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#throwing those last two in for good measure...
musiclovingmoth · 2 months
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and when i say "specimens" i don't mean taxidermied mounts made to look lifelike for exhibit, i'm talking about the thousands to millions of specimens lying in drawers and shelves like this:
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asking because i didn't know this until i was in high school. reblogs greatly appreciated, i want to reach as far out of science nerd tumblr as possible!
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dantakeyoman · 1 year
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You Want Your Avatar To Become Fully Na’vi, But Neteyam Is Firmly Against It (SFW / Slight-Angst)
Reader is Fem! Avatar
CW: Angry Neteyam, he means well, he’s just scared :’), reader is in her avatar body during argument, things for the humans of Pandora aren’t doing so great, this was NOT meant to take this long, i dont think this came out well
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“Absolutely not! It is out of the question!” Neteyam harshly dismissed, turning his back on you.
“Neteyam, you are only looking at the possible downsides. I-.” “I do not find your death a downside, (y/n),” he cut off, whipping back around in anger.
He could not believe you were suggesting this, knowing how he felt about the subject.
You wanted to make the change, to ask Eywa to bond your human soul with your Na’vi avatar.
But there was no guarantee that the Great Mother would accept this request. 
In fact, it was highly likely that she would deny it, taking you to join her sooner than planned.
Like so many had before you.
“Well, living in my human body is not much different from death, is it?” you huffed, angrily crossing your arms.
“Do not talk like that,” Neteyam glared, pointing a warning finger at you, saying Eywa forbid in his head for good measure.
“It’s true! I am a human, Neteyam! Living on a planet where anything and everything can kill me! My bones aren’t reinforced with carbon like you!” you burst, throwing your hands up in frustration.
“All it takes is one misstep, one wrong move, one place I’m in at the wrong time. And I’m done. Finished.”
“I will protect you, then! But there is no way I can let you go through with this!” Neteyam exclaimed, his eyes having the tiniest flicker of...something.
It was fear.
This conversation was truly frightening him. 
You seemed dead set on this, not budging a single inch even after the screaming match you two had been having for the past hour.
“There is no guarantee that you will survive the transfer.”
“There is no guarantee that you will be there every time I need saving,” you countered, sharply.
“I WILL BE!”
“BUT WHAT IF YOU WON-?!”
“KEHE!” he loudly hissed, silencing you mid-sentence.
You looked at him, blankly. Shocked.
He had never hissed at you before.
“I will not listen to this any longer,” he said darkly, turning around and getting ready to walk out.
You could not let the argument end like this. 
And you knew you had to share with him what you had found out from the scientists.
"There’s been talk, Neteyam,” you started, the Na’vi boy stopping in his tracks.
He was listening.
“I overheard Norm and Max talking about the oxygen tanks that were left over from the first Great War. They said that they can only last for so long. And with no way to replenish them, they’re guessing we only have about a year and a half of air left before it completely runs out.”
Neteyam’s eyes shot wide as he turned around, looking at you nervously.
Fearfully.
“That is why I have been so persistent with this. If I do not make the transfer, I will either be sent back to Earth-.” You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“Or I will die.”
The horrible word sent Neteyam’s head spinning, his mind already coming up with images of you laying on the forest ground, gasping for air that was no longer there.
Both options were unbearable.
Your death was obviously out of the question. But going back to Earth? 
He’d never see you again. 
You’d go back to living with your people. And no doubt some human man would try to sweep you off your feet.
The very thought made his blood boil, and his heart burn.
Not you. Not his love.
He didn’t think he could physically function without you by his side.
Who would braid his hair? Who would cuddle him when he was tired? Who would help patch his wounds after battle?
The poor boy was so lost in his imaginary grief, that he didn’t even notice to walk up to him, until you cupped his cheek in your hand.
“Do you see now? The choice is death now, or death later-.” “Please,” Neteyam stopped you, pleadingly, his voice cracking as he rested his forehead on yours.
“Do not speak like that. Do not bring those pictures into my head.”
You sighed, allowing your thumb to caress his cheek as you placed a feather-light kiss on his lips.
“I will not go through it without your blessing, my Neteyam,” you assured, giving him a sad smile.
If Neteyam did not feel comfortable with you making the transition, then you would respect his wishes. 
Neteyam took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug.
“You promise you will come back to me?” he asked, muffled as he lowered his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.
You cheesed, a small chuckle escaping your lips.
“I do not believe Eywa brought us together if she did not plan for me to.”
...
“Tìng mikun ayoheru rutxe, ma Nawma Sa’nok!” Mo’at exclaimed to the People, the Sully family, and the entire clan connected to the Soul Tree.
“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison, the bioluminescent ground pulsing on beat.
You, and your avatar body, lay naked at the base of the tree, unconscious as the undergrowth made tsaheylu with the nape of both your necks.
Neteyam kneeled nervously before you, saying his own quiet prayer to Eywa for your good health.
To everyone else, he seemed surprisingly calm about this, as if the whole ceremony didn’t faze him in the slightest.
But on the inside, he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.
If you were to die, he didn’t think he could take it.
He wasn’t strong enough.
When he watched the beautiful eyes of your human body shut, it felt as if his heart was being ripped out.
What if that was the last time he could look into them? 
His hands shook as he continued, the only one seeming to notice being his mother.
She knew how she felt.
She was in his exact place at one time. Years ago.
“Pori tireati, munge mì nga,” Mo’at walked over to your human body, shaking her hands above you.
“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.
“ulte tìng ayoer nì’eyng ngeyä ya!” she shifted to your avatar, shaking her hands above her as well.
“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.
“Tivìran po ayoekip,” Mo’at held her hands up to the air.
“Srung si poeru, ma Eywa,” the clan chanted in unison.
“Na Na’viyä hapxì!” she shouted, whipping her hands out to the People.
“Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia.”
Mo’at’s eyes rolled in the back of her head as she continued to chant, Neteyam practically sweating bullets.
It’d be quite a funny sight if the stakes weren’t so high.
“Lu hasey!” she shouted, silencing the crowd.
The ceremony was done.
Quickly, Neteyam crouched over you, carefully removing the oxygen mask from your face and placing it next to you.
He leaned down, placing two, gentle kisses on each of your eyelids.
You looked so peaceful.
Moving over to your avatar, he carefully caressed her face, looking down at her so lovingly.
Don’t get him wrong, your human body was beautiful. One of the prettiest he’s ever seen.
But when it came to your avatar.....well....let’s just say your features, and a Na’vi woman’s features, mix very well.
“Please wake up, my love. I am right here. I am waiting for you,” he encouraged, raising your hand to his cheek as he sadly smiled.
He knew passing through the Eye of Eywa was very tiring, but he would be there to cheer you on the whole way.
And just like that, you gasped, your eyes snapping open.
The entire clan went up in uproarious cheers.
This was the first time the transfer had worked in a long time.
“My (y/n)!” Neteyam sighed, relieved as he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.
He was at the brink of tears.
He was so, so proud of you.
That’s right. His soon-to-be mate was the one that survived. 
She was a strong, beautiful, and tough woman, Na’vi or not.
“It....worked!” you looked down at yourself, turning over your hands to get a good look at them.
I had truly worked. You were Na’vi now.
And you had seen Eywa.
Oh, she was so gorgeous. Her beauty was divine, and beyond complete comprehension, but she was still soft and kind, like that of a mother.
You would have to tell Neteyam all about it when you got a chance.
Speak of the devil.
“Neteyam!” you squealed as the boy quickly scooped you up bridal style, turning to the clan with a smirk on his face.
“AUAUAUAUAUAUAUAU!” he ululated happily, holding you close as he paraded you down the aisle, his smile nearly blinding you.
You laughed, wrapping our arms around his neck as the people of the clan cheered, some letting out their own shouts of joy.
As you two approached his ikran, you smirked, sitting yourself down on the saddle.
“I told you I would make it back,” you teased, earning a playful eye roll from the warrior as he hopped on behind you.
“I am happy you proved me wrong,” he smirked, turning your chin with his thumb and index, landing a passionate kiss on your lips.
It was the type to leave you breathless when you separated.
Which it did.
As you stared at him, stupidly...lovingly. He smiled, a small chuckle escaping his lips.
“What am I going to do with you?”
...
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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Part 6 of childhood friend Simon
“You missed a spot.”
“Like hell I did.”
Simon’s eye twitches as you snort, turning back to your phone. “Some sniper you are, blind bastard.”
The silence stretches for one, two, three…..
“Where?” he sighs.
“Left side of your jaw.” You gesture at the spot just near where it curves, a few centimeters from the corner. He runs his thumb over the spot and finds a patch of stubble.
“Fuck.”
“‘Like hell I did’,” you mock.
He narrows his eyes, points threateningly. “Watch it or I’ll shave an eyebrow.”
You snort, unconcerned. “Remember that time I did shave my eyebrows?”
He smirks as he runs the razor over the bit he missed, double checks he got it, then rinses in the sink.
“Wasn’t it because of some stupid YouTube video?”
“Yes, and I still have nightmares about having to draw them in.”
He nearly snorts water everywhere trying not to laugh, quickly wiping his face off with the towel you hand him.
“Didn’t your mum start calling you caterpillar girl?”
Your mouth drops open, scandalized.
“Simon Riley you swore you’d never bring that up again!”
He laughs outright as you chase him from the bathroom, whacking him in the arm. When he puts his hands up in mock surrender, you give him one last swat for good measure.
“Assaulting a military officer is illegal.”
You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re legally dead, aren’t you? So wouldn’t that be desecrating a corpse?”
“I’ll have to ask Laswell.”
“Or we could ask Johnny. I bet he’ll know.”
The implication of Johnny knowing versus having an opinion is not something Simon’s equipped to parse before his first cuppa.
“Johnny’s just gonna side with you.”
You shrug - because it’s true. Johnny may be Simon’s (other) best friend, but he’s also a shithead that takes every opportunity to fuck with Ghost. And with you around “protecting” him, he’s been an absolute bastard.
“Then we’ll ask Gaz and John too,” you offer as you step into your shoes.
You’ve been lining them up next to his boots off to the side. The contrast of big, black leather next to your much smaller trainers would be almost comedic if it didn’t make his chest warm.
A reminder that you’re here with him, in a place he usually spends all his time wishing to see you. He’s called you countless times on the same bed you’ve been sharing for the past week. And now you’re wearing his official SAS hoodie (complete with his name on the back) and invading his wardrobe, about to go with him to breakfast in the mess.
Johnny, in a shocking twist, doesn’t think it’s desecrating a corpse to smack Simon.
“Well, he’s Ghost, aye? So it’d be exorcising him, no?”
Your eyes go all big as you turn to Simon with unholy delight. He makes a mental note to throw Johnny onto the mat once more than usual during their next spar.
That’ll have to wait though, because he’s promised you range time and then the obstacle course. Johnny tags along, interested to see your marksmanship when Simon’s talked it up so much.
He watches on, pride bright and hot in his chest, as you walk through all the steps he’s taught you. It’s even his favorite gun in your steady hands, fingers elegant as you load, chamber. Click the safety off and settle into your preferred stance.
The first two shots hit the target, though off to the side, the second closer to center than the first. You pause, take a breath before he even says anything. Then fire again. And again. And again. Until the mag is empty and he brings the paper target back.
A neat cluster of 15 holes, dead center.
“Atta girl,” he rasps, tugging you into his side and pressing a kiss against your hair.
“I did good?” you ask, beaming.
“Lass, even those first two would have been the end of some poor sod,” Johnny chimes in, patting your shoulder. “Guess the LT isn’t such a bad teacher after all.”
Simon narrows his eyes. “Was that even a question?”
Johnny shoves the ammo box at you. “A pint says you can’t do it again.”
“You’re on!”
The obstacle course is slightly less of a success.
“Oh, hey, Si,” you giggle, clinging onto the rope for dear life. “Ya come here often.”
He snorts. “Did you get stuck?”
“No!” You huff, scowling. “Im just… hanging around.”
He’s enjoyed watching you navigate the course - more importantly, he likes that you enjoy climbing around. Even if he’s had a small heart attack every time your foot slips or you wobble.
“Oi, you’re holding up traffic,” Gaz huffs, rapping his knuckles against your foot.
“Do you mind?” you call back. “Im telling Simon bad jokes.”
“Oh, by all means then.”
Simon snorts, jerks his head for you to continue. Johnny laughs as you shimmy along, laughs harder when you almost fall flipping him off.
Once you make it to the other side, Gaz climbs up after you and starts demonstrating how to do the next section. Simon and Johnny follow along, the latter cheering you on.
Movement from the corner of his eye draws his attention; Price, determined set to his shoulders. Simon recognizes the glint in his eye.
“Got ‘em?” Simon asks, hopeful.
Having you spend all day with him on base has been a subconscious fantasy come true. You, close by and safe, under 24/7 guard. But the circumstances have made his skin crawl, made it difficult to enjoy the novelty. Woken him up in the small hours of the night and hug you as close as he can without waking you.
“Fuckin’ got ‘em,” Price confirms. “Laswell’s got the docket prepped. All that’s left it briefing and prep. You can be wheels up in a few hours.”
Simon cracks his neck, anticipation sparking in his veins. His gaze slides to you, to his teammates helping you down from the wall. Price follows your gaze.
“You good for this one, Simon? Got your head on straight?”
Simon flicks him a look. “You know I’m good.”
“I know Ghost is good. What about Simon?”
He blinks, gaze going back to you. You can tell already even from a distance, by the set of his shoulders, that something is going on. You’re still relaxed, but there’s a questioning curve to your mouth as you stop at his side, fingers curling in the sleeve of his shirt.
“Something happened?” you ask.
“We found the group targeting you.”
“Oh!” You arch your eyebrows, eyes bouncing between him and Price. “You’ll be taking care of it, then?”
Simon turns back to Price, a silent “well?”.
“We’ll discuss strategies during the brief.”
You perk up. “Do I get to come?”
“Might as well,” Price sighs. “Let’s go.”
In the end, of course Simon is going to go. You’re his girl, always have been. He trusts his team, but when it comes to you, he’ll see this done right. And the only way to be sure, the only way to have peace, is for him to eliminate the threat himself.
Johnny’s coming along, of course. The slightest bit of tension in your shoulders eases when Price decides it. Simon presses his thigh into yours.
When the brief is done, strategies and timelines set, you follow him back to his barrack. He gears up while you sit on the bed, idly inspecting his vest while he straps into everything else.
“Nervous?” he asks.
You tilt your head back and forth considering. “Not more than usual before you leave. It seems like this is pretty standard for you, more or less. Why, should I be nervous?“
He snorts. That’s his girl. “No.”
You hum, picking at the Velcro of his SAS patch. He pauses, watches your face. You’re not anxious, but there’s… something.
“What’s up, buttercup?” he asks, chucking you gently under the chin.
“I…” you pause, hum. Try again. “I don’t like that you’re going out just because of me.”
He frowns, settles on the edge of his bed. You lean with the dip in the mattress, pressing warm and solid against his side.
“I feel like… like I messed up somehow, and now you have to fix it for me.”
He blows out a breath, yanking the mask off. You tilt your head to look at him, eyes soft, the tiniest frown on your face. He peels his glove off too, to cup your cheek. Revels in the warmth and smooth skin against his scars and callouses, always a little surprised when you lean into it.
“I’d get you world peace if you asked for it,” he replies.
“You’d be out of a job,” you half-joke.
“You are my job, daft thing.” He shakes his head, leans in until he can thunk his forehead gently against yours. “You’re what brought me back from the grave. Knew I still had work to do, that you still needed taking care of.”
You sniffle a bit. Always do when he digs up the words to remind you how much you mean to him. Not that he thinks you ever doubt it. How could you? But sometimes, he thinks, it bears repeating.
“You haven’t made a mess, luv. But even if you did, I’m always right here with a mop, yeah?”
He’d burn alive just to keep you warm. Drown to fetch you a glass of water. Anything, everything. Just so long as you’re still here, still his.
“I’ll take care of this and then come home to you. Due for a holiday anyway.”
You close your eyes, a faint little smile tilting your lips. He can’t look away. Never can.
“We can go on that camping trip you’ve been talking about,” you say.
“Yeah, luv. Toast marshmallows like the old days.”
You hum, a proper smile finally blooming across your face.
“Okay,” you murmur. “Promise you’ll come back. Both of you.”
“Promise. Be good for Price while I’m gone.”
You open your eyes, a mischievous sparkle in them. “We’ll see.”
You see him off on the tarmac, serene and assured. Stripped of faith and belief, there is one certainty in your life, always and forever. And it’s Simon. He’s going to come home to you, because he promised he would.
“Raise hell, Si.”
“Already raised the dead,” he muses, hell shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Aye, I’ve got just the C-for it.”
You groan at the joke, but don’t deny Johnny a parting hug and peck on the cheek. “Look out for each other.”
“Will do, hen.”
You don’t hug or kiss Simon. Don’t need to, you’ve said your goodbyes. You squeeze his hand and then step back as he heads for the plane with Johnny chattering all the way.
“Alright, little miss?” Price asks when it’s just the two of you.
“Always,” you reply, turning to smile at him.
You have to be, for Simon.
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ghouljams · 11 months
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Cowboy time.
Ghost doesn't let you call him his name. It's his last line of defense against you and your intolerable ability to get under his skin. It drives you crazy. He introduces himself to everyone in town as Simon and yet you are forced to keep him at arms length. Even though he had you screaming his name when you first met him, if you so much as attempt to call him "Simon" he shuts it down immediately. You think he knows it bothers you too, but you're both too stubborn to bring it up.
Well that's just fine with you, you don't want to call him Simon anyway.
He really lives up to his call sign following you around town while you run errands. You didn't want to invite him but your dad insisted you needed an escort. Which Ghost thinks was a smart idea watching the way you lean over the counter and flirt with the shop keeper at every stop to try and get discounts. It takes everything in him to not throw you over his shoulder and haul you away from the lecherous stares those men fix you with.
It takes two stores for him to crack, and it's the puppy eyes you fix him with when you see the newly hatched chicks at the supply store. "Be good," he tells you, checking the neat little list you fixed for him against bags of feed.
"But look how cute they are," you pout, scooping up a chicken to show him. He glances at you, unamused.
"I've seen cuter," he hauls a bag of feed over his shoulder like it weighs nothing, "Be good and I'll give you a reward when we're done."
You roll your eyes and settle the chick back under the heat lamp, feeling Ghost close behind as you make your way to the counter to negotiate price. As soon as you start to flirt you feel Ghost's glare, hear his warning growl. You sigh and try to rely on whatever good will you have in town. It doesn't work as well. You'll have to redo you budgets if this keeps up, but you're good if only so you can see what Ghost has thought up as a reward.
When you finally finish all your shopping Ghost loads the truck, glaring at every other guy who offers a hand. You tug the cab door open and he reaches past you to shut it, leaning close.
"So you're just being a full on dick now?" You ask, turning to lean against the truck, trying to act like having him so close doesn't make your heart start to beat out of your chest.
"You want your reward or not? " He asks, tipping his head to one side, a brow raised like you're the one being difficult. You narrow your eyes at him, almost wishing you'd gotten the deals you wanted now.
"Depends on what it is"
"Eyes closed," you sigh and close your eyes, "open your mouth."
"You want me to get on my knees too?" You can't help the sarcastic comment, but Ghost is close enough you can almost feel his shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.
"Just open it."
You huff, and open your mouth, sticking out your tongue for good measure. Just to tease him. You feel him move, hear the rustle of fabric and then... and then.
His fingers press up against your jaw, holding you in place with a rough hand around your throat as his tongue slides against yours, licking once to edge it into his mouth, lips closing around the wet muscle before his tongue darts out again to lick into your mouth. Hot and insistent as he kisses you filthy, all tongue and teeth. He makes your head spin, your fingers twist into his shirt for something to hold onto. Ghost pulls away too soon, his tongue replaced by something hard and honeyed.
He's already walking away when you open your eyes, mask fixed back in place as he circles the truck to open the passenger door and climb in. You wonder which was the reward, the kiss or the sucker. You're still mad at him as you climb in and start up the truck.
"So... Si-"
"Nope."
You pout the rest of the way home.
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yuri-is-online · 5 months
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The Tower Stairs: Rollo Flamme
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"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City." The words should not be bouncing around in your brain like a screensaver, hitting on the edges left by overblot after overblot. You wish Vil was here to remind you that not everyone who hurt you had been so callous in the aftermath.
But he's not. The only one here who is willing to point out the wrongs is Rollo. Are you wrong for being tempted to let him take advantage of that?
notes: This is fucking 10,225 words and only lightly proofread, sorry. they/them used for Yuu, SPOILERS FOR ALL OF GLORIOUS MASQUERADE, light references to events surrounding overblots, non-consensual drugging and possible Stockholm syndrome, Yuu feels isolated and Rollo has an idea just hear him out. Lots of toxicity all around please be advised This is technically part of a series, the first part features Azul. If you like those consider checking out my masterlist.
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Two sentences.
Two students will be sent as attendants to the invited mages.  One monster and one magicless human, approximate measurements attached per your request.
Two sentences barely acknowledging your existence and that was it; the foolish mage in charge of Night Raven hadn't even thought to include a name or photograph (the monster got the same treatment but he could not really bring himself to care as much about that) and he hadn't even made notes about food preferences or allergies.  The attached note was a post-it scrawled in the most haphazard and uncaring handwriting that he needs to take a brief moment to breathe, turning away from his desk to throw another log on the fire and breath in the soothing scent of the smoke.  He doesn't even know what their favorite color is, those poor fools will have to make a guess while they obsess over what costume to throw at them. 
Costume.  His eyebrows twitch as he brings the handkerchief to his nose, the smoke no longer enough to distract from his disgust.  Breathe in, the gentle aroma of rosemary and lavender brings clarity though solace remains tentatively hanging in the bell tower along with all of his hopes, breathe out.  He dares not risk ruining the foolish surprise by asking, but he makes sure to take a nice sheet of paper and properly write out the notes on their measurements neatly, tacking it to the top of the stack where it belongs.  This festival was always meant to be for the virtuous, and while he may not know them, what he has seen of the others guarantee them to be the best of the lot.  The bell dutifully rings out the evening toll and Rollo takes one last look at those two sentences.  He pities you; that's the explanation he reaches for the pain searing in his chest.
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~~~~
Halloween feels more like Christmas with how big of a deal all your friends are making of it, and you really lack the words to explain how strange that makes you feel.  It's not a bad sort of strange you suppose as you twirl a little of the thickly embroidered fabric in between your fingers.  Festivities bring good food, an excuse to avoid classwork, and a way to guise showing affection under holiday obligation; it's just a bit odd to see it cloaked in orange, blacks, and pumpkin carvings and not pine needles and nutmeg.  But all of these thoughts are irrelevant, meant to try and distract you from the waiting crowd outside and the social you've been pawned off on.  You take a deep breath, trying to focus on how excited Grim sounds and how cute you know he will look to avoid the terror of being seen.
"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."
Your eyes meet Rollo’s before you shamefully turn to your friends, disappointment flashing through you with just how impassive his gaze remains despite the beauty of the costume.  It’s just a stupid “crush” on a guy who if you in your right mind you would insist looked ugly.  A real choice example of “guy you didn’t know magic could invent,” 18 going on 80, someone who if you had admitted out loud to wanting to get to know better as a friend you would be judged heavily for.  And if you are being honest with yourself it isn’t even really a crush, it’s just your stupid brain firing off a bunch of dopamine at someone offering you a genuine break and some sympathy for the troubles he assumed you’d been through.  Vil remembered.  The tiny, tired voice of reason tried to do its job at the back of your skull.  It is probably very dark and lonely back there.  Maybe guys from the Shaftlands are just built different.  Even it was overworked and making concessions.
“It looks like you are wearing matching outfits.”  Deuce’s kind smile brings you out of your head and back to reality.  
“You look like you’re matching with Riddle!”  You say and smile wide when both Deuce and Riddle puff up in pride.
“We both look like proper card soldiers,” Riddle actually bows to the Vice-President, who looks really happy to receive the praise “you must have really put a lot of thought into these.”  
“Glad you noticed!”  You see Rollo pull out that strange handkerchief and inhale as his Vice-President happily chirps away.  “Since your Headmage noted your dormitories we tried to include inspiration from the Great Seven in the costume themes!  The costumes are supposed to respect tradition, and your school has some too, we figured ‘why not combine them?’”  
“Where’d mine come from then?”  Grim doesn’t seem too fussed even though he asks, he must  really like his outfit.  “Yuu and I are the only ones who care about our dorm.”
“Yes the… note provided for you was most inadequate.”  Rollo is technically addressing the crowd, but his gaze remains firmly on you.  His eyes are beautiful, green and blue swirling in what you delusionally swear is a gentle dark gray frame that will dull and snap back to firm disinterest once he returns to your seniors.  “As such I suggested the capes but these two came up with the rest.”
“We went with purple and black since those are both NRC and NBC colors.”  The VP gives you what should be a confident thumbs up that you barely pay attention to, still caught up in the intensity of Rollo’s gaze.  
“Thank you.”  You barely manage to break away from it and miss the way Rollo seems to somehow stand taller, even if he does not say-
“You’re welcome!” The vice-president and aide continue to glow with everyone’s praise.  “We really hoped you would like them.”  
You can barely hear their words over your focus on him.  If he feels the weight of your gaze he doesn't flinch, nor does he acknowledge it, leaving Trein’s voice to cut through your stupor, startling you with an expectation of disappointment or trouble.  But it isn’t there, he simply seems concerned, and thankfully not with you.  You cannot say the same of your classmates, but then again you had also forgotten the headache you got listening to them argue over their fieldwork group names.  Seriously, how old were Azul and Idia again?  And you aren’t going to think about Malleus right now, the ibuprofen Trey had helped you pack was with your luggage not the pockets of your costume. 
“What will Yuu be doing?”  Rollo is as impassive as ever, but he once again looks at you as he asks, as if he expects you to be a part of the conversation.  How cute.
“Yuu and Grim will be with me.”  Trein turns to scold your friends and though you expect Rollo to follow, or maybe excuse himself to his duties he does not.
“Are you alright with this arrangement?”  He asks.
“Oh we discussed it before we got here.”  You rush to pacify, which startles Rollo more than soothes him.  “As long as Grim gets to eat a bunch of stuff we’ll be fine.”  If anything it will probably keep him distracted from causing trouble to keep bouncing back and forth between the groups, but you don’t say that outloud. 
“Yeah!”  Grim cheers, excited by the mention of his name if nothing else.  “This place has got all sorts of great food right?! Riddle was tellin me all about it.” Rollo seems displeased, the handkerchief comes out from his pocket but he doesn’t hold it up to his face yet, choosing instead to focus on your eyes.
“I wasn’t asking about Grim.”  Your little friend begins to make noises of protest, but they quiet as he looks back and forth between you both.  But if Rollo has more to say he is forced to keep it to himself.
“Human!”  Sebek’s shout demands your attention and you see Rollo finally lift his arm to take the deepest breath yet into his handkerchief.  “You had better not plan on keeping Lord Malleus waiting!  Have you already forgotten he specifically requested you accompany his group?!?!”  You haven’t, but you know Sebek won’t hear that.  
“Sorry, duty calls!” You give your best elegant bow and are rewarded with a genuine smile.
“Yes, for both of us.”  He watches, with a strange look in his eyes as you flicker out of his view like a wisp of smoke.
~~~~ “I was worried when Sebek started arguing and insisting that he join Malleus’s group… But honestly, I’m glad he has a proper guard.”  Jamil does seem significantly less stressed than he usually does, which in turn relaxes you.
“Of course, Malleus’s safety will always be my first priority!”  Sebek is all smiles and pride as the conversation continues towards what direction to start your tour, you find your mind wanting to join in the conversation but finding yourself unable to really contribute.  Grim is similarly distressed.
“I thought this was Group 1,” he wisely chooses to whine to you and not Trien, “not Group BORING.”
“We’ve got to respect their wishes.”  You say, wishing only slightly he wasn’t wearing such a dapper hat.  You miss scratching his ears.  “Besides, historic spots make for great tourist destinations.  You are worried you won’t get any food, right?  I won’t let that happen.”
“Most of the places I know of aren’t on tourist maps.”  Trien corrects gently, but his small smile lets you know he does not mean to come off as reprimanding.  “But Yuu is correct, Grim, there will be plenty of places to feed you as we check on the other groups.”
“Well then what are we waitin’ around for!  Let’s get cracking!”  Grim’s little shout and face is so deathly serious you can’t help but snap a brief picture on your phone, as you walk slowly between Riddle and Jamil.
“So,”  a relaxed Jamil might be a rare sight, but this teasing look is not “what did President Rollo want to talk to our little attendant about?”
“I was wondering that as well.”  Riddle asks much more earnestly, which gets the squirming reaction from you Jamil had been trying to provoke.  “He wasn’t being rude was he?  An insult to one NRC student is a slight to our whole school.”
“Oh I’m sure he was very personal.”  Laughs Jamil and you try to pass off your embarrassment with a cough.
“He just wanted to know what group Grim and I were going with.”  It has got to be enough of the truth to get Jamil to drop it, but as you turn yourself back towards Trien you are surprised to find him smirking.
“Yes, Mr. Flamm was very concerned with knowing your whereabouts.”  He has the decency to shoot Jamil a stern glance when he cackles, but the teasing point has still been made.  You have been seen (for once, the tiny voice argues, when there is something to use against you.)  Thankfully Malleus and Riddle still seem blissfully unaware of what is being implied, if anything Malleus seems deeply pleased at the mention of Rollo.
“I’m glad he was willing to invite us both.”  It is hard to ignore the puff to his chest that comes with the word invitation, your tired inner voice retreats replaced with a genuine smile.
“Me too, Tsunotarou.  It’s nice to be able to take a vacation.”  You should be concerned that Trien has led you into what appears to be a sewer alley, but the soothing melody of the river to your left drowns out all worries and Sebek’s misery at being the sole mage to have done zero research.  Well maybe not the sole mage, just the only one without a collar.
“Hey Yuu,” Grim whispers, “did ya think at all about what Rollo said earlier?”
“About relaxing?”  Please, don’t let Grim get in on teasing you too.  You don’t want to live in a world where he is more socially conscious than Riddle.
“No!  Well kinda.  I mean about what ya wanted to do.”  Grim does occasionally have serious thoughts.  “N-not that I really care or anythin, just y’know.”  Not that he ever outright admits to thinking them.  This one has him so embarrassed he starts yelling at Sebek to give up on thinking before he can hear your answer, giving you time to actually think on one.
It is a relatively easy answer, the same you always have whenever you get the opportunity to leave campus.  You want to look for a way home, but how exactly do you go about doing that?  Maybe Rollo would know this water sort of reminds you of his eyes, tired, he looks so tired but when he was able to talk to you he seemed to relax and now you hate yourself even more than you had earlier.  You force yourself to stand up at a normal pace and rejoin the conversation, as if the painful spike of emotion that a new crush brings isn’t actively wrecking your heartbeat.
~~~~
Yuu.  The name of the student attendant is Yuu, Rollo was already making amendments to the lines as soon as he confirmed that, but your conversation began to muddle his own corrections with unnecessary feeling.  He doesn’t understand it, the strange pull he is feeling towards you; Rollo assumed at first was fanned by his hatred of those awful mages, the inherent desire to soothe you all feels justified but no… he knows that feeling, or at least he thinks he does.  He feels it every time he sees a magicless citizen of his city think about just how much better their life could be, but that emotion has grown dull, this desire burns him.  Even now as he tries desperately with fragrant herbs and the gentle lull of the river the intoxicating glow of relief in their eyes blazes in his soul.
"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."
It was generic, there was so much more he should have said.  But what could he offer you?  You're not a mage, you have every right to be wary of him.  To refuse his help would be understandable.
“And I hope the rest of you will enjoy the social.”
The thought of the social finally succeeds in sobering him, he runs though his plans once more in his head as he sees the outline of one of those detestable NRC clowns looking over the various bakeries, clearly inept at choosing where to go.  And once again those thoughts flicker briefly back to you, not that Rollo trusts mages to do anything other than pursue their own interests, but he had hoped somewhat foolishly when he had read the word “attendant” that some care would be taken for your preferences and safety.  But clearly he was mistaken, and how he loathes the thought of his plans being anything less than perfect.  The handkerchief goes back into his pocket and his hand brushes up against a tiny bottle.  Dreamer’s Rest such a mundane name for a poison.  It is, no it was meant to be a precaution, but now, as he idly holds the crystal bottle up to the sunlight, a new thought takes shape in his mind.  It is magic, something he despises and believes should not exist, but if he could convince you to drink it… 
Quickly he shoves the thought and the bottle back into his robes, forcing himself towards Ashengrotto’s group hoping the new temptations will disappear.
They do not, as amusing the thought of them purchasing souvenirs is. 
“What’s so surprising about that?”  The look on Azul’s face as he speaks does suggest offense, but that he has cause to be at all sharpens Rollo’s resolve.  “That’s generally what you do with gifts, yes.  What do you two take me for?”  Exactly what he wants them too, Rollo supposes seeing how quickly Deuce and Epel jump to praise him and completely miss Azul’s muttered expectation of compensation.  The three continue to speak of utterly irrelevant topics.
“Certainly.”  He folds his hands and takes the first opportunity to excuse himself.  Azul is a merchant and these two are dumb as rocks, he has nothing to worry about here.  “I’ll take my leave then-”
“Oh before you go!”  Deuce has an infuriatingly cheerful smile on his face for someone who has just interrupted him. “I wanted to thank you.  For including Yuu I mean.”  Azul pushes his glasses up onto his face, curious, it would appear his reactions are being watched, but that this sentiment from Deuce is not unexpected.  “I was really worried you Nobel Bell guys would see them as an inconvenience or a burden since it’s supposed to be a mage’s social and all and they aren’t a mage, you have no idea how relieved I was you had costumes for them and Grim.  I was really happy they got to come!”  
“Yeah!”  Epel’s smile could be described as cute if he wasn’t such a talented mage.  “We’re going to have so much fun at the social together, I can’t wait.”
“Of course.”  Rollo smiles in spite of himself, if he was less focused on making his exit he would have realized he had been since the first mention of Yuu’s name.  “I will continue to ensure they… are allowed to relax while here.” How disappointing, Rollo thinks, that these mages see inclusion of their supposed friend to be a point in his favor.  It’s almost enough to make him laugh, but then he swears he sees your face before him, eyes agleam with wonder and suddenly words lose all meaning.  The handkerchief comes out as he makes his way back to his tasks, the sooner they are done the more of an excuse he can make to see you again.  “Now if you all will excuse me, I have to get back to checking on the other groups.”  It wouldn't do to keep his flowers waiting after all.
Azul frowns deeply for just one moment.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  His face returns to stoic calculation, but he still asks.
“Why?”  Deuce is so genuinely confused it really does make Azul hurt for Riddle.
“... no reason.”  Yet anyway.”  
~~~~
For a creature so gluttonous Grim sure does love to play with his food, it would be cute to watch him catch grapes in his mouth if you weren’t walking through such a busy intersection looking for Azul’s group.  “You need to be more careful.”  You fuss, taking advantage of Trien’s pause to check his maps to gently poke Grim’s nose.  He sneezes.
“Ya don’t have ta worry so much,” he huffs as if he isn’t pleased with the attention “the Great Grim isn’t able to choke.”  
“Heh your friend doesn’t seem to think so.”  Rollo’s laugh is as smug as it is startling, you swear you jump halfway out of your skin.  He moves to follow you, a noise of startled surprise sending pinpricks up your arms in delight.
“Rollo!  Sorry I didn’t see you.”  Great now he has to think you’re stupid, of course you didn’t see him Yuu!  He clearly just got here!  “Is everything ok?  No one causing you any trouble?”  You have to bite your tongue not to add from my school because who else would be doing that.  
“Nothing’s happened you need to worry over.”  Rollo folds his hands, those water grey eyes ripple with emotion reminding you of your reflections at the riverside earlier. " I simply saw you and decided to come over and see how your tour was progressing so far.”
“It’s goin great!”  Grim hugs his bunch of grapes close to his chest.  “Yuu’s been gettin me all sorts of yummy grub.”
“... it is heartwarming to see how caring Yuu is towards you.”  His smile suggests genuine amusement, and your heart warms with pride.  “But I am curious, have you gotten to do everything you wanted to?  Is there still something you wish to see?”  Rollo says it so passively, as if it wasn't a natural question to ask.  It is, you suppose, a natural question if 
“I’m sorry?”  Rollo’s eyes haven’t once left yours, there is no mistaking he intended to speak directly to you and yet… 
“This is an experience for you too, yes?”  Rollo looks sad you think, but you try to remind your rapidly increasing heart rate that you have only just met so you have no idea if that is true.  “I have some time before I am needed, if your Professor allows it-”
“Of course I will.”  Trien’s voice causes you both to jump, free from whatever strange aura you constantly find in each other’s presence.  There is a strange glint in his eyes, almost nostalgic as he takes Grim from your arms and nods towards Rollo.  “There are a few places I can think of that might be of interest to Yuu specifically, but I’m sure you will be much more up to date with what’s practical.”  You expect him to wait, to confirm just where it is Rollo wants to take you off to but no.  If anything he practically skips away from you with pep that you swear should strain his back.
“I’m so sorry he just left like that.”  You say quietly, and to your surprise Rollo laughs.  The stern look that had been so fixed into your mind since this morning is kinder now, he actually looks like a young man now, the aura of nobility around him seeming to come more from some hidden self confidence you suppose all mages have tucked somewhere.
“There’s no need, I’m sure it would have been much more embarrassing if he stayed.”  Rollo says it so matter of factly you almost believe him.  “So just what was it you wanted to see?”
“Is there a place where-” you eagerly start before flustering with the weight of trying to explain what exactly it is you are looking for.  “Why” will be even harder, emotionally if nothing else.  “Is there any place I could do some research I guess?  Like on really obscure myths and history.”  It was clearly not the question Rollo was expecting, but he does have an answer ready.  
“There is a book store I am fond of across from the main school building, assuming you don’t mind walking back that way?”  
“Not at all.”  You remain trapped in your strange silence, though Rollo does not quite seem to mind.  He easily begins to guide you back towards the school, the tension you had previously associated with him never once returning to his face.
“Do you enjoy reading about mythology?”  He asks as soon as the crowd thins a little.
“Yes.”  Your answer is quieter than he’d like, as if you are questioning the sincerity of your own interests.  “You can tell a lot about what people value by looking at the stories they tell and besides… I just like stories.”  
“What sort?”  The question isn’t sharp, so you silently curse yourself for jumping.  “I apologize if I am coming off as needling you, that wasn't my intention.  As the president of a magic school’s student council I seldom get a chance to speak with… the more sincere members of society.  I am curious about your perspective, you could say I find it important.”
“Why?”  You don’t mean to scoff, but Rollo doesn’t seem phased.  If anything he seems oddly pleased.
“Do you think yourself unimportant?”  The stern look he gives is far less severe than what had been aimed at your classmates, but is still disarming.  “I meant what I said before.  I understand if you find it tiring to be around me as well, but I promise you need only to speak if I am exhausting you.”
“No!”  His pleased smile grows as you try desperately to center your thoughts.  “You haven’t been exhausting me at all, I just- wasn’t expecting the question.”  Rollo’s contented laugh sears you right to your soul, so beautiful and strong and so clearly meant only for you to hear.  You are spared further embarrassing thoughts as you finally reach your destination and he reaches for the shop’s door.
“After you, Yuu.”  Bless the shop bell for ringing you back to reality, and the smell of old books finally luring you away from Rollo’s grasp.
~~~~
There is a peaceful, eager joy about your expression that Rollo tries desperately to write into his memory.  This is how you should look all the time, unburdened by the weariness existing next to magic and mages that undoubtedly piles on you.  His relief flickers slightly as he wonders, unpleasantly, just what it is you think of him and his faults.  Is he truly responsible for your joy now?  And if he is… just what does he need to do to keep it?  He is suddenly heavily aware of the bottle in his pocket, and Grim’s words from earlier begin to suggest an ill formed plan that drives him to speak.
“Have you had anything to eat yet?” he whispers in spite of himself, but you do not seem displeased with his interruption. 
“Idia bought me some grape juice, but other than that not really.”  And yet you have been feeding your companion like some sort of saint.  
“There’s a small cafe attached to this store…”  There is no going back if he says this, there are a million things that should be at the front of his mind but the only thing he can bring himself to worry over is what you will think of him once it is done.  “Would you like something from it?”  You pause scanning the book you are holding and reach towards your pocket, but he catches your hand as gently as he can before pulling back worried he has overstepped.  “I’ll pay for it, please don’t worry yourself.” 
“I can’t ask you to do that!”  So you squeak but your stomach seems to disagree with the strange noise it makes.
“Then don’t.”  He cannot help but smile as he says it.  Cute.  He thinks that is the word he wants to use.  You have his entire attention.  “Just tell me what you would like.”  He half expects you to continue denying yourself, but no.  You murmur a bashful request, and he promises to meet you at the front of the store once he has gotten you something.  He almost believes in his own good intentions until his hand touches the bottle in his pocket as he tries to think.  This… impulse is not his fault.  You will be in danger if he does not act, he needs to find a way to keep you safe from the downfall of those mages who surround you.
There is a selection of fruit and cheese that catches his eye, there is a small dish of honey meant to be paired with some apples.  Dreamer’s Rest has no taste, just one bite from any of these would grant you the relaxation you deserved.  This is a conscious decision he is making, if he commits there will be no way to take it back.  He can beg you to see his reason, but would you listen?  It’s insidious how little visible effect magic leaves on something, nothing looks different or dangerous, the food he is holding just looks like food.
“Have you ever heard of someone traveling between worlds before?”  Rollo should be concerned with how tuned in to your voice he is, how quickly he completes his task and takes himself, with noticeably lighter pockets, back to the front of the store and the tables set next to the front counter.
“Are you sure you don’t mean continents?”  The shopkeep seems confused, but Yuu seems strangely determined.  Desperate even.
“No, worlds.  Like different realities or dimensions.”  You try again.  “Maybe something about liminal spaces?”  That just makes them laugh.
“Oh no, if you’re interested in those sorts of things you’ll need to look at the science fiction section!  Magical travel between different ‘worlds’ is so utterly preposterous, I’m sure Monsieur Rollo will be able to explain to you why.”  You look devastated, as if what has been said is a personal slight.  He lacks the ability to describe just what it is he is feeling now, there is a wariness to how he looks over you he doesn’t like.  There is no reason to doubt your virtue, you have no magic.  So why then,would you be so interested in what would undoubtedly be such a career defining feat for any mage, why act distraught as if you are so intimately acquainted with the subject?  You cannot look at him as he gently guides you to the table, can’t speak even.  It is as if the dismissal has robbed you of your appetite.
“Technically speaking if we had proof another reality existed,” he takes care to breathe in the comforting scents of his kerchief, watching you for any sign of motive “it would not be a matter of science fiction.  As we lack that, however, most statistical models make such a thing out to be quite impossible.  Teleportation magics such as the Dark Mirror at Night Raven possess are already quite rare and subject to stringent regulation, it stands to reason the ability to travel across reality would be much more rare.”
“I see.”  You are quiet, yet unflinching under his scrutiny in a way that makes him want to scream.  There is no reason for you to be so resigned to him, it should be the other way around.  He should be afraid of your judgment, your wrath, not your rejection as you pick idly at the fruits.  “You must think I’m very silly.”  You whisper.
“I think you are not telling me something.”  He whispers as well, trying to sound sincere and sympathetic.  “That your friends and teachers did not tell me something.”  His body moves of its own accord, he stands and places his hands on your shoulders in what he hopes is a gentle manner; you look up to him with a strangely hopeful expression.  It is as if you see him as some source of light, unaware of its hellish source.  “My judgment is fair, so please, unburden yourself while you are here.”  While you can be safe in his arms.
“If I said,” your voice quivers “if I said I did have proof of a different reality.  One where magic didn’t exist.”  He inhales sharply, a new scent worming itself among his affirmations alongside the resurgence of the pain from when he first read those two accursed lines.  “If I was somehow taken from such a place, and wanted to find a way back, would you believe me?”
“Yes.”  There is disbelief in your eyes, but really how could he reach any other explanation for this grip you have on his soul?  The reasoning, as implausible as other scholars would decry it, made a degree of sense.  Why else would such a wretched institution like Night Raven allow for someone so pure to exist in their presence, to say nothing of being allowed to attend as a student?  The best solution, no matter how improbable, is the simplest one, and what a beautiful solution this admission is.
“I don’t know how I got here really, I just sort of showed up at orientation and the headmage hasn’t done mu- I mean he hasn’t really found any promising leads about how to send me back.  That was his excuse for sending me to the social.  He thought that since maybe your academy is also really old and has so many traditions that maybe one of you would know how to send me home.”  Slowly, so slowly it almost burns, Rollo moves his right hand from your arm to fetch something from his pocket.  The large ruby of his ring reflects the dull light of the lamps as he runs just the edge of his handkerchief under your eye, letting his thumb massage the tear towards it.  The comforting blend of rosemary and lavender that invades your senses explains why he keeps it so close to his nose, but those are not the scents that soothe you.  There is an undercurrent, brought by his sleeves and the way his eyes follow the curve of your cheek and stay unintentionally on your lips, of wood smoke and ink that can’t come from anyone but him, who in their right mind would burn something in a bookstore?
“You can speak poorly of him here.”  There is an undercurrent of authority to his voice that should scare you.  Rollo has always looked directly at you, that dark gray blue inviting you to bathe in his light has never once thought of you as the other.  Perhaps because he is too busy looking at your classmates like they are lesser, a thought that you should perhaps pay more mind. “No one is going to carry what you say back to them, I promise.  You poor thing…”  It is all you can do to not collapse into his arms and cry.  It should be condescending, this way he is looking at you.  “It’s cruel to keep you like this.”  Who he is speaking to you don’t know, there is an unspoken aura over you both, an aura of agreement that he could be as cruel as he likes.  Idly, as if he does not fully understand what he is doing, Rollo removes his hand shakily, returning his handkerchief to his pocket, only breaking eye contact with you to eye the abandoned apple slices on the table next to you.  “Are you still hungry?”  He is asking you a question, but it’s not the one he’s voiced.
“Yes.”  You want him to kiss you, but that doesn’t seem to be what he intends to do.  Instead he dips one of the apple slices into the honey and carefully, purposefully lifts it up to your lips.  Wordlessly, he places the slice on your tongue and continues to hold it as you bite down, watching as you chew and closing the gap as you swallow.
His kiss burns, searing you with question and confirmation that this strange attraction is as destructive as it is mutual.  “I have to take you back now.”  He breathes the words close to your lips as you breathe in the smoke of his robes, deeply trying desperately to center yourself.
Your walk back is as quick as it is silent.
~~~~
“Ahh child of man!  Good to have you back, come sit with us.”  Mallues pats the seat beside him expectantly and you gladly settle, much to the chagrin of Sebek who immediately begins howling in protest.  Grim makes similar noises when Azul suggests he sit in yours, but it has much less of an impact when he's voicing them from your lap already.  You breathe deeply, looking around at the sights and sounds of what looks to be a carnival.  Someone walks on a tightrope, there are acrobats tumbling around on the ground, and the whole thing really sparkles with wonder and excitement that feels like magic even before you see the sparks.  It is something that should excite you, but for some reason the more you try to focus on the colors, the more you try to look around the more things begin to blur together.  Perhaps it’s all the walking around you did today but you are beginning to feel extremely tired.  
“And you are all content with such trivial feats of magic?”  Malleus scoffs next to you and you frown deeply, this dance is already impressive. How could this be made better by making it louder?  Maybe he is confused because it isn’t like Briar Valley festivals.
“You could totally upgrade those.”  Snarks Idia.  Never mind, maybe your friends were just dicks.  At least you manage to get some revenge on Idia by making him dance a little with you, no matter how sluggish you feel.  Though it admittedly feels less like revenge when Idia decides to be a responsible senior and guide you back to your seat.  “Are you sure you should be standing up?”  He doesn’t even sound like he is asking the question because he wants an excuse to be anti-social, Idia looks genuinely worried.
“I’m ok, promise.”  you try to grin and bear your way through it but a quick yell for your attention from Grim and the burst of magical fireworks that follow quickly re-directs what little energy you have left.
“Grim, using magic like that in a public place is a bad idea.”  Your scolding is drowned out by other, louder scolds and a spiral into everyone setting off fireworks.  The noise and lights pound your skull with painful overstimulation.  Cautiously, Rollo moves closer to you, concern clear on his face.  
“Are you alright?”  He asks, moving to take your temperature and not finding anything wrong, the only heat you feel is running up your spine from a desperate desire for him to be closer.  You swear you hear someone, Malleus you think, calling for you to join the festivities, but the strange tiredness working its way through your limbs has reached your ears and is beginning to dull the noise around you.  Rollo does not move, he stares down at you intently watching as you dazedly try to stand.  “... Magic is such a troublesome thing, wouldn’t you agree Yuu?  I can only imagine what you have been subjected to, between being stolen from your world and being surrounded by a gaggle of rambunctious foolhardy mages.”  You want to laugh, tell him he doesn’t know the half of it, but your tongue feels like lead in your mouth.  “Worry not- this state of affairs shan’t last much longer.”  Something about his voice worms its way to the back of your skull, maybe it’s the day’s exercise, maybe it’s the noise and lights overstimulating your brian, but you are finding it harder and harder to keep opening your eyes as you blink and try to focus on what Grim is telling you.  He is tugging on your cape and jumping up and down, he has something he wants to say.  He is proud of himself, he has that genuine non-smug happy smile Grim reserves only for you when he wants your praise, and you so desperately want to see what it is he wants to show you.  But you’re tired, so very very tired.  It’s so much effort to keep your eyes open.   So you stop struggling, your eyes close and you feel yourself fall, and conveniently (too conveniently Azul notes pushing his glasses against his nose) Rollo is there to catch you.  “Yuu!”  Grim’s voice finally breaks through the fog, it’s panicked and you feel some worry bubbling up in the sane part of your mind when you realize you can’t move your hand to reassure him you are ok.
Aren’t you tired?  Don’t you want to rest?  Rest here in the City of Flowers?
“Is the noise bothering you?”  Rollo asks quietly, so quietly you wonder if anyone else can hear him other than you.  “Would you like to return to the school?”
“That might be for the best.”  Trien’s hand is cool against your forehead, his voice filled with concern.  “Would you object to taking them back, Rollo?”  You feel Rollo bend to reach under your knees and lift you so high you practically feel like you are flying.  A smile flutters onto your face; his embrace is one of safety and relaxation, with a tender caress from his thumb along your thigh that reminds you of the kiss from earlier.  
“There's no need for that,” Azul tries to attract Idia's attention subtlety “one of us would be more than happy to-”
“That's quite alright.”  Rollo doesn't even bother looking at him as he settles you further into his arms, for a brief moment your eyes open and refocus up at your… captor you suppose.  You know the sound of Azul’s worries, and though you haven’t known Rollo for near as long you think (delusionally, the tired voice is regaining its reason.  This is delusion, madness we are throwing ourselves onto a pyre-) you are beginning to recognize his.  There is worry in his gaze, solely focused on you, from the moment you met him he has been considerate and focused on you in a way that should worry you.  Trien does not seem to share your faith in Azul, you think based on the way Rollo begins to move away from the crowd towards the blissful quiet that he has decided to place his bet on the wrong mage, just as you are about to.
“I am going to trust you.”  You whisper, so slowly you wonder if Rollo even knows what it is you are saying.  If he does, he says nothing aloud, but his steps begin to pick up speed.
~~~~
Fire.  There is a fire to your left you think, the wood crackles pleasantly and gives this strange dream a cozy feel.  Your entire body feels heavy, you can barely open your eyes or move a finger, but you don't seem to be bound to this chair, you can't really seem to motivate yourself to move from it.  Someone's head is resting on your lap, their hands are shaking.
“Forgive me.”  Rollo is whispering, but there is an excitement to his voice.  You realize you have no idea how long you have been sleeping, or even where you are as your eyes open and try to adjust to the dimly lit room around you.  The stonework reminds you of the bell tower from your tour of the school, but you don’t remember seeing this room or the grand fireplace you flinch away from.  “I’m just another mage causing problems for you at the end of the day, no matter how proud I am of my virtues.”  
You manage to lift your head just enough to look down, Rollo’s head is indeed lying in your lap, his giant hat has been placed on the table just next to you, and though there is indeed triumph in his voice the expression on his face is painful.  “No matter how hard I try to better myself, I am still a mage.  I am still filled with evil and I am still forced to use that evil to pass judgment.  I couldn’t even save you without resorting to it.  I wonder just how much you would hate me if you knew…”  His eyes flutter open, gently, much too gently for someone you are slowly starting to realize likely drugged you and definitely kidnaped you, he kisses the top of your hand.  “Can I ask you for your forgiveness?  Do I even have the right?”  Slowly, with effort such a simple action should not take, you move your hand to his head and carefully run your nails over his scalp.  Rollo groans, eyes raising to meet your bleary ones.
“If I can forgive you for this…” putting you to sleep, taking you away from your friends, Rollo did not strike you as someone who did this without there being another reason, Azul had earlier described him as naive and you are inclined to trust his judgment.  “Can you accept it?”  Rollo closes his eyes briefly, considering his options.
“If I were to tell you there was a way for magic to no longer be an obstacle…”  He says it with such certainty you do not doubt him for a second “that I could free this world of that sickness that elevates people undeserving and unnecessarily, would you forgive me for the pain it would cause?”
“Do you see yourself as sick, Rollo?”  You move your hand just under his chin, gently directing his head back up to look at you.  Rollo grasps your hand as you do, rising from the floor as he places it just above his frantically beating heart.
“Don’t you?”  There is pain in his eyes.  Pain and sorrow just like every friend you have seen overblot except without the touch of inky madness that precedes it.  “Or am I just like your friends at that school?”
“You aren’t like them.”  It’s a lie of sorts, whatever Rollo has done, you strongly suspect, is no worse or better than anything the others have.  But- “Why do you care about me so much?”  You ask, voice cracking under the strain of your confusion.  Rollo tightens his grip on your hand, his heart is hammering against it as if it wants to burst out of his ribcage and intertwine itself with your hand.  But it cannot, so it satisfies itself with Rollo dipping forward to kiss your lips.  Softly once, gently twice he kisses, before all pretense is lost and he moves in tune with you to hold onto your cape desperately and kiss and kiss and kiss deeply before he needs to come up for air.  He dares not move fully away, taking his breaths just above your lips and slowly continuing to kiss along your jaw and just below murmuring his words as prayers indescribable as he does.  
“I don’t know why.”  Rollo groans in self hatred as you let out a tortured cry “Ever since I saw you I’ve been unable to remove you from my thoughts, my mind burns with flaming desire to throw away my plans,”  he bites, his teeth sink slowly as you grasp at his robes and gasp “to get to know you.  What makes you happy, the things that make you laugh and what makes you cry.  I want to know that I can create a place where someone as lovely and filled with light as you does not feel the need to be anything more than themselves.  Where, when there is danger, you are protected.”  This too, this mad man who proudly sucks just one more mark onto your skin, is your Rollo, your Rollo who is so clearly going through something he will not confess to you and lashing out at the world like every other mage you know and yet…and yet he is saying the things you want to hear.  The things you have longed for any other person to say to you as he rests his forehead against yours, lips bruised by yours and yet still not defiled near enough.  
“When magic causes problems, the fallout should not be yours to take.”  And just like that, you don’t care.  Not nearly as much as you should, you should be hitting him not letting him admire his work as you fall back into a chair he didn’t need to bind you to, and certainly not thinking of how much you wish he had.  You should hold him to the same standard you had the others.  “I’ll come back for you.”  It should frighten you, how quick he is to return to the stoic calm you had met him in as he promises you something awful.  “There are things I need to attend to at the top of the tower, but I swear I will come back to you.”  You don’t have to think hard about who those will be, Malleus’s angry shouts of betrayal at the (likely) false invitation aren’t hard to imagine, hopefully he hasn’t hurt anyone.
“Stay safe.”  You hoarsely whisper, and Rollo briefly pauses in his walk to the door.  Whatever he is thinking you aren’t left wondering long, quickly with a speed you didn’t know he had he darts back to press a kiss to your forehead.
“You too, Yuu.”  He says your name with something like love once he returns to the door, his smile shines with it.  It’s not his fault that you want it to be, is it his fault that you doubt him?  If it is not love Rollo feels then what is it?  Just obsession or-
“AHA!”  A familiar voice knocks you out of your thoughts and onto the floor.  “FINALLY I FOUND YA!”
~~~~
“It would seem I have made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment.”  Trien’s understatement should fall flat, but Deuce is too busy bouncing his leg to try and dispel his stress.  “I was too focused on trying to make sure you all were not causing trouble, I neglected to consider outside influences.”  There is no need to guess what he is referring to, there is a noticeable absence among the collected NRC students.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  As if Azul can sense Deuce’s thoughts, he begins to voice his own.
“Be that as it may, I doubt Rollo means to actually harm Yuu.  Almost everything he has said to this point about magicless people seems to suggest he thinks they need to be coddled, not punished.”
“Indeed.”  Jamil nods, eyes closed as if he is thinking really hard about something.  “But  his personal feelings towards Yuu is what makes this concerning, that’s what you are thinking I assume Azul?”  
“Like I said,” Azul tries to ignore the cold sweat gathering at the back of his neck, “I doubt he means to harm them, but that doesn't mean his actions won’t have unintended consequences.  Which is why we need to wrap this up as quickly as possible.”
“The rest of you do that.”  Deuce is surprised by how calm he feels, his best friend is in danger, he should be furious.  But all he feels is an unfamiliar determined calm.  “I’ll go look for Yuu.”
“LOLOL what makes you think you need to do that?”  Idia's laughter does spark a bit of a snarl from him, but Idia doesn't back down.  “If Rollo’s following the classic BBGE playbook, Yuu’s got to be in the Bell Tower yeah?  No need to split off into search parties, the princess is always in the final castle.”
“So there you have it.”  Malleus has been disturbingly quiet ever since Epel pointed out how he destroyed the fire lotuses.  His green eyes haven't once moved from their scorched roots, as if he is attempting to sear his anger into the stones below. “I will crush Rollo Flamm under my heel and bring Yuu back to all of us as whole the day they were taken.”
“Dude it has literally been like an hour.”  Idia shakes his head, but Deuce can't help but agree with Malleus. 
“Hold on Yuu, I promise we'll find you.”
~~~~
“Nyhahahaha!  Take that!”  Grim swats the air as if he's cutting through imaginary ropes.  “All those other losers screamin’ and whining as soon as those flowers started poppin up but not the Great Grim!  I jumped all the way up to where that Rollo guy was hangin out and followed him right here to you!”  The story Grim tells you confirms your worst fears, but soothes some of the lesser ones.  You have no doubt that if anyone can solve the threat of the crimson lotus’s it’s Idia, Azul, and Malleus.  As soon as they were done measuring dicks anyway, for now you only have one real thing on your mind; desperately scrambling forward on the floor to scoop Grim up in your arms and hold him tight.  He's trembling, and your heart begins to beat painfully in your chest as Grim starts to sob.  “I was so worried about you.”
“I'm ok Grim.”  You mean it this time, whatever Rollo fed you has well worked its way through your system and left you with the energy to whip away your beloved monster’s tears.  “A bit sleepy but ok.”
“Of course you're OK the Great Grim's here.”  You contine wipe his nose through his sniffles.  “And now he’s gonna get you out of the tower!  Just like a real hero!”  But his bravado has a slight stutter, and yours is fighting a war with your heart.  Your eyes close as you think of Rollo, at the top of the bell tower fighting to defend his delusions from people who would understand only half of what his problems were.  
“I wish I had met him sooner.”  It wouldn’t have stopped this, but you wonder not for the first or last time what would have happened if the poor mage had just had someone to talk to.
“You don’t wanna go do ya.”  Grim frowns, eyes and ears drooping before he remembers he is supposed to be in charge.   “Well then we can stay.  Why should we go back to the other guys!  Yeah!  Screw ‘em!  Always makin’ us do the hard work while they go and have fun.”
“No it’s ok Grim.”  You stand, making sure to still hold onto him as you stand, carefully at first to make sure you are ok to put weight on your legs.  “If we stay here you will never get to be the world’s greatest mage.”
“Yeah…”  Grim does not perk up when you say that, it’s almost enough to make you break out into a sprint in case he has lost too much of his magic already.  “Ya know… henchuman, I don’t wanna go out there alone.  S’ not fun without you.  I don’t wanna be the greatest mage if I have ta not have you.”  
“...I’m not going anywhere Grim.”  You touch your head to his, like a mother cat trying to comfort her kit.  It’s an empty promise you suppose, with how desperate you are to go home.  But if what Rollo had said about teleportation magic was true… then maybe you would just have to pick a place to make a new home instead.  
The rest of the night is a blur.  Somehow you manage to make it down the tower stairs to Deuce, who nearly has a panic attack when he sees you, and Rook who starts composing a poem in ode to Grim’s bravery that gives him a unneeded ego boost.  They do a much better job of explaining what had happened than Grim had.
About the lotuses.  About the pandemonium in the town, about what Azul and Idia had convinced Malleus to do.
“Please don’t ever get kidnapped again.  Malleus got really scary.”  The look on Deuce’s face suggests you will need to give Tsunotarou a lecture later.  A long, long lecture that you suppose you can make somewhat shorter for how glad you are to hear the Bell of Solace ring out.   And for insisting on Rollo still hold the ball.  Getting to see Silver and Sebek try to toss Ruggie, Jamil, and Idia in the air completely makes getting kidnapped worth it.  But…Your friends have not exactly left you alone since the threat ended.  You know why of course, if one of them had been kidnapped you probably would be doing the same thing, but it’s keeping you from some closure.  For someone who promised to come back for you, Rollo sure seems determined to stay away.  It’s making your expression crumple in sadness behind your mask, something you wonder if he notices at all.
~~~~
“I am so grateful to you for providing me with so many memories.”  Malleus holds tightly onto Rollo’s arm as the music flows across the ballroom, piercing gaze strategically keeping him away from the moonlit balcony you have decided to sequester yourself too.  “But I must say there is one matter I think we have neglected to discuss.”
“And what could that possibly be?”  Rollo snaps, the audacity of these Night Raven fools hurts, all he wishes to do is lick his wounds in peace.
“Why, the matter of your unfortunate attachment to my dearest friend.”  Mallues grins, something like fear is finally flickering behind Rollo’s eyes.  How unfortunate.  “The child of man is precious to me, Flamm.  And more importantly they do not share your views on magic.”
“Have you asked them?”  Rollo replies tersely.  
“Why would we need to do that?”  Azul’s voice smoothly interrupts the private dance, he and Idia move to Rollo’s either side, they certainly look concerned.  Angry even.  If there were not mages Rollo would be pleased you had such dedicated friends.
“Because it’s clear from how little you paid attention to their safety this entire trip that you expect them to constantly come away from your magic abuses unscathed.”  He snaps.  “Tell me, if I hadn’t placed them in the tower, what would have happened to them?  Would you have been considerate of their weaknesses?  Yuu is not invincible, and I am ashamed that I of all people seem to be the only one concerned about their safety.”
“No I don’t think you are.”  Azul says.  “Not in the way you think, anyway.  Yuu is extremely capable, we don’t treat them differently from any other student because we hate them, that’s just silly.  Your entire perception of them is based on a terribly prejudiced first impression, and not one nearly as positive as you seem to think.”
“You can just say he has a creepy purity fetish and go.”  Mutters Idia.
“And completely destroy my credibility?”  Azul has more to say, but it's cut off before he can make his point.
“I agree with Shroud.”  Mallues says, causing both Rollo and Azul to choke.  “His treatment of Yuu is very much in line with cult-like devotion towards a magical artifact.  Extremely ironic given his mission statement, wouldn’t you agree, Ashengrotto?”  
“Oh of course!”  Azul laughs, making sure to step forcefully on Idia’s foot before he can go correcting anyone.  “But perhaps back to my point-”
“You don't have one.”  Mutters Rollo, already bored with the conversation and desperate to find you again, just one more time before this entire failed event is over and he has to return to his plans.
“Yuu is a hard worker, and stubborn too.  They do not need magic to be just as capable of what they do as any mage.”  Azul’s words make him pause, he searches desperately for any sign of deception in them, but there isn’t any there.
“You do realize,” he tries slowly, “that none of those qualities make them able to defend themselves from offensive magic, which your Professor at least seems to think you quite willing to use.”
“I mean yeah.”  Says Idia.  “But like, that’s not what he’s trying to say.  If you only choose a route because it has tropes you like then you aren’t really loyal to that character.  If the only reason you don’t want to hurt Yuu is because they haven’t got magic then you are just as bad as any of us.  And trust me, they’re scary smart.  They’ll know.”  And with that cryptic message, Rollo finally finds himself alone with his thoughts.
Two lines.  The first time he saw you the only thing he knew about you was two lines on a sheet of paper that said literally nothing.  And the longer he stares at you, the more he feels like he is drowning under the weight of how little he still knows.
Yuu is a magicless human from a world without magic.  They like to read about myths and legends from different cultures.  They like their cat monster friend and treat him like a sibling.  There, that’s three lines.
Unbidden, his body begins to move towards the balcony where you are standing.  
What is Yuu’s favorite color, do they like croissants?  Are they allergic to any types of pollen, what is their world like?  Do they have siblings, a family that they miss?
He wants to kiss you again, but properly this time.  Not in the throws of a shared delusion, still maybe in the bell tower, but with your full acceptance.
“May I have your hand?”  Rollo feels more sick at the way your eyes light up than anything Malleus had said about guilt and absolution.
“Of course.”  He does not take you out to the center of the dance floor, he does not flaunt you as a trophy won at your friends expense.  He simply winds his arms around you to hold you scandalously close.  “Rollo, do you mind if I ask you some questions?  About some things that Idia told me…”
“Will you give me your number?”  He thinks there is a different way he is supposed to ask a question like that, a nicer one.  “There are a lot of things I want to talk to you about, but tonight I think I want to savor what it feels like to hold you for as long as I can… as long as you are alright with that.”  You do not say anything in response, instead you lay your head against his chest, ear firm on his heartbeat as you close your weary eyes.  “I meant what I said before.  I want you to think of Fleur City as a place where you can find respite.  Solace.”
“Maybe you should invite me to come back then.”  You say and he closes his own eyes to picture it.  He has other places he can take you, better bookstores, more historic places.  Maybe there is a key to sending you home somewhere in his city and if not-
“Careful, I just might ask you to stay forever.”  There is an unspoken aura over you both.  Gentle, new, and warm in a way that Rollo certainly never thought he would be allowed to experience.  An aura of agreement that in time, that might not be such a bad thing to ask after all.
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faerygrant · 5 months
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knee socks - carmen berzatto x waitress reader
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summary: four discoveries come about your and carmens secret relationship; he’s very into knee socks, you’re acquainted with a staff member he has a tricky relationship with, he can be possessive and weirdly enough he likes being called daddy?
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You’d stayed back last night to help Carmen, despite the raging headache that had caused you to have to take a 30 minute break from waiting tables just to rest your head. Carmen appreciated that, and was not shy in showing you. Once he’d insured everyone had gone home for the night, doors locked and safety measures taken care of, he had come into the office and kissed you softly, before walking you to your apartment. Where things had escalated, resulting in you falling asleep stuffed and sated and Carmy going home with a pair of your panties.
Today however you felt refreshed, you’d woken up at the crack of dawn, showered, threw on your uniform and decided you’d wear a pair of knee socks due to the cold fall weather. You arrived to the usual chaos of The bear, Tina and Sydney getting started on prep, Marcus unloading the batter he’d made the night before and Richie barking orders at your fellow waitstaff about today’s schedule. Carmy however wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so you assumed he was in his office going over stock orders or doing payroll.
“Hey, you look pretty good this morning princess” Rich or Richie to everyone else, whispers into your ears.
“Don’t be gross Rich.” You mumble, grabbing your apron and tying it around your waist as he mockingly smiled back at you.
“Damn can’t even give out compliments anymore.” He throws his hands up in mock self defence.
Your and Richie’s relationship was simple, he was a longtime friend of your brothers and had always been mockingly flirty and playful with you, occasionally you’d reciprocate the flirtyness but it was all in good fun. Carmy however hated it, so much so that he’d ensure he did his best to put a distance between you two most of the time.
As the day went on Carmen would make subtle appearances from the office, coming into the kitchen to help Sydney with recipes she was working on, answering some of Tina’s questions, giving Marcus the green-light on some new dessert ideas, the works. But what you noticed from these appearances were the glances he kept making towards you, or specifically towards your legs. Until it finally hit you, it was the knee socks.
-
Carmen couldn’t think straight with the way you were just casually waiting tables while looking like a goddess. Your uniform clung so nicely to your body, your smile ever so bright and those god damned knee socks. He was convinced you were trying to send him into cardiac arrest. He’d never even known he had a thing for those until today and he wasn’t about to let them go to waste.
carmen 🐻
You busy right now?
you
Kinda, why?
carmen 🐻
Need your help in the office, now.
you
Alright, coming
-
"Hi" you smiled shyly, walking up to his desk and taking a seat on one of the chairs opposite his desk.
"Come 'ere " he says lowly, beckoning you forward with two fingers. You slowly get out of the chair and make your way behind the desk to his side.
"Hi, again" you say as you look down at him, with a sweet smile on your face.
"Hey, feelin' any better, since last night?" He questions as he turns his chair to face you and pulls you in between his legs, his hands holding your hips in place.
"Y-yeah a little, thank you by the way" you reply softly, flustered by the touch he was so lovingly giving you.
"Your welcome, just wanted to make sure you were alright, it was so worth it" he smiled as his hands began to roam, up and down your hips.
"Wh- why was it worth it?" You reply, voice barely above a whisper, as you look down at him though your lashes.
"I got to kiss you, touch you, and keep your panties" he smirked at the last part, knowing it was going to annoy you.
"Thanks for reminding me to kick you for that by the way." You playfully swat his shoulder and he fakes a pout. You began laughing at him.
"What?" He asks, curiously.
"Nothing" you smile as you lift your hands to play with his hair.
"No tell me" he insists, as he squeezes your hips and pulls you down, to straddle him.
"Mmm, it's just I didn't expect you to be such a softie" you smile as you move down on him a little harder, to feel his crotch.
"Of fuck- I" he tries talking but the feeling of you pressed down against him is too much.
"Fuck-“ he says your name “you're gonna kill me" he replies as he pushes his hips against you and you feel his hard on.
“These knee socks have been killing me all day, did you wear em just f’me?” He grunts the last part.
“I did, wanted to impress you.” You smile, wiggling into him.
“It worked, I’m fuckin impressed and so hard f’you.” He smiles into a kiss he plants on your lips.
"I want you now, please daddy" you weren't sure where the 'daddy' came from, but honestly you didn’t care at this point, you needed him. His eyes widen and you're pretty sure you feel him get even harder once the word leaves your mouth.
"I'm your daddy?" He questions you with a smirk on his face.
"Ye-yeah, daddy" you whispered as you continue to grind down on him.
"That's right, I'm your daddy, keep grinding on your daddy till you cum" he groans, face all red.
"Mmmm" you whisper against his neck as you continue. Just as you feel him moving to reposition you, the phone in his office begins to ring. You look up at him and he shakes his head.
"Leave it, keep goin" he groans as he pulls you down, once more. You're so close to your climax when the phone rings again.
"Mmm, just answer it" you groan as you attempt to get off him, he however pulls you back down and answers the phone.
"What?"
"Ok, and?"
"Fine"
"I'll send her in"
He slams the phone back down and kisses you hungrily once more. You oblige and bring your hands up to his hair.
"Who was it?" You ask, pulling back from the kiss.
"Dumbass Richie, he wants to see you, claims one the regulars is here and only you can help him service them" he spits, you can tell he’s annoyed by Richie’s interruption.
"Rich’s always been quite the mood stealer" you smile, as he kisses your neck lightly.
"Rich?" He questions as he pulls back from your neck and looks up at you.
"Yeah, Rich?" You reply confused, had you said the wrong thing?
"Why the fuck, do you call him that?" He asks angrily, as he lets go of your waist. Alright so Carmy’s moods did always change quickly, noted.
"He's a family friend, I've known him since I was like 18 he's like a brother to me, at-least that's how I feel about him." You reply, whilst putting his hands back on your waist.
"Alright then, Good" he says refusing to smile.
"Why the long face, hmmm?" You question as you smile at him.
"I don't want anyone else to have you, I'm territorial, possessive, I don't know call it what you want but you're mine now and I don't need anyone getting in the way of that" he smirks.
"Mmmm, I just loveeee being owned by men, it's so empowering" you say sarcastically.
"I don't mean it in that way, you know that" says Carmy quickly, afraid you misunderstood him.
"I'm just fucking with you, and this may sound a bit anti-feminist, but I like the thought of belonging to you" you whisper into his ear, leaving him groaning.
"Alright we'll, Rich’s waiting for me, bye Carmy" you say as you try to get off of him. His grip however is too strong and he manages to pull you back down.
"I want to take you out for dinner tomorrow night, somewhere nice but chill ,not too fancy." He says shyly.
"I- I would love too, also not too fancy? this doesn't sound like Michelin star chef Carmen Berzatto" you joke, and he simply smiles at you. He finally let's you out of his grip and you give him a sweet peck, before making your way to the door. Before you can leave the office he calls out to you.
"Wear something pretty ok?"
You turn around and smile at him before replying with poise, "only for daddy"
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Text
If Only...
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Pairing: Austin!Elvis x Reader, OR Elvis x Reader
Summary - When Elvis runs into you at a charity benefit, he can't control his resurgence of feelings, and he begins to wonder where it all went wrong? Why were you the one that got away?
Warnings - Mentioned nudity imagination in Elvis' memory, arguments, yelling, throwing things, swearing, written with you/your point of view but a name is assigned to "you" as June (I don't like using y/n, it makes more sense to me to put an actual name)
WC - 2.2K
Author's Note: This is a requested piece that I had an awfully good time writing, enjoyed it so much. Feel free to send in more requests!
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"Elvis?"
The sound of your voice was a strangely familiar one. It had a bit of an unknown aspect to it, but he could hear the familiarity. Normally he might think it was a fan, but the way you said his name had been with such comfortability. Most fans can hardly keep their words together due to their tongue practically falling out of their mouth.
He turned his head away from the group of men gathered around the little bar at the event.
And there you were, June. Little Junie. His little Junebug. Well, not so little anymore as your baby fat dissipated from your sweet cheeks, though they were still supple and apple-like.
"Junebug?"
You smiled and put your arms out to hug him, and strangely enough, he, the man who always reeked of a suave and smooth nature, felt starstruck. No, you weren't some superstar to the world, but there was a time when you were the brightest star in his. You were his girl-next-door, well to be more realistic you were his girl-in-the-next-neighborhood. His suburban sweetheart.
His arms were hesitant at first to wrap around you, but as he smelled the familiar scent of the shampoo you often used, he relaxed into the hug. Pulling back to just stare at you incredulously, like you were a ghost.
Yes, many years had passed, and you both had your respective lives to live and dreams to chase, but as he looked you up and down as if he were measuring up how much taller you'd grown in the way he used to do every summer, he remembered those warm summer nights. He envisioned the mornings that followed and went without breath as he did so.
The way the morning summer sun filtered in through the window of your bedroom, sunlight dancing along your bare arms. Its warmth caressed your body with a softness that he had been using the night before. And when the summer breeze would drift into the room, and the covers didn't quite cover your chest, he noticed the way your nipples arose sensitively, just as they had the night before when it was he who sent chills up your spine.
You always were a looker, but on those summer mornings, he felt you were at your most beautiful. Sure your hair fell messily like hay due to the actions that took place the night before, but even that was beautiful.
At least to him.
"Elvis?"
Elvis focused back in on the sight of you, the you now. The you who looked up at him with calm eyes, much unlike those wide bright ones of the past that stared in admiration at the older boy who showed you attention. As strange as it was to say, although he had gone on to be one of the world's stars, the way you looked at him now was as if you two were on the same playing field. Even though you had to physically look up to him, he could tell that you no longer mentally looked up to him.
Your voice cut in again,
"It's nice seeing you"
He gave you one last up and down before sighing with a smile,
"It's good to see you too Junebug, you've really…"
He was at a loss for words on how to describe you, but you cut him off, referencing the obvious,
"Filled out? Yep, no more 'droopy drawers',"
Elvis couldn't help his smile at the nickname he used to call you when you two were kids and all the other girls were beginning to blossom, being the jerk of a boy he was, he would tease you for being a late bloomer, you'd gotten to an age where you were to start wearing a bra, it was poorly fitted and would droop because it had nothing to hold.
Elvis's smile remained small as he shook his head, his voice then came out soft and genuine,
"No, Junebug, I meant, you've grown to be a beautiful woman"
You returned his statement with a bit of a surprised smile. Elvis had always been playful and teasing, it was very rare you heard a genuine heartfelt compliment. It was sweet to hear, and it showed you that you had both grown in your own ways.
"Well thank you Elvis, and please, call me June," you laughed the last part, "We're not kids anymore, so I feel silly hearing that…"
Elvis' smile looked a little crestfallen at your words, but it remained. His next words fell from his mouth with a tenderness to them,
"But you'll always be my little Junebug"
After those words Elvis got a sense of deja vu, the tender tone of his words, his wording, it brought him back to the last time the two of you had seen each other.
It was a little after your graduation, at the time he'd been 19 years old, still a truck driver. To him, you had this nonsensical idea that you'd go off to college and keep in touch. He never wanted to leave Memphis, and he didn't want to leave his Mama and Daddy behind either, but he also couldn't do long-distance. So it came down to a matter of him making a choice.
That was an awful argument…
He remembered the ending, the two of you had been arguing for over an hour, it was right before you were about to go on a trip to tour a few colleges with your Daddy. He'd slammed his hand onto your dresser and yelled,
"Now Honey, I-I don't know why you're so insistent on this whole college thing, it-it's ridiculous!"
You stared at him with fury, and walked closer to him, saying as quietly as you could,
"Elvis Aaron Presley, I know you did not slam your fist on my dresser while my little brother is sleeping in the other room."
Elvis had practically grown up with you, and your mom was a woman he respected so he'd never usually do something so rude and disruptive in her house. But as you were packing your things to go tour colleges, the betrayal he felt made him think "To hell with it all".
"I did, and I'll do it again if I have to. You're not goin'."
"Yes I am! We can still send mail and telegrams, and have telephone calls-"
Elvis interrupted viciously,
"It's not about that!"
You sent him a glare and put your hands on your hips, questioning with thunder in your voice, "Oh really what is it about? You don't want me to get an education? Don't want me to be able to take care of myself?"
He bellowed,
"You shouldn't have to take care of yourself!! That's what the fuck I'm here for Baby! That's what these-"
He roughly grabbed your hand placing a finger on the promise ring he gave you and holding up his hand with his promise ring.
"-are for"
You stared at him with a foreign gaze for a moment, your voice was a whisper, but he heard you loud and clear, "But, I don't want that… I want to be part of making our future together, I don't want you to be the only one putting in the work… I don't want that at all" You closed your little suitcase as you spoke.
He licked his inner lip in unspoken anger and hummed lowly with a nod, coming to his own conclusions as he paced backward. He went from a whisper to a yell as he asked,
"Ya don't want that… Or do ya not want me?!!"
Your eyes went wide as he paced back over and picked your suitcase back up, throwing it somewhere behind him, but you hadn't locked the latch so as he did clothes flew out this way and that. As the suitcase crashed into your dresser, it caused the dresser to shake and a few little bits of glass decor to topple over, one falling off the dresser and shattering onto the floor.
With the shattering of that glass, you felt the shattering of your heart as you realized this wasn't the life you wanted.
You walked over to the glass that was sprawled along the wood floor, then you kneeled carefully in your little blue dress to caress your clothing that was now carelessly spread along the floor. As you felt tears build in your eyes and let out a sniffle you could hear his angry huffing begin to calm down.
As you assessed the damaged glass and the mess of clothes you began to hear his shoes click against the wood flooring, but before he got to you, likely to apologize, you dismissed him with a croaky voice,
"Leave Elvis."
"Junie, now, I'm-"
You turned your head only slightly, not wanting him to see the sad contortions of your face, just enough for him to see the corner of your cheek, you then repeated,
"Leave Elvis… Please…"
He stopped and stared at your form on the floor, you looked so small and crumpled, just as your clothes were. He sighed and shook his head, he felt himself get mad again from you not accepting his comfort, so before he stormed out, he grumbled,
"When ya come to your senses you know where to find me, and when ya finally do, I don't want to hear a word about this college nonsense."
Before he could leave he heard a clink-clink, and as he turned around he realized it was the sound of your promise ring hitting the door and landing on the floor. Your voice was eerily calm, much unlike the shrill screaming matches you had with him, ones that you often would kiss and make up for not even a day later.
"You don't have to worry about it, 'cause I'm not coming to find you, Elvis, not anymore. You can have your ring. I'm done."
He felt a pang of hurt in his chest at the sight of the ring and the sound of your words. He didn't fully believe you truthfully, but he humored your words, picking up the ring and rubbing it between his fingers.
"Fine, this is it then, but it's your fucking ring. I didn't buy it for myself."
He waited for you to turn around, and give him a rebuttal because you always had to have the last word. But you didn't. And that made him nervous. So in a final attempt to ease you, he spoke in a quiet tone,
"And if this is w-what you're really gonna choose, college over me, then maybe we're better off. But, you'll always be my Junebug…"
With those words he left, you were out of each other's lives. Until now.
"Elvis?"
This time it wasn't your voice that brought him back to reality, instead, it was the warmth of your palm on his cheek and the concern in your eyes.
"Honey, is something wrong? You keep losing focus"
He swallowed thickly at the nickname, and at the concern and care you've shown in that small gesture, it was as if you were the older one now.
You took your hand back with a laugh, "Ah, sorry, it's instinct these days" He quirked his head to the side, "These days?" You smiled, "Ah yes, I forgot, Tommy! Michael!"
Elvis followed where your eyes were as you called out the names and two kids appeared to be running toward the two of you from the desert table, one had chocolate smears all over his face, and you tsked at the sight, bending down slightly to lick your thumb and wipe it off.
Elvis stared blankly at the two kids who looked completely alike and looked to be no older than 5-years-old. He heard you mumble fondly as you cleaned one of the boys' faces, "Oh Tommy dear…"
After cleaning the boy up you put your left hand on Tommy's head and your right hand on Michael's head, then introduced,
"These are my boys, Tommy and Michael, they're twins. I've got a little girl too, Mary-Ann, she's only a few months old so I left her with the sitter tonight. Boys, this is Elvis, I knew him in high school"
'Knew', was enough to make Elvis' stomach churn. And the whole idea of you having kids, kids with another man, that had sent his stomach on a rollercoaster. But before you could go into further conversation, before Elvis could properly introduce himself, a man called your name, and as you heard it your head turned away from Elvis to the direction.
You clarified, "Ah, that's my husband, Richard…", you then looked down to the kids, "Boys, go tell Daddy I'll be there in a moment", and obediently the boys skipped off to wherever that voice was coming from.
Elvis was too busy processing it all to comment. Here you were with a husband and kids, seemingly happy, whereas Elvis had a couple of girlfriends on call and a group of guys who only had their best interests in mind.
Even though he was older, he felt as though you had outgrown him. He wanted to say so much, he wanted to catch up with you. But he knew if he did, he would just let all his feelings spill out. And you didn't need that, not when you're happy with the life you chose.
You smiled an almost bittersweet smile, your hands gestured behind you as you spoke, "Well, I gotta go now, Richard needs me, but, it was great seeing you, Elvis. I mean it."
You held his hand gently and as he held yours he could only mumble quietly, "Yeah, same to you Junebu-"
He corrected himself, but he didn't like the unfamiliarity and almost formality of the name,
"June."
With that, you smiled one last smile, and your hands slowly drifted out of his, and then you disappeared into the crowd.
And once again the two of you were out of each other's lives.
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monzamash · 1 year
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unless you like that — daniel ricciardo
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summary – it’s events season and the alcohol is flowing.  rating – a whole lotta smut 18+ (sex scene, course language, drinking) pairing – daniel ricciardo x you (female reader) word count – 3.8k of absolute filth a/n – bit of plot but mostly just sex because drunk, flirty danny ric makes me feral. that's it. enjoy the ride. masterlist
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All you wanted to do was drag Daniel back to your hotel room, get reacquainted after a couple of torturous weeks of being apart, maybe run a hot bath and enjoy the rest of your night in peace.
In your dreams.
You never really had Daniel for long during the season and because of that, you wanted to make the most of your time actually being in the same country, let alone the same city. But your handsome, social butterfly of a boyfriend had other ideas – ones that didn’t factor in your desire to have him all to yourself.
So good to see ya too, mate.
We’ve gotta catch up next time you’re in LA, man.
Maaaate, long time no see!
How’s ya mum going? Tell her I said hi.
The mum's bloody loved themselves a bit of Daniel Ricciardo.
The long, doting line of people wanting to wish Daniel good luck for next year and praising his strength through adversity while getting a sneaky selfie was never ending. To put it plainly, it was obnoxious but you were used to it now. He was effervescent, charismatic – a big ‘ol magnet to anyone and everyone. You loved him endlessly, admired his ability to smile through the pain even more but all you wanted to do was say goodnight to everyone and leave.
Barely two words were shared before you were whisked off in a car and through the doors of this swanky restaurant – the private function room and bottomless champagne making it less excruciating.
“All I can think about is getting this over and done with so I can come back here and rip this unbelievably beautiful dress off you.”
Those ‘barely two words’ were enough ammunition to last you a couple of hours, holding onto the hope of that promise coming true. But right now you had to try and enjoy the night and put any filthy thoughts you may or may not be having aside for the sake of your own sanity. Smile and wave.
You didn’t know exactly what the party was for but you knew that the McLaren team were the ones throwing it from the obnoxious amount of orange balloons hanging from the ceiling – and that Daniel was obliged to attend. But you would never have guessed that he was there as a contractual obligation the way he floated through the room, saying hello to every last individual, bright smile adorning his face. He made each and every person feel like a million bucks. That’s why they loved him, because he made them feel at ease – like he was one of them.
Daniel didn’t think there was a whole lot for him to be celebrating but he always underestimated how loved he was by McLaren – racing problems aside, he was adored by the staff who were devastated to see him leaving.
And somehow in a room of nearly a hundred people, he knew nearly everyone by name, zeroing in long enough to have them eating out of the palm of his hand.
Your words, not his.
“Could you say hello to my grandson – he loves you.” An older lady asked, phone locked and loaded for the video. God help him if he said no.
“Absolutely.”
Of course he said yes. That was the kind of person Daniel was. Not a people pleaser or a push over – just a genuinely nice guy with more patience than anyone you’d ever known.
After making your way around most of the room, you finally had a second to drink in your man. The freshly steamed, light blue linen shirt was lazily buttoned over his shoulders, leaving a the tiniest bit of chest hair showing for good measure and to tease you, no doubt. He’d gone for his classic black skinny jeans sitting atop a pair of shiny black dress shoes look that you loved and those wild curls that you’d spent hours twirling between your fingers flowed onto his forehead – he looked so fucking good.
His charm and kindness always had you singing his praises and you made sure he knew how wonderful he was, how attractive he was. Your soft whispers of admiration had his heart pumping as he took a sip of his Chateau Margaux red, lips quirked in a smile. “So sexy.”
“Which part of all that was sexy? The bit where I filmed a video for that women’s grandkid? You are an absolute deviant if that’s makin’ ya feel a certain way, my girl.”
Daniel loved to tease, especially when it garnered that kind of reaction. Rolling eyes, flushed cheeks and a gentle shove in the arm. He fucking lived for it.
“No, dickhead.” You scolded under your breath, “Just… you being you. I don’t know what it is.”
You couldn’t put your finger on it but you knew how it made you feel. Seduced.
“Maybe you can figure it out in our hotel room.”
Daniel shrugged with a smirk lining his lips, nonchalantly throwing out the idea as if he hadn’t been plotting a way to leave the party early. Wishing for nothing more than to have you praising his other set of skills, if you catch my drift. Rolling your eyes with flushed cheeks but in a very different context. He was twitching at the thought as his fingertips lightly scratched at the silky material covering your ribs, dragging your body closer to his.
“Don’t tempt me, Ricciardo. All I’ve wanted since the second we got here was to leave so don’t talk a big game if you can’t deliver.” You were whispering in his ear, hoping to spur on those scheming eyes staring back at you.
“When have I not delivered? Just call me FedEx,” He joked, swaggering away from the bar and waving to Lando who had just rocked up with his crew in tow.
“Do we even know what this party’s for?” Lando asked over the loud music blasting through the speakers, taking the smallest step back after he gave us both a hug hello.
Lando looked dapper compared to his usual hoodie and track pants ensemble that he'd wear around the track. He was slightly confused by the overt extravagance he’d walked into but he was always smiling your way, making you feel welcome. You were going to miss his cheekiness and the way he brought out a different side to Daniel. Mischief always seemed to follow those two.
“Probably just a way for McLaren to swing their dick around before the end of the season,” Daniel shrugged, completely oblivious to how crude his comment was. Thankfully Lando was more than used to it now after working so closely with him so you didn’t have to apologise on Daniel’s behalf.
“The wine’s ace though.” He quickly added.
“You would say that,” Lando replied, snickering quietly as he looked over at the bar, “Might actually grab a drink and come back. Want anything?"
Lando looked between you and Daniel as you both shook your heads until he turned away and disappeared into the crowd, “Kid’s not gonna know what hit him next year – being the golden boy isn’t what it’s cracked up to be…”
You nodded and watched Daniel’s eyes following Lando, pensively taking a sip of his wine before sighing and glancing back to you, “What?”
“Nothing,” You tutted, “It’s funny how much you care about him now after how rocky the relationship was in the beginning. I love that he’s softened you a little bit, made you less of a prick.” You winked.
The insincere insult tacked onto the end made Daniel’s thick eyebrows rise with faux hurt, an exaggerated gasp masterfully added for emphasis, “Me? A prick? I wouldn’t reckon a prick snags a girl like you.”
You watched as Daniel sculled the rest of his wine, a devilish smirk hiding behind the large glass, “No chance. Unless you like that.”
“I don’t hate it.”
Daniel's laugh was dark as he took a step forward, lessening the gap between the two of you before reaching up and brushing your hair over your shoulder, “Now you’re tempting me and that’s not fair.” He whispered into your ear, carefully placing his empty glass on the table beside you.
“Nothings really fair though, is it? You having to be here instead of buried deep inside me, fucking me until I –”
“The bar line’s a fucking ‘mare,” Lando loudly interrupted and caused you to jump back from Daniel’s side. You steadied yourself on his hip for balance as you watched Lando plot his next move.
“Oh, there’s Charlotte – she’ll have an in!”
You and Daniel politely nodded again while he shot off in the other direction, and the two of you shifted away from the middle of the room, out of view of prying eyes and into a private nook. Daniel was quick to pin you up against the wall, large hand pressing into your hip as you looked up at him with innocent eyes. He could see right through you.
“Don’t give me that look,” He growled, eyes narrowed. “Look at what you do to me.”
His whispered words and flickering eyes encouraged your hands that were playing with his slightly parted shirt to travel further south, fingertips tracing over his dark denim jeans that were a lot tighter than when he first got here. Almost too tight.
“You are fuckin’ cruel, sweetheart.”
The painfully hard outline pressing against your palm intoxicated your already foggy mind, mouth watering. You could feel your thighs magnetically pulling together as his thumb flicked the dimple in your chin, forcing you to look into his dark, misty eyes that were watching your every move.
"Want me to do something about it?" It was a bold question to ask, a dangerous one, even when you noticed his eyes change colour. They were blacker than the night sky now.
Daniel was exasperated, anguished by the question as he smiled and dipped his forehead onto yours. The answer was obviously “abso-fucking-lutely, get down on your knees and show me you love me” but he knew better. And so did you. Still, the warm puff of air from his laugh still sent surging chills down your arched spine, needy for his touch.
“I hate sayin’ no to you,” He rasped and closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, “Especially when I know how fucking good you feel but no. You can't.”
You dryly chuckled and brushed your hands over his puffed out chest, “Must be absolute torture, my boy. Thankfully I can hide how I’m feeling – you? Not so much.” You replied with gritted teeth and a shrug, smirk dancing on your lips.
“Yeah, you’re fuckin’ in for it later, mate.” He playfully retorted before pulling himself from your grasp and leaving you with what he thought was a threat, but what you took as a promise you hoped to God he would keep. You were soaked. to. the. core.
The expensive champagne continued to flow freely for hours and several glasses of wine later had you and Daniel fumbling around at your hotel room door, unsure whether you’d arrived at the right number and having absolutely no idea where the key card you barely remembered giving him had gone. It also didn’t help that Daniel’s lips hadn’t left the crook of your neck while you dug through your clutch, his fingers inching closer to danger with every passing second.
“Lemme see your pockets,” You huffed and shoved your hand into his jeans pocket, causing a loud shriek to slip from his lips.
“You’re just tryin’ to touch my dick!” He shouted, louder than he expected and definitely louder than you accepted as appropriate, even in your drunken stupor, "You can if ya want."
“Shuuuush!” You hissed, trying not to laugh as Daniel gazed up at the ceiling and reached into his back pocket, searching until his eyes lit up with excitement. “Ah-huh!”
“Thank god – now hurry up and fuck me please!” You whisper-yelled, praying for the sweet sound of a door unlocking.
“Alright, ya horn-bag. Give me a sec- ond… Shit!” Daniel paused and looked back at you with wide eyes, “Wrong room.”
You could faintly hear the sound of footsteps behind the large door in front your shocked face. Before you could even muster a response to his mortifying revelation, Daniel had you in his grasp, dragging you down the hallway, panting and hoping he had a plan. He always did.
“Room 1001 – not 1011,” He coughed through his laughter, hovering the keycard over the lock and finally revealing the room we’d left nearly 5 hours ago, “Home sweet home.”
“Shut up,” You mumbled, throwing your arms over his shoulders and jumping into his embrace. Daniel groaned at your sudden burst of energy and hoisted you up on his waist, mouths instantly attached and desperately trying to defy physics.
Your vision was blurry when you pulled away for air, lips still touching, noses knocking and your hands still roaming the expanse of Daniel’s broad shoulders. You could feel him moving you further into the room that was spinning, the ceiling fan still whirring above your head. That was the first thing you saw when you landed on the messy hotel bed and left for dead by Daniel who was chuckling at the foot, watching you lay back in defeat.
“I’m stupidly drunk.” You huffed.
Daniel nodded as you looked up at him through hooded eyes, “So, so drunk.”
“Not that drunk.”
Your pointed finger and wiggling eyebrows told him exactly what you were referring to, lip bite and dark eyes forever selling you out.
“Take off your pants.” You ordered.
Daniel’s grin dropped into a smirk as you propped yourself up on your elbows, encouraging your boyfriend to give you a little show. Tipsy or not, Daniel knew what you wanted and he’d move heaven and earth to give you whatever you asked for. A heat rushed across his chest as he gazed down at you, undressing for him. The silky satin dress slipped off a lot easier than it went on, a detail not going unnoticed by Daniel who was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, moaning at the sight of your white lacy thong that you knew he loved.
“Killing me.”
“You love it, baby.”
“I live for it.”
The banter was hot, if not hotter than the actual sex. Foreplay was your forte but you weren’t in a ‘building a narrative’ kind of mood. It was primitive now – the primal need for a release outweighing the desire to fuck around with each other. That was the kind of fun best saved for the morning. You were already looking forward to that.
“Look how wet I am for you, Danny.”
Daniel growled as he kicked his jeans off, boxer briefs attached as they flung across the room, discarded with his wrinkled linen shirt. He stood for a moment – naked, painfully hard and begging to be touched before crawling up onto the California king. You could feel him throbbing as he brushed up on your inner thigh, legs open and wrapped around his waist in a matter of seconds. Lips attached again, frenziedly needing for more.
“Give it to me.” You pathetically pled.
“I wanna taste first.”
You resented his love for you in that moment. Resented that he wanted to indulge in what you had to offer, when all you wanted was the main course. The sharp huff that slipped from your lips made Daniel chuckle into your inner thigh, sloppy kisses followed by tiny nibbles, undeniably revving you up but also making the pout on your face that much more noticeable.
“You’re sexy even when you’re mad,” He almost slurred, closing the gap between you and his indescribably proficient tongue. Hot breath fanning over what you could only imagine was your glistening pussy. Ready for him to enjoy. Fuck.
“You are a fucking drug. A sweet, delicious drug that'll be the death of me.”
Daniel hummed before flattening his tongue against you, loving eyes locked on yours before your head tilted back, throat barely squeaking out a moan. He lapped and lapped and lapped away at you, paying close attention to the way you curled up when the tip of his nose slipped over your clit, your moan changing in pitch. He was always in heaven devouring you like this, until he was somewhat satisfied. He wasn’t selfish and he knew what you wanted, even if he could’ve stayed like that until the sun came up. Feasting.
“Daniel, please.”
“Full naming me when I just wanna make you feel good is mean, baby.”
Daniel was playing. And you were teasing. He loved hearing you moan his whole name – his mind reeling back to the time you screamed out his full name as you came, subsequently rushing him to his own finish line. Exploding.
“I wanna cum around your cock. That’s all I want,” You sighed and finally opened your eyes, clutching and admiring at the sprinkling of chest hair. Daniel was drunk, but not drunk enough to not realise how lucky he was to have you spread out beneath him, pleading for him to fuck you into another dimension.
“Your wish is my… demand? Command? Your wish is my something,” Daniel couldn’t quite find the saying in the midst of his excitement, and you couldn't hold back the fit of laughter as you threw your head into the pillows.
“Smooth, Ricciardo,” You giggled as you felt his slick tip teasing your hole, fists clenched beside your head and a smirk the size of the equator on his face.
“Well how does it go then, smarty pants?” Daniel nodded his head and gently sank into you, revelling in the feeling of you engulfing every inch he had to give while he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, waiting for your answer.
“I –” You stammered, adjusting and sucking in a sharp breath, “I have no… No idea, and I don’t… fucking care.”
Daniel chuckled as his wispy curls fell into his eyes, watching you lick your lips and gather yourself. You were blurry in his vision, the alcohol now really pumping through his veins as he gripped your hips in his large hands, palms perspiring and brows following suit. Your fingertips trailed from his chest down to his pelvis, skin hot to the touch and tattoos glistening from sheen of sweat covering his perfect body.
“Fuck me just like that… Oh my god.” You snapped open your lust filled eyes – blazing flames erupting in Daniel’s as they caught yours.
“Feels fuckin’ good, ey.”
It was a rhetorical question but you nodded anyway.
Daniel was huffing and puffing as your lips tried to find his, hands cradling his slacked jaw. Drunken sloppy sex was one of your favourite genres and it’d been a hot minute since you’d found yourselves with the taste of red wine still lingering on your tongues, fucking like animals. He was thrusting hard until he noticed your hand crawl down to where your bodies met, the delicate touch slowing his movements and capturing his undivided attention.
“Oi,” Daniel breathed and sat back on his knees, still warming in your tight pussy. Your eyebrows quirked with intrigue and a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as he grabbed your hand and guided it up to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. Fanning the flames deep inside.
His tongue swiped across your soft fingertips, making sure each one was dripping wet with spit before sliding them back down between your trembling thighs, “Bet that feels better, huh?”
“Mm-hmm. Much better,” You managed to moan out as he wrapped his arm around your lower back and angled your hips up to his cock, watching himself slowly slide in and out while you circled your clit, edging yourself closer with every touch.
Daniel picking up the pace meant he wasn’t far from his high, the tell tale signs were consistent and always a dead giveaway. The flush of red creeping up his neck and veins bulging under his taut skin was the first sign. Filthy words whispered into your ear was the second and grunts vibrating in his chest as his focus was pulled to you and only you were one of the final ones before he couldn’t hold on any longer.
But he never left you high and dry. Not in a million fucking years.
"Right fucking there, Danny!" You shouted, oblivious to your screams almost certainly alerting the neighbouring room. Even if you were conscious of the volume of your voice, you couldn’t have cared less. Your man was putting on a show and you’d be damned if you didn’t make sure he knew how good he was giving it to you.
"I'm right there..."
"Cum all over my cock, beautiful."
You squealed into the pillow you’d been gripping, scrunching your nose at how fucking good he felt filling you to the brim. Daniel eased your thrashing body through the shockwaves, making sure you felt every last writhe of pleasure – every nerve set alight by the fire burning in your stomach as that perfectly tied knot quickly unravelled. He was holding on for dear life, cursing how tight you felt coming around his aching cock.
"I need to see your face, baby. Look at me." 
Daniel’s raspy voice snapped you back to reality as your hips rocked violently against his. That and your blown-out pupils boring into his was enough to send him tumbling over the edge, unloading everything he had and more.
Daniel clutched your shuddering thighs with his searing fingertips as he bucked one, two, three times and placed one of his shaky palms against the hotel wall, trying to catch his breath as he filled you up. Your eyes were lazily shut, slowly regaining some semblance of consciousness and clawing at the skin on Daniel’s abdomen – attempting to soothe him through his high. Selfishly, you were too caught up in your own that you’d forgotten he was even still there. You'd make up for that later.
For now, you were in bliss. Laboured breathing filled the comfortable silence as you searched for one another, floating back down to the real world.
"Come back to me," Daniel teased quietly as a sly grin swept across your face, eyes closed and skin still tingling from his hot touch. He fell beside you and rolled off the bed in search of something, anything to clean up the mess you’d made together.
"I think I've died and gone to heaven," You whispered back, earning a hoarse chuckle in return. Daniel looked like a mirage on a hot summers day when you opened your eyes and watched him exit the en suite, tissue box in hand.
"What a review."
Proudly boasting after sex was a regular occurrence with Daniel and you loved it; encouraged it even. He chucked the tissue away and practically tripped back into bed, still tipsy and feeling the full effects now that he wasn't under your intoxicating spell. At least for now, anyway.
He flicked off the lamp and sent the room into complete darkness before you felt his warm arm snaking around your naked waist, pulling you into his pounding chest. You were exhausted and almost numb from the long night but satisfied above all else. Thirst well and truly quenched.
You could always rely on Danny for that.
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janeyseymour · 7 days
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Two Families Become One- pt 4
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
Summary: the last addition to this little verse for now- you and Melissa get married.
WC: ~2.45k
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With the upcoming wedding, which both you and Melissa had agreed to be a very small gathering of family and the Abbott clan (much to Ellie’s dismay), along with the paperwork for Ellie to become an official Schemmenti just mere days after you, life was more than a little crazy.
Both of you were wrapping up the school year with teaching, Ellie was as hyperactive and excitable as ever with everything coming up, and nothing seemed to calm the chaos that was constantly overtaking your life at this point. It was far and few between at this point that you took her to the park or even got a moment of peace and quiet with your fiancée. No, those days were gone and replaced with various planning meetings- both for school and for your upcoming wedding, because even a small wedding requires much attention- alongside various meetings with the family lawyer that you had hired to ensure that Melissa could adopt Ellie without any flukes.
But the school year wraps up, Barbara helps to assist the two of you with anything from ensuring that your marriage license would be ready by the wedding date a week after classes were done to taking Ellie off of your hands so the two of you could head down to the law firm to finalize paperwork to simply helping organize all of the materials that had been used between both of your rooms to help lessen the ‘organized chaos’.
You remember asking Janine if she would stand there with you- because you wouldn’t have been able to make it through a lot of this without her entertaining your little girl. And of course, Barbara was asked to stand right alongside your soon-to-be wife when the day comes. Both women cried tears of joy as they launched themselves into your arms. Ellie, not wanting to be left out of the hugs, makes her way in and giggles.
You also remember asking the custodian of the school to be the one who marries you. He too had cried tears of joy and promised that he would do the two of you good. Although he was curious as to why you would ask him.
“You’re a part of Abbott too,” you told him quietly, hugging him tightly. “You’re part of the story too.”
And now, here you are standing in front of your family, Melissa’s family, and the rest of the Abbott crew while Mr. Johnson of all people marries the two of you. For a small affair, Ellie had begged you to do as much of a traditional wedding as possible. So, Melissa is standing up at the makeshift alter with Mr. Johnson as you hover over by one of the trees planted in the backyard just out of sight. Ellie is given the silent signal from your fiancée to start walking, and she giggles with glee as she twirls around and throws white rose petals into the yard. When she makes her way to Melissa, the little girl all but grabs her in a hug, forcing her to bend down and return it. With the way that everyone lets out a small, ‘aw’, your daughter hams it up and kisses Melissa’s cheek for good measure before taking her seat next to your mother and Melissa’s grandmother. 
When Mr. Johnson hits play on his phone connected to the speaker and your music comes on, you turn away from the tree and make your way over to the ‘aisle’. Your breath catches in your chest as you glance at Melissa for the first time today. She looks… stunning. Her hair is perfectly curled, her makeup is done with precision and care, and she looks absolutely amazing in the white pantsuit that her and Barbara had slaved away at to make sure it fit just right. 
Melissa’s mouth quite literally drops open at the sight of you. Tears instantly well in her eyes as she sees how… how perfect you look. You had opted for a white satin dress that you had found on Amazon to cut the costs, and Nonna herself had altered it so that it sat on your shoulders beautifully, the slightest cowl neck hanging just low enough to show off a bit of cleavage. Your hair is down with the softest braided headband to keep the flyaways away, and you smile softly at her. She nods, and you begin walking down with your father, who is an absolute blubbering mess despite already having done this once for you. He gives you away before engulfing the redhead in a hug. He whispers something in her ear, and she just nods gently before kissing his cheek. Your flowers are taken from your hand and given to Ellie, who was delighted when she found out that she would have the duty of holding onto your little bouquet for the ceremony.
You don’t remember much of Mr. Johnson’s opening remarks because you’re too distracted holding onto Melissa’s shaking hands in your own and looking into eyes that match the grass beneath you. It doesn’t much matter though, because Gerald has been given the job of recording everything for the two of you as a wedding gift.
What breaks you out of your trance is the custodian announcing that the two of you have written your own vows. You nod, and Barbara hands you the paper that you gave her to hold onto. 
“I- wow,” you whisper as you take her hand again, the other holding the paper with your script on it. You turn to the small group gathered around. “For those of you who don’t know… Melissa and I didn’t actually meet at the school. No, we met after I flew across the country with nothing on my back but a backpack filled with clothes and toys for my daughter while we figured out what we were going to do away from Utah. A month into living with my parents, I was able to find an apartment that would be suitable for me and my little girl, and a week into living there… I met this one- or rather, I saw her. She was coming out of the apartment complex to get into her car, and I was trying to corral Ellie back into the bike trailer to get some dinner. Of course, little girl just had to throw a fit, one that Melissa witnessed.”
“Oopsies!” Ellie giggles, forcing a laugh from everyone in the audience.
“I was beyond embarrassed.” You turn to face your future wife again. “I probably looked like a terrible mother, stressed beyond all belief. And then… you came and knocked on my door, telling me that I looked real stressed and asking if I needed any help. Since then, you have been there for not only me, but for my little girl- soon-to-be our little girl. In the midst of all of my own drama and messiness, I gained a job, a friend, and then I fell for you, and I’m happy to say that I think you fell for me too?” That gets a chuckle out of everyone, including the woman standing in front of you. She nods warmly. “I could not be more grateful for the love and life that you have shown me; walks in the park, a warm home cooked meal on a good day or a bowl of soup when I’m down; flowers just to say ‘I love you’. You have always been there for me through the happy moments and also the moments of insecurity when it came to raising Ellie or a day at work, and I promise you that I will always be here for you- no matter what. Through the good times and the bad, thick and thin- and we’ve had plenty of both, I will spend the rest of my days proving to you that you, and Ellie, are all I could ever need. I will always be here… right by your side, loving you, even if it means that I have to be the one to rescue the stink bugs and take them out of the house.”
The redhead wipes her tears away from her face as she lets go of your hand to grab the paper that she had written on from her jacket pocket.
“Everyone here knows that I wasn’t too keen on getting married a second time,” she starts. “And I was hellbent on keeping that promise to myself, to keep my heart guarded and safe, until I met you and threw everything I knew out the window.”
Mr. Johnson nods his head in agreement, getting a laugh from those who were not standing on the little platform.
“I knew what I was getting into when I realized that I had feelings for you… that there would be times of uncertainty and doubt- times where things got messy, and surely they have,” she awkwardly chuckles. “But I also knew that I was always going to be second in your life… always trailing behind little miss Ellie girl.”
The little girl grins up at the two of you, with wide eyes.
“And second place is not a place that I would usually prefer, but I think I can handle it if it’s to the perfect daughter that you’ve raised and that I now get to help raise. I love you, and I love Ellie more than I ever thought I was capable of. I’ve cherished the good times, loved supporting you and loving you through the bad, and adored every other little moment in between. It has been my absolute honor getting to fall in love with you, and I only continue to fall more in love with you everyday. Everyday, you show me something new that not only surprises me, but gets me to fall that much deeper in love with you. And I know that you will only continue to surprise me and bring an abundance of life and love into my own life, and for that I am eternally grateful to you.”
She reaches up to gently wipe the tear that’s trailing down your face before smiling at you softly.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“I’m not done,” she smirks at you. She turns to Ellie and waves her up. The little girl looks confused, but she follows the order of her mother. You lift your daughter up to your hip and hold her there as you wait for Melissa to start again.
“I knew that marrying you also meant that I would be marrying into your little family, and I would have to step up and be a second parental figure to Ellie… so I want to make these vows to both of you.”
Ellie clutches at the necklace that the redhead gave to her when she asked if she could formally adopt her, tears already starting to pour down her face, with the biggest smile you think you’ve ever seen.
“I promise to love and support you both through thick and thin. I promise to make spaghetti when Ellie wants it, and to make you chicken noodle soup whenever you aren’t feeling well. I promise that I will always be here to help you through all of your doubts and fears, and I will always be there to celebrate the highs. We’ve been through it all at this point: from the start of our relationship, to celebrating birthdays and milestones at work, to right now. We’ve gotten through this much, and no matter what happens from here on out, I promise to be by your sides, loving you through it all. I promise you, that I will love the people that you become just as much as I love the people that you are today.”
You reach a hand up to wipe at the tears that are now hitting your chest in rapid succession from your little girl as she reaches for Melissa to hold her instead. The redhead of course takes Ellie into her arms, holding her tightly.
“I love you, little girl,” the second grade teacher whispers as she kisses your daughter’s cheeks.
“I love you too, Mommy,” Ellie chokes out.
Then her eyes meet your own. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Then you look to your little girl. “Alright, love bug. Go take your seat so Mom and I can officially get married.”
She squeezes Melissa tightly before letting her go. Then she squeezes you before rushing back to her seat in between your mother and Nonna.
Mr. Johnson says a few more things before he finally announces that the two of you are wife and wife, and then Melissa is dipping you and kissing you with passion. Your crowd hoots and hollers as they celebrate the fact that you’re now married and are a Schemmenti now.
The reception is really just a free for all at the Howard residence, everyone milling about and enjoying the various foods that the Schemmenti ladies had insisted on preparing for you all- their form of a wedding gift to the two of you. Kristen Marie even came and brought the cake from the bakery that she knows you absolutely adore. It’s beautiful, and it tastes even better than it looks.
“Know that if Mel was marrying anyone else,” the blonde tells you lowly. “I woulda brought a shit store-bought cake and laughed. But it’s you, and I know Ma and Nonna would kick my ass if I fucked up today for you and Ellie.”
You just laugh. “Kristen Marie, when are you going to just admit the fact that you love Mel.”
“Never.”
The party goes well into the night, but after a bit, Ellie is exhausted. The Howards have graciously told you that they would take your daughter in for the night, and once you get her settled in the guest room, you and your wife join the party again. It doesn’t last much longer, the older folk heading home for a decent night’s rest, and the younger finding their way out to allow you and your new wife to have a night together. 
After helping clean up (despite the Howard protests), you too head out for your own home with promises that you’ll be back to pick up your daughter in the morning.
As soon as you make your way to the threshold, Melissa sweeps you into your arms with a chuckle, and she carries you through the front door. You giggle the entire time, and the next thing you know, you’re in bed seeing stars.
As you’re laying down in bed that night, Melissa pulls you in close. “Goodnight, my beautiful wife… Mrs. Schemmenti.”
Yeah… that feels right.
TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld
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ravencincaide · 4 months
Text
We need to talk 
Summary: You assume the worst; after all why else would your partner utter those four cursed words OR Sometimes there is no easy way to have a difficult discussion but one could always take a more human approach towards it.
Pairing Dazai x Fem! Reader X Chuuya (SKK x fem!reader) 
Inspired by request by anon: A more alternative, very stand-alone part two for “Desperate times call for Desperate measures” where the boys realize how much their actions have hurt the reader
Warnings: Depression/ hint at postpartum depression, hint at bad eating habits, very mild sexual hint, cursing, hurt comfort
Enjoy~ ______________________________________________________________
“ We need to talk” 
When you heard those words your heart flopped to your stomach; the bitter, icky taste of bile filled your mouth. You froze mid-motion, somewhere halfway between straight and bent over towards the crib, about to place the newly nursed and sleepy boy-child beside his already napping twin sister. Your hands began to shake, so much so that you almost dropped the child the last half a meter to the soft mattress of his crib. 
“ W-what?” you gasped out, your eyes flickered towards his voice. But Dazai was almost completely out of your field of vision. Even as you craned your neck you could only catch a glimpse of him, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. 
“ Put him down for his nap and we’ll talk downstairs” Dazai replied, his voice soft, but you doubted it was more for your sake than the snoozing children. 
You swallowed thickly and turned back to the two babies. Your heart was beating a million miles an hour. A part of you desperately wanted to pick those two back up into your arms and shut the door on Dazai. To shut away all the issues and imperfections and just rock your children close to your body. Hold them until the world stopped spinning. When did it all become so difficult?
– Another part of you hated them. The twins that seemed to hold every ounce of Dazai and Chuuya’s love, leaving none left over for you. 
You wondered if you’d still be together if it weren’t for the twins. 
The thought made you shudder. Your thoughts drifted back to the four words that brought on this level of anxiety in you. We need to talk. In your mind there is only one reason for you to hear those words. And you knew you were not ready to face that reality- what person- woman would? When you’ve put so many years towards your relationship; celebrated so many achievements, mourned so many sacrifices, the joys of parenthood and the struggles of being partners. All of it. The good and the bad. 
Your eyes flickered down to your ring finger and you felt tears well up in your eyes. A part of you wondered if that was the reason why they never married you- never even offered. Because then ending things would be so much easier. Though, rationally, you guessed everything good had to come to an end. With or without a ring. 
Setting the child back down in the crib you pulled the blanket over the twins. Your fingers brushing against their cheeks with featherlight touches. You bit your lip as you felt a tear roll down your cheeks. Then you pulled your hands away and wiped your cheeks, steadying your nerves. 
You were not going to give him- them- the satisfaction of seeing you cry. 
Once you felt your icy mask of professionalism slip into place, you finally turned to face Dazai. With quick steps you headed out of the room. He closed the door behind you quietly then began walking downstairs, hands in his pockets. He looked relaxed, casual even.You followed, keeping half a step behind him. Not close enough so your shoulders would bump, but close enough to show that you were ready to face whatever unpleasant excuses he was going to throw in your face. You held your head high, proud and confident. 
But was that actually true? A little voice in your head whispered. Were you really so certain in yourself and your own ability to hide your emotion that you would be able to out-lie the great Osamu Dazai.  More importantly, would you really be able to remain calm and just stand and listen as the two most important men in your life listed all the things wrong with you. All the reasons why you weren’t- and would never be- good enough. 
You stopped mid step, halfway between the messy living room of childrens toys, feeding bottles, diapers and clothes scattered around without any care, and just around the corner from the kitchen and the kitchen table where you had planned to spend the rest of the evening, working to wrap up whatever work you had left in your partners departments. The work you took over while your so-called lovers were two months abroad god-knows-where doing god-knows-what. Once the finalities were fixed, you’d be able to create a report of everything that occurred in the departments during their absence; the decisions you made and suggestions you’d advise for the future. All to make the transition into their respective roles as smooth as possible. At least that had been your plan earlier tonight. A foolish, meaningless plan that was masqueraded as helping them with work when in reality it was just a facade for you to feel useful. T ofeel connected to work. 
A woman- not just a mother. 
From the corner of your eye you could see the clock on the wall gently swaying with each tick-tack sound. A reminder that the screw it hung on would give away at any moment now. Once it would finally let go, the clock would crash to the ground, the glass shattering and the hourhands stopping at whatever doomed time it happened. You hoped it happened soon- maybe even as you passed it. Shaking your head you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, a defeated expression on your face. “ Dazai I understand, you don’t need to say anything I am sorry for whatever and –” 
“-Belladonna, you’re not getting out of this talk” Dazai stated matter of factly. “ so please keep walking”
He was curt with you. Short and straight to the point. Nothing shy of an order- a veiled threat that reminded you of your place. Shuddering slightly, you started walking again, resembling a scolded puppy rather than a confident mafioso partner and mother of their children. Your gaze was focused on the floor as you followed Dazai into the kitchen where you heard Chuuya shuffling about. With each step, the geers in your head kept turning, filling you with deeper dread and anxiety. With questions you needed to ask and were terrified of knowing the answer to. 
Suddenly, you snapped out of your daze as a sweet scent filled your senses, one that wasn’t unfamiliar despite the fact that you hadn’t smelled in months. Your eyes left Dazai’s back as he took a seat at one of the kitchen chairs and searched for the source of that fragrance. Then your eyes widened in surprise as you saw a vase with flowers standing right in the middle of the kitchen table. Beside your computer and all the files and other paperwork you prepared. You frowned a little, confused. Why were there flowers? 
“ Is there something wrong with getting flowers for my precious partner?” You frowned a little at the statement, definitely thrown off guard. 
“ What’s the matter, is the smell giving you a headache?” Chuuya asked, tone worried as he emerged from the kitchen with a large platter of fruit, primarily berries and sweet tropical ones, which he set down on the table as close to you as possible before disappearing back into the kitchen.
 “You must be hungry Bella, try some” When you didn’t move closer, Dazai wrapped a cold hand around your wrist and tugged you towards himself until you landed awkwardly in his lap. He chuckled at you, his hot breath hitting your ear as his arm came to wrap itself around your waist. He was holding you closely- tightly- leaving you barely any room to get comfortable, let alone stand up and leave. Ignoring your discomfort, Dazai picked a grape of the vine and offered it to you. When you ignored it he popped it between his lips, smiling as the sweet juice filled his senses. “ ahhh they’re sweet, like cotton candy, you should eat it” he urged you again. 
You just frowned more and crossed your arms over your chest, ignoring him and his attempt at feeding you. Your eyes were focused on Chuuya re-emerging from the kitchen, several bowls levitating around him. Then your face flushed slightly as whipped cream and several types of chocolate were placed in front of you by the berries. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, this time for an entirely different reason “ Whipped cream? Chocolate? Now?” you questioned your mind drifting back to what happened the last time that combination appeared between the three of you; the result were the twins.
Following your trail of thought Dazai chuckled and rested his head on your shoulder, arms slightly tighter around your waist; “ Bella as much as I’d love to ravish you now until you lose your voice and can’t walk; you aren’t ready yet” 
His words made you deadpan slightly; “ Dazai, I’m not a virgin. I’m more than “ready” for sex” You comment made him chuckle humorlessly as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. 
“ You’ve had a tough delivery with a long hospital stay and then two months of utter hell, alone, with twins while juggling our work and managing the house.” another kiss, this one to the spot right where your shirt met your neck. “ You haven’t healed physically, you’re exhausted and tense mentally and we’ve neglected our partner duties for a while now.” 
Chuuya sighed heavily at Dazai’s words as he sat down on the chair beside you, his body and attention turned entirely towards you. He reached forward to a pitted cherry and dipped it in the tiniest bit of dark chocolate before bringing it up to your lips.“ Sweetheart, please eat something. Jokes aside you’ve barely gotten anything into you.” 
You huffed at Chuuya and rolled your eyes refusing the fruit until you’d know what the hell those two were playing at; “I eat, and I’m not all that hungry and also take vitamins to make sure that the milk is nutritious and the doctor check ups have gone—”
“ –Baby it’s not about the twins!” Chuuya’s rough and loud voice startled you, making a wave of guilt and sadness wash over you. You took a shaky breath, not understanding why he was suddenly so– so 
” Shit, shh sorry sweetheart,” Chuuya’s hands wore on either side of your face, stroking your cheeks and catching any and all tears you’d spill. His blue eyes stared seriously into yours. There wasn’t an ounce of humour or lies on his face, just worry and a hint of guilt “ Both me and Dazai know you’re a wonderful mother- a superwoman and while away we knew the twins would be more than well taken care of. You on the other hand are a different story.” 
“ Belladonna for once there’s no hidden agenda or clause. Just two idiots trying to make up for lost time. Will you let us?” Dazai pressed another kiss to your shoulder as Chuuya gave you a half sad- half hopeful smile before once again raising the chocolate covered cherry to your lips. You parted them for him slightly. Carefully he pushed it in your mouth, smearing the tiniest bit of chocolate and cherry on your upper lip, which he wiped off with his thumb. Then he brought it to his mouth and gave a lick. 
“ hmm they’re not as sweet as I thought, how about some milk or white chocolate doll?” Chuuya grinned as he prepared several cherries in different chocolate combinations.
Oh how could you say no to that? 
For every berry you ate, you saw Chuuya’s grin grow wider and wider. It looked as if he was ready to jump out of his seat and cheer the second the cherry landed past your lips while Dazai pressed more and more kisses to your clothes. 
After a while your eyes landed on a sheet of paper near your computer “ What’s that?” You asked, your eyes flickering towards an unfamiliar table hand drawn with columns and times. The glint in Dazai’s eyes told you, you shouldn’t have asked. 
“This is Dazai’s getting-Y/N-back-to-regular-eating plan- So tonight we start with berries and chocolate- stuff you’ve always been a sucker for Belladonna. Then tomorrow it will be cooked rice for breakfast with steamed vegetables and if you can manage than a bowl of miso and then for lunch–” Dazai rambled on, pointing out different times and the variety of dishes, snacks and back up snacks he planned to make sure you would go back to the regular three-times a day eating healthy and balanced meals. 
In the meantime Chuuya fed you chocolate and cream covered fruit one by one, the only time he’d pause was whenever he’d purposefully smear a bit of the sweet treat on your lips and kiss it off; a silent request for you to just relax and let them take care of your for a change. 
The sign of affection made you smile and helped ease some of your anxiety. You weren’t going to be fooled into believing that this was honestly done for your sake and not the twins. And that they didn’t have some kind of agenda behind their actions. Still you’d rather cling to any scraps of attention they spare for you than face the bitter truth of what your relationship has become.
For now.  ---
All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!
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alicerosejensen · 5 months
Text
Warning: unhealthy relationship; Dark; not a yandere Leon but almost; the reader has no family and friends; Rescuer syndrome (if you look really closely at the very beginning); mentions of alcohol; Dom!Leon; fem/reader; Older!Leon; Mentions of pregnancy;
Summary: He will love you until his death. You are his and no one else's.
A/N: English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes. Also I don't approve of this crap in real life and if it triggers you, please look at the warning again and skip it. Just because I write doesn't mean it's cool in real life. Build only healthy relationships based on mutual love, trust, compromises without violence.
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If you look closely, neither of you two were healthy enough to build a relationship.
Of course you're not a pet. Even if you is devoted to him like a dog whose owner is drowning on the Titanic, and Leon has long been sinking. Of course, he does not consider you an animal and he is sincerely sorry that because of your injuries you cling to him, and he, in turn, succumbs to the selfish desire to keep his girl close to him.
You were so young and alone that, apparently due to your childhood traumas, you sought love from someone who tried to cope with his traumas with the help of alcohol. Leon didn't think he should have touched you at all. In his opinion, everything he touches turns to shit, and he didn't mean to hurt you at all. Besides, he believed that seducing such a young girl, even if you are of age, is almost a crime, however, he could not stop being drawn to you. My God, he’s already turning 40 and you’re a little over 20. Do girls your age hang out with such old men? You should find a young guy with whom you can do all sorts of stupid things while being on the same wavelength, and not cling to his back like a lost child. But in general, it’s not really a fact, but just an observation, but lonely people often have pets to while away their unbearable loneliness. Leon does not have the opportunity to get a dog or a cat, his job means that he spends little time at home, but...
At night, you sleep soundly, throwing your leg over him and reaching out with your arms to hug him. Leon catches himself thinking that he likes to listen to measured breathing and feel the soft skin on his body. His sweet girl... in your sleep you feel how other people's fingers are drawing patterns on your back and you fucking like it. Don’t care about studying, which can open the door to the world of a good career with a decent salary, love into which you dive headfirst is the most beautiful thing that has happened in your life.
And you are ready to hold on to him until the last... Well, actually, just like he does to you.
It’s deep night outside, the bedroom is in wireless darkness, which Leon is so afraid of because of painful memories, but why is he calm now when you’re sleeping so quietly next to him.
"Bunny?" Leon rarely calls you that, but those cute pajamas of yours with the bunny ears on the tank top make him smile, kissing your forehead because your sleep, unlike him, is quite sound.
In fact, he feels like a son of a bitch who sleeps with a girl half his age and, to Leon’s own horror, it’s not even lust. He himself doesn’t fully understand what kind of crap is happening to him, but the point is that he really feels for you... high feelings. At least every day it becomes more and more difficult to let you out of his arms.
But you're sleeping. An absolute angel and Leon wonders if he can mistake your compassion for love? Or do you just have daddy issues? Thinking about this, Leon grins, burying his nose in your hair. He has his faithful “Matilda” in his bedside table, and, in theory, he has nothing to fear, but he is unlikely to be able to live with such crap as before 1998. You planted an obsession for him, gradually nurturing and strengthening it, like a caring gardener painstakingly working on his favorite flower. You yourself cling to him, adjoining him, you are even ready to give up all prospects for your future life for the sake of him alone.
Leon kisses you and strokes your cheek with his thumb, pressing you to his chest, finally closing his eyes and falling into sleep.
Actually, Leon thinks that it’s all your fault. Who if not you?! It’s like you’re deliberately making him worry by putting the phone on silent or calling him back too late, which is why he gradually seems to lose his mind if he can’t be sure that everything is okay. He screams and you cry and apologize to him because you are afraid that he will leave you alone. This is your biggest fear, even if Leon had nothing like that in his thoughts. For heaven's sake, he really hates your tears and he hates feeling guilty about it even more.
"Just don't make me worry anymore" He asks in a soothing tone, pressing your trembling body to him.
And you nod your head, feeling how painful your stomach is from the stress you have experienced and your conflict with him.
"I'll never again...I swear"
You are a stone on his neck, which he in theory can throw off but does not want to. What's going on with you two is clearly not normal. This is immediately noticed by Claire watching how you loyally sit next to him and seem to be interested in nothing but Leon. Seriously, of course, few people from her inner circle like a secular reception, but Claire really thinks it's very strange.
"She's…" Redfield notices your discomfort when Leon walks away to talk to her. However, he himself constantly turns around to look after you while you are nervously sitting at a table with a half-empty glass looking at him with deer eyes. "How old is she? In my opinion, you don't really look like a guy who…indulging in young girls"
Leon squints into Claire's eyes. In truth, part of him realizes that she is saying a clever thought and the other begins to howl unbearably, because you are really the nicest thing that has happened in the last years of his life. So why the hell should he constantly give up his human happiness just because it allegedly does not fit into the worldview of other people?!
"I'm not keeping her forcibly next to me," he replied rudely, and Claire shuddered at the unusual cold tone, "She can leave if she wants to, but she doesn't want to."
Well, who will look after you if even all your loved ones have abandoned you?
The Redfields look disapproving, and when Leon returns to the table in a bad mood, they both see you clinging to his hand, anxiously flapping your eyes, calming down only when he quickly kisses you on the cheek and runs his palm over your back. However, Leon has never really hurt you. After a while, Claire even gets used to this abnormal connection between her friend and his young girlfriend, only rolls her eyes when she sees that Leon constantly sends you messages, checking how well you took care of yourself while he was away.
"She has problems with dad" is a fair conclusion, which Leon deliberately ignored, without commenting on it in any way.
And it wasn't even untrue. With Leon's help, you unconsciously compensated for what you were not given as a child, in turn, Leon himself treated himself with your presence. Because he knows for sure that when he wakes up, you will be next to him in bed, and you will not run away while he sleeps, leaving a paper airplane with traces of scarlet lipstick on his lips and a short signature "See you later", along with the fading scent of perfume in the room. He doesn't need to worry about where you are in the evening, because you are either in the living room watching TV, or in the bedroom, or in the kitchen. No matter what you are doing, the main thing is in his field of vision. If he need to call out to you, then you will respond, and this is the most important thing for him - to know that you are always in close proximity to him.
With each passing year, his control grows, building strict rules.
There is no point in listing them, and Leon knows that you would not violate anything even if you knew nothing about them. Mostly it was just for peace of mind. You walk only with him, don’t lift weights, communicate with strangers to a minimum and... yes, you don’t go to college anymore, because he doesn’t always have time to pick you up from there after classes, well, you can’t say that you were completely against it . There were already enough missed classes for this to become a problem. Anyone's problem but not yours, because...
“I will support you perfectly. My credit card is at your disposal, buy whatever you want or wait for me, sweetheart"
You weren’t a shopaholic, but sometimes you indulged in expensive purchases. Leon never objected.
They took care of you, you didn’t have to study or work, you could sleep until lunchtime, the only important thing was to remain an obedient girl for your Leon, who was too fixated on you. No normal person would consider what was happening to be normal, when you literally cannot leave the house without someone else’s permission. Should you walk to the store for groceries or just a short jog in the morning? Strictly prohibited! Of course you can with Leon, because in his opinion he is a guarantee that everything will be fine with you as long as he is around. You won’t be attacked by some crazy person or a rabid dog, he will carefully check the expiration date on the packages so that his bunny doesn’t get poisoned and other little things that were completely absurd.
It’s remarkable that you were an obedient girl, because your subconscious said that if you make even the slightest mistake, the retribution would be terrible, only the fear was not because of physical violence (no, he doesn’t beat you at all) but because you were afraid that Leon would find yourself another girlfriend, leaving you to choke on your own love or even kill yourself.
Although Leon didn’t threaten to break up with you at all. All lovers quarrel, but you were literally shaking with fear that everything would end, as if the sky would fall to the ground or the sun would stop shining, destroying all living things. No, of course Leon wouldn’t leave you, because his love is no less sick than yours. So his fear is that you'll probably realize he's too old for you, as Claire tells him, and leave for a younger guy. Leon simply cannot tolerate this shit, so he locks you in his house. And still you don't mind.
Leon knows everything his angel likes, from food to your favorite color, which can change depending on your mood. Unlike you, he himself was quite secretive, but you knew well some of his preferences and how to behave when his self-esteem fell through the roof after yet another death at work. Sometimes it was necessary to sit quietly in the next room, but more often just sit on his lap, stroke his head and kiss him. Kiss a lot.
And yet Leon was afraid that you would find a replacement for him.
Therefore, it was necessary to tie you to him so that no one could ever take you away from him. And the only option that Leon saw was to become a father.
“Are you serious?! Damn it, what’s happening to you?! Did she really so calmly agree to conceive a child with you?!”
For God's sake, the way Claire screams makes Leon's ears pop. In fact, only he planned, with only one goal to make you stay with him and fulfill his old dream of a family. But he will say that this was discussed with you and, in fact, you and he even managed to argue about names and what color you would decorate the nursery, which of course was not true, but Claire and others don’t need to know about it.
Leon didn’t even bring up this topic of conversation with you, he just pierced a few with a condoms and, fortunately for him, the result did not take long to arrive. With the first signs, Leon immediately knew that the pregnancy tests would show a positive result and yet he takes care of you when vomit turns your stomach. Like a caring daddy who collects your hair at the back of your head while you spew out everything you’ve eaten and strokes your back, supporting you. A warm blanket, a dim light, a pat on your stomach? It's all for you, baby, and for this little pea inside of you. Leon suppresses a grin, believing that his plan has worked... which is really the case.
"Oh, sweetheart, I hope it's tears of joy, because you don't have a single reason to cry anymore," Leon says when he looks at you crying sitting on the toilet lid, hugging his shoulder, and a positive test is lying on the floor next to you.
Complete shit, but you were crying literally because you were afraid that he would definitely leave now. Fortunately, luck, as you naively believed, has not left you.
Leon did everything to ensure that his little American dream and family were safe under his complete control. Firstly, he immediately said that his child needed more space, although the apartment was spacious enough and the three of them could live here in peace, especially since there was a park nearby, but Leon needed a house. The one that no one will stick their nose into, although in fact, despite the quarrel with Claire and the others, he is thinking of inviting them to the birth of a child. And he's not going to completely isolate you from others. Courses for young mothers, the same walks with a stroller near the house, it was necessary, especially since the baby and mom need fresh air.
You are required to obey and strictly follow all the doctor's recommendations as before. Of course, Leon takes you to all prenatal appointments to make sure that everything is fine, it gives him an unprecedented delight to be next to you at the first ultrasound. Damn, baby, you have to give him a girl! Although he wasn't against the boy.
It is noteworthy that you have never said a word against. After all, everything was fine with you: huge care, a new big house with a small extension for a playground in the backyard, which hinted at the obvious fact that this is your first child with Leon, but not the last. However, how much love he gives you while you are pregnant compensates for all the ailments!
And when you finally give birth, Leon, of course, next to you meets his sweet girl, whose fate, as he thinks, can only be envied. At least now you won’t leave him anywhere, but will forever remain with you and next to you, cherishing your little girl whom he is going to spoil just like her mommy. Leon will put the crib next to the bed, make a new schedule and take a million photos of his happy family.
He adores you and that's all you need. In the end, Leon even admits to himself that he didn’t need the child as much as you, and only Claire and Chris seem to see how abnormal this relationship is.
Only Leon doesn't care anymore.
And you too.
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writingmysanity · 6 months
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Did I miss it?
Pairing: Zoro x reader
Word count: 1600
TW: drinking, reader is tipsy for sure.
A/N: Happy Birthday, Lissie!! Okay, lets try this again. My computer crashed half way through what I was writing and I lost… everything. I know I asked you a tough question the other day, and you answered lol much to your own pain – so here you go. I truly hope you enjoy. Thank you so much for being my friend and enabling me in my deranged thoughts in our messages. You're such a kind soul, and such a good mum.
I hope you’re spending your free time re-watching the video from Taz and resting. Perhaps thirsting. @stray-kaz
A/N continued: this is the first time i am writing for Zoro, I am pretty sure he is ooc here. i claim being out of practice.
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Despite how the shouts and cheers of your crew mates seem to linger around you, their laughter resting in the gusts of wind, the night is quiet. Their words are whisked away without thought or care into the night, seeming to echo back from the depths of the bay as nothing more than whispers. Obsidian waves lap at the hull of the ship, rocking the ship slowly to the tune of what your mother called the whiskey lullaby.
Taking a deep breath, you melt into the side of the ship, sinking to your knees to rest against the railing, still cradling your own glass to your chest. Moonlight washes over the deck, casting the whole of everything you can see with a blue-ish hue. The sight never ceases to amaze you, a gentle smile resting on your lips as you take in your crew, littered about the open space in various rather uncomfortable positions that make you laugh.
If you were a little less drunk, you would move to try and help them shift into at least more comfortable positions. But as things stand currently, you find you are unable to stand properly when the ship and your vision continue to move. Slowly, you shift to face out towards the water, slotting your legs through the railings to allow them to dangle, resting your head against the wood with a sigh.
Celebrations aren’t uncommon for the straw hats, and you have come to even enjoy their rambunctious energy since you joined the ragtag group of pirates. You are certainly still learning to accept their willingness to celebrate you, they certainly have made you feel as part of their family, safe and accepted,but something is missing.
A certain head of moss colored hair.
Not two weeks prior, Luffy had sent his first mate off on a special retrieval mission. Zoro had been nervous to leave, knowing he wouldn’t be able to be there for his crew, but also the certainty that he wouldn’t be able to be there for you.
Normally, he would have already crowded you away in the crows nest or back in the kitchen hiding behind the island, finishing off the last of the liquor with you, his attention solely on you. Those dark eyes locked on your form beside him as he listened to you drunkenly ramble about whatever seemed to have caught your fancy that night. The thought of not getting to celebrate with him weighing heavier on your heart than you expected it to.
You have long since stopped trying to deny your feelings for the swordsman, and though unspoken, you know he feels the same – though neither of you have tried to push it further.
Sitting in silence, you let the rush of the waters below over take your senses, the distant push and pull dancing beneath your feet coupled with the distant cry of a sea bird lifting from the oceans surface. So engrossed in your thoughts and the siren call of the sea, you don’t hear the steps rushing up the plank of wood connecting the ship to the harbor, nor the gentle bumps of the body stumbling up onto the deck as they make their way to you. You don’t hear any of it, until his voice startles you from your reverie, the depths of your thoughts lingering on him more than you would ever admit to anyone else.
“Did I miss it?” his voice is slow, measured as you yank yourself around with a gasp, nearly throwing your glass at him in surprise. At this, he chuckles, slowly moving to kneel before you, careful of his swords and your hold on the cup as he tugs it from your hand.
“Zo…” he nods slowly, gaze softening in a way that you've learned is meant only for you. “You startled me.” you confess, the drunken tilt to your words making him frown slightly. You're out here, drunk, and the only one awake.
“I noticed,” he states calmly as he slides closer, sitting beside you, relaxing at the near awestruck look painting your face, eyes wide and glassy with emotions you've yet to speak on, lips parted. “I’m sorry I’m late.” he starts again. “Did I miss it?”
“I thought you weren’t meant to be back until next week,” you stumble out, reaching for him, completely ignoring his question. Or not hearing it. Chuckling, again, he lets you tug him closer, one hand resting on his arm, the other taking the opposite hand.
“I took larger steps,” he half jokes, running his thumb over your knuckles with a gentleness no one else would believe he is capable of, your laughter earning one of his rare smiles. “Now, please answer me this time, pretty girl.” he asks slowly, catching your attention as he rests his free hand on your cheek. Nodding slowly, your eyes lock with his, immediately lost in the depths of the blackened seas washing in his gaze.
“Did I miss it?” he asks again, gently emphasizing each word. At this, you frown slightly, looking up to the moon, as if trying to discern the time. Between your addled brain, and your excitement at seeing him again so soon, you shrug with a crooked grin that leaves him dizzy.
“I don’t know,” you state honestly. “we can say no,” you offer, eyes softening as you match his gaze again, able to see that this means something to him. Sighing in relief, his shoulders sag a bit before he moves away from you, earning a soft whine. His shoulders shake at the sound, eyeing you amused.
“patience, princess,” he chides, pulling a box from the bag at his side, setting it in your lap. Its not big, it can fit in the palm of your hand, but it is expertly wrapped, a beautiful bow resting on top. Frowning, you lift it to your face, shaking it.
“What is it?” you hum, tilting your head at it. He huffs a bit, amused. He has never dealt with you when drunk, at least, not without the both of you being drunk together.
“Open it and find out,” his normal measured voice laced with an amusement he would deny later. Beaming up at him, you nod, tugging the bow lightly, watching it fall away with ease before tugging at the corner of the beautiful silver paper that gleams in the moonlight. Inside is a small box. There is nothing too special about it, a simple smooth brown box. Humming in curiosity, you tug it open, peeking in as if something would jump out before the top fumbles off completely. Inside is a thin silver chain.
Frowning, you tug it up, watching in awe as the charm swings to the end.
At first, all you're able to discern is that the charm is a silver circle. Clumsily, you grab at it, wanting to look closer, oblivious to zoro’s anxious shifting beside you. On one side, there is a compass etched into it, careful practiced lines marking each direction with a small brilliant emerald resting in the center. You stare at it for a moment before realizing you can feel the same raised edges on the other side.
Flipping it slowly, your eyebrows furrow as you try to read it, scrawled in perfect cursive.
Lets get lost together
head whipping to him, your eyes are wide, gaping at him. He shifts slightly, moving away from the railing now, eyes flitting between you and the necklace.
“Do.. do you like it?” his voice is quiet, all of his insecurities and internal doubts swarming him as you sit there, staring. After a minute of tense silence, he shakes his head, jaw tense as he moves to stand. “I knew it was a bad idea” he sighs, moving to take the offending item from your grasp, but you refuse to let go.
“you mean it?” your voice almost whisked away by the wind its so soft. This is as close to a confession as hes ever gotten other than a drunken “I like your face” or one of his pet names you’ve come to adore. He pauses again, uncertainty resting clear in his eyes as he nods slowly.
“Yeah,” his voice is quiet, watching as your demeanor switches from quiet and contemplative to bright and excited – the brilliance he finds himself melting for. Quickly, you turn, scootching the best you can, drunk and sitting, to turn your back to him while holding the necklace up impatiently.
“Put it on me,” you nearly demand before pausing, looking at him pleadingly over your shoulder. “Please.” shaking his head at your antics, he takes it from your hand gently, slowly shifting to his knees to raise it over your head and around your neck from behind. Once its clasped, he tugs it loose, allowing it to rest over your shirt, his touch lingering on your neck as he leans down slowly to whisper in your ear, the sensation making you shiver.
“Happy birthday, Princess.”
======
happy birthday, my friend. It was super quick, but I really hope you enjoy it or at least get a chuckle out of it. I hope your day is the best.
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aesethewitch · 9 months
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Beef Stew Recipe - Potion of Fortitude
Whether it's been an exhausting week, a frigid winter's day, or just a stressful time, few things are more comforting than a hearty bowl of stew. I make this beef stew for myself whenever I need a true pick-me-up or when I'm preparing for an in-depth magical working. It provides lasting energy, warmth, and strength.
Plus, this recipe is scalable - make a ton and freeze it to enjoy for weeks or just make a little bit for one meal. The measurements below are approximate; measure with your heart.
Ingredients:
Chuck roast, cut to half-inch cubes (you can get pre-chunked stew meat, which is what I typically get)
Flour, enough to coat the beef
Salt and Pepper (about 1 tsp salt & 1/2 tsp pepper), for seasoning the beef coating
2 tablespoons Unsalted Butter
1 Onion, diced
2 Large Potatoes, peeled and cut into half-inch to one-inch cubes
2 Carrots, peeled and cut into rounds
5-6 Cloves of Garlic, finely diced
4 cups Beef Broth
Herbs of your choice, such as: Sage, Thyme, Marjoram, Celery Seed, Bay, Chili Flakes
Additional veggies of your choice, such as: Parsnips, Turnips, Bok Choy
Salt and Pepper to taste
Instructions:
Mix together your flour, salt, and pepper in a bowl. Toss the beef chunks in the mixture to coat. This will create a nice brown crispiness on the outside.
In your stew pot, sauté your flour-coated beef until browned on all sides. Remove from the pot and set aside.
Add more oil to your pot and cook your onion until translucent. If you don't mind soft carrots in your stew, add them now and cook until just starting to soften and brown. (Note: I often leave the carrots until after the potatoes are nearly cooked through because I don't like the texture of fully-cooked carrots.)
Once your onions are translucent and your carrots have started to soften/brown, toss in your butter and scrape the bottom of the pot. You want to get all those beautiful, delicious brown bits back into the mixture. You can add a little water if you need help loosening the bits.
Add your garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds.
Put your beef back into the pot (along with any drippings from the plate/bowl you placed it in). Pour your broth over everything and give it all a good stir.
Toss your potatoes into the pot. Bring it all to a boil and reduce your heat to let it simmer.
Add your herbs and spices. I recommend salt, pepper, sage, thyme, celery seed (or salt), and bay. If you like it spicy, you can throw in a bit of chili powder or flakes.
Simmer for at least one hour or until your potatoes are soft and your beef becomes tender, stirring occasionally.
If your stew isn't thick enough by the time your potatoes are done, you can make a cornstarch slurry by combining one tablespoon of cornstarch with two tablespoons of water. Pour the slurry into the stew and let it cook until thickened to your desired consistency.
Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Serve with crusty bread, veggie side dishes, or whatever else you like.
Optional magic you can include:
As mentioned above, I often use this recipe to bolster or replenish my energy before or after an intense magical working. It also works for physical exertions - I made this for a group of my partner's friends while they were moving heavy furniture to a new apartment, and it gave them all the energy to move everything in one night!
This stew has an intense comforting effect. If someone I know has been working hard, stressing out, or hasn't been feeding themselves properly, I'll make this for them to help them remember to take care of themselves. It's rejuvenating, hearty, and full of love.
Depending on the herbs you choose to include, this could also be a powerful protection spell. Especially in the cold months, I use this as a protective ward against the cold exhaustion that pulls at the body and mind.
Pop a bit of chili in this spell to both speed up its effects and cast out negativity! Nothing clears the sinuses like a nose full of spice, and nothing clears the body of bad vibes like a good dose of chili flake.
Like many of my spell recipes, this one is most effective when it's shared. Give a bowl to your friends, your family, your neighbors, whoever. It makes a wonderful offering to house spirits or ancestors.
If you make this recipe, please let me know your thoughts! And if you enjoy this or my other posts, please consider dropping a couple dollars in my Ko-Fi tip jar!
Happy cooking, witches! 🍲
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gothgleek · 28 days
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Spiderman!Spencer x Seamstress!Fem!Reader
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Spencer finds out he’s got super powers and he’s got the brain, powers, and abilities to become a superhero. Now all he needs is a costume. That’s where you come in.
Outline for a Spiderman!Spencer fic I’m writing based this post by @reidcoffeemoon. Let me know if anyone would actually be interested in reading a full version of it. Also please like and reblog, it’s my birthday today💕💕💕
•The two of you met at a Halloween party thrown by Penelope. You are a seamstress and whenever someone complimented your costume, you would proudly ramble about of the type of fabric you used.
•Spencer was the only one who actually listened and responded with his own facts about the fabric’s history.
•You gasped and smiled, raising your left hand to your chest. “You are my new favorite person.” You declared.
•While talking, you both found out you’re from Vegas. You worked as a seamstress for a burlesque show off the strip and did cosplay part time while he was off at learning Caltech. The two of you bond over a restaurant that shut down five years ago.
•Now in DC, you worked as a seamstress for the local theater and managed a thrift store by the university he works at. Cosplay makes up most of your income but you dream of creating a lingerie line.
•The two of you agree to meet up for coffee but before that happens, Spencer gets bitten by a spider.
• Was he was bitten by a spider while investigating an unsub who killed his victims spider venoms or did he wander into the wrong room while touring a science facility?
•Derek convinces him to try out being a superhero. Derek is part of a secret superhero group (The Avengers) and would like his friend to join (once he knows Spencer can handle superhero work).
•Spencer calls you a few weeks later. “Hey, um, I wanted your opinion on something. What kind of materials do you recommend for a sort of… workout costume?”
•Thankfully, you’ve been asked weirder questions throughout your career so it didn’t even phase you.
•You respond in a rambling style that would’ve confused other people, but not Spencer.
•”They’ve actually done some test work on using spider webs for body armor but the tests didn’t yield the best results but I think…”
•He listened to you talk while he designed a web slinging contraption for his wrists, occasionally throwing in a comment or two.
•He visits your thrift store a few days later to discuss his little project a little more.
•When it becomes apparent his skills aren’t as advanced as yours, you offer your services and schedule him to come to your place over the weekend.
•It’s purely friendly… but you can’t help but if some less than platonic thoughts come up while looking at certain measurements.
•Those less than platonic feelings did make you blind to some of his questions.
But if anyone asked you would say you’ve had weirder requests.
•“Would it be possible to make it bullet proof? And um… do you know how to make the fingers more um… thin but not thin?”
•The two of you kept meeting up to discuss his costume and sometimes even other things.
You never met anyone who made Russian lit or etymology sound so exciting before.
•But all things come to an end and once his costume is done you don’t see him for another few weeks. It sucks but life goes on.
You ignore the hurt in your stomach when he doesn’t respond to your text about asking about the foreign film fest at the local theater.
•Then, one night after work, you find yourself being on the wrong end of a gun by a mugger.
•Before you can handover your wallet however, a dark figure jumps down and when you open your eyes, the mugger is stuck to the wall with a sort of strange white substance.
•The figure pulls you to the top of the roof and you can finally get a good look at him.
•Spandex that shined in the same weaving pattern as the combination of rayon and viscose? Hands that were 7.49 inches long and 3.60 inches wide? The mask you spent the last two weeks creating?
•You squinted at him.
•“Spencer?!?”
•One long conversation in Spencer’s apartment later, and you’re telling him to come back so you can modify his suit to actually be made for crime fighting.
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wittlebeary · 7 days
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The Gem of the Seven Crowns ( X )
Dark Royals:
-> Poly OT7/Reader | Fantasy | Angst | Feels
Summary: It was simply supposed to be a night of pretend. Dress up and feel like a princess for a couple hours and dance with strangers hidden by masks never to see them again. Then it was back to reality because fairytales are only make believe after all. Y/N is about to discover that just because fairytales are make believe doesn't mean they're not true.
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Prologue
The sun cast its warm rays down to a luscious field of grass splattered with every flower possible. Noises of laughter and playful shouting seemed to reach the furthest points of the never-ending field. Sitting on a white blanket were three men; one making flower crowns, one taking food out from a picnic basket and spreading it over the blanket, and the third in a light slumber his head resting on the leg of the man making the flower crowns. Not too far from the blanket four other men run around participating in what seems like a child's game of tag. The tallest among the four was being chased by the other three. A man with long black hair tied in a low ponytail kept together by a purple ribbon seemed to be the fastest closing the distance between the taller of the four and himself. The other two didn't seem as competitive as they were holding hands and only slightly running after the tallest.
"Gotcha Jin Hyung," Jungkook, the man with the ponytail happily yells tackling the tallest to the ground.
Jin very ungracefully falls to the grass wrapping his arms around Jungkook and bringing him down as well. The two break out into happy laughter panting trying to catch their breath. The other two reach up to Jin and Jungkook smiling seeing the two acting like children.
"You two better get up before bugs start covering you. Hobi Hyung will never give you snuggles again," the man with black hair and dark blue streaks chuckles holding out his hand for them.
"Hobi Hyung loves us too much to not snuggle us," Jungkook pouts getting up from the grass and brushing himself off for good measures.
"That's only cause you're the baby here. He won't snuggle Jin Hyung until he takes at least five showers. You know how he hates bugs. It's a miracle our TaeTae over here even convinced him to go on this picnic with us," Jimin says ruffling Jungkook's hair while Taeyhung helps Jin up.
The man with dark blue hair that is shoulder length smiles his boxy smile at them flustered by the praise. They all walk back to the blanket starving from all the running ready to dig into the delicious food.
"Aww is our little meow meow enjoying the sun?" Taehyung coos to the snoozing man who has his arms wrapped around the other man's leg trapping him to the blanket.
"Let Yoon-ah sleep TaeTae he had a long week with the other kingdoms. Go annoy Hob-ah," Jin gently scolds Taehyung Hobi holding out his arms for the pouting boy.
Like nothing Taehyung throws himself at Hoseok nuzzling into his chest that adorable boxy smile on him again. Jungkook, Jimin, and Jin sit on the blanket making sure to not disturb Yoongie. It was true, Yoongie spent all week trying to settle an agreement with a neighboring kingdom something. They could never do what Yoongie did, that is how good he is. Maybe Namjoon but he would probably get very overstimulated very quickly.
"Joon-ah those are lovely dear," Jin says sitting behind Namjoon gently pulling the taller and muscular man against his chest watching him weave flowers around one another to make a flower crown.
"I made seven for us. The ones I made last spring are wilting," Namjoon says checking his work before placing it on Jin's head smiling.
Jin fixes the crown gently pulling Namjoon's chin closer to him placing a tender kiss on his lips. Namjoon goes as red and tomato causing Jin to adore him that much more. How can one of the most feared sword masters turn into a flushed mess? It never amazed the seven of them how tough and cold they seemed to everyone, one compliment or kiss can undo them right there and then. Their kryptonite or weak spot. Namjoon gives the other six crowns out smiling bigger and bigger each time one of them puts them on. He puts Yoongie's crown to the side not wanting to disturb his Hyung.
"Give me my crown Joon-ah, I will not be without your crown you worked over three hours on them. Over my dead body will I ever not wear it," Yoongie grumbles waking up very much like a cat pointing to his head pouting, and crossing his arms.
Namjoon and the rest of the men chuckle at Yoongie as Namjoon places the crown gently on Yoongie's fluffy hair placing a kiss on his forehead. Everyone giggles and kisses all over his face too not wanting to get in on the action of making Yoongie a flustered mess. The seven of them all relax and dig into the beautiful lunch that Jin and Yoongie prepared for them. There is a moment of silence as everyone is just enjoying the food and the beautiful day free of any kingdom duties.
"We should have another ball," Taehyung says out of the blue swallowing the last of his pastry a little frosting on the corner of his lips.
"A party? A little random there isn't it? Why do you want a party with snobbish people trying to get our attention," Jimin asks from where he is lying against Yoongie's chest.
Jungkook leaned forward swiping the frosting from Taehyung's lip and placing it into his own mouth keeping eye contact with Taehyung the whole time making the second youngest cough in shyness busying himself with the crown he placed to the side.
"I don't know we haven't had a ball in so long and yeah it's not fun but I like to mingle! We need a break from seriousness all the time. Why should be able to let loose too and mingle around!" Taehyung huffs crossing his arms trying to sway them.
"Mingle you say? Is the seven of us not enough to placid you," Jungkook grumbles pulling Taehyung from the collar of his shirt so they are face to face pressing a kiss to his lips a little heat behind it.
The others roll their eyes at the two youngest watching them make out in front of them a smile on their face. Even though Jungkook was the youngest he did know how to handle himself. If he wanted something or someone he would get it in anyways mean. Taehyung gasped as Jungkook created a beautiful necklace of hickeys around Taehyung's neck smirking at his work.
"Okay okay enough before this turns into a orgy. Taehyung is right we should let loose. We will see about a ball, I'm not saying it will be a definite but we will see," Yoongie says pulling Jungkook into his lap and Taehyung into Hoseok's lap.
The two of them laugh nuzzling into the older enjoying the moment with the seven of them. They wouldn't want it any other way. They wish they could stay like this forever in this field but that is not reality so might as well soak it in now.
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The Sleeping Habits of one Miguel O’hara
One-Shot || Peter B Parker x Miguel O’hara || Gen
This is unbeta’d, written in tumblr, and unedited, so any mistakes are mine alone! If there are any egregious errors, please feel free to (respectfully) reach out and I’ll fix them asap! I hope you enjoy!
———
No one had ever seen Miguel sleep. Doze, sure, but that was only late at night, and only if you were unlucky enough to wander into Miguel’s darkened lab when he hadn’t yet dragged himself back to wherever it was that he found even the scantest scrap of comfort. On nights like those, Miguel could be found slumped over the nearest lab table, forehead braced against his forearm on the tabletop. And then, mere moments later, his red eyes would blink open, as silent as a predator’s, glowing in the pitch-dark room, and the room’s occupancy would very quickly return to one.
But no one had ever seen Miguel sleep. The rumor mill abounded with speculation, each more ridiculous than the last, but only barely; he sleeps upside down like a bat, he sleeps stark naked, he sleeps in vats of fresh blood. Peter B had never paid such whisperings any mind, far more focused on his own sleep schedule and the toddler that wreaked havoc on it.
And then Peter B had confessed his feelings for his boss and, surprise of all surprises, hadn’t immediately gotten fired (or killed, he supposed, because he had seen Miguel’s talons in action and while their metal- and flesh-rending ability was agonizingly attractive in the field, he didn’t think Miguel would hesitate to use his natural weapons in any situation where he was uncomfortable, even emotionally.) Even more mind-bogglingly, Miguel had… reciprocated. Slowly, hesitantly, with all of the trepidation of someone who had been burned before, and then burned twice more for good measure.
It didn’t change much, if Peter were being honest with himself. He still co-parented with MJ. He still brought Mayday into Headquarters and, when the anomaly didn’t appear to be too dangerous, into the field. He still pestered Miguel within an inch of his life whenever he got the chance. He still wrangled spider-kids like he was paid to do it. He still did his job, when it was absolutely required of him to do so.
The only difference was that, now, he got to hold Miguel’s hand while he did it. Now, he got to throw a casual arm around Miguel’s shoulder while he made his characteristic dad jokes, giving Miguel a one-armed squeeze that conveyed more between them than words ever could. Now, he got to kiss Miguel for luck before every mission and he got to kiss Miguel in victory when they got back.
Their relationship didn’t change the fact, however, that Miguel was an incurable workaholic. Even with Peter pestering him to eat, leaving water bottles at his elbow during the day, and reminding him to sleep at some point during the night before leaving the lab to return to his shared apartment with MJ or (on nights where he hadn’t had Mayday at work that day) to the small living quarters in HQ that had been assigned to him, he knew that Miguel didn’t rest nearly enough. Something about vulnerability, Peter reasoned, and tried not to take it personally. Miguel didn’t rest around anyone; he hadn’t had the luxury of trusting the people around him and two months of love, no matter how all-encompassing or overwhelming, would change that.
So when Peter opened his HQ apartment door one night, more than ready to collapse against the nearest semi-horizontal surface and remain dead to the world for the next twelve hours straight, the last thing he expected to find was Miguel O’hara in his bed.
His first thought, irrationally, was that every single spider-person who had ever speculated about Miguel’s sleeping habits was dead wrong, because Miguel slept exactly like a normal person. Well, almost. He was on his back, which would’ve looked as stiff as a board (and therefore, not much of a difference from how he normally looked) if not for the almost delicate crossing of his bare ankles, the sleep-gentle curve of his fingers where they rested on his stomach, tilt of his head towards the window. The only light in the apartment came from the glow of the city through the window, casting a neon outline over the ridges of Miguel’s face, illuminating the long lines of his neck. Peter couldn’t help but to trace the length of the contorted muscles, twisted below Miguel’s skin; his gaze came to a rest in the tiny divot behind Miguel’s ear, a minuscule detail, so agonizingly human, and he was overwhelmed with the urge to press his lips to the fine bone of his boyfriend’s skull. He had the wherewithal to close the door, engaging the latch as quietly as possible so as not to wake the man in his bed and swearing softly when red eyes blinked open under a furrowed brow.
“Sorry love,” he whispered, toeing off his shoes and shucking his jacket to the floor. He could deal with then tomorrow. Right now, he needed to be in Miguel’s arms, preferably five minutes ago. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
The city glow silhouette shifted, warping in the near-darkness, and Peter’s heart rate kicked up in his chest at the half-concealed movement, every instinct, carefully honed from decades of constant danger, screaming at him to defend himself from the shadow that slithered across the floor. But his spider-sense wasn’t activated; the skin-deep vibration that accompanied every impending blow like lightening to thunder was comfortingly absent. And then the shadow took shape, forming thick-knuckled fingers and a scarred forearm, extending towards him like an invitation, like a demand, like a plea.
Miguel’s half-lidded eyes were still locked on him, sleepily glazed, his face still slack with residual relaxation that hadn’t yet sloughed off from the force of full wakefulness, and Peter’s entire chest clenched. He didn’t try to resist the pull, drawn to Miguel’s side like a magnet. As he took the few steps to the bed, he shed his clothes and by the time he reached the edge of the mattress, little more than a hospital mat with ill-fitting sheets, he was down to his boxers and socks and even in the inky black room, he knew Miguel could see the red and blue webbed pattern that criss-crossed the fabric. Sure enough, when he stepped into Miguel’s line of sight, he heard a familiar huff of exasperation. Only two months of experience enabled him to detect the fondness that laced the sound like veined marble. Peter smiled to himself, smiled down at his sleep-softened boyfriend, smiled in gratitude to the universe.
If he had expected to be allowed to arrange himself in his own bed, he was sorely mistaken. As soon as his hands and knees indented the mattress, prepared to crawl into as comfortable a position as the thin mat could provide, Miguel had his arms around him, tugging him sharply across the remaining space between them. Before he could register the movement, Peter found himself crushed between the mattress and Miguel’s broad bulk, and he suddenly had a much better idea of how pancakes felt when he pressed them down into the pan with his spatula on mornings when he cooked breakfast for Mayday.
He and Miguel were of a height, a fact that was so well hidden by Miguel’s love of raised platforms and dramatic entrances that it shocked nearly everyone who saw them standing together, but his considerable shoulder breadth made Peter feel like an ant underneath Miguel’s body. Only his spider strength lent his lungs the force required to expand. It wasn’t uncomfortable by any stretch; it reminded Peter of the time he had nearly been crushed by a flying slab of concrete and emerged five minutes later with every joint in his body cracked, every vertebrae in his spine popped, and more limber than he had been before being slammed into the ground by two tons of rock and rebar. It was grounding, more grounding than Peter had realized he had needed.
The expansion of his chest must’ve given Miguel concern, however, because he made a noise, something like a grunt but far more sympathetic, and made to move. The second his weight lifted, Peter snaked his arms around his boyfriend’s torso, locking him in place, and Miguel collapsed back down with a huff of amusement.
“Feels good,” Peter mumbled into the side of Miguel’s head. Hair tickled at his cheek and lips but he didn’t dare pull away. Miguel hummed and shifted slightly, settling into a more comfortable but no less compressing position and within seconds, was fast asleep again. His breath ghosted over Peter’s neck where his face was tucked, pebbling the sensitive skin, and Peter’s thoughts raced.
The first position he had found Miguel in had made sense. Most spider-people slept on their backs, ready to protect themselves at a moment’s notice, all of their enhanced senses well within reach and easy use at the first sign of danger. But this, the baring of Miguel’s back to the room, the vulnerability in Miguel’s hidden face, especially for someone without spider senses, was shocking. It didn’t make sense.
Peter pondered it for a while, his mind circling itself like an endless game of chase, every go around converging on one central, illusive conclusion that stubbornly remained concealed.
And then Peter shifted. Nothing major, a mere twitch of his arm, an itch that needed to be scratched, a mindless movement. Immediately, he froze as Miguel’s entire body vibrated above him, a deep rumble emanating from the depths of his chest, his grip tightening around Peter’s torso to the point of creaking ribs and stuttered breath, and it clicked.
Oh.
Oh.
Miguel had had an entire dimension stolen from him. A home, a family, a wife and daughter, all stolen unceremoniously right from under his nose. In the dead of night, with no warning or preamble, his entire world had collapsed into ruin and desolation and then nothing.
Suddenly his grip felt less crushing. The pressure hadn’t eased, and Peter knew that he’d have bruises in the morning, a ring of black and blue circling his chest, but he didn’t mind. Suddenly, he could feel the protectiveness that coursed through the muscles in Miguel’s arms. He could feel the challenge in his hold, as if daring the universe to try to steal Peter away from him. As if he’d fight God and man alike to keep Peter in his arms, and Peter knew he would.
Peter raised one arm, gently, softly, and placed it, gently, softly, in the thick mane of hair, curling it between his fingers, scratching at Miguel’s scalp with blunt fingernails.
“I’m right here, sweetheart,” he whispered, trusting enhanced senses to catch the barely-audible words. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Slowly, Miguel’s arms relaxed once more, returning from their current level of suffocating back to their previous level of merely constricting. His growling quieted to even purr, deepened further by the hand tangled in his hair.
Within minutes, the vibration rumbling through the entire bed, the scent of his own shampoo wafting from Miguel’s hair, and the weight of his boyfriend above him had lulled Peter into the deepest sleep he had ever gotten, and for once, he was blissfully untouched by nightmares.
———
Peter should’ve been prepared for the barrage of questions. Miguel had slipped from his room early the next morning, but not early enough to be undetected, and while the devil worked hard, but the rumor mill of the Spider Complex worked harder. So he should’ve braced himself for the onslaught of questions that the spider kids aimed at him as soon as he stepped foot into the dining hall for breakfast.
“Did Miguel sleep in your room last night?”
“Are the rumors true?”
“How much sleeping did you actually do?”
“Does he sleep at all or did he perch in the corner all night like a psychotic cat?”
That last one was the helpful input of Hobie and Peter rolled his eyes. It was far too early in the morning to deal with such pointed questions about his sex life and thinly veiled accusations about his boyfriend.
Across the room, he could feel the weight of Miguel’s gaze on him and a flick of Peter’s eyes revealed a subtle and convoluted maelstrom of emotions behind Miguel’s carefully schooled expression. Cautious hope warred with a silent plea and Peter could tell he was waiting for his response, waiting to see if Peter would reveal the depth of his vulnerability, the most sacred and coveted piece of him he had ever entrusted to Peter’s care.
With a half smile and a wink, Peter turned back to the gaggle of teenagers staring hopefully up at him, eyes wide and eager, fully expecting Peter to fuel the gossip circle and ready to take every word that dropped from his lips as gospel.
“Have you ever seen Interview with the Vampire?” Peter asked, grinning at the small chuckle he could hear floating from across the room, even over the sound of exaggerated gagging and riotous laughter that erupted around him. When he looked up, he met Miguel’s amused gaze, his eyes softened with gratitude and mirth, and they didn’t have to say anything. Even across the crowded room, their eyes said everything for them.
———
Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!
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