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multi-fandom-imagine · 1 month ago

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The First Time || Dante Sparda ||

A/n: Part two of Dante fingering the reader but now you two fuck!

Warnings: p in v , virginity loss , cream pie

Dante carried you to the bedroom like you weighed nothing, arms strong and steady. The adrenaline of earlier had faded, leaving behind a pulsing, aching desire that settled deep in your belly. Your thighs still trembled from your climax, and yet you clung to him, craving more.

You could practically feel your heart pounding rapidly in your chest. Nibbling your bottom lip, you clung to the man looking up at him as he laid you down on the bed—his bed—soft sheets brushing your skin as he hovered over you, eyes scanning every inch of your face.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he murmured, fingers brushing your cheek.

You nodded. Nervous, breathless, but aching to be touched again.

Aching for him

He kissed you slowly—deep, but unhurried. No rush now. Just the two of you in the quiet dark, the world outside silenced for once.

But when his hands slipped down to your waist, fingers hooking into your panties, you froze.

He noticed it instantly. That tiny flinch. The small intact of your breath.

“Hey,” he whispered against your lips. “Talk to me.”

You hesitated, then barely breathed the words, “I’ve… never done this before.” The words slipped out and suddenly you regretted it because why would he ever want a virgin?

His body stilled above you. His expression didn’t shift—no mockery, no surprise. Just something deeper in his eyes. Gentler. Protective.

“You mean—” he started.

You nodded quickly. “Y-Yeah. I’m a virgin.”

There was a long pause. His thumb gently stroked your hip, grounding you.

“You should’ve told me,” he said softly, voice low and sincere.

“I didn’t want you to stop...I just…” Your voice trailing off for a moment.

That made him smile. Slow. Dangerous. But full of something almost sweet.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your throat, “I’m not stopping. But I am going to take my damn time with you.”

You whimpered as he kissed lower, lips tracing a path between your breasts, down your stomach, slow enough to make your skin burn.

“No rushing,” he murmured, settling between your thighs, his breath hot against your inner thigh. “No pain. No fear. Just you, melting for me.”

He removed your panties with reverence, like they were delicate silk. Then he just looked at you, lips parted, gaze dark and awed.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he said, dragging a knuckle slowly down your slit, making you arch into his touch.

“D-Dante…”

“Shhh.” His fingers were back—one at first, rubbing slow circles over your clit. Then slipping down to tease your entrance. He didn’t even try to push inside yet—just circled, coaxed, explored. “I’m gonna stretch you nice and slow, baby. Gotta make sure you’re ready to take all of me.”

You moaned, legs falling open further for him. Your body finally relaxing as you bucked your hips against his fingers.

His finger dipped in—just the tip. Then back out. Then a little deeper. Patient. Gentle. Torturous.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned. “So warm. Your body’s gonna drive me fucking insane.”

You whimpered, hips lifting to chase his finger.

“I want you,” you breathed.

He looked up, eyes heavy-lidded and intense. “You have me. But I’m not just gonna fuck you, sweetheart.”

He crawled back up, kissing your neck, your jaw, brushing his cock—hard and hot—against your thigh.

“I’m going to make love to you. Slow. Deep. Until you forget you were ever untouched.”

And with one hand laced through yours and the other guiding himself to your entrance, he watched you carefully.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he murmured, lips brushing yours.

Your legs were already wrapped around his waist, his tip nudging against your entrance, teasing. Every nerve in your body was lit up like fire under his touch.

“Yes,” you whispered. “I want you.”

“Then you’ve got me,” he said, voice low and rough. “All of me.”

He pushed in slow—so slow you could feel every inch of him, stretching you open with a delicious ache. Your breath caught, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as he eased deeper. He paused halfway in, his forehead resting against yours.

“You okay?” he asked, voice strained.

You nodded, already trembling around him. “It just… it’s a lot.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, baby. I’m not small.”

You laughed breathlessly through the sting. He kissed you, a deep kiss to swallow the small gasp and then moved he again��sliding deeper, inch by inch, until his hips met yours. You gasped, full to the brim, the stretch sharp but slowly melting into pressure, pleasure, him.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “Taking me so damn good.”

He didn’t move yet. Just stayed there, buried inside you, his hand brushing your cheek, his lips kissing the corner of your mouth. Letting your body adjust. Letting you feel him.

Then he pulled back, just slightly, and thrust in again—slow, smooth, grinding against your walls.

Your moan was soft, involuntary. Your thighs squeezed around his waist.

“That feel good, baby?” he whispered.

You nodded, gasping. “Y-Yeah. So full…”

He kissed you again, deeper this time. His thrusts stayed slow, measured, like he had all the time in the world. He hit spots you didn’t even know existed, and every time he rolled his hips just right, your body shivered under him.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he praised, voice all gravel and heat. “So tight, so wet. Like your body was made for mine.”

Your nails dragged down his back, and he groaned—like he loved the way you clung to him, overwhelmed.

“Dante, I—I think I’m close,” you gasped, the heat inside you coiling fast.

“Let go for me,” he murmured, rocking into you. “Come while I’m deep inside you, baby. I want to feel it.”

His thumb brushed your clit at the same time, and your body shattered—back arching, mouth falling open as your orgasm rushed through you like a wave. You clenched around him, and he swore, hips faltering.

“Fuck, that’s it—god, you feel so fucking good—”

He thrust deeper, faster now, chasing his own high. Still controlled. Still gentle. But with that primal edge.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled. “Gonna claim this sweet little pussy.”

You moaned helplessly, still riding the aftershocks, and with one final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and came with a low, broken groan—his warmth spilling into you, his body collapsing against yours.

For a long time, neither of you moved. You just lay there, wrapped around him, completely full and completely his.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were soft. Tender.

“You okay, baby?” he whispered, brushing hair from your face.

You smiled, dazed, and nodded. “More than okay.”

He kissed your forehead. “Next time,” he said, smirking again, “you’re riding me.”

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colouredbyd · 23 days ago

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We Will Be Okay

poly!marauders x fem!reader

Summary: After days of silence, you’re attacked and left broken. Only then do the Marauders realize what they’ve done. Their apologies remind you that, even in darkness, you're not alone.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Angst, emotional vulnerability, emotional hurt, major argument ,mentions of injury / physical harm, guilt , violence (graphic), hurt/comfort

Authors note: lowkey more angsty than what i planned but still happy ending :D

masterlist

It started quietly. Like most heartbreaks do.

You’d been off all day, and somewhere deep down, you were hoping someone would notice. That maybe one of them—just one—would catch the way your hands trembled when you picked up your quill, or how you hadn’t touched your food since breakfast. But the hours passed like shadows stretching long, and no one looked your way with concern. Not Sirius with his careless charm. Not James with his golden heart. Not even Remus, who could read poetry between the lines of silence, but somehow missed the silence in you.

You weren’t angry then. Not really. You were something smaller, something colder. Disappointment had a way of settling in your chest like frost—beautiful and quiet and cruel. You walked beside them through the halls, their laughter echoing against stone walls, and tried to match their rhythm, but your steps felt wrong, like they belonged to someone else.

You asked them to meet you after Defense. You hadn’t said much—just that you needed them. Your voice had been thin, barely tethered to your throat, but James nodded distractedly, Sirius brushed his lips against your cheek like a promise, and Remus gave your hand a soft squeeze. You held onto that gesture like a lifeline.

They never came.

You sat outside the greenhouse as the sky turned a muted gray, your cloak pulled tight around your knees. The wind bit through the seams. You waited. Five minutes. Ten. Thirty. A full hour. No footsteps. No familiar voices. No Marauders. Only the hollow ache that curled in your stomach like something starved.

When the cold crept into your fingers and the numbness reached your spine, you stood, slowly, as if your bones had aged a hundred years in a single hour. You didn’t cry until you were halfway back to the common room, and even then, it was silent. Just wet cheeks and the burn of being forgotten.

By the time you pushed through the portrait hole, the weight in your chest had turned molten.

They were there, of course. Sprawled across the common room like they had never made a promise to you. Sirius lounged on the couch, his grin lazy and effortless. James was on the floor, tossing a snitch between his hands. Remus sat by the fire with a book open, though his eyes weren’t reading.

Your voice was quiet when it came. “Must’ve been a good practice.”

James glanced up, flashing a bright smile. “Yeah, brilliant actually. Padfoot nearly killed me though, bloody show-off.”

Sirius chuckled, stretching like a cat. “You’re just mad I scored.”

“You never showed up,” you said.

Three pairs of eyes turned toward you, the air around them suddenly heavier.

“What?” James blinked.

“After Defense. I asked you to meet me.”

Remus straightened in his seat. “You said you were fine.”

“I lied.”

The silence that followed was not surprised. It was guilty. The kind of silence that knows what it missed.

“I waited,” you said, your voice thickening. “Outside. For an hour. I was freezing. I was crying. I felt like I was coming apart and I waited because I thought one of you might care enough to come.”

Sirius stood, brows furrowed. “Wait, we didn’t know—”

“You didn’t ask.” The words came sharp, bitter on your tongue. “You didn’t even look.”

James stood too, hands half-raised. “Love, we had practice. You didn’t say—”

“You don’t need me to say anything when Remus limps after the full moon. You’re all around him before he even opens his mouth. When Sirius gets a letter, you can feel it without even reading it. And when James is quiet, you know the sadness before he does. You read each other like scripture. Like something sacred.”

Your voice cracked, but you kept going.

“But me? I’m invisible unless I’m breaking in front of you.”

“No, that’s not true,” Remus murmured.

“Isn’t it?” You looked at him now, the ache in your chest shining through your eyes. “I go silent, and none of you flinch. I pull away, and you let me. I stop laughing, and you just talk louder. Do you know what it feels like to be surrounded by the people you love most and still feel completely alone?”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair. “You could’ve said something, baby.”

“I did. I said I needed you today. I asked for one thing. One moment. One chance to not have to carry it alone.”

James stepped closer, slower this time, like he was approaching a wounded animal. “You’re being unfair.”

“No. I’m being honest.”

There was a long breath between you. The kind that hangs before something shatters.

“You’re not mind-readers,” you said, looking at Remus again, voice quieter now, more tired than angry.

He nodded slightly, guilt lining his expression. “We’re not.”

“No. You’re not. But you read each other. You always do. You feel it. You respond to it.”

You blinked, and a single tear slipped down your cheek.

“But not me.”

This time, no one spoke. Not to deny it. Not to argue. Not even to explain.

You stood in the middle of the common room, feeling like a ghost in your own life.

And they just watched.

Like they finally saw you—only after you broke.

You didn’t speak to them for four days. You didn’t sit beside James in the Great Hall, didn’t brush shoulders with Remus as he passed you your favorite quill in Transfiguration, didn’t catch Sirius’s eye when he hovered behind you on your way out of class, searching your face for something—anything.

You were polite. Distant. Deadly quiet. A nod here, a murmur there. But nothing real. Nothing kind. No softness left in your gaze, no warmth in the corners of your smile.

It was worse than screaming.Worse than fury.It was absence. And it was killing them.

James had started bringing an extra pumpkin juice to breakfast every morning, still setting it beside him out of instinct, only to watch it go untouched, growing warm while he sat beside it like a boy with no idea how to undo the damage he helped cause. Remus had stopped asking questions aloud. He already knew the answers—or worse, knew he didn’t deserve them. He buried himself in parchment, eyes red-rimmed from nights spent rewriting apologies he couldn’t find the courage to speak, because what words could reach a silence like yours?

And Sirius—he was unraveling. Coming apart at the seams. Pacing the corridors at night like a man possessed, all sharp movements and bitten lips, a storm held barely in check. He didn’t sleep, didn’t speak unless he had to. The glint in his eyes had dulled to something dangerous. He looked like a ghost who couldn’t stop haunting the last place he’d seen you smile.

They tried everything. Notes slipped under your dormitory door—ink smudged with trembling hands, hearts poured into parchment. Waiting for you after class, offering hesitant smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes. Gentle words murmured like confessions into a silence that refused to give anything back.

But you remained untouched.

Because for once, just once, you needed them to feel it. To feel what it was like to be ignored. To be pushed aside. To ache alone. Even if it shattered you, too.

It happened on the fifth day.

The air had turned bitter, the kind of cold that felt personal—something that clawed beneath your robes and curled into your ribs. The soft amber light of the afternoon filtered weakly through the cracked greenhouse windows, shadows slanting long across the tables as you repotted Fluttering Ferns with numb, clumsy hands. Professor Sprout had given you space, sensing the storm in your silence.

But peace was a fragile illusion. It always was.

By the time you stepped outside, dusk had begun to fall, painting the world in hues of gray and gold. You moved like something hollow, each step heavy, each breath scraped raw against the walls of your chest. You were so tired. So endlessly tired.

Tired of pretending it didn’t hurt. Tired of missing people who didn’t seem to miss you back, at least not when it mattered most.

You didn’t hear the first hex. Not until it was too late.

One moment, you were standing beneath the bare branches, the cold threading through your fingers. The next, a bolt of red light slammed into your chest, knocking the breath from your lungs as if the world itself had struck you down.

Your legs crumpled beneath you. The ground rushed up fast, unforgiving, your palms scraping across dirt and gravel as you landed hard. The ache in your ribs bloomed sharp and immediate, spreading outward in shuddering waves. You gasped, but no air came. The world narrowed to a pinpoint, and you blinked rapidly, trying to stay conscious.

A second curse hit. This time your shoulder—a crackling burst of pain that felt like lightning poured straight into your bones. You cried out, or tried to, but it came out a hoarse gasp. The pain was immense, searing through the muscles and down your arm until your fingers went limp.

And then the third hit you like a whip.

It tore through your side, slicing clean through fabric and flesh. You screamed then, you know you did, because it felt like the scream came from somewhere deeper than your throat. Somewhere buried. The pain was bright and brutal, wild like a creature with no name.

Blood soaked through your robes, warm and sticky. It slid down your ribs in rivulets, staining your skin in rivers of red. You tried to reach for your wand, to move, to crawl, but your limbs betrayed you. Your fingers twitched and spasmed, nothing more.

You were trembling. Shaking so hard your teeth chattered. Your body was going into shock, you knew that. Part of your mind screamed to stay awake, but the rest of you just wanted to rest. To close your eyes and let it be over.

Then came the laughter.

It was low, mocking, and cruel.

Rosier’s voice, thick with amusement, cut through the haze of pain. “Isn’t it pathetic?” he sneered, his words slipping into your blood-slicked skin like poison. “The Gryffindor princess thinks she’s untouchable. Thinks the world will bend to her.”

Mulciber’s laugh joined, jagged and dark, ringing through the trees. “She’s nothing without her little pack of fools.”

You tried to turn your head, tried to look at them, but your vision was swimming—dizzy, unfocused. You could taste the earth on your tongue, gritty and sharp, and the world was starting to spin in the most awful way.

The words felt like daggers, slipping between your ribs, cutting deeper than any spell could. You couldn’t even find the strength to lift your wand, to scream. All you could do was lie there, broken, helpless, blood pooling beneath you like a dark promise.

The fourth curse hit your ribs. Something cracked. You felt it. Something inside you gave way completely, not just bone, but something more fragile. Your spirit. Your hope.

You thought of James’s gentle eyes, the way he’d always saved you a seat. Of Remus’s quiet steadiness, his soft laughter. Of Sirius, loud and brave and furious, looking back at you in the corridor, hoping for a smile that never came.

What if this is the last thing they remember of me?

You were just a bleeding body in the woods. Just another cautionary tale. Just another girl the world didn’t save.

“Doesn’t even matter if she dies,” Mulciber sneered. “Who’s going to come for her now?”

But the world had already started to fade. Everything was slowing down. The cold wasn't biting anymore. It was crawling in.

And in that final, terrible moment, you wished—not for a miracle, not even for revenge—but for a hand to hold.

Just one. To remind you that you weren’t alone.

But no hand came. And the world went silent.

You don’t know how long you lay there. Time ceased to exist, and all that was left was pain, a tidal wave that swallowed every inch of you. The only thing that tethered you to the world was the cold, the bitter cold that gnawed at your limbs, the faint buzzing in your skull, and the odd, rhythmic thumping of your heart.

It wasn’t until the wind shifted, until the first rays of dusk began to curl their fingers through the trees, that the world came back into focus.

And then there was nothing—no air in your lungs, no strength in your body, only a strange detachment. The stars above you were a distant thing. So far away, so far beyond your reach.

It had been four days. Four days of desperate hope that you’d walk into the Great Hall, that you’d knock on their door, or slip back into your usual routine, but you never did. Every corner they turned, every moment of looking into the spaces where you used to be, only made it worse.

James couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed. He could barely remember the last time he’d felt anything other than the sharp ache of your absence.

Remus hadn’t said much at all. He’d been quieter than usual, retreating into his books and their shared study sessions, but they both knew—he was spiraling. Not as visibly as James, but you could see it in the way his hand trembled when he flipped through the pages of his Potions textbook or how he would glance at your usual seat at dinner and then look away, like a wound that couldn’t heal.

Sirius? He had become unrecognizable. His smiles were gone, replaced by a constant scowl, and when he wasn’t throwing punches at the walls or muttering under his breath in frustration, he would pace the corridors, muttering your name like a prayer, a curse, a plea. If anyone had asked, they’d have thought he was furious, but if you looked closely enough, you’d see the raw pain underneath it all, the brokenness no one dared acknowledge.

They were walking, not really speaking to each other, not really aware of where they were going. James’s eyes kept flicking to the doorways as though you might suddenly appear from behind one, and Remus’s fingers were twitching with the need to reach out and touch you. Sirius’s hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw tight, trying to keep himself together, but everyone could see the storm brewing in his eyes. It was like they were waiting for something to give, for something to break.

And then someone came rushing toward them—a student they didn’t know, pale, wide-eyed, their steps panicked.

“Why are you three here!?” the student asked, breathless, eyes darting back down the hall behind them. There was no greeting, no civility, just the sharp edge of disbelief.

The Marauders stopped in their tracks, confusion rippling through them. “What do you mean?” Sirius asked, his voice hoarse, his brow furrowing. “What’s going on?”

The student’s eyes flickered nervously. “You don’t know?” they said, voice trembling slightly. They looked between the boys, clearly startled by the way they seemed to have no idea what was happening. “She’s in the Infirmary. Everyone knows. Everyone knows.”

James’s heart slammed in his chest. His mind struggled to catch up with the words, but they pierced through him, leaving nothing but a hollowed-out, agonizing ache. “What… what do you mean? Who?” he managed to choke out, but he knew. Deep down, he knew.

“(Y/N)” the student said, their voice trembling now. “She’s hurt. She’s really hurt. Bad. Really bad. They found her out by the greenhouse, half-dead… blood everywhere.”

James’s breath hitched. Remus’s face went ashen. Sirius froze, his hands falling to his sides. The world seemed to go still for a moment, as if the reality hadn’t quite sunk in yet. And then, as if something inside each of them snapped, they turned on their heels, all rushing toward the Infirmary.

Every step felt like a thousand miles.

Sirius, usually the calm and collected one, was the first to lose control. He ran faster than the others, his mind already spiraling. No no no no—the mantra echoed in his brain, a chant that couldn’t stop. He could barely feel the cold stone of the floor underfoot, only the pounding of his heart in his chest as it thudded in his ears.

James’s voice cracked as he called out to you. “Please… please be okay…”

And Remus? He was already half a step behind, his steps hurried but strained. His heart was pounding in his throat as a mix of guilt and panic twisted his insides into knots. I should’ve done more. I should’ve done something.

They reached the Infirmary door, slamming it open, breathless, panic-stricken, and there she was.

The sight of you, broken and bloody, was something they weren’t prepared for. Something they’d never wanted to see.

You were there, lying on one of the beds, pale, drenched in sweat and blood, and the entire room seemed soaked in it. It pooled at your side, staining the white sheets a stark, crimson red. Your robes were ripped, jagged tears in them, and your skin was bruised and battered. Blood was still trickling from a gash on your temple, down your neck, staining your collarbone. Another wound on your side was still bleeding, the cut too deep for any normal healing charm. And the bruises, dark and swollen, bloomed over your arms, your legs, everywhere.

James felt like the floor had just disappeared beneath him.

He stumbled forward, his hands shaking as he reached out for you, but stopped himself, not knowing how to touch you, afraid of making it worse. He was too late. He had been too late. He couldn’t hold back the tremor in his voice as he called out to you, “Y/N, please… please wake up, please… We’re here, we’re here, love…”

Remus fell to his knees beside you, his breath ragged as he looked over every inch of you. The color drained from his face as the realization hit him—he hadn’t done enough. He hadn’t saved you when he should’ve. “I—I should have been there,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible. “I should have seen it. Why didn’t I see it?”

Sirius… he didn’t know what to do. His chest was tight, every word in his mind coming out as French curses under his breath. “Putain… non, non, non…” The words came out as angry sobs, harsh and jagged. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry… please, please be okay. I—I can’t lose you. I can’t—” His voice cracked, the rawness of his panic making his chest ache. He reached for your hand, but his fingers were trembling so violently he could hardly make contact. “I should have protected you, damn it…”

And then James collapsed beside you, his whole body trembling. He broke down, tears streaming down his face, his shoulders shaking violently as he sobbed uncontrollably. “I—I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please, I never meant to hurt you. Please—don’t leave me. I can’t—I can’t live with myself if you—”

Remus tried to pull James back, his own hands shaking as he gripped his shoulders. “James… calm down, my love, breathe, breathe,” he urged desperately, his voice filled with pain, but his words were faltering, as if his own chest was collapsing in on him. “We’ll fix this. We can fix this—”

But James was beyond hearing. The panic was rising in him, clawing at his throat, choking him, until it felt as though he couldn’t breathe. His sobs were louder now, broken, desperate.

Sirius had fallen silent, staring at you, his eyes wide, frantic, as if he was seeing the reality of your injury but couldn’t believe it. He kept muttering in French under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “Mon Dieu… no, this can’t be real. Please, no—not like this…”

The scene was chaos, the air thick with their grief, their guilt, and the blood that kept staining the floor. Their world had shattered, and all they could do was stare at you, broken and bleeding, and wonder how they’d ever put the pieces back together.

It had been a week since the infirmary bled scarlet.

Seven days since your unconscious body was carried in, limbs limp, robes torn and stained the color of mourning. Since your blood had dried beneath their trembling hands, since Madam Pomfrey had pushed them out of the room with a glare sharp enough to cut bone. Seven days since the world tilted on its axis and none of the boys had been able to breathe quite right.

Now, the hospital wing was cloaked in silence. A strange, reverent quiet. The kind of stillness reserved for cathedrals and funerals.

You were no longer on the brink of death—but barely.

Wrapped in bandages, some still stained pink. Salves coated your bruised ribs. A potion-infused cloth was tied gently around your temple. You hadn’t said much since waking. Not to them, not to anyone.

And yet they came. Every morning. Every hour they could.

Sirius would sit by your bedside, speaking in low, broken French, brushing your hair away from your eyes even when they were closed. James paced endlessly, muttering half-formed thoughts to himself, fingers twitching like they itched to hold your hand but feared the weight of your rejection. Remus had taken to reading to you—old poetry, mostly—his voice soft, barely above a whisper.

None of them said the thing they were all thinking: We thought you’d die. And we weren’t there.

The days that followed bled into one another, soft and silent and slow, as if time itself were limping alongside your broken body.

The Infirmary lights were always dim now, flickering like candles at a funeral. The scent of antiseptic clung to every breath. You stirred in and out of consciousness—each awakening a slow crawl through pain. Your body felt like it had been stitched back together with trembling hands and tears. Every breath hurt. Every inch of skin screamed. But you were alive. Barely. Beautifully. Tragically.

And they were still there.

Your boys.

Silent. Fragile. Hollow.

They never left your side, not for a second.

Sirius sat nearest to your bed, always in the same chair, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his fingers tangled in his hair. He didn’t speak, not really. He whispered sometimes, soft little French nothings like prayers he didn’t know he was saying. His eyes were glassy, rimmed red, the gleam in them long extinguished. Once, you caught him reaching out, like he meant to brush a curl from your forehead. But his hand stopped midair and trembled there before falling back to his lap like it weighed a thousand pounds.

James looked the worst, like he hadn’t slept since they found you. His curls were unwashed, his face ghostly pale, dark shadows carved beneath his eyes. He paced most of the time, back and forth in quiet fury, hands flexing helplessly, like there was something he should be doing, could be doing, but didn’t know what. And when he wasn’t pacing, he was crying. Quietly. In corners. He tried to hide it, but you heard it. You always did.

Remus was the stillest, the softest. He barely moved at all. He read aloud sometimes, in a voice that cracked and shook. He fluffed your pillow, changed your bandages, held your hand gently, like it might crumble in his. But his silence said more than any of it. He was unraveling at the seams, guilt eating through him like moths through silk.

The healers came and went. But the boys—your boys—they stayed. And though none of you spoke much, though your voice was weak and their courage was weaker, something lived in the silence. An apology. A hope. A promise not yet spoken.

It was evening again. The sky bled lavender and gold through the infirmary windows.

Remus was the first to break the silence.

“You used to hum when you read,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “Did you know that?”

You blinked slowly. It was the first time you’d responded at all.

“I didn’t realize I missed it until it was gone.”

Sirius looked up from where he sat cross-legged on the floor. His eyes were rimmed in red. “I miss everything. The way you laugh. The way you argue with me like you’re not scared of me. Even the way you kick me in your sleep.”

You shifted slightly in the bed, a wince ghosting across your face. James immediately straightened, panic in his eyes. “Do you need Pomfrey? Are you—are you okay? I’ll get her, I—”

You shook your head gently.

He collapsed back into the chair, dragging his hands down his face.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispered. “I keep thinking about it—about that night. I keep seeing you bloodied, in the dark, broken, and I—I can’t fix it. I’m supposed to fix everything.”

“You’re not,” you rasped, voice weak and raspy.

The room fell still.

James looked up like he’d just seen a ghost. “What?”

You exhaled slowly. “You’re not supposed to fix everything.”

Sirius stood abruptly. “We didn’t see you. We didn’t hear you. And then we nearly lost you and we—” His voice cracked. “I—I didn’t get to say I was sorry.”

Your eyes found his. And for the first time in days, you saw him. Really saw him. The grief swimming in the gray of his irises. The guilt carved into the sharp edges of his cheekbones.

“I don’t know how to forgive you yet,” you whispered.

“We’ll wait,” Remus said immediately. “We’ll wait forever, dove.”

James dropped to his knees beside your bed, forehead pressed to the mattress beside your arm. “I love you,” he sobbed. “God, I love you so much, and I keep thinking if we’d just listened, if we’d seen you, you wouldn’t have been out there alone—”

“I thought about you,” you murmured. “When I was on the ground. I thought about how mad you’d be if I died.”

That shattered something in all of them.

Remus leaned forward, pressing a trembling kiss to your knuckles. “You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to be left behind.”

“I didn’t want to be the girl who needed,” you said. “But I did. I needed you.”

Sirius stepped closer, his voice barely holding together. “I’m so fucking sorry, mon cœur. I didn’t mean to make you feel small.”

“You didn’t make me feel small,” you whispered. “You just stopped making me feel anything.”

James sobbed harder.

And then you reached for them. Shaky, slow, but open.

They came at once. A tangle of limbs and apologies and muffled cries into hospital sheets.

Remus’s forehead pressed to yours. James held your hand like it anchored him to the earth. Sirius whispered every endearment he knew, over and over again, until your breathing slowed.

“I’m not okay,” you said.

“We’re not either,” James replied.

“But we’ll be,” Remus promised.

And in that tiny, broken moment, surrounded by your boys and your wounds and your silence, you believed him. Just a little.

#poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders x reader fluff #james potter angst #remus lupin angst #remus lupin x reader #sirius black angst #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #james potter x reader #marauders fanfic #marauders x reader #marauders

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ravenclaw-for-all-seasons · 2 months ago

Text

His Soft Spot - Mattheo Riddle (7)

A/N: Based on a request by @doves1120 after my previous post 🥰

Theo and Enzo were walking on either side of you as you made your way toward the courtyard, where Mattheo was supposed to be waiting after his last class. The two of them were in the middle of some ridiculous argument about Quidditch—Theo swearing that the Montrose Magpies were superior while Enzo adamantly refused to accept anything but Puddlemere United—when Enzo suddenly grabbed your arm.

"Uh, Y/N," he said, his voice laced with caution.

Theo followed Enzo’s line of sight and let out a low whistle. "Ohhh, shit."

You frowned before turning your head—and the moment you did, your blood boiled.

Some girl was standing way too close to Mattheo.

She was twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, tilting her head up at him with a sickeningly sweet smile. You could practically hear her giggle from where you stood.

Mattheo, for his part, looked unimpressed—his arms crossed, his jaw tight, his entire posture screaming disinterest. But that didn’t stop the girl.

She actually had the audacity to place a hand on his arm, leaning in as she spoke.

Your vision flashed.

Enzo took one look at your face and muttered, "Oh, this is gonna be good."

Theo smirked. "Mate, I think we’re about to witness an actual murder."

You didn’t respond. You were already walking.

No—stalking.

Every step was controlled, lethal, your expression unreadable. But the fire in your eyes burned bright enough to terrify.

The girl was still talking when you reached them.

"I just think we’d get along so well, Mattheo," she purred, batting her lashes. "You do spend so much time with Y/N, but don’t you think you should keep your options open?"

Mattheo barely had time to react before you were right there, stepping between them in a way that was almost too calm.

The girl blinked in surprise. "Oh, Y/N! Hi, I was just—"

"You were just leaving," you said smoothly, your voice even—but dripping with something dangerous.

Her confidence wavered. "I was just talking to Mattheo—"

"See, that’s the problem," you cut in, tilting your head. "You were talking to my boyfriend."

She let out a nervous laugh. "Well, I didn’t mean anything by it—"

"Didn’t you?" You took a slow step forward, forcing her to step back. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like you were trying to put your hands on something that doesn’t belong to you."

Mattheo let out a low hum of approval from behind you, but he didn’t interrupt. This was your moment.

The girl swallowed hard. "I-I didn’t know you’d be so possessive—"

Your eyes flashed. "No, see, possessive would be hexing you into next week just for breathing in his direction. What I am is someone who doesn’t tolerate disrespect. And you?" You leaned in slightly, dropping your voice to something only she could hear. "You just disrespected me."

The girl stiffened, clearly realizing she was in danger.

Behind you, Theo muttered, "Bloody hell."

Enzo let out a low whistle. "This is terrifying."

Mattheo, however, was smirking like he was enjoying every second of it.

You didn’t move, didn’t blink. You just stared at her.

The girl shifted uncomfortably, her confidence completely shattered. "I—um—I should go," she stammered, voice high and shaky.

You smiled—a dangerous, deadly smile. "Yes," you said sweetly. "You should."

And just like that, she turned on her heel and practically ran away.

There was a heavy silence.

Then—

"Okay, what the fuck," Theo breathed, looking at you like you’d just killed someone.

Enzo chuckled, shaking his head. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Mattheo, on the other hand, was still watching you, eyes dark and absolutely feral.

You turned to face him, raising a brow. "Something you wanna say?"

Mattheo exhaled sharply, his jaw tight. "Yeah," he said, his voice low and husky. "That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen."

Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him. His hands were rough as they slid down to your waist, his lips already at your ear.

"Merlin, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "You really expect me to not throw you against the nearest wall after that?"

Your breath hitched, but you smirked up at him. "I told you before, Mattheo," you whispered, tilting your chin up. "No one comes between us."

He groaned under his breath, fingers digging into your hips. "I swear to god, if we weren’t in the middle of the bloody courtyard—"

"Okay, enough," Theo groaned, looking thoroughly done. "I’m gonna be sick."

Enzo snorted. "I mean, I knew Y/N was scary, but watching her go full Riddle mode? That was a new level."

Mattheo smirked, keeping you firmly against him. "Told you," he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. "She’s the only one scarier than me."

Theo shook his head. "Yeah, yeah, we get it. You’re both terrifying and disgustingly obsessed with each other. Please, spare the rest of us."

You just grinned, resting a hand on Mattheo’s chest. "Not my fault you can’t handle it, Theo."

Mattheo chuckled, dropping his head to press a lingering kiss to your jaw. "Mmm, that’s my girl."

And as Theo gagged dramatically and Enzo shook his head with a knowing smirk, Mattheo just smirked against your skin.

Because as far as he was concerned—anyone who did try to come between you?

Well.

They’d be lucky if they only had to deal with him.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #hp fandom #hp fanfic #theodore nott #lorenzo berkshire #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo fluff #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

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starsenha · 5 months ago

Text

FIRST IMPRESSIONS / N.R smau

PAIRING: idol!riki x idol!reader

SUMMARY: riki was a big fan of your group Devilish, but when he met you for the first time, he made a very bad first impressions and now you hated him. rumors started to spark saying how you hated each other and in order to calm the rumors, the company decided to make you two hosts a variety show together for two months.

GENRE: smau + written parts (lots of them, im sorry), one sided ennemies to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, crack, some smut in a few chapters, veeeeery suggestive

CHARACTERS: enhypen, xg's maya as a faceclaim for yn, lesserafim's kazuha, kiss of life's belle, new jeans' danielle, lee youngji, p1harmony's intake, soul and jongseob.

WARNINGS: (a lot) of cursing, bad attempt at humour lmao, sexual jokes and suggestive af, talk about cyberbullying and mean comments, smut in some chapters (minors dni)

TAGLIST: @pkjay @d-dilemma @heartheejake @lunaritex @dreeki @inishij @rikirritated @whoiss4m @sleepyxxhead @aanniikkaa @right-person-wrong-time @aespaqq @starry-eyed-bimbo @nerdywitchcrown @yuniesluv @lovestruck-sky @ariluvssssss100 @rei4sunoo @wildtigerlili @jakef3ver @seungminsapuppy @kittsnewera @regalfox @rairaiblog @pairinn (closed)

UPDATE: every monday, thursday, and saturday

a/n: since you guys voted for this one first, there you go! and this is so fun to write omg 😭

profile [one] [two] [three]

[prologue] free drama

[1] hate this job

[2] i'm sure she's okay (written, 933)

[3] fire in your eyes

[4] no more glaring (written, 1,3k)

[5] quality content

[6] feeding his delusions

[7] first episode (written, 1,6k)

[8] wild concept

[9] stop giggling

[10] progress (written, 1,3k)

[11] victory

[12] just choreo (written, 2k)

[13] oh yeah, she's a problem

[14] i'll talk to the ceo

[15] interesting

[16] care to test that theory (written, 5,7k) SMUT IN THIS CHAP

[17] problem

[18] i'm screwed

[19] ew not a man in our dorm

[20] our baby

[21] terrible timing (written, 1,7k)

more coming soon...

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everrinsly · 2 days ago

Text

life with rin vibes.

the utter objectification of rin's biceps.

biceps with rin. fluff. slight nsfw. very suggestive. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more reads!

~~~~~

Your first mistake was attempting to keep Rin company while he exercised—

"You wanna watch me, baby?"

He kissed your forehead softly before moving around the basement, collecting the scattered dumbbells from his sets the day before.

"Y-Yeah, I-I can keep you company," you stuttered, cheeks warm. Because even though you've been together for two years, he never failed to make your heart flutter.

He hummed. "You might get bored. You wanna watch something?" he asked, glancing back at the TV mounted on the wall.

"Mm... it's okay, Rin, I'll be fine—"

(Such lies).

—so now, you were here. On the floor, your back against the foot of the couch.

You should’ve looked away.

You really, really should’ve.

But the sight of Rin working out made you crumble—sweat glistening down his neck, sleeves shoved up over his shoulders, and those arms (let me repeat, those arms) were on full display as he curled the dumbbells like they were nothing.

Thick, veined, flexing with every movement.

You eyed him through your lashes, pretending to scroll through your phone, cheeks red, thighs pressed together like that might help the intrusive thoughts crawling through your mind.

(It didn't).

You bit your lip. The taste of your strawberry chapstick graced your tongue.

Rin didn’t speak. He rarely did during workouts. But you knew he was aware of you. The smug, silent... dangerous... kind of aware, like he could feel you watching him, soaking in every contraction of his biceps like you were starving.

And god—you tried not to imagine what it would feel like to sit on them. To grind on them. To ride—

(You failed. Miserably).

Your face burned hotter, red as a beet.

“Something wrong, baby?” he asked, finally. Casual, like he didn’t already know exactly what kind of nasty filth you were thinking.

You looked up quickly, snapped out of your trance but the feeling of heat in your core still lingering. “N-No.”

His eyebrow lifted, teal eyes scanning from your eyes to your bitten lips. “You sure?”

You nodded. "Mmhmm."

He didn't believe you.

He set the dumbbell down with a soft thud, stretching one arm behind his head—his bicep flexed, bulging, perfect. And fuck, you looked again. You couldn’t not (like it'd be rude to not stare).

Rin tilted his head.

“You’ve been staring at my arms for ten minutes,” he said, voice low and deep. “You wanna say something, pretty?”

You shook your head furiously, tucking your face behind your phone again.

He smirked.

“I’ll say it for you then, yeah?”

You froze. Well... shit.

“I know you think about it,” Rin said, voice dropping to that teasing hush that made your stomach twist. “Don’t pretend you haven’t imagined what it’d be like. Sitting on them. Grinding down. Making a mess while I flex for you.”

Your phone slipped out of your hands.

God—he loved watching your cute, flushed face scrunch up, so he continued.

"You're wet. Aren't you, baby." It wasn't posed as a question. It didn't need to be. Because he knew and you knew. It was a fact.

“I—!” you gasped, utterly mortified. “I d-didn’t—I mean, I—!”

He laughed softly, rising to his feet and stepping towards you. He towered over you now. You couldn’t even look at him.

Rin crouched down, tilting your chin up with one finger, his other arm flexing just barely. Taunting. Teasing.

"You think they're the perfect size too, huh? Perfect for riding. Because my thighs are just too big, right? Too big for your tiny pussy to get off on? So you wanna rock on my biceps instead, isn't that right, pretty baby?"

Holy shit.

You short-circuited, brain stopping completely, all mushy and melting.

He leaned in closer, nose brushing yours, glazed eyes trailing down to your lips.

“Sweet little thing,” he murmured. “So shy, but you’ve got the dirtiest imagination.”

Your face was on fire.

“Maybe...” he whispered, leaning in just enough to brush his lips on yours.

You held your breath.

“I’ll let you test that theory after I finish my sets. So... be a good girl and keep watching me."

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inseobts · 21 days ago

Note

Hiii! Can i req an ace x f!reader where he looks all over for her like he did with BB not bc she's a traitor but bc she left the crew w/o letting anyone besides WB know (WB ain't snitching lol). She has her own problems in life but the ultimate reason for leaving was bc of self loathing issues under the tough mask and thought the love was unrequited after seeing ace with cuter girls, and that she didn't need another problem. It was onesided, but ace became aware of his own feelings after she left. He finds her as a strawhat but reader and zoro are alrdy a power couple... or so he thought ;D tysm i genuinely LOVE your works btw!!! <3

Embers Left Behind

portgas d. ace x reader

a/n: aaah I always love a really good angst with fluff!! thank you aw

words count: 5.9k

tags: angst, heartbreak, slow burn, emotional tension, sfw

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The Moby Dick rocks gently with the waves, but the stillness on board is anything but peaceful.

“Ace...”

Marco’s voice is low, but firm, almost warning in his tone.

Ace doesn’t stop pacing “Don’t start.”

“You’ve already asked him three times.”

“I’ll ask him thirty!” Ace snaps, spinning on his heel. His fists are clenched so tightly his nails dig into his palms “She wouldn’t just vanish like that. Not without saying anything.”

“She did.” Marco says, voice quiet but steady “That was her choice.”

Ace whirls, fire licking up his arms now “She told Pops and not us? Not even me?”

Marco looks away “Yeah. That’s what she actually did.”

Ace’s breath hitches. That admission stings more than he’ll let show.

He storms toward the upper deck, where Whitebeard sits in his massive chair, the sea breeze tugging at his long white hair like it respects him too much to tangle it.

“Old man.” Ace’s voice is tight. Controlled. Barely.

Whitebeard doesn’t turn “Still angry?”

“Still confused.” Ace steps closer “Why her? Why’d she tell you and not the rest of us?”

“She asked for a promise.” Whitebeard’s voice is steady as a mountain “And I gave it.”

Ace’s fire dims slightly “A promise to keep her location a secret?”

“To let her go. Without questions. Without trails.”

“Bullshit...” Ace mutters, hurt flashing in his voice “She didn’t even say goodbye.”

Whitebeard finally turns his gaze down to him “You think that didn’t hurt her too?”

Ace swallows hard. But he doesn’t respond.

Later, in the infirmary, Marco sits with a bottle between his legs, flipping the cap off with a lazy flick of his thumb.

“She left her favourite coat” he says.

Ace looks up, surprised “What?”

Marco nods toward the corner of the room where a familiar coat hangs limply on the wall, untouched “She probably forgot it in the rush of leaving.”

Ace stands slowly, walking over to it. He stares at it like it’s a corpse.

“She was hurting.” Marco doesn’t say it as a defense, just as the truth.

Ace turns toward him, brows drawn together “We’re family. She could’ve told us.”

“Maybe that’s exactly why she couldn’t.”

The crew feels the void she left, even in little things like someone instinctively calling her name during morning drills, or setting aside a plate during dinner out of habit. Thatch stops laughing as loudly. Vista sharpens his swords in silence.

And Ace? He doesn’t sleep. Not really.

He stares at the stars, thinking about every conversation you ever had, what he missed, what you were hiding, what he didn’t say.

The coat’s been hanging there for weeks. No one moves it. No one touches it. It just stays exactly where you left it, draped over the hook in the infirmary corner like it’s waiting for you to come back and grab it.

Ace stares at it again that morning.

Marco walks in, holding coffee, and stops when he sees him.

“You really gonna keep standing there, or you gonna wear it yourself?”

Ace shoots him a glare “It’s hers.”

Marco sips, watching him over the rim of his mug “Yeah. We know.”

He doesn’t make a scene about it. Just one quiet morning, a little after breakfast, he shows up on deck with a pack slung over his shoulder and your coat folded neatly in his arms.

Whitebeard watches from his throne, silent.

“Going somewhere, Ace?” Izo asks, already knowing.

Ace doesn’t look at anyone as he answers, “She forgot her coat.”

A few of the guys glance at each other. That’s the excuse? Seriously?

Haruta tilts her head “You’re gonna cross the Grand Line to return a coat?”

Ace shrugs “She loved this coat. Said she couldn’t live without it.”

It’s half a lie. Maybe less. But no one calls him out.

“You gonna tell Pops?” Vista asks.

Ace glances toward the upper deck. Whitebeard’s already looking at him. They lock eyes for a second. Whitebeard doesn’t nod. Doesn’t shake his head. Just… lets him go.

“Guess you don’t need to” Vista mutters with a smirk.

Marco sighs and tosses him an extra log pose “You’ll need this more than your pride.”

Ace catches it, barely looking “Appreciate it.”

“You gonna say what we all know?” Marco asks, voice level “That it’s not about the coat?”

Ace’s jaw tightens “No.”

Marco smirks faintly “Thought so.”

As Ace walks toward the edge of the ship, Thatch calls after him, voice light but sad around the edges “Tell her she still owes me a drink!”

“And that we miss her!” Haruta adds.

Ace doesn’t turn around, but he lifts a hand in acknowledgment.

“Tell her yourself when I find her...” he says.

And then, he’s gone.

Months passed and the sun’s dipping low when Ace finds the black sails of the Thousand Sunny sway gently at the harbor’s edge, golden light flickering across the lion-shaped prow like it’s grinning at him.

He hadn’t meant to stumble across them like this. He was chasing rumors, not names. But seeing that Straw Hat Jolly Roger gave him a reason to take a break.

“So you’re just crashing dinner?” Luffy grins, already halfway through a plate of meat.

“Not my fault I showed up right when Sanji was cooking” Ace says casually, plopping down on the deck’s edge.

The table’s full. Sanji’s setting down plates faster than they can be emptied. Nami’s sipping something citrusy, Robin’s got a book open next to her rice, and Usopp’s already knee-deep in some tall tale about a sea king. Brook plays a soft melody in the background.

“Man, I forgot how chaotic you all are” Ace laughs.

Franky flexes “SUPER chaotic!”

Chopper beams “I’m glad you stopped by!”

“Didn’t expect to find you guys here, honestly” Ace admits, glancing around “I was just passing through.”

Nami quirks an eyebrow “Passing through where, exactly?”

He shrugs “Everywhere.”

They don’t press. They know that kind of tone.

Luffy’s already asking about Whitebeard, and Ace answers between bites.

Then footsteps. Two sets. Light and even. The sound of a low laugh, a deeper voice beside it.

“—I’m just saying, if you let me sharpen your swords while drunk, it’s a disaster waiting to happen, you can't blame me after...” your voice rings out, smooth and easy.

“I didn’t really give you permission, stop lying.” Zoro answers, tone relaxed in a way that makes Ace’s stomach turn.

You step into the room first, head turned toward him, smiling “You did! You said that I—”

And then your eyes land on the table.

On him.

And everything stops.

Ace freezes with a piece of meat halfway to his mouth, hand still in the air.

You don’t breathe.

Neither does he.

Your gaze locked with his.

“Ace...” you whisper.

He stands up so suddenly his chair scrapes across the floor.

“You’re—” His voice cracks. He swallows “You’re here?”

Zoro’s already watching you. He sees the change in your expression, the sudden tightness in your grip, the way your breath hitches.

Sanji mutters, “Ohhh shit.”

You take a slow step forward, like you’re not sure if he’s real “What are you doing here?”

Ace doesn’t answer immediately. His eyes scanning you, your hair, clothes, the faint scar on your knuckle that wasn’t there before. You’re different. Still you. But heavier, somehow. Guarded.

He lifts something from the table.

Your old coat.

You hadn’t even noticed it until now.

“You forgot this” he says quietly.

And just like that, every wall you built inside your chest starts to splinter.

You stare at it “You came all this way for that?”

Ace’s smile is small. Not cocky. Not smug. Just… tired “Couldn’t sleep with it staring at me every day.”

The table is dead quiet now. Everyone’s eyes on the two of you.

You glance at Zoro. He’s watching Ace now. Calm. Unmoving.

Ace notices.

Something flickers in his eyes “Didn’t know you were a Straw Hat now.”

You steady your voice “I wasn't planning on staying with them at first, so I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

He hesitates “Yeah. Same.”

You don’t know what else to say. Neither does he. But damn it, the tension’s louder than the silence.

Dinner resumes... Kind of.

People try to keep it normal. Conversations start up again, tentative at first, then flowing a little easier. Luffy dives back into his mountain of food, thankfully oblivious. Usopp’s telling Brook about a “totally real” fight he had with a sea serpent, and Chopper’s wide-eyed and hanging on every word.

But at one end of the table, you sit next to Zoro, posture stiff.

Across from you, Ace is watching.

You can feel his gaze on your skin like sunburn. Every time you smile or laugh at something Zoro says. Every time Zoro nudges your shoulder casually. Every time you try to look like everything’s fine.

You’re not fooling anyone. Least of all Ace.

“Here,” Zoro says suddenly, shoving a cup toward you “You look like you need this.”

You blink “Sake already?”

He shrugs “It’s dinner. And you look like you’re about to jump overboard.”

You snort under your breath “Thanks.”

You drink. So does Ace.

And then again Sanji pours a fresh cup for him, glancing sideways “You alright there?”

Ace leans back with a grin that doesn’t touch his eyes “Peachy.”

He knocks back another drink.

You try not to look at him, but it’s like your eyes betray you every five seconds.

Zoro strangely keeps talking. Trying. He keeps you grounded when your thoughts threaten to drift into the fire sitting across the table.

But the alcohol is catching up to Ace.

His words get looser. His stare, more obvious.

“So,” he says after his third or fifth cup “How long’s that been a thing?”

Your head snaps up “What?”

Ace nods lazily toward you and Zoro “You and him. The whole… power couple thing.”

Zoro’s hand pauses around his cup “Didn’t know that was a thing.”

Ace shrugs, leaning an elbow on the table “Oh, it’s not. But I saw how you looked at her. Pretty sure I’ve seen animals less possessive.”

You set your cup down, jaw tight “Ace.”

“What?” he asks, eyes wide in mock innocence “We’re just catching up, right? Friends talk about relationships. Or is that off-limits too?”

Sanji clears his throat “Maybe you should pace yourself, Fire Fist.”

“Oh, I’m pacing,” Ace says, slouching back “Just catching up on a year of silence and disappearing acts.”

Your stomach drops.

Zoro glances at you but says nothing.

You speak slowly “This isn’t the place.”

Ace huffs a laugh “Yeah, no kidding. Because the place for it was back then, right? When you could’ve said something. Anything.”

Robin gently closes her book.

Nami’s eyes flicker between the two of you.

“I didn’t think I owed you an explanation” you snap, sharper than intended.

Ace leans forward, finally letting that bitter smile crack through “No, you didn’t. But damn, it would’ve been nice to get something other than your coat and full silence.”

Zoro moves slightly, like he’s ready to shut it down, but your face makes him understand he has to stop.

Everyone’s watching now, and you feel like you’re under a spotlight.

Ace shakes his head, laughing dryly “Hell, maybe I was the only idiot who thought it meant something.”

Your breath catches.

The words are out.

And for a moment, no one knows what to say. Not even him.

The dinner table clears awkwardly.

No one says anything outright, but it’s obvious they’re trying to give you space.

Luffy yawns exaggeratedly and says, “Wow, I’m full. So full. Gonna go sleep. Right now. So full.”

“Goodnight!” Chopper squeaks, tugging Usopp by the sleeve.

Even Sanji backs off, flicking his lighter once before disappearing into the galley.

That leaves just you, Ace and Zoro, standing up slowly, watching Ace with unreadable eyes.

“You gonna be alright?” Zoro asks, voice low.

You nod “Yeah.”

Zoro looks at you for a bit longer, then gives a short nod and walks away, leaving you with Ace’s stare burning holes in your side.

The silence stretches.

You finally break it “That was unnecessary.”

Ace doesn’t flinch “Which part? The part where you never said goodbye, or the part where you show up on a new ship with a boyfriend like none of us meant anything to you? Couldn't you just tell us you were leaving for love?”

Your jaw tightens “Zoro is my friend.”

He snorts “Could’ve fooled me.”

You look him dead in the eye “It’s not like that. It never was.”

The silence that follows is heavier than anything he said during dinner.

“…Oh.”

His voice is smaller now. Less fire, more ash.

You exhale “You seriously thought I left because of him?”

Ace’s fingers run through his hair “No. I don’t know. I thought—maybe—I don’t know, okay? You just vanished. You left without a damn word. I woke up, and you were gone. And now I found you here...”

Your breath hitches, but you stay rooted.

“I told Whitebeard to not worry you all too much” you say quietly.

“Only him...” Ace snaps, stepping closer now “Why? What was so bad you couldn’t even say goodbye to me?”

You blink fast, but your voice stays even “Because if I saw your face, I wouldn’t have been able to do it! It's not that hard to understand, Ace.”

Ace’s whole body stills.

You go on, voice low and raw “I didn’t leave because I hated the crew. Or you. I left because I hated me. I was tired of pretending I wasn’t falling apart inside. Tired of pretending I didn’t feel anything, especially around you.”

Ace doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe.

You shake your head “You didn’t need someone like me stuck in your shadow.”

“That’s not—” he starts, but you hold up a hand.

“I didn’t want to be another problem you had to solve.”

Silence again.

Then, slowly he says “You were never a problem.”

You glance up.

His eyes are different now. Not angry. Not jealous. Just… aching.

“You were a storm I wanted to chase,” he murmurs “but then you were just gone.”

Your chest tightens.

“You never said anything either” you whisper.

He laughs bitterly “Guess we both suck at this.”

Your heart pounding “So what now?”

Ace shrugs, but there’s no fire in it this time. Just quiet, open hurt “You tell me.”

Ace’s words hang in the air like smoke from a dying fire. You stare at him, heart tight and hammering. Part of you wants to move, say something, anything, but your feet won’t cooperate.

“You think I had some kind of perfect answer?” he says, voice cracking just slightly “You weren’t the only one pretending nothing hurt.”

Your brows knit “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

He steps closer.

“Because I didn’t know I could!” he bursts out “Because you always looked so strong. Always sharp. Looked like you never needed anyone, least of all me.”

You flinch. He sees it. Regrets it instantly.

“I didn’t mean—”

“No,” you cut him off, voice thick “You’re right. I made it look easy. I wore the mask. I made you all believe I was fine when I wasn’t. I guess it's normal you thought so if that was my plan to start with.”

Your eyes burn, but you keep going.

“You know what I remember, Ace? Nights on the Moby Dick where I stared at the ceiling wondering why I felt like I didn’t deserve to be there. Why I wasn’t enough. Why I could throw myself into battle for my crew and still feel like a fraud every time someone looked at me with respect.”

Ace’s breath catches “You were never a fraud.”

You laugh bitterly “I know that's a family, I love them all... but sometimes I felt like a fraud.”

The pain in your chest rises, sharp and breathless.

“But you...” your voice breaks, “you were the biggest thing I couldn’t handle. Not when I saw how easy it was for you to smile at someone else. Someone better.”

Ace’s eyes widen “Better?! What the hell are you talking about?”

You take a shaky breath “All these girls. The flirting. The way you lit up when you were with them. I saw it all. And I told myself... of course he doesn’t want you. Why would he?”

There’s silence. Only the sea, and your heart breaking against the rail of the Sunny.

Ace looks like someone just punched the air out of his lungs.

“That’s what you thought?” he whispers.

You nod, lips trembling “I left because it hurt to love you.”

The words hang there. Raw. Bleeding.

“You left,” he says slowly, “and took everything with you without even trying.”

Your throat closes.

Ace’s jaw clenches.

“I would’ve chosen you,” he says quietly “Every single time, if you gave me the chance.”

"But you can't blame me for being oblivious... You were always with some new girl, how could I even think I had a chance"

"I know. But you also knew I would have chosen you over some strangers, I wouldn't want to hurt you at all. If you gave me a change I would have put the whole world aside for you, Y/N."

You don’t know whether to cry or scream. So you laugh... a single, broken sound “And now it’s too late, right?”

“I don’t know” he says honestly “You tell me.”

His eyes are locked on yours, and he steps closer.

You don’t move away.

His hand hovers, hesitates, like he wants to touch your face, your shoulder, your hand, something, anything, but doesn’t know if he has the right anymore.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Ace…”

And then—BANG. The galley door slams open.

“Yo, have either of you seen—oh.”

Luffy. Of course it’s Luffy.

He stops in the doorway, blinking wide, oblivious to the emotional minefield he’s just barged into “Uh. Am I interrupting?”

You jerk back instinctively. Ace steps away too, fast.

“No!” you say too quickly “No, you’re good.”

Ace turns away, face unreadable now. Mask back on, smooth and practiced.

Luffy glances between you two “You guys look weird.”

Neither of you responds.

He scratches the back of his head “Anyway, Robin and Nami are looking for you,” he tells you. “Something about maps and weird island currents.”

You nod, voice tight “Got it. I’ll be right there.”

Luffy eyes Ace for another second, then shrugs and leaves just as fast as he came, door clicking shut behind him.

Silence falls again but it’s different now. The moment is shattered, scattered like glass.

Ace doesn’t look at you.

You speak first, voice barely above a whisper “Ace…”

He cuts you off gently “You should go.”

You flinch “We weren’t done.”

“I think we were.”

You step toward him, but he doesn’t move.

He doesn’t let himself.

“I meant what I said” you tell him “About everything.”

His voice is quiet “Yeah. That’s the problem.”

And then he walks away. Leaving you standing in the dark, alone with the weight of all the things that almost happened.

You make it to the girls’ quarters, swallow hard and enter the room.

You close the door and put your body agaist it as if you're trying to let all the problems stay out.

Nami stands there, brows lifting when she sees your face “Hey, we were just—”

But then she looks closer and her casual smile drops right off her face.

“…You okay?”

Your throat locks up.

Behind her, Robin looks up from the maps she’s laying out, calm as ever but watching you with those eyes that always seem to see what you don’t want them to.

You try to say something. Anything.

You don’t.

You sit down instead. Hard. Right on the edge of Nami’s bed like your legs stopped working.

Nami follows instantly, crouching in front of you “What happened?”

You shake your head, blinking fast, jaw clenched.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you whisper, voice barely there “I don’t know how to fix this.”

And then it breaks as you cover your face with your hands.

The tears hit before you can stop them. Hot, shaking, ugly sobs that you’ve held down for too long. Too many months of silence, too much guilt, too much everything.

You’re not even crying quietly. You break.

“I left because I thought it was the right thing!” you gasp “I thought he didn’t feel anything and I couldn’t take it anymore. And now he’s here and he does and it’s just—it’s too late and I ruined it.”

Nami wraps her arms around you instantly, holding tight.

Robin doesn’t say anything at first. She just sits beside you, brushing your hair back from your wet face with a gentle hand.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Nami whispers “You were hurting. That’s not the same as ruining.”

You shake your head against her shoulder “He hates me.”

“He doesn’t...” Robin says simply.

You choke on a bitter laugh “He walked away.”

“Because he’s hurt too,” Robin adds “But that doesn’t mean it’s over.”

You wipe your face with your sleeve, trembling “I feel like I’ve been bleeding since the day I left.”

Robin’s voice is soft, but steady “Then maybe it’s time to stop bleeding. Start talking.”

Nami looks down at you, eyes gentle “Do you want to fix it?”

You nod. Miserably. Broken.

“Then we’ll help you,” she says “You don’t have to do it alone.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believe it.

The next morning, no one says anything out loud but it’s clear something has shifted.

You don’t talk about the breakdown you had the night before. You don’t talk about the ache in your throat or the way sleep never really came. You just sit at breakfast and try to act normal.

Except Robin keeps watching you. Nami keeps nudging your elbow like it’s nothing, but her smile is just a little too knowing.

Zoro doesn’t say a word but when Ace walks in and his eyes meet yours across the room and then quickly slide away Zoro exhales through his nose and mutters, “This is stupid.”

Nami catches that.

Her eyes flick to Robin, who arches a brow.

Time to get to work.

“Ace,” Nami says casually, catching him after breakfast, “Luffy’s going to be real mad if you leave before sparring with him again.”

Ace pauses “We already did yesterday. I'm here just to take some food.”

“Yeah, but now he wants a rematch. Says you cheated.”

“I didn’t cheat.”

“He’s Luffy,” Nami shrugs “He doesn’t care.”

Ace gives her a side glance “Why are you so invested?”

She smiles, all teeth “Me? Not at all.”

Later, Robin finds you on the deck alone, staring at the waves. You haven’t seen Ace since breakfast.

“He hasn’t left yet” she says gently.

You don’t look at her “I know.”

Robin glances out at the horizon “You’re not the only one afraid, you know.”

You grip the railing tighter “Then why does it feel like I am?”

Robin’s voice is soft “Because you’re not used to being vulnerable. But strength isn’t always about standing tall.”

You finally glance at her “You’re not really here to talk about fear.”

She smiles “No. I’m here to remind you that there’s still time.”

Meanwhile, Zoro corners Ace on the training deck. No swords, just crossed arms and that usual scowl.

“You leaving?” he asks.

Ace shrugs “Probably.”

Zoro raises a brow “You couldn't care less about that coat, did you?”

Ace laughs once “No.”

Zoro nods “Figured.”

“She cried last night.”

Ace’s shoulders freeze.

Zoro keeps his voice even “Not for attention. Not for drama. She broke. I heard her from the girls’ room”

Ace turns his head, jaw tense “…She okay?”

“No,” Zoro says honestly “And neither are you.”

He starts to walk away, but pauses.

“You don’t get many second chances,” he says over his shoulder “Don’t be a dumbass.”

Later that day, Luffy walks up to Ace and beams.

“Hey! Are you and Y/N in love?”

Ace nearly chokes on air “What?!”

Luffy tilts his head “You’re mad. She’s sad. You love each other, right? Just fix it already.”

Ace blinks at him, stunned.

“…You know, for a rubber guy, you’re terrifyingly blunt.”

Luffy grins “Thanks!”

By sunset, you’re back at the rail again. Same spot. Same ache.

Footsteps approach and you already know it’s him.

Ace stops a few feet away.

“You’re avoiding me” he says quietly.

“I’m trying to give you space.”

He exhales “I think we’ve had enough space to destroy a fleet.”

You swallow, heart pounding.

He steps closer.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

Your eyes meet his and nod.

The sky bleeds orange and gold as the sun dips low behind the sea.

Ace steps up beside you, quiet and calm. No tension in his shoulders.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

You turn slowly to look at him.

“I figured” you whisper.

Ace nods “I came for a coat. Didn’t expect to get set on fire instead.”

You almost smile. Almost.

He looks out over the ocean “Whitebeard misses you. So does Marco. Thatch tried to make your favorite meal last week but burned it like an idiot.”

You swallow hard.

“They never said it but I know they all knew why you left” he says “I was the only one not understanding…”

He doesn’t look at you yet.

He goes on “I’ll say you found your place. That you’re with Luffy’s crew now. That you’re surrounded by people who care about you. That you’re safe. I know my little brother will take good care of you. Even that green moody head seems to care about you.”

His voice softens “And I’ll tell them you’re happy.”

You feel something twist in your chest.

“And what about you?” you ask.

Ace is quiet.

“For a long time,” he says, “I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. Flirting, smiling, messing around… it was easy. It was nothing. Because the real thing scared me.”

You finally look at him.

He’s already watching you.

“I told myself I didn’t care,” he says “That the way I looked at you didn’t mean anything. That it was fine if you didn’t look back.”

He laughs bitterly “But I did care. I cared so damn much it felt like it was choking me.”

Your breath catches.

“Feeling things terrified me”

Silence.

Then he finally says it, soft and aching “I was in love with you. Still am.”

The air rushes out of your lungs.

Ace looks away.

“But I’m not asking you for anything. Not now. Not after all this. I just… I couldn’t leave without saying it. I couldn’t let you think it didn’t matter. That you didn’t matter. It will hurt to go back without you but I meant it before, I'll be happy to know you found another family here, with Luffy out of all people.”

You stare at him, heart pounding.

“You still love me?” you whisper “I thought it was too late...”

“It probably is,” he says with a small smile “But at least you’ll know.”

He turns to leave but your hand shoots out and you grab his sleeve.

“…Stay one more day,” you say, voice shaking “Please.”

Ace freezes.

Slowly, he turns back to you and for the first time in forever there’s hope in his eyes.

Neither of you say much since you asked him to stay.

But the silence is comfortable now. Familiar. Safe.

Ace glances sideways, his voice low “You sure about this?”

You nod, just once.

“Yeah.”

His fingers twitch beside yours, like he wants to reach for you again but he waits.

“I don’t mean just staying,” he murmurs “I mean… this. Us. Me.”

You take a breath, and your hand moves to cover his.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t sure.”

He lets out a breath, almost like relief.

You both look out at the sea a while longer before you speak again.

“I missed you every day.”

Ace turns to you.

Your voice trembles, but you don’t look away.

“I thought about you every time I smiled. Every time something good happened. You were just… there in my mind, like you never left.”

His hand turns under yours, fingers lacing gently through yours.

“I hated you for leaving” he whispers.

You blink but he’s not angry. His voice is soft. Wounded.

“I hated you,” he says, “because you didn’t give me the chance to try stop you. But also because I was scared and stupid and thought I had time to figure it out.”

You’re quiet for a long moment.

Then you shift closer, just slightly, knees brushing. His hand stays in yours.

“You still have time.”

He looks at you then. Like you’re the first sunrise after a shipwreck.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your heart stutters.

You nod “Yes.”

And he does. It’s not desperate. Not rushed. Just real.

His lips are warm and trembling against yours. One hand moves to cradle your cheek, thumb brushing soft. You kiss him back, slow and full of everything you never got to say.

When he pulls away, his forehead rests gently against yours.

You rise slowly, fingers never leaving his, and lead him back into your room, silent, sure.

The night is tender. You lie beside each other in the dark, hearts bare and hands exploring familiar skin like it’s new.

When he presses kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your temple, you know it’s not just affection. It’s an apology. A thank you. A promise.

When he asks softly, “Is this okay?” you say “Yes” like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And when you make love, it’s not about what you lost. It’s about what you finally found again.

No masks. No fear.

Just warmth.

Just you and him.

Just home.

You wake up warm.

Ace’s arm is draped across your waist, his breath steady at your back. His fingers twitch every so often, like he’s dreaming something wild. Or maybe something peaceful, for once.

You don’t want to move but you do, because you have to, because you both knew last night didn’t mean nothing��s changed, it meant everything has.

The galley is loud by the time you walk in.

The crew’s halfway through breakfast, everyone arguing over eggs and toast like nothing happened, like your world didn’t shift overnight.

Ace walks in behind you a second later, and the room stills for a heartbeat.

Then “YOU’RE FIRED!”

Luffy slams his hands on the table and points directly at you, grinning wide.

You blink “What?”

“You heard me!” he says “You slept with my brother! And on my ship! That’s illegal!”

You blush embarassed that even your oblivious Captain knew what happened.

Robin lifts her teacup “There’s no such law.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Luffy declares “I’m the captain. I make the rules here. Y/N, you’re fired.”

You open your mouth, then stop.

Because behind the ridiculous accusation, behind the over-the-top delivery you see the way his voice softens just slightly, the way his eyes look proud, not mad.

The way Nami nudges you, it’s okay.

This is Luffy's way of letting you go. He doesn’t want you to feel like you’re abandoning them.

So he turns it into a joke. A ridiculous, loud, Luffy's joke.

You laugh. You can’t help it.

Tears prick your eyes anyway.

Even Sanji tries his best to play it cool, almost looking proud, of you? Or of his Captain for understanding.

Usopp tries to cover Chopper's ears so that he doesn't hear about these adults' things.

Zoro doesn’t say much. Just leans back, arms folded, watching you with that unreadable gaze of his. But when you meet his eyes he nods. Just once.

He gets it. Even if it hurts a little more than he shows.

After breakfast, you start to pack. You barely get two things in your bag before someone knocks on your door.

Zoro.

He leans in the doorway, arms crossed, swords resting against his hip.

“Guess it’s real, huh?” he says quietly.

You nod.

“…Yeah.”

He doesn’t move for a second. Then he steps forward and gives something to you.

It’s your old Whitebeard crew headband you used to have on your arm, it's tattered and sun-bleached, but whole.

“Found it in the storage room last week,” he says “Thought you might want it back now.”

Your throat tightens “Thank you.”

Zoro shrugs “You were always part of another crew before this one. Doesn’t mean we didn’t like having you.”

“I’ll miss you” you whisper.

He smiles soft, sad “Don’t get all sentimental now. I won’t cry.”

You laugh through your tears and hugs him without giving him time to protest.

Zoro stays still for a while, his arm instinctively around your shoulders but he steps back before he could let him touch you.

“Go on, then,” he says “He’s waiting.”

You find Ace on the deck, bag slung over his shoulder, waiting at the edge of the ship like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind.

You take his hand and when you look back, the whole crew is there. Waving. Smiling. Luffy cheering like an idiot.

Little you know as soon as you’re out of sight Luffy, Nami, Chopper, Usopp amd Sanji all start to cry and act whining about how much they already miss you.

Your heart aches but it also feels full. Because you’re not losing a family. You’re just returning to another one, with love in your wake.

The Moby Dick is quiet when the small boat approaches. Too quiet.

Ace shifts nervously beside you, one hand still loosely holding yours, he hasn’t let go once since you left the Strawhats. You’re both sun-warmed, tired, hearts still tender. But you feel lighter now. Whole.

The closer you get, the more you can make out familiar silhouettes on deck. Marco, Thatch, Izo, even Whitebeard himself arms crossed, massive grin already tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Ace glances at you “Ready?”

You squeeze his hand “You better not let go the second we dock.”

He grins, all teeth and dimples “Not a chance.”

⸻

The second your boots hit the deck, it’s chaos.

“YOU BROUGHT HER BACK?!” Thatch yells, practically jumping over the railing to tackle you in a hug.

Marco stares at you, blinking slowly “I thought you were mad at all of us.”

You raise a brow “I wasn’t mad.”

Then his eyes flick to your joined hands.

Then back to your faces.

“…Wait.”

Izo’s eyes narrow “Wait.”

There’s a pause.

And then everyone starts yelling at once.

“What the hell—since when?!”

“Hold on, you two are—are—what is this?”

“Are you in love now?!”

“Thatch owes me 500 berries!!”

You laugh joyfully, and Ace wraps his arm around your waist like he’s proud to show you off. Because he is.

Whitebeard’s booming laughter cuts through it all “So the brat really did bring you back. And you didn’t punch him?”

“Not yet,” you tease “But the day’s still young.”

Ace leans into you, soft and smug “I’m pretty sure she loves me too much to punch me.”

You elbow him.

“I repeat” you deadpan “The day is still young.”

Everyone groans.

Marco squints suspiciously “No, seriously. You? Soft? Since when?”

Ace, without a hint of shame “Since forever. I was just emotionally constipated.”

“Understatement of the century” mutters Izo.

Thatch’s voice cuts in, cackling “Do I get to be best man at the wedding or what?!”

You choke. Ace doesn’t even deny it, just raises his brows like, maybe.

You cover your face “I hate it here.”

Ace pulls your hand away gently and kisses your cheek in front of everyone.

“Liar” he murmurs, voice low and warm.

You glance up at him and yeah.

Okay.

You really, really don’t.

360 notes · View notes

undreaming-fanfiction · 7 months ago

Text

Day 2: Woods + Day 23: Witch for @steddie-spooktober

"Did you come to burn the witch?"

Steve just blinked at the weird man. He was probably a bit taller than him, with wild curls of hair and a mischievous smile. "Why should I?" he quipped back. "It's fucking hot, I came to the woods to cool down. The last thing I want is to get even warmer. Fire's warm."

The man just snorted. "Oh, I got a smart one today. Good for me." He hopped down from the tree he was sitting in and landed in front of Steve. "Such a pretty one too. They never send someone pretty to burn me."

"Once again, I'm not here to burn you."

The witch clutched his chest. "Ouch. And here I thought we had a spark."

Steve didn't dignify that with a response.

And the witch didn't let that deter him. "You know, a spark? As in...a spark that would start a fire? With, I don't know, a nice stake in the middle?"

Steve groaned and rubbed his temples. "If I agree to burn you, will you let me sweat in peace? I hear a spring nearby and I really need to cool down before I pass out from the heat."

The man shook his head. "You people. You cut down the trees for your villages and then wonder why you get a sunstroke." He glanced at Steve's red face, his sweaty hair, and for a second longer, his damp shirt. "Well, I'm a mean, evil witch, but I'm not that cruel. The spring's this way, come with me."

It only took a while for Steve to take of his shoes and dip his feet into the nearby spring, groaning in relief. The witch was crouched next to him, studying his face. "So really. How did you get here? I thought I was a cautionary tale for all the good children in the village, so they never let you go this way unless you need something."

Steve muttered something unintelligible.

"Huh? What's that?"

"...got lost."

The witch's face broke out in a wide grin. "Did you now? Such a big boy, not seeing the warning signs on the trees?"

Steve just grunted and leaned down to splash his face with water, then drink some. "I don't know, man. Must have been the heat. I was working in a field and fell asleep. Stupid, I know. When I woke up, I was so dizzy I thought it was a great idea to go to the woods. I could barely remember my name - that's Steve, by the way, if you need it for a hex or something. I was walking around for what seemed like ages. Then you asked me to burn you. And here I am."

"And here you are," repeated the witch. "Well, you obviously don't have any matches on you, so we're cool, I guess. Name's Eddie, although I rarely use it."

"Because you're a big bad witch?" snorted Steve.

Eddie shrugged. "Well, yeah. Because when others talk about me, they don't think I'm a person. I'm a boogeyman to them. Someone who kills their crops, trades remedies for firstborn children for dinner...the usual stuff."

"Do they taste good?"

That gave Eddie a pause. "What does?"

"The firstborn children."

Eddie stared at Steve. Steve stared back. Then they both burst into laughter at the same time. "Suppose I should invite you for dinner so you can answer that?" said Eddie after they had finally quieted down.

Steve smiled at him, and Eddie could swear he winked at him. "Suppose you should."

...

Steve stayed for dinner - no children were served, but lots of vegetables and delicious herbs - and Eddie made sure he was fully okay before letting him go. "Sunstroke's no joke, Steve, no sleeping in the field or I'll curse you! Stop giggling, I'll do it! I'll send my cat to eat your ears or something!"

With Steve's footsteps sounding more and more distant, Eddie's cottage grew quiet again. For the fist time in years, he hated it.

The quiet lasted until the next evening, when there was a knock on his door, and behind it, Steve. He was carrying some grapes and apples, a fresh loaf of bread, and it seemed he'd even combed his hair and wore a clean shirt.

Eddie just stared at him. "You got lost again?" he asked incredulously. Because no one came back to him. Not unless they needed something.

Steve just shushed him and headed directly to the table, setting the plates as if it had been his home too. "You know what's great about all the warning signs on the trees? They will always lead me back to you."

Eddie's face was starting to hurt from all the smiling. "So you can burn me?" he asked with a snort, well, maybe a tiny sob too.

"Burning you would be a shame," said Steve as he lit a small candle on the table, "since I have much better ideas how to spend our evening."

Eddie popped a grape in his mouth. "Funny," he mumbled around it, "so do I."

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie au #steddie spooktober #witch eddie #villager Steve

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gpcwsl · 5 months ago

Note

Could you please Wirte Alessia Russo x reader where the Team is playing Truth or Dare or something

And Reader must kiss any Teammate idk and Alessia gets Really jealous (they are not in Relationship)

Warnings: sorry for changing it up, already did a spin the bottle fan fiction for Caitlin so I wanted to do something different. Not read through properly, kissing, making out.

Alessia Russo x Reader: stop staring.

My MasterList

When Leah fulled on BEGGED you to join the team’s night-in at her house you gave in. Leah and your friendship is like a circle that never ends. Your always honest to each other: if one of you doesn’t like the girl (or guy) the other brings home or dating you or Leah will fully tell the other. And, then the other will break it off. Laughter: both will laugh at anything the other says. Sometimes it will stick, and be an inside joke between the two of you. Which sometimes annoy the others but you two don’t give a shit. Your eachother’s bricks, supporting the building so it doesn’t fall.

You didn’t want to be here. You wanted to be at your cozy, warm, not-so-chaotic, well tidied house. But, here you are. After some begging from Leah you are sat in her living room. Few others have left, need in to go somewhere or they are just tried. You wanted to join them and leave but Leah held you hostage the whole time. Leah, you, Alessia, Katie, Caitlin, Lia, Kyra and Beth are the last ones. All in the living room. In different conversations. Caitlin and Katie, of course close together giggling and chattering away on the opposite couch you and Leah were sat on.

You and Leah were in a deep conversation. Well, for you two it was. It was more of an disagreement you could say. Both of you were fighting over who F•R•I•E•N•D•S character is better. Obviously, people have opinions. But, either of you are letting this go. (If you don’t watch/like friends, you can imagine a different show/movie.) Leah’s favourite is Rachel. Describing how much of a power house she is. Also sneaking in the conversation that her and Ross were on a break, but Ross was in the wrong for sleeping with someone only a mere hours after. (Yep, that’s my opinion.) But for you, it was Chandler. His jokes, sarcasm and his sweet words that made Monica fall more in love with him.

During this debate, unknown to everyone (but Kyra who had this knowing look on her face) was Alessia staring at the two of you. An unusual expression. When I say unusual I mean, Alessia would never in a day have this sort of expression. A sour, wanting to kill someone kind of expression. Alessia eyes were cold and black. Cold like the water the titanic sunk in and, black like coal, you get to increase the fire that was burning inside of her right now. She only broke out the soul-staring when Kyra (who knew why the girl had this look at her) smiling cheekily at her nudges her shoulder.

“Stop staring, or you’ll actually kill her.” Kyra whispered to her, looking around to see if anyone else was in heard of this conversation but no see everyone in they own tiny world.

Alessia, still with the cold expression but her eyes turn back to blue. “Good.” Alessia mumbled, grumpily falling back into the beanbag, that was next to the television. “They say they are ‘just friends’ but look at them! Leah is all over her, first of all. And then, Y/n she’s…” - Kyra cuts her off with a smirk. “Beautiful.”

“Shut up.” Alessia mumbled, rolling her eyes as she shoves Kyra a little. “But, yeah she is. She’s gorgeous, her voice is so smooth, her hair is so soft and her hands-“

“Okay, shut up!” Kyra exclaimed, gaining eyes from everyone, mainly you. Alessia immediately smacks her shoulder, turning red. Beth, being the nosy friend she is asks - “shut up about what?”

Alessia silently begs Kyra not to say anything. Though, Kyra isn’t gonna tell the girls who she’s blushing over but, she is gonna tease Alessia. She turns her head to look at Alessia, smirking. Alessia shakes her head. “Kyra, no.” Alessia whispers.

“Alessia has got a crush!” Kyra blurts out, earning different types of reactions. Alessia groaning, everyone else teasing her but Y/n. She’s quiet, only for a few moments though before speaking.

“So, how long you been feeling this way about this person.” You ask, looking at her. Alessia’s head shoots to you, staring fora couple of seconds before clearing her throat. “Umm… around three months.”

You nod your head, looking down before standing up. “Need to use the restroom.” Without saying a word you speed-walk away from the group, looking at your figure in a mix our worry about the sudden change. Especially Leah. Who you were just laughing and giggling with.

Leah was about to get up and follow you but a voice stops her. “No, sit down. Let Alessia go.” Kyra says, shaking her head at Leah which makes her look at Alessia who was looking at Kyra.

“What?” Leah says, still looking at Alessia. “Why should Alessia go-“

“Leah, just - leave it for Alessia. This one at least.” Kyra exclaimed, before standing up wanting to pull Alessia up. Turning to her. “Talk to her, tell her”.

“Kyra, I can’t-“ - “you can, i know you can.”

Alessia takes a breath in, before nodding; standing up taking a step forward to speak to Leah just for a few seconds. “I’ve got this one. I need to tell her something.” Without a word she walks to the downstairs bathroom.

Alessia softly knocks on the door. Hearing a few shuffles before a door opening. Alessia heart beats faster. As the door swung open the space between the two is so close. You couldn’t fit a cat’s head in.

“Alessia.” You breathe out. Not expecting the forward to be standing right in front of you. “You need to use the restroom?”

Alessia shakes her head, her eyes never leaving yours, enchanted. “No, no I need to speak with you.”

You burrow your eyebrows, but slowly nods her head. “Yeah, sure. You wanna head up to Leah’s bedroom? More comfortable.”

Alessia breathes in but nods, her cheeks turning a shake of pink. “Yeah, that’s good.”

The two of you, in quiet walk up the stairs. Both h of your kinda sneaking past the others, but didn’t see either of you. Reaching the bedroom, softly opening the door. Alessia walking in first, followed by you. Shutting the door gently, before looking at Alessia.

“Okay, what’s up?” You ask, leaning your back against the door, looking at the blonde. Alessia takes in the way your body is leaning.

“Right. Look, this might ruin our friendship, but I’ve been feeling this for a few months now. You know the girl I like?” Alessia asks, cautiously moving forward, more to you.

You tense as she brings up the crush. Pulling back the urge to roll your eyes, you nod your head instead. “Yep, what about her.” Your voice tone not coming out like you wanted. Taking Alessia slightly back, not questioning it.

“It’s you. You’re the girl.” Alessia mumbles, not looking at her preparing for rejection.

You stunned. Looking at her, trying to see if she’s joking or actually telling the truth. But, by the reaction she’s having. Not looking at you. You know she is.

Smiling a little, before moving closer to her. Alessia looks up as she sees a shadow in front of her. Her breath drops as she sees how close you are to her. Looking into her eyes, still smiling. “I have feelings for you too.”

Alessia looks shocked, like she’s seen a ghost. “But, you and Leah seemed so close and-“

You burst out laughing. “Me and Leah. Oh, over my dead body.” When you stop laughing you can see how Alessia shoulders aren’t as tense, she’s actually smiling at you.

“So.. I can take you out? On a date?” Alessia asks, her cheeks now going an a bright red. You smile, nodding your head. “Yeah, definitely.”

Alessia shuffles on her spot. Her eyes still at you. Trying to boost herself up. Something clearly on her mind. She finally speaks up. “Can I- can I kiss you?”

If it’s possible your smile brightens. Nodding your head. You breathe an “yeah” out. Alessia moves forward, looking in the eyes for any indication that you don’t want this but, sees none. Bringing an hand up to cup your cheeks, slowly leaning in; soflty connecting her lips onto yours. Yours hand immediately finding her waist. You’re the one who deepens the kiss. Kissing Alessia more harder.

The air in the room shifts, well for Alessia it does. As she pushes you back. Till your back meets the door. Groaning against her lips as you feel the impact. Alessia quickly moves back, worried if she hurt you. “Shit - sorry I didn’t mean to. Are you okay?”

“Less. It’s okay, you didn’t hurt me. Quite the opposite actually.” You say, smirking a little before connecting your lips together again. Your hand reaches behind yours to lock the door. Before pushing Alessia forwards, till her legs hit the edge of the bed.

“Is this okay?” You mumble against her lips as you softly place her on the bed, you hovering over her. Alessia nods, immediately wanting your lips back on hers.

Meanwhile downstairs, Kyra having a knowing smirk on her face. But also making sure no one, especially Leah wound get up and ruin it for them.

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #leah williamson #woso community #arsenal #woso fanfics #kyra cooney cross

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lovelytsunoda · 24 days ago

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the residence | yuki tsunoda

summary: after the murder of a foreign secretary on australian soil, yuki tsunoda, who attended the very same party, must own up to a rather compromising alibi

pairing: foreign dignitary!yuki x pastry chef! reader

warnings: smut 18+ they start making out in the kitchen but then move to an insanely fancy room because this party is in some fuckass vintage hotel. somebody does d*e, but he's barely mentioned. takes 'compliments to the chef' to a new meaning, anal fingering, mirrors on the hotel ceiling, unprotected sex

"mr. tsunoda, why are you wearing a dead man's shirt?"

all eyes were on yuki, and he didn't like it. his hands went clammy, and the back of his neck began to sweat. "what are you talking about?" he asked "this is my shirt."

members of the japanese foreign ministry were gathered in the hotel's ornate sitting room, a ghostly rennasaince portrait staring down at him from over the fireplace while he tried to come up with a non incriminating answer.

"i mean that shirt is far too large for a man of your size." the detective crossed her arms over her chest, staring straight at him. "mr. tusnoda, you understand that this is a matter of national security?"

his face was red now, cheeks heated and rosy as he played with his collar. "i can explain. i really can."

"then start talking. a man is dead. a very important man from a foreign government that we were supposed to be fixing our relations with!"

"i was having sex at the time of the murder." he spoke quietly.

the detective cocked her head. "i'm sorry, i didn't catch that."

"i was in bed when the murder happened!" he shouted. "we were in the dead man's room, but i didn't know until afterwards. the buttons came off my shirt, so i took one of his from the closet."

behind him, he heard the defence minister cough, obviously stifling a laugh.

"yeah, that's right! i can get laid too, jackass!"

"boys!" the detective scolded. "that's enough. mr. tsunoda, i'm going to need someone to corroborate that story. can you tell me who you were with?"

he swallowed nervously. "the pastry chef. i think her name is y/n. please, if her boss finds out, she'll lose her job."

TWO HOURS EARLIER

the sound of glass crashing against the kitchen tile was quieter than it should have been against the muffled soundtrack coming in from the other room, where a concert had been hastily pulled together by event staff on account of the fact that miley cyrus was staying in the same hotel, and that the entertainment had dropped out at the last minute.

"what the fuck do you mean i can't do my dessert? mike, the whole evening counted on it!"

"i don't want any open flames in the dining room!"

"wait," yuki said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation. "what was the dessert?"

the chef looked at him, eyes narrowed. "who the fuck is he and who let him in my kitchen?"

her cheeks were damp and she was obviously sweating from the heat inside the industrial kitchen. there were faint pit stains on her black blouse, her hair held back by a floral bandana. her shirt was unbuttoned just enough that yuki could see the saint christopher pendant nestled between her boobs.

"tsunoda yuki, ma'am. from the japanese foreign ministry. what was the dessert you were making?"

"crepes suzette. they're flambeed at the table."

yuki grinned. "i think the prime minister would love that."

her face morphed from an angry glare to a giddy smile as she turned back to mike. "yuki-san can stay. you can get fucked because i'm making crepes suzette whether you like it or not. now get out of my fucking kitchen."

"y/n, please! i don't want your dessert burning down teh fucking hotel."

"as long as the fire inspection is up to date, there shouldn't be a problem. now get out!" to accentuate her point, she threw another crystal glass against the tiled wall.

as a connoisseur of fine foods, yuki found it remarkable to watch her work, preparing enough desserts (that would inevitably be blowtorched) for a dining room of seven hundred. she commanded attention and authority, dishing out instructions to her team in a way that made the foreign secretary's pants grow a little tighter.

he was well and truly smitten.

after the meal was over, and yuki had gotten to see the pure delight on y/n's face as she performed a demonstration of the flambee portion of the dessert, he politely excused himself from the table as miley began to sing.

out of no disrespect for her, of course. she was an incredible performer. there was just someone else that yuki wanted to see more.

the kitchen was empty, the staff having left for a well deserved break when he pushed his way through the swinging doors. y/n was alone, sitting on one of the metal islands. she'd let her hair down, voluminous strands falling around her face as she stared down at her cell phone. she was snacking on a small bowl of table water crackers.

"excuse me, miss?" yuki started, taking off his tie and unbuttoning the top of his dress shirt. "i would like to pay my compliments to the chef."

she looked up at him, smiling as she tucked her phone away into an apron pocket. under the apron, she was wearing jeans and knee high boots with a small wedge heel.

"oh yeah? and how do you reckon you're going to do that?" she slid off the island, leaning against it.

yuki crept closer, arms caging her in. "first with a kiss." his voice was sultry as he said it, resting his forehead against hers. "and then, if she's up for it, in a king sized bed with a bottle of champagne, making her come all night long."

y/n grinned, gently tugging his hair. he groaned, and she took pleasure in how flustered he was getting.

she was flustered too, heat pooling in her core. "oh yeah, she's up for it."

when he kissed her, it was like a dam had broken. the kiss was sloppy and hungry, smearing her clear lip gloss all around her mouth before he bit down on her bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth. they could faintly hear miley's second set through the walls, adding a fitting ambiance as she started to grind against yuki's thigh. he pushed his leg further between hers, encouraging her movements as he felt himself harden, swallowing one of her moans as she desperately humped his slacks.

reluctantly, she broke away, face flushed and chest heaving up and down. her blouse had shifted, allowing yuki to see the devilish purple lace undnerneath.

"this is a health hazard." she breathed. "i can't fuck you in here."

"my room is on the seventh floor." yuki breathed. "but i left the key at the table."

"shit." she groaned, leaning her head back so far that the ends of her hair brushed the top of the stainless steel work station.

yuki absentmindedly wondered if that's what she'd look like on top of him.

"i have an idea." she said with a twinkle in her eye. "room service has a master key. it has to be in here somewhere."

hurriedly, the pair separated, opening drawers and checking wall hooks until she found it, triumphantly holding up the skeleton key. all the rooms were fully booked, but as long as the party kept going all night, they would have more than enough time between the sheets before yuki could slink back into the ballroom and grab his own room key.

giggling, she grabbed his arm and tugged him out of the kitchen's service entrance and up the back staircase. on the second floor, they rushed out of the stairwell, going straight for the first room they saw. y/n knew that this whole floor was rented out to the partygoers, and that they would be undisturbed. she slid the key into the lock, silently screaming in triumph as the door gave way. yuki followed her inside, barely waiting until the door was closed to pounce on her again.

he gripped her ass firmly with both hands, his lips kissing the juncture between her neck and collarbone with such force that she was backed up against the door. one of her legs coiled around his, her hands vaguely remembering to take off her apron. she grabbed the man's face, pressing her lips to his again as he tried to shrug off his expensive tailored jacket. his cock strained against his dress pants, and she could feel it through her jeans as he rutted against her.

"bed. now."

she followed him deeper into the immaculate room, the only sign of its habitation being the suitcase shoved into the corner. the bed was massive, layered with plush white pillows and a down duvet.

she fumbled out of her boots, and then her jeans and blouse, leaving them as a trail from the foyer to the raised portion of floor that the bed was on. yuki was already undressed, stroking his hard cock as he watched her fluff her hair and skip towards the bed.

“that’s quite the lingerie set you’ve got there.” he remarked

she shrugged, crawling onto the bed. “confidence booster. makes me feel powerful.” she rested her hands on his thighs, leaning forward to kiss him softly before tapping the end of his nose with her fingertip. “and we had a league of aussie rules football players through here last month. god, those guys know what they’re doing in bed.”

“I don’t know if I like hearing you talk about other men.” yuki purred, running a hand through her hair. “I want to be the only one who makes you feel good.”

she kissed his neck, guiding his hand to her ass as her own hand went to his hard cock, skillfully stroking up and down as she licked at his pulse point.

“mm, sweet girl.” yuki hummed, hips bucking into her hand. “that’s it, just like that.”

his hand skirted over her bottom, over the dark silk of her panties to where he slipped his fingers between her ass cheeks, gently playing with her small, tight hole.

she gasped at the sensation, her hand faltering around yukis dick.

“oh my god.” she gasped, burying her face between his neck and shoulder.

“yeah baby?” he hummed, turning his head to kiss her hair, letting out his own soft moan at the feeling of her fingers around him. “you like it when I play with your asshole? atta girl, just let me make you feel good.”

she nodded against his neck before tilting her head up to kiss him, hand moving along his member quicker and quicker. she could feel his hips stuttering under her hand. he leaned back with a harsh moan, staring up at the room's mirrored ceiling. reflected back at him, he could see his flushed, muscular body, and a gorgeous woman running her hand all over his cock.

he was in fucking heaven.

"fuck, baby, i'm close. keep fucking stroking me." he breathed, forcing himself to keep watching in the mirror as he finished, spilling all over her fingers, and his own thighs.

she was positively soaked, her panties being the only thing keeping her from dripping everywhere. sitting back on her heels, she licked the remnants of yuki's release from her hands before casting her panties aside, dimly aware that they landed on the carpet with a wet thumping sound.

"baby," she whined. "i need you so bad."

"so do i, angel girl. since i first saw you in that kitchen. my dress pants have been tight all evening." yuki purred, grabbing her hands and pulling her closer before nuzzling into her neck. "couldn't decide if i wanted to bend you over that kitchen island and fuck you so hard that the whole party could hear, or let you ride my cock and use me to get yourself off."

she audibly whimpered, clenching her thighs together. "fuck me, you could have said something. my job is done for the night once dessert is served."

yuki grinned, kissing her collarbone. "you made wielding a blowtorch much sexier than i think it probably should be."

"I see" her voice was low as she kissed him again, gently grinding her soaking wet core against his cock. "did my blowtorch make you hard?"

subtly rolling his eyes, he used one hand to angle his hard member upwards, thrusting into her opening. she moaned out a curse, leaning her head back.

"see the mirror, sweet girl? see how fucking sexy you look?" he growled, leaning back against the pillows. "makes me wanna fucking worship you."

she opened her eyes, staring up at the mirrored ceiling, at the deliciously sinful image of her riding the politician, face flushed and hair sweaty, already wrecked just from the way he played her with his fingers.

scraping her nails along his abs, she started swiveling her hips, moaning at the delicious drag of his inches deep inside of her. for a moment, inside this stolen hotel room, she was able to forget that they were a politician and a lowly pastry chef. they were just people, making each other feel good.

"oh, baby, you feel so fucking good." yuki moaned, gently slapping at the flesh on her thigh. he met her eyes in the mirror, hips bucking up to take her deeper.

her mouth fell open in a moan as she tried to chase that sensation, lifting her body up before dropping it down.

"yuki, please!" she begged. "i need you to fuck me deeper."

he sat up, planting the soles of his feet on the mattress. "hold on tight, angel." he warned, waiting for her to loop her arms around his neck before he gripped her hips tightly and started to thrust up, slamming himself into her.

"yes, yes, fuck!" she screamed, leaning over to kiss him, raking her nails across his shoulders as she moaned into his mouth. "feels so good."

she was perfectly content to sit there and continue to let the foreign secretary thrust into her, filling her in the perfect way as he grabbed the globes of her ass in both hands and continued to drive his hard cock in and out of her.

he noticed her legs start to tremble, and without a word, flipped them both over so that her back hit the goose down duvet. without missing a beat, yuki adjusted his angle, using one hand to hold himself up and the other to grip one of her legs, maneuvering it to change the angle slightly. he continued to thrust, but this time she could clearly see in the mirror where he was sliding in and out of her aching core.

that sight alone was enough to make her clench around his cock, hands gripping the sheets as she came without warning, back arched and eyes screwed shut.

"come on baby, give it to me." yuki encouraged. "come on, come on. cum for me." he fucked her right through it, never slowing down. "i know you've got another one in you baby, and i could spend all fucking night wrapped up inside this sweet pussy."

he slowed for a few thrusts, leaning over her with care and reverence as he brushed some of her sweaty hair out of her face, kissing her forehead, and then her cheeks, and lastly her lips.

"fuck, baby." he whispered. "something about you makes me want to soak these sheets in your come. i don't wanna stop until you're fully satiated."

"then don't stop." she encouraged, grabbing one of his ass cheeks and pulling him closer, feeling his cock go deeper. "give me another one."

"greedy girl." he grinned, kissing her again before thrusting hard and fast.

leaning her head back, she could see his body engulfing hers despite the minor height difference, likely due to muscle mass. with every thrust, she could see the way his ass jiggled with impact, the scratches she was leaving on his back, angry red marks against his pale skin, and each pleasure-filled expression she made as he took her higher and higher towards that peak.

"i want you to look at yourself when you come." he rasped into her ear. "see how fucking amazing you look."

she couldn't form words, simply gripping his shoulders tighter in response and latching her legs around his torso.

"atta girl." he grunted, using one hand to tweak and toy at her hard nipple through the lace of her unlined bra. "you can do it, i've got you. just give me one more, sweetheart. and then just milk my cock until you're full."

he could feel her walls clench around him, and he gently gripped her neck, guiding her face towards the mirror, watching her as she watched herself. "watch yourself come, angel. see how fucking good it feels."

she came with a cry, struggling to keep her eyes open as she gushed around him.

"fuck, babe. that's a big one." yuki groaned, snapping his hips. "take it, baby. take everything i've got." he let out a sharp grunt, hips faltering as he started to spill. she felt him everywhere, his release spreading deeper and deeper, hips smacking against hers.

with the soaked duvet lying on the floor with their clothes, the pair curled up in between the bamboo sheets, resting in a contented silence as yuki pressed gentle kisses to her body, paying extra attention to her perky and neglected nipples, sucking and kissing them through the fabric of her bra.

"i wish you didn't have to go back to japan." it wasn't a line. it was the truth. she really liked the dignitary she was sharing a bed with. he was sweet and kind and all the right kinds of spicy. in a different world, she would have loved to have seen where their relationship went.

"i know." he hummed, detaching himself from her right nipple. "but there's not much i can do about that. i'd love to bring you home with me, if it wouldn't create such a scandal."

combing her fingers through his hair, she was about to say something else when a crash and a scream forced them both to bolt upright.

"what the fuck was that?"

"i don't know." yuki jumped out of bed, reaching for his pants and shirt. "stay here while I go look."

she sat up anyways, back against the ornate headboard as she watched him dress. "what if its dangerous?"

"that's why you're staying here." he slipped his shirt over his shoulders, leaning over to kiss her. "i'm not letting anything happen to you." he turned around to button up his shirt before letting out a curse.

"what's wrong?"

"two buttons came off!"

"check the closet. one of the dignitaries is staying in here, there's bound to be another shirt."

yuki raised his eyebrows "you want me to wear a stranger's shirt!?"

"it's better than going out there without one!"

#yuki tsunoda x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #yuki tsunoda smut #yuki tsunoda imagine #formula one smut #formula 1 x reader #yuki tsunoda x you #yuki tsunoda fic

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tenessee-walker · 2 months ago

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Could you make head canons of a young Arthur in love with the reader?

Thinking about how serious he is in the game makes me believe that as a young man he acted like a fool in love, only that he tried to hide it for his pride 😭

I went a little freestyle oops

Like you so casually stroll over, all sweet and smiling, “You busy, Arthur? Thought we could go for a ride.” And Arthur just freezes, voice cracking like a damn teenager. “A—A ride? With—uh—yeah! Yeah, sure! Lemme—lemme just grab m’horse.” (He doesn’t even have his saddle on and he trips over his own boots trying to get it.)

young!arthur who spends the entire ride internally losing his mind. Like he’s so hyperaware of you riding beside him, your laugh drifting through the air, the way your hair whips in the wind—and Arthur’s just white-knuckling his reins, sweating. “Don’t say nothin’ stupid, Morgan. Don’t—” “So, Arthur—” “YER REAL PRETTY!” (…Christ.)

young!arthur who beats himself up for the next week after that. Just miserable, laying in his cot at camp like, “Why the hell did ya say that, Morgan? Real pretty? Real pretty? Jesus Christ, you sound like a damn idiot.” (But secretly? He kinda hopes you thought it was sweet.)

young!arthur who physically dies inside when you start playfully teasing him about it. Like you’ll walk past him and smirk, “Y’still think I’m real pretty, Arthur?” and he’ll choke on his coffee, face burning. “I-I-I didn’t—I mean, I do, but—Aw, hell.”

young!arthur who cannot handle physical contact from you. Like one night around the fire, you just casually lean your head on his shoulder—and Arthur goes rigid. Like absolutely petrified. His heart starts pounding so loud he’s convinced the whole camp can hear it. “S-She’s touchin’ me—oh my god—she’s touchin’ me.”

young!arthur who damn near melts when you fall asleep on him. Like one evening after a long ride, you’re both sittin’ by a lake and you doze off, head resting on his shoulder, breath soft against his neck. Arthur does not move for hours. His whole arm goes numb but he’s just like, “I’ll die here, I don’t even care.”

young!arthur who starts carving you little trinkets whenever he’s alone. Like he’ll sit by the fire after everyone’s asleep, whittling little wooden charms—birds, hearts, horses—with you in mind. But he never gives ‘em to you ‘cause he’s too embarrassed. (“She ain’t gonna want no damn carved bird, Morgan. Get ahold’a yerself.”)

young!arthur who absolutely panics when you do find one of his carvings. Like one day you’re rummaging through his saddlebag and you pull out this beautiful little wooden sparrow, perfectly carved and smoothed. “This yours, Arthur?”And he just about has a heart attack, snatching it from you like, “W-well—I mean—yeah, but—It’s nothin’, I—I just—”(He’s dying.)

young!arthur who completely combusts when you kiss his cheek one day. Like you’re patching him up after a brawl, murmuring, “Always gettin’ yourself hurt, Morgan,” and before you pull away you just press a kiss to his jaw. Arthur completely short-circuits. Like eyes wide, face burning, throat locked up. “…D-did ya mean t’do that?” And you just grin. “Maybe.”

young!arthur who avoids you for three days straight after that kiss because he’s so convinced you were just messin’ with him. Like he’s riding miles out of camp just to avoid seeing you—until finally you corner him by the river, hands on your hips, all pouty. “You avoidin’ me, Morgan?” And Arthur, damn near sweating, stammers, “N-No! I-I just—been busy, y’know. Workin’ and—uh—” (he’s hopeless.)

young!arthur who damn near has a heart attack when you finally kiss him for real. Like you just grab him by the collar one evening, yank him down, and kiss him hard. Arthur literally stops breathing. Hands flailing, brain malfunctioning. And when you finally pull back, grinning, Arthur just blinks like a moron. “…Jesus Christ.”

young!arthur who absolutely tries to act all cool and tough after that, like “Yeah, reckon I had a feelin’ ya liked me, darlin’.” But the second you walk away, he’s grinning so hard his face hurts, fists clenched like “OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD.”

young!arthur who will not shut up about you to Hosea after that. Like every night by the fire he’s just like, “She kissed me, Hosea. Like—on the mouth. Just grabbed me and did it. Can ya believe that?” and Hosea’s just chuckling like “Yeah, son, that’s usually how kissin’ works.”

#arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #rdr2 community #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanart #rdr #rdr1

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feistyvirghoe · 11 months ago

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𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 1 - you guys have such bright, very infectious because i’m just so giddy right now, yalls energy just shines bright like the sun omg, so full of positivity and love, happy as a child fr. i feel like people just like to consume your energy, has them all over the place, like pleading, there’s a push and pull effect you have, like you can be the most positive, optimistic person full of fucking light but then you have that other side to you that has people on their knees, like they can’t hold it in with you, the focus is on you guys, you’re hardworking and when you’re ready to fucking commit to something and go you just do it and get it started but you also know how to be inclusive and make others feel welcomed. i feel like people just want you to look at them, acknowledge them, you guys can adapt easily and may be spread out everywhere, you can’t just stay stuck to one thing and even within relationships im not saying you’re non-committal but you know your worth and some people and things just aren’t worth your time, you’re like a temptation, watch out for users and takers that may want to swindle you for whatever reason. you’re in tune with your femme side, you truly don’t need anyone to validate you and that’s a flex babe…it’s all you, something about the way you love and care for others, never dim that part of yourself, it’s so beautiful, the way you can own your mfkn power is by not letting bozos or losers come in and try to knock u off ur damn throne, standing up for yourself, believing that you’re fucking powerful just by being your true authentic self, confidently strutting your stuff, not giving away too much of yourself as well, connecting with your innermost self, reminding yourself who you are deep down inside, not being swayed the outside opinions of others, you may be a lil homebody and that’s okay..you’re sure of yourself and you don’t need anyone up in your face trying to fucking control you and make u feel small, by continuing to protect yourself in a healthy way, strong fucking boundaries is what needs to be set, don’t let these weirdos try to come in and fucking knock down your walls with their hateration and disgusting jealousy, show yourself off, embrace that fire within you, dont second guess yourself or make yourself small to fit in, burn bright baby boo. an affirmation for u - “i am a badass warrior and i conquer self doubt like it’s my fucking job!”

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 2 - your gentleness makes u fucking strike like lightning and i know you’re like “how?” babe we need more kind people like you on this planet, this world is so full of hatred and evil people, you’re kindness and compassion and just love for others makes you fucking strike babe, you’re a giver, very generous individual but i can see that you protect your heart as well, you know not to let shady people come and try to steal your energy, yeah that’s a thing, and you may need to be careful of that too, giving yourself away to undeserving people. you’re so content and just emotionally fulfilled on your own, u truly do not need someone else to fill your cup but im betting there’s a lot of people that would love to if you’d let them, you’re allowed be taken care of and poured into. but with how abundant your energy is and just how rich you are in spirit, of course it’d attract a bunch of energy vampires, just people with weird intentions. very emotionally mature and also vulnerable as well, well with the right people of course but you don’t hide how you’re feeling, and thats literally okay, you’re allowed to fucking let yourself feel free expressing what and how you’re feeling if that makes sense haha. you may throw people off, it’s like they dont expect YOU, like literally just you, your compassionate self. you don’t chase after people bc you know you’re already secure inside so don’t doubt that. maybe you really second guess yourself and how you’re coming off to others but i feel like people just see such a pure genuine soul, not just a nice person but a very kindhearted soul. you make others feel calm, like just content and chill haha. i feel like yall just make people smile, like smirking to themselves just thinking about you, omg admiring you and adoring you, u could be all up in people’s heads, unforgettable, maybe some just want to indulge themselves in you, just be cautious and aware of snakes hidden in the grass. i feel like i could go on and on about you guys, i dont want to make it too long though ;) your sweetness dude, you’re just like a lil fucking teddy bear ahhhh, someone who loves to help others, doesn’t matter what it may be just serving, wanting to be useful to others? maybe ppl have made u feel worthless bc of how kind you are like as if that’s boring or some shit, ignore those ppl, we need more kindness and love, don’t hide that side of yourself idc, let others who want to appreciate you show you their love. you’re also very in tune with your spiritual side and i feel you may dim that down too as if you’re not gifted i mean you’re here right?? embrace that side of yourself, you don’t even know how helpful you are to others, i feel like your generosity and just your pure loving soul is what puts a smile on others faces, so balanced, you’re just an unforgettable nurturer, a whole sweetie pie, a cutie pie ahhh, just such a sweet soul okay here’s an affirmation for you <3 “success is my middle name; watch me fucking conquer.” “i choose to surround myself with people who fucking respect me” and to own your power i feel like you just need to see you more, like you’re the one who can stay calm during the stormy weather, a shield for others, very protective over your loved ones and self, stay true to that boo! <33

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 3 - i feel like y’all are my glamorous pile, the ones ready to put their feet on the fucking ground and nobody ain’t going to fucking get in your way and stop you lmfao i’m hearing under the influence by chris brown, i feel like you guys got people feeling like they on drugs around you, your energy is intoxicating and addicting, some may even wanna knock u up to keep you as theirs wtf okay anyways hahahaha okay i feel like the way yall strike is like you’re in that empress energy very strong minded, in touch with your feminine side and you know when to cut a bitch off but then with that, the same people you cut off may try to come back and slither their way back into your life omg what the hell, so you guys are like the “heartbreakers” but not really because you just know your fucking worth more than what lames can give to you and not just that how they’re with you as well, goes for any relationship, you know when to fucking walk away and you’re not taking weird bullshit from anyone, you don’t play, i feel like your anger plays a part in making you fucking powerful, when you’re done you’re done and you can easily see through people’s bullshit, their facade, in hearing shit you up, lol u piss people off, idk what you’re truly doing, it could honestly just be you and your awareness, you’re not going to stand down and make yourself a tiny purse dog lmfao, very sassy as well, like no one can fucking control you, even if they wanted to, you guys make people uncomfortable but that’s there own issue, you may the wrong people for you uncomfortable haha, they try to fucking go and go at you relentlessly attacking you for no reason, so i can see why you’re protective of yourself and u don’t stand down, i mean with weird people like this honestly weird energy like this coming for y’all i understand why, it’s like you’re power makes others want to overthrow you and try and like one up you, just weird, got people competing for u and against you, i feel like they’re jealous of your fucking success and not just material success but your ambition, your drive, your resilience, never giving up on yourself no matter how hard it gets, you’re your own positive light in your life, you know how to make yourself happy, still shining, blowing out your candles, celebrating your fucking self like you should! yeah your fucking power just makes others despise you lmfao weird as hell, you live life on your own goddamn terms and you’re not sitting around waiting for anyone, a leader on your own, it’s like a natural quality of yours, you just know how to be up in front exuding dominance, like a lion, your walk may just give off CONFIDENCE i mean you have the emperor here, you’re just a fucking natural at it, it comes easily to you so i can see why others may feel offended by your power but they’re just projecting and not seeing their own power within themself, you look ahead, you don’t look for others, they look for you, goddamn lmfao! affirmations for you guys - “i’m letting go of negative bullshit, toxic people, and self doubt. i’m creating a fucking epic life on my own terms!” & “i am enough, i have enough, and damn right im fucking worth it!”

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 4 - i can see you guys regenerating in hermit mode, like taking some time to be alone with yourself building your power back up and cleansing yourself of all the weird energies you may have encountered, you like your solitude, my loners here, the ones who don’t mind leaving the party early, ready to go home and chill the fuck out or going on adventures by yourself and taking some time to just connect with your higher self if u wanna say that, just going within and seeing that light within yourself, you blossom on your own, you know how to make sure busy, it’s like when quarantine was around heavy, it didn’t phase this group, maybe it was even like a fuck yeah moment, nobody outside to bother you hahaha, like you guys may love to work out and get back to yourself that way, doing yoga, stretching, moving your body, but you may also be very cautious of the outside world, like you just jumped off the boat into uncharted territory taking time to feel out the place/environment/energy just watching where you’re stepping, or what you’re stepping into, making your way as you go along whatever journey you may be on, weighing out your options, not making hasty decisions, a thinker, maybe even a realist too. calm, balanced people here, like a lot of introspection, a very nostalgic person too. embracing the old memories, in tune with your childhood self, doing things that fuel your soul and what makes you feel the most peaceful, maybe you guys struggle with the mind so grounding yourself and staying away from the crowd is what helps you to stay sane and sharp, for you to be your most powerful self i feel like you just need that time away from everyone. yep it’s like you can’t really count on other people, do people make you second guess yourself, it’s like you’re there for everyone but they couldn’t even be bothered to hear you out, don’t give so much of yourself away to ungrateful people. you matter a lot and i can see this may be draining you as well, probably why you’re very cautious, but remember don’t keep yourself stuck on others weird projections and how they may try to take from you, it’s okay to be alone and regroup, if some one is offended by that then that’s there issue. the way u, my group four babies can uplift yourself and own your power is by letting yourself fucking shine and put yourself out there, confidently, i feel like people like making you guys feel small and quiet like a mouse, but you’re not a goddamn mouse you’re the fucking cat, and cats do whatever the hell they want to do, use your voice and own that fucking power, your words hold weight, speak more positively over your life and your self, unbiased opinions and being straightforward with your communication, don’t close yourself off from true unconditional love too..you deserve to be recognized and appreciated for all you do!!! keep fucking going, don’t give up on love, that goes for loving yourself too!! every fucking part of you and yes even the ugly bc the ugly is actually beautiful and makes you see the parts of you that you want to grow from and evolve beautifully into a better version of yourself! affirmations for y’all - “i’m unstoppable and nothing can hold me back, not even my fucking fears.” “my uniqueness shines like a freaking diamond! confidence? it’s my middle name, baby!” “i’m a badass boss babe and i don’t give a damn about what anyone thinks. i rock my confidence like a boss!”

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐀𝐂, 𝐢 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜��𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢’𝐦 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐡𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐢 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐩, 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐟𝐫, 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞, 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭!! 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐌𝐖𝐀𝐇 (^з^)-☆

#tarot readings #pick a card #pac #pick a pile #feistyvirghoe #black tarot readers #tarotblr #lifting u up #power #strength #you r a badass!

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luvst4rc0r3 · 3 months ago

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"Playing Dangerous"

Police Officer!Jinx x Reader AU: Modern Word Count:1166 Playing Dangerous – Lana Del Rey

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

The fire was already burning by the time Jinx got there.

Orange flames licked at the night sky, smoke curling into the air as the sirens wailed. People crowded the street, faces illuminated by the flickering glow. But amidst the chaos, you stood perfectly still.

Barefoot. Nightgown slightly singed at the edges. Innocence painted across your face.

Jinx pulled up in her cruiser, stepping out with a measured gaze. You turned, your lips parting just slightly as if you hadn’t noticed the house behind you engulfed in flames.

She clicked her tongue. “Hell of a sight, huh?”

“Everybody knows I'm a good girl, officer” “The house was already on fire, I swear I'm not a liar”

Your eyes were wide. “I swear, I didn’t do it, officer.”

Jinx arched a brow. “Didn’t say you did.”

You tilted your head, lower lip catching between your teeth like you were thinking real hard about something. The fire crackled in the distance, heat pressing against your skin.

“You always work alone so late?”

Jinx scoffed, adjusting the belt at her hip. “What, you worried about me?”

Your lashes fluttered, feigned shyness creeping into your voice. “Just seems a little dangerous, don’t you think?”

Jinx smirked. “I like dangerous.”

The fire roared behind you, but she wasn’t looking at the flames anymore.

She was looking at you.

And you were looking at her like you’d just found your favorite game to play.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

Jinx should’ve walked away.

But instead, she was standing in front of you, cuffs in hand, debating whether this was gonna be the best or worst decision of her career.

“Gotta take you in,” she muttered, more to herself than to you.

Your lips curved. “Really?”

“Gosh, I'm a little shy standing here in my nightgown. Do you really have to put those tight handcuffs on?”

She hesitated. Just for a second.

And that second was enough for you to take a small step closer, bare feet pressing against the pavement, body warm despite the cool night air.

Your voice was quiet, teasing. “Do you really have to put those tight handcuffs on me?”

Jinx swallowed. Hard.

Shit.

She shouldn’t be hesitating. She never hesitated.

But then you smiled—sweet and slow, like you knew exactly what you were doing.

“Looking at me, then suddenly”

Jinx exhaled sharply, then spun you around. The cold steel of the cuffs clicked against your wrists, snug but not cruel.

She didn’t miss the way you shivered.

And she definitely didn’t miss the way you whispered, “Guess I’m going for a ride.”

Jinx clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to say something reckless.

“I'm in love, I'm in love Lovin' hurricane I'm in love, I'm in love Love in a hurricane”

But her fingers twitched against your wrists as she led you toward the cruiser, placing you in the backseat.

You shifted slightly, glancing up at her through thick lashes. “You can ask me anything you want, officer.”

Jinx sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Anything.”

She leaned against the door, staring at you like she was trying to figure you out. “Alright. You got a boyfriend or something?”

You glanced at her hands. “Do you?”

Jinx scoffed, flexing her fingers. “Do I look like the type to settle down?”

Your smile widened. “I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

Jinx’s breath caught. “That’s… interesting.”

You tilted your head. “Have you ever thought of dating a singer?”

Jinx started.

Because, of course, that was what you were.

She remembered it now—your name, your reputation, the way your voice had a tendency to make people feel like they were falling.

She shouldn’t be thinking about this.

She should be driving to the station.

Instead, she muttered, “You’re a damn menace.”

You beamed.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

The flames were dying in the distance, but the heat between you hadn’t gone anywhere.

Jinx had driven in circles, never quite making it to the station, never quite making the decision she should have made an hour ago.

And now, here she was.

Parked. Engine idling.

Watching you in the rearview mirror like you were some kind of problem she didn’t want to solve.

You shifted in the backseat, nightgown slipping off one shoulder as you smirked. “So, what happens now?”

Jinx exhaled, running a hand through her messy blue hair. “That’s a damn good question.”

You leaned forward slightly, eyes twinkling. “You know, it’s kind of exciting, don’t you think?”

Jinx arched a brow. “What is?”

You shrugged. “All of this.”

She tilted her head. “You get off on breaking the law or something?”

“The flames are getting higher, so's my desire It's kind of exciting, don't you think?”

You smiled lazily, resting your chin on your shoulder. “Only when it comes with perks.”

Jinx snorted, shaking her head. “You’re insane.”

Your voice dipped lower, soft and smooth. “Love is strange.”

Jinx froze.

You leaned in just a little closer, whispering like you were telling a secret. “Sometimes it makes you crazy.”

Jinx swallowed.

“It can burn…”

Your fingers ghosted over your own wrist, where her cuffs still held you captive.

“…or break you.”

Jinx sucked in a sharp breath. “You tryna tell me something, doll?”

You smiled, slow and knowing. “You tell me, officer.”

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

She shouldn’t be doing this.

But then again, Jinx never did what she should do.

“Then suddenly he's(she's) uncuffing me”

Her fingers brushed against yours as she unlocked the cuffs, metal clinking softly in the quiet.

Your breath hitched as you rubbed your wrists, staring up at her with something dangerous flickering in your eyes.

And then, before she could stop herself—before she could think too hard about what the hell she was doing—Jinx grabbed your chin, tilting your face up.

“If you can’t stand the heat…” she murmured, voice husky.

Your lips parted. “Then stay out of the fire.”

Jinx leaned in, her breath warm against your cheek.

Your voice barely wavered. “You might get what you desire, officer.”

Jinx smirked. “Maybe I already have.”

Then, she kissed you.

It was reckless and messy, all teeth and tongue and heat. You gasped against her lips, hands flying to her jacket, pulling her in like you needed this. Like you needed her.

“I’ve been bad, I've been wrong Playing a dangerous game I'm in love, I'm in love Lovin' hurricane, hurricane, hurricane”

Jinx’s grip tightened, fingers curling around your waist as she pressed you against the leather seat.

You tilted your head back, whispering breathlessly, “Sometimes love makes you crazy.”

Jinx bit her lip, eyes dark. *“Yeah? Well, you’re makin’ me fuckin’ insane.”

You laughed, fingers threading through her blue hair. “Good.”

And just like that…

The game was over.

And you’d both lost.

Or maybe—just maybe—you’d won.

I'm trying to upload and finish ALL of my drafts (Like 10 of em)

I want sleep

#arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #x reader #x y/n #x you #jinx arcane #jinx lol #jinx league of legends #jinx #jinx x reader #powder #arcame #arcane #Spotify

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s0fter-sin · 5 months ago

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one of my favourite aspects of supernatural that you very rarely see in paranormal shows is that sam and dean are already versed in the world they live in. there’s no sudden discovery of ghosts and demons and now they have to learn about them along with the audience; they are born into it and already know all about it. it allows the audience to follow their personal story instead of also trying to figure out this new world and its rules

the first season is full of knowledge we never see them learn; “w*ndigoes are in the minnesota woods or- or northern michigan. i’ve never even heard of one this far west.” […] “great. well then this [his gun] is useless.” (1x02), “you don’t break a curse. you get the hell out of its way.” (1x08), d: “it’s a god. a pagan god, anyway.” […] “the annual cycle of its killings? and the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. like some kind of fertility right.” […] s: “the last meal. given to sacrificial victims. d: “yeah, i’m thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some pagan god.” (1x11)

almost every episode in the first season is a monster they’ve faced before that they then explain to the audience in a way that should feel patronising; like it’s the same speech given over and over again but instead, the audience almost feels included in the knowledge. it’s stated with such an innate confidence and comfort in said knowledge that it feels like we already knew it too; “spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. if they want inside, they just go through the walls.” […] “the claws, the speed that it moves; could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog.” (1x02), “it's biblical numerology. you know noah's ark, it rained for forty days. the number means death.” (1x04), “no no no, not the reaper, a reaper. there's reaper lore in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names.” […] “you said it yourself that the clock stopped, right? reapers stop time. and you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why i could see it and you couldn't.” (1x12)

they already know and, at least in the first season, already have what they need to kill whatever they’re hunting; already know to salt and burn bones for spirits, fire for a w*ndigo, exorcisms for demons, a silver bullet to the heart for shapeshifters. there’s only three times in the entire first season that they run into something new to them; 1x14 when sam gets his first vision that leads him to another psychic, 1x16 when dean calls caleb for help on the sigil he put together and he tells him about daevas, and 1x20 when they find out vampires are real- and they only don’t know that bc john thought they were hunted to extinction and not worth mentioning

(there’s also technically two half instances if you count one of them knowing something the other doesn’t - sam figuring out the tulpa in 1x17 and dean already knowing about the shtriga in 1x18 - but those still rely on sam and dean having prior knowledge)

even when they’re uncertain about facing something, it’s not bc they don’t know what it is; it’s precisely bc they know what it is and acknowledge that it’ll be a difficult hunt (“i don't know, man. this isn't our normal gig. i mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. this is big. and i wish dad was here.” 1x04)

so much of the tension in paranormal shows typically comes from the main character(s) not knowing what is happening to them/the people around them and having to find out how to resolve it. supernatural is unique in that it operates more like a police procedural. the tension comes from solving the clues and identifying patterns to figure out who (what) the killer is and intercepting before they can take another victim

it’s such a different tone to go for when compared to other shows that came both before, during, and after its run. it sets sam and dean on even footing with each other since they both have the same knowledge going in, and it puts them in a place of authority usually reserved for an outside character

the shows i compare spn to most is charmed, buffy and teen wolf; every main character in those shows are brought into the paranormal world knowing nothing, putting them on the same level as the audience, and they have their mc interact with others already knowledgeable about that world in order to overcome their problem/monster of the week. the audience organically learns about this new world as the characters learn about it. it’s a sound writing strategy that prevents “as we already know”-style exposition but something that complicates it is if your world building isn’t unique or intriguing enough, this slow introduction can become boring

we’ve seen shows like these before; sitting through the same tropes of characters learning to use their powers, struggling with no longer feeling normal/relating to the regular world around them, and not knowing how much they can trust the people already involved in this new world gets repetitive. all three shows eventually reach the same level of comfort with their new world that spn starts with but if the characters aren’t enough to draw you in, you can end up dropping it before they reach that point (and often, before the overarching plot can really kick in and evolve the show beyond the villain of the week format)

it’s the superhero origin movie in tv format; dragged out and overplayed. dropping the audience into an established world of course comes with its own problems but you also have the benefit of pre-existing established character dynamics that let the audience slot in like they’ve always been there instead of just getting to know all the characters while the characters also get to know each other

sam and dean already knowing about the supernatural lets the audience immediately get to the core of the story; the conflict between sam and dean, the search for their father, and the mystery of what killed their mother

#i could go on forever theres literally so many examples #dean figuring the ‘two dark doubles’ is a shapeshifter sam figuring out the changing ghost is a tulpa #also peak how many of these examples come from dean despite them pushing so hard for sam to be the one knowing hunting theory #this format is why i cant stand watching the first season of charmed despite loving it so much #i just cant be bothered watching them have the same struggle ive seen a hundred times play out again #different genre but sons of anarchy does this well too; all the characters are already in the club life and already have inner conflict #spn having such a natural introduction makes me so glad they didnt go with the original plan of sam not knowing about hunting #that wouldve been Painful #watching spn so young has really shaped my view of media bc i legit cant stand things with a learning curve #give me an established world damnit #lord of the rings never stops to explain what a dwarf is! you just go with it! and it rules!#dean is just as theoretical and lore savvy as sam and id go as far to say he actually knows more #instead of trying to do this bullshit brains v brawn divide they shouldve done new tech vs analogue #sams laptop is famous and he also knows how to hack thing where the second dean doesnt know something he defaults to books #have dean be the one where if its written down he can find it almost like a proto bobby #they even kind of support that by him being the one to find the phoenix in s6 when they go through all their books #but this was 2005 and characters could only be so conplex and theyd already decided dean needed to be the hot one and sams the nerd one #side note how many of these metas am i going to write on this rewatch? tbd #side side note included all the quotes and episode numbers makes me feel so academic #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #carry on my wayward son #talk meta to me #meta #supernatural meta #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #save post

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