#didn't want the other set to be too long so i made a separate post sorry sorry | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wtfsteveharrington · 4 months

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c l o s e t o y o u | carmen berzatto x reader

we've got so much history baby

description: set months after your breakup, you and carmen navigate what it means to be separated. you're trying to move on but waves always return to the ocean.

warnings: kinda angsty but also hurt/comfort. mutual pining even tho you're both trying to pretend it isn't there. miscommunication. kinda mentions of cheating if you squint but not really. no one has cheated but what to call this vibe irdk so! also mentions of using the bathroom if that bothers you!! it's quick!

smut warnings: oral/fingering reader receiving, spanking, dirty talk, hints of dom!carmy, unprotected sex but backshots for 'safety', sexting, semi public sex, lots of hickies/bruises talk bc carmy's a lil shit, multiple mentions of masturbation for both, reader has a drunk bar make out phase post breakup. reader is afab but no major descriptors used.

word count: almost 9.2k. the longest thing i've written so far!

a/n: dare i say this might be my favorite thing i've written possibly. aiming to make this a three part series but possibly could go longer.... i hope you enjoy <3

maybe you and i were meant to be / maybe i'm crazy

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen’s eyes are trained on you from the second your front door opens. His hands stalled halfway through taking off his jacket, only one shoe clattering across your entryway.

“Where’ve you been tonight?”

Which you have no choice but to shoot him a warning glance in response. It was late, you didn’t have the energy for a fight and that’s the complete opposite reason of why you texted him to come over. “I was on a date, Carmen.”

He physically deflated at your answer. “Oh.”

You can’t meet his eye, can’t risk seeing his reaction. Would he be upset? Indifferent? It’s hard to decide which would be worse.

When you had broken up a few months ago the roles were clear - A case of ‘right person, wrong time’. He was busy, so endlessly busy. Working late into the night and heading in randomly during the morning or afternoon if he was needed. Which he could easily decide he was.

For as long as you could remember Carmen always took Tuesdays off to spend with you and get life in order. That way he had Monday to help the restaurant recover from the weekend and could trust them to handle what was, usually, an easier day. It was a tradition you took seriously and the two of you regularly made plans together every single Tuesday. Date nights, day trips, a mixture of adventures. It didn't matter what you were doing together so long as you had Tuesday to look forward to and help get you through the week.

Yet things started picking up. More celebrity dining requests, more magazine and tv interviews, more, more, more.

And it wasn’t that you misunderstood how important the restaurant was. Far from it. There were many nights where Carmen would come home a ball of anxiety because it took an hour longer than he anticipated and he knew it wasn’t fair to you. There would be a mess of apologies as he barreled in the door, bracing himself for a fight or to see your disappointed face. All of which you happily soothed by repeating constant mantras - The restaurant was his baby; you weren’t upset; take a deep breath; we’re okay.

Then eventually you stopped saying you weren’t upset, stopped saying you two were okay. Eventually you stopped waiting up for him at all. At first Carmen would shower and climb into bed, confused if he should attempt to hold you or not. Your sleeping (Fine, sometimes you faked being asleep too) frame with your back turned to him. The blankets pulled tight around your body acting like a shield.

Finally he just started sleeping on the couch.

So yeah, the fall apart came quick. It was an avalanche neither of you could control nor did either of you want. There was still love between the two of you - But again it’s the right person, wrong time.

You avoided each other for the following weeks. Carmen threw himself even more into work and you took a week of PTO to go visit one of your friends. He wondered if you were safe, you wondered why none of the people in the bar tasted the way he did. Your friend encouraged you with every sloppy make out conquest but it always ended there. You wanted to get Carmen out of your mind but weren’t ready for him to not be the last person who fully touched you.

It didn’t work but does it ever?

Carmen watched your Insta far more than he should have. Risking way too many glances down at his phone during his free time to see if there were any updates about how you were doing. As if you’d post photos with long captions that mimicked a therapy session but he didn’t know where else to go. Sydney would report back what your story shows no matter how much Carm insisted he didn’t care.

Because he didn’t, okay? He was fine. He knew it was for the best. Right?

And then you posted a photo of yourself in a low cut top laughing in a bookstore. He zoomed in to see what titles you had in your arms as if they were clues and his eyes definitely didn’t linger on the swell of your cleavage. He didn’t think about how many nights he took for granted watching as your back arched up under him and you begged for more. He didn’t think about the way you’d crawl into bed at night and his mind would instantly rid itself of anything but you. He didn’t jack off to memories of you in the shower every morning because thinking about someone else, watching porn of other people, it didn’t feel wrong. No, that wasn’t the case at all.

You, on the other hand, turned on Google alerts for anything relating to The Bear or Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto. Most of it was just good Yelp! ratings or fluff pieces from the local papers. He wasn’t one for posting on social media, in fact you weren’t sure he used it at all but you still posted like he was, but sometimes you’d find yourself scrolling through Sydney’s feed to see if she was giving you any crumbs. Sometimes, if you were really desperate, you’d find yourself in Richie’s feed even. It was pathetic but you can’t help it.

One late night you came across an Instagram story post Sydney had up. Carmen leaning against a pinball machine at some gaming bar downtown. His hair was pushed back, eyes crinkled up with laughter. He looked at ease, peaceful. You wondered if anyone there felt the same… Was someone whispering to their friends and trying to build the encouragement up to go talk to him? Would he respond?

Right, it wasn’t your place to care anymore. Yet you still cried yourself to sleep and yearned for when things felt so much easier.

Yeah, the breakup wasn’t exactly going well.

A few weeks ago you came across Carmen at the grocery store of all places. Both of you had gotten so used to doing the shopping Tuesday mornings and, logically, you were both comfortable going to the location just like you had been weekly for months. Your breath caught in your throat and God he looked better than you remembered. The first thing out of his mouth was, “Great sale on gouda this week.” And the only thing your brain could conjure up was, “Well that’s gouda.”

You both stayed silent for a moment before bursting out in laughter.

Laughter turned to getting lunch around the corner.

Lunch turned into you straddling Carmen’s waist in the car while parked in the very back corner of the parking lot and riding him until your eyes watered and you couldn’t focus long enough to keep a rhythm. He wrapped his arms, such strong arms, around your waist and fucked up into you for all that he was worth. Trying to prove himself in whatever capacity you allowed.

If he couldn’t love you like he wanted, he could at least fuck you better than anyone else would.

Once you two broke the seal of seeing each other it was hard to stop. There was almost a forbidden aspect to your relationship now that caused a small thrill to run down your spine every time you saw him late at night. You were pretty sure no one knew you started… Seeing each other again and you were both content keeping it a secret.

So that’s how you ended up here. Standing across from him at 11 o’clock at night on a random Wednesday. You try not to wonder if he left ‘early’ the second you reached out, instead convincing yourself that it just so happened to work out he was ready to go within minutes of you sending your ‘My place tonight?’ text during this horrific blind date your co-worker set up.

Jonathan, 6’1, finance major turned CPA for his family’s company. He was… Fine. Just fine. You left on good terms in case you wanted to call on him for back up one lonely night. The problem was no one else was Carmen no matter how hard you tried to look for him in the people that passed by.

And there he stood across from you with hair falling into his face and his eyes looking up at you like you’re crafted from Heaven. A skirt, thin tinted tights, a shirt that exposed just enough skin but not too much. The soft shimmer across your eyelids and glossy lips from the lip balm you’ve been continuously applying since you knew he was on the way. The last time he saw you like this was when you were fighting because Carmen accidentally showed up 15 minutes past when you were supposed to leave for a birthday party at your friend’s house and that night ended with you locking him out of the bedroom while he had to pretend he couldn’t hear you crying in the next room. He really didn’t mean to be late. Sometimes the nights just got taken away from him.

Carmen hated that you were dressed up for someone else but he pretends you just threw this on for him.

Your arms cross your chest, totally not attempting to push up your breasts, and you let out a sigh while you stare at Carmen. “This has to be the last time.” His face is stoic, a perfect poker face. The last time? Break up or not he couldn’t imagine there being a last time he saw you. Half the time he forgets, still referring to you as his partner while brushing it off and refusing to correct himself. Then there’s times where he comes home to his empty apartment and realizes you weren’t there to light the long forgotten candles on the coffee table or open up the windows to air the place out.

He closes the space between the two of you and stares at your face. Searching for answers he’s too scared to ask for. Your resolve is breaking, cracking under the weight of having him so close. Beautiful eyes staring at you, the way he smells like the cologne you bought for your last anniversary and clean laundry. If you weren’t so drunk on the sight of him you would have put it together that Carmen kept clean clothes at the Bear to make sure he could change before he came to see you.

You’re both silent for a moment before there’s two hands wrapping around either side of your neck and Carmen’s dragging you two together for a kiss. God, he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else kissing you. Would they even do it right? Do they know the way you moan when he licks into your mouth or the way you always grab ahold of his wrists when he cups your face? Do they know the way you forget to breathe sometimes when you’re lost in it? He’d have to pull back in order to give you a second to gasp in a rush of air. Does whoever you were with tonight know any of that?

You pull away from Carmen with a broken out moan, silva connecting your mouths and the faint taste of cigarettes on your tongue from him. Clamping your hands on his shoulders you just faintly push the two of you apart, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. Carmen crying during the break up, sobbing in your bed, living on autopilot for weeks, the way he kisses you like he’s scared it’s the last time anymore because it very well just might be. Everything coming back to you in flashes as he stands before you once again.

“I called you here for a reason, Carm.” His eyebrow is cocked, eyes flickering down to the bulge in his jeans that started growing the second he kissed you. “Uh - Yeah? Isn’t that what… I thought that’s what we were doing?” Carmen’s leaning in again, letting his lips connect to your neck. Warm kisses being pressed in a path up to just below your ear. “No uh, oh, remember how you let me keep the cast iron?” He hums in response, teeth nipping at your earlobe while broad hands start grabbing at your waist. “Yeah, uh huh, the cast iron skillet.” Fuck the stupid cast iron. He’s much more concerned with hooking fingers in the waistband of your skirt, attempting to pull it down while you’re fighting to stay focused.

“Well my friends came over the other night and oh Jesus.” He’s licking a strip up your neck now, only half focused on your story. “Carm, please, they were helping me clean up and someone left it soaking in hot water overnight.” That’s finally got him freezing in place, his aroused little sounds quickly turning into a groan of annoyance. “Fuck. That ruined-… I mean, the seasoning has to be ruined. Assuming it rusted?” You nod helpless, fingers dragging along his chest while Carmen stares over your shoulder.

His eye twitches involuntarily.

There’s a deep sigh coming from his body as he steps around you, finally kicking off his long forgotten second shoe before walking further into the apartment to head towards the kitchen.

And listen, it wasn’t that you were necessarily concerned so much with the pan. Sure the two of you had purchased it together during the first few weeks of talking. Carmen cooked breakfast with it every Tuesday morning and showed you how to care for this damn pan. It was the closest you two came to owning a pet just… In the form of a nine inch cast iron skillet. You were more curious if he would care. A simple way of testing the waters to see if he just cared about getting laid or still cared about you. The answer should have been obvious but you still had to know.

You follow behind him and wince at the stream of expletives that easily fall from his tongue at the sight of the pan in the sink. It wasn’t horrible but wasn’t ideal. “Y’know, crazy thing is I’m pretty sure I can guess who did this. They kept trying to convince me cast iron wasn’t any different from a standard pan no matter how many times I tried convincing them that just wasn’t the case.” He’s grumbling to himself while crouching down to fish out supplies from under the sink, easily navigating your apartment from memory. The two of you had bounced between your places and talked about moving in together once his lease was up. Going as far as touring a few locations but the conversation was long forgotten once the tensions started building.

As much as Carmen claims he didn’t see it coming, he resigned his lease almost two weeks before the break up officially happened.

You hop up onto the counter next to the sink and watch as Carmen gets to work restoring your pan. “Think it's gonna make it through? I can't believe this is how it might end for the poor thing. All because I wanted to make your chicken piccata.” A few of his recipes had stuck with you and sometimes you find yourself making them when you’re missing him extra at night.

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Just some surface damage s’all.” You watch as the muscles in Carmen’s arm move with the scrubbing motion, your lips itching to kiss over every exposed tattoo. Snap out of it! This is just sex between two consenting adults trying to let off some steam. That’s all. You’re both just comfortable and it would take way too much effort for someone random like Jonathan to learn what you like.

Carmen catches you staring at him, not that you were being subtle about it, and feels heat blooming in his chest. He grabs one of your kitchen towels and gives the skillet a good pat down before sitting it upside down to dry off. It’s not perfect, not yet at least, but he’s pretty sure he’ll explode if it takes any longer to finally get his hands on you.

“You look pretty tonight.” He’s coming to stand between your knees, reaching up to you with the hem of your skirt as you hum out a small “Thank you.” It seems like every time you see him lately you forget just how blue his eyes are. So easy to get lost in them especially from this close. Your hands come up to gently trace the features of his face. Just the ghost of a touch but Carmen’s soaking up the affection. He tilts his head in order to press a kiss to your palm.

His hands are dragging up your thighs, feeling the material of your tights under his touch. “Know how much you hate wearing these.” Your heartbeat is picking up so much it’s making you jittery, hands wrapping around the edge of the countertop to grip it as hard as you can. Keeping yourself steady. “Help me take ‘em off?” You arch your hips up off the counter as an invitation for Carmen. He’s wasting no time grabbing ahold of the waistband and dragging them down your body, groaning to himself as inch by inch your skin gets exposed to him.

Neither of you miss the way you press your thighs together once they’re freed, hips twitching in anticipation. The tights are getting tossed across your apartment and left to be tomorrow’s problem. Carmen falls to his knees in front of you, letting them dig into the harsh tile of your kitchen while in pursuit of making his mark on you. He’s grabbing ahold of your ankles, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder while the other is brought up to his lips.

Your eyes fall closed as Carmen starts trailing a string of delicate kisses along the length of your calf. His lips ghosting across your knee until he reaches the fleshy part of your thigh. While your hands finally escape the countertop and find their way laced into Carmen’s hair, he wraps his lips down against your thigh to start sucking a small bruise into your skin. “Carmy,” You hiss out, “What if I see Jonathan again? How am I gonna explain these?” But you’re not pulling his head away, instead doing quite the opposite by keeping his head in place.

Carmen practically growls against your skin, a low and guttural sound coming from the man. His grip on you tights while he mumbles against you, “Fuck Jonathan.” You scrub your fingers against his scalp as Carmen finds another patch of skin on the opposite thigh to begin sucking a bruise into. His head ducking lower and lower under your skirt, the material finally getting you to pull your hands away from him.

Against all better judgment your thighs fall more open as he works his way down your thighs. There’s a series of small moans and whimpers coming out of you with no control as he reaches the top of your thigh, his nose dragging along the cloth covering your core. “D’you wear these for him? Or did you put them on knowing you’d end up texting me.” It’s impossible to answer when you feel his tongue drag along you, your hips rocking up towards his mouth. He’s bringing his hands up under your skirt now too and grabbing handfuls of where your thighs meet your hips to hold you down in place.

“They’re purple, aren’t they?” A color Carmen had long ago decided he liked best on you. Something about the way the color compliments your skin… In all honesty, you were pretty sure he had purchased the exact pair you were wearing. You started the night with no intention of your date getting anywhere near your bed but instead being under the frame of the man who was exactly where you wanted him.

He guides you to scoot you closer towards the edge of the counter, making sure you’re comfortable before mouthing over you once again. Hot, open mouth kisses being pressed almost exactly where you need them. One of his hands comes around your frame to grab a handful of the fleshy part of your ass while the other hooks a finger into your underwear, pulling the material to the side to expose you.

There’s cool air being blown against your overheated body and your hands fly back to clutch at his back, his neck, the hair that’s exposed from under your skirt. Whatever inch of him you can find is being clung to like a lifeboat. He’s kissing the skin where your thigh meets your center, lips ghosting along the outer side of your folds. It only takes a few more pathetic whimpers before he finally takes pity on you and you feel his tongue go flat at the base of your hole, dragging up long and slow all the way to your clit.

He groans into your core and the vibrations make you start to lose your mind. “Fuck. Fuck!” Carmen’s got your clit between his lips now, bobbing his head just slightly while he goes right to sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. If you didn’t want to be teased then he’d give you everything you wanted. One of his hands comes up under his chin now, a finger pressing into your tight entrance as his tongue works to lap at your clit, your folds, even dipping into you whenever his finger pulls all the way out.

A second finger slides into you while his attention focuses back to making out with your clit. You can’t keep track of the way he alternates between kissing and licking at you while his fingers push in as deep as he can get them. “So good, Baby.” Baby. It comes out of you by force of habit and it makes him twitch in his boxes. If you weren’t so drunk on him you probably would have started overthinking but he’s making sure your focus is on nothing else but his mouth for now. Carmen’s chin is slick with everything you’re giving him as he eats you out as if he’s a dying man and this is his last source of solace in the world.

“C’mon Honey.” He’s cooing against you, fingers crooked just how he knows you like it. There’s sloppy licks being delivered to your clit as his fingers pump in and out. His hand finally leaves it’s grip on your ass to apply a gentle pressure to the top of your mound, pressing down against the flesh to add yet another sensation. “Can feel how tight you’re getting. You wanna come for me so bad, don’t you? Be good for me.”

Your hands fist around Carmen’s hair, hips rocking up against him and it doesn’t take long for an orgasm to wash over your body. You seize up at the feeling, thighs clamping around Carmen’s head as he licks you through it. He’s only giving you a moment to recover when you feel his fingers slide out of your sensitive body and he can’t help but go back to licking out the mess you’ve made.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me, Carmen.”

He’s smirking against you but taking the hint. Your thighs shaking as he pulls back from under your skirt, taking a moment to appreciate the handiwork that was the bruises covering your thighs while you take a moment to recover. The way your pussy looks so pretty covered in the mixture of your arousal and his spit. Carmen can’t help himself but to swirl his thumb around your clit, your hips jolting up as you reach out to grab ahold of his wrist. “Need a minute please.”

Carmen nods and stands up, wasting no time making work of unbuckling his belt. You collect your thoughts well enough to start unbuttoning his jeans for him, letting your fingers linger on his jean clad hardened length. “You, uh -” You won’t meet his eye, opting instead to start pulling his pants down his toned thighs. “You still okay not using a condom?” A roundabout way of saying ‘I’m clean, are you?’. Carmen nods as if it’s the most insane question in the world. Even if he’s not with you anymore, it’s still only you for him for as long as he can see coming. “No one but you.”

You can’t meet his eye, a wave of guilt washing over you concerning your earlier date with Jonanthan that quickly gets pushed away when Carmy grabs ahold of your jaw and brings you in for a haphazard kiss. Mindless, heavenly kissing. The two of you getting lost in the way your tongues know just how to navigate one another while your hand slides into his boxes and begins lazily

“Gotta fuck you or I’m gonna cum on your hand like a fuckin’ teenager.” You giggle into his mouth but slide yourself off the counter nonetheless. Giving him one more tender kiss before turning around to bend yourself over the counter. It’s not the most gracious process but you’re tugging your shirt over your head on the way down, pitching it somewhere else to deal with later.

He’s looking at every inch of you. Underwear still pulled to the side, the way the lace of your bra looks against your back. Memorizing every detail he possibly can just in case you wise up and stop letting him come over to defile you like this at night.

Carmen is dragging the head of his cock through your folds, tapping it against your clit while you whine and rut back against him. The weight of his jeans and belt resting heavy against his ankles and keeping him grounded enough to not spill his load before he even makes it inside of you. You weren’t used to taking him all the time anymore, a thought Carmen can’t dwell on, so he goes inch by inch and gives you time to adjust to the girth of him. He was thicker than anyone you’d been with before and every random hookup together lately reminds you of the first time you felt him stretch you out.

It burns in the best way possible and he’s so tender while you get adjusted. Waiting until you start fucking yourself against his length to take that as his sign you were finally ready for him. Carmen still starts slow, a teasing pace of pulling himself nearly all the way out before sinking right back in. “Pussy’s like heaven.” It makes you oddly proud to hear him call that out. To know you still have an affect on him after all this time.

“Think about fuckin’ you all the time.” He’s picking up speed now, “Think about how good you feel stretched around me. Such a good slut for me, aren’t you? Bending over and practically begging for it.” His words, once again, make your head spin. It was a common theme with Carmen. Your fingers lace in your own hair, desperate to grab ahold of something. “Always wanting you to fuck me, Carm. Dream about how good you make me feel.” Like you two were meant to fit together perfectly.

There’s a lewd clapping noise coming from the way your ass smacks against his frame with each deep thrust. Eventually your arms give out, torso falling flat against the shockingly still cool countertop while Carmen fucks into you for all he’s worth. A firm slap is being delivered to your ass that causes you to yelp out, rolling your hips back against him at the same time as an act of encouragement.

His mind is taken up with how good you feel. You’re perfectly stretched around him and leaking out around his base. So wet, so beautiful, so perfect. There’s a hand sliding up your back until it’s fisting around your hair, gently tugging at it and the new sensation has these pornstar worthy moans escaping you. Your loud and needy brain is completely empty as Carmen destroys you the way he knows how.

“D’you think about me fucking you while you were sitting across from some asshole all night? Poor little pussy almost got fucked by someone who doesn’t know how to treat it.” His words are so casually spoken with just the right amount of bite that it’s causing your brain to melt. Jonathan didn’t stand a chance of getting within two feet of your panties, just another mindless date in your series of attempted ways to ‘get over Carmen’ which clearly wasn’t going well. He bottoms out in you, every inch of his length pressed as firmly as he can into your core. It’s so much, so full and he’s got you pinned in place. Unable to do anything but be used by him, just how you both know you love to be. “Or did you go just to make me jealous? Put on your slutty little panties and went to dinner knowing you’d text me to come fuck you tonight.”

He’s grinding his hips into you on the impossible quest to get even deeper. It’s possessive, claiming, and you’d probably even be a little annoyed by his behavior if you were in a better state of mind. For now you’re bent over the counter with bruises blooming all over your thighs and enjoying an odd jealous streak coming from someone who, technically, has no right to be jealous. It’s making you feel dizzy and your heart throb and your pussy clenching around him. “You gonna keep talking or you gonna fuck me, Carm? ‘Cause if not I’ll call him to finish the job.”

You liked riling him up.

Another sharp smack is being dealt to your ass when Carmen starts to pick the pace back up. His hands are tight on your hips and his pace is brutal. There’s grunts coming from behind you that are making your head spin and if you were more coherent you’d be a bit more embarrassed about the drool sliding from the corner of your mouth as your boyfrie-….. Well, as Carmen takes care of you. He’s admiring the bloom of his handprint on your skin, brushing his hand along it before pressing firmly down to help soothe the buzzing sting of pain.

He wasn’t fucking you as often, didn’t have you nearly as well trained anymore. These bi-weekly meetings are not doing nearly enough for your body. He used to be able to fuck you right through an orgasm and you’d keep going. So used to him working your oversensitive clit to his liking. Now you whine while grabbing his wrist and whimper out pleas for him to give you a few minutes. He hates not knowing your body as well as he used to even if he still knows you pretty damn well.

So when he feels you getting closer, he’s taking note. Keeping his pace exactly the same and letting his hand crash down against the tender flesh of your ass again. “You gonna give me another? C’mon, Honey. Can feel how bad you need it.” And you do. God you need every orgasm you’re lucky enough to get from him.

Your hips buck and twitch and you let out a series of uncontrolled moans as your orgasm starts to wash over your body. If Carmen wasn’t between your legs then your thighs would have snapped shut while your toes curled and your heart started beating faster. You could practically hear it beating in your own ears. “S’good, so good. Thank you, thank you. Shit, thank you.” A mess but you couldn’t judge yourself.

Carmen’s pulling out when he’s close after just a few more strokes, frantically jerking off his length to keep the sensation going. You’re rolling your hips back and riding out the waves of your own orgasm, glancing back over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Carmen with his head tossed back and brows knitted together in concentration. “Come on me, Baby. Wanna feel every drip on my skin. Maybe I’ll let you take a picture of it dripping down all the pretty bruises you gave me.”

That’s all it takes for him to come undone. Warm spurts of cum landing along your back, your thighs, some of it dripping down your folds. The feeling is pulling wanton moans from your mouth that send Carmen into orbit. God, he doesn’t want to come back down to Earth. Collecting his breath and trying to keep himself upright while the aftershocks of his orgasm wrack through his body. How was he supposed to stay away from you when it felt like this? Especially when you just kept calling him baby.

He stopped cumming inside of you since the breakup. It made sense, kinda. But you hated it. Felt like a waste even though you wouldn’t overstep and ask for him to go back to finishing inside of you. He would, by the way. Without a second thought he’d bury himself in until he couldn’t go any further and fuck his cum into you as deep as possible.

You feel a finger swiping up some of his cum off your backside and soon enough it’s pressed to your lips. Without a second thought you take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while licking him clean. He wants some of it inside of you one way or another. A subtle way of still putting his claim on you.

The two of you take a moment to recover after Carmen pops his finger out of your mouth. His hands are running a circuit up and down the side of your thighs and torso, still enjoying the view of your body relaxed against the counter in front of him. The tile was starting to become painful as your stomach bent over it but you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet. You didn’t fully trust your legs to support your weight without the counter for support.

Carmen’s rustling around behind you now. Reaching down to pull up just his boxes but kick his jeans the rest of the way off finally. He’s not ready for the stimulation of such a heavy material against his sensitive skin yet. There’s a clattering from the sink area as he retrieves another towel to get wet for you and a cup to fill with water. Your eyes feel heavy. Mind’s at ease having Carmen around again, not that you’ll admit it, and your body feeling languid after being fucked so well.

There’s a glass of water being sat in front of you. “Drink.” So you prop yourself up on your elbows and nurse small sips of the water while the cool rag gets to work wiping down your backside from the mess he made. His fingers ghost along the tender flesh of your ass where he was spanking, “Feeling alright?” You hum into the cup, giving him a small waggle of your behind to reassure any concerns he had.

He gets you cleaned up in silence, letting the both of you enjoy the simple moment. Carmen always prided himself on taking care of you. There’s warm hands, still damp from cleaning you up, rubbing up the sides of your torso before wrapping around the tops of your shoulders. His hips rub along your backside and you just feel so warm, so safe like this. “We gotta get you to bed.”

You just sigh and scrub your hands over your face. A beat of silence passes while you collect your thoughts. “Carm, I don’t think I can stand up.” Your legs are still slightly shaking and your mind has yet to catch up with your body.

Laughter’s coming from behind you as he delivers a playful swat to your ass. “C’mon I’ll get you there.” This feels so simple. You find yourself questioning why the two of you even broke up to begin with when the good moments were this good. Easy, content, safe. Would you ever be able to find this again? Would he?

He’s grabbing ahold of your waist while pulling you back into his chest. Your head falls back against his shoulder and Carmen allows his lips to once again find your exposed neck. A series of gentle kisses being placed as his arms snake tighter around your body. “Still feeling okay?” You let out a content hum and allow yourself to be held by him. “Feel better than I have all week. Thank you, Carm.” You feel him smile against your skin as he places another delicate kiss. “Always.”

The two of you stay intertwined until Carmen starts to encourage the shuffle towards your bedroom. He makes sure you get cleaned up and ready for bed. Brings you one of your sleep shirts while you brush your teeth and tries to not overthink when you offer him a toothbrush of his own because you just so happened to have an extra. Gives you privacy when you complain about needing to pee and you find it odd there’s a tug at your chest when he ducked out of the room. Part of you hated being that couple who left the door open or used the restroom while the other showered, yadda yadda. It was a sign of comfort and the door being pulled shut behind Carmen was a sign that comfort was long gone.

Not that you cared. Totally didn’t care at all.

He’s going to just tuck you in at first until you’re clutching at his frame and pulling him into bed next to you. Carmen never could say no when it came to you, especially when he feels his back sinking into your soft bed and your warm body curling up along his side. He should go. Get home before it’s too late and try to get some sleep. He’s already planning on getting to work early to avoid having too much free time to think about tonight in detail.

But his clothes feel so far away and the long day is starting to finally hit him. You can practically hear him thinking over his options and your breathing starts skipping as you feel him begin to pull away.

“Carmen.” Your grip on his chest tightens and it pulls directly at his heart. Since this whole… Situation started he never stayed the night when your meetings would run this late. Always picking his clothes up out of piles on the floor and mumbling something about needing to get home to get stuff together from work. You never asked him to stay anyway. Neither of you knew if that would make an already weird and complicated situation even worse.

But tonight was different.

There were hints of a storm in the distance you start telling yourself. If you focused you could hear thunder, somewhere, out there and you just wanted Carmen safe for his sake. That’s all. So you pathetically cling to him and hope you don’t kick yourself out of embarrassment in the morning. It takes just a moment of him looking down at you to understand what you can’t say and he’s giving you a little nod in response. His arms wrap around your shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your head. Kissing every inch of you had to be one of his greatest pleasures in life.

“Remind me to season that skillet in the morning.”

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen, shockingly, sleeps through the night. The warmth of your body next to him coupled with your excellent sleeping experience. A comfortable bed with good pillows, a white noise machine in the corner of your room (the ice maker in the fridge at Carmy’s would constantly go off so you got used to sleeping with background noise to cover it up), it was the best night of rest he’s had in months.

Your sheets smell like home.

He’s slowly waking up now and his first thought is how much he misses the weight of your breast in his hand. Second thought is how much he needs to pee but damn your bed is comfortable.

Carmen allows his body to wake up slowly. Stretching his arms out above his head and letting out a satisfied grunt at the feeling of his well rested muscles. Blinking his eyes awake just enough to take in the sight of all the trinkets and items that covered your space. There’s some things he notices that he knows for a fact he purchased you. Bottles of perfume, books you keep telling yourself you need to read, cups you constantly forget to bring back into the kitchen until you’re fully out of them.

Did you keep any of the pictures? Photo strips from Navy Pier and the holiday market at Wrigley Field. Everything from the disposable camera you brought along on road trips and vacations. The polaroids that once littered a cork board in your living room that the two of you added pictures to so often. If he looked around enough would he find them tucked away safely in a box or did you pitch them when you knew the two of you were through.

Carmen still has one. You took most of them while you packed up your things from his place and refused to let him carry any of the boxes downstairs. So stubborn, so full of hurt pride. He just spent most of the day trying to stand out of your way but always available in case you finally admitted that you needed help. Maybe a small part of him hoped that as you packed up so many memories it would trigger a ‘What are we doing?’ reaction and you’d go running into his arms.

You never did.

But you did take one trip down to your car with an overstuffed Ikea bag over your shoulder and balancing a box on your hip. Carmen knew he didn’t have long, and it kind of felt like stealing, but he rushed over to the box you just started packing up and rifles through the photos as fast as he possibly could. It took a moment of digging before there it was. A polaroid photo someone took of the two of you on New Year’s Eve. You’re wearing some cheesy headband and he has those tacky sunglasses on that show off the incoming year on them. His arms are wrapped low around your waist as he stands behind you, one of your hands resting on top of his while the other is reaching up and back to cup his jaw. You’re both grinning and laughing in the photos and nothing bad has happened yet.

He hears you shuffling back up the stairs so he’s quickly throwing the box back together after sliding the photo into his pocket and rushing back to stand in the kitchen. Acting like nothing was happening. You didn’t even look over at him so it wasn’t like he had to put up much of a show anway.

It’s still safely tucked into his wallet.

The sound of the front door opening and hushed whispers are finally pulling him from his half asleep, reflective state. It looks like this day is getting started if he wants it to or not. He’s tilting his head to press it into the pillow underneath him, allowing one last deep inhale to remind himself exactly what your scent smells like before forcing his body to be pushed out of your bed.

Carmen turns the corner in just his boxer briefs and you’re not convinced you aren’t still dreaming because fuck he looks good. His hair’s a mess from the combination of you playing with it all night and him sleeping so well. One of his hands is scratching low on his hips while he takes in the sight of you in the kitchen.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so comfortable walking around your apartment half dressed still but God is this relationship situation getting messier since the day since the two of you reconnected.

“Ordered some breakfast from Yolk. Figured you were hungry and I’m sure you have to run off this morning but I uh-…. I just wanted to make sure you were fed.” You nod to yourself. Giving him an out as you start popping open food boxes. There was just over an hour until you had to get to work too so there were multiple excuses possible for this morning to end as early as it needed to.

In an odd, roundabout, time to head back to therapy kind of way it almost feels like you’re dating your ex.

“Yeah.” He nods to himself and desperately wishes he had deodorant, cologne, fuck even Axe body spray. Something to make himself smell better or feel more presentable for you. “Richie actually tried installing fuckin’ bidets to the toilets last night. Kept on running his mouth about how prestigious they are and he, obviously, doesn’t know how to install bidets. So the bathrooms are a little-“ He waves his hands through the air.

“Shitty?”

Second questionable pun you’ve made lately. Pull it together.

There’s a breathy little laugh coming out, “Yeah, shitty.” Carmen’s peeking over your shoulder as you plate up breakfast, sneaking a piece of bacon from under your arm before pressing a kiss to the top of your ear. “Thank you for ordering this.”

You nod and try to pretend you didn’t stop breathing having him so close to you under the soft morning light.

He leaves $60 tucked under a vase on your dining table to cover breakfast.

————

11:52 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Richie put his foot down and we’re stuck getting the bidets

[DO NOT ANSWER]: If you’re wondering how my day is going

12:17 pm

Shockingly my day is much less toilet related. I hope it’s going well.

4:39 pm

[DO NOT ANSWER]: I know so much about bathrooms now

————

You laugh a little too loud as the alert illuminates your phone. There’s a fond tugging at your heart as the ‘normal’ conversations fills your chat history instead of the short “My place tn” or “I still can’t find my jacket. You have to have it”. Maybe saving him as do not answer seemed too harsh but having his contact show up as a photo of you two cuddled up with the Chicago skyline in the background, an innocent and horrifically cheesy “Baby Boy 💙” contact name modeled after Richie saying you baby him too much one night. Every time it flashed across your screen and Richie saw he gave you guys an endless amount of shit. It became a constant bit that none of you got tired of at the time.

You were trying to separate yourself from your past with him as much as possible at first but now those lines just keep getting more and more blurred.

One of your coworkers grabs your attention away from your phone thus leaving Carmen’s message on read. He tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him as he gets to work prepping for tonight’s service. Who wants to talk about bathrooms with their… Fuck buddy? Ex? God that’s still so weird to say.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Your mind was haunted by thoughts of Carmen Berzatto all day.

No matter how many busy tasks you assigned yourself he always seemed to creep back in. You’d look around for him when a joke landed well at work and the group you were with erupted into laughter. Could easily picture his head thrown back as he scrubs over his face in an attempt to muffle the sound. When you were standing alone your mind wandered off to the way he treated you last night. So claiming. Expertly working your body the way only he could after so much time of getting to know it.

The bed feels so much

You throw the blanket away from your frame and watch as it bundles up beside you. Is this crazy? It feels crazy. You shake out the nerves, fluffing up your shorts and primping yourself for the photo. It takes one, two, seven pictures to get just the right angle. An image of your thighs against the bedding and your oversized sleep shorts bunched up all the way down your legs. Taking a deep breath you steel your spine and pull up Carmen’s contact.

————

11:28 pm

Headed to bed

ONE IMAGE ATTACHED

11:29 pm

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Fuck.

11:31 pm

Goodnight Carmen <3

2:12 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Can’t stop thinking about you

ONE VIDEO ATTACHED

————

The sun is warm against your skin as it slowly wakes you up. There’s an air purifier rattling in the corner that acts half as white noise while you sleep, half to soak up the smells of Chicago. Sometimes when Carmen’s especially exhausted you have to bring out the big boy and ask your Google home to play sleep sounds to mask him snoring all night. You typically didn’t mind the sound, knowing it’s a sign of just how badly he needed a good night’s rest.

You’re fishing your phone out of the comforter in a haste to click off the horrific sound of the alarm and your eyes are barely open when you see the alert. A preview image popping up and you can just barely a blurry image of - “Holy fuck!”

Your free hand flies up to clamp over your mouth as a mix of gasps and ‘no fucking way’ come out of you with zero control. With shaking hands you open up the video, half tempted to pinch yourself with a video of Carmen fills your screen. His hand rubbing over the bulge in his boxers and there’s a mess of shaky breathing coming from behind the phone. You can’t get the volume turned all the way up fast enough and you’re terrified to miss a single sound.

And there he is.

Fishing his cock out of his boxers and stroking himself for you. Illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table and his hand over lubricated to mimic how wet you get for him. He’s a mess of filthy moans, bucking hips, are you dreaming?

The combination of the sun beating in and the way this video is making your body go hot is too much. You’re overheating, kicking the blankets away from you while your hand goes into your shorts on instinct. Toying with your clit even though you don’t have much time to spare as you watch Carmen get off for you.

————

8:04 am

HEART REACTED TO A VIDEO

Mine tonight?

Fuck you sound so good

Wish I would have been there to clean you up

Say my name more next time please

How am I supposed to go to work now

————

No response. You aren’t surprised, he’s typically busy in the morning.

So you go along your day and let yourself enjoy the thought of Carmen coming back over tonight to take care of you. You had thought letting him back in was a risky move but things seemed fine so far. Settling into the new version of what normal was going to look like. Maybe things would end up being some version of alright after all.

A chirp from your phone catches your attention and you’re instantly uninvested in whatever task was at hand. It might be a little pathetic how excited you were but that is besides the point.

————

10:32 am

[CARMEN]: Busy tonight

————

Busy tonight? Go fuck yourself Carmen!

You waited all morning and THAT’S the response you get? Were the multiple texts too much? Did you come off too clingy? Sure he just stayed the night, was two times in one week where he drew the line?

So you leave him on read and take away the heart from his video. Change his name back to DO NOT ANSWER and instantly feel the urge to get off tonight leaving your body. Replaced by a subtle anger that only he can bring out of you.

The workday seems to go by so much quicker as you have this internal argument with yourself and mentally pick a battle with Carmen. Maybe you were silly to think things would… What? Go back to the way they were? No, of course not.

Ugh!

Carmen who, by the way, truly was slammed. Got stuck hosting an event for an old family friend that he barely knew but was convinced it’d be good for business. He’s overwhelmed by work and anxious with his relationship with you. The breakup was horrific. One of the worst things he’s had to experience so far which certainly says a lot. At the very least - It made sense. This though? Sleeping together, fucking when you have shitty dates and he’s your second choice for the night, taking pictures of dumb things he sees during the day because it made him think of you but never actually sending them, it made zero sense.

If only there was something the two of you could do to figure this whole mess out.

But alas.

You bring home a salad that’s far healthier than anything you’ve eaten all week accompanied by some fresh pressed green juice nonsense you lie to yourself and mentally say is delicious. The boy detox starts now.

The shower you take that night must last an hour. Every inch of your body gets scrubbed, your face and hair both get a mixture of treatments and masks. You primp and polish yourself up and convince yourself that this is all for you and not so you look better than ever and Carmen will have to regret his stupid and shitty ‘Busy tonight’ text because you were also just like so, so busy and -

Fuck Carmen Berzatto.

You decide you could go the rest of your life without hearing from him and be just fine. It was his loss. You’re funny, beautiful, and excellent in the bedroom. There’s thousands of people out there dreaming about finding someone like you!

This internal argument keeps going. And you know what’s annoying? The second you fling yourself into bed you realize he left his scent all over your sheets still. It hasn’t gone away - Cologne mixed with Carmen. And you 100% aren’t hunting out the scent nor are you hunting out a reason to stay annoyed with him. Not at all. So you get back out of bed and grab the fabric freshener to spray your sheets back down with, giving it a minute to dry before falling face first into the mattress with an annoyed huff.

So yeah, fuck him. You hope you never hear from him again and toss your phone on the other side of the bed. Forcing your eyes shut and making your mind go blank because otherwise you’ll stew all night thus continuing this Carmen induced spiral.

————

1:47 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Hey

————

Fuck.

#♡: c.b.#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #the bear #the bear fic #the bear smut #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmy the bear #carmy bearzatto x you

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parfaitblogs · 3 months

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scared of my guitar ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you fall out of love, and he notices.

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: established relationship. they suck at communicating. whole lot of nothing again why can't i write guys. no happy ending. word count: 1.2k a/n: this is for the girls who are the problem in their relationships!! i see u!! i hear u!!! thank u olivia rodrigo for representing us.

also posted here on my ao3 !

You were perhaps the most awful and cruel person in the world.

Those were the self-deprecating thoughts you had every single night, morning, and every hour in between. Thoughts you have been having for a month now, and thoughts you were praying would go away. Because the longer you have them, the more solidified they become in your brain, and the closer you get to knowing you need to address them. With him.

The man currently in your kitchen, making two separate cups of tea, like he did every night he was home. Putting all his love and care into making it the way you like, the way you had taught him. Which, truthfully, didn't take long to teach him — he was a fast learner. Always taking the first sip and telling you if it was still too hot to drink, burning his own mouth and allowing you to scold him for it. A nighttime routine that went on for as long as you could remember.

But it wasn't enough.

You knew he'd crack you open eventually. He didn't need to be a profiler to read you — he knew more about you than you sometimes thought you knew about yourself. He used to coax you to open up to him about past traumas, never going too far, always pushing just enough to get you to share what you needed to. He was sometimes so in tune with your emotions you wondered if he had crawled into your brain and set up camp the day you two met.

But no, that was just Spencer.

The first time he asked if something was wrong was three months ago. He had come home from a particularly long case, and you didn't greet him at the door with the same enthusiasm you usually did. Sure, you were happy, but there was a certain spark behind your eyes missing. But it was two in the morning, and you were technically exhausted, so you were able to blame it on that. He was skeptical, but he knew you, and he knew not to push it.

The second time he confronted you, you had spent an entire week without spending time with him. You both worked full time, but you also always made time for each other. Whether that be as planned as a Friday night movie, or as simple as picking the other up from work. But you had successfully avoided him outside of simple 'good morning's' and 'good night's'.

He had sat you down the following Tuesday night, and asked if things between you two were okay. You lied, and said yes, and you watched him become even more suspicious than the time before. He didn't believe you. Again, he didn't push it.

A small part of you wished he would've. Maybe you could've had the difficult conversation, and it would be over, and you'd be sitting on your couch with a shattered heart over a broken relationship, instead of a shattered heart over one that still exists.

You knew it was coming when he had sat down with the teas, placing both of them on the coffee table, and you two sitting in an awkward silence for a few moments.

You lifted your head to glance at him, expecting him to be staring at you, but he wasn't. His eyes, instead, trained on the two coffee mugs, cogs turning in his brain. A sight — watching him think — that used to bring you so much joy, now filling your stomach with an uncomfortable sense of anxiety.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off before you could, his gaze unwavering from the mugs.

"What's wrong?"

What a layered question, you thought, bitterly. Because what wasn't wrong?

You wanted to deflect it, tell him nothing, again, say you were fine. But with how serious he seemed, you decided against it. He wouldn't let that pass this time.

"I don't know," you settled on saying, voice shaky, unsure how to actually say what you were feeling.

He slowly nodded his head, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Can you try to know, please?"

He still wasn't looking at you.

You inhaled, eyes fluttering as you attempted to regain your emotions, blinking away the tears filling them already. God, confrontation was hard.

When you were silent for probably too many minutes, he turned his head to look at you, the sight cracking right down the centre of your heart.

He wasn't sad looking, per se. Exhausted was probably the better word for it. His eyes devoid of most emotion, his naturally downturned lips frowning further. And that wasn't even the most painful part of it. No, it was the barely audible,

"You don't love me anymore, do you?"

His voice impossibly small, eyes blinking a few times, as if he was doing what you had done and fighting back his own tears. If somebody had shoved a knife in your abdomen fifty times over, twisting it every time, you decided it would hurt less than that.

You couldn't find an answer, your lips parting and closing three or four times as you wracked your brain for something — anything — to say that would take that expression off his face. But anything like that would be a lie, and he would see right through it. You knew that.

So, you settled on a small shake of your head, averting your eyes for your own sake.

He didn't say anything; simply inhaled sharply and nodded his own head, fingers flexing and stretching against each other in a nervous habit you had noticed what felt like years ago.

"How long?" he then asked, and you, for the umpteenth time that night, wanted to lie.

But you didn't. "I had my first doubt four months ago," you said. "But three months ago."

"And you waited four months to tell me?" his voice was impossibly strained.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "I didn't know if it was just a fleeting thought because you weren't home or not."

"Right," he answered, hands running down his face, index fingers digging into his eyes. "So then you waited three months after you realised?"

"I didn't know how to bring it up."

You could see the frustration slowly settling in his chest, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Spencer—"

"—No," he cut you off, shooting a bullet through your heart as his eyes fluttered shut, and he paused, swallowing back what you figured would be another sob. And you couldn't even blame him. "No, don't—don't justify it. Please. You strung me along for three months?"

Yes, you did. And you felt awful, staring at him as he drummed his fingers against his thighs; an anxious tic, his eyes settling back on your body.

"I'm sorry."

It was a pathetic apology, as if it could take back the past three months of interactions he was no doubt overanalysing inside his brain. It couldn't. You knew that, he knew that.

"Why did you stay?" he finally asked after an eternally long silence between you two.

"I was scared," you whispered. Not intentionally — that's just how small your voice comes out, and it's embarrassing.

"Of what?"

"Regretting it."

He let out a sigh, nodding his head. He could at least understand that. "I wish you would've told me."

"Me too."

More silence, more anxious heart-beating and more uncomfortable eye contact to each other.

"I'm sorry," you repeat, breaking the silence.

He merely nodded his head, eyes searching over your face for a few more seconds, before he stood up, picking up his phone from the coffee table and pocketing it.

"Yeah," he said, quietly. "So am I."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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alotofpockets · 7 months

Text

Revelation | Daphne van Domselaar x Reader

Summary: Everyone on the team knows you and Daphne like each other, except the two of you. Will a minor injury change that?

A/n: Happy birthday to my favourite goalie!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

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Ask any one of your national team teammates, and they would say that you liked Daphne and that Daphne liked you. The only two people on the team that were oblivious to this were Daphne and yourself. Your teammates tried to get the two of you together many times, but they had given up after they kept hearing “She doesn’t feel the same way.” or “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.” They figured that the two of you would figure it out eventually, and that they would just have to endure the endless pining you did over each other.

With another national camp well underway, you were spending a lot of your downtime either with Daphne or the whole team. Downtime with the whole team usually consisted of an activity at the hotel, while for downtime with just Daphne, you loved to explore the city you were currently staying in.

The latter being your plan for this morning. After having breakfast with the rest of your teammates, Daphne was waiting for you at the exit while you were still talking to Daan. She looked over her shoulder to where you kept looking, and smirked when she saw the reason. “Oh sorry, I didn't mean to keep your girlfriend waiting.” Your cheeks flushed red at her comment. “Daphne is not my girlfriend.” Danielle loved to tease you, so she continued. “I mean I never mentioned a name.” With a roll of your eyes you playfully shove Daan, and make your way over to Daphne. “Ready to go?” She asked with a big smile, you nodded in response and the two of you were out of the door.

You spend some time walking around the city, visiting some spots you had previously planned out, as well as admiring the places you found along the way. When you both got hungry again, you found a cute lunch spot, and enjoyed some food together. Spending time with Daphne was always easy, the two of you could talk for hours on end and you would never get bored.

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y/n_y/l/n just posted to their story

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When you got back to the hotel, you went your separate ways. Daphne headed to the common room, where some of the team had gathered, while you headed to your room. The moment Daphne was in the eyesight of her teammates, Kerstin spoke up. “How was your date with the missus?” Her comment earned her a snicker from a few of the other girls, and a blushing Daphne. “It wasn't a date, and she’s not my missus, but our day was good.” Kerstin shrugged her shoulders, “Did you ask her if she wanted it to be a date? I’m sure she would’ve said yes.” Daphne plopped down on the couch, “I thought you had all dropped this.” She says in defeat. “Well, in our defence, we thought you would have asked her out by now.” This stayed the topic for the next hour, which made Daphne glad to hear that it was time to head out to the stadium for tonight’s match.

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oranjeleeuwinnen just posted to their story

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Your match against Germany was well underway. Both teams were strong, and no goals had been scored so far. Though, there had been many attempts on both sides. As a striker you were getting frustrated that none of your balls were hitting the back of the net, but you had to set those frustrations aside and keep pushing for the win.

It was currently Germany working on their attack, with a long ball over the midfield. The ball had the Dutch defenders running back along with the German player that was making the run. You were too far up on the field to be of any real help, but you moved down a bit along with the German defence line moving up.

Daphne read the situation well and saw that she had to get out of her goal for a one on one with the German striker. She blocked the ball with her whole body effectively, making it deflect out of play for a corner, but before she realised that, a sharp pain shot through her hand. The German player wasn’t able to stop her run in time, and landed on Daphne’s hand with her boot.

You ran down the field to make your way towards her, when you saw that she stayed down and clutched her hand to her chest. “What happened?” You hadn’t seen the moment happen since there were many players between you and her, but by the tears in her eyes you knew that she was in pain. “She stood on my hand.” You wince at the thought on the studded boots hitting her hands. “Ouch.” You comment, making Daphne chuckle, “You could say that yes.” You help her take off her glove, before the medics arrive, and look it over. There didn’t seem to be any superficial wounds, which you hoped was a good thing.

When the medics arrived, you stayed by Daphne’s side. They examined her hand properly, and didn’t think it was injured, though they expected it would bruise later. She got handed an ice pack to put on her hand for a moment, to relieve some of the pain. “Are you good to continue?” They asked her. “I think so.” The medical team took back the ice packs, and you took over again. You held out her glove, and helped her put it on. After you help her back up, you wipe away the tears that were still present on her face, before you both made your way back to your own places on the field.

Daphne continued playing the rest of the match, you were worried for her hand the whole time, but were able to push the worrying to the back of your mind. You had a match to win, and needed your focus for that. With a last minute goal by Damaris, from your assist, the Netherlands managed to win the match.

As a team you loved to celebrate your wins, but seeing as tomorrow morning you would be an early wake up call for another training session, you decided on a movie night together. Everyone was gathered in the common room, the movie had been playing for a good fifteen minutes, but your focus was not on the screen. Instead your eyes kept making their way over to Daphne’s hand, the worry for her well being now being at the top of your mind. Daphne who was sitting next to you realised you kept watching her hand. “I’m okay, really.” She whispered, not wanting to interrupt the movie for the rest of the team. “But,” You reach for her hand, inspecting it up close for yourself. “It’s bruising.” You lightly trace the slight bruising that was already visible with the tip of your finger. Daphne took the moment to intertwine her fingers with yours, “See, all okay.”

Your heart started beating rapidly, she was holding your hand, and for a moment you forgot how to function. You just stared at your intertwined fingers until you snapped out of it, letting your eyes meet hers. The realisation of the other maybe reciprocating your feelings was now all that was on your mind. The revelation made a blush creep up onto your cheeks. The rest of the people around you disappeared as if you were in a bubble together. Her sparkling eyes looked between your eyes and your lips, before she started leaning in slowly. Your smile grew as you realised what was about to happen. You close the gap between you, and your lips meet hers in a soft kiss.

The moment that the two of you parted, your bubble was broken by your teammates loudly cheering. “Fucking finally.” Kerstin exclaimed. Besides that you heard a number of different comments like, “Took you long enough.” and “Thank God.”. You let them have their fun, because you just kissed the girl of your dreams. Daphne put her arm around you, and you leaned into her side. “Can you all shut up? We’re trying to watch a movie here.” Daphne said, not being able to hide the smile on her face.

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#daphne van domselaar imagine #daphne van domselaar x reader #daphne van domselaar #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso x reader #nedwnt x reader #nedwnt #netherlands wnt #oranjeleeuwinnen #aston villa women #aston villa wfc

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greyskyflowers · 1 year

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I want a really specific Luffy/Sanji/Zoro fic where it's focused on how Zoro is probably not able to be numbed or knocked out.

I want to do a post at some point about how Nami, Usopp and Zoro are the humans of the crew. The ones without devilfruits, no genetic stuff, and completely human.

You can absolutely argue that Zoro has whatever the fuck is going on with the demon stuff but until that's clearly discussed I'm going with the human thing.

Back to Luffy/Sanji/Zoro.

I'm really sold on the idea that Zoro burns through numbing and pain medications like it's nothing.

He can be knocked out or made completely numb but it requires a unreal amount of medication, enough that the amount is usually unavailable or risks overdosing him and making him very sick.

So, how many times has Chopper had to dig out shrapnel and bullets while Zoro was completely aware and felt everything?

Or stitched him up while Zoro held the skin together for him?

How many times has Chopper had to rebreak bones that had healed wrong if they were separated for a period of time and Zoro didn't set it right?

How about cauterizing wounds?

Concussions?

Blood loss?

What it he needed surgery because of a wound, and Chopper had to cut into him without being able to numb him at all?

Oooooof

I fully believe Chopper has had to do some of those. However, when Zoro is too out of it, or it hurts to much to not jerk away or fight back... I think Luffy and Sanji would have to hold him down. The only two with enough strength to get him still enough that Chopper can do what needs to be done without worry.

Robin could be added to that, I think. I like to think Zoro and her have a strong friendship and she's seen enough shit to know sometimes things have to be done even though it sucks.

What sounds does someone make in a situation like that? How much can the human body take?

If he was out of it enough, would he plead with Luffy to let him up? He would absolutely call for Luffy when everything hurts and I'll die on that hill.

It would be a blessing if he passed out but how long would he be passed out? Just long enough for everyone to breathe before he was awake again and struggling?

Is it worse when he's quiet? Awake but so exhausted he can't even try to jerk away?

The rest of the crew hearing everything but knowing better than to go try to help.

Having to act like they can't all hear anything and desperately hoping that Zoro passes out soon.

And Zoro is Zoro. No one really talks about it. They're all aware, of course, but Zoro never brings it up or complains.

He's actually really good at holding still, clenching his jaw and curling his lip back in a pained snarl. Every muscle in his body tense and his back in a rigid arch.

This isn't new to him. He's always burned through this stuff quick but it's definitely gotten worse as he's gotten older and stronger.

Luffy and Sanji only have to hold him down for the really bad ones. It's more of a precaution, a comfort of all of them.

They're the only ones to hold him because even blind with pain, Zoro knows them.

Even when his world narrows down to hurthurthurt, he won't fight them the way he would someone else. He trusts them to be strong enough that he can be a little weak if needed. Only a little.

Luffy being cautious and untrusting of anyone other than crew while Zoro recovers and gets his feet back under him.

Possessive and protective in the way all captains are. A extra edge to it because it's Zoro and Zoro is his in a way no one else quite is.

Sanji hovering, always something in his hands because his way of caring is food. The pain usually takes away Zoro's appetite but it's the best way Sanji knows to heal.

Luffy curled around Zoro when he naps on deck or when they go to sleep at night, trying to make sure nothing hurts and reassure them both that Zoro's okay.

Both of them running a critical eyes over Zoro because infection is a whole beast of its own. They want to make sure that if there's even a hint of one, they catch it as soon as possible.

Touching Zoro constantly because if they feel tense muscles they know he's hurting and if he's running a fever they can work on cooling it down.

🌊

The strawhat crew holds a grudge against a few people. Most of them obvious but always at the top is Garp, Blackbeard, Judge, and Mihawk.

Because they don't know exactly what went on while they were all separated for 2 years but they hold Mihawk accountable for Zoro's eye, even if he wasn't the one behind that particular scar.

They know Zoro felt all of it and they weren't there with him. And anyone who is responsible for that kind of pain to one of the crew goes right on the shit list.

#i just like monster trio and the tag on ao3 for them is so smol ☹️#one piece #zoro #sanji #luffy #zosan #zolu #zolusan #monster trio #tony tony chopper #strawhats #mugiwarapirates #straw hat pirates #mugiwara crew #setting sail with greyskyflowers

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exhuastedpigeon · 10 months

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Helllllo and welcome to my new Weekly Fic Recs!

This first one is going to be a little long since I’m going to rec my favourite fics that I’ve read so far in November. I’ll likely post a list weekly moving forward (probably Friday or Saturday) and will tag them as ‘Han’s Buddie Recs’ and 'Han's Weekly Fic Recs'

These fics are in order of longest to shortest and are separated into newly read, reread, and wips! Anything in italics is a comment from me.

Newly Read

and here, too, am i by Daisies_and_Briars/@cal-daisies-and-briars Teen || 41.1k Six months into their marriage, Eddie is still struggling to decide whether or not he wants more kids, when he knows Buck does. The universe may not scream, but it certainly talks.

I don’t have much else to say about this fic besides ‘it’s extremely great’

Tick Tick Boom by ChasetheWindTouchtheSky Teen || 30.4k Buck decides he doesn’t need therapy, reverts to some bad habits, and explodes. Or, the Breakdown Fic.

every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by withmeornotatall/@chronicowboy Mature || 21.9k Buck gets reckless, eddie gets angry, they talk in all the wrong ways, and the universe decides to intervene

Divorce 2.0 era.

All The Work That Needs To Be Done by trysetmeonfire/@try-set-me-on-fireTeen || 14.6k Bobby dies. Eddie worries. Life goes on.

This fic made me cry on multiple occasions, reader beware that it will probably make you cry too. It’s beautiful.

Sixth time's the charm by CorgiQueen14/@corgiqueen14 Teen || 14.2k The mid-lawsuit time loop fic that you didn't know you needed.

I’m a hoe for a time loop

you had to kill me (it killed you just the same) by MonsterRae1/@monsterrae1Explicit || 12.4k The Hire to Kill Au. Buck's a hired assassin sent after Eddie, instead, he ends up falling in love.

Got Weird by Daisies_and_Briars/@cal-daisies-and-briars Explicit || 10.5k Shortly after Buck and Natalia break up, Eddie gets tipsy and makes a rather forward move. Then immediately panics (not that Eddie panics, of course) and backpedals. Eddie spirals, Buck is confused. Lots of spontaneous kissing ensues.

The idiots in love tag was invited for this specific fic, I swear.

I wanna spend my forever like that by wikiangela/@wikiangela General || 8.6k Eddie catches a cold and stubbornly denies he's sick, while a fondly exasperated Buck is trying to take care of him.

Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon/@glorious-spoon Explicit || 8.5k Buck and Eddie try something out together.

These men are idiots and it’s perfect and VERY hot.

i'd swim to your call on my phone by heartbeatdiaz/@loserdiaz Teen || 8.5k Buck's daughter keeps calling 9-1-1 for help with her homework, Eddie is smitten and apparently 9-1-1 works better than Tinder

What's Died Will Never Stay Dead by HMSLusitania/@hmslusitania Teen || 6.5k The immortal firefam AU no one asked for.

Yet another Buddie banger from a ship that sank in 1915.

swinging for the fences by inbetweenthestacks/@organizedstardust Teen || 6.4k Buck takes Eddie to a baseball game.

This is the first baseball/baseball adjacent fic I’ve read in the Buddie fandom that made my baseball obsessed heart very happy. You don’t have to care about baseball to like it though!The line “Is baseball just…math?” made me actually laugh out loud because.. Yeah baseball kind of is math.

if you go down in the woods today by oklahoma/@malewifediazTeen || 6.3k “Oh, oh. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you.” Buck grips Bobby’s hands as he goes down to the ground, looking up at Eddie with hot fire in his big blue eyes. “You’re gonna owe me so many blowjobs when I wake up. D’you hear me, Eddie Diaz? You owe me so bad.”

They’re so goofy with each other in this and it feels so true to the characters and show. A delight!

kiss and make up by 42hrb Explicit || 3.3k Instead of being soft and sweet or adrenaline fueled and filled with love and thanks that they're both alive, their first kiss comes in the middle of a fight in Eddie’s living room.

shameless self promo, but I loved writing this fic so here it is on my own rec list :)

if this love is pain (let's hurt tonight) by HungryHungryHippo/@hippolotamus Teen || 3.2k After Chris leaves for college Buck mysteriously disappears. Five years later he finally returns with some answers.

Honestly... it's perfect

let heart hold true by lecornergirl/@clusterbuck Teen || 2.4k Eddie comes out to christopher. things snowball from there.

nicknames, supernova similes and the family we make by thewolvesof1998/@thewolvesof1998 General || 800 words Bobby and Athena meet Buck and Eddie's new baby girl.

Reread

like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts/@shitouttabuckExplicit || 51k Evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

I wish I was lying when I say I’ve read this fic 4 times since it came out, but I’m not. It’s so damn good.

Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston/@ebjameston Teen || 40.9k The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind.

I can’t find the worlds to tell you how much I love this fucking fic. It’s so good. It might actually be perfect.

of bake sales and overdue realizations by brewrosemilk/@gayhoediaz Teen || 4.8k Eddie doesn’t notice it until it becomes a thing that happens even when it’s just him and Buck, without Chris anywhere near them - but even then, he doesn’t find it strange, or give it much thought. Buck is the one who starts ending their phone calls with a quick ‘love you’ but it doesn't take long before Eddie does the same, often beating him to it.

WIPs

Maybe More Than I Should by Leslie_Knope Mature || 30k || ¾ chapters complete Eddie caught sight of the man leaning against the side of his desk and immediately wanted to retreat to the relative safety of the hallway, back in time when he lived happily not knowing that Mr. Buckley was apparently some kind of male model masquerading as a third-grade teacher.

This fic is an absolutely TREAT

#Han's Weekly Fic Recs #Han's Buddie Recs #Buddie #buddie fic rec #911 #buddie 911 #buddie 9-1-1 #buddie rec list #rec list #fic rec

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acotar-taylorsversion · 7 months

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Thoughts and Takes As I Re-Read the ACOTAR Series

This is extremely long and I have been typing it for weeks now. These are just my thoughts and I am typing them as I go. If you read it, I hope you enjoy it and maybe we can agree on most things. I would really love to hear everyone else's thoughts, too! 🙂

I don't feel like people blame papa archeron nearly as much as they should. It should not have been any of the sisters' responsibility to do what Feyre did. And after reading Nesta's POV, I don't blame Nesta for being so cold and hateful towards her father.

Lucien annoyed me so much in ACOTAR so much so that it was hard to like him in ACOMAF but I really tried to like him and give him a chance when Sarah made him Elain's mate and I realized that he could have a big role in ACOWAR.

I believe Tamlin had his redemption arc in ACOWAR when he saved Feyre and Az when they were rescuing Elain and then again when he saved Rhys. But I don't think Sarah will explore his story and she might be keeping him alive right now so that he can die at the right time.

After what Tamlin did to her and then allying with Hybern, I don't blame Feyre for ruining his court. He deserved it.

I don't think Ianthe suffered enough and I think that Nesta or Elain should have been the ones to have killed her.

Elain and Az were obvious to me in ACOMAF, just like Nesta and Cassian were and I was truly truly shocked when sarah made Lucien Elain's mate. I believe that there is so much more to that night than we know about and we'll learn about it when we get to Elain & Az's POVs. I believe that the bloodbane in Az's blood was killing him and nullified any bond that could have been there even before Elain was turned. Az was shot with the arrow before they went up to the throne room and that is why Lucien showed signs of mate behavior once Elain showed up. I believe the cauldron was wrong.

That being said, I tried to give Lucien a chance in ACOWAR and he just gave me the ick when talking about Elain. It didn't feel right to hear him say that he wanted to "see if she was worth it." Like she should already be worth it. Don't hesitate. I just did not see it at all.

I think that LoA will be the one to kill Beron. Don't know why, but I just feel that she will lose it and run to Helion.

Sarah had every opportunity to set Elucien up and she didn't. I believe she set them up for failure from the get-go. She instead focused on Elain and Az. I could do an entirely separate post about Elain, Lucien, and Az.

I believe Mor and Eris are mates, especially after what was said in ACOSF. I believe that he knows that she prefers females and wanted to save her from a loveless, unsatisfying marriage. I do think that he handled it wrong. Like that whole situation could have been handled so much better.

I think the whole Mor, Az, and Cassian situation was extremely weird. And now that Cassian is with Nesta and Az could possibly be with Elain, maybe Mor can finally move on and be free and not hide anything anymore. I wish that Mor would have talked to Nesta in ACOSF and explained and apologized for everything. Maybe she'll sit both the sisters down and talk about it one day.

I think Amren and Varian are cute together, but I think Amren should have stayed dead. Sarah is notorious for killing and then unkilling her characters and I think that gets old. I believe that sarah brought her back as a way to keep the summer court involved with the night court and to have a "know it all" character.

I think that Feyre and Rhys have a true, soul mate, true love, fairytale mating bond and I think Nesta and Cassian have a more realistic one. Feyre and Rhys fell in love before the bond was accepted and Nesta and Cassian were just beginning to fall in love before the bond was accepted. Lust and attraction and the pull of the bond is what truly brought them together but they quickly fell in love with each other.

I hate all the hate that Nessian is getting. People who say that Nesta should get with Eris literally make me sick and I want to throw ACOSF at them. They obviously need a to read it again. People need to realize that Nesta was in the wrong in HOFAS and Rhys had every right to freak out like he did and Nesta needed to be yelled at for that. I don't blame Cassian for not stepping in. And people forget how sarcastic Nesta is and they actually take her seriously when she said that Rhys debated executing her. Like do yall really think Cassian and Feyre would allow that or that Rhys would do that to his brother and his mate?? Like come on now.

Speaking of Rhys, I don't think he was wrong for keeping the danger of feyre's pregnancy from her. As a mother of 3 myself, I would be terrified every single day if I knew that my pregnancy could end with the death of myself and/or my baby. Like I would not want to know. Pregnancy is stressful enough as it is, even with healthy ones. And this is why I don't think he was wrong for freaking out on Nesta. I mean, he almost lost his mate, his son, and his life like what, 6 months before that? Like I can't imagine how scared Rhys is every day knowing that he almost lost everything and then Nesta gave a STRANGER a MADE OBJECT from the trove and could have LOST IT to the ASTERI who could have come to their world and DESTROYED them all. GIVE RHYS A BREAK YOU GUYS!!!!! I love Nesta, love her to death, but she was wrong for that.

I have my thoughts on Gwyn. I think she's a lightsinger. I think that is what Az's shadows react to, just like Nesta reacts to her. I don't think her and Az are mates. I don't think she's attracted to Az at all. I think she wants to prove herself to him because he did see her on the most traumatic night of her life. I think she wants to prove to him and everyone around her that she is and can be strong. That's it. There is nothing more to her and Az other than trainer and trainee. I also think that Merrill is the one manipulating everything and everyone, including Gwyn who might not know that she's a lightsinger. I think Merrill is working with Koschei.

Even after all the books, I still believe that Elriel will happen. There's just too many canon moments for me to ignore to see the possibility of Elucien. I only say elucien because gwynriel isn't a canon couple. They are not canon at all. The only thing that elucien has going for them is their bond.

I think Lucien will reject the bond for Elain. Lucien isn't a bad guy. I don't think he'll fight for Elain when he knows that she does not want him or their bond. He won't let Elain become his mother. I think he will find happiness with Vassa and they will be like Elide and Lorcan.

I believe people who support elucien only care about Lucien. I mean, how could you think that Elain wants to be with him after reading the books?

Based on the story of Koschei, it's not crazy to assume it will be 3 sisters and 3 brothers. Sarah is a very predictable writer and this is what most of the fandom has expected since ACOMAF and Koschei being the last big bad confirms that. Especially when you add in Vassa and Lucien into the mix. Just read the story of Koschei and tell me I'm wrong.

I believe that Az is experiencing the effects of a mating bond with Elain. He acts more like her mate than Lucien does and there's canon proof of this.

I believe the only reason Rhys stopped Az and Elain that night was because 1. he was convinced he would die with Feyre when she gave birth and didn't want his court to be in this war with the autumn court and 2. he is a political figure and he is using elain's bond as leverage with lucien. I believe that if Elain expresses to him how she wants to reject the bond, he would support it and accept Elain and Az.

I hate how everyone focuses on Gwyn and forgets about Emerie. I don't understand why people think Gwyn would be involved with the Illyrians. She is not Ilyrian and even though she finished the blood rite, she has said she does not want that illyrian warrior title. After what she went through during the rite, I don't see her being involved with them in any way. I do believe we will hear about Emerie doing something more like that. She could be an inspiration to Ilyrian females. Speaking of the Valkyries, I don't think they should have won the blood rite. It was very unbelievable. It would have been more believable if they had hid the entire time and waited for Cassian to come find them when the week was over.

Speaking Gwyn again, I think most of her fans overhype her too much. I like Gwyn and I'm glad that Nesta has her as a friend because she needed that. But I don't think we'll ever get her POV. I mean, we heard her story. We know what happened to her and we know pretty much everything about her. We know that she doesn't want that warrior title and she went back to the library not even sure about going to Nesta's mating ceremony. I think her fans forget this. I think they see her as a self insert character. I think they over sexualize her way too much. I'm not saying that SA survivors can't have a sex life so don't come at me. I just don't think she's going to want to be tied up with ribbons while Az holds her down and "ravages" her. The same male who seen what she went through that night. That just makes me uncomfortable. I think Gwyn would be embarrassed by the majority of her fans.

I will another post about that bonus chapter because there is so much to discuss.

I hate the amount of hate Elain gets and the side of the fandom that hates her does not deserve her. There is so much to learn about her and her powers and what goes on in her mind and I can't wait for her book.

I also think that papa archeron unknowingly traded Elain and/or Feyre and Nesta in his deal with Koschei for Vassa's temporary release.

I don't understand how people could hate feysand or any other members of the inner circle. In my opinion, if you hate them then why are you reading the series?? Why are you still here?

I don't think that sarah will make Nesta or Elain an actual queen or high lady. I think that Rhys and Feyre will always be more powerful than them and I think they will be High King and High Queen when the series is over. I can't see sarah making the sisters having the same amount of power or say as much as Feyre. She has always been above them. That has been obvious since the beginning because she's always protected them and taken care of them.

If you guys remember my other posts, then you will know my thoughts on how I think the rest of the series will go. Like elriel, vassien, koschei, the queens, the prison, the dusk court, the trove, all that. Elain and Nesta are the keys and Vassa should be the one to destroy Koschei. Rhys and Feyre will be High King and High Queen with nessian and elriel at their sides and everyone lives happily ever after.

What do you guys think?

#acotar #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #elain archeron #elriel #pro elriel #azriel shadowsinger #feysand #archeron sisters #rhysand #feyre archeron #gwyneth berdara #lucien vanserra #vassa acotar

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hollowed-theory-hall · 5 months

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How does the protection magic that Lily's sacrifice placed on Harry work? On that note- how do the blood wards placed on the Dursley household operate?

Like- does the latter act as a notice me not/ fidelius of its own? Protecting Harry's location from other magicals? (It would have been easy for another Longbottom tragedy to occur after all) from what I remember the blood wards have no affect on the protection cast by Lily's sacrifice, and instead sort of extend the effect to the household???

Also on the topic of the protection- we saw the end Quirrel met. And... I just wondered- why didn't this sort of reaction extend to all the people - the Dursleys included- who laid their hands + spells on Harry with the intent to harm? By all means the blood wards should have fallen the moment The Dursleys tried to physically harm Harry. Can't see a protection powered by Lily's intent, extending to people who mean her son harm.

Unless of course the magic and the wards are targetted at Riddle specifically. Which brings the question- why didn't it set on fire/ harm anything considering even the traces of Riddle's presence/ influence. Eg. The people with the death Eater brands, the horcruxes, the soul shard inside Harry himself??

Ugh. Just so many questions.

Ps. Could the blood wards have been transferred/ worked in a residence comprising of the people Harry considered as his family and who reciprocated this sentiment? (based on the importance of intent to keep the spell going)

Wow, @ana-lyz, just like with the veil and death asks, I just started drafting a post about Lily's blood protections and what Dumbledore says about them. So...

Lily's Love Protection and Dumbledore's Blood Wards

Alright, strap in...

Okay, so let's start by seeing what we're told about the blood protections and whether we can gather something cohesive that makes magical sense out of it.

We have Voldemort's statement on this piece of magic:

“...I wanted Harry Potter’s blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago . . . for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too. . . . “But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy’s future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy’s protection as long as he is in his relations’ care. Not even I can touch him there. . . .

(GoF, 657)

Notice there is the lingering protection from Lily's magic and the ancient magic Dumbledore invoked. These are, I believe separate spells.

Dumbledore's statements:

“But why couldn’t Quirrell touch me?” “Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign…to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.”

(PS, 215)

“But I knew too where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated — to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother’s blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative.” “She doesn’t love me,” said Harry at once. “She doesn’t give a damn —” “But she took you,” Dumbledore cut across him. “She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother’s sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you.” “I still don’t —” “While you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years.”

(OotP, 835-836)

Here again, Dumbledore mentions the ancient magic he made the decision to protect Harry with as a separate thing from the lingering protection from Lily.

And (as per this post) the Dumbledore Harry hallucinates statement:

“He took my blood.” said Harry. “Precisely!” said Dumbledore. “He took your blood and rebuilt his living body with it! Your blood in his veins, Harry, Lily’s protection inside both of you! He tethered you to life while he lives!”

(DH, 598)

And then we have what happened to Quirrell:

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell’s face — “AAAARGH!” Quirrell rolled off him, his face blistering, too, and then Harry knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain — his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse. Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off — the pain in Harry’s head was building — he couldn’t see — he could only hear Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Voldemort’s yells of, “KILL HIM! KILL HIM!”

(PS, 212)

What we know from this

Well, from the above quotes we can divide the magical protections on Harry into 2 different spells as I mentioned above:

Lily's sacrificial love protection - the intention magic Lily cast by protecting her son. This is the magic that blocked the Killing Curse and killed Quirrell.

Dumbledore's blood ward - this is the spell Dumbledore cast that (supposedly) protects Harry in his relatives' home. Voldemort says Dumbledore invoked this magic, and Dumbledore also mentions it's a ward he left that built upon Lily's protection, but it's not a spell Lily left.

So, what can Lil'y Sacrificial Love Protection do:

Makes the Killing Curse not kill Harry.

Returns the Killing Curse back to the sender.

Continues to hurt that initial "sender" whenever he tries to kill Harry.

What about Dumbledore's Blood Wards what do they do:

Nothing.

Dumbledore and Voldemort say this magic exists but it never does anything. We never see it active, it never protects Harry from anyone, neither his relatives nor Death Eaters. So, we don't know what it's supposed to be doing since it doesn't do anything in the books.

Voldemort says it won't allow him to touch Harry in his relatives' house.

How I think these spells actually work

I'll start with Dumbledore's Blood Wards:

I simply don't think this ward actually exists.

Dumbledore isn't very consistent with how this protection works. He says Harry needs to return for a bit to live with Petunia for the magic to work, but if that's all the requirement, why long weeks? Couldn't he return for a shorter time? And each year he spends a different amount of time at Private Drive? Couldn't he always be sent back just for the minimal required time? At first, the ward was about love but then it isn't, he says this: "While you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort."

Harry didn't think of Private Drive as a home:

Harry could hardly believe it when he realized that he’d already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had.

(PS, 123)

“I believe he had several reasons, though he confided none of them to Professor Dippet,” said Dumbledore. “Firstly, and very importantly, Voldemort was, I believe, more attached to this school than he has ever been to a person. Hogwarts was where he had been happiest; the first and only place he had felt at home.” Harry felt slightly uncomfortable at these words, for this was exactly how he felt about Hogwarts too.

(HBP, 431)

Harry never considered Private Drive and the Dursleys his home. Hogwarts was his first home.

If there is no love and it isn't a home, even if Dumbledore did cast a blood ward based on Petunia and Lily's sacrifice it won't actually be active. But personally, I don't think this ward actually exists.

Dumbledore needs a reason to keep Harry with his relatives.

Dumbledore needs Harry malleable, low on self-esteem, and lacking in a support network. Because he knew since October 1981 (but probably before) that he'd likely need Harry to die. He suspected Harry was a Horcrux from practically day 1:

Under a tuft of jetblack hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning. “Is that where —?” whispered Professor McGonagall. “Yes,” said Dumbledore. “He’ll have that scar forever.” “Couldn’t you do something about it, Dumbledore?” “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Scars can come in handy...

(PS, 13-14)

And being raised by the Dursleys ensured that when the time came, when Dumbledore needed Harry to die to destroy Voldemort, Harry would be willing. Because Harry would not put much worth in his own life. Because of that, I think it's not outside the realm of possibility Dumbledore would lie about this ward to have an excuse to keep sending Harry to the Dursleys.

(Sure, Dumbledore would've preferred not to kill Harry if it could be avoided, but he had been preparing for the situation since October 1981)

It's not like he did anything to better their treatment of Harry until book 6, when he needed Harry to start trusting him more...

And like I mentioned above, even if the ward was there, it would not be active because Private Drive was never a home for Harry. And after year 4, when Voldemort took his blood, any protection from any blood-related magic would be moot. Because Voldemort would not be counted as a threat by the ward.

So Dumbledore sending Harry back to the Dursleys after he knew the wards he left (if they were there at all) were gone, proves to me Harry's placement at the Dursleys was never about the wards to begin with. Because if the blood wards are gone, literally anywhere else around wizards who could protect Harry would be safer than at the Dursleys, even when thinking of Death Eaters and Voldemort as the only threat. If they came to find Harry at Private Drive, nothing would've stopped them (except Harry himself).

I could guess wards like this, if they actually were active, would have been an extension of Lily's protection and stopped Voldemrot from being able to enter the Dursleys' residence. From what's said, it seems this ward seems to target Voldemrot specifically, and no one else. But, as I mentioned, I don't think it's really there.

Lil'y Sacrificial Love Protection:

I mentioned in the past how intention and emotion mean a lot for magic in the HP universe. Lily, a witch who we are told repeatedly was powerful, intelligent, and talented, could very well cast a powerful protection out of her love and intention to protect her son. That is 100% possible with what we see magic is capable of and how magic seems to work.

That being said, the fact this never happened before suggests to me Lily did something different than just having a very strong wish for her son to survive. Dumbledore says it's because she had a choice, and in a way it is, but not because Voldemort gave her the option not to die, but because she chose to die instead of Harry.

I'll try to explain it, bear with me.

“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!” “Stand aside, you silly girl. . . stand aside now.” “Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—” “This is my last warning—” “Not Harry! Please . . . have mercy. . . have mercy. . . . Not Harry! Not Harry! Please—I’ll do anything—” “Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!”

(DH, 297)

This is the "spell" Lily casts — the incantation. This is her wish moments before her death: "Not Harry, kill me instead," that's what she says, that's her promise, that's her wish, that's the magic.

Lily's protection only works on Voldemort because her spell essentially made a bargain with Voldemort (that he didn't agree to). that he'd kill her instead of Harry. Once he killed Lily, he couldn't kill Harry because that was the protection she left him, and Voldemort won't be able to kill him because she died in his stead.

That's why we don't see the same thing happen after James dies to buy Lily and Harry time, why when others die to protect someone they aren't protected from the killing curse. What Lily did is a combination of a few extraordinary circumstances coming together:

She's an incredibly powerful witch (shown by her childhood magic that was very controlled and advanced (not unlike Tom Riddle) and Slughorn's boasting)

She loved Harry dearly. Loved him enough to power an accidental spell.

Chose and intended to die instead of her son. She had intent when making her plea, intent required for any spell.

So what essentially happened is that Lily created a situation where Voldemort physically can't kill Harry because Lily died in his stead. If, for example, Quirrell touched Harry without intending to kill him (like he did when they shook hands in Diagon Alley or when he pulled Harry to stand in front of the mirror) the protection won't activate. All it does is stop Voldemort from killing Harry because he already killed Lily in Harry's stead.

So, Voldemort, as I mentioned in the past, wants to kill Harry, this is his only ambition in the 2nd war. So he takes Harry's blood into himself so the protection won't work anymore. And we see it doesn't in the woods when Voldemort casts the killing curse and it doesn't rebound back on him (which would've happened otherwise).

This love protection from Lily doesn't require anything to stay active. It was cast because Voldemort killed her and Harry doesn't need to do anything to keep it active. Staying with the Dursleys wasn't for the sake of Lily's spell but for Dumbledore's ward.

As for Lily's spell not protecting Hary from anything else, like I mentioned, the bargain was that Voldemort would kill her instead of Harry, it would only protect Harry from being killed by Voldemort. If Voldemort just asked a random Death Eater to kill Harry it still wouldn't have worked, but that won't be because of Lily's love magic, but because of Harry pretty much always being the Master of Death.

Basically, Voldemort was doomed because he had no chance of killing Harry. Ever.

But what about when Harry died in book 7 and said he cast the same sacrificial love?

Well, I don't think Harry cast the same sacrificial love. His feelings and intentions were completely different. In his case, I think he just took the mastership of the Elder Wand so it wasn't performing as well for Voldemort afterward.

Conclusions

There are actually two different and distinct spells referred to by the characters when it comes to the protections Lily left for Harry.

The first is Lily's Sacrificial Love Spell which worked like a bargain. She pleaded with Voldemort to kill her instead of Harry and after he killed her, he could no longer kill Harry because he was protected.

Voldemort taking Harry's blood does indeed circumvent this spell and allows him to kill Harry in the woods (if temporarily).

The second is the Blood Ward Dumbledore talks about that is supposedly placed on the Dursleys' home. This spell was invoked by Dumbledore and is not part of Lily's spell.

It's supposed to build on and strengthen Lily's protection from what's implied.

this second spell would've stopped its activity the moment Harry stopped considering number 4, Private Drive his home (which happened quite young, as he doesn't remember ever considering it a home)

Personally, I don't think this blood ward ever existed, but even if it did, it was moot from the get-go and never done anything.

Voldemort taking Harry's blood in year 4, circumvented this ward too.

Basically, Dumbledore kept Harry at the Durselys less because of the wards and more because it suited him to ensure Harry would become the martyr he needed him to be (something I should write a full post about eventually).

#harry potter #hp #asks #ana-lyz #harry james potter #lily potter #harry potter meta #hp meta #hollowedtheory #albus dumbledore #lily evans #hp magical theory

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sexc-snail · 9 months

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"The One" - Shanks x reader

A/N: fuck you I write x reader fanfic now, don't get used to it. Shanks is kinda obsessed with you and maybe even a little out of character but it's cute. (Loosely) Inspired by "Billie Jean" by The Civil Wars, a huge thank you to the lovely @fanaticsnail for introducing me to the song to prompt this fic.

This was meant to be posted on Christmas Day but Tumblr didn't want to register paragraph breaks between the separate dot points and thought I had pasted a single long paragraph, which breaks the text character block limit and blocked me from posting or even saving as a draft.

Summary: You meet Shanks at the tavern where you work who promptly flirts with you, insisting that he is "The One". Naturally sceptical of such a charismatic pirate's charms being true, you keep your distance by insisting that you'll only be the one he dances with, nothing more. Except he keeps coming back, and it's getting harder and harder to remember to keep your guard up as he continues to dance with you for nights on end. Then one day a boy comes and everything threatens to fall apart.

Word count: 3,426

You’d met Shanks at the tavern where you worked.

You were wiping down the bar, boredom and the stifling heat suffocating you until you were polishing the same spot repeatedly until you would have sanded it into a small dent had you not been interrupted

The door suddenly slammed open with raucous laughter, a crowd barging into the room headed by one man

Red hair tickled his neck, framing peach fuzz that decorated a bright smile, warm brown eyes (one with a set of three scars across it) that made you think of honeyed tea, an unbuttoned shirt putting tanned skin on display.

The man shouted to the room, “first round’s on me lads!” generating loud applause

He paused in the middle of the crowd, turning his head with furrowed brows until his eyes landed on you, and he grinned.

He navigated the crowd with the natural skill of a fish through water. Like it was his habitat.

Leaning over the bar with his charming grin he asked your name and gave his own. Shanks. But you wouldn’t need to know it, seeing as all you had to know was that he was “The One”.

That made you raise your brow.

Naturally sceptical of such a flirt (and particularly one with such electric magnetism that commanded the room) you denied it. But when he jutted his – perfectly soft and plump – lip out in a pout the thought of denying such an opportunity outright tugged at your chest.

In a compromise you had offered to be ‘the one’ he could dance with at the end of the night, assuming that by the time you’d managed to have a break from serving the rowdy crew he’d be too drunk to care.

Except that wasn’t the case. He’d nursed a beer the whole night, and when you’d offered to refill it he’d refused. Stating he didn’t want to give you more work and prolong your dance. You’d scurried away before the flush in your cheeks could get any worse.

By the end of the night, most of the crew had escaped into the night or lay slumped in chairs, and Shanks had offered his hand.

You’d expected different – expected him to press against you, swaying to a fast beat, holding you tight. To be honest the idea gave you a little thrill. If you could get it out of your system maybe then you could sweep away the flutter in your chest with the justification that you were right and the cheap satisfaction of one sinful night.

Except, as before, he surprised you once again. One hand held yours in a soft grip while the other rest against your waist. Never drifting lower, in a touch so light it was almost hovering yet present enough that you could feel its warmth through your clothing. Only leaving you wanting more

Maybe that was his plan then. Teasing you until you succumbed to his whims. But then there would be no need for him to actually move you around with purpose, even lifting your clasped hands to twirl you once. And you swore you could hear him humming along to the music anytime you happened to brush closer.

By the end of the night you managed to pull yourself away with what you hoped was a calm demeanour, feeling his calloused palm brush against your own as he pressed a quick kiss to the back of your hand before you managed to escape entirely

When they left you thought that was the end of it. One fleeting night. One ‘almost’. One slip in your defences

Except he came back after a couple weeks.

You were out back when he’d returned, only for one of your coworkers to approach you with a sly look saying a gentleman had asked for you by name.

Initially you were suspicious. Wary, even. And you should have remained so once you saw who it was. Yet the flutters in your chest won the battle and a smile and a blush crossed your face before you had a chance to school your expression.

Shanks was waiting at the bar. Drink untouched before him as the condensation gathered on the wood. You didn’t even think he knew it was there, his attention flitted about the room without sparing it a glance before his eyes landed on you.

His face lit up, and you had a hard time reeling in your heart as you reminded yourself of his natural charm

Once again, he asked to be “The One”, and once again you specified that he could be the one you danced with, but nothing more.

Once again, he took you to the dance floor, and once again you felt your heart glide alongside you as this time he took to leading you about the room, treating it with the dimensions of a ballroom but still taking care to keep you with him as he effortlessly wove through his drunken crewmates.

This continued for a while. He would ask to be your “One”, you would compromise on a dance, and he would lead you with such care and passion that you almost forgot why you were so opposed to the idea of him being “The One” anyway

Each time he left he promised to continue coming back until he had finally convinced you. And each time he returned you believed it a little more.

His dances ranged from light-hearted jigs, to exaggerated twirls and sways, to the simple aimless meandering

You usually waited until the end of the night, when less prying eyes would see you vulnerable – somehow you never fret about Shanks seeing you vulnerable. With him it didn’t feel like a sacrifice, it felt like a comfort.

There was of course the odd time where he’d allow more passion to sneak into the dances, holding you closer and moving with more fluidity than before. Good Gods above that man could move his body like water. These dances were more fuelled by playful fun and passion of movement, and though the fast beat made your hearts race and skin flush as your breaths came out in quick pants you never felt pressed to do more, despite the underlying tension filling the air.

Once, when you had somehow had a lull in your shift, he had even managed to convince you to join in a circle dance with the whole tavern, crew and villagers alike mixing together as they traded partners. Each time you felt him pass you – having grown so attuned to feeling his body near you that you could sense him even when he was behind you – as you joined another dancer you resisted the urge to turn to him. To reach out.

Funnily enough, by the end of the night you hadn’t even danced with him and he’d asked for a solo once you finished work. That was the first time he stayed past closing, even helping you shift the chairs and finish up. Leaving the bar with just you two in it

He held you close, swaying on the spot as he hummed a tune to compensate for the lack of music once everyone had left

He didn’t try to convince you to dance with others after that night.

One night you were upset. As much as you loved your island it felt stagnant. Like hibernation. And you mourned for something that was never yours – adventure.

Of course this would be the night that Shanks returned, and even his presence couldn’t sway your foul mood.

He began to ask his question when you interrupted him to deny him, but he quickly continued. Asking if he could be the one who gets to talk to you. No dancing necessary.

Something about his soft voice, and his consideration for your feelings broke the dam and you spilled everything to him before you even knew what you were saying. Confessing how lonely and unfulfilled you felt. How you longed for more. How you felt trapped.

He listened without judgement, offering a reassuring word here and there to make sure you knew you weren’t bothering him, weren’t being ungrateful, were allowed to feel this way

By the end of your rant you felt a lot better than you’d expected to. You offered him a dance in thanks, but he shook his head.

“This is enough.”

That night, he walks you home. That night, your relationship shifts.

You still restricted yourself to dances, but now there was a current of some kind in the air between you. Even when you didn’t dance you felt it.

It was becoming harder to remember why you held such reserve in the first place

And then you were reminded

A young boy with dark raven hair and a scar below his left eye – in the same place as Shanks’, smiles up at you. Only coming up to your knee, he introduces himself as Luffy

He tells you he came here on the Red-Haired Pirates ship and your heart sinks

Of course. You knew this was coming and yet you were still stupid enough to let your guard slip. To be fooled by a man – a pirate! – and his flirtations when it was only ever a game to him. Either he had a family – a son and a partner – that he returned to when he wasn’t using you for his own entertainment. Or he shirked the responsibility of his son and partner, and didn’t care about them as he flirted his way through bars.

Honestly, you don’t know why you expected more.

No… that was a lie. You did know why you expected more. It was because it was Shanks. The man who snuck his way into your heart just to break it before you’d even known he was there.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, the door to the tavern swings open.

You see his mouth open and before he has a chance to speak, to poison the air with his silly little question you allowed yourself to be fooled by, you cut him off. Scolding him for allowing a child out of his sight to wander a strange new island alone and end up in a bar

Confusion crossed his face, and you tried to ignore the cute scrunch of his freckled nose, before his eyes landed on Luffy who was happily slurping down a bowl of ramen at the bar, his feet swinging beneath him on the high stool.

A myriad of emotions flashed across Shanks’ face. Confusion, shock, anger, before he looked back to you. Seeing your hardened glare, his head swivelled back to Luffy, then back to you, realisation crossing his face before it settled into an expression of fear.

“I didn’t—that’s not—he’s not—” your eyes narrowed further and a sneer curled your lip before you quickly shook your head, shaking off the emotions, and turn to leave.

You had turned the sign to ‘closed’ once Luffy had shown up. Your coworker had called in sick earlier that day so it was just you on the drinks. You could live one night without manning the bar.

You can’t go back to your house. He knew where that was. So you ended up wandering the streets until you found a sufficiently out of view back alley to wallow in

Shaking hands fisted at your hair as you buried your head between your knees. Eyes screwed shut tightly so you wouldn’t have to see the tears you could feel falling.

Stupid. You were so stupid.

“Do you have any more of that ramen?”

Jolting back with a start you crouched in an almost defensive position. Scared of the captain that would follow the boy.

He was alone. At least that was some luck in your string of unfortunate events.

“No. I make it for myself for when I have a long shift and need the lunch.” Sniffing ugly globs of snot back into your nose you scrubbed at your eyes, hoping he wouldn’t see the damage.

No need to be mean to the boy, it wasn’t his fault.

“Are you hungry? There’s a takoyaki stall around here.”

You ended up buying Luffy seven sticks of takoyaki before you told him the vender had run out, and maybe it was your reddened eyes and blotchy cheeks but she went along with your lie, sparing your wallet

Luffy asked a lot of questions – often with his mouth full – about Shanks’ adventures, about how pirates were supposed to eat takoyaki, about you. He even seemed to recognise you after a moment

“OH, you’re the dancer! Shanks told me all about you!”

That gave you pause.

“He did?”

Luffy nodded furiously, “Yeah, he said not all treasure is gold or maps or gems and junk. Treasure is what you search for and want most of all. Then he said something about his dancer having his ‘one’ but he wasn’t yours so he was going to bring you a ‘one’, or maybe kill you a ‘one’… something like that, I think. He didn’t say one of what though.”

Luffy picked at his nose absentmindedly, before noticing he was walking alone

“Hey, why’d you stop?”

“Luffy… why did your dad bring you here?”

Luffy scrunched up his face, looking at you like you’d started yodelling in the street.

“My who?”

Oh my God.

“How did you get here, exactly?”

“I snuck onto Shanks’ ship while he was docked at our island.”

Oh my God. You have to go back right now.

Quickly scooping Luffy in your arms you ran back to the tavern. Entering through the staff’s entrance you plopped Luffy down in the kitchen, telling him he could eat the (cooked) food to his heart’s content so long as he didn’t run off again and stayed quiet.

Shanks was slumped at the bar. Head pressed against the wooden countertop as his left arm – no, left shoulder – attempted to shield him from the world and his right arm twisted a hand in his hair in a grip that had to hurt.

When had that happened?

He didn’t seem to hear your approach.

Gently, as if you were handling the most precious and delicate treasure in the world, you reached for the hand clenching his hair.

Your fingers just barely grazed his when Shanks jerked upright with a start. The force sent him wobbling off his stool and you worriedly reached to steady him, only for him to near throw himself at you. His right hand grabbed your left, though he quickly loosened his grip before you could even register how tight he grasped you, only leaving a pleasant tingle where he had squeezed. Always ever so careful about your comfort. His right shoulder reached for you as well, taking a few second to register that there was nothing connected before dropping back to his side. He stared at you, letting silence pass for a beat as his eyes refused to leave you, seeming to not blink or breath.

You heart reached for him, and this time you followed it. Your fingers threaded with his and he gasped as if he was suddenly doused in ice cold water.

“You’re here! I thought— I thought you were jus’ in m’ head – you were in my head – but you’re here—”

He seemed to remember why you had left in the first place.

“He’s not my son – I mean, he’s a great kid and he’s definitely gonna at least take over the world or destroy it someday—”

“Shanks.”

“But he’s not mine— I would never do that to you—”

“Shanks.”

“I would never do that to anyone, but least of all you,”

He was rambling. The Red-Haired Yonko Shanks, the same man who’d sept you off your feet and swung you around sticky wooden boards with enough suave to make it seem like he was gliding across a stage was rambling. And stuttering.

“-and I should have said something sooner—”

“Shanks!”

He sucked in a quick gasp, watching you with bated breath.

Okay. He’d been brave enough for the both of you. Now it was your turn.

Your right hand reached and rested on his shoulder, far enough to avoid aggravating the potentially tender area but close enough to convey the message of touch. You brushed your thumb against his intertwined hand gently.

“May I be the one to have this dance?”

His face sagged in relief and his eyes swam with wet adoration. Half chuckles shook his body as he brought himself closer to you until you felt his laughter on your face. Lifting your hand from his shoulder, and rushing once you saw the kicked puppy look flit across his face, your caressed his cheek with your hand.

Feeling his beard tickle your palm you moved your hand backwards to thread through his hair – treating it with care as you smoothed out where he’d been wringing his hand through previously.

Satisfied, you curled your hand around the back of his head and pulled him to you until his forehead pressed against yours.

“Will you let me be the one to dance with you?” You prompted again

“Sweetheart,” he sighed out, “If I ever say no to that, feel free to take my other arm.”

“I was meaning to ask about that—”

“Later.” He rushed out, bumping his head against yours to brush your noses together.

Later, then. For now? You danced.

“Come with me.”

It was a whisper. The only reason you caught it was your close proximity, the sentence fanning across your face as he dragged his nose to leave a peck to your temple and nuzzle into your hair. He didn’t whisper out of shyness or insecurity. Rather a reluctance to shatter the moment you shared with unnecessary noise.

As if sensing your confusion he continued, this time his lips brushing against the shell of your ear with every word.

“On my ship. Sail away with me.”

You began to pull your head back to look at him, moving the hand around his neck so you’d have room to part, but he chased after you, causing you two to stumble slightly and – instinctively – your hand reached out to steady the both of you. Wrapping your right arm behind his waist, all the way around to rest your hand on his other side to hold you two closer together to his wishes.

“I’ve been thinking of it ever since that night.”

That night. So it wasn’t just you.

“I’d keep you safe. Take you anywhere you wanted to go. I’d never let you feel lonely, or trapped, or stuck. And if you did I wouldn’t let you feel it alone. I’ll do my best to keep you happy, I promise. I’ll never let you doubt the way I feel about you ever again. You’re the one for me. You’re it.”

“Shanks,” You breathed. He paused, right hand tightening its grip around your left

“Ask me.”

His breath hitched with excitement

“Will you please let me be the one for you, sugar?”

You smiled, turning your head to chase his question, and when you gave your answer this time, you breathed it against his lips.

“Yes.”

Bonus:

“Also, I lost the kid.”

You snorted, “that should definitely have been higher up on your list of priorities,”

“I had other things on my mind!” His voice rose an octave in defence. “Besides, the kid can take care of himself.”

You pinched his side lightly, where your arm wrapped around his waist, and he let out an exaggerated hiss of pain

“That’s not how kids work, but luckily he doesn’t have to.”

Shanks furrowed his brows in confusion.

You lead him to the kitchen, only to find small raven-haired boy passed out among bowls and bones of meat. His belly (quite a lot larger now) rising and falling in tandem with a bubble of snot on his nose.

#One piece #one piece live action #opla #one piece x reader #one piece live action x reader #opla x reader #one piece shanks #shanks x reader #red haired shanks x reader #opla shanks #opla shanks x reader

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yourlocalcorviddad · 9 months

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Saw a post about Danny calling Dani his little Comet, this one, and then I had an idea to and mix it with a favourite Hozier song, Work Song. Feel free to add or whatever if it strikes you!

"Ah, shh, shh little Comet, it's ok, I've got you."

The attempt at keeping his voice steady didn't really work, but he was sure he was keeping a good hold on his emotions at least, since Ellie was calming down in his hold. It didn't mean he wasn't panicking inside at the situation but he was managing. He only had to make it a few more weeks before the others could come, then everything would be safe.

He got her settled in his bed, sleeping and calm now. He had a crib for her, and Jordan too eventually, but he couldn't really stand the thought of them to far. So bed it was.

Both clone and future self had been deaged due to the damage taken, done at Frostbite's direction to heal and better stabilise both. Jordan's injuries had come in defence of both him and Ellie, and, like a weird mirror, Ellie's from defending him and the injured Jordan when he was to weakened from injuries to fight. Ellie had just been deaged from it Dan, who he decided was going to be called Jordan too give himself some separateness, was reverted to his core. In an effort to protect and give him time to heal, he has him inside himself, next to his own core. He'd been warned it meant that Dan would likely take on more of being like his child than his future self, but he just wanted him alive, not like he didn't have the risk of it anyway, at least this time it was under his control.

There was no hope of returning to his dimension, it had been clear at that point, but they had been trying to free all the ghosts they could and get all liminal people and their family rounded up to safety before the GIW got to them. Danny, as the heir prince-until he was of age for the throne at 100-was sent ahead to bridge trust with another dimension, this one in fact, to see it they could bring their people, his people, there.

Clockwork and the Ancients and Observants worked with his parents and the others from town, and other liminality touched people, to get everyone into the ghost zone, which he had leaned also got called the Infinite Realms, safely and cut off that dimension from it.

Apparently that's what most magical creatures had done to that one anyway, long ago. He'd even met the descendents of the witches that had been hunted by, and thus placed the curse on, his family back when Amity was a village.

They'd lifted the, severely weakened by then but still present, curse after apologies were made and explanations done. It was a relief, even though it is likely what had even held him tethered to life enough to become a halfa at all, but he felt more at ease now without it.

All in all, it led him to where he was now though. A new world, a new set of rules, similar but still so different, and two kids that were essentially his.

The sudden crash outside his window on the alley side had him rushing over, ready to defend as best he could, still healing from the injuries in the last fight with the GIW, in case it was a villain attacking.

Only to pause at the sight of the, now likely unconscious, blue and black clad vigilante in the dumpster below.

"Fuck... Well can't leave him, who knows who'd find him there."

It took a bit of work, and mild use of his weak but still present powers, but he got him up stairs and into his apartment onto the, comfortable if he said so himself, couch.

Once there, he checked him over for injuries, careful not to take the domino off and keeping him as clothed as possible, but tending to his wounds as best possible. Doing so, he realised the other was probably only about 20-21, close to his age at least. It made him wonder how long the other had been a hero, and made a thought to ask later.

For now he settled in to make some food -that hopefully wouldn't accidentally come alive again-and keep an eye on his daughter and the hero.

#dpxdc #death defying #defying gravity #can't remember which is the ship for Danny/Dick but yeah #giw fucked around to much and the entire dimension is gonna get cut off #they're moving people over in between fights and all #Danny gets to stake out the DC universe since he's to injured to fight for a while #Ellie is Dani deaged into a baby and Dan is reverted to core and basically needed to be incubated to heal #and Danny didn't want to burden anyone else and since he'd be stationary for a while he took it upon himself #trans Danny? yeah #trans Danny au cause i said so XD #now I'm just imagining the food coming back to life just as Dick wakes up and he can like #see the kitchen from the couch and all he sees is someone with glowing green lasers fighting moving food #he's gonna think Tameranian first i bet #that's all i got for now it's almost 2i should sleep

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1000sunnygo · 10 months

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The Three Captain's Interview (2021) : Hiroshi Kamiya as Law (Translated)

Awfully late to the party again. Here's a partial translation of the "Three Captains QnA" interview conducted in 2021 to celebrate the 100th volume of One Piece. I think most readers already accessed the translation via auto translator, or maybe someone translated already (in that case, ignore this)

I didn't find any available translation so I'm putting all of Hiroshi Kamiya's answers here. Just in case you don't know, Kamiya san in Law's voice actor. His answers were particularly long and informative, so I focused only on him.

Starts below the cut!

Q. How did you feel when you got the role?

- The casting of Namikawa san (Eustass Kidd) and I was triggered by the work "Ilya no Sora, UFO no Natsu", in which Namikawa san played the role of a timid boy in junior high school and I was a sharp-tongued senior. Hiroaki Shibata, who was the producer of that work, later became the producer of One Piece and then approached us.

I understood the flow of the process and was grateful for the offer, but both Namikawa san and I were good at giving higher pitched voices at that time. So, to be honest, we had absolutely no idea what he had in mind when he cast us. But since I was approached and I had no choice but to give it a go, I gave the character a rough, low-pitched sound that didn't go well with my personal theme but matched the character's appearance; and they gave me an OK...

But, adding a personal note, I voiced an unnamed role 'Pirate A' all the way back in the first episode. I had a few more roles afterwards, and eventually I was given the role 'Eddy' in the Sky Island Arc. After a short interval, I was very happy to be chosen for a major role with the name 'Law' and as a rookie with over a hundred million bounty like Luffy.

By nature, the sounds I make don't have a distinct quality, so I didn't have much of a chance to be cast in "ONE PIECE" filled with unique characters. But thinking about it, Law doesn't really have any outstanding feature either (laughs). Regardless, I am very grateful that I was selected out of all other choices.

(T/N: I made a separate post about Kamiya san's roles in one piece here.)

Q. Did you have any specific thoughts or feelings while playing in One Piece?

- I really wanted to play Law as a child. The past with Corazon is inseparable from the present Law, isn't it? Since Law at the moment is here because of that past, I really wanted to incorporate the childhood Law into my character.

Also, in the long history of One Piece, Luffy is the only male character who is played by the same actor for both his adult and child versions. There had never been a male voice actor who had the chance, so I had a personal ambition to set a precedent. The moment I found out that Law's past was going to be portrayed, I made a blunt confession that I absolutely wanted to play the (child Law) role. I later auditioned and was hired.

When the time came to record the episodes of Law's past and I was given a script with "Law, Hiroshi Kamiya" right next to Luffy, it meant a lot to me. Seeing the senior members of the One Piece cast team playing the main characters and monopolizing the studio microphones, I had always wanted to play as a main character in the same place someday. Unfortunately, I never had the chance, so, that time it felt like a dream come true.

I think this, too, was possible because it's a story created by Oda sensei. To begin with, it's rare for me to put up my hand to take an initiative by myself. The possibility of trying out a role and then people thinking "Totally off, this shouldn't be their voice at all" - is terrifying, isn't it? I'm a person lacking self-confidence, yet, Oda sensei created a work that moved my heart and made me feel like I wanted to express my tone, and thus I was able to have such a joyful experience. So, once again, I think One Piece is amazing.

(T/N: Kamiya san talking about voicing young Law in a different interview can be found here.)

Q. Impression of the character you're currently playing?

- I think he's a man with a deep sense of responsibility. After all, the alliance was originally formed to defeat Doflamingo by taking advantage of Luffy's desire to beat the 'Emperors', and now even after defeating him, they're still working together. That makes him an honest guy who keeps his words.

That said, he's the captain of the Heart pirates. I think he wants to reciprocate the feeling to the crew that follows him with a belief that he's the best in the world. That's why when he said "I hate breads!" and the Straw hats kept pulling him like "you're one of us too!" (laughs), he kept holding his stance, "I'm NOT gonna go that way!"

Q. Thoughts on Mayumi Tanaka as Luffy?

- I saw Mayumi san leading the anime like a boss from the moment Luffy came out of the barrel shouting "I SLEPT WELL!" in episode 1. The fact that it continues to go strong and become more popular with the viewers to this day - is truly amazing.

Q. Thoughts on Daisuke Namikawa as Kidd?

- I think Namikawa san is ridiculous! After all, back at that time he would only play characters with meek voices, I really thought he didn't have the voice range to be entrusted with such a dynamic role. I think he threw his own persona away to play Kidd.

Q. Do you think it's possible to win against Kaidou?

- It has to be. I think Luffy would be able to beat him with something beyond Law's strategy. To Law, Luffy is the one person that can create unexpected circumstances. I believe their actions would blossom meaningfully in future.

Source: @Eiichiro_staff (search up the hashtag #三船長QA on Twitter)

#one piece #kamiya hiroshi #hiroshi kamiya #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #one piece anime #monkey d. luffy #one piece law #eustass captain kidd #eustass kid #namikawa daisuke #mayumi tanaka #stray translations #one piece captain trio #one piece translations #mine #my translation

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hina-hina · 2 years

Note

do you have any hcs about a possible (cod) alex x f!reader 👀? this man has me on a chokehold and can't get enough of him

Hello friend! I am loving the new Alex requests! Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy! ヾ(≧▽≦*)o

Only about 20 requests left!! Once I get through these requests, I have a lot of fun ideas about some new stuff and maybe starting a series! We should see...

My last post flopped hard because I used the wrong tags for König .·´¯`(>▂<)´¯`·.

This work is not beta read!!

→ COD Masterlist

|| Alex General Headcanons ||

Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, General Headcanons, Blurb, Angst, Comfort, Crying, Morning Fluff, Short

Warnings: Angst

Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic

So, I wrote a couple Alex general headcanons in my last Alex post

But I'll try to elaborate some more about some little headcanons with a little short blurb written at the end

So, first of all, I imagine he takes super good care of his facial hair

Like I can see him using oils and such

Have you guys seen that TikTok about the guy talking about how he makes his chest hair soft so it doesn't bother his girlfriend? Yeah

Like I said before, he is super respectful

He probably smells really good (while off duty, not is the field obv...)

I can see his as growing up in a rural community and preferring that setting as to the city

I think he is one of the only COD boys that can cook

And he likes to do this often for you

Super gentle

Early riser, loves to wake up early and cook you breakfast

Has nightmares and likes to lay his head on your chest as he calms down

Bonus points if you run your hand through his hair

Prefers to let you trim his hair

Clingy drunk with you but more of a rambunctious drunk with others

Wanted to teach you self defense and gun safety so you could protect yourself more effectively

Him saying "Yes ma'am/sir" to you casually .·´¯`(>▂<)´¯`·.

Gives the best hugs

His love language is physical touch and words of affirmation

Ok, now for the sleepy blurb:

Alex was gone on assignment a lot. It was a fact that you had to accept before you ever entered a serious relationship with the man. He made sure to express to you how important his work was for him, trying his best to prevent any potential future arguments. You were understanding, you told him it didn't matter as long as you could be with him. You stuck by this, pushing down the ache that came everytime he had to leave again.

Yesterday, he told you he had to go on assignment again. He gave you as many details as he could but it did little to ease your worries. He said he didn't know how long he would be gone, that he had to go halfway across the world. You forced a smile and assured him that the two of you had to make this most out of this last day.

So the two of you made dinner, and talked, and laughed. He managed to make you forget that he was leaving.

The next morning, you woke up first. A rare thing not to be taken lightly. So, you laid on your side and stared at Alex's sleeping face in the orange sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. Seemingly on its own, your hand goes straight to his hair, running gently through it. He woke up slowly, eyes squinting out at you as a soft smile graced his lips.

"Good morning, baby."

You smile back, hand continuing to gently separate any knots they found, "Morning."

He moved further into your hand, humming in quiet satisfaction. With reluctance, he turns his head to check the time.

"Gotta' get up soon so I can get to the briefing in time."

Your smile immediately dropped, hand pausing. Alex immediately notices, eyes furrowing, "What's wrong?"

You force a smile and shake your head jumping up to move toward the door, "Nothing! I'll make you breakfast before you leave-"

"Hey-" He latches onto your wrist before you can move too far, "Talk to me."

The sheer look of concern on his face was what finally broke you, tears brimming in your eyes. His concerned look deepens as he shuffles to the edge of the bed to place both hands on your arms, softening his hold.

"Honey..."

"No, no, I'm-" Your voice breaks as a sob tries to climb its way up your throat.

He immediately pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly, "It's okay, your alright." He holds you until the sobs come to a stop, leaving gentle kisses along the crown of your hair. You don't need to say a word before he begins talking softly, "I know its hard when I have to leave."

"I'm sorry," you mutter after a minute, sniffling, "I know what you do is important."

He rubs your back, "Doesn't mean it doesn't suck."

"Yeah..."

He pulls back, gently lifting your face up to look up at him, "I'll always come back to you."

You can't think of any words to get across how thankful you are, how in love you are with this man. You jump up and kiss him, trying to convey all the feelings words can't describe. He seems to understand, immediately kissing back.

He pulls back after a few moments, eyes soft as he gently rubs your cheek, "Let's go make breakfast together."

"That sounds great."

Thanks for reading!

⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettproof @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you @punziesworld @heaven-angels-world @crystalliebling @southernbluebellereader @nptnewr @blueoorchid

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icedmetaltea · 8 months

Text

(tw: scissors, needles)

Pov: you get your friendship bracelet from Moon cut off :( (no literally that's the plot I'm not even joking)

Reblogs greatly appreciated!

Not his official outfit! I've since then made an actual design I like for him and will post that once I finish Moon's :> BUT I liked this pic and didn't feel like redrawing so gonna just have to deal

Details abt this one bc I feel like oversharing and have nothing better to do

. Y/n is a socially anxious nighttime security guard. They have no friends + are mega depressed + self-conscious and hide their face behind a pair of sunglasses even at night + chubby bc I SAY SO. Started a fic with them a long while ago but deleted it cause depression, they liiiiive

. Sun has access to a sewing machine (terrible idea on staff's part btw) in the crafting room and is obsessed with sewing costumes, needles, sewing scissors, that kinda thing bc of course he is. His outfit has degraded over the years so he tries to put it back together with random scraps of red fabric. He has a bunch of needles on his lil waist thing for easy access

. The daycare is actually shut down and has been for a long time, but y/n doesn't know that since they only see it at night. Sun has gone stir crazy without kids to take care of and spends his day making costumes and other crafts, preparing for children to arrive... even though they never will.

. Moon is dormant most of the time bc Sun keeps the lights whenever possible; he's very passive and sweet, and will tell bedtime stories to plushies as a way to cope with the loneliness. He's kind of aware Sun's gone batshit but can't really be bothered to do anything about it, at least not till he gets to know y/n better

I'm not sure if they're separate animatronics and Moon just goes offline when the lights are off cause like I'm prolly gonna give him a different outfit so

. Basic story idea: Y/n is doing one of their night shifts and gets a noise notification coming from the daycare. Since they never got the memo about it being closed down, they assume there's a break in and goes to check it out. Sun is nervous as shit when the two encounter each other, way out of practice with socializing, but quickly warms up and decides he must become their best friend at any cost. Y/n on the other hand is awkward as hell and doesn't know how to act around him. Sun makes as many efforts to lure them into the daycare as possible, and slowly becomes more and more obsessive, going so far as to hack into the webcam of their laptop, the security cams to see what they can see, watching them at the start and ends of shifts to make sure they don't interact with anyone else

Just as y/n begrudgingly starts to warm up to him, the power goes out and they meet Moon for the first time. They have this rlly wholesome plushie bedtime story scene but Moon soon lets slip about the daycare being closed-

Y/n starts to realize some shit is going on and confronts Sun about it but at this point he's way too cheery around them and is always dancing around them and showing them his latest sewing creations... so instead they begin turning off the lights manually every night at set times, telling Sun it's for "routine maintenance" or something but really it's to get more info out of Moon

Perhaps Moon starts to become a lil protective of them too~ They are after all a lot better of a listener than any plushie...

At this point they're both fiercely protective/possessive of y/n and don't want them being friends with anyone else. Cue jealousy and the two fighting for their attention~

At some point or another Moon makes them a friendship bracelet since he knows that'll get to Sun since he likes them so much, and also to mark Y/n as his

Sun finds it the next day, grabs a pair of sewing scissors and cuts it off in his first display of outright anger

Beyond that?? No clue 🥲

I feel compelled to refer to this ver of him as Pincushion...

#inverted au #Metaltea rambles #yandere #tw yandere #tw scissors #tw needles #scissors #needles #just to be safe

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ro-is-struggling · 8 months

Note

Hello Hello & Congratulations

Recently gotten back into some Bucky feels & wanted to ask for him with lyric prompt 2 please! Made myself laugh with a friends to lovers idea where you're cooking for Sam & Buck & Sam slides a magnet into your back pocket cause obviously he's the best wingman (& tired of the pinning). Then I found comic panels with Buck & a little white cat & if that's Alpine!! & that first show prompt is open... Don't want to over ask but just know if it's down to the wire & no one asks for it...someone asked for it >.> Thanks for reading and stay hydrated!

Hi beautiful! Thank you so much for participating in the celebration and I’m so sorry it took me so long to post this! I LOVED this prompt and the little twist you gave it so much I wrote this in like a few hours. It’s short and sweet, I hope you like it💜💜💜

More Than Friends || Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sam is tired of always getting caught in the middle of the flirting and nervous glances you and Bucky subject him to every time you're in the same room, so he comes up with a plan to give you two the little push you so desperately need to confess your feelings —and laugh at you along the way.

Warnings: set somewhere after civil war where team cap is on the run together, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, humor, Sam being tired of your shit

English is not my first language

Word count: 2000

Notes: I'm pretty sure this one is gender neutral? but I wrote it with a fem reader in mind so I'll tag it like that just in case some description slipped my tired brain while editing

This fic is part of my 600 followers celeration

Sam was tired of watching you and Bucky dance around the feelings you two clearly had for each other. Sometimes he thought you were doing it on purpose, like some kind of elaborate prank to torture him as revenge for the times he made fun of you. It was the only logical explanation he could find for your attitude. Otherwise he didn't understand why you would continually refuse to face the obvious. You were in love and everyone seemed to see it but you.

Life on the run was torture when he was stuck with the two of you. Watching you two get flustered from being crammed in the back seat of the car, Sam really thought that maybe he should have taken the Clint and Scott route and made a deal with the authorities. Home detention sounded so much better compared to the heavy tension in the air that seemed to follow you everywhere. On particularly bad days - like that time a man flirted with you in a bar and Bucky was in a bad mood all day - even traditional jail seemed like paradise in comparison.

Sam had tried everything to help you. He used to leave you alone on missions, put you in the same hotel room under the pretense that they had no more rooms, even made you sit together in the back of the car when you traveled. But despite all his efforts, you were no closer to facing your feelings than when he started. Even his subtle comments and pep talks didn't help. Every time he even dared to bring up your feelings, you acted confused and dismissed his words. He had tried it with Bucky and with you separately and you both had had almost the same response, which only proved Sam's point.

The rest of the team was tired of you too, but since they didn't have to spend half as much time as he usually did stuck with you, they didn't care. Wanda would disappear from time to time to see Vision, and Steve and Natasha were usually together in their own little world, figuring out what the next step would be. Which left him stuck with Bucky, you and the unbearable tension in the air. That's why no one understood his suffering and therefore no one was willing to help him.

Steve and Nat had told him that he should give you time, that eventually you would figure out your feelings and everything would get better. But Sam was beginning to think that would never happen. You had been dancing around each other since the day you met and showed no signs of changing. He had done everything he could to help you in subtle ways —talking to you privately or creating certain situations without your knowledge— all so as not to expose you and embarrass you, but apparently that was exactly what you needed, for something to expose your feelings and force you to confront them. And he had the perfect idea.

It came to him suddenly as he watched the two of you struggling to get comfortable in the back seat of the car. It was way too small a model, clearly not meant to comfortably transport a super soldier, so Bucky ended up taking up more than half the seat. Sam watched as he fiddled nervously with his hands, adjusting his position every five minutes to make sure his legs didn't accidentally brush yours. And as the sunlight beamed on his metal arm, Sam chuckled to himself at the thought that maybe next time he should give you pants made of magnets just to annoy Bucky.

It was like a light switched on in his head. It was the perfect way to get back at you while helping you deal with your feelings. A hilarious idea all around that made Sam proud of his creativity. It wasn't hard to execute either, he just bought some magnets and waited for you to leave the bag with your belongings unattended to slip them into the back pocket of one of your pants.

Not knowing when you would end up wearing said article of clothing added a layer of spontaneity to the situation. Even Sam had forgotten which pants he had chosen and when he saw you emerge from your room in the morning he didn't even realize his plan had been set in motion.

It was the first time in a long time that you hadn't slept in a crappy motel. Thanks to an old contact of Natasha's, you were able to stay in a safe house that had several rooms, good water pressure and a large kitchen. It wasn't the Avengers compound, but it was much better than the places you'd become accustomed to living. So, to celebrate you decided to prepare breakfast for the whole team.

You didn't let anyone help you, the very idea of someone else hanging around the kitchen while you worked on the pancakes made you anxious. You weren't a great cook by any means, but you found it easier and more relaxing to work when you had total control of the kitchen. So you sent everyone to wait elsewhere while you finished cooking. Steve opted to go out for his morning run and Natasha went back to bed, mumbling something about being woken up when there was food on the table. That left you with Sam, who settled down at the kitchen island with a glass of water to chat and keep you company. And not long after, Bucky popped his head through the door frame.

"Bucky! Just the guy I needed right now!" you said with a smile as you saw him enter the kitchen, dragging his feet as he rubbed his eyes to shake off the sleep. "Breakfast is almost ready, could you get the plates from the cabinet, please?"

Sam didn't think much of it, only that he would have to prepare himself for a morning of uncomfortable looks and flushed cheeks since you were in Bucky's way and to help you he would undoubtedly have to get closer to you than he seemed to be able to handle normally. Sam didn't remember his little joke until he felt the unexpected gasp you let out when Bucky's metal hand made contact with your backside as he reached behind you for the cabinet. He nearly choked on his water, laughter getting stuck in his throat as he watched Bucky panic, not understanding what had happened.

"I-I didn't... I mean, I'm sorry, I..." The super soldier tried hard to form a coherent sentence, but his mind was short-circuiting and his cheeks were turning a vivid shade of pink as he pulled his hand away from your body with difficulty. There was an inexplicable pull that drew him to you, making his metal arm move of its own accord, seeking to cling to you again. Bucky had to take a few steps back from you to make sure that didn't happen again.

"Well, the cat is out of the bag. Finally!" Sam exclaimed with a mischievous grin that told Bucky everything he needed to know. "Although to be honest, I was hoping you'd find a more subtle way to confess your feelings, Buck. Or at least do it in private."

"You did this?" Bucky asked, though he already knew the answer. Sam simply let out a long laugh as he rose from his seat and disappeared out the kitchen door. "You're dead, Wilson!"

“What is he talking about?”

The sound of your voice snapped Bucky out of his angry state, his gaze softening as it settled on your confused expression. The urge to murder Sam faded as he panicked, searching for an answer to give you. This wasn't the way he would have liked to confess his feelings for you, but he couldn't lie to you either-Sam had made sure of that.

"I..." Bucky hesitated, having trouble finding the courage to tell you the truth. He could hardly remember when he had last been in that position of vulnerability, having to search for the right words to express feelings he didn't know how to describe. He was rusty, the skills and confidence that characterized his younger self had been buried in the past and now he had no idea what to say to you.

"Yes?" You spoke as he fell silent, looking up at him with glittering eyes waiting to hear that thing you'd been dreaming of since the moment you two met.

Bucky sighed, defeated. "I like you, doll, like more than just a friend." He said finally, cringing at his poor choice of words. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to find out this way. It's just that Sam figured it out and has been pressuring me to talk to you about it and I guess he got tired of waiting and did all this to fuck with me."

Bucky was rambling, talking at a speed that was not normal for him. He was also having trouble making eye contact with you, his eyes looking at everything but you. You'd never seen him this... nervous. He was nervous. His cheeks turned a darker shade of pink with each passing second and he spoke so fast that his tongue threatened to get stuck halfway through each word. He was so adorable that you couldn't help but let out a giggle.

"I'm glad that he did." It took Bucky a few seconds to process your words, his flustered expression slowly morphing into a frown of confusion.

"What?" he muttered and you smiled.

Reaching into your back pocket, you pulled the magnet out. It rested flat in the palm of your hand as you got closer to Bucky. In an instant, his metal hand was on top of yours, cold against the soft, warm skin. You intertwined your fingers with his, your smile widening as he copied your movements.

"I might have to thank him later because, you see, I kinda like you too. And I've been trying to do something about it for so long but I just couldn't, so Sam kinda saved me there cause I was starting to lose it." You let out a chuckle and Bucky joined you, completely understanding the sentiment.

The room fell silent, but it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable like other times. Although you could still feel the tension in the air as Brucky's gaze traveled from your eyes to your joined hands, lingering on your lips for longer than necessary. He took a step toward you and your breath caught in your throat, your insides vibrating with anticipation.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice was a soft whisper. His warm breath collided against the sensitive skin of your face as he rested his forehead on yours, looking up at you through his eyelashes with a hint of desperation. He was waiting for your consent, needing to hear it from your voice before proceeding.

"Please." It was all you could say before Bucky's lips crashed against yours.

It was a soft, slow kiss. Bucky's lips moved with torturous sensuality over yours, a gentle brush that barely satiated your need for him. But despite that, you let him guide the kiss to ensure his comfort. Bucky wasn't usually comfortable with physical contact —not after all he'd been through— and you knew this was a big step for him. So you embraced the softness of his kisses, quieting that voice in your mind that was screaming for you to grab his face and intensify it. It was tempting, yes, but you would have time for that.

Bucky didn't pull away from you immediately when you broke the kiss. He kept his forehead pressed against yours as his flesh hand traveled upward to caress your cheek. He looked at you with complete adoration, his fingers gently stroking your skin, as if he couldn't believe what was happening, as if he was afraid of being too rough and breaking the fantasy into a thousand pieces. Then he let out a chuckle and a smile broke out on your face as you heard such a sweet melody.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, is just that... Sam is never gonna let this go."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #ro's 600 followers celebration

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sundrop-writes · 5 months

Text

Announcing my new fic: Heaven's Gate

Heaven's Gate is a long oneshot starring Daryl Dixon and a gender neutral reader character, featuring angst, hurt and comfort, and some fluff.

NOW POSTED!!!!!

In this fic, you and Daryl get separated when the prison is attacked by the Governor, and though you both believe the other person is dead, you two end up finding each other at the most unexpected time. This fic is about hope, the human connection, and how love is about more than romance - it's about how people take pieces of each other and grow with them, never truly able to forget each other.

This fic is going to be a longer oneshot that is currently about 15k long - and will likely be longer by the time it has gone through editing. It is 80% of the way done in my drafts (not including editing), and I hope to have it posted by April 30th - which is a tentative date that may change. If you want to know for certain when the fic is posted, you can follow me here and turn on notifcations or you can subscribe to me on AO3 to get an email notification when the fic is posted. I am really excited to share this fic with all of you 💖.

Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you wanna get a better sense for the upcoming fic you can read it. If you enjoy this preview and you're excited for what the fic holds, please let me know!

Also an important note: with my gender neutral reader fics, I don't use any references to gender whatsoever (this is not a 'GN afab' fic). And in this fic in particular, I didn't use any pronouns (other than you/yours) or gendered terms for the reader - and at points where the terms they/them were used, I made it purposefully vague so that the dialogue could be referring to the whole group as 'they' or just the reader. I want my gender neutral fics to be enjoyed by everyone - cis women, cis men, gender non conforming people, trans people - every kind of fanfiction reader.

I am making this post for two major reasons - one, I want to generate as much excitement for oneshots as there is for series. Especially for oneshots that are longer than 10k because those take a lot of time and effort. If a series is like a TV show, then long oneshots are like a feature film. And two - nobody seems to read my pinned post where I announce new upcoming fics anyway, so I might as well make posts like these so that people can know what to expect from me. And hopefully you guys will get excited about my upcoming fics this way. And when I tag these posts with the relevant tags, people interested in those topics can follow me to anticipate the fic if they want to read it.

Heaven's Gate (Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader) - Preview

Preview Word Count: 1,800

Warnings: no pronouns used for the reader other than you/yours; there are major plot spoilers for The Walking Dead if you are watching the show for the first time - spoilers for Season 2 all the way up through Season 5; typical warnings for TWD - mentions of death, emotional despair; all of these themes and emotions are expanded upon in the full fic.

...

“Daryl!”

You called out his name as you jogged up toward the stables, and he stopped in his tracks, waiting for you to catch up with him.

“Daryl, hey.” You greeted him with a small smile. “Rick told me you’d be up here.”

He grunted in reply. “Yeah. ‘m gonna take a horse out. Make better ground t’ look for the girl.”

Your stomach clenched at him mentioning her.

The group was supposed to be headed out towards Fort Bennet - supposed to be finding refuge at the hopefully safe military base. Instead, you were all setting up camp at the very reluctant Hershel Greene’s farm, not straying too far from where you had lost one of your own in the hopes of finding her.

But that was why you had come to talk to Daryl in the first place.

Sophia had become like a sister to you in the few short months that you had known her, and though it was unlikely, you were hopeful that she was alive - that she would be found. And you did believe that Daryl would be the one to find her.

“How’s the trail?” You asked. “Do you think you know which way she headed? You - you can be honest with me.”

You hesitated on the last part. But you did want his honesty more than anything. And you knew that he was never one to sugar-coat things. Even if you hadn’t told him that, he would have given you the truth anyway.

“Trail’s a little muddy.” He said, doling out that honesty. “‘m gon follow the river. It’s her biggest landmark out there, so she’ll probably be somewhere around it.”

You smiled at him. And then, you remembered -

“I brought you something.” You noted, reaching for the back pocket of your jeans.

Daryl watched with quiet curiosity as you pulled out a piece of paper - when you showed it to him, he quickly realized that it was a half-used set of stickers.

“These are some of the stickers that I got for Sophia,” You explained. “My mom always used to tell me that cardinals are good luck.”

You peeled off a sticker of a bright red bird - as much of a nature man as he was, Daryl was never one for bird watching. He didn’t care about identifying certain species of birds unless he could shoot and eat them. But he quickly reasoned that this must be the cardinal that you spoke of.

“Give me your bow.” You said, shoving the rest of the sticker sheet into your back pocket again and holding out your hand expectantly.

“I don’t need no luck.” He replied, voice full of snark.

“Just give it.” You replied - equally snarky, equally stubborn.

Daryl sighed and tugged his bow’s strap over his head, presenting it to you. You placed the sticker on the bow’s handle, in one of the places where it wasn’t as worn down from him holding it.

“There,” You said, giving it back to him with a smile. “Now you’re all set.”

It was more for you than it was for him - a token of good faith and protection. The idea that you could do something to bring Sophia home when you felt so powerless.

Daryl let out a harsh sound - somewhere between a laugh and a sarcastic snort as he walked away. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” You replied brightly, edging on sarcastic once again.

…

When the prison was attacked, Daryl got out with Beth.

He almost couldn’t stand her bright eyes, big eyes staring at him, waiting for answers - her chirpy little voice, prodding at him, demanding that they ‘follow the trail’ and go look for everyone else. Telling him that he was a tracker, that he could find them. As if it was his damn responsibility just because he had the skills to get it done.

It was all too reminiscent of you, telling him that he could find Sophia. That it wasn’t an ‘if’ - it was a ‘when’.

Perhaps that was what got him off his ass and doing what he did best - reading the dirt.

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, staring at the girl curiously as she went to one of the bushes and rushed to pick berries from branches. Had she not gotten enough to eat that morning?

“They’ll be hungry when we find them.” Beth told him confidently.

Of course. That undefeatable streak of optimism.

Daryl knew that blueberries weren’t your favorite - but he should have something to give you. He would be too busy tracking the footprints to properly hunt for squirrels or rabbits and clean them for you. So, he found himself pulling a large bandana from his back pocket and offering it to Beth - something to hold the berries in to keep them safe as an offering for you.

“Here.” He grunted at her.

Beth smiled at him.

It was one of the last smiles she gave him for a long time.

When they came across those bodies splayed out beside the tracks - any sense of hope was crushed inside of him. The picture you had gifted him was heavy inside his breast pocket, and he hated that tears threatened his eyes - even if he knew that none of those bodies belonged to you. There was no trace of you there.

The days started to blur into each other, and Daryl couldn’t get you off his mind.

One hazy evening, as they both stared into the fire with dead looks on their faces, he took the drawing out of his pocket and unfolded it.

For good luck.

He didn’t believe in luck - because it didn’t exist. The world was fucked. Nobody was lucky. You and your good luck were dead.

He tossed the drawing into the fire, and it was only a moment, when the corner of it had barely caught, when Beth snatched it out. She stomped on it with her boot, successfully saving it.

“Don’t do that.” She hissed at him.

Daryl snatched it from her, and crumbled it up, tossing it aside. He let out a grunt, but refused to look at her.

“That was from Y/N, wasn’t it?” She posed.

He could feel her imposing stare as she waited for an answer.

He didn’t give her one.

“You can’t burn them just because you think they’re dead.” Beth sighed. “You can’t burn up memories. We’re gonna find them. Y/N, and Maggie, and Michonne, and - and everyone.”

Daryl scoffed. “Yeah. Cause that’s gon’ happen.”

Beth rolled her eyes, but didn’t speak any further on the subject.

After she had fallen asleep - when the fire was dull, Daryl picked up the crumbled ball and smoothed it out again. The charred corner hadn’t even touched your bird. He felt like a fool doing it, just as much of a fool as he accused you of being, but he folded it neatly - well, as neatly as he could - and then put it back into his breast pocket again.

But that was the thing - Daryl wished that he could. He wished he could burn up those memories.

That you would stop haunting him. Then he wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore.

…

“Can I see it again?” Beth asked, suddenly changing the subject.

Again, this was a confusing little whip for Daryl - something that clearly only made sense to Beth in her own drunken mind.

“See what?” Daryl replied.

“The picture.” Beth answered. “The one you tried to burn.”

Daryl felt a pinch of guilt surge over him at the thought. Oddly enough, this was the one time he would be willing to admit that Beth was right - you can’t burn up memories.

“It was Y/N, wasn’t it? That drew it.” Beth added on, her words slurring slightly - she lifted the mason jar of booze to her lips again and Daryl was tempted to snatch it away from her.

Instead, he found his hand drifting to his breast pocket and reaching to take the picture out. He presented it to Beth, who put down her drink to unfold it - she stared at the picture fondly under the brightness of the moonlight, tracing a finger over the slightly faded details.

“You know… my daddy used to tell me that a cardinal is like an angel.” Beth said, recognizing the bird from her father’s teachings on the farm. “Someone - someone you loved who passed away, watching over you from heaven.”

“Y/N said they was good luck.” Daryl replied.

Beth shrugged. “Same thing.”

It was this thought that kept Daryl going for a long time. The idea that even if you were dead, you were watching over him somehow. He sure as hell didn’t believe that someone like Merle would be an angel - but you, you definitely were. And even if it was a waste of your eternal life, you would be determined to watch over Daryl - to make sure that he was safe, well-guided.

You would make sure that he was lucky.

That thought alone carried him through the long journey to D.C.

It was something that lingered in his mind as the group hunkered down in a random barn - as he spotted something carved into one of the wooden beams holding the place up. Even though it wasn’t colored, he could have sworn that the long tail and pointed head of the silhouette indicated that the carving was meant to be cardinal. Of course.

Who knows who had stayed in the barn before them - if it had been left there by a weary traveler, or even put there by someone who had used the barn before the turn. But Daryl could have sworn that you - your ghost, your angelic hand - had led him to this very spot.

It was a thought that gave him strength as he held the doors up - helped to keep them from caving in while the storm raged outside.

Your luck, and your damn bird - you would keep him safe.

When they reached Alexandria, and they were forced to give up their weapons - Daryl spotted your bird perched on the fence. Bright red, with its pointy head cocked sideways at him. All too knowing, staring at him like it wanted to say something. Just like it had been when he had fallen off the cliff out in the woods when he had been looking for Sophia.

Oddly enough, it made him feel safe giving up his crossbow - perching it on top of the fully loaded cart of weapons before the awkward, bespeckled woman wheeled it away.

Rick was still weary of this new place after Terminus, and Daryl understood. He followed Rick’s lead. Especially because he couldn’t tell Rick that he had a good feeling about this place because he saw a damn bird.

But even if it was just in spirit, he felt you there. He knew that it was the home you had chosen for them.

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