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futureplayboibunnie · 6 months

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Heartless Pt. 3

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’hara x fem!reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

are we…lowkey…getting somewhere?

The flight wasn't as grueling as you thought it would've been, it was an eight-hour nonstop flight and you were lucky you went at night. You stared blankly out of the window, blinking at the stars. You didn't even realize that you were drifting away softly, your lashes fluttered and drooped and then everything went black, the soft hum of the jet reverberating in your ears as you slipped to sleep, sleeping for a dreamless night with your head in the literal clouds.

Miguel was quite literally nocturnal. He could never sleep at night, even if he wanted to and even if he tried. He pulled out his laptop and started working, going over some cooked-up books that his crooked accountant had given him. Maybe he was paranoid by triple-checking everything, he had gone through your background check multiple times and it still didn't feel enough, he still didn't feel like it was accurate to the character you were playing for him. Like a facade. Miguel was absorbed in his work, he didn't realize a few hours passed already. He still wasn't tired, and he wanted to avoid sleeping deeply for as long as he could- he couldn't be in a position where his bad dreams could get at him again. He frowned at the startling thought and downed the last of his Merlot. Your soft breathing made him break away for a moment, his head shifted to look at you and you were sound asleep. Your head rested to the side of you away from him and your hair was covering your face. Miguel hesitantly reached his hand to stroke away the strands that were blocking out your features, maybe he just wanted to check if you weren't awake, or maybe he just wanted to gawk at you without the consequence of your smart mouth or belittling stare- either way, he couldn't stop his fingers from brushing the hair away from your face. You breathed deeply and mumbled something incoherent that Miguel couldn't comprehend, Miguel felt you shift in your seat. He immediately retracted his hand, brows knitting together as he studied what you looked like in your natural form, when you weren't pretending to be someone else.

Again. He thought you looked nice. Miguel grunted softly at his ceaseless gaping, he was being ridiculous, staring at an attractive woman as if he'd never seen one before. He won't succumb to something as juvenile as this, his pressures lie elsewhere and he won't let his confusion around you cloud his thoughts to things that matter more. If he was being completely honest with himself, he needed some sort of vacation- he had grown tired of being on edge back home, looking over his shoulder, making sure to preserve what was his. How was he supposed to become more powerful and spread his influence if he was still looking after what he already had? It was startling for him to be in control of so many things at once, but as always, he pushed it down. There were still a few hours before you landed and Miguel didn't want to be engrossed by work anymore, he wasn't paying attention to it. He decided to pull out a book he still hadn't finished reading, he hadn't had time to indulge in such normal trivial things as reading. There were moments when you stirred and twisted in your sleep, surely you weren't comfortable in heels and a tight little dress but Miguel didn't want to meddle with you further. He's done more than enough.

“Hey.“

A soft gentle voice made your eyes scrunch.

“Hey, wake up. We're here.” The voice urged again.

Your lashes fluttered when you finally realized that it was Miguel. And that it was also Miguel who was had his hand on your face. You jolted awake, Miguel was next to you but it felt like he was so far away, you didn't realize how little it took for him to extend an arm and brush his fingers against you. The moonlight beamed through the pane, your groggy vision turning into a beautiful portrait of Miguel, illuminating every single feature of him, his brown hair turning honey as the Italian moon hit him perfectly. You shook your head and raised yourself on your seat, still not understanding how you could fall asleep in something so heinously uncomfortable, and even then you still resumed being graceful as always, you wouldn't let that appearance shatter, especially in front of Miguel. His presence itself didnt bother you but what went on in his head did.

Speaking of, Miguel's mind was whirring away but it drew to a blank

There was one thing he wanted to say though; 'Is this what we're doing? Just not talking to each other?’ Well. He preferred that to that polite small talk, you both kept on upholding, the thought made his skin crawl.

The drive to the complex was silent as per usual, but this time it was Miguel who was driving and you were in the front seat. His cars were expensive, his Audi RS Q8 wasn't an exception, it was a sinful amplification of the word money. You settled into the passenger seat, trying not to inspect every single inch of his car like a lost tourist, awing at the model but you contained it, your face expresser something akin to that of being unimpressed and uninterested, when in fact you were the complete opposite. The fact that you had to act this way just to not give Miguel the satisfaction wasn't difficult but inconvenient. You wanted to be yourself, but you didn't want to seem weak in front of him, you won't let that happen. Ever.

You breathed out, your fingers smoothing against the seatbelt, reminding you of the way he so easily trapped you in the plane, that hand keeping you in place. You couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched you like that, well, anyone who even touched you at all in the last few months. Your eyes couldn't help but glance over at him, sneaky eyes trailing over him, almost thickening the distance and tension between you- he was right here, but a million miles away. Miguel's hand slid over the wheel seamlessly, but you noticed his knuckles turning white as he gripped onto it. His jaw ticked as he let out a short frustrated breath, his gaze nothing more than penetrating as he glared at the window, completely unamused- his autopilot mood.

If only he wasn't blinded by rage and other primitive and frankly boring emotions- it was so predictable that it didn't phase you. You pursed your lips and stared outside the window, pensive and aloof as the night clouded your peripheral. the bleak darkness you were gazing at, seemed to reflect Miguel's mood more than anything and you didn't know how to confront this deep tension between you that was certainly getting thicker and thicker. Then your mouth ran before you could check it.

"You'll break it.”You said flatly, brimming with confidence by the way you squared your shoulders, surprised by your own voice thrumming out of your throat.

Miguel's head shifted to regard you. Oh wow, the church mouse finally roars. The fact that you're saying something at all, let alone something in a knowing tone made him halt in his tracks. You seemed so sure of yourself like you knew exactly what he could do. Like you had any idea who he was. Aw, honey. You didn't know anything. You needed to stop pretending like you did

"Hm?” Miguel mumbled impatiently, waiting for you to elaborate on your not-so-graceful statement.

“Don't grip so hard on the wheel. You'll break it.” You replied as if you were bored out of your mind, Miguel despised it entirely. His eyes turned into mere slits when they found his knuckles turning a pale white against the wheel, his veins turning thunderous and borderline pulsating with resigned anger he was used to but now since you pointed it out, he was becoming more aware of his actions than he was happy with. Miguel mostly kept to himself, but primitive emotions such as anger or frustration, creeped out of him slowly and etched at his features like a lingering poison.

"Hm. I see the only time you open your mouth is to critique me.” He replied with a soft snarl.

“I'm not criticizing you. I just don't want this ludicrously expensive car to break under your thumb.”

“I can afford another 10 of these.” Miguel's words ran off his tongue so smoothly you realized the point he was proving: he was extremely wealthy, he didn't need to care about things. It's something that you shouldn't forget. Miguel doesn't conserve material things, why should he? You shouldn't expect him to want to take care of his possessions, though you didn't realize how careless he actually was with it. you wouldn't have guessed a man as arrogant and careful as him within his work and his business to be so callous with his money, but then again- the money spent on a new car is a mere droplet within a river of riches. It left a bitter taste in your mouth. You shot him a glare and that's when he muttered flatly, “Don't ever question that again, we clear?”

"Hm. And also, I have a brain and a mouth. When I don't want to talk I won't talk, I don't need to fill the silence with empty words, if I want to talk or call you out on something I will. Just because I don't entertain petty or better yet polite conversation doesn't mean I'm a wallflower or taker of shit, we clear?”

Miguel's face was set in an uncrackable scowl, his jaw ticked as you talked to him in such a patronizing way, it may have been deserved or it may have been a clear indication of your intentions- but either way, he didn't like the way you were talking.

“Careful.”

“We may be married but I will not answer to yo-“

He cut you off sternly with his hand reaching out and gripping your cheeks to close your mouth, it was a warning, the way he stared at you proved that, his hand proved harsher. “I said careful.” You let out a frustrated breath, struggling with your hands on his to pry his iron-like fingers off of your cheeks and chin. Miguel felt you struggle in your seat, hissing and thrashing but he remained unaffected, so completely normal about it all as he kept driving. He released his grip on you and you breathed out deeply, flashing him a look of surprise and hatred. He had a tendency to make people this way and he revelled in it. “Smart mouth...All bark, no bite….it can only get you so far. Remember that the next time you wanna try and lay into me Cariño.”

You remained embittered with Miguel when you got to the beachside apartment complex, you slammed the car door shut harshly, seemingly acting like him for not caring for his little playthings. If he didn’t care, why should you? He could tell by that look on your face you wouldn't be all polite and graceful after what he did. You didn't help him with the bags, you didn't care. The doorman let you in, informing you that the complex would be all yours for the week as he gave you the key. Miguel trudged behind you, carrying the bags up the stairs like they were feathers. You slammed the door in his face but he knee stopped it from closing fully, he knew that you were trying to prove a point and it was dancing on his nerves.

“I’m taking a shower and going to bed. Don’t even think about interrupting me for anything.” You spat out lowly, irritation causing your brows to knit together slightly. Miguel just grunted in response, dropping the bags on the floor gracelessly.

He hadn’t been to this beach house in a while, although it was thoroughly cleaned, it still felt lived in from when he was a kid living here with his family. Miguel didn’t know how to feel about the fond and somewhat nostalgic thought. Then his eyes flicked to the glass cabinet in the corner of the living room. He stepped closer and found the thoroughly familiar photos of him and Gabriel, playing. Careless as ever. He scoffed slightly with a little smile touching at his lips. It was a lot easier back then.

Now he has to deal with a pissed off wife, with a pretty mouth.

You explored the hallway first, walking down and vaguely peeping into every room, but you reached the master bedroom by the end of the hallway. You opened the door and found a beautiful room with a marble layout and wooden details, the balcony you stepped into was slightly protruding, looking out into the grassy planes, sandy beaches and palm trees. Something out of novel. The iron bars were covered in ivy and vines, shrubs and bushes of plenty alonside even more greenery. The moon shone onto the waves hauntingly, creating a halo onto the Earth.

It really was beautiful.

You shifted your head, raising an eyebrow at how big the white bed was, but you didn’t read into it. It’ll be just like it was at home- you and Miguel in seperate rooms, like always. Your heels clicked to the en suite and Jesus Christ, it was huge. Your eyes gleamed from corner to corner of the room, and then you reached the sink and immediately rolled your eyes.

Of course the best room in the building had to be Miguel’s.

There was a tiny frame sitting at the corner of his sink. It was of him holding Gabriel as a newborn, your vision turned sharp as you inspected the photo. Well. Miguel definitely had his boyish charm back then, a shame he doesn’t have it now. His smile would always remain a mystery to you. You settled the frame down and instead you eyed the copous bottles of cologne he had. Each more expensive than the last, as always.

Instead of just gawking around like a fool, you turned the shower on and immediately started stripping of this dress and heels you’ve been subjected too, you grabbed a fresh white towel and threw it to hand over the glass sliding door. You slipped in the shower, letting the warm water travel down every aching sore muscles, you hadn’t been this relieved in a long time.

Miguel, on the other hand, poured himself another incredibly strong scotch, he really needed to absolve himself of…something. He raked an exhausted hand over his face, he grabbed the whole bottle alongside the glass and trudged to his room begrudgingly, hoping to be rid of this night.

You wanted to keep the shower as brief as possible just so you could slip into bed sooner. Fuck. You didn’t bring your bag in here with you. Your shampoo was in it. Shit. You had to make do with what was around you, well, lucky for you, you only had Miguel’s shampoo around. With a defeated sigh, you had to go for it. As if this could get any worse.

You opened up the bottle and raised it to your nose, it smelled…dark? Cederwood. Coffee? Maybe a little bit of vanilla. That was just picking it apart, as a whole it the scent of it was just so… Miguel. Extra thickening? Interesting. Without caring, you squirted some into your palm and lathered it together with your hands, quickly soaking your hair and rubbing it softly into your scalp.

The bubbles surrounding you made the aroma that much more…intense.

Miguel heard the sound of the shower coming from his room, he wanted to grit his teeth until they shattered and fell into his hands. A frission of irritation thrummed at his temple. He swung open his bedroom door hurriedly with the might of one hand and exclaimed, “I swear to God if you’re in here I’m gonna-“

His feet stopped in their tracks. His mind went blank at what he was seeing. He was surprised he didn’t drop his damn scotch.

You going through his wardrobe in a tiny towel, legs dripping and glowing, hair wet and messy, glaring at him with a certain blank apprehension. Almost like a deer in headlights, but what could Miguel say? He was looking at you the exact same way.

taglist (giggles) : @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann @idolautism @residentialcryptid @bunnyrose01 @hqllcheers @minalovesyoubabes @amelialysm @moonvoidpng @ahano @hanberkkk @lavenderslemonade @mynameiswilliamblake @gejo333 @leahnicole1219 @iite-cool @zaunsin @kkchgee @yujyujj @hazelnutbitch @hiraya1802 @leo-lvr @sh4nn @watyousayin @siidmm @ciwywt-com @death-moth-art @ihateuguys @enmuhusben (sometimes i hate this fkn app it literally doensn’t let me tag other ppl why)

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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jamespotterismydaddy · 6 months

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Attention Seeker

Stepdad!daemon x reader

A/N: this can be read as a oneshot or as part of the daddys girl series. This was also slightly based off of a request here. Also I’m very proud of this so appreciate it🙏😭

TW: SMUT SMUT SMUT, somnophilia (in a way), innocence kink, stepcest, angst to fluff, body worship, daddy kink, light bondage

word count: 2,247 (this is the longest thing I’ve ever written which in slightly embarrassing)

HANDS (I’m going crazy)

You and Daemon are in a strange routine for a stepdaughter and stepfather, you piss him off, he fucks you, rinse and repeat. You don’t mind the routine, it’s almost the only way you can get his attention, but you take it a step further this time.

You don’t know if it’s cheating, per se, when you bring home a boy from school. Jake always seemed to have a thing for you and teenage boys are horny. You aren’t even sure if you care about the whole cheating thing (if that’s what it is). When you get into Daemon’s mansion, you take Jake by the hand and lead him to the kitchen. Daemon is sitting there when you arrive, a glass of crimson red wine in his hand. He eyes Jake emotionlessly, clearly curious about who he is but not curious enough to give you the satisfaction of asking.

“This is Jake.” You say anyhow as you grab a bag of chips from the pantry.

“A friend?” Your stepfather asks, not looking concerned in the slightest.

“Something like that.” You say with just enough suggestion in your voice. You want to make his skin crawl. Even if he’d never show it.

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Jake says playfully. The ‘sir’ clearly isn’t said with the utmost respect. Daemon doesn’t even give him a glance in response.

You roll your pretty, sweet eyes and pull Jake up the stairs to your bedroom. You make it so that Daemon can hear just what the two of you are getting up to. You want him to know you can get pleasure elsewhere. You want him to be livid. You want him to explode. When you walk Jake out and press a kiss to his cheek, it’s exactly what you expect, anger. But it’s not what you’re given.

“Have a busy night, little girl?” He asks, eying your messy hair. It doesn’t feel like he’s flirting though. It feels like he just sees you as a dumb child. You keep silent and when you can’t come up with a response, he speaks again. “Go to bed then. You look… tired.” You almost think he’s judging you; you know he’s judging you. Feeling frustrated, you go up to your room again just like he suggests.

You act up a numerous amount of times over the next week, trying desperately to get him to see you, acknowledge what you need from him. He never gives in or punishes you in any way. You feel desperate at this point. So, you try to work your way into tempting him once again.

You fill up the massive clawfoot tub in his bathroom with hot water and bubbles. You then tie your hair up loosely in a bun before stripping down and stepping in. The water calms you and the fact that you’re doing this in Daemon’s bathroom excites you.

It isn’t more than 10 minutes before he returns home. He doesn’t call out for you, just makes his way upstairs and into his bathroom. Your stepfather doesn’t notice you right away but as he is loosening his tie, he catches your gaze in the mirror. If he is surprised, he doesn’t show it.

“Having a nice soak, little one?” He asks and you’re just happy that he’s decided to speak to you.

“It would be better if you joined me, Daemon.” You say as sensually as you can manage.

“I’m alright.” He says and walks out.

You’re upset by the rejection and you get out of the bath, wrapping a towel around you so you can follow him. He begins to undress in his walk-in closet.

“Perhaps I can help you relax.” You say softly and drop to your knees in front of him.

Your towel falls in a heap around your hips as you use your hands to unbuckle his belt. He looks disinterested as you take his cock out from his trousers and he doesn’t even say a word as you take him in your mouth. You feel feverish as you suck him off, trying to pull a reaction out of him. He stays looking bored as you work his cock vigorously. When he grabs you by the back of your hair, you feel hopeful, thinking he is going to take control but he doesn’t. He yanks your head off him so roughly that you fall to your bum.

“Gods, it’s like you’re trying to suck the skin off my cock.” He rolls his eyes and zips his pants back up, deciding to just keep his work trousers on. He leaves you in the closet and walks downstairs. You follow him like a hopeless little puppy.

“Why don’t you want me anymore?” You ask angrily as he sits in his armchair with his book, his reading glasses just put on. He sighs.

“If you would like a quick fuck, baby, then go ask Jake.”

So he is upset about that. You think to yourself.

“So you’re threatened by a teenage boy?” You scoff at him.

“Don’t act so high and mighty when less than two minutes ago, you were on your knees and begging for my cock.” He says in that same unconcerned tone.

“I-I was hardly begging.” You protest weakly because you know how true his words are.

“Why would I want such a silly little slut anyhow? Who knows what you got fucking all those other boys. Tell me, did you let Jake hit it raw?” He says so cruelly that tears spring to your eyes. You rush out of the room and up the stairs.

“Fuck.” He murmurs, knowing he went too far.

He rubs his temples, hearing the quiet sobs coming from your bedroom. Your stepfather knows he should treat you more gently. He gives you a minute to yourself before walking up the stairs and knocking.

“What?” You ask abrasively as he walks in.

“I apologize for what I said. You’re no slut and you can fuck who you please.” His jaw clenches at the last sentence. He clearly doesn’t want you fucking other people.

“I don’t want to fuck anyone else and you ignore me so often. How would I even know if you like me?” You sniffle.

He comes and sits beside you. “Oh baby, of course I like you.” He runs his fingers through your hair. “I didn’t mean to neglect my little girl.”

He takes the towel that is wrapped around you like a safety blanket and pulls it away. You immediately try to grab it back but he doesn’t let you. He then pulls you to your feet.

“No, let me look at you.” He doesn’t just look though. No, he touches you as well. Daemon’s hands trace down your sides and over your breasts, between your thighs. “Such a sweet thing. I want you to be only for me. Do you understand?” You nod timidly. “And I’ll be only for you.” You look pleased at this but also a little in dream land as he drops to his knees.

Daemon hooks an arm around your left thigh and spreads your legs a little so he can begin to eat you out. He goes very slowly, giving very much attention to everywhere but your pearl and you have to hold onto his hair to anchor yourself. You grind against his face a little to try and get the attention onto your pearl. He chuckles from between your thighs and begins to suck right where you want him to.

“Ah ah…” You let out quiet little moans and he rubs up and down your thigh for comfort.

You tug on his hair harder now as he uses his tongue to try and coax your peak out of you. He works his mouth a little faster now, knowing how close you are. You can feel it building more, and more… until you fall over the edge, your legs trembling as the high washes over you. He moves his tongue slowly now, so he can help you come down off it peacefully.

“Good girl.” He says as he parts his mouth from your folds, his lips shining with your wetness. “That silly boy never made you feel so good, did he?” You flush in a way that he wasn’t expecting, like you’re hiding something. “What is it, princess? Did he not make you cum?” He asks, still on his knees for you so he can press fluttering kisses to your abdomen.

“I um… we didn’t.” You start.

“Oh honey, did he even touch you? Did you let him take those pretty panties off?” He only has to look at your face to know the answer. “Then what were those sounds coming from your room?”

“I grinded on him a bit.” You say softly.

“Did you make the poor boy cum in his boxers?” He asks with a chuckle as he stands, causing you to look up at him.

You nod.

“I hardly believe a little dry humping was making you moan like that.” He says.

“I might have exaggerated so you’d hear.” You say bashfully.

“I thought so. You did all that to get daddy’s attention? Seven hells, baby, you need to learn to just ask.” He says as he holds your chin and runs a finger over your lips.

“Okay.” You say submissively.

“Who knew such an innocent looking thing would need to be fucked so badly.” He murmurs. “Go lay on my bed and wait for me.” He says and you quickly scurry off to his room.

He makes you wait for a while, grabbing some nice ribbon that would be strong enough to restrain you. When he enters his room, you’re lying on your tummy, clutching a pillow.

“On your back, hands above your head.” He commands and you listen carefully and obey.

He then brings out the ribbon to tie your wrists together and to the headboard. “Does that hurt?”

“No.” You say as you shake your head.

He hmms in approval and parts your thighs again so he can eat you once more. You’re surprised by this, not sure how much he thinks you can take.

Once Daemon gets a second orgasm out of you, he strips down himself.

“I just… need a moment.” You say, all dazed but he puts a hand to your folds and begins to rub slowly.

“No.” He says a little coldly. “You don’t get a moment.”

You try to pull your hips away as he rubs his tip against your pearl but no amount of squirming can keep him from you.

“Daddy…” you whimper out, not knowing really if it’s a plea for more or a plea for him to stop. You can’t form the thoughts to actually care either way.

“Shhh, little girl. I know what you need.” He slips himself inside of you and you’re so slick that it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it usually does. You just feel a dull sort of ache as you take him in.

He cants his hips against yours again and again, the gentle thrusts stirring something up in your tummy. He leaves your pearl alone now but it doesn’t stop the sensation, like a coil winding up in your tummy. You’ve never considered that you could peak from penetration alone but as he lazily moves his cock in and out of you, you know that it’ll be the case today. Daemon looks surprised as well as he sees that glaze in your eyes you get when you’re close. He stopped the stimulation to draw out your pleasure but realizes that it’s likely that the smallest touches from him right now would cause you to peak.

“Are you going to cum, baby?” He asks you gently.

You just gaze up at him dreamily in response. He then feels you clench around him, watches your face screw up a bit as you squirm again. He knows he should probably stop, he could just pump himself and finish on your tummy, but he doesn’t. He keeps thrusting into you, fucking you through the high and then some. The overstimulation has you tugging on the ribbons that hold you.

“Just a little longer.” He says to assure you.

“It’s too much…” You mewl out.

He keeps his steady thrusts and you feel yourself slipping away, the touch on your pearl not even bringing you back to reality. He cums inside you and the gooey warm feeling makes you peak a fourth time but your drowsiness has your eyes feeling heavy.

“Oh, baby.” He coos out as you fall into sleep.

You don’t feel what happens next, how he unties you or wipes you down gently with a cloth. He lets you sleep for a half hour before waking you up with light strokes to your hair.

“How do you feel?” He asks as your vision unblurs.

“Tired.” You say.

“You just woke up.” He says with a light, breathy chuckle. “My sleeping beauty.”

“Lay with me for a while longer?” You ask but it’s not really a question.

Daemon could never deny you when you’re like this so he gets under the warm, fluffy covers with you. You cling to him like a koala, resting your head on his chest so you can hear him breathe. You both are more than content to lay like this. You want to absorb into him but for now you can settle on feeling the rise and fall of his chest.

Taglist(comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

Daddy’s girl: @mukduk-not-murder @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @thefallenangel21n @ajthefujoshi

#daemon #daemon Targaryen #daemon smut #daemon targaryen smut #hotd #hotd smut #daemon x you #daemon targeryen x reader #daddy daemon #stepdad!daemon #stepdad smut

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neroushalvaus · 5 months

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Tumblr in the 60s – deleted posts

Some people requested a sequel to this post so I thought I'd post these drafts that didn't make it to the original. Maybe doing more at some point if the inspiration hits me but I hope these bring you some joy.

🚀 starrfleet Follow

HEY GUYS!! We're buying The Beatles so John and Paul can finally get together!! Who's in

🎹 nixonsafascist Follow

Call that... Beatles for Sale

🚀 starrfleet Follow

Dude this is serious. We want to free them. Why is homophobia so very funny to you?

🎶 mclennstarrison Follow

Didn't The Beatles start managing themselves after Mr Epstein died? So you plan to buy them... From themselves?

🚀 starrfleet Follow

Oh so the george harrison vampire mpreg blog is going to preach to us now.

92 notes

📻 lesbianbobdylan Follow

"Let men have short hair!!" "It's okay to not agree with the civil rights folk" "Don't let tumblr tell you that serving your country is bad" You are all so chronically online and convinced your little hippie bubble represents the world that you have the worst takes. Conservatism is alive and well, us hippies are the fucking minority. The outside world is perfectly okay with all the anti-mlk short-haired men who are happily getting drafted. You are not counterculture.

15,5 t. notes

☁️ ankin-vaimo Follow

Tumblr is so US/UK centric. Scrolling through this site you'd think there were no other tv shows than star trek and no other bands than the monkees and that the stonewall riots were the only meaningful political activism that has ever happened. There's so much great culture elsewhere. I bet you have never even heard of Tapani Kansa.

🇻🇳 shirellesofficial

#shhh don't tell Tumblr that other countries exist #they couldn't even admit Please Mr. Postman was originated by black women (tags via @marvelettesofficial)

peer reviewed tags

#sorry for going through your tumblr marvelettesofficial #you're just so funny #hope i'm not annoying you

54 notes

🌼 andpeoplesaywebeatlearound Follow

People really like to pretend us Beatles girlies hate Y*ko for being asian and a woman like she didn't literally make John cheat on his wife and leave his young son

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians Follow

don't talk like us beatles girlies are all the same, i personally want to fuck her on a canvas while we're both covered in menstrual blood, creating modern art by making love

✝️ jesusrevolution Follow

Op is this you? ↓

🎶 mclennstarrison Follow

Also like, "made John cheat on his wife and leave his young son", did John himself have nothing to do with that decision or..?

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians Follow

do you guys think she and john do mommy play

🎶 mclennstarrison Follow

I appreciate the input @prostitutesandlesbians but we're trying to call the op out for being a racist misogynist

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians Follow

sorry

346 notes

🤪 thekinkykinks Follow

Why is there even discourse about this... Yeah, the folks at Stonewall could have been more respectful towards the police officers who were just doing their jobs, but why are we acting like throwing some pennies at the police officers and calling them "Lily Law" is the worst type of oppression

🥿 trustnobutch Follow

You know what? No. Fuck you. I'm tired of you all talking about these people like they were your poor little meow meows. Have you read about this at all? The raid did not happen because the police "hates gay people wah wah". Stonewall Inn was run by the mob. The. Fucking. Mob. Would you rather have the police not protecting us from criminals, huh??? And the rioters were nothing but a bunch of attention seekers. I heard that a guy from the fucking Mattachine Society phoned newspapers and took pictures of the riot. I'm so disappointed, that was the only gay group that seemed to care about looking respectable in the eyes of the heterosexuals. People who were there made us all look bad and set our movement back like 50 years. Fuck you for supporting them.

🍊 kissmemissoklaholma Follow

Yeah. I heard someone threw a brick.

✌ draftdodgerdyke

??? Nobody threw bricks, where the fuck do you get your information ??

#they should have tho #chilling at the stockholm airport finding the weirdest takes

998 notes

🧸 teddyboyfemme Follow

i'm sharing a joint with this cute ass butch with the cutest curliest hair ever guyyyyssss I think i'm falling in love

🧸 teddyboyfemme Follow

she plays the harmonica for me i want to fuck her to the mattress

🧸 teddyboyfemme Follow

i don't have any idea what she's singing about but i think she likes the rolling stones too, we have so much in commonnnn

🧸 teddyboyfemme Follow

So it turns out that was Bob Dylan.

70,9 t. notes

#tumblr in the 60s #1960s #dashboard simulator #i edited some of them so they'd appear more finished #racism ment //#better safe than sorry

443 notes · View notes

vivalabunbun · 1 year

Text

Overdue Books and Ghost Stories

Summary: If the scholars at the Akademiya are so smart, why can’t they remember a few due dates?

Word Count: 6.4K

Tags: Alhaithamx GN! Reader, Shy! Reader (you hate eye contact), Librarian! Reader, Fluff, SFW, attempts at humor, pure fluff, written before 3.6 so Alhaitham is still acting grand sage, slowish burn?, Akademiya setting, slight mutual pining, Sumeru boys drive the librarian insane, especially a certain gray-haired bookworm.

Authors note: I just wanted something light-hearted and fun to write as a reward for getting stuff done. Shy people who force themselves to be responsible and hate eye contact unite! Enjoy!

He’s being followed.

Alhaitham can feel the fleeting presence lingering just a few seconds behind him.

The warm late afternoon breeze caressing through his grey locks, his cape trailing behind, and belt clattering with each fluid step. Teal-orange eyes faced forward towards the hectic stall-lined streets, but his attention was focused on the ghost that trails him from behind.

Every merge into the crowded pathways lined with vendors, every sharp turn down hidden allies, every street he circles back on, the traces linger like a dream fleeting from the memories of deep sleep.

He can’t allow a ghost to accompany him home, lest it decides to haunt the house.

Alhaitham had wasted enough time walking in aimless circles, if he can’t throw off the ghost, he concludes he must exorcise it.

Long legs pivot into an alley confined by stone walls and empty of shouting merchants and haggling shoppers. One, two, three slow strides towards the pale dead end that faced him.

“I know you’re there. Might as well stop with the games.”

Ghosts don’t exist outside tales told to innocent children to keep them tucked tightly under the covers. However, the iniquitous villains that terrorize the plot do, and they’re known as humans.

Were they going to fight or flee?

The presence behind Alhaitham finally materialized into something more than a fleeting dream. He glanced over his shoulder, hand ready to summon his sword. Behind him stood an unassuming figure, with no sensible ill intentions, their hands up as a sign of surrender.

Eyes adverted elsewhere like a child caught trying to sneak one more piece of candied Ajilenakh Nut.

The viridescent robe that enveloped your figure paired with the matching barrette, there’s no mistaking your identity. Another scholar from the Akademiya, great.

With power comes prestige, two notions Alhaitham couldn’t care less for. He was more than satisfied as a simple Scribe filing away applications in the archives away from searching eyes.

Those days were a luxury stolen from him by the title of “Acting Grand Sage”.

Now it wasn’t an uncommon sight for some researcher to come floundering through the crowded halls of the institution towards the ashen-haired man. From time to time there would be the bold student, agglutinating to his side with their wasted attempts at a conversation.

With great power comes great inconveniences.

Inconveniences that unabashedly believed their polite smiles could divert his teal gaze away from the insincerity. That offering a cup of coffee along with a rehearsed elevator pitch could sow the seeds of a superficial bridge.

One where they’d walk across with forms awaiting a signature along dotted lines or a towards a potential high seat at the Akademiya.

Their desire for this absent bridge coerced them to shallow down their pride, spurring this fruitless endeavor despite the Acting Grand Sage’s indifference and unreturned interest in small talk.

First, he was pressured into taking a position he didn’t want, then he became the target of people’s irrelevant aspirations, and most damning of it all even his privacy’s being invaded. To put it frankly, Alhaitham’s tired of it all.

Surely, it couldn’t take this long for the great institution of wisdom to select another leader, when can he finally stop this sham act?

“I’m off the clock, come find me on the next working day.” He’d prefer it if you didn’t.

The frigidness of his words with their thinly veiled politeness didn’t cause a single muscle of yours to budge.

“The Epistulae Morales ad Lucilium has been overdue for 6 weeks now, please return it to the House of Daena immediately.” A hand extended out in front of you, open and expecting.

No introduction, no chivalrous greeting, no frivolous small talk. Alhaitham certainly wasn’t expecting this from the strange ghost that stalked him.

Oh, so that’s where your eyes were. Honing in solely on the book currently clutched by his hip. One of the many books he signed out of the House Daena on a whim, simple academic works to stimulate his mind during the respite between busybodies and paperwork.

One he then promptly cast to the side by the beckoning of a journal from the restricted access collection. Only after a pile of files was removed from his desk that his eyes rediscovered the title.

“I understand, I shall promptly return it by the end of the next work day.”

“No, a student has requested this title for a week now, after they’re done with it, you may sign it out again.” Voice firm and steady as you gestured for the book to be returned to your hand.

No. An unfamiliar word spoken in a tone now foreign to the towering man.

His keen eyes observed your homogeneous uniform of standard greens and gold, you must be a regular librarian employed by the Akademiya. The Akademiya currently under his jurisdiction.

How bold of you, or has this job already drained you of all sense of self-preservation?

Regardless, your statement wasn’t without merit. The Epistulae Morales ad Lucilium doesn’t belong to him, and who was he to inconvenience a standard employee this Wednesday afternoon?

It wouldn’t serve him any benefit to be in the ire of a librarian, Alhaitham concludes it would be wise to just surrender the book. So he relinquished it.

From your pocket, your other hand produced a slip of parchment.

“Here is the late fee, please address the payment to the House of Daena by next Wednesday.”

Instead of offering the Acting Grand Sage a cup of coffee, you offered him a fine in exchange for confiscating his book.

With a slight bow, the ghost was exorcised, ambling back into the busy streets of Sumeru City until your back disappears from his teal eyes.

Alhaitham was left with no introduction, no coffee, and no book to spend the evening with. Even still, his mind has found something else to ponder about to pass the time.

Alhaitham slowly rejoins the buzzing city streets, the chattering voices carried by the cool breeze that rustled his cape and made his ash locks brush his cheeks.

‘How refreshing,’ he thought.

When the current Acting Grand Sage of the Akademiya was announced most people never heard his name before. Have they ever shared a class together? Were they ever in a group research project together? How could someone so brilliant escape the eyes of eager upstarts?

They could’ve had a prominent headstart in their careers if they’d built those bridges all those years back.

To be fair, you would’ve fallen into the clueless demographic as well. Were the two of you in the same graduating class? If your job didn’t require you to check the library ledgers every day, his name would’ve eluded you.

Even with a brisk thumbing through of the ledgers, it’s hard to miss the repetition printed on the pages.

Alhaitham was a regular name to be found in the library ledgers, you’d even argue he’s the biggest patron of the House of Daena.

However, it wasn’t the only pattern that would jump out to even the blindest man in Teyvat. What would be printed next to each book signed out by Alhaitham? Overdue.

Yes, you would think a man brilliant enough to plan the greatest insurrection in Sumeru’s history could remember a few due dates. But the ledgers refute that impression.

Before, the Scribe turned Grand Sage would simply return the books 1 or 2 weeks overdue and pay the fee at the same time.

Was it due to the increased responsibilities that now befell him or the increased financial freedom granted by a bigger paycheck that caused this pattern of extended tardiness?

Regardless, The Epistulae Morales ad Lucilium has returned back to the House of Daena, much to the delight of a hysterical student who pushed off a paper for a bit too long.

That Wednesday afternoon was the first time you spoke to the mysterious man of infamy, in an alleyway tucked away from prying eyes. He gave you the book without much of a fight and accepted the punishment without complaint.

If only it was always this easy.

First impression overall? The whispers in the halls were an inaccurate depiction of Alhaitham. To you at least, he was a rather tolerable man with a good sense of regulations, handsome hands too.

Was your first impression bad? Impudent even? Script rushed by the pounding metronome of your heart, skipping over a few key sentences, like an introduction.

Oh, you also forgot to call him Grand Sage… Surely he won’t hold such a petty grudge over that, he seems sensible.

You flipped through the library ledgers one last time before your duties ended for the day, stopping on a page as you pursed your lip at the familiar name next to The Critique of Pure Reason boldly stamped overdue.

If only the Grand Sage would fix this sloppy habit of his.

Alhaitham is very much aware of the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, the frequency illusion. The tendency to notice something more often after noticing it for the first time. It wasn’t hard to pinpoint the exact inception of this phenomenon he was experiencing, a certain meeting in an alleyway.

–

“General Mahamatra,” A distinct cadence enticed the Ashen-haired man’s focus away from the matra delivering his daily report.

There’s a hush that befell the halls of the Akademiya today, no reason to speculate, it’d obvious to even the dimmest of fools. Cyno, the General Mahamatra, returned today from the sandy wastelands.

In fact, Alhaitham had just concluded his brief discussion with the electro wielder a few moments prior. The General left the paperwork delivery to the woefully ignored matra currently in front of the dendro wielder.

The faint reverberation of the dreaded title paralyzed the few scholars and researchers that dared roam the in presence of the General. Intense scarlet eyes centered on the viridescent clad librarian that called, your eyes seemed occupied with the object encased by tan fingers.

“Law and Order of the Pursuit of Wisdom is overdue.” A steady cadence incited the General.

“By how long?” Spoke an authoritarian tone.

“8 weeks, General.” There wasn’t the slightest pause from you.

The dense tension within the enclosed space was palpable, many pairs of eyes fixed on the scene happening under these fluorescent lights.

The seconds counting down to the decisive moment, what will become of the incautious librarian after this show-down?

…

“My apologies, I should’ve returned the book before I embarked, may I pay the fee now?” The treacherous edge was absent from the general’s voice.

With a swift nod, you turned on your heel, leading the General Mahamatra toward the judgment awaiting him in the House of Daena. A sight so flipped on its head, the witnesses of this event couldn’t seem to decide which direction was up anymore.

–

“Mr. Kaveh.”

A librarian intercepted a certain famed architect’s search for a certain Grand Sage evading the responsibilities piling up on a polished desk.

A spectacle was certainly about to happen in the House of Daena, Alhaitham gathers from his position just covered by a towering bookshelf.

“Oh, yes?” The furrow between blond eyebrows dissipates in an instant, his fury distracted for now by the polite use of his name.

“Were you the one to sign out The Death and Life of Great Design, Mr. Kaveh?” You held out the title in question, holy text for every architecture, your impassive eyes trained on the cover.

“That’s correct, I’m certain I returned it in time, has anything arisen?” The light of Kshahrewar raised a brow at the sudden inquiry.

“Would you mind explaining this, Mr. Kaveh?”

The book was pried open, revealing to the world the chaotic collage of jumbled words and sketches haphazardly scribbled among the print with the faintest whiff of wine.

Even from this distance, the bold vandalism was observable to his teal eyes. So was the slackened jaw of the architect with his now saucer-sized eyes.

The closest equivalent Alhaitham could compare your current expression with was a parent’s gaze toward the discovery of a crayon mural on a wall. Three pairs of eyes observing the blatant defacement of literature.

“The replacement cost of this book is 141,471 mora, it was an antique print.” Your hands gingerly shut the covers, hiding the book’s shame away.

“H-how much??”

“I’ve written the amount down on this form, please address the payment to the House of Daena by the end of this month, Mr. Kaveh.” From your pocket, you presented the blonde with a fine that exacerbated his dreadful finances.

With this, your performance concluded, a mannered bow before swiveling back to your post at the library’s front desk. Leaving the famed Kaveh silent and color absent from his face, the slip of parchment pathetically pinched between ailing fingers.

Stepping back into the shadow of the shelves, Alhaitham reaches a hand up to enable the feature of his earphones that preserves his sanity. He already had a premonition of what was to greet him, might as well enjoy the fleeting moments of silence while it lasted.

–

The sky over Sumeru was a brilliant blue, tufts of fluffy clouds cushioned the earth from the harshest rays of the sun, but not enough to embargo the comforting warmth. It’d be a shame to throw away such beautiful weather in the confines of an office.

Enough justification for Alhaitham to enjoy a quiet reading session under a hidden pavilion, just to the side of a neglected pathway at the Akademiya.

Just because a place is neglected, it doesn’t mean it’s completely abandoned. The scurrying of two sets of steps made their presence known along the uneven path.

“Please return Handbook of Qualitative Research to the House of Daena,” your stony voice perked his ears.

Those words weren’t directed towards the unseen Acting Grand Sage, no, they were addressed towards the researcher whom you were just a few seconds behind. Impassive gaze concentrated on the overdue book in his arms.

The exasperated man huffed out a breath, bringing a hand up to rub at his dry eyes drooping under the weight of the discolored skin hanging under them. Alhaitham hypothesizes that this must have gone on for a while.

“Listen, I know it’s overdue, I promise to return it once this report is finished.” The researcher tries to quicken his strides.

“No, it’s late 4 weeks now, please hand over the book.” That signature gesture made its appearance, palms open and expecting, your pace never once faltering.

“Could you please make an exception, just this once?” Tired exasperation morphing into a sharper edge.

“There are three other patrons queuing for this book, I’ll add you to the list and notify you once the title is available again.” Indifferent eyes never once left the imprisoned book.

Ah, your words became the straw that broke the Sumpter Beast’s back.

“Three? THREE??! I don’t have the time! If they’re students they can wait, this project has dragged out for months, months! It’s only now drawing to a close, oh for the love of Lesser Lord Kusanali, just let me-”

Fatigue overboiled into raw frustration, the researcher now lively as ever, moved senselessly close to your face.

One boot-clad step makes its appearance from behind a pillar. It’d be best to de-escalate the situation now before the potential for a physical alteration manifests into reality.

Especially for a librarian that’s too focused on a book to recognize the looming threat. As Acting Grand Sage, maintaining order was the priority.

Instantaneously, a lone finger shot out towards the azure sky, with it followed the wearied eyes of a man mid-manifesto. The hypnotically soothing hue of the vast space momentarily ceased the researcher’s grievance, reminding him of the bigger picture, of the bigger world.

Bringing him comfort with the realization that these sleepless nights won’t be permanent, that this too shall pass.

Was that the goal of your diversion? Probably not. Regardless, the hostage has been rescued into your secure arms, back where the book belonged.

The view of the sky must’ve reminded the researcher’s body of its limit, as his movements faltered back sluggishly. Bloodshot eyes blinking at his now empty hands.

“Please address the payment to the House of Daena by next week.” A slip of parchment produced from your pocket fills that void for him.

Without another word, the librarian trekked back up the beaten path, leaving behind two very silent men. With only the researcher’s figure left in sight, Alhaitham’s mind quickly lost interest.

Withdrawing back behind the cover of the marble pillar, he couldn’t help but recount the details.

‘The General Librarian’, ‘The Punisher of Fines’, ‘The Ghost of Due Dates Past’. All names coined by the sleep-deprived minds of slouching students and destitute scholars awaiting the saving grace that was their paycheck.

Perhaps it’s that inorganic cadence of your voice. Or how one of your hands reaches out to demand the return of printed works while the other indited the transgressors with a note worth months of coffee.

Maybe it’s the focus of your catatonic gaze solely upon the books in question, denying wrongdoers a chance of mercy formed by eye contact.

An itch tickled the back of Alhaitham’s throat, the same sensation that tugged the corner of his lips upwards towards the brilliant sky.

How did such a fascinating individual slip away from under his nose for so long?

Almost there, just a little longer, the doors to the House of Daena came into view, you’re so close to reprieve. One hand still clutching the freshly recused book against your chest, you pried the door to the staff room open. Empty.

Thank the Archons.

Ducking into the sanctuary devoid of library patrons and chattering coworkers, sealing the solid wood behind your back, you could finally breathe.

Lungs burning for the taste of oxygen again, the pounding in your chest subsiding with each greedy gulp. Drained figure finding solstice against the sturdy door.

You achieved your goal, so why were you so defeated?

His eyes got close, dangerously close. In your peripheral, the puffiness of his eye bags were in full detail. Your lids shut firmly as if shutting out the intrusive thoughts that threatened to infiltrate your mind.

It’s fine, everything is fine, your eyes never met. There’s no arrow in the back of your heel, the script has not gone off course.

What a childish Achilles heel, eye contact, the most basic requirement for a conversation between peers and people. One you can’t fulfill. Even the briefest moment of connection will crumble the mask you dawn, exposing the puny coward to the world.

One look and you’ll be thrown off script, your career’s saving grace.

Book overdue?: “Please return [Title] and address the late fee payment to the House of Danea by next week.”

Damages?: “Please compensate the House of Daena for the damages done to [Title] by next month.”

Need a book that isn’t available?: “I’ll add your name to the waitlist for [Title] and inform you when it’s returned.”

Lines rehearsed time and time again, now ingrained into your tongue, spoken by instinct. It’s not a conversation, it’s merely a stage play, performed by a coward shielded by a crafted blanket of indifference.

‘The General Librarian’, ‘The Punisher of Fines’, ‘The Ghost of Due Dates Past’.

Better that they interpret your aversion to eye contact as malice instead of cowardice. After all, the world is not kind, especially not towards the meek. Papers and delegated responsibilities suddenly thrust upon those too shy to voice their dismay.

What could the meek do? Nothing. So they’ll silently grit their teeth and bare it all as a doormat trampled by those whose voices don’t stumble and shutter.

A scheme you’ve fell victim to time and time again within the walls of this hallow institute of knowledge. An experience under oath by oneself to never repeat again.

The intermission is over, the performer must return back to their positions. You unlatched the door, stepping back into the fluorescent lights of the House of Daena.

Alhaitham is aware of the frequency illusion, however, he’d argue that it’s no longer an illusion. The ghost has come back to haunt him. For what reason? Alhaitham’s not sure. Surely his books aren’t that overdue, and if they were then why hasn’t your hand appeared in front of him?

Instead, you left traces, whispers of your presence in the form of handkerchiefs and pressed flowers on slips of paper.

The evidence found beside the Acting Grande Sage’s lunches and piles of applications, his teal eyes always just catching the briefest viridescent wisp fleeing the scene of the crime.

The ashen-haired man finds great delight in abstruse books, the rare feeling of reading a line more than once to grasp the concepts formed on the page.

He enjoys the sporadic occurrences that challenge his sharp mind, it’s good to feel fresh thoughts run through.

Has Alhaitham found an archaic journal tucked away in some dusty corner? Perhaps he found a handwritten copy of a book, one with fewer than ten in existence. Was it a long-forgotten text that challenged contemporary beliefs?

Surely, to baffle the man known as Alhaitham, the scripts must have something reality-shattering. Like something saying that the azure sky, with its moon and sun, were nothing but mere imitations.

No. It wasn’t any print signed out from the restricted collection in the House of Daena that had Alhaitham’s mind pondering the slightest nuances. It was the librarian, currently penning his name down in the ledgers, that perplexed the towering man.

Humans are flawed in the sense that they’re uncomfortable with the concept of ‘unconditionality’. Everything has a fair price and equivalent exchange. One back was scratched in return for the same. So, what did you want?

Were you trying to form a bridge? One crafted from slips of paper and thin decorative fabric? If so, then why has your introduction yet to reach his ears?

The eyes are the window to the soul. Windows that offer indispensable insight into the other person’s agenda and convictions. For the Acting Grand Sage, it’s easier for him to gain access to the restricted vaults in the House of Daena than the librarian’s eyes.

Is it unprofessional to think that the Grand Sage, the figurehead of the Akademiya, is a menace? If you kept these thoughts to yourself then it shouldn’t be a problem, right?

Could it be the nagging of Kshahrewar students, whining over the unavailability of their holy text, that made you hypersensitive to the treatment of printed works?

The students should direct their grievances towards the ‘light’ of their Darshan, the one that defaced their holy text. You’re a librarian, not a magician you can’t make books appear from the abyss.

It was a coincidence to witness the Grand Sage, Alhaitham, enjoying a shawarma wrap under the shade of a stained-glass pavilion. There’s nothing wrong with a man just having his lunch. However, there was something very wrong with how his other hand held a book.

Paper becomes discolored in the stained area and transparent as molecules of oil fill the spaces between cellulose fibers. Over time, the parchment will become brown and brittle, the ink lifted by the fatty acids.

But what can you do? Interrupt the Grand Sage’s lunch? Lecture a superior on proper book care procedures?

You’re not dense.

Still, you could take some preventative measures. Done in the form of a handkerchief carefully folded just behind his right shoulder. He seemed too engrossed in the text to perceive your proximity to him. It was just for a few seconds anyways. You retreated.

The next incident happened within the wall of the House of Daena, where food and drinks were strictly forbidden. It was a slow day, with nothing much to do besides returning a few books back to their proper homes along the hundreds of shelves.

During one of the many trips pushing the cart back and forth along the path, a certain head of ashen hair with teal streaks fell into your peripheral. It must be a slow day for him too. The Grand Sage certainly made himself comfortable, desk piled with stacks of books strewn about.

The purse on your lips returns as one side of your cheek is sucked in. A few of the books were opened and placed paper-side down on the smooth table. You witnessed him losing interest in his current text, letting it join the spread bodies of its fellow brethren.

Laying a book face-down breaks the binding and weakens the hinges, where the covers attach to the pages. Some of those titles have existed for more than double your combined ages, think of their poor spines.

Out of pity for the aged scripts and for your own patience, while passing his table from a pocket you slipped out a clumsily made bookmark.

Fashioned from scrap paper, craft supplies, and one of the many Sumeru Roses that dotted the paths in this nation. A new hobby of yours that’s proven itself useful.

With your duty fulfilled you returned back among the towering shelves.

–

The job of a Grand Sage is demanding, much more demand than the job description of a librarian, you understood that. However, surely there are enough hours in the day for him to have lunch and read separately.

The position of Grand Sage means he often has to determine the best policies and actions. So why can’t he read one book at a time, close it properly, then pick up the next?

Being the Grand Sage must be time-consuming and hectic, but he could at least send someone to return his books before the due date.

How many handkerchiefs did you purchase in the last month alone? How many yards of decorative string? Is it possible to make the Sumeru Rose endangered? Would it be appropriate for you to itemize your purchases for reimbursement by the Akademiya?

For a person that enjoys reading printed works, it seems that he’s only concerned with the contents of the book and not its physical well-being. A menace to literature.

You were the unlucky sheep tasked with delivering the new budget proposal for the House of Daena. Stepping into the grand office after an unnecessarily long elevator ride, you wondered what violations will greet you this time, or if the elusive man was even here.

Ambling towards his desk, eyes focused on the budget in front of you, only switching position once the polished wood came into view.

Ah, he had another book face-down on the desk with one of your bookmarks just off to the side. He almost had it. Glancing up, your world momentarily stilled.

The Grand Sage was in his office after all. Chest gently rose and fell, face supported by the back of his knuckle, long lashes closed. Thank Archons, he’s asleep. Your heart restarts its tempo.

Your eyes quickly snapped back to the cover of the book, The Symposium, you recognized that title from this morning’s flip through the ledgers. It’s overdue.

There’s not even a point in sighing, you expected this. Flipping over the philosophical work you gingerly placed the bookmark in properly, then shut the covers closed.

Curious eyes wandered back to the sleeping figure in the board seat. His ashen hair looked soft as it fell across his face, lips slightly parted as quiet breaths exhaled.

From his lips, your greedy eyes began to trail down his covered arms, all the way down to the bare break that exposed his robust arm-

You stopped yourself, he’s asleep. You must be reading too many books from a certain island nation.

Is it unprofessional to think that the Grand Sage, the figurehead of the Akademiya, is attractive? If you kept these thoughts to yourself then it shouldn’t be a problem, right?

You left two pieces of parchment on his desk.

‘I’ll give a one-week extension, please return this title to the House of Daena before then.’

Alhaitham certainly didn’t expect to find this from ‘The Ghost of Due Dates Past’ when waking from a nap, he wondered if it was conquered by the remnants of sleep.

Or perhaps it was their parting gift, one last lingering trace before the ghost that haunted him for these past few months retreated back into their world. No more handkerchiefs left by his lunches. No more pressed flowers to decorate his desk. His teal eyes were unable to catch a very specific hue of viridescences.

Did the ghost slip out from under his nose again?

–

There isn’t much of a reason for Alhaitham to be at the Pardis Dhyai, after all, he’s not a Amurta scholar. Just a chore from this temporary position. His boot-clad steps made their way up the stone path blooming with lush vegetation, the view was almost enough to make up for the troublesome journey.

Keen eyes honed in on familiar ebony ears from the doorway to the greenhouse. Oh, Tighnari is here? What a rare sight.

“Please pay the late fee by the end of the week.” A certain cadence seized his attention.

“Yes, yes, I get it,” Tighnari sighed, moving to place his closed pen where he left off in the book.

“Chief Forest Ranger, please use this instead.” From your pocket emerged an all too familiar violet.

“Oh? Did you make this yourself? Mm, a Sumeru Rose, on my way here I noticed that these plants don’t seem as plentiful recently.” The forest ranger observed the bookmark in his gloved hands.

“I wouldn’t know, sir.”

Oh, so you gave those bookmarks out to anyone indiscriminately. It made sense, you’re a librarian, employed to help the patrons of the House of Daena with their literary needs.

It didn’t mean much just to hand out a few slips of paper. Something annoying and greener than the foliage scratched at Alhaitham’s neck.

–

At the Pardis Dhyai, you had a duty to fulfill, as did he. Not an appropriate time to initiate a conversation.

Thus, the ashen-haired man can only mull over the situation in the stillness of his own home. A blond architect sent out to fetch groceries to account for a certain damages fee.

A lone finger taps rhythmically on solid oak while the opposite hand supports his pondering head. As quickly as you came, you left just as suddenly. As capricious as the wind, slipping through the gaps of his fingers just as easily.

How does one catch a ghost?

Beryl gaze travels the length of the workspace, over the scattered sheets and abandoned quills, landing upon negligently stacked covers. A scheme conquers itself into existence.

Throughout history, many methods and rituals have been used to summon beings from the great beyond. As a scholar, who was he not to test those hypotheses?

The Norton Anthology of World Literature; Overdue 5 weeks

Academic Charisma and the Origins of the Research; Overdue 5 weeks

Cases on Academic Rights and Justice; Overdue 5 weeks

The Symposium; Overdue 8 weeks

Patron: Alhaitham

Ah, you can’t let this continue. It’s time for ‘The Ghost of Due Dates Past’ to collect their dues. Even if you wanted to bash your head into the ledgers.

–

Just beyond the threshold of a pavilion offering shelter from the sun's rays stood a familiar caped frame. Unabashedly reading The Symposium, back resting against the pillar.

Plugging the title into your script your lungs muster up a deep inhale, it’s time for the coward to dance on stage.

“Grand Sage.” You stopped a few paces away.

There was the gentle clatter of his belt and cape, the weight of his gaze now resting upon your shoulders, but your eyes were honed in on the cover in his clutches. You got his title this time.

Alhaitham feels he should give bygone scholars and minds more merit, a ghost can be summoned, an incentive is needed for the ritual.

“Please return The Symposium immediately, and address the payment to the House of Daena by the end of the week.” Like rehearsed, your hand reached out, palms awaiting the smooth back of the book.

His half-gloved hand shut the pages together, rotating the book horizontally, it slowly travels the distance to your hands. Your eyes chaperoned every movement, legs eager to return backstage to the House of Daena.

Just as the smooth cover brushed against the clammy skin of your palms before your fingers could fully enclose around it, the title suddenly took a detour. With it followed your attentive eyes.

It’s a childish scheme really, like a schoolyard bully using his vertical advantage to hold the object of desire just out of reach. As the saying goes, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. Such elementary actions hold some merit… because they worked.

Attentive eyes clashed with teal, stunned irises that dilated faster than the thump of your heart. You got to witness the Grand Sage’s features in all their glory for the first time, so his beryl eyes also held some citrine in them.

Instantly, your neck snapped to the side. But it’s already too late, the coward dropped their mask, shattering at their feet. Revealing to the world the scarlet face of the wimp whose sheet was stripped off their heads, there was never a ghost, only a performer.

You were standing in the shade, yet it felt as if you stumbled into the desert.

Alhaitham’s indebted to the fact you don’t look people in the eyes, such an event would prove disastrous for this institution of wisdom and rationality. Such a sight should have limited access he deems.

A sweet breeze blows through the pavilion, cooling his cheeks and yours the same, however, the ears hidden under his earphones still burned.

Throughout the House of Daena, the soft fluttering of pages turning and quills scribbling down notes could be heard. At the front, a librarian glances at the clock slowly ticking down to the hour of freedom.

“I would like to return these,” spoke a husky voice.

Your eyes traveled up from the freshly stacked books up toned forearms, reaching their final destination on a pair of impartial teal irises.

Opening up the ledger, you swiftly flipped to a familiar name. Scanning the titles you noted each one down.

The Uses of Literacy; due in 2 weeks

The Great Conversation; due in 2 weeks

Contingency, Irony, and Solidarity; due in 2 weeks

Patron: Alhaitham

“Thank you for returning the books before due, have a great evening.” You bowed a little at the Grand Sage. Gathering up the books into your hand and placing them in the return cart.

It’s past 5:30 pm, the Acting Grand Sage is now off the clock. Thus, he didn’t let one second go to waste. Long legs taking swift strides out of the grand doors of the Akademiya, skillfully dodging the searching eyes of ambitious scholars.

Ambling down the stone pathways to the bustling city center.

Entering the favored tavern of any famished local, Alhaitham places his order. Watching the clock as Lambad packed his two to-go bags.

Dropping the mora off on the counter, Alhaitham seized the freshly made dinners into his hands, exiting the tavern. Merging back into the crowded pathways until he reached his front door. Shifting the bags into one hand, he turns the silver key to his abode.

Placing the takeout bags onto the polished kitchen table, his teal eyes once again wander towards a clock, 6:10 pm.

He prepares two glasses and a bottle of wine from a secured cabinet. It’s the weekend now, there’s no risk in enjoying a few glasses tonight. Just as the ashen-haired man finished setting the table, the unlocked door lightly creaks ajar.

Your frame soon comes into view, arms stretched above your head to loosen the tension that comes with a desk job. A breathy yawn followed the release of tight muscles along your back, walking into the kitchen where Alhaitham stood.

“You’ve worked hard today.”

You hummed in agreement, hand gently rubbing the fatigue from your eyes as the delicious scent of tandoori roast chicken beckoned your nose.

Food and drinks were strictly forbidden in the House of Daena, and you’re quite ravenous. Advancing toward the paper bag located on your side of the table with an eager bounce in your step.

Only to be blocked by a toned arm.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, my librarian?” Inquired a low voice.

You glanced up at the hurdle that dare separate you from a delicious meal, lip pursed out just the slightest bit.

“I returned my books before due, desired behavior requires positive reinforcement.” There’s a glint in his beryl eyes.

You huffed, you should’ve known he was feeling a bit cheeky today from the moment he stepped foot into the library. Still, he’s right, good behavior deserves a reward.

Tenderly your hands clasped around his soft cheeks, guiding his face downwards as you straighten your back. His ashen locks tickled you as you awarded the towering man his prizes.

Your lips gingerly press themselves against his features, the warmth of your burning cheeks felt soothing to him, and you could feel the upward pull of his lips.

Once on the forehead, once under his eye, once on the nose, and… one final time against his soft lips.

Quickly pulling away, the slow blink followed by a slightly quirked eyebrow tells you enough about his thoughts.

“The last one was a thanks for the food.” You turned your flaming cheeks away, settling down and releasing your meal from the confines of the bag.

Your lover hums in understanding, a cheeky smirk ever so clear on his usually stoic face. Regardless, he moves to his side of the table and unpacks his dinner, filling two glasses with fragrant wine.

A clink signified the start of your dinner ritual, performed away from prying eyes.

Somewhere during the comfortably quiet dinner, Alhaitham’s hand by habit inched towards the book placed just off to the side, violet bookmark recording his last endeavor among the text.

Just as quickly as it started, his hand stopped. Like a stern swat, your eyes pierced into the back of his hand. A silent warning. He withdrew his hand back to his side, deciding to practice proper dining manners, for you of course.

Satisfied, your attention returns back to the seasoned meat and sauces on your plate, fork and knife quickly getting to work.

Alhaitham’s perfectly spiced food took a backseat in his mind, eyes more interested in observing the endearing fullness of your cheeks as you chewed.

Inquisitive irises returned his stare, he sees the teal that reflected off. How could the corners of his mouth not lift at the sight in front of him?

Please keep your eyes on him, so that he may continue to watch you for now and for the far future. His librarian.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

#alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x yn #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x you #genshin x reader #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham fanfic #alhaitham fluff #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #vivalabunbunfics #al haitham x reader #alhaitham scenarios #alhaitham imagines

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pansear-doodles · 2 months

Text

Let me get things out of the way first: I've seen a lot of misinformation being passed around, on twitter especially where a lot of folks jump into conclusions more so they can find a reason to be angry. This thread will clear things up.

Yes. Ludeo is very much a company with zi*nist views. This is a screencap of a post made AFTER Is*ael made an attack on Palestine. For those who think initially: "they're just run by folks from Is*ael" then here's proof that they're actively agreeing with genocide.

Videocult and Akupara DID NOT KNOW Ludeo had zi*nist views at the time they started collaborating, which dates from last year. It's only NOW that it's brought to attention by the RW community. They are working on arrangements in private as we speak.

The collab has caused a lot of complications, as it is pretty much one of the reasons why the game's price is upped. Our voices have already reached them- they're very well aware that we are NOT happy with this.

The feedback has of course reached the RW official server mods as well, and guess what: They didn't know until they were told. This is the first time they heard of this and they are very much making is very obvious that they do not agree with zi*nist views.

Unfortunately a lot of people thought them shutting down the server and any discussions of this whole event is "silencing" Let's be real here. NOBODY in the community wanted this, and it is very stressful to deal with all of this. Mods are 1% of the server population and-

-they are human too. People have called them spineless which is pretty pathetic. They have to babysit 50K+ MEMBERS everyday and they don't need to deal with anymore upsets. And sending your concerns to them is pointless- give your feedback to videocult and akupara instead!

As someone with modding experience elsewhere, I cannot imagine handling a server as big as that. People were sent FUCKING DEATH THREATS and they think this will solve anything??? At this point, it's just people trying to find the closest proximities to be mad at.

It is pointless and I am so tired of mods being called weak when they're just doing their job and hate Ludeo as much as everyone else. I doubt these people don't know what its like to be a mod. Creating a strike in a server where its supposed to be chill isn't the way.

The mods even directed the people more useful and more impactful ways to send the feedback across. This isn't silencing. People are just too angry to think straight and just wanted chaos as the option- when in reality its going to do more damage than good.

The server is a getaway place- it is not a server about politics- it is about a fucking video game. It is not the way to get the feedback in the way that actually matters. The staff openly announced the situation and showed their views so they're not trying to hide it.

Anyway, if it isn't clear. I hate zi*nists too. I hate colonialism. I hate using religion as an excuse to hurt and belittle people. I want people of Palestine to be free and I am hopeful that their freedom will come.

Yet people are ripping out those who are on the same team as them, spreading vitriol and misinformation. Please, twitter, think and cite your sources. To think only in anger will fog your senses and do more harm than good.

The mods are passionate folks and they do their job for free, just to make a safe environment. You may disagree with them sometimes, but I think it is stupid to outright call them ignorant or zi*nists themselves.

It *is* unfortunate that the devs and publishers didn't do enough background check, but at least they took our feedback into incredible consideration. We are not stopping our disagreement of integrating Ludeo, until something is done about it. Let's wait for more updates.

#rain world #rainworld #rainworld downpour #rain world downpour #long

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weird-is-life · 7 months

Note

hii wondering if you could do hotch x younger!reader? where he's being insecure about the age gap and comforts him and says that she loves it and he makes her feel safe and stuff --thank you in advance!

Hii, ty for the request! I hope you like this, it's short but cute, well at least I hope it is.😅🥰warnings: angsty, fluff, pet names, age gap (reader is in her late twenties or early thirties), (0.9k)

It's your birthday next week and, if truth be told, Aaron has been kind of dreading it. Not because of anything to do with you, but because it's a huge reminder of the age gap between you two.

You've been dating for a few months now and the thought's always been at the back of his head, even if he doesn't want to admit it to himself.

And his strange behaviour gets your attention. At first you brushed if off as him being tired and stressed from work. But as he zones out around you even on his days off, you know something is up.

You are both sprawled on his couch, when you notice his mind is elsewhere. So you finally decide to ask him about what is bothering him.

"Aaron?" you call out his name.

He hums, acknowledging that he is listening, even though his eyes are on the TV.

"Can I ask you something?" this finally catches his attention, making him pause the film and look at you.

"Of course, sweetheart, what is it?"

"I just....- is something wrong, Aaron?" his face scrunches in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Is it work? Or does it have something to do with me, if yes you can tell me, because I won't mind-"

"Honey, nothing is wrong with you or work," he reassures you instantly.

"Then what is it?" you question with a slightly desperate voice.

"Nothing, everything is okay," he lies, but you see right through him. His very skilled lying from work not working, when he is with you.

"Something's been bothering you lately and we both know it," you point it out softly, even if your voice is a little bit stern. He takes one look at you and sighs, he knows, he has to tell you the truth.

"Okay, yes, you are right, sweetheart," he murmurs quietly.

"What is it?" You ask with a gentle voice, putting your hand behind his neck to play with his hair.

He doesn't know how to say it, so the words just spill out of his mouth," I don't think, it's a good idea to be together."

You look at him with so much hurt and move away from him, that he immediately wants to take his words back.

"W-what?" you puzzle, your lower lip slightly wobbling.

It takes Aaron every strenght he has not to take his words back," I mean, look at you and me, honey. You are so much younger than me, you should be dating somebody close to your age. Not somebody who already has a son. I mean, I'm not even home half of the time, what kind of boyfriend does that make me?" He is frustrated, but not because of you, never because of you, he just wants you to live the life you deserve and not waste it by being with him.

And immediately after he finishes his talk your whole face changes. You go from heartbroken to angry and you slap him on the arm (gently).

"You are being ridiculous, Hotchner," you argue. You are frowning so much at him, that in any other situation Aaron would have laughed at your expression.

"But I'm not, I'm being serious. You shouldn't be waiting almost every day for me to finally come home from work. You should be out going on dates, that you deserve, and I can't always, almost never do that-"

you put your hand over his mouth before he can continue. "Shut up, I can't believe you right now," you shake your head in disagreement,

"do you love me?"

Your question seems absurd to Aaron, because it is so obvious. "Of course, I do, sweetheart. But it doesn't change the fact-"

"But it does. You love me and I love you. I don't care, what other people say or think. And i don't care, that you aren't home as much as we would both like. But when you are, you always make it worth it, always. And I like being home with Jack, I don't even really like going out, I'd rather just be home with you guys."

"Plus, have you seen yourself? Guys around my age have nothing on you, handsome. You are too good looking to get rid of me this easily. " Your last sentence is teasing, but that doesn't mean your words are any less true.

"Really?" It's not often that Aaron feels uncertain about things as he does now. So your words are like a warm hug for him. Making him let out the breath, he didn't even realise he was holding.

"Yes, really," you scooch closer to him, caressing both of his cheeks," I love you Aaron. There is never a moment, that makes me doubt you or doubt us. What made you feel this way, huh?"

"I guess, it's always been somewhere on my mind," he confesses, as he completely melts under your hands.

"You should have said something earlier then, " you scowl at him," but I'm glad you told me now. We talk more about it later, yeah and work things out?"

"I love you," he doesn't know what else to say. He shows you his gratitude for you and your reassurance by kissing you, once, twice and more, until you loose the count of them.

There's still a little uncertainty about this for Aaron, but with you by his side, he knows, it will be okay.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner

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stop-talking · 14 days

Text

Older; not Wiser (pt. 1)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

2.5k words

Tags: 18+, age gap, reader is 20, no use of y/n, smoking, shotgunning, brat tamer Derek, bratty reader, filthy shit, porn that's mostly plot, grinding, clit stimulation, Derek has dirty thoughts, (duh), idk just read it this is mostly buildup to smut

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Derek stumbles into his private study tired, high, and eager to take a break from the party raging in the rest of his mansion. He often retires to this room, as no one is allowed here but himself. Not even the maids.

So why is there a pretty young woman lounging in his recliner?

No, not lounging... you look far too tense for that. In fact, you don't even seem to notice his presence at all until he's towering over you.

"I believe this is my seat, sweetheart." He says, trying to keep his voice firm and suppress a smirk as he takes a hit of his blunt.

You scramble up from the chair immediately, squeaking out a quiet apology.

Ah, so you know who he is. AND you listen. That's good.

Derek chuckles to himself as he plops down in the plush lounge chair, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips.

You apparently don't know what to do yourself after the little evection, simply staring at your feet and tugging on the hem of your dangerously tiny dress.

Fuck, you look good.

"Oh, c'mon. Don't be like that. We can share." Derek pats the armrest of his chair, giving you what he hopes in an inviting smile.

After a few seconds of simply blinking at him in shock, you shyly make your way over and take a seat on the armrest. Your arm hooks around the top of the chair as you get comfortable, but you're careful not to touch him.

Derek can't help but smirk slightly at your timid nature. Is he really that scary? Whatever. He'll take it as a compliment.

"So, does she speak?" He asks after another slow hit of his joint. You look so pretty through the dim smoky haze.

"Not much." You admit, fixing your gaze on your lap in an attempt to avoid eye contact.

Derek looks at your lap too, but quickly has to turn his attention elsewhere. Fuck. That dress really is too short.

"Something tells me you're sober." He teases, waving his blunt in front of you.

That earns him a nod, so he pushes further.

"Want me to fix that, sweet girl? Looks like you need to relax a little."

You pause for a moment, then reach for his blunt. He pulls it away from you with a sharp tsk.

"Not like that. Open up for me, doll."

Your eyes widen with surprise as he brings a hand up to cup your face. He takes a long pull from his joint, enjoying the pretty little look you give him.

When he gently tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb, you obediently open your mouth, leaning down towards him.

His lips meet yours, and he exhales a lungful of hot smoke, depositing it directly into your own mouth. You eagerly take everything he gives you, melting into his touch. He can't help but want to give you more.

"Derek..." You whisper, eyes fluttering open as you stare down at him with a blissed-out look. Oh, that definitely relaxed you.

"Yes, doll?" He has to fight to suppress a smirk as he slowly tucks an arm around your lower back. In a failing attempt to be respectful, he lets his hand rest on your outer thigh, instead of shoving it right between your legs like he truly wants.

"Can you do that again?" You ask sweetly, leaning in a little closer now.

How could he ever say no to you?

"Only if you answer something for me, sweetheart." He practically purrs, gently caressing your cheek with the hand that's still holding the blunt. He's careful not to burn you, as the last thing he'd want to do is mark up that pretty face of yours.

Your neck, though...? No, he shouldn't go there. Not yet.

You hum a response, leaning into the touch and closing your eyes. One of your legs slips down from the armrest, falling on his lap instead.

Whether it's intentionally seductive or simply a sign you're growing more comfortable with him, Derek can't tell. He welcomes the touch either way, tugging you just a little closer with the arm he has around you.

"How'd a pretty girl like you end up all alone at a party, hm? Surely someone out there is missing you."

There. A not-so-subtle question. Is the little trespasser single? Not that it really matters. He'll have you either way.

"Oh, uh... I dunno... I was just feeling overwhelmed, and... well, I've been to parties before, just..."

After a minute of stumbling over your words, Derek waves a hand, cutting you off and putting you out of your misery.

"Just not a Danforth party?" He finishes for you, chuckling.

You flush a bit and nod, clearly embarrassed. Hm. You hadn't exactly answered his question, but, well... If you are in a relationship, it clearly isn't that serious. Not with how you're halfway to sitting on his lap.

"C'mere, sweetheart. You need to relax. It's overwhelming out there, huh?" He speaks softly, pulling you ever-so-slightly closer and giving your thigh a light pat.

Your arms slips around his shoulders in return, and he takes one final pull from his rapidly shrinking blunt in an attempt to hide his smugness. God, you're so damn eager. It's endearing.

After dropping the remnants of his joint in a nearby ashtray, he pulls you down to meet his lips again. You graciously accept his breath, and Derek swears he hears a moan spill from your pretty mouth.

"Feel better?" He asks, cradling your face in his hand.

You stare down at him with pure admiration, inching even closer as your eyes glaze over. The weed is clearly starting to take effect.

"What? You wanna take a seat, sweet girl?" Derek pats his lap, and apparently, that's all the invitation you need.

Before he knows it, you're situated sideways across his legs, with your arm still hooked around his neck.

He lets out a breathy laugh and tucks both his arms around you in return, one around your lower back and one just behind your knees.

Now that you're all up close and personal, he finally gets a good look at you. Fuck, you look young. His heart starts to race for a moment, irrationally fearing the worst. He knows there's a strict 18+ rule for all of his little parties, but still... couldn't hurt to check.

"Just how old are you, doll?"

"Twenty. Why?" You blink at him curiously, making yourself comfortable against his chest.

Shit. Okay. Twenty. That's not... too bad, right? His brow furrows, and he grips your thigh a little tighter as he pulls you close.

You must pick up on his hesitation, because you cup his cheek with your free hand and gently turn his head to look at you.

"Why? How old are you?"

"Take a guess, sweetheart."

Your faces scrunches adorably as you study him, and Derek has to hold in a laugh.

"Like... twenty-five?"

"Hm. You must be higher than I thought." He finally allows himself a small chuckle, taking your hand from his face and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it before lacing your fingers with his.

"That or you're just trying to flatter me."

You flush a bit at the kiss, but don't seem too phased otherwise, giggling softly and avoiding his gaze.

"How old are you, then?"

"I'm twenty-eight, sweetheart. You're practically a baby." Derek lets out an amused huff, squeezing your hand a little tighter as he slumps back in the recliner.

If you're surprised by that realization, you don't let it show. Instead, your free hand finds its way into his hair, lightly tugging at a handful of his curls.

"Yeah? And you practically have one foot in the grave, old man."

Derek should be mad at that. Both at the sudden intimate touch, and your disrespectful words. But looking into your eyes, seeing you smile at him like that? God, it just melts him.

Of course, he isn't quite ready to let you get away with that little quip either, so he gives your exposed thigh a playful smack.

"Play nice, little girl." He growls, returning your sass.

That just gets another giggle out of you. He marvels at how much you've changed from the shy girl he met just minutes ago. Hm. Must be the weed.

"You haven't smoked before, have you?" He muses, voicing his observation. He's sure of it. That light in your eyes. It has to be your first high.

"I mean... not really." You stare down at him with a smile, mindlessly twirling a lock of his hair around your finger.

Alright, that's enough. At this rate, you're gonna make him soft for you.

"Okay, sweetheart. I'm gonna call you a ride home." He huffs in amusement, shifting and reaching into his pocket for his phone.

"What? Why?" You frantically tense your grasp on his hair, giving him a look of genuine hurt.

Ow. Derek grunts, grabbing your hand and gently prying it from his curls.

"I'm not letting you go back out into that party like this, pretty girl. Look at you. Practically naked, and higher than a kite." He playfully tsks at you, running a hand over your exposed thighs for emphasis.

Fuck, you really are one wardrobe malfunction away from exposing yourself. Part of him is tempted to peel back the fabric of your tight little dress and try to catch a glimpse of your panties... if you're even wearing any. He wouldn't be surprised if you'd decided to forgo them.

"Who says I want to go back out into the party?" You start inching up his lap, getting dangerously close to his crotch.

He knows he should probably push you off, call you a ride, and send you home. Maybe give you his phone number, if he's feeling bold. But he doesn't want you to leave. Not when you're so damn fun.

"Woah, woah. Careful, little girl." He gently nudges you back down to his legs, desperately trying to keep you off his awakening dick. It stirs slightly in his pants from the movement, and he tries to discreetly adjust himself with a hand.

"I want to stay here with you." You whisper, giving him a pleading look as you reach to cup his cheek once more.

"No." He says firmly, though his cock is screaming at him to say yes.

"You're too far gone for this, sweetheart. I shouldn't have given you that second puff."

Derek reaches for his phone once more, determined to call you a ride and get you home safely.

Before he can even unlock the damn thing, you snatch it from him, dropping it onto the floor and out of reach. He tries to protest, but his angry growl quickly turns into a moan as you position yourself over his straining cock.

"I. Want. To. Stay."

Derek's nails dig into your thigh in retaliation, and he grits his teeth in a failing attempt to bite back a groan.

"You don't know what you're asking for." He growls, roughly grabbing your jaw and pulling you in closer.

"Then show me."

He does.

Derek kisses you with as much force as he can muster, biting your bottom lip and tugging it down to allow his tongue access to your mouth. He takes over the kiss, trying to swallow you whole.

After a few minutes of oral abuse, you pull away, dazed and panting.

"Too much for you, sweetheart?" He teases, unable to fight back a chuckle.

"No," you pant, "not nearly enough." With that, you reach a hand down and grope at his clothed cock, eyes trained on his own.

Fuck.

Your intentions are now explicitly clear, and Derek can feel his mind and body pulled in two different directions. Logically, he knows this is probably wrong. But his dick doesn't care about logic, and his brain is quick to agree.

He lets out a low growl as you start palming him through his clothes, and finally decides to do something about it. Two can play at that game.

"Oh, you're trouble. Aren't you, little girl?" One hand roughly squeezes your thigh, and the other slips between them, working his way up.

"Hm-hm." You just hum in agreement, melting against his chest and nosing into his hair.

"Yeah? This what you want?" He asks, finally reaching your panties. Fuck, even through the fabric, he can tell you're absolutely soaked.

His thumb traces circles around your clit through your underwear, and the needy little sounds you make only encourage him further.

Derek can't help but think this is a perfect way to spend the evening. He'll sit here and help your rub one out till you cum in those pretty panties, then hold you till you fall asleep on his lap. It'll be a damn good nap, too, considering he'd given you some of his own joint earlier. Good shit.

And then after, well, he'd either call you a cab or have someone fix up a room for you. He wasn't going to let anything happen to his new toy.

"Want more."

Derek is pulled out of his contemplation as you squeeze his cock again, more urgently this time. He hisses a response, trying to stay firm.

"You'll take what I offer, doll." He pulls his hand from between your legs, and lightly smacks your thigh as a warning.

This doesn't seem to go over well with you, as you begin to pout and backtalk him.

"What, scared? Does this old thing even work anymore?" You taunt him with another tantalizing grind of your palm against his dick.

Okay, that's enough of that.

"You wanna test it out, sweetheart?" He growls, harshly grabbing your wrist to put a stop to your little tease game.

"Maybe I do." You giggle, blinking down at him with an false innocence that he might have fell for, had he not just felt how soaked your pussy is.

Christ. You really are trouble. Derek soon finds his hands on your hips, guiding you to straddle his lap. Maybe he could let you ride one out on his thigh. That wouldn't be so bad, right?

Or maybe he'd have to make yet another change to his plans. You start to slide up his lap, and in the blink of an eye, you're pressed right up against his straining cock.

"Look, little girl." He growls at you through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on your hips in an attempt to ground himself.

"I'm not gonna go easy on you."

"Good. I'm not scared."

Derek can feel every gentlemanly urge leaving his body at your words. Well, he had tried the respectful route. His resolve in the face of your teasing should be applauded, truly.

You start to desperately grind against him, and finally, he snaps. You've made it clear what you want from him, and he can't hold back from giving it to you any longer.

He's going to to fuck you absolutely dumb.

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Author's note: I'M SORRY TO LEAVE THIS OFF ON A CLIFFHANGER but I am currently too sleepy to write!! But I want y'all to have SOMETHING, so here's a little treat!!

Part two will 100% be out tomorrow, and it will (probably) be the only additional chapter. This was just supposed to be some quick smut, not a whole series.

(It'll also be from the reader's perspective, this whole scene just felt right in Derek's.)

LOVE YOU GUYS!! HOPE I DIDNT MISS ANYTHING TOO GLARINGLY BAD BECAUSE THIS IS BARELY EDITIED AND IM SLEEP DEPRIVED !!!

#jhutch #josh hutcherson #derek danforth #the beekeeper #derek danforth x reader #jhutch1992 #derek danforth x you #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x y/n

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jae-bummer · 8 months

Text

A Little Air

Request: Hi! I just discovered your account and I wanted to tell you that I LOVE the way you write,I´m kinda embarrassed to ask for this tho- I wanted to ask you if you could do prompt 8 with Bangchan,like someone introduces him to YN and uses thoses lines and then she falls in love or something like that? idk if I explained well,but I would really appreciate if you did this! ♡

Prompt:

8) "He has tired dad energy." "He doesn't have kids." "Still a DILF."

Pairing: Stray Kids Bang Chan x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Parties weren't really your thing.

And that's okay! Parties didn't need to be your thing. You much preferred things that were your thing. Coffee dates, reading books, going out to check the mail to say you saw sunlight that day. All of these were excellent things, and they were yours.

Your best friend, Bee, on the other hand, had very different things, such as parties.

And that's why you had been dragged to this one.

She tried to frame it as an "intimate get together," but upon arriving, you hadn't realized that nearly 40-50 people sharing a space was considered "intimate."

Glaring up at her, you tried to imagine small daggers flying from your pupils and into the side of her cheek. You didn't want to actually harm her, as they were very tiny, inconsequential daggers, but you wanted to have them annoy her, just like you were annoyed.

"You okay?" she hummed, her eyes constantly scanning the room around her. "You look like you have something in your eye."

You did. It was called revenge. "Why am I heeeere?"

"Because you're my best friend and I enjoy your company," she nodded, finally deigning to look your way.

Your expression remained deadpan as she burst into laughter. "What?"

"This is cruel and unusual punishment," you pouted, attempting to cross your arms with your drink still in your hand.

"Oh, come oooon!" she gasped. "It's not so bad! We're in the corner of the room, away from everyone, people watching. You love people watching!"

The bitch had you there.

"Hey, you two!" a familiar voice tugged at your attention. Looking over, a mutual friend was shuffling over.

"Hey, Eunji," you and Bee responded, one of you obviously much more enthusiastic than the other.

"What are you guys doing tucked away over here?" she asked, settling in at your opposite side.

"Reading the room," Bee grinned. "You know a lot of these people better than we do, so I have to ask...who is that?"

"Wasting no time on pleasantries," Eunji laughed. "Getting right into the important stuff, I see."

Motioning with her eyes, you followed Bee's line of sight until you too were looking at her subject of interest. It was not surprising in the least that this guy had snagged her attention. He was occupying one end of a velvet couch, sleepily following the conversation of the two men standing in front of him. Man-spread in an oddly desirable way, he held a drink by the edge of the rim in between his knees, his pose completely relaxed. Dressed from head to toe in black, you were surprised to admit that he made eye bags work. You had never seen someone look so tired and simultaneously hot at the same time.

"His name is Bang Chan," Eunji continued.

"He has tired dad energy," you murmured to no one in particular.

"He doesn't have kids," Eunji snorted, joining you in your ogling.

"Don't care," Bee said, shaking her head. "Still a DILF."

"Oh god," you gasped, immediately turning your attention elsewhere. You had been spotted. He was now looking at the three of you looking at him.

Bee continued to stare, a small smile on her lips. "I think you should talk to him, Y/N."

"I'm sorry, I should what?" you gasped, turning sharply to face your friend.

"Why not?" she asked, tilting her head. "He is very much your type."

"He is very much everyone's type!" you snapped. "Have you seen him?"

"I'm about to see him even better," she grinned. "He's coming this way."

Fuck.

Sure as shit, as soon as you turned your head back in his direction, you saw that he had stood and said his goodbyes to the men he had previously been talking to.

It may have been your imagination, but time seemed to slow as he strolled toward you. The sound of birds chirping and a few "sha la la's" could be heard playing in the distance.

"Excuse me," he said, much more cheerfully than you had anticipated. "I thought I'd come over and introduce myself. My name is Chris."

"Hi, Chris," the three of you chimed, clearly all taken aback.

This caused him to breath in a laugh, exposing you to his devastating smile. A spark danced in his eyes as he looked to each of your friends before settling his attention on you.

"We were just going to grab another drink," Bee interrupted, grabbing hold of Eunji's wrist. "You two want anything?"

"You haven't finished your first drink," you said in an attempt to get your friends to stay. You knew what they were doing, and you didn't appreciate it one bit.

"I want something different," Bee snapped back before shooting an awkward smile at Chan.

Before you could even blink, your friends disappeared into the throng of partygoers. Slowly turning back toward your newest acquaintance, you tried to come up with something thoughtful to say.

"How'd you end up here?" you blurted out instead.

Chan smiled easily again, watching you as if you were entertaining him. "This is my friend's apartment. What about you?"

"I was dragged here by the one who suddenly felt parched," you grumbled.

"Dragged?" he asked, lifting his brows.

"I'm not great at parties," you admitted, looking away from him in embarrassment. "I'm not great at...conversing or the whole...people thing."

"I think you're doing just fine," he cooed, his tone somehow comforting AND seductive. "But I totally understand. It can get to be really overwhelming."

You'd been talking for about twelve seconds, and he got it. Why didn't your friends get it?

"Do you want to get some air?" he asked, seeming to notice how stiff you were. "I have special balcony privileges."

"I'm talking with a VIP then?" you smirked.

"The V-est of the IPs," he grinned. Remaining silent, you realized he was waiting for your answer, not just assuming you wanted to go with him.

Well, that was refreshing. "I wouldn't mind stepping outside for a bit."

"Great," he nodded. Turning away from you, he began walking toward the opposite side of the apartment, parting the sea of people effortlessly. Almost forgetting to follow behind, you were shocked back into reality when he looked over his shoulder and intertwined your fingers in his.

Trying to remind yourself to remain calm, your heart skipped a beat, nonetheless.

You wouldn't normally go anywhere with a strange man you had met at a party, but there was just something about Chan that put you at ease. It was hard to explain, but his whole vibe was soft and comfortable. Like a human version of a hug.

Plus, there were more than enough people here to act as witnesses if he happened to push you off of the balcony.

Guiding you down a hallway and through a bedroom, Chan opened up a set of clear glass doors before stepping outside. As soon as the cold night air hit your face, you felt your body begin to relax.

"It's so quiet out here," you murmured, dropping Chan's hand and moving to stand at his side. You instantly regretted breaking the contact but were much too awkward to act normally if you maintained it.

"It's nice, isn't it?" he hummed, resting his forearms against the railing. "Hyunjin has a lot of these parties. This balcony has become an excellent hide out for when things get to be too much."

"Sounds like you're quite the party animal," you joked, pushing playfully at his shoulder with yours.

"Hardly!" he grinned. "I have a lot of friends, so I know I have some social skills, but I prefer to not be in a party setting. Don't get me wrong, it's fine sometimes, but I'd much rather hang out with people I'm already close with than be forced to meet new people."

Ouch, so much for being a human hug.

Instantly realizing his mistake, Chan jerked his head up and spun toward you. "No, no, no, no," he repeated quickly. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, you're lovely. I mean...I should probably just stop talking, shouldn't I?"

Letting out a huffed laugh, it was your turn to lean on the balcony and stare into the city below. "It wasn't personal."

"It really wasn't," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Man, really mucked up that one, didn't I?"

"It did not win you any gold stars."

Throwing himself beside you again, he tilted his face to gaze at you. "Forgive me?"

"Already forgiven," you hummed. Chancing a look his way, you offered a small smile. "It's easy when I hardly know you."

"Very valid point," he nodded. Letting the air settle into silence, it was a few minutes before he finally spoke again. "Would you let me know you?"

"Sorry?" you asked, not sure if you heard him clearly. "Weren't you just saying you didn't like meeting new people?"

"That may be a slight twist on what I said," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "But that was before."

"And now?"

"And now I'm on the balcony with someone who is clearly out of my league and I'm floundering for any type of brownie points," he smiled shyly.

"Out of," you stammered. "Out of your league?"

He started chuckling again. "You're doing a great job at repeating things I've said."

Shaking your head, you tried to work out his meaning. "Like you're doing charity work?"

"Whoa," he breathed, furrowing his brows. "No, like you're likely too good for me."

"I think..." you paused, the information slowly seeping into your understanding. Did he really think that? "Someone hit you on the head very hard and you aren't thinking straight."

This caused Chan to choke out a surprised laugh. "Come oooon. You know who is the attractive one on this balcony."

"Pfft," you snorted. "Sure, Chris."

A shiver rippled across your shoulders, causing you to wrap your arms around yourself. What had once been an energizing chill had turned much cooler as the night stretched on.

Noticing this, Chan cocked a brow before he began biting his lip. Your eyes immediately zeroed in on the motion, trying to remember to breathe through something so simply sexy.

"Do you mind if I-" he began, motioning with his arms.

You weren't exactly sure what he was getting at, but at this point, he could likely do whatever he wanted with you, and you'd still thank him for the opportunity. Giving a weak nod, you were surprised when he pivoted you to face the city again and wrapped his arms around you. Bracing his hands on the balcony railing, he sandwiched you in between the metal and the front of his torso.

Sure, you were immediately warmed by his close proximity, but you were also that much closer to passing out. Being in this range, he was even more intoxicating than he had been before.

"Better?" he cooed; his breath heavy in your ear.

"Much," you squeaked, trying to remain calm.

Resting his chin on your shoulder, he let out a light sigh. "You never answered me."

Suddenly every question he had asked tonight flew from your brain. "What did you ask?"

"Would you let me know you?"

You thought you were going to swallow your tongue. "I'd like you to."

"Good," he cooed. "I look forward to it then."

Man, you'd have to send Bee an edible arrangement after this. Who knew you'd like parties after all?

#stray kids #skz #bang chan #bahng chahn #christopher bang #stray kids chan #stray kids bang chan #skz chan #skz bang chan #chris bang #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan fanfic #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic

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beloved-blaiddyd · 27 days

Note

I LOVEEEE DOG GALLIGAR I NEED MORE

please read the rules and regulations next time anon cuz I'll ignore asks that don't follow format. Anyways I'm a big gallagher simp so I can't ignore a humble request. here's a quick sketch of farmer!reader and (yandere utc) dog!gallagher + extra brainrots cooked up 1 AM cuz I just finished a school output

Domestic Fluff/Crack:

You rarely buy chocolate after taking Gallagher in. Not because you're worried that the canine might randomly eat some and get a "lethal" dose— but because he simply looks disgruntled whenever you take a bite. He went on quite a long tangent about how it doesn't taste that great and you would much rather not hear it a second time.

In your first week together, you might've gone overboard and bought every dog care product you could think off. Gallagher heartily laughed when he saw you bought one of every shampoo— and then his heart dropped when you pulled out a pet razor next in the shopping bag. Needless to say, his silence saved his skin. Or well, in this case, fur.

You often pondered over the ethics of having a half-human in your home. It's not that you treat him poorly or bar him from opportunities elsewhere, but you remind him from time to time that he can leave the farm if he wants to. In which, he would either a) put a hand on your shoulder and earnestly decline or b) joke about how he's going to bite you if you ask again.

Speaking of jokes, he never tells you about his past— which was a decision you respected. However, it's become an inside joke for the two of you to make up his backstory and how you met. When your traveler friend Boothill once came to visit, you both told him that Gallagher was actually an ex-police dog who decided he's tired of snitching where the drugs were when "it's always hidden in cushions anyways". When the local innkeeper Siobhan asked where did he come from, he said he was once a bartender— and you made a convincing follow-up that it was the reason behind his distaste for SoulGlad. He even shocked everyone when he had the skills to back that lie up. You swear that every time, the story and people's reactions become more and more priceless.

Yandere:

But not everyone is elusive of his true nature.

That's why he hates whenever your neighbor "Sunday" visits.

Gallagher doesn't want it to happen, but that man seems to always discern the facade he's putting on. He doesn't like it at all. He always had to hold back a sharp stare and a growl whenever he's around. But that man. That hawk...

Why does he always cling to you like a pest?

He knows- he knows you're friends with him and that Robin girl since childhood- but shouldn't those numerous interactions suffice? Why does HE keep stealing your time together? That Sunday is a hybrid himself— he should know that someone has already marked this household territory.

Still, that bird perches on your porch, greeting you with a smile that you'll reciprocate. But the cunning glimpses he sends Gallagher indicates that they equally find the other person bothersome.

"What're you doing here?" Gallagher scoffed. "Don't you have a Family to go back to?"

Sunday smiled politely, though with how his hands are always hidden from the dog's view, he can only guess that it's clenched in a tight fist.

"And you don't?"

"(Y/n) is my Family."

"Before they were yours, they were mine."

That caught Gallagher's attention.

... Isn't that technically the truth? Even without papers, isn't the bond you, Robin, and that fiend share essentially a strong familial bond? He had only heard snippets in town and from yourself, but you three had known each other almost since birth.

So... What does that make him?

A pet?

A hound?

A friend?

A partner?

Or a mere passing memory?

Despite these thoughts, he steeled his resolve and shook his head, subconsciously holding his neck. There's no collar. Nothing that physically binds him to you. And, for reasons he didn't quite placed at the time, he hated the sensation of freedom.

He hated being free.

He hated being detached from you.

"With what to prove, huh?" Gallagher snarled. "Leave. They're asleep. Don't bother them today— or ever again."

He volunteered to patrol for the next nights to hide his insomnia. Gallagher did not understand where most these emotions stemmed from. Why would he wish to be shackled when he just got himself out or a cage? You were kind enough to supply him with basic necessities and allow him to do whatever he wants after work is done— so why this emptiness?

But when he came back home at dawn after unlocking the door with the spare key you gave him— he got his answer.

He felt his feet drag him to your door. Before he could even process what was happening, Gallagher was seated at a nearby chair, tenderly caressing your face.

This was the answer he was looking for. The raison d'etre. All resolved under three words:

"You... I want you."

And for a while, that was enough.

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luimagines · 4 months

Note

Not sure if this has been asked already but scenario with the chain where reader is asleep but randomly calls out Link/one of the boy’s name. Would the guys think it’s cute or be embarrassed wondering what reader is dreaming about?

Oh this one is good!!! XD Let's see what I come up with.

Masterlist

Part one will include Warrior, Sky and Wind.

Content under the cut!

Warrior

Warrior had taken the fourth shift of the night. It was early. By the time his shift would be over the sun would be coming up. He hopes that he'll fall asleep fast enough to catch the last two hours of the night before they set up to leave the for the day.

He yawns and shakes himself awake. He's so tired. But a job has to be done.

You turn over in your sleep. The movement catches his eye and he smiles subconsciously. You're adorable. Your hair is messy from your sleep and your hands are curled by your face. You looks peaceful.

Warrior sighs and runs his hands through his hair. He's being creepy, watching you while you sleep. He needs to get a grip and look elsewhere. His only consolation is that you're asleep and so is everyone else. So no one can call him out on this.

"Mmm..." You grunt and hide your face with your arm. "...Link..."

Warrior sits up straighter in an instant. Well, nevermind. All forethought is thrown out the window. He's no longer going to hide that he's watching you.

He tilts his head and leans close to you. Who are you thinking of? It can be any number of them. It tells him so much and yet so little.

No, no, no, no- He's looking away. He's ignoring it. He's not going to get his hopes up. What hopes? That you're dreaming about him? Weird. Besides- no one said it was a good thing. He's not going to pay attention, he swears it.

"...Captain..."

Warrior curses in his head and winces. He's afraid to even breathe. If he so much as makes any noise it might wake you up.

He starts frantically bouncing his knee, looking the other way with his fist in his cheek. He has so many questions. He wants to be nosey and ask and wake you but that would be literally the worst thing he could do in this moment.

His mind starts to run with the idea of what you could be dreaming of. Is a good dream? He hopes it's a good dream. He would feel horrible if you were thinking of him in a negative light. (A small voice tells him, that logically, it could be a dream with him in it. It doesn't have to be about him. He ignores it.)

You makes another small grunt and turn around again, pulling the blankets over your head.

Warrior curses under his breath, feeling his blood rush through his body. He needs to get his mind and body under control. It wouldn't do anyone any good for him to be out of his mind throughout the next day.

He can kiss goodbye the thought of sleeping again after this. Warrior whines in the back of his throat, wondering how on earth something so innocent so go far into the gutter so quickly.

It's not fair! How on earth is he going to look you in the eye tomorrow? It's not like you're aware of this!

Warrior takes in a shaky breath and picks up his sword. He can do one last perimeter check before he has to wake up Wild for the last shift. That should help, right?

It doesn't.

Sky

He was so tired.

You both had been traveling in this dungeon for what felt like eons. With little progress to show for it, Sky called it about time that you both took a break.

He thought he was going to fall asleep any second, but it seems like you beat him to the punch.

Sky watched over you, keeping his sword out just in case any monster decided to break their walk pattern and walk in on the two of you. His head is lulling to the side with the need to keep watch over you, he finds himself unable to sleep.

You roll over and sigh. Sky sighs with you, letting a small smile grace his face. He understands. Even in your sleep, you're still frustrated with this situation.

"....Link..."

He sits up straighter.

"Yes?" Sky tilts his head and waits for you to respond. Were you awake already? Did you need something?

You don't reply.

You were talking in your sleep, he realizes. Which should have been a more comforting thought- had you not said his name. But that begs the questions, doesn't it? Are you talking to him? Or one of the others?

Sky can feel a blush slowly take over his face. He looks away from you. It's probably someone else. What would be the odds that you were calling out to him in your dream? There's a lot of Links these days. No need for him to get his hopes up, rig-?

"Sky... Please..."

Sky covers half of his face with his hand. He accidentally drops the sword.

Oh, it's him. You're dreaming about him. You're talking to him in your dreams.

All sense of fatigue leaves him in an instant. Spurred on by embarrassment and endearment, he feels as it he could take on this whole dungeon- just to avoid the emotional conversation he would no doubt have with himself in regards to this.

By Hylia, why do you talk in your sleep? Have you always talked in your sleep?

Do you always dream about him?

He hopes it's a good dream at least.

Wind

Wind was bored. And so were you. Enough so that you fell asleep on his shoulder.

Wind felt bad. He didn't want to wake you up, but he also didn't want you to get caught for falling asleep during the very important briefing that did not have to be so early in the morning.

He sighed and tucked you closer to him, wrapping his arm around you. He pats your head and rests his head against yours.

He huffs and puffs and closes his eyes, trying to not fall asleep either.

It's hard. He can hear Time and Warrior sharing ideas in the background about their next moves and how they would try to split the group up into the traveling groups, with quiet input from Twilight and Sky every now and then. It's boring stuff.

He starts to feel himself nod off before you shift from under him.

Wind blinks his eyes open and looks down to you. No, you're still sleeping. Maybe you're uncomfortable? He shifts you again, laying you back against the wall, trying to cushion your head as much as he can.

"Nn... Link..." You mutter, not once opening your eyes.

Wind freezes and waits to see if you'll wake up. His heart starts pounding. It feels weird, hearing his name after so long. He pokes your forehead and waits.

You don't wake up.

Wind lets out a breath and tries to reorient himself against you and get comfy again. He's so sleepy. A little cat nap wouldn't be too bad right?

"Wind..." You whisper and Wind can feel himself be jolted awake once more. "...Pirate..."

Wind tilts his head and watches you for a moment. You frown in your sleep and turn your head away. A nightmare?

Wind won't chance it.

He shakes you by the shoulder and doesn't stop until you wake up. "Hey."

You take a startled breath and look around. "Wha- Huh? Where am I?"

"Oh good." Time calls out. "We need your opinion on this. Come here."

You nod and rub your eyes, standing without missing a beat. You pat Wind on the head and yawn. Wind frowns some more as he watches you engage with the group, it's almost as if you weren't asleep at all. You slip into the conversation easily.

What were you dreaming about? Why did you call out to him?

Wind is nervous to ask.

Part 2

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu x reader #linked universe x reader

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futbol16 · 10 months

Text

Tell Them Your Truth • Alexia Putellas & Claudia Pina

Request: Love your writing! Could you maybe write another part to Soccer Moms? I know the Barca team has mentioned that Claudia gets sick a lot, so maybe something with Reader and Alexia having to care for her and she doesn't want to be a burden or them finding out she's not feeling well during practice but she tries to continue anyways. Also, if you want to, could you maybe add Aitana as a sister, I feel like she'd fit in well (but if you don't want to, you don't have to). Also, sorry this is so long!

Word count: 3,9k (starting to realize that I enjoy these just as much as you do:)

Claudia lifts a spare shirt to her mouth as she tries to quietly clear her throat. Her eyes are alert as she peeks over the material, looking around as subtly as possible to see if anyone had noticed her. When no one bats an eye at her actions, she lowers the shirt from her mouth and with the same movement she shoves it back into her backpack.

She leans back in her cubby as she listens to the girls goof around before practice, but for once she doesn’t join them. Far too out of it to even think about such things.

This has been going on for a couple of days now, her state only worsening to the point that she now felt tired even before starting warm ups.

“You coming, Pina?” her head shoots up at the sound of her name and she shoots Patri a questioning look. It’s only when she receives an equally confused look does she glance around the changing room, now noticing that most of the girls have headed out to the pitch.

“Uh yeah yeah” she nods, slowly coming to her senses. Patri eyes her with curiosity but the short girl dismisses her concern with a wave of her hand, opting to just follow behind her friend.

Claudia clears her throat again as her and Patri walk out. The sun seems too bright as it hits her right in the eye and she almost groans aloud, wanting nothing more than to go back home and curl up under her blanket.

Patri turns at the noise but finds Pina looking down at her boots and she shrugs at her friend’s behavior. Maybe she just wasn’t having the best of days.

With that thought Patri throws an arm around Claudia’s shoulders who’s taken aback by the sudden movement and she suddenly feels dizzy, not that she’d tell anyone.

“Partners like usual?” she merely nods at the question, too busy with trying to come back to life.

Even though her legs feel like bricks and she’s craving something hot to soothe her sore throat, the forward forces herself to act like she’s having the best time at practice.

She almost lets a tear slip in relief when the end of training is called. She lets herself sit on the grass and breathe a heavy breath through her congested nose. The brunette lifts her gaze back onto her teammates, but when she notices you looking her way she instantly turns her attention elsewhere.

Just as you start to walk towards her the girl quickly jumps up to her feet and clings onto Aitana’s arm who had been walking by. A muddled expression flashes across your face but you turn back to Alexia as she gives your hand a squeeze.

Aitana however, looks at Claudia in a mix of surprise and bewilderment.

“Are you okay?” she timidly asks, not sure why her friend has been so quick to stick to her side. Claudia rapidly nods her head at the question, guiding Aitana towards the locker room. The midfielder takes notice of the slight redness of her eyes but decides against commenting on it. The two continue their way towards their stuff as they exchange a few words but Aitana quickly gets the impression that her friend is a bit too tired to continue any means of communication.

By the time you and Alexia enter the changing room, having had to stay back for some coach-to-captains talk with Jonatan, most of your teammates have already left.

Only a few have hung back to bid their goodbyes and as you hug Mapi one last time, you notice another person still sitting by their locker. You motion to her when your girlfriend’s eyes connect with yours and Alexia approaches her.

“Pinita?” she calls her name out softly as she crouches in front of the girl and Claudia hums at her in question, resting her head against the wood.

“Is everything okay bebé?” the question makes her sit up straighter as if she just realized something and Claudia rubs her eyes as she slings the strap of her backpack over her shoulder.

“Sí, all good. I just didn’t sleep well last night so I’m a little tired.” she makes up the excuse on the spot and before either of you can open your mouths to interject, she presses a quick kiss to both of yours and Alexia’s cheek and she bolts out the door.

The two of you stare at the now closed door, wondering what had gotten into the young forward. Slowly turning to the brunette by your side you raise your eyebrows.

“That wasn’t weird at all.” your comment earns you a soft chuckle from Alexia.

“She’s just tired.” she wraps an arm around your waist as she pulls you into her body. “Speaking of tired, you wanna go home and cuddle up on the couch with Nala?” her voice is sweet and there’s a twinkle in her eyes as she gazes into yours that makes it impossible for you to not pull her down for a kiss.

“Sí mi amor, siempre.”

Meanwhile you and Alexia gather the last of your things in the changing room, Aitana is just about to get in her car when she hears someone sneeze. She stops halfway through opening the car door and she glances around her with her eyebrows furrowed. She had thought she was the only one here. Her eyes zero in on the ponytail sticking out above a car near her and she sneaks closer.

“Don’t tell me you’re sick again!” her voice startles Pina who lets out a loud shriek in return before she’s cut off by another sneeze. She taps at her pockets in search of something but Aitana hands her a tissue without a word.

“Thanks.” the forward sniffles and then blows her nose out, cutting off Aitana who was about to speak again. Aitana watches on as her friend fills the tissue, a repelled look on her face.

“Yeah, get it all out I suppose” she mutters, stuffing another tissue into Claudia’s pocket as she finally finishes.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Are you sick again?” Her silence speaks volumes and the ‘are you kidding me’ look on Aitana’s face isn’t helping her feel better.

“I swear it’s not my fault-”

“Claudia you were sick like two weeks ago too!” she throws her arms up in frustration, frustration which roots from her worry for the brunette.

“Okay but…” Aitana raises an eyebrow, waiting for whatever excuse the young player had for now.

“Nevermind, I don’t have anything.” Claudia shrugs nonchalantly before sniffing again. With the mother-like pose that Aitana is supporting with her hands on her hips and a disapproving look in her eyes, Pina knows what’s coming next. This time Aitana is cut off by her voice rather than her blowing her nose out.

“Please please don’t tell mi mamás, I don’t want to miss training and I don’t want to annoy them with this again. Pleasee!” her please catch Aitana off guard whose expression softens when Claudia reveals how she feels.

“You think you’d annoy Y/N/N and Ale?” her disbelieving tone makes Claudia huff out a breath through her nose.

“I don’t want to worry them. They smothered me with care last time and constantly came over to bring me soup and tuck me into bed and check my fever and-” she lets out a sigh. “You get it”

“So why not just tell them you don’t want that?” Aitana is utterly confused as to why the forward thought this was such a complicated situation.

“But I do want it!” Claudia all but whines, arms crossing over her chest in a defensive manner. Clearly her sickness had gotten her in a mood.

“Okay, I don’t get it”

“If they know about this then they’ll worry about me-”

“Is that not a good thing?” Pina gives Aitana a look for being cut off.

“No, because it means they will spend their time worrying about me instead of being at training and getting ready for our next game. I don’t want them to pause their lives to take care of me” she finally admits and this time Aitana pulls her into a comforting hug, now understanding why this was such a difficult and overwhelming situation for Claudia.

“Wait actually, you’ll get me sick too” she pulls away from her and Aitana smiles when Claudia snorts at her antics.

“But I understand now and I won’t tell them, even though they’re our captains and you probably should” she gives Pina one last look, waiting for her to change her mind but the brunette doesn’t budge. “Well, if that’s what you really want” she shrugs as she gives in to Claudia who thanks her profusely.

“Butttt, get some sleep today and take some coughing meds”

“Sí claro. Gracias Tana!” Pina shouts after her friend who waves her off as she finally gets in her car.

The next day at training begins similarly for the young forward and she tiredly trudges into the locker room before letting her bag fall onto the bench with a loud thump. This time, many of the girls eye her with curiosity but Pina pays them no mind, the throbbing in her head far too painful to care.

She’s just about finished getting ready and is tying her boots when someone sits next to her and leans down to her level with their hand situated on her back.

“If you don’t want the whole team to know before you could tell Ale and Y/N/N, then stop sniffling and blow your nose out.” Aitana whispers to her and she pushes a tissue into her hand.

Claudia glances up alarmed but when she notices that the two of you aren’t here yet, she calms herself down and excuses herself to the bathroom to blow her nose out. That way no one would hear just how congested she is and no one would tell on her.

When she re-enters the room she finds that the team’s captains have finally arrived, or more so just made their presences known because you’re both already dressed in your training kits and comfortably talking to Mapi and Ingrid.

Claudia watches the two of you from her seat across you and her eyes wander over your form before she spots your hand on Alexia’s thigh. She watches as you rub soothing circles into the skin of your girlfriend’s thigh and how in return, the midfielder scoots closer to you and leans her head on your shoulder.

She lets out a quiet sigh without knowing, wishing that she would also be receiving such comforting embraces, especially now that she feels under the weather.

For a second she genuinely considers walking over and plopping herself in between you and Alexia, but then she remembers that she’s trying to keep a secret from you.

Alexia feels the young girl staring and she squeezes the hand that’s on her thigh to gain your attention.

“Pinita is staring at us” she whispers to you so as to not alert anyone else. “And I’m not sure if I’m seeing right, but are her eyes red to you too?” upon hearing her concerned voice you instantly turn towards the young brunette and your eyes scan over her clearly tired expression. Pina’s eyes connect with yours and she lowers her head to turn back to tying her boots, only to find that they’re already tied.

“Maybe she had another bad night?” it’s a valid suggestion from your part since it is the excuse Claudia had made yesterday. Even though Alexia can hear the uncertainty in your voice and she’s just as unsure, she nods at your words.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Minutes later when the team finally start their way towards the pitch, Claudia is quick to run after Aitana and Patri before Alexia can greet her with a hug.

The bewilderment in her eyes as she joins you again, makes you knit your brows together.

“Is it just me or is she avoiding us?” Alexia voices her thoughts as she turns to you, a sad smile resting on her face.

“Thought I was imagining things.” you confirm with the same expression and you press a small kiss to her cheek hoping to calm her racing thoughts.

With the way Claudia has been behaving, Alexia keeps a close eye on the brunette the whole time during warm ups, so much so that you have to nudge her out of her staring contest with the back of Pina’s head.

The team is almost halfway through practice, doing running drills when you hear a small sneeze behind you. Beyond being confused at the sound you abruptly turn around only to find Patri, Aitana, and Pina all staring at you with wide eyes.

“Who was that?”

“Who was what?” Patri tries to outsmart you, having picked up on Pina’s state.

“The sneeze. Who sneezed?” you narrow your eyes at one of them in particular and Claudia lowers her slightly bloodshot eyes. She stays silent knowing that if she were to open her mouth you would hear her nasally voice.

“Me! Me, it was me.” Aitana’s words are accompanied by nods and she wipes at her nose for good measure, utilizing all of her acting skills in front of you.

You're not very convinced but you ignore your worry for the moment, choosing to instead focus on the drill when it is your turn. You don’t hear the breath of relief behind you, or Pina thanking Aitana for covering for her and you certainly don’t see the knowing look Patri gives her best friend.

Pina steers clear of you after that, and Alexia, and basically everyone in order to keep up her act.

When Jonatan calls for a scrimmage she knows practice is almost over and she relaxes a bit at the thought of not having to pretend for much longer.

She ends up on your team and while normally she would be hanging off your neck in happiness, she only trudges over to your side in silence.

Alexia watches from the other side of the pitch and by now she is beyond concerned for Claudia.

The scrimmage is going well with your team two goals ahead of Alexia’s, you make sure to rub it in her face, only playfully of course. And truly all is good when Pina sends another cross your way and you control the ball as you try to outsmart Cata.

Claudia’s feet come to a stop as she rapidly breathes in only to then hunch over and break out in a coughing fit. Her eyes prick with tears as her sore throat is abused by the loud coughs that rake through her body and she is barely able to get in a breath before she’s coughing again.

Aitana’s eyes are instantly on the forward and she quickly walks over to stand in front of her friend, still trying to cover for her.

The noise however catches everyone’s attention, except yours because you’re too busy scoring a goal and hearing your own heavy breathing to hear Pina way behind you.

Alexia’s mom mode is immediately activated and she runs over to Claudia without a second thought. She places a comforting hand on her back and pats her gently to help clear Pina’s throat. When Pina is finished, she inhales a sharp deep breath and straightens up, coming face to face with her captain.

“Sit down Claudia” Alexia orders firmly, but the worry shines through her voice. Pina follows her instructions though and when a bottle is pushed into her hands she eagerly chugs it down.

By now you have also turned around and when you see half the team standing near something, you furrow your brows. Deciding it’s best to see what was up you abandon celebrating your goal and instead run back to where you can see Alexia towering over the others.

“What happened?” you ask breathlessly, eyes searching your girlfriend’s for answers. She gestures to Claudia on the ground and you drop down to your knees next to the girl.

Your eyes rake over her form, searching for any injuries but when you don’t find any you glance back up at Alexia.

“She’s sick and has a coughing fit. And by the sounds of it she didn’t get sick last night.” Alexia places a gentle hand on Pina’s head and she carefully sweeps the baby hairs out of the girl’s eyes.

Your expression morphs into worry, confusion, and then a slightly hurt look as you turn to Claudia.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” you don’t receive a verbal answer, only a guilty look and you sigh, instead raising the bottle back to her mouth and urging her to drink more. With one last look at the girl you stand back up, giving Alexia’s shoulder a squeeze and then you stand by to explain the situation to Jonatan.

He agrees to call the end of practice a few minutes early and tells the rest of the girls to stretch and cool down, allowing the three of you to head inside to check out Pina.

You remain silent on the walk to the changing room and Pina glances up at you every now and then but she stays firmly tucked into Alexia’s side, allowing herself to soak up the affection she’s been missing out on.

“Go ahead and get changed, I’ll get the stuff from the medics.” you inform Alexia and she nods at you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before letting you go. She guides the young forward into the changing room and sits her down in her cubby, draping one of your hoodies over the brunette.

“Pinita” Alexia sits next to her with a small sigh, pulling her to lean into her.

“When did all of this happen? You were sick just the other week”

“I know, I know. I left the air conditioning running after I got home from training and…I guess sitting under it while still hot and sweaty- it wasn’t the best idea.” she admits regretfully and her captain chuckles along.

“Well, at least you know now.” just as Claudia thinks she’s off the hook Alexia continues.

“But it wasn’t smart of you to continue training while you were clearly sick. This could’ve ended way worse Pina, you could’ve caused yourself serious stuff” she seemingly can’t find the right words, her mind once again consumed with fret.

The forward nods into her shoulder, wearing a guilty expression. Alexia lifts a hand to her forehead and Claudia jerks back at the coldness of it.

“You even have a fever, Pina!” she shrinks back at the tone of her voice.

“Why didn’t you tell us, or someone?” the midfielder questions further.

“I told Aitana, well technically she found out. But I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Pinita bebé, we’re always going to worry about you, no matter what.” Alexia tells her softly, rubbing the girl's shoulder.

“Sí, but I knew you would abandon everything else to take care of me. You would’ve missed training then and then maybe even a game.” she explains her reasoning and Alexia sighs.

“I would’ve rather missed a game than have you rip your lungs open in a coughing fit.” your voice rings out and it startles Claudia who hasn’t been paying attention to the door.

Your hands are full with what she could only assume were coughing syrups and other tablets and medicine for her. Suddenly she feels even worse for lying - or well keeping this from the two of you.

“It wasn’t that serious-” she stops talking as you dump everything next to her and you move to take her temperature.

“It could’ve been.” you ignore the look you receive from your girlfriend but you do get the hint and with a deep breath in, you allow your softness to take over you.

“Querida, this isn’t something to joke about. You should’ve told Ale and I about how you were feeling, amor. We could’ve stopped it from getting worse.” you stroke her cheek as you look at the number on the machine, shaking your head when you see just how high her temperature is. Claudia melts into your touch and sinks even further into your girlfriend’s hold.

“I didn’t want to be a burden.” she mumbles out as her eyes gloss over. Your movements halt at the hearing of her statement and you glance up at Alexia almost as if waiting for confirmation that you’ve really heard what you heard.

The midfielder tightens her hold on Pina.

“You’re far from being a burden Pinita, so far from it.” she mutters into Claudia’s hair. You crouch down in front of her and take her hands into your own, your thumbs running over her knuckles in a soothing manner.

“Worrying about you, taking care of you isn’t a chore, mi vida. We do it because we love you. Don’t ever think of it differently.” you tell her sincerely, your voice soft and comforting. Claudia nods at the two of you and she lets a tear fall before she physically lets herself fall into your arms, pulling Alexia with her.

The three of you stay in a tight embrace kneeling slightly uncomfortably on the floor of the locker room, but you and Alexia wouldn’t have it any other way if it meant Claudia felt safe.

“Thank you” she whispers as her grip on your shirts loosen. Alexia smiles at her and kisses her head in a motherly manner while you slightly pull back from the two.

“Okay, enough of this now, I can’t go another second knowing you’re sick and not do anything about it.” the laughs you receive instantly lightens the atmosphere and you offer a hand to each of your girls and pull them up to their feet.

“Drink some of this and then we can go home and cuddle up” you push the coughing syrup into Pina’s hand who pulls a face at it but quickly nods at your words, her mind already wandering to what movie the three of you could watch.

“I’ll make soup for you, bebé.” Alexia states and you smile at your girlfriend's enthusiasm to take care of your sick teammate.

Your arms wrap themselves around her as Claudia gathers her things and you press a lingering kiss to the underside of her jaw. Alexia’s eyes shine with adoration as she gazes down at you and just as she’s about to kiss you, you’re interrupted by Pina clearing her throat.

She gives the two of you a sheepish look.

“Can Aitana join us?” she fiddles with the strap of her backpack and your heart melts at her cuteness.

“Sure, go get her.” Alexia smiles at Pina without moving from your embrace and you watch as the forward skips out of the changing room.

Later that evening, the three of you are all mushed together on the couch of the living room, Aitana and Patri squished onto the sofa chair as they share a bowl of popcorn, eyes intently watching the movie playing in front of you all.

As Claudia glances around, she relishes in the comfort and warmth that she feels, her throat feels a lot better thanks to the amount of syrup you had forced her to take, plus Alexia’s soup. Just before her eyes slip closed, she thinks that perhaps next time it wouldn’t be a bad idea to tell the two of you about her being sick, especially if it resulted in such movie nights.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #futbol16 #alexia putellas x reader #claudia pina x reader

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calisources · 1 month

Text

𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒, 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐏𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences were taken from difference media about age gap and age difference relationships, all acceptable relationships within consenting adults with age differences. Please do not use for teenagers or taboo relationships. These have some foul language or suggestive undertones so please beware. You can change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.

I bet it doesn’t feel like this with that boy of yours, does it?

You’ll never know when I’m going to drag you into the darkness, pumping my cock into one of your tight holes. And you’ll take every inch like a good little girl.

What a tiny life we’d live if we fashioned ourselves to the comforts of others.

I think I'm a little old for that, love.

No, not old. But you're, you know, a man.

Tell me that you've never had anyone else. I want you to pretend.

You show me things I've forgotten.

Sometimes I think you must have seen it all before. That I can't show you anything new.

I like you as you are, he said. Even if you're going to wear me out.

I’m rough with your body sometimes, but I’ll always be gentle with your soul. She bruises far more easily.

This prince is a few years younger than you, and does not have much experience.

I must have forgotten how young you would be, Princess. Has there ever been a sovereign of such tender age?

Who is to say what love is or what it wants to be, the shape it takes, or how quickly it comes on? Love has always made a fool of time.

I don’t feel old. As a matter of fact, sitting here with you makes me feel older, not younger. Nothing is rubbing off.

Mr. Rochester was about forty, and this governess not twenty; and you see, when gentlemen of his age fall in love with girls, they are often like as if they were bewitched.

He's old enough to be your father.

Tonks deserves somebody young and whole.

But she wants you. And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so.

Age is no barrier. It's a limitation you put on your mind.

Age considers; youth ventures.

Age, like distance lends a double charm.

I'm a strong believer that a good relationship can work, whatever the situation.

Love knows no boundaries, not even the ones defined by age.

Don’t let society’s judgment define your love. Follow your heart, despite the age difference.

Most people would be upset they get an old man as their husband.

Do not worry about your age, Ser. The lady pays attention not to age but prowess.

I will not let time choose my lovers for me. I trust my own judgement.

You should look to more prosperous gardens, Your Grace.

I was sixteen years old when you were born.

No doubt you were much my superior in judgement at that period of our lives; but does not the lapse of one-and-twenty years bring our understandings a good deal nearer?

Come, my dear Emma, let us be friends, and say no more about it.

I have seldom seen a face or figure more pleasing to me than hers. But I am a partial old friend.

If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.

We spend more time discussing this matter than being together as a couple. And I believe you are doing it on purpose.

You think my attention is as fickle that I would look elsewhere.

Perhaps it would be you who looks elsewhere. A handsome older man must have youthful maidens at his disposal.

If we were closer in age, it would've been fine.

I have loved you since the moment I helped you with your zipper.

Would it make you feel better if I call you Daddy while you fuck me?

You’ll be a silver fox before 40 at this rate.

Well, it’s definitely your fault. You stress me out. You’re making my hair turn white.

It’s easy to cast opinions when your heart isn’t the one invested.

I hope you love me, because I love you like crazy, and I'm going to want you the rest of my life.

You already know the truth. And I will be by your side, but I am not good for you.

I am tired of others getting to choose who is good for me. You do that quite often, frequently.

You'll keep your name. You'll keep your will. You'll have your own servants to attend you— you will have everything you ask for.

Don't ask me to let you do. Do you understand? Do not ask me.

It might be best for us, for myself, if I found myself useful elsewhere.

I wish you could just slow down so I could catch up to you.

Stamina is not an issue. But rather what others will whisper.

When are you going to get over this? All I did was touch your leg.

Why would it matter if someone saw you saying hello to me?

But it’s nice to be around you. Like I haven’t lost a decade of my life.

I been in love with you since I was six, fool.

I will always belong to you, but I’m afraid there will be others after me. I’m not a young man/woman.

A kiss ... a muse. It is a question, an unlocked door. It is ... elation ... and anguish.

You have treated me better than any young man my age. Why should I go for either of them?

Young men are eager lovers. I prefer my lovers to take their time. I’m sure with men is the same.

You make me feel really safe. i’m not used to that.

You gave an old man purpose again. And that is more than I can ask of you.

I was a child then, with a crush and a dream. As I grew, dreams changed but you remain the one in my dreams.

I have thought about kissing you a lot. What would that make me?

I have more in common with you than men my age.

Do not pretend to think what I think.

More recently, there are rumors she prefers her lovers to be younger. Truth to be told, I don’t blame her.

I will teach you in time, but for now restrain me and have your way with me. I don’t want to think, I just want to feel.

We have never done anything to be ashamed of. You’ve never done anything to be ashamed of.

Personally, I think the difference keeps us interesting in another another.

You can teach me all you wish, and I can learn. I know I can.

There is always a wild side to an innocent face.

You are being too forward right now, my lady. Be careful.

There would be other loves. Even great loves. But she was right, only one remained perfect.

Maybe there are some people you marry and people you love.

Just so you know, you're a natural lover. Your body expresses beautifully what's in your heart.

I have never felt so alive... as when I am in your arms.

A 5 to 7 relationship is a relationship outside of marriage.

You're older than I am, you're wiser I'm sure and you've seen much more of the world.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #age gap meme #age difference meme

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takenbypeter · 11 months

Text

Anything To Make You Smile

Bucky Barnes x reader

Words: 903

Authors note: so many people requested a part two to this Anything to make him smile, and I think I might have to make a part 3, also idk if there is a sword for this there is

Here Bucky and Sam were, back at the S.W.O.R.D. headquarters. And despite Bucky telling them he was done with this sort of thing he still found himself constantly being pulled back again. Thankfully they were just finishing up a mission report this time.

He didn’t enjoy coming to headquarters, too many people, too many looks despite them already knowing who he was.

But it wasn’t all bad.

“And that’s when AJ and Cass got caught, right in the middle of everything,” Sam said laughing at his own story about his nephews while eating one of the free breakfast bars from the break room.

Bucky’s head was faced in Sam’s direction but his eyes were focused past Sam, and on you. You were outside the door just across the hallway perched at the water cooler.

Now Bucky and you have reached some sort of understanding over the past few months, you would greet each other with smiles, genuine ones now, and sure you’d make small talk here and there nothing big, but today?Today you seemed out of it.

I mean this wasn’t the first time he’s seen you today, he walked by you when he first got there and he expected some sort of greeting but you kept your eyes down, mind seemingly elsewhere.

Even here at the cooler you looked distracted. Now, typically your face rested with the corners of your mouth tilted a little bit upwards, today your lips ran a flat line. Bucky would tell himself he didn’t care, but he couldn’t stop his mind from wondering if everything was okay.

Sam easily caught on as he looked behind him then back at the vibranium armed man. “Alright, go on.”

That seemed to grab back Bucky’s attention, “what?”

“Go on. Go talk to Y/n, you clearly want to. I’m out here telling a hilarious story and you just want to ignore me.”

Bucky shook his head, “no it’s not like that, just…” Buck’s eyes fall to you again before back to Sam, “something’s off.”

“Then go find out,” Sam simply suggested. Bucky wanted to argue and mind his own business but his body was already reacting as he pushed himself off from the counter that he was leaning on and began walking your direction.

Wanting the conversation to happen as naturally as possible he grabbed a cup and poured himself a drink from the water cooler that you were standing beside as you drank from your own cup.

He took a sip from the paper cup before lowering it from his mouth, “hey,” he said.

You responded by giving him a tired smile, “hey.”

Buck looked away, pressing his lips together. Usually you did most of the talking. He wasn’t exactly sure where to go from here. After taking another sip from his drink he figured he’d cut right to the chase, “are you…okay?”

You turned to him with your eyelids resting halfway. “You seem a little off, that’s all.”

“I’m fine, just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Bucky knew how that felt, but he didn’t want to make this about him. “What happened?”

“Oh you know. The usual, just up all night crying, but don’t worry about it, it’s not a big deal,” you promised, trying to remind yourself not to give too much information to the attractive man which was difficult because he did make you a little nervous.

“I’m sorry,” is all he said.

“No don’t be, it’s just one of those things you know?”

He pressed his lips together and raised his brows, lines taking shape above them. “I do know how that is.” You tilted your head and he pointed to himself adding, “nightmares.”

“Oh, gotcha…well it’s just one of those things that we gotta keep moving forward right?”

He nodded again and you offered him a real genuine smile, it wasn’t as big as your usual but he could tell you meant it. With that little chat you threw away your cup, thanked him, and went back on your way.

Buck didn’t know what to do but he wanted to help you in some way, just wasn’t sure how.

Practically twenty minutes later he found you again as he was leaving the building.

“Hey I hoped I’d run into you.”

“Oh yeah? Well here I am,” you said with an exhausted expression still on your face.

“Yeah, I just wanted to say bye and I’ll see you next time.”

That was strange to you, he’s never looked for you before, not like this. “See you next time,” you repeated, finding this interaction odd. He walked past you but before he got too far he turned around again, “oh and uh, check your right cardigan pocket.” And off he went not even a stalling to see your reaction.

Automatically you reach in curiously. You felt a piece of paper in there and pulling it out, you realized it was folded in four quadrants. Unfolding it you opened it up and on it was an endearing picture of a tiny kitten, hanging onto a tree branch, with the words, ‘hang in there,’ plastered in the photo.

This was so hilariously silly to you, especially with the fact that it came from Bucky, the man who half the building was afraid of. Despite your day being crap, you couldn’t stop the laugh that started to escape from your mouth.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic

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crazyk-imagine · 1 year

Text

I Have to Follow my Heart

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Addams Witch!reader

Characters: Addams Witch!reader, Xavier Thorpe, Wednesday Addams, Joseph Crackstone

Briefly mentioned: Morticia Addams, Gomez Addams, Uncle Fester, Thing, Enid Sinclar, Bianca Barclay, Eugene Otinger, Tyler Galpin aka the hyde, Marilyn Thornhill (Laurel Gates)

Warnings: Supernatural fight, reader has visions, powers, mentions of Uncle Fester’s electricity powers, sacrificing oneself (more or less), bits and pieces of the last episode, the battle between Joseph Crackston and Wednesday, Xavier gets reader a phone, friends going through a tough time, Xavier and reader going through the motions of Wednesday’s theory

Word Count: 2,032

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At times I wished I had the same emotionless expression as my “cousin.” One might ask why I put air quotes around the word, it’ simple.

Her uncle Fester happened to stumble upon myself and mother’s violin when I was merely three months old during one of his “adventures”.

As I previously said, I wish I could copy her expression, especially now. You slam your journal shut, turning to look at your clock.

You grab your jacket and exit the room, making your way towards Xavier’s art shed. Your mind is blank but thoughts float around your mind, you wonder what it is he wanted to talk to you about.

With Wednesday firmly believing that he is the hyde, it makes you more weary of being alone with him… in the woods but if you can talk to him in his safe space so he doesn’t “totally freak out” as Enid would say, you believe it would do you good.

“Do you believe me?” Xavier spins around to look at you.

You gulp, this is not where you saw this going right after entering the shed. “I don’t- I don’t know,” you say, giving him your honest answer.

“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s either you believe that I’m not the monster or you agree with your cousin,” he hisses out the word you’ve grown accustomed to calling the pigtailed girl.

You ignore his gaze and opt to look at the floor. “I- I,” the thought you had written down in your journal crosses your mind.

“I don’t think you’d do all these things, but you have to admit the evidence she has does make it highly possible for you to be the hyde.”

He furrows his brows, face slowly becoming more void of emotion. “If you really believe that I’m the monster then why are you here?”

You raise your head. “I- I needed to see it for myself.”

“See what?” He asks with a tired tone.

“I- what’s that?” You point over to the sketchbook with a flower bookmark sticking out of it.

“That- that’s nothing. Why is that important now?” He’d never admit it out loud, but he was always impressed with how your attention could be drawn elsewhere within a second, even if it isn’t the most appropriate time for this to happen.

You ignore him and walk over towards it, opening the page to find a drawing of yourself playing your deceased mothers’ violin. You reach for the flower and find yourself thrown into a vision.

How odd, Wednesday’s the one who usually experiences these, at least from what you can remember. It is also weird how whenever she would have one, you would pass out.

Eugene’s screams flood your mind.

The cave where the monster hides is on fire.

The hyde’s wide and red rimmed eyes.

Red boots… red boots?

You wake up, blinking as your eyes adjust to the moonlit room. “How did I get here?”

The numerous footsteps echoing throughout the hallway draw you out of bed.

You open the door and listen to the scared and panicked shrieks of the other students, rushing over towards the railing you find the red aura of the siren song on the lower floors.

Crackstone.

Your head snaps over towards the side. You furrow your brows at the sight of a pale dressed Wednesday, not your cousin but- “Goody?”

She nods. “You must help her.”

“Help who?”

“The key.”

You remember the pigtailed girl mentioning this to you, you know exactly who she’s referring to. “Where is she?”

“I am going to her now, but you must guide her.”

“Guide her? Guide her how?”

“His black heart will end it… I must go to her now.” She starts to disappear.

“No, Goody. Wait!” You sigh and look down.

Bianca’s head snaps up.

You block her song and search for a window. At times like this, you’re happy you’ve climbed the walls of the school.

You stand on the edge of the roof just before the upper hallway where you can see Bianca and a few others. You don’t feel good, something’s going on with the black-haired girl, the urge to scream is on the tip of your tongue but you fight it as you protect the students.

You place a temporary shield around the area, preventing the fire from reaching any of the students and jump down. “Crackstone!”

He turns to you, the evil look in his eye should send shivers down your spine but you don’t let it, not wanting him to harm anyone.

“Another one. How nice.” The revived Joseph Crackstone taunts you.

“Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

He aims his magical staff at you, luckily you are able to block it. “I am ridding the earth of you abominations!”

“You’re an abomination too!”

“Lies!”

“Your descendant raised you, brought you back from the dead!”

You spin around, avoiding his magic. “You have magic! You are now the very thing you despise yourself! How can you get rid of what keeps your heart beating at this very moment!”

“I am doing what should have been done years ago.”

“You’re going to die, and your magic will not be able to save you.” You raise your hand, trying to telepathically pull the staff away from him.

“Stay away from her.”

Why does this voice sound so familiar?

The arrow flies past your head, in front of the resurrected man, only for him to use his magic and flip it.

You cannot let it hit him or anyone else and put yourself before him to stop it. You spin around, landing on your back unable to catch your breath.

Xavier runs towards you, lifting your upper body off the ground.

“Get the others out of here,” you tell him once you can breathe again.

“What?” He furrows his brows, mouth curling in disbelief.

“You need to get the other students out of here. We cannot lose anyone else.”

“I don’t-”

“I have to help her,” you whisper.

He helps you up, “I don’t like this idea.”

“Good thing,” you snap the arrow and chuck it onto the ground. “You aren’t going to be here to see the rest of it… be careful.”

“You, too.” You push him away when you sense Joseph aiming the damn staff at you.

You stand beside Wednesday. “We have to aim for his-”

“Heart, yes,” she cuts you off. “I didn’t realize you were aware.”

“Let’s say, seeing the dead does have its perks at times. I expect no tears from you at my funeral.”

“Don’t-”

Xavier turns at her shout, his heart drops.

You run at him as Bianca stabs the man in the back. You rub your hands together, thankful for Fester teaching you how to use his trick now more than ever. You hold him in place and call out for her. “Now, Wednesday!”

She lifts the sword and stabs him in his black heart.

You can’t remove your hands from him, not until he fully disappears even then you fall, eyes closing.

The hands on your shoulders and whoever’s attempting to do CPR bring you out of your quick reenergize nap.

You open your eyes and give three a tired smile.

The artist helps you sit up and continues to hold you even as Wednesday wraps her arms around you.

You smile and kiss the top of her head, letting her know it’s over (you hope, unless Nevermore isn’t done with you all).

She forces herself off you, letting Bianca and Xavier help you up.

You nod to the siren. “Let’s go find the others.”

The four of you walk out of the school, searching for the waiting party.

You lean against the boy throughout the entire walk.

He hasn’t said a word to you, and you don’t know what you could say to him other than, “I’m sorry.”

Enid rushes over to hug your cousin, giving you a moment to talk to him.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I believed you were the very thing that would terrorize the school when I shouldn’t have. I should have followed my heart.”

“I think I can forgive you. I mean, you did take an arrow to the shoulder for me.”

“And I would do it again if it meant I had your trust.”

He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt over my trust.”

“I should have listened to you.”

The corner of his lip’s tugs upward, “yeah, maybe. But now that you’ve saved the school, I think I can understand where you were coming from.”

“No, don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t just brush it off, I know what I did wasn’t the nicest or most respectful thing to do when I’ve known you and have been your friend for three years. I know you; I have for years, and I shouldn’t have let someone else’s theories get into my head to ruin that trust.”

He nods, tucking the hair blocking his view behind his ear. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

Your lips twitch, “that’s all I ask.”

Enid rushes over to you, hugging you not nearly as tightly as your cousin but enough to let you know how much she cares about you.

You leave Wednesday to finish her novel while Thing finishes packing for her. You wonder around, waiting until it’s time to leave.

“The feeling of eyes on me brings a chill up my spine and not in the fun way,” you think. “That would be a good thought to right down when I return to my room.”

You turn, facing the stairs to find him watching you which may be creepy to some, but you find it to be rather sweet.

He waves and leans against the railing.

You walk up the stairs, wanting to talk to him before your dragged out of here. “Are your parents coming to pick you up?”

He shrugs, “probably not… I got you something.”

“Really?” You raise a brow.

“It’s not much but it’ll be faster than the letters." He lifts the lid off the box, showing you your new phone.

“Don’t expect a call,” you inform him, not wanting to hurt his feeling. You must really care about him if you’re taking his feelings into consideration.

“I’m not.”

You squint your eyes at him, “seems you know me well.”

“That and,” he tucks his hair behind his ears. “I know you don’t like new things… at least, until you get the hang of them.”

“I guess we’ll have to see about this then.”

“I believe in you.”

“I trust that you’ll have a normal summer?”

“It might be fun if I get a phone call.”

“Don’t push it.”

He smiles, having a feeling that you’ll learn to use the phone faster to call him. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Fine. I’ve decided to let it heal on its own.”

“No magic?”

“I believe it would be wise to save my energy. I have a feeling we’re just getting started with Nevermore and all it has to offer.” You take the phone out of the box and hold it. “How do you use this dark box you call a phone?”

He chuckles, taking it from you, “why are you calling it a dark box exactly?”

“It’s painfully obvious.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that. I already programmed my phone number in here. What exactly you were looking for?”

“I want to send you my aunt Morticia and Uncle Gomez’ address. I will be staying with Wednesday and her family this summer; we believe it would be wise if we stay together.”

“Okay,” he shows you how to use the phone.

“I cannot guarantee I’ll be able to remember all of this.”

“As long as you can turn it on and remember to charge it, you’ll be alright,” he assures you.

“Do you know if you’re ability can work over the phone?”

He shrugs. “I’ve never tried before.”

“Perhaps it could be our summer activity?”

He nods, not at all hiding his smile when you said, “our activity”. It seems as though there’s a chance for him to ask you out in the near future. “Maybe.”

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