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moonslittlestar · 2 days

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Art by Taejy_

Outside the world around them stirred, heavy rain crashed against the stained glass window. Every so often the loud claps of thunder shook the room, and bolts of lightning lit it up brightly. It wasn't night yet, though the clouds shrouded the city in darkness, the streets oddly quiet for early evening; normally around this time they'd be bursting with life, young child selling Baldur's Mouth newsletters, calling out to the city folks that walked past them as if they were invisible, all making their respective ways home or to local bars.

This one was a hot spot for the working class to retreat after a long day's work, yet under the room on the second floor everything seemed rather silent, something Moon was not used to in his stay at Sharee’s Caress. The brothel was normally packed, full of songs and live music and so much chatter he found it difficult to hear his own thoughts the majority of the time. The peace the storm brought was a welcomed guest.

In his room a fireplace on the far wall warmed up the cold air around them, granted there wasn't much of a room to warm up, but it was something. The crackling logs under flame were just loud enough to come through the sound of rain tapping against glass, and the golden glow flickered faintly against the wooden bedframe, silk sheets and soft skin.

•°•°•°•

Moon had become quite fond of his little room at Sharee's Caress, although the patrons did leave something to be desired about the place (most of them overly horny drunks with no manners and bad tempers) but the staff were nice and after Moon paid off his debt for a few smashed glasses and a broken chair during the first week of his stay, they seemed quite fond of him too.

He'd not been planning to stay this long, but something about the white haired elf kept him around, or rather, something about him kept the white haired elf around, neither were sure who was keeping who around but neither had any complaints. Their personalities entwined like the finest elven chainmail; a bond that seemed completely unbreakable, almost as if they were destined to meet… if you believed in such things, which neither of them did. Mortals were off limits, but this one, this one…

Moon placed his lips gently upon Astarion's forehead and smiled to himself. This one was worth breaking the rules for.

When he started seeing Astarion more, Moon found himself wondering if this is how his mother fell for his father, if they broke the rules of man and God(dess) because feelings had become involved? Were they fated? They say that nothing good ever comes from bonding with mortals, but maybe it was different for him? He wasn't a true God anyways, so maybe it didn't count?

•°•°•°•

They lay over the covers, bodies entwined, on a king size bed on the opposite side of the fireplace. The bed was entirely too big for the room, but that had been Moon's magic at work, as the original bed was far too small for him.

Moon’s back rested up against the mound of cushions with Astarion pressed against him, his leg wrapped around Moon's, and Moon's tail wrapped around Astarion's leg. His left wing cocooned Astarion in a delicate embrace as Astarion nuzzled his head into the crook of Moon's neck.

The scent of arcane Jasmine permeated the air around them as Moon projected a canopy of stars above them with his free hand. A soft blue hue washed over them in pulses as Moon's magic left his fingertips, his horns glowed, following suit.

“It's beautiful!” Astarion smiled, watching in awe as the night sky danced over them. He raised a hand, his fingers joining the dancing of the stars that faded around his fingertips, though it was cold in there, a strange electric current prickled at the back of his hand and his fingers as they swayed back and forth, “I don't get to see the stars much here, not like this.” He mumbled, his focus drawn to the starry sky above him. “They look so real… like I could just reach out and touch one!” He continued, waving his hand around loosely in them some more before placing it back around Moon's waist. “I wish I could see the stars like this every night” he sighed lightly. A shooting star shot past, almost too quick to see it, another followed shortly after.

Moon hummed slightly, twisting his hand and turning the sky a little, “it is real… well, sort of I suppose?” His voice was smooth and calm.

“Sort of?” Astarion raised his head from Moon’s chest and cocked an eyebrow, “sort of, I suppose?” He asked in a silly mocking tone.

Moon nodded slightly and hummed again, “They were once, it's a memory projection. My first night down here...” His voice trailed off. “They look much different when you are amongst them, down here they look so… small.” He continued after a long pause.

Astarion rested his head back onto Moon's chest, a small huff escaped him as he contemplated how difficult it must have been for Moon to lose so much, to be thrown out, cast aside and have nothing, not even a name. “Luán,” a sense of sincerity attached to his words, “Thank you, for showing me this.”

Moon nodded in acknowledgement and placed another kiss softly upon Astarion's forehead.

This was the most intimate they had been since they began seeing each other more regularly.

•°•°•°•

Astarion had been told of Moon's descent, how he'd been disowned and denounced as son and heir; how he'd fallen from grace. But not through Moon, he'd heard the stories and the songs; “The son of a Goddess and a mortal blacksmith, a great warrior born to fight for honor whenever summoned. The son that fell to Faerun and had his name stripped from him. The Demigod that was unwelcome and unworthy of that title.” They did not speak much about Moon's past, for Moon didn't like to bring it up.

Astarion understood that Moon had gone through a lot and had roamed Faerun for an unfathomable amount of time, fighting in wars man had started. He may have been cast down, but he could be summoned at any time and he was tied to his duty by a golden string. So was the life of the son of a great Goddess, even if she didn't recognise him anymore. Astarion hadn't dared ask which stories were true and which were rumors, he didn't care much to find out either.

Mostly, they fucked; had their fun and parted ways. Emotional intimacy hadn't been a part of the equation. But this, this felt… nice?

After a few moments of silently watching the projection, Astarion kissed Moon's neck, just under his jaw. “I like this,” he smiled against Moon's skin, “I don't know what this is, but I like it.”

Moon's tail wrapped around Astarion's thigh tightly and the glow in his horns brightened as if to say “me too”.

#bg3 fanart #tales of: moon #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 oc #bg3 ocs #bg3 tav #tav bg3 #bg3 dark urge #astarion x tav #astarion x durge #moonslittlestar screenshots

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versary · 2 years

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i'm just spending all my free time at the moment saying farewell to people and places and it's really just sinking in now that this time in two weeks i'll be in melbourne

#i've lived here for the last twelve years #it's the longest i've lived anywhere #it's the place that feels most like home which is so strange because it didn't for years #and i really struggled to find my places and people #so it feels so difficult to leave #and i know people move interstate and overseas all the time i know i know but #i've never belonged anywhere the way i do here

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railingsofsorrow · 8 months

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Recharging. . .

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: spencer's best remedy is his little family.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader (+ eden reid!)

w.c: 3.8K

warnings/content: fluff; cuteness overload; children; spencer is a girl's dad; discussion of a case; mentions of death and traumatic events; this is basically a hurt/comfort blurb; mentions of pregnancy; mentions of marriage; crying.

A/N: is anybody in need of some fluff? this was supposed to be a short drabble.... enjoy this old WIP as I finish some of my requests.

loosely inspired by ocie elliott's take me home

want to read more works about this au?

→ day-off

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You stopped the low humming to the song as you eyed the rearview mirror to check on your kid. The familiar scratching against your seat warning you she was awake.

“Hey bub,” you take advantage of the red traffic light to dive your hand back and tickle her bare feet. She'd always kick off her shoes the first chance she got. Your favorite sound echoes through the car: her giggle. “You were just napping, where'd that energy come from?” you refer again to the tip of her feet bumping against your car seat. Another reminder that she was getting bigger every day.

Eden raised her arms, wriggling her little fingers like she did when she was excited for something. You were pretty sure she got that from Penelope, you always saw they do this whenever she came over to your place.

“We're visiting daddy!”

A laugh bubbles out of you. Eden left you amazed by her perception of things. Although the route from your apartment to the BAU wasn't that strange for her anymore, given that you and Spencer drove a lot to drop each other off with her in the car.

“Are we?” You turn on an avenue, humming. “I didn't notice.”

Eden looks at you through the rearview mirror, “but you're driving, mommy. You need the GPS. It's in your head.”

“Is it?” You're amused at your toddler's choice of words. “Okay. Yes, we're visiting daddy at work. We've come to pick him up because he's very tired from a case and it's not good to drive while you're tired, right?”

“Right!” She nods vehemently, craning her neck to check on the view through the window. “And he needs me to recharge his bats.”

You finish parking your car and a smile curls up the edges of your mouth. Eden can't say the word batteries so she shortened it to an easier version which is bats. You still have to teach her what the word actually means.

“That's right,” you say, taking off your seatbelt and opening the door. By the time you reach the backseat, Eden is grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her excitement never ceases to rub off on you, even though you enter this building most of the days in a week. “Hi, baby.” You cooed, welcoming your child in your arms after unbuckling her seatbelt. Her light brown curls that you have no idea who she got it from tickle the side of your face as she snuggles to your chest to stare at the tall FBI building.

“Shoes on. Coat on. All warmed up. Shall we go up?”

An eager Eden exclaims a loud YES and that's enough for you to start walking.

From “Spencer”:

[6:34 p.m] No need to pick me up, angel, I can drive. I am not that tired.

[6:35 p.m] Is Eden still at your mom's? I can pick her up on the way.

This is the mutual feeling you have on workdays. Not in a million years you'd understand how hard it was to be away from your daughter for more than one day. Until it happened.

It makes your heart break when you're not able to tuck her into bed or pick her up at school to see her excited little legs run towards you. In spite of the fact that Spencer and you manage well to alternate days at work so she always has one of you close by, it's difficult to not see her every day when a case takes either one of you out of the city.

You can only image how much he misses her after being away for four days.

You left the messages unanswered and click on another chat instead. Light of my life with a bunch of hearts is the one you're looking for. Penelope somehow stole your phone someday and changed her contact name to this; you never changed it back, just left as it was, it suits her anyway.

“Smile.” You request Eden as you lift your phone to take a selfie of the two of you. Her grin exposes her two missing front teeth. “Done.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her in your hold to type another text, waiting for the elevator to reach your desired floor.

To “Light of my life 💗❤️💕”

[6:38 p.m] incoming at five... four... three...

You hit send right as the elevator doors spread open.

Just as you step into the bullpen, it's as if a switch has flipped because your daughter promptly tucks her face into the croak of your neck, her cold nose making your shiver slightly. Her hands clinging onto your blouse.

Eden gets shy under watchful eyes, no matter how many times she visits the BAU.

Penelope is walking briskly out of her office, her hands wriggling into your direction as she catches sight of you and the bundle in your arms. Every eye in the bullpen turns to you because of the commotion.

You haven't seen your husband yet.

“There is pumpkin!” That's the reason that pulls Eden out of her shell. She practically throws herself out of your arms and into her favourite aunt's arms. “Oh, hello, hello, my beautiful niece, whom I have missed so much!”

Eden is giggling and you can't help but smile softly at the scene. Soon, your friends start approaching one by one. It doesn't take long for Eden to have at least two new toys in her hands. Emily and Derek are competing which one she likes best.

“She's so big.” JJ entwines her arm with yours.

You sigh, leaning closer to her, “Yes, she is.” You say, observing Eden play with Emily. “Henry as well! How is he by the way? We haven't had a playdate in so long.”

JJ nods, “He's great, my sweet boy.” Her eyes hold a fondness that you relate. “And that's true. We have to set up a date, catch up on things that aren't murders and blood.”

“Preach, Jayge.”

Your laughter dies down when the two people missing from the group appear. Your eyes met Spencer's and his whole body seems to relax as if it physically pained him to stand and seeing you just helped him take a breath of fresh air. Luke greeted you with a side hug and was immediately captured by Eden's endearing spell, as expected. Although, once Spencer entered her line of sight, no one else mattered.

Spencer let his satchel drop to the ground without a care so he could scoop Eden up as she jumped into his arms. His sullen demeanor converting into a cheerful one in a blink of an eye. This is what Eden means by “recharging”.

You watch the reunion with a growing smile, deciding to approach them a little later.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Spencer says while peppering kisses at her cheek, her little nose and her forehead. Eden could only reply with giggles as her whole face became red at the overwhelming love she's receiving. “Daddy missed you so much, did you know that?” And the crack in his voice goes unnoticed by her, but not by you, so you take advantage of everyone's distraction to step towards your little family.

Eden is giving her dad a butterfly kiss when you get to them. That's her way of saying I missed you to any of you when you come back home.

“Hey,” you squeeze his arm in a gentle touch, grabbing his attention. “Tough one?” your question is discreet, only meant for him. Eden is fortunately too busy with her new stuffed toy that Derek is showing her to notice anything else.

The dimmed spark in Spencer's eyes along with the red outline of his eyelids are everything you need to know. You don't need words — you never needed words to understand Spencer — but he provides you a meek yeah and swallows hard. The only thing that seems to be holding him back from crumbling down is the fact that he's holding his daughter.

In an attempt of comfort, you pull his free hand to yours, intertwining your fingers and giving it a tight squeeze. Just for him to know that you were there and it's okay now.

He repeats the action, the corner of his lips pulling slightly. His attention is quickly stolen back to Eden, who starts listing possible names to the new friends that uncle Derek and auntie Emily had gifted her.

They discuss the matter until you bid everyone goodbye, a playdate, a babysitting afternoon and a girls night out scheduled. Trying to take Eden from Spencer was foolish, he didn't want to let her go. No matter how tired he was. Better yet, she didn't want to let him go either.

“I think grapes would be a great name, E.” Spencer praises her daughter's naming skills as he buckled her up in the safety seat. “What about this one?” He grabs the green bunny and places it in front of his face, his voice in a high-pitched tone to imitate an animal's voice. “What will you name me after, miss Eden Reid? I am green and I like carrots!”

Eden's bright caramel eyes glint with joy and she pulls the bunny to her chest, holding it tightly. “I know what I'm going to call them.”

“You do?” You were starting to be curious as well.

“Mr. Greenie.”

“You're so clever.” Spencer and Eden shared accomplice smiles and you see everything of him in her at that single action. It was in the nose scrunch whenever she found something particularly funny, in the spark of mischief in her eyes and even the outline of her mouth which you never stopped noticing from the moment she was born. Eden carried a lot of mannerisms and features from you but those things? They definitely came from him.

He's not even halfway to the driver's side when you steal the keys that he had stolen from you when you were in the building. You've known each other for ten years, for three out of those ten you have been married and Spencer still thinks he can be slick with you.

“You're riding shotgun today, pretty boy.”

His eyes are filled with amusement as you walk by and give his butt a soft squeeze.

“Really?” He says, leaning on your window. You had already turned the engine on when you give him a serious look. “It's a long drive. You already drove all the way here.”

Giving him an eyeroll, you muse, “It's not that long, Spence. And you're tired. Just get in.”

Quantico wasn't far from your home, but ten minutes in the road was enough to send Eden to dreamland. You were certain she had fallen asleep when her humming to Angeleyes, that was playing on the car radio, stopped.

You suppose Spencer has fallen asleep as well, until you stole a glimpse at him during a red light to see he was just staring out the window. A far away gaze.

His mind was far. You could feel that. You two enjoy the silence but it's not like that. This is not the kind of silence you want to bask in after a tiring day of work. No, this is different. It comes with the type of things you face at work, the voices in your head that claim they know what's best.

You know that silence. You've drowned in it once.

A gentle breeze caused a few strands to slip out behind his ear. He was letting his hair grow longer again. You liked it, it suited him.

“Hey.”

Your knuckles grazed his cheek softly, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. Your hand lingered at the nape of his neck and he let out a sigh, leaning back in a way that you knew he needed that kind of touch.

Good thing your love language is physical touch.

“You want to talk to me about it?” A whisper.

Spencer refrained from a verbal answer, but he reached up for your hand, lifting it to his lips to place a prolonged kiss which translated to I'm glad to have you.

“Not now,” he said, caressing your palm. Definitely later then. Your communication can be non-verbal sometimes and that's one of the great parts of your relationship. You knew that some days words were hard, so the touch and the eyes fulfilled the void of a voice.

He gave it a delicate squeeze and that's when you realized the light had turned green, so your attention was back to driving.

At some point, you could feel a comforting weight at your right thigh. It was the familiar warmth of Spencer's hand, something that he liked to do whenever you drove. Good thing his love language is physical touch.

“I got her.” He practically leaped out of the vehicle once you parked, walking around the other side to get Eden.

Your asleep child didn't so much as flinch while being picked up. You caught her little arms embracing his neck as you locked the doors of your car, her shoes on your hand and Spencer's satchel on another. He tried to fight you on that but you just ignored him.

“Sleepy head,” you mouth to him as the elevator went up. Eden's big eyelashes fluttered lightly when you kissed the top of her head.

The corner of your husband's lips quirked up, “Just like her mother. Sleeps anywhere.” He said, not breaking eye contact, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Rolling your eyes, you hummed, “Don't know what you're talking about.”

The apartment was quiet, an unusual occurrence at this time of the day. Normally, Eden would be rambling about her day when one of you arrived from work — I learnt about seagulls today and we made a drawing; grandma made cookies!; Teacher Susan read a story about a princess saving her kingdom, I want to be like her someday. Isn't it like what you do, mama? I want to be like you — a range of subjects mixed with her occasional endless energy of a child. Some nights, she wouldn't stop running around until she tired herself — and both of you — off.

Today was different. She was asleep before you even arrived home, it was way before 8 p.m and the apartment was quiet, no toys scattered around, no ink stain on the floor. She was into painting nowadays which is a rather messy hobby for a kid, but you'd indulge your daughter's wishes anytime. She is a kid, she should be messy.

“I love you, bub.” Your ears pick up Spencer's faint voice from the entrance of Eden's bedroom. You perched up at the wall, careful enough to make yourself unknown. Not wanting to disturb the little father-daughter moment. “I'll always be here.”

That was something that didn't need to be said out loud because Spencer showed that every day. He didn't spare love demonstrations regarding you or Eden, he never had. Although you know part of the reason beneath that promise. Some people haunt us forever, even when they are no longer present in our lives. His father still walks somewhere in the corner of his mind, no matter how many times you tell him that he is not him.

“Is the whole bathroom drenched or...?”

Spencer chuckled, seeking for your hand to pull you closer as you stride to your bedroom.

“It wouldn't be Eden if she didn't make an entire spectacle during bath time.” He said. “But I cleaned it up, so don't worry.”

“That's true.” You eye his soaked shirt attempting to contain a smile. “Guess you already took your shower?”

“You're so funny,” Spencer murmurs dryly.

“Yeah, well,” you shrug nonchalantly, slowly encircling your arms around his neck. “Wasn't that why you married me? Or was it for my good looks? Nah, it was definitely my terrific sense of humour, wasn't it?” A peck on his lips. “You can admit it. I won't be mad.”

“Ego the size of a lake, that one.” He mumbles, burying his face in the croak of your neck and practically locked you in his hold.

You started to message on his shoulders to ease whatever felt heavy in his chest. At least, until he let you in.

It wasn't until after you both showered separately to finally call it a day and laid down to rest that he broke his silence.

“A little girl died. We couldn't get to her in time.”

Oh, kids.

Now it all made sense.

A shiver went down your spine at the thought.

“Oh, Spencer...” if the tone of your voice translated anything, it was that you understood. His body was entangled to yours when you tried to diminish a bit of his pain by showing that you were there. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” you said into his curls. The moist sensation in your pajamas top let you know he was crying, but you didn't give it a second thought. It was what he needed.

“I could only think of her and I—” he said shakily, suddenly leaning away to cover his face. “Any rational thinking went down the drain.” His croaked out, drying his tears in the harshest way possible. You pulled his hands away from his face, replacing it with your softer touch.

“Spencer.”

“I can't even— even grasp my head around—”

You cut him off, “good. Don't do that. Because it's not real. Spencer,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you so he could focus on something that wasn't the disruptives thoughts in his head. “Eden is here, in the room next to ours, safe and sound.” That seemed to calm him down lightly, but you could see the conflict in his gaze.

“I wasn't fast enough.”

“It was not your fault.”

“You weren't there.”

You sigh, “I don't need to physically be there to know that you, as well as the team, did your best to crack the case, Spencer. As you do in every other case we have.” The hardest part of this job was still the loss that you had to live with. The guilt. The shame that, despite doing your best, you wouldn't be able to save everyone. “As we always do.” Sometimes, you needed some convincing too.

“I know it's hard to believe what I'm saying,” you forehead was touching his and your eyes were shut. “but it's the truth. You have every reason to feel that way, it never gets easy to face what we face every day. But, Spencer. It was not your fault. You did what you could, please trust me on this, okay?” Please, don't blame yourself. You don't deserve it.

“Our little girl is right next door, sleeping with her favourite plushie. Safe. Because we make sure of that every single day.” You know it's not that simple, to not doubt the dangers that run in the world, probably in your street, but you can't live in fear and you don't want your daughter to live in fear either. “And I'm right here. we're not going anywhere.” You won't lose us.

“Yeah,” he croaks out, releasing a batted breath. “Yeah, I know.”

Slipping an arm around your middle to bring you closer was the indication you needed to understand that he was hearing your words. Your husband settled for accepting your warmth for the time being, you were playing with his curls, gently brushing them away from his face.

That's all he needed, really. You. The home and family you have build together. Nothing else.

“You know,” you say, thumb traveling across his jawline until it reached the tip of his nose. “People keep saying she has your nose and I think I'm starting to see it.”

His body shook with laughter, causing his eyes to crinkle slightly.

“Oh, really? You're starting to see it now?”

Your lips curled up at the edges, “Yes.” You lied, poking his ribs, earning a glare. Your smile only widened. “No. The nose is clearly yours.” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

Spencer leaned close enough so he could press his lips to yours.

“She has the outline of your mouth, though.” He tucked a strand behind your ear. “And your eyes.”

Soft padding against the floor pulled you out of your trance and you knew who was at the door before looking through the open space of the door that's been left ajar.

“Is that a ghost that I'm seeing, angel?”

You decided to enter Spencer's playful undertone.

“Mhm. Good question, I think that's definitely a squirrel or something. Look at the red and yellow paws.”

Eden's mismatched socks flashed your eyes in the dim light of your side table lamp. Her soft giggling made you smile instantly.

“What are you doing up, sweetheart?” She curled up to his bare chest as soon as he scooped her up to hold her on his hip. “Mhm?”

She grabbed both of his cheeks, forcing him to lean down so she could say something to him. You observed them with a curious gaze. “It's not a squirrel,” Eden whispered. Spencer's face broke out into a grin, “tell mama it's me.” Spencer nodded and dutifully did as asked.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, acting surprised. “It's you, bub? With these tiny socked feet, I almost didn't recognize.” Eden's shrieks as you pepper her whole face with kisses. “You want to sleep with mommy and daddy tonight?” It's your turn to whisper as if it's a secret, but it's loud enough for Spencer to hear it as well.

Eden nods shyly, resting her head on her dad's shoulder. Her feet wriggling lightly. Who could ever resist those sweet doe eyes?

The three of you then lay down in your bed, Eden engulfed between Spencer and you. Hopefully, she wouldn't kick and turn all night like she commonly did. She was sleeping through the entire night alone in her bedroom, though some nights — like today — she would sneak in to yours.

Just like you expected, the toddler fell into dreamland with your soft chatter about random things you did during the day and what you needed to do during the upcoming week. You cracked a smile at her slight parted lips and wild curls dispersed on your arm which her head was laid on.

“Thank you.”

Your attention drifts from a sleeping Eden to Spencer. His eyes carried their usual light again. They now glinted with a familiar pride rather than the heavy darkness it was drowning in earlier in the evening.

“What for?” Your whole demeanor softened at the way he was looking at you, heart swelling with love.

“This,” he says, eyes falling on Eden. “For this. Her. You.”

You blink, the sudden urge to cry is being hold back by a thread. You don't know how to react.

“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” And he's said that before. When you first confessed and he said he felt the same. In your wedding day. When Eden was born.

“And you are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Spencer.” You manage to whisper beneath the crack in your voice. He lifts his torso to kiss both of the single tears that slipped out of your eyelids, caressing your cheek lovingly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.” His mouth stretches into a soft grin. “And I love the life we have built.”

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taglist: @lilyviolets

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A/N: will never forgive the show for not making this man a dad.

#spencer reid fanfiction #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #thinking of making this a series #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds imagine

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yoursweetwife · 1 month

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warning: female reader, mostly fluff, mentions reader wearing dresses,

synopsis: Ratio has his own ways of showing his love

p.s some thoughts on how Veritas can take care of the reader because he is clearly very terrible at words

What Ratio does best is talk. Regardless of the topic, he will always find something to say, the words themselves will flow like a river, making an indelible impression on those around him.

However, when it comes to love, he becomes completely quiet. Rarely can you hear “I love you” or “I missed you” from his lips; most often this happens in very intimate and important moments, when he leaves his pride behind and completely surrenders to his feelings.

It's hard to say it didn't bother you. You perfectly understood what kind of person he was, and you didn’t blame him, but it was sad when Ratio just nodded when you said you loved him, or didn’t offer verbal support when you needed it, because you were capable of handling it on your own.

And he didn't lie! Ratio knows that you are a strong and capable person who has achieved everything on his own, so small problems shouldn't bother you, right?

And it seems hypocritical, considering that he constantly took advantage of your love. You always knew how to comfort him, even on his worst days. However, words remain just words, while actions speak volumes about more.

Most of the time, Ratio can't find the words to praise the new dress that fits you so wonderfully, or to say words of comfort when something bad has happened in your life.

But if you didn’t know him so well, you wouldn’t notice how his eyes begin to sparkle every time he notices your new outfit or hairstyle. A slight blush appears on Ratio’s cheeks, and his eyes hesitate to meet your smug face.

Or how his confident facade crumbles when he sees you after a long absence. No matter which of you was on a business trip, Ratio always brings pansies to a meeting and gives them as if nothing had happened, as if he had never read about the meaning of the flower.

And how he uncertainly looks at your crying figure from the doorway. And at the same moment he is next to you, offering comfort in the form of a hug and a kiss on the head.

Ratio's big hand constantly holds any part of your body. In public, his hand will intertwine with yours so as not to “lose you,” or he will place it on your back to gently nudge you in the right direction. It's hard for people to tell if he's enjoying it, but you can definitely tell that Veritas is enjoying it, it's easy to tell by the way the soft smile, meant only for you, spreads across his face, and by the gentle pressure on your hand.

And his most favorite action is to place his hand on your soft thigh, be it at home while you are relaxing on the sofa or bed, or in a public place, so he always sits next to you to make it easier to reach, basically this is a very innocent action , although sometimes he wants to go a little further.

Far from human eyes, it is very difficult for Ratio to stop physical contact. Unfortunately, he became too addicted to it. Previously, the only way for him to relax and clear his brain was bathing, but now all he needs to do is find you, hug you and bury his nose in your fluffy hair.

There's no use trying to loosen his grip, and who would want to refuse this big guy who's looking at you so pleadingly. You were always amused by his manner of sitting next to you and glancing in your direction, quickly turning away when you looked at him. A clear sign that he needs hugs and kisses.

And even bathing began to feel strange without your presence. And this makes Ratio nervous, because the bathroom is the only place where he could clear his mind, and now his head is filled only with how empty the space between his legs feels, where you usually sat.

Veritas always reads a book before bed, and he takes it seriously, but he really enjoys reading while his head rests on your stomach, thighs, chest, using them as a makeshift pillow. However, his favorite position is when he is sitting and you are lying on his chest, resting your head on his chin.

The sight of your sleeping body is the best way to end the day. It’s a pity that you can’t see his soft smile and loving gaze at this moment. Just like your happy face doesn’t reach his eyes when he says three cherished words.

Ratio doesn't know how to express emotions in words, but his actions speak louder than words.

#dr ratio x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #female reader #dr ratio #dr ratio fluff #hsr #honkai star rail

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avatar-anna · 3 months

Text

Save a Horse...

2024 Masterlist

"Reading anything interesting?" Harry asked as he entered the den, your favorite place to read.

Holding your Kindle to your chest, you said, "Uh, I guess. I only just started it, so."

Harry raised a brow skeptically as he sat in the loveseat across from the bay window where you sat. "Really?" he asked. "You've been in here a while."

"I—I got stuck on my phone for a while," you said. "You know how it is."

"Hm."

Not saying anything else, Harry picked up his own book and opened it. You watched him for a moment, brows furrowed. As far as you were concerned, he was working all afternoon. You didn't typically mind, you took the quiet afternoons to run errands, tend to your garden outside, try out new recipes, and read.

Most of the time, you read. Harry had always known you to be a bookworm, the first time you met you had a novel in your hand and one in the bag over your shoulder. Books were how you communicated—gifts just because, as a form of apology, ones you thought you might enjoy together, which rarely ever happened. You left them in places for Harry to find like his guitar case or his carry on when he left for tour, and he put novels in different purses of yours or among the stacks on your bookshelf to see if you'd notice the new addition.

It was safe to say that both of you loved to read, but quiet afternoons like this were typically ones you enjoyed alone, specifically so Harry wouldn't see you blush or question what it was you were blushing at.

You glanced down at your Kindle, at the paragraph you left off on. "Jack shoved Delilah against the barn's door before ripping her blouse wide open to reveal her bare chest. Buttons scattered against the floor, but Delilah didn't care, not when Jack kissed a searing path toward her—"

"You know what? I think I'm gonna start on dinner," you said, clicking your Kindle shut before standing up.

Looking at your boyfriend was the wrong move. Harry lay stretched out on the loveseat, his shorts riding up on his thighs revealing more of his toned legs than you would've liked. That wasn't the first...steamy scene in your book, and let's just say looking at your very sexy boyfriend wasn't curbing the feeling of need coursing through your veins.

Harry definitely wouldn't have been opposed if you crawled into his lap right now, but he'd ask questions, questions that were too embarrassing to answer.

"Dinner?" he asked, setting his book down in his lap. His reading glasses, which had been perched high on the bridge of his nose, slid down, his hair adorably rumpled. If you hadn't known he'd been in his home studio all day today, you would've guessed he'd just rolled out of bed. "It's one o'clock, baby."

"Or nap," you said, hating how skittish you sounded. "Maybe take a nap. I don't know, I'm not really feeling like reading right now."

"Well, that's a first," Harry said, his voice slightly teasing. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing!" you insisted, though you answered a little too hastily, and your voice might've been higher than usual. Scratching the back of your neck, you tried to quell your heartbeat. "Nothing. Why—Why would you ask that?"

"Because you're acting...strange," Harry concluded. A small smile flickered at the corner of his mouth as he looked you up and down. "It wouldn't have anything to do with the book you're reading on that thing, would it?"

He nodded toward the Kindle in your hands with a raised brow. It was a little too pointed, as if he knew exactly what you kept on it. You and Harry both enjoyed the feel of a physical book in your hands, but you had an e-reader too. For convenience, you told Harry. And it was convenient. Your Kindle was light, you could carry a library in your purse and it barely weighed a pound, and it conveniently hid your most scandalous book titles.

"N—No," you said, fighting the urge to hide your Kindle behind your back, or chuck it across the room until it broke and was unusable. "Like—Like I said, I'm just not in the mood to read."

"Okay, I'll join you then. I'm a little tired myself."

Harry stood up and stretched his arms high above his head, his t-shirt rising with him. Your eyes zeroed in on the sliver of skin that revealed itself. Tan, tattooed skin, taught with muscle, a light trail of hair that led into the waistband of his briefs. Your cheeks were already flaming red from the situation at hand, but seeing his skin, seeing Harry be...Harry without even trying was too much. You thought you might combust.

"Why?" It was a stupid question, one you knew Harry saw right through.

"Why are you so eager to not hang out with me?" he asked back, his eyes narrowing. "And what's got you so flustered today? Has Jack ravished Delilah again?"

"Wh—What?"

Harry smirked at you, his eyes filled with mischief as he nodded at the e-reader in your hands. "Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. I know what you keep on there."

What? "Since when? And how—how do you know about—"

"You fell asleep reading last night," Harry explained. "And the Kindle was still on. I mean, I've always had my suspicions because you're always blushing when you've got that thing in your hands, but I got curious."

"I—You—You snooped—"

"I'm sorry, baby. I wouldn't have looked if I knew you'd be upset about it," he said, stepping closer. "But you shouldn't be. Nothing to be embarrassed about here."

You looked down at the socks on your feet instead of Harry coming closer to you. He said there was nothing to be embarrassed about, but you couldn't help but feel it creeping along your skin. You didn't do anything wrong, but you felt dirty for some reason, like you'd gotten caught doing something you knew you shouldn't have.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you said, "So, are you going to tease me about it or what?"

"Nothing to tease about, baby. I already told you that. I just didn't realize you had a thing for cowboys, that's all."

You huffed. You knew you weren't getting off that easy. "Shut up."

"No really," Harry said. You weren't looking at him, but you could hear the grin in his voice. "I wish you'd told me sooner. I would've gotten a hat, gotten the right jeans. Is that why you're into that show now? The one with all the cowboys and horseback riding and—"

"Alright, alright. I get it," you said, finally looking at him. Looking up at him, more like. Harry was practically toe to toe with you, his hand tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You know what? I'm taking me and my Kindle upstairs and I'm going to finish reading Jack—what did you call it?—ravish Delilah."

Harry let you stomp away in a huff, chuckling at your back as you left the den. Going up to the bedroom you shared with Harry, you settled on the bed and turned your Kindle back on.

Your eyes flitted across the screen, tracking over each word but not really reading them. You wanted to lose yourself in the story, in the scene laid out before you, but you couldn't.

"So, is it the hats that do it for you? Or the accents?"

Rolling your eyes, you tossed your Kindle to the side. Harry leaned against the doorframe, his eyes still holding that mirth in them. Narrowing your eyes at him, you said, "The ruggedness, I think. There's something so...manly about a guy on a horse and doing honest work, manual labor. Know what I mean?"

His nose wrinkled as he laughed. "Ha ha. I think I'm gonna have to download some other kinds of novels on there. Ones about rockstars falling for their fans, maybe?"

Harry began crawling onto the bed toward you, only stopping when you pressed a foot to his chest. "Really?"

"Definitely more rooted in reality than your wrangler fantasies," he said, then turned his head to the side. Pushing back your yoga pants, Harr pressed a tiny kiss to your ankle, then worked his way up your leg, toward the back of your knee. "Take these off, baby. And pick up that book of yours too."

You didn't need to be told twice about ditching your pants, but the book part made you pause. "Why the book? You were teasing me about it not even a minute ago."

"I am going to make sure you enjoy it," Harry said, though it sounded more like a promise.

Excitement flipped in your belly, your cheeks flushed with anticipation. "Yeah? Maybe next time I'll get you a cowboy hat."

Harry raised his brows, a crooked smile inching up his face. "I could get behind that. Now don't make me ask you again, baby."

Harry tugged on your ankle until you lay flat against the mattress with a squeak. "I'm going, I'm going!" you cried with an excited giggle, shoving your yoga pants down and wriggling out of them. Harry's hands, which were calloused from years of playing the guitar were rough against your skin, but it sent a lick of curling heat down your spine.

"The book, baby. Go on."

Your lips pursed as you looked at Harry. His lips were wet from where he'd swiped his tongue over them, the pads of his fingers trailing up and down the skin of your inner thighs. The light stubble of his cheeks scratched your skin, but it didn't hurt, it felt thrilling as he looked up at you through his lashes, green eyes glinting with promise.

Keeping eye contact, you reached for the abandoned Kindle, clicking it on and looking down at where you left off. Harry continued to lean against your thigh, stroking his thumb up and down while you settled against the bed. Nothing for one page, then more nothing, then he began to prop your leg up, then the other.

"Jack flipped Delilah over, his hands splaying across her bare back until they found purchase in the tresses of her dark red hair. 'Come on,' Delilah panted, already breathless from the mere anticipation of him filling her. It hadn't been long since they last fucked, but it felt like an age. She needed it more than she cared to admit. Badly enough that she was willing to do it in a dusty old barn. 'What are you waiting for—' 'Maybe I should put it in your mouth instead. That'll shut you up—"

"Oh." You gasped, pleasure tingling through your whole body.

"Is that me or Jack?" Harry asked, his voice vibrating through you, nose nudging against you in a way that had your toes curling.

"Jack," you teased, then arced your back against the bed with a groan.

"Sounds like I've got my work cut out for me," he said before parting your legs further. "Keep going. Don't put it down until I tell you."

"But—Ow!"

Harry kissed the juncture of your thigh, right where he'd pinched it. "Keep going," he repeated.

"Rude," you muttered but picked the e-reader nonetheless.

When you continued, so did Harry. It was hard to keep focus. Not when teased with his nose, or when he expertly worked you over with his tongue, especially not when he thrust his fingers inside you relentlessly. Still, you waited, still you read, waiting for Harry to tell you you could stop.

You were two orgasms in when he finally looked up, chin glistening and evil smirk shining as he glanced up at you. "I think that was all me, don't you?"

"Shut up and fuck me," you said airily, breaths still falling heavily. Giggling, you continued. "That I got from Delilah."

Harry crept up the bed until his face was level with you. His nose against yours before kissing it. "Tell me more."

"I could tell you," you said with a grin that matched Harry's. Reaching for the waistband of his shorts and briefs, you began to tug. "But I think we'd both have more fun if I showed you."

Harry leaned onto his back and rested his arms above his head, settling back with a grin as you climbed on top of him. His eyes rolled back blissfully to a single roll of your hips before they settled back on you.

"Show me then, baby."

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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cheriladycl01 · 1 month

Text

Miami Waves - Logan Sargeant x NewZealandOlympicSurfing! Reader

Plot: Miami boy wants to see if his Olympic surfing girl can keep up with the Floridian waves and you end up getting to know his colleagues more in the process

Credit to egg-waffles16 for the GIF

“Thank you for coming and being here with me” he smiles, his parents had been wanting to meet you for a while. You’d started dating when he first got into F2 and was put under the Williams Young Driver Programme.

“You knew I wouldn’t say no. I’ve been wanting to meet them just as much!” You exclaim. You were a little nervous to meet them, as in your mind Logan was it for you, this was the boy you wanted to marry and have a family with. And even if he didn’t feel the same way right now, that was okay. Not that you knew if he did as you’d never discussed your guys future.

But if you had, he would have told you he felt the exact same way.

Meeting his parents was so much fun, and you got to meet his older brother who teased the both of you relentlessly.

You were used to surfing in Australia and New Zealand. They were the closest to you, and there wasn’t quite any waves like their were on the Australian Coastline. That’s actually where you’d won, one of your first ever championships in surfing. Two years later and you were a Silver Medalists.

“Well my family love you. I’m pretty sure they wanted you to move in” he laughs, Logan lived at home all through his career in F2 and he still visited often as he always said how he felt like an outcast on the F1 grid.

Alex helped but he’d drifted apart from Oscar and had to watch him form a really strong bond with Lando.

He still talked to his friends from his days in Prema as well but everything but you felt so disconnected lately.

So spending those two weeks with his family and you in Miami in the beach villa you'd all rented was vital for the both of you. You felt like you'd been so busy running around, travelling the world with Logan all the time, surfboard rentals at every new place you went so you could train and sometimes travelling for your own championships.

You spent the two weeks doing the most mundane stuff, like cooking together with Logan, building sandcastles, teaching him how to paddle board before showing him the intricacies that came with surfing, which you thought considering his concentration and hand-eye coordination in an F1 car he'd be good at but he couldn't stay on the board once.

Your favourite thing was his family getting really excited to show your their favourite local restaurants in Florida.

You were currently sat on your surfboard with your legs in the water and hands on the middle part of it, watching everything in the neck high water below you.

The water's were crystal clear and you could see the little fishes swimming around playing through the sand. You were swaying a little bit where the quieter, unrideable waves were lapping over your board and sending you in random directions.

You were peacefully watching everything go by, until that peace was ruined by Logan, coming running into the water in his basketball shorts making you look over to him in shock.

"Logan?" you asked as he swam up to hold into your board, you scooted back so that he could haul himself up and sit opposite you on the board.

"Erm, so ... kind of last minute but you about to meet Oscar, Arthur and Freddie" Logan said, trying to give you his cute teddy bear smile, but all that was running through your body was shock.

It was a bit strange but you hadn't actually met his friends, you were very very busy with training for the next Olympics and another set of Championships in New Zealand when Logan was in F2, so you didn't see him in the paddock as much as you do now, and if you did you were nervous and kept to yourself.

"No, stop. I'm basically naked!" you exclaim looking down at your cleavage that wasn't well covered up by your bikini.

"Come on, lets go meet them. And get you a cover-up because I don't trust them" he laughs, placing a hand and the side of your neck before pulling you into a passionate kiss. You guys moved closer to each other to the point where you were basically sat on his lap. A wave a little to large came and toppled you both off the board making you both come up sputtering in shock.

You swim to where the water is knee deep and see three boys watching you.

"Oh" you mutter, knowing exactly who they were.

"Baby, these are my friends" he offers, grabbing your coverup and handing it to you so you could chuck it on.

"Yeah i gathered" you chuckle.

You spent the day with the boys, Oscar was the only one that could surf and you found yourself getting on with all of them, Oscar the most who became like a sort of Oceanic brother to you, being from Australia.

Arthur and Freddie were a whole other story, constantly flirting with you to try and get a rise out of Logan which you couldn't help but giggle at but always grab his hand, arm of leg in a comforting way to let him know none of it was affecting you.

"So, how are you feeling about the Paris Olympics?" Freddie asks as you were all sat around a bonfire, telling stories.

"Yeah confident, I'm excited to be able to participate in it for a second year running! Going for Gold and all that..." you grin.

"Well... we will all be there to watch you, right Logan?" Arthur grins, making you shake your head again.

y/user

Liked by logansargeant, arthur_leclerc and oscarpiastri

y/user: Missing NZ P1🇳🇿🥝 but Miami and Hubby are treating me well P2-4 🇺🇸🦅

Tagged One Person

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logansargeant: Out of all the pictures you could have used of me on the beach … 😩

-> y/user: baby, I had sunburn in all of our ones 💋

-> logansargeant: but you make such a pretty tomato 🍅

-> y/user: outside for you tonight

-> logansargeant: arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, frederickvestiofficial I’m in the dog house boys, help me out!

-> arthur_leclerc: sounds like a you problem, Y/N looking radiant as always 🌸

-> oscarpiastri: maybe you shouldn’t have called your girl a tomato? You hit those Miami waves Y/N 🏄🏼‍♀️🌊

-> frederikvestiofficial: Y/N deserves better 🫣🫶🏼

williamsracing: incredible stuff from you! 🦋💙

Instagram Story Caption:

I prefer the Miami sunsets 🌅

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

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twstowo · 4 months

Note

I noticed that you opened the ask box, so I came to ask for Floyd x Yuu with the scene from "The Little Mermaid", in which Ariel saves Eric from shipwreck, like it was an au where they met like that

I hope i'm not being too picky with my order ♡

♡OMG, I literally thought about this but with Azul, but then I was like, "Would Azul be able to save you?" because I have this mental image of him not being able to swim very well/being really slow. Lmao

♡Warning: Drowning

You'd always been a wanderer at heart, eager to explore the world, discover new places, and connect with people. Your adventure began when some sailor buddies welcomed you aboard their ship. Days at sea were filled with chants, parties, drinks, talks, and lending a hand to everyone. Once on land, you made the most of each day, wandering through cities and villages, documenting your experiences, and sketching landscapes. Your circle of friends in these new lands expanded so much that monthly, you'd receive a flood of cards and gifts, making it a challenge to find a spot for them all. Life was easy-going, a privilege granted by your birth into a well-off family, affording you the means to sustain yourself in these faraway places.

As you wrote letters to your distant friends, the sea's scent became a comforting constant, making you feel more at home on the waves than on solid ground. With night approaching, you finished the last letter and stepped out for a walk before dinner. It was then that one of your sailor friends, looking pale and alarmed, rushed towards you. "A storm's heading our way!" The wind had already picked up, and though storms at sea were nothing new, the urgency in your friend's voice unsettled you. "This one looks really bad, we might need your help," he said, and you nodded, following him.

With the wind intensifying, tasks on the ship became more challenging. The wind seemed determined to push everyone off the deck, and as you struggled to secure the unruly sails, your hands felt the sting of the rope. Panic spread across the crew, and for the first time, you feared this might be your last adventure. Looking at the encroaching storm, escape seemed impossible.

"Look out for that barrel!" you screamed as you watched the object land on someone's head, sending them tumbling down the ship. You ran towards them, grabbing their hand and holding it with all your strength to prevent the man from falling into the wild sea. The boat waddled with the strength of the waves, and you started to fear it would turn around at any moment.

"Don't let go!" you told him as you tried to pull him back up. You watched the fear in his face fade as he placed all his hope in your confident words. However, uncertainty crept in as the strength drained from your arms. The biggest wave you had ever seen approached the boat. You feared you'd never see your friends and family again as you said your last words before the wave hit all of you. "Fuck!-"

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

You felt so cold, your body shivering as you slowly opened your eyes. It was mainly dark, but you could see some strange light from above reaching towards you. Nothing made sense as your brain tried to process everything around you. Strange wood started sinking around you, and the bodies of the crew members slowly sank by your side in a slow rhythm. You tried taking a deep breath, but your brain didn't allow it as you realized that you were underwater, having fallen off the boat after that huge wave hit it.

You finally grasped the situation as you started flapping your arms and legs around, trying to reach the surface. Wood pieces hit you along the way, sending you tumbling repeatedly. You feared the oxygen would not be enough for you to save yourself. Your throat burned as you tried holding your breath, unable to swim back to the surface. Everything started to become dark as you dared to breathe in the water. Then, you felt a strange touch on your shoulder. The lack of oxygen was surely playing tricks on you as you watched a strange creature look at you with a curious glance. You closed your eyes, awaiting death to take you.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Floyd observed your sleeping form on the sand. He had brought you to the nearest land he could find, ensuring that your chest's gentle rise and fall indicated life. It was the first time he had come in contact with a living human, finding you strangely intriguing. Although he had seen some humans at rock bottom underwater, encountering a living one was a different experience.

Attempting to wake you, Floyd shook you gently, his fin hands reaching for your shoulders. However, your eyes gave no signal of opening. Annoyed, he sighed and lay back on the sand, half of his long tail submerged in the water.

Minutes passed as he lay there, gazing up at the sky. Strangely, after saving you, he felt in a remarkably good mood. He wanted to talk to you, for you needed to thank him, and he had questions about the inland people. Your head leaned against his shoulder, your cheek touching him, catching him off guard. He grinned as he gently arranged your hair.

When your eyes started to open, Floyd watched as you struggled to comprehend the situation. Weak and almost unable to move, you stared at his face, just a finger's distance away. You had never seen someone like him—strange ears, unnatural skin colour, and vibrant yellow/brown eyes. "Wh-Who are y-you?" you weakly whispered, and he quickly glanced behind, sitting down on the sand with his arms, reaching for the water.

“Oh My! Y/N is that you!” a voice shouted, and you tried to sit down, looking in the direction of the man who had vanished. You swore you had seen a tail—had you been saved by some sea creature? "We need to take you to a doctor!" a friend's hands reached for your arm, trying to help you stand as you continued gazing toward the ocean.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

“A human? I wasn’t expecting you to take such a strange liking to one of them,” Jade mocked his brother with a grin.

Floyd wasn’t enjoying Jade's tone as he swam away. He had been interrupted by another landwalker just when he had the chance to talk with you, not even learning your name. Though he'd never admit it to Jade or Azul, Floyd occasionally returned to that beach, hoping to meet you again. Perhaps one day, the two of you would get to talk properly, and Floyd could finally learn your name.

#twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst reader #twst x reader #x reader #disney twisted wonderland #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #twst floyd #floyd x reader #twst jade #jade leech

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ironstrange1991 · 2 months

Text

You're My Comfort

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The reader has a bad day at work and Stephen comes to take care of her.

Word Cont: 2,1k

Warnings: None, just fluff.

A/N: I am still struggling with authors block, but I'm happy for finishing this little something. It's not much, but I was in need of a comfort fic. Hope your guys like it and have a good read.

You arrived from work without even realizing how you managed to drive home. Stephen was busy talking to some Avengers in the living room and you just walked past them up the stairs and straight to your shared room.

You were too tired to even get undressed even though you knew you would feel better after a shower, but still all you could do was kick off your shoes and fall face down on the bed letting a wave of silent crying take over you.

You were tired of your job, tired of the way your boss seemed to suck out your soul along with all your energy, but at the same time you felt bad for feeling that way. After all, you should be grateful to have a job in the first place, or at least you should be grateful that your job doesn't put you in danger or be as physically draining as Stephen's. You lost count of how many times he came home injured and yet he never complained. You on the other hand, seemed like a crying little girl and thinking that way only made you feel even worse and it was a vicious cycle that you couldn't get out of. Feeling bad about feeling bad and so on.

You were still face down, tears silently streaming down your face, when you heard the soft creak of the door opening and closing and the muffled sound of boots on the floor announcing the approaching footsteps. You immediately turned your face away because you didn't want Stephen to notice you were crying and then you felt the mattress dipping.

He touched your arm gently.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" His baritone voice held a note of concern.

You didn't answer, you just shrugged your shoulders like you did when you were a child and your mother asked why you were crying. Many times you didn't even know why you were crying, but you cried anyway and that was exactly how you felt today.

You felt his hand on your head stroking your hair gently and before he could say anything, you crawled closer to him and laid your head on his lap wrapping your arms around his waist. He seemed to like it because his body shook with what you thought was a small laugh. Contrary to what your irrational side told you, Stephen didn't care about your anxiety crisis or those moments where you couldn't say exactly what was happening. He was already used to dealing with your fluctuating moods.

"Can you at least tell me you're okay, so I don't worry?" He asked and you nodded.

"You're okay then. Nothing bad happened?" He insisted and you nodded again.

"Good." He continued stroking your hair in silence.

"I know I've been working a lot these last few days, but if that's what's making you upset..."

"It's not that." You replied with a choked voice. Of course he would find a way to blame himself. When Stephen learned to be less selfish and egocentric, he simply turned completely the other way and became extremely altruistic, which you didn't like, much less approve of.

"Then talk to me, sweetheart. I don't like seeing you like this." His hand had now gone down to the middle of your back, playing with the strands of your hair.

"I'm just tired, I guess."

He sighed "You think so? Y/n you've been working non-stop for the last few weeks."

"There was nothing else to do. You weren't here most of the time and the company needed me."

You can almost see Stephen's eyes rolling back in his head. "They like to take advantage of you, that's what. You're too good for them."

You did not answer. You knew he was right, but you didn't want to give in. He returned his hands to your head and began to caress your scalp with his fingertips lightly and you let out an involuntary groan.

"Feels good, uh?" You could hear the smirk in his voice. Always so proud that he managed to turn you into a puddle of goo whenever he touched you.

"I'm exhausted. I need to sleep. I barely slept at all last night." You confessed to what he vehemently rebuked.

"You know I don't like seeing you in this state. You need to take better care of yourself."

You shook your head. "Right now I don't think I can take care of myself at all. I'm too tired."

He chuckled, surrendering to your charm and drama.

"Do you want me to run a bath for you or would you prefer the shower?"

He asked, already running his fingers through your hair to get it out of your face. He did his best to tie them into a bun.

"You will stay with me?"

"If you want. But you know where this is going to take us, don't you?"

You denied "No funny business tonight. I'm too tired."

He hummed "As you wish, love. Come."

He patted your shoulder for you to allow him to stand up and extended his arms to help you up.

"Too tired to walk." You grumbled and he let out a small laugh.

"Come on. I'll carry you, little girl."

You found somewhere within you the strength to smile and tease him, "Yes, daddy."

He scoffed, but picked you up bride style and took you to the bathroom. He sat you on the toilet and ordered "Raise your arms. Let's take these clothes off."

You obeyed and let yourself be undressed by him slowly. It was different. Although he was used to ripping off your clothes and fucking you senseless, in that moment he was actually being gentle and there was nothing in his eyes but affection.

"Get up so we can take off that skirt." He asked and you did as he ordered. He took off your panties too, leaving you completely naked for him. A light shade of red tinting your cheeks.

"Bathtub or shower?" He asked to be sure and added it right after. "There's no way I'm leaving your side."

You nodded "Bathtub. With lavender and bubbles. Lots of bubbles."

He nodded, but instead of doing the whole process like a normal person, he moved his fingers and the bathtub filled with hot water. With a smirk he snapped his fingers and the water turned lilac and your nostrils were invaded by the delicious smell of lavender as you watched the water fill with foam. "As you wish, madam. Come."

He gave you his hand and helped you get into the tub, and you moaned contentedly with the feeling of the hot water surrounding your body.

He quickly undressed in front of you and that was a sight you would never get used to. Your eyes devoured every inch of his body before he entered the bathtub and sat right behind you.

He moaned softly as well letting the hot water relax him completely.

"Christ, I needed this." He confessed and you leaned your back against his chest feeling yourself being hugged by his strong arms and you leaned your head back letting your eyes close for a minute.

"What a shitty day I had" You blurted out, earning a small laugh from Stephen.

"It is not funny"

He buried his face in your hair, "I know. Want to tell me about it?"

You sighed, "Nothing out of the ordinary happened. I think I'm just tired of that environment, those people. Of doing the work of two or three and not getting any recognition for it. I'm tired of leaving that place feeling empty as if I had left my soul there."

Stephen listened in silence. He was good at that, at listening silently and letting you vent. It was one of his many qualities.

"And I feel bad for feeling this way. It feels like I'm being ungrateful. I know I should be grateful for being in a job in the first place, but I can't feel grateful right now and on top of that I feel silly complaining about my silly problems when you have to deal with so much..."

"Hey, don't do that!" Stephen scolded you. "Don't belittle your problems by comparing them to the things I do. It's not fair. Your feelings are valid, sweetheart and there's nothing wrong with feeling the way you're feeling right now. We just need to think of a way to make it better because I've noticed that this days when your come home like this have become more constant. You're always too tired and sad and I don't like seeing you like that."

You sighed feeling his lips on your neck and your skin prickling.

"I think I just need to stop thinking for a few minutes. My mind is my worst enemy, you know. The more I think the worse I feel."

Stephen hummed and continued placing kisses on your neck "I can help with that." His hands went down to your breasts, caressing them lightly.

"I said no funny business." You scolded him and he giggled softly and you felt him conjure up a soft sponge still under the water and started rubbing your back and neck with it. You can't stop a little moan from escaping your lips.

"I don't deserve you, Steph." You confessed to what he hummed, using the sponge to rub your arms, your belly, your thighs, every place he could reach.

"I usually think the same thing when you take care of me."

"Guess we don't deserve each other then." You teased.

"Or we were made for each other. I like this option better."

"Because you're a romantic. You want to be tough, but deep down you're soft, Stephen."

He let out an incredulous laugh "I've been called many things, but romantic is the first time."

You smiled, keeping your eyes closed and reveling in the touch of his hands when he puts down the sponge and started massaging your shoulders gently. His hand was shaking, but you even liked that feeling.

"You're different with me." You insisted. "I watch you with everyone else and you're different when you're with me, sweeter and more affectionate."

He hummed petulantly. "You didn't expect me to treat Stark and Wong the way I treat my girlfriend, right?"

"It's not that. I just think you allow yourself to be your most natural self when you're with me and I like that."

"I like it too." He agreed kissing the back of your neck.

The two of you were silent for a few minutes, his hands continued massaging your shoulders lightly and although he couldn't put too much pressure on the act, it was enough to relax you. The sound of cars passing on the street occasionally broke the silence of the Sanctum, as well as the sound of the water that was slowly cooling and his calm and steady breathing.

Eventually your eyes started to get heavy and Stephen must have felt the way you let the weight of your body rest on his because he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the top of your head.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked genuinely worried.

You hummed positively and he sighed looking relieved.

"Good. Now I think we can finish here and go straight to bed, what do you think?"

You didn't have time to respond because your stomach growled embarrassingly loud to which Stephen let out a small laugh.

"Food first, then. Come." He asked and the two of you got out of the tub.

When you finished getting dressed, Stephen in just pajama pants and you in a nightgown, you ran to get under the covers and get comfortable.

"I'll get you something to eat. How about a sandwich?"

You nodded and then asked "What did you have for dinner?"

He shook his head "To be honest, I didn’t even remember to eat. It was a pretty busy afternoon."

You scolded him with a look, "Then I guess you can bring sandwiches for both of us."

Stephen nodded.

He came back a few minutes later with a plate with some sandwiches cut in halves, which you quickly devoured. When you both finished, neither of you was willing to get up, so Stephen just placed the plate on the bedside table and adjusted himself on the pillows, letting you lay on his chest.

"I know I've said this before, but you're so good to me, Steph."

He sighed, stroking your arm gently.

"I love you." You said, closing your eyes and feeling the tiredness of the day overwhelm you.

Stephen placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Taking care of you is what I love doing most, sweetheart. I love you. You have no idea how much."

You hummed softly "Yes I do because I love you just the same."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)

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plutoswritingplanet · 19 days

Text

Strip Me Down And Paint Me Black (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Female!Reader) pt.1

a/n: ah shit, here we go again... A continuation of "It's A Special Death You Saved", but it can be read as a separate story. Title from "Cinnamon" by Marika Hackman

Warnings: Harkonnen-typical Violence, some Sexual Tension, some Kissing, Enemies to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers to Enemies to Lo...

Summary: As you struggle with your new role as the Na-Baron's wife, plans are set in place, which will shake the very foundations of your life. Good thing, your husband is there to support you, right?

He watches you. Constantly.

You can feel his eyes moving over your body, soaking it in like a man parched. Every movement, every twitch of your muscles is noted, stored for later. It's like he's keeping a detailed record of your every reaction, as if he wants to keep it catalogued, create a mold of you in his mind. The furrowing of your brows and the squinting of your eyes, when the Black Sun of Giedi Prime first hits your vision. How your skin turns completely gray, devoid of any color, as you take your first step off the travelling ship.

You shift uncomfortably under his gaze, refusing to meet it, as your eyes adjust to the sheer force of the swallowing black light.

Touch is scarce and almost revered, when he lifts his hand to inspect a curl of your hair, the strand sliding between his fingers. He raises it towards the sun, admires it with silent appreciation, and somehow, instead of touching the softer parts of your being, this small gesture makes you want to scream. Because you know.

You understand, that this is what he wants to see. Black and white, and empty. No trace of the color before, only the bleakness and brutality of the Harkonnen. And you refuse, plain and simple. You refuse to be stuffed into this unforgiving planet, expected to bed yourself over to fit it. You value your Atreides lineage more than anything in life, and you'll sooner die, than discard it.

No matter, how delicate he has been since your first night together, how much the heat of his alabaster skin has brought you comfort, you can feel in the pit of your stomach. That this is all some elaborate rouse to keep you docile. To keep you a perfect image of a wife, the future Na-Baroness. It can't be anything else, surely.

So even now, as you admire the strangeness of this new planet, the blooming light that envelopes your skin, you force yourself to be on guard. Even as you look up at him, his sharp features and soft eyes, you bite down on any affection that might've reared its ugly head to the surface. This is not your home, and despite the ceremonies and the titles, this was not your husband. He was an impostor, a Devil sent from the Emperor himself to destroy your life.

His lips flash in a mirthless smile, when his eyes lock with yours. The blackened teeth, the stained gums, you hated that mouth with all your being. You hated that it fit against yours, and that it didn't repulse you quite as much as you would've anticipated. And you hated his hands. The same ones capable of such ruthless brutality, and also more than capable of soothing your sore muscles, of toying with a lock of your hair, as if your entire being was made of the finest, most delicate glass.

A small, barely coherent voice whispers in your mind, reminding you of the rustling of the leaves when wind picked up, back home. You can't live like this, it supplies, you can't survive on hate alone.

But you've always been stubborn, like a bull. And as his hand slides down to the dip of your waist, as he leads you from the spaceship to the shuttle, and then to the Palace, hate is all you can focus on. The swallowing pit of your stomach, much like the swallowing heat of the sun above you. It expands and pulsates within your veins, as your husband parades you like a prized trophy. Bald, white heads turn, salute the both of you, dissapear in a crowd of similar faces, similar blackened stares.

It's like you're surrounded by an army of ghosts.

- Welcome home, wife - he whispers into your ear, and you don't know how you manage to stop tears from springing in your eyes.

Not home. Never home. Your home had trees and oceans, and your Mother, your Father and your perfect Brother. Your home had Duncan, with his warm embrace and little scars littered all across his honey-colored skin. Your home had a sun that is warm and welcoming, that brings vibrancy to your life, and doesn't wash everything out, doesn't swallow all beauty.

The clothes you wear, the clothes he wants you to wear, are nothing like what you're used to. They make your body feel foreign, like an accessory more than your own flesh. You hate the feeling of the sheer fabric clinging to your skin, like some suffocating membrane. The heavy jewelry, which reminds you more and more of a slave's collar. He put it on you with his own hands. Delicately fitting it around your neck, caressing it with the calloused pads of his fingers, a proud expression decorating his sharp featured like a war medal.

You wonder what he sees, when he looks at you. Are your sentiments shared? Does he see you, as you see yourself, a doll dressed for his entertainment? A wife, should the politics require it? You're sure he does, there is no other way to describe the pitiful reflection in the mirror. Perhaps, in time, you might be able to fight back some semblance of dignity, to find a way of embracing these strange fabrics. Make this cold metal feel more like a necklace for a Baroness, rather than collar for cattle. Perhaps.

Right now, however, as his Harpies dress you, you feel less like yourself and more like a toy, for your husband to enjoy. They can't really pin your hair properly, and you don't blame them, you really can't. When's the last time they were forced to care for someone in such a manner, if they ever were? Today, they're extra zealous, rubbing your skin raw with the chemically smelling oils. It makes your head swim, the scent of some unfamiliar paste. Your eyes water, and before you can blink the tears away, one of the Harpies soaks it up right from the corner of your eye with some flimsy tissue.

She places the wet part against her tongue, and surprisingly, it doesn't bother you, as she tastes your tears, watching your reaction with completely black eyes. You meet her stare with a blank expression. At this moment, as she begins to slide another piece of sheer fabric over your body, you can't think of a way to be afraid of her, or her companion, which is fitting a pair of leather slippers over your feet. What lies ahead is so much more terrifying.

The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen has invited you for dinner.

The news is delivered by a horrified servant, bald head bowed, seconds after you arrive in your marital room. Your husband doesn't even blink, immediately shedding his travel clothing, and disappearing somewhere out of your sight. The Harpies swarm into the room soon after, carrying various vials and bowls, and you already know the routine.

The prospect of dining with your family's greatest enemy seems so outlandish, your body doesn't fully register the danger. Instead, you can feel yourself shut down, sink into yourself, between the constant expanding and contracting of your lungs, and the sound of your blood rushing through your skull.

Only, when one of the Harpies turns you towards a polished piece of black obsidian, only when you can finally see yourself, do you react. A barely-there gasp escapes your mouth, because for the second time today, you're surprised with the brutal beauty of this place, and how easily you blend into it. The Harpy leans over your shoulders, stands on her toes to reach you, and before you can react, her teeth scrape over the shell of your ear.

It doesn't hurt, and you turn your head towards her, faces inches from each other. Her head turns to the side, like some curious bird, and yet again, you can't fully decide whether you're looking at a human being, or some animalistic experiment. Your hand lifts itself on its own accord, fingers finding the Harpy's chin. Gently, but with enough force, you turn her face away from yourself. She doesn't recoil from your touch, doesn't react in any violent manner. If anything, her expression in the obsydian mirror looks almost bordering on proud. You try not to shiver at the thought.

Then, your husband appears from the shadows, truly demon-like, and the women, or creatures, scurry out of the room, vials clanking against each other, as they gather them in their muscled arms. For just a second you're struck with the realization, that you miss their company, unsettling as it is.

- Don't be afraid of them - those are the first words coming from Feyd-Rautha you've heard since you've arrived.

- I'm not - and truly, you mean it.

He regards you with a long, dragging look, taking in the layers of fabric encapsulating the shape of your body. It's truly a hassle, to stop yourself from flinching, when the length of his body presses against your back. His chin finds purchase in the juncture between your shoulder and the column of your neck, and his head dips down to inhale the scent of your skin. You can't believe he's able to smell anything other than the strong chemicals his Harpies rubbed into you, but you don't argue. Instead, you sway in his hold, closing your eyes, and letting your imagination take you somewhere warmer, somewhere home.

- I need you to be very careful tonight - he whispers into your skin, and you almost whine at being forced out of your daydream - My Uncle doesn't take kindly to insubordination, and although you are my wife, I won't be able to protect you from everything.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his skin, white and spotless, pressing into yours, marred with freckles and beauty spots. What a contrast you make against him. His mouth moves over your artery, nose dragging upwards, until he reaches the space behind your ear. He plants a kiss there, which immediately turns into a small bite, and your hands grip onto his forearms.

- Careful, you sound almost concerned about my well-being - there's a limited amount of sarcasm one could convey with such a breathless tone, but you manage, eyes locked onto the silhouette of the both of you in the mirror.

To that, he lifts his head, eyes locking with yours in the reflection.

- I don't like when others break my toys - he answers with a shrug, and laughs quietly at your outraged expression. - I prefer to do it myself.

Your muscles tense beneath his grip, and you turn to face him fully. Still, he doesn't let go, holding you close, smirking at you with that same self-satisfied expression.

- Oh don't worry - your cheeks start to warm up at the teasing tone of his voice - I haven't even had the time to properly play with you.

- I ha-

- Hate me, I know. - he interrupts, one of his hands coming up to grab at your chin, tilting your head towards him - Tonight, try to hate me in the privacy of our bedroom. For your own sake.

His head dips down, lips slotting against yours easily, and although you fight hard against the pull, soon, your mouth moves against his in a kiss that is entirely too gentle for the nature of your relationship. He whispers something in that godawful Harkonnen language, tilting his chin to kiss the corner of your mouth, your jaw. Then, satisfied, he lets you go, and you encircle yourself with your own arms, refusing to admit, that you're cold without him.

Making a mental note to ask for tutorship on the language, you allow him to lead you out of the safety of your shared bedroom, down the winding, black corridors, towards your first, and biggest challenge.

- With courage and grandiose... - you whisper, as the door to the dining hall slides open, and ignore with all your might, the way your husband's hand twitches around your waist.

The first member of the court you meet, is not the Baron.

Instead, a man of slender stature comes out to greet the both of you, a polite smile plastered on his tattooed lips. His eyes flicker between you and your husband, and absentmindedly, they remind you of little black beetles.

- Piter de Vries - he introduces himself, grabbing your hand with graceful movement - Mentat of the court.

He places a kiss over your knuckles, and something scarily close to disgust rises in your gut.

- The holotapes don't reflect your beauty, my lady - his voice is unsettlingly quiet, and it worms itself into your ears like an unwelcome guest.

Still, your husband's thumb moves against your back, rubbing up and down your spine, and you swallow thickly before replying.

- I'm honored to meet you.

He can see through the lie like you're made of glass, but you can't find it in you to care. This is not the man you're supposed to convince, and even if this Mentat is a constant whisper in the Baron's ear, let him know there's character to you still.

- I assure you, the honor is mine - his eyes glide over your features greedily, and you wonder if this hunger is a characteristic of all inhabitants of this planet - It's not everyday you meet Lady Jessica's Daughter.

Blood freezes in your veins at the comment, and not even the ever-present touch of your husband can stop your expression from changing. Ice and steel overtake, as you fix the Mentat in front of you with a hard stare. There is something in his gaze, something slimy and dangerous, that makes a pit form in your stomach. Still, tied to court's intricate pleasantries, you twist your face into a forced smile.

- You know my Mother? - the question slips out from between your teeth.

The man nods, a perverted version of a curtsy that makes you want to turn on your heel, and haul yourself back into your room. Damn your husband and all the uncomfortable ways he makes you squirm, you'll take it all if it meant never talking to this Mentat ever again.

- In a way - the answer does nothing to calm your nerves - Her talents are known throughout the whole galaxy.

- Yes, I'm sure they are - the barely noticable note of sarcasm some how registers in your husband's brain, and with a guiding hand, he pushes you forward, towards the dining hall.

Before you can get away from the Mentat, his unnaturally cold hand wraps itself around your wrist, keeping you in place with light pressure.

- I'm desperately interested in what you may offer the court - he says, voice low and bordering on ominous, and the pit in your stomach trurns into a boulder.

Lips curling in disgust, you wrench your hand away, but as you wind your palm back to deliver a slap across the smirking man's face, something white enters your vision. From behind your back, Feyd Rautha delivers a resounding hit to the Mentat's cheek, with enough force to send him stumbling to the floor. Your mouth hangs agape, as that same hand curls around your waist, and pushes forward, until you're forced to take a step, and then another.

Whipping your head around to look at him, all you can see, is that same passively bored expression he has worn, since your arrival to the planet. Not even a muscle twitches, not until the door closes behind you in the dining hall. Eyes trained forward, the hand guiding you slides up your spine right to the base of your head, where he grabs a loose fistful of your hair, and pries you away from him, setting your face forward.

Like a doll, your mind supplies, but all further thoughts get swallowed by a thundering wave of anxiety, as your eyes fall onto the only other man present in the dining hall.

You can't fully comprehend where the floor ends and the walls begin, the whole room looking more like an endless void of black, polished stone. The table is obscenely long, but narrow, and filled with various foods, none of which you recognize. Your breath catches, as you notice a macabre center piece right in the middle of the table. A beautiful female deer stands surrounded by black flowers, it's limbs kept immobile by some invisible force. It's eyes move though, skittering around the place, revealing that this poor creature used as some messed up decoration, is in fact alive.

- Welcome, my dear nephew - a low, slightly slurred voice rings out throughout the empty space, and finally, you can feel real dread.

- Uncle. - Feyd Rautha inclines his head, before all but pushing you forward into the belly of the beast.

And what a terrifying belly it is.

The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen towers over the end of the table, his frame as difficult to comprehend as the rest of the dining hall. He smiles at your husband, a show of black teeth against greying skin, and then his eyes move towards you. He doesn't hide the cruel, twisted expression, that flashes across his face, contorted in the low, floating lights. Then, as if a mask slipped onto him while you were blinking, he looks decievingly kind, like an image of a caretaker, distorted in a nightmare.

- Lady Atreides - his voice bellows, and despite every muscle in your body screaming at you to run, you take a step forward, before taking a shallow bow - A spitting image of your Father. I'm delighted to have you here, on my planet.

Swallowing hard, you risk a glance at your husband. He has abandoned you in favor of taking a seat in the only one of two available chairs. Blue eyes flash towards you, a hidden warning, and dare you say, a hint of concern. The deer on the table is breathing rapidly, you've just noticed.

- My Baron - your voice doesn't shake, a small blessing - I'm honored to meet you.

The rehearsed line seems hallow in the booming echo of the dining room, and you pray that it's enough.

The Baron gives you no answer, as he wordlessly gestures towards the table, and after a second your body jerks in the direction of the chair. With stiff movements, you sit down, your dress digging uncomfortably under your ribs. The deer looks at you, it's eyes wide, nose contracting rapidly as it inhales. You want to grab it into your hands, tear it away from the force keeping it trapped, and set it free, so it can run into the fields of Caladan. Your husband takes a long sip from his chalice, and you mirror his movements.

The liquid is sickly sweet, with a strong, chemical taste that coats your entire mouth. Fighting with the urge to spit it out, your neck strains as you swallow, feeling it travel down your throat, and into the pit of your stomach.

Are you supposed to be the deer in this place?

Feyd Rautha reaches for a vase of something vaguely resembling meat, and doesn't bother with his plate, taking the leg into his hand, and biting into it with reckless abandon. Some dark liquid spills over his mouth, down to his chin, and you have to look away, as he captures your gaze in an entirely too heated stare. This is not the time, you want to scream at him, but take another sip from the chalice instead.

- A monumental moment in history is happening right in front of my eyes - the Baron starts, and your hand freezes half-way towards your lips. - The union of House Harkonnen and House Atreides. The Emperor truly is a wise man.

- Of course - you agree, tying sarcasm to the back of your throat like an angry dog - I'm ever so grateful.

- I'm sure you are.

The Emperror wants you dead, there is no other explanation. You can't move, can't look anywhere but the eyes of the deer, seeing yourself in the reflection of it's glossy iris. Save yourself, it seems to scream at you, and your throat constricts around your airwave. Save yourself, because I couldn't.

- Your cousin will be joining us shortly - the Baron directs his gaze towards Feyd-Rautha, and your husband immediately straightens his back against the chair.

- Rabban? Shouldn't he be on Arrakis? - you don't remember when you've become so in-tune with your husband, but you sense his interest peaking immediately.

Something's wrong, something's terribly wrong, you can feel it. This slow dread climbs up your back like a snake, before sinking it's teeth into your nape. Eyes searching your husband's your fingers tighten around the chalice, around cold, black metal. You try to remember what your Mother would've done in a situation such as this. How she would comfort herself. Fear is the mind-killer, is the only thing that arrives, and the thought is as comforting, as a cold shower.

- By the Emperor's decree, our House has been ordained to leave Arrakis in favor of it's new stewardship.

You know what words are going to fall next, before they fall, and you close your eyes to brace for impact.

- The stewardship of your Father. Of House Atreides.

Someone save you, please. Your eyelids flutter open, gaze falling over your husband, as he watches you with a myriad of emotions running through his expression. You pray it doesn't settle on anger, and your prayers are heard. There is a cruel, twisting smirk in the corner of his mouth, and he turns his head to look at his Uncle, with a silent question. The Baron inclines his head ever so slightly, you can see movement in the corner of your eye, but the deer is still breathing, and for some reason you have to keep an eye on it, you have to know it's still alive.

You are not stupid. You've been trained to not be stupid, in life and in politics. It doesn't take too keen of a mind to understand the gravity of the situation. The steady flow of immense wealth the Harkonnens were known for, is suddenly cut short. Given to a rival House. This was not some beautiful gift of appreciation, this was a stoker shoved right into the burning flames.

- I'm honored - you repeat, like a bell in a church tower, and somewhere to your left, the Baron laughs.

- There will be celebrations, later this week - he continues, as if he hasn't just delivered life shattering news - We will honor your marriage in the traditions of our ancestors.

- Which is? - you don't really care anymore if the shift in your tone is registered as offensive.

Feyd Rautha actually, without a doubt kicks you under the table. You shoot him a look bordering on pure shock and outrage, and all you get in response is an arched eyebrow.

Something rattles below you, a tell-tale sound of machinery whirling to life. It gives you only one second to register, but as soon as it does, your heart jumps up into your throat. Paper thin panes of glass shoot out from under the table. The deer gives a pathetic squeak, as it's body is cut into equal pieces. No blood is shed, the whole operation barely moves the air in the dining room, and you watch the life drain from the deer's eyes, as the panes begin to move.

They separate each piece, creating a cross-section of it's insides. The chemical wine threatens to rush back out of you, and your dig your nails into your palms. Your husbands shoe settles in constant, grounding pressure against your ankle, and although you would never admit it, it's the only thing keeping you from shattering. Whether it's a threat or a promise, you can't be sure, but there is frost in your veins, and fire in your eyes, as you slowly turn your head towards the Baron.

He's wrong. All of them are wrong. You're not some deer, some lost shivering thing, made for a display of cruelty. You will not be brough down to some decoration, and so, you raise your chin higher, and hold the Baron's gaze. His eyes, gleaming with violent delight, jump around your face, this strange battle coming to a sudden end, as the corner of his mouth quirks up.

He moves his hand in the air dismisively, and your husband stands up, a laziness to his movements. You stand up too, your chair shuffling against the polished floor, stiff limbs fighting for an illusion of graceful movements. Wishing you could drive your point further, you bow again, this time, your eyes remain glued to the black beads of irises, shining in the amassing of flesh that is the Baron's face.

And then you're off, heels clicking on the floor, as you bypass your husband and all but storm out of the dining hall. He follows you, you can feel his pressence on your back, but there's too many emotions running through your head to find it unsettling. The silence of it all, the calmness. Perhaps you would've preferred if he had been angry with you, if you could pinpoint his reaction, bottle it up to hate it later.

Right now, you can't do much, other than run to your shared rooms, pretend like they are a solice, a safe space for you to exist, when in reality, they're anything but. The unsettling realization, that you navigate these corridors like a natural born Harkonnen will hit you later today, but as such, you are blinded by your own anger.

- Did you know? - the question sounds more like a demand, as soon as the door closes behind you.

Back turned, you stand in the middle of the bedroom, finally granting yourself the luxury of outrage. Shoulders rise and fall in tandem with your labored breaths, and your nails have bitten crescent moons into your palms.

- Yes. - you've anticipated his answer, and still, it shocks you to the very core of your being.

Hair whips around your face, as you turn to face him., strands all but slipping from the inexperienced updo. He holds your gaze with steady eyes, crosses his arms on his chest, but has the decency of looking on edge.

- How long?

- The news came right after the engagement began.

That, admittedly, knocks the wind out of your lungs, and you take a step back, until your behind collides with the obsidian desk. Hiding your face in your hands, you rub your palms against your temples, tug at the roots of your hair in the process.

- So, what now? - you ask, sounding so drained, so tired, you almost don't recognize your voice.

His shoes invade your vision, as he steps closer. Your husband, your Bull. You don't want to look up at his face, scared of what you'll find there. He doesn't share the same sentiment, apparently, as he lifts your chin with his fingers, until you meet him with a withering expression.

Feyd Rautha leans down, capturing your lips with his. Not really in the mood for kissing, as your head races with a myriad of terrible thought, you push against him. Should've known better, he loves a fight. Tongue slipping through the barrier of your teeth, you can taste the strangely chemical wine on his breath. His hands grab what they can of your body, until they settle on the sides of your face, where he tugs you up onto your tippy toes, taking a drink of you, like he did from the chalice.

Breathless and confusingly aroused, your fingers twist into the material of his dress shirt, but before you can truly let go, he pulls away. Hands still on your face, you are suddenly pulled forwards, as he drags you in front of the mirror. Thrown off guard by this change of pace, you try to writhe yourself away, only to be gripped even tighter, so hard, you can feel something shift under the skin of your jaw.

There are dark stains all around your lips, stains that taste just like the wine. Feyd Rautha stands behind you, much like he did before the dinner, but all comfort from that moment is trampled under his foot, as he slides his arms around you.

- Now, I must make you into a Harkonnen - he rasps into the base of your neck.

Then, reaching towards your lips, he wedges his fingers inside, pulls until you can see your teeth in the reflection. Black, thick liquid covers them completely, staining your mouth in the process. The wine, you realize, but before you can rationalise any more, tears spring in the corners of your mouth. Disgust bubbles in your stomach like an awoken volcano. Disgust and anger, so much anger.

Your husband humms softly behind you, cranes your head back.

Your body feels foreign again, as he kisses your tears off of your skin.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #dune part 2 #dune x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x you #we're so back guys we're so back #i have my playlist ready my deranged notes in front of me we're doing this #hide your bald caps im coming

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lovelybrooke · 1 year

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I don't suppose you wanna do an isekai reader for jjk too? I /loved/ the one you did for one piece and would love to see your take on it with jjk characters too!

I swear, some of you read my mind. I wanted to write for Isekai reader but didn't know if anyone would want to read it, since people mostly seem to want to read The Last of Us stuff (I'm not complaining, I love your support). Though, I couldn't resist writing my thoughts below. I would love to write more of this, so feel free to request.

The reader being transported to the world of Jujutsu Kaisen would be fundamentally different than let's say, One Piece or Genshin Impact since the world of Jujutsu Kaisen is mostly the same to modern day Japan, minus the curses. So, when the reader gets transported there, they're not really going to know the difference until they see one of the characters.

The smartest decision in this case would to be to avoid them at all costs, since it's likely that if you mingle with their affairs, you could end up in big trouble. This would work for a while, since I don't imagine you would have high curse energy due to the fact that you're from another world.

However, your presence alone raises suspicion, as some sorcerers are able to tell that you just don't belong. Like I said however, you're able to mask it easily, playing off your aloof and strange behavior as due to the fact that you're a foreigner.

Gojo is definitely the first one you officially meet, him befriending you because he finds you interesting. It isn't until a few weeks of knowing you that he starts to pick up on how weird your presence is.

He starts to think you're some weirdo kid, because when he investigates you, he can't seem to find anything about you. No parents, no friends, no education. It like you just appeared out of nowhere. He knows you can't be a curse, so who are you. He struggles for a while before just asking you.

Gojo doesn't believe you when you explain your situation. Though, it wouldn't be the weirdest thing in the world. He's surprised that a world without curses exists, but kind of disappointed that it's fundamentally the same to his world. Gojo wants to believe you're crazy but can't really come up with a better explanation for why you irk him so much. You choose not to tell Gojo about the fact that you knew him already, or the fact that you knew him at all, since that would only complicate things.

Gojo agrees to help you find a way back home, his explanation being that he's bored and you're interesting, which doesn't make you feel better about your chances returning home. Gojo's idea of "help" is acclimating you to curses and his job as a sorcerer, since you'd have to get used to it eventually if you plan on being here for a while. He's not all bad, he lets you stay at him home while you find a place to live and work. He's not always around, his teaching position taking up most of his time.

When he is with you, he goofs around a lot, gossiping about his students with you. Your time with him allows you both to build a nice friendship, Gojo happy that there's someone who actually likes him, even if it's because you've never seen someone as strong as him. He likes how carefree of a kid you are, gleefully unaware of the dangers of this world.

Eventually Gojo does introduce you to his students, who absolutely love you. Gojo doesn't lie to them about your situation, telling they straight out that you're from another world. Most of them don't believe him, however some, namely Yuji, want to believe it's real. Yuji is fascinated with the idea of you being some insanely strong Jujutsu sorcerer from another world, even when you tell him that's not the case. Eventually, the others warm up to you and the idea that you come from another world.

The students absolutely love you and encourage you to move into the dorms with them. Gojo is against it, since you technically aren't and a student. It's definitely not because he doesn't want you to move out with him. You also decline, saying you need to find your own place since you're on your own. Gojo knows that isn't happening. You're just a kid, you don't need to live on your own.

You spend a lot of time with the students, mostly the first years, however they all like being with you. Yuji and Nobara love asking you questions about your world, only stopping when Megumi forces them to leave you alone so he can hang out with you in peace. Speaking of Megumi, he doesn't really ever believe that you're from another world, but he can't deny the feeling of pride he gets when you see how strong he is during training.

The second years also love you and are sad they didn't get to meet you sooner. The only one who really believes you is Toge, Panda and Maki both thinking it’s bull. However, they find you interesting, so they don't mind it. The all hate that they can't spend as much time with you, since your closer to the first years, and there definitely a little rivalry between them.

The whole time you're there you haven't really had to deal with any curses, Gojo being there to protect you at all times. However, that doesn't mean they aren't aware of you. Sukuna, sadly, is one of the first curses you meet since Yuji's his vessel. You don't really worry about him, since Yuji has him under control, but you never know how he's feeling, which makes you kind of nervous. You try to avoid talking about your world around Yuji, since you're afraid of how Sukuna might react.

Sukuna himself goes through an emotional roller-coaster when it comes to you. At first, he sees you as nothing as a crazy human who is vessel is obsessed with. However, as Yuji spends more time with you, he starts to warm up to you. You intrigue him, and he eventually starts to view you as his crazy human. If you ever get caught up in battle and Gojo isn't there to protect you, Sukuna is demanding Yuji get you to safety. He denies that he cares about you, but his behavior says it all.

You meet Getou and his followers later, Getou being surprised that Gojo is so obsessed with some week human. I image that he knows about you, stalking you when he's in Tokyo. Like Sukuna, he doesn't really care about you at first, however as he continues to learn about you, he starts to understand why Gojo is so obsessed with you. He sees you as someone who needs protection, and he's the only one who can provide that. You don't see him often, but when you do, he's trying to convince you to leave the sorcerers and gone him, so he can protect you.

When Getou can't watch over you, he's getting one of his lackies to watch you for him. Usually, Mahito watches over you, much to Getou's hatred. Getou knows how spontaneous Mahito is, and so he really dislikes whenever he messes with you. However, Mahito finds you absolutely adorable. You're just some small, defenseless, human who he could destroy in one blow. Not that he would do so! He just finds you so interesting. So many strong sorcerers and curses are obsessed with you, even though you're nothing special. Maybe it's your soul? He doesn't know. He'll have to wait until Getou's ready to take you to find out.

You're never going home. That's for curtain. With the strongest curses and sorcerers obsessed with you, you're never going to get the opportunity. Gojo constantly tries to get you to forget about leaving, claiming that his students would be devastated if you left, which is true. Gojo works with his students to make sure that you never have the opportunity to leave, since one of them are constantly with you. It gets overwhelming; however, they always claim that it's for your protection. Honestly, their possessiveness might just push you towards the curses, though it's not likely since Gojo won't allow it.

A/n: I'm going to scream, Jujutsu Kaisen 0 isn't free on Crunchyroll.

#yandere x reader #platonic yandere #soft yandere #platonic yandere jjk #platonic yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #yandere gojo satoru #platonic gojo satoru #yandere yuji #yandere yuji itadori #yandere megumi #yandere nobara

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visionofhope04 · 6 months

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Here for the angst of neglected batsis, imagine or hc them of moving out if the house when they are 18 and let's say they meet some spirit and they have their memory wiped and transfer to the marvel universe to restart their life and more happy, then the dc/marvel merge together because of a big threat and batfam sees batsis is heavily pregnant and married to our favorite deadpool charater Colossus?

How would they reached if batsis just can't remember them and keeps on telling them they have the wrong person?

I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK. Guess who's back!! Sorry it took me so long to get this out, I haven't had the motivation to write until recently. Also OOC warning bc I don't really know him well besides the Deadpool movies. I almost freaked out bc I haven't used the tumblr website in so long and it got updated so I thought I lost all my drafts. So glad they're still here, whew. Not beta read so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes!

---

It's been a year since moving into your apartment and you couldn't be happier. College was going well and you were taking classes you enjoyed. However, you haven't made any friends yet which led you to spend your free time reading or surfing the web. Jason didn't come by much due to having his own life and vigilante things, which you understood. It didn't mean you couldn't be a little bit sad about it though.

Even though you were enjoying your life, you still felt as if there was something missing. You'd been trying to figure out why you had felt this way but nothing came to mind. Any time you tried to brush off the feeling, it came back stronger. You did your best to ignore it and continue on with life, but it was always there, nagging you.

It had been a long day. College was so stressful. Your professors kept hurling projects at you that had deadlines that were practically impossible to meet. You just wanted it to end already and be on summer break. Then, you’d be able to sleep how long you wanted to without the fear of being late for class or forgetting to complete an assignment.

You sat down at your desk and pulled out your laptop, preparing to continue an essay that was due in three days. Suddenly, you began to feel nauseous. Confused, you attempted to ignore the feeling in favor of completing the essay. A few seconds after trying to focus on your laptop screen, you saw a bright light.

"My child, you will be saved from this life." A strangely comforting voice said.

Then everything faded to black.

---

"Hello?!"

A voice. A voice? But you live alone and no one has the spare key to your apartment. You slowly opened your eyes, groaning and quickly shutting them again once a bright light blinded you.

"Oh you're alive, thank God. Can you speak?" Whoever this was seemed to have been panicking before, slightly less though now that you had indicated you were alive. You groan as you push yourself up off of what seems to be concrete. Concrete? You're definitely not in your apartment. You crack your eyes open again, this time with less difficulty, and come face to face with white lenses of a mask. Blinking again, you register that the lenses are attached to a red material with black lines.

"Ah!"

"AH!" The figure yells and jumps back, startled by your sudden surprise.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" You asked, tilting your head slightly to the side.

"What do you mean? I'm Spiderman." His voice was a bit high pitched, he sounded like a teen at most.

"Spiderman? You've got to be joking. There is no Spiderman. Go home kid, crime fighting isn't a game." Sure, you may be a hypocrite, seeing as you are an ex-assassin who began learning how to kill at around 5, but at least you had training. What did this Spiderman have? From how startled he was, you assumed he had barely been trained, if at all.

“What? I'm literally Spiderman! I'm Queens' hero!"

"Queens, New York?" You thought you'd still be in New Jersey at least.

"Uh yeah. I don't think there are any other places called Queens that have a Spiderman."

"Again, Spiderman? Seriously? You couldn't think of a better name at least?"

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with Spiderman!"

"Sure kid, keep telling yourself that."

He was about to protest when suddenly, someone else dropped into the alley.

"Hey Spidey, who's this lovely lady?" A person in an all red with black suit with two swords on his back and guns strapped to his waist called out. The person seemed to be a male, around 30 years old.

"This 'lovely lady' is very confused. Who are you?" They keep multiplying, and you'd never seen this person either.

"Did you hit your head or something? You've never heard of or seen Deadpool? The most handsomest, most awesomest, funniest, killer crime fighter?"

"Uh nope. Also, I'm from Jersey, how did I end up here?"

"Good question. What's your name?"

"Oh, it's-" You stopped in confusion. "I actually don't remember. It was just at the tip of my tongue but I don't remember."

"Oh great! Amnesia! Just what we need. I'll let you handle her Spidey and I'll go stop some bad guys, 'kay?"

"What! No, don't leave me here!" Deadpool was already sprinting away.

"Let's get you to the base. Colossus and the others will know what to do."

---

They did not, in fact, know what to do. Colossus sent Negasonic and Yukio to contact Professor X, while Spiderman went to contact Tony Stark (I'm still emotionally scarred from Endgame so no, he won't be dead, this is my fanfic and I can keep him alive if I want to) and Deadpool went back out to patrol. You were left alone with Colossus.

Uncomfortable silence sat between you. Just as you were beginning to get antsy, Colossus broke it first.

"Do you remember anything at all?"

"I'm... a college student. I live alone in an apartment in New Jersey, I think. I used to fight crime until... I don't know, it's fuzzy. I'm an ex-assassin who has been training since I was 5. That's all I remember."

"You can remember that but not your name?"

"Look, I don't know okay? I don't know what's happening or why I can't remember anything else. I want to remember who I am, but I can't. And it's so... so frustrating! Your suspicion is understandable, but it is not helping."

"I apologize. This is a stressful situation for you. I will be more considerate."

"Thank you."

---

They could not figure out what happened to you or why you suddenly appeared in Queens one day. Your memory remained fuzzy, so you were stuck. As time passed, you and Colossus grew closer. You became so close that he told you his real name, you became a couple, and you got married. Seven years passed, you were 25 and you'd been trying for a baby. You both felt the time was right and that you'd be able to handle parenting.

Colossus came home from work one day, spent and tired. There you were, waiting for him at the door as usual.

"Hi my love, long day?" You fiddled with the positive pregnancy test behind your back.

"Yes darling, when is it not?"

"Well, we're going to have to figure something out, because there's no way I'll wake up every night to take care of our baby."

He looked confused, then realization hit. "You're..?" He looked so happy and hopeful, you couldn't contain your happiness. A huge smile lit up your face.

"Yes, we're finally going to be parents!" You pulled out the pregnancy test and held it up to him.

He laughed a joyful laugh, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes as he embraced you. It must've been infectious because you began to tear up too. You remained in each other's embrace for a while, just existing in the moment. Time felt irrelevant as you basked in your shared delight.

---

8 months later, your belly had swollen and grown. Everyone was happy for the both of you. You and Colossus were both eager for your little one to arrive. You'd both decided to wait for birth to find out the gender. It didn't matter to you whether it was a boy or girl, just that they were healthy (gender's a construct anyway). The pregnancy had been going great so far, but this time of easy-going was about to get ruined by your husband's job.

---

Your world had merged with another because of some cosmic threat. Great! Your husband would be preoccupied trying to fix the situation, which meant that you'd be alone. Selfishly, you wished that they could let your husband stay with you so close to your due date, but you knew he had a role to play in saving two worlds.

Seeing your loneliness, Colossus decided to bring you with him to the Avengers' base. He hoped you'd be able to befriend some of the people there. You entered the compound and your eyes were drawn to some men standing beside a set of double doors. They all had suits on, black hair (one guy had two white streaks in his hair) and most had blue eyes, except for one man who had green eyes. He was also noticeably the darkest of the group. They felt familiar to you, especially the man with green eyes. Have you met them before? Who were they?

As your husband was discussing some details about the meeting, you couldn't help but watch the group of men. Not knowing why you thought you knew them annoyed you. As if they could feel your eyes on them (they could), they turned around in sync and locked eyes with you.

Their eyes widened and they all exclaimed your name in various degrees of disbelief. They rushed over to you and your husband protectively stepped in front of you

"How do you know my wife?"

"Wife?!" Some of them shouted. They were beginning to cause a scene.

"You're pregnant." The one with green eyes observed. He seemed to be having some sort of crisis.

All their eyes darted to your belly, making you uncomfortable. You placed your hand over your stomach and attempted to discretely hide behind your husband. This did not go unnoticed by them.

"You don't remember us?" The shortest of them questioned.

"No, I've never met you guys." You were very confused.

The man who appeared to be the oldest said your name. You stared at him as he studied your eyes, presumably to see if you were lying. It made you feel vulnerable and unsettled, couldn't they leave you alone?

"We're your family."

The guy with the white streaks in his hair scoffed. "You didn't treat her like she was family. I was the only one who cared for her when she was younger while you all ignored her and let her suffer. I'm glad she doesn't remember what you all did to her. She's clearly living a much better life without you lot in it."

This was getting more confusing by the second, although you felt there was truth to his words. Did you forget these people? They seemed very convincing if they were lying.

"I'm sorry but I really don't remember you guys. Maybe you have the wrong person?"

"No we don't! You disappeared one day and now that we've finally found you, you're saying you forgot everything!"

"That is enough. Please leave my wife alone, she does not know you, and she does not need the unnecessary stress of trying to remember people she's never met. Do not approach her anymore." Colossus guided you away from the men, who stared longingly at you. The heartbroken expressions they had after your husband's speech would follow you often. Were you sure you'd never met them before?

---

Words: 1,847

#batfamily #batfam #batfam x reader #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #avengers x platonic reader #colossus #colossus x reader #tim drake #damian wayne #batfam x neglected!batsis!reader

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mrsriddles-blog · 2 months

Text

Iris | M.R

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle X Slytherin Fem Reader

WC: 3.2k+

Warnings/Notes: Mild language, angst, fluff, slow burn, crappy dad…

Summary: In which you are Mattheo’s safe haven, the Iris in his life… 🌙

And I'd give up forever to touch you

'Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't wanna go home right now

You sat in the Common Room, curled up in one of the oversized armchairs by the fireplace as you read. Mattheo sat on the sofa, trying to act as if he was working in his journal, but really he was focused on you.

He wasn't one to get shy or nervous, but around you he did. For the longest time, he was so careless and reckless, but then he happened to have noticed you. You were careful, and some would argue boring as you preferred playing it safe. It made some of your housemates question how your a Slytherin.

But, Mattheo noticed how you were caring and loving to those so important to you—and the first years. Typically, the first years are left to fend for themselves, but you always help them settle in and find theirselves a group of people.

You had easily fit into your guys' shared friend group, yet he found himself wanting more than a friendship with you. You were the light in his life, and for that he'd be forever thankful.

He was struggling before he had met you. He was getting angrier, getting into more fights, feeling more spiteful, drinking more and even smoking more. He was pushing all his friends away, until you. You brought him back. He found himself controlling his anger so he didn't scare you. He stopped fighting as much as he knew you hated it. He stopped drinking and smoking as much. He hadn't felt spiteful really since he met you. It was you had provided him with such tranquility—such heaven.

Yet, he couldn't ever admit his feelings to you. He was too scared to. He was scared he'd lose you and he didn't want that. He wanted you in his life someway, somehow. If that was by being friends, he was content with that.

You yawn and he knew you'd be going to bed soon which meant he too would go to bed soon. He was only up because he saw you were the only person in the Common Room. He originally felt bold and was going to express his feelings, but he found himself backing out and cursing himself for being a chickenshit.

And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

When sooner or later it's over

I just don't wanna miss you tonight

Mattheo found himself awake from nightmares, so here he was sitting in the Common Room at two in the morning. He hadn't had a nightmare in so long and it irked him so much that they had begun once more. He was so upset and he found himself crying, so he left so he wouldn't wake up his roommates.

He was sure they wouldn't care and that they'd be concerned, but he didn't want that. He was already embarrassed that he was having nightmares again. He felt like a little kid.

He tenses, hearing footsteps towards the Common Room and he glances over to see you stumble in. He was quick to look at the fireplace, wiping his face of any traces that he'd cried earlier.

"Matty? What are you doing up?" You mumble sleepily as you stumble towards the couch.

"Dunno'." He mumbles, internally cursing himself for pushing you away now.

"Are you okay?" You mumble.

"I just...want to be alone right now." He says, sighing after he realized how douchey that sounded.

You were more awake now, trying to get a grasp on this moment. Mattheo was hot and cold in moment. Typically hot with you, but right now he was being cold which was strange. You noticed he looked upset and you frowned. You move over to the couch he was sitting on. You place a hand on his arm and frown as he tenses.

"Oh Matty, you don't got to talk about it. I get it, but I can tell you most definitely don't want to be alone right now. You don't have to put that facade up for me. Here, lay down." You say, patting your lap.

He stared at you in bewilderment. How was it you weren't intimidated and scared when he got cold with people? You weren't even fazed aside from being more caring and concerned. But, you didn't pry. You simply wanted to provide comfort. You understood that he didn't want to bare his soul open to the world right now, you understood he felt misunderstood and broken. He moves, laying his head on your lap.

You toss a blanket over his lower half before you run your fingers through his hair. You hum softly, smiling as he relaxes and he soon was falling asleep. You followed not long after.

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

Mattheo knew he had been awkward with you in the morning upon waking up with his head on your lap, your fingers still in his hair. You didn't seemed bother, or if you were, you kept it hidden.

He was currently seeking you out during your guys' free period to apologize. He knew he was in a strange headspace last night and he felt as if he put a lot on you.

He found you sitting under the tree you all tended to occupy with your friends. Thankfully, your guys' friend group had some studying to do in the library. He sits next to you and you look up from your book before closing it as you smile at him.

"Hey, Matty." You say softly.

"Hey...I wanted to apologize for last night. I know I was a bit rude to you and I'm sorry. And I'm sorry if I put you in a weird position." He says.

"Matty, you don't need to apologize. It's okay! I don't know what's going on and you don't have to tell me. I just hope that whatever it is, it gets better. If you decide if you want to talk about it, I'm always here. There's no shame in talking about your feelings, Matty. I know you don't believe that, but it can be a good thing to talk time to time." You say, smiling encouragingly and softly.

"Can I tell you something?" He blurts.

"Anything." You murmur.

"I've had nightmares since I was a kid because my father. I haven't had them since second year until last night. So...I was upset and I was embarrassed. I'm sorry." He blurts, how cheeks flushing red in embarrassment and frustration.

"Matty, don't apologize. It's okay. I'm sorry you had a nightmare. It's nothing to be embarrassed about though. I have some too still...I've got a really crappy dad and use to...I'd have my mom to hum. Her humming always calmed me down and made me feel safe. But, she passed and then I was alone...it was just my dad and me." You say, smiling sadly at Mattheo who stared at you in surprise.

"I never knew that." He says.

"I don't talk about it a lot. I don't think I've told anyone that since transferring here believe it or not. I just...I don't know...I don't want to be pitied. I want to be seen for me, not that I have a crappy homelife." You explain.

"All those fights I use to get into...it was to make me know that I was in fact alive. For such a long time, I just felt like my world was black and white. Fighting made me feel adrenaline and this rush and then my getting hurt...it all made me feel alive." He admits.

"Oh Matty, if you ever feel like that...like you need a moment to know you're alive, come to me. I'll show you." You murmur.

"I've been feeling that for awhile, Y/n/n. I don't think you can do anything." He says sadly, looking off into the distance.

You gently nudge him with your elbow and he looks at you. You bite your lip nervously before looking at his lips. You lean forward slowly, glancing up unsure only to see his eyes on your lips which encouraged you. You close your eyes, your lips moving softly against his.

And you were right.

His heart sped up, as a rush went through him. He kissed you back, his hands settling on your hips as he pulled you onto his lap. You pull away slowly, looking at his with a shy smile, flushed cheeks and blown pupils.

"Fuck me, I hate it when you're right." He says, chuckling as you laugh softly.

"In case that didn't tell you how I felt, I like you, Matty. A lot. I see you more than you know and I want to be able to love every piece of you. The good and the bad." You murmur.

He leans forward, kissing you again as he tried to express his own feelings. You smile into the kiss, understanding exactly what he was saying.

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive

Word spread like a wildfire of Mattheo and your relationship and even three months later, it was still the big news.

Mattheo stood outside the Great Hall, nervously pacing with the big bouquet of purple flowers. There were a little this and that in there, but mostly irises. He learnt in Herbology that irises meant hope, faith, courage, and wisdom. Once the two of you began to officially date, he told you that you were his hope.

He walks in, seeing you dressed in a white sweater dress, laughing amongst your shared group of friends. Pansy sees Mattheo first and grins which catches the rest of the groups attention. You turn back just as he got about two or three steps from the table. Your jaw goes slack as your eyes water slightly.

"Happy three months, love." He says, nervously, handing you the bouquet.

"Thank you Matty, these are beautiful! Oh, look at these irises. They are so beautiful!" You say softly, looking at the different assortment.

He smiles, taking a seat next to you as he finds himself feeling much more relieved that you loved them. You lean over, kissing his cheek as you smile softly at him.

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

You were nervously playing with your hands, your father sat across from you in the limo he owned. You were going to the Christmas's Ball hosted by the Malfoy's, but you were going to be meeting your boyfriend's father for the first time. Which meant your own father was as well.

"Stop that." He snaps.

"H-Huh?" You mumble confused before facing a sharp smack.

You stare out the window for the rest of the ride with watery eyes. You were more than happy to get out of the limo, but you unfortunately had to walk in with your father.

"Don't you go straying off, we are meeting your boyfriend's father." He snaps, grabbing your upper arm in a tight grip.

Your friend group had turned when you had walked in due to Mattheo's surprised look. You were dressed in a gorgeous dark green gown the hugged your upper body and was flowy in the skirt. You hair was done perfectly along with your makeup.

But, they noticed about the same time as Mattheo was the big ugly bruise on your cheek and the way your father grabbed your arm.

"F-Father, d-do we even know where he's at?" You ask.

"Shut up, can't you ever just shut up?" He snaps harshly at you, walking down a corridor.

Mattheo was following which made your father turn as he heard footsteps.

"Excuse me sir, I can take you to my father. Hey love, you look beautiful." He says, trying to give you a small smile.

You could see he was furious and you shake your head sadly. Your father didn't loosen his grip on you, but he agreed to follow Mattheo who led you both up a flight of stairs.

You reach a sitting room and you see his father in an arm chair. You had heard rumors that he had a spell made to reverse the affects of the horcruxes, but you didn't believe it until now. The man looked to be in his early twenties, with sharp features, a lanky yet toned build, and cold eyes.

"Mr. Y/L/N, I presume." He says.

"Yes." He says curtly.

"I'm Voldemort. Pleased to meet you...and Y/n, I've heard so much about you." He says, smiling coldly at your father before smiling softly at you.

"It's nice to meet you, sir." You murmur, trying to keep your face at an angle without it being noticed so he didn't notice the bruise.

He holds his hand out and you didn't miss how his eyes lingered on your father's hold on your arm. You gently pulled at your arm which allowed it to be released as you took his hand. You were appalled when he kissed your hand, before he focused on the red angry mark on your arm that was starting to bruise.

He murmurs a spell and watches it heal before turning your face toward Mattheo and healing the bruise on your cheek. You look back at Voldemort.

"Thank you." You murmur.

"Of course. Go enjoy the party with Mattheo. Your father and I...we are going to chat for a while. Please do save me a dance." He says.

"Of course, sir. Thank you again." You murmur.

Mattheo holds his arm out to you and you smile softly at him as you link your arm with his. Unaware of his father's eyes watching you both as Mattheo opens the door letting you walk through first with him following close behind. He smiles slightly, admiring how far his son had grown.

"Are you okay?" Mattheo murmurs.

"I'm fine. He was actually in a much better mood than I expected." You admit as you walk down the stairs with Mattheo.

"That's him in a better mood?" Mattheo asks, his own anxiety spiking as he fears what a bad mood is like with you near him.

"Yeah, probably one of the best I've ever seen him in, oddly enough. Your father was...nice. I was expecting him to hate me, respectfully." You say.

"He's been different since the spell reversed his looks and negative affects he faced. He's even been a better father dare I say. It's been...strange. He did seem to really like you. I just...I worry about your father." He admits.

Your eyes widen as you look at him.

"I don't think he'll kill him. Worst is that he’ll hex him and maybe threaten him about hurting you. That really set him off. He genuinely was excited to meet your father, but his mood shifted when he saw how your father was treating you." He explains.

"I just want to enjoy the night with you, Matty." You whisper.

"Would you do me the honor and dancing with me, love?" He asks.

"Of course." You say, smiling widely at him.

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

You knew Mattheo was having a rough day. It was the anniversary of his mother's death and he was having a hard day coping.

Oddly enough, his father owled you and told you some things about Mattheo's mother and some things that may cheer him up. You owled him a letter back in thanks and wished him well.

You roped Theodore and Enzo in with helping set a few things up. You walked to the boys' dorm to see that they must've all left Mattheo to be alone. He was staring up at the ceiling.

"Love, I think I want to be alone." He mumbles.

"I love you and respect you, but let me be here, okay?" You murmur, climbing onto his bed.

He genuinely felt better as you wrapped your arms around him, allowing him to shift to be the little spoon as you managed to be the big spoon. You rest your chin on his shoulder as you squeeze him tightly.

"You're gonna kill me, love." He mumbles, managing a small smile.

"I just love you so much. I'm sorry." You whisper, kissing his cheek.

He hums, pushing himself back further into your embrace. You held him until he was ready to go to breakfast where he didn't necessarily want to talk or eat, just a change of scenery. You managed to get him to eat some food and drink his juice—-and even a few smiles out of him.

You took him to the courtyard, reading his favorite book to him while playing with his hair. His eyes were closed as he half-listened to you and half-thought of how grateful he was for you.

Around dinner time, he followed you with confusion to the Astronomy Tower. You had set up dinner here and planned to watch the starts with him as he and his mother use to when he was a child. You made sure to get his favorite snacks and even a few of his mothers.

"Love...what is all this." He whispers.

"Your father owled me and told me today is always a particularly rough day for you. I had already planned on spending the day with you, reading and cuddling...but he gave me a few other ideas. He told me your mom and you would watch the stars so I thought if you were up to it that we could watch them together. And he told me some other favorite foods and snacks of yours...along with a few of your mothers. I understand if this is a lot. We can go to dinner and I bet Teddy and Enzo wouldn't mind cleaning this up." You ramble, suddenly doubting yourself as you looked anywhere, but him.

"Love...thank you." He admits, his voice cracking as he pulls you into a soft kiss.

Your heart broke for the boy you loved so dearly. He was so heartbroken of the loss of his mother. He didn't deserve this.

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

"You father seriously doesn't mind me spending the summer with you guys?" You ask for what felt like the hundredth time to Mattheo.

"He's ecstatic to have you over, love. He's got the whole summer planned with fun activities." He sighs, giving you a pointed look.

"I'm sorry! I'm just nervous! Gosh." You pout.

"I love you." He murmurs, giving your lips a pec.

"Hey, not long enough mister." You pout.

He grins before leaning back in to kiss you softly in which you reciprocated as you couldn't help, but smiling into the kiss.

I just want you to know who I am

#harry potter universe #masterlist #slytherin #hp fandom #angst #slytherin x reader #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #fluff #song fic #mrsriddles-blog #mrsriddles-blogunhinged #mrsriddles-blogisblogging #Spotify

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pablitogavii · 1 year

Text

Fight

Summary: You and Pablo get into a fight and he leaves the apartment. You think he doesn't want you anymore starting to pack your bags but he shows you that a real man never gives up on a woman he loves <3

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Warnings: slight angsts/ fluff at the end <3

"You're not listening to me!" you yelled overwhelmed by anger and frustration and Pablo kept clenching his jaw doing his best not to be so 'hot headed' like everyone claims he is being.

"I'm done listening to you!" he spat grabbing his jacket and leaving the apartment with a loud slam of the door which sobered you up.

He left. It was over. He doesn't want you anymore.

Your whole life people left and didn't come back. You were used to it from your dad, to your best friend but when Pablo left it hurt..it hurt really damn bad!

You knew you had trust issues, with a good reason, but with Pablo for the first time you could trust a man and feel like he will always be there to protect you...guess you were wrong, and you were alone once again.

Tears were drowning your face while you sat in the corner for half an hour crying until there was no more tears left to cry so you got up walking to your shared bedroom.

You pulled your suitcase from the closet opening it on the bed while sighing heavily. You messed it up again..like always you pushed people away from yourself.

You were packed in about an hour but couldn't get yourself to leave looking around the place that quickly became your home. There were pictures of you and Pablo all around the apartment, form the first date at that silly ice cream shop to the most recent one during the celebration dinner with barça..you looked happier than ever before in your life in those photos besides Pablo.

"Amor! We forgot to put the trash outside for the truck to pick.." Pablo stopped speaking suddenly freezing in place when he saw you standing there with a suitcase besides you holding one of the pictures.

"What's going on? Are you going on a trip amor?"Pablo looked confused and now you were as well. Didn't he want you to leave his apartment? Why did he come back??

"I'm going to leave your apartment because you don't want this anymore.." you said and now he was much more confused walking towards you and holding on of your hands in his bigger one.

"What!? When did I say that?" he said kissing your hand looking into your eyes and your heart started to speed up when you realized that this might not be over after all.

"You left..but..but you came back? Why?" you said not able to control the tears and he sighed pulling you closer to his chest and letting you cry into his shirt for as long as you needed.

"Oh mi amor..I just went to get some air but of course i came back..what did you think that I was going to give up on my soulmate that easily?? Not a chance preciosa!" those words were foreign but it felt so good that someone was fighting for you for the first time in your life.

"So..so..you are not going to leave?" you asked once again like you needed to make sure this was indeed happening being strange to your and he smiled shaking his head and pulling you into a tight hug.

"I'm not going anywhere mi preciosa.." he said kissing the top of your head and you smiled listening to his heart beat and calming yourself down while the small smile creeped onto your face.

"Is my princesa smiling..bueno..that's a lot better! Come to your Pablito" he pulled you onto the couch away from the suitcase and you snuggled into his side quickly taking in the scent of his familiar musk that made you feel safe.

"You hate when someone calls you Pablito.." you remind him and he chuckled kissing the top of your head pulling you even closer.

"You can call me whatever you like princesa..only you" he said and that made you smile looking up as he placed his lips onto yours into a sweet kiss.

"Nobody ever came back like you did..I thought you didn't want me anymore" you admit after you pulled away and he shook his head reassuring you that's so far from the truth.

"I will always come back preciosa..because I was raised that when a man loves a woman, he never gives up..never! And I love you..so damn much even when you drive me loco!" he said smiling while tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear while you blushed.

"I'm sorry.." you said truthfully forgetting what that damn fight was even about realizing just how stupid it all was.

"Shh I only let you drive me loco mi amor.." he said kissing your lips again and you kissed his back snaking your arms around his neck as he pulled you to straddle his lap and cuddle into him close.

"I'm not your dad...and I'm not that dick best friend that left..I'm your Pablito and I will never hurt you like that" he said and you smiled nodding your head and knowing in your heart that he was telling the truth.

"I love you Pablito.." you say while playing with his hair and he smiled letting you enjoy it for as long as you want knowing that could always bring a smile back to your face (I mean imagine playing with Pablo's hair!!!).

"I love you too mi amor..but really what were we fighting about again?" he said and you both started laughing realizing that neither knew what the hell fight was about.

"I don't know..let me go so I can make us some dinner" you said but he kept you on his lap starting to kiss the side of your neck.

"Gavira! There are still things to do! And all you think about is.." but you couldn't finish since he kissed your lips passionately making you giggle.

"Reminding my girl that she is mine for life? Damn right amor!" he said getting up and carrying you into your shared bedroom ;))

Hope you like :)

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #gavi #gavigif #gavira #pablo gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavi x reader smut #gavi x reader #gavi x yn #gavi x you

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spdrvyn · 4 months

Text

nauseously nurtured: MIGUEL O'HARA

after getting discharged from work, miguel tries to give you as much as attention as possible while he's away. only to grow concerned, when you don't pick up his call on the last day of your break.

hurt/comfort. omg?! another post?! that's crazy, anyway time to disappear for a month! (just kidding, i have another fic to post on v-day)

Love is in the air? Wrong, gas leak!

That was the clever message you sent to Miguel while he bombarded you with calls immediately afterwards to check if you were okay. It was as you described, there was a gas leak at work so you had the next three days off as they sorted the issue.

He had insisted (if not, forced) you to quarantine in that duration for good reasoning, spoiling you with all of your favorite take out places while you two tried to keep in touch through call and messages.

Concern had worn Miguel through when he got back home to you, he wasn't able to tear himself away. Checking your eyes, ears, mouth even for any signs of sickness and letting out the biggest huff of relief when you're completely spotless. You insisted that the only sickness in you was how sick you were for him, to that he wanted to roll his eyes at but he'll put up with your corny lines as long as it meant you were healthy and happy.

Next morning, he dreaded having to go to work. Multiversal protection wasn't something he was feeling when you were home and all his for the taking, but you practically pushed him out of bed when he didn't let up on his grasp on you. Still, his attachment didn't evade you even when you were miles away from each other.

You texted him the oddest things, Miguel found himself with a fond smile in the middle of a full cafeteria with multiple eyes on him because you sent him a stupid fucking 0.5 image of a stray cat. To which he had to glare other spiders down from sheer embarrassment, scarfing down his food to hide back into his office.

The call time averaged on four hours, sometimes seven to eight if there wasn't any urgent business. Jess or Peter B. would join in too, but the latter was more intrusive if all else.

On the third way, you don't call him.

Nor do you pick up Miguel's calls, the worry came back to him like it always did. He texted you, over and over but you didn't even leave him on read either.

Of course, he's unlucky enough to have more business that urgently needs tending to so he takes care of that first. Gruffly pushing buttons on his watch to call you again as the extraction team works behind him, he brightens up under the mask when you actually answer him this time.

That little hologram he'd have of you doesn't appear this time, which means that your video was off. Again, strange. You always had your video on when talking to him, most of the time it wasn't even focused on you but whatever you were doing. Still, he wasn't going to waste the little time he had thinking about it.

"Cariño," he felt the breath enter his lungs again. "You didn't pick up my call a while ago, que paso? Are you feeling sick from the leak?" That last question stuck to his suspicions as he heard the sound of sniffling and nose blowing on the other side of the call, the grip he had on his wrist tightening.

"Migs, I need you." you sniffled, "Could you come home please?" You didn't need to say anymore than that.

As the team begun to call for him, he cussed under his breath. Moving closer to his watch to wish you a goodbye before ending the call, sending you a quick text that he'd be home soon and he does.

Two hours later.

There were too many problems that needed taking care of. Injured spiders, broken equipment, not to mention that the signal towers were down for whatever reason so he couldn't find a way to contact you. It was maddening to maintain any sort of composure in those two hours, the thought of you all sick and needy at home was the only thing keeping him from simply losing it.

He'd swung back to his home in a daze, nearly missing sight of the poles or buildings in his way that he'd almost bumped into them and probably would have caused him more time to get back to you. It was already dark when he slipped into the window, when he saw your shriveling form on the bed.

You had a comforter draped over your entire body, a show blasting from your phone speaker. Multiple tissues were scattered on the sheets of the bed, littered on the floor too. An empty glass of water with a crumpled pack of chips on the bedside table, how pitiful it all looked.

He approached the bed slowly, letting his presence be known by his weight being brought down on the mattress as it sunk slightly. The noises from your phone silence as he pulls the blanket up slightly, only to discover that you're not sick.

Puffy eyes, messy hair, ruined makeup, outside clothes, and runny mascara were telltale signs of what had happened for you to be in such a state. His gaze had softened, but yours didn't. Your frown deepened as you yanked the comforter from his grasp and covered yourself with it again as another sob was ripped from you.

"I– things were getting too crazy back at work," he begun to grovel. "Lo siento, por favor. I should've been there for you and I wasn't, please forgive me."

He noticed the tremble as you growled in frustration, abandoning your hiding altogether as you seethed at him. "God damn it!" the ink from your mascara no longer had any sort of effect, clear tears streamed down your cheeks. "Why– why do you have to do this everytime? Ask for forgiveness, be so- so understanding and caring for- for other people—"

His confusion is most imminent, but the fretfulness on his face overshadowed that as you curled against him, your hands fisting the nano-fabric of his suit. It glitches and bends around your manicured fingers, his own hands move to grip your waist and pull you closer to him in some form of a hug.

"You know what they said about you?" your voice shook with unease, "They said that you're so perfect, too good for me, how it was even possible that I bagged someone like you."

Disdain plagued each word that you spewed, Miguel wanted to be offended, he should have been offended. But deep down, he knows that all of his hatred was truly directed at yourself. "Who's 'they'?"

"My friends!" you pushed against him once more, but his hands remained steady on you. Moving up and down your sides in a gesture of soothing, you push a dainty finger against the hard muscle of his chest. "And they're right! I don't even know if it's all in good fun anymore because- because you—"

No more is able to come out of your mouth aside from a pathetic croak, you shudder before your grip on his suit loosens and you become limp against his hold. "M'sorry," you whimper, "I'm being emotional again. Too much. You have too much of me."

This hurt so much more than any wound he's sustained from battle, seeing you in this state was bad enough, but to know that he wasn't able to come to your beck and call the moment he'd heard about it probably stung even more.

How could he be so careless? Why couldn't he go just a little faster at HQ? Maybe then, you wouldn't have turned out like this. A sad, shivering mess in his hold. His fingers curl around your cheeks, flushed and red. Either from crying or from being inebriated, it didn't matter.

"It's okay," he leans forward, your tears are salty as he kisses them away. Your breath hitches, eyelashes fluttering as his lips feel hot on your skin. "I think it's beautiful. You're beautiful."

The moment freezes for a bit, Miguel's lips barely leave your face, neither does his hands as he calms you down. You think how someone could be so sweet, while barely even saying a word. He mumbles unintelligible phrases under his breath that you're too dazed to pick up on, but you can only hope he's whispering about how much he loves you.

And he really does, he loves you more than whatever "too much" meant. The rush of victory he feels after successfully completing a mission couldn't compare to the sheer happiness of getting home to you, safe and sound. Confiding in your presence, forgetting about everything and everybody else until the next morning.

It gets harder and harder to move, to breathe, you go as limp as a ragdoll. Miguel still holds you, he moves his lips to your forehead in one long kiss. There's still some part of you that wants to be closer, closest, so weakly you pull at his bicep.

He shields you from all else for a while, the idle sounds of the city don't even make it to your ears except for the steady thump of Miguel's heart as your cheek is pressed against his chest. His hand tangles in your hair, brushing through knots while scratching at your scalp in the meanwhile.

You don't think that you say anything to each other for the rest of the night, but that's okay. You're okay. You're beautiful.

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