#speechless has never written a bad fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

danikamariewrites · 10 months

Note

Okay okay okay, so errr I have like maybe a couple things but I'm not throwing everything with the expectation that you write all of them!!!

First maybe Azriel taking fem reader to a starfall ball. Bonus points if A already knows B is their mate, and they're waiting for A to find out

Okay okay now for Xaddy Xaden. WHAT ABOUT Xaden Riorson smut maybe? Idk I don't have a plot I just kinda want him

THANK YOU SO MUCH

Diamonds and Pearls

Azriel x f!Reader

A/n: I think this is my favorite fic I’ve written so far. I almost started crying writing this tbh. I went with Az bc I’m in a fluffy mood this evening but Xaden smut is coming I swear😉

Warnings: disgustingly fluffy

Azriel was surprised by how bold he had been in asking you to go to the annual Starfall ball with him. He didn’t want to dance around his feelings for you anymore, he had to tell you the truth. And tonight was the perfect night. Azriel never considered himself a romantic male, but that was changing tonight.

The reason for Azriel’s boldness was thanks to the mating bond. The bond had snapped for him exactly three weeks ago at breakfast. It was nothing special, just you, him, Cassian, and Nesta sitting at the table when it hit him. Feeling that golden thread come to life in his chest, being able to feel your calm heartbeat was the best thing that has ever happened to him.

For the first time in his life Azriel felt pure joy. He felt like everything was perfectly aligned. He was already head over heels in love with you and the mating bond just solidified that you were the one for him. You had known each other for centuries, and have been seeing each other romantically for a few months now. He was ready to take your relationship to the next step.

But would you want this with him? To be tied to him forever? He didn’t stop to think about that during his weeks of planning the perfect night to tell you. No, he couldn’t let his mind wander, he was too happy. He realized in his worrying his shadows were swirling around him and the hallway. Azriel called the rogue shadows back to him, he didn’t want to scare you when you came out of your room.

Just as your door opens the last shadow flys back to him. Of course the one shadow that was fond of you was last to come back to Azriel.

As soon as Azriel laid eyes on you he was speechless. You looked like the brightest star that would grace the sky this evening. Your dress was a beautiful light blue, made up of diamonds and pearls strung along the bodice. Your leg peeking out of the slit in your flowing silk skirt that had a layer of shimmering fabric that reflected in the light. Your silver heels clacking on the tiled floors as you made your way towards the shadowsinger.

“Wow.” He breathed out. You spun causing the dress to flare out, it practically glowed, just like you Azriel thought. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” Azriel suddenly felt guilty for wearing just a simple all black outfit on such a special night. A blush dusted his cheeks, “Thank you.” He holds out the box he’s been clutching for 2 hours, afraid he’d lose the gift he bought you. “I got you something for tonight.”

“Oh, Az, you didn’t have to get me anything.” You took the box from his hands, slipping one into his hands, smirking. “Very slick.” You giggle.

“You open yours first, and I promise I did not go to Mor for gift advice.” Azriel laughed, opening the box. His eyes went wide, he couldn’t believe you had given him something so beautiful. In the box was a silver signet ring with his wings and Mount Ramiel with the stars above it. “Y/n…this is incredible. Thank you.” He smiles down at you, his heart soaring at your kindness. “Your turn,” he slips the ring on his index finger, flexing his scarred fingers at the new feeling.

You open the skinny box to a gleaming diamond and sapphire bracelet. “Azriel! This is absolutely gorgeous. Thank you.” He takes the delicate chain out of the box, “Allow me.” You smile at him as he clasps the bracelet on your wrist. He brings your hand up to his mouth leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles.

He drops your hand, offering you his arm, “Shall we?” You interlock your arm with his and he whisks you away to the party. To the future he has planned for you, hopefully.

…

The stars are about to fall and Azriel had stolen you away from the Inner Circle to watch them on a private balcony. You were very excited to watch the stars with just Azriel. You planned to tell him that you loved him tonight, something you haven’t said to each other yet.

Lost in your thoughts about the beautiful shadowsinger, staring up at the stars he sneaks up behind you, tapping you on the shoulder. Startled, you turn towards his smiling face as he holds out a glass of wine for you, “What are sneaking up on me for!” Chuckling at your reaction he pulls you into his side, wrapping a wing around you, “Sorry darling, force of habit.”

You sip from the glass as the stars start to fall, watching in awe. The stars only hold Azriel’s attention briefly, more interested in watching you glow under their flashing light. Mother above you are beautiful, and he’s thanking her, like he has everyday since the bond snapped, that you’re in his life.

After a few more minutes of watching the stars you feel Azriel’s eyes on you. You turn, shifting a little away from him and smile. “I’m very happy I get to spend Starfall with you Az.”

“I am too y/n.” He swallows, now’s the time to tell you. He’s not backing out now. “I have something to tell you.” You say in unison. Laughing at your synchronization, you take Azriel’s hands in yours, swiping your thumb over the new signet ring reflecting all the blues and purples from the stars. “You go first.”

Azriel can feel his hands clamming up, it’s now or never. He’s just going to come right out and say it, even if it comes out sounding foolish. “A few weeks ago, at breakfast the mating bond snapped for me, for you. I could feel your heartbeat and happiness as you laughed at Nesta’s joke. And I swear in that moment I fell in love with you all over again. I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to tell you. I understand if you don’t want this because honestly I don’t deserve you y/n or the love you give me. But I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Tears were falling from your eyes. You couldn’t believe what Azriel was saying. You wanted this so badly from the day you first met. All you wanted was his love, but this was even better. You had dreamed about finding your mate ever since your mother told you about the concept when you were a little girl. Now yours is standing right in front of you confessing his love for you!

“Yes Azriel,” nodding vigorously, sending more tears flying down your cheeks. “I love you and you’re all I’ve ever wanted. I’m so lucky to have you as my mate, I couldn’t ask for anyone better.” Tears were now falling down his face. He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you flush against him, kissing you heatedly.

In that moment the bond came to life in your chest. Glowing bright, connecting the two of you forever.

tags: @msiecrane @auggiesolovey

#acotar fanfiction #acotar reader imagine #acotar #acotar reader fic #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fic #acotar imagine #azriel fluff #Azriel acotar x you

446 notes · View notes

emuthec0w · 1 year

Text

Surprise Party !

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

!! AUTHORS NOTES !!

Hehe >:) A littlebullet point fic of how the yugioh characters would react to their s/o throwing them a surprise party !! Gender neutral reader as always :)

P.2 will have , Ishizu Ishtar, Téa Gardner, Joey Wheeler, and Mai Valentine !!!

Characters ; Seto Kaiba, Yugi Mutou, Atemi / Yami Yugi, Ryou + Yami Bakura, Marik Ishtar

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Seto Kaiba

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

Birthdays.. he didn’t really enjoy them. Not his own , anyways. When it came to yours and Mokuba’s, he found some enjoyment in them. You and his brother’s smile of glee healed his heart just a bit, knowing you two could have the things he never could in his childhood- and now- made him.. happy.

Though, he may not admit it. Not right away, anyways.

His birthday was like any other day, loaded with work. What could he expect? A break on his birthday when he was the head of a giant company? Not a chance. It hardly even crossed his mind that it was his birthday to begin with.

On his way home he may pick up a coffee as a little treat for himself, but other than that, the festivities are pretty much over before they even began.

“I’m ho-,”

“Surprise!” “Happy birthday big bro!”

Little did Kaiba know you and Mokuba had been planning a huge surprise party since his last birthday. His lips parted in as he stared at his now decorated living room and kitchen. Blue and silver ribons all over..

“Hm,” He hummed, a grin settling over his previous look of shock, “Not bad, for the world champion himself.”

He would never admit it, but this is the happiest moment of his life. He didnt have to though, as you could read him like a book. And he was acutely aware of this fact.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

Yugi Muto

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

Yugi has always celebrated his birthday by bringing cupcakes to his class to share the joy. “It’s not as good if you’re celebrating by yourself!” was like his motto, or something.

Afterwards he may invite a few friends over to play Duel Monsters on this special occasion, just for fun of course. Though he didn’t expect you and Grandpa to pop out of the door with a “Happy Birthdayyy Yugiii!!” the moment he got home..! But, it was a pleasant surprise.

“You guys..,” He may tear up a little, “Woah..”

He’s more or less speechless at first, but he makes sure to show his gratitude through physical affection such and holding your hand and hugging you tight.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

Atem / Yami Yugi

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

The pharaoh is rather used to celebrations of days such as his birth, or the anniversary of his crowning- it’s hard to ignore the public’s gratitude. But, he was used to it by now. Their weren’t a lot of surprises on days like these anymore.

He spends most of the day in his study writing down the past few major events on papyrus sheets. His ability to write out perfect hieroglyphic symbols still impressed you to this day, honestly.

When he had finally decided to put his quill down for the night he noticed the sounds of excited squealing from the pharaohs sleeping chambers. His dear Queen/King, what could you be up to now, he wondered? You were always warm and happy like the sun, he wondered if you ever could truly harbor hatred for another human.

As he stepped into the temples sleeping chambers he was immediately met with the sight of red and white lights illuminating the walls, and petals covering the ground. He wasnt very good at expressing it, but it made his heart flutter. Making his way to your shared qaurters .. wow.. before him was a heartwarming sight.

You, his lovely queen/king sitting in a pure satin laced night gown, holding out a cake to him. ‘I ♡ you Atem!’ was written across it with icing.

His lip trembled, it brought him such .. happiness that you found him this precious to you with no strings attached. He took the cake and nodded his head;

“Thank you, my- my dear..”

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

Ryou Bakura

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

Ryou had lived alone for quite a while, so.. on his birthdays, there was never anything to look forward to to begin with. Plus, what if he shared a birthday with someone else? He.. didn’t want to be a bother by bringing it up.

This is why none of his classmates ever batted an eye on his birthday; he never told them about it. But you..

Oh, he couldn’t hide a thing from you. In the end you had forced his birthday out of him- it turned out you were right. You shared your birthday.

On his way home from a tournament, he’s fully intent on buying you the best gift he can find! Stepping into your favorite little shop he immediately spots what he’s gonna get; a huge Hello Kitty plush that’s way bigger than either of you. Thank god the clerk running the check out was able to smush it down into one of their bags.

That would make it a much bigger surprise!

Opening the door to your apartment he’s greeted with the sweet smell of strawberry shortcake. Oh wow.. he was so lucky. If one thing was clear, you knew the way to his heart ; good, homemade food.

He made his way to the kitchen, the sight of presents piled on the table making him stop in his tracks. His cheeks flooded with a dark hue of red, brown eyes softening like a puppy begging for food. Could it be? Had .. you really done this all for him? On your birthday too? Oh.. oh wow.

He had never felt so loved.

The whole night was just like a dream come true- what he had always imagined real birthdays to be like! You’d both gotten presents from your friends, and you had gotten him a deck of all the rarest cards you could find.

“My fairy.. you shouldnt have..!”

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

Yami Bakura / Thief King Bakura

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

The entire day you were by his side, on such a special day that should have been celebrated for milenia.. he didnt want his pretty prince/princess wandering from him. Though the days prior you had set up a small ‘party’ in your home.

After cheering him on in a duel against some chump- who was it? Oh, right. Kaiba, who he obviously won against; you brought him back home, making sure to stop at little shops you both liked to buy him treats.

“C’mon Bakura!” You called, “I have a surprise!”

“Tsk, so eager. I never quite understood birthdays, anyways..”

He grumbled but followed en-suite. He had no such good memories of birthdays. His was hardly ever celebrated, instead that Pharaohs was what everyone gushed over. But no matter, back then he could have always just stolen himself any trinket he desired - it didn’t even need to be his stupid birthday.

As the two of you returned you took the pale hand of his host’s body and lead him inside. His eyes widened at the view.. so many sets of cards.. so many random trinkets, and a table set full of food, drinks, cake- everything.

“I knew there was a reason we were destined to be together, my Prince/Princess..”

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

Marik Ishtar

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰

From his earliest memory of it, his birthday has always been a dreaded time in his life. One year closer to having to accept the ritual. And when that time finally arrived, his birthday had officially been deamed the worst day of the year. Somedays, he wished he had never been born at all.

It was no wonder it took him a good while to open up to you about his past, and even what day his birthday was. He wished he could just purge the day from the year. It would make everything much.. easier.

On the “special” day he had locked himself away in his room, hugging his pillow just- just waiting for it to be over. The memories he had to relive- the stinging from his tattoos.

But.. hearing your voice from outside he almost immediately shot up.

“My Prince, may I come in?..”

You were acutely aware of how hard this day was for him. But that’s why you wanted to give him some new, good memories of it. When he opened the door you brought him into your warm embrace, seeing the tears in his eyes broke your heart. He was.. comfortable being vulnerable around you. And that meant something- it meant a great deal to you. You hushed him softly, humming a sweet tune.

“I dont want to be seen like this.. come in.” He grumbled, “Not even Odion can see me cry anymore.”

The tan boy pulled you in, locking the door behind you two. He sat you down by his side on the edge of his bed. You watched with a small frown as he wiped the tears from his eyes and his sniffling nose.

“Marik.. I have a gift for you, my pharaoh.”

“What?..!.. Please dont- nno- dont do it to me again-..!”

Marik immediately pulled back, pulling his rod out as quick as he could. That look of fear in his eyes- you’d never seen it before. You shook your head, pulling out a small box.

“Please trust me, it’s something good.”

With your reassurance he lowered his gaurd just a bit.. but he was still weary. That was until you pulled- could it be? The Millenium.. the Millenium Eye from your little box. You held it out to him. He silently took it , rolling it around in his palms.

“Happy Birthday, my Prince.”

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

173 notes · View notes

ficsyoumayhavemissed · 1 year

Text

Love is in the Chippy — savannah_blue

901 words / Harry x Louis

Harry likes to take his pet chicken Geraldine to the local chippy for lunch. When Harry runs into a handsome stranger one day at the chippy, Geraldine plays matchmaker. Written from the chicken's POV. Obviously.

This fic is an adorable and hilarious meet-cute told through the eyes of our favorite chicken.

Rainy Days, New Adventures — @greenblueish / bluegreenish

1.318 words / Harry x Louis

After a bad day, Louis decides to take a walk in the park where he meets a special man with a special little companion.

A lovely meet-cute fic. Even though it is very short, you can experience happiness through the very lovely way the author writes about it. Cats will always make things better!

Basking in our form of normal — ShadowInTheBackground

2.416 words / Niall x Liam

“It’s still an Easter egg.” “No it’s not.” “It’s an Easter egg, it had rabbits on it.” “Rabbit food has rabbits on it, does that make it an Easter egg?” “That’s different.”

One of the best ways to make yourself happy is by seeing others experience such a beautiful feeling and I think that’s what I liked the most about his little drabble. They fit together so well and to read about a pure love, as simple as it sounds, is more than enough to make you happy – even more if you get yourself some chocolate!

Blue lights to dreams — @itsnothesameasitwas / dragmedown

3.741 words / @harryshouseficfest / Harry x Louis

“I’m glad we’ve made it so far,” Louis said, smiling widely, giving a second look to the diamond ring in his ring finger. “I love you H.” After a few seconds Harry grinned at him and responded, “I love you more than anything else Lou, I’m happy that you are the one I’ll always come home to everyday”. The view of the Caribbean waters made their date better, but not perfect because that was a Harry and Louis thing, to be perfect together. OR a Little Freak fic

There’s only a very few fanfics of Harry and Louis as an older couple, and I think this one really fits the established relationship trope, showing that even when the time keeps passing you can always keep falling in love with your first love.

like air to me — @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright

5.533 words / @zouisfest / Zayn x Louis

Five times Louis’ smoke break brings back memories of Zayn and one time it brings him back to Zayn’s doorstep.

This is a beautiful, wistful, heart-breaking and heart-mending fic. This author knows how to tell any story with humor and lighthearted moments, no matter how heartbreaking it is. This fic has a @podfic-pals episode you can listen to here! (CW: lots of smoking)

The Moon’s Never Seen Me Before — @lovingstheantidote

7.688 words / Harry x Louis

Five moments that changed everything. Or, five times Louis left Harry speechless. Plus one time, he very much didn’t. Or, a Harry & Louis Gilmore Girls au.

This fic is a Gilmore Girls AU that captures the fun and sweetness of Luke and Lorelai’s relationship if Louis and Harry (respectively) walked in their shoes. It’s a wonderful treat to read.

—-

As always, support the authors by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

If you can’t get enough of our recs in this post, make sure to check out our tags page and scroll through the categories to see if you find any more fics you like! — FYMHM xx

#hledit #hlcreators #hljournal #1dsource #1dficvillage #tracksintheam #trackinghome #trackinghappily #ficsfor4am #fic rec #fymhm #april 2023

73 notes · View notes

districtunrest · 7 days

Note

Fanfic writer ask: ❤️👻🎁💛

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

gosh, Idk. here's one that sticks out to me right now, from a conversation Haymitch has with his therapist in SOO:

"You're in pain," says Wendell. With a hard, startled blink, Haymitch tries to walk back his thoughts to the present conversation. He feels ten steps ahead of Wendell. Though he's probably in the wrong direction, down an old path that goes nowhere new, just circles back over and over.

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

that Gale and Katniss do reconcile on some level one day.

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

from my Ozai-joins-the-search-for-Ursa fic that I am never going to post at this rate, lmao:

"Wait, wait, wait. Let me get this straight," Sokka says, waving his hands and consequently quieting the mass outburst at Zuko's announcement, that he's called an emergency meeting over. "You let Ozai - the ex-Fire Lord, the crazy bad guy who tried to take over the world, who almost killed Aang, who cost me my space sword - out of prison and he's on his way here right now?!" Having already taken a sip of tea, Zuko rolls it around in his mouth, savoring, stalling. It's ginseng he overbrewed, something that would make his uncle tut. He doesn't want to think about his uncle right now. Reluctant, he swallows hard and answers, "Yeah." They riot. Sokka nearly falls out of his chair and Aang flies out of his, both of them squawking indignantly. Katara storms off, then returns, only to storm off again, her hands up and mouth open as if she has much to say but is rendered speechless. "Listen, Sparky," Toph pipes up from her seat, where she balances precariously with her feet resting too close to the tea set on the table, "I didn't win a war for your daddy to be locked up only sometimes."

💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

not every sentence has to be perfect. it just has to do its job and then you can move on to the prettier or more gripping things.

send me an emoji!

#thelettersfromnoone #fanfic asks

2 notes · View notes

nimuetheseawitch · 11 months

Note

Noir

Gosh, I love this one! The challenge is that it's gonna be a little bit long in order to actually accommodate a mystery plot, so it's going to take me a bit. I've never written case fic before, so it's exciting (but also difficult - so much to keep track of).

Rodney McKay is an excellent detective, but not exactly a people person. His partner had often been the one to secure clients and he would just track down the information. But now that she's gone, he's running Carter and McKay Investigations on his own. He's savoring his whiskey and slipping into his memories when a gorgeous redhead walks in and drops a case in his lap that might just hold the key to how his partner went missing. McKay is on the case - looking for Sora Tyrus' father, the mythical potentia, and he has reluctantly accepted help from the mysterious John Sheppard. Can he outwit Kolya and his thugs while keeping off the radar of Helia and the Atlantis police force? Will he find what he's looking for?

Excerpt below the cut.

The sign on the door still said “Carter and McKay Investigations.” Rodney kept on meaning to get it changed, but every time he picked up his phone to do it, he came up with an excuse not to. Tonight he wasn’t lying to himself - he knew why he couldn’t get it changed. Rodney poured himself another glass of whiskey and let the hypnotic sound of the rain take him back in time.

“It should be McKay and Carter Investigations! I had my investigator’s license first!”

Sam laughed. “But you have to admit that, as well as being alphabetical, ‘Carter and McKay’ sounds better.”

“Just you wait - after we get paid for this case, I’m going to get that changed.”

If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that Sam was about to walk through that door to berate him for sitting around while she did all the legwork, or to argue with him until one of them had a breakthrough in the case. He could see her reclining in her chair, feet up on her desk, drinking coffee and correcting his corrections to the physics journals they pretended weren’t painful to read in their exile from academia.

The clack of heels on the hallway floor tore him away from his brooding. If that incompetent excuse for a secretary was trying to worm her way back after he’d sent her back to the temp agency, she was going to regret it. But when the door opened, his jaw dropped and he was momentarily rendered speechless.

“This is Carter and McKay Investigations, right?” The woman was gorgeous, even with her figure mostly hidden by a trenchcoat. The defiant cant of her chin was in stark contrast to her uncertain tone, and Rodney tried to shake off the distraction of her red, red lips and fiery curls.

“Yes, of course. It’s what it says on the door, isn’t it?” His tone was snappish, but it was late, and his office was technically closed, even if the door wasn’t locked.

She hesitated and tightened her grip on her wet umbrella. “Is this a bad time? I know it’s late, but I saw the light on, and I was hoping you could help me.”

He sighed and stood up. “No, it’s not a bad time. Dr. Rodney McKay, private eye. Have a seat and tell me what I can do for you this dreary evening.”

The woman gave a wary glance at the single, sad-looking chair in front of his desk and gingerly sat down. “It’s my father, Dr. McKay. He’s missing?”

“The police usually want to handle missing persons cases, Ms…?”

“Tyrus. Sora Tyrus.”

#wip #thanks for asking - i'm really excited about this one

7 notes · View notes

historia-vitae-magistras · 7 months

Note

I, uh…

Listen, you know how I say "I selected most of the fic"?

I seriously, 100%, selected every single line in the first part before taking a step back and saying "I don't think that's going to work this time." (Unless you want a break down of my reaction to every single line, in which case give me a few weeks to get through some assignments and I will 100% do it. Every line I went "shit, this is the best thing she's ever written" and then I read the next line and went "THIS is the best thing she's ever written" and so on.)

HOW DID YOU DO THIS. WHAT SORCERY.

I just… I tried to do the "best" lines but goddamn. Every single line was just another knife in the heart.

“May Mother strike me dead before I‌ lose two nephews and a brother at once,” He was very close now, and sometimes ‌Arthur remembered why there was a dragon on every flag his brother used.

I could not handle Rhys in this moment. Absolutely could not. Grabbing the skull before Arthur can, reminding Arthur that it's his name Alfred uses, Arthur being unable to push him, "since you rolled out of a fairy circle and into my lap", and then THIS. My fucking god. I don't have words. There is so fucking much tied up in "may mother strike me dead before I lose two nephews and [an absolute bastard who is my baby brother and has never stopped needing me to take care of him] at once." There is so much emotion and layers and history to process and I will be thinking about this forever.

A woman’s figure appears. His father’s mother, but not his grandmother. Her time is too far gone for him to know her now if he ever did.

Sobbing but he did meet her! Again, don't have words, way too much tied up in Alasdair asking his mother to help Matt survive, Matt not remembering it and not feeling a connection to her, and then him being sacrificed for magic that (I think?) she assists with in the same place she ensured his survival.

Also, not highlighted but very much screamt at: Brighid insisting on helping and shocking Arthur into silence. Again, too much, can't process.

A‌ branch nearly takes his head off as he smashes through the trees towards the sound. More laughter. His world was born from a bolt of it centuries before.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. No Thoughts, Just Screaming. And genuinely tearing up. I do not cry much at all, and never from reading, so IDK how you're doing this to me. Not complaining, actually quite happy, just confused.

A week without Alfred and he'd lost more love than Francois had given him in 150 years. Just a thread of it wound around his heart, hearing his name on the piano notes of his brother's laugh and pulled him forward. He dove.

I AM DYING. YOU HAVE KILLED ME. LIKE THEY KILLED MATT.

Just... FUCK I love those boys so much. And Alfred is going to be so angry when he finds out how they got Matt to him. And poor Matt... that comment about Francois broke my damn heart. What the hell. I'm not saying much this time (compared to some others) and it's because I have genuinely been rendered speechless.

Other things I lack the words for: how much I love your work and appreciate you sharing it. You're awesome, your work is awesome, and everything you post absolutely makes my day <3

THE WHOLE THING omfg I'm honoured 🥺🥺 thank you 😭😭😭 Matt's breaking my heart and it's going to be so bad but so good. Bestworst.

#the ask box || probis pateo #why i write #naxos

6 notes · View notes

bluemoonperegrine · 8 months

Text

Wolf Be Upon Yeet: Part II

In which @vicarious-rebel and I chatted via DM about the Werewolf By Night and Moon Knight crews in her headcanon which includes Elsa's pet eldritch horror Stony. Here's part I.

Stonyverse short fics: "Of blood and stone" and "Something Awful This Way Comes" (ao3 link).

This edition is more philosophical and about character development than silly. There's plenty of silliness to come!

Vi's text is black. bluemoonperegrine's text is blue. (I mean, of course.)

Talk to me about what 200+ year-old Jack is like. Other than [another character], I've never written a very old character before. I just... I have no idea. Can't fathom it.

When writing the [other character] I was able to lean on wide-eyed innocence and fish-out-of-water stuff.

Jack is not innocent. He's seen and been through A LOT, yet has held on to kindness and trust somehow.

Jack is a very tortured soul who tries really damn hard to keep his humanity intact no matter how hard it is and even though there are times when he fears he might let his anger slip and lean into the more bestial side of his nature, he still tries to compensate for it somehow

I imagine him much the same. At 42 he's still a baby werewolf so he's not too tortured yet.

I see him as someone who's also gone through a lot of heartbreak so he's not at all careless when it comes to who he lets in

What I don't get about long-lived characters is how they have the motivation to keep going. Life is a mix of good and bad, but after you've been through 200+ years of bad, is the good enough? Or is it hope or wanting to repent or help others?

In Jack's case it's a mixture of optimism and stubbornness. He sees just a little bit of hope in another's eyes and it's enough for him to keep going. And it's cumulative

Every time he helps a person or a monster and sees the relief/joy/gratitude in their eyes or when they gift him something as thanks for helping them, he clings to those things like a lifeline

then Jack looks into Stony's eyes and is like run away 😆

but Stony is an odd one so we can forgive him for that

In my headcanon, Jack avoids looking at Stony's eyes at all costs. Then again, he generally avoids Stony, so easy peasy

Jack: don't look it in the eye, don't look it in the eye, don't look-

meanwhile Marc is totally unbothered, playing around with it

Marc: Hey, Stony's eyes are like convex mirrors.

Steven: Like a funhouse! *makes faces*

Jack: *speechless* *aghast*

Jack would totally get worried over Marc being so casual about Stony

Jake, on knowing Stony wouldn't hurt them, likes to stick his mouth in its jaws and watch Jack become pale as a ghost just to mess with him.

I can imagine one of the moon boys casually leaning against Stony while snacking on something. He/they share the snack with Stony. Stony prefers freshly killed meat, but will settle for a good burrito.

gotta love everybody just acting natural around Stony like he's always been this way and Jack's just shaking at the knees

Jack has oddly inconsistent fear reactions, I think. Like Stony freaks him out but potentially getting found out at the Bloodstone funeral is like "this would be bad but eh"

a monster could kill him? not ideal but he can work around it

and Ted doesn't freak him out.

When they first met, was Jack not afraid from the start?

Maybe Jack stumbled upon Ted in a horrible situation and rescued him. No fear then.

saying something slightly too close to werewolf experience and someone gives him an odd look? fuck, shit, fuck i fucked up, i shouldn't have said that

it'd be very interesting to find out how he met Ted and whether or not he was afraid of him, considering Ted's acid is a reflex

it's funny; in my baby werewolf version of Jack he totally shrugs off saying stuff that suggests he's not fully human. Example: he tells a human he's working with an odd detail about a monster's scent. Gets a weird look.

Jack: I have a sensitive nose. *shrug*

Now, if things happen and he's exposed as being not human, he goes straight into "shit shit shit" mode.

yeah, I really want to write baby werewolf Jack meeting Ted. I have no idea how that happens yet. Won't let myself go down that rabbit hole just yet.

I think in my case it's because Jack didn't know he was a werewolf until it was too late, by that time he had heard many stories of monsters and knew how people reacted to them and he had to figure stuff out on his own because by that time his father was dead and he had no one to guide him

and he was pretty scared about being found out and killed and potentially his loved ones meeting the same fate

that's one of the things I hate about the comics canon: if you're a parent and know your kid is going to turn into a monster, how do you not prepare him or her? I mean, that's unconscionable.

Perhaps Laura wasn't sure if Jack and Lissa were cursed.

If I were her I'd have tried to prepare them anyway

I headcanon that Jack's father [Gregory] was actually working on what he thought was a cure to the curse through the Darkhold, so he didn't prepare his kids because he hoped he could break the curse before Jack turned 18

Part of why my WBN is such an AU is that I decided that Laura tells Jack and Lissa about the werewolf curse when Jack turns 17.

The kids don't believe her at first, of course.

I changed other stuff so that there's a viable pathway for them to believe her. Jack actually has some help and support, and shit still goes off the rails.

it didn't happen though, because he [Gregory] was killed before he got anywhere with it and since Jack's family started running after that, his mother was usually occupied with other things

When did Laura die, and where's Lissa?

I see Jack as eventually going solo so his mother and sister don't have to move constantly in fear for his life

he finds out from Lissa when their mother died but didn't find out when Lissa herself died until he passed through a graveyard one day and saw her name

How itinerant is Jack? Does he have multiple crash pads?

since Jack's always on the move she didn't always have a way to contact him

yeah, and much of their lives were pre-telephone

Jack moves around but really only bc he has to, he otherwise tries to settle down and I like the idea that he often stays at monster communities

He's lucky because he can pass for human most of the time

How do horses react to Jack?

horses are wary of him but generally only try to run if he gets too close or tries to touch them. That's how ppl get suspicious of him sometimes

the horses don't vibe with him and they're immediately alert

Jack was very happy when trains became commonplace lol

Trains are a godsend for Jack not least because he actually does enjoy traveling and trains allow him to go long distances

What's the deal with his werewolf form? Is it like the special? Does he have a hybrid form he can control?

the form in the special is what he really looks like when he transforms

he's a smol werewolf

at this stage he doesn't know how to control it or tap into it. But I have a darker version of him that absolutely has control over it

which does he prefer: cars or motorcycles? Also, how many languages does he speak?

cars bc they can act as shelter and a barrier to outside stimuli

I see him as speaking Spanish, English, French and a bit of Latin

#werewolf by night #moon knight #headcanon #eldritch horror oc #stonyverse

2 notes · View notes

enhaheeseung · 2 years

Note

HI! i still need to read your most recent fic, ill do that after i send this and give my feedback through my reblog <3. but you asked why we like those works so much so.. (im not sure if you really wanted a response but im here to give you one anyway!!!)

for train ride home, the way it was literally so corrupt but also so gentle really like 🧍🏾‍♀️🧍🏾‍♀️ made me speechless tbh. just the way you wrote him as a character. ive never read anything with that particular theme but its honestly one of my favorite things and maybe a small fantasy of mine... so to see it written about someone i think about quite often was really great. it also made me feel a little less weird about enjoying something like that.

for best friends, i really enjoy just the over all theme. its very much something i would do. the whole making a "mistake" and then pulling back. i think it was really relatable but also just the way you captured the jealousy of heeseung. the way that he got mad when the reader tried to do the same things he does. i genuinely wanted to smack him when he got all pissy over her wanting to go talk to the dude, but im glad he didnt let her.

for darling, i think i said this in my reblog but the end made my oral fixation go crazy. i write a little bit but theres a few things that im a bit nervous to write about, that being one of them. im not sure why, but like the whole falling asleep with it in your mouth thing makes me weak in the knees lmao

but overall i just really enjoy your work. while we obviously dont know heeseung in that particular light, i think that you write him in way that makes me think "oh yeah this makes sense" or "i could see him doing something like that". this makes reading so much more enjoyable cuz i feel like some people write without really connecting the theme/content with the person theyre writing for.

Thank you for the response cause I was dead serious😳

So first off

Ngl with train ride home I literally thought about what other girls fantasize about if that makes sense I did absolutely no research btw lol it’s just kinda a pattern that I see from other stories and themes geared towards the female audience so I kinda went off of that bad guy good girl vibe like obviously I didn’t use that theme but I’m using that as an example so for instance it’s kinda like you want a bad but good boy, so like a perv and a gentleman if anyone even understands what I’m trying to say you’d think I’d be good with words but here we are 🤡

Moving on

Best friends was just something I made on the spot with a ton of editing in between when I wrote his character for that I wanted to capture that uncertainty that so many men have when it comes to relationships as well as the female character being so in love with him that she kinda just takes what she can get and ends up making mistakes and hurting herself even more than he has I’ve seen this happen so many times before just without the happy ending and I also made his character with traits like a lot of guys In friendships where he kinda got the best of both worlds having a female best friend and girls on the side but he never really felt complete without the female lead

And last but not least

Darling there’s not much to say not gonna lie to you I was just in a moody mood when I wrote that it’s pretty short but definitely gets the point across if you’re into that kind of thing I’m glad you feel less weird about liking those things cause to me it’s not weird at all and just so you know I know more people that are into that than I can count on fingers with both hands

love that you mentioned being nervous to post some things cause so am I like there are themes I made but they will never see the light of day just cause they are a bit out there and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable plus y’all don’t need to know everything that goes on in this brain of mine

I do try to go outside the box with my writing I don’t read a lot of fanfics but I think a lot of my concepts and writing style has not been done before so I try to spice things up and keep it interesting I incorporate a lot of smut but I feel like In some of my stories I built a foundation that will make readers comeback or ask for a part 2 cause even though there’s smut in it I developed the characters well enough to where you want to see more little off topic but stories like “angel” or “train ride home” are themes I’ve never seen done before that and everyone seemed to really enjoy those so my mind runs miles trying to come up with new ideas

As for the way I write heeseung it’s just literally all the fantasies I have about him tbh I write him exactly how I think about him😌

Also this was really fun responding to actually like I wouldn’t mind going into more detail about my plots if anyone is interested kinda felt like a mini interview and I just love answering questions

Sorry this is so long without any punctuation forgive me😞

#enhypen heeseung #enhypen #lee heeseung #heeseung #engene #enha heeseung #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #asks #inbox

29 notes · View notes

peonyblossom · 1 year

Text

Waiting Game

Book: America's Most Eligible Pairing: Carson Stewart x MC Words: 452 Rating: Teen Summary: Just a drabble of Carson and MC finding out they're pregnant! AO3 link here A/N 1: MC is pregnant, but the way it's written MC could either be a woman, a trans man, or nonbinary, basically anything so long as they can have children lol A/N 2: This is my first Choices fanfic that I posted on AO3 exactly a year ago today! I never posted it on Tumblr because I didn't know then how reliant the fandom was on Tumblr fics and I much prefer AO3 for fanfic and had never posted a fic on Tumblr before. But since this fic is one year old, I decided to post it here now!

I pace back and forth outside the open bathroom door, biting my nails on one hand and nervously shaking the other. Carson hugs me from behind, stopping my pacing and stimming. I put my face in my hands and he kisses the top of my head.

“Ugh, this is taking forever,” I say into my hands.

“We only have two minutes left,” Carson responds, resting his chin on my head. How bad must I be if Carson has to be the voice of reason?

“Well that’s two minutes too many.” I look up at him through my eyelashes and he leans down to quickly kiss my lips, both of us smiling.

“Part of me hopes it’s negative,” Carson says suddenly.

“What? Why?” I asked, concerned.

“‘Cause then we get to keep trying.” He smiles mischievously, causing me to laugh dryly.

“Oh my God. Well, when it’s positive, we’ll celebrate. A lot.” I smile back at him, his arms still wrapped around my waist. He smiles widely at me and turns me around so we’re facing each other, his hands staying on my hips.

“Oh yeah?” He looks down at me and I place my hands on his chest, while biting my lip. He leans forward and slowly starts kissing down my neck. He then whispers into my ear, “Like this?” He returns his lips to my neck, leaving me too speechless to respond. He quickly nips at my skin with his teeth causing me to gasp. I move my hands lower on his body and start lifting the hem of his shift, taking my time so I can feel his torso underneath. Right when I get to the bottom of his chest, the timer rings out.

I immediately drop his shirt and look at the test on the bathroom counter, frozen. Seeing my anxiety, Carson grabs my hand and leads me into the bathroom. We stand at the counter in front of the upside-down test. Neither of us make a move to turn it over.

“On three?” I offer, still not actually moving.

“Yeah,” Carson breathes out.

In sync, we count, “One, two, three.”

Finally breaking our frozen state, I reach for the test with one hand while Carson reaches for my other one. I bring the test closer to our faces and quickly turn it over.

Plus sign. Positive. Pregnant.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” I scream as Carason’s hands find my waist once again, turning my body to face his, lightly pressing them together. I hold his face in my hands and kiss him passionately, not stopping until I need air.

“So, now we celebrate?” Carson smirks.

I roll my eyes but nevertheless respond, “Hell yes.”

#america's most eligible #Carson stewart #Carson Stewart x mc

5 notes · View notes

witchern · 1 year

Text

fanfic writer 20 questions.

i was tagged by @tuometarr, thank u bb!

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

40. the way i had to look it up alksjdfh

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

224,796

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

6 fandoms – supernatural, teen wolf, bbc merlin, the walking dead, dead poets society, i am number four (don't ask lmao).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

that'll be the day (teen wolf), if i die young (dps), i saw daddy shooting santa claus (spn/twd), with a whimper (spn) and come on get higher loosen my lips (spn).

5. Do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i do as often as i can! sometimes i genuinely get struck speechless from how kind some of them are and i eventually forget to reply, and then too much time passes where i feel dumb replying to it months later. i really do try to reply to all of them though lol.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

originally i was gonna say tripwire but then i remembered of tar and rust so i think that one takes the cake. both are midam.

7. Do you write crossovers?

i just have the one, and that was for some sort of secret santa gift exchange, otherwise i don't normally write them.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

nope!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

only occasionally – usually if there is smut, it's sprinkled in with a longer fic that has an actual plot. i only have three pwp fics from waaaay back in the day and i'm honestly afraid to look back and see how bad they are in hindsight lmao.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

as far as i know, nope.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! someone once asked to translate one of my midam fics into russian :)

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

back when i was in middle school, yes! i co-wrote my chemical romance rpf with a friend on a proboards forum where we'd take turns with each chapter (words that truly show my age).

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

midam. obviously. lmao.

14. What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

honestly none because i 100% intend to finish all the wips currently on my ao3 account! yes especially what will follow!

15. What are your writing strengths?

i think my dialogue is really solid! unrealistic dialogue is a massive pet peeve of mine in both original works and fanfic, so i'm more careful with the dialogue in my own stuff.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

i'm not really good at keeping track of things like how much time has passed in a fic, or where people physically are in relation to each other, so i guess paying attention to those little details is a weakness altogether.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

i don't mind reading it! i probably wouldn't write it though, unless it was something i had passing/personal knowledge of, like hebrew or tagalog.

18. What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

like i said earlier, my chemical romance rpf my beloved.

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

i never would've expected that adjust to the light would become my favorite fic i've ever written, but damn. it is. i'll be honest: sometimes i don't think i'll ever be able to top that one.

20. Who do you tag?

idk man! who's got stuff they wanna talk about?? no pressure though: @mycenaae @fandom-space-princess @midamdotlivejournaldotcom

#*t #about me #my fanfic

3 notes · View notes

taegularities · 2 years

Note

This is not really an amc question, but more of a little confession. I’m just amazed by your artistry. Sincerely, lemme tell you that for a long time I used to avoid reading smut fics (with exception of a few) because idk, from the other writers I’ve read here, only a few of them pictured their characters carefully instead of writing nothing except pwps (it’s not a bad thing to do, but like I’m not exactly a fan of reading pwp that’s like ~20k so I don’t mean any offense!) and then I came across your blog when ‘scattered stars’ showed up on the ‘for you’ panel. The summary felt a little intriguing so I sidelined the thought of smut and went on to read it and istg, I WAS BLOWN AWAY. The way the storytelling progresses, even though it’s written in a non-linear way is soooo amazing. And thanks to you I sort of creeped into getting back into my horny self again😅 after that I’ve read love me better, changes in between and right amount of wrongs, only to find out that my fav fic from your collection just changed every single time so it’s a struggle to pick out a favourite. But the one single fic that has me feel all the different emotions I never knew existed, is probably scattered stars. A masterpiece indeed🦋

oh my god, wait, i'm... kinda speechless and don't know what to say 😳 this is such a damn sweet message ?! the fact that you read my stuff despite the smut... that you enjoyed scattered stars so much. all of the mentioned fics, actually! 🥺 i totally get it – these days, i find it hard to read or write pwps, too (idk how i managed to just post one after so long :')). pwps are ofc nothing bad at all, but i get u.

and gosh, yeah non-linear 😭 my writing back then was still somewhat new, so ye :') but i'm still so happy u loved it so much (and found ur horny self again lmaooo). and omg, u struggled to pick a favourite? please, why is that so sweet :(( no but truly, this made my day and i am so so flattered that u reached out and told me all that. thank u, seriously 🥺🤍

#god that's exactly what i needed today.. thank u so damn much <3 #fic: scattered stars #notes for rid 🌹#anon

2 notes · View notes

ficsilike-reblogged · 2 years

Text

Snow In The City

Summary: Peter Parker has been the bane of J. Jonah Jameson's existence since he started as a photographer at The Daily Bugle. But, as snow starts to fall over the city, Peter realizes it might not be so bad.

A/N: This includes canonically Jewish Peter Parker but it also has a few mentions of Christmas trees and lights. It is just a soft little thing for the softest boy. This takes place about seven years after TASM2 so Peter is about 25. I hope you all have a happy holiday or just a nice, long weekend. This fic is NOT spoiler-free for Spider-Man: Far From Home.

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker/F!Reader (no Y/N but there is a nickname)

Rating: G! A soft holiday fic with only a touch of angst

Word Count: 4.8k (this might be the shortest thing I have written all year)

Or read on Ao3 here!

The Daily Bugle had opened over one hundred years ago and hadn’t changed much in all of that time. They hadn’t moved an imposing brick and mortar building in Midtown and had, over the decades, made sure to buy up the entire building. A print newspaper turned into a successful news broadcast as well. And the pay was fairly decent, allowing Peter to keep his (tiny) studio apartment in Queens and still keep his night patrols, too.

But it was blatantly obvious that the owner and publisher of the paper and broadcast studio, J. Jonah Jameson, had it out for Spider-Man and anyone associated with him. And that included the man Jameson had hired to take pictures of him. And this time, Jameson decided to show his distaste for Parker by not having his weekly check at the front desk with Betty.

“I’m so sorry, Parker,” Betty said, pushing her glasses up her nose with her knuckle. She was looking exceptionally frazzled and her cheeks bloomed a vibrant red when Peter had asked where his promised check was located and she had to admit that it had been sent downstairs. “I sent an email down to the mailroom clerk but she never answers me-”

“You guys don’t even have my address on file,” Peter said, a touch of annoyance pressing into his tone. “Where was he trying to send it?”

Betty could only shrug and then told him he might have a chance of intercepting it if he went down to the mailroom himself. And that was how he found himself going down into the sub-basement of this ancient building, further down than he had ever been before. The elevators door opened and the sound of 60’s rock blared over blown speakers as a handful of people stood at their stations, sorting through the comically large stacks of envelopes and packages and everything else, all bundled up against the cold temperature of the room. There didn’t seem to be any insulation or heating and the cold early December air from outside had filtered into the room without obstacle.

Peter pulled his jacket a little tighter as he stepped inside and walked up to the first man he saw. “Hey man, I’m sorry to bother you, but Betty from upstairs said that my check got sent down here by accident?”

The man, a grizzled mall Santa if he’d ever seen one, huffed as he looked up from his crumpled package with illegible addressee. “Ya got talk to m’jewel, kid. She’ll sort ya out.”

“…Jewel?”

The angry Santa looked up at him, his lips set in a thin line beneath his unkempt mustache. “Yeah. Jewel.”

“He means me,” came a laughing voice from behind the angry man.

Peter leaned to the side to see…you.

You waved him back with a smile, setting aside the haphazard stack of mail you were sorting to lean on the rusted table that was your station. “How can I help you?”

Peter opened his mouth to open but no sound came out. Nothing. You were beautiful. Even with the ridiculous earmuffs that were the color of cartoon grapes covering your ears. “Ah, your charms have made the poor kid speechless, My Jewel! Another one bites the dust!” One of the other mail room attendants cackled behind his grey, knitted scarf.

You took a package from your station and hurled it at his head. He dodged and it definitely sounded like something broke but no one seemed to care.

“Is…is your name Jewel?” Nailed it.

But you shook your head with another smile, uncaring of the continued comments from all the other people in the room, and tapped your nametag-it did not read Jewel. “Just a nickname. Everybody down here calls me MJ. Well, almost everyone.”

“For…My Jewel.” His throat continued to tighten over the syllables.

“And he’s smart, too!”

“Shut up, Charles! I’m not gonna knit you another scarf if you don’t leave him alone.” You turned back to Peter with another soft smile, as if you hadn’t just screamed at yet another man. For what it was worth, Charles seemed to find the entire exchange funny. “Whaddya need?”

“My check,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Betty said it was sent down here by accident?”

Your brow furrowed. “It would have arrived in the mail—probably by tomorrow.”

Peter shook his head. “My address isn’t on file and I just… My Aunt May really liked these gloves and they’re on sale—finally—but the sale ends tonight and I really wanted to get them for her for Hanukkah and she-”

You waved a hand. “Got it. Need the money. What would the name be?”

“Peter. Peter Parker.”

Your smile widened. “You take all those super amazing shots of Spider-Man? You’re so talented!”

Before Peter could respond or even think to cover his fire-red blush, you had spun on your heel and marched toward a large, cloth bin at the bottom of a metal chute near the back wall. He glanced around at the other mail clerks, all of them older men who seemed to find the entire situation hilarious, and then slowly followed you as he skirted around the tables. You were bent over, nearly submerged in the cart filled with letters and packages sent in from other floors to be sent out, the tips of your toes sliding across the surprisingly clean floor as you continued to dig. Just as Peter was about to ask if you needed help, you pulled back, a rumpled white envelope in your hand. Your earmuffs were slightly askew but you didn’t seem to mind as you handed over the bit of paper.

“This it?”

Peter fumbled with the envelope, tearing it open, and heaved a sigh as he saw the promised check. “Yeah. Yeah, thank you so much. I-”

You waved him off again. “Don’t mention it.”

Peter nodded but you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, they were a touch too cold but something zipped up his spine at the contact and he could only stared at how you were touching him. “I mean it. I have a reputation. Tell no one.” But then you winked and told him to go buy the gloves. “Have a Happy Hanukkah, Parker.”

And then, as if the universe itself was trying to force you into his life, you appeared again. Your drink of choice was chocolate milk, Peter found. The milk cartons with the bendy straws you could get at any corner bodega were your favorite. You hadn’t looked embarrassed at all when you ran into him with an armful of the treat a few days before Christmas at the bodega down the street from his apartment.

“Did she like the gloves?” You asked, dropping the pile of cartons onto the counter.

Peter noticed one strawberry milk carton amongst the pile. “Yeah. Aunt May loved them. Thank you, again.”

“You’re buying me out of all my stock, MJ,” Phil, the tried-and-true cashier said, fighting a smile as he bagged her prize.

“Every Sunday, Phil. I need my fix.” You smiled at him as you paid, dropping the change into the plastic cup by the register. “See you, Parker.”

Peter watched you go, his throat still tight, but he managed a squeaky, “see you,” just as you walked out the door and into the grey and black sludge of the half-melted snow.

“She’s a good one,” Phil said, pulling Peter’s attention. “Be good to her.”

“We’re not even-”

“Do you want your sandwich or not?”

And Peter thought he had been so careful. So purposeful in his avoidance of you. But that had quickly been nipped in the bud. Because not more than five days later, another few inches of snow had fallen over the city before the New Year and Jameson had once again sent Peter’s check ‘to be mailed.’ When the elevator doors opened in the sub-basement, it was a little quieter than last time and you seemed to be the only one down in the mail room. Your earmuffs were a cheery teal this time and had embroidered snowmen on each puff.

Your head popped up at the sound of the elevator doors closing and you smiled as you spotted him. “Hey, Parker. I was wondering when you were gonna come see me again.” Before he could even explain that he was down here for his money again, you pulled another crumpled envelope from your stack and handed it to him with a smile. It was his check.

He felt his cheeks burn a bit as he hastily tucked it away and glanced around at the empty room. “Where is everyone?”

“Oh, they’re all off for the New Year.” You pushed a neat stack of envelopes into a bin labeled USPS and then dropped a small package into a container with the FedEx logo.

“You’re all alone?”

“Well, you’re here,” you said with a wink. “But yes, all the guys wanted the holiday off and I get paid time-and-a-half to stay. This time of year is usually slow down here anyway. I don’t mind.”

But Peter saw the way your lip didn’t quite curl to meet your eyes with your next smile and something in his chest hurt. “Do you need help?” He asked, already taking off his backpack.

But, again, you waved him off. “No, no. I’m okay. I should be able to clock out around three and that’s all that matters. Go, say hi to Spider-Man for me.”

“You sure?” He asked, not ready to leave just yet. His backpack remained at his feet—he needed to be positive. And he didn’t like the way you wouldn’t look at him, your beautiful eyes now trained on the scribbled name on the envelope in front of you.

“Yeah. Happy New Year, Peter.”

And then…maybe, just maybe, Peter was letting himself smile again when he thought of you.

“A record snowfall for this time of year,” the meteorologist droned on, smiling for the camera, as Peter slunk through the broadcasting rooms. Bright red hearts were strung up over the anchors’ desk, and Peter was pretty sure he heard one of the correspondents trying to tell people where to go for Valentine’s Day dinner tomorrow night and the like but Peter was hardly listening to that either.

Betty had been pale with nerves when she’d told him that Jameson “accidentally” sent Peter’s check down to this floor, mixed up with a check meant for one of the cameramen.

Sure. Peter definitely believed that.

Something rippled up his spine and he turned around to see you smiling at him from behind a mail cart. “Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi,” he whispered in return feeling his lips start to push into a smile.

You curled a finger at him and Peter, despite needing to leave to meet May for dinner, slid a little closer. Your hand slipped into one of the cart’s compartments and you pulled out an envelope. “Found this for you.” A tiny red heart sticker was placed on the envelope’s seam and Peter felt his cheeks warm as his thumb brushed against the slick sticker. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Peter,” you whispered as you wheeled your cart away.

But just before you were out of reach, Peter shot his arm out and curled his hand over your wrist, jerking you to a stop. “Happy Valentine’s Day, MJ.”

And you smiled.

Peter had tried, rather valiantly, to push you and your pretty smile and soft eyes from his mind for a few weeks after Valentine‘s Day. It did not work.

“So, what’s the deal with the whole ‘My Jewel’ thing?” Peter asked in a hushed tone as he waited for you, yet again, to try to track down his check.

Charles looked up at him and chuckled before looking over to Ray—the mall Santa—and shouting, “Hey, he wants to know why we call ‘er MJ!”

Peter felt his stomach sink at being found out but as he glanced back at you, you were seemingly too engrossed in nearly being swallowed by the mail cart to hear him or care. But he did like the way your tongue peeked out from behind your lips with your effort. It was…cute. Your earmuffs were a periwinkle blue.

“Our girl just moved here, took this job, and somehow managed to catch the eye of one of the big-shot lawyers upstairs. They went on one date and he was sure he was in love with her. MJ did not feel the same.”

“Because she’s a smart girl,” Ray grumbled, not looking up from his stack of letters.

“Right. But the kid didn’t take a hint. One day, he marches down here and starts spewin’ how she was beautiful and perfect and he wanted to marry her and he, I shit you not, kept calling her ‘My Jewel!’ ‘My Jewel, I love you!’ Ivan,” Charles said, hooking a thumb at the large, tattooed man who never seemed to speak, “eventually helped him leave. That guy never showed his face down here again but ‘My Jewel’ stuck. Got shortened to MJ.”

“Talking about me, Charles?” You asked, stepping to his side. You had the familiar white envelope in your hand that you handed over to Peter. “Don’t believe a word he says.”

“I dunno,” Peter said, pushing the envelope into his pocket, “I think I can trust him.”

“Dangerous last words, Parker,” you said with another smile. That damned smile.

And that was it, really. You were his friend.

And maybe Peter felt the urge to know if your skin was as warm as he thought it was. To know if your lips were as soft as they looked. To feel you beneath his hands, to know what it felt like to hold you. But friends don’t think like that about other friends.

And weeks turned to months turned to years, and you were still filled with easy smiles and biting sarcasm that would always coax a smile and a blush from Peter, even on his worst days.

He taught you how to skateboard in an abandoned building during an early spring heat wave. You taught him how to rebind a book when the power went out during a summer thunderstorm. You both were kicked out of a Reiki seminar and then raced each other to the nearest bodega for sandwiches. You once produced a pair of stupidly fluffy felt and velvet tiger ears fastened to a headband from god knows where and set them on his head with a smile and a laughing, “Happy Halloween, Tiger.” And you always fretted over his split knuckles and black eyes and always cleaned them up in the bleach-scented staff bathroom off the mail room. You never asked what he did to get these injuries but, after the third time, you murmured with the last placement of a Star Wars band-aid on his arm, “you have a good, soft heart, Peter. Don’t let the world make it hard.”

Friends. Good friends. That’s what you were—and Peter was (almost) happy with that. But then you would smile at him and he would feel his entire chest try to cave in on itself.

You were good and special and beautiful. And it took Peter an embarrassingly long time to notice that he’d once again started pulling his punches, stopped trying to make any criminal he caught as Spider-Man bleed and hurt. But when he really thought about it, after Aunt May said he looked happy, “I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time, Peter,” he realized it started when he met you.

And that was why he wanted to protect you. From anything. For anyone. Even yourself. And Peter Parker was not a creep, thank you very much.

He just…liked to make sure you were doing okay. Last week you nearly fell onto the subway tracks because someone bumped you and three days before that, you had been knocked off your feet by a bicyclist. It was some sort of miracle that you weren’t in a full-body cast 8 months out of the year.

And friends look out for each other, right? That’s what you were: friends.

Don’t you think she’d want you to be happy? Aunt May’s question echoed in head as he watched you push a stack of letters into a box labeled ‘USPS’ before clocking out. Peter pulled himself back up into the shadows of the elevator shaft and out into the waning sunlight to ‘wait’ for you outside. This had been your routine for nearly three years.

Three wonderful, terrible years.

“Hey,” you murmured as you stepped outside, pulling your ear muffs over your head. “You haven’t been out here too long, have you?”

“No. You’re always on time.”

Your bright smile was contagious and you knocked your shoulder into his, your breath crystallizing in front of you as you started the walk back to the subway station and the slightly convoluted ride back to Queens. “Want to split a Reese’s with me?” You asked, as you always did, as you took the stairs two at a time, making Peter bite his tongue.

“Sure,” he answered as he always did as you reached the bottom step—you were already rifling through your bag that looked too small to carry everything Peter knew you had stashed beneath its zipper. And you held the promised candy aloft like a trophy just as the subway arrived. You looked so pleased.

So beautiful.

“OH!” You said as you both pushed into the subway cab, once again scrambling for your bag, uncaring of who you elbowed as you shoved your hand around in search of something. Peter grabbed the candy from you, allowing you to search with both hands in your seemingly-bottomless purse before you once again let out a triumphant huff and held up a crumpled white envelope. “This was sent down to us. Again.”

Peter took the proffered envelope, already knowing what was inside.

“You should really set up direct deposit, you know,” you said, shoving the finger of your glove into your mouth to yank it off before grabbing the candy from him and opening the bright orange wrapping.

The candy was gone before they even pulled away from the station and you were asleep on his shoulder within ten minutes. Peter let himself smile as you curled a little further into his side, as you always did on your ride home on Thursdays.

Wait. When had he settled into a routine?

Peter asked himself that question over and over again as the subway continued on, only pausing when he had to gently shake you awake so you could switch lines. Your warm hand curled into the back of his jacket as he led the way through the stations and into the other subway car, leaning against him when you both failed to snag a plastic seat this time around. You smiled at him with sleepy eyes and Peter wondered…just for a moment or two, if this is what you looked like in the morning, rumpled from sleep, and smiling at the person on the pillow beside you. Was it him you were smiling at?

Your stop came a few minutes later and Peter walked beside you, laughingly debating the ethics of the Jedi Council as the snow crunched beneath your boots, making sure you arrived home safely. Your apartment building was a lot like his—a nondescript beige brick with only a few stories, and he could see a few menorahs and Christmas trees peeking out from behind curtains.

“Same time tomorrow?” You asked, as you always did, with a hopeful smile on your face.

“Same time tomorrow.”

Your smile grew as you murmured your goodbyes and you turned to punch in the code to the door but pivoted back with a huff. “I, um, got you something.” Again, you unzipped your purse and shoved your gloved hand inside to fish something you, quickly producing a small box, wrapped in white paper, glittering with blue snowflakes. “It isn’t anything big, but I hope you like it?” It sounded more like a question as you shoved the box at him. “Happy Hanukkah, Peter. See you tomorrow.” And then you dashed away into your apartment, steel door slamming behind you.

Peter stared at the door for a moment, the box still in his hands, before he slid his finger beneath your wonky bit of tape and unwrapped your gift. Inside the box was a new set of wheels for his skateboard and a small picture from last year’s Daily Bugle holiday party. Or, what you two had done instead of partaking in the company bullshit. You were both sitting in one of the mail bins, legs dangling over the side and sipping on cheap champagne from plastic cups. While you both had decided to hold up peace signs to the person taking the picture, you were looking at Peter with a smile on your face that clearly wasn’t meant for the camera. A picture taken a beat too early. It was that same, soft, easy smile that you only gave him and the one he thought about when he was trying to sleep.

Peter put the wheels in his backpack and then carefully slid the tiny photo into the fold of his wallet. He could ask May if she had a frame later that night.

When the little photo was settled on his messy desk in a scratched silver frame after dinner with May, Peter suited up for his nightly patrols. There was a few attempted purse snatchers, a pair of middle-aged men trying to rob a toy store after it closed, and not much else. It seemed with the newest blanket of snow, the city’s crime had hibernated for the night.

But then he heard a scream that quickly stopped. Peter quickly swung three streets over and saw-

-you.

Peter silently crawled down the wall of the building and saw as you were struggling with a pair of men, trying desperately to hold onto your small shopping bags and your purse in the dark mouth of an alley. But then one of the men shoved you back, cracking your head against the brick of the building behind you and making you fall but you refused to let go of your bags. One of the men continued to pull at the items in your hands while the other drew back his leg and was about to land a kick to your ribs before he was webbed to the side of a rusted dumpster. The other would-be mugger turned and was quickly stuck to the brick wall by a web covering his face.

Peter jumped to your side and wrapped his arm around your waist, hauling you to your feet for just a moment, before shooting another web and swinging away.

“Spi-Spider-Man?” You asked as you instinctively wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you continued to fly through the cold winter night.

Peter nodded, trying to find the air to pull into his lungs. For all the years he had known you, he’d never had to be Spider-Man with you. He could just be Peter. “Are-are you hurt?” He asked as he set you down on the snow-covered roof of some coffee shop. His hands brushed against you neck, down your arms, over your hips—anywhere you could have been hurt, he looked for an injury he needed to help clean and heal.

“I’m okay. I’m okay,” you said with the distinct sound of tears in your voice.

Peter looked at you and felt his heart sink as he watched the first tear slid down you cheek. “You’re not okay.”

“No, no, I am. I’m just…” You trailed off, and for a moment Peter thought you were just going to cry, but you suddenly leapt forward and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tight.

You had hugged him before. Hugged him plenty of times. Hugged him until his shirt smelled like your perfume for the rest of the day. But this felt different. You pulled back just enough to rest your forehead against his with a stuttered breath, your eyes still closed. But Peter could only look at you.

You were so beautiful, even with traces of drying tears on your cheeks.

Almost instinctively, Peter felt his hands curling a little tighter around your waist, trying to bring you closer. He could tell you right now, tell you that he was Spider-Man, tell you his biggest secret.

But then he thought of Gwen and what had happened to her…

Before Peter could make up his mind, you pulled back and curled your arms over your stomach as Peter’s arms fell back to his sides. “I, um, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re great! I mean, you are great. You’re Spider-Man! And I’m sure the whole saving people and swinging them through the city gets you plenty of dates. But I…” Now your hands moved to hide your face. “Ugh. This sounds so stupid.”

“It’s okay,” Peter said, voice soft. He never did like seeing you uncomfortable.

“I just really like this guy, you know? I think you’d like him, too! And I just…” You shrugged, dropping your hands down to your sides. “Sounds kinda stupid.”

You hadn’t actually said anything but Peter stayed quiet, mind whirring with thoughts. Who did you like? Why did you think this was stupid? Why would Spider-Man like this guy, too?

“You saved me tonight and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.” Your smile was back, along with your shy smile. “But he makes me smile, like, all the time. Makes me laugh. Gives good hugs—yours are a solid second place. And he may not be able to swing me around New York with magical webs-”

“They’re not magic.”

“-but I still think he’s pretty special.” But your shy smile started to fade as you looked at him, morphing into the perfect picture of concerned confusion. “What is happening to you?” You reached out to him and he raised his hand to meet yours but a terrible, bright golden glow blinded him and then you were gone.

It took exactly 17 minutes and 5 seconds for Peter to realize he had been transported to a different dimension. A different dimension with a different New York, a different Peter Parker, a different Daily Bugle, and no you. But with the help of a few high schoolers, yet another Peter Parker, and a wizard (??? Peter was still processing that), he had managed to keep another kid from knowing what it meant to be too late, what it meant to lose someone he loved like that.

But something else stuck in his mind. The other two Peters had women they loved and who loved them. And both of them were named MJ.

MJ. MJ. MJ. My Jewel. It had only been a few days since his strange fall through the multiverse. Only a few days since he had saved that Peter’s MJ. Only a few days since the other Peter told him to keep his heart open and to be kind. Gwen would always be with him, but he finally realized that what May had said to be true—she would want him to be happy. Either it was a cruel twist of fate or an olive branch from the cosmos to realize you had slipped into his life so easily and be so patient with him. His MJ.

Another shot at happiness.

The city was aglow with holiday lights and the sound of bells strung up over doors that would ring with every opening or closing. But all Peter could see was you, waiting outside the Bugle with your earmuffs already on, looking around the street, trying to find someone in the faces walking by. But then you spotted him and you ran through the crowds, shoving by a man who shouted at your back, but you were undeterred, throwing your arms around Peter with a watery laugh.

Peter closed his eyes and pressed his cheeks against yours as he held you tight. You were here and in his arms.

“Aunt May said you just disappeared,” you said as you stepped back just enough to look at him. “I was so worried, Peter!”

He reached up and gently held your cheek for a moment, feeling your warmth through his gloves before he brushed his lips against yours. Your breath stuttered against his mouth for just a moment before you reciprocated, pressing your lips against his a little harder, just enough for him to feel you smile.

Peter’s hand slipped down your arm to tangle his fingers with yours as he pulled back just a fraction. “C’mon. We can talk on the way home. I have a lot to tell you.”

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #nwh spoilers #no way home spoilers

194 notes · View notes

ysljoon · 3 years

Text

Personal Business|CEO!Jeon Jungkook x Assistant Reader

This fanfic is mature so please avoid if you are not 18+ this is also a yandere fic so there are sensitive topics.

Warnings: Yandere themes, noncon sex, public sex, crying, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk (jungkook has a filthy mouth christ), creampie, assault?

Being the personal assistant to Jeon Jungkook definitely has been a rollercoaster of experiences, but after working with him for about 2 years now you’ve gotten used to his erratic behavior such as mood swings and unreasonable demands. Everyone in the workplace has admired how long you’ve stuck around, but the paycheck you receive every two weeks is too pretty to pass up. You saw the listing for the job on a job search website and the pay per hour almost had you pass out, but once you came into the office you realized you were getting paid so generously almost as a test to see if the money could keep you around and it sure has.

Today Jungkook was in an extra gruff mood for the day because he had plenty of meetings to go through and not enough time for proper breaks and that’s the least ideal day for him. He loves breaks as much as any other person, but just tenfold. Everyone in the office is allowed a 45 minute lunch break, but since Jungkook is the CEO he will disappear on 2 hour breaks and not a single person knows where he goes. Not even you and people don’t understand how since you’re practically his right hand. You pay no mind to his whereabouts since it doesn’t affect and busy yourself with whatever tasks Jungkook left for you to do. Today he left no tasks for you since he’s been cooped up in his office occupied with other business officials. You haven’t been able to meet with him to get a briefing for the day so now you’re talking with Taehyung at his cubicle while you share a small pizza he ordered for lunch.

“Taehyung, I’m telling you right now there is no way that Joon and the receptionist don’t have something going on! They’re always eyeing each other up and Namjoon is always requesting for her to come to his office. It’s highly suspect.” You explained your reasoning to Taehyung exasperated and took another bite of your crust.

“Listen Y/N, all I’m saying is that it’s way too obvious for it to actually have any worth. Anyways you know how Mr. Jeon feels about workplace romance; he absolutely abhors the thought and would probably fire people on the spot if he ever found out.”

You continued to have your disagreement with Taehyung for a little while more, but what you didn’t realize was that Jungkook was done with his meeting a while ago and was watching you on his laptop through the camera system and was frowning deeply watching you fraternize with your coworker. He was tired of watching you practically throw yourself at Taehyung when you were his and only his. Jungkook got up from his desk and strode to Taehyung’s cubicle to stop this foolishness immediately.

“Mr. Kim, is there a reason why you are holding up my assistant from her work and why the expense report I asked you to do isn’t done?” Jungkook had a look on his face that he wanted to wring Taehyung’s neck and he was very close to, but he didn’t want to scare you off. He had to have you in his possession before he got rid of anybody that even tried to look in your direction so for right now this was his version of playing it cool.

“I-I’m very sorry sir it won’t happen again and I’ll get right to it!” Taehyung quickly turned to his computer and fervently typed in his password to get to work immediately. Jungkook then turned to you and grabbed you by the arm to drag you to his office. You were shocked and stunned by this action because sure he had talked to you roughly, but had never put his hands on you. He swiftly pulled you into his office and slammed the door. He even fully shut his blinds. This started to have you scared. He had this look in his eyes that made your body start to tremble. “S-sir I’m sorry for not working! I just wasn’t able to get the daily briefing for today so I tried my best to get work done. I had a lot of free time so I thought to spend it with Taehyung. I’m sorry if that was wasting company time you can deduct it from my pay!” You were heavily breathing by the time you were done with your panicked spiel. Jungkook chuckled at your anxiety and strode towards you till you were backed up into the wall and at this point you thought he could feel how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

“Darling, if you really want to make it up to me you can kiss me.” He purred in your ear and it sent sickening shivers up your spine. Your head started to spin when you felt him plant his lips on the column of your neck and work his way up to your jaw. You tried to shove him off, but naturally he was able to overpower you and he used his leg and chest to trap you between him and the wall.

“My dear Y/N, I hope you cooperate with me if you know what’s good for you.” He slyly grinned against your skin and started to passionately kiss you. To really show he was in charge he bit down on your bottom lip with force you have never felt before. It had you cry out in pain, but you were quickly silenced when you felt your boss reach under your skirt and start to trace circles against your cunt. He placed a hand against your mouth and gave you a threatening look you have never seen. It was so sinister it had you squirming away from his touch. You thought you could have gotten away but by the time you were able to slide past his body he was grabbing your wrist and slamming you down against his desk which sent things tumbling down to the floor.

“Jungkook, please stop, I'm so sorry!” You didn’t even realize you were bawling at this point, but he ignored your pleas and sobs and continued with his sinister acts. He grasped your wrists in one hand and with his other he slid your panties off and inserted a single long finger into your cunt. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight and wet for me.” He kept pumping his finger into you until he felt like he could insert another one into you. Once the second finger was deep in your hole Jungkook started to pick up the pace and you couldn’t even cry out to what he was doing to you. You felt numb and helpless and wanted him to stop, but your efforts were useless.

“Kitten, I want to hear you. I want to hear how good I make you fucking feel. I want to see you get dumb on my fucking fingers and cock that you don’t even know what to do with yourself. I want you to beg to have your dirty cunt stretched out.” Hearing your boss talk to you like this makes you speechless, but you listen to him because you don’t know what other worse things he can do to you. You let your body succumb to what he’s doing and you let out small moans and whimpers and this makes him let out his own grunts and groans in response. Before you can assess what’s happening when you feel his fingers slip out of your soaked pussy, Jungkook is shoving his cock balls deep into you and you gasp for air feeling the heavy pressure between your legs. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust and starts to pound into you. You cry out in both pain and pleasure from hearing skin slap against skin. You feel close to an orgasm and tears are rolling down your cheeks from desperation. “Sir please let me cum! I need to cum so bad! Please let me cum all over your cock.” You can’t even process the words you’re saying, you just want to have your release so badly. Jungkook slaps your ass and groans a ‘fuck yes baby’ and just seconds after that action you’re creaming on his thick cock. You feel your walls pulse around your boss and this brings him close to the edge and he’s losing control over himself. He starts to wild slam into your cunt and after a few more pumps he’s spilling his cum into you and you feel delirious from everything that had just happened. You hear him adjusting himself behind you, but you can’t bring yourself to even move at the moment. You hear his steps come close to you and you just lie there motionless while you wait for him to speak. “I can’t wait to bring you home with me princess.” After that sentence all you can recall is a blunt object coming in contact with your skull and nothing else.

Notes: thank you so much for reading I’ve been on a pretty solid hiatus and will crosspost what I have written on AO3 on to here too because I have some fics there that I haven’t posted on to Tumblr! If you enjoyed please like and reblog it really helps and you can also give me a Kofi.

#yanderebts #yandere jeon jungkook #yandere jungkook #yandere bts #yandere bts fanfiction #ceo jeon jungkook #dubcon/noncon #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #smut #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #tw dubcon #tw dark content #bangtan sonyeondan

778 notes · View notes

mywritingonlyfans · 3 years

Text

Angst fic with Damiano David

prompt: a angsty about reader being sad (dami bff) 'cause damiano doesn't feel the same way romantically. ps. there's a lot of victoria de angelis being a angel in this fic, and it's basically about reader going through it.

warnings: none? it's just a bit sad and longer than usual.

All the soft touches still tingled all over your body. His scent was until now stuck to you, you never thought you’d feel happy to have woody essence along with cigarette smoke on you.

Folding the sleeve of his sweater, you put your tea in one of the cups you always use when you were there. His cotton piece was comfortable, making you didn't regret wearing it in the morning; it was cold and wearing your tank top from the night before didn't feel right. The shorts from yesterday, that were making your legs freeze were enough trouble for you to handle. The remnants of your clothes and belongings were collected from the floor of his room and placed carefully on his headboard, you made sure you were being quiet. Damiano has always been a heavy sleeper, but your counscious prevented you from risking disturbing him when he looks so peaceful. You had already spent much time at his place so you memorized where every thing in his kitchen - and others rooms - was; baking eggs and making tea wasn’t a mystery for you. You had even separated a Tylenol tablet for Damiano, so he could have it with his tea when he woke up with a wicked hangover. He wasn't the type to get drunk and forget what he did, nor were you. Since when you were teenagers, you have gone out and been drunk together a lot of times, and although your feelings were already present, nothing never happened. This time, however, alcohol helped injecting a dose of courage on him. Being honest with yourself, you didn't remember who started it; but the kiss in the midst of the loud music, his hand on the back of your neck, the exchanging glances while dancing and the moment he took you home, they were pretty vividly in your mind. You still felt relaxed, as if his sweaty body was still over yours. Minutes with your eyes closed was enough to feel his eyes roaming your body all over again.

“Hi,” he said in a slurred voice, cutting off your line of thoughts. You jumped, briefly scared but soon turned your attention to reality; a tired Damiano scratching his eyes in front of you.

He was dressed, wearing sweatpants and sweatshirt, duly comfortable according to the weather.

“Headache?” You knew he was. He was always a good drinker, he put up with it a lot, but he was never one to get rid of the effects of alcohol on the next day. You, on the other hand, got on better with this issue; fortunately from the night before, only the good moments remained with you.

“Yeah, a bit,” he giggled. “What a night, I’d say.” He added, in a lower tone. What was acceptable, you also felt a bit weird to be in front of him.

“I got you some pills,” you pointed it out to him on the counter, trying to maintain a normal behavior; with no shacking voice or sweaty hands. Quite impossible. “I made tea too.”

“Dear God, you’re a life saver!” He smiled at you, eyes crinkled and all of his perfect teeth on display. Contagious.

You grinned, feeling your body getting lighter. “No worries. I’m glad to help.”

“Y’know, when I woke up and saw that you weren't there I thought you were gone. You know? Friendship destroyed and that whole thing. I’m happy to see you; relieved.” He took a sip of his tea, and maybe a bit of your heart with it. You were an explosion of feeling when it comes to him, you always have been. “That sweater looks good on you, you can keep it if you want. You know that’s my fave one.” And, yeah, you knew.

The tension on you was no longer intense, comforting you to let out the breath you were holding. “It’s good to hear that,” Your genuine smile managed to say many things, you wished Damiano had noticed you earlier on other occasions. “Do you remember that one time, when we were younger, that you were a bit crazy about a girl; Alice was his name.” You stopped; in need of air - nervous - and watched Dami's attentive face. “She was the first person to whom you dedicated a song, you played it to her at school break. The cutest thing I had ever seen. I think it was there that I realized, a little jealous—“

“Y/N,” his voice had been almost inaudible, causing no effect. Had he really tried?

“How in love I was with you.”

His face was paler than usual, he was paralyzed; speechless. You had never seen Damiano like this, the men was always all over the place in a sweet talkative mess.

It took a few minutes for you to be able to read his expressions and realize how fucked up you were. The dose of happiness in your blood had been able to manipulate you to believe in what you most wanted to happen.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” your blood had gone up to your ears, all you could pay attention to was the pressure in your head. How had you thought that after one specific night he would suddenly decide that he was in love with you? After all of this time that you were just a good friend for him? “I’m truly sorry but I’m don’t—“

“Feel the same way?” You finished. He nodded, apprehensively. You have never felt so stupid. It was a mixture of shame, fear and insecurity. You were unable to look directly at him, you knew that there was no change in following a friendship after what you just said, much less after the night before. You had never been so screwed.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing, I shouldn’t have said a thing.” You whispered, realizing that the lump in your throat had turned into tears that you didn't even know were running down your face.

“Come here,” he opened his arms, walking towards your emotionless frame. You allowed yourself to melt in his grip.

Your tears fell freely; you could even try to hold it back but there was no strength left for you to think about it. Your crying was silent, as was the kitchen room. Your head was full of questions and cursing at yourself. Suddenly you wished Damiano had yelled at you, asked you to get out of there or said he wouldn't never speak to you again. It seemed easier to deal with it in this alternative way than to have him comforting you for loving him. “Shh, it’ll alright. I could never be mad at you.”

He talked about your friendship, but you knew that nothing would end up well. Maybe for him. But for you? It’d not be that easy. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have known better, you were so loving with me last night that I thought— Fuck, we slept together. Which I know isn’t your fault because I don’t even remember who—“

“Stop, Y/N. Look at me,” He was being careful. You were making a person like Damiano calculate his words, that made you feel like pure shit. You stopped talking, looking at him was still difficult. He understood that you wouldn’t be doing so. “That’s fine. I don’t feel bad about you liking me in that way, you’re wonderful. I don't regret anything, last night was great, but I just... don't feel the same. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I can't even imagine how hard it’s being for you right now.” His words sounded sweet and sincere. He had tears in his eyes as well. His ability to be so empathetic to everyone was something you loved the most about him. He was probably killing himself on the inside for breaking you.

You nodded, leaning on the counter. You wanted to ask him if he remembered that he was your first kiss at the age of seven or all the times he sent you vinyl records with some message - that he had written himself - inside the cover. How did he not feel the same, shouldn't you be everything he wanted?

“Dami?” You sighed. Your eyes were red, your face probably swollen. You then looked straight at him; that surprisingly wasn’t much better than you. “Have you ever looked at me and seen me in another way? Something more than just your best friend?”

He didn’t say a thing, just look at you standing there. You get it.

“I think I should go,” You broke the silence that had been formed. You thought about taking his sweater off, but since you weren't wearing anything underneath, you thought it was better not; you’d have to go to his room to change, and then pick up your things only to delay your leaving.

“I can drive you home,” he said in a hush, looking for his car keys.

“It’s okay, a walk will be fine.”

“It’s fucking freezing outside, I can't let you walk over there like that.”

You ignored what he said, walking around the house to the front exit. He tried to grab your arm just for you to step back.

“I know you're just trying to help, but I need to be alone right now, without you near me.” You tried to say it in the most normal way possible, you didn't want to be mean, you only wanted to be fair to yourself.

“Sure.” It was the last thing you heard him say before you left, feeling the cold wind on your body. You didn't know if he had entered his house again or if he was watching you hug yourself as walking slowly to somewhere. You wouldn't dare to look back.

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

“C’mon girl, get up here,” Upon hearing the husky, strong voice, you were relieved.

Victoria wasn’t wearing her usual jewelry and looked like she had just been woken up by force. You weren’t as close to her as you were with the other boys, however, you had never been so happy to see her.

You got in her car. “Thank you,”

“God, you look terrible. You’re fine?” You looked at your reflection in the rearview mirror and well, fine was definitely something you didn't look like.

“Dami asked you to come and get me?” Your throat was scratching, it was difficult to speak.

“Yeah,” she looked at you quickly, but due to your discomfort she backed off. More tears would come. “He didn't say why though, he just said he needed someone to come to you before you froze to death.” She said it in a way that made you laugh, even with your eyes filled with tears. “Did the two of you have a disagreement? You don't have to answer me if you don't want to.”

“Something similar.” You said shakily; due to your crying and chilly. Inside the car was heated, but your body was so cold that it didn't seem to be enough. You tried to snuggle in the passenger seat, letting your head rest against the window like in a sad film. Maybe that’d help.

“Here,” she handed you a coat, without hesitation you took it. “I brought it to you in case you needed it.”

You nodded slowly. “Thank you, Victoria,”

“You can call me Vic, just like everyone else,” she laughed.

You gave her a half smile. “Okay then, thank you very much, Vic,”

The rest of the day would be crying while you curled up in your bed, you’d let yourself feel at your worst; promising that you would try and change that the next day.

———----------------------------------------------

You expected the first few days to be the hardest, but it seemed to get worse with each passing day. Damiano had tried to call you a few times and in all of them you responded dryly, using short words, pretending it’d be okay. You truly tried, but you needed time to process what happened. You told him that, and then time he gave you.

After completing a month of the incident, you noticed how 'dependent' you had become on him. He was always around since you were kids, any problem you had you would look for him to talk to, now you felt like you had nothing. Your friends were friends of his, too, more of his friends than yours. You missed having Thomas failing on teaching you how to play guitar on your couch and besides you thought about calling him - just to distract yourself - you remembered that he was more a friend of Damiano than yours. It’d be weird. None of them contacted you at that time, not even Thomas. You couldn't figure it out if Dami had told them what happened and they decided to give you space or if they just didn't care about you when you wasn’t around Damiano.

Basically, where Dami was you would be and vice versa. It had always been like that.

When you saw that just time wasn’t solving anything, you programmed yourself to live in a way that you were busy all the time. Your routine became work, home and most of the time taking the work to be done also in your home. You didn't feel energized to make new friends, and going out on dates could help momentarily but it wouldn't be fair to go out with someone in the ‘mood’ you were in; then these ideas were soon discarded. Sleeping was impossible, you spent hours rolling over in bed; both for the flashbacks that plagued your mind, but also for the fact that you missed him. The nights were worse when you visit your mother or when she called and said, "Dami never came to see me again." or something like. “Are you still talking to each other? We don't let someone like Damiano leave our lives.”

Deep down, you knew there was no way you could be in love with him forever and that no matter how much it hurt at that moment it would pass. You started to repeat it to yourself as much as you could, so when the boys got in touch with you again you didn't hesitate to answer. Nothing bad would happen, you just need to pretend to be fine. The first to send you a message was Thomas, with simple questions, he acted like nothing had happened, you liked it. Even though it was obvious that Thomas, as one of his boys, would know this in more detail than you did (which was a lie, but at least he knew how Damiano was feeling about it, which you wouldn't know). He updated you about Dami, who was great as always, and you said you were doing well when he asked. You answering him made Ethan talk to you too, although they were all polite and delicate, they seemed more to be sorry than to miss you. Pity wasn’t something you were expecting.

After five months, you still felt like crap. You had tried to stop counting the days that had passed since you last saw Damiano, but it was almost impossible. You could still remember that night vividly, but you were still trying your best to move on; leave it behind. Mysteriously, you wanted to see him, see how he was doing and find out if he had anything else to say but you were afraid to see him, go back to your place as his best friend just to realize that your feelings for him had not abated at all.

“...I haven't seen you in a while. I wonder if you're alright,” you heard when answering your phone. Your head hurt, your eyes stung. You had slept on spreadsheets that you brought home from your work.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Shit,” she murmured.

You looked at the phone screen. “Sorry Vic, I just woke up I'm still trying to copy.” You laughed to calm her down.

“I thought I didn't have my number,” her voice became softer, as if she was relieved that you had saved it. “I didn't want to wake you up, I'm sorry about that. I just wanted to know how you‘re doing, since I used to see you almost every day, y’know?”

You thought about saying that you saved her number the day Dami called to pick him up at a bar since his phone battery was dead and he was in no condition to drive, but Victoria clearly knew that. “Is Dami with you?”

“No,” her tone matched yours; Dami had told her, now she was being careful with her words. “I saved your number the day Dami needed to call you, in case I needed to call you again.”

“That’s alright, thanks for checking on me then.”

“But he would love to talk to you. He always asks the boys about you or comments on you so that someone can bring you up to the convo. He seems a bit lost when you not ‘round to be honest.”

Somehow hearing that made you happy. Still, the image of discomfort whenever you thought of talking to him scared you. The phone line was filled with silence, until Victoria's husky voice filled the line.

“Anyway, I didn't call you to talk about Damiano. We finally finished the album and decided to have a small celebration at my house,” you giggle at the formality. “We thought you should go, since you were present in more than half of the process. I‘d like you to come. We’d all like you to come.”

———

Your heart accelerated with each step you took as you entered Victoria's house. The rooms had a glow of being calm and the music that was playing helped to make the place cozy. The instrumental of the band reminded you of Fleetwood Mac, and for the little that you knew Vic you would say that the type of sound reminded you of her.

Her house wasn’t crowded, there were only a few people around; some you’ve seen before, some you haven’t. You thundered your fingers over some vinyl that were arranged in a corner, pretending to read them. You were looking for familiar faces, honestly even for Damiano, but for some unknown reason you didn't want to make that obvious. Your eyes captured Thomas talking to some girls, and soon you felt relieved to be dressed according to the occasion; or at least according to the girls who were close to Thomas. It didn't take long until he noticed you standing there, you waved and he came to you. He looked surprised, still he didn't wait for you to say anything else, just wrapped you in his arms so tight you had to ask him to let go in between muffled laughter.

“Vic working miracles! Come, I'll take you to the others.” He said in his cute form, holding your hand as guiding you through the house. “So, how's our best girl?”

Your lips parted in a smile. “I’m alright, pretty much the same to be honest,” there was no time for him to ask another question because you soon spotted Ethan and Victoria with their beers in hands. They seemed to be shocked to see you as well; and it was starting to irritate you for reasons you couldn't explain. Thomas put you behind him, hiding you from the two of them as if they hadn't seen you already. He was being such a sweetheart that he had even managed to soften the anxious butterflies in your stomach; but not enough to keep your mind free of worries and Damiano David. Thomas made a funny noise with his hands as Ethan ignored his attempt to be amusing, pulling you into a hug. Who would have thought you would have missed them so much.

“How long without seeing you, I force you not to do that again. Without you we are just another disorganized mess.” You laughed at his nonsense. Your smile was sincere, like it hadn't been for months, still you were forcing yourself a bit more to appear to be actually 'fine'. You’d like to know if they noticed, even though you were appreciating that they didn’t.

“No worries, I‘m not planning on leaving you guys alone.”

Ethan and Thomas started to discuss about something, Ethan was already under the effect of alcohol, and from time to time they asked for your opinion on how Victoria had been strangely quiet. Atypical of her, but she didn't seem to be out of place or uncomfortable, just quiet.

“Did a cat eat the tongue of my newest attractive friend?”

“Not this time,” she showed you her tongue, and then smirked. Her eyes shone in differently way under your gaze and her make up was making her look more mature. “Are you feelin’ good? Thank you for coming.” Victoria was happy to see you, you could feel that. She might be curious, but pity wasn’t something possible to see in her; different from the other boys. “You must be tired of hearing that question, I'm sorry. It‘ll no longer be asked.”

Her voice was soft, comfortable to hear. “I appreciate that. I really have heard a lot of that, but despite everything, I feel good ‘bout bein’ here.”

“I feel even happier that you came then,” she put her hand gently on your waist. The other two didn't even remember you and Vic were there. “Let's get you something to drink, we bought that red drink Damiano always says you love.”

“No way, it’s bishop cocktail?” You looked at her, a big grin on your face, even though you remembered that this was the drink you were drinking when the universe decided it would be a good idea for you and Dami to have a one-night stand. Just a lovely reminder. “Have you mixed everything up? like the rum with the red wine? or with red drink you just want to say you bought wine?” You asked, ignoring your internal conflicts. Everything would be fine, you ket repeating to yourself.

“In fact, I remember once hearing you comment you didn't mind it being mixed up in a random bottle.”

She pulled a glass bottle out of a bucket full of ice and you couldn't believe she remembered that; given that you could count on your fingers the times that you had actually spoken to her. You didn’t avoid each other, just didn’t have much of the opportunities.

“Oh my god, that’s so fuckin’ lovely.” You whispered. She was quick to pick up a glass and hand it to you, filling it with the so well remembered liquid. You took a sip, and the taste - or alcohol - made your butterflies calmer. “Thanks for that, tastes like heaven.” She took a glass for herself, by her expression she thought it was a waste of rum. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.”

“If you think so, who am I to deny.”

“Don’t be a bummer,” you bumped your shoulder with hers, eliciting a cute sound from her that made you laugh as well.

You wish that sensation had lasted longer, even so when a random girl approached you to ask something, you felt heavy; like a sign. Her hair was golden in perfect waves and her face was angelic in an almost divine way. You might have been overreacting, but she was the type to catch all the attention to herself.

“You’re Y/N, right? I was startin’ to think that I’d never get to know you.” She hugged you tight and you wondered if she really didn't know you. When she released you, you felt your heart breaking right there in front of her. She was wearing Dami's sweater; the same one from that night, the same one that you wore. You wanted to be wrong, but you’d know that sweater from a distance even after years. “He talks so much about you. Can you believe we never met?” She asked, alternating her gaze between you and Victoria. She had been silent, you had forgotten that she was still there. Your head was miles away in thoughts, making you dizzy.

“Hi, Bella,” Victoria said. You remembered that name. Damiano talked about her on a few occasions, anyways he didn't seem to be in love - or you just didn’t want to see that. Maybe you haven’t been able to read him due to your stupid passion. “How’s everything?”

She started talking to Victoria and you couldn't concentrate on listening; all the alcohol in the world would not ease what you were feeling. How long have they been together? What was so special about her that Damiano gives her his favorite sweater? Were they together when you slept together? How did she end up with the same sweater you slept in that day?

She held the cup that was in your hands and handed it to Victoria. “Are you okay, hon’? You look a lil’ unwell. Do you want me to get you some water?”

“No need, I’m alright,” she patted your arm, and then checked your temperature. She was being nice, yet you couldn't pretend to be interested in being there anymore.

Thankfully, Victoria put an arm around your shoulders, asking if you want to join her to have a smoke. “It’ll be good, fresh air will do good to you.”

You agreed. Bella was worried and you felt bad about having to run away from her. She looked like an incredible person, sure Damiano was lucky to have her, that was just too much for you.

“Do this, you will feel better. We can talk later and so you can tell me everything about you and Dami, I’d love to hear you, since you’ve known each other for so long.” You looked for some irony in her voice, but you didn't found it. She was interested in you; after all, you were her boyfriend's best friend. It made sense.

Victoria guided you to the balcony, or at least halfway to it. Midway, someone stopped to talk to her, she tried to dismiss the person, however, as it was a thing related to the album, she would have no way out. “Victoria, it’s fine, I need some time alone.” You whispered to her, patting on her arm. She looked at you reluctantly, but understand. There wouldn't be much she could do for you.

Entering the balcony you felt an absurd urge to cry, your eyes itched and your legs were trembling. Was being in love meant to hurt this much, or was it just a game of chance?

You tried to take a deep breath, ease your heartbeats, telling yourself it was okay. You just needed to calm down. You leaned your body against the wall and watched the place. The plants near the fence - which you didn't know how Victoria had time to take care of them - the streets, and then the sky. Starry and moist, made for good memories that wouldn't come to you. When you felt ready enough to go out and face the party again, you ran into the one you were trying to avoid, Dami. Minutes ago you were anxious with the possibility to see him to know how he was, now you just wanted to run away and wipe these last months out of your mind.

“Y/N,” his body collided with yours while his arms wrapped around you, it was supposed to be a good thing, that you‘d feel safe as the same way you used to feel, except that was uncomfortable now. You couldn't even respond to his hug, for a second you thought you would escape without having to see him. He noticed and gave you space. “I swore that you wouldn't come. My god, it's so good to see you.” He ran his hands through his hair and you remained paralyzed in front of him.

You tried to focus on your breathing so that your voice came out without too many complications. “Yeah... It's good to see you, you look great.” It didn't work, your voice was shaky making your lie sound even worse. He looks great, you didn't lie, he seemed even happier and well rested. You wondered if it was because the album was ready or because now he had Bella.

You forced a smile, but unlike the others, Damiano knew you were acting. He didn’t judge or question, his face became tense, apprehensive. He knew that nothing was right.

“I thought about callin’ you more, goin’ to see you or something. The boys convinced me that it‘d be better not, that it could be even hard for you. I wonder if I shouldn't have done something different to help you because I know I fucked up too.” His hands were undecided between running through his hair and staying inside his pockets. He was nervous, at the same relieved to have spoken to you.

“It wasn't your fault, I’d never blame you for that,” you sighed, smiling slightly. It felt terrible to make him feel that way about it, but there wasn't much you could do. “I'm glad you gave me space when I asked, it's still hard to see you or think about talkin’ to you. It is as if everything that is tormenting me comes all at once.” It was good to say that to him. He nodded and you looked at each other for a while. It wasn't as uncomfortable as you thought it would be.

He was a few feet away from you while you were admiring the night, with your back against the wall. You wanted to leave, maybe go cry in your bed until you fell asleep, still you wanted things to work out with Dami, you wanted that tension and fear of seeing him to get out of your head. Despite that, if it was necessary to suffer in that process, it would not be worth it.

“She’s amazing,” it hurt to say that, but it was the truth. “Bella’s amazing, lucky girl.” You smiled sadly. Saying her name and seeing Dami smiling at that made you thank God for not seeing the two of them together, hugging or kissing. He‘d probably put his hand on her waist while she was talking to one of his friends or giving lightly kisses to her temple, just because he felt like it. Damiano was the cute type, you've seen it before.

“She is, an amazing person. She was all happy to have spoken to you. I told her all about our teenage years and how you always supported the band,” He had told her about you, would he have told her about you being in love with him? You thought to ask, soon giving up. It’d be shameful if so. “If I knew you would be here I’d not have come with her.” It made you think that he had told her.

“What would you do? Would you hide me from her for the rest of your life?” You sighed. it was supposed to sound like a joke, regrettably your voice sounded too cruel for that.

“It’s not like that,” he mumbled. “I was just tryin’ to think of you and—“

“I think I need to go Dami, it’s being too much. I’m sorry.” You needed to get out of there, you couldn't stop the tears anymore and you knew it was a bad idea to talk about her with him.

You took a few steps back just for Damiano to grab at your arm, without putting strength, just like a few months ago, to stop you in front of him. You turned your face away from looking at his eyes, feeling as the tears run down your cheek. You'd never be able to face him, this situation was only proving that to you even more.

“Please, Y/N. Just tell me what I need to do. I will do anything for you to talk to me again. I need you, you know that. The past few weeks have been a mess without you around. Even little my mom misses you. I’d do anything to have you back like before.” He was about to cry, his eyes shone with tears and it was painful to watch. He could do anything for you to stay; except what would make you stay. Unfortunately, it didn't depend only on his good will.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this,” you said in a lack of air, signaling the space around you with your finger. “But this, this is too much. It kills me to have to be close to you or to be close to things or people that remind me of you, seeing someone else with you doesn't help at all. I still think about the fact that we slept together... I can’t just forget it ‘cause it meant so much to me and to you, to you? it was nothing.” You were out of breath, you just wanted to cry in peace, put everything out until there was nothing left.

He released his hands of you, his face red and damp. It wasn't going to be easy for either of you. Time wouldn't matter; it wouldn’t change a thing because whenever you looked at him you’d wonder about how things could have been like if he had chosen you.

He whispered one more time that he was sorry, then let you go. He could have stopped you, but it's not like he knew what to do anymore.

He watched as you walk out without even looking back.

——-

You went through the party walking fast, avoiding acquaintances and questions about why you were like that. Your body was heavy as well as your conscience. Outside the house the street was empty, the streetlights illuminated the sidewalk and along with the silence of the street you felt invited to sit there. You brought your knees close to your body, trying to breathe calmly. Pulling the air in, and then releasing it in a normal way. Your heart was beating so fast that your whole body was agitated. You tried to stay still. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling a little dizzy when you saw someone walk out the front door of the house. You dropped your knees, trying to look decent, but gave up as soon as the person came closer to you and you saw that it was Victoria. She sat next to you, pulling you into a hug. You were happy that she went to you.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, hugging her waist and hiding your face in the fabric of her shirt.

“Stop saying that you’re fine when you’re far from being fine, I won’t judge you sweetheart,” she comforted you, giving you a extra squeezing. You were far from being alright, but it helped, having someone there helped.

She placed her chin on top of your head, soothing you until your crying softened. She rubbed your back and whispered that it’d be okay.

“Did Damiano send you here?”

“No, darlin’. He said that you had talked, and then you had to leave, he didn't look well, I thought you wouldn't be either.”

“And then you decided to look out for me?” You laughed, still tucked in her warm arms.

“Yep, sounds like you need me, don’t you think?” She laughed too, causing the vibration of her chest next to yours make you feel taken in.

“Why’s love so painful?”

Victoria didn't answer, she was thoughtful for a few minutes, and then she stood up, holding out her hand for you.

“What?”

“I won’t be taking no as an answer, you’ll get in the car with me and we will do something, anything, drink milk shakes, fill up our bellies with pizza ‘til we can't take it anymore, or even rob a bank.” She held you by the waist, lifting you up for her. “Please,”

You didn't see why not to accept. There was nothing worse that could get even worse at the moment, maybe going somewhere would do you good. “Even rob a bank?” She nodded, pointing to where her car was.

A smile spreading across her lovely face as you realized you’d go anywhere she wanted with her. “Yes, even robbing a bank.”

#damiano david #damiano david x reader #måneskin #victoria de angelis #victoria de angelis x reader #damiano david fanfiction #damiano imagine #damiano angst #maneskin #fanfic #fiction #imagines #maneskin x reader #writing

701 notes · View notes