#so if that’s the case I’ll work on it

[acotarxreader]

Stress Relief

Azriel X Reader

Synopsis: Working for the Night Court has become near impossible with Azriel determined to drive you out the door but can a camping trip arranged by Rhys smooth things over.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, frenemies to lovers, lots of dialogue, if you see a typo no you didn't

A/N: Hehe this kinda long but I wanted to keep the chaos to one part. I'm finding writing since Other Worlds a bit stressy so I think posting this nonsense will help with that and we can return to out regularly scheduled programming. Let me know what you think!

Requests open! (I am working on your Cass request if you see this anon👀 )

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“YN you need to fucking relax”

“I suggest that you keep quiet Azriel if you'd like to keep your head attached to your shoulders” Azriel rolled his eyes at you from the couch as you paced up and down, trusty list in hand. 

“I’m just saying you’ll give yourself a heart attack”

“Hey! Do you want me to add your name to this list!”

“Az would only want to be on it if it's your To Do list” A pillow flew from alongside Azriel right at Cassian as he howled. 

“I’ll relax once we get there”

“Why do you get so fucking neurotic when it comes to travelling?”

“Why are you so fucking anno-”

“Okay okay stop it you too! We promised Feyre no fighting on Rhy’s big camping trip, she’s already upset Elain won’t come, just don’t add to her stress” You and Azriel groaned like scolded children at Cassian’s words. You counted the bags again, checking off your list as you went. Azriel stood to grab his bag, coming chest to chest with you before pushing past.

“I’m flying ahead because I can’t be around her uptight ass anymore”

“Aw you look at my ass” you smiled sarcastically as Cassian laughed in the background. 

-

You all finally arrived deep within the woods of the Night Court, luggage crashing down around the group. You couldn’t stop thinking that you had forgotten everything, glancing from the list to the pile repeatedly, your friends happily unpacking. The night had already begun to creep in, Azriel and you delaying the group by fighting about which was the fastest route to take. You busied yourself fixing up some of the tents as Azriel dug through the pile of bags in search of his own. 

“YN, what’s the plan for us sleeping together?”

“Excuse me?” you deadpaned to Azriel. 

“Sor-Sorry I meant the plan for sleeping?” he quickly corrected himself, his shadows doing their best to cover his rosie cheeks. 

“Well, Feyre & Rhysand, Cassian & Nesta, Amren & Mor and then I guess you and Lucien and then I get my own tent” you beamed, shaking a sleeping bag from its case. 

“Funny how that worked out isn't it” he remarked and you rolled your eyes but the group agreed to the sleeping arrangements, with further prodding for Lucien to agree. 

You gathered around the fire, feasting on the fire-roasted food Cassian did his best not to cremate, trading life stories in pure unadulterated ease, everything Rhysand had wanted for this trip. You swaddled yourself deeply into your sleeping bag as the fire began to sink beneath its tinder. 

“Do you regret leaving Summer Court for us YNN?” 

“I think I love the Night Court more than I ever could Summer” You smiled in reply to Cassian, your eyes flashing to Rhysand briefly before he launched into his favourite Tarquin story, Azriel noticing the fleeting glance seemingly tinged with an element of sadness. 

“You like it even though being an emissary to the Seasonal Courts clearly makes you want to pull your hair from your head?” Azriel whispered to you. 

“You and your antics are the only thing that causes me to do that, I seriously think you need a refresher training on diplomacy” you bit back to his sharp whisper. You had shared the job with Lucien but soon found yourself taking on the brunt of the work as Lucien was lost in Elain.

“You need to stop being so uptight seriously, I think you need to be fucked or something, anything to get you to relax” Your head whipped towards him, the group laughing at Rhysand's story, choosing to ignore the two of you, assuming it was an argument. You huffed out in disgust at Azriel, he watched your chest release the full capacity of air from your lungs before taking another deep breath. You shuffled slightly in the sheet, wrapping the sleeping bag tighter around yourself and facing back towards the fire. It was then Azriel realised he was fully staring at your chest. 

“I didn't…I didn't mean that I want to be the one to….fuck you…I meant …” 

“Just stop talking Az” you scoffed, choosing to listen to Rhysand instead as Azriel mentally cursed himself for losing his edge over you. The fire sank until it went out, the laughter from the group lighting the forest. 

“Okay, it's like 2am, time for bed kids especially if we’re going for the hike tomorrow” Rhysand stood, pulling a sleepy Feyre to her feet. The group said their good nights as you climbed into your canvas home. You stretched along the fabric floor and sank into sleep easily, tired from the day as you balled up in your opened-out sleeping bag. 

-

“Hey! YNN! Wake up!” 

“I swear to the Gods you better be a super polite Naga about to rip my head off otherwise you’ll wish you were” you breathed out without opening your eyes, the sound of your tent zip worse than a blaring alarm to your sleepy state. 

“It’s Az, I need to sleep in here, push over” he collapsed next to you without invitation, your hand sailing outwards to clock him flat into the chest with a thud. 

“Az, what the fuck? It's like 3am, get the fuck out we’re not braiding one another's hair!” you whisper-shouted at him while you sat up. 

“Lucien is snoring like he’s trying to deafen me and I don’t fancy interrupting Mor and Amrens beauty sleep and as for the mates, I don’t need to explain why I don’t want to go in there” you sighed at him as he gave you a look that said he wasn’t going anywhere. You sank back into the canvas, Azriel pulling the sleeping bag from you. 

“Az” you bit out. 

“I’m not going to freeze to death because you’re a blanket thief”

“You’re going to find yourself on the other side of the zip if you don’t go to sleep” you said, rolling into the slack of the sleeping bag, pulling it fully from Azriel. He almost grunted at the action, catching the end and whipping it from under you, sending you rolling into the wall of the tent. 

“Az!” you barked and he raised his hands up in surrender. You sank beneath the cover again, moving closer to Azriel to spread the sleeping bag more evenly. Azriels eyes fixed on the mesh vents on the tent roof, the sound of the night filling the tent.

“Do you ever think you’ll go back to the Summer Court?” Azriel broke the silence that filled the tent, you sighed before replying. 

“If you keep being a prick then maybe” you deflected the question successfully.

“I’m a prick because I care” You laughed at his joking tone, rolling to your side to face him more, hands tucked in under your cheek. 

“As much stress as you and Cass and your antics cause me, which is a lot might I add, I would find it very hard to leave you freaks” you half laughed, eyes still heavy. 

“We’d miss you” he admitted

“I mean who would keep your secrets from one another if not me” you teased. 

“What secrets?” you tapped the side of your nose lazily and Azriel nudged you slightly in annoyance at your grin. 

“Fine fine emmm.... Cass is the one who told all those females in the Rita's where to find you when you were home” you yawned into a light laugh. Azriel felt annoyance grow in him at this revelation, that had caused him months of being harassed by all sorts from every walk of life. 

“I swear I’m going t-”

“Just leave it Shadowsinger” you gave a small laugh, grabbing his hand as he went to leave the nest you’d both made, pulling him back down and forgetting to let go, you lost your fight to sleep then, entirely drifting back off. Azriel glanced at you sleeping peacefully next to him and found himself surprised at enjoying holding your hand beneath the sleeping bag. 

Azriel stayed awake for half an hour, staring up at the canvas above him, torn between the growing pain in his shoulder and not wanting to let go of your hand. The nerves felt like they were screaming as the muscles went dead in his arm, an idea coming to him. He quickly rolled towards you while releasing your hand and grabbing the other but he greatly misjudged the distance, sending his head straight into yours. You almost immediately dropped his hand to place it on the bump growing on your head, Azriel feeling regret for waking you but more so for letting you go. 

“You're such a freak Shadowsinger” You laughed half asleep before rolling in closer to him and draping your arm across his waist, pulling yourself closer to him softly, resting your head between the pillow and his chest. Azriel felt such an unfamiliar level of comfort at the movement but also a new level of confusion. 

You moved from next to him then, leaning on your elbow to prop yourself up and look at him as puzzled as he looked at you. 

“Sorry I-I don't know why I did that”

“Emm it’s okay YN…it was actually kinda comfortable…I’m ok-ay if you’re okay with it” he spoke the words with caution and you found a sigh of relief leave you that you didn’t know you had. You rolled away from Azriel to face the tent wall, his face slightly greying with nerves, had he been vulnerable to the wrong person? He braced for your rejection only for it not come, instead you shuffled slightly down and laid your back flat into his chest. Azriel cautiously moved his arm across your waist, only to have you catch hold of his hand and move it across faster, forgetting to release his hand again. 

Azriel nestled his chin on top of your head, pulling you in as close as he could as you both tangled your legs together. He felt so entirely comforted by how close you were to him…too close he thought suddenly. He shuffled in the bed a little to try to hide the part of him betraying any sense of secrecy he had about his changing feelings towards you. You just moved back to where you were, leaving him no place to hide. Azriel felt your whole body smirk against him as you traced little circles along the back of his hand with your thumb, he hated how you were winning. 

“You’re not hard for me to read Azriel” he definitely heard the smirk from you. He refused to let you win, he tried to push the embarrassment from his voice before speaking again-

“Well I hardly think that's surprising, I already told you what I think needs to happen for you to relax” he barely whispered, your body's turn to stiffen in the bed alongside him, he smiled with the point he won. 

Azriel slowly moved to hover his mouth above your neck, both so still in the movement that he could almost see the hairs on your neck stand on their end. He gave little thought to his next movement, now acting on his instinct as he met your neck almost painfully softly. He kissed you there until you found your neck flexing to allow him more access. A betraying soft moan of approval escaped you as Azriel smiled into the nips he gave you, gaining a further point advantage. 

You couldn’t let him hold the win for long as you began to push yourself into his growing length, a low growl escaping him before he reburied himself in your neck, more feverishly this time. Your hand wrapped tighter around his as you began to grind into him, encouraging him further. You rolled onto your back, Azriel now almost hovering over you and moved without thinking. He leaned down and met his lips with yours. Electric, you were electrifying one another. This night was going further than you both thought it would. Sex was one thing but kissing someone like that and feeling such overwhelming desire as a result was another thing. You both separated almost surprised at the waves of confusion mixed with yearning. 

“I-I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have…” Azriel didn’t know what he was saying, almost begging you with his eyes to say anything. 

“I-” you were cut off by the sound of Lucien's loud sneeze from across the fire pit causing you both to almost jump. It hit you both then what you were about to do, with all your friends mere metres away. 

“Night Azriel” was all you found yourself saying before rolling back to face the wall of the tent, not taking his arm with you. Azriel cursed in his head before lying back down on the canvas. He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, the thought of what could have been controlling his thoughts. He didn’t think you were asleep either but didn’t challenge you on it, what had you both done?

-

You rolled over to find the space next to you empty as the sun leaked in the thin canvas the next morning. You ran your hands down your face, cursing your actions from the night previous. You got dressed haphazardly, removing a mirror from your pack to braid your hair back, your eyes falling on deep maroon markings on the side of your neck. You traced them gently with your fingertips, a small smile escaping you at the memory. 

“YN! Get up! We’re leaving in 10” Cassian's voice accompanied him banging on the top of your tent, chasing your smile away. You ran your hands through the loose braid, separating it out again to cover the evidence of your lapse in judgment. 

You hauled yourself out through the soft door once you were dressed to find your friends all laughing at one of Cassian's stories, ready and waiting for you to set off. Your eyes landed on Azriel as he tilted his head back laughing before his eyes met yours, he almost instantly tore them from you and looked back to Cassian. 

-

The group set off bounding along the mountain in total ease, Nesta winding Rhysand up ahead of you and Cassian. 

“So YN…you gonna tell me why Az won’t look at you?” 

“How am I supposed to read that pain in the ass’s mind?” you replied almost too quickly to him as he raised an eyebrow, catching your hand and helping you up a steeper part of the path. You looked at the back of Azriel’s head ahead of you as he lead the group along the path to the waterfall. 

“Hmm likely story YN and tell me why I could have sworn I heard Az leave your tent this morning?” he couldn’t bury the teasing tone as you sighed. 

“Lucien was snoring so Azriel just stayed in my tent, no big deal” You could see the thoughts race through Cassian’s grinning face, you tilted your head slightly forward, ensuring the truth was still covered by your hair. 

“Interesting, I don’t know Lucien to be a snorer” He gave a small laugh as you raised your eyebrow, only getting a playful shake of the Illyrian's head in return. A sudden slap of mud met the side of Cassian's face. 

“That’s for Rita’s!“ Azriel shouted back the path, his hand having just released the ball of mud. 

“You told him YN!” Cassian’s head snapped to you as you howled with laughter.

“Must have slipped out?” you tried your best to lie, only to have the broad male throw you over his shoulder as you screamed in hysterics. He ran with you, the group all roaring laughing as they followed. You suddenly couldn’t feel Cassian under you as he flung you from his arms, landing with a splash into the large lake. 

“Cassian! I’m going to kill you!” you shrieked, the cold water bursting through you sending power coursing. You sent a tendril of water, playfully pulling Cassian from where he stood straight into the water alongside you, the group following suit in fits of laughter, leaving Azriel to watch from the rocks. Azriels eye caught the slight glimpse of his handiwork beneath your soaked hair, a pang of pride beating through him then replaced by panic. A shadow met the side of your face, draping your hair back to cover the markings. You looked towards Azriel and found yourself laughing at the action, he returned a smile. 

-

After a day of hiking and swimming and being a bunch of fools, you all came back to the campsite ready to feast on whatever you could scrounge up. 

“Okay everyone, it’s time to announce the reason behind this little trip” Rhysand announced to his family gathered around the roaring fire. 

“Well, as you know, YN has been with us now for some months now-”

“Unfortunately” you hit Azriel into the chest at his sarcasm.

“Anyways-” Rhysand threw a warning glance “-YN has helped to negotiate many our trade agreements and cleaned up many of our messes-” Cassian raised a glass to you at Rhysands words, the group laughing “-But anyway, I’m sorry to announce that I have failed as your High Lord in convincing her to stay with us” the group turned to face you in almost shock. 

“I know everyone I said-”

“-You said you wouldn’t leave” Azriel cut across you, semblances of pain dripping from his quick words. 

“I know Az but-”

“-No, you said you wouldn’t leave” his words turned to tones of anger, the group looking amongst themselves, feeling as though they were intruding. 

“Yes but Az, I’m needed at home, they’re still recovering from Amarantha and Tarquin needs m-”

“-But I- I mean we need you!” He stood from the log to look down at you, your sad eyes meeting his. Suddenly aware of the scene he was making he dissolved into shadow as you tried to call after him. 

“I better go-”

“No Cass, I'll go” you winnowed out of the clearing. 

-

Azriel crashed into his room in the House of Wind. Mixtures of emotions spinning in his head like the shadows around his heels. 

“Az” he whipped around to see you stood with your hands up chest level in surrender. 

“Here to pack your bags?” he chewed out. 

“Oh fuck off Azriel, don’t actually pretend you want me to stay” you matched his tone. 

“And why do you say that?” he snapped back.

“Because you’re the reason I’m leaving!” he took a small step back in shock at your sharp admission. He sat down on the edge of his bed, brow furrowing in thought. 

“What have I done to you?”

“What haven’t you done!? You go out of your way to make my job difficult, every motion I put forward you try to shoot down, you’re constantly following me watching every move I make waiting me to fuck up! Now you have what you want, I’m leaving!” you paced up and down in front of him, releasing the tension you held in your shoulders. 

“I don’t want you to leave” he sounded almost offended that you thought so. 

“What?”

“You really think I want you to leave…especially after last night” he stood from the bed, stepping in front of you to stop your pacing.

“I thought that especially after last night you’d want me to leave” You half laughed.

“At least I guess I’ve given you something to remind you of me” he gave the smallest smile, his hand sweeping your hair off your shoulder to look at his busy work as you felt yourself blush.

“Don’t leave YN, who would I play with?”

“Cass maybe” you grinned, something seemingly darkening in his eyes. 

“I don’t want to fuck him” he breathed out.

“That’s not what Rhys told me” You laughed again before noticing his serious eyes. 

“Please don’t leave me YN”

“And what will I tell Tarquin?” you chuckled, unsure what to do with Azriels edgy tone. His hand found yours, hazel eyes fixated on you.

"Tell him you're preoccupied" "With what exactly" he moved closer to you with your words ever so slightly rattling out of you.

“Az if we kiss…this might become more than what either of us wants”

"What if its what we both want?" he was mere millimetres from you now, unable to fight against this magnetic force pulling you forward. Something bubbling between you both, the electricity coursing through the space between you both again as you kissed so sweetly. Your eyes snapped open to find his eyes meeting yours, gently pulling back from one another. Mate. Mate. Mate.

“YN- you’re my-”

“-Mate” you breathed while looking at him with such unadulterated love. Azriel burst into laughter with you following suit.

“Now you really can’t leave me”

“How convenient” you smiled, running your hands through your hair, Azriel tracing the bitemark's outline with his heated gaze.

“Care for some stress relief YN?” Azriels hands went straight for your hips, the feeling of the small calluses meeting your soft sides sent pulses down you both. He met your neck, the same place he had last night, cupping his hands beneath your lower legs and lifting you from the ground, your legs wrapped around his waist

“Why can't I keep away from you?” You breathed, the hairs on Azriel’s neck standing on their end.

“Why does that make me so happy?” Was all he could manage before reconnecting to your neck. Azriel carried you to the bed before throwing you down and closely following in pursuit. You knotted your fingers through his hair and forced down the moan trying to escape at the pleasure of having him nip you. You tugged his hair until he pulled from you to face you.

“I want all of you”

Azriel cautiously lowered his mouth to yours until they met again. Much like the first time electricity coursed through both of you but unlike the last time, neither pulled away, only growing hungrier.

You could feel him hardening against your thigh, no longer able to fight the little victory you were going to give him, you moaned gently. He smirked hard into the kiss before it became more feverish. Your hand ran across him beneath the fabric of his trousers, his turn to groan.

“You're wearing too many clothes” he rasped as you smirked and pulled your shirt from over your head, he gently caught your jaw as he kissed along it. 

“I want revenge for these” you smirked, wrapping your leg into his side to flip him so you straddled him on top. Your teeth grazed his neck with heat as he sat up in the bed with you on his lap. He pulled his shirt from over his head, his hands replacing on your hips to support you, his groaning encouraging you on.

“Enough teasing YN, I need you” he said darkly, flipping you onto your back and yanking your trousers free from your legs to discard them. Azriel kissed you sweetly before moving down the shape of your body, peppering kisses along the trail to your entrance. You felt your legs begin to tremble under his touch, begging for more as his fingers began to play with your clit, your hands tangling in his hair with a moan. 

“You’re so ready for me YN, its intoxicating” he began to kiss around you and slowly his fingers began to move in and out while he sucked your clit. You felt the tension build in your abdomen, the greatest realess you ever had just a few movements away until he stopped entirely. You looked down between your legs to meet his eyes as he moved to hover above you again, discarding his own trousers in the process. 

“You’re so beautiful YNN” Your hand met the side of his face softly before pulling him back down into a searing kiss. Your fingers began to drag up and down his bear back before tracing the spines of his wings as they began to splay in their relaxed state. 

“Is that okay Azriel?” you whispered watching his eyes close with the building pleasure. 

“Nothing has ever been more okay” he leaned his head towards your hand, taking the waves of pleasure in his stride before lowering back down to meet you sweetly. 

Azriel slowly then began to enter you, you both almost meeting your release at the feeling. He slowly began to drag in and out as the sensation grew with its addictive nature, he increased his speed, spurred on by your hitching breath. The pressure growing and growing and growing, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your back arched until the band snapped sending you into overdrive as every nerve in your body stood to attention and then exploded. You practically screamed his name sending him over the edge, returning the sentiment by moaning your name, collapsing next to you while riding out his high. 

“I had no idea how much I needed to hear you say my name like that YN” Azriel finally found some composure to rasp out, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you in. You tried not to cringe in embarrassment as you buried a laugh into his chest. 

“Don’t go shy on me now” he laughed, kissing the top of your head. You rolled onto your elbows to look into his eyes as they lit up for you. You hauled the duvet up around you, leaving a small corner for Azriel to tug at.

“Why must I be mated to a blanket thief?”

“Why must I be mated to a pain in the ass?”

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Whatcha think friends!

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[iris-qt]

𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞

⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.

🪻 ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🪻 ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

🪻 ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ…ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ!

🪻 ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ ɪꜱ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴛᴏɪᴄ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀʟᴍ…ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴇꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴏɴ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ꜱʜʏ, ʙᴜᴍʙʟɪɴɢ ʙᴏʏ

⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.˚⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆.

Perhaps it was your awkward glances. Or maybe the way you’d do something silly like accidentally write the wrong year for today’s date then nervously survey the area as if anyone would notice. If anyone were to notice they’d have to be looking very closely…practically observing you. And that is precisely the gift Theodore Nott had been given as he was sat one bench above you in the DADA classroom his gaze directly hitting your paper and the side of your stressed and contorted face.

Yes this test was difficult but Theodore has studied incessantly for it. You see, Theodore Nott never studies but he had a plan. A plan that he chickened out on last minute.

The night prior he had been sitting in the library waiting for your arrival. He knows you arrive around 8pm right after dinner and quidditch practice. You were about to sit when Theodore Nott appeared in your peripheral with a slight deranged half smile on his face. His face rarely showed emotion but there was something manic in it at the moment per your mental Theo facial expression log.

“Hi Theo, you okay?” you lightly laugh as you see him stumble a bit.

Theodore mentally thanked himself for evading his friends’ questions as to where he heads off to around this time because if they saw the usually stoic Nott stumbling over his feet in front of this girl he’d never hear the end of it.

“Yes…yes I was just wondering if you needed some studying company?”

You smile warmly at him his presence itself warming you up from the cold you had just endure in the November night air while at Quidditch practice.

“I’ll definitely need someone to wake me up in case I fall asleep reading about the theoretical applications of non-verbal spell casting…you’re hired Nott.”

Theo smirks as he sits himself down a bit too close to you. He realizes in a panic and jerks back almost tilting over in his haste if you hadn’t steadied his chair.

“Theo, maybe you should cut down on those cigarettes,” you smirk as a light rouge paints his carved face.

Theo feels like digging a hole in the library ground and burying himself in it away from your hypnotic gaze but, at the same time, he cannot help but bask in it.

Initially his plan was working as he hoped it would. You admitted the things you didn’t know and Theo helped you brush up on it and quizzed you on certain terms. You both had even found some time to laugh and joke about things such as the drawer filled collection of ballerina hair gel Theo had found Draco hoarding in the “forbidden drawer”. They were both becoming comfortable and Theo lost his edge as he melted into your presence. Things went downhill after that as perhaps Theo became a bit too comfortable. As he was watching you read a portion of your textbook…your lips moving in slow motion and your eyebrows scrunched in the most adorable manner…he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath out:

“You’re so cute..”

You perked up as you couldn’t believe your ears. While your brain was immersed in the world of DADA your senses were in high alert within the presence of the boy you adored in silence.

“What did you just say?”

Theo at this point went into full lockdown mode as he slightly jumped exclaiming “I said you look like a boot!!” he blurted out as if that would salvage him in her eyes…her gorgeous, bright eyes.

You looked quite puzzled as you didn’t know exactly what that meant. Perhaps it was the way you had styled your hair? Or done your makeup? His sentence made zero sense and you weren’t quite sure how to feel.

Theo, however, had lost his marbles while he seemed expressionless on the outside his brain was short-circuiting.

“Uh…you know what I think I need to leave to um…use the loo? Yes I wonder what they put in that pumpkin juice because let me just tell you, y/n, it was NOT good…you think the elves are after me?,” he laughs nervously as he quickly slams his book shut attracting the attention of every student in the library as the sound echoes off the shelves.

“Merlin, where’d I get that strength!” he strains out with that same deranged, manic look returning to his face except this time in more volume. Before you could utter a word Theo scrambles out of the library. It takes you a few seconds to piece together what just happened but you eventually stand up leaving your things behind to find Theo. But once you reach the entrance of the library he was long gone…

You had spent a while pondering that occurrence and what he said to you. That night you had laid awake in bed. You were sure he had said you were cute, right? I mean obviously. Theodore had always been jumpy since you had officially met him that one day in 5th year in Potions as you two were partners. He was quiet yet endearing and you had fallen instantly. The only problem was your adoration for him had always felt like a dead end. As shy as he seemed Theo got around and to be fair you’d never felt like you had a chance…were you blind? No of course not. You were realistic…right?

And so we return to the day of the test and Theo who had finished 20 minutes early due to his vast knowledge he has filled his privileged brain with simply for, well, you. You were his everything. You had stolen the very air he breathed from the moment you slid in next to him in Potions. You held his breath captive and he simply couldn’t act human next to you. You loosened him up more than any of his expensive Italian cigarettes could. He was addicted.

After class Theo had begun his walk to his next class when he heard his favorite voice calling his name. God if he could only record your voice in one of those muggle devices. Mental note to buy one of those next time he secretly visited muggle London. He slowly spun around gripping his messenger bag for dear life for he could feel himself becoming light headed already.

“I think I had an aneurysm taking that test,” you laugh indulging in Theo’s dazed expression as it fuels your confidence. “I just wanted to tell you that you look cute..” you purposefully mumble the last part so that Theo could barely catch your words.

Theo’s heart soared and dropped and did somersaults all at the same time when he heard your words. “Wh-what?”

“I said you look like a grapefruit!” you yell falling into a fit of laughter as Theo gazes at you looking dumbstruck.

“I think this is the part I run away,” you quip raising your eyebrow at him playfully

“No I think this is the part I shake myself out of it and just ask the girl of my dreams on a date,” Theo breathes out attempting to recover from his actions the day before

You put your hand above your eyes as if shielding them from the sun as you stare into the distance. “Where is she? Can I meet her?” you bite back your laughter, gazing up at Theo’s watercolor eyes alive with the most tender of emotions.

Theo laughs shaking his head hesitantly removing your hand from your face and clasping it in his as if it were a rare jewel he has been searching for for decades and had finally found it. As if you were his life’s work finally accomplished.

“Look no further, y/n, she’s standing right here.”

#theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #slytherin boys #theodore nott one shot #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fluff

[bunny584]

JUJUTSU KAISEN'S ANATOMY

A/N: God I LOVE when you guys let me break the 4th wall. Most of you guys already know my specialty but in my junior years of residency I had to rotate on different services as part of training. Everyone loves a well rounded doctor. 

Anon, you’re insane for this ask. I could never write a full medical fan fic because it’s TOO close to home and I already spend 100 hours/week at the hospital I need to escape it somehow. 

Nevertheless, I’m SO happy to indulge you, baby. Let’s get into it. I’ll break this up into two parts. The Attendings, then The Residents. 

ATTENDINGS ON CALL

Dr. Satoru Gojo:

Specialty: TRAUMA SURGERY

Most people incorrectly assume trauma surgeons to be stern and intense. I would argue that they are the opposite. They are so deeply unserious. My co-residents and I legit played pranks on our attendings 24/7 during the rotation - right up this blue-eyed psychopath’s alley. When push comes to shove, they get the job fucking done. The most calm under pressure. A patient comes in coding and requires a thoracotomy and its your first one. You have less than 5 minutes to access the heart and massage — Satoru would stand behind you. Steadying your hand. 

“Good. More pressure on the incision. Spread the fascia. Good. Don’t puncture the lung, they need that right?” 

And the second you get to the heart he gives you a tiny nod of approval. Takes over at the head of the bed. You’re in for a LONG OR night with Dr. G, hope you had dinner.

Dr. Suguru Geto: 

Specialty: PLASTIC & RECONSTRUCTIVE SURGERY

Alright chat, hear me out. I know what you are about to say. I am biased because it’s my specialty and the boy is fucking pretty. But contrary to popular belief aesthetic surgery is 10% of our field. We do burn, hand, bony and soft tissue craniofacial (cleft lip, palate, etc), cancer reconstruction, trauma reconstruction, etc. Suguru is meticulous. He can sew up a severed 4 mm peripheral nerve with his eyes closed. He demands perfection in EVERY case. In the OR he watches your hands like a hawk. 

“Don’t skive the blade or the dermis will be uneven.” “Approximate, don’t strangulate.” “Cut that stitch out and do it perfectly the next time.” 

And when it’s good. I mean fucking flawless. He looks at you over his mask with those violet eyes. ONLY smiling with his eyes. 

“Good job. Make it perfect next time.” — This is the highest form of praise you will ever receive from a plastic surgeon. We are chronically unimpressed. Take it and RUN. 

Dr. Kento Nanami:

Specialty: TRANSPLANT SURGERY 

Phew this one is going to make me emotional. Nanami has a very special and private ceremony he does to honor those that have given life to others with their bodies. He sits on the top of a hill by the airport. For each plane that takes off, he names a donor patient, thanks them, and says his goodbye. Your first kidney transplant (personal experience) you cry like a little baby when they pink up and the patient starts making urine at the end of the case. 

Nanami tilts his head and chuckles. “Congratulations, doctor. You just made your patient urinate. How does it feel?” 

For a patient who has been on Hemodialysis for a decade. Chained to machines 3x/week. Can’t remember the last time they’ve independently gone to the bathroom? It feels fucking amazing. You’d cry too. 

Dr. Ryomen Sukuna

Specialty: ORTHOPEDIC SURGERY 

Who here is shocked? Raise your hand? Because I don’t know WHAT contract the orthopods have with the Gods but every single one of them is 6’5, works out 3 times/day and drinks muscle milk in between cases. The thing about Ryo is that he doesn’t give a single FUCK if the patient is 99 years old on blood thinners, 10L of O2 at home because of COPD — he WILL take them to the OR and he WILL smash that hip to smithereens because a hip replacement is a hip replacement okay?

I kid you not, my attending and I came into the OR to finish reconstruction on an ortho case. I’m 5’3, my attending is 5’0. The orthopods were 6’5 and 6’6 the patient table was basically touching the ceiling. When we scrubbed in they had the audacity to say:

“Can we lower the table to plastics height?”

RUDE. 

Dr. Shoko Ieiri 

Specialty: NEUROSURGERY

This one is obvious. Neurosurgeons are brilliant. Naturally some of the most gifted humans I have ever met. Special grade. And given the unfortunate outcomes a lot of their patients face, they all have a darkness about them. Both charming and intimidating. Twisted humor to cope with devastating loss after loss. I don’t have to explain much here. After a 15 hour Chordoma case, Shoko walks outside the HOSPITAL to smoke a CIGAR.

Literally everyone is like???? Aren’t you a literal doctor??? Our moody brunette just takes a long drag and says:

“Do me a favor. If I ever need a ventilator to breathe for more than 48 hours, pull the plug and smother me with a pillow.” 

(Shoko I’m here anytime if you want someone to smother—what?! Who?)

Dr. Utahime Iori

Specialty: ANESTHESIA 

The Gas Gang. EVERYONE loves the anesthesiologists. Fiercely intelligent. Insane handle on physiology. The sleeper pick. They are the smartest person in the room. Surgeons are just fancy plumbers. Anesthesiologists actually keep the patient alive. And the thing about our Gas Gods, is that they WILL take a coffee break, ok? All that standing for 10 hours shit is NOT for them. 

Part II: Meet your first year residency class. Grunts. Bottom of the surgical food chain. Hope they slept after med school graduation because the first shift lasts 36 hours. And you work every second night until you drop.

Eat when you can. Sleep when you can. And DON'T fuck with the pancreas (and for the love of GOD don't fuck the attendings)

#bunnyblabs #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk headcannons #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #satoru gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #ryomen sukuna #utahime iori #jjk sukuna #kento nanami #kento nanami x reader #shoko ieri x reader #shoko x you #ryomen x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk nanami #gojo jjk #jjk satoru #jjk smut #geto smut #gojo smut #jjk fluff #nanami fluff

[thirtyratsinasuit]

❤︎ 𝑪𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅'𝒔 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒏 ❤︎

𝙨𝙮𝙥𝙣𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙨; 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘦.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘮𝘢𝘫𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝙖/𝙣; 𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘤, 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 <3 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭

𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩; @pleasantwitchgarden @lyd14k4y @rubyirene @rotten-royale @isnt-itstrange @2hiigh2cry @batghouleh @spookyparadisesheep @dollissante

“reid, do me a favor and bring this to the lab?” garcia spoke sweetly, handing an orange envelope to the resident genius. of course, he wondered as to why of all people she’d ask him. the cranky old pathologist was so mean, he always argued on everything.

before spencer knew it, he was knocking on the door to the lab. a faint voice could be heard behind the door, “come in!”

that’s not the old coot.

“hello?”

that’s definitely not the old coot!

the door opened, and your frustrated face was seen. “i said come in!” you huffed.

“i- uh-“

“what? staring problem?” you smirked.

spencer blushed, handing you the folder, to which you promptly took. you grabbed a marker from your coat pocket, and wrote your number on a blank sticky note attached to said folder, handing it to spencer. “call me.”

“is this appropriate?”

“it’s about the case, smart-ass. but, if you want to make it a daaaate…”

“i’ll call after work.”

garcia’s plan worked perfectly.

#𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐡'𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ♡︎ #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds

[livelaughlovesubs]

Just some brainrot scraps for Fyodor ღゝ◡╹ )ノ♡ (idk if this is cnc or not so I’ll just say it here just in case)

Imagine corrupting angelic Fyodor. Even though he’s an angel, your guardian angel at that, he’s quite stuck up since he thinks that he’s better than a human sinner like you . From the parties to the one night stands you have he swears that you’re driving him insane! One day he had enough of your antics and decided to disguise himself as a normal human and attended another one of the parties you were invited (this was the eighth party this month alone for fuck’s sake!) He swears that he’ll make you see the light of god and make you change your ways tonight, that’s until he finds himself in bed with you as you plow yourself deep into his ass. He tries whining out how this was dirty and how you shouldn’t have sex before marriage but the feeling of being manhandled in such a way made all his words that came out of his mouth unintelligible. His mind attempts to fight back and keeping himself pure but the pleasure was too overwhelming. By the time he had his third orgasm of the night, he mind was so clouded by lust that he completely forgot about his duties as an angel, his wings turning a dark grey as he falls further from god. In the morning you find yourself trapped in bed with a sweaty, clingy and needy fallen angel, his wings completely tainted black as he wraps himself tighter around you. Maybe it was worth it for some of your dick <33

(I feel a bit rusty when it come to writing so hopefully it isn’t too bad kuhuhuhu (┳Д┳))

- 🍮

Nuuu it’s alright haha. I just love your ideas 🍮 anon, and I love angels. Honestly, when you first proposed incubus fyodor I thought: why not angel? Cuz it kinda fit better BUT FYODOR AS A TOTALL SLUT IS ALSO GREAT KEKEKE

Dom!reader x sub!Angel!Fyodor

Warning: heavy on hierophilia, pegging (can be read as a dick), virgin fyodor, hair pulling, overstimulation, sub-space, dubcon, corruption kink, manhandling, no prep, save word (not used), dacryphilia, objectification, degrading, forced orgasm

Edit: I got carried away

He really wanted to do his job well, seriously. Being a good angel who carry out his lords orders with diligence, never lazing around and protecting you with all his might. But it’s so difficult to like you, to like someone who’s depraved of god’s blessing like this. It must be god’s trial for him, otherwise he can’t explain why someone as great as him got paired up with you. You are basically the incarnation of sin itself! It’s one thing not to stay pure, but to indulge in pleasure every week, multiple times? That’s beyond acceptable!

How despicable your actions were, they were totally against the will of the lord. Were it even possible for someone to be lead astray from the right path so much? Partying so much, drinking, playing and doing satans work… There is no way the pleasure of the flesh would be worth that. Fyodor really couldn’t understand your ways, not like he ever tried to anyway. Instead, since this was a trial given by him by god himself, he planned on giving it his all. To get you to change your vulgar behaviour, he’ll need you to find it repulsive too. Maybe if he criticised and embarrassed you during one of your outings, you’ll be too scared to attend another one? That would be worth a try, no?

With that being said, the angel hid his beautiful pure white wings and descended upon the human realm just for you, to help you see the light and powers of god. Of course he wore clothes that didn’t show any skin, as well as hanging a cross around his neck to display his faith. Today you were going to a bar once again, who would have guessed. Fyodor was at the bar counter, looking for you all over this dirty establishment. At the same time he observed the other humans who were present. Dancing, alcohol, drugs and lust. This place was beyond saving, the people as well. He hoped he wouldn’t need to enter this place ever again.

Finally, after a long wait, he found you. Dressed in revealing clothes, smirking from ear to ear. Even if you were under the spell of the devil, fyodor had to admit that you were pretty good looking. He immediately made his way over to you, smiling, to appear friendly. It surprised you a little, that someone was heading your way without beating around the bush. The angel who was now in front of you said, “I have something to say to you, can we go to somewhere more private?” Stunned but intrigued, you agreed to his request. He looked cute after all, you wondered what he was hiding under these layers of clothing, perhaps some dirty secrets?

He really didn’t plan for this to happen, seriously. All he wanted was to talk to you, and maybe pressure or manipulate you a little. Though you seemed amused by the whole situation? Why even? Then you proposed for the two of you to go to a hotel to have an even more private talk. At first he was sceptical, but then he thought it might be your way to initiate your wish for a better environment, because you noticed how the club is a filthy place. Of course the boy obliged, yet as soon as he stepped into the room, you pushed him and pinned him to the bed.

“Wa-what..!?” He sounded shocked, absolutely confused even. His face was pressed into the pillow by your hand which was on the back of his head, your other hand appears to be on his waist. “Oh cutie, no need to play naive now, there is a reason why you came up to me no?” You’d tease while getting rid of his pants, admiring his awfully slim waist. My my, he was hiding some treasures underneath his sweater after all.

Yes, he came up to you for a reason, but not for this reason!

“No! This is dirty- you.. we shouldn’t… just let me go- ahhhH?!” Fyodor tried to reason with you, until he noticed how his shirt got yanked off. In less than a minute he was butt naked already, how shameful this was. His body wasn’t something for your eyes to see, heck, no one but god should be allowed to see him like this! Unless you two were married, that is, but it was clearly not the case here. Tears were collecting in the corners of his eyes as he gazed back at you, seeing you all prepared and ready for the deed. Your dick was already covered in lube as you lined it up against his sweet little hole, rubbing it between his asscheeks to let him have a pretty good guess on how big the thing was. Oh and how he shivered, shaking as fear and.. something hot filled his senses.

Before he got to say no a second time, you already shoved the tip in, causing him to throw his head back and grip the sheets like his life depended on it. “AaAAAhHHh..!! It hu-hurts..!” He could have spread his wings and shoved you away, though due to some unknown reasons, he didn’t. Staying put like a good and obedient birdy, hiding his face in the pillow as you slowly bottomed out inside him. “MhmMN..! Ooh! To-too deep..<3!” Fyodor would whine and complain about your size, this was his first time after all! You didn’t even prepare him… did you think he was some common, cheap and loose prostitute?

“Fuck, you are damn tight huh, you doing alright over there?” You leaned down and yanked on his hair, causing him to arch his back further. Then you groaned that into his ear, watching him quiver in response. “Uhm-aaHHhnnGhm! I- mHMm!” Poor boy can’t even form a single cohered sentence at this point, too preoccupied with the feeling of your cock inside him. How it stretched him apart, as well as how his walls pulsed and clenched around it. Oh lord.. this was too much for his innocent body to comprehend. “Haaah.. say red if it gets too much, alright? Otherwise I’ll start moving.” You warned him after he didn’t give you an answer. “Ah-no- wait, unngHh!” The moment you started moving, he started sobbing uncontrollably and praying to god. Was this really going to be how his chastity gets ruined? How he loses his innocence? By someone like you?

Dear lord, our father, please pardon him, for his pathetic, unholy and defiled form. He must look so perverted right now. Dick leaking precum everywhere as his bottom got pounded by you mercilessly. You whispered some impure words into his mouth as you did that, asking him if he’s enjoying it or demanding him to degrade himself. Each time he’d refuse and call this sinful, ungodly, and wrong as well as crying even louder. At one point the poor baby was holding onto the cross hanging around his neck with both hands, trying his best to clench onto the last bits of dignity he had as an angel.

It got increasingly harder with every trust, it made him see stars and caused his entire body to twitch like a sinner. Slowly, he could feel himself crumbling and succumb to the devil’s temptation. More pleads escaped his throat, though not even he knew for whom it was or what purpose it served. All he could think about was how sorry he was for failing his duties, and for loving every second he spend with you <3

After his third forced orgasm, the angel- if you can still call him that considering how fallen he was, got so overstimulated and fucked out of it that he completely lost himself to the bliss and ecstasy. Lust clouded and pestered his mind like some spell, it wouldn’t leave him alone. You just felt so damn good, and he adored how your length spread his insides every time you shoved it deep inside him. His own shameful body fluids were spread around the bed, dripping down his thighs, causing the entire scene to look even more erotic. Not to mention the sounds he made….

Since you’ve been fucking him for so long, even you were out of breath. But him? Oh no, he couldn’t stop. He was addicted, hypnotised, whatever you’d like to call it. This is his first time experiencing such sensations in eons, he wasn’t going to be satisfied with only three orgasms. His very first three ejaculations to be exact. You want to stop? Heck no, he’s was going to keep doing this until he exhales his last breath! He was ready to become a whore for you, your very own slut that got banned from heaven.

So the black haired boy was riding you now, bouncing up and down your dick desperately as the cross flew around with how fast he was going at it. He was drooling and melting the entire time, not a single logical thing coming out of his mouth as he blabbered something about it being too good. About how he’s sorry for getting corrupted. The little angel didn’t know, but the more he indulged in these impure pleasures, the more he fell from grace, and the more his wings darkened. The only hint he got from his deity was when the chain of his necklace broke, and his cross hit the floor. It broke into six pieces, yet he didn’t even notice. Oh what a degenerate being he has become. He was sullying gods name with his deeds..!!

At the end of it, not only him but you too were totally exhausted, so much that you both fell asleep after washing up. On the next day, you noticed something soft yet foreign hit your face. It couldn’t have been his hair, since it felt differently. When you opened your eyes, you almost jumped due to the surprise. These were wings, and gigantic ones at that. Huge, raven black wings covered the entire mattress, and it came from the back of your planned one night stand partner. Was this some cosplay? He didn’t wear this yesterday, or did he but you were drunk and didn’t notice? Nonetheless, he didn’t let you leave the bed, instead he held onto you as if his life depended on it.

When he woke up, he had heart-shaped pupils as he stared at you with such a strong want and need in his eyes. Cheeks already flushed pink even though you haven’t done anything yet. He wanted to keep going were you two left off yesterday, despite his body protesting because he was so sore. His insides have been rearranged by you after all, and if he weren’t a holy being before, he was sure his pelvis would be broken by now. You took a while to believe him, as well as understand the situation. Afterwards, you took him in, since it was your responsibility. Besides, now your guardian angel was a horny little bitch bird who is in heat 24/7, waiting to get taken by you. Maybe it will be quite fun?

Now, you made him like this. You made him dependent on the feeling of being filled to be brim and stuffed like an object. Well, at last, his actions were not in vain. You stopped going to parties and random hook ups, since you got a personal fuck toy right in the comfort of your home now <3

#sub character #sub!character #dom reader #dom!reader #sub bsd #sub bungou stray dogs #🍮 anon #sub fyodor #fyodor bungo stray dogs #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor bungou stray dogs #fyodor bsd #fyodor #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x you #fyodor smut #fyodor x y/n #fyodor dostoyevsky smut #angel fyodor

[outromoony]

Gold

@wolfstarmicrofic | Word count: 389

"And this is our new collection of gold rings. This is the—oh, fuck."

Remus cursed as one of the rings he was displaying fell into the coffee of a nearby customer. He met the customer's gaze, and both stared at each other in shock.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I'm so stupid. Please, let me get that out for you—"

"Well, that's one way to propose." The customer grinned, and if Remus's mind wasn't racing with fear of getting fired on his first day, he might have noticed the rapid pounding of his heart when his eyes met the stranger's. "But maybe I should know your name before we take that big step?"

Remus flushed furiously. "I'm truly sorry. I'll bring you a new coffee right now."

The stranger shook his head, his beautiful long black hair swaying around his face. When Remus looked up again, he realized he had never seen eyes so blue.

The stranger's grin widened as he fished the ring out of the hot drink. "Relax, it’s fine. But, you know, since you've already proposed, I think I’ll accept." He slipped the ring onto his finger, and it fit perfectly, as if it were meant for him. Remus felt like he was choking.

"That's not—I mean, yes, but I didn't—well, it's not—" Remus took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I didn’t mean to—"

"Hey, I'm just messing around." The stranger chuckled, his laughter deep and rich. "But you really should tell me your name. You know, just in case I decide to keep this ring."

"Remus," he blurted out, feeling his face flush even more. "My name is Remus."

"Nice to meet you, Remus. I’m Sirius," the stranger said, extending his hand. Remus hesitated for a moment before shaking it, feeling the warmth and firmness of Sirius's grip. "Now, how about that new coffee? And maybe you can sit with me for a bit? You look like you could use a break."

"I—I really shouldn't."

"Oh, come on. It would just be a few minutes, and perhaps we could meet for coffee another time? No rings involved, or... well, who knows." He winked, and Remus felt like he was floating.

"Yeah..." He finally relaxed enough to smile back. "Who knows."

Maybe his first day at work wasn't going so horribly after all.

#wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders microfic #sirius x lupin #sirius and remus #remus x sirius #remus loves sirius #sirius being sirius #sirius orion black #sirius o black #remus john lupin #remus j lupin #moony x padfoot #moony and padfoot #marauders #the marauders #marauders fandom #marauders era #the marauders era #dead gay wizards #dead gay wizards from the 70s

[watchmegetobsessed]

OLD GRUDGES (part 4)

A/N: it took me foreverrrr to finish this, but at last its here and thats what matters!! this is the final part of this mini series, hope you guys enjoyed their dynamic

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The past two days Harry has questioned quite a few times whether he somehow ended up in a parallel universe or maybe someone has been playing a very sick joke on him. Either way, he wants it to never end.

Y/N hasn't left his house since the night of  the break-in. In fact, she barely left… his arms, his bed… his mind. Not that he is complaining, waking up to Y/N in the morning, having breakfast with her, showering with her, spending the day just coexisting, always spending time together have been his personal piece of heaven. It’s been quite a sudden change, but he would quite literally do anything to keep it this way for as long as possible. 

Today they are forced to leave their cocoon though. Y/N has to go to the police to do some paperwork about the break-in, though there hasn’t been any news about the case unfortunately, then later they have to hit up the studio for a session. But at least the morning is theirs. 

When Harry steps out of the bathroom in a pair of sweatpants and a simple white t-shirt his hair is still damp as he makes his way around the bedroom, digging through his dresser for a pair of socks and plugging his charger into his phone before he walks out, heading into the kitchen where he knows Y/N is already sipping on her morning coffee just like she was yesterday and the day before. She made herself home quite fast, but he doesn’t mind. Actually, he loves the thought of his home as a trustworthy place for her as well, where she feels confident enough to do whatever she wants or take whatever she needs. 

Sitting by the dining table, her legs are pulled underneath her, the coffee is still steaming in the red mug she silently chose for herself to use during her stay. She is scrolling through probably some news page on her phone, playing with the hem of her (his) sweatshirt. 

“G’Morning,” Harry smiles as he enters, though they only separated about fifteen minutes ago when Harry left her in bed to shower. 

“Hi.” Her face brightens at the sight of him and it clutches his heart every time. 

As strange as the movement might have been just a week ago, now it feels as natural as breathing when Harry walks past her and presses a kiss to the top of her head before continuing his path to the kitchen to pour himself some coffee as well. 

They drink it first, talking, checking emails, getting ready for the day and then the phones are put away as they make breakfast and eat, strictly only focusing on each other. It’s been their usual without ever agreeing on it. 

And Harry loves every moment of it. 

“Do you want me to go to the station with you?” Harry asks over their now empty plates. 

“No,” she shakes her head. “It’s fine, it’ll be quick. I’ll meet you at the studio.”

“Alright.”

Hugging her knees to her chest, she is staring out the window that faces the sunny backyard while Harry’s eyes are glued to her face. While she is seemingly lost in her own thoughts, Harry’s mind gets into a spiral on his own. He’s been dancing on the edge of a burning question, but hasn’t found the right moment to ask it and quite honestly, he’s also afraid it might ruin their little bubble as well, so he’s been hesitant to bring it up. But it keeps nudging the back of his head whenever he gets lost in his whirlwind feelings for her. 

What are we actually doing?

The amount of unsaid things and changes that happened lately are starting to pile up and he knows they need to address them sooner or later. It’s not just about the past few days, but what’s been happening even before the break-in. Their dynamic had shifted immensely, but they never talked about what it all means. Now they act like a couple, share a bed, kiss, touch, have sex and talk like it’s completely normal and expected when just a few weeks ago they were ready to murder each other over the tiniest disagreement. 

Her phone buzzes on the table and reaching for it she turns it over to check the screen.

“I better start getting ready,” she sighs. Harry just nods as he watches her stand up, she brings her plate and mug to the dishwasher and then heads back to the bedroom, brushing her hand over his shoulder as she walks past. A gentle move, but it bears so much for Harry. 

Being apart from Y/N almost feels wrong. After she leaves to the station Harry runs a few errands, picks up a package and then heads to the studio, only thinking about whether she’s alright or not. He keeps checking his phone, hoping for a text or a call from her, like a lovesick puppy. Somewhere deep down he knows that he shouldn’t feel this deeply for her at this point, when everything seems fragile and ready to spill any moment, but he just can’t find the will in himself to care and do something about it. 

When she finally texts him that she’s on her way, he can finally breathe as relief washes over him. He tries to busy himself and not stare at the door, waiting for her to walk in, though he kind of fails. Miserably.

“Hi,” she greets him walking into the studio and Harry practically jumps to his feet as if his chair was on fire.

“How did it go?” He asks, his hand twitching to reach out to touch her, but he decides against it at last. She drops her bag onto the sofa that’s pushed against the wall before puffing out a sigh as she turns to face him.

“Nothing extra. Actually, nothing. I mean, they know absolutely nothing, there are no clues, nothing. Whoever did it was a genius and made sure to leave no trace behind.”

“How is it possible that they have zero clues? There must be something, a fingerprint, footage, anything.”

“There were a few fingerprints, but no match came up, so it’s useless at this point.”

“So then what happens now?”

“The case stays open for a bit, thes keep working on it, but honestly, I feel like there’s no point. They won’t find anything so I’ll just have to move on.”

“And go back to your place?” Harry asks. Part of him is panicking by the thought of letting her go back there on her own and then the other one because he doesn’t want her gone. He’s selfish and wants to keep her with him at all times, he is not ready to pop the bubble they’ve been living in the past days. 

“I can’t camp at your place forever.” Her words and face say different things. Because the way she is smiling at him as they both take seats tells him that she might actually like the idea of staying with him.

And he likes it too. 

“Let’s just put this all aside, okay? I want to work and forget all this shit.”

“Okay,” Harry nods. 

It’s easy for them to slip into work and leave everything else behind as music takes over their mind. It’s their first time working together since the shift between them and it appears that the change hasn’t been only affecting their private dynamic, but their professional as well, luckily in the best way possible. It is as if they could sense each other’s thoughts, they barely even have to communicate when they want to change something, the other just knows, just like how quick they share new ideas, barely saying a few words before the other is already making it happen. 

“As much as I would love to keep going, I think we should call it a night,” Harry turns his phone’s screen towards her so she can see how late it is now. Almost ten pm, they’ve been working for hours and now that Harry noticed just how long they’ve been here, they both can feel how tired they actually are. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll finish this when we get home then. I really want to get it done.” Sighing she shuts her computer and while she packs her stuff scattered around the studio, Harry is trying his best not to point out how she referred to his place as home. 

But the pleased smirk that’s hiding in the corners of his mouth is kind of a tell what he is thinking about. 

She rests her head on his shoulder in the back of the car on the drive home and once again, Harry selfishly ignores the urge to talk about their current state and just enjoys her closeness. Walking into the house he heads to the kitchen to make a tea for them both while she sits by the dining table to finish up the editing she started in the studio. They are talking and joking around and Harry can’t wait to drag her into the bathroom for a shower once she is done.

He is scrolling on his phone with his tea in his other hand when he can sense the change. He feels it before she says anything. 

Looking up he can tell she is tense, her body appears frozen as she is staring at her computer. 

“Everything alright?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, but she doesn’t answer, just starts vigorously typing and opening things on the computer. 

“No, no, no, this can’t be happening again,” she whispers as Harry slowly approaches her.

“Y/N, what’s the matter?”

“It’s… No, no!” she chokes, jumping to her feet, looking more anxious than he has ever seen her. Harry tries to lean closer to have a look at the screen, but she practically pushes him back, grabbing the laptop from the table. 

“Don’t fucking touch it!”

“What the fuck is going on?” Harry asks, now starting to lose his mind over not knowing what the problem is, what caused her to act this wild all of a sudden.

“It’s not there! They are all gone!”

“What’s gone? Did you not save what we recorded today? It’s okay, we can–”

“No! I’m not talking about what we did today! All of my unreleased songs! Everything I never gave away to the artists I worked with in the past year! They are all gone!” 

Her voice keeps switching from a whisper to shouting in just a matter of seconds as she is anxiously pacing the floor back and forth with the laptop still in her hands. 

“What do you mean gone?” Harry asks, still pretty puzzled about what’s going on.

Then Y/N stops and the look she gives him sends a shiver down his spine. It’s as if she has turned into a whole different person in the past few seconds. 

“Did you do it?” she asks in a tone that without a look of her expression would sound normal, but her eyes are bewildered and Harry’s pulse just keeps rising as he stares back at her.

“Do what?”

“Did you fucking take them? Huh? Was it you?!”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about what you already did once! Fuck’s sake I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you!” 

She storms past him, into the bedroom and Harry follows her, his anger mixing with confusion as he is trying to put the pieces together, with not much luck so far. When he catches up with her, she is throwing her stuff into her suitcase.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving!” she snaps. Harry tries to get closer and make her stop, but as soon as his hand reaches her shoulder, she jerks away. “Don’t touch me!”

“Y/N slow the fuck down and tell me what’s going on!” he pleads, his growing fear of having to watch her leave taking over his mind. 

“Don’t act like you have no idea! I really thought what happened then was a one time thing, I made myself believe that you were young, maybe someone influenced you! But it’s not the same now!”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“I’m talking about when you stole my fucking song! That’s what I’m talking about!”

Even though she just said it clearly, Harry is now even more lost about what’s happening. 

“Hold on! I stole your song? What the hell?!”

“Oh, don’t fucking act like you have no idea what I’m talking about,” she laughs bitterly as she keeps packing her things, like she is in a hurry to leave. “I really fooled myself into believing you changed, but this is proof you did not.”

“Y/N, I never stole anything from you! Would you stop packing and just talk to me?”

“How dare you say you never stole from me! Drop the fucking act, Harry! You know exactly what I’m talking about! Night Changes was my song, I showed it to you and then oh so conveniently I was not signed for the next album and the song was on it! Right after it disappeared from my computer!”

It takes time for Harry to even process her words. He is raking the deepest parts of his memory to put together what she is talking about and when his thoughts start to clear, she is already on her way out.

“Y/N wait!” He runs after her, catching up with her in the hallway. “I never stole Night Changes!”

“Then explain to me how the one song I showed you ended up on an album I never worked on?!” she snaps, suitcase still in her hand. “And explain how it happened again? I let you close and it happened again!”

“It looks fucking nuts, but it wasn’t me, Y/N, I promise!”

“We’ll see about that once the police have investigated this hell of a coincidence.”

That’s the last thing she says before walking out, leaving Harry in the eerily empty and silent house, with an actual hole in his chest. 

Y/N didn’t plan any of this. She did not plan the part where she got so close to Harry that his absence is now almost causing her actual physical pain, and definitely not the part where he betrayed her.

Again.

Or at least that’s where all the evidence is pointing. 

She shouldn’t have let him get this close to her, because now she wouldn’t feel this shitty and naive and mostly betrayed. 

She still remembers how it felt when she first listened to Night Changes just months after the file that had her version disappeared from her computer. She felt physically ill as she stared at the screen where a photo of the boys was shown but all she could look at was Harry in the picture. Part of her refused to believe that he had anything to do this, but her rational part won. There was no way he was innocent, he was the only person she showed the demo and then it was magically One Direction’s next hit. 

She despised Harry for using her in such a disgusting manner, he betrayed him in such an open and arrogant way, the song was getting popular and he must had known that she would hear it as well, but he did nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

For a long time she tried to put her disdain to the side and focus on her career, that’s why she agreed to work with him again. And also because there was a tiny sliver of hope somewhere deep down in her that still believed that Harry was innocent. 

She let that hope grow and her feelings for Harry as well, only to fall face forward again, ten times harder than before. 

Two days go by in a blur. She is back in her home but also tries to spend as little time there as possible, camping at friends’ and her sister’s place whenever she can. She tries to get her mind off of everything with work, but music seems to be betraying her as well, because somehow she always ends up thinking about Harry. 

He stopped blowing her phone up a few hours after their fight. She had like a million calls from him and messages filled with him begging for her to pick up the phone, but she ignored them all until they stopped. First thing in the morning she contacted her lawyer and she also gave the new information to the police as well. Harry might have not been the one who broke into her place, but it very much seems like he had something to do with the missing files. 

Then it’s radio silence and it kills her nerves. She finds herself often with her phone in her hand, her finger hovering over Harry’s contact, but she always talks herself out of contacting him. She knows she probably can never talk to him, ever. 

Another two days later is when her lawyer, Violet finally calls her with news. 

“So, good news, they actually know who broke into your house,” Violet announces and Y/N’s pulse jumps immediately.

“Really? Who was it?” she asks and all she can think about is how she hopes the person has nothing to do with Harry, even after everything. 

“Do you know a… Daryl Parker?” she asks, as if she’s reading the name off of a paper. Y/N’s eyes go wide.

“What? Daryl? The assistant?”

“Yeah, him.”

“But… how? And why?”

“Sweets, let’s meet at the station, they are expecting you in for some more paperwork and I have other news as well.”

“O-Okay.”

Y/N feels dizzy arriving at the police station, still not quite sure what to think of Daryl breaking into her home and possibly stealing her work. He did try to push her to give him more, but she never thought he would go this far just to get those songs. 

Violet is already there when Y/N walks in, waiting with an officer and the three of them move to a meeting room.

“So, Daryl Parker admitted that he broke into your house about a week ago and he was also the one who stole the files you told us about later,” the officer starts to explain the story, while he lays out a stack of paper in front of her that she has to sign. “While he was the one who did the dirty work, he is not the only one to blame.”

“Okay, then who?” she questions.

“Are you familiar with who Daryl’s boss is in the management company?” the officer asks and Y/N shakes her head no. She never actually met the guy, it was always Daryl who kept in contact with her, which at a point seemed weird, but she didn’t think much of it. 

“Daryl worked for Blake Finnegan,” Violet reveals and Y/N stares back at her as the puzzle pieces start to fit together slowly. 

“The guy who…”

“Yes, Blake from Modest, who worked with One Direction,” she confirms. 

Y/N finishes with the signing and pushes back the papers to the officer, thanking his work and he leaves them alone so they can debrief the rest of the story. 

“This was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. Blake was the one who stole your work back then and then made sure you didn’t return for the next album so he wasn’t busted. Daryl wasn’t working for him back then, but he was given so much track record from the past that they were able to recover not just the files they stole now, but the ones from the past and the data shows that it was all originally created by you.”

Y/N’s mouth is going dry as she tries to keep up with Violet and all the information she is hearing. 

Blake was the culprit of it all. He stole her work before and he did it again, hidden behind Daryl so she didn’t suspect him. 

“Does this mean that Harry…”

“That Harry Styles didn’t steal shit from you?” she laughs. “Yeah. It was an unfortunate coincidence, though he will be questioned because he heard the song before, he should have recognized it.”

“Wait, he will be actually questioned? When?”

“Um,” Violet checks her watch. “He’ll be here in about a few hours.”

The room is spinning with her. Harry is going to come here and be interrogated about this whole ordeal. Now she knows he wasn’t the original bad guy here and that damn hope is back in her chest that he wasn’t involved at all.

“Is there… Is there any chance they will let me talk to him first?” Y/N asks, staring back at Violet’s, watching as her straight expression turns into a smile slowly.

It feels like Harry hasn’t slept in days. He has, of course, but not nearly enough he should have. And he knows exactly when his random insomnia started. 

Walking into the police station with his lawyer he is ready to tell them everything and anything. Well, that’s what he’s been doing already, so it’s not a change. 

When Y/N stormed out of his place panic set in first, he tried to call her, text her, he was ready to bang on her door to beg her to speak to him, though he is happy he didn’t do the latter. When he realized she was not going to talk to him, he went into solution mode. 

He already knew who was to blame, he couldn’t believe that Blake Finnegan was still haunting him even years after cutting all ties with him. He was always the shadiest person around and he had quite a few stunts even back then, so it’s no surprise he went as low as stealing music. 

The eerie feeling of being at a police station is strong in his gut, even though he knows he is innocent. They are welcomed by an officer and then led down the hallway towards a meeting room. 

“A colleague will be here shortly, Mr. Styles,” he officer says as he opens the door for them. Harry just nods and steps into the room, taking one of the chairs around the small table in the middle. His lawyer is typing on his phone, pacing the floor back and forth as they wait and then the door finally opens again, but instead of seeing an officer walk in, it’s Y/N.

Harry’s stomach drops and he jumps to his feet instantly. 

“Y/N, hi!” he breathes out, looking at her frantically as if she was a ghost. 

“Hi. Can we talk?” she asks, her eyes landing on the lawyer beside Harry. “Alone.”

“I don’t think it’s–” the man starts to protest, but Harry is quick to stop him. 

“Leave us alone,” Harry says. The lawyer seems surprised and for a moment it seems like he will protest, but then he just takes a deep breath and walks out of the room. 

Once the door is closed behind him and it’s just the two of them, Y/N hesitantly takes the seat across the one Harry has been occupying.

“Did you… have anything to do with it?” she asks after a rather long pause. 

“No,” Harry answers instantly.

“For real?”

“Y/N, I would never steal your work or anyone else’s, really.”

“So then explain to me how this coincidence happened.”

Harry takes a deep breath and leans back in his seat.

“When we were in the band, we were always overworked. One album after the other with tours in between, I was… practically a zombie for most of the time. When Blake showed us the song, it was familiar, but I just never realized why. I’m not proud of it, but I just… never questioned it after. Not even after he said that you decided not to return for the next project.”

Y/N scoffs.

“I had no decision in that. I was just told that I wasn’t needed.”

“I know that now,” Harry breathes out. “But back then, I just let it go. And I’m so sorry for that, I should have recognized the song, I should have asked why you weren’t returning, I should have contacted you, so maybe… I’m not that innocent. I should have done all of these but I didn’t. I’m very sorry for them. But I never teamed up with Blake against you. I hated his gut.” He laughs bitterly. “I always had a bad feeling about him and I wanted off the team the first given moment.” 

Y/N can feel her throat closing up as she stares back at Harry, listening to his every word as if it really was an interrogation. 

“I never understood why you hated my guts,” he adds with another laugh. “I didn’t understand, because we were so close back then and when we met again you were… so different, but only towards me and you never told me why, not even when I asked you. I wish you told me about this, but I understand why you didn’t want to even… talk to me.”

“I thought you betrayed me,” she whispers, tears dwelling in her eyes. “You were the first person I trusted in the industry and I thought you straight up betrayed me.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I will do anything to get you the rights back on the song and I will pay you every penny you deserve for it.”

“I don’t care about the money,” she shakes her head. “Losing you was way more painful than losing the money I could have made from the song.” 

She takes a shaky breath and blinks up at the ceiling, a few tears rolling down her cheeks, but she is quick to wipe them away. Harry’s whole body is itching to stand up and go over to her, to hug her and be physically close to her, but he stays still.

“You know what’s funny?” she laughs through her tears. “I told myself that I accepted this project only for professional reasons, because it’s good for my career. But all along, I had this… hope inside me that I would find out that you had nothing to do with it and you’re still the same guy I fell for years ago.”

Harry’s heart skips a beat, lips parting at her words. She pauses and just keeps staring at Harry and he is just about to break the silence when she speaks up again. 

“I’m glad that hope turned out to be right.”

They start moving at the same time. The chairs screech as they are pushed back and they meet by the side of the table in a kiss that holds everything they never said but felt. It’s the kiss they should have shared years ago, it’s the kiss they should have shared when anger brought them together this time and it’s the kiss that resets everything in between. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he mumbles against her lips.

“I’m sorry too,” she whines, hands gripping his shirt for dear life.

“Let’s just stop being sorry, okay?” he chuckles, making her laugh as well as their kisses slow down. He rests his forehead against hers, arms curled around her frame tightly. “I missed you.”

“It’s been only like… four days,” she jokes, though she feels the same.

“Not just now. I missed you after you disappeared from my life before.”

Biting her bottom lip she leans back just enough so that she can look into his eyes. 

“Let’s leave our old grudges in the past. I want to move forward.”

Harry smiles at her warmly.

“I would love that.”

NEW: 

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N spotted on an afternoon stroll in London -  Fans can’t wait for the singer’s new album he worked on with his rumored girlfriend

YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE: 

Meet Y/N Y/L/N, the talented music producer who did not only capture the industry but also Harry Styles’ heart as well

One Direction’s Night Changes hits the charts again after Y/N Y/L/N legally becomes owner of rights over the song a decade after its release

Investigation about Blake Finnegan continues - even more proof was revealed of all the shady business the former manager did

Female producers speak up about the struggles they face in the industry just days after Blake Finnegan was arrested

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

[periluvr]

trouble ⭑.ᐟ

gojo satoru x female reader, mention of strangulation, mention of bruises, suggestive relationship, gojo being super protective over you

in which you got strangulated by kenjaku and mahito last night and gojo saw it immediately.

"Who did this to you" was the first thing Gojo said when he saw the bruises on your neck. He ran his hand lightly down your neck, his hand trembling for fear of hurting you more. Even though you don't usually see Gojo's eyes, you could feel that through his blindfold, his eyes were burning with rage.

You entered Gojo's office to give him some papers for a few missions, you being nothing more nor less than a secretary at their school. When Gojo saw you enter his office, he automatically knew that something had happened. He may seem very nonchalant and egocentric, but in reality, he's very observant and protective of everything around him, even more so when it comes to you.

"Hi! I've brought you the documents you asked for," you say simply before setting off again. — "Are you wearing a turtleneck in the middle of July?" you turn back to Gojo, not really understanding what he was getting at. "Yes, I caught a cold with my friends last night at the bar" you replied, trying to cover your lie. Gojo stood up and approached you, "A cold? really?" he sighed and crossed his arms.

"We got in late and—" Gojo cut you off, "You know I can see everything, don't you? It’s not like I've got an ability about this" he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. It was obvious he'd seen the bruises on your neck that Kenjaku had given you the day before.

"Your neck" he said, firmly. You looked at him, trying not to let the nervousness that was eating away at your insides show. You frowned, pretending not to understand what he was asking — "Show me your damn neck, I'm not going to repeat it a third time y/n", he repeated, he was getting impatient and it showed. You backed away, bumping into the door as you went, you had no choice but to tell him, he was going to find out one day in any case.

He approached you gently, pulled down the collar of your turtleneck, revealing the strangulation bruises taking place on your neck.

"Who did this to you?" said Gojo at the sight of the bruises on your neck. He ran his hand lightly down your neck, his hand trembling for fear of hurting you further. Even though you don't usually see Gojo's eyes, you could feel that through his blindfold, his eyes were burning with rage.

You looked down at the ground, ashamed, "I think it's Kenjaku and Mahito". He grabbed your cheeks and looked into your eyes, "What did they say? Are you hurt anywhere else? What did they do to you exactly? Tell me everything". You could feel that he was gradually losing control, it was the first time you'd seen him like this.

You explained what had happened, and the more words came out of your mouth, the firmer Gojo's face became. He showed no sign of affection, but you could feel that he cared for you in spite of yourself. "From now on you'll wait for me in the mornings and evenings and we'll come to school together, and when I'm on a mission you won't go to work." He gets up, grabs his jacket and keys, "But? my salary's going to be cut in half?" you answer, worried, how are you going to pay your rent, your bills or your gas? "That's not a problem, I'll take care of it," Gojo replied firmly, and left his office, slamming the door as he went. You saw him walk down the long corridor and recognized the direction he was taking: he was on his way to see the highers up.

a little fic in the middle of moving out lmao

i’ll be back next week 🩷 (i hope you like the new theme)

@emilyywhyy i hope you’ll like it!!! <3

#periluvr #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #i love you gojo #gojo x you #gojo angst #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru #satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satorugojo

[concreteangel92]

Thou Shalt Not Kill - Chapter 1

AU Noah Sebastian X female reader

MDNI

Summary: Reader is a detective and is assigned to a murder case which she soon connects with previous killings and figures out the religious affiliation, proving there is a new serial killer within the city. The reader soon becomes obsessed with the killers mind and methods and won’t rest until she figures out who the killer is. All while she gets used to working with her new partner on the case, detective Noah Davis.

Warnings: DESCRIPTIVE writing of graphic murders and killings, blood, gore, serial killer, violence, use of religion. I’m pretty certain that’s it for this chapter but please let me know if I’ve missed anything!

I will say this now, this story won’t be for everyone!! I’m comfortable writing/reading about this as I’ve always loved serial killer documentaries, murder mystery novels, etc but I’m not responsible for you reading this if you think you might get triggered or upset!! You have been warned now, I don’t want to get any shitty messages because you haven’t listened.

I have taken huge inspiration from AHS: Hotel which for those of you who know it, will definitely catch on haha but for this whole story, I’m taking inspiration from many different characters and stories! I do not claim to be an expert on detectives/the police btw haha so if it’s not completely accurate then I do apologise!

I’m very excited to start this, it will be fairly longish, definitely no smut at the moment but be patient, it will come haha 🤣

And again, if you would like to be added to the tag list then let me know!! I’ve added everyone who asked, who reblogged and some who liked the original post if I recognised your user names but I’ve probably missed so many out so let me know!

Tags: @reyadawn @thefallennightmare @hayleylatour @calleyx13 @english-fucker @malerieee @lilhobgobbler @glccmreid @badomensls @madomens @loeytuan98 @rosebushjhj @livingdeceasedgirl @lilrubles @samanthasgone @blackveilomens @hellayeahsworld @lookwhatitcost @thatchickwiththecamera

Ima1986

darling-millicent-aubrey

Ithoughtbynowidfeelbetter

softvgold

iluvmewwwww75

Ok so I believe you guys asked to be tagged but for some reason it won’t let me and keeps saying blogs couldn’t be found? I’m not sure why but I’ll try and fix that!

MASTERLIST

You walked fast down the dimly lit corridor in the seedy hotel in downtown LA, the place had a damp, musty smell and you knew if these walls could talk, they’d no doubt scream.

You’d been called to a particularly gruesome crime scene, you hadn’t had much else to go on but you knew your sergeant wouldn’t have called you if it was a ‘straight forward’ homicide.

Seeing some of your colleagues up head, you pulled on a pair of blue surgical gloves and walked into the hotel room.

The sight that faced you wasn’t one for the faint of heart. A couple that had been engaging in sex were now impaled together by what appeared to be a long metal rod. Both sets of hands had been nailed to the headboard and from the looks of it, they were still joined in the middle.

“The scene has already been documented detective”

“Not by me it hasn’t”

You ignored the officer and continued to survey the area. Two driving licenses were on the bedside table with two set of wedding rings next to them, you took note of the victims names and saw the marks where the rings would normally sit on their fingers confirming that they belonged to the deceased.

“They were married but not to each other. They were having an affair”

The officer from before spoke up next to you.

“Jealous ex?”

You glanced back to the couple on the bed.

“No. This isn’t jealousy or a crime of passion. This is something else, I highly doubt it was an upset partner”

You walked over to get a closer look, the woman who was nailed by her hands was slumped forward, body only being held up by the pole that was embedded low into the headboard and running through the man’s chest, blood had run down her body and into his, but what you noticed immediately was that there was more blood that had congealed around her groin and his.

You glanced around the room again and noticed a glue bottle sticking out from under the bed on the floor, picking up confirmed what you already knew.

“They were glued together”

You turned to the officer and handed him the glue to be put in an evidence bag.

“Have the forensic team been in?”

“Yes detective”

“Please have a case file sent to my desk immediately, start cleaning up in here and get someone to inform the families.”

You pulled the gloves off your hands and wrapped them up as you walked out of the room, heading back to the station.

•••••••

You walked into your office with a cup of coffee in hand, knowing it was going to be needed for the long evening.

You’d phoned ahead and asked for a few other files to be brought to you, something very eerily similar about some cases you’d read recently.

You picked up the first folder and flicked straight to the crime scene photos. Once again, these were not for the faint of heart, you felt your throat go slightly dry at the scene before you.

The photos showed a woman in her mid twenties strapped to the bedposts of her bed spread out wide, wrists red and cut from trying to get lose from the metal cuffs, her mouth had been sewn shut, her genitals and thighs covered in blood where the autopsy had concluded that she’d been assaulted by foreign objects repeatedly, ripping her apart from the inside. The bed was soaked dark red and written on the wall behind the bed in her own blood were the words ‘a lair is always willing to take the oath’

Her name was Nina Platt, she had been involved in a court case a year ago accusing her ex of raping her, he had been convicted and later took his own life in prison. Only later had his innocence been proven too late. Nina had been under further investigation when her body was discovered in her apartment.

You took a breath and put the photos down, needing a second before opening the next folder.

Oliver Wicks. 19 years old, body found in an ally way, hands cut off and never recovered, his body surrounded by stolen wallets and phones. This young boy had a criminal history of petty theft, in and out of juvie for years.

And the last folder showed an older couple in mid fifties, throats slashed, both clutching bibles with some of the pages shoved into their mouths. They had both been members of their local church, records showed that wasn’t always the case for them however, both had been well known on the drug and party scene before finding god later in life. Their bodies were discovered on a Sunday night after they failed to show for the Sunday service.

You took a sip of your coffee, wishing it was something stronger, before taking one photo from each crime scene and putting it up on your board. Taking a step back you looked over them.

You had no doubt that they were all connected somehow, they all showed similar qualities, they were a show, a display, for what, you weren’t certain yet but you were determined to find out.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in”

The door opened to reveal sergeant Matthews walking in.

“Detective Y/L/N”

“Sir”

You nodded in his direction and looked back over the board.

“Fuck…what a gruesome display. And you believe these are all connected?”

“I do sir, I think we have a serial killer on our hands. I just haven’t figured out the motive yet. None of these people have any connection to each other, all different crimes but somehow the same”

Sergeant Matthews ran his hand over his chin as he took it all in.

“This person must think that they are god”

Something in your mind sparked up.

“Say that again!”

“This person must think they’re god?”

Your mind was going into overdrive, something on the tip of tongue, what was it? What was it?

“God? God!”

Then it hit you and you quickly ran back to your laptop and started typing.

“Detective would you mind filling me in on what’s going on in that head of yours?”

Your eyes went wide as you’d found what you were looking for, you walked back over to the board and pointed first at the photo of the young boy.

“Thou shalt not steal”

You pointed at the older couple.

“Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy”

Then at the young girl’s photo.

“Thou shalt not bare false witness”

And finally at the couple from this morning.

“Thou shalt not commit adultery”

Your sergeant turned to you.

“The 10 commandments”

You nodded, you felt almost breathless at your discovery, there was a new serial killer in town alright and he’d been killing for the last couple months right under your noses.

•••••••••

Once word had got out, the newspapers had dubbed him ‘The 10 Commandments Killer’. The press was having a field day, it was on every channel and on the front page of every paper. A serial killer loose in the city, it was a frightening prospect.

All the previous cases had been transferred onto you, this was now fully your case and you had every intention to catch the killer as soon as possible before he struck again, there was still 6 commandments left after all.

You were once again stood in front of your pin board in your office, it was now filled with more crime scene photos, newspaper articles and all photos of any evidence that had been obtained. You were trying to figure out the killers mind, see what the connections between these people are or were they completely random? That thought was even more terrifying.

A knock at the door pulled you back into the room.

“Yeah?”

“Detective”

Your sergeant was once again in your doorway.

“I have assigned you a new partner to help with this case. I feel this is too much for one detective alone, especially given its nature.”

You nodded in understanding, no one should take on a case this big alone.

“Who am I working with?”

“Detective Noah Davis. New to station within the last month but had an excellent recommendation from his old station in Richmond, Virginia from where’s he’s transferred, highly experienced and he should be an asset to this investigation. I’ve brought him here to meet you”

Sergeant Matthews opened the door wider to reveal an extremely tall, broad but handsome man, his dark brown eyes meeting yours with an intense gaze.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you detective Y/L/N”

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader

[thatlittlered]

would've, could've, should've | aaron hotchner

warning(s): one whole curse word, smoking, stunning amount of fluff and a little bit of action

GIF by @littlecarmine

part one

part two

author's note: Sorry for the delay, hope it was worth it! I also want to thank the sweet anon for the ask with the Robert Siken poem, which I included here. Next part will be straight-up filthy smut, so stay tuned, fellow sluts.

Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

You don’t see much of each other for the next couple of days. Aaron is on autopilot, avoiding any chance to be alone with you. The rest of the team unknowingly act as a buffer and all he has to do is not look at you during work hours, keep the door to his office shut to not hear your laughter.

It’s a relief when you and Morgan are called to testify in court for a case. You’re somewhere far away for the day, where he knows you’re safe and he can go back to pretending nothing has changed.

The problems start when he’s not being kept busy.

 How much paperwork can one person do?

The stars align oddly in his favor and he’s into calls or meetings until long after everyone else has gone home. When ten pm rolls around, he finally calls it quits but sees no point in leaving in a hurry. It’s past Jack’s bed time, it’d be cruel to wake him up now and carry him back home when tomorrow’s Sunday. If all goes well, he can pick him in the morning and they’ll get to spend the day together.

His finger is hovering over Jessica’s number when he spots your name in his call logs. It’s silly and childish, but he hasn’t thought of you in a couple of hours and God.

Deep down, he knows he’s been incredibly unfair to you. He had to. Had to tell himself it was something outside of him causing him torment. An obstacle to overcome, a distraction to ignore. He had to act as if you were forcing your way into his life in order to be able to put up walls, but what have you really done except exist near him? He is the one to blame for allowing it to grow beneath his skin; succumbing to his need for some sort of intimacy when he could have -should have- nipped this at the bud a very long time ago. He recognized it within himself the other day, when he realized he could have -should have- kissed you.

But nothing is healed with a kiss. Only new grievances arise.

It’s where you go from there that matters and he finds himself unable to guide or be guided.

Where do you go from here?

When he decides to feed his insomnia with a cup of late-night coffee, he is yet again reminded of you. So, he calls, but you don’t answer and he pours another, completely indifferent to the idea of sleep.

It’s getting too late to be here, even by his standards. He tries calling again, but, no answer. He gathers his stuff to leave and there is a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach when he settles inside the car. It’s only eleven and you always say you never sleep this early.

Another call, this time to Emily, who miraculously, picks up.

“Hello? Hotch?”

There is a deafening buzz in the background; loud voices and music blasting.

Aaron apologizes for the late hour and tries to be discreet when he asks about you. Says he needs to go over something about a case file but you won’t answer his calls and he got worried.

“Yeah, she’s fine, she’s right here with me, but it’s a little hard to get her right now. Is it urgent?”

“Uh, no, don’t bother her. Is everyone else there too?”

“Not everyone, just the two of us, Garcia and Morgan. Do you need them as well?”

You didn’t invite him, why would you? He would have never said yes.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Sorry, sir, I can’t make out much with all this noise. We’re at the ‘Matter’ if you need us. I’ll tell the guys to call you as soon as they can, okay? Have a good night.”

So, he drives two miles a little before midnight to come sit outside ‘Matter’, which is apparently a very busy nightclub downtown, half a mile away from the nearest parking spot he could find.

He doesn’t really know why he came.

He can’t come in and join you. Can’t ask for you.

They probably wouldn’t even let him in while dressed like this.

It’s very unclear what the next step is.

He knows it’s pointless to call you again when you’re probably too busy dancing and drinking with a great many people who are not him. Morgan has some trouble keeping his hands to himself when he drinks.

He sits on the curb of the street, cracks open the pack of cigarettes he snack out of the car’s glove compartment, always hidden below the insurance papers. Astoundingly loud music plays every time the doors to the club open and people come out stumbling, kissing sloppily and dragging each other away.

He just wants to see you and put this horrible feeling inside him to rest.

“No fucking way.”

He jolts at the sound of your voice and throws away the cigarette, putting it out with his shoe before he turns to see you standing outside the club. You approach timidly until you can be sure it’s him and when you step closer to the streetlight, he can really see you. The clothes you could never wear to work, the shoes you apparently spend all your money on. You’re beautiful.

He can’t possibly move until you’re sat beside him. For the first time in what seems like forever, now that he’s grown so used to it, you keep a very respectable distance between your bodies.

“You didn’t have to throw it away; I already saw you and,” you pick up the abandoned carton from the sidewalk and almost laugh at how immaculate it looks just having been opened, “I have so many questions. Since when do you smoke?”

His voice is quiet, unamused.

“Almost never.”

You look at him curiously and he thinks you would make a great interrogator simply by the way you make everyone around you spill their souls out if it will satisfy you.

“Sometimes when I’m very stressed.”

You hum, “I never would have guessed that.”

He laughs to himself and looks at his hands.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of things that are not typical of me lately.”

You help yourself to a cigarette and he cups his hand over yours when the breeze makes it too hard to light up.

“Is that because of me? Am I a bad influence?”

“No. It’s me, I’m the common denominator.”

You hum again and smile at him teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Breakthrough.”

“So, this is what therapy is like?”

He wants to thank you, for always trying to make things as easy as possible for him. You open the door and difficult as it may seem, all he really has to do is walk through it.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t smoke in session.”

“Oh good.”

You’re sitting closer again and Aaron doesn’t know how. He doesn’t think either of you moved. He keeps his eyes on the road in front of him, glances at you only from the corner of his eye. Your perfume mingles with the smoke of the cigarette and it’s all a haze to him.

“Why are you not inside?”

“I needed a breath; it was very loud and packed in there… and I finally saw your calls.”

He hums, unable to find anything else to say.

“Why are you here?

“I don’t know.”

He knows that is not a good enough of an answer.

“I always have this terrible feeling that something is going to happen to you.”

Your shoulder touches his and he can admire the smoothness of it, focus on each mark there to avoid the dreaded eye contact.

“Do you think that fear is reasonable, or is it rooted in something else?’

His eyes shut tightly, “Don’t do that, please. Don’t talk to me like I’m a subject.”

“You use your ‘agent tone’ all the time outside of work.”

His voice deepens, “I am aware.”

Heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry I did all that and then backed out at the last minute.”

“It’s alright. I think I knew you would.”

“See, that’s even worse.”

You look at his suit, the wrinkles that have formed in the shirt underneath from the hours of wear.

“Did you come here straight from the office?”

A sigh, “Yeah.”

You nod your head in understanding and move to put out what’s left of the cigarette.

“I’m alright. I’ve got the others too; they’ll take me home. You can relax now.”

“I don’t think I ever can.”

You don’t know what to say really. If what he needs is time, you can give it, but he seems undecided as well when he picks up your hand.

“I think I’m scared of what will happen once the line is crossed.”

A confession.

That, you did not expect.

“Aside from the complications at work, I just,” his hand rubs gently on the spot your watch has left its mark, “I have proved time and time again that I can’t handle any relationship beyond professionalism and once we stop being just colleagues, I will lose you completely from my life.”

“Do you think that line has not been crossed already?”

He laughs quietly.

You can both feel the bouncer looking at you and Aaron is suddenly aware of how vulnerable he is right now.

“I guess it has.”

You’re both quiet for a little while.

“I have to go back inside now, or they’ll start getting worried.”

He looks like he’s about to say something, but no words leave his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them you were here.”

That hurt. You know it, but what else was there to say?

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll know.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze before you leave and he’s left staring while you go back inside.

-.-.-

A little past two, the girls drop you off in a shared cub before going their separate ways and you rush to your apartment building, only to find Aaron waiting there.

“Well, you certainly have a thing for sitting on curbs.”

He looks tired, so tired, and alone in the empty street. It’s very hard to maintain your position when he always looks this beaten down in his most tender moments. You wish to care for him, love him back into happiness but that wouldn’t be fair.

Still, you can’t help but go to him and he is relieved that you sit closer this time.

“Have you been waiting here this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

You softly take his right hand to look at his watch. His body relaxes at the touch.

“Huh.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, but I’m a little more drunk than the last time you saw me.”

Your skin glows under the soft moonlight and he notices.

It is technically tomorrow now.

“How drunk?”

His face moves closer and you can’t help but shiver at the sudden change. His breath is warm on your face. The words come out in a whisper.

“Not that much.”

That’s all it takes.

His lips press against yours once… then twice and then… he doesn’t stop.

You always thought he’d be one to kiss carefully and with absolute purpose, just like he does everything else, but he kisses like a man on fire. He seeks to quench something deep inside of him and you provide happily. The remnants of your lip gloss tingle on his mouth, as if kissing you alone is not enough of an awakening.

It’s becoming increasingly hard to keep up with breathing when he envelops you so, and cages you in the pleasant whirl of his scent. When you break away for breath, he’s quick to capture you once more. His hands come to your face to keep you there until he’s had enough, but how he can he ever have enough of you?

He only lets you go because he has to. You’re both practically panting and he can’t decide what to do. He wants to kiss you, look at you, touch you, but it cannot all be done at once. When your own hand comes to his face just below his jawline, he melts under the touch. His eyes are sunken, his body is begging for rest, but it would not come without you.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

His voice is low and breathy when he nods.

“Yeah…”

-.-.-

You walk upstairs, hand in hand, and Aaron can see your own exhaustion is taking over. Something started with that first touch. Your bodies wish only to find comfort near each other.

His breath is warm on your neck while you open the door, his hands softly placed on your waist with the excuse of keeping you steady. When you move to take off your shoes, he is behind you again, as if tied to you with invisible thread, and holds you gently by the elbow when he sees you struggling.

You’re suddenly very aware he is in your house again. Touching you.

“Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head no, but you’re too focused on the way his hand moves languidly up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

He is so caring. So soft below the austere guise.

“I just need to take a shower,” you almost stumble backward and he thinks it’s the alcohol, but it might just be the feeling of his hands on your face, “I must have fifty different people’s sweat on me right now.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”

His voice is soft – tired.

You turn on the lights for him in the living room and he gives a half-smile when you check on him again.

“I won’t be long.”

Once left alone, he gets to look around your house. He sees your carefully assorted nick-knacks and smiles at the framed pictures all over your bookshelves. He can’t help but notice you’ve chosen one, if not the only, photo of the team that he’s also part of.

He is important to you too.

He can see you in every corner of the room, in the books you buy and the realistic-looking-but-admittedly-fake plants sprinkled here and there for a lack of time to take care of any real ones. He can even see you in the soft material of the couch when he sits and lets his cheek touch the fabric. He has been here before in a dream, with your head in his lap.

The room is awfully quiet save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of running water in the background. For a man that’s usually so good at sitting alone with his thoughts, he suddenly can’t stand it.

He knocks gently on the bathroom door and opens it slowly, only to be hit with the dizzying cloud of warm steam. Your head peeks behind the shower curtain and he can tell you got tired of standing and sat in the tub instead.

“Is it okay if I sit in here with you?”

You thought he’d sit on the toilet seat, but he crawls to the edge of the tub and sits on the bathmat with his back to you.

How close is close enough?

Now that he’s ventured, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satisfied.

So, he closes his eyes and rests his head back on the, now warm, porcelain.

“Aaron.”

He doesn’t know if he actually fell asleep, but the water is now turned off and you’re looking at him. He realizes now, for the first time, that you’re naked behind him. Your hair and eyelashes are angelically wet, the sheen of water on your flushed skin is divine. He knows that you’d be warm if he touched you now.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

You smile at him -siren- and your hand grabs a handful of his shirt, staining it with water that reaches his body underneath and makes him shiver. You kiss him with plump wet lips and he reaches for you. His hand entangles in your hair until you’re both practically pulling at each other.

A less enamored man would have broken away just to sneak a peek at your bare skin, but he won’t. He is respectful even now, even like this.

“I should have kissed you the other day. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

It’s a whisper when his mouth leaves yours, but you catch it.

You hum, eyes glossy, “Would've, could've, should’ve.”

What matters is now.

He kisses you again – just one more time. You both feel like giddy, lovesick children.

“Can you hand me my bathrobe?”

The bathrobe is also impossibly soft to the touch and when you emerge clad in it, he thinks he’d like to hold you. The spell of the warm steam is broken outside, however, and being so close to your naked body suddenly becomes very serious.

You let him sit in your bed, still fully clothed, save for his suit jacket, and he closes his eyes again. The comforter underneath is lovely.

Is everything in this house soft?

Is this what it feels like to be loved by you?

You disappear inside the walk-in closet and reappear, now properly dressed in your pajamas. The bed dips when you sit next to him and he turns to you completely.

“I have a T-shirt you can sleep in, don’t know about pants though.”

Please. Just be here, with him.

He watches you leave, but it’s not long before you return with the aforementioned shirt. You laugh when he finally realizes he’ll have to sleep in his boxers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you.”

He throws a teasing look, but can’t possibly come up with a clever answer right now.

“I’ll go dry my hair and you can get dressed, alright?”

You are so gentle with your guidance that it makes him feel like a helpless child, but there’s a hidden relief at that. It’s nice; being cared for like this and there is something to be said about parallels, with you going now to do as you had done a week and a half ago in a Florida hotel and him waiting for you – on your bed.

It’s the same, but it’s different.

He hangs his work clothes carefully on the chair in the corner of your room and goes to sit on the bed, but feels too uncomfortable to climb under the covers. He knows you’d find his duality funny; how he goes from hungrily kissing you to being too embarrassed to join you in bed, even if it’s only for sleep.

You notice his stiffness when you come back in the room, but don’t say anything. It’s not exactly easy for you either, you’re just better at hiding it than he is. You choose to lead by example instead and turn off the lights before reaching for the one on your nightstand and climbing inside your bedding.

He only speaks to deflect attention from him again, “You have a TV in your room.”

“Jealous?”

He turns to look at you and you’re perched up on the plump pillows, smiling at him. Your hand reaches for his own over the comfort and you gently pull him to you.

He comes, of course.

“I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“Of course you don’t.”

He joins you with his back on the pillows and his shoulder touching yours, but he’s still too stiff.

“What do you watch?”

“Mostly reruns of sitcoms-,” he laughs at that, “-Seinfeld.”

“Isn’t that show a thousand years old?

“You would know.”

He laughs again and you can almost make out a wounded pout on his face, but a kiss is enough of a cure. His shoulders relax and he gives in to the warmth and softness; be it the bed or you next to him. You can tell he’s barely managing to stay awake, but he still can’t let go completely. His head slumps backward again.

“Can we turn it on?”

You find the courage to caress his hair, admiring the softness of it and the discreet sprinkle of grey that you can only see up close.

“If you want.”

The quiet humming of the television and your breath in his ear, putting his mind to ease, are enough for him to finally sleep and you’re not long behind. His head is turned to the side where you are, hand tightly holding yours.

Later in the night, when you stir in your sleep, he pulls you further into him – wraps his arm around you completely and doesn’t let go.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #thomas gibson

[spookwyrdie]

Sweet Spot {part 1}

{part 1}{part 2}{part 3}{part 4}{part 5}{part 6}

Baker Felix x Florist reader

summary: You're putting together the floral arrangements for your ex's wedding as a favor, forgetting how passive aggressive he can be about your love life. Fortunately for you, one of your best friend's in the world comes over to feed you sugar and make you a sweet offer to get back at your ex. genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint // word count: 2.8k // warnings: adult dialogue, sexual themes, wet dream // a/n: Trying out something longer and fluffier this time! If you'd like to be on the taglist, reply to this post or send me an ask 🥰

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

You should have never agreed to do this. Your fingers were sore from wire wrapping all the different bouquets, one for each bridesmaid, the ring bearer’s pillow, and the flower girl. So far, you were only halfway done with the floral arch and hadn’t even gotten to start on the table settings yet. There were bits of torn leaves, crushed flower petals, and feathers strewn around your apartment, trying to deal with the last minute changes in aesthetic that the bride asked for.

 The shift from a classic summer bouquet to something more bohemian wasn’t impossible, but it was a challenge with the wedding a week away. It definitely wasn’t your favorite aesthetic in the world, but you were determined to make it work.

The question of why you had agreed to do this at a quarter of your normal fee was beginning to fester in your mind, especially for your ex’s wedding. 

You and Johnny were amicable, sure. Civil might be a better word for it. You didn’t have any leftover romantic feelings for the man - that ship had sailed ages ago. The main problem you had now with him is that he always seemed to be in competition with you, always trying to steal your thunder or diminish your accomplishments. It was always underhanded and passive aggressive and you didn’t have the energy to really push back.

Speaking of the devil, your phone pings with a text message.

❌J: hey y/n, just checking in about the florals. Jenny is freaking out and wants an update you: working on them now! [image attached]  ❌J: wow! Hard at work! Is this the bride’s bouquet? you: yep! Putting the finishing touches on it now’s ❌J: it looks really busy, are you sure this is what she asked for? you: yes. I promise I’m following her vision that we spoke about during our last consultation. ❌J okay! just making sure! I know some of these changes need a quick turn around. ❌J: oh also… ❌J: i wanted to chat with you about something you: ? ❌J: I know things have been a little rough in the dating department for you lately but you still officially have a plus one to the wedding, in case you wanted to bring your sister or someone! you: …thanks.  you: Don’t know where the idea that I’m struggling with dating came from, but I appreciate the plus one. ❌J: I had just heard through the grapevine is all. ❌J: there’s someone out there for everyone! You’ll find them eventually. ❌J: like me and Jenny! We were just made for each other 💕 you: okay, Johnny! Great chatting, I’ll get back to work now! 

You swipe out of the text thread and pinch your brow, the feeling of a building tension headache settling right between your eyes. His audacity is always bewildering, he can have such a sickeningly sweet tone while making sure to get a jab or two in to hurt you. 

Sure, you haven’t had a solid relationship since the two of you broke up, but he doesn’t have to rub your nose in it. The relationship ended amicably enough once you both graduated from college, realizing that the two of you were drifting apart as you pursued your respective careers. Staying civil made it easier to maintain the friend group, neither of you had any real reason to be upset with the other. That didn’t mean you were close, you still kept your distance.

 When he had gotten engaged, you were genuinely pleased for him, and a little relieved. Sometimes, when you’d run into each other at parties, he would make it a point to find you and tell you how well he was doing. You’d get the feeling that he was trying to showboat his accomplishments - he always wanted to tell you all about his successes, all the great things going on in his life. 

He got a great job at some law firm, a promotion and another promotion. Then he had met Jenny, they got engaged, and wasn’t it just so cute that their names were so similar? Jenny and Johnny, Johnny and Jenny! It became their whole personality as a couple and he’d corner you to tell you about how amazing she is and how he had never met anyone who just got him like she did. Every time you’d deal with this, you felt like he had poured corn syrup on you with how saccharine he sounded.

He’d hear about your ebb and flow of love and give you such a pitying look. “Oh you haven’t been dating? That’s too bad, there’s someone out there for everyone! Just look at me and Jenny!” Just throwing small digs in your direction that flew under the radar for most of your friends. 

But you knew. 

You knew he was always trying to make you feel like you had “lost” the break-up. 

~~~

A knock at the door brings you back to the present moment. 

“Y/n~! It’s me! Open up,” a deep voice lilts in a sing-song voice. 

You shake your head, trying to snap out of your shitty mood to answer the door. On your doorstep is one of the best things that came into your life with his ice blond hair, freckles, and a smile that could light up an entire room. Before you can say anything, Felix barges past you into your apartment, holding two paper bags with the bakery’s logo on it.

“I brought some new flavors for you to try, I’m experimenting for the springtime,” he says as he starts unpacking travel pastry boxes with different colored cakes inside.

“Ugh, please don't talk to me about weddings right now,” you sigh. He pauses his unpacking.

“What’s up? You sound like someone kicked your dog.” 

“I just had the most passive aggressive interaction with my ex, Johnny.”

You open the text thread to show him. 

“This is your ex?”

“Yep.”

“Damn, he’s not even being subtle about it.”

“Nope.”

The room is silent for a split second before Felix brightens up again. 

“Well fuck that, the flowers look great, despite the boho bad taste. Come try these new cake flavors I’ve been playing with! Sugar always cheers me up.”

You give him a small smile, he always knows exactly how to bring a little optimism into a shitty situation. “Sure Felix, what have you got for me?”

Soon, you have 4 plates and forks out for the different cake concoctions.

“I’ve been playing around with different florals and citrus for spring, so here we have a lavender cake with key lime frosting. Over here, we have an earl grey cake with lemon curd and lemon buttercream. Then we’ve got a vanilla cake with a pistachio filling and a rose buttercream. Finally we have a jasmine green tea cake with yuzu curd and a vanilla glaze,” Felix says, bouncing on his toes. 

“Okay, Mary Berry! They all sound delicious.”

“You have to be one hundred percent honest with me, I want actual feedback on these!” He grabs your shoulders and looks deep into your eyes, your heart skipping a beat briefly at his intensity. He looks so eager for you to try his different concoctions. Most couples weren’t looking for anything too extreme in the way of flavors, most opting for a basic white cake and buttercream, so you knew Felix loved to share the uncommon combinations he came up with.

They were all so beautiful, perfectly cut out and frosted with care. You picked up your fork enthusiastically.

“Fuck, Felix, that’s delicious,” you say, savoring the citrus flavors. Every single one you tried was more delicious than the last. Your favorite had to be the earl grey and lemon. “This one tastes like how a springtime tea party feels.”

He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling into little crescent moons, his freckles stand out when he smiles so brightly.

“Thanks, it’s always nice when I get to play around with flavor,” he says, leaning back into his seat. As he stretches, his shirt rides up to reveal a small expanse of the bare skin where his hip meets his lower belly, the lean muscle definition standing out in the lamp light. You tear your eyes away when you realize you’ve been lingering your gaze on the scant inch of skin.

 “Oh my god, did tell you?” Felix blurts out suddenly. “I’ve been working with this couple for an upcoming wedding. Absolute nightmare. Terrible taste! Guess what they finally settled on for their flavor.”

“I don’t know, something basic I bet.”

“Fucking mint chocolate chip.”

“Mint chocolate??? For a cake???” You reel back in horror. What on earth kind of combo was that for a wedding cake?

“They insisted on it!” he says, throwing his hands in the air. “Well, the bride did. The groom was never at any of these sampling appointments. She was onher own and really pushing for something unique.”

“I guess it’s unique to make your guests hate you for your choice of cake flavor,” you say, grimacing at the thought of a mint chocolate cake. “Disgusting.”

“I feel bad for their wedding guests. That’s such a controversial flavor for ice cream, I can’t imagine how it’ll go down for the entire reception.”

You hum in agreement, picking up your fork and finishing off the last of your cake in one frosting heavy bite. 

“Y/n you’ve got a little-“ he reaches up, gently holding your chin. 

His gaze softens as he looks at your lips and you freeze in place. Your heart picks up speed, hammering in your chest, at this gentle touch. He doesn’t know that you have had a thing for him for years now, but you’ll never tell him. You love having him as a friend too much to ruin it, he’s the one spot of sunshine on dreary days. There’s no chance he’d reciprocate your feelings, he could literally date anyone the way strangers constantly fall in love with him at first glance.

But right now, he’s focused on your lips, his thumb brushing them carefully, swiping the bit of frosting that was left from your last bite.

“Oh my god!” You force out a laugh, pulling out of his grasp in embarrassment. Taking a napkin, you start furiously wiping your mouth. “Sorry! It was really good!”

“That’s the perfect kind of response to one of my baked goods!” He smiles, licking the frosting off of his thumb. Your heart leaps into your throat. 

Felix never seems to notice the effect he has on people, overwhelming charm, the magnetic pull he has on anyone within 10 ft of him. When the two of you worked at the old cafe together, you’d take a mental tally of the number of customers that would leave with hearts in their eyes after ordering coffee from him. You thought that after five years of friendship you could get used to it via exposure therapy, but his allure slams you in the chest all the time.  You try to keep yourself grounded in reality when he tugs at heartstrings like this - he does this with everyone so you try not to lose your head. But the way he’s looking at you now, leaning in close with fierce affection in his eyes, makes the delusion that he feels the same about you seem almost real.

You giggle nervously and move to tidy things up from the table after you two are done sampling. Felix leans against the counter, watching you, as you start washing the plates.

“I have an idea,” he says. “For your plus-one situation.”

“Okay, shoot.” 

“What if you take me as your date?”

“Be serious, Felix,” you chuckle.

“I am being serious, I clean up real good,” he says, grabbing at your waist playfully.

“Oh!” A fork slips out of your hand and clatters into the sink. “I mean- you don’t have to do that.”

“Nah, I’d like to! Think about it, it’d be perfect, Johnny has no idea who I am and I can brag you up while I’m there. Rub his nose in it for a change.”

“I-“

“Just think it over, no rush. I think it’d be real fun though!” 

You look at him blankly for a moment, your heart thumping in your chest again. “ Yeah, I’ll think it over.”

~~~

Your eyes are closed when you feel a pair of hands slink around your body, drawing you into a chest of hard, lean muscle. The scent like an apple orchard on a rainy autumn morning greets you, petrichor and wood mixed with something crisp and sweet, enveloping you in a sense of comfort. You look up to see who’s arms embrace you to find Felix hovering over you, deep brown eyes locked onto yours. You’re so close you could count the freckles on his cheeks and give a name to each one. He hums as he pulls you in closer, a deep resonance vibrating through his chest, warming you in more ways than one. 

Tell me it’s real, he says, almost silently.

It’s real, you reply. 

He leans down to capture your lips, pausing above you to nudge his nose against yours and smile. 

I’ve waited so long for this, he says as he finally presses his lips against yours softly. His movements are gentle but insistent, trying to communicate with you, speaking quietly of the years of yearning that have been building. Your skin sings with the way his hands splay on your lower back, pushing your pelvis into him as he presses his tongue against your lips, asking for permission. The kiss deepens and you fall further into him, molding yourself against him. Your hands wind their way into his hair, those ice blond strands wrapped up in your grasp.

A small tug has him detaching from your mouth in a gasp, arching into you ever so slightly as his eyes flutter shut. His fingers find purchase in your plush hips, gripping into you harshly as he yanks you even closer to his body, no space between your body and his. Your breasts press into him, feeling his every breath move against you. He groans at the feel of you before he wraps you up into another kiss, this one more fervent. The way your soft body fits against his so well has his tongue dancing with yours, surging into you then backing away, teasing you until your body feels like it’s on fire. 

You whimper into his mouth when he shifts, coaxing your feet apart to slot his thigh between your legs. He bears down on your hips, pressing your core against his flexed muscle. Liquid heat pools in your belly as he starts rocking against you, feeling his length against your hip, pleading for friction. His hands snake down to grab onto your ass, kneading into the thick flesh, controlling the pace of your grinding into him.

You feel that arousal building inside of you, the tension has you clenching while you rut your hips against him. You feel how wet your panties have become as they slide over your clit, your hips stuttering against him, nearing your peak. 

Felix, I’m- you start to say but he cuts you off with a kiss.

Come for me, y/n, he murmurs against your lips. I want all of you. I wanna feel you lose control.

His words have you moaning, your brow furrowing as your hips shake. He holds you steady as he bounces his leg slightly to add extra pressure. You gasp, feeling your muscles tighten.

Give it all to me, he whispers against your lips. It belongs to me.

His voice sounds distant as you feel yourself coming to the edge. 

Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. You find yourself in bed, thrusting pitifully against your pillow, your heart racing and your skin flush with arousal. As you start to pull yourself out of the dream you were so wrapped up in, your orgasm shatters through you, moaning into the dark of your room. Your legs shake as your core muscles flutter, throbbing at the thought of Felix’s mouth on yours. As you start to come down from your high and settle into reality, you can feel your own pulse in your clit, your legs tangled in your sheets with a pillow between your legs, forehead glistening with sweat. 

It felt so real, like you could actually feel the ghost of his hands on your ass rocking you against his body, his groans ricocheting in your chest. You haven’t had a dream like that in ages, it was so vivid. You wanted it to be real so badly.

That settles it. You reach for your phone, the light piercing through the darkness, staring at the clock that reads 4:26 AM. Opening your messaging app, you type out a quick text and hit send.

you: okay Felix, let’s do it. Will you be my plus one?

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #felix x reader #felix smut #stray kids fanfic

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Hi, I love your writing! I'm not sure if you are doing the erotic horror prompts anymore but if you are, then may I request a Prompt 9 OR 34 with John Wick?

Hi, thank you so much, Anonymous. It means the fucking world to me!!! Allow me to express my gratitude with some predator/prey:

(I know these are supposed to be horror, but I keep turning them into fluff. Please forgive me🥺❤️)

“So, the first rule of self defense is run,” John says, giving her a heavy, doubtful side eye that speaks volumes about his faith in her to do so. 

“Second?” She asks, arms crossed, foot tapping, watching him stalk circles around her like he’s going to drop her at any moment - her heart patters wildly every time she sees his step slow or his eyes move to a vulnerable part of her body, even though she knows that whatever “tells” he exhibits are actually fakeouts and dead ends. Just a way to get her nerves worked up so that she’s taking him seriously.

He stops in front of her, places a finger in the center of her chest, and she knows he could give a little push and she’d be flat on her ass.

But he doesn’t. He smiles. “Hide.”

She rolls her eyes. “The third?” 

“Fight. And -“ he moves his finger against her bare skin, drawing her eyes and attention, then flicks her lightly on the forehead as punishment for falling for it. “Don’t roll your eyes at your superior.”

She rubs the pink mark. “Ow,” she tells him, even though the trick only stung a tiny bit. 

“Now say, “yes, master.”” His eyes light with mischief. 

Every piece of her fucked, masochist body wants to fight him on that if only to earn more brutality for it. But this is supposed to be critical training, even though her trainer isn’t taking it as such.

She figures that she’ll be the determined one, for once, so she tips her head, straightens her shoulders, and says, “yes, master.”

His eyebrow raises behind untamed bangs. “Good.”

“Did you take that from a job orientation class?” She asks him.

“What?”

“At jobs, they use the ‘run, hide, fight’ for active shooters.”

He shakes his head no, but it’s so hard to tell when and if he’s fucking with her…

“Have you ever had a normal job?” She wonders aloud. 

He shrugs. “Then you already have the basics down. Excellent.” He continues circling. “Start small,” he says. “Then, work your way up.” 

She nods, although annoyed with being ignored, continue.

“So, we start with running.” 

She cringes. The mere thought of him watching her run laps is painfully embarrassing. 

Wanting to impress and not kill this before it even gets started, she keeps her mouth shut. 

“I’ll give you a minute head start.” 

Wait, what did he say?

She almost laughs. “We’re racing?”

His grin is worrying. “No, I’m chasing you.” 

In that case, she wants to ask for at least a five minute head start; eyes his thick, long legs. The taut muscle is visible shifting and tensing, even under his baggy sweatpants.  

“You’re going to catch me,” she tells him, wanting to argue about this being unfair. 

“Then you’d better start running,” he replies, flipping his wrist over to check the ticking time. 

“What - where am I allowed to go?” Cool sweat collects at the nape of her neck. 

“Anywhere.” He’s still looking at his watch, waiting patiently. 

“When are we starting?” 

His eyes flit up, glint at her, then focus back on the dwindling time. “Five seconds ago.”

Prickling anticipation drives her to argue. “How is that going to help me? Just running all day so you can keep catching me? Pretty soon I’ll get tired and will just give up and let you catch me.” 

“Oh, that’s what I forgot to mention,” John murmurs.

Anger anxiety cocktail spikes. Forgot to mention? There’s a lot of shit that he’s conveniently forgetting to mention.

“If I catch you, I tickle you.” His grin grows into a sharp-bladed tip.

“John,” she says, voice worried, which delights him. “That is not fair. You’re going to catch me and you can’t just tickle me all day when you do.” 

He’s a reasonable man. He’ll see her issue. She’s valid in her concerns, and they both know it. 

“Yes I can.” 

“Are you serious?!” 

“Uh huh.” He taps his watch face. “Thirty seconds.” 

Her shoes slip on the cushiony matts, landing her on her knees before she can start bolting.

He resists the urge to go to her. Thankfully, she’s not down for long, or else his concern would get the better of him. 

She stands and runs. Up the stairs, already panting and sweating, adrenaline an ache that builds higher the farther away she gets from him. 

Out the door of the gym, down the hallway, trying not to fall again and losing precious time because of it.

She’s in the cold before she knows what she’s doing. Her t-shirt does nothing to cover her from the frost, but fear and physical exertion help her stay warm. 

Down the left block, then ducking through an alleyway, wondering if he’s on her tail by now. 

Blessedly, there’s no snow on the ground, so she’s not leaving any footprints. Also, that means she can go faster and not have to worry about falling. 

She rushes a corner and almost takes out an older man walking his dog, so, of course, she has to stop and profusely apologize.

“It’s fine, dear,” he chuckles.

She pats his friendly Labrador on the head. “Are you sure?” She looks him over, and he seems okay. Her memory says she ran smack dab into his frail frame, but maybe it’s just her psychosis acting up again. 

“I’m alright, dear, where is your coat? Your skin is ice cold.”

“Oh, I left it at home, just going for a jog,” she replies, trying to be casual. 

His fluffy dog pushes a wet nose into her hand and nuzzles her out of more attention.

“This is Sam,” the older man introduces. “He is very friendly.”

“He’s amazing,” she says, using both hands to stroke blonde, cold fur. 

“Are you training for a marathon?” The man asks. “I hear there’s a big one by Macy’s next week.” 

“No. Just exercising.” She smiles up at him, wondering how to politely break this conversation off and save her own ass. 

Behind him, about half a block down, is her pursuer and teacher.

It would be better if he looked disappointed. So, so much better. 

Her hand stills on Sam’s head. 

That expression would be a glare if his mouth wasn’t pulled up at the seams. His eyes of brilliant brown are blown black. Like a shark. No, too intentional to be a shark - it isn’t pure hunger that drives him. 

Gotcha.

Fear is the only thing she’s capable of feeling for a couple of seconds as she forgets what, exactly, is going on while an instinctual and ancient part of her remembers what it’s like to be hunted.

She’s going to feel really bad, later, about turning away from a nice man and his dog without so much as a goodbye and sprinting the opposite direction.

That trepidation just coils tighter the more she runs. She wasn’t built for this. Her legs are too short, her body too pillowy to gain any sort of momentum, her lungs too small for the air required in running. 

It’s nothing but luck and adrenaline carrying her down crossroads and alleys. 

She spares a glance behind her, and almost feels like she’s winning when she doesn’t see John. 

It’s because he’s in front of her. 

At the end of the gravelly side street, lounging lazily on the wall. 

Michael fucking Meyers, that’s what this reminds her of. You never see him moving, but somehow he’s always catching up to you. 

She almost falls again when turning around to dash the other way, but manages to keep a shaky, vertical grip on earth.

John surpasses her, the easy stride of his legs infuriating, and plants himself in her path so that she runs smack into his chest. 

There’s no time to get away. He already has her biceps gripped tight. 

She winces, writhes, glower resembling more of a pout. 

“When you run,” he says, kissing her head with a soft mouth that contradicts his hard grip. “You zigzag. Go every direction. Never in a straight line. Never predictably. You have to not think about where you’re going, but focus wholly on your destination.”

“Helpful tips that I should have known earlier?” She tries, grinning dryly.

He chuckles. “If I just tell you, you won’t learn. Which reminds me: Let’s take you home and get you warm. I owe you some merciless tickling, don’t I?”

“I was hoping you’d forget,” she groans. “Second chance?” 

“You’ll get plenty of chances,” he assures, leading her back to where she came with a big arm wrapped around her shoulders to keep her warm.

#john wick x reader #john wick fanfiction #john wick x plus size reader #keanuverse fic #keanuverse #Idk wtf this is #My touch starved brain said fluff #And I obeyed #IV Drabbles

[hellsite-detective]

Hi! Are you still active?

hey!! i just wanna apologize for not being active. every time i think about coming back, a new life thing comes up and prevents me from it. i really wanna come back tho!! i’ve seen all the post cases ive been getting and they look so interesting and i wanna tackle them!! and maybe one day i will! but i’m still on my hiatus (and i feel a bit bad about it hehe)

but as a life update, work has been going… okay. it could be better honestly but i’m stuck with it for now! i need to find a job at a smaller locally owned business rather than a corporate job, this isn’t the environment for me. but besides that, ive also been focusing on my writing career!! developing my novel series has been super fun! and i recently published my first fan fiction which is super exciting!! (if people wanna know about it maayyybe i’ll post a link here hehe)

but besides that i’ve just been focusing on life and getting through one day at a time! therapy has been going well, and we have been managing our life and system quite well both thanks to that, and each other! i’ve also made an actual irl friend who i hang out with!! i’m actually getting out of the house and LIVING now, which is something i never really did before and it feels refreshing!!

additionally you’ll all be happy to know my yuri manga collection has continued to grow and i couldn’t be happier hehe (this himejoshi is thrilled)

but that’s the life update!! again, sorry for not being around! i’ve been trying to think of some way to manage both work and the blog better. some sort of new daily schedule for posting that lightens my load but also keeps post cases coming. i don’t have any ideas right now, but if i ever think of anything ill announce it! until then, keep sending in post cases, send me any additional asks you want, and i will catch you on the flip side~!

sincerely,

Hellsite Detective, P.P.I.

#this became long woah #all that to say i’m technically still active but out of the office #i’ll be back eventually i swear!! #ask #hellsite detective #not a post case #the detective responds

[mrsjellymunson]

‘Til Next Time

Pairing: Masc!celebrity x fem/masc/gn!hair & makeup artist!reader

Suggested personalities*: Rockstar!Eddie Munson/Celebrity!Steve Harrington/Joseph Quinn/Joe Keery/Heath Ledger/Elliot Page/Jason Momoa/Robert Sheehan

Premise/summary: The characters only get small pockets of time together, but they make the most of it. The star travels a lot. The makeup artist doesn’t want to go public or be photographed.

WC: ~700

CW: 18+ MDNI! SMUT, NSFW, can be an RPF. Talk of sex, including penetration (unspecified) and oral (m rec). Secret relationship, longing, open ending.

A/N: I had this scenario in my head but couldn’t decide who to write it for, so as an experiment I’ve left it as ambiguous as I can so that you can insert your choice of characters into the two roles. The limitations are that the famous personality uses he/him pronouns, and both characters have styleable hair. Do let me know who you choose, and whether this works! (Please note: I am far from an expert on trans or gender identity issues, so if I’ve misstepped please let me know.)

(*Careful, Kittie, your list of fictional boyfriends is showing… 😜)

Masterlist

“How long do I have you for this time?”

“Half an hour. Maybe a little longer.”

“I’ll make it work.”

.

You’ve been part of his entourage for about a year now. There was an instant connection, you both felt it, but you only started seeing each other (if you can even call it that) a few months ago.

Stolen moments, hurried liaisons. Ships passing in the night, or whatever that cheesy saying is.

Sometimes it’s an airport bathroom. Sometimes a hotel room with what feels like dozens of other people buzzing around. Once, the back of a limo, your equipment case rattling around as you were driven to some awards ceremony, trying not to poke eyeliner where it doesn’t belong, or get powder on his (very fancy) suit. A few stolen kisses, his hand on your thigh the whole time.

In terms of how long you get alone, sometimes it’s literally a few minutes. Occasionally, it’s a few more. An hour? Luxury.

There was that one memorable time when you had a whole two hours together. And access to an actual bed.

Today, you’d spent most of your thirty minutes with him pressing you against the vanity unit in various orientations, his hips rolling into you so hard you’re sure the edges will leave horizontal bruises. This was after you’d dropped to your knees and worshipped him, not allowing him to return the favour because, you’d told him, any mess on his face would make applying his makeup even harder.

You’ve become an expert at the latter, and styling his hair, in a fraction of the time it would usually take you. Anything to extend the snippets of time you have alone where you can actually touch each other.

There’s a knock on the door. A formal request that he exits to perform his professional duties. Today, it’s a press conference followed by a chat show.

He presses his lips softly against yours, as much to relish the experience as to avoid smudging the neutral shade you’ve just swiftly but adeptly applied. His strong hands rest around your waist as he makes no move to leave the room.

He asks you again, like he always does.

“Come with me. Take my hand, walk out there with me. I want the world to know what we have.”

Saying his name, you reply, “You know I can’t.”

He responds, “I know, I know. I just- I have to keep asking, y’know? Just in case one day you actually say yes.”

You move a stray hair from his temple, adding a little more wax to keep it in place, and dab a tiny amount more of the perfectly-chosen shade of powder on the slight shiny glow he now has on his nose and the apples of his cheeks.

You glance at your own reflection in the mirror, all dishevelled hair and smeared makeup, mostly from when his hand was gripping your head as he thrust various parts of himself into your mouth just minutes ago. You’re not exactly a great advert for your own services right now, used to being the one behind the lens, never in front of it.

You wonder whether you’ll ever be able to do that. Do you ever want to be known as “the person on his arm”? Embrace the risk of getting taken apart in the press, eviscerated by his fans? Possibly even losing your job if your bosses start to see you as a liability.

A heaviness settles in your chest. A part of you wants nothing more than to be with him, for real and forever. Fuck your job, perhaps it would be better for your career anyway? You could be your own boss, take on exclusive clients who know your reputation, and let him support and take care of you the rest of the time like he keeps saying he will.

Maybe one day. But not today. That’s too big a decision to be made in an (albeit spacious, VIP) airport bathroom as you stuff your supplies back into their travel case and you both look each other over for any evidence of your most recent tryst.

Eyes downcast, he opens the door, pausing at the threshold to look back and up at you, chewing a little on the inside of his cheek.

“’Til next time?”

“Yeah, ’til next time.”

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this.

Do let me know whether this works, and who you chose 😃

Please do comment and reblog. It means the absolute and literal world to writers, and is the best way for stories to get seen!

Let me know if you’d like to join my taglist! 💙

My masterlist

Tags: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict

@indulgence-be-thy-name I would LOVE to know if you think this works for Joe (in the words of that terrifying character from Bullet Train, ‘be honest’ 💓)

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie x gn!reader #joseph quinn #Joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn smut #Joseph quinn x gn!reader #Joseph quinn fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harringon smut #Joe keery x reader #heath ledger #heath ledger x reader #heath ledger smut #elliot page #Elliot page x reader #Elliot page smut #gn!reader #smut #makeup artist!reader #Elliot page x gn!reader #stranger things #possible RPF #stranger things ficlet

[tvzbell]

Concept

Yeah I’ll be honest, I probably won’t work on this again, so I might as well share a little wip of it I did in like 10 minutes. Just in case it never sees the light of day again.

#roblox regretevator #bive #i love bive #bive regretevator #regretevator bive #roblox #regretevator art #bive fanart #regretevator fanart #roblox art #regretavator #regretevator #animation #animated #art wip #animation wip #concept animation #folly #regretevator folly #folly fanart #dream parasite #folly regretevator #regretevator dream parasite

[lenaariewrld]

C.14 — formal dinners (w)

ON THE AIR — childe x reader smau

| SYNOPSIS;; Teyvat University’s popular radio personality, Y/n L/n, has only one gripe with her life. Her classmate, neighbour, and all-around nuisance in her life, Tartaglia. Their rivalry extends just past academics and, to her horror, into her work. He becomes the music director and co-host for her radio show, working alongside her most nights and forcing himself even deeper into her life. But is he really trying to just be friends, or is there an ulterior motive to his actions?

| WC: 3.6k

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The giggles and laughter of your group reverberated through the restaurant as you all settled into your chairs around the table, a semi-private location that Childe had arranged for days prior to this. The conversation flowed nicely as you all breezed through the far too decadent appetizers and sipped on your drinks. You found it easier to just sit back and relax, enjoying yourself, than you’d previously thought. Ganyu sat across from you, with Keqing to your right and Childe to your left. Cyno sat across from the other man, and the seat next to Ganyu was left open. You had invited Diluc along too in case he was free, but he never responded. A part of you was unsure if you wanted him to show up. You couldn’t place why.

You all shared stories about your trips on breaks, funny things that happened while you’d been attending the university, or even memorable times you’d shared with each other. Ganyu recalled the first trip she’d taken on vacation, one you’d invited her on and had planned for her. Keqing shared her own stories about interesting things she’d learned while assisting her professors through the years, and you and Cyno had your own fun stories to share about parties or crazy nights you’d had. Childe shared a funny story about when he’d first moved here and the miscommunications he’d had with an unfortunate grocery store clerk when he was trying to get some specific ingredient for food.

The dinner was delicious, and a relaxing time for you and your friends, splitting off into separate conversations on occasion. You and Childe even fell into your own little world, the two of you bantering and chatting casually. Nicely. It was probably the least stressful interaction you’d had with the ginger man in years.

As the night wore on and the time leaned later in the evening, the conversations naturally turned to what everyone at the table wanted to do after graduating. In a perfect world, what jobs they’d pursue and careers they’d lead.

Cyno went first, explaining he wanted to be a lawyer or a judge. That he wanted to help judge cases based not only on fairness, but on the circumstances and would would best help a situation resolve. Keqing spoke up next. She wanted to work for the Qixing, a multi-million-dollar commerce company and the most influential conglomerate corporation in the nation. You joked that if she ever got the job, she should be your sugar mommy and expand the company into the entertainment industry to give you your own show. “I’ll think about it,” She joked, nudging your arm with a slight quirk of her lips. Ganyu then admitted she didn’t have a lot of aspirations, and that she’d be perfectly happy as an accountant or an administrative assistant, something with responsibility but not as a leader, where she could make good money and live a relatively calm life. You respected her honesty about it.

When it was unofficially your turn, you told everyone that, unsurprisingly, you wanted to write interesting stories. That you wanted to not only be able to give an escape for people who were as stressed and busy as you found yourself in school and in work, but also to highlight other people’s stories. You wanted to do something impactful, and writing or speaking was how you did that. Whether you ended up being a journalist or not, you didn’t care, so long as you got to accomplish that goal.

Then Childe shared his wishes. He wanted to be a musician, to either be a soloist or lead his own band and express himself (and potentially the others in his band) through music. He wanted to let out everything he couldn’t normally or shouldn’t. Music was the one thing he could communicate in, without fail. Language barrier or not.

Everyone hummed thoughtfully, falling silent around the table and taking a minute to let the topic settle in their minds. Cyno clapped his hands together after a minute. “Okay, well–” He chuckled and brought up a story about some of his teachers and the classmates he’d witnessed doing dumb stuff.

Just like that, the dinner continued as normal. The drinks refilled before you even realise they’ve fallen low, and the plates of food switched out as soon as you’d had your fill.

Once everyone was finished and Childe had paid for the extravagant meal, you all collected your things and headed back to the cars you’d arrived in. You and Ganyu linked arms as youn walked together, your steps far bouncier than hers.

“Oooo, we should go dancing!” You exclaim suddenly, twirling on your feet to face the others as you said this. Your eyes sparkle with excitement. Maybe those glasses of wine were hitting you.

“Y/nnie, maybe we should–”

“Good idea!” Cyno tacks on before Keqing can finish her protest. “We should make a night out of it! “ His voice came out sort of squeaky as he jostled your shoulders playfully, causing you to giggle. Keqing sighs, shaking her head, though you can spot the smile trying to split on her face. She relents eventually, ushering your group towards her car. You cheer and throw your arms around Cyno and Ganyu’s shoulders.

You all pile into the car and debate which club to go to, eventually giving Keqing a name. She drives you all there and your group makes it inside unscathed and without too much fuss. Before anything else, your group trails towards a booth. Keqing and Ganyu make themselves comfortable– with Ganyu graciously agreeing to hold onto your purse– while you, Childe and Cyno head to the bar for a round of shots.

After clinking your glasses and downing the shots, you order a few drinks to sip on before rejoining your friends. You slide into the booth with Keqing and Childe, while Cyno slides in next to Ganyu. You mainly stay silent, waiting for a song you like to start playing before you get up, nursing your martini, while the others have their own conversations.

When a song you recognise starts, you gasp excitedly. Your white-haired friend recognises the song too, and without prompting, grabs your hand to pull you onto the dance floor. The both of you start singing along, your hands intertwined.

It was lively and close as you push further into the throng of dancing people. The both of you throw your arms up or around each other. You keep giggling as you serenade the man, keeping close to Cyno. The rest of the dancing crowd melts away as the fuzz in your brain makes itself a home, your body feeling a current of energy coursing through your veins. Your both disconnected and hyper-aware of your body.

Time seems to become meaningless in this crowd as you dance, only the sure beats of the songs and the feeling of Cyno’s hands on your arms or shoulders keeping you aware of any change around you. You knew you were a more provocative person when you were drunk (not that you intended to, it just happened to loosen you up enough for you to be comfortable), but you didn’t mind in moments like this. In times when the energy was matching the constant thrum in your head. It helped, in fact, especially when you were around people you trusted, grinding and dancing with Cyno with near reckless abandon.

You were both lost in the moment, claiming the lights for your own and having your main character moment. Your hips, your arms, your hands traveled wherever, chasing the feeling of careless dancing that the entire crowd also claimed for themselves.

You were having the time of your life, not even recognizing the songs any more, just vibing to whatever played and the vibes of the club. That is, until you twirl around and effectively lose your friend in the throng of jumping bodies, your hands having left Cyno’s sometime during the spinning. You stumble a little bit as you come to a stop. You look around.

Wasn’t he just here? He was behind you, right? Or on your left?

Turning your head every direction does little to help you see over all off the people jumping and dancing in order to spot your friend, even with how bright his hair looked in the club lights. Your heart starts to hammer in your chest, the ecstatic energy turning sour with worry. You feel a hand on your upper arm and turn quickly to face the owner, hoping its Cyno.

A strange man you’ve never met smiles at you, already too close for comfort in this crowd. “You doing okay, little lady?” He asks, his voice dropped to a husky whisper as his hand trails up to your shoulder.

You scowl and push his hand away. “‘M fine,”

“Aw don’t be like that~ I just want to dance,” He coos, pouting obnoxiously, his voice a condescending tone. He’s really not going to leave you alone. “I can be your dance partner–”

“She already has one,” A new voice speaks from behind you, but you recognize this one. Childe slides up to you casually (when did he even get here?) and stares down the man. You can only turn your head to stare at him in confusion, a strange feeling burrowing into your stomach as he places his hand on your lower back. A light touch, easy enough to shake off once the creep disappeared, but high enough to make him see.

The man scoffs, “She can speak for herself, can’t she?” He defends, clearly not getting the hint. You roll your eyes, shaking out of whatever silence had overcome you and grabbing Childe’s hand.

“Like he said, I already have a partner,” You lift your intertwined fingers and pull Childe with you deeper into the crowd. Only, you don’t stop, crossing the floor as you try to find the edge of the dance floor, far away from the creep. You’re no longer interested in the fun of the crowd and pulsating bass line, wanting to find your friend. As soon as the two of you escape the pulsating wall of dancing bodies, you let go of the ginger’s hand.

Where were you headed? You aren’t sure. You don’t realise Childe is still following behind you until he gently takes hold of your wrist and stops you. You look around. You were trying to find Ganyu and Keqing again, to regroup at their table, but… this is a hallway, not the table. And, pointedly, it’s on the second floor of the club, a railing on one side opening up to reveal the dance floor and more of the first floor below.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Childe asks, his voice quieter now that the music isn’t blasting in your ears. The sound is slightly muffled now, but you can still feel the bass under your feet.

“I’m drunk,” You admit. “But I didn’t need you to save me, or to follow me,” You take a deep breath, collecting yourself. Childe sighs.

“Well, I’m not leaving you alone here,” He says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why not? I can handle myself,”

“Oh, you were really handling yourself back there with that guy. I’m sure your sarcasm was a real deterrent when you actually spoke up,” He sounds exasperated, raising his brows at you. You roll your eyes.

“Well, I would’ve if you’d not stepped in,”

He scoffs, throwing his arms up. “Why are you so stubborn? I was trying to help you?”

“I didn’t ask you to!” You step closer to him, pressing your finger against his chest. “I’m not some damsel in distress, and you don’t need to come to my aid!” You seethe, unsure why you’re even this frustrated. Your head was swimming, and you were frustrated. You lost track of Cyno and you hadn’t even been able to pull yourself together to reject that guy. Even worse, you felt relieved when Childe had come up behind you, had felt a warmth in your chest, a bubbling fire when his hand had found your back. You didn’t like that feeling.

“I’m not going to look the other way while someone makes you uncomfortable, Y/n, is that so hard to believe?” The man’s voice brings you back to the conversation and you huff at his words, your lips pursing slightly.

“Why?”

He blinks, his head tilting to the side just slightly. It reminds you of a puppy, and for a brief second you understand the charm or his looks, and why so many girls fawned over him. “What do you mean? You’re…” He clears his throat, looking away from you. “You’re my friend,” He admits.

You find yourself lost for words for a second, the both of you staring at each other as his words settled in. It wasn’t hard to believe, necessarily. You’d been working together for a few months now, and had been setting aside your rivalry and amending it for the past three weeks now. As much as you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, you’d been softened to him, and he had definitely softened to you. But the way he says it, and the way it settles in your mind through the haze of your drunken state makes you feel like there’s something more to it.

You’re still staring at his face, your eyes glancing over all of his features, and your hand still pointing at his chest, the contact buzzing on your skin. You smooth your hand against his shirt and a thought pops into your mind. One you would normally never have or would push aside as soon as it came up. That is, if you weren’t drunk right now.

“Y/n?” Childe spoke up quietly, a half-question in his tone as he reached up and brushed some hair away from your eyes. You leaned forward into his touch, your body moving on its own without your brain’s interference.

“I want to kiss you,” You told him, your other hand coming up to hold the collar of his jacket. Where you got the boldness to speak your mind all of a sudden, you aren’t sure (it’s got to be the warm liquor, you think) but you don’t mind when the man lifts his brows slightly and lets out a soft chuckle.

And you don’t mind when he leans down and kisses you, capturing your lips with his quickly. Greedily, you meet his lips to kiss him back. And you taste the vodka he’d drank earlier on his tongue, the saccharine of the dessert he’d eaten at dinner making you drunk all over again. You feel heady, desperate even as you pull on his collar and drag him closer, your lips slotting against his as you exchange breaths.

His hands come up to cup the back of your head, deepening the kiss as he dips his tongue into the kiss. It’s needy and messy and you lose any bearings on where you are, gasping as the cold of the wall melts through the material of your dress. Another breathy gasp escapes you as Childe presses himself closer, pulling your thighs against his hips. His kisses meet your heated skin, goosebumps raising where the cool air hits you once he’s done his task. The air around you both seems to send sparks across your nerves, your body arching against his. You feel even more breathless than before, your head spinning with every second that passes.

Childe kisses you with a need and a desire you had never experienced before, the groans he lets our vibrating on your skin, dripping into your chest and curling in your stomach. Your heart pounds. You can’t get enough of this, tugging on his hair as another shiver runs down your spine. “Fuh-ck,” His voice cracks slightly as he kisses up your jaw, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. “So fuckin’ annoying, so pretty,” He’s mumbling and you’re not sure if it’s for you or himself but you couldn’t really care as you grip his shoulders, your lips parted with heavy pants.

It’s like you’re becoming intoxicated all over again, the sensations more than anything you’ve ever felt before. Electrified. You turn your head and cup Childe’s cheek, meeting his lips in another kiss, too lost to care about the clack of his teeth against yours. You recover as he straightens slightly, a soft whine in his throat when you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth. You could get lost in this forever, could stay in this moment until the sun rises and your deeds were laid bare for you to witness.

Well, you could, that is until you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket, vibrating insistently against your hip. You recognize the ringtone– though it takes you a second to do so –as Ganyu’s contact. The chiming cuts through your haze instantly. “Shit,” You blink rapidly to clear your head as you fish around for the device, both your feet meeting the ground again as Childe lets your thigh go. You lean back against the wall, the both of you snapping out of the moment. Childe steps back, turning his head away from you, his ears a bright burning red that you can make out even in the low lighting.

Your own cheeks feel like they’re burning through, your head leaning back on the wall when you answer the call. As soon as the phone is against your ear, you hear Ganyu asking a million questions. “Where are you?? Cyno, Ke, and I have been looking for you for, like, thirty minutes!” She sounds both worried and relieved that you answered.

You cringe internally. “I’m sorry,” You unhale sharply, trying not to sound too out of breath. “I-uh..” You glance towards the red-haired man, who was running his hands over his face now, still turning away from you out of respect. “I got lost and.. I was looking for you guys, but I found Childe,” You tell her. The phone call continues for a minute or so more, ending with you promising to find her again. As soon as you tuck the device back into your pocket, you turn back to Childe. “I guess it’s time to.. Head home,” You tell him, clearing your throat and gesturing towards the direction the two of you had initially come from.

Before you walk off, though, he stops you and fixes the straps on your dress wordlessly. “Here…” he mumbles, fixing any of the mess-ups in your hair. You giggle softly, reaching up and swiping your smudged lipstick off of the corner of his mouth. Once the both of you are sufficiently cleaned up and unsuspecting, you head out.

It takes a couple more minutes of searching before you find and regroup with everyone, relief flooding your system again when they all greet you, not making any comments about you or Childe’s appearances. Cyno pretends to sob and hangs off of your frame. “I’m sorryyyyyy,” He dramatically wails, his head on your shoulder. A giggle escapes you again as you weaved your arms underneath his, rocking back and forth with the white-haired man. “It’s okay,” You soothe in just as playful tone as he was using. You then look to Keqing and Ganyu, filling them in on what happened. You pointedly leave out the details of your argument turned… whatever the hell that was with Childe, clearing your throat when you get to that part.

“I took her upstairs to see if we could spot you guys from there,” Childe steps in, easily covering up your quietness. He seemed to be even less eager to share what you two had got up to, his voice quiet and his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks. Keqing hums, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, you’re all sobering up and then we’re leaving,” She declares, sitting all of you down at the booth. She briefly departs before returning with waters, helping Cyno to sit up from where he was previously laying on your lap.

“I really am sorry for wandering off,” You tell her quietly, leaning your head against her shoulder. She pets the top of your head, holding your glass as you take a sip of the water.

“It’s okay,” She shrugs.

After sobering up a little more and enjoying some friendly conversation, mostly between the other two girls and Childe, Keqing leaves again to settle the tab. Childe kindly hands over his card for her to use, helping you and Cyno up out of the booth. Your white-haired friend seemed to get incredibly sleepy once everyone was together again, though he was able to hold himself up well with the two of you walking with him. You held his hand.

Your group then leaves and piles into the car. You slide into the back seat with the two men, sitting in between both of them. Ganyu and Keqing sit up front, talking quietly between them. Meanwhile, the three of you remain quiet in your drunken states, letting the night come to a quiet end for now. Your mind is still racing, and your heart is beating harshly, like you’re worried that your friends would be able to read your mind and see everything that happened.

Childe seems fine as the car starts, the slight bumpiness of the road doing little to jostle him as he sits upright, looking out the window with a glazed look in his eyes. You and Cyno lean against each other for support, practically cuddling as you fight to stay awake in the back seat. Cyno hums to the music Keqing has playing on the radio, his head resting on top of yours.

And somewhere, in your dozed and half-aware state, you find Childe’s hand, your pointer and middle finger hooked around his in the darkness of the back seat…

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A/Ns: ehehehehe >:) likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated, and don't forget to stay hydrated <33

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