s what he saw. This is not a trap in my eyes. It’s a lucky blessing! Cumming when our bodies are swapped sealed the deal permanently. I don’t mind the strict schedule and diet if I was to stay in this body.

The door to my new bedroom opened. It’s my friend and manager, Ji-woo.

“Where the hell have you been these past few hours!?” Ji-woo said in perfect Korean. I tried to hide my still-dripping dick with my sheets. Ji-woo just stared at me and laughed. “Finally, you’re enjoying that body of yours. People would kill themselves just to be like you. So, dress up. You have an underwear photoshoot in an hour.”

“예 (Yes),” I said back.

----------------------------------------- Once again, thank you to @Valagon37 for this commission. I've exceeded the 500-word limit for the commission because of how sexy the prompt is.

#Transformation #Male Transformation #Male Body Transformation #Body Transformation #Body Swap #Body Switch #Male Body Swap #Male Body Switch #Race Change #Racial Change #Male Race Change #Male Racial Change #Male to Male Transformatio #Commission #Gradual Transformation #Male Gradual Transformation

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 1 month

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Hello! I have been a long time fan of your work but finally got the courage to send a request. Could your write headcannons/scenario or whatever you like about about Nozel who has a crush on reader and reader really likes him back but she compares herself to Acier and doesn't think she is good enough for him and house Silva. Nozel thinks she does not return his feelings until he figures it out or finds out how she feels from someone else. I think it will be really sweet to see Nozel overcome his insecurities and comfort reader's as well.

Hiya~! ^^

I have seen you regularly in my notes, and am glad to hear that you've been enjoying my work. I know I took more than my sweet time with this, but I hope that you enjoy it nonetheless ^^

Pairing: Nozel Silva x f!reader

Genre: Hurt-comfort

Fanfic type: Oneshot (from Nozel's and reader's pov)

Length: ~2,0k

Content: Themes of self-doubt (on both reader's and Nozel's part), some crying, Nozel being hesitant, well, Nozel being Nozel (does that count?? he's not exactly the best when it comes to comforting, but he tries!), Nozel comforts reader, semi-open ending (future of the relationship isn't properly established), but still, a happy ending, a hug with Nozel

Nozel sat by his desk, late at night, accompanied by nothing else than the candle on his desk. Its flame vibrated with each breath he made, not that he noticed it. The flutter and the dance of the source of light that, no matter how small and tender, was as if alive, and cast its light onto the desk and the room.

But his eyes did not see it. His senses paid no mind to it as his mind was engulfed into other things. The events of the day. Which... did not make sense.

Or they did, and they didn’t.

For quite some time he had known that most women in the kingdom would pledge themselves to him, as his partner, if he only mentioned it. Not because they loved him, but because of his status. And wealth.

There was a sickening aftertaste to the thought, but... it was a fact. Most would gladly welcome his advances just because of... who he was, on paper; the merits, the name, and the titles. Not because of who he was as a person. Which was why he had never before pursued anyone. He simply couldn’t have trusted most with their genuine emotions when it came to himself.

Until he had met you.

He was sure that you weren’t untruthful with your interactions, conversations, smiles and laughs with him. Oh no. You were being honest with him.

Your strength, your grace, and your... entire being... were genuine. Which was one of the reasons, or so he presumed, why he had fallen in love with you.

After much deliberation, he was sure, and had admitted it to himself, that he did, in fact, love you. And thus, he had sent the flowers, along with a card, as a setting for asking you to accompany him to a restaurant on the following day, for dinner.

But... Well, he hadn’t been sure of... what to expect. He had hoped that you’d accept. He had hoped that you’d... maybe look surprised at first, but that you would have accepted.

But you didn’t.

You had told him that unfortunately you were busy. That your schedule was quite packed.

The conversation had been brief, but he could recognize excuses when he heard them.

And so, he took the hint.

You weren’t interested in him.

And so... he found himself wondering, if he really was that unlovable. Which would be his own doing, not yours, of course but...

He couldn’t shake the thoughts, and the nagging feeling of ... loneliness.

And I dared to... hope that she’d... he managed to think before closing his eyes, and letting a heavy breath flow past his lips.

Perhaps it’d be better to not dwell on those emotions, for the night. He still had a lot of work to complete.

----

The ceiling of your bedroom was dark, lit only by the faint glow of the silver moon and the stars outside of your bedroom. The air was still, but light. And no sound disturbed the moment, the room and the space which seemed untouched by even time itself.

And in that room, you wondered about what... what he might see in you.

Sure, you seemed to have a lot easier time conversing with him than most, you were not blind to the fact. And you did care for him. You really, really did.

Your heart ached for him in a way that you couldn’t explain, which was why, when he had asked, it had felt as if your body was screaming for you to accept the request. Accept a dream come true; a dream that you hadn’t really even dared to hope.

But... another thought, though spoken with a much more quiet tone from the back of your head, which seemed to whisper: ‘Will you be good enough? Are you sure that you’re good enough?’

And... was someone really good enough to marry into a family that was still known for someone like Acier Silva?

She had been strong, beautiful and gentle. She had been someone that was still known to be the grace and gem of the House of Silva. Someone who wasn’t weak, no matter how you chose to see it.

But you... when you started to think about it, list every insecurity you had... Well... Could you really follow in the footsteps of someone like her?

Not many could but... maybe someone might.

However, that someone... wasn’t you. You were far away from the pristine knight and woman that had been Acier. It was clear as day to you.

And so... you had to wonder what exactly Nozel had seen in you.

But whatever it was, was a fallacy. You were convinced of it.

So... no matter how much your heart wept at the moment, of which spoke the glistening tears that climbed into your eyes, it had been your ... responsibility to... not lead him into thinking that you might be something more than... whatever it was that he thought you to be.

No matter how painful it might have been... you felt that you... owed it. To someone. Maybe yourself. To shield yourself from first daring to hope that you might be enough for him, and then... only find yourself getting your heart broken. So, it was better to just... deal with the pain, now, than some time in the future.

Which was why you rolled onto your side, in your bed, and squeezed your eyes shut as a quiet sob broke past your lips.

---

“I heard that you asked someone out for a date,” Nebra had commented during afternoon tea before Solid had arrived.

Nozel glanced at her from the corner of his eye without a reply. This was not something that he wanted to discuss, with anyone. And no matter what might have been Nebra’s intentions, he couldn’t be sure that she’d be... exactly pleasant about it.

“And I hear that you were turned down,” she continued, making Nozel put down his tea cup.

She was getting a little bold with this conversation. Which was... somewhat uncalled for, because Nebra did respect him. Or so he had thought, until this moment.

But still, he said nothing. Hoping that she would take the hint of him not wanting to discuss the matter any further. It was hurtful enough without whatever comment she might have.

“But I also hear that... she’s pretty heartbroken,” she thought out loud while putting down her own teacup and picking up a tiny sandwich from a plate.

He frowned, quite visibly. Because that statement didn’t make sense. After all, you had been the one to turn him down, not the other way around. So... it didn’t... it just didn’t make sense. Unless it would have been some ... ploy to coax attention, which... was very unlike you.

“Oh?” He only uttered, trying to sound as collected as possible. And for that purpose, a mere utterance such as that was the best.

Nebra let out a hum of confirmation. “Something about not living up to our mother’s legacy,” she shrugged. “Just something I overheard,” she added before taking a bite of the delicacy.

“Hm,” he uttered again, confused, saddened, annoyed, and happy, at the same time. The jumble of emotions inside of him seemed to twist and turn in a way that he wasn’t sure... what he’d make of it.

But one thing he did know was that he needed to talk to you.

---

“We need to talk.”

That had been what he had stated to you.

There had been a sense of urgency in his tone. Along with a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t quite name. And yet... there was an essence of something that you didn’t think that you’d hear from the great, proud, Nozel Silva: a plea.

So, you nodded. Just nodded. And let him escort you to the side, where he looked at you for the longest time, as if he wasn’t sure from where to begin.

He wasn’t sure, but still, he needed to begin from somewhere.

“I was told...” he begun, and cleared his throat. “That... you... turned down my previous... suggestion on the accounts of you not... living up to the memory of my mother.”

There was something rather... ludicrous to it when he said it out loud. But... that was what you thought. That you’d never be good enough for him.

“And I’m...” he uttered, stopping there, not sure how to continue that thought. Maybe because he didn’t know where to go from there.

You wouldn’t really have known where to go from there either.

So, instead, you continued with your thought. “I’d never be good enough for you,” you stated. As if a fact.

“So you decided for me, what I deem good enough for myself?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

And while it wasn’t an uncalled for question to ask, it didn’t exactly make you feel better.

But... you also didn’t have a reply to the question. Because... that was what you had done. You had decided, for both of you, that you weren’t enough for him.

“Look...” he started as his eyes fell to the side, and a faintest of blushes decorated his cheeks. “You are... the first person who... I met, that wouldn’t... if so chosen, be with me for my status and wealth alone,” his tone was quiet, and apprehensive, as if he was scared of speaking out the words. “And that takes... strength,” the latter word, was confident.

His gaze lifted to yours, which only spoke of his certainty. He was being honest with his thoughts.

“It takes a backbone,” he emphasized. “And... you have the kind of grace that would be... Sometimes being a knight isn’t graceful. But even in those moments, it is of upmost importance to carry oneself with dignity.” He sounded more like he was speaking out of a place of work.

But it carried forth the sentiment.

“I have seen that grace, and dignity, in you,” he added. “And you’re also kind... gentle and beautiful,” his eyes averted again. “You are smart and capable.”

Whatever hesitance that was in his tone, wasn’t because of words spoken out of malice, but out of laying his emotions bare; out in the open.

“And... while I can see why someone with such qualities wouldn’t-“ he paused. The confidence in his words, seemed to halt in place, as if hit a wall, during the brief silence that appeared between the two of you. “Deem someone as... insistent as.... myself I...” he trailed off, cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I can’t imagine why such a person wouldn’t deem themselves fit for the House of Silva.”

His gaze lifted again, and looked at you with the most earnest of expressions.

But you didn’t have words to give him.

What words could you have given, after a testimony such as that? Especially when it came from a man, who was distant, most of the time; a man who seemed to show no emotions. And yet, now he was there, with you, telling you just how much he thought of you. In a way that he could.

You took a step forward, and wrapped your arms around him middle, sinking your nose into the fluff of his cape, which smelled like rose water and bergamot.

His body tensed with your touch. But he didn’t move away. Not as much as lean away from your touch.

Instead, after what must’ve been only a few breaths, he leaned in, wrapping his arms around you, as a reply.

“It is not you, who is unworthy,” he whispered, right next to your ear.

And in that whisper, you could feel his emotions, the gentle nothings that his heart wished to utter. The very presence of his soul, even if only as a hushed tone, barely a whisper.

Where might all this lead, was still hidden from you. But... wherever that might have been, the destination of the road, on which you were stepping, together, you were certain that would be better, than the road left un-ventured.

#nozel silva x reader #nozel x reader #black clover fanfiction #black clover oneshot #black clover x reader #black clover x you

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cilil · 7 days

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐬 | 𝐍𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬

𓄌 Characters/pairings: Caranthir & Fëanor, hints at potential Caranthir x Turgon 𓄌 Synopsis: Fëanor offers to craft accessories for his sons to wear at the next Feast of Horns. Caranthir has what he believes to be an unusual request. 𓄌 Warnings: / 𓄌 Oneshot (~1.2k words) | AO3

Carnistir had both dreaded and looked forward to this moment, though the former outweighed the latter.

His father had announced that he would be crafting accessories for all of his sons for the next Feast of Horns, celebrating that the entire family would be in attendance for the first time, and promised that each of them could pick whatever they wanted and he would make it.

For most, if not all of his brothers, it was an easy choice and they knew exactly what they wanted, or so Carnistir believed at least, but for him, it was more difficult. Not the choice itself, if he was honest with himself — he had an idea what he wanted — but he grappled with it regardless and disliked the idea of having to explain himself to his father.

It wasn't Carnistir's first time participating in the Hunt. His brothers had dragged him along once before, with Tyelkormo in particular claiming that he couldn't miss it, and as was tradition for debutants, he had been among the Hunted. The greater battle had been with himself rather than the Hunters, finding himself strangely enchanted by the idea of being desired and pursued, while unable to admit it to anyone else and acting aloof to hide his inner turmoil.

In the end Carnistir had successfully hidden in the woods of Oromë — no small feat as he liked to think, especially with Ainur participating in the Hunt as well — and rejoined his brothers at the end of the night. Nobody had bothered to inquire about his whereabouts after his declaration that everything had gone well, and he preferred it that way. Even so, the aftermath had left him with a sour taste in his mouth, his mind ever wandering to all the possibilities he had denied himself out of pride, shame and, as much as he hated to admit it, cowardice.

But this Feast of Horns would be different. Carnistir had promised himself that it would.

And then he had also learned that Turukáno would be a Hunter.

I could hunt as well. Maybe alongside him, if he agrees to it.

Though perhaps I should be hunted instead to rectify my mistake. Any other choice would only be further cowardice.

Turukáno could hunt me. I think I would like it if he did.

But why would he? Especially if Findaráto joins in as well. And he most likely will.

Such was the back and forth between the two warring forces in Carnistir's mind, unfulfilled desire raging against what he believed was his better judgement, yet his perceived lack of courage and bravery was what eventually tipped the scales in favour of the former. He was a son of Fëanáro after all, he couldn't hide in a corner while his brothers participated in the Hunt.

Even so, choosing the Hunted meant that he would have to ask his father for a necklace or even a collar instead of horns or antlers, and Carnistir dreaded having such a conversation.

Thus he made his way to Fëanáro's forge reluctantly when Nerdanel told him that it was his turn. He announced himself with a short, sharp knock and entered in tandem with his father's invitation to come in.

Fëanáro was sitting at his workbench and bent over an elaborate sketch he was working on. A quick look confirmed that it was most likely Tyelkormo's gift, and Carnistir tried not to let his mien sour too much. Of course he's still busy with someone else.

"Ah, Moryo," his father greeted him and looked up with a smile. "Do you already know what you would like or do you want to take a few more minutes to think?"

"I am ready," Carnistir replied curtly. It hadn't escaped his notice that Fëanáro appeared to be in good spirits, and he was about to ruin it all; but it was too late for second guessing himself. A plan of action had been made, and he would stick to it, come what may.

"Very well. What are your ideas?" Fëanáro asked and finally reached for an empty sheet of paper to place on top of the sketch, ready to take notes.

"I want a collar and I don't want gold."

Silence fell between them for a brief moment.

"So you wish to join the Hunted?"

"Yes." Carnistir pressed his lips together, ready to defend his choice, but his father took notes without further inquiry.

"Do you know which materials you want instead if gold is not to your liking?" he then asked conversationally.

Carnistir gave a light shrug. He had thought of everything, every complaint or counterargument that might be brought against him for making what could be considered a strange choice for a Noldorin prince, but not the gift itself.

"Something practical," he said eventually.

Fëanáro smiled. "I hope you will allow me to craft a silver one then. I think it would look lovely on you."

"Fine by me."

More notes were added.

"And what kind of details and ornaments do you want? Maybe some jewels or gemstones?"

Another shrug. "Plain."

"You know you can choose freely, Moryo?"

"Yes." Picking up on the hint, Carnistir thought about it again. "Lots of people have little charms attached to their collars, like antlers or spear-tips or arrowheads. I think I would like that too."

"Anything in particular?"

"A dagger." Inspiration came spontaneously, but for once Carnistir allowed himself not to overthink it.

"And what about the gems?"

"No gems. They sparkle too much."

Fëanáro grinned at him. "Ah, I see. You don't want to make it too easy for the Hunters to spot you."

"Of course not."

"And you are right. A favour from one of the princes of the Noldor should not be won too easily after all." He wrote down more notes. "Anything else?"

"No." Carnistir paused for a moment, then added, "I leave the rest to you, Father."

"I shan't disappoint. If you like, you can have a look at my sketch in a few days — I will take some time to think about it."

He nodded. "Thank you."

They fell silent again, but no further words were needed. An unspoken understanding that the conversation had concluded hung between them, and Carnistir turned to leave.

On his way out, he spotted another sketch at the very edge of the workbench, slightly crumpled as if it had been hastily swept aside in favour of Fëanáro's tools and the other notes and sketches he had made. To his surprise, this one depicted a collar as well, not too dissimilar from what he had asked for and imagined for himself.

Unable to resist, he stopped and pointed at the sketch. "Someone else is joining the Hunted as well?"

Fëanáro looked up to meet his inquisitive gaze, and his eyes sparkled with the same sort of mischief Carnistir would normally see in Tyelkormo and the Ambarussar.

"That one is for me," he said, lips twitching as if he had to suppress a bout of laughter when he saw his son's shocked expression.

Carnistir left the forge without another word, his cheeks flushing bright red. He needed a moment to process what he had just learned, only to decide that he neither needed nor wanted to know the implications of Fëanáro's words regarding his parents' relationship.

Well, he thought to himself, if I was wrong about Father, maybe I was wrong about Turukáno as well and he may hunt me after all.

taglist: @blauerregen @elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @saintstars @urwendii

#feastofhorns #caranthir #carnistir #feanor #fëanor #silmarillion #oneshot #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #cílil writes #my writing #again sorry i'm late

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barbatoss-teabag-leaves · 2 years

Text

Obey Me elder brothers as romantic tropes

Obey me x gn!reader NOT PROOFREAD

Total words combined: 1878

I kind of went all out on Levi’s but I’m extremely excited to share this piece.

Lucifer [521] -enemies to lovers

You have been getting on Lucifer's nerves since the day you arrived at the Devildom. At first the idea of a human living in his space got on his nerves, but as be grew to know you his stubborn mind did everything to persuade himself to always despise you. You were on the list of things that he saw as the bane of his existence. He would try to avoid you, when he interacted with you he treated you like shit. Eventually you had evidently had enough when you started guarding your heart around him much harder than around anyone else and giving much shorter, vague answers to any of his questions over time. If he asked “where are you going?” you would say, “out.” You too did limit your interactions between the two of you by only talking to him when needed and clenching your teeth to keep you from screaming whenever he discarded your presence. To you he was a rude old man with his panties in a twist. You feared him at first which was only natural, slowly that fear morphed into irritation. Still, you were kind. You were always kind. Whenever you noticed him being more exhausted than usual you would do small gestures without letting him know it’s from you. He put it together after the first few times and suddenly you were on his mind more than he’d ever want to admit. You noticed that his eyes looked so desperate for sleep and the build up of sorrow from the centuries hidden beneath his mask. The most recent time you did something for him was when you looked at him and his deep red eyes were begging for help. You placed a cup of tea on his office desk on the way to your awaiting bed while he was in the common room to discuss a matter regarding a planner dinner for the nobles of RAD with Asmo. He had conflicting emotions to see the cup but he knew you did it. He always knew it was you. His first reaction would always be to question if you had an ulterior motive but you did it wordlessly, never acknowledging the gestures. Once he was finished with his work for the night he sighed and went to your room to ask you the meaning of the tea as he’s been wondering for months. You were soundly asleep as it was somewhere around 01:30 am. He peaked his head into your room to discover that you’ve fallen asleep with your head on top of your potions handbook. He doesn’t know why he did it almost naturally but he carefully lifted you from your chair and gently laid you down on your bed. You’ve stirred him in a new way. His feelings of annoyance slowly developing into a foreign emotion he was scared to discover. You weren’t fond of him and he knew that. So why? Why were you so kind a o him? He didn’t deserve it from you and he knew that. He had to make things right with you. Lucifer set the goal for himself to slowly morph your feelings of annoyance into something much sweeter, too.

Mammon [501]

-soulmates.

You and Mammon have been attached at the hip since shortly after you arrived at the Devildom. Wherever you were he would be found and vice versa. Sure, he feigned annoyance to hide his feelings but you knew. He knew. Everyone knew. The two of you are made for each other- two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into one another. Everything was always so easy with him, it was easy to fall in love with Mammon. Your late night conversations were easy. Confiding in each other was easy. Making the most out of horrendous situations was easy. Heck, even getting in trouble together was easy. The two of you had flaws- as everyone does. Some may say loving someone is being able to look past the flaws, but what made the two of you so strong is that you acknowledged the other’s flaws and loved each other unconditionally. You chose to love his flaws and he chose to love yours. The choice happened subconsciously, it was as easy and as natural as breathing. He would defend you and protect you till he had no breath left in his lungs and you would protect his heart even if yours was ripped out in the process. The protectiveness you had over him had been proven when he needed you most. As a few witches were berating him and trying to catch up to him- wanting to take him away in order to cover his debt. You spoke without even thinking as though it was your heart speaking and your mouth only being an instrument. “You have no right to take him. He belongs to me and I belong to him. He’s my first demon, my first love and my boyfriend and I will not allow you to any harm to him. Do I make myself clear? You better run along before I get Lord Diavolo involved.” The witches scattered leaving you with a speechless Mammon. As was sat on the ground, you crouched down holding his face in his hand. “Are you alright Mams?” His expression was difficult to read, but his eyes told the truth. He loved you more than he ever thought was possible for a demon to. His hands were shaky as they reached to wrap around your waist, “I really thought I did it this time.” You pressed your forehead to his, your thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones. “I’ll always do everything in my power to protect you.” “I’m the one who’s supposed to be protecting ya.” He moved to hide his face in the crook of your neck and you carded your fingers through his hair. “We’ll protect each other, how about that?” He exhales a breathy chuckle against your shoulder, “What did I ever do to deserve you?” “Let’s go home, Mammon.” “I am home. Home is wherever ya are.” You are the cure Mammon’s been waiting for over the centuries, the salve on his wounded heart. He dare say, his saving grace deep he found deep inside hell.

Leviathan [856]

-Fake relationship/friends to lovers

Levi is your best friend. You can rely on him for anything and everything, he would get you the moon if you asked him to. That’s why you immediately turned to him for help. There’s a demon in one of your classes who has been bothering for quite some time now and he won’t listen to you when you say that you just aren’t interested. That’s why when you were walking with Levi you opened up to him and ask for an idea on how to get him to leave you alone. Levi felt anger built towards the asshole who was making you feel uncomfortable and blurted out, “Well if I was your boyfriend he would leave you alone! I would make damn sure of it.” You gasped before he could save himself, “Levi that’s brilliant! You can pretend to be my boyfriend to scare him off.” Red overtook his face, neck and ears while he processed what you just said his brain highlighted the words ‘you’ and ‘my boyfriend’ and he only responded after a minute. “Of course that’s what I meant!” As the weeks went by Levi stayed by your side everywhere you went. Even behind the walls of the HOL Levi would accompany you, he would lean against the door frame with his hands in his pockets while you were making tea in the kitchen, he would go do his homework in your room instead of yours. “Well we have to be convincing, which means we’ve got to do c-couply things. We’ve got to practice otherwise we’ll look like normies.” Was always his excuse, with a red face and shaky hands he would reach out to hold onto yours. Levi was falling even harder for you, the dream he’s created of being with you was just being fuelled even if it wasn’t officially real. When the demon who has been bothering you walked past you Levi’s protectiveness kicked in and he almost naturally pulled you into him and gave you a passionate kiss. The demon eventually got the message as you melted into Levi, your arms wrapping around his neck, deepening the kiss. Nothing about that kiss felt pretend, it felt real, the warmth of his cracked lips, the graze of his nose against yours, the smoothness of his fingers grasping your cheek. The explosion of adoration that bloomed in your stomach that led you to smile felt especially real. You pulled away to breathe and he hid his face inside the crook of your neck, “that normie won’t mess with you anymore.” You worried. Levi worried. You both worried. What would be the point of acting as a couple if the original reason was no more? You walked home in a tension filled silence that day. Little did you know that his heart longed to protect yours, his soul longed to become one with yours. He longed to be yours. The two of you both retreated to your own separate rooms with few words that night. You laid restlessly in your bed, continuously tossing and turning. Levi played with half attention into the wee hours of the night. You just could not take it anymore, you had to talk to him. You sat up in your bed with your legs thrown over the side, your head in your hands as you slipped your slippers on your feet. How you were going to address is you weren’t sure, but knowing your best friend you were certain you were going to have to be the one to speak up. You trudged down the hall and knocked on his door when you saw the colours of his computer shine through beneath the door, with a small voice you spoke up “Levi? It’s MC, I know you’re awake so please open the door.” You heard some shuffling and soon saw a wide eyed Levi. He stepped aside and gestured for you to come in with a closed lip smile, hes still still your best friend. He sat cross legged on the block next to his bathtub bed and he pulled his gaming chair closer to be able to face you. “So about that kiss-” he whined and ran his fingers through his hair, “I’m so sorry MC, that was too intense for a fake relationship- you probably regret choosing a yucky otaku like me to be your fake boyfriend.” You wore a soft expression “Maybe I do regret it.” “I knew it.” He said while looking down,

“I regret only having you as a fake boyfriend when I should have asked you to be my real boyfriend from the start. The titles may have been fake, but everything you made me feel was real. It still is real. Please look at me and tell me you feel the same because I know you do. Nothing about that kiss was pretend and we both know it.” To say he was shocked would be an understatement. “MC does that mean you’re asking me to b-be your real boyfriend?” You nodded and he looked at you as though you created the universe. Your best friend is now your lover, too.

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me swd #obey me!#obey me brothers #obey me x reader #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me leviathan #obeyme mammon #obey me mammon x reader

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