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talaok · 8 months ago

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Give up

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: Once again you've found an excuse to invite your neighbor over, except for once you might be able to make him look past your age difference and have a little fun.

Warnings: big ass unspecified age gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie and he's nervous and he's not so very sure about this bc of how old he is + he's out of practice. smut| oral (m and f receiving) and swallowing you know what. sub!Joel vibez all around

Pt. 2

This wasn't anything new.

The fact that he was coming over wasn't at all surprising to either of you.

You always found a way to be around him, and no matter how he ignored your every attempt at flirting- he never said no.

It had taken all of two minutes.

You'd knocked on his door, your best little skirt and tight little top on, and faked a pout as you told him:

"There's something wrong with the shower again Mr. Miller"

To his defense, Joel really tried not to stare at your ass as you walked right in front of him to guide him to your house, but that fucking skirt seemed more of a joke than anything.

You both knew there was nothing wrong with your shower, the switch that granted the hot water had just mysteriously turned itself off once again.

This had been going on for months now, since he first arrived in Jackson... since you knocked at his door that one chilly morning to introduce yourself to your new neighbor-

All it took was one look, and you were hooked.

He was gonna be yours.

"there- 's hot" he nodded, shutting the water off once he'd made sure it worked properly again, before drying his hands on his pants.

"thank you so much Joel" you smiled wider than necessary "What can I do to thank you?"

And no, you didn't even try to make your words not sound dirty, quite the opposite actually.

He cleared his throat, his eyes breaking from yours in a nervous shift.

You always did that- had this annoying effect on him.

"'s nothing darlin'" he shook his head, "didn't even take five minutes"

"Still- I feel like I owe you," you said, biting down a smirk

Shitshitshit

"How 'bout some cake?" you suggested just as he was about to have a stroke.

"sounds good"

__ __ __

"'s real good darlin'"

"thank you" you smiled happily, watching him clear his plate in under a minute

Yeah... you were a great baker, what can I say

"you want another slice?"

"You spoil me sugar," he laughed, patting his belly "I can't"

"alright" You couldn't help but softly laugh as you placed his plate in the sink.

You caught him looking away just as you turned around, which made you smile to yourself, a smile that only widened when you noticed the chocolate on the corner of his mouth.

"Oh Joel"

"Mh?"

You sat beside him at the table, your legs brushing against one another as you leaned closer.

"You've got something... right here"

You swiped the chocolate off with your pointer finger, making a show of popping it into your mouth to clean it.

His eyes remained transfixed on you as your tongue licked your digit clean until you were finally done with a loud pop.

"Jesus"

"What?" you smirked, knowing exactly what "that gave you some ideas?"

"babygirl-" he stopped you immediately, shaking his head

"Oh c'mon Joel" you pouted, your hand going to rest on his forearm "What's a girl gotta do to get you to give up?"

He blinked, looking at you intently and nervously altogether.

"Why do ya even care about an old man like me sweetie?"

You couldn't help but laugh "Have you ever looked in a mirror, Joel?"

You swore you saw pink flood his cheeks- the man was blushing.

"Plus you're kind... and funny when you want to.... and you make me feel-" you bit your lip, trying to find the right word "safe... you make me feel safe"

He scratched his beard, but you couldn't help but notice he hadn't used the arm your hand was still on.

"'m sure there's boys here that are funnier and kinder and make you feel even safer babygirl" he spoke gently "Pretty sure most of them are prayin' you give 'em a chance actually"

You hummed, raising a brow

"but what if I don't want them?"

"You want an old man instead?" he huffed out a self-deprecating laugh.

You rolled your eyes "How old even are you?"

"old enough to be your father darlin'"

God, maybe there was something wrong with you, but those words only made your need for him burn harder.

"so?"

"so I ain't even supposed to look your way babygirl- it ain't right"

"But why?" you pouted "Shouldn't I get to have a say in what's right and wrong for me?"

He sighed, not really knowing what to answer to that.

"What if I don't care?" you spoke softly, your pointer finger on his chest, circling his pec "What if I like you, Joel? what if I wanted to show you just how much right now?"

"sweetheart" he started, shaking his head

"You'd stop me?"

And there it was, the pause... your way in.

"Joel?" you called for him, your voice sickly sweet "Would you?"

He couldn't do anything but tell the truth when you were looking at him like that.

"I don't think any man in his right mind could or would ever stop you darlin'"

Satisfaction took over your whole body.

"no?" you teased, grinning like a cat "Not even if he's old enough to be my father?"

He sighed, what looked like resignation in his eyes.

"I'm just a man sweetheart"

And that- that got him the biggest smirk ever known to man.

There was no sound, it was like the word got quiet as you stood up, placed your hands on his thighs, and slowly kneeled between his legs.

He didn't know what to do, he was genuinely frozen, torn between guilt and attraction, the need to let go, to finally do this- that his brain was short-circuiting.

You took advantage of his silence, making quick work of his zipper, and pulling down his boxers just enough to free his cock...

All your speculations got proven right there- he was huge.

"oh wow," you bit down a grin as you watched your fingers struggle to wrap around his whole base.

You gave him a tentative squeeze, and the strained groan rumbling from his chest was just about the hottest thing you'd ever heard.

"y-you- f-fuck"

You stopped him before he could start protesting, your tongue sliding slowly on his tip before leaving a little kiss right on top.

"You're so big" you hummed, your tongue licking him up from base to head, feeling every vein and twitch of his member.

He was looking down at you just as you looked at him, and he seemed... mesmerized, like he couldn't believe this was really happening, that this wasn't another one of the dreams he'd get about you at night, and that it was really your lips wrapping around him.

Goddamnit

You had barely a little more than his tip in your mouth and he was already gone- and I mean gone gone.

He couldn't even remember why he'd spent so long ignoring your not-so-subtle hints-

Just a minute ago he wanted to tell you that no, you don't gotta do that, and ask you sure about this? - But now... now all he could do was throw his head back as he realized that his lack of practice these past few years had really gotten to him, and that he already had to grab at the chair beneath him with all his strength as he tried not to come embarrassingly fast.

You hummed around his cock, and he couldn't stop his hips from thrusting upwards, a small choking sound fleeing your throat.

"goddamnit, 'm sorry baby-"

But the moment he looked down at you, he saw everything but anger... you seemed happy- you were begging him to do it again with your eyes.

But he couldn't, and part of you already knew that.

He shook his head slowly, still trying to think as straight as he could given the situation, but while he was busy with that... you settled for the next best thing... you forced his manhood down your throat all on your own.

The groan he let out was damn near feral.

You couldn't actually get all of it down there, it was the biggest dick you'd ever seen in your life after all, but you swore that with a little bit of practice (that he'd hopefully grant you), you'd get there.

Still, he didn't really seem bothered or in any way disappointed by your inability.

It was an indescribable feeling seeing this tough, rugged man shiver with pleasure before you, his eyes shut and knuckles white with the effort of gripping onto something.

"I- fuck"

He didn't even know what he wanted to say, he just... it felt so fucking good

Your head was back on bobbing up and down his length, and what used to be groans had turned to moans coming out of his mouth.

"Y-you've gotta-" he swallowed, his sentence interrupted by the feeling of your fingers playing with his balls.

"Y-you've got t-" to stop

But you were choking on his girth again

"I-'m gonna-" come

You watched him struggle with his words, his breathing, and his self-control with what would have been a huge smirk on your face if your mouth hadn't been so preoccupied.

You knew he was about to come already, it really wasn't hard to understand,

You also knew that if you stopped now there was a chance you'd get to do more later- but really, this was something too perfect to leave halfway done, and besides... you feared that if you went with your initial plan of straddling his lap and riding the man to heaven, you'd leave him traumatized.

So you didn't stop, you kept massaging his balls as you worked his dick in and out your mouth, ever so often forcing him as deep as you could and choking while drool and saliva dripped down your chin.

"J-Jesus, sweetheart- I-"

All his words came out in rugged breaths, barely coherent- his eyes were back on you, shadows of lust and need darkening his iris as his right hand went to your cheek, a gesture almost too sweet considering what you were doing.

"F-fuck"

And that was it.

He groaned so loud you probably could hear him from outside the house as he reached his climax, rope after rope of his come filling your mouth and throat.

Joel Miller had come in your mouth... and it couldn't have been any more perfect.

You didn't take your eyes off him for one second. You greedily swallowed all his spent as he breathed heavily, eyes still closed.

His dick was softening in your hand as you pulled his boxers back on top of it, a little wave of disappointment washing over your gut.

It's ok, I'll see it again soon

Just as you were plotting exactly how you were gonna get in his pants in the future, his voice startled you

"I-I don't know what to say"

A soft smile pulled at your lips

"You don't have to say anything" you reassured him as you sat back on your chair, your eyes inevitably falling back to where his boxers peeked from the unfasted fly.

"now- I won't keep you hostage any longer, 'm sure you have important stuff to do back at your house"

The frowns on his forehead deepened as his eyebrows came together in confusion.

"What?"

Now you were confused.

"I'm just saying- thank you for... this" You bit down a smile "You know how long I've been wanting it- and you can bet your ass we're doing it and more, again and again, and again" his eyes widened an almost imperceptible amount and you had to stifle a laugh "but... I'm letting you free for tonight"

He took his time to say something.

Silence wrapped around you for a good minute before he was able to mumble something.

"sweetheart-" he cleared his throat to try and clear his thoughts "I-I dunno how you're used to... bein' treated, but this ain't over"

A spark of excitement ignited in your belly

He couldn't mean...

"unless you want it to be, of course"

Oh my

"I definitely don't want it to be" you hastily spoke, almost breathless "but I would like to know what you... mean"

I mean, not to be prejudiced, but you very much doubted he could get it up again so quickly given his... well, age.

He cleared his throat again and you finally realized it was just a nervous tic and he didn't actually feel the need to.

"You should be on a bed" he avoided your question

You couldn't help but smile as you got up

"Such a gentleman"

"that's the last word that comes to mind right now" was all he grumbled

__ __ __

"sit"

that's all he said, and now there you were, sitting on your bed as he looked at you with a mix of lust and uncertainty.

Until he finally did it- he crouched between your legs.

He cleared his throat again, and you felt on the urge of cumbusting.

he was gonna eat you out

You'd only ever done this once, and even then you had to basically beg the guy, just for him to be god-awful at it.

Somehow you had a feeling Joel wasn't gonna be bad at all.

"You sure about this, yeah?"

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

He could probably ask you to put it up your ass and you'd say yes.

"Yes Joel, I'm 100% positive"

He gave you a little nod, and his hands- his big, strong hands- went to your thighs.

You watched him as if he'd disappear at any moment as he slowly- oh so very slowly- took your skirt off.

He swallowed tightly as his eyes fell on your clothed cunt.

If you didn't know any better you would have guessed he was holding his breath as he got rid of your panties.

"Jesus Christ"

I shouldn't be doing this- I really shouldn't be fucking doing this.

She's not even half my age- she's a kid for god's sake- I'm fucking disgustin-

Every single thought in his mind turned to dust the moment you spread your legs- the moment your wet, drenched, pussy came fully into view.

"Y-you-"

he didn't even remember what he wanted to say- and he didn't remember when his thumb had decided to find your folds, but it had.

He heard a whimper leave your mouth and he felt his cock twitch in his pants, hardening again.

It usually took him a whole fucking hour to get hard again

He looked up at you, and you looked hotter than ever before.

Your cheeks were flushed, your bottom lip was between your teeth, and you looked so... perfect.

"I haven't done this in a- while"

As he spoke those words he hoped you'd think he only meant this... as if you'd actually care about how he hadn't gotten laid in years.

"'s ok Joel" you nodded, smiling encouragingly.

He swallowed again, his gaze slowly lowering.

He couldn't believe you were this wet for him- a pretty thing like you.

His thumb moved, gently sliding up and up and up, until he found your clit, earning another little moan.

Fuck

He circled the little bud, and your cries got a little higher and he swore- he swore going to hell was worth it, worth this.

He had to taste you- fuck, he'd been dreaming about the taste of you since he first saw you- So with all the carefulness in the word, he bent down, his lips finding your soft thighs.

He could see your belly inflate and deflate with your exited breaths as he kissed his way closer and closer to your heat, until he was right there, and he couldn't help but leave a kiss on your mound, on the hair covering it so very nicely.

"Joel-" your voice was strangled "please"

If it had been twenty years ago he would have said something cocky like "'s ok baby, it's coming", his whole demeanor would have been very different too. He used to be in charge in the bedroom, always- he used to feel smug and sure of himself, but now... now he was old and out of practice, and he was... he was nervous.

But all it took was to look up at you, at those beautiful pleading eyes, to find the courage.

You wanted this. You wanted him.

And you tasted better than he could have ever fucking imagined.

A deep, feral groan rumbled in his chest as his tongue passed between your folds, as he gathered all your slickness on his taste buds, all that sweet sweet juice that felt like fucking heaven.

Yeah, now I remember why I used to love this so much

You were moaning like a desperate little thing above him, your thighs squeezing his face as your feet clung to his torso.

And he was gripping the outside of your legs, keeping you as close to him as humanly possible, his face as deep in your core as it would go.

His nose was rubbing against your clit in a way that made you see stars, and he was still lapping, not focusing on anywhere in particular, just aimlessly and desperately feeding off of you.

"Oh my god Joel-" you gasped as two of his fingers found their way inside of you.

His movements were slow, he didn't wanna hurt you, and he wanted to find what made you feel good, which is why he kept exploring until his digits curled up into that sweet cushy part of you, and he felt you squeeze him as you threw your head back.

"f-fuck!"

Your left hand had traveled to his locks, gripping them tightly as your hips frantically moved against his face to try and seek more.

His mouth was focusing only on your clit now, thoroughly sucking on it- and just when you thought this couldn't get any better, that this was the most pleasure you'd ever experienced and there was no way he would be able to top this- another one of his big, thick fingers pushed into you.

The cry you let out was something Joel would be thinking of until he was six feet under.

Three of his fingers were so much more than what you were used to.

"J-Joel" you whimpered actual tears staining your vision as you looked down at him "Oh my fucking g-god Joel"

Your gut had been right. He was really fucking good at this

He was watching you, studying every little face you made as the squelching of his fingers moving inside of you filled the room together with your moans.

"I-I'm coming"

You could barely finish the sentence that the world went bright, and the purest pleasure you'd ever felt erupted in your body with a million different blasts.

For a whole minute, you were in another universe- and Joel eagerly enjoyed the show, not stopping his movements for even a fraction of a second.

You feared the moment you opened your eyes you'd wake up in your bed after yet another dream about this man- and yet he was still here, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.

He couldn't help but steal another little kiss on your core before he leaned away.

"well... wow" you smiled like an idiot, your breathing still a little labored "You know what you're doing Mr. Miller"

He didn't say anything, but you saw pink flush his cheeks again as he let your legs go, robbing you of his touch.

You would have been disappointed if it wasn't for the fact he was very clearly having trouble not having his gaze fall down to your heat.

You smiled to yourself as you accepted the skirt he quietly handed you.

Seeing you standing before him with it on when he knew you were bare and wet underneath made Joel's brain freeze for a moment, but that was of course, until you stood on your tiptoes, and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"thank you for this Joel"

Your voice was so sweet it sounded angelic to his ears- but the sweetness was replaced by something very different very quickly.

As you stood back down to your normal height, your body, being flushed against Joel's, came in contact with something that very much piqued your interest.

he was hard- very fucking hard

"no babygirl"

he was already shaking his head, crushing all your dreams

"but-"

"I can't" his tone was firm, although you could still hear restraint behind his words, like it was costing him a lot to say no.

"It feels to me like you very much can" you rebutted, smirking softly.

"I- it ain't right"

Oh my god

It took a lot not to roll your eyes "I thought we were past that whole thing" you said, cocking an eyebrow "Do I need to remind you what you were doing just a minute ago?"

"that's different"

"How?"

"it just is"

"what if I beg you Joel?" you purred, your best doe eyes looking up at him "What if I told you about how much I'd like to feel your cock inside of me? How desperate I am for it, Joel- how much I need it"

He was gonna go home and punch himself in the face for what he was about to say.

But it was true, he couldn't. It wasn't right- he needed... to think about it at least

"darlin'" he spoke softly "I can't... not right now"

there it is

The smirk that pulled at your lips was the most mischievous thing in the world.

"right now" you repeated his words, biting your lip as you played with the hem of his flannel "I can live with that- but Joel...don't even think this is over"

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retroaria · 7 months ago

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⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⚠︎ Hottie Alert! ⚠︎⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

✴︎˚｡⋆let’s not talk about how bad I am at titles….things the bllk boys do that make your head spin! sometimes it’s unintentional, sometimes they just wanna see that flustered look on your face… ✴︎˚｡⋆

cw: suggestive MDNI (18+), gn!afab!reader, isagi and bachira are longer bc i wrote them before i got nervous abt not having posted in a while and decided i gotta finish this fast >~<

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | requests are open! | with love -aria 💋

As told by the holy blue lock scripture (the egoist bible) we all know isagi has a thigh fetish. I like to imagine he indulges in this more subconsciously than he’d like to admit. his hand dragging up your thigh as his attention is focused elsewhere, his grip tightening, his fingers tapping slightly. he’s about three inches away from your heat and he’s rubbing his thumb in slow circles, teasing you without even knowing. when you jolt slightly from the touch he snaps his head over to you, then glances down at the position he’s got you in before scrambling an apology and moving his hand back to a safer spot, still gripping softly on your plush skin.

he has a detrimental case of hair blindness. his little sprout is adorable, but he’s never thought to pay any mind to the way his hair falls in front of his face. he simply lets it dry however it chooses and carries on with his day. he’s always found it a bit silly the way you prance over to him all flustered as he steps out of the shower, his hair pushed back, the pieces on the sides dripping little droplets down his shoulders and chest. you’d run your fingers through his pushed back bangs, admiring the full view of his face and all his features that would typically be covered by his deep blue locks.

he’s not one to tease, but he is an opportunist. when he sees you standing over the kitchen counter, cooking, cleaning, whatever it us you’re doing, he takes the opportunity to slowly grip your waist, sliding his hands up your sides before moving towards the center of your torso and fully engulfing you. he loves the way you jolt at the surprise of his gentle touch, and the way you immediately melt into him once you realize who it is.

as much as you’d love to pay attention to the actual game, it’s so hard not to let your eyes follow bachira’s every move, in what anticipation for the moment that he bends down, hands on his knees as he’s panting and sweating - just to see that sickening smirk painted across his face. it’s the same smirk he gives you before he tackles you to the bed, or when he sees you wearing something that highlights all his favorite parts of you. that devilish excitement in his eyes always serves as a painful reminder of how gorgeous your boy is (and how badly you can’t wait for this game to end so you can have him all to yourself)

his touchiness often takes him places he had never intended to go, not that either of you are complaining. when the two of you lay together he loves to let his hands roam all over you in a gentle graze across your soft skin. sometimes he’ll close his eyes as he does it, no aiming necessary when all he needs to do is feel you. and he knows just how tantalizing it is for you. every time his fingers crawl up the valley of your chest, only to come back down, grazing your softly over your tummy, giving you goosebumps.

when he’s super focused on something he tends to stick his tongue out just a bit. you’ve yet to decide if this is actually hot or if it’s just adorable, sometimes it’s both. his focus only falters when his eyes flicker up to your gaze on him and he slowly pulls his tongue back into his mouth licking his lips in the process while he looks at you - now that part of it, is in fact hot.

nagi doesn’t do many things to purposefully get your attention other than whining at you like a baby, but over the course of your relationship he’s become aware of little things he does that seem to rile you up. he’ll lean “nonchalantly” against the door frame as he speaks to you, purposefully reach as far up as he can when he stretches so his shirt rides up his torso just the right amount, slip his hands teasingly under the hem of your shirt as he hugs you from behind.

when the two of you wake up in the mornings, nagi sits up on the bed and ruffles his hair a bit. it’s a simple ministration that always has you watching in awe as he combs his white locks back and forth, his eyes barely open as he mumbles a soft good morning to you.

if reo could make teasing you his full time job, he would. he takes any chance he can to show off when he knows he’s got your attention. and when i say he knows, i mean he literally knows.

he knows how hot he looks fresh out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist as he makes his way over to you to start some bullshit conversation that only serves as a means to get your eyes on him. he knows you’re practically oogling at him when he’s on the field, his eyes laser focused, sweat dripping, pupils blown. he pays attention to your reactions and loves them so much he goes out of his way to recreate them.

another one of his favorite tactics is whispering dirty things in your ear when your out in public. he gets off on the wide eyes you give him as his words dawn upon you, chuckling at the flush that spreads across your face.

oliver aiku morning voice would send you to heaven and back. it would heal the soul, soothe all your woes, and make you all hot and bothered at the same time. it’s incredible.

on the topic of mornings, just watching him get ready is hot (it’s not fair one guy gets to be this sexy). the silly faces he makes when he’s shaving his face are somehow also adorable though, like a girl putting on mascara. seeing him step out of the bathroom all fresh and clean, coming over to engulf you in his scent (definitely wears like a sandalwood musky type of cologne ugh) and warm soft skin. if you’re attracted to masculinity, oliver aiku is the perfect embodiment of that.

he is clueless to how attracted you really are to seeing him do all these little things. as much of a tease as he is, he doesn’t expect his casual ministrations to be such a hit.

ok so kaiser does this thing that’s maybe a little odd?? to some people?? but he loves giving you light scratches. gently dragging his nails down your back and arms and legs and watching the subtle goosebumps form. would want you to do it to him as well, it’s probably a turn on for both of you.

this man would defend you to the ends of the world. he truly believes you could do no wrong. seeing him all riled up on his own arrogance in your honor is quite a site to see.

hello tumblr goers !! aria is back in action, thank you for your patience during my mini hiatus :) i did rush this post a bit so i’d have something to give you guys while i work on my drafts. i’m gonna be closing out my event soon (i’ll try to write the prompts that weren’t requested but we’ll see) the event was lowkey a flop lmao but to those who did request thank you so much !! (i’ve noticed that events are a tumblr artifact now or maybe mine just sucked i’ll try again for 2k or 2.5k maybe) with that being said i have a cool kaiser nsfw fic coming out soon (plus more obvi) so stay tuned !! i love u guys, stay safe and stay kewl :3

networks: @bllk-tv + @pixelcafe-network

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blakellyl · 1 month ago

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About Sentry, Void and what they're really like

Sentry, Void and Bob are all the same, they have the same traumas, fears, self-doubts and insecurities, because they are one person. The only difference is that Sentry has powers (he is Bob’s mania; mania – feeling that you can do anything; this feeling + serum = Sentry, who bc of the serum actually can do anything. That’s the only thing he’s confident in – his invincibility, his superpowers, that will allow him to do whatever he wants, because that’s what he is, but that’s it (!), because he’s still Bob). And then there is Void, who’s about absolute loneliness and hopelessness.

Some may be confused by the way they talk about each other, as if they’re separate personalities (for example, Bob calling Void "it", Sentry saying to Val "it's not Robert you need to be afraid of" and when John calls him Bobby, corrects him by saying "you can call me Sentry", Bob not remembering anything (at first) after Sentry or Void take over, or how Void was talking to Bob at the end), SO I’m adding what i wrote in other posts here:

THEY separate themselves from each other, of course they do, they are not his normal self, they are his mental disorder.

A bit more about it:

Bob has mental illnesses inherited from his mother and his own (as a result of a terrible life). The main one is bipolar, almost certainly passed down from his mom.

After he was injected with the serum it was like his bipolar was pumped with the strongest steroids and now his mental illness exists beyond human levels, as Sentry and Void (Mel talked about this, that give a serum to someone like Bob and who knows what will happen. Well now we know).

Moving on to the next one:

the key moment that a lot of people don’t seem to understand: they have never known love or care, never had a single person who was even a little worried about them or genuinely cared for them. They have zero confidence that anyone will ever need them, even more than that, they are sure of the opposite. They are very traumatized, all of them, they suffer exactly the same, because they are one.

I didn't think it was necessary to write about it because it's literally shown in every scene, but I'm shocked at how many people didn't get it at all, so.

With Bob himself, I think it's all clear to everyone, thankfully.

About Void:

He repeats throughout the movie that they (Bob/Sentry/Void) will always be alone, he says this to both Bob and Yelena (even though she hugs Bob at this moment, and yet)

He also says "you think they care about you? you don’t matter to anyone" and "the most shameful thing of all is thinking you could be anything more than nothing".

For him, there is no hope. He doesn't believe anyone will ever stay with them because all their life no one ever did, everyone always left/betrayed/hurt them. He also doesn’t believe that they’ll ever be worth anything at all, that they’ll be anything at all to anyone. The way he keeps confidently repeating that they will always be alone shows that he has given up hope that someone will ever truly love them (and that’s how he’s supposed to be, he’s Bob’s darkest thoughts and fears). He's not a mystical tough guy as a lot of people love to portray. He's a severe depression (literally), an absolute hopeless loneliness (and it’s obvious, it’s all in his name).

About Sentry:

(and all the times we're shown that it's literally just Bob with powers)

1) Desire to be praised and loved

The first person who says a kind word to him, tells him that he is worth something, he immediately follows that person and does whatever he is told, even though he is not sure that he wants to. He does it to please, to be useful, finally believing in himself because of her and wanting to prove her right.

2) Kindness

Him being kind to those who he'd known for a couple days at most, and not even through his “own eyes”.

He listens to Valentina, even when she says she plans to use him so she won't be impeached. He's okay with that. Until she gives him the order to kill the bolts. He doesn't want to do that, even though this is the first time he's interacted with them himself, only having seen them through “Bob's eyes”. He doesn't want to hurt them, and he tells them that. He offers them to surrender and he offers it sincerely, smiling awkwardly and shrugging his shoulders, nodding a little at the thought that it's a good suggestion:

He doesn't even attack them; it's Alexei who jumps on him first, screaming.

And even when they come at him with knives and bullets, he just pushes John, Yelena and Ava away most of the time (he doesn't know Bucky and Alexei, so it's different with them).

All of that screams in everyone’s faces that he's not "I'm going to kill everyone, I'm so badass" (like some people hilariously think) but that he won’t really hurt anyone who isn't a threat to him (even if they kinda tried to hurt him, but he knows their intentions, so he’s not upset with them). He calmly and kindly asked them to surrender, again because he's trying to please Valentina, but also because he didn’t want to fight them (just because Bob knew them for a day and they helped him).

3) Insecurity

As soon as the guys don't even ridicule him, but just ask him what's wrong with his hair and the way he looks, he can't leave this topic alone, he gets all worked up, saying he doesn't like it, even though Valentina tells him to leave it alone and not to let other people's words affect him.

It shows that his giant ego is only related to his great strength, but he has no self-confidence in anything else.

4) The realization that yet another person is trying to tell him how to live and what to do:

To her "you need to do what i say" he simply asks why.

He thought they were going to act as a team, but it turns out they want to put a leash on him, and he won't let that happen. He's part of Bob, and Bob has lived his whole life under someone else's commands and orders.

Sentry is also honestly tells her that she doesn't know what he's capable of, and he's right, she doesn't.

That’s the only thing he’s so sure of, his strength. (again, ironically, because of her).

5) People betraying and hurting Bob (+Sentry/Void) all his life

This scene breaks my heart every fucking time.

When she reaches for the button to kill him.

Kill him because she doesn't care, like all the others before her.

Look at his face when he realized what she wanted to do.

And his words after, "You were gonna turn on me, just like the rest of them"

And that says EVERYTHING about Sentry (and Bob, and Void). About all of them and their severe trauma.

They want at least one person in their life who won't betray them or try to hurt them.

Sentry started listening to Valentina when she, again, only said a few kind words to him. He obediently did what she told him to do, even though he didn't want to, all so that someone would stand by him and tell him he was worth something.

And it ended just like so many times before in Bob’s life – no one cared about him as a person and about what he wanted.

All of Bob, all sides of him, want someone for the first time in their life to be there for them, support them and see their worth.

And the further it goes, the worse it gets:

Bob is hopeful, even though there’s so much pain and sadness in him.

Sentry is hopeful too, but there's an aggression in him when faced with attempts to trick him, to manipulate him again.

and Void – no hope at all.

And lastly, I'll add:

when Sentry becomes close to the bolts just as Bob is (as his normal self, not in his mania state), he will be ready to kill anyone for them and to die himself (which thankfully is almost impossible).

Everyone’s screaming that Bob is a sweetheart, but so is Sentry (and so is Void). And that’s a fact, that’s one human being.

They all want to be loved and understood and to matter to someone.

again quoting Florence Pugh

Bob – cute and sad

Sentry – trying and traumatized

and I’ll add from myself

Void – beyond depressed and hopeless

and I love all of them, all of Bob, very very much

#bob reynolds #robert reynolds #sentry #void #thunderbolts #thunderbolts*#edited a bit 🤏🏻#just to add some things #bob thunderbolts #sentryagent #voidwalker #lewis pullman #mcu #marvel

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starkeymeow · 3 months ago

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fetish for my love.

plot ── at a party, you dance like you don’t care and rafe watches like he always does, until some drunk idiot makes a move, and rafe reminds everyone, especially you, that complicated or not, you’re his.

authors note ── i love relationships that r literally the most toxic yet healthiest 😞 yes this is bc im on season 3 of shameless. i love ian n mickey. ALSO i need to start those hunger games series asap for rafe too pls im having sm ideas

main masterlist | tag list

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN COMPLICATED WITH RAFE. never clean, never soft, never easy. you tell yourself you’re ready for him, whatever that even means. ready for the way he kisses you like he owns you, talks to you like he hates how much he needs you. ready for the bruises on your neck that he never apologizes for, only stares at the next morning with a smirk that says he’s proud.

you’re not stupid. you know you and rafe aren’t just hooking up. he doesn’t let you breathe near another guy. he drags you onto his lap at parties like you’re some kind of trophy, like he’s staking claim. he doesn’t share, never has.

but he also doesn’t commit. not really. not out loud.

he’s frustrating. impossibly stubborn. confusing to the point of insanity. but god, he’s hot.

and that’s why you’re here, pressed under the weight of his arm at some random party on figure 8. you’re not even sure who it belongs to. you don’t care. sarah’s here, so are topper and kelce. they’ve got drinks in their hands and sun on their cheeks, laughing about something you stopped listening to ten minutes ago.

you feel rafe’s touch through your shirt, the possessiveness of his arm draped around your shoulders, fingers tracing a pattern against your collarbone like muscle memory. like he’s done this a thousand times before.

and you barely notice her at first, a touron. she’s pretty in a try-hard way. long legs, glossy lips, that annoying baby voice that makes your skin crawl. she floats into your circle like she belongs, all sugar-sweet smiles and fake tan confidence.

she says something to rafe you can’t hear over the music. gets on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. you watch him lean down, lips twitching. he smiles.

it’s not the smile he gives you.

sarah shifts beside you. you can feel her glance, like she’s waiting to see how you’ll react. like she knows this is about to get ugly. and then rafe says, “yeah.”

just one fucking word, casual and cold, and then he’s gone.

his arm slips off your shoulder like you were never there to begin with, and he follows that girl through the crowd, disappearing without even looking back.

your stomach turns. heat flashes behind your eyes. you blink, trying not to show it, not to feel it.

you stare at the empty space beside you and shake your head, forcing a laugh that’s more bitter than amused. “asshole,” you mutter, just loud enough for sarah to hear.

she doesn’t say anything. she doesn’t have to. you’re already reaching for another drink because if rafe’s gonna play this game again, fine. you know how to play dirty too.

eventually it’s later into the day, the party’s still going. music’s still thumping through the backyard, louder than necessary, but no one’s complaining. not when the drinks keep flowing and the energy stays wild.

you’re on a table with sarah, both of you swaying to the beat like you don’t give a single shit who’s watching. because you don’t. maybe you’ve had a little too much. maybe your vision’s a little fuzzy at the edges, but you feel good.

you throw your head back and laugh when sarah spins in a lazy circle, her drink sloshing dangerously close to spilling. your hips move with the rhythm, arms lifted in the air, and the crowd keeps moving around you like waves crashing, shifting, never stopping.

some guys cheer. others whistle. a group near the pool is definitely yelling something stupid, but it’s all background noise.

you’re paying attention to sarah, and only sarah. you don’t notice him watching, but rafe sees everything.

he’s leaning back on something. maybe a wall, maybe a post, who the fuck knows, but his eyes are locked on you like you’re the only thing in the frame.

it’s always like this with you. he can never look away for long. can never relax when there’s any guy near you, not when he knows exactly what they’re thinking. because he thinks it too.

you’re beautiful. obnoxiously beautiful. and the way you move, the way you laugh, the way you don’t even notice how every man in a 20-foot radius is staring like they’ve never seen a woman before? it drives him insane.

so when he catches the guy near your table—some sloppy, wasted kook fumbling with his wallet—rafe already knows what’s about to happen. he straightens up, jaw tight.

the guy’s barely standing, laugh slurred, waving a folded dollar like it’s hilarious. like he’s about to make the joke of the year. and then, he reaches forward, aims that bill right for the waistband of your skirt. and rafe is there.

his hand snaps out, grabbing the guy’s wrist with a force that makes the idiot yelp, “fuck, dude—”

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” rafe snaps.

the guy’s face crumples in confusion. “chill, bro. i was just . . . what’s wrong with you—?”

rafe snatches the bill from his hand like it offends him, shoves the guy back with his free arm, chest puffed and rage practically humming under his skin. “you got a death wish or you just fuckin’ stupid?”

the guy stumbles, trying to laugh it off, but his smile cracks when rafe steps forward again. no one steps in. no one ever does when rafe’s like this.

he doesn’t even need to throw a punch. just that look, cold, pissed, ready to ruin someone, sends the guy scrambling backwards, mumbling something and disappearing into the crowd. and then it’s just him and you again.

you’re still dancing, not even realizing what just happened behind you. rafe lets his eyes drift down your legs, over the way your skirt clings to your hips, up the curve of your waist.

he steps forward and reaches up, brushing the side of your thigh. you glance down.

his hands find your waist, firm and familiar, lifting you down from the table like it’s nothing. like he needs you back on the ground where he can reach you.

“what are you—” you start, the words half a laugh, breathless and confused.

but rafe doesn’t answer. he holds up the crumpled hundred dollar bill. doesn’t say a word. just tucks it gently, deliberately, behind the strap of your bra, fingers brushing your skin, his eyes never leaving yours.

your mouth opens in surprise, brows lifting like really?

but he’s already leaning in, taking your chin between his fingers. his lips crash into yours without warning, rough, fast, like he’s been holding it back all day and finally stopped pretending.

and then he pulls away just enough to wrap his arm around your shoulders, dragging you flush against his side.

you don’t know what just happened. you don’t know what any of this means. but you’re smiling. because rafe don’t play about his girl!! and tonight, every night, that’s exactly what you are.

@nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @ariiwritess @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @rafestar @drewstarkeyzwhore @drewsephrry @annaconscience @writtenbyhollywood @yourtypicalteenagegirl @daisydark @v4mpscrms

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love-toxin · 5 months ago

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Godslayer -> Phainon

(cws: yan!phainon and probably ooc, gn!darling, very elaborate kidnapping, amphoreus story spoilers, brief mild violence, brainwashing, phainon's a lowkey perv, guilt tripping, gaslighting/manipulation, mild nudity) word count: 4.3k a/n: @yandere-romanticaa ding ding! i'm ringing the dinner bell darling <3 (also yes i wrote this specifically bc of u teehee)

“Then it's settled,” Aglaea declared with a disarming smile on her cold lips. “The Trailblazer will remain here as collateral, while you two head back to the stars.”

Caelus and Dan Heng both looked between themselves, and then back at you uneasily. Not even your own smile could quench their anxieties, but this was a necessary evil that you were willing to lay yourself at the mercy of.

The demigod leader of Amphoreus didn't trust you nor your fellow Trailblazers, at least not enough to keep your secrets of the worlds beyond the stars to yourselves after your companion's little incident. They needed to return–Caelus for the Stellaron that he housed inside him, and Dan Heng for his lineage, his knowledge and experiences the Astral Express crew needed to continue their venture. But you?

You were an old dog by this point. Too many adventures had left you tired and lagging behind the younger ones, and there was no feat you could perform in battle that the others couldn't achieve ten times over. Your wisdom couldn't touch that of Himeko or Welt, and you couldn't even carry the mood like Pom-Pom or March 7th. After your journey to Penacony, the crew even had the Memokeeper and Sunday to add to their ranks, and the cars were getting busy nowadays. The truth was there even if they didn't want to admit it.

Nobody needed you. They had all grown up and branched out, and your tending wasn't a necessity anymore. And more importantly, Aglaea demanded a peace offering to ensure that the Astral Express would keep the existence of Amphoreus to themselves. Though both boys offered themselves up like lambs, you knew better than either of them that they weren't destined for the slaughter quite yet.

You ushered them away, kept the goodbyes brief; Caelus took one last photo of you for March, and Dan Heng pulled you into an unexpected hug, to whisper a promise that they would come back for you in your ear. You patted his arm, knowing he shouldn't be deterred lest he be forced to show his real emotions about your departure, and simply reassured him that there was no need to rush. You would be well taken care of, even if at the back of your mind you knew it was in captivity. As the two young men took their leave and watched you disappear as they hurtled back into the sky in their car, the urge to spread your wings and follow them welled up inside you–but it was swiftly and staunchly quelled as you were led to your quarters, where you would while away an unfathomable string of days with a new, hollow world ahead of you.

Although you didn't know him well, you grew to like Phainon as you adjusted to your new home.

The white-haired boy was seemingly on the younger side, though he held a calm serenity about him that spoke to years of hard-fought battles. He didn't come to visit often, only on rare occasions, but he brought gifts when he was able and he was a welcome source of companionship, even on days where he was more quiet than friendly. Aglaea's warnings about you ensured that the people of Okhem kept their distance, which was useful to keep your vow, but dreadfully lonely. When Phainon arrived, he would tote along all manner of things to entertain you: a jug of wine, a puzzle box, bits of seaglass to decorate your balcony, bread, salt, things you neither needed nor asked for but he brought nonetheless. He once brought you a kiss on the cheek but you both refrained from speaking about it since–with you hoping it was merely a cultural oddity–and sometimes, he would bring you a little carafe of oil and leave it in some conspicuous place for you to find.

Why a man as handsome as he was–and a hero no less–would seek refuge with you was…uncanny. Strange. It wasn't as if Phainon had eyes for you and nobody else, in fact he often barely looked at you at all, even when he came knocking on your door. But he was steadily encroaching on what little space you had for yourself, and despite finding it unnerving, you never asked him to stop to his face. You didn't even tell Aglaea about his visits at all, though you were sure she must know.

It was the day he visited you in your quarters and asked outright if you needed more oil that things finally came to a breaking point. You asked him, point blank, what he intended you to use it for. And his answer was as blunt as you expected it to be.

“For you.” His blue eyes caught the light and shimmered, much like the shallow water of your bath where he was lounging while his clothes hung on the chaise nearby. Most citizens of Amphoreus were free-spirited enough to attend the public baths nude, but to have a man you barely knew strip himself down in your chambers was something else entirely. He did so on rare occasions, yet he still never acknowledged it nor your reluctance to join him.

The quiet, peppered only by the soft splashes of water feeding into the bath from the miniature fountain, hung like a heavy pendulum that could barely swing. Phainon's crystalline eyes bored into you for once as you lounged stiffly in the chaise beside his belongings, and you felt a distinct shift take over the air.

“Your friends won't be coming back.” He murmured. He slowly stood from the bench while the water cascaded down his rippling musculature, your gaze averted in an instant despite him making no move to cover himself. He had no reason to be ashamed, but even as he took slow steps towards you–drip, drip, dripping on the marble floor–you steeled your nerves and avoided peeking even out of pure curiosity. Especially because, due to his brazen nature as of late, it seemed as though he wanted you to look. “They will never be allowed to approach Amphoreus again.”

He didn't need to tell you that for you to understand the reality. You weren't an evergreen adventurer; you were a Trailblazer, a seasoned veteran of the stars, and with the freedom of your exploration you knew fully well the consequences could be as dire as the pain of death. Finally turning your head towards him, you locked eyes with those endlessly blue ones and got to your feet to match him.

“The Astral Express never abandons its crew. They may venture on, and Amphoreus may crumble while they're away,” A light flickered to life in your eyes that he could see, and his breath hitched despite him being the one that was so bold. “But they'll come back to find me. They always do.”

“Aglaea's pact stands.” He rebutted, his brow furrowing. “They won't be allowed entry. Even if I have to intercept them myself, I will, under her order.”

“They don't need your permission.” You answered in kind, reached down to the chair beside you, and threw his clothes carelessly at his chest. “Get dressed, and get out.”

“Kick me out, and I won't be back again.” Now his teeth made an appearance, glaring scornfully at you in a manner much more akin to a villain than the hero he proclaimed he was. “See how long you last alone. I was doing you a kindness.”

“Do me a greater one and leave. Your presence alone pisses me off.”

His breath caught in his throat at your insult, but his anger evaporated as if it were a ploy all along. Phainon suddenly looked frightened, anxious, as if he was hoping his bluff would sow enough doubt in your mind for you to plead with him to stay. Now, he seemed altogether out of place, shifting weight from foot to foot while you made your way out to the balcony and took in a breath of fresh air.

After several minutes of fabric shifting and the clicking of buckles and buttons, your door creaked open and shut as you were finally left on your own. The polished stone cooled your arms as you leaned against the railing, and peered out over the lively streets of Okhem with a longing ache for home.

Despite the confrontation during your last meeting, it didn't take very long for Phainon to come knocking on your door again–less than a week had passed since you threw him out. After a few days of him trying to gain entry to your dwelling and being turned away, he started bringing gifts again. Every time you refused them he left them sitting by the door, a pile steadily growing over the days and weeks that followed.

Aglaea questioned them only once when she came by for a rare visit, but your mild answer at the time seemed not to satisfy her. Even so, she only glanced at the stacks of wilting flowers and jugs of stale wine briefly before attending to the business she had with you.

About a month had passed since your interaction when you came home to your quarters, fresh off a walk supervised by two guards as per usual, and found Phainon waiting for you on your balcony. He was fully dressed this time, thank the aeons, but the kicked puppy-dog look on his face immediately soured your mood. He held not a flower nor a loaf of freshly baked bread in his hands, but a book. One you hadn't seen in a long time.

Despite your better judgement you approached the people's hero, and he held out the leather-bound bundle of pages and letters for you to gingerly take from his hands.

“I found this at the crash site, where you and your comrades first landed.” There was no need to flip through it, you were already readily familiar with this precious treasure. It was your diary, stuffed full of memories from years of trailblazing…it was something you thought you would never see again after losing it in the explosive collision. Your fingers mindlessly traced the etchings in the leather that Welt had spelled out in your name, while the slightly askew binding was the work of March and Dan Heng's dogged collaboration. The pages had been scented with flower oils from Himeko's prized collection and stamped with Pom-Pom's paw print; it was a gift from the Astral Express for a birthday that had long passed, one that marked so many years of adventuring with the steadily-growing crew. It was a memory of happier times, and aside from the lightest bit of scorching around the edges of the cover it was still intact.

Phainon cleared his throat, having watched you stare down in deep contemplation at the book. “I take it this is special to you?”

“Yes,” You answered, finally lifting your head to look at him. “I don't know how you found it, or why, but you have my thanks for returning it to me. This is…very special, indeed.” The sickening, hollow feeling of homesickness set in again as you tenderly laid the diary down on your side table to keep it out of reach of any more danger.

“Well, I brought it as a token.” Phainon declared, and straightened his posture subtly as he clasped his hands together before him. “You have a duty to assimilate into Amphoreus’ culture, but I imagine it'll be difficult if you cannot confront your past, first. Hence why I went out of my way to retrieve it for you.”

His words put a bitter taste on the back of your tongue. Confront your past? Something about the way he said it, with such imminent finality, put you ill at ease and drew you to turn and face him with half a scowl already brewing. Phainon seemed to sense it in an instant but only appeared more determined.

“If you think I'll be throwing this into the fireplace, you're abysmally wrong.”

“I wasn't expecting it to be that dramatic,” He sighed, though your stout rejection put a pout on his lips. “But yes, I do think you should get rid of it once you give it one last read.”

Here we go again. “I have half a mind to hit you over the head with it. Are all the heroes of this world as arrogant as you?”

“Let me be very clear with you-”

“Enough of this.” Cutting him off abruptly was the only way you could imagine saving yourself from more of his drivel.

“-I'm trying to help you!” But he continued, the prim and calm façade cracking as he grew increasingly irritated with your interruptions. “Don't mistake my kindness as anything else! If you just listen to my proposal-”

“Proposal?” You scoffed. “Tell me you mean something else.”

“What I meant is what I said.” He growled. “You are, by divine rights, mine. You're just fortunate that I possess some self-restraint, and haven't forced you to accept that against your will.”

“Have you lost your mind?” With a shake of your head, you brushed him off conpletely. “What delusion has possessed you to think that I'm in any way yours?”

“Because I claimed you!” He finally burst out. “When Aglaea told us you would be exiled, I begged her to allow you safe haven. I promised her that if you were here, that if I could keep you, then I would gain the strength to slay Nikador myself–to slay any god that stands in my way!” Phainon's voice rose to a tremoring bellow, his blue gaze nearly bordering on a scarlet glare as his eyes pierced into your very soul. In that moment he was no man, but a terrifying, hysterical beast that roared so fiercely he left the silence shaking afterwards.

“You aren't here as collateral damage. Make no mistake–you are here for me to claim, as your husband.” His words resonated off the polished walls, overwhelmed the soft bubbling of the bath and the breeze that blew in from the beautiful, blue sky beyond your balcony.

Phainon’s outburst left you aghast; had he always been such a selfish and arrogant hero, or were you simply blind to it up until now? “I am no such thing, and I never will be.” You seethed. “Get the fuck out of my room.”

“Fine.” He took several steps forward and latched on to your wrist, his grip so tight it threatened to break you. “But you're coming with me. I've had enough of this charade–I won't entertain your childish rejection any longer.”

You yanked your arm from his grasp to stumble backwards, and your eyes flicked towards the door. Phainon took a step before you even worked up the courage to sprint, and when you did, he threw his weight into you to take you off your feet with ease, and flipped you down on to the floor, his hand twisted in your hair and your cheek pressed to the cold marble.

“...I love you, can't you see that? You're the one I love!” He cried out, his knee digging painfully into the small of your back as you struggled. Clearly he took your attempts at escaping him as an insult, and freshly infuriated, he gripped you harder by the hair and pulled you up to meet your ear with his lips. “I need you. I need you, or nothing else matters. I don't care about the gods anymore-” His teeth grazed your ear and he bit down hard, the blood fueling his hunger with the smallest taste of it on his tongue. “-But I need to become one so I can protect you. My world.”

“You're…You're out of your mind,” Phainon scoffed at your gasp for air, at the insult that you thought would hurt him, and does. “..Your gods are nothing compared to the aeons. You're just a sheltered little boy, you don't scare me.” -Which was a lie, because he scared you–he scared you a lot.

“You will change your tune with time.” He muttered back with one last dab of his tongue on your bleeding cut. “I tried to ease you into loving me, but you just can't get over that wretched simple-mindedness of yours. We'll have to work on that before the ceremony.” With one last hard squeeze, he finally dropped your head from his grip and let you slump, pained, to the ground. As he stood, you lashed out and tried to sweep his leg out from under him, but he avoided it with ease and just glared down at your pathetic form.

A soft knock at your door brought the tension to a halt; you raised your head, hopeful, yearning for whoever was opening your door to see Phainon's cruelty and save you from it. The long, white locks of Castorice, the mortician whom you didn't know very well, floated through as she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. The hope was quick to drain from your spirit as she walked over to Phainon and looked down on you with him, the two of them speaking in hushed whispers with each other without ever sparing you a glance.

“C-Castorice-” Finally, she turned her icy gaze towards you and stripped away your defenses with nothing but her chilling, near-demonic aura. Your body started growing cold, and Phainon murmured some false reassurance, but you couldn't hear anything but your own heart thumping as the rest of the world froze out of your mind. Eventually, all the connection you shared was the heavy stare Castorice held with you, before she raised a finger and hovered the tip of her nail above your forehead.

“It will be painless.” She whispered in an echo of a thousand voices. The press of her finger to your skin was unbearably frigid for only a moment–and then, in the silence, your heart ceased its reckless beating in your ears while the world turned cold and black.

“Phainon! Phainon's back! C'mooon, hurry up!”

“Okay, okay!” You laughed as you were dragged along by the gaggle of children at your knees. The kids were high-spirited in the face of any circumstances, it seemed like, but even moreso when their favourite hero was returning from an epic journey.

Phainon, the white-haired hero of Okhem and beyond, was the subject of many stories and whispers between the people of your city–and for good reason. He was a kind, fair, and loving man who was as friendly as his wit was quick. Even when hanging around Mydeimos, who was a characteristically brutal man with a near-nonexistent sense of humour, Phainon could make light of any situation and see the good in any person he met.

It was no secret that he was popular with the ladies too, for all those reasons and even more. You could go to any corner of the city and find a man swimming in muscles, you could find confident men and smart men and ones who were as handsome as the gods themselves. But Phainon had every piece of that puzzle and it made him irresistible to just about everyone that met him. And of course, that included you, too.

You had a special connection with Phainon that, despite contradicting your rather simple existence in Okhem, acted as a source of jealousy for the hero's other admirers who hoped to be noticed by the endlessly charismatic (future) godslayer. Before you'd settled into your life in the city, something awful had befallen you that, to this day, you had no memory of. In fact, your memories from before the incident were all bleary and incomprehensible; your first moment of waking up had been spent in agony, your body aching as you'd been caught and wounded in the midst of a skirmish with Nikador's forces. In the fire and chaos that ensued, you were certain you were going to die, frightened and alone. But before you could, a man with snow-white hair had appeared and slayed the enemies pursuing you–and from that day on, it was history.

Phainon had been your hero when you needed him most, and now, you had a second chance at life because of his bravery. As the kids dragged you to the bathhouse, you stumbled somewhat but still maintained your cheerful demeanour–it was only when you got to the top of the steps that the waterfall parted on its own, and the man himself stepped out like a god emerging from a sacred lake. The kids rushed him, he laughed and humoured their excited questions, but through it all he had his attention focused on you until he could manage to part the youngsters and make his way to where you stood.

“I missed you,” He grinned, and leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. You'd always thought it was an odd greeting for friends, but once Castorice gently informed you that it was simply the custom of Phainon's people, you accepted it without batting an eye. “I hope the children haven't worn you out while I've been gone.”

“You worry too much.” You returned his smile and patted one of the young ones who hadn't left your side, her eyes wide and sweet as she clung shyly to your leg. Phainon had helped you get a job working with the children of Okhem as their mentor, and as tiring as it could often be, there was no greater sight than seeing the new generation flourish under your care and gentle countenance. Besides, Phainon took so well to the little ones–you had no doubt that fatherhood was one of the many goals he strived for.

“May I have a moment alone with your teacher, little one?” He knelt down and asked her kindly, his confident yet gentle tone easing her off of you while you directed her to go play with the other children in the baths. Phainon was quick to lead you away from the other admirers fiending for his attention around the entrance to the bathhouse, into a quiet alley where few people would eavesdrop on your conversation. From his sleeve he produced a small, yellow flower, and your cheeks warmed as he delicately pressed it into your palm as a gift. He always brought home little trinkets like this, and you treasured each and every one of them as they granted you a lingering sense of nostalgia.

“Oh, this is lovely, Phainon.” You sighed with reverence, clutching the flower to your chest. “Thank you. I hope you didn't strain yourself just to get a gift for me, you know you don't have to.”

He shook his head with a chuckle. “It's because I love seeing how happy they make you. I love yow grateful you are for my gifts..” He trailed off and stared deeply into your eyes, a question pressing at his lips. “I have something to ask you, my sweet.”

“You do?” He nodded. Phainon plucked the flower from your hands and tucked it behind your ear, before taking both your sweaty palms in his and getting down on his knees.

“You see, I…I've been in love with you since the day we met. Since the first moment I watched you stagger out of that ship-” Wait…what? “-I knew you were destined to be mine.”

“You..?” As tempted as you were to ask what he meant, what ‘ship’ he spoke of, you let him continue. And how fortunate it was, as Phainon took it as a sign that his wooing was in full swing, and beamed up at you with the most glorious joy.

“Yes! Yes, I do. I want only to give you a comfortable life–I want to part the clouds so the sun shines on you always.” With your encouragement he climbed to his feet to meet your gaze. He was friendly, and jubilant, but you'd rarely ever seen him so blindly excited; it was pure and innocent, and as tightly as he clutched your hands and as odd as some of his words were phrased, you couldn't bear to pull away from him during such a crucial moment.

“I don't…I don't know what to say, I-” Out of nowhere, a cold sense of dread made its way into your heart, and despite your befuddlement as to why it settled there it refused to let up. Your mouth grew drier as you tried to speak, but eventually Phainon helped you.

“Say yes?” He pleaded with glistening blue eyes, tears threatening to spill against the backdrop of his hopeful smile. “Please?”

“I-I..” You swallowed the growing anxiety that choked you up, and without words, you nodded.

“You'll be mine?” He prodded eagerly, and again you mumbled a soft ‘yes’. Phainon leapt to his feet and practically cheered with joy, slinging his arms around you to lift you off your feet and twirl you around. He laughed, and happy tears made their way down his cheeks, before he planted a cool, wet kiss on your mouth that somehow chilled you right down to the bone.

The guilt, the fear, the unease that grew inside you would all come to a head at some point. But the truth could be so easily twisted, cut up and rearranged to fit the story he wanted to play out. There wasn't any urgency aside from his own impatience, and not a single one of his fellow heroes or the demigods could judge what he did when it propelled him leaps and bounds closer to slaying Nikador. There would come a day when you would uncover his lies, just as surely as the sun would set at dusk and rise in the dawn.

But what difference did it make? He had so much time to clear your mind to a blank slate, and conjure up a new life for the two of you as many times as it takes.

#phainon #phainon x reader #honkai star rail #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #ellie writes #yandere fic #4k

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asxgard · 3 months ago

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Companionship | pt. 1

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!reader

| Next

Series Summary: He’s not sure how he got here, perhaps it’s the aching loneliness or the overwhelming stress. You’re there because it seems like easy money and you have a pushy friend. All in all, it’s a good deal — he gets the companionship he’s after, no strings, and you get your utility bills paid on time. It’s pretty simple, easy, until your arrangement bleeds into something a bit more…complicated.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: Me?? Coming off hiatus?? Bit nervous about this one, but I’m jumping right in lol not sure how long this’ll be. Struggled between making it a reader fic or making an oc, but here we are.

Takes place prior to The Pitt.

Word Count: 1.7k (they’ll likely be longer going forward — just needed to lay the groundwork)

Warnings: BIG age gap omg (roughly 18 years even after I aged Robby down a bit, ~44), foul language, ptsd mentions, mentions of sex work, descriptions of hospitals/patients and brief mentions of violence at said hospital, mild dubious consent later on (like barely), eventual sexual content (afab!reader), angst, mutual pining, mentions of difference in power dynamic, medical errors bc I am a simple bitch, Dr Robby lacking some emotional intelligence/bottled up feelings. (Also you go to school for accounting and have two named friends). Slowburn. Mature themes.

This is not a promotion of such gaps or sugar daddies in general — it was just an idea I had and I couldn’t get it out of my head. Dr Robby seems like a good man, so I doubt would actually seek out such a relationship, but I have no doubt that that man is lonely and stressed as hell lol and this is my fic soooo

not beta read

Michael Robinavitch really had no idea how he had ended up in this situation, sat in that little cafe miles away from his normal stomping grounds. There was the obvious — getting on the subway and physically walking into the building, but the events that led him there nearly made him stand and walk back out.

It had started with a patient he’d had several weeks prior; a man not much older than himself, who had no family, and money to burn. The pretty woman who had come to visit was out of his league, painfully so, but she had sat diligently by his bedside and comforted him while the residents ran all the necessary tests. When she had slipped out of the room to make a phone call, the man had boasted.

His once complicated relationship with Heather Collins aside, Dr. Robby usually found such age gaps problematic and messy; a man looking to take advantage of such a gap or a woman looking to gain monetarily, or both. In his experience, it was rarely pure intentions — but what the man had gone on to explain after a confused look of one of the residents, was they weren’t in a relationship. They weren’t even having sex. He was simply paying for a beautiful woman’s companionship. No complex relationship, no true illegal activity or prostitution; just a busy man and an uncomplicated solace.

“Not really even a sugar daddy,” the patient had explained to Dr. Robby and Perlah, doped up on pain meds, “though it’s a fine comparison.”

What two grown adults got up to in their free time was their own business, the patient’s voice rang in Robby’s head, and if a man likes to spoil his lover or his friend, then that’s not illegal.

His heart thumped anxiously in his chest. This was only going to be a distraction, one completely unconnected to Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center and that would be a breath of fresh air. Besides, if this turned out to be a complete disaster, he could just go on with his life. No changes.

—

You took the long way to the cafe, anxiety eating at your insides. Why had you allowed Erin to convince you this was a good idea? It had seemed harmless at the start — laughing and joking with Erin while you downloaded the app, talking to a handful of guys looking to spoil you. Eventually settling on one particularly reserved man (which you found mildly endearing) and securing a “first date”. It had been thrilling. It had even been fun.

At least while it was all over the phone. Now it was real and you had such an urge to turn around and run for the hills.

University was expensive, and between clocking in as many hours at your office job and still staying on track with your classes, you still found that rent was hard to keep up with. Erin had found you in a state of distress over a bowl of cheap ramen, explaining quite plainly what she did to supplement her income. It seemed like it would be too easy. Erin told you she didn’t start out with anything sexual, mostly just spending time with lonely older men and keeping them company.

It turns sexual only if you want it to, but the pay can be better, was the only relief that echoed in your head. The control lies with you, and never let that change.

It only calmed you slightly — that, and the fact that if this date went terribly, or in a way that you became uncomfortable, you could call it all off. He didn’t have your number, or any personal information, only your first name. No arrangements had been made or agreed to, and you found comfort in it. You thought to go in and just get it over with, return back to your apartment and tell Erin: “It’s just not for me.”

Maybe you could pick up DoorDashing instead.

Before opening the door to the cafe, you quickly sent your location to Erin and sent a text to Marsi about coming by to study in a few hours.

You were instantly hit with the calming aroma of coffee once inside, though you felt too jittery to order any. You settled on decaf tea before turning to the tables on the far side of the cafe. You wondered if he was on time, or if you would instead pick the table. Maybe he won’t show.

You caught sight of him almost immediately and it made your heart jump with a renewed sense of anxiety. He was here. He was here.

His eyes were on his own cup, though you knew they were brown from his picture. His hairline was only slightly receding, with his hair thinning slightly atop his head, plenty of laugh lines adorning his face and a thick beard that held several grey hairs. His features seemed scrunched up in thought, dark brows pulled together. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive, part of the reason you had accepted his request in the first place. If you were going to do this, it wasn’t going to be with someone you could barely look at. You could fake a lot of things, but genuine interest was not one of them.

“Michael?” You asked softly, hand on the back of the chair opposite him.

He looked up and gave a stiff smile, before confirming your name.

You smiled back at him, nodding. You pulled the seat back and sat with slow, calculated movements. Feeling his eyes on you made you swallow thickly, nerves running a rampage through your insides.

Erin had coached you, explained good questions to ask to suss out the bad ones, plus her own advice as to what she looked for and what was a red flag. All the advice seemed to flow right out of your head.

“How are you?” You asked, thumb tracing over the lid of your tea.

He huffed a small laugh, “I’m…fine.” A pause. “Look, I’ve never done this and I don’t—”

Relief pooled through your insides, though the nerves held strong. “Well, at least that makes two of us.”

His brown eyes met yours, seemingly surprised. He swallowed.

Maybe he was looking for direction.

Your eyes flickered to your tea and back again. “So, can I ask what made you sign up in the first place?”

He leaned back in his chair and cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah,” his expression suddenly turned uncomfortable, his left cheek scrunched up almost in a wince. “I’m just looking for some…companionship.”

Perhaps he was embarrassed.

You nodded, taking a slow sip of your hot tea. “Anything specific?”

His eyes flickered up to meet your gaze and he blinked. His eyebrows rose, “Nothing sexual,” he said, voice dropping into a whisper at the last word. “Just someone to listen, call and talk to, I suppose.”

Your heart stopped racing. “No interest in a girlfriend?”

“I’m too busy for that.” Though it seemed more like a deflection.

You watched him curiously, raising a brow, “Alright. Something like a friend, then?”

He considered it. “Someone unconnected to my life.”

—

He said unconnected, but he meant not worried about my wellbeing. He dealt with too many people asking how he was, too concerned with the past. He needed someone that let him breathe, someone he could reach out to on his own terms with no strings attached. Someone who wouldn’t pry, someone who would not be offended by his long silences and his avoidance of talking about his emotions. Someone who doesn’t look at me like I’m damaged.

“More like a companion.” He explained, elaborating, “I need someone who can give me more space than a friend would, who’s okay if we don’t talk for days at a time. Something easy and uncomplicated.”

“Ah, I understand.”

At least he didn’t sound insane. He had a few friends, but he frequently felt like he was putting on an “I’m okay” mask whenever he was around them. He didn’t want to wear that mask with just one person.

“Yeah,” he bit the inside of his cheek, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “What is it you’re looking for?”

You smiled, adding to the warmth of your face. You were beautiful, with pretty eyes and hair pulled out of your face. Far too out of his league, and young. Your profile showed an age that put you at nearly eighteen years apart. But, a corner of his mind whispered, it’ll be nice to have a beautiful woman’s attention.

“A bit of a distraction myself,” you told him, pursing your lips. “I’ve been quite stressed with school and it’ll be nice to not think about all that from time-to-time.” Then you smiled. “And maybe get some help paying my utility bill.”

He chuckled, soft and quiet, matching the grin on your face. “What do you go to school for?”

“Accounting,” you answered after a beat. “I’m working on my masters. What do you do for work?”

“I’m a doctor.” He said, careful to not elaborate much more. He was proud of his position, but he wanted whatever this was going to be to be completely separate from his professional life.

You seemed to understand, not asking any follow up questions that most people might have asked.

After only a handful more questions, you seemed satisfied. He asked about allowance, and your expectations, and found you would be a fine fit for each other. He felt a strange calmness overcome him as your conversation melded into small talk.

When you excused yourself to leave, you explained you wanted a day or two to sit on it. You expressed it wasn’t him, but the situation at hand that you wanted to think about. It brought comfort to him, knowing you were both a fish out of water in this situation.

Michael left the cafe feeling lighter than when he had entered, taking a long walk back home — silently deliberating. You were easy enough to talk to, and seemed to understand right away when to ask questions and when not to pry. You weren’t asking for anything outlandish in return, or even looking to make a living this way, only needing some help to finish school. He understood that, Pittsburgh wasn’t the most expensive city someone could live in, but add in school loans and he could see why you turned to supplemental income, as you had put it.

By nightfall, he’d received a message though the app hidden in a locked folder on his phone.

It was your number.

[ Next ]

#michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #female reader #the pitt #dr robby #michael robinavitch x female reader #michael robinavitch x you #michael robinavitch/reader #michael robinavitch/you #dr robby x reader #companionship series #asxgard writes

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etfrin · 2 years ago

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❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ higher with my lover — coriolanus snow ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞

☆　Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), riding, handjob, mentions of blood & blood sucking, Capitol! Reader, reader is mentioned to be a virgin, mentions of poison and death, district+lucy gray slander (necessary to the plot), mention of Sejanus, degradation & praise kink if you squint, dry humping | lmk if I missed anything!

☆　Pairing: fem! Reader x young! peacekeeper! Coriolanus Snow

☆　Summary: Lucy Gray left but you find him in the forest instead and shit goes down

☆　A/N: this fic is inspired by the fact that i imagined myself to be the one sucking the 'poisoned bite' and be like now we both die and i like you lmao, i hope you guys like it!

Ps. This is the official canon ending :D

Ps². Listened to this song mainly to write the smut, so i am just gonna leave it here. . .

| masterlist | taglist | bc: @cafekitsune |

“Lucy Gray! Are you trying to kill me!?”

Coriolanus Snow yelled as he kept pointing the gun in random directions. It wasn't long after that he began shooting in the sky causing the murder of numerous mockingjays up in the air.

He had found the necklace, he had found the scarf. She left. She was a loose end. She needs to die, fucking die so Snow could have the life he deserved. The life he worked for, the life he was entitled to since birth. The life of a Snow.

“Lucy Gray! We can talk about this!” He yells out, “Just come out!” But Lucy Gray was nowhere to be found, as if she was a ghost. As if she was the Lucy Gray from the song, a mystery to never be found.

He pointed his gun in the direction where he heard the sound of a twig snapping. It wasn't Lucy Gray but you. Your eyes were wide, chest heaving as you slowly walked towards him with your hands raised. “Coryo,” you whispered, scared, your feet walking towards him with hesitation but never flattering.

He had no idea how you had found him. He wasn't sure why you were either here. It was already too much for him that Sejanus came (and now he is dead, dead, dead. The third person he had killed). And you followed him too, pulling in favors, deciding to be a medic along with Sejanus, serving time with your best friends (not his, he never considered you or Sej as his friend).

“Where's Lucy Gray!?” He yelled, walking towards you, gun still pointed. It makes you walk backward until your back hits the hard bark of a tree. The rough texture of the bark is uncomfortable due to your thin shirt. You scrunch your nose at the mention of her. You never liked her much. He didn't know why but perhaps it was all a ruse just for this very moment. This very betrayal from her.

“How would I know?” You scoffed, the haughty attitude of a Capitol citizen coming through despite having a gun pointed at you. He pressed the end of the gun at your chest. “Tell me the truth,” he growled. “That girl tried to poison me. Tell me where she is!”

“I don't know,” you hiss back, your eyes ablaze. “And get the gun out of my face. You should be heading to a fucking medic right now. Are you sure she poisoned you?” Your voice was now laced with concern, eyes softening as you looked at him, his t-shirt clinging to him with sweat, his cheeks flushed, eyes so wide that the blues were hidden with black instead.

Coryo gets the gun away from you to put his arm forward. Showing you his snake bite, the puncture wound oozing out beads of red blood on his snow-like skin. “It's probably non-poisonous,” you said, trying to sound optimistic.

“No, it's not!” He growls, and anger fills in every movement and word of his. “She's trying to kill me. She's district! I shouldn't have- shouldn't have-” You hold his arm, your fingers around his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“It's fine,” you whispered, trying your best that the tone you use with him is soft and gentle. You want to shake him out of the mental breakdown that was happening. He shakes his head and you press your fingertips into the wound.

“It's fine,” you whispered, “let's get you back. Come on.” You try to urge him forward, only for him to pull himself out of your grasp. “No! I need to find her. She's a loose end. She will tell. She's a snake, not a songbird,” he rambles.

Despite the confusion you felt with his words, you grit your teeth. “Come on, Coryo! We need to head back,” you said, your hand on his wrist, trying to drag him out of the middle of the green forest.

“No! We need to find her out before the poison works” he yells, pulling you back and pushing you. Pinning you effectively between him and a tree.

You glare at him before a moment of impulsivity takes over you. You take his arm, your mouth around the bleeding wound and you suck letting whatever ‘poisoned blood’ onto your tongue. His eyes widen as he sees the redness of his blood now painting your lips. “Now can we go back?” You said as you licked the blood clean. “Because if it's poison, we will both die.”

“Why would-” he visibly freezes. He doesn't want your blood on his hands. No- it would be on Lucy's hands. It's her fault. Everything is her fault. “Why would you do that?” He whispered, leaning closer to you, his face now mere inches away from yours. It was like he was seeing you for the first time. Like he never saw you for you until now. Someone like him. Unhinged (not that he's willing to admit it).

He hooks his fingers under your chin, holding your jaw and tilting your lips towards his. His eyes were searching for sanity but seemed to have found none as a smile (filled with insanity) spread on his face. “You're crazy,” he whispered, “Are you that desperate?”

“Desperate for your well-being, Coryo,” you whispered, hating the fact that your gaze fell on his soft-looking lips. “I don't know what's wrong, Coriolanus. But come with me, let's go back. Lucy Gray isn't worth anything.”

“Lucy Gray is worth everything!” He yelled, pressing his body with yours, pain in your bones flaring as he without noticing crushed you.

“I am sure she will have poison for you too. I am sure she will come back then,” you spit out. You felt outrageous at his behavior. “She ran, didn't she? To the North. You gonna go there too, Coryo?” you questioned, your eyes now meeting his. You try to find an answer but find something deeply tangled instead, neither a yes or a no.

You never felt such pity for Coriolanus Snow before as you did now. You put your palm on his cheek. “Come with me,” you said, softening your voice. “Back to the peacekeepers, the general told me about District 2 and I can put in favors so we can be back in the Capitol in no time.”

“You didn't choose Sejanus,” you whispered, the mention of Sej causing him to freeze. “Choose me,” you plead, feeling pathetic for being reduced to this. But it was for your Coryo so it was worth it. Wasn't it?

A chip from the bird makes him look away but you use your hand to make him face you again. Tears begin to pool in your eyes. You find your heart preparing itself for a rejection. “Choose me,” you choke out, a sob in your throat ready to come out when he says no, no, no Lucy Gray it is, never you.

You wait and wait for the rejection, your eyelids closing themselves so he doesn't see himself (or the way you looked at him with love) in the reflective tears. “Look at me,” he whispered, feeling his hot breath on your lips now. And you didn't want to listen but your eyes opened back up, light coming in and he's in your sight.

All glorious as you always thought of Snow.

Snow lands on top.

Haven't every Capitol child learned that from history? You were no exception. And you never planned to be. Even after finding out the truth about his situation, you never thought less of him, if anything everything you felt about him increased tenfold without your consent. Oh, how you should hate him. Oh, but how much you love him.

He leaned in and you didn't move. He stops for a mere second as if reconsidering his decision. But then decided to fuck it because the next thing you know his lips against yours.

He tasted like cheap alcohol, he tasted like ruin and danger. You ate it all up by parting your lips so his tongue could slip in. You let out a moan as his teeth bite into your lips. For a moment you think he's a snake and that he's the one poisoning you. His poison is more potent than an actual snake’s ever could be.

You were simple prey, that's it. Instead of a bullet, he was shooting your heart with a kiss. And it was working because in the future he will be the end of you. A slow, slow poison, he controlled the kiss despite the way his tongue slid against yours was clumsy but so perfect.

You kissed him back to the best of your abilities, wondering briefly if you tasted like the pastry you had in the morning. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth to suck and bite however he wants. Your hands find his buzz cut instead of his golden curls and a whine leaves your lips from the frustration of the loss.

Your hand is on his nape and another is still on his cheek as neither of you breaks the kiss. It didn't matter that you were getting lightheaded. It didn't matter that you could feel your heartbeat increasing due to lack of oxygen. He was everything, you would be damned if you broke the kiss.

You gasp as the kiss is broken. You stare into his eyes, searching for something, anything. But you find nothing but ice blue. It sent chills down your spine but at least he had calmed down now. “Feeling better?” You asked and you got a rough nod as a reply.

“Come on, we have work to do,” he whispered as he pulled back. His dog tag dangles as he begins to walk towards the cabin again, navigating the path with his father's compass.

You find the cabin and the guns. Coriolanus looks at you waiting for a protest, disgust, expecting you to run away just like Lucy Gray. You didn't do anything except sigh, your shoulder wearing down as you realized the truth of it all. You didn't say a word but your hand finds his. He doesn't say anything either but squeezes your hand back. An unspoken promise. He had chosen you. You had chosen him. You were in this together now.

There's no going back.

Both of you row the boat and let the guns sink into the river, never to be found again. You find your way back to the cabin, the rain pouring down again. You sit beside Snow- no, no, still Coryo. Always Coryo. Your head on his shoulder, your knees pressed to your chest as you hear the tip tap of rain outside.

Not a single sound is made. But as time passes and the rain doesn't stop, you begin to crave his lips again. As if that one kiss was morphine, and you needed more to heal the ache of your soul. “Coriolanus,” you whispered.

“Coryo,” he reprimanded softly, his tone enticing as if he was trying to bewitch. You feel your palms sweat as embarrassment begins to nag your mind. You blurt it out before you can think about how pathetic you sound.

“Can I have another kiss, Coryo?”

The next few moments were a blur. Lips on lips. Clumsily tongues meeting each other and whining into each other's mouths. You were shamelessly grinding on Coryo's lap as your lips continued to stay locked with his. “I want you so bad,” you admit as you feel his cock harden underneath you.

“Since the academy,” you whispered against his lips, a moan escaping your lips when he held your hips and began to guide them to grind on his completely hard bulge.

“Oh, yeah?” He mocks, “It's pretty fucking obvious.” He choked off a groan coming out of his mouth, “You're willing to let go of the fact that I am a murderer, huh?” You let out a whimper as he mentioned that. But both of you knew the answer to that, a part of you knew what kind of predator he was. Ever since you knew about how he killed a tribute, you just called it. It never mattered to you how horrible he could be or in this case, is.

“Yes, yes,” you moan into his mouth. Was it an answer or a mere whine about how perfect the friction felt against your pantie-soaked pussy? You didn't know but Coriolanus thought of it as the former. “You gonna be my girl, then? A capitol princess being a peacekeepers’ doll to fuck,” he whispered, his tongue licking a strip of skin on your neck.

You moan as his teeth begin to harshly assault your skin, covering your neck with marks. “Yes,” you gasp, “as long as it's you.” God, how much more pathetic could you be? But it didn't matter, it got him higher and fed his ego after everything that had happened. He loved it and perhaps, he could grow to love you.

Not in the way, Coryo loved Lucy Gray but in the way Snow would love his First Lady.

Your hands tug off his wet t-shirt and throw it on the floor. His hands do the same with your peacekeeper's uniform. He grabs your hips, squeezing the plump of flesh there, his mouth panting into you and he looks at you with dilated eyes.

Time seems to have slowed down as you touch his dog tag, your fingers tracing the name carved into the metal. “I want this. You, right now, right here,” you whispered like it was the biggest secret of your life. “Do you?” You ask as your hands go lower to fiddle with the zipper of his pants.

He doesn't give you a verbal answer, only pulling you into another kiss with his fingers woven into your hair in a fist as his free hand goes down below to free his cock from the confines of his trousers.

You grip his length, stroking it and squeezing out pearly pre-cum from the tip. You savor the deep groan that leaves his lips. “Fuck… just like that, doll,” he instructed and you obey. Your strokes get faster and his pre becomes natural lube as you continue. He lets out a hiss when you twist your wrist and his hand snares around your wrist. “Wanna cum in your cunt first,” he said, breathless from the ecstasy of having your hands on him.

Within moments the remaining clothes on both of you were scattered around the cabin. You moan into his mouth, your fingers desperately clawing at his shoulders as you begin to grind your soaking wet pussy against his hard cock. You gasp, elated by how your folds pressed against his length, his cockhead being teased by your slit but unable to breach the threshold.

The kisses you shared with him were sloppy. Saliva coating his chin as neither of you was willing to separate your lips for a single unnecessary moment. You knew your lips would hurt by the end of this, that they were swollen and the inside of it bleeding because of how insistently his teeth loved to bite your lower lip. He was no better either. You tasted more blood from the kisses now than anything, and it didn't matter to you because somehow the salty, rusty taste felt like just him.

You let out a sound unfitting of a Capitol-raised woman when his cockhead slips inside your gummy walls. His tip now profusely leaks pre-cum inside your gummy walls. You pulled back, biting your lower lip to stop the whimper as you feel his cockhead stretching out your virgin walls.

“That's it, dove,” he lets out, all needy and heated. His hands squeeze your hips to be encouraging as you let yourself down on his cock slowly. “Take it all in. You can do it, doll,” he whispered, as his eyes were down looking at his length entering you, being surrounded by the wicked, addicting warmth of your tight cunt.

“I can?” You let out a whine, as the pain bleeds into the pleasure, the ratio of it throwing you off the dizzy full lust. He hums in encouragement as you finally fill yourself with his dick to the hilt. Your slick walls pulsate around his length.

“Atta girl,” he smiles at you, his eyes brightening up from how well you took him and without any complaints whatsoever. “That's a good slut,” he whispered and smirked when he felt your walls clench around him deliciously.

You tried to move your hips but gave up when the burn made your eyes water. He coos at you encouragingly, telling you to adjust to his girth first. He wasn't going to rut into you like a dog, you're a Capitol girl, not a district whore. He wasn't going to disrespect you like that, no matter how much he wanted you to begin rolling your hips.

So your lips latch onto his neck, while your arms are around him and your legs around his waist. You were clinging to him, as if afraid that if you ease up in your grip he will fade away from your life, from this moment and your reality together. The smell of sex and sweat begins to become stronger than the smell of gunpowder as you continue to give him hickeys in various places on his skin.

Coriolanus doesn't complain that you're marking him like this, not when he's doing the same task with his tongue tracing the love bites his teeth left. And you suspect he rather enjoys when you bite, as his cock twitches whenever your teeth dig into his flesh as if you're eating and your wet tongue licks over the bite as if you're tasting the flavor of his skin.

When you're finally comfortable with his cock being inside the most intimate part of you. You slowly but surely begin to make small, shallow thrusts that have you gasping, your eyes rolling back with how good it feels already because he was fucking into your g-spot with every roll of your hips. The thrusts were teasing, it had him groaning praises of you being a good girl and his hold tightening over your hips, surely leaving bruises.

You begin to relish the feeling of being stuffed, his cockhead kissing your cervix when you get the angle just right. Your folds coat him with your creamy juices, a ring of white forming on his base with how wet you were. Slowly but surely the pleasure begins to build up, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to put up force with the way you rock back and forth on his cock.

You pant into his mouth, your lips letting out sharp moans when his dick strokes your walls just right. He lets you control the pace, his mouth busy latching onto your nipple to suck. His tongue swirls around the bud, hardening it inside his mouth and he nips your nipple just to have you jolt from the bite and squeeze down on his cock.

One of his hands now kneads the other breast he wasn't giving much attention to, his fingers rolling the nipple, pinching the bud, and playing with it. His other hand goes between your bodies and finds your clit. You soon realize he was working with a pattern that was driving you insane, turning your cunt into a hotter slicker mess.

When he swirled his tongue around your nipple, his fingers did roll the other bud. Meanwhile, his thumb would drive small, rapid circles onto your swollen bundle of nerves. When he bit into your nipple, his fingers pinched your clit making you gasp with thunderous pleasure filling your veins.

He continues at this and tension begins to build up in your tummy. You close your eyes as animalistic instincts begin to take over your body. The need to cum overrides everything else as you begin to roll your hips faster and harder. Desperate to cum around his cock for the first time of many times in your life. He feels the same way because he encourages you with his hips bucking into you, thrusting perfectly inside of your slick walls.

“So close, Coryo!” You moan, your nails leaving red lines in their path on his shoulders. He latches off your breasts to whisper, “Cum then, my slut. Let me feel you milk my cock like a good cockwhore would.” You let out a louder moan at his words. His condescending tone snaps the tension that had formed in your tummy, you begin to cum.

Your pussy spasming around his cock, triggering his orgasm. He empties his balls inside of you without any hesitation, filling you up with his thick, hot cum. “That's a good girl. Look how well you took me. Look at the cum leaking out, dove,” his tone teasing, like many times he has teased in classes but the context of this was entirely different.

You look down, your pussy clenching around his cock again when you see his seed ooze out of you. Your body slumps into him, tired from all of this. Both mentally and physically. The storm was still going on. You lay in his arms, his cum now coating the insides of your thighs.

“You're smarter than Lucy Gray,” he said, “I pray you know better than to run. I won't miss the next time.”

You shake your head, trying to hide the smile forming on your face. Others would have run from his words, anyone sane would. Lucy Gray did after all. But you were just you.

“If I wanted to run, I wouldn't have found you in the first place,” you whispered, sealing your words with a soft kiss on his lips.

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy @littlebiwitchsworld @eir964

@skywalker1dream @darkangelkathiecookiesmith @ben-has-arrived @bucksdonkey @xyzstar @ellie-luvsfics @sunny-deary @daughter1of2anita3dearly @eir964 @nowsyhozey @ayaya-aa @serving-targaryen-realness @hansbasement @louweasleymalfoy @lettersandwhiteroses @arzua10 @wotcherpeak @ever8ea @daughter-of-the-stars11 @blippys-blog @iguanagwen @moonlight-by-the-sea @snowlandstop @badbleep88 @hobireasns @floswife @weeeoosworld @ludasgf

@sushirolliee @poppyflower-22 @dilucpegg3r @sleepysongbirdsings @cupids-scream-queen @fyhhuu

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jayden-killer · 3 months ago

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Don't let me go. ‹𝟹

Eddie pushes away his need of affection. That is, until he meets you.

warnings: ig angst to fluff(?), reader is fem bc yes, al munson mention lmao.

Eddie needed affection.

Having someone cuddling him is what he has always wanted; however, never admitted, especially since his mother passed away. He doesn’t need a maternal figure, far from it. Growing up, this need is repressed over time, inculcating this idea that it is not necessary because he can live without it. Yet this desire resurfaces in front of couples who embrace, holding hands, sharing their personal space. After all, he doesn’t need it.

He’s a freak.

Who would ever want to be next to a freak? A person who will never succeed in life? Who may end up like his father?

He cannot cope with the discomfort in his heart, so he tries to repress it once again.

And again.

That was his belief until he met you. It wasn’t a chance meeting at all. One of his teachers had said that he needed a tutor. His school grades were not stable, not to mention the poor attention he paid to almost every class. He would never have expected his tutor to be the most beautiful, kind person in the world.

Date after date, you have opened to each other, sharing a comfortable silence.

Your relationship started after 4 months of seeing each other; everything was going well. One of those days, Eddie thought it would be nice to invite you into his trailer, stating that his uncle would come back late to catch up on some overdue hours.

So you found yourself in the heat, on his poorly groomed sofa, focused on the vision of the musical The Rocky Horror Picture Show. One of Eddie’s favourite movies.

"Love?"

"Mh?"

"Do you really...wanna hold my hand?"

His girlfriend’s eyes were confused. "Why would I be bothered by it, Teddy?"

Teddy. God, he loved her when he called him that.

Eddie met her eyes and thought for a moment to lie, but... did it make sense? Was it really worth lying? What if she knew about it? She knew that her beloved had a good intuition. He also knew that women did not miss anything and would not get away with it easily.

So, with a deep sigh, he played with his girlfriend’s fingers and confessed everything. His feeling of repulsion towards love, of inequality, how he had always tried to fool him and how he was not...worthy.

"Eddie..." The girl’s fingers squeezed more of hers. "I must admit, I suspected it."

Eddie raised his eyebrows. Good sense, indeed. "How?" he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. "You weren’t very convinced when I hugged you in public on certain occasions or when I kissed you on the stairs of the school. You looked... tense. I knew something was wrong."

On Eddie passed a feeling of shame.

What a shithead, he began to think.

"And I understand how you feel. Sometimes it happens to me too, and it will definitely never be the same feeling as yours, but..." The girl caressed his cheek, gently swiping her thumb up and down, "you have to start believing it. Also, you don’t really believe all that crap going around about you? Unsubstantiated bullshit by ignorant people?" They both chuckled.

"Right," said Eddie, still smiling. "Maybe I just have to believe it a little bit more." He paused, this time stroking her cheek. " I have to work on it. It won’t happen immediately, but...with time"

"With time," she repeated. She silently got closer to him, as if she wanted to kiss him, but fearing that she might bother him. Eddie appreciated the gesture.

"You mustn’t think it bothers me. I love it. I love to feel your lips on mine." He gave her a quick kiss and took her cheeks in his hands.

Eddie memorized every detail of her wonderful face, with red cheeks and eyes that conveyed security and love. "Okay?"

She nodded, smiling. "Okay. I’ll be by your side the whole time. If you ever need to talk about it again, you know I’m here for that."

"I know, baby. I know. I don’t know how to thank you yet."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "10 dollars an hour for each psychological counseling."

Eddie threw his hands in the air. "This is a burglary without a gun! I’m already broke, then you go too!"

The two spent the evening laughing, enjoying the movie, and Eddie seemed to have a lighter weight on his shoulders. At least for now.

☆

taglist: @justalotoffanfiction

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn eddie munson #angst #eddie munson x reader angst #fluff #angst to fluff #stranger things headcanons #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n

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awaxagoras · 12 days ago

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something something office au eheheh :3 amphoreus has infected my brain so ! phainon [ mydei and anaxa were supposed to be in this too , but it got too long and now im embarrassed . next post . trust me ] ALSO . . not really intentional but this is slightly yan coded . I love freaks sowwy (⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝)

okiii so hear me out abt office au [ I don’t have anything specific in mind so the details are up to you lol ] ur job isn’t anything special but it pays the bills . typical office position . replying to emails , making copies , organizing ur boss’ schedule , etc etc . gets intense sometimes considering how high you’ve climbed up the ranks , but it’s nothing you can’t handle

you haven’t met him yet , but you’ve heard a lot about the newest employee . despite the recency of his arrival , it sounds like he has already gained the respect of not only your coworkers , but the people above you , too . he was the one to initiate your first meeting , actually [ you feel kinda bad about not seeking him out first , but he doesn’t seem to mind ]

abruptly stops the elevator door from closing one morning before stepping inside with you [ it’s kinda weird that he never glances at button panel (ᵕ—ᴗ—) ] introduces himself as phainon , smiling brightly at you and politely offering his hand to shake [ his grip seems slightly firmer than it needs to be , but it’s probably just due to his extroverted nature ] he briefly tells you about his transfer from his old company to this one before imploring about you . once you get to your floor , he unexpectedly follows you to your desk . what a coincidence ! he’s on this floor , too ! ( ◠‿◠ ) nice decorations , by the way ! [ . . does he need to lean so close to you to look at them ? ] maybe you could help decorate his desk sometime haha [ more under the cut bc I yapped too much sowwy ]

his own work station is across the room from yours but that doesn’t seem to stop him from going straight to you whenever he has a question [ you had heard about this guy’s achievements and the whispers that he was the perfect employee . why is he asking you about the photocopier ? and why does it feel like he’s not really listening ? (•᷄‎_•᷅ ) ] you swear he’s always in the break room at the same time , too . haha wow another coincidence ! it’s like you meant to be or something haha . . [ he’s not really joking ] you can’t pinpoint when it happened , but he’s gotten your drink preferences down to a science . oh , no need to thank him ! [ judging by the way he turns his head for a moment in an attempt to hide the flush on his face , he’s quite happy that you always thank him anyway ⁠♡ ]

although he often seeks you out for mundane things , phainon never fails to jump to help you with your work [ even thought you don’t ask ] you’re grateful , at first . one glance at his work immediately proves that the rumours of his excellence are indeed true . it starts to get slightly irritating when he finishes projects that you’ve started without asking you or even mentioning it until after it’s been submitted to your boss

sure , his work is amazing and he breezes though it almost effortlessly , but you aren’t as helpless as he’s making you feel . he’s never condescending towards you , but you can tell he doesn’t take your words seriously . he’s not phased when you tell him that his actions aren’t necessary . haha alright , alright ! he’ll focus on his own work from now on . [ he won’t . the cycle repeats ] you’re starting to feel guilty now , too [ you didn’t even start this , either ! what the hell ! (•̀⤙•́) ]

both of you have relatively high positions at the company — you know firsthand that the workload can get overwhelming at times and now he’s carrying double the responsibilities ? and it’s because of you ? laughs at your concerns . he’s flattered that you care about him , but you shouldn’t worry so much ! he’s got this ! buuuuut . . if you feel like you need to repay him so badly , why don’t you go out with him sometime ? [ and sometime after that . and after that ] great ! it’s a date (๑>؂•̀๑)

#✧˖°. atlas speaks #phainon x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #yandere #trust and believe I will get to anaxa and mydei #im not too confident I can write for them LOL….

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pinkaditty · 7 months ago

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high libido jiro headcanon actually has me doing front flips omlll

this is actually a great time 2 share: im writing a long hc post about the ghouls and what i believe their sexual behaviors would be. this was partially inspired by Obey Me!, due to the sins attributing to certain characters manifesting in different ways. for example, both Solomon and Asmodeus have the sin of Lust, right? however, Asmodeus's sin manifests as physical lust, whereas Solomon's manifests as a lust for knowledge. I was thinking about how the ghouls essentially make pacts with demons, and demons typically are tied to a sin, right? i used the classic Seven Deadly Sins, and attributed a sin to each ghoul. im writing their sexual behaviors based off of those sins and how they manifest.

Sneak peek below (edited to be more concise, will be lengthier when officially posted, posting ONE character per house for this, please note that their blurbs are incomplete and i haven't posted all i have written):

I KNOW THIS IS LENGTHY BUT IT'S IMPORTANT TO READ TO UNDERSTAND:

becoming a ghoul, as stated in the story, significantly increases your physical ability, battle prowess, and gives you a “stigma”, or a pact-based power. ghouls outrank humans in strength, resilience, and!!! aggression. while some ghouls are better-natured than others, it goes without saying that they all experience an increase in aggressive behaviors. this should be obvious, but when making a pact with a demon (fictionally speaking!!), i imagine that making such pacts with beings that are avatars of “sin” increases the desire to sin and decreases aversion to it. i like to think that indulging in sin becomes not exactly “necessary”, but vital in the sense that they can live without it but it makes human-esque day-to-day living harder. eventually the "sin" cravings get out of control and they have to indulge in some sort of sin, namely the sin they are the most associated with, because they “devoured” the demons they made pacts with. for example, say jin made a pact with a demon that specialized in sloth. when his cravings get out of control, he needs to indulge in sleeping in all day (or doing something similar) at least once. note that, like in Obey Me!, the sins may manifest differently. for example, i believe both jin and ren made pacts with demons that are sloth-based, but jin’s sin manifests in sleeping while ren’s manifests in avoidance.

as far as sexual behavior goes, the sins the ghouls participate in affect their sexual behavior, i think, just as they affect their personality and societal behaviors and interactions. for example, sloth-based ghouls may prefer doing little work during sex or have a preference for low effort positions; whereas glutton-based ghouls may prefer doing as much as possible, in as many positions possible, for as long as possible, regardless of how physically strenuous.

one more hc: it isn’t impossible, but it is excruciatingly tough for a ghoul to avoid (for lack of a better word) a creampie, if you will, when not wearing a condom. they are ghouls after all, and as such, will experience more aggressive and carnal sexual behaviors. contraception drugs with immediate effects are sold at the campus store LMFAOAOAOOA

Tohma Ishibashi (Greed-based):

this guy is power-hungry i fear, and thank goodness his boss is a sloth! he can pick up the leadership role all he wants.

this guy is greedy bc he wants power for the sake of having it. y’know that trope where it’s really the king’s advisor pulling the strings? yea.

he wants more. he wants more. he wants more.

without indulging myself too terribly much… if jin, alan, or haku had you, tohma would covet you even more than he already would if you were still single.

haha what? nevermind.

anyways we all already know how he indulges in his greed. how does he do so sexually?

in simple terms he wants more of everything from you

you suck him off? okay do it again.

you came on his tongue? okay do it again.

you clench your walls tight around his cock to make him cum faster? okay, after he recovers, do it again.

there can never be too much. if anything, there’s never enough.

Leo Kurosagi (Envy-based):

not gonna lie i kinda flip-flopped between greed and envy for him

but ultimately i think envy suits him best

i think envy is what spurs most, if not all, of his harmful or demeaning actions towards others

he’s jealous! god forbid someone do something better than he does. they’re guaranteed to become his next target.

and it’s always personal, no matter how hard he tries to convince himself otherwise

because of this, i think he’d be selfish during sex

he wants more pleasure than his partner out of something, and if he’s not being directly stimulated, he wants something beneficial to him out of it

that said, he’s easy (i say this with love)

so it’s never a problem to convince him to do what you want, so long as you pay him back with interest later

its all about the trade! but lowkey he’s happy to do anything you ask, so long as you pay attention to him specifically. keep your eyes on him while he’s giving you head and i promise he’ll cum untouched.

Haru Sagara (Glutton-based):

my gluttony king…<3

can’t explain it i just feel it

he’s not greedy bc greed is wanting something for the sake of having it, while gluttony is wanting something for the pleasure of consuming it

consider him at Rui’s bar. always drinking too much.

consider him in his dorm. always working too much.

but does he enjoy it? yea. absolutely. even when he gripes he never says he’d rather do something else.

he does it because it gives him pleasure, regardless of what way, which is what makes me believe he’s glutton-based

i think this guy’s a masochist that likes ass im not gonna hold y’all.

he hardly pays his own pain any mind, and if anything, seems to enjoy putting himself in pain for attention (more gluttony hints, he loves consuming attention)

and has not only brought up being smacked on the ass himself, but has smacked someone’s ass in the story.

he also just repeatedly brings up ass regardless of whether or not the conversation had anything to do with it.

he’s a horny guy i fear. i dunno. i just feel it. why do you think he likes those rabbit-like animals so much? he’s basically one himself. sex-loving freak (/affectionate!!).

he likes to go more than one round, and probably recovers quicker than most.

once you’ve gone one round, unless this was a quickie in the kitchen while he’s making dinner or even in his room while Ren watches Peekaboo, you can expect at least one more, and at most four more.

he likes quickies actually, let me just put that out there

Romeo Lucci (Pride-based):

you would THINK greed, i know, i get it, but i think that greed is just part of his personality. he’s just like that. PRIDE is the sin of the demon he devoured.

he wants you shivering in his presence. it fuels his ego.

i don’t think he cares for the money as much as he cares about his ego. i think the income the casino makes fuels his ego as the guy running it, so he always wants record profits to fuel his ego.

does that make sense? like, sure, the casino makes money and all, but for romeo, it’s more about ego than monetary gain.

why do you think he wants everybody calling him “fico” and brags about his high end products and complains when even a single thing doesn’t go his way?

its all ego, that’s why.

that said, boy i hope you’re prepared to feed his ego when you finally screw him.

has a major praise kink because of it

tell him how pretty he is, pounding into you! he’ll try not to smile like a drunken freak.

Haku Kusanagi (Lust-based):

MY FAVVVV OUUUUGHGHHGHGHHHHHHH MY FAVVVVVVVVV

haru makes a close 2nd place if u couldn’t tell. but this guy?? nnnmmmmffffghghhhh…

he seems so incredibly normal and im not saying he’s not but im saying he has a much stronger libido than others around him. like, incubus strength.

rather than lust for attention or knowledge or something else, he literally lusts for sex. he’s physical lust-based.

to him, it kind of sucks. he’s not super fond of it. i mean, what kind of future priest gets boners this frequently? come on man.

at the same time, though, he can’t say it’s… all bad. its exhilarating in a way, and he kind of likes being horny all the damn time.

to be clear, it’s not ALL the time… just relatively often.

he’s a little conflicted and overall has mixed feelings on it.

anyone complimenting his looks, which happens often (as seen in Hotarubi’s story), can just get him hard randomly.

god forbid you compliment him, even once. he’s rock hard immediately. it’s embarrassing.

thankfully though, he does an excellent job at hiding it. being used to it has it’s perks.

he’s abnormally good at hiding his arousal though, like you wouldn’t be able to tell unless you pressed yourself directly against his crotch.

when the cravings get bad, however… he can’t hide it anymore. thankfully though, a very long, very self-indulgent jack off session that lasts a day will stave it off.

once he has you, though… ohohohohoooo boy.

you end up spending more time at hotarubi than you do in the chapel

you’re always sleeping over. you’re always waking up with hickeys. you’re always doing the walk of shame the following morning.

Rui Mizuki (Glutton-based):

not going to hold you, this one should be obvious

this is rui we’re talking about. the touch-starved, flirty womanizer. what do you think he’s going to constantly want more of for the pleasure of consuming it?

hell, i like to believe that prior to his curse, he was a super touchy guy. he loved to hug people or perform small acts of intimacy, like ruffling someone’s hair or rubbing their arms or holding their hands. he loved that! and he’s been robbed of it.

he is a pure glutton for touch, i know it.

(we are going to act like theoretically you can fuck him)

this said: do not let your hands leave him during sex. don’t!

something about hands in particular. how dearly he has missed and craved the simplest form of contact: via hands

he will be desperate to touch you, all over, with his hands, and he wants you to feel the same

the sex will be bareback. sorry.

Jiro Kirisaki (Sloth-based):

high libido king. low energy king.

the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak!

i theorize it’s not just his illness that tears him apart, it’s also his sin of sloth

since he doesn’t indulge in it much (and isn’t really allowed to), his body oftentimes shuts down involuntarily to preserve itself, yk?

this being said…

i like to think he has an abnormally high libido

but he can’t often contribute time to it, what with him being so busy with research he hardly showers daily AND him being sick AND him needing to indulge in sloth. he barely has the time to jack off, really.

during sex, he’s generally pretty malleable to whatever you want, granted he doesn’t have to work too hard.

will he blow your back out? sure! will he start out slow thrusting until he’s close and then speed up the pace to blow your back out? yea.

he can only go one round sorry! you’re not getting much out of him. but, surprisingly, he recovers quicker than most. so if, after an hour or so, you wanted to go again…

this was supposed 2 be a sneak peek but i think i did too much lmfao???

lowkey i was embarrassed 2 post this. this is the rawest stage of my work. straight from the brain and pure headcanon at that.

if u want 2 be tagged when this post is completed, let me know!

questions, comments, or even concerns? let me know!! and, of course, do let me know if you enjoyed the sneak peek at all.

EDIT: why is my brainslop getting likes lol? anyways I edit this 2 tag: @cupcakesmoothie and @aayakashii I put content of ur favs in this post and forgot 2 tag y'all 🫡 shame on me

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one-green-frog · 4 months ago

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Hi! I was so happy when I saw that your requests were open for your platonic yandere batfam series, also I’m sorry if I send in too many, just do the ones that interest you bc I can’t wait to see them!!

Can I please request them dragging you to a family movie night and sleepover (if you want) together

Snuggled in

By now, it felt like you had lived at the manor since the very beginning. The grand halls, the endless corridors, and the hidden nooks and crannies—all of it was as familiar to you as the back of your hand.

Your life had settled into a new normal. Or at least, as normal as it could be when surrounded by the Wayne family and their complete and utter devotion to you. They were obsessed, and you knew it. Their attention was intense, overwhelming at times, but you had grown to accept it. Maybe even crave it. The way they cared for you, how they anticipated your needs before you even voiced them—it was comforting, intoxicating even.

Earlier today, Dick had texted you.

"Movie night. I'll come get you later."

There was no room for declination, not that you wanted to refuse. Movie nights were one of the best things about living at the manor, especially when everyone was present. It wasn’t just about the films—it was about them, about the closeness, the warmth of being surrounded by people who made you feel safe. Sure, you loved spending time with them individually, but when they were together, it felt like a real family, a family you never wanted to leave.

So, all that was left to do now was wait, to enjoy the "calm before the storm."

It didn’t take long before Dick appeared in your doorway, his signature grin in place as he grabbed your hand and practically dragged you toward the theater room. His grip was firm—just a bit tighter than necessary, as if he feared you might pull away. As if he was still afraid you might reject them.

You knew they had doubts. That paranoia whispered to them constantly, telling them that your love for them wasn’t real, that one day, if they let their guard down, you’d disappear. It hurt knowing they feared that, but at the same time, you understood. They knew what they were doing wasn’t exactly right. The way they needed you, the way they clung to you—it was too much, even by their own standards. And yet, they couldn’t stop.

And you? You didn’t fight it. Maybe you should have, but deep down, you liked the way they cared for you. How they made you feel wanted.

When you arrived, everyone was already there, and unsurprisingly, a spot had been saved just for you. Judging by the tension in the air, there must have been a fight before you got here. The privilege of sitting next to you wasn’t something any of them would just give up. It seemed that this time, Damian and Dick had won, both looking entirely too pleased with themselves while the others shot them varying degrees of annoyance.

But now that you were here, no one dared to argue.

Time with you was precious, something none of them wanted to risk ruining. You were the one thing that held them together, that kept them from spiraling apart. They all knew it.

“Jason, why don't you pick the movie?” you said as you settled into your seat.

Jason raised a brow, looking mildly surprised but pleased. He was always good at picking movies, always knowing exactly what suited your mood. Sometimes, he chose thrillers, knowing you enjoyed the adrenaline rush. Other times, he picked romances, sweet and indulgent. No matter what he chose, you knew it would be perfect.

But in the end, the movie never really mattered.

Because the real highlight was always the closeness, the warmth of your family surrounding you.

Dick wasted no time wrapping himself around you, his body practically molding to yours. He had always been the most physically affectionate, taking any excuse to hold you. On your other side, Damian leaned against you, quiet but solid, his presence grounding. He never admitted it, but during movie nights, he always ended up snuggled against you like a cat seeking warmth.

Time passed in a comfortable blur. The others rotated around you, each finding a way to be close. Jason would ruffle your hair as he got up to grab snacks, Tim would drape himself lazily against your side when exhaustion took over, and even Bruce—ever the stoic—would rest a steady hand on your shoulder, a silent reassurance that he was there.

It was getting late, the movie long ended and the comforting presence of everyone slowly lulled you to sleep. You tried to fight it, wanting to enjoy the moment more, but at some point you lost the fight with sleep.

Your head grew heavier, your body sinking into the warmth around you. The others noticed almost immediately. Their voices quieted, movements slowed, as if afraid to wake you.

Bruce was the first to move. Carefully, he lifted you into his arms, his grip firm yet gentle, while Dick untangled Damian from your lap. He fell asleep first and somehow always ending up in your lap, snuggling into you as if seeking your warmth. The transition was smooth, practiced. They had done this before.

Your room was dark and quiet when Bruce laid you down, pulling the blankets over you with practiced ease. He lingered, brushing a hand through your hair, his eyes never leaving your face.

You had saved him. Saved all of them.

Bruce had long believed that some wounds would never heal, that his family would remain fractured, bound together only by shared tragedy. But then you came along—his son, his light, the one thing that brought them back together.

There were many things he regretted. Things he would never be able to fix.

But with you here, it felt like he had a second chance.

That was enough.

And as he sat beside you, watching over you as you slept, he let himself believe—just for tonight—that everything was exactly as it should be.

Taglist: @lilyalone

This was so much fun writing!

Thank you so much for requesting, I'll get to your other ask as soon as possible!

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ughdontbeboring · 11 months ago

Text

pain relief

Austin Butler x WoC Reader (can be read by anyone)

Reader is trying to hide her chronic pain from her man

warnings: chronic pain (migraines), insecurities, smutty

THIS FOR ALL MY CHRONIC PAIN GIRLIES!!

notes: WOW even with all the Austin wips in my notes this is my first one to be posted, wow idk makes me nervous 😅 yall I hope I did our sweet boy justice.

No description of ethnicity one comment of complexion that’s it but reader when I write is always written with myself in mind. It’s soooo self indulgent.

this is SUPER self indulgent, So I first thought of this from his interview with Jimmy Kimmel when they asked about the migraines as an excuse not to have sex and of course his response was spot on he said “I don’t know what a migraine is” and Jimmy said “of cour you don’t” lmfao bc idk if I’d even turn him down if I had one!

I had a really bad period of back to back migraines for a couple months and this is what my brain rewarded me with in between one. I really don’t know what this is yall lol so don’t ask idk if I’m actually happy with it but yea lol

I put x reader but idk I guess it can tell be read that way, I don’t have the energy to re write it y’all so

now that I’m starting to feel better I will be catching up on my other wips.

if you like it, love it, fuck with it leave some love. I DO NOT give permission for my shit to be used anywhere by anyone.

🤕

Don’t focus on the pain, don’t focus on the pain she repeated over and over again in her head from under the safety of the soft cool cotton comforter as if it would keep away the pounding pain, protect her from it.

It would not.

Even with the house dead silent, the fan on for a little noise and all the black out curtains drawn that her boyfriend insisted he buy when he learned about her diagnosis from childhood- she knew relief would not find her. She shifted trying to readjust and find a more comfortable position to lay in, the little pocket above her head letting much needed cool air into her little bubble.

She knew a few weeks ago she should have reached out to her neurologist but she’d just been so busy it kept slipping her mind and the aspirin had been holding her over but this? no this one was a monster and it was full peak right now. It started almost a day ago after the LA screening for The Bikeriders and had not gone away.

It didn’t help that they also just got back from the UK press tour. All the flying, the red carpets, the flashing lights and noise was starting to take its toll. Recently her boyfriend of just a little over a year revealed to her how much he enjoyed having her accompany him and how he loves sharing those moment with her. Hence all the traveling she’d done recently at his side.

They still believed in healthy space but they truly enjoyed being together as much as they could.

Usually she’d fly out every 2 or so weeks to wherever he was since her job was more flexible, their relationship was long distance since she was still living in New York. Which they’d also discussed changing that status but they both agreed to iron out the plans once the tour was over and he had a few weeks of down time. They figured the actual move would happen after he filmed in NY the end of summer. Knowing summer was her favorite time to be home, ever the thoughtful boyfriend.

Though she was nervous to tell her family. They adored Austin but they’re a very close family and not seeing them everyday would take a lot of time to adjust to but it was important at this point in their relationship to actually be together. He even mentioned he’d love to look for a New York apartment which she had thought was unnecessary they could just stay with any of her family members when they visited until he reminded her she wouldn’t want her family to know she was his pretty girl who got cock drunk and loud when he fuck her stupid. Yes their own place was necessary.

She felt a sharp pain at her temple and groaned. It was like her brain was telling her to stop thinking about all the stress and think about the pain she was in, which she didn’t want to do either honestly. She wish she could sleep it off but it was impossible.

She flipped her pillow to the cool side and once again tried to empty her brain. Deep breaths girl deep breaths, the pain isn’t forever.

She heard the front door slam shut up, which made her curl up even more in a fetal position and the deep smooth voice of her favorite person calling out to her. That voice was her favorite in the whole world but right now she needed silence. She had hoped the migraine would have been over by the time he got back but she wasn’t so lucky. Now she would have to face the music.

She had been telling him the past couple weeks it was just little headaches nothing serious, he knew she got migraines but hadn’t experienced any with her so far. The past 2 years she hadn’t needed to be medicated, the doctor couldn’t tell her why they suddenly stoped and why she was only getting little headaches every once in a while. This is why she was so unprepared and completely out of her medication she hadn’t needed in so long; she truly thought they had finally stopped for good.

She couldn’t have been more wrong with the pain that was throbbing in her head. The front of her skull a constant ache and the back at the base of her skull and neck a wicked throbbing. The pain in her neck and shoulders unbearable even right between her eyes a sharp pain. She felt like she was dying. The fatigue of the attack her body was under was starting to catch up to her. She was trying to hold back the tears but the sound of boots pounding up the stairs along with the call of baby had her on the verge of a tearful melt down.

She wanted to avoid the conversation that would surely come after this, when he would witness her in a peak migraine state. She felt horrible because she knew he’d feel like it was his fault for encouraging her to come with him to all the press events but it wasn’t his fault.

She was an adult and she should have addressed this weeks ago with him and her doctor when the headaches started and not try to hide it to avoid worrying him.

She should have been honest and though she has no reason to be she was scared to tell him. She was scared he may think she wasn’t able to handle this kind of life. What if he wanted someone who didn’t need to recharge so often? Or someone who could just do anything with him at anytime not be laying in a bed sometimes for more then a day in pain and grumpy. Someone who couldn’t be touched in this state or be the prefect girlfriend.

She also knew she sounded ridiculous that wasn’t who Austin was but it didn’t stop the insecurity she had about her migraines and how they held her back from life sometimes. Held her back from being fully emerged into his lifestyle. The guilt wrecked her.

She knew she was mostly feeling insecure about her migraines because of those comments. She wasn’t normally insecure but recently she had read some comments which usually don’t bother her, about her and Austin’s relationship and how unhappy she looked being on press tour and if she was so unhappy why not just leave so he could be with someone who was happier with him. Those people obviously ignored the photos that were not taking at events that showed how happy they were but not knowing or they probably didn’t care she couldn’t be happier than she was, she was just suffering from more frequent migraines.

So of course they’d focus on the bad, not all the fans but some. A lot of fans, who she felt were real fans could simply see how happy Austin seemed again. She knew how that felt, she met Austin as a fan and all his relationships and flings after Vanessa seemed lackluster and without any real connection, so she got it. But some of the comments were really getting to her at this moment. Especially the ones about how he looked happier with Kaia (which she knew was a lie from hell, she heard all about that relationship from Austin, his last ex) and then the ones about Vanessa looking happy ALL the time, which was funny because Austin spoke to her about their relationship also and if fans only knew it wasn’t always perfect, yes they loved each other but still there was a lot of hurt in that relationship for Austin.

Then when those things would pop up she’d think what she’d say to her mans ex’s if she ever met them or if she’d just ignore them.

Her head throbbed hard from all the unnecessary thinking and stress she was bringing onto herself, things she normal never paid any mind when the bedroom door swung open.

Baby? He called again, steps coming to a slow stop halfway into the room when she assumed he noticed the state of the room; all the curtains drawn, the TV and lights all off, no noise but the fan she placed near the bed even though the central air was on and the pile of blankets on the bed covering her balled up body. Not a single part of her visible as she quickly stuck her hand out the air pocket at by her head careful to not let any light in and weakly waved at him. She could hardly speak let alone move her head to acknowledge him anymore.

“Baby you still in bed? It’s 10” He asked as he walked closer, not that he cared it was just unusual for her and caused a bit of concern to form in the pit of stomach.

He watched the head or he’s assuming area of the blanket shake in a yes motion. Even with the black out curtains there was still just enough light to make out everything in the room.

“Baby what’s wrong” he asked in a soft voice from the edge of the bed, his hand running gently up and down some part of her body under the blanket. Her body coiled away from his touch. He tried to shake away the slight sting it caused him.

“uh migraine” she whispered weakly, if he wasn’t mistaken he could hear the underlying embarrassment in her tone. What could she be embarrassed about?

“Oh shit baby, you need anything? Anything I can do?” He genuinely asked in gentler tone, though she couldn’t see how his eyes soften knowing she was probably in an immense amount of pain.

He felt useless.

“Uh no, just gotta be left alone for a while” this time there wasn’t any embarrassment in her tone just guilt.

Austin tried to school his own face and tone of disappointment. He know he couldn’t do anything truly to make it go way but he wanted to help, wanted to be there for her like she’d been there for him on all his overwhelming days and nights from filming and traveling. His sweet girl deserved that. Then he thought back to this one thing he’d came across when he was reading online about migraines when she first told him she got them pretty frequently in the past. He quickly dismissed that idea, a slight blush creeping up his neck, he felt a little embarrassed himself for even thinking to suggest that, who says that to their partner Austin? He thought. She clearly needed to be alone.

“Ok I’m just head downstairs then, call me if you need anything”

He took another moment eyeing her blanket fortress before turning and slowly heading Towards their bedroom door.

“Austin?” He heard her call shyly, her voice still muffled from the layers covering her.

“Yea?” His own tone was laced with curiosity.

“Uh…there…there is one thing you could probably do for me…if you don’t mind..if you do it’s ok-“

He was quick to be at her side, slipping out his shoes, ready for whatever. His stomach burned a little thinking she may ask what he thought of just briefly a moment ago.

“Anything”

He watched her baby blue fresh set of nails slip from under the blanket and her hand reaching out for his. His own large hand was in hers before he even registered it moving. She tugged him lightly, his body following gently. He was careful not to touch her as he laid next to her, his chest near where her head was, he remembered her saying how she didn’t like to be touched when she was having an episode, everything felt more intense and for some reason it usually amplified the pain.

“Can I use your hand for a while?” She asked shyly still under the safety of the blankets, he could hear her clearer through the hole she left at the top.

He felt guilty at the blood that rushed his cock.

“Of course” He said squeezing the right hand that held his left one.

He allowed her to maneuver his hand so that his left hand was under her head, she placed his fingers at the base of her skull, thumb on one side and his fore finger and pointer finger on the left side.

“Can you keep your fingers like this and apply as much pressure as you can? This are some of my pain points and the right kind of pressure can ease the pain a little, usually I tie a scarf but it isn’t always helpful” she mumbled weakly.

He was confused.

“Oh ok..I..I thought-“

This wasn’t something he read, though he seen something about heat compress. He was confused because he thought she was going to ask for his hand to give her an orgasm. That was something interesting that he had came across. It said it didn’t work for everyone hence why he was slightly embarrassed to suggest it, he didn’t want her to think he was only thinking with his dick.

He applied the pressure anyway, happy to help anyway he could.

“Is that good baby?”

“You can press a bit harder”

He did as she said, feeling her body adjust just the tiniest bit next to him. A soft sigh leaving her lips.

She soft voice thanked him. He hummed a response, his own body adjusting slightly to get more comfortable. He would lay here as long as she needed.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she called his name.

“Yea?” He asked feeling more tired himself than what he thought he was when he got home.

“What were you going to say? When I asked for your hand?” She replied softly voice full of the need for sleep.

His felt that fire and a blush come back. He chuckled to himself. Now was good as anytime to confess his unconventional suggest and figure out if it was something helpful to her or if it was something she even heard of before.

“Uh..I..I had been reading about migraines when you first told me you got them, trying to understand them better-“ He was cut off by a whimper she made, a pitiful sound of endearment. He knew what she was thinking, she was taken back by his willingness to be there for her however he could and that meant trying to understand what she would be going through. He kept going. “And I was reading how orgasms can sometimes help temporarily, but I didn’t want you to think I was just thinking with my dick” he concluded softly. Feeling better about just getting it out and in the open, it didn’t feel so dirty anymore, like he was taking advantage somehow. He knew her better than to think she would think that but it didn’t stop his insecurities about the topic.

He felt her body stilled.

shit was she mad at him? He felt the slight unease creep into his stomach and his insecurities intensify at the thought that she would be mad at him for suggesting such a thing when he noticed her right hand slip from under the covers.

Her soft palm facing up and open in a silent question and permission, are you still willing? And of course you can touch me.

He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding and gave her his right hand, her soft fingers gently pulled his under the covers, her forearm resting ontop of his own as she slipped his hand under hers to be guided where he couldn’t see. Once his rough fingers tips ghosted over her wet pussy he didn’t need anymore guidance, he knew her too well, maybe better than she knew herself.

She gasped at the first touch and her hand left his to grip his forearm, as he’d started to explore her wet folds.

“How are you this wet already sweet girl? Hmm? Just can’t help yourself around daddy?” Austin questioned softly from above her, awe clear in his voice. He stayed laid on his left side, careful his body other than his hands didn’t touch her.

“Fuck” she groaned quietly from under the blankets. “Guess my body always needs you daddy” she moaned out. He groaned as his fingers applied more pressure and speed.

He felt the twitch in cock as she coated his fingers and moaned softly and weakly. His fingers switching between slow and quick. He was so painfully hard. He had to stay focus this was about her but how could he when her tight wet warm pussy was calling him? Begging for him. Her body was hardly moving just her hips grinding slowly into him.

Even fully covered by a ton of blankets he was still completely in-tune with her body. He didn’t need to see her face though he wished he could to kiss her soft lips, to know the pleasure he was giving her, to know she was close.

He blindly felt the warmth and wetness of her pussy driving into his hand slowly chasing the pleasure he was somehow able to provide in this state.

“Cum for me pretty girl, take it” he groaned lowly.

She moaned out, she sounded so exhausted and pitiful but he could tell she wanted this, needed it and he was more than happy to give it to her.

She squealed softly as she rocked against his hand, her body exploding and the sweetness of her drenching his fingers, her face seeking the comfort of his embrace under the blanket, he moved over slightly as his left hand still pressed to the pain points guided her, help her her blanket covered forehead lay against his chest. Her hips kept rocking slowly chasing the feeling.

“There you go baby” his husky voice praised even with a migraine she was still his good girl. So wet and warm and tight for him.

Moments passed with his fingers still cupping her warm sticky folds and the other still applying the pressure she required, neither hand moved as he felt her drift of to sleep, her body finally relaxing from the endorphins of her orgasm.

Austin woke to the press of a soft warm body slightly on top of his and light kisses and licks against his neck. He stirred and tried to adjust his eyesight to the darkness that had over taking the room. It must be late.

“Hey baby” her voice sounded softly, her lips suddenly near his own. She kissed his plump mouth, pecking kisses over and over. She sounded a lot better.

His arms moved to embrace her, pulling her further ontop of him and as close as he could get her.

“Hey baby” he replied his eyes seeking hers. The dimmed light from the hallway allowed him to finally see her. Though he didn’t physically see her face earlier, he knew she looked more well rested than she had in the past day or two. Her eyes had a fatigue to them but he was sure that would clear up from the migraine once she got some more rest. All and all she almost looked back to her normal self.

Her hand snaked up his chest to cup his face.

“Thank you, for everything” she told him a little emotionally.

He brought his lips to her for a passionate kiss, before laying his foreheads on hers.

“You don’t ever have to thank me, I’m yours, that’s what I’m here for, to take care of you” he whispered against her lips.

She pecked his again.

“And I’m still going to say thank you” she mumbled.

He pinched her side playfully as she laughed and pushed at him.

They just gazed at one another and she had to blink to stop the tears. She had woke to Austin on his back, her body against his. She had unconsciously sought his while she slept as the tension faded from her body and to her surprise his hand was still gripping the back of her head. The pressure had loosed when he eventually fell asleep but his hand was still there nonetheless. She didn’t think she could love the man more and here she was slipping further in the ocean that was Austin and some how she was learning she could breathe underwater. He was everything to her.

“I have a surprise for you sweet boy” she said smiling at him like he hung the moon and she’d die on that hill that he did.

Austin’s chest ached in a good way. He never wanted this to end. Couldn’t imagine it being any other way. Everything that had failed for him relationship wise lead him to this moment with her. He was better for it.

“Hmm, what’s that?”

She nodded her head to the side of him and that’s when he noticed the en-suite bathroom door open and the soft glow of candles burning. The scent of oils and salts hitting him. He quickly turned back to her.

“Wh-“

“You were knocked out and I wanted to return the love”

“You little sneak” he accused tickling her sides.

She was quick to scramble away from his hold and climb over him getting to her feet and out of his grasp when his hands followed her as she head toward the bathroom.

She stopped short of the door as she pulled her oversize graphic shirt over her head.

“I would do that you know, sometimes, never with men though, I hated being touched during my migraines but when it was really bad and I had the energy I would do it myself to help ease the pain” she spoke from the doorway to the bathroom, the soft light surrounding her body, giving a even more beautiful glow to her brown skin. “I didn’t think it would ever work from someone else’s hand, not too sure what that means handsome” she smirked.

So she had done that before he thought but just never with man, no man had ever made her comfortable enough to try let alone achieve bringing her relief. Austin felt those butterflies in this stomach again, he felt a sense a pride swell in his chest. His cock was even stirring again. That’s exactly who he wanted to be for her, the man that gave what she needed, what others couldn’t, he wanted to be the one no other man could compare to. He wanted to be her all.

She smirked at him almost as if she could read his every thought and she could because they mirror her own and how she felt about him.

“Lets go loverboy, it’s time for the real show”

ALSO yall don’t have to say anything abt it but i find it helps SOMETIMES but alone so I thought who could make this work for me with another person of course our boy Austin could bc he’s so perfect. He’s the only one I’d let touch me with a migraine lol

#austin #ughwrites #austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austinbutleredit #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x black!reader #feyd Rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #Austin butler x woc reader

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the-moon-files · 12 days ago

Note

Hey! Idk if you take requests, but I’m on my period and miserable. Would you be willing to do the Chain and period comfort? Have a fabulous day!

Sorry i didnt get to this sooner!!

Idk what happened but i didnt see any notifs for any recent asks >:/ fiddling with my notifs to see if i can fix it?? but this app is kinda- yknow :/

an attempt was made! best of luck to you suffering anon

Moon: Guide and Gender Neutral Reader, bc technically i dont specify Reader pronouns (just you/your), just a reader who gets periods, rip 💔

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, kinda HANH au?

Stars: One crumb of each 🤏 bc it is a bit overwhelming to give each one their own bullet points, dont know how other lu blogs do it tbh

Comets & Meteors: CWs: mild descriptions of cramping, pain, and pain medications, & TWs: mild description of blood.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

(Kinda HANH au? Lets say hylians just dont be suffering like humans do, and the poor fellas have no clue wtf a period is if not a wound lmao)

so are we talking on the road bleedout or like, idk anywhere else LMAO

bc ur so cooked on the road

if you have the kind of torture where you have high pain cramps the first day/few days/entire time (like me 😞) then bestie We Are Gone.👋

say goodbye to ur favorite blonde heroes, and tell em 'witness me' or smth like that

likeee idk igggg lets say u dont have jackshit and try to just subtly mobilize Sky, or Hyrule or Time or one of the Links who are (probably) calmer at you gently saying

"heyyy,, good morninngggg,, how are youuu, yeah, yeah, good, thanks, um, weird question! but do you happen to have like, long lasting gauze? like on hand, or can we craft some or like, idk a plant??"

Poor Hyrule: 🧍‍♂️

Poor Hyrule: "...my guide are you bleeding out rn? as we speak?"

You: "No i would neverrr...."

You: "...after this moment. I would never be bleeding and not tell you! ...after this day, right now. Then i will keep that promise"

U try to explain as best u can but the pain do be taking your ass out,

but frankly any sort of squeamishness u were worried abt with the boys vanishes quickly bc Hyrule is legit coordinating more Links into it

(esp bc they cant exactly go on a miles long trek with you crawling in pain the whole way Rulie argues, so its kinda necessary to at least inform Time and Wars, who typically lead the way or make the plans for the days journey)

i would say it slowly circulates around to the heroes that ur:

1. Bleeding.

2. In pain, the deep muscle cramps kind that they can probably relate at least a little bit to, even if the concept of periods is not familiar to them

3. the place thats bleeding and the cramps in ur lower back (and other muscles as well if ur a rlly unlucky one) mean u Cant Walk in their eyes and also Might be Dying. But you dont seem very alarmed

to his credit of remaining calm, Time does redirect the chain of heroes nervous energy towards getting to higher ground thats got some running water and is shady to make u more comfortable (or get ahold of Epona to carry you to the nearest inn/stable stop)

even if ur at an inn with a nice bed and stuff Sky both adds his own items and steals some from the rest of the Chain, like extra padding from blankets/bedrolls so ur just drowning in fluff lol (he Cannot stop fluffing things while he insists on anxious woodcarving beside u)

poor Hyrule cant quite attend to ur every need yet bc Wild has dragged him away kicking before explaining he desperately needs his healing powers to help make pain numbing potions/pads/tampons/heating pad/etc. like u told him about

Wars had to legit delegate small duties to everyone bc seeing their guide in pain and basically unable to do much but wait it out and ease it a little is driving these hylian heroes stir crazy

(even the most strategic of them are still men of action so yeah its not going well if they dont all have smth to do with their hands)

like Legend is vigorously scrubbing all ur laundry and sheets and bedding on a near daily basis for every day of ur period lmao

u havent even bled thru anything, and its not like ur sick and contagious youve explained, but if u dont let the poor veteran hero do his laundrymaid duties his eye starts twitching lol

Wind insists on reading stories to you for the times ur more bedridden, and even tucks u in to just have u laugh instead of constant grimacing in pain, ur fav baby boyyy 🥹 <3

Twilight is going crazyy on the firewood and making sure ur room is always stocked nice and cozy (he may have had to embarrassedly offer the mountain of extra to otehr travelers bc he worried-restless-chopped too much lol)

Four is actually the only Link who doesnt immediately pick u up and put u back in bed when u try to get out of ur mountain of fluff

(bc Vio is actually logical and currently has the only braincell out of all the lowkey panicking colors AND worrywort blonde heroes lmao)

so Four actually makes sure to hydrate you and take off blankets when Sky adds too many or treat u pretty normal (along with sneaking u chocolate/treats bc Wild is kinda drowning u in homemade soups or iron-rich food rn like ur sick as dog or smth)

Cue Wars also constantly trying to look out for you and make sure none of these worryworts overwhelm you by redirecting/ delegating them - man looks more tired than you of this bs lmao

the general shock of u being like, fine, after the first few heavy flow/painful days, but apparently still Bleeding?? Then why are you trying to walk around so much and convince them to keep going??? are you going into shock??????!!!!

(No, but they might be you say, making Four and Wind snort-laugh and Legend huff/Twi look like a shamed dog/Time try to hide an amused smile/etc.)

by the time u actually convince the collective motherhens to get back on the road, ur like on the last day of ur period (and bc u lied abt not bleeding anymore) but not without realizing youve gotten subtly put in the center of the group with Wind, who's clearly distracting you abt it

they get over it quickly, and while theres a shared moment around the campfire where they all give you equally horrified looks that this happens every month (even Times and Legend 😭 even if theyre clearly trying to muffle it lmao)

but pls note that while theyre not as panicked next time, they are now pavlov'ed to keep track of ur periods lowkey, drown u in blankets, heating pad/pain potions, stuff u full of ur favorite Hyrulian foods of whatever era yall are in atm, and generally just be rlly cute blonde famous heroes turned an entire servant/maid staff

(Wind also managed to sneak into ur fluff mountain every time to be cuddle buddies w/you and the others are too embarassed to admit they want a turn so it kind of ends up with every link lowkey glaring at Wind every time they come in or close to do smth for you while Wind just looks like that smug cat meme lol)

(Speaking of memes, have a meme i made just for this occasion)

☆

i hope that was okay and since i didnt see this til later u can save it for next time!!

Peace out,

🌙 📁

#link x reader #link x fem reader #link x gender neutral reader #lu x reader #linked universe reader #linked universe x reader #moon asks #moon made memes #the new tag for memes i make just for yall <3

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olive-treeeee · 1 month ago

Text

Strings of the heart - The Toymaker x Reader

Hello Mein Lieblings! This fic was requested by Anon who asked: “hi, im kinda new to requesting so im not sure if im doing things correctly, but is it cool if the reader could be like the daughter of the toymake? (not sure how that will work, but please bear with me!) and is currently the companion with 15th doctor? i want the fic kinda centered around the mr. ring a ding ep bc it's currently my favorite. the rest is up to you!”

I’m so sorry that this took so long to post, but I hope it was worth the wait! I had a great time writing this one, I actually really like writing for the toymaker!

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: Daddy issues, James Corden

As always Requests are open!!

“Where to next, babes?” The Doctor beamed at you, leaning lazily over the side of the console, his smile glowing slightly as he tilted his head. There was that spark again, in his eyes, in his voice. Mischief and genuine curiosity, hand in hand.

Where to next? With all of time and space sprawled before you like a buffet, your mind went completely blank. “You’ve put me on the spot!” You laughed, hands flying up to cover your face. “That’s cruel. I need options.”

The Doctor stood tall, dramatic as ever, tapping his chin with exaggerated thought. “Options?” he repeated, striding around the console. “Please. You don’t need options. You need flair. You need drama. You need… fashion!”

You raised a brow, grinning. “Fashion?”

He clicked his fingers. “Exactly! The absolute best fashion in the universe. A place where style is stitched into the very air. Silkier than a sonic thread, glitzier than a Gallifreyan gala, and darling, just wait until you see the shoes.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, caught up in his infectious energy. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“Why listen,” he said, turning sharply on his heel and offering you his hand with a wink, “when you can just trust me?”

You took his hand, and he was already off, pulling you up the ramp toward a large circular archway built into the TARDIS wall, a tunnel you hadn’t noticed before. “Wait, where are we going?”

“Not where, babes,” he called over his shoulder, “what are we wearing?”

The Doctor took you by the hand, and before you could utter any kind of sound of objection, off you both went, feet tripping over themselves as you ran up the steps and through a large circular doorway, leading to a tunnel?

The moment you stepped through the tunnel, something shifted. You felt a light breeze, a shimmer in the air, and then–just like that–you were back in the TARDIS. Same floor. Same lights. Same humming console.

You turned around, confused. The tunnel you’d just lpassed through was still glowing behind you. “What just happened?”

“Look down,” the Doctor said, his voice like a secret.

You did, and gasped.

Gone were your T-shirt and jeans. In their place, a stunning 1950s-style dress in sunshine yellow flared out from your waist, cinched perfectly, every pleat and detail pristine. You gave a small spin and the skirt twirled with you, soft and light as air.

“How did—?”

The Doctor leaned against the console with a smug little shrug. “Don’t ask. The old girl has a flair for the theatrical when she’s in a good mood.” He tapped the console gently, and the TARDIS responded with a warm hum, like a cat purring in approval.

You turned back to him, still twirling. “Is this really necessary?”

He gave you a dazzling smile. “Oh, it’s absolutely unnecessary. That’s what makes it fabulous. Now, ready to strut through time?”

You held out your hand. “Lead the way, Doctor.”

With a grin that promised trouble, style, and maybe a little danger, he pulled a lever.

The TARDIS lurched, and the adventure began.

***

You emerged into an idyllic, sun-dappled, 1950s street, picture perfect and overflowing with charm. Pastel-painted shops crowded the thoroughfare boutiques, diners, a record store and smelled of fresh bread and motor oil. From the chrome diner, a jukebox hummed faintly, and the laughter of roller-skating kids rolled past. In the distance was the LUX Picture Palace, with its name emblazoned in lights like a down-the-line. All was glittering with nostalgic warmth too perfect, even, almost rehearsed. There was the soft breeze, and there were the smiles, too wide. And beneath the music and light, something in the air hummed strangely, slightly out of reach.

“Where are we?” You asked, your eyes wide as you turned in a slow circle, taking in the all the pastel storefronts and the gleaming chrome of the lights. You could faintly smell the soft scent of warm popcorn drifting in the breeze. The town looked like it was out of those glossy magazines. It was Sweet, it was surreal.

“Miami.” The Doctor said brightly. His hands shoved into the pockets of his perfectly tailored coat. “1952 to be precise. Sunshine, swing Music and scandalous Hemlines.” He tugged at your dress playfully at the last comment, making you giggle. “Fabulous!”

You Spun again, right towards the glowing marquee at the end of the street. Your eyes lit up like a kid at christmas. “Look! There’s a cinema! Can we go, Doctor? Oh, Please!” You tugged at his sleeve with barely contained excitement, practically bouncing on the spot.

He Glanced at the glowing lights then back down to you, and that smile bloomed again. “Of course we can, Sweetheart.” He said, his voice full of sparkle.

The two of you strolled through the bustling street, your heels Click Clacking on the pavement, The LUX picturehouse Gleamed in the street lights at every step you took.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

You Whipped around to see an elderly woman, who had stopped beside you. She wore a floral hat and a woven handbag, her expression dark beneath her cat eye glasses. Her voice, soft but heavy.

“Sorry?” You asked, blinking.

She leaned in sideways, Her eyes never quite catching yours. “Fifteen people went missing in that cinema, all strange to me, very unnatural.”

You stared at her. There was something about her… she looked ‘eerily’ like your neighbour, Mrs Flood?

Before you could speak again, the Doctor stepped forward, Grinning from ear to ear. “Fifteen people you say? Oh ho, I love a good body count.” He rubbed his hands together, gleaming with curiosity. “Maybe cursed, haunted popcorn machine maybe? Who knows? Mystery Is afoot!”

You barely had time to respond before he grabbed your arm and tugged you gleefully towards the entrance. “Come on Babes, what's a little danger between friends?” and Just like that you were swept into the golden glow of the LUX, the door closing with a soft Click.

***

Stepping into the auditorium, you felt the temperature drop as you kept walking down the stairs. The air was surprisingly cool and still with that same faint smell of buttered popcorn and old Velvet. The cinema screen glowed softly, bathed in a silver light that seemed to hypnotise you. It was Magnificent and eerily…Alive? Then, It flickered once, and again, and again.

Then suddenly, a blinding white flash.

It lasted only a second, but it made you and the doctor step back shielding your eyes. Then It was over.

What came after was a grainy background that flickered to life. It was sepia toned, with heavy static crackling at the edges. Music began to play: an upbeat, jazzy but somehow off tone, a little like an old record spinning too slow. A figure emerged from the noise.

Mr. Ring-A-Ding looked like he stepped straight out of a 1850’s cartoon (A cartoon that came straight from your nightmares). He was tall and slender with exaggerated proportions. Arms too long, smile too wide, eyes far too still. He wore a bright red pinstripe suit, it was impossibly crisp, with a bowtie that could spin like a wind up toy. His slicked back hair gleamed under the flicker of the screenlight, and his two toned shoes squeaked as he walked.

A walking sensory nightmare.

As he walked through the cartoon town, the houses rolled past as he marched down the street, big and overexaggerated. His voice crackled as if it has been filtered through a gramophone. Cheerfully hollow: “Well Howdy there Friend!” You’re just in time for the show!”

There was something performative about him, like a forgotten tv host endlessly stuck in rerun. Too Scripted, too chipper. It unravelled you.

“Doctor.” You asked, not taking your eyes off the screen, still hypnotised. “Why have I seen him before?”

“I really couldn’t tell you, babes.” The Doctor tore his eyes from the screen so that he was looking at you. “Where would you have possibly seen him before?”

You shook your head. “It’s scaring me.” Your voice was barely over a whisper.

The minute those thoughts hit your head, almost as if he was reading your mind. Mr. Ring-A-Ding stopped his usual song, mid tune, mid tune and turned slowly to look at the screen.

No. At you.

“It's you.” Mr. Ring-A-Ding Hissed. This time his voice was much lower now. His usual cheerful patter fell away to a grating growl. His head drew closer and closer to the glass of screen until it was practically touching. It looked grotesquely distorted. “He has been looking for you.”

Your throat seized as you Stumbled back a step. “Doctor.” You Gasped.

“On it babes.” He whipped his sonic screwdriver out of his breast pocket and aimed it at the screen. The very second it activated, the screen rippled like a surface of disturbed water. Mr. Ring-A-Ding’s face pushed forward, warping the image. His hands pressed against the glass and his fingers began to claw at it, as if it were wet clay. And then, with a wet Crack, his arm broke through. Then another arm, and then a leg and then, inch by inch, twisting unnaturally. His Torso contorted to fit through a space that shouldn’t be physically allowed, he emerged.

His Pinstripe suit, was smeared with static. His grin never faltered. He landes on the cinema floor with a distorted and cartoonish Boing which somehow only made it so much worse. Almost like reality was struggling to hold him in place.

You backed away, hands rising instinctively to shield yourself.

And then… the world exploded into white.

***

You felt something cold beneath your head, somewhere between damp and earthy. You ran a hand through the surface subconsciously, the gritty wood sending splinters through your fingers. Ouch. Your hands bunched reflexively in pain. The rotting floorboards clung to your skin like a creature as you stirred. The scent of dust and varnish filled your nose and then finally you felt the sharp pain that had been blooming at the side of your skull, Pulsing with each erratic beat of your heart.

Where in the world were you?

Your vision was completely washed in white, like the world was an overexposed polaroid photo. But as you slowly gained consciousness, shapes began to bleed through the haze: first, they were faint shadows then the shapes began to bleed through the haze. Then colours began to bloom. That's when you saw it.

It was a toyshop!

But not just any toyshop.

It was still. Too still. As you wobbled to stand, you noticed rows of dolls with wide glass eyes that stared down at you from great high wooden shelves, their painted smiles chipped and cracked, yet it didn’t feel like they looked like this from years of neglect, it looked like this…on purpose?

Mechanical Clowns frozen in mid-laugh were sat upright but slumped in corners. The colours of their bright cheeks faded and peeled as if laughter had long since drained them. Tin soldiers stood in perfect lines with their little muskets raised in perfect salutes. The light overhead buzzed faintly, casting everything in a dull, yellowish hue that gave the air a sickly warmth.

There was something about the place. As you crept around the narrow aisles, you felt the toy’s gazes as they seemed to follow you around the palace. Their eyes, always never quite moving but Almost moving. A creak eased through your ears, a rocking horse slowly moved back and forth, despite the air being deathly still and somewhere, just behind the quiet, a wind up music box played a broken lullaby, familiar, slow, looping endlessly.

Someone was watching you.

There was something so painfully nostalgic about this place. It clung to your heart and threatened to never let go, like fingers curling around your heart. Tears pricked your vision, unexpected. Uninvited, yet you weren’t sure why? Was it loss? Loss for all the things you wished you had, a childhood that didn’t quite last as long as it promised, laughter that never stayed, magic that never quite came. It promised wonder and delivered nothing in return, merely fragments. This place made you feel it, like it knew.

It Knew.

“Ah Guten Tag, Guten tag, I am glad to see you’re now awake.” A voice tore through your thoughts, like shears. You whirled around to see, him.

“Do you know who I am?” He asked again, an exaggerated German accent, graced his lips.

You nodded, you stepped forward, tilting your head like a curious bird. He regarded you as your eyes trailed up and down him. Disbelief struck your face and he noticed it.

“Go on then.” His voice merely whispers. “Who am I?”

“Are you Neil Patrick-Harris?”

The gentleman blinked.

Once.

Twice.

His jaw dropped in horror, somehow, as if you had just slapped a custard pie across his face. The music box that was still playing in the background gave a pitiful wheeze, like if you were to run a needle across a record, then promptly stopped.

He clutched his chest like a pantomime actor in the throes of a melodramatic death. “Oh how very dare you!” He squawked. “I have been known as many things by many people.” He began listing them on his fingers. “Maestro of Madness, conjurer of chaos, The Toymaker.”

The toymaker.

He spun around on the spot, arms flailing. “Do I look like I’ve done magic tricks on Ellen?!”

“Touched a nerve then?” You quipped.

He took a step forward, His voice dropping, German accent Slipping, almost tauntingly. “Now. Shall we try again? Or would you like to guess if I’m James Corden next?”

“Now, I know you aren’t James Corden.” You stepped forward, matching his taunt. Hands on hips, looking down through your nose. “But the question is: who are you?”

He smiled, rising to the unspoken challenge. “Guess.” was all he said.

“Guess?”

“Yes. Where are we right now?” You opened your mouth to speak and he held a finger in front of him to shush you. “No, don’t say anything. Just think…Oh what Fun.”

Your eyes shot throughout the shop. Catching glimpses at the dolls, the soldiers, the clowns, the games. Then you looked back to him. He grinned from ear to ear, mouth twisted like a sausage at the bottom of a plate.

Maestro of Madness, conjurer of chaos…

Wait.

“You’re the toymaker.” you breathed. “I know exactly who you are.”

The Toymaker’s smile spread even further. “Ooh, give the girl a prize!” He leapt from behind the counter, vaulting over it, like there wasn’t an impossibly low ceiling, he could bash his head on. He brought himself mear inches from your face, so quick you could barely react. He grabbed your face with both hands. “And do you know who you are, Mein Liebling?”

“Me?” Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Of course I know who I am. My name is (Y/N) (L/N). I live at 44 Randell street, I work in publishing and I travel the universe with the Doctor. Of course I Know who I am.”

The toymaker’s expression Shifted, it was as subtle and sharp, as if he knew a secret, you didn’t. “Tell me about your parents.” He demanded, syrupy smooth, sickly sweet. It circled around the question like a trap.

“Why?” You asked, warily, instinctively stepping back, though he didn’t let you go far.

“Do you remember them?”

You Hesitated. “My mother’s Name is Helen and my father is-” You mind drew a blank, like a bottomless pit.

“You don’t remember him do you?” The toymaker delighted, he was still close, still touching, parental almost. His thumb ran over your cheek. Kind but mocking. “Think.” He murmured, wrapped in lullaby

“You aren’t-?”

“Maybe I am.” He purred, tilting his head in theatrical glee.

“How?”

“Play a game with me and find out.” He threw himself back, arms outstretched, propelling back to the countertop. His grin spread again, unable to contain his excitement. He clapped his hands once and the lights went out. Leaving you in the pitch black.

There was a whirl of gears and a gust of mechanical steam. Before you could react, a vintage style puppet theatre rose from the floor, equipped with crimson curtains that were drawn tight.

“Let's play a game, Zuckerpuppe. Its like guess who? But not the boring kind with the plastic faces. No no, this one is all about you.”

You.

Then, the curtains part.

Inside the theatre, the puppets begin to perform. Short, twisted tableaus. They were fragments of your memories, scenes from your childhood play out in an exaggerated pantomime: your mother singing happy birthday to you, candles lit, just you and her in your own little world. Tears falling in an empty corridor. Your first writing competition.

Yet something felt off.

The figures moved like broken clockwork toys. Your mother’s puppet was warm and familiar but your father’s was always obscured, masked, scratched out, obscured, sometimes not even there.

“Each round, one clue.” The Toymaker purred. “One guess. Win, and I’ll answer your questions. Lose, and well, who knows what you’ll forget next?”

A shiver ran down your spine.

As the game continued, your memories began to distort. The toymaker starts inserting himself into them, first in the background, then closer, then completely and unmistakingly present. Always watching… always there.

Then, in the final round, the puppet curtain falls only to rise again, revealing a full length mirror instead of the usual theatre.

You step forward, hesitantly. Catching yourself in the glass.

But you are not alone in the reflection.

He stood behind you.

“I have seen you before.” You whispered, voice breaking.

“In your dreams, in the corner of old photographs. In the silence, when you asked, where your father had gone.”

Your breath quickened, then a pause.

“I did not leave you, (Y/N). I have been waiting, so, so, patiently for your return.”

Emotion overcame you. You sniffled. Sniffles turned to shaky breaths, turned to full sobs. You sobbed for the empty ache within your heart, for all the melancholic nostalgia. You sobbed for the empty parts of your life, the times where you felt oh so different from the rest of the world.

“Oh, please don’t cry mein Knuddelbar.” The toymaker cooed. “Daddy is here now.” He stretched his arms out wide, waiting for you to step in. To finally hold him.

“No!” you snapped, sudden and sharp. The Toymaker Flinched but soon he straightened with the grin slowly slipping from his face, replaced by something… human. A line etched with worry across his lips “Why now? Why here?”

The Toymaker’s throat bobbed. For a moment, he didn’t answer. The bravado had melted away finally, just slightly and something softer flickered behind his eyes. Regret? Doubt? Underestimation? Was this merely another trick?

The silence between the two of you widened, not just in sound but in presence, the physical space felt like a chasm, that only grew and grew every passing minute. It was an invisible rift that neither of you could bring yourselves to cross. The hush that settled over the room wasn’t empty; it was thick, humming the words unspoken. But beneath that, was there…regret in his eyes?

The Toymaker shrank beneath it, his shoulders hunching inwards, no longer the eternal trickster or cosmic tyrant. It was something else. Someone else. Like a child after being told off by a scolding parent.

“You must understand,” he said, muttering, voice cracking under the weight of it all. Brittle and tired. His eyes, which were once sharp with mischief, now looked cloudy with something dangerously close to sorrow. “Why, I couldn’t be with you.”

He didn’t look powerful any more. Just… human. Fragile in a way that frightened you more than any games of his could.

You swallowed hard, the lump that had been forming in your throat, threatening to choke you. Standing in front of you was the one person you had searched for, in the back of your mind. Across half-formed memories, years of crippling loneliness like a clock ticking in an empty house, a mother that could only care for as long as she could pretend to. And still, he wasn’t the man you had pictured. He wore a face that carried history but something essential was missing or perhaps broken?

It was you.

“What are you?” Was all you could say, waiting with baited breath.

“Some have called me a god,” the Toymaker said, slowly straightening from the place he had been hunched, as if pulling himself out of a long-forgotten memory. He stepped forward, leisurely, every movement deliberate, measured, as though he were walking through a game board only he could see.

“I’ve been called many things, in many tongues. Trickster, architect, illusionist. A whisper behind the veil. A shadow stitched into the fabric of time.” His eyes gleamed with something sharp and ancient. “Others can’t quite put me in a category: and that’s precisely how I like it. I am not bound by your little labels, your timelines, your cause-and-effect.”

He stopped just short of you, his presence folding in like a curtain drawing closed. “But you, my dear…” His voice softened, as though addressing something fragile, precious. “You are different. You are my perfect descendant. Oh yes, I have seen you. Moving through the cracks of existence, weaving colour into the grey, with that Doctor, mischief into the mundane. Creative. Restless. Just like me. You love it don’t you? Don’t you want more?”

He held out a pale, elegant hand, palm up like an invitation. “Do you know what that means? It means we don’t have to be lonely anymore. You and I… we’re echoes of the same story. Together, we could craft wonders. Rewrite rules. Build entire worlds from thread and thought alone.”

The air around him shimmered faintly, as if the very concept of reality was starting to bend in his wake.

“Come with me. Let the universe be our playroom.”

A mighty crash tore through the air, slamming through your eardrums, as the door of the toyshop flew open. You spun around just in time to see the frame engulfed in a blinding white light.

Silhouetted against it, stood the doctor. Arm outstretched, sonic screwdriver clenched tightly at his fist. His figure cut through the glare like a blade. Threatening.

“Oh, I might have guessed.” He Snarled, his voice low and dangerous, his face shrouded in darkness, but the fury in his posture said enough. “Snatching innocent people, turning them into your little amusements. Not this one.”

He reached for you, gripping your arm with a firm, protective urgency.

The Toymaker took a single step back, hands raised in mock surrender but his smug, knowing smile remained. He gave a theatrical sweep of his hand, inviting the Doctor to leave with you, as if granting a favor.

But even as you both moved toward the light, the Toymaker’s gaze stayed locked on yours unwavering, unreadable.

And then the world went white again.

***

In an instant, you were back inside the TARDIS, the familiar hum greeted you like a dream, but your chest rose and fell in uneven bursts, like you had just remembered how to breathe.

Silence settled in around you. Not the peaceful kind, but a heavy, uneasy stillness. The Doctor leaned against the console, his posture tired, almost slouched, like a frazzled teacher. You kept your eyes fixed on the floor, on the walls, anywhere that wasn’t him.

Then, finally, after what felt like hours of silence your voice broke the quiet, soft, hesitant. “Does the Toymaker… tend to tell the truth?”

The Doctor didn’t look at you right away. He exhaled slowly, a knowing sigh. “Why do you ask?”

You hesitated. The words were harder to shape than you expected. “He said something. While I was in there. I don’t know…it got under my skin, I guess.” You cleared your throat, trying to swallow the flicker of emotion before it showed. “It’s silly.”

The Doctor straightened slightly, and when he spoke, there was no humour in his voice. Only certainty.

“The Toymaker is bound by one rule: he can only tell the truth.”

A wave of emotion crashed over you, all-consuming and unstoppable. It surged before you could brace yourself, and all that escaped your lips was a single, breathless: “Oh.”

The Doctor turned at the sound—soft but broken—and his expression fell. Before he could say a word, the tears came again, spilling fast, helpless. You tried to speak through them, tripping over your apology as if it might hold everything together.

“I’m so sorry I don’t even know why I’m-”

“Sweetie,” the Doctor said gently, already crossing the space between you, “you have nothing to apologise for.”

He folded you into a hug before you could fall any further, arms strong and steady, wrapping you in something more solid than words. He smelled like soft fruit, peach, maybe, and something warmer beneath it, with a hint of Dolce & Gabbana clinging to the collar of his coat, subtle but grounding. Familiar.

You clung to him, trembling, the guilt still gnawing in your chest. “I nearly went with him, Doctor,” you whispered. “If you hadn’t come when you did, I might have-”

But he was already shaking his head, pulling back just enough to see your face. He brushed a few tears from your cheek with a gentleness that stopped the spiral in its tracks.

“No. I’m going to stop you right there.”

His voice was low, careful, but there was no judgement in it. Just something warm. Solid. Real.

“There is nothing wrong with wanting to be wanted,” he said. “And there’s absolutely nothing dark or dangerous about craving love. Especially… that kind of love. The kind you should’ve had. The kind you deserved.”

He held your gaze, searching for the wound beneath your words, and softened as he went on.

“We don’t talk about it enough, do we? The way it twists and turns inside you, to grow up without that hand on your back, guiding you. Without the voice that tells you you’re doing alright, even when you feel like you’re falling apart. And then suddenly, that voice appears, and it’s coming from the last place you’d ever expect… and you’re so desperate to be seen, to be chosen, that you almost don’t care who it’s from.”

You sniffled, holding back another wave of tears. He gave a small, understanding smile.

“Of course you nearly went with him. Of course you listened. You’re human. Beautifully, heartbreakingly human. The Toymaker? He knows how to find that ache. He wraps it up in glitter and games, and he makes it feel like safety. But wanting love doesn’t make you weak. It makes you alive.”

He let that sit between you for a moment, and then added, softer:

“And if… if the time ever comes again, if you’re ever standing in front of him, or someone like him, with that same choice to make, I promise you, I will never make that decision for you. You deserve your own agency, your own answers. I won’t take that from you.”

His tone turned just a little lighter then, eyes warm with that familiar spark of his.

“But until then? I’m here. Maybe not the most responsible influence, bit too fond of danger, shiny buttons, and spontaneous musicals, but I’m here. For whatever you need. Always.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. He leaned in, pressing a soft, kind kiss to your forehead, and then pulled you into another hug, this one quieter, stiller. A kind of promise wrapped in arms.

In the far-off corridors of the TARDIS, just beneath the humming engines, you could hear it: a faint giggle, echoing like it had always belonged there. The Toymaker, keeping watch. Waiting.

He would return.

But so would the Doctor.

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