lay-z · 8 hours
late night talks | s. 'ghost' riley
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Summary: Soap and you are on watch, minding your business, unaware that someone else is kind of...sort of...eavesdropping into comms while your oblivious friend brings up your darkest secret.
Pairing: platonic!Soap x gn!Reader; Ghost x gn!Reader
Warnings/Info: cussing; smoking; awkward flirting; humor; call sign 'Chaos' 🤷🏼‍♀️
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It's been quiet for most of the night. You even managed to catch some sleep before Soap woke you up for your turn of keeping watch.
The cigarette dangles between your lips as you mutter curses under your breath while fumbling with the cable of your headset.
"Jesus Christ, me comms are fucked, Johnny", you say eventually with a frustrated click of your tongue.
"You got a lighter?"
The sergeant has been watching you with blatant amusement since you started to try and fix your comms in the dark; not once bothering to offer his help. He holds his rifle with one hand and pulls out a blue lighter from one of his many pockets before closing the small distance to you.
You lean in with your head and shield your gloved hand over the cigarette as he flicks his thumb over the lighter until it produces a small flame. The tip of the cigarette glows hot and orange as the cheap tobacco lights on fire and when you take a first, greedy drag, the tip glimmers brighter.
"Ah, thanks"
The smoke catches in your nostrils, burns in your throat, and you exhale slowly, relishing the feeling of nicotine boosting your system.
"I shouldn't be supporting yer addiction like that, mate", Soap says, shaking his head a little as he settles back to lean against the brick wall of the multi-story safe house. "Lt. would rip me a new one if he knew, ya know"
You raise an eyebrow at that, questioning and startled.
"Whaddaya mean by that, huh?", you ask after taking another drag, trying to sound as nonchalant as you can.
Soap shrugs his broad shoulders first, but he wears that cheeky half-smirk you know too well. The one he shows whenever he's about to do something utterly stupid.
"Aw c'mon now, Chaos, don't make me say it out loud"
Your heart rate increases, but your face stays stoic, although you feel a wave of embarrassment flush to your neck, up to your cheeks.
"Say what?"
Thank god it's dark. You lick your lips and flick the built-up ash from the tip of the cigarette.
"That the Lt. and you got the hots for each other, and bad at that too. I bet you two have rubbed one out before while thinking about the other"
You suck in a sharp breath and a sudden coughing fit shakes you up enough to be unable to speak, so you flip your friend off instead.
"Yeah, yeah, love ya too, kid", Soap snorts amused with a dismissive wave of his hand. "and don't act all innocent now. I know ya too well"
You throw the cigarette butt to the ground and crush it with the heel of your boot; your lugs have calmed down by now and you take a slow, long inhale.
"Bloody hell", you hiss, lowering your voice to a whisper. "You can't just say that out here!"
"Why? Everyone's sleeping, plus they probably don't care anyway"
"I care", you retort snappishly. "and I told you that in confidence, ya bastard."
He snickers, proud that he managed to rile you up that easily again.
"Just tell him already. I can't stand all that weird, sexual tension and pining anymore. Ya know, in fact, none of us can. Me personally, it's driving me nuts"
You purse your lips, too stunned to speak as your brain tries to come up with anything other than an insult; perhaps something sharp and witty for once. However, Soap's got a point, and you can't argue with that.
"It doesn't matter what I want. Ghost is not interested in me, otherwise he probably would've made a move at some point already, innit?"
You genuinely asking for your friends advice now, but it takes a closer look at your face to eventually realize that.
"I mean...he - he's not me"
"Clearly", you say with a roll of your eyes. "Be serious for once, Johnny"
Soap sighs as he rubs his stubby chin in search for the right words.
"Am serious. I would've made a move on ya long ago, but Lt...he's just different"
"Different? Like...concerning his sexuality?", you inquire, your eyes squinting as you ask cautiously.
"Hell no! I mean, I'm not sure. We've never really talked - Jesus, Chaos, what do you want me to tell you?"
Soap shrugs his shoulders, eyes widened, now stumped for an answer.
"I don't know, man! You started the whole conversation about the Lt. and my pathetic crush on him", you snap though your voice drops at the end, along with your shoulders as you tighten the grip on your rifle.
The topic has been on your mind a lot lately and whenever you think about it for too long, or Soap bring it up to tease you, your heart clenches with desperation and loneliness afterwards.
Soap kicks at the dirt at his feet, keeps his eyes locked on the ground before daring to look up at you again.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be an arse"
You smack your lips together then force yourself to smile at him as you fumble for another cigarette in your back pocket.
"Yeah, I know. No worries"
Soap pulls out the lighter again, without you having to ask him this time, and as you stick the filter between your lips, both of you freeze when your comms come to life.
"What's your status, sergeants?"
The Lieutenant's voice is low and strident in your ear, and it makes your knees involuntarily weak while your pulse races in your jugular.
"All warm and fuzzy down here, Lt.", Soap answer coolly while you try not to freak out. He winks at you before pointing at his headset.
"Speaking of the devil, eh?", he chuckles.
There's a short moment of silence, before Ghost speaks up again.
"There are differences between devils and ghosts, Soap."
Your eyes widen at that. Soap didn't even press the button to his comms.
"I uh you're...uh", you stutter as you try to come up with something to say to check if your comms are malfunction too.
"Everything ok with Chaos there, Johnny?"
Soap is still oblivious until you clasp your hand over your mouth in shock, confusing him even more.
"Affirmative, sir. Chaos is fine, just uh...fatigued."
"I'll tell Gaz to finish the shift with you. Send Chaos up. Ghost out."
Your heart drops with anxiety after Ghost drops the orders. Meanwhile, Soap rubs his gloved hands over his face with a groan.
"Great, you can go back to sleep and I'll be stuck on watch"
You're still trying to comprehend what just happened while Soap keeps conplaining under his breath.
"He...heard us, Johnny. Maybe everything we just talked about. Our comms are fucked, I told ya!", you shriek as you throw the cigarette to the ground.
It dawns of him then, and his eyes widen before he throws his head back and starts laughing quietly.
"Hey, if that's true -", he starts, wiping away tears from the corners of his eyes. "then you don't have to worry about confessing your feelings to him anymore"
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celestialsun888 · 1 day
Time for Us.
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Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Gn!Reader
Genre: Fluff!
Word Count: 387
Synopsis: Simon spends some time with you in the most wholesome way possible; just being in your presence.
★ TW: None <33 Legit just the sweetest stuff evaaa! Established relationship w/ him. Simple thoughts of Simon. This is soo short but I just had it on my mind. might add to this later :)
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✒ Authors Note: Just obsessed with him like everyone else. So I wrote a lil’ drabble because I was feeling a little soft. Love when people write sweet stuff for him ;3 my wholesome boy! ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Your hands intertwined together playfully lacing your fingers through his as you lay facing each other on your bed. The open windows allowed for a soft breeze to trail through the sunlit room that scattered gentle rainbows throughout while the curtains danced benevolently. The fresh flowers he had gifted you sat swaying slightly on top of your bookshelf, petals bending gently as they hung over the glass vase. 
His coarse and calloused fingers contrasted to your softer, more gentle hands. Skin littered with aggressive scars insinuating pain and war that told more stories than he ever would. Stories so demented he would never utter them to you. You, however, were so much gentler. So much kinder. Your hands expressed peace and a simpler, more wholesome side of life. 
Simon liked that. 
He enjoyed how you gave him a taste of hope for good things. That not everyone or everything was bad and that when he was with you he could feel as close as he could to home. A happy home.
You liked moments like these where he was vulnerable with you. Time just for you two. He had gotten comfortable with showing you his face, his scars, the intimate parts of himself that he no longer wanted to hide when he was with you. He had come a long way learning to express himself and his emotions to you because he knew you were worth trusting. 
“I like this,” he started. His voice thick and raspy as he sat up slightly and looked at you lying down. Seeing you like this made him weak: staring up at him kindly. Gently. He loved the way your eyes were so soft when you looked at him, as if you saw the innermost corners of his heart and soul. His inner child, real, uncorrupted Simon. “The time we have together, just us.” 
His hand reached to trace over your cheek needing to touch you, to feel your warmth, to make sure it's real. You sit up on your knees meeting his penetratingly intimate gaze. He was analyzing every part of you, he studied you but you didn’t mind. Your tender touch glides over his lips, eyes following your thumb and eventually breaking away to meet his dark eyes, “Me too Simon,” you hum, “I wish it could last forever.”
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jayteacups · 3 days
At Ease
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Pairing: Levi x GN!Reader
Tags and warnings: Friends to lovers, (mutual) pining, brief mentions of canon-typical violence, brief mentions of sexual assault (alluding to Levi’s backstory), emotional hurt/comfort 
Summary: You, the Survey Corps' most prized asset, find solace in the stoic but gentle teashop owner who you've come to know as your friend. (Or: The Captain!Reader x Civilian!Levi AU absolutely nobody asked for.)
Word count: 3.5k 
A/N: Hi! This is written for Rei’s @levi-supreme​ Happy Birthday Levi 2022 Event, for the 5th December! I’m also doing a couple more pieces later in the month for this as well. But in the mean time, please check out the other works listed in the event’s masterpost too! Okay, so, let’s get on with the fic. If the tags and summary wasn't clear, this is a role reversal AU! So Reader's a prominent member of the Scouts and Levi's the civilian they've fallen in love with. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing this <3 
[AO3 link]
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Slender fingers slide the teacup and saucer across the spotless wooden table towards you, the dark liquid rippling slightly. The scraping sound of porcelain against wood pulls you out of your reverie. For a moment you blink, drawing yourself back to the present. With a shaky exhale, you push aside the horrifying memories of the expedition you had been on these past few days, and raise your eyes to meet the piercing yet gentle gaze of the teashop owner. 
“One cup of raspberry and lemon tea,” he announces. 
“Oh. Thank you, Levi.” You rasp, but make no move to pick the cup up. It’s too hot to drink. As one of his most dedicated customers, you know exactly how long it’ll take for it to cool down enough for you to not burn your tongue on it. For a moment, Levi hovers by your table, examining you closely. You’re well aware of the absolute state you are in. Even after having washed and changed, the emotional toll of the expedition would linger for a while longer. 
Thankfully, Levi mentions nothing of your red-rimmed eyes or your trembling hands. His hand comes up to squeeze your shoulder, and you find yourself unconsciously leaning into the warmth of his touch. The lump in your throat feels much larger. Swallowing, breathing without whimpering, becomes a demanding feat. 
Stay, please, you silently beg him. With Levi, you never needed to be the domineering Captain of the Survey Corps. With Levi, you could just be.
You wonder if he knows that this shop had become more of a home than the barracks ever would be. That he had become more of a home than the barracks ever would be. 
Levi’s voice takes on a soothing, gentle timbre as he assures you, “Furlan’s coming in at the end of this hour to take over at the counter. I can join you then.” He’s usually stoic and steadfast, more so than even you, perhaps, but there is a softness to him nobody can deny. 
You don’t have to be alone, is what goes unsaid from him, but you hear him loud and clear. I’m not expecting you to tell me anything, but nobody should have to bear any of this alone. I won’t let you.
You nod in response. It is a herculean effort. 
The dark-haired man gives your shoulder another gentle squeeze, before he swivels on his heel and heads back towards the counter. 
With a sigh, you lean your head against the wall next to you, watching Levi work. It’s mesmerising the way the sunlight would make his grey eyes shine just a little brighter, the way his lips would quirk up into a small smile as he greeted his regulars. Head facing downwards, measuring out the ingredients for a particular blend, he habitually tucks the longer strands of his hair behind his ears. A few fall back into place despite his efforts. Your fingers twitch with the urge to brush the soft hairs aside for him so that he could see without obstruction. 
You’d started visiting his teashop, Kuchel’s Teahouse, just over a year ago. Nothing drastic had happened that day, but you distinctly remembered just wanting a break, from the impossibly high expectations thrust upon you, from the memories of failed expeditions that haunted you in the dead of night, from everything. And there it was, a small teashop tucked away in the corner of town, with its sage-green painted walls and sparkling clean tabletops and that ever-so-soothing scent of black tea. An oasis, a safe haven. Upon seeing it for the first time back then, you had been convinced the entire shop was a mirage until you felt the cold, smooth metal of the door handle. 
Stepping inside Kuchel’s Teahouse for the first time had felt like receiving a long, warm hug from somebody you didn’t know you missed until you’d been separated from them—only that you’d never seen this shop before, so it had been all the more overwhelming. That day, Levi had been at the counter. Your tongue had been leaden with words, so many words, both about this place and the world outside of it, that you simply stared at the ‘weekly specials’ menus, not quite seeing or comprehending what was written, not quite processing anything other than just simply feeling too little and too much at once. 
Levi had somehow figured out what was up with you within twenty seconds of silence, and had taken it upon himself to pick a blend for you. Even now, you remember feeling the stress of the day ebb away with one sip of the perfectly crafted cup, its warmth spreading deep down into your bones. A kind of warmth that thawed away the icy chill that had settled over your heart and soul, a kind of warmth you never felt back at the barracks. You had returned to the shop in the next two days, and the rest became history. Somehow, you and the teashop owner had struck up a sort of friendship; both of you tired and burdened by life, whether it be the ghosts of the past or the trials of the present.
Several months into your friendship, Levi had admitted to you over half a bottle of whiskey that he hailed from a rundown brothel in the Underground. He and his sickly mother had been rescued by his criminal uncle to live a normal life aboveground, though the traumas of his earliest years had never left him. Behind a tranquil, peaceful appearance he hid the haunting memories of watching his mother suffer through assault after assault, experiencing it himself a few times. He’d confided in you that the name of the shop was hers; she had owned it first, and he had taken over after her tragic passing a few years before. 
Your own tongue, loosened by alcohol, revealed you were not just some random soldier like you’d first led him to believe, but one of the strongest, the person who was supposed to free everybody from the iron reign of the titans. How you’d lost squad after squad, feeling yourself slip away from those you’d once considered friends as they took on their own burdens of leadership roles. Back then, you had been a hair’s breadth away from throwing in the towel and leaving the Scouts. But it was Levi’s story, how he’d managed to stay compassionate and kind even after his rough childhood, how he managed to pick himself up and make a life for himself, that lit a fire inside of you.
Though, at times like today, said fire needs a little extra sustenance to stay burning.
(You wonder, absentmindedly, if the metaphor could be taken a little too literally. Levi had his own life and you had come crashing into it. You fear that sooner or later he’ll burn into ashes in the wake of your destructive nature. Wherever you go, bodies fall. It’s why the fleeting euphoria of entertaining the thought of having something more with him is always followed with scathing shame. It’s why you never dare to indulge in anything more than thoughts—of which you shouldn’t be indulging in at all.)
Tightening your cloak around you, you force yourself back into the present, blinking rapidly. The hearth sends pulses of warmth through the shop—not stifling heat, but just enough to thaw the chill of the rapidly approaching winter and keep it at bay. The quiet, aimless chatter and the occasional chink of spoons against porcelain fade into a faint white noise. The scent of your hot cup of tea drifts upwards into the air around you, lulling you into a half-awake state. You don’t remember ever feeling this at ease anywhere else. 
It’s tiring, isn’t it? To keep fighting. You think to yourself, as you lose the battle to keep your eyes open.
“Wake up.”
You jolt awake. There’s a hand on your shoulder, and as you blink away the remaining remnants of sleep, Levi slips into the seat opposite to you, free of his apron. His gaze is gentle, as is his touch: his hand seems to hover over yours, but he withdraws, fingers accidentally grazing yours as he does so. 
Perhaps if you were more awake, you’d linger on that. Instead you straighten up groggily, lifting your head off the wall that you’d dozed off against. Levi’s coworker, Furlan, now stands at the till, and the shop is far less busy than you remember it being. 
“Your tea’s gone cold,” Levi points out.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep…” Blood pools in your cheeks with embarrassment. You reach for the cup. “Sorry.” 
He shakes his head. “You must be exhausted. Anyone would be, after the shit you just went through.” 
Closing your eyes to quell the fresh stinging in them, you quickly drain the cold cup of its tea. The two of you head out to leave shortly after Levi checks to see if Furlan’s alright with closing by himself. Outside the door, you pull your thin civilian cloak around yourself, barely warding away the cold. Levi doesn’t need to ask to know that you’re planning on staying over at his place, and leads the way. 
His quaint little house is a home away from home. You stay overnight on his couch (though he always argues that you should take his bed) more than you sleep at your quarters in the barracks. It’s become an unspoken facet of your friendship. The memory of exactly when this began is foggy, but you suspect it all began since that night of heavy drinking together, where the two of you had opened up about your lives. You’d been too drunk to walk back to the barracks, and he’d been too drunk to escort you there. His place had not been too far from the bar, so it had seemed like the only solution. 
The walk back is blurry. The autumn chill nips at your exposed face and hands, worming its way through the layers of your clothes, burrowing under your skin and chilling you through the bone. The sky sheds tears, the drizzle akin to the gods spitting down on you, and you can’t help but think: how fitting. Levi clicks his tongue, and unlike you, draws his hood up over his head. He doesn’t deserve the gods’ vitriol. Not like you do. 
His home is as warm and cozy as the shop is. It’s also cleaner, a fact that you once thought was impossible. Peeling the dampened cloaks off of your bodies, Levi offers to let you use the showers first, but you decline. Earlier in the barracks, you’d spent over an hour in your own private quarters, sat on the floor underneath the scalding hot rush of water, yet feeling not a single flicker of warmth. 
All that time spent sat under the shower, and you don’t feel any cleaner. The smell of blood—titan or human, it didn’t matter—wasn’t one you were going to forget anytime soon. 
“I already showered back at the barracks,” you end up saying. “You can go ahead.” 
His eyes linger carefully over your face. “Make yourself comfortable,” he says, before heading into the bathroom. 
After you fetch your set of spare pyjamas from the guest bedroom and get changed, you wander through his humble abode, smiling to yourself at the small knick-knacks that seem insignificant to the naked eye, but speaks volumes about the man that lives here. At Levi’s worktop, a half-finished wooden sculpture lies next to sharp tools; he’d recently taken up wood carving. The walls are decorated with stunning paintings of natural scenery, signed by his mother. The shelves in the corridors are filled with books that Furlan and Isabel continue to buy for him every winter when his birthday comes around. Every room has a healthy-looking houseplant inside (a mere glimpse of the true extent of his gardening abilities, if the flourishing state of the allotment during spring is anything to go by), and on the dining table lies a book on vegetable gardening (almost a decade old and well-used, but under Levi’s care still looks good as new), with a piece of card tucked between the neat pages to act as a bookmark. The winter chill rushes through the house, and you jolt back into action, lighting the hearth in his living room. It is the least you could do for him. 
It feels wrong, to intrude on his space like this. The soft cushions of the sofa and the pile of spare blankets on the armchair beckons you, but something in you hesitates. Peace is delicate, fragile. You fear your presence will break it and taint the tranquil atmosphere. What right do you have to step into his life with your war-torn hands and bloodied boots? 
Not for the first time today, your eyes burn. 
Quiet footsteps echo behind you. “I thought I told you to make yourself comfortable.” Levi says softly. 
You sniff. “Right. Sorry.” Trudging over to the armchair to get the blankets, you explain, “I just got lost in thought.” 
“It happens. Don’t be sorry.” 
Easier said than done.
The two of you settle on the sofa quickly, swaddled underneath the thick blankets. He sits close, but his arm never presses against yours. It’s a small gap that feels infinitely large. Levi’s the first to cross said gap, slinging an arm around your shoulders and guiding your head to rest on his shoulder. His body underneath yours emanates a soothing type of warmth, and it’s all too easy for you to melt. He rubs at your arm comfortingly, and lightly rests his head atop yours. 
A sob rips from your throat, raw and unbidden. 
You choke back the next one, shaking your head frantically. No. No, not now, you can’t break down in front of him, not like this—
You raise your hand to wipe at your watering eyes, and you note that your fingers tremble. Levi grips your wrist before you can wipe at your face. His hand slides down your palm, before his fingers interlock with yours. 
“What are you doing?” You stammer, voice choked. 
His throat bobs as he swallows. “Making sure…” He pauses, inhales shakily. Levi looks up at you with resolve. “Making sure you know that… I’ve got you.” 
I’ve got you. 
Oh, how you wish you could hear that more often. 
You shatter. Completely and utterly, you shatter into minuscule pieces with no hope of repair. The weight that presses down on your shoulders day by day, the weight that builds on your chest until you can no longer bear to breathe is fucking agonising, and yet it is only in the safety of Levi’s presence—not your office, not your quarters, but his presence—that you let yourself break. 
It seems never-ending, your pain. He draws you close to him in a tight embrace, and you cling to him as if he could slip away from your arms that very moment. Maybe he will, you think to yourself deliriously. You still have him to lose, after all. 
You’re not sure how long you lie there, sobs wracking your body, your cries so uncontrollable something in your chest twinges. At some point in the evening, you fall quiet. Your eyes feel sticky and swollen, your nose throbs, and your mouth is drier than sandpaper. Exhaustion weighs down upon you once again, and as your eyes droop shut, shame washes over you. 
“Thank you for being here,” you whisper brokenly. Your head pounds. 
“Of course. Get some rest, I’ll still be here when you wake.” Levi says. You’re leaning your head against his chest; you can feel his voice reverberate through him. It’s a comforting sensation. 
You come to several hours later, nestled between warm, soft sheets that smell like him. The curtains to his bedroom—for that is where you find yourself, instead of on the sofa—are drawn, though a small sliver of golden light escapes. Sleep clings to your eyelids, but you muster enough energy to push aside the blankets and sluggishly stumble to the bathroom. 
Levi’s cooking breakfast in his kitchen when you emerge, feeling a little more awake. With his apron tied over rumpled pyjamas, bedhead not yet tamed, the atmosphere feels a little too domestic for your liking. 
(That, of course, is a lie. You yearn for such a simple life, for domesticity is something you have not experienced in years.) 
You lean against the wall, not wanting to disturb the easy rhythm he’s fallen into, but Levi looks up from his work anyway. He beckons you over with a wave of his spatula. Before you can think it through, your feet carry you forward. He asks you to fetch the plates and cutlery, and you lay them out on the countertop. 
“You seem to have slept well,” he observes, flipping over the omelette in the pan. 
“Yeah. Well enough for you to carry me into your bedroom without me waking up even once,” you mumble. “Why’d you do that?” 
The tips of his ears tint pink. He transfers the first omelette onto the plate and gestures for you to take it to the dining table. “Didn’t think you’d appreciate waking up to a crick in your neck from sleeping on the sofa.” 
You don’t bother to push further, because that would lead to a conversation you’re positive you’re not yet ready for. You nod instead. There’s a subtle shift to his shoulders—they were a little tense, but they relax now. 
“Never mind,” he says quickly, a little too quickly, as he pours in the rest of the whisked egg mixture into the pan. “Take your plate to the dining table. You can eat first while I finish cooking mine, I know you need to get back to the barracks soon.” 
“Perhaps I need to, but I don’t want to.” The words slip from your mouth unbidden. “Perhaps I’d rather stay here in your presence.” 
Looking all too vulnerable, Levi seems to be at a loss for words. Dread floods through you as the realisation of what you truly meant slowly encompasses him. Your throat closes, your chest tightens. You idiot, you scold yourself. Whatever happened to staying in control? 
“Sorry,” you mumble, ducking your head and leaving the kitchen with your plate. You pick at your breakfast, suddenly feeling queasy. 
Walls, you want to scream at yourself, what the fuck is wrong with you? 
Levi emerges from the kitchen with his own plate minutes later, settling in the seat opposite to you. The tension is stifling, and for the second time this morning, your cursed tongue moves without thought. 
“Please forget what I said.” And everything that went unsaid.  
“And what if I don’t want to?” 
“You have to.” Or I’ll be standing by your grave, shedding bitter tears. It’s the fate everyone I love is sentenced to. “I don’t understand why you still stay at my side…” 
The emotion written clear as day across his eyes could only be described as longing. He seems to steel himself. 
“You know why.” 
The room falls silent in the aftermath of his confession. You can only hear the blood roaring in your ears. 
You’ve read hundreds of romance novels in your spare time. Daydreamed of it every spare moment in your teens, before you were wounded by the world’s cruelty. Lived through thousands of iterations of moment of realisation that the person you’ve longed for, longs for you back, through the marvel of ink on paper. 
But you don’t feel sparks, or burning flames, or roaring hot passion. You don’t feel butterflies in your stomach, or the urge to swoon. 
No. You feel two things at once. 
Fear—that this moment will irreversibly change the trajectory of Levi’s fate. That he will just be one of dozens that will meet an untimely end, that you will once again fail to protect the ones you hold dearest. 
Relief—that he reciprocates. That, just once, you’ve been granted a reprieve, one small chance at peace. 
“I see.” You whisper hoarsely, still skirting around the very words themselves, just as he does. “And I think that you know, then, why I want to stay.” 
Levi stands and comes around the table, and so do you. The two of you come to a standstill merely centimetres from each other. 
“Maybe you have to go soon,” he whispers, cupping the back of your head, “but next time, will you…” 
You nod. “I will.” 
He pulls you in, or you lean in, perhaps both happen at the same time. You’re not sure. What you are sure of, is how safe and content you feel, kissing him like you have all the time in the world, kissing him like maybe, just maybe…
You can stay.  
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Levi x Reader Masterlist | AOT Masterlist
© jayteacups 2022 | Please do not repost, modify or claim as your own work. 
158 notes · View notes
itto being so easy to make cum and whimper and 🥴 has my whole heart. he’s so eager to please you, however you want him to. but he’s a bit of a big talker. a bit inexperienced, if you would, and a bit hesitant when it comes to his strength. he’s sweet about it, big puppy dog eyes when he feels something wrong. but he can never do wrong in your eyes, no, he’s far too good for that.
so you teach him. you teach him where it feels good, how to please you properly. you teach him how to please himself, how to make himself feel good for the times you can’t take care of him. and he melts in your touch, whimpering and pleading as your fingers trace through his muscles. you take your time, savoring him, teaching him however many times he asks. you’ve found that he needs to be shown more than one time, either due to his short term memory or intentional, but you’re more than happy to oblige each time. he learns to love himself in your hands, learning a language he never thought someone would so patiently teach him.
despite all of this, he does keep his puppy dog eye act, showing up to your tent with those big pleading eyes of his. you can’t help but sigh, stroking his hair as presses his face into your stomach. he knows what he’s doing, of course. and it’s almost impossible to say no to him.
104 notes · View notes
Y/N: Name a way to be nice to others.
Daemon: Don’t kill them?
Y/N: That’s setting the bar a little low, but I’ll allow it.
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starlight-writer · 2 days
If your requests are open could I pleeease have moon boys helping you on your period? I’ve got a bad one and need some comfort 🥲 <3
Period Comfort
A/n: Ofc you can! I’m sorry you’re having a difficult time, I hope this helps!
Warnings: none, light pain and discomfort, fluff
Afab reader but Gn pronouns            Masterlist
King of taking care of you
Need pads or tampons? He’ll run to the store. Literally
And he’ll muster up his best death glare at anyone that mocks him for it
Want some snacks? He’s getting them
Want something home made? He’s learning how to make it as we speak
Need some cuddles? Move over, love, the Steven love bomb is headed your direction at full speed
While he doesn’t have much knowledge on periods, he knows when you’re uncomfortable and he‘d do anything to make it go away
Reads all about how to help cramps and what foods or drinks will make it worse
“I bought you chocolate, bananas, oranges, chamomile tea, and I’ve got a warm bath running.”
If you have a really bad period, like can’t get out of bed, he’s right beside you the entire time
He’ll read to you or just lay with you until you need something
If you’re hot, remove blankets, but encourage you to keep the heat pack on your stomach
If you’re cold, he’ll bring every blanket in the flat
If you bleed through, he’ll wave it off like it was nothing
“Don’t worry love, I’ve been cleaning blood out of my clothes for months, I can get this out in a jiffy! Why don’t you pick a movie and I’ll start on dinner?”
Will be very focused on how much pain medication you take and when you took it
“Sorry love, you’ve got to wait a few more hours, don’t want you taking too much and getting sick.”
Over all, he does research, very kind and soft, and always knows how to accommodate to what ever your feeling
Oh and don’t think he won’t take the day off of work, because he will gladly yell to everyone that his significant other needs him and if Donna wants to put him on inventory for the month, he’ll gladly take it to take care of you
He has more experience than Steven and Jake combined, but that doesn’t mean he’ll know exactly what to do
While he was married to Layla, he quickly found out women and afab people act differently on their periods so he’s a little hesitant on how to approach you, unsure of what you need from him
Buys anything you want because he can’t cook
Will kind of shyly ask what tampons or pads you use before going to the store and stocking up on them
Will absolutely argue with anyone that calls him weak or less of a man for buying you menstruation products
“You’re just sad no one loves you or trusts you enough to take care of them besides your mother!”
He’s not sure what foods help or don’t help, so he just gets what he used to get Layla
But he’ll gladly listen to any advice on how to help you if what he’s doing isn’t helping
Doesn’t do as much research as Steven, of course he’ll look up foods that’ll make you feel worse, but he prefers to ask YOU what YOU want
If you request a food that makes your period worse, he’ll suggest you eat something else, but doesn’t argue
You know your body better than Google
If you ask for cuddles, look out, the Marc train is rolling into the station
He loves give you affection so don’t be shy to ask for a kiss or just to be held
If you’re really emotional, he’ll be a little confused on what to do, but he’ll try his best
Isn’t as focused on what medications you take and when so he just kinda shakes out an amount and hands you some water
He gets beat up for a living and takes a lot of pain medication and it hasn’t killed him yet
As always, he’ll be very loving and soft toward you and please be upfront with what you want, he wants to help you as much as he can
He’s the boyfriend that would ask “what pussy size you wear?” when buying pads, but in a joking way
Don’t let that scare you though, he is very loving and will do anything for you
He will never be ashamed of buying you pads or tampons, he loves you and if anyone has the dumbass idea of calling him out for it, he’ll put them in their place
If you call him while he’s out working, whether it be while he’s a cabby or Moon Knight, and ask for cuddles or just his presence, he is dropping everything and running to you
Does a surprising amount of research
Not as much as Steven, but definitely more than Marc
“Cariño, is it true that everyone craves chocolate on their period?”
Tries to call your period something funny to make you smile
“What’s up, amor? Oh, are you having a red velvet cake?”
“Oh, it’s shark week?”
“Is the Red Sea giving us a visit?”
If it makes you uncomfortable, he’ll immediately stop
He never wants to make you uncomfortable, especially when you’re already in pain and uncomfortable for a whole week
This man never needs a reason to randomly hug you or give you a kiss so if you’re a very cuddly person on your period, he’ll be overly ecstatic that he gets to hold you all day
And for a whole week?? He might die of happiness
And if you don’t want to be touched, that’s completely fine with him
He’ll sit a bit away from you and talk your ear off about his day to try and distract you from the pain
“This cabrón walked right in front of the street and acted all shocked when I almost ran into him. Idiota absoluto. He’s lucky I’m an amazing driver.”
Will hold you all night, occasionally reheating your water bottle or taking the heating pad away to make sure you’re not gonna overheat
His life is always full of danger and running so he’s so glad he gets to be a part of these slow, domestic days with the one person he wants to spend them with.
Also, be up front with what you want from him
You’re his first serious relationship and he doesn’t want to mess that up so tell him what you want and when you want it
I promise he won’t get embarrassed, he loves you as you are and could never be embarrassed by anything you do
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rowniebow · 3 days
the office job | peter parker x gn!reader
summary: an awkward meeting
pairings: peter parker x reader
cw: murder and death mentions
word count: 1.9k+
an: i really enjoyed writing this and feel like i could take this somewhere but it felt right to end it here so, let me know!
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it was early december when i met you. i honestly can't recall the day, it was such a blur back then. but the snow that sat in your hair gave the date away.
"oh, jesus! i'm sorry-," you voice was ragged and worn. still to this day, i wonder what had strained your chords as bad as they had that morning. a cold, perhaps? maybe you simply caught a bad case of the morning raspies that day.
"in a hurry?" i managed to choke out a smile while you struggled to get the several binders under your arms back into place.
"um, no, actually. just a cluts." your soft, raspy laugh smacked me in my head and something ran cold pinpricks down my spine.
when you finally looked up at me, i thought i was going to pass out. your eyes twinkled with a light of unmatched warmth. your lopsided grin made my knees shake. your messy hair (which i came to find out is how it always is) fell over and around your face perfectly.
"are you-? sorry, are you new here?" you asked me. you kept your grin, but curiosity ran through your eyes and brows, now.
"me? no, no, i've been locked down in the basement. timothy finally set me free!"
i admit it was a horrible joke. but could you blame me when all i was thinking about was how beautiful you were?
and you know what's crazy? you laugh. you laughed at my shitty joke. and your laugh is like a thousand miracles.
"i always knew tim had some freaky stuff down there!" your giggle died out and so did your eye contact with me. "what department are you in?"
your smile was still there. i couldn't see it all too well since you had gone back to fixing your binders but it was so evident in your scratched voice.
"yeah?" you finally looked back up. god, those eyes.
"well, i guess i know who i'll go to whenever i need a picture for my article now, huh-" you tilted your head to get a look at my name tag. "peter parker?"
"that's my name, don't wear it out." your eyes crinkled in the corners. the little happy glaze covered your eyes. "you're, uh, you write?"
"yes, sir!"
"what do you write about?"
"well, i do crime articles, but do you wanna hear a secret, peter parker?" you lowered your voice to an attempted whisper but the rasp caused a loud squeak to slip through your lips every other word or so.
i could only nod and stare into your eyes that stayed steady on my own.
"my true passion is the crossword puzzles on the back."
i let my mouth fall agape at the oh so shocking words but a smile pulled at my cheeks.
"i know, i know. i have many mysteries, i do."
the door that you had come in from opened and some man i didn't bother to recognize looked us up and down as he wiped his feet. i suppose we did look odd, chatting at the corner of the entrance.
as you looked over your shoulder at the man's retreating back, your smile faltered. you hugged the binders under your arm tighter, looking back over to me.
and those eyes met mine once again.
"well, i will see you soon, peter parker." you turned on your heel and made your way down the hall as soon as the words left your mouth.
"what did you say your name was?" i called.
"i didn't." you only glanced over your shoulder at me. i could make out your upturned lips, but nothing more.
the week until i saw you again felt like months. even now, the hours in between seeing you feel like years and the minutes feel like days.
but then especially, when i was settling into the new work environment, life was dull and i regretted taking the job. you had set my expectations so unreasonably high. you, my new coworker who was charming and funny.
it was very bold of me, and idiotic, to assume anyone else at this damn newspaper job would be anything compared to your gracefulness.
your voice came out of nowhere that day. it was different this time. smoother. just as relaxing as before but in a different kind of way. your voice danced more. your voice spun and jumped with as much liveliness as your eyes held.
"peter parker," you called ever so quietly from behind me.
i turned, eyes wide at your sudden appearance. a smile soon overtook my relaxing features, though.
"i have a request."
"from who?"
"from the mailman downstairs. he says your box is overflowing. who do you think?"
you sat one hand on the desk and the other on the back of my chair. you were mere inches away and i could smell you. you smelled sweet. vanilla. just as sweet as your eyes and smile.
you began to lean in, my nose was practically in the crook of your neck. "no, i have a request for my favorite photographer. don't tell billy i said that, though." you whispered with a giggle and a grin.
"uhm," i cleared my throat, smile hadn't left since you arrived, and spoke as smoothly as i could. i refused to let any bumps or errors infiltrate my speech with you around. "yeah, of course, what's up?"
"i want a photo for an article that i am trying to write. but i gotta go to the murder scene for it. come with?"
"t-today?" and there goes the bumps and errors.
"as soon as humanly possible, preferably." your eyes traveled across the room. "otherwise, i can always go to billy-"
i began gathering my stuff a little too anxiously but at the time it seemed reasonable, i swear.
"no, no! i'm all good for it."
we stood up straight together. i hadn't realized how much of a height difference there was between the two of us until now.
camera equipment and bags in hand, we headed out.
"oh but what i said about the mailboxes? that was true. george, our mail keeper, keeps complaining to me about an extremely full box that has your name on it."
"i didn't even know we had a mailroom!"
"this is it?"
"what do you mean 'this is it?', why did you say it like that?" your lovely eyes met mine as we stood looking around at the nature before us.
"i mean- it's not very... murder site-y,"
"poor girl was dumped in a forest. those-" you waved your hand over the space that was cut off from caution tape and little yellow tents with numbers on them. "-are the closest your going to get to murder site-y."
i looked at you like you were stupid.
"we're not going to take a picture of her dead body and put them up all over the newspaper! that's so inconsiderate."
"the other people in the crime department do-"
"the other people in the crime department are desensitized and lack any empathetic bone in their body."
it was nice out. the ground was covered in a blanket of snow. animals bounced from branch to branch, causing bits and pieces of cold white to fall around us.
you stood with your hands stuffed in your pockets. your fingers shook any time they came out of them.
"so, uh," i groaned while snapping some pictures of the murder site. your eyes fell from our surrounding areas down to me. "what makes you so much different from the other people in the crime department."
you shook your head a little bit, "i never said i was different."
"oh, no, you're right. you only said you have the capacity to be empathetic and they don't."
"listen," you let out a breathy laugh. visible heat left from your smile. "those guys have spilled more coffee on me and said nothing about it than anyone else there."
i couldn't help but let a smile pull at my lips from your uncaring tone. "everyone in that building seems a little..."
"why aren't you?"
"what?" there's a smile in your voice but i can't hardly see it.
"why haven't your spirits been killed yet?" i couldn't help but smile at the confusion laced through your face.
i went back to taking photos, trying to get the right shot - the best shot - for you.
you thought about your answer for a long while. i opened my mouth, ready to change the subject, when you finally answered.
"it's a sad field, writing about crime. i think they've built up a wall to defend themselves."
i stopped taking photos to see you.
"but i like to get personal with it. i've spent full nights in that office alone crying because the family i had gotten to know was so nice and undeserving, and then i can't find the perfect words to justify their hurt for the one they lost."
you wouldn't look back at me. your eyes were fixed on the twinkling ground.
"i've met a lot of really great people through this job. i get to see the human in every one every day, even when i don't get to see it in my coworkers."
and you look up. you smile. a thoughtful glimmer in your eye. you're satisfied with your words.
you've conveyed yourself: wholly and perfectly.
"what about you?"
"i mean, you're new. you haven't been infected yet. but why this job?"
"oh, i, uh. my answer isn't as nice as yours."
"every answer is nice!" you're still smiling at me. i was so flustered, i don't think i smiled back at all despite my efforts.
and, god, your head did a little tilt.
"i, um, like to capture moments in time. special moments, i guess. or - not even. just moments as a whole. moments of peace, moments of rage. i've come to appreciate moments more since- well,"
i had to take a breath. it was shakey. since what? since everything?
"gotta monetize my interests like everybody else, you know?" i had to let out a laugh. it was breathy and strained.
you didn't laugh.
you smiled, like you always do, but i couldn't tell what you were thinking behind that one.
"this was a test, you know?" it was a question but you said it more like a statement. as if i really was was supposed to know.
"a test for what?"
"whether you'd be my new personal photographer."
"did i pass?"
"yes! with flying colors."
the chilled air scratched at your cheeks and bit your nose raw. your car felt closer than i wanted it to be.
"do i get a special tag now?"
"i think i can make that happen!"
and i did get a tag.
the next day, you brought me a folded paper that was similar to the size of an id card. it was written in penmanship that showed in every curve you were trying your best but it was your third or fourth try at it, and your hand was getting rather tired, and you were deciding that i probably wouldn't judge your handwriting all that much.
Peter Parker:
Y/N's Best Photographer
i stuck the paper in my wallet where i could see it whenever i liked. and where billy couldn't see it, of course.
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daemonoferror · 2 days
Asgard's Bard- Part 1
Heimdall x gn! Reader
TW: Death, pain, blood, heimdall glaring at you being your only interaction.
Summary: Congrats! You died. And you got a promotion.
The last you remember, a sense of true powerlessness fell over you, before a sharp, stinging pain rippled through your back. The world came to a halt, and your vision goes black.
What feels like only a moment later, your eyes snap open and you suck in a deep breath, like a drowned man taking in air for the first time in months. The pain in your back is replaced by an almost unbearable soreness, helped tremendously by the soft bed below you. You lay completely still, every bone in your body frozen, muscles tense in a state of flight or fight. Where are you? You don't recongize this bedroom. You rack your brain for an explanation that won't come, until a voice interrupts.
"Ah, you're back. Good." Too quickly, you sit up in bed, your back protesting. In the doorway of the room is a man. He's old with grey hair and an eyepatch. He's familiar, you think. From portraits and statues, but you don't want to make assumptions, and his build looks smaller- frailer than you imagined. "You have talent, it would've been a shame to lose something like this so soon." He brings your attention to a worn leather journal he was reading. Your journal. Your most valued possession, in the hands of someone else. Before you can act on the new found panic, the man chuckles and tosses the book to you. The short lived fear evaporates and you flip through it to make sure nothing was messed with.
"What's going on? Where am I?" You ask with shakey breath, looking back up at the man.
He shrugs, "Well, you died." He answers in a matter-of-fact tone. "But I brought you back. You're welcome."
"But... how?" The words don't settle as they should. You're too tired, too stunned to really understand. What does resonate is that the power the man possess if he's telling the truth comfirms your earlier suspicion is correct, "All-Father?"
"Yes, that is what they call me." The god says with a smile. It must be obvious after a short silence that you're not in a clear state of mind, so he continues, "Look, I know it's a lot to take in. Not every day you're brought back to life and meet a god, eh? Why don't you take some time. There's a water basin to wash your face, and a wardrobe full of clean clothes. Nicer than anything ya got in midgard, I promise. Once you're ready, come talk to me in my study. Just down the stairs, you can't miss it. Sound good?" You respond with a small nod. Being in the presence of a god has rendered you speechless, it seems. He claps his hands together, "Good" he hums, and walks away from the room.
You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You're really in Asgard. You just met a god. It seemed unbelievable, more likea dream than reality. At any moment you could wake up back in Midgard, in some rundown tavern with a pissed-off barkeeper tending to you because you drank too much. That sounds far more realistic than any of this. With a pained groan you slowly drop your legs off the side of the bed and stand up. You stretch as much as you can bare, slightly relieving your injured back. If this is a dream, this pain could've fooled you.
You have in mind to head to the wardrobe, but you pause to take the rest of the room . It's small, but you don't figure you'd need a big space. On the wall by the door, there's an array of instruments lined up, mostly string instruments you're familiar with, like a tagelharpa and rebec. A flute laid ontop of an overturned crate- which there were a lot of in the room, making it seem only half decorated. Some drums sat on the floor, though you had never played them as much as a lyre, which was the only instrument you couldn't be seen anywhere in the room. There's a desk pushed up against the wall opposite of the instruments, with a blank scroll open on it, and a crate full of more on the floor nearby. It's odd how the room seems almost designed for you.
You make your way to the wardrobe at the end of the room, in the middie of the wall. Throwing open the doors, you're met with an array of tunics, cloaks, fur coats, belts, gold jewelry, and more. You peel off your brown tunic, shoulders aching as your arms raise to lift it over your head. "What in Hel!" You yell, dropping the garment and stepping away. The entire back of the shirt is drenched in dark red, old blood. You reach behind you, clawing at what you can reach for an injury, or blood, or a scab. Besides the soreness you're already accustomed with, there's no other evidence of a wound. Odin's words repeat- you died. "How could I have-" your voice fades out. You died. You hear it in All-Father's nonchalant tone, and you feel like you're hearing it- actually understanding it for the first time. Things don't feel like a dream anymore, not even a nightmare. All at once everything feels too real. Your breath quickens, you sink to the floor and clutch your heart. Does it even beat anymore? Are you really alive? What does it mean to be brought back to life? You grapple with hundreds of questions, your mind spiraling.
Soon you remember the basin, and all you can think is how good the cold water would feel on your skin. You scramble to it and splash your face with water. It's refreshing and grounding, helps remind you to breathe. You stare into your reflection, hands on either side of the basin supporting your weight as you lean over it.
There's some small scars litter your face and upper neck, nothing bigger than a nick or a cat scratch, and they're hardily noticeable. The same scars are scattered across your hands too, if you look closely. You're relieved to see you don't look bad. Your skin isn't a different color, your eyes are the same. The scars are the only new addition. You don't remember how you got them, though. If you think about it, you realize you can't remember much of the weeks leading up to now. Maybe even months of your memory are gone. You know the important things- your name, your home, family and friends. You know you traveled a lot, reciting poetry and playing music anywhere that would pay you. But besides that blurry flash of pain, you can't remember much.
You stand up again and return to the dresser. The All-Father has requested to meet with you, and it's not something to take lightly. You know he would have an explanation and answers to your questions. You need to keep composure and stay focused to speak with him. You slip on a simple white tunic and pants- as simple as clothes get in Asgard, anyways, each garment adorned with golden embroidery. The clothes fit perfectly, and you try not to wonder how or why.
You shake off the nerves one last time before pushing open the door. Even though the lodge looks homey, it still makes you feel small. You're glad the hall is empty, keeping your focus on getting to the study without distractions. At the bottom of the stairs, the door is ajar, and you can hear Odin talking to someone inside. You knock on the door, with no response. You decided against waiting outside, anxious to get answers to your death and resurrection, and figuring if it were something important they could've shut the door properly. So you slip in, and await patiently by the entrance.
There's a man talking to Odin. You try not to eavesdrop but you pick up bits about an object Odin wants the man to get, and the man being reluctant to do so though he doesn't out right refuse. His dialect sounds much more sophisticated than most you meet, even Odin. He's facing away from you, but you still draw inspiration from his beauty. His golden hair woven in neat braids, the confidence in his posture, and the wit in his voice. You come to a simple conclusion that he seems nice, and would be a good subject for a poem.
Odin seems quickly annoyed with the boy though, and his expression brightens when he sees you. "Ah! There's my poet!" He stands from his desk, raising his arms to gesture to you. "Come in, please! Heimdall, you're dismissed, we'll continue this discussion later." He lowers his voice to address the man.
"But All-Father, I-" Heimdall starts, cut off by Odin, louder this time.
"Dismissed!" Heimdall doesn't protest this time, but it's clear he wants to. He turns on his heels and starts towards the door, his gaze locking with your's as he leaves. Even though he was clearly glaring at you with an unparalleled hatred, your mind sparks with analogies for the prettiest eyes you've ever witnessed. Like shimmering amythests in an otherwise baren cave.
"Ignore him. He doesn't do well with strangers." Odin says with an eyeroll, "he sees things for me, ya know." He mentions like a bad pun you're supposed to understand. Heimdall is familiar, though. You've heard stories of him- the keeper of Ghallerhorn and a protector of Asgard- but you never imagined he'd be like that. "Come, sit! We've got losts to talk about. You've had an eventful day afterall." You listen to All-Father, walking up to the desk and taking a seat. "I'm sure you've got questions. Hit me!" All-Father says confidently, and the way he talks both perplexes and comforts you. He acts too casual to be a god.
There's no better way to phrase it, you think after a moment of quiet as you try. "Am I really dead?" You finally ask.
The AllFather answers, "Don't sound so sad about it. You've been resurrected! A new lease on life." He tacks on, "And I assure you, there's no long lasting side effects. Some scars, yeah, and I'm sure you've noticed some soreness, but that'll heal as normal. Probably." All-Father thinks for a minute before adding, "Though immortality can be considered a side effect, I suppose I should mention that." He sounds like he's bragging to you. You've accepted a great offer, it sounds. Too bad you weren't conscious during the decision making.
"Immortality?" You repeat. It's so hard to speak to Odin. You would've expected his mannerisms to be so much different than he acts. He seems eccentric, he could talk to himself for hours if he wanted. He knows what people want to hear- or at least tries to guess- staying in a constant neutral zone so he appears likeable to a wider audience.
"Yeah, well. We all die someday." Odin says with a sigh and a shrug, "What's a few extra years, huh?" He chuckles, you force a smile. He must do this kind of thing often. It's strange to have someone so postive and confident in front of you while you're so uneasy about it all.
"May I ask, why did you bring me back?" You decide to ask, shifting in your chair. You trusted All-Father to do what's best for everyone- but you couldn't see how revising you could affect anyone but yourself.
"I heard of you. A talented poet and musician from Midgard, some even described you as a god. I wanted to see it for myself. I thought it was a real shame when I heard of your passing." Allfather explains with a shrug. While you knew people enjoyed your works- nothing could match the honor you felt walking into a tavern and hearing someone recite one of your poems- but you had never heard anyone refer to you as a god. You didn't think you were worthy of that title at all. The All-Father slowly stands up, and starts to pace behind the desk. "And I figured, entertainment is an important part of any society, wouldn't you think? Well Asgard may be lacking in that department. Fighting, training, drinking, and so on can only be fun for so long." He turns back and raises a hand to you. "Someone with your talent could really lighten up the place. I was hoping, maybe, you'd be interested in being a bard- the bard- of Asgard."
"What?" Was all you could say, completely stunned. You were a starving artist in midgard, no where near being Asgard matieral. You wondered if maybe during the gap in your memory you had improved drastically- if the height of your poetic talent died when you did.
"Well, it's just like you did in Midgard. Write your poems, sing your songs- inspire the people of Asgard. Though you might have to pander to your audience a bit, write about the gods, maybe help me with a few studies-" He nearly mumbles it, glossing over things that might be unsavory for you. He continues, "In return you can live here in the lodge." He shrugs, "I could pay you, but money won't have much value while you're here." He chuckles.
"And if I refuse?" You ask. You didn't think you could. You knew you couldn't. This just felt too good to be true. Odin resurrected the wrong poet or something. But you didn't think All-Father was capable of making such mistakes, was he?
"Then you can go back to Midgard and do whatever is you want to do there." Odin dismissively waves a hand at you. His tone is somewhere between indifference and disappointment. "Though I can't see much there for you now." He says it like it's a jab at you. You suppose he's right. Midgard is no place to live right now. Your job barely made ends meet no matter how good you were. And what would your friends and family think of all this? Did they know you died?
Even if you don't feel worthy, the cushy lifestyle is something that's impossible to give up once it's offered. You nod sagely and stand up, outstretching an arm to Odin. "Yeah. I accept." You smile softly and nervously.
Odin's mood is instantly lifted as he shakes your forearm, "Wonderful!" He laughs and walks around the desk to you. "Say, why don't I bring you on a tour of Asgard, show you around?"
"That'd be great." You say, following him to the door. You'd hate to get lost in the new realm, and you're eager to see what inspiration you can pull from Asgard. A series of panicked squawks From behind startles you and makes you jump. One of Odin's ravens sits on a wooden stand nearby, flapping its wings. You glare at the creature, and All-Father seems equally annoyed.
"Huginn, what have I told you about sneaking up on me like that!" The bird answers with more squawks, "What? What do you want! What is it you blasted bird!" Odin huffs in annoyance, seemingly letting the bird talk for a while, "Uh huh. Uh huh. I understand." He says half heartedly, and you wonder if he actually understands what it's saying or is just responding to comfort the animal. "Yes, I get it. I said I know!" He turns back to you with a heavy sigh, "I'm truly sorry, something's just come up that I gotta sort out."
"I understand. I can wait for you to get back-" You suggest, though you really don't want to, and would probably sneak off within minutes due to boredom anyways.
"No, no, I'm sure you'll make do on you're own. Explore a bit, make friends. Just don't wander to far alright? And try not to die again, eh?" Odin chuckles, though the words catch you off guard. You're almost offended by joke.
"Allfather, do you know how I died?" You blurt while you're on the subject, realizing you meant to ask earlier.
Odin hums and answers, "It's better not to think about thar, child." His tone is sympathetic, and with a sigh you realize he's probably right. Nothing would change by knowing. A flock of ravens surround Odin, and when they disappear, so does he.
You sigh and leave the room feeling defeated. You quickly find a room upstairs similar to a cafeteria. A few people are scattered around the long tables, talking, eating, and drinking. The murmurs are familiar to you, and you set your journal down at an empty corner of the table. You're used to writing in noisy taverns, but you don't feel like walking far and getting lost.
Your thoughts returned to Heimdall as you prepare to write. You know with your new position you'll have to write in a more formal structure soon, but for now you focus on scribbling down whatever comes to mind.
"He is crafted from wealth
His brilliant eyes were carved from shimmering amythests
And gifted to show one's truest intent
The one with golden teeth speaks
With a tone of eloquence
His blonde hair in intricately woven braids
Similar to engravings on a well-loved bow
A protector of Asgard,
He is truly priceless."
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yes-divine-ruler · 16 hours
✵ Christmas Traditions (Evan Peters x GN!Reader)
24 Days of Evan Peters - Day 7
Little baby imagine for my 7th day of 24 days of Evan, a bit rushed but we gotta get something out there.
Words: 717
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“Y/N! It’s snowing again!” Evan grabbed onto my hand and dragged me to the window, propping his face against the glass and looking outside. I laughed at his eagerness to watch the snow fall, enthralled by his cuteness.
“We have to go outside,” he pulled me towards the front door, sliding a beanie onto my head and wrapping me in my snow jacket.
“It’s so cold Evan,” I whined, as he put on his own beanie and threw his hood over his head.
“I’ll keep you warm I promise,” he pouted at me, his eyes as wide as a puppy’s, his hands together as he begged.
“Okay fine,” I smiled at him as he punched the air, tying his snow boots and opening the front door. We were instantly hit by the freezing outdoor temperature and I was already sniffling.
He grabbed onto my hand and led me outside. He let go of it, stretching his arms out and cupping his hands, trying to catch the snowflakes as they fell.
I watched him as he laughed and collected snow, and my heart skipped a beat from how much I was in love with his man.
“Come here,” he said, holding out his arms. I trudged over to him in the already 2-feet deep snow, wrapping my arms around his warm body. He held me closely, before I leant up and pressed our noses together.
He leaned down and kissed me softly, pulling away moments later to lift me up, and throw me over his shoulder.
“Evan!” I protested, laying soft punches into his back as he took me out further into the snow, finally dropping me so I was laying, back first, on the cold ground.
“Time for my angel to make a snow angel,” he cheesed, laying down next to me and spreading his arms and legs out, carving an angel shape into the snow.
I followed, and when I was done, I reached for Evan’s now cold hand and held it. The snow continued to fall over us, but I closed my eyes, trying to forget the bitter air that blew over us and savour this moment.
“Let’s go back inside now, I’m soaking wet,” he spoke suddenly, getting up off the ground and pulling me up with him.
We ran back into the house, my body instantly relaxing as I stripped off my layers of clothes and felt the warmth of our heater.
I looked back outside, at our snow angels and let out a fond laugh.
“We’ll make more tomorrow don’t worry,” Evan said, now in the kitchen with two mugs on the counter.
“What are you making?” I asked him, as he reached up into the pantry and brought down the jar of mini fluffy marshmallows.
“Hot cocoa, what else?” He teased, as I walked over to him, joining him in the kitchen and wrapping my arms around his waist, my face smooshed into his warm back.
“Sounds great,” I hummed, following him around the kitchen, attached to his back as he put together our hot cocoas.
Steaming from the mug, he handed me one, taking a quick sip of his own as I waited for mine to cool down.
“You’ll burn yourself,” I told him, but I knew he was just impatient to warm up after our escapade outside in the cold.
“Yes, mom,” he said with a small smile, leaning into me again to give me another kiss.
“I love you, my little snow angel,” he mumbled against my lips. He already tasted like chocolate.
“I love you too you big goofball,” I joked, cupping my hands around the mug and blowing down on the drink in hopes it’ll cool down quicker.
“Now that it’s snowing, Christmas movie,” Evan was a man of tradition, and snow to him meant that Christmas was in full swing, and we needed to do as many festive activities as we could straight away.
So the Night Before Christmas it was, huddled up on the couch next to him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he invested himself fully in the movie he’d watched countless times before.
And even though I’d seen it just as much, I couldn’t get sick of seeing it because of how happy it made Evan.
Taglist: @v-love @evanpetersfav
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doctorcrowleywho · 2 days
December 6. Christmas Cuddles (10th doctor x gn! reader)
25 Days of Ficmas - Day 6
Christmas Cuddles (10th doctor x gn! reader)
Word count -  1537
Warnings - None just tons of fluff
Pairing(s) - 10th doctor x Gn! Reader
Summary - Movie night leads to the cutest moment
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Traveling with the doctor made everything a little bit more complicated. There were times that you thought you had died and gone to heaven because surely this wasn’t your life! Surely you weren’t fighting aliens and monsters and everything in between. But, somehow it was your reality and you loved every last second of it. 
You loved being able to save all of those innocent beings, you loved the thrill of running for your life hand in hand with a handsome timelord, you loved the excitement of waking up wondering what new planet you were going to wind up on, and you especially loved your doe-eyed, sticky uppy haired timelord.
That's right you had fallen head over heels with the Doctor. There was something so utterly fantastic about him, that you couldn’t help yourself. He was like the painting museums kept hidden in the very back, not admired by everyone but the ones who saw the beauty in it enough to stay were truly lucky. The TARDIS never took him to where he wanted to go, but only where he needed to go. And, she took him to you- you of all the creatures and being in the universe.  You felt lucky enough that he picked you as his companion, although he would always say that you picked him. 
This was the biggest mystery in the whole entire universe to you. But, you decided to thank your lucky stars she had deemed you worthy of him. 
Your relationship with the Doctor was interesting to say the very least. There would be fleeting glances, small touches, and most importantly…movie nights.  Because, if the Doctor was one thing- he was a sap when it came to seeing you happy.
Nothing seemed to make you happier than having a weekly movie night. A simple time where you two were able to stay in and enjoy each other's company and simply be in the stillness. At first, the Doctor absolutely hated it. He was a time lord for heaven’s sake! He was meant to be running about and fixing things, but you quickly changed his mind. Especially once the Christmas season rolled around. 
There you were in your very fuzzy large hoodie in your absolutely favorite color, or your  “movie night hoodie” as you deemed it. You had made yourself a makeshift fort amongst all the blankets the Doctor seemed to have in his movie room. Even though you’ve spent what felt like years with the Doctor and his little blue box, you still find yourself constantly surprised by new things. The excitement seemed to practically burst out of you as you wiggled in your spot on the very large couch. 
The best part about tonight was that it was your turn to pick the movie. Last week the doctor picked ‘A Muppets Christmas Carol’, which he claimed was an utter classic (and he was absolutely right). It was honestly adorable to see him get so passionate about something for you, something so very human. It warmed your heart to see someone who had the universe at his very fingertips willing to pay attention to you and what you liked. 
Tonight you decided to pick one of your all-time favorite Christmas movies ‘Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer’. This was the movie you were brought up on as a child, and even though your childhood had some rocky patches in it this movie always brought up wonderfully warm nostalgia. 
Slowly your head moved back and forth as the title credits began to play. You could practically feel the Christmas spirit swell up in your belly like some kind of Christmas magic. Funny how pure moments from our childhood can make us believe in magic all over again.
“Please tell me you didn’t start it without me!” The Doctor peaked his head into the room as he carried a tower of snacks with everything from popcorn, candy, and even some perfectly balanced mugs of hot cocoa in his arms. 
Your eyes flicked over to him as they widened with anxiety. “Doctor I swear if you drop any of that-” you sighed as he raised an eyebrow at you before setting everything down on the coffee table. Smugly he gave you a ‘you were saying’ look as you picked up the blankets and he snuggled up right next to you. 
Sometimes you forgot just how affectionate this regeneration of his was, and honestly, you didn’t mind. His ninth regeneration was kind, but never like this. He never curled up to you like a cat desperately seeking warmth. But, ten on the other hand…well he was a completely different story.
“No of course I didn’t start it without you, the opening credits are just a mile long, so I thought we’d get those out of the way,” you said as you kept nodding your head along to the music
“Ah, how smart of you, no wonder I chose you as my companion.” he hummed wrapping one arm around yours and resting his head on your shoulder. When he was this close it made you want to confess every last thing you felt for him. But, something always held you back and you always let it. 
Trying your very best to ignore how fast your heart was pounding you turned your attention to the movie and forced yourself to get lost in it. Everything was going perfectly until- 
“What do you mean they won’t let him be a dentist!” The Doctor exclaimed sitting up straight with concern in his eyes. He looked like a golden retriever who just lost his favorite ball, and it made your heart utterly melt. 
“Well they want him to be an elf just like everyone else is, he has to make toys for Santa, or else no one thinks he’s any use.” you tried your best to explain but it seemed fruitless. 
“NO USE?!?! Y/N dear there’s plenty of use for a dentist at the North Pole! Do you know how much sugar those elves digest on a daily basis?” he said taking a couple of sips of his hot cocoa.
“Oh just watch the movie spaceman.”  you playfully rolled your eyes as you patted the spot next to you again, and happily, he settled back down. This time resting his head in your lap. Oh the things this alien does to you
A little while later you were on the part where Rudolph decides to sacrifice himself if needs be and rescue his hometown. Glancing down at the Doctor a small smile formed on your lips as you saw how intently he was watching the movie. Absentmindedly, you started to play with his hair. Then all of a sudden you heard a soft “Y/N?” and you froze. 
Gently, he reached up and grabbed your hand encouraging you to keep going “No no please don’t stop, I um erm um I like it.” he choked out awkwardly but it warmed your soul nonetheless. So, you kept going and could practically feel him relax into you. 
It was peaceful moments like this with the Doctor that you’d always valued. There was nothing quite like being able to sit on the couch and make the man who always runs relax for a couple of moments. Not every person can claim they’ve managed to tame the Doctor, but you proudly have. Even if it was just a little bit. To you, it meant the entire world- no the entire universe.
There you two laid, a tangled mess of Christmas warmth and love, even if it was just platonic love you were okay with that. For to be loved by the Doctor in any fashion was the greatest kind of them all. As the end of the movie played neither of you dared to move from your spots. Too scared you’d break the magic that seemed to be surrounding you. 
You two blushed a light pink as you laughed at the awkward moment. Slowly, he picked up his head from your lap moving closer to you. His eyes held a mixture of fear, love, worry, and adoration. Somehow you could tell that it was all for you. After a long silence, he finally blurted out something he’d been dying to ask since you bumped into the TARDIS.
“Can I kiss you?”
Without even thinking you quickly nodded moving impossibly closer to him. Your heart was racing faster and faster, and to be honest you were a little concerned that you’d have a heart attack. Then, as if out of a dream, it finally happened. 
His lips collided with yours in a beautiful sympathy, and you knew for sure then that you truly loved him. His kiss was everything you ever dreamed about and even more. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his hand got tangled up in your hair as he smiled in the kiss. 
As you two pulled back for some air you both wore the same dopey love-sick grin. “Merry Christmas Doctor,” you whispered gently.
“Oh merry Christmas my shooting star,” he replied stealing another kiss from you…and another….and another….and- oh you get the point.
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thewriterg · 2 days
♡︎𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐬♡︎
pairing(s): JJ Maybank x gn!reader, Pope Heyward x gn!reader, JJ Maybank x Pope Heyward
summary: You, Pope, and JJ stay the night in and have a gingerbread house contest even if you didn’t win being surrounded by the embrace of your lovers was enough to make your night —advent calendar day; 5—
word count: 660+
warning(s): Gingerbread house making, pet names, kisses, fluff, Shrek references, Poly relationships, and language
A/n:—GIFS; @obxhub— “Denial is a River and Egypt your husband is gay.” 🤨
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Your back pressed up against the leg rest of your couch while you sat on the floor a piping bag filled with uncolored white frosting sat in your hand as you used the piping tip as a glue for your last touches of candy
“No, no, no forget that. The real question is… is the Nightmare Before Christmas a Christmas movie or a Halloween movie?” JJ redirected the debate him and Pope were having for the fourth time in an hour
“It’s both!” You and Pope exclaimed in unison
“It’s both!” You and Pope exclaimed in unison
“How can a movie be two completely different genres!?” JJ argued a pack of marshmallows in his hand as he munched on the sweets rather than using them to decorate
“J There’s so many examples like romance comedy’s, supernatural and action, or Sci-fi and fantasy” You listed as Pope nodded along with Your statement in agreement
You had all been laying around your house like this for a while four hours at most you had a pretty short day at work but it was first shift and you only worked six hours 9:00am to 2:00pm so it wasn’t that bad
Or so you thought.
You had one of the worst customer experience’s ever with a women yelling about not getting the right straw for her very plain hot coffee followed by a very well overage man who couldn’t take the hints that you had quite literally turned into down right telling him to fuck off and he was being a pedophile
Once you got off you shift you couldn’t bring yourself to go to chateau you were too overwhelmed to deal with social interaction with this unusual behavior and hour after your shift you had your two boyfriends on your doorstep with reassurance and open arms
So now here you all were sitting in your living room making gingerbread houses and you were quite sure of yourself that you wouldn’t rather be anywhere or be with anyone else
“I’m almost done” Pope stated into the open not taking his eyes off of his house adding a few more swipes of frosting along the border of the cookie home you hummed just then adding the last candy on the side of your roof your house making coming to an end
JJ not paying attention finished first abandoning the idea after twenty minutes and settled on eating the sweets rather than decorating them his house was… something for sure now he just played with the string of your his sweatpants that sat on your hips
“Anddd… done!” Pope finished with a smile on his face proud of his work while you clapped for his creativity and he playfully bowed putting a hand over his heart a whipping a tear from his eye while You giggled
“You guys suck” JJ mumbled rolling his eyes while you pouted at him before pinching his cheeks as is he were a toddler smiling bright at a candy store
JJ playfully glared at you before leaning towards your face thinking the blonde was going in for a kiss you didn’t think anything of it until he took a full you turn swiping his head down taking a bite out of one of the gummy candies
“Not my gumdrop buttons!” There was a moment of silence before you all burst Into laughter the type that made you haul back and cry tears
“W- what was that” Pope forced himself to speak which only lasted a few seconds before he was back to clutching his stomach doubled over
“Y-you just gave Gingy a run for his m-money” JJ laughed once more before finally sighing his heart beating and banging against his chest without remorse lying his head down on your shoulder
You followed behind him lying you head down on popes shoulder while he laid his head on top of yours the random Christmas movie playing as background noise you all Falling into a sleep to each it’s own.
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quinnkasih · 1 day
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Genshin Impact Christmast Special Oneshots !
Enjoy the christmast spirit with Genshin Characters! Individually or together!!
ahhh this is so sudden and not planned T.T but if you want to suggest a prompt for this series, just send an ask!! <3 and if you want to join the taglist, request in the replies.
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cat!scara x collegestudent!fem!reader "Christmast With The Grumpy Cat"
Scara lives with you. He thought that his fur is enough to warm him up from the cold, unfortunately not. He needs your help with warming up!
childe x gn!reader "Christmast With The Villain's Family"
You made a bet with the ginger-harbinger. If he wins today's spar, he could bring you with him to Snezhnaya to have christmast with his family. But if you won, you are able to pick ANY christmast present you want!
venti x gn!reader "Christmast Isn't Always About The Decorations And The Spectacular Tree!"
Usually couples in Mondstadt would enjoy their holidays with fancy decorations and delicious meals. Sadly, Venti, your lover, wasn't able to afford all those fancy things. Tho christmast to him is to be able to spend time with you.
noelle x gn!reader "A Help In The Kitchen"
With christmast coming soon, the Knights Of Favonious have a plan for a special event for Mondstadt. And of course, that means more snacks and food. They depend on Noelle and you for the cooking bussiness. Sure it would take some time to cook for everyone, but together, nothing is impossible!
klee and gn!reader (platonic) "Special Christmast Gift For Mr. Dodoco!"
Albedo, Kaeya and Jean seems to be busy preparing for the Knights Of Favonious christmast event. You are tasked to accompany Klee. Klee said that she is planning to give Mr. Dodoco, a friend of hers, a gift! Wait, whose Mr. Dodoco?
yoimiya x gn!reader "Fireworks For Christmast?"
Fireworks are much more often used for new years. But Yoimiya wants to try something new! Will you help her?
xiao x gn!reader "Christmast?"
The immortal adeptus never cared of mortal's stupid events. Especially the days where they make up this fake tree and add some eye blinding decorations, too much. But he seems to have a different view of this celebration ever since you entered his life.
various characters x gn!reader (platonic) "A Day For All To Remember"
Christmast is in the air! A special christmast event is going on in Mondstadt. Everyone, from Mondstadt or not, is invited!
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TAGLIST (30 blogs, you can request in replies!)
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youseeingthis · 10 hours
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kimbap-r0ll · 2 days
May I have a request for Kurapika and Leorio?
Where s/o have emotional wound?
((I have it too real life and it’s hard to deal it- 🥲))
Hi, thank you for the ask! I'm sorry you're going through it, hope it gets better soon ;-;. The two characters are almost opposites, so it might be a bit more angsty for Kurapika
Kurapika, Leorio helping s/o with an emotional wound
In all honesty, especially after the events of Yorknew, I don't know how much time you two will share together with how much emotional baggage the two of you have. It might almost be better if the two of you stay away from each other for a while since it might end up draining your mental health more
But, if he's not being negative or almost nonexistent (his revenge path causes him to go missing often), he'll do everything he can to help you. He knows what it's like to carry an emotional wound and he doesn't want to see you go through it
Knowing that you might be all that he has left as family or considers close enough as one, Kurapika cares deeply about you. He'll be there to listen to you, though he may not say much in return. If he's away he'll try to give you calls when he can (a rare phenomenon considering how much calls he ignores from his friends)
Though he can be a comforting person, especially with his soothing voice and his calm demeanor, sometimes it can be hard to communicate with him when he's in his own darkness. The two of you likely are healing together
Kurapika can be the most supportive person and the person you can trust with your life, that's for sure. However, one thing that you may encounter is his tendency to be detached from everyone else or cutting communications off completely, especially when he boards the Black Whale.
The complete opposite of Kurapika, he's a literal therapist and the best one at that. He'll listen to you, support you, comfort you, whatever it takes to make sure you're mental health is doing well
Sometimes he might be over-the-top with trying to help you (such as getting you a box of your favorite snacks) but know that he truly wants the best for you
If you ever want to talk to him, he's available 24/7. He's a medical student, so he knows what it's like to pull all-nighters and he wants to be a doctor that everyone and anyone can reach out to. If you call him at 2am because you really just need to get something off of your chest or even just a few words of kindness, he'll pick up
He worries you may end up like Kurapika depending on your situation. Because of this, he might worry a little too much, even when you're feeling better. He might constantly be around you, but just remind him that you need some time for yourself.
Overall, Leorio will be there for you and is probably the best person to reach out to when you need help. He's shown to care for everyone, and for you he'll always be available.
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honeybeewritings · 3 days
✰ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: thunder, slight anxiety
✰ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: caregiver!remus lupin x little!gn!reader
✰ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 620 words
✰ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: remmy helps you through a storm and gives you lots of cuddles &lt;3
✰ 𝐀/𝐍: for @mad-elia and every little who gets scared when it's thundering and every little who wants remmy to take care of them &lt;3
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remmy had told you that there was gonna be a huge storm that night. you knew it was gonna scare you too.
thunder was always scary.
remmy had gotten all your blankets, pillows, and stuffies and made you a blanket fort! he also got his tablet so you could watch movies together!!
blanket forts always help!
you were helping him too. you got all your favorite books! you also got coloring books and crayons and bubbles and stickers and puzzles and your headphones. they play music and block out thunder!
"alright pumpkin, ready to rock?" he asked, waving a hand to tell you that you could go inside the fort.
you giggled and nodded happily at him. "yay! rocks!" you squealed, causing your caregiver to chuckle.
"not quite sweet pea. i mean, are you ready to be brave?" remmy asked, crawling in the fort with you.
remmy ruffled your hair, making you pout, and gave you a forehead kiss. "it's alright pumpkin. wanna watch a show?" he asked.
"where's bagels?" you asked. "need 'im bubba," you frowned.
remmy pulled out the bear and handed him to you with a smile. "here you are sweet pea. now, what show?"
you cuddled up next to him and watched him tap a brightly colored button and one of your favorites came up. "that one!" you squealed, accidentally clicking on the animated show.
"anything you want sweetheart. wanna color?" he asked, turning to get the coloring book and crayons you brought. "or would you rather a puzzle?"
you stared at remmy, slightly confused, for a few moments. "s'it my... my octonauts one? wif da... da... vegimals?"
remmy nodded. "uh-huh! your favorite pumpkin."
you nodded excitedly, making remmy put his hand on your head. "careful baby, don' wanna give yourself wiplash."
"'m not a baby!" you argued. "'m a big kid!" you told him.
"okay kiddo." he chuckled, taking the top off the puzzle box. "c'mon, let's do the cute octonauts puzzle."
you laid down on your stomach with remmy and helped him find the corner pieces. then all the edge pieces. he helped you put it together and you were happy when you two finished it.
unfortunately the storm came later and it started thundering right as you finished the puzzle with remmy.
"bubba?" you asked, reaching for him but not able to find him. it made you want to cry since you couldn't find him.
he put is hand on your back and rubbed it, helping you calm down a bit.
"i'm right here pumpkin, right here." he reminded you, laying down next to you. "here, pick another show?"
you nodded and jumped at the next loud clap of thunder. you teared up a little and nuzzled into remmy's side. "here, wanna watch bluey?" he asked, pushing a couple of buttons and bluey turned on for you.
remmy had helped you on your back and let you rest your head on his chest as he held up the tablet for you.
thunder claps.
you whimper and jump.
this happens for a couple minutes until it clicks in his mind that you probably need your headphones. "c'mere pumpkin." he lifted your head, which wasn't hard since you were watching bluey closely, and put your headphones on.
you looked up at remmy and could feel yourself talking, hearing yourself a little, but still pouted.
you watched remmy push a button on the side a couple times and you could hear it now. "tanks bubba."
you felt him say something through his chest but you didn't know what he said.
soon you fell asleep on your bubba, stuffie in hand, comfy and forgetting about the storm.
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rfaromance · 2 days
Hi! :D I just saw that your requests are open again (which is awesome!!) so I was wondering if I can request a (super weird but don't judge me XD) scenario where Ray finds me having a meltdown on my first night at Mint Eye (crying because of feeling overwhelmed) because I really hate new, unfamiliar places, new people, and of course, being kidnapped XDD
...I know it sounds so weird but it sort of makes sense in my head because I have to go away from home for a while really soon and entirely alone, which I've never done before and I'm just....really scared about it
I guess the Mint Eye thing sort of makes sense in that way because you didn't want to go but ended up being there anyway ??
...I don't even know what I'm saying XD
But it'd be so so nice if you could do a scenario where Ray finds me like, hiding under the duvet and blankets and sniffling because I don't wanna be too loud in my sobbing XDDD
And I know even though I'd be teary and totally freaking out on the first few nights there and Ray didn't really gain confidence until much later but
I'd just really love to get some (a lot of...) comfort from him
Like a hug even though he (both of us) are so timid and shy
Or even just a little whisper that I'll be okay
I'd be okay with anything;; :) XDD
Hi anon! Sorry this took me so long. I hope you're doing well, and I wish you luck on your new adventure!
In hindsight, you might have been a tad too hasty.
You laid on your back, sinking in the soft, fluffy pink duvet as if you were floating on a cloud. The large, elegant windows allowed plenty of natural light to pour in, illuminating the room in a warm, peachy glow as daytime dwindled into twilight. The velvet chairs and elegant paintings surrounding you, combined with the glittering chandelier and walls the color of April, made you feel as though you were royalty in a castle.
This room was your kingdom, and Ray promised himself to be your prince charming.
If that was the case, then why...
Why did your eyes sting and why was your throat choked with stress and strife?
The offer of free room and board in exchange for simply testing a video game was too tempting to resist. If Ray had specifically requested you, then that meant it was a task that was suited to you, right?
But his honey-sweet words and serene seafoam eyes could only keep you placated for so long. Now that you'd had time to be alone and truly think about your situation, you were terrified.
What kind of fool blindly takes an escort to an undisclosed location? By the request of a stranger, no less! Ray had set you up to live lavishly while you assisted him, but his insistence that you follow his script and stay confined to this floor (of how many, you had no clue, because you hadn't been permitted to remove the sleep mask until you were indoors) raised more questions than answers.
Ray was kind and charming, in his bashful way, but you didn't know him. He didn't know you.
You didn't know anyone here, and suddenly you felt hopelessly small, like a silly lamb who'd been rounded up by a wolf adorned in magenta wool.
That was the feeling that was overwhelming your senses, causing you to curse the orange and pink hues of sunset and to loathe the vast expanse of this picturesque room that felt painfully empty. Fear had taken a vice grip on your heart, and as you floundered to catch up with all of the details you could recall and all of the mistakes you'd made, your body found its release in the best way it could.
You threw yourself under the layers of bedding until the light was finally blotted out. You needed silence and darkness if you were to calm yourself, but as you gasped for air between sobs, you found yourself heaving like a fish out of water. Every breath in this room felt thick, dangerous, suffocating. You hugged your knees into your chest, making no effort to wipe the saltwater or the snot dribbling all over your face. You were spending all your effort on keeping yourself conscious as your sobs became louder, your wails choppier, and your sniffles more frantic. You tried to grab a few layers of sheets in your hand to muffle your sobs, but the way that your entire body trembled with each cry, you couldn't be sure that the sound was any quieter.
You were absolutely terrified, and you had nobody to blame but yourself. You chose this, didn't you? What an idiot.
You were an idiot who was all alone on what you thought was cloud nine, but instead was a delusional mirage.
The last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself, as pathetic and vulnerable as you felt right now. So when you heard soft footsteps and saw light beginning to peek into your cave as your comforter was pulled back, you almost passed out from shock.
Cautiously pinching your blankets and gazing at you with minty blue eyes that pierced the darkness of the room, now only illuminated by starlight, was none other than Ray.
Was he angry? Disappointed? What would he do if you expressed your doubts? Would he resent you? You didn't even need to say a word; surely the sniveling, shivering mess in front of him would be enough for Ray to figure out your feelings.
He reached out with his other hand, and you winced as you braced for impact.
But all Ray did was simply pat you on the head, his gloved fingers gently stroking through your hair.
You couldn't see his face too well in the dark, but you could have sworn that his gentle smile looked... sorrowful.
"Does this help?" he murmured, and his hand stopped moving as he waited for your response. When you nodded in affirmation, he then resumed, stroking your head rhythmically. "May I ask..." He paused, as if uncertain how to proceed, or whether he should proceed at all.
Tentatively you crawled further out of the blankets, until you were sitting at the edge of the bed with the messy heap of duvet and sheets wrapped around you like a cloak. Ray lowered himself onto his knee in front of you, and with a pang of guilt you realized his eyes were fretful, not furious. Was he worried about you?
Could you be bold enough to assume he was worried about you?
"Change can be scary," he said suddenly, his voice light but strained. "The world is full of darkness and evil, of liars and traitors, and that makes change scary. You never know what to expect." He lifted his hand for a moment, but quickly he lowered it back by his side. "I want to be happy, to be free of pain. And..." His hand came up again, and this time he brought it towards you. It hovered above your knee for a moment, and you realized that he was quivering. "I want you to have peace and joy, as well. You deserve an eternal paradise."
He moved to take his hand away again, but before he could, you reached a hand towards him, grabbing his fingers before he could withdraw completely.
Even you were taken aback by that sudden, brash display, but... something about the way Ray spoke encouraged you. He made you want to believe in kindness, in wonder, in paradise.
"I'm scared," you confessed at last, hoping the tremors in your chest didn't reflect too heavily in your voice. "New situations overwhelm me. But... I'll do my best to help you." You slid your palm into his and gave his hand a firm squeeze. "I don't want to let you down."
Even in the faint light of only moon and stars, you could have sworn you saw a flash of crimson flush across Ray's pale cheeks. He smiled, more warmly this time, as he whispered,
"I promise you won't, my prince(ss)."
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White Christmas
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Winter Whumperland: Day 4. Holiday Lights Show (comfort prompt)
Fandom: Press Play, Harrison Knott, gn!reader
Summary: Since moving to Hawaii a few years ago, you have missed the cold and snow, especially around Christmas time. Your boyfriend Harrison finds a solution to this problem.
Word Count: 1645
TW: Fluff, Pure fluffy fluff
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He didn’t tell you where you were going. He just said he would pick you up at 7 in front of your house. Harrison was always surprising you with things like this and he had never disappointed before. So, as soon as you got home from work, you changed clothes and made sure to be standing on the curb at precisely 7 o’clock to wait for him.
At 7:02, your boyfriend’s car turned the corner and pulled to a stop in front of you. Harrison quickly jumped out of the car and hurried to your side.
Pressing a quick kiss on your lips, he said, “I’m sorry I’m late. I had to pick up something and the line was longer than expected.”
“I was just about to give up on you and go back inside,” you teased. “But I guess I can let it slide this once.”
He grinned as he took your hand and led you over to the car. “Thank god. But I think you will agree the wait was worth it.”
He opened your door and waited while you climbed into the car. Once situated, he slammed it shut and walked to the driver’s side. You noticed two Starbucks cups nestled in his cup holders, steam still rising from the holes in the lids.
After Harrison climbed into the car and shut the door, you wrapped your hand around the back of his neck and drew him into another kiss. When you parted, you muttered, “You were right. It was worth it. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like it. Front one’s yours,” he said, nodding to the cups as he started the car.
Removing it from the holder, you raised the cup to your lips and took a tiny sip. The liquid was very hot and you only got a fleeting taste, but you could tell instantly it was perfect. Your exact favorite order down to the last detail. 
Harrison glanced over as you attempted to take another sip. “Did I do good?”
Whipping some stray liquid off of your lip, you nodded. “You did fantastically! Though, isn’t it a little hot out for this?”
Though it was the middle of December and at night, it was still currently over 70℉ (21℃) outside. While you weren’t complaining about the constant warm weather, you did sometimes miss the snow from your childhood, especially as it drew closer to Christmas. It was what you missed the most since you moved to Hawaii a few years ago. Christmas Day spent in shorts and a t-shirt still felt wrong to you.
But Harrison just smiled coyly. “I think it’ll be fine.”
When you tried to press him for more information, he told you to just wait and see. So, you flipped on the radio before settling back in your seat. Christmas music began playing and soon Harrison was singing along softly. 
Resting your head against the passenger door, you closed your eyes as you let his voice drift over you. He wasn’t exactly what you would call a traditionally good singer, but there was something about the low timber of his voice that always put a smile on your face and left you wanting more. But today, between the warmth in your stomach from the drink and the long hours at work, you soon found yourself drifting off to sleep.
The next thing you knew, you felt something lightly brush your cheek. Then Harrison’s lips slid closer to your ear as he muttered, “Wake up, sweetheart. We’re here.”
Your eyes fluttered open to find Harrison’s face just inches from yours. Smiling softly, you mumbled, “Sorry about that. I guess I was more tired than I thought.”
Harrison sat back in his seat. “That’s okay. It just added to the surprise.” 
As he opened his car door and climbed out, you looked out of your window to see where you were. The car was parked in a fairly full parking lot outside of a large building. It looked like a stadium or convention center of some kind but there were no visible signs around to give you more information.
Your door opened and Harrison helped you out of the car. He reached back in and grabbed both drinks before handing yours to you. The cup was still warm to the touch though you didn’t see any steam rising from it anymore. So you probably hadn’t been asleep for that long.
You started to follow the other people around you as they headed towards the building, but Harrison grabbed your elbow and gently guided you towards the back of the car. Opening the back hatch, he said, “We’re gonna want these.”
You stared in bewilderment as he revealed two fairly heavy jackets, two pairs of gloves, and two beanies. He handed one of each to you before pulling his beanie down over his wavy locks with a grin. Glancing around, you noticed for the first time that the other people in the parking lot were similarly dressed, all bundled up for the sort of weather that never occurred here. Even more confused than before, you decided to just go with it and you put on the jacket Harrison offered you. 
After putting on the gloves and letting Harrison put your beanie on for you, the two of you headed towards the entrance of the building walking hand-in-gloved-hand while also carrying your drinks. When you reached the building, Harrison grinned as the two of you approached the automatic door, his eyes never leaving your face as he waited to see your reaction to whatever this place was. With a deep breath, you took a step forward and the doors slid open.
Immediately, you were hit in the face by a freezing blast of air, much colder than was usual for public buildings. But it made sense the second you stepped through the door. There was a ticket booth just in front of you with a sign that read “Welcome to Santa’s Winter Wonderland”. Beyond the booth, you saw snow (or some artificial variety) drifting slowly down from the ceiling in the main lobby that was connected to a dozen or so different areas all dedicated to different activities: ice skating, snowman building, a display of ice sculptures, indoor snowball fights, a reindeer petting zoo, Mrs. Claus’s milk and cookies, meet Santa. It was almost too much to take in all at once.
You could feel Harrison’s eyes still on you and you turned to him, your mouth slightly agape. “What is this place?”
“Apparently, you aren’t the only one who wishes Hawaii got more traditional Christmas weather. So, this place gives you the chance to do all that cold, snowy, winter stuff right here. And the best part is when we’re done, I don’t have to deal with driving home in the snow,” he teased.
Tears began to fill your eyes but you quickly brushed them away. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you squeezed Harrison tightly. “Thank you. This is amazing! It’s all the things I miss about the holiday season all in one place.” Releasing him, you looked wildly around the room. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“It’s completely up to you. This place closes at midnight after a big light display.” He slid his hand into yours. “So, for the next four-ish hours or so, show me what it’s like to have a white Christmas.”
And show him you did. You decided to start by looking at the ice sculptures as the two of you sipped on your drinks. Once they were empty, you dragged Harrison to the ice skating rink though he gave up after only a few minutes. He decided he was much better on the waves than the ice. But you never felt his eyes leave you as you continued to twirl and race around the rink on your own. Then the two of you challenged a few teenagers to a snowball fight that you lost horribly. It turned out there was more of a learning curve than Harrison expected when figuring out how to make a decent snowball and the two of you left that area soaking wet but laughing. Despite Harrison’s difficulties with snowball making, the two of you then built a pretty decent looking snowman. You chose two bright blue buttons for its eyes and joked that it took after Harrison.
Though there was still more you wanted to do, it was getting close to midnight and an announcement was made that the holiday light show was about to begin. The crowd had thinned out as the night went on and there weren’t that many other people left which allowed the two of you to find a secluded spot in the corner to sit and watch the upcoming display.
As the lights began to dim around the room, you leaned your head against Harrison’s shoulder. “Thank you for this.”
He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in closer to his side. “I know how much you’ve missed the cold and snow for Christmas. And while I might not have been able to give you the real thing, I thought you might enjoy the closest thing Hawaii has to offer.”
“It was perfect. For the first time since I moved here, it really feels like the holidays again. And the best part was that I got to share it with you.” 
You reached up and pressed your lips to Harrison’s just as the first light display shimmered to life, casting the room in the bright glow of reds and greens. Harrison smiled against your lips and kissed you back so lovingly that you felt a warmth in your chest despite the cold.  
Though neither of you could later recall any specifics from the light show itself, you both agreed it was your favorite part of the night.
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