#I’ve seen people draw him with no shirt before and I’m like

[anna-undaunted]

Foaly my beloved

#fr I love him #my art #art #fanart #artemis fowl #artemis fowl books #foaly #artemis fowl fanart #I’ve seen people draw him with no shirt before and I’m like #who do you think he is #and do you seriously think the lep would let him hang out naked in police plaza

[polakina]

you can handle it

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

rating: explicit

outline: on a mission to realign a disturbance, you start pushing Miguel's buttons, until something you say somethig that you didn't expect him to like, opening up a whole new avenue for you

warnings: cursing, fluff, smut, sub Miguel, outdoor sex, rough sex, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, begging, teasing, handjobs, choking

requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3

masterlist

II

You walked into the society, passing familiar faces as you went. Miles liked to call it the “clubhouse”, which you found rather entertaining, but it didn’t appeal to some as much. The leader of the society, Miguel, was one of these few who did not approve of Miles’ little clubhouse joke. The man could barely stand to be around him even on his good days. Which were rare. So very rare.

“Hey! Hey, yo, wait up.” You heard in the distance from behind you. Turning on your heel, you saw two figures in the distance jogging towards you. Hobie and Pav raced alongside one another to you. Reaching you, Pav hunched over, hands on his knees.

“Just gotta…jeez, I’m out of breath,” Pav wheezed, head facing the floor. You and Hobie looked to one another in amusement before looking at him.

“Man, come on. I’ve seen you swing through cities without getting out of breath,” Hobie chuckled.

“Old age getting to you early there, Pav?” You chuckled lightly, patting him on the back. “What are you guys running around here for anyway?” Pav rose up, standing straight. 

He pointed down the hall to your right, not where you were heading at all. “Miguel’s looking for you. Something about a disruption. He needs you. Now.” 

-

You were in the room before even Peter could sense your approach. His head spun like a spinning top, eyes wide. “Jesus,” he said, shock painting his face as he placed his hand over his heart. 

You rolled your eyes, “Calm down, Peter. You act as though I’m a bull barreling through the building.”

“With the speed you came through those doors, you might as well have been. What are you doing here?”

“She’s here for me.” Miguel’s voice came through the darkness of the room, loud and clear. He stepped up from the desk, walking over to the two of you. Well, three of you if you counted Mayday on Peter’s lap. Peter looked over to Miguel as he walked up to you both, stopping just before to table Peter was sat before. “We’ve got a job to do. I’ll brief you on the way.”

You rolled your eyes. “Always so serious, Miguel.”

“The safety of our universe isn’t serious?” He asked cocking an eyebrow.

“Of course it is!” Peter exclaimed standing, with Mayday curled in one arm, the other patting Miguel on the shoulder. “But you could at least look a little but happy when you say it. Maybe smile a little?”

Miguel just cast a very unhappy smile in Peter’s direction, rolling his eyes. “I don’t do smiling.”

You smirked. “Because he knows he’d look cute if he did.” Peter and Miguel both looked at you. Peter, with surprise, and Miguel with a rather blank stare, but his eyes lit up ever so slightly. “What? You saying that I’m wrong?” Nobody responded. “Fine,” you huffed. “Let’s get this done.”

-

It wasn’t a large, difficult task. Just a rogue spider diverting from her chosen path. Surely Miguel didn’t need you for this as well, it was certainly something he could have handled alone. 

You turned to look at him. He wore a simple jacket with a longsleeved black shirt underneath, as to not draw suspicion. You opted for a hoodie and black pants. Your suit remained on your body beneath, just in case. To anyone else, you were two normal people taking a stroll through New York, not two spiders on a job. 

“Miguel, why am I here?” You asked, cocking your head to the side, watching him turn to look at you, a blank stare on his face.

“We’re on a job,” he replied rather coolly, looking away curtly.

“You’re telling me you couldn’t handle this along? Not sure you could take her on all alone?” You teased, trying to push his buttons a little. It was fun, doing this. Teasing him and annoying him. Peter always warned you not to, for fear he’d snap at you. But he never had. He just tolerated it.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Aw, so you wanted some company?” You smiled up at him, walking in front of him so he had to look at you. “And of course, I’m the best company you could think of. That’s adorable, Miguel.”

His heart skipped a beat as he cast a glance down at you. “Clearly, you overestimate our friendship,” he mumbled, almost a whisper. 

“But it is a friendship we share, no?” You asked, raking your finger down his chest. You felt his heartbeat quicken under your touch. Oh, this was fun. He was quick to look away, blinking a few times. He was…at a loss for words, to be honest. He couldn’t look at you right now. Not until his heart had calmed and his thoughts of you had left his mind. Until your touch didn’t linger and your words didn’t stick to him like glue. 

“Let’s finish this job,” he said, looking out ot the street in search of the rogue spider. “Then we never need to talk about what we share, or what we don’t.” He then walked past you, and you followed. What you didn’t share? What was that supposed to mean?

-

It was simple as anything could be. The rogue spider had let spare a few men who were caught in the crossfire of an outbreak downtown. She had a bad sense about them, but since they had not committed anything violent or dangerous, she saw no reason to bring them to justice. They claimed to be mere witnesses to the disaster, but they had lied. They were the men behind it all, selling out their own men to save their own backs. They had to be brought to justice or they risked derailing the tire canon timeline.

It wasn’t hard. The spider seemed nervous at first, her defences up and her trust wavered and thin. But she eventually understood, capturing the men with yours and Miguel’s help and binding them to the front door of the police station to be picked up at sunrise.

The sun began to rise over the tallest buildings in the city, setting a bright illuminating glow over the streets, over the park, over the people. You sat on a billboard watching it rise, your eyes lighting up in its amber embrace.

“Ready to go?” Miguel asked from where he stood on the rooftop above you. You glanced up from where he loomed over you. 

“In a minute,” you called back to him. “I never get to enjoy this.” You looked back towards the sky, sensing as Miguel made his way to you, sitting beside you. 

“We need to go back. Too long here could fracture-”

“Fracture the timeline. I’m well aware, O’Hara,” you finished for him. You sighed, closing your eyes. “Can I not just have five minutes to enjoy this? Or are you too stubborn to let me have anything nice?”

He huffed a laugh. “You don’t need my permission for that.”

“I didn’t realise I needed your permission for anything,” you joked, nudging his arm with your shoulder. “After all, we both know who’s in charge around here.” He tensed up as he felt your touch. But it softened almost immediately when you leaned into him. 

“Oh, you’re in charge, huh? That’s new,” Miguel retorted, but you could hear a small smile in his voice.

You smiled back, standing up and balancing yourself atop the large billboard. “Of course. You think I’m not? Oh please, you’d follow my orders around like a little puppy if I wanted you to.” His heart jumped at that, but he suppressed it before he let it reach his face. 

“You’re delusional.”

“Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that, big boy.” You fell backwards off the billboard and Miguel leaned over with fear glossing over his eyes as you tumbled towards the ground. You let your arms fan out as your body hurtled down, head first, wind whistling in your ears. It felt so freeing, free falling to the ground. Swinging almost felt like flying at times. It was such an incredible experience for you, every time. 

You fired a web to a nearby building, catching it on a balcony railing, sending you soaring back into the air. Miguel watched you fly through the sky, completely in awe by how you moved. So angelic. So free. He knew this game. You played it all the time with Hobie and Pav. A game of chase. Something you did to pass the time when you were bored.

So he joined you. Jumping off the billboard and swinging through the empty steet towards you. You smiled as you looked back to see him catch up. “Having fun, O’Hara?” You called out as he matched your speed, swinging alongside you.

“You call this fun?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“There’s a lot of things I call fun, honey. This is just a tame type of fun I like to have,” you winked, soaring through the air. He chased you through the air. Always reaching you just out of time, his fingertips grazing your skin just the second you swung out of his reach. Now he understood why Hobie was always annoyed after these games. He could never catch you. 

So he took a different approach, heading right down past a tower of apartments, out of your view. You looked back, grinning when you didn’t see him. You’d lost him. You didn’t look back in time to see him flying towards you on your right. He’d rounded the apartment buildings to gain more momentum, more speed. It had worked.his arm caught around your waist, throwing you off guard as he pinned you to the wall at the top of a large tower of more apartments. His legs caged your waist as his knees dug into the rough brick wall. A neon orange spider web entrailed from his wrist and stretched out to the lip of the building just above to two of you, keeping him suspended, his arm around your waist holding you steady so you didn’t fall. 

“You caught me,” you smiled cunningly. 

“I did,” he breathed shakily. He’d never really been this close to you. Your perfume filling his nostrils with pale tones of lavender and vanilla. Your eyes piercing deep into his, a hint of mischief and control lurking amongst your dark irises.

You smiled. You could see he was a little nervous being this close. He often kept a distance from you whenever he could. Before, you assumed it was because he found you boorish, annoying. Which you usually were around him, for the fun of it. But not now. Now you realised why he really stayed distant all this time. You could see it in his eyes. What he wanted. What he needed. From you. For you. It was all about you. “Then perhaps,” you leaned closer, your breath tickling his ear until he shuddered. “You deserve a reward?” You sent your own web flying above you, landing just besides Miguel’s, hoisting you up so that you could snake your legs over the top of his, wrapping your ankles around his waist and pulling him flush against your body.

Miguel’s eyes went wild, pupils dilating and cheeks flushing red. “I…um-”

“Cat got your tongue, O’Hara?” You smirked, releasing your web so your weight rested fully on his strong thighs. “Usually you always have something to say. What, so you don’t want your reward? Hmm?”

His head whipped back to you, eyes wide. “No, I…” he mumbled something after that. You knew exactly what he said. But you needed to hear it properly. Louder. Loud enough so he, himself, would believe what he was saying.

“Come on,” you tipped his head a little higher so his eyes met yours, your figner under his chin. “Speak your words. Say it a little louder for me.” You were practically whispering at this point, and as much as Miguel wanted to match your volume, he knew this would lead nowhere if he did.

“I want a reward,” he spoke, more confidence in his voice. His hand rested on your lower back, rubbing small circles into your skin beneath your clothing. “As long as it’s you.”

You smiled. Not wickedly. Not mischieviously. Genuinely. There it was. The confirmation you had been waiting for. “Well, that’s up to me to decide, isn’t it?”

He nodded. Almost immediately. You always had an inkling that if this were to ever happen, you would be the one to seek the control. But to see it now, in person…it felt all too real and all too perfect. “I want you to decide. Please,” he breathed, his tone begging for you. His eyes portraying a particular need for you.

“So you’re going to listen? Obey what I say. Do what I ask?” With every question he answered with a nod. You gripped his jaw gently, forcing him to make eye contact with you. “Either you use your words, or I’m not doing anything, Miguel.”

That was the last thign he wanted. You could see it in his face. “Yes,” he blurted out. “I’ll listen to you. I promise.”

“Good boy,” you smiled. You felt the way his heart sped up with his pulse right under your hand. You felt the way his dick twitched as you said those words. He liked it. A lot. 

Your hands drifted downwards, down his stomach to the belt on his pants. It surprised him, causing the two of you to drop a few inches from the web suspension slacking. 

“Keep holding on, puppy. Or else we’ll fall.”

“But-I…here? We’re on top of a building,” he said, looking around before back at you. 

“And? I always thought you found danger rather thrilling?” You cocked your head to the side, your hands still working on undoing his belt. “Would you prefer somewhere quieter? More private?” You leaned forward, kissing his cheek, then his jaw, then eventually his neck. “I always found being out in the open made it all the more exciting.”

He nodded, his head tilting back, giving you more access. Below, you had already pulled his belt apart, unzipping his pants and slid your hand inside. He gasped when your bare hand came into contact with his cock. You wrapped your hand around it, your fingers barely touching one another as you slid it down to the base of his cock and back up to the tip. Pre cum had already begun leaking out, gliding down your hands, lubricating his dick so you didn’t have to. 

Miguel’s breathing grew heavy, desperate as you touched him. It made him feel unlike any way he had before. It felt heavenly. You leaned back, taking in the features on his face, how his eyes squeezed together, how his mouth fell agape, small whines of pleasure falling from his lips. “You’re doing so good, baby,” you cooed, loving the way his dick twitched once again at your words. His hand wrapped around your back further, gripping your waist tightly, his knuckles paleing with the force of grip. 

“Please…ple-please,” his words sped up with the rhythm of your hand pumping his cock. You knew he was nearing a high, a rush. He needed it. It had been so long. And fuck, you wanted to give it to him. 

“Please, what? What do you want so badly that you feel the need to beg me for it?” Your tone changed. It was calm. Demanding. No room for negotiation.  

“I want you to let me fuck you. Please.” His eyes were so pleading. So desperate. His hips began to raise to meet your rhythm, your body bouncing as he did. You allowed it. You knew how much he needed it. Besides, it wasn’t like he was taking any control by doing so. He knew you clearly still had all the power here.

“Of course, baby,” you smiled. You couldn’t deny that this certain submission from Miguel made you feel a certain type of way. You could feel it all through your body. Mainly in your pants. But it radiated everywhere.

Miguel, shortened his web, pulling the two of you back up to the buildings roof. You sat atop it, spreading your legs as Miguel remained suspended between them. He looked up at you, eyes wide and waiting for your next order. You lifted a leg, placing your ankle on his shoulder and pulling him towards you, his chin resting just above your stomach. “Can I?”

You nodded your head, and Miguel approached, hesitant but needy. He pulled your pants from your body, your clothes collecting in a pile on the roof beside you. He was nervous at first. It showed in his movements. Soft, gentle licks up your slit, tender against your clit. His hands tentatively wrapped around your thighs, his face buried between them. He was holding back. He wanted to do more. He knew he could. But he wanted to be good. For you. “Miguel,” you called out, squeezing your thighs around his head to get his attention. He looked up at you with soft brown, doe eyes. “I know that that’s not all you got. Come on, puppy.”

He became more forceful with it, gradually. His sole intent being you. Pleasuring you. Pleasing you. His fingers gripped your thighs tighter, his tongue delving deep inside you. Your head fell back, your hand tangled in his hair. “Fuck, that’s it,” you guided. “Just like that, honey.” The flicks of his tongue moved faster, his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking and nibbling to make you squirm. Your hand kept his head in the perfect position, your grasp tightening until it was almost painful. But he didn’t care. 

Miguel slipped his hand under you, between your thighs, teasing at your pussy with his finger. His eyes gazed up at you, waiting for a confirmation. For a yes. For anything. You met his eye, your chest heaving. “Well, go on then, guapo.” He wasted no time, pushing one finger in, then two, easing them in so easily with your wetness. You gasped, caging his head between your thighs. 

His fingers sped up inside you, drawing you to a closer high with every passing second. He could feel it too. He needed you to come. God, he wanted it so badly. Your body slid closer to the edge, but you didn’t even notice and neither did he. Not until you both slipped slightly off the edge, and Miguel caught you around the waist before you could fall from his grip. “May have gotten a little too excited there…” Miguel admitted, heat flushing his cheeks.

“Not a problem, chulo,” you smiled, patting his cheek. “But if you think that’s going to stop us, then you’re sorely mistaken.” you shifted in his lap, positioning his cock at your soaked pussy. Miguel shivered as you pushed the tip inside you, his body tensing and his mind racing. Miguel braced himself against the tough brick layed wall, hand on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist. You let out a sigh as you sank down inot his cock, until he was fully sheathed inside you. 

Looking to Miguel, you saw his face contort, his teeth grit, his eyes squeeze shut. “Calmate, Miguel. Just relax, amor,” you purred, a slight accent springing out as your tongue rolled the syllables. It had been a while for him. For you too. You both needed this so badly. Fuck, you’d been thinking about this for a long time. 

Miguel groaned as he began moving his hips, his cock rolling in and out of you at a slow, steady pace. His cock hit deep inside you, low moans all you could muster. “Just like that, Miguel. Don’t stop.” He didn’t. He thrust his cock inside you deeply, harder and harder until it was overwhelming him. But it felt so good he didn’t want to stop. You felt so good around his dick, so fucking good. 

You could see it in face that he was struggling to keep calm. The sensation was too much for him. But he could take it. “Miguel, look at me,” your hand wrapped around his throat. Not putting any pressure on. Just holding it. But it snapped his attention to you immediately. “You’re doing so good for me, honey. You can hold on a little longer,” you breathed. Even you were struggling to keep composure right now. “Now come on, baby. You do want to make me feel good, don’t you?” He nodded profusely. You turned his head to the side, his pulse beating so fast beneath your touch. You leaned in close to his ear. “So fuck me then. You can handle it.”

You leaned back, retracting your fingers from his neck, until his free hand came up to grab yours. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you almost said something until he brought your hand back around his throat. “Hold it there. Please.”

“Oh?” You smiled. “So that’s what you like, hmm? I guess we’re going to start figuring out everything that you like then, aren’t we? Now be a good boy for me.”

He fucked up into you, your back scraping across the harsh wall behind you. But you didn’t care if it scratched your back to shit. It was all worth it. Your grip around his throat tightened, Miguel’s head getting lighter, but it brought on a whole new high for him. He lost all control, thrusting faster and faster. You held onto him, head resting against his shoulder as your climax inched closer and closer. “Can’t go-fuck-much longer. Please.” Miguel gritted his teeth, panting heavily.

“Baby,” you purred, kissing his shoulder and leaning up to look at him. “You know the rules. You want to come? Then you can make me come too, yeah?”

“I wanna make you come. So bad.”

“Then do it,” your grip around his throat tightened and he left out a soft moan, holding your waist tighter until his fingerprints practically burned into your skin. “Make me come. Or you get nothing else tonight.”

You were both so close. Your legs tightened around him, crushing his waist as you felt pleasure crash over you. You held Miguel close, moaning his own name into his ear as you came, flooding his cock with your release, soaking him in your juices. You clung to him, digging your nails into his skin.

He followed close behind, groaning as he came inside you, coating your walls in white and letting his whole body relax against you. 

You both stayed that way for a moment, breathing heavily. The brick wall had become a comfort to your spine, basically crumbled to a shape befitting your body. “You did good, guapo,” you chuckled, kissing him softly. Miguel melted into the kiss, his hand on your back, pulling you close. It was soft. Tender. Everything he thought it would be. You pulled away for air, looking at him with gentle eyes. “But next time,” you pulled him closer by his throat, inches from his face. “You don’t come until I say you can. Got it, baby?”

“Next time?” There was a little excitement in his tone.

You smiled, tapping the side of his neck. “Oh, you thought I was done with you? Adorable.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel ohara x reader #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv miguel #smut #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut

[lipglossanon]

December Winds

.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜

Priest!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

dedicated to you 💀 anon! 💜 I hope you like it!

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, religious connotations, Leon POV, dirty talk, nipple teasing, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (m receiving 🫣), unprotected sex, creampie, kissing, biting, slight blood

kinda beta read by my friend Rex 💜 (only like 80% so any mistakes are my own 😅 )

title from December Winds by Nox Arcana

.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜

After Spain, Leon quits. As he tells the president, “I’ve seen enough.” And he meant it. He packs up everything, quietly bids goodbye to the few coworkers he respects and leaves out from Washington DC, praying he’ll never see the place again. 

He searches for a job that’s a little less stressful and a lot more reclusive. He stumbles across an online ad looking for a live-in priest for a small rundown chapel buried in the middle of the Appalachian mountains. A quick search on google maps yields the exact results he’s hoping for—there’s nothing around for miles and miles. 

It’s a cinch to get ordained online and even easier to order the cassock and Roman collar. He already has plenty of black shirts, pants, and even shoes, meaning it’s no sweat at all for him to look the part by the end of the week. 

When he arrives at the small church, there’s a handful of elderly people gathered to give him a short walk through the place. They leave him with plenty of homemade food as well as their phone numbers for the cracked rotary phone in the office in case he needs any help.

The months roll by and slowly bleeds into a couple of years. He always sees the same handful of people at service, sometimes joined by visiting family members, but always a small congregation which is what he prefers. This year hasn’t been any different, that is until a knock rings out in the empty vestibule drawing him up short as he lays out pamphlets for next week's Christmas service. 

Pulling open the heavy oak doors, he’s surprised to see a new face. You stand there shivering in the cold, jacketed arms clutching your middle. 

“H-hi,” you give him a bright smile despite your chattering teeth, “m-my car’s s-s-stuck in the s-snow and—“

Before you can finish, Leon’s opening the door wider, feeling chill bumps race across his arms as the cold winter air gusts past you and into the church. 

“Please, come in,” he steps back so you’ll follow. 

Once inside, he shuts and bolts the door closed. 

“I’m s-so glad someone’s here,” you laugh.

Leon watches you, expression stoic even though internally he’s cataloging every single thing about you with heavy interest. 

He sees your smile tremble a little, your own gaze roving his face. 

“I’m s-sorry to bother you,” you rub your hands together for warmth, “if I c-could just make a call, I’ll b-be out of your hair in n-no time.”

You pull your cellphone out with a frown, “I h-haven’t had service in miles.”

Leon glances down at your hands before looking back up into your face, nervousness radiating from your body language. 

He turns, talking loud enough for you to hear as you follow behind him, “Phone’s in the office. If you can’t reach anyone, I have a number to a local mechanic who can help tow you out.”

“Thank you so much,” your voice sounds relieved, “I hate bothering you, but I really appreciate the help.”

“Of course, it’s what I’m here for.”

He glances back over his shoulder and sees your gaze wandering around the church, taking in the clean if rough hewn pews and stained glass windows. Your eyes cut to his quickly as if you sensed him watching, giving him a shy smile. 

“You have a beautiful church, Mister?”

“Father Kennedy,” he answers, voice a little rougher than intended as you bite your lip in embarrassment.

“Sorry, not really up on my religion,” you laugh a little bashfully, “it’s nice to meet you, Father Kennedy.”

“Likewise,” Leon turns his attention to opening the office door, gesturing for you to enter first. 

His eyes slide down your body, taking in your curves, and shaking away the urge to sink his teeth into your soft neck. You walk over to the old rotary phone, something Leon never updated as it still works just fine. 

“Oh wow, my grandma had one of these!” you grin at him, “it’s so cute that you kept it for your office.”

That dark urge to bite you flares up in his chest again but he shoves it down. He nods at you instead of saying anything and you turn back to the phone. 

Picking up the handset, you frown and click on the dial a few times before setting it back down on the cradle. 

“Seems like your phone’s out,” you bite your lip again, looking agitated. 

Leon shrugs, “Tends to happen this time of year. No telling when it’ll start working again.”

You nod along and blow out a breath, “Okay, we’ll I’ll head back to the car and see if I can—“

“Stay the night.”

That pulls you up short and he wants to laugh at the wide eyed look you give him. 

“Stay here and we can try the phone again. If it doesn’t work, I can walk you to the nearest neighbor and try their phone.”

A soft smile crosses your face and Leon’s hit with an avalanche of impure want purring in his chest. 

“Are you sure it’s no trouble? I mean I’d really appreciate it, but I don’t wanna put you out.”

“No trouble, besides I’m here to help those in need,” a crooked grin slips out, “and you seem to fit that description.”

Another shy bite of your lip has him shifting his feet, willing himself not to do anything to you. 

“Okay then,” you give him the brightest smile yet, “thank you, Father Kennedy. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

A sudden flash of you thanking him on your knees floods his thoughts and he turns away from you, adjusting his half hard cock through his slacks, never more grateful to wear all black than now. 

“Follow me please,” he calls out to you, listening as you quickly walk to catch up. 

He also listens as you introduce yourself and explain as to why you’re out here in the first place, basically boiling it down to visiting some family for the holidays. Nodding along, he guides you into his living quarters which just happens to be a bedroom big enough to house a bed and a desk with a few bookshelves. 

“It’s so cozy,” you gush, running your hand along some of the handmade quilts and crocheted throws the church parishioners have given him over the years. 

“It’s home,” he states simply, moving to the fireplace and stoking the embers into a flame. 

“I’m kinda impressed,” you say as you hang up your jacket near the door, “it’s really rare to see someone so young as a priest in these kinds of communities.”

When he only gives you a deadpan expression, you begin to flounder. 

“Oh I mean, I grew up near here and so I’m just used to like older— you know what, I just feel like I’m digging a hole for myself,” you drag your palms across your eyes, “it’s just different is all. And either way I'm happy to have met you.”

Leon finally lets his lips quirk up into a half smile, amused at your reactions. 

“I understand, it’s just funny to see you try to explain it,” he moves away from the fireplace and grabs a change of clothes, ignoring how your cute pout is making him feel. 

“There’s a bathroom just through that door,” he points to his right, your left, “I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans. There’s also some spare toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet.”

He watches as you get flustered when taking the simple sweats and cotton t-shirt. 

“Oh yeah, thanks,” you duck your head trying to hide your face and disappear behind the bathroom door to change. 

Leon lets out a long breath, trying to ease the tension building up in his chest. The wanting seems to only be getting worse the more time he’s spending with you. It’s like he’s a teenager seeing a skin magazine for the first time. 

Has he really been out here that long without seeing a pretty little thing like you? He’s in the midst of his thoughts while removing his collar and unbuttoning his cassock when he hears a soft squeak. 

He turns to see your eyes shut tight, hands clenching your bundled up clothes to your chest.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to!”

Leon frowns before looking down to see his bare chest offset by his rosary. Heat washes through him to see you peek again and bite down on your lip hard as you turn away. 

“I honestly was on autopilot,” he murmurs, voice rough making him clear his throat, “apologies, I’ll go change in the bathroom while you get settled.”

You gasp as he brushes past you to enter the bathroom. Grabbing onto the sink, Leon stares at his own blown pupils in the mirror. 

Get it together. It’s just a woman. A sweet woman. A pretty woman who probably has an equally pretty little cunt—

Shaking his head to clear it, he finishes dressing for bed. As he brushes his teeth, his eyes wander and notice the toothbrush you used sitting off to the side. A sudden flash of possessiveness surprises him leading him to quickly finish up and make his way back into the bedroom. 

You startle, standing up from sitting at the edge of the bed. 

Hands wringing together, you smile nervously, “Uh I-I wasn’t sure where to sleep? Like I can take the floor—“

He’s shaking his head already interrupting you, “We’ll share the bed. It gets extremely cold at night and it wouldn’t be safe to sleep on the floor.”

You frown over at the bed and look back at him apprehensively, “I can just use the quilts to make a pallet in front of the fire.”

“Please,” he gestures to the bed, “there’s no central heating and it gets deathly cold some nights. Even with the fire, I’d be afraid you would get frostbite.”

“I’ll sleep against the wall,” he softens his voice, “we’ll put pillows between us if you’d like and you can have the edge.”

He watches you bite on that damn lower lip again, wanting it between his own teeth. 

Nodding, your eyes seek out his again, “Okay. And we’ll try again first thing in the morning?”

“Of course,” he agrees easily, “I tend to wake early so I can check and wake you if need be.”

Your features melt from concern to thankful, “That’s very sweet of you, Father.”

A hot pulse of arousal makes his dick twitch but Leon ignores it in favor of offering you a slight smile. 

“Of course. Shall we?” he nods at the bed. 

You climb in after him, settling down under the layers of blankets and quilts. 

“I definitely never would’ve guessed I’d start my vacation by sharing a bed with a priest,” you giggle to yourself. 

“Unusual to say the least,” he dryly replies, sea dark eyes watching as you turn on your side, back facing him. 

You hum softly, shoulders twitching under the shirt and legs swishing under the covers. 

“Good night, Father Kennedy,” your soft voice has him gripping the blanket tightly. 

“Goodnight.”

It’s driving Leon up the wall with how badly he wants to reach out and touch you. Settling a little more, he listens as your breathing evens out and finds his own eyes slipping shut. 

Later in the night, he wakes up to your tossing and turning, feeling you press your ass back against him. He stifles a groan, eyes adjusting to the low light from the fireplace. You keep fidgeting, accidentally rubbing against his chubbed cock until he’s thickening in his sweats. His heavy hand reaches down and grabs you hip, stilling your movement. 

“Sorry,” your sleepily mumble, “‘m trying to get comfy.”

He dips his head down to ghost his lips across the shell of your ear, feeling you shiver, “Doesn’t seem that way to me.”

He rocks forward, letting his bulge rub against your ass; you whine and press back against him harder. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I promise I didn’t mean to.”

“Sorry, huh?” he dips his tongue into your ear making you whimper, “are you asking for forgiveness?”

His hand grasps your hip and pulls you into a slow rhythm of grinding back against his stiff cock. 

“Oh,” you mewl as he kisses the shell of your ear, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not how you ask,” he chuckles, kissing down your neck, “you know better than that.”

You moan as he bites down on the soft skin that’s been tempting him all this time. 

“Forgive me, Father Kennedy,” you break the rhythm and grind back against him harder, “I’m so sorry I’m being so bad. God, can’t believe I’m dry humping a priest.”

A smack lands on your ass making you jump. 

“We don’t take the Lord's name in vain either,” his low voice slips into your ear, “for that, you get those cute little nipples pinched.”

As you moan, he rolls you over onto your back, slipping an arm around your shoulders so both of his hands can knead and grope at your breasts. 

“Pull your shirt up,” he murmurs in your ear, “be a good girl for me.”

You shove the t-shirt up to pool around your neck, hands settling back down to twist in the sheets. His fingers quickly move to circle and pinch your hard nipples. 

“Oh, ohhh,” your eyes squeeze shut as he teases and rubs your hard buds, “Father, please.”

He bites your neck again making you writhe and press your breasts up into his hands. 

“Please,” you whimper, eyes glimmering at him in the firelight, bottom lip swollen from your own teeth. 

“Who knew such a tempting sinful girl would end up in my church much less my own bed,” he rumbles in your ear, grinding against your hip as he teases your nipples. 

“Father Kennedy,” you swipe a soft, pink tongue against your lips, making his teeth ache, “shouldn’t we stop?”

“Do you want to stop?” he kisses your jaw, fingers tweaking your nipples sharply making you moan high in your throat. 

“No, no, please, it’s so—you’re so hot,” you whine, hips squirming for friction under the blankets, “please, Father, want you so bad.”

“It’s a sin to tempt a priest,” he trails his lips across your neck to suck another mark into your skin, “you’ll have to repent.”

“H-how?” your eyes flutter, trying valiantly to stay open. 

He pulls away with a smirk, “You’ll have to use your body in service to the Lord.”

A keening whimper escapes your lips, hands shakily reaching up to run through his sandy blonde hair. 

“I-I’ll do anything,” you scratch your nails along his scalp making him groan, “just show me how I need to repent, Father Kennedy.”

He pulls his arm out from under you so he can climb on top of you, settling in between your thighs. Your hands pull his hair as he sucks a hard nipple into his hot mouth. He ruts against the mattress as he suckles each hard bud, nipping at the soft skin of your breasts and leaving marks everywhere. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve had a pair of tits in my face,” his voice is low, smoky, and he can feel your legs try to press together only stopped by his bulky body.

He takes his time, kissing the areola before running his tongue over your nipple, letting his teeth softly bite down before sucking it further into his mouth. Your hips buck up against his chest as he lays on top of you. He can feel how wet you’ve gotten already, the soft press of your panties against his skin leaving behind a sticky mess. 

He pulls back to look up into your dazed eyes, “Let me taste that wet pussy.”

You moan, hands tensing in his hair, “Y-you want to?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t,” he grins, “besides I wanna clean up that messy cunt with my tongue before you get slick all over my sheets.”

He scoots down, dragging his lips across your tummy and dropping kisses as he goes. 

“We’ll keep the blankets pulled up so you don’t get cold,” he murmurs as he bites your hip bone before soothing it with his tongue. 

You give him a shaky nod, “Okay, Father.”

He bucks his hips at that, feeling his cock leak in his sweats. He feels as you tug the blankets up and when he looks back up he can barely see your face making this seem so illicit and dirty it’s getting him even harder. 

He quickly eases your panties down your legs and tosses them on the outside of the blankets before settling between your legs again. Leon lets his instructive thoughts win and bites bruise after bruise into the dough of your thighs, sucking and worrying the skin until you're squirming against his mouth.  

He bites his way up to the crease of your thigh then lets his tongue trail across your skin until he’s lapping at your swollen clit. He hears as you moan loudly, thighs falling open wider as he hungrily licks into your cunt. 

“You taste like sin,” he groans as he pulls back to spread your pussy open, “so fucking good.”

Pressing his face tightly against your slick coated lips, he flutters his tongue into your soaked hole and grinds his nose against your bundle of nerves. He slips his tongue in and out of your hole before licking back up to your throbbing clit, softly kissing the sensitive bud again and again until sucking it gently into his mouth. 

Sweat beads around his hairline as it grows warmer underneath the layers of covers. Leon mouths at your sloppy cunt until you’re moaning loudly as slick coats his chin and lower jaw. Once your thighs start to tremble, he pulls away and crawls back up your body. The cooler air of the room kissing his sweaty skin as your hands scrabble against his shoulders. 

“‘M so close,” you whimper as you tug him into a messy kiss, “wanna cum, please Father.” 

He clicks his tongue, “You have to work hard for forgiveness,” he presses his thumb down against your chin making your lips part. 

“Maybe we should try filling that mouth up first,” he murmurs, watching as your eyes droop. 

You nod, running your hands down his broad chest, “Please, wanna see you, too.”

Surprise crosses his features, but he schools it into a crooked smile, “Aren’t you sweet? Take your shirt off for me while I get undressed.”

In no time, he’s kneeling between your parted thighs, completely nude save for the rosary around his neck. When he goes to slip it off, your hand snaps around his wrist.

He watches as the embarrassment wars with arousal as you ask him to keep wearing it. His dick throbs and kicks against his thigh and your eyes go lidded as they take in his thick cock.

“Allow me to show you how sorry I am, Father,” you scratch your nails across his chest all the way down his toned stomach to a happy trail that leads to the thatch of hair above his cock. 

Goosebumps travel across his skin when you rub across his hips bones, breath ghosting across the drippy head of his dick. 

Your tongue lathes over the slit, circling his tip and teasing under his foreskin before you pull back. 

That shy look steals over your face, “Can you sit here?”

You pat the gap in the pillows in front of the headboard. Leon’s lips quirk in amusement and shifts to sit with his back to the headboard and legs splayed out across the bed. You move to kneel in between his thighs, eyes greedily taking in his stiff cock. 

He watches as you lean forward, one hand coming up to grip the base of his cock as the other rests on his thigh, and slowly sucks the head of his dick into your mouth. Your eyes shutter with a moan as you take more and more of his cock into your mouth until you choke. 

Pulling off with a gasp, your watery eyes blink open staying on his as you sink back down on his cock. His abdomen tenses and he grabs the back of your neck with his broad palm to guide your head. 

“No need to rush,” his eyes track your tongue as you lick and kiss all along his dripping slit.

“You taste so good,” you moan as you lick your way down to his balls. 

Leon keeps his gaze on you as your wet mouth sucks his balls into your mouth, whining when you can’t fit both at the same time. You smear your face against the spit slick skin of his squishy sac as you nuzzle and suck his taint.  

“Oh, good girl,” he parts his legs wider so your mouth can reach him easier. 

Your glazed eyes slide shut when you slip your tongue down further to ghost across his asshole. Tongue drifting lazily against it, Leon grunts when you finally lick into him. 

“Such an eager girl,” he rasps as you softly eat him out, tongue eagerly rimming his hole. 

You sloppily makeout with his hole as his cock weeps precum everywhere; his own heavy hands keep your face buried between his cheeks. 

When you finally pull back, your chin’s coated with spit. 

“Suck my cock a little more and I’ll fill up that needy cunt,” he pulls your swollen mouth to the weeping head. 

Whining, you easily follow along and let his thick cock sink back into your mouth. He luxuriates in the feeling, the feeling of your hot hungry mouth slurping loudly around his dick. You moan and whine around him, rubbing your thighs together for friction. He smirks to see you acting so needy, so obedient in servicing him. 

“Up,” he murmurs, grabbing your neck and pulling you off of his cock.

Your hands reach out to dig into his pecs, framing the rosary between your hands as you straddle his lap, his cock snugly pressing against your pussy. 

“Oh, Father, please,” you grind down on his wet cock, dragging slick along his throbbing length until your clit’s bumping his tip. 

“Poor little lamb,” his hands grab your hips, letting you rock against him. 

With the grip he has on your hips, he easily manhandles you onto your back, kneeling between your spread legs, cock leaking all over your wet cunt.  

“Oh god,” you mewl, scratching at his chest. 

He spanks your clit with his fat cock. 

“What did I say about taking the Lord’s name in vain?”

Your pupils swallow any color left in your eyes, “‘m sorry, daddy. I don’t mean to be bad.”

“Fuck,” he growls, slapping your cunt with his cock over and over to make your hips jump, “are you misbehaving on purpose?”

Head shaking no, you wrap your legs around his waist, “No, I didn’t mean— it just slipped out. I‘m sorry, Father Kennedy.”

He nudges the tip of his cock into your hole, making you keen and rock down. The pressure around just the head makes him want to be rougher, meaner with you.

He grins smugly down at you, “You just can’t help it, can you? The wetter this pussy gets the dumber you are, right? What a slut.”

You whine, the heels of your bare feet digging into the back of his legs, goading him to slide deeper into your cunt. 

“Yes, I’m your slut, Father,” your hands tug on his rosary making him groan and fuck his dick into your spasming cunt. 

His heavy weight drops over your body, earning another low whine followed by your nails scoring a hot trail across his shoulders. He shudders, enjoying that small bite of pain as your eyes roll back in your head, pussy sucking him in even deeper somehow. 

“Pretty cunt just needed me buried balls deep in her, huh?” he groans as he pulls out just to sink back into your pussy, “so tight.”

“W-wait,” your voice goes high with sudden realization, “I thought p-priests were banned f-from having sex,” you gasp out, stuttering through Leon’s thrusts. 

“Baby,” he coos condescendingly, “you don’t think I was some silly little virgin, did you?”

He boxes you in even more, dropping down on his forearms that rest on each side of your head. 

“But I gotta say, you’ve got the best pussy I’ve ever fucked,” he kisses your mouth, “so wet,” he drops another kiss to your lips, “and tight,” and another kiss ending with a rough bite of your bottom lip, “this kitty’s been purring for my dick all night.”

Your head thrashes against the pillow at his words, “Yes, yes, fuck,” tears drip from your lash line, “it’s so good, Father Kennedy.”

Molten heat rushes through his veins at your wanton face paired with that sweet voice. His teeth sink into that plush bottom lip, suckling on it until you tug your head back with a soft cry. It’s swollen and split from his teeth, a small bead of blood welling up only for him to lick it away with a groan.  

He licks into your mouth, mixing spit and blood until he’s sucking your tongue past his own greedy lips. His cock slowly ruts in and out of your clenching hole as he kisses you breathless. Your fingers tangle in his rosary, tugging him back to your mouth every time he goes to pull away. 

Leon lets himself go; stops trying to control himself and settles into fucking into your warm, wet cunt with harsh skin slapping thrusts. He bites anywhere his mouth can reach, leaving dark bruises or even outright bloody teeth marks behind. His dark eyes keep track of your pleasure as well; if you wince, he makes sure to lathe his tongue across a bite instead of sinking his teeth into you again or fucks his cock shallowly into your pussy instead of knocking against your cervix how he likes. 

You reward him with pretty little cries and pleads against his lips; your doughy thighs clasped tightly around his waist as you beg for him to ruin your cunt. He wrings orgasm after orgasm until your body’s spent and you're babbling incoherently. 

He keeps you underneath him all night, trading blood tinged kisses as his cock stuffs your squelching pussy. Sunlight begins to stream through the snow tinted windows when he finally manhandles your body to straddle over him once again. 

Leon feels like this must truly be what heaven is like. You, seated in his lap as he buries his cock to the hilt in your hot little cunt watching as you grind down against him. Fat dimples between his fingers as he grips your ass tightly, helping you keep rhythm as he bounces you up and down his dick. 

“Oh Father Kennedy,” you whimper, “I can’t, I can’t—“

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs, easing your harsh grind into a slow back and forth, “you can give me one more so I can feel that pussy squeeze me so I can put a nice thick load in her.”

His fingers slowly circle and pinch your pudgy clit, letting you rock against him a little faster. 

“Oh, I’m-I’m g’nna,” you hiccup a sob, tears dripping from your eyes as he works your exhausted body towards another orgasm. 

“Call me, Leon,” he smiles at you, the first genuine one he’s actually offered to anyone in quite a long time, “now cum for me, squeeze me nice and tight.”

“Leon, Leon, I-I’m cumming,” you gasp out, a mewling cry slipping past your swollen lips as your pussy milks Leon’s cock for the upteenth time since this all started. 

“Good girl, so good for me,” he groans, letting your climax coax his own from him, grabbing your hips to hold you snug to him. 

He growls up at you, cock jumping inside your spasming pussy as rope after rope of sticky cum spurts inside your fluttering walls. 

 “Leon, oh, it’s so warm,” you whimper, one hand settling on your belly and the other resting on Leon’s heaving chest. 

“Fuck,” he yanks you down into a messy, spit filled kiss.

You whine and he softens it, titling his mouth up to press softer kisses to your lips until pulling away. Easing down next to him, you snuggle into his side, burying your face in his neck. 

“So am I forgiven now?” you tease, fingers tracing over the beads of his rosary. 

“Might need to spend some time with me in the confessional,” he presses a kiss to your hair, “just to make sure it takes.” 

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #priest!leon s kennedy #priest!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #priest!leon s kennedy smut #priest!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #fem!reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #priest!leon x reader #💀 anon

[truly-neutral-art]

Din/Luke Pacific Rim AU pt.2

Pt.1 | Pt.3 | Pt.4

Another addition to this AU because It's been living in my head rent free for ages. I can't do a Pacific Rim AU without recreating the iconic Kwoon scene. Also, I was too lazy to draw backgrounds so I just stole them from the movie  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Under the cut is a teaser of the fic I'm trying to write. It's a first draft, so there's probably some mistakes. Also, I'm still kind of in Screen Writing mode from school, so please don't mind if there's not a lot of internal character narration.

“Four points to two,” Luke calls after the final candidate falls. His emotions are carefully masked on his face but Din can see how tense he is. 

“We’re wasting time, Marshal. He’s barely compatible with any of them, this isn’t going to work,” Luke says.

“What do you suggest?” The Marshal raises a brow. 

“Put me in charge, I’m drift compatible with several cadets. We don’t need him.” Luke gestures towards Din. The look on his face makes Din’s blood boil. Contempt. What did he ever do to Luke to earn this?

“What’s your problem, Skywalker?” Din stomps towards the edge of the mat. 

“I’ve already told you, I don’t think you're the right man for the job,” Luke replies. He’s now turned squarely towards Din, his face back to that eerie calm. It sends a shiver down Din’s spine. 

“No, there’s more. You’ve got a problem with me.” Din steps closer, trying to ignore the piercing blue of Luke’s eyes. 

“Enough! both of you.” Marshal Skywalker turns to them both. 

“If you think you’re so much better, then let’s go.” Din points his bō at Luke. “If you win, you can pilot the Crest. If I win, you back off.” Din holds Luke's gaze, projecting his challenge. 

“Neither of you are in the position to make that decision,” Anakin states, breaking the spell. 

“What? Think your own blood isn’t good enough to beat me?” Din didn’t know Marshal Skywalker that well, but from what he did know, the man was prideful. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move, but it got him what he wanted. 

The Martial turned towards Luke, earning his attention. No words were exchanged between them, the Martial simply gave a nod. A brief look of satisfaction washed over Luke’s face. Din turned towards the mat to prepare for the fight before Luke’s eyes turned back to him. 

Luke stepped to the edge of the mat, shoes and outer shirt removed. He bowed at the waist before stepping forward. He was in a simple black tank top and the standard cargo pants. It was the first time Din had seen any of his skin exposed beyond his face. His arms and neck were covered in pale, lightning-like scars that looked like they extended beyond what Din could see. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. He knew almost nothing about Luke when he really thought about it. Only what he heard from the news from the past four years.

He had to admit, it made him earn a little more respect for the kid. At first he’d seemed like a petulant child who was getting his favorite toy taken away, but now, Din wasn’t as sure that was the case. He had no more time to think on it as he and Luke passed each other on the mat, walking to opposite sides, then turning to face each other. 

In the blink of an eye Luke swung his bō with the finesse of a warrior. He moved forward before stopping in the middle of the mat as he pulled his bō up in defense. Din followed suit, taking on a more aggressive starting position. He could tell Luke was analyzing him, eyes flitting around to every point of his body. Din took the opportunity to attack. In one swift moment he had his bō mimicking a strike at Luke’s skull. 

“One, Zero.” The words had barely left his mouth before Luke made a counter attack. In a flash Luke had reversed their positions with a satisfied smirk. 

Without wasting any more time the two began to fight again in an explosion of movement. The people in the kwoon reacted to them, but Din’s focus narrowed in until it was only them in the room. He watched Luke’s movements carefully, anticipating and blocking every attack that came and returning his own. He picked up on a franticness in Lukes’s movements and took advantage, landing an attack on his ribs. 

“You’re too eager, you’re projecting your moves,” Din commented as they reset. 

“I don’t need your advice.” Despite his words, Luke waited, ready for Din’s next move. 

Luke swiftly blocked everything Din threw at him and pushed back even harder. In the next moment Luke attacked with a flurry of blows, catching Din off guard. He was stronger than he looked. 

“Two, two.” Luke had once again evened the score. 

There was barely a pause before they were at it again. This bout lasted longer than the others, both having picked up on each other’s gambit. They danced around each other, the only sound in Din’s ears were the clacking of their bō staffs and their heavy breathing. Neither was holding back. 

In a blur of motion Luke darted towards Din’s legs, throwing him off balance. Din rolled out of the throw but as he lifted his head he was met with Luke’s bō to his throat. Luke's eyes were no less intense this close. 

“Two, Three.” Luke stepped back into a ready position. “Better watch out, Djarin.” There was a satisfied smirk on his face. He was winning. Din wouldn’t give up that easily. 

He pulled out every trick he had, but Luke seemed to always be a step ahead. He was too fast, almost as if he could read Din’s mind. From the outside it would almost look like this was rehearsed. In the end, it was Din’s weight advantage that won him the point. He moved in close and pinned Luke's arm before throwing him down to the mat. The blond hit the ground on his back, breath escaping his lungs from the impact. 

Din almost went to help him up but Luke threw his legs backwards into a handstand before standing back up. He barely looked affected, the only sign of fatigue on him was the sweat on his forehead that matted down his blond hair. 

“Three, Three,” Din called. “And there’s no need to show off.” 

The next point would declare a winner. There was a smile on Luke’s face, different from the ones before. This one was more open, leaving Din feeling dizzy instead of insulted. 

Din tried to understand it but there was no more time to ponder as Luke set on his next attacks. He was more aggressive than he’d been the rest of the fight but Din pushed back, not without some difficulty. Luke danced around Din with a frightening agility. The only thing that kept Din in the fight for so long were his reflexes. He knew he had to end this fight soon or Luke would eventually wear him down. 

In a decisive move Din attacked at Luke’s head, trading off his defense for offense. He had Luke on the move, nearly pushing him off the mat. However, before he could land a finishing blow Luke darted to the side, slipping his leg between Din’s and toppling him to the floor. When Din processed what happened, he was pinned under Luke’s hips on his chest and his bō at his neck. 

Cheers erupted from the gathered crowd, but Din’s view had narrowed into Luke as he stood up. Din stayed on the ground, still a bit stunned from the end of the fight. He wasn’t really sure how to feel about its outcome. But one thing was for certain, he and Luke were drift compatible. Very drift compatible. 

Din was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even realize Luke was reaching down to him until his hand was in his face. He took it and allowed Luke to help him to his feet. 

“You felt it too, didn’t you?” Luke asked.

“Yeah.”

#dinluke #star wars #luke skywalker #din djarin #art #dinluke fanart #fanfic #fanfiction #pacific rim au #dinluke au #tru's dinluke pacific rim au

[ghcstao3]

Even without his art, Soap is a people-watcher—but that being said, finding muses for his art is a job made easy when the biggest window of his flat overlooks a busy street.

For as long as he’s lived at that address, he’s had plenty of luck picking out whoever catches his eye and filling out sketchbooks worth of passersby. Every drawing a stranger, every subject unique.

Until the empty business space across the street is finally leased out to some new bistro, and suddenly Soap only has eyes for one person.

A man too well-built to be a server, surely, with arms Soap could watch flex all day as he brings out orders to customers on the patio. Soap never knows what expression he wears not because of distance, but rather the black face mask that obscures the lower half of the man’s face.

When, weeks later, Soap notices that he’s suddenly almost filled an entire journal with sketches of the server, he decides to finally pay a visit to the bistro.

It isn’t at all luck that gets Soap seated in his—the server’s section, just the pathetic fact that he’s long since memorized the man’s oddly reliable schedule.

If Soap were a stronger man he’d never admit to the feeling of his knees going weak when the man comes to take his order. The name tag tacked to the white dress shirt that stretches over broad shoulders reads Simon, and god, does Simon have a nice voice.

As soon as he’s gone with Soap’s request, Soap’s sketchbook is open. He’s quick to scribbling out every line and curve he couldn’t possibly have seen from afar, and ends up so enraptured in this new angle that he doesn’t notice Simon has returned until he’s looming over his shoulder, gaze fixed on Soap’s journal.

“So that’s what you’ve been drawing.”

Soap startles, slams his journal shut. All he can manage is a weak what? as he looks up at Simon.

The server jerks his chin in the direction of Soap’s building. Soap notes, with some distant observation, that he’s still balancing several plates on his forearms with ease.

“I’ve seen you in the window a few times,” Simon tells him.

Soap wants to melt into the floor. He desperately needs the earth to crack open and swallow him whole.

“I’m sorry, it’s not—it wasnae—“ Soap stammers, his fingers drumming an anxious pattern on the faux leather cover of his book, “I’ll stop.”

“I don’t mind,” Simon hums, leaving it cryptically at that. He finally sets Soap’s food on the table, bidding a good meal before disappearing off to go do his job.

Soap doesn’t think the buzzing warmth on his face ever fades for the entirety of his time spent at the bistro. Simon never checks in with Soap like he does other patrons, either, so Soap just gets to wallow.

Things are hardly made better when Simon says hope to see you around after Soap has paid, or when Soap gets home and notices the phone number scrawled on his receipt just as he’s about to ball it up and toss it out.

Going to the bistro was a mistake. Simon is surely going to be the death of him.

Or Soap is going to be the death of himself—especially doing something dumb as accidentally leaving his sketchbook behind in his haste to get out.

Soap’s cheeks burn.

And when he looks out his window to the table he’d been sat, he already sees the journal is gone.

Idiot. What a complete and utter idiot.

#alternate universe #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghostsoap #writing #drabble #ghost x soap #ghoap #ignore mistakes i am barely awake

[probably-writing-x]

Another?

Summary: Rafe was known for how much his body could handle. Everyone knew it. The boy had no limits. So what happens when you try to keep up?

Warnings: Alcohol and substance use, cursing

Author’s Note: Thanks for all of the love recently, I’m glad you’re all liking my writing again !! Now prepare for Rafe being a douche and making your life hell :)

You had known the Cameron’s since you were little, having grown up as their neighbours. You’d spent nearly every day with them, Thanksgivings, July 4th’s, Christmases - they were like a second family. You and Sarah were inseparable, growing up like the twin sisters you’d never had. And Rafe? He’d always found a way to get under your skin. He drove you insane, the one person it seemed that you could argue with for hours on end. But he had the other side too. He’d punched your first boyfriend in middle school when they’d split up with you, and he went with you to prom before anybody else could ask you to be their date, he bought you Christmas presents and gave them to you when nobody else was around. Rafe cared for you in a way he didn’t seem to care for anybody else. Everyone could see it, it was like he had a whole new heart just for you, different from the one he showed to everyone else.

Another thing about Rafe - he always hosted the biggest parties. And tonight was no different. There were people here you’d never seen before, and all of the regular offenders.

“Hey (Y/N),” Topper grins when he sees you, two red solo cups in his hand, “I’ve been told to give you this.”

You smile and take the cup from him, “Thanks Top. Quick question though, who the hell are half of these people?”

He laughs, “Rafe invited a bunch of the holidayers, don’t ask me why.”

You roll your eyes, “Because god forbid his house isn’t overflowing.”

Topper laughs and leans back against the counter in the kitchen where you stood. You two had always stayed friends, past whatever had happened with him and Sarah. He was too sweet for his own good, as much as that was his worst trait sometimes.

“Have you seen him? He’s on it tonight,” He gestures towards where Rafe was snorting another line from the kitchen island.

He’s in a white tee with an open button down shirt, looking handsome despite his habits. His hair is fixed in the curtains around his head that he would constantly complain about, telling you that he should just shave it all off. So far, you’d been able to convince him not to. There’s a beer bottle in his hand but he takes a shot glass from the table and overflows it with tequila, tipping it back like it’s just water to his waiting liver.

“No different than normal, right?” Topper nudges you when you don’t respond, like drawing your attention back to reality.

But you weren’t so sure. He doesn’t seem like the boy you knew. There was something darker about him recently, like the drink and the drugs were more of a coping mechanism than a release. He needed it more than he wanted it recently, and it terrified you.

“(Y/N)!” The familiar low rumble of his voice calls out to you, and you look up to see him stumbling a little in his beeline in your direction.

“Rafe,” You reply, “Having fun?”

“You two are being boring,” He gestures between you and Topper, “You can’t just stand around all night.”

“I think we’re fine, Rafe,” Topper states, taking a swig of his beer.

“No, no, no,” Rafe shakes his head, swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, he lifts the hand with the bottle in the direction of Topper, his words slurring into, “I’ve told you before to stay away from her bro.”

“What are you talking about Rafe?” Topper clenches his jaw, looking at you as if he needs you to back him up already.

“Go for my sister, I don’t care. But if she doesn’t want you, that doesn’t mean you get (Y/N).”

“Fuck you,” Topper spits, downing the rest of his drink and walking out of the room, even the mention of Sarah fuelling the anger inside of him that it used to be rare to see.

You turn around and step out of Rafe’s grip, “Well, you can apologise for that in the morning.”

“I’m not apologising to him, I see the way he looks at you,” Rafe shakes his head, sniffing as if his body is already longing for its next hit.

“Rafe,” You’re slow in your words, forcing him to listen, “Me and Topper are friends, same as always. And, even if there was something there, it’s not your place to tell me who I can speak to.”

He takes a big gulp of his drink, not even the slightest hint of distaste on his features, his jaw clenches and unclenches before he speaks, “So you do like him?”

“You’re too drunk and high, and too far gone on whatever is in your body, for this conversation. I’m going home, and I’m going to bed. And I suggest you do too,” You grab your jacket from the counter and tug it over your shoulders, walking away before he has the chance to stop you.

“(Y/N)!” He shouts out, but it drowns out amongst the pulsing of the party.

~~~

Rafe had sent you a string of drunk texts last night after you’d left but none of them made enough sense to understand - just a lot of letters jumbled together. You could still hear the party going on late into the night from your house and part of you feared just how drunk Rafe would be the next day. No. It wasn’t your responsibility.

It’s midday when you walk past their house, taking a quick glance up like you normally would. And you spot him. On the porch, surrounded by bottles and cups and cans, sat on the couch as if not at all phased by it all.

You can’t help but be drawn towards him.

“Hey,” You speak quietly when you reach the top of the steps to the porch.

He looks at you through blurred eyes, picking up a beer bottle from the table and swigging it.

“You’re still drinking?” You raise your brows, the worry settling over your face.

“Shame for it to go to waste, right?” He shrugs, finishing the rest of the bottle and throwing it to the pile.

There were the remainders of various drugs spread across the table and you were almost completely certain that they were all his. The sight made your stomach turn.

But there was something in you when it came to Rafe, an urgency to help him as if you were the only person that could.

“Okay, I’ll have one too,” You set your bag down onto the table and take one of the full bottles, cracking it open and chugging at least half of the bottle.

“What are you doing (Y/N)?”

His hair is in disarray like it normally was in the mornings and he’d changed his clothes, so you knew he’d gone to sleep and woken up. If anything, that made things worse. This wasn’t the continuation of a late night, it was him waking up and realising he wanted to drown out another day before it had even started - the likelihood being that he had hoped he hadn’t had to wake up. It brought a lump to your throat and a tear in your heart.

He opens another bottle and so you finish yours and open another too, the beer already bubbling uncomfortably in your stomach.

“Cut it out,” He rolls his eyes, “I don’t want to deal with this today.”

“Clearly,” You state simply, sipping when he sips.

It continues like that until he’s finished another bottle, grabbing for the bottle of vodka next. You take the tequila, fighting back a wince as you mirror him sipping it down.

“Just fuck off (Y/N),” He says coldly, a kind of tone he rarely ever directed at you.

With that, he reaches for one of the small plastic bags of infamous white powder and tips out enough for a line.

“What? Are you doing this too?” He raises his brows.

You shrug, “Whatever you do, I do.”

Rafe laughs bitterly, setting out another line of equal size just next to his. He does his without flinching, as if it’s practically air to his immune body. You swallow the lump in your throat and pull your hair away from your face.

“You can’t be serious, (Y/N)…” His voice trails off and for a second you know that he’s nervous.

You don’t speak, bending down towards the table, your nose just inches above the wood.

Within a second, a blow of air comes from beside you, Rafe spraying the powder as far from you as he can get it, looking at you with an anger in his eyes.

“What the fuck is this? You think I’m just going to let you start doing drugs in front of me?” He scoffs, his voice raising just a little.

“How do you think I feel, Rafe? I’m watching you practically dig your own grave!”

“That’s not the same thing, okay?”

“I’m tired of acting like I shouldn’t care about this stuff, Rafe! I care about you, and I’m watching you destroy yourself, and you won’t talk to me, you won’t do anything, and you’re acting like I should just sit around and watch you become something and someone that I know you’re not. And of all your yes-men friends, who else is going to be honest with you?”

“I didn’t ask you to do this (Y/N),” He comments, regretting it almost as soon as the words come out.

“You know what? Go fuck yourself,” You grab your bag and stand up, storming back down the path away from his house as quickly as you can, your limbs trembling.

You’re not sure if you hear him, or perhaps it’s just that your hopes had been answered, but his hand grabs you and it feels like both of you are grounded in that moment. It’s a harsh contact, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist, but the sting is one of relief; of knowing he was there.

“Please don’t go.”

#rafe #Rafe cameron #outerbanks #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks x you #outerbanks x y/n #rafe imagine #rafe one shot #rafe drabble #rafe blurb #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron blurb #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks one shot #outerbanks drabble #outerbanks blurb

[superiorsturgeon]

Jaune's Bachelor Party

Ren: Are you certain that this is a tradition for bachelor parties? I promised Pyrrha that Jaune would have fun and be safe...

Taiyang: Well of course!

Qrow: That’s why you hired us, right?

Ren: I suppose…but this plan you gave me…

Taiyang: Don’t worry! Qrow and I are old pros at this!

Qrow: You should’ve seen what I did for Tai’s second bachelor party! The cops in Menagerie were both impressed AND pissed!

Ren: ...I’m even less sure about this than I was before.

———————————————————————

Jaune: *walking down the sidewalk with Ren* Thanks again for agreeing to be my best man, Ren!

Ren: I’m honored you asked me!

Jaune: So, what’s the plan for tonight? Meet Sun and Neptune for dinner at the noodle bar? Go to the VIP room at the arcade? I hope it's not a difficult Escape Room, I told Pyrrha I’d be back by-

Qrow: NOW!!!

Taiyang/Qrow: *jump out of bushes and grab Jaune*

Qrow: *cover’s Jaune’s face with a chloroform-soaked rag until he passes out*

Taiyang: *throws Jaune’s body over his shoulder and carries him to an unmarked van*

Ren: That was more violent than I was told to expect.

Qrow: Hey, who’s the professional here?

Taiyang: *tosses unconscious body into the back* Besides, the fun’s barely begun!

———————————————————————

Sun: So…uh…we’ve been driving for a while…where is this bachelor party exactly?

Neptune: And why is the bachelor unconscious in the back seat?

Taiyang: *driving the van* Don’t worry, we know what we’re doing!

Qrow: Blondie’s going to love this place, trust me!

Jaune: *groans* …wha…? Where are we…?

Taiyang: We’re here! *slams on the brakes*

Taiyang/Qrow/Jaune/Ren/Sun/Neptune: …

Sun: …dude, you brought us to a strip club.

Ren: This is everything I promised Pyrrha I wouldn’t let happen.

Qrow: Oh, lighten up! Once we go inside you’ll see that this is a classy place with an excellent buffet!

Jaune/Ren/Sun/Neptune: *dragged inside*

Qrow: Feast your eyes, boys!

Jaune: 😳

Ren: 😳

Sun: Dude…

Neptune: …holy…

Taiyang: Hey, I told the MC that we’re here for a bachelor party and she said they’ll do something special!

Jaune: Wait, what?

MC: Attention, everyone! We’ve got a special show on tonight for someone’s last night out before getting hitched!

Jaune: *shrinks down awkwardly as spotlight shines on him*

MC: …So everyone give it up for the bandit queen herself! Welcome to the stage…Raven!

Raven: *struts on stage*

Qrow: Raven?

Taiyang: RAVEN?!

Raven: Qrow? Taiyang?! What the hell are you doing here?

Taiyang: What the hell are YOU doing here?!

Ren: Is this part of the bachelor party?

Raven: The tribe broke up a few months back, and this was the easiest way to make money under the table without drawing the cops' attention!

Neptune: What’s even happening right now?

Qrow: What, robbing people crapped out and couldn’t get a job as a street walker?

Raven: 😡

Raven: 😑…You know what? I’ve got a job to do and I’m going to do it! Which one of you is getting married? *starts undoing her shirt*

Jaune: I-

Jaune: *hit in the face with Raven’s top*

———————————————————————

Sun/Neptune/Ren/Jaune: *sitting at the buffet table after Raven's raunchy display* ...

Sun: ...did that seem…like…really weird to anyone else?

Neptune: It started out exciting, but then it got…disturbing…😰

Ren: *looking down at his noodles* …I don’t feel like eating…I’m not sure I can even look at this right now…

Jaune: *hair messed up and nursing a series of rope burns and whip lashes* I miss Pyrrha…😭

Qrow: *finishes his noodles with a slurp* Not a bad start to the evening, if I do say so myself! 😋

Qrow: Has anyone seen Tai?

Sun: He went backstage with the stripper. He said something about “the weirdest sex ever.”

Qrow: *shaking his head* Ha, ha….! Classic Taiyang…!

Qrow: …

Qrow: …anyway, everyone back in the van for the second half of the bachelor party!

Neptune: Uh…?

Sun: Well…?

Ren: This sounds like a bad idea.

Jaune: I don’t-

Raven: *pulling her shirt down as she walks out of the back room* Hell, yeah! I’ll drive!

Taiyang: *following Raven and fastening his pants* I’ll grab my keys!

Ren: *face in his hands* If we survive, Pyrrha’s going to kill me

Pt 2…

#rwby #jaune arc #lie ren #neptune vasilias #sun wukong #qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #raven branwen #arkos #jaune x pyrrha #jaune arc x pyrrha nikos #phoenix #taiyang x raven #Taiyang xiao long X raven branwen

[n0tangeliccc]

I have an idea! NSFW Jealous possesive top creek x reader, the asian girls start drawing reader with other ppl and the ships became very famous around town, tweek n craig have no other option than fuck reader until she can't think straight bc they're jealous as hell and they need to prove that reader belongs to them 💏💏💏💏

You’re ours

Craig x Fem!Reader x Tweek

(EVERYONE IS 18+)

Warning: Smut, unprotected sex, oral (m! + f! receiving), cum swallowing (it’s implied), threesome, fingering, degradation (the tiniest bit of praise), slight edging (?), semi-public sex (idk other people can hear you), uh i think that’s everything i don’t know how to tag these things😵‍💫(some parts might sound ooc im sorry!!)

A/N: I didn’t expect y’all to love the Creek stuff but here you go my loves🤭 (also this was not proofread please tell me of any misspellings!!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧˖°.

There stood your two lovers, Tweek and Craig, their hands shaking in rage as they looked at the huge mural of you and their close friend Clyde together. Ever since you started hanging out those same girls who once got them together have been shipping you and Clyde together and this made Tweek and Craig absolutely furious. “AcK- Craig can you believe this?” Tweek’s mind was racing with panicked thoughts of you leaving him and Craig “W-what if she leaves us for him aHh! This is too much!!” “Calm down honey” Craig rubs Tweek’s back trying to calm him down before sighing “I knew we should’ve just been open and told everyone we’re in a poly relationship now look at this shit!” He face palmed mentally. Craig knew you were well known around South Park it would have been only a matter of time before you started getting shipped with someone he just wished it was with him and Tweek, I mean they were your boyfriends for fucks sake! “T-That was too much pressure!!” Tweek was practically about to pull his hair out. “Don’t worry I’ve been thinking of a way to make it know” Craig smirks and Tweek gives him a confused look “Don’t worry honey I’ll tell you all about my plan on the way, now come on I’m sure Y/N’s waiting for us at the coffee shop”

As they walk to the shop they couldn’t help but notice something that only fueled their anger and jealousy even more, Clyde. Craig’s whole body tensed up and his grip on Tweek’s hand tightened causing the blonde to turn and look at what was happening.

You had been cleaning a bit while waiting for your lovers to arrive when Clyde had walked in and struck up a conversation. You’re body leaned against the counter as you and Clyde spoke when suddenly you heard the cafe door slam open. “So then I- What the hell??” Clyde jumped as Craig and Tweek walked in “Oh hey guys what’s up?” His smile fading quickly as his friends glared at him “Okay?..Anyways Y/N-“ “AH!-Actually WE need to t-talk to her right now” Tweek cut him off ‘Weird’ you thought, you’d never seen them act like this before “Well we can go into the back office, I’ll be right back Clyde!” You waved as the guys dragged you away from him.

You could feel the tension in the air as you walked in turning to look at your boyfriends. “So…What’s going on guys?” You asked awkwardly “What’s going on?? Seriously Y/N don’t you see what’s being spread around??” Craig answered back angrily “All these people are convinced you’re with Clyde!!” The jealousy pumping through his veins as he pulled you towards him and Tweek “You’re ours and I think it’s time we let people know” he growled in you ear. “I-In here?” You questioned as he grabbed you and sat you on the desk “People will hear guys” Craig smirked “I’m sure you’d like that considering how much of a whore you’ve been lately, don’t you think Tweek?” Tweek chuckled and nodded in agreement “B-better they hear and know”

He kissed down your neck as Craig untied your apron and unbuttoned your work shirt. Both men began leaving trails of hickies down your neck and breast switching sides so Tweek was now in front of you he continued to kiss down your torso, Craig removed your bra and began teasing your tits making you whimper. Tweek unzipped your pants and pulled them down to around your ankles before beginning to kiss your inner thighs running his hands painfully close to your aching core “Tweek..” you whimpered again making both men laugh. “What’s w-wrong baby? Feeling needy?” Tweek looked up at you with a sly grin, you rarely got to see this overly dominant side of him but when you did god did it make you wet. “Please Tweek” “I don’t know Tweek I think she’s been to much of a slut to deserve it” Craig smirked giving your breast a soft squeeze making you groan “So fucking slutty, bet you’re soaked just from us teasing aren’t you?” You hear Tweek chuckle as he pulled down your panties “Oh s-she is Craig” his fingers hovered over your clit teasingly making you shiver in anticipation “F-fucking whore” Tweek growled before sticking two of his fingers into your wet folds. You gasped loudly as he began sliding them in and out of you rapidly “F-Fuck Tweek!!” You moaned loudly “So loud, though you didn’t want anyone to hear this you slut” Craig grinned smugly as he undid his pants “Time to get that pretty mouth of yours to work” he said as he pulled cock out from his pants “Come on bitch you know you want it” You laid back on the desk as Tweek continued to ravish your pussy and Craig tapped his cock on your cheek “Go on, suck it whore” You wasted no time getting to work giving his tip kitten licks as you stoked the rest of his length. “Fuck…good whore” Craig groaned as you began to slowly began to sick your head down his shaft. Tweek smirked and flattered his tongue against your clit teasingly before harshly sucking on it making you moan around Craig cock “Yeah j-just like that baby” he removed his fingers from inside you switching to his tongue, he lapped your juices rapidly making moan even louder as you felt yourself getting closer to cumming. “A-Are you close?” Tweek asked as he pulled away, his thumb circling your clit as you pulled away from Craig and nodded desperately. “Switch?” He asked Craig “Switch” he grinned mischievously as they exchanged spots with Craig between your legs and Tweek in front of you face now. You quickly began to stroke Tweek’s dick before bringing it to your mouth as Craig teased your entrance with his cock making you whimper around Tweek. “G-gah!” Tweek moaned as your mouth did wonders on his cock. Craig slid into your wet folds a low groan escaping his lips as he began slowly began to thrust into you “That’s it take it like a good slut” he cooed in your ear as his thrust began to speed up. You’re moans we’re sending chills up Tweek’s spine as you sucked him off, he grabbed onto your hair pushing himself deeper into your throat “F-fuck- close!!” You continued even faster as you hear his breath quicken “Ngh! Y/N!!” He let out one last high pitched groan before he came in your mouth holding your head down on his cock. Craig chuckled and began thrusting even faster and harder that before as he felt your walls clenching around him “That’s it whore, cum for us” His animalistic thrust sent you over the edge and you came hard screaming out in pleasure “F-fuck” Craig grunted as his thrust became sloppier and he pushed himself into you on last time before he came.

By the next day everyone knew of your relationship with Tweek and Craig. Not because you guys announced it out loud but because poor Clyde heard the whole thing from outside the office and told everyone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧˖°.

Longest oneshot I’ve written (why it took me so damn long😭) also the dirtiest oml😮‍💨

#south park x reader #south park fanfiction #south park x y/n #south park x you #south park smut #craig tucker x reader #craig tucker x you #craig tucker x y/n #tweek tweak x reader #tweek tweak x you #tweek tweak x y/n #creek x reader

[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

My Little Shadow: Part seven (Azriel x Reader)

Warnings: Not really any, just Y/N having a deep mistrust of the inner circle.

Part six

Part eight

After walking through Velaris with Azriel, the highlord and highlady have some questions...

Tag list: @mis-lil-red @bubybubsters

“So, what do you think?”  Azriel asked again.  I hadn’t registered his question the first time, too overwhelmed with the beautiful city I was now in.

“It’s wonderful.”  I speak softly, and I wonder if he would ever hear me over the sounds of people talking. Females laughing, and children shrieking with joy.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen such unrestrained happiness like this, it has always been too dangerous.

This though…

I kept wandering through the streets, staring into different shop windows and walking through the crowds of happy people.  I wished I could join in with some of the females, talking and laughing.

I clenched my fists, trying to stay in the moment.

“How has this place not been found?”  I ask Azriel, who’s watching me with that classic blank stare.  I had to learn how to do that.

“It’s a mixture of knowing who to trust with it’s secret, and centuries of powerful spells bound to this place.  Anyone not welcome who get close, will find themselves wanting to leave and go elsewhere.”  He said, smiling a little bit as a little girl walked up to him, giving him a flower.

He took it, smiling back at the little girl as she giggled, running off once more into the crowd.

I watched him for a moment longer, twirling the white lilly between his scarred fingers.  I realize that I hadn’t noticed those swirling scars before, which seems strange.

As I start to look up, I meet his eyes.

Shit.

He stands up to his full height, and I stiffen, not knowing what he’s going to do.  “I- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to stare, I was just curious-”

I try not to start crying.  I finally found someone who I could trust, and I already fucked it up.  He was going to drag me back or just leave me here now, I could already see it.

His eyes softened as he saw me draw back.  “I’m not upset.”

I froze, taking deep calming breaths as I nodded.  “Oh… Uh, okay.”  I said, suddenly awkward.  I didn’t know what to do in this situation.

I could see him thinking about something, then he seemingly came to a decision because he held out his hands for me to examine.

Reaching out slowly, as to give him the opportunity to draw back if he wished.  And when he doesn’t, I take his hand in mine, tracing the patterns gently.

His scars are so beautiful, much like him.

I had changed back at the house, Azriel insisting I get out of that ridiculous wedding dress before heading outside.

I had chosen a long sleeve shirt and skirt that barely showed my feet.  I wondered what he would think of my scars, if he would see that they had a story behind them, just like his.

I dropped his hand after a minute.  “Thank you.”

He seems a bit surprised.  “Are you not going to ask?”

I shake my head, knowing what he's asking.  “If you want to tell me, I’m okay with that, but I already can tell this isn’t something you tell everyone.”

He’s speechless, his mouth slightly open as he looked down at me with such curiosity I had to try not to blush.

“So this is our new shadowsinger.” An elegant and silky voice says from behind me, and I can’t help but to stiffen up as I whirl around.

It’s the highlord.

But he doesn’t have his usual terrifying presence.  No, instead of the sharp, dark cloth the usually adorns his toned figure, he wore a light shirt with brown pants, his high lady next to him, wearing a paint stained sweater with loose pants.

And behind them, little Nyx was peering around his mothers legs.

I try not to gape at the sight.

I realized that I hadn’t bowed yet, and went to do so, but Azriel’s hand on my back stopped me.

“This is Y/N.  She wanted to explore, so I thought I’d come with her.”  Azriel says, keeping me close.

I couldn’t help but feel as if he was taking up on my behalf.

My highlord stares at me, his violet eyes searching me for some sort of ill intent.

“Rhys, take it easy on her, she’s obviously overwhelmed already.”  I do gape this time as the high lady speaks with such softness before turning to me.

“I’m Feyre, we’re so happy that you’re here now.”  She said taking one of my hands in hers and shaking it gently.

I nod, a little bit breathless.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you also Hig- Feyre.”

She smiles at my almost use of her title, and I blush, wondering how I ended up in front of the most powerful highlord and highlady, on a first name basis no less.

“I know that you’re probably still a little shaken up, we were wondering if you could answer some of our questions?”  Feyre asked gently, as if I was a small animal, easily startled.

I didn’t want to be that anymore.  I want to be more than the cowering doe in the spotlight.

So I stand up straight.  “That’s perfectly fine.  In fact, I think I still need to fulfill my end of the bargain with Azriel.”

Rhysands eyes flared with shock, whipping his head to look at Azriel, who just shrugged like it was any other day.

I looked at Feyre, who had a bit of a mischievous smile on her face.  “He did tell you about our deal, right?”

She chuckled, shaking her head before shooting me an especially amused look.  “Not a word.”

Oh mother above.  First he caught me staring at him, now I’ve got him into real trouble.

I watch Azriel and Rhysand stare at each other for a minute, and I wonder what punishment his highlord will dole out, but he only sighs.

“I know you keep a lot of things to yourself brother, but I would appreciate it if you warn me next time you go around making deals with random strangers.”

Maybe he was nice, like they had all said.  I was still wary though.

Azriel chuckled, drawing my eyes back to him.  “Sorry.  I didn’t think it would go this far.”

Right.  Of course.

It was never part of his plan to bring me to this beautiful place, to save me from the snow.  Now I wonder if the only reason he had saved me in the first place is because I had yet to fulfill my end of the bargain.

The happy feeling that had begun to appear in my chest dissipated in an instant.  Of course that was it.

I looked to Feyre again, and I decided right then and there that no matter how nice they all appeared, I couldn’t trust them.  Any of them.

Just because they could put on a happy show, didn’t mean they weren’t just as cruel as they appeared in Hewn City.

“So do you want to do this here?”  I ask Feyre, letting her hear how on edge I was on.

Instead of getting angry like I half expected, she looked at me with more pity.  I hated it.

“Let’s head back to the town house, where you were staying before.”  Feyre said, walking up next to me.  “Everything will be alright, I promise.”

#reader x azriel #a court of mist and fury #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #acomaf #acotar #acowar #azriel acotar #y/n x azriel #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanart #acosf #Y/N #azriel x reader #y/n x shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #shadowsinger #shadows #azriel x you #high lord rhysand #high lord of the night court #feyre archeron #feysand #faerie #fae #fairies #sarah j maas

[yournameloveskpop]

A Night BackStage

Paring: Taehyun x Reader

Warning: A lots of teasing, pet names, dry humping, spanking

Summery: Y/N has a thing for drummers in rock bands. When she sees Taehyun she’s all over him and he loves it.

Style: NSFW, Smut, Rock Band AU

Word count: 2457

Y/N’s fascination with drummers reached new heights with Tomorrow X Together, her favorite rock band. Taehyun, the drummer, captivated her with his effortless mastery of the drumsticks. Each skillful twirl and spin, culminating in a precise catch, seemed like a performance tailored just for her. The rhythms he produced were more than just music; they were a sensory experience, stirring something deep within her. Y/N often wondered if his intense expressions and dynamic beats were a deliberate attempt to draw her in. She was under no illusion that he knew of her existence amidst the throngs of adoring fans, assuming his antics were aimed at the myriad of girls vying for his attention.

Contrary to her beliefs, Taehyun had noticed Y/N since the band’s debut gig. Her presence in the crowd was unmistakable, often donned in eye-catching outfits that ranged from cute crop tops paired with a pretty, little skater skirts to daringly short hot pants. To Taehyun, she was the epitome of allure, a tantalizing figure who seemed to dance just for him. Onstage, he played with an unspoken dedication to her, their shared, unvoiced connection fueling his performance.

During their latest show, the atmosphere was electric, charged with an intensity that went beyond the music. The venue was a cauldron of energy, hot and pulsating. Taehyun’s hair clung to his forehead, a testament to his fervor and the sweltering heat. Y/N found herself mesmerized, her gaze constantly drawn to him. To an outsider, it was just another concert, but for them, it felt like a silent conversation, a mutual yearning that grew with each beat.

As their eyes finally met, a current of understanding passed between them. It was as if they were the only two people in the room, the noise and chaos fading into a distant hum. The moment was brief but charged with unspoken promises and desires. They both knew, without a word, that their connection was more than just a fantasy. It was a deep, almost primal pull that neither of them could deny.

After the show, Y/N lingered near the backstage, her heart racing with anticipation. She knew it was a long shot, but the hope of a chance encounter with Taehyun was too enticing to pass up. As the crowd dispersed, she found herself alone, the echoes of the concert still reverberating in the empty venue.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed near her, and she turned to find Taehyun standing there, his expression an intriguing mix of confidence and vulnerability.

“I’ve seen you before,” he said, his voice low and captivating. “Every show, front and center. It’s hard not to notice.”

Y/N was taken aback, her words catching in her throat. “I… yes, I’m a big fan,” she managed to stammer out, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks.

Taehyun stepped closer, his eyes searching hers. “It’s not just the music for you, is it?” he asked, a knowing edge to his voice.

“No,” she whispered, her admission hanging in the air between them. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

They found themselves in a quiet corner, away from the prying eyes of the world. The conversation turned more intimate, their words laced with innuendos and shared desires. Taehyun had y/n pinned subtly to the wall his leg between pressing up against her sensitive area, making her shiver in delight.

“We shouldn’t,” Y/N murmured, even as she leaned closer to Taehyun, rolling her hips against his thigh.

“Maybe not,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “But I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you.”

Their lips met in a fiery kiss, a clash of unspoken yearnings and pent-up desires. Y/N's fingers gripped Taehyun's shirt tightly, an anchor in the storm of emotions swirling around them.

Taehyun's hands were firm on her hips, guiding her in a rhythm that matched the urgency of their kiss.

He broke the kiss briefly, his breath hot against her ear, "We both wanted this, didn't we?"

Nodding, Y/N gasped, her voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, yes, we did."

He smirked, a gleam in his eyes, "You're such a tease, aren't you?"

Before Y/N could respond, a voice echoed through the hallway, calling for Taehyun. They froze, the moment suspended. Taehyun didn't step back immediately, his eyes locked with Y/N's.

With a mischievous grin, he said, "Next concert, get ready for a VIP treatment like never before."

Flushed and frustrated, Y/N left the venue, her mind a whirlwind of anticipation.

Taehyun, returning to the backstage, was met by Yeonjun's curious glance. "Took you long enough," Yeonjun remarked.

Taehyun just grinned, a secret tucked behind his lips, "Had something to take care of."

Days later, as the next concert approached, Y/N's excitement built to a fever pitch. She clutched her VIP pass, feeling its weight like a promise.

Taehyun's eyes found her in the crowd, a silent message passing between them. The music pulsed around them, a backdrop to their private anticipation.

After the show, heart racing, Y/N made her way backstage. The corridor felt endless, each step amplifying her anticipation.

She found Taehyun waiting, his presence like a magnet. Their eyes met, and he asked softly, "Ready for what I promised?"

"I've been thinking about it non-stop," Y/N admitted, her voice tinged with excitement and nerves.

Taehyun stepped closer, his voice a low rumble, "I hope you're ready for a night you won't forget."

As they retreated from the world outside, Taehyun led Y/N to his dressing room, a private sanctuary amidst the chaos of the concert venue. The moment the door closed behind them, he pinned her against it, reigniting their fiery connection with a fierce kiss.

Expertly locking the door with one hand, he gripped her waist with the other, lifting her effortlessly. His movements were bold, bringing them closer, their mutual moans filling the space between them. His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of heat as he carried her to the couch, ensuring she was seated comfortably in his lap, her movements against him increasingly fervent.

Y/N’s skirt, a convenient choice, allowed Taehyun easy access. He cupped her bottom, delivering a sharp, resonating smack that sent shivers down her spine, drawing out a mix of surprise and pleasure from her.

“Did you like that?” he teased, delivering another firm smack, his voice a low growl, “I want to see this turn a beautiful shade of red just for me.”

Her response was a whimpered yes, her body responding instinctively to his touch, hips rolling in rhythm with his.

He continued, his tone playful yet intense, “You’re like a little puppy, aren’t you?”

As he spoke, his free hand deftly removed her crop top, revealing her bare chest. “No bra? I’m impressed,” he murmured, his eyes taking in the sight of her with an appreciative lick of his lips.

Feeling emboldened, Y/N tugged at his shirt, her eyes asking the question her voice couldn’t quite manage. “Want this off?” Taehyun asked, to which she nodded eagerly. He obliged, removing his shirt, bringing them chest to chest, their skin tingling at the contact.

Taehyun leaned in, his voice husky, “I want you to cum right here, on my leg, like the good girl you are. Then, we’ll move on to the main event.”

Driven by his words, Y/N shifted her lingerie aside, increasing the tempo of her movements against his thigh. Taehyun sat back, his hands firmly guiding her hips, his gaze locked onto hers, filled with a potent mixture of desire and admiration.

As Y/N reached her climax, her body quivering, she cried out Taehyun’s name, a testament to the overwhelming sensation coursing through her. His leather trousers bore the evidence of her release, now glossed in the aftermath of her passion.

Breathing heavily, Taehyun pulled Y/N into a deep, consuming kiss, his voice filled with pride, “You did so well, such a good girl. Now, you’re ready for your reward.”

Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. They were about to cross a threshold, stepping into a realm where their desires and fantasies would become one. The intensity of the moment was palpable, a mixture of excitement and anticipation hanging in the air.

Taehyun whispered against her lips, “Are you ready for what comes next?”

Y/N nodded, her breath hitching in her throat, “Yes, I’ve never been more ready.”

He smiled, a mixture of tenderness and mischief, “Then let’s not waste any more time.”

As they continued, their connection deepened, each touch and kiss a testament to the unspoken bond they shared. It was more than just physical attraction; it was an understanding, a meeting of minds and bodies that transcended the ordinary.

Their conversation turned to whispers, soft declarations interspersed with heated exchanges. Taehyun’s hands explored Y/N’s body with a reverence that spoke volumes, each caress a promise of more to come.

Y/N, lost in the moment, responded with equal fervor, her hands tracing the contours of Taehyun’s body, committing every detail to memory. Their movements were a dance, a perfect synchrony that seemed to defy the chaos of the world outside.

As they moved together, their world narrowed to the space they occupied, a bubble of passion and intimacy that shielded them from everything else. It was a moment of pure connection, a celebration of the feelings that had simmered between them for so long.

Taehyun’s voice was a constant in her ear, encouraging, guiding, expressing his own desires and admiration for her. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/N’s response was a soft moan, her words lost in the intensity of the moment. Her heart raced, her mind filled with nothing but Taehyun and the overwhelming sensations he evoked within her. As they continued their passionate encounter, Taehyun removed his leather pants and boxers, his movements fluid and purposeful. He then had Y/N stand, gracefully removing her lingerie while deliberately leaving her skirt on, a playful preference he expressed with a mischievous grin.

Returning to his lap, Y/N felt him ease into her, the sensation overwhelming as he began to move with her. Taehyun sat back, admiring the view as her hips bounced rhythmically. His hands found her ass again, smacking sharply then squeezing, eliciting a mix of pleasure and surprise from Y/N.

"Yes, just like that," Taehyun encouraged, guiding her movements to match his increasingly fervent pace.

Y/N, caught up in the intensity, called out his name, her fingers entwining in his hair, pulling him closer.

In a swift, fluid motion, they changed positions. Y/N found herself bent over in front of him, her skirt lifted. Taehyun remarked on the reddening shade of her skin, a visual testament to their passionate play, as he continued to move against her, his smacks rhythmic and insistent.

Spotting a body-length mirror in front of them, Taehyun suggested, "Watch us. See how good you look." Y/N's response was a series of moans, her eyes capturing their reflections in the mirror, a visual amplification of their fervor.

"You're so beautiful like this," Taehyun breathed, his voice laced with desire. "I've wanted this for so long."

Y/N replied breathlessly, "Me too... I've dreamt of this moment."

Their pace quickened as Taehyun neared his climax. Pulling Y/N up so her back was pressed against his chest, he whispered a warning of his closeness. The new angle intensified everything for Y/N, causing her to cry out, her eyes closing in bliss.

One of Taehyun's hands remained on her hip, while the other ventured to her most sensitive areas, pushing her over the edge. Her voice rang out, calling his name loudly as she shuddered.

He chuckled softly, even as he smacked her bottom again, "You're so loud, but I'm no better," he admitted, his voice deepening as he reached his own climax.

After a moment of stillness, Taehyun's hands gently stroked Y/N's body, both of them catching their breath. He then continued their movements for a few more seconds before collapsing onto the couch, both panting heavily.

Taehyun admired the marks he left on her, a faint smile playing on his lips as he tenderly pulled her skirt down. Then, drawing her close, they shared a moment of silence, simply enjoying the aftermath of their intense connection.

After spending a few more moments on the couch, Taehyun stood up to find something to clean themselves with. He returned with a handful of tissues and a warm, damp cloth. They helped each other clean up, a comfortable silence enveloping them.

Spotting a T-shirt emblazoned with the logo of one of his favorite bands, Taehyun handed it to Y/N, suggesting she wear it instead of her crop top. He then changed into his casual clothes, a sense of normalcy slowly returning after the storm of passion they had shared.

Fully dressed, Taehyun looked at Y/N with a soft smile, "We should do this more often," he proposed, his voice a mix of earnestness and mischief.

Y/N nodded, a blush colouring her cheeks, "I would like that," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Taehyun then guided her out of the backstage area, ensuring they wouldn't attract unwanted attention. As they waited for her taxi, Taehyun pulled her close for another kiss, a promise lingering in the air between them.

"Next time, let's find a more comfortable place," he murmured against her lips.

As the taxi pulled up, Y/N stepped inside, turning to give Taehyun one last look. He watched her leave, a contented smile on his face.

Returning inside, Taehyun was immediately met by Yeonjun's knowing look. "So, a little rendezvous with a fan, huh?" Yeonjun teased, an eyebrow raised inquisitively.

Taehyun shrugged nonchalantly, trying to maintain a casual demeanor. "Just helping out a fan," he said, his tone light but his cheeks betraying him with a slight flush.

Yeonjun laughed, clapping Taehyun on the back. "Sure, sure, just 'helping out'. Just be careful, alright?"

Taehyun nodded, appreciating the concern beneath Yeonjun's teasing. "I know what I'm doing," he assured his bandmate.

As they walked towards the rest of the band, Yeonjun continued to rib Taehyun, "So, are we expecting a new 'special' fan at our next concert?"

Taehyun smiled, a distant look in his eyes, "Maybe. Who knows?"

The conversation turned to their usual banter as they rejoined the band, but Taehyun's thoughts remained partly with Y/N. The connection they had shared was unexpected but undeniable. He found himself looking forward to their next encounter, wondering how it would unfold.

#tomorrow x together #txt #txt x reader #txt x y/n #txt x you #txt x fem reader #kang taehyun x reader #taehyun x y/n #taehyun x you #txt taehyun #taehyun x reader #taehyun imagines #taehyun smut #kang taehyun #taehyun #taehyun txt #fanfiction #fanfic

[im-a-writer-sometimes]

Thank You, Doctor (Miguel O’Hara - Part 4/4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: violence (like icky ewy game of thrones violence at the end there), language, general unaddressed trauma idk

🕷

If Sam noticed you were quiet the next morning, he didn't mention it. He simply ate the waffle you brought him, occasionally flicking his eyes over to you. After a while, the silence had apparently grated him enough to move him to conversation.

“You never told me how you landed here,” he said around a bite of waffle, drawing your eyes towards him.

You sat down on the end of a bed, watching him eat. “I was never supposed to be born.”

“What does that mean?”

“My father was what they call a jumper, and he knocked up my mom in a universe other than his own, leaving my DNA split between two different universes.”

He took another bite, considering you. “I don’t see how that’s your fault.”

You shrugged. “It’s not, but my universe was collapsing because of me, so…”

“So you came here,” he finished.

“Came is a nice word for it.”

“You were taken like me,” he said, and you stood from the bed.

“We don’t need to talk about this,” you said, beginning to prep your station.

Sam stood, dropping his empty food container in the trash can right beside you. “Do you ever think they’re lying to us?” he asked, his voice dipped into a whisper.

You went still. “I—I don’t know. I saw my universe glitching. I could feel it collapsing.”

“And have you seen it since then?”

After no response, Sam quietly slipped out, leaving you to your work. His words kept turning over and over in your mind, and every spider that came through that day was met with a distant-eyed, little-spoken Y/n, a sight none of them had encountered before.

Were you mad at Miguel? Yes, because he’d spoken thoughtlessly, perhaps unveiling some unconscious belief he still needed to unravel on his own. But to think the man that had done something so soft as carrying you to your room and bookmarking your book after you’d fallen asleep was in charge of some multiversal fascist regime, using a fabricated conception of the universe to blind people to his own abuse of power was—

No. That wasn’t right.

“Can we talk?”

You didn’t turn around at the voice that sounded behind you. The med bay was empty save for you, but it still felt wrong having this conversation in public.

“About what?” you asked, still facing the counter, not turning to face Miguel.

“About what you said last night,” he said, before tacking on, “And what I said.”

“What is there to talk about?”

“You don’t owe me anything, Y/n,” he started and you could feel him stepping closer. “I’ve never believed that you have, and—I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. Neither of you are prisoners, except maybe of your own circumstances. While you are here, you can do as you please.”

You still didn’t turn.

“We begin clearing out the lower-threat anomalies at the end of the week. Sending them back to their own universes,” he said. “You know you aren’t low threat, but I’ll give you the option to go.”

“What?”

“I believe you’ll choose right in the end,” he said. “But you’re right. It’s your universe, not mine. I shouldn’t have robbed you of your right to choose.”

You slowly turned around, finding him once again standing in a t-shirt and sweatpants instead of his suit. He didn’t look like he’d slept a wink.

“You’re telling me—I can leave?”

He nodded. “Staying is also an option. But it’s up to you.”

“And what about the inevitable collapse of my universe?”

He looked down at the ground, bringing his hands to his hips. “You’ll have time once you return. Time to see for yourself. Decide for yourself.”

“And if I leave and decide to come back?”

“You will still have a place here,” he said, and without a response from you, he nodded once and turned to leave.

“Miguel,” you said, taking a few steps towards him. He paused, looking at you over his shoulder. “Thank you.”

He looked you over once before nodding again, stepping out of the med bay and leaving you to quell the two worlds now colliding within you. You looked around at the space around you—too big. It seemed to swallow you whole. Was this just another trick?

🕷

It was two days later—the end of the week approaching—when Lyla appeared before him at his station with a wide smile.

“Guess what?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Don’t remember programming any guessing games.”

“You’ll want to play this one,” she said.

He rolled his eyes. “What is it?”

“I’ve found the Jumper,” she said, and Miguel only blinked at her.

“You found his trace?”

Lyla shook her head. “I found him. He’s been in the same universe for the last two weeks.”

Miguel glanced towards the door, imagining the stretch of the med bay just beyond and the woman currently pacing its floor. He looked back at Lyla with a nod. “Full alert,” he said. “I want every spider on base in the Jumper’s universe pronto.”

🕷

Sam stepped into the med bay long before his shift, ten minutes or so after the entire base had been cleared out—save for a few spiders to guard the prisoners, far off from the med bay. 

Miguel had come to say goodbye before he left, and you could tell simply by the rigid tilt of his back and the apologetic look in his eyes that he was going after your father.

“I thought you could use some company,” said Sam, sitting on one of the beds at your station. “Seeing as this is likely the calm before the storm.”

You nodded, not turning to face him fully. You couldn’t—not when you’d been given the option to leave, and he hadn’t. Or maybe he had, and he was withholding it from you for the same reason. 

“Have you always worn that?’ he asked, nodding his head towards your wrist. You looked down at your wristband, furrowing your brows as you met his eyes.

“Since I got here, yes,” you said. “You felt how painful it is to glitch.”

“Have you? Glitched, I mean,” he asked.

You shook your head, turning back towards your station.

“Odd,” he said. “Considering you are supposedly an anomaly. Figures you would have spent your whole life glitching in and out in your own universe.”

“It wasn’t really mine,” you said, turning to face him. “Do you have a point?”

He did, and it was the pointed end of a scalpel coming down on your wrist, severing your wristband and letting it fall to the floor.

“What are you doing? Are you insane?” 

You lunged for the scalpel, but he dodged your reach, stepping away and leaving a chasm of space between you as you—didn’t glitch. You felt no different at all. 

“And if I do it—” he started, before slicing off his own wristband. You called out, taking a step closer as he began to glitch in and out.

“You’re different, Y/n,” he said, as his body became shapeless, jumping between forms. “Someone like you shouldn’t exist.”

“Someone like me?” you asked, voice on the verge of breaking. “Please, Sam, just—let’s find another wristband, we can—”

“Someone who is made up of more universes than one,” he continued, his voice distorted and strange. “Someone who can exist in any of them.” And then for a heart stopping moment, he coalesced back into his own shape, long enough to offer a sickly-sharp smile. “You’re welcome, kid.”

🕷

It was quiet. Too quiet. Usually, if Miguel caught the tail end of one of the Jumper’s escapades, the dimension was in chaos as he liked it. But this was a simple, peaceful universe, with nothing more than a light flickering on and off in the Jumper’s window.

“You’re sure he’s here?” he asked as he swung up onto the building, landing outside the window. 

“I’ve never felt a trace so strong,” said Lyla, and he glanced inside, seeing nothing more than a messy apartment. A few other spiders had jumped with him, even more coming up through the stairwell, even more keeping watch around the building to make sure everything went smoothly.

Miguel shook his head. “Something’s not right,” he said, before slowly easing open the window and slipping inside. 

He smelled it first. As did the rest of the spiders trailing in behind him, covering their noses at the stench of decay. 

“God, who died?” snapped one of them, and Miguel began combing through the apartment, stepping into the kitchen and pausing his step.

“The Jumper,” he said, finding the man’s body laid out on the floor. 

“Was he killed?” asked one of the spider’s, and Lyla appeared above the body, shaking her head.

“This can’t be right,” she said. “I felt his trace for certain. And there’s no sign of death.” She flickered out and appeared again on the other side of the body, scanning it. “It’s like he was never even alive.”

“Boss!” came the voice of a spider still in the living room and Miguel stepped away, finding a book in the spider’s hand. He grabbed it, scanning the cover. The Gentleman’s Guide to Astral Projection. He looked up at the spider, and she gestured to a stack of books on the table. He stepped closer, thumbing through the titles.

How the Demons Do It: A How-To Guide to Possession

The Multiverse Within Each of Us

The Mutable Physics of Personhood

Unhappy With Your Own Body? Steal Someone Else’s!

“O’Hara!” came a voice from another room, and he left the books, stepping into what must have been the Jumper’s bedroom. The walls were lined with photos and madly-scrawled notes—so many that Miguels’ eyes could barely catch on one.

“Look at this,” said the spider, and he came up to the far wall, following the spider’s gaze to a picture and a various set of IDs. He blinked. Blinked again. They were for one Dr. Sam Eddard. “I think the Jumper found himself a new ride.”

“No,” he said, “That’s not—”

“—the worst part,” finished the spider, gesturing to the entire right wall. The wall Miguel had somehow not even noticed. Hundreds of pictures. 

Of you. 

Just you. 

And a note in the middle he ripped down—the key to multiversal travel? no singular universe’s DNA; can exist in any (and destroy any?).

“I don’t think Sam Eddard is his final destination,” said the spider, and Miguel’s heart went still in his chest.

“This was a trap,” he breathed, taking in all of the spiders currently combing through the apartment. All of the spiders. Away from base. It was a split second before the note was fluttering out his hand and he was stepping—no, running—through a portal.

🕷

You don’t think you’d ever run so fast in your life. Sam—your father—whoever he was, was nothing more than a blocky, multicolor glitch of a person as he tailed you, but somehow that made him faster.

“This is your destiny, Y/n,” he called after you. “You can’t run from it.”

“Watch me,” you said, skirting to a stop inside Miguel’s control room. You looked around for something—anything—to use as a weapon as Sam stepped through, finally settling back into his own shape.

“I’m the reason you exist,” he said. “You owe me this.”

“I don’t think you understand the concept of fatherhood,” you answered, trying and failing to yank a metal bar off a piece of shelving, feeling him drawing closer.

“Do you know how long I had to wait?” he asked. “Wait until you’d grown, wait until I’d figured out this body jumping bullshit.”

“Terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” you said, finally managing to rip a slender iron pipe free, leveling it out before you as a warning.

“And then when I finally find my way back to your mother’s universe,” he shook his head, laughing. “You’re gone. Snatched up by a horde of spiders.”

“Lucky me,” you said, before swinging the pipe out, narrowly missing his head. 

“Are you really happy here?” he asked, dodging another blow. “Think of it as me taking your life off your hands.”

“Oh, well when you put it like that.” And then you lunged, iron pipe suspended between your hands as you crashed down on top of him. His head ricocheted from the pipe to the floor to the pipe again, and he kicked out beneath you, sending you tumbling.

When you regained your senses, he had jumped on top of you, pinning you to the ground.

“You’re not getting anything for father’s day,” you said, kicking out your feet enough to leave him unstable for a moment, but not enough to get him off you.

And then he started chanting. 

“Is that fucking Latin?” you asked, squirming beneath him. 

He continued, eyes distant, not focused on anything at all. As he chanted, the edges of his form glitching in and out, there was a moment where you blinked and found yourself staring down at your own body, falling limper and limper beneath Sam’s hold.

You couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t call out and beg your body to keep fighting. You could only watch.

You saw the flash of orange light cast sinister angles around the room before you saw the portal, and by the time Miguel had stepped through, you were back in your body with a sharp gasp. 

He’d ripped Sam off of you in the matter of a second, tossing him across the floor like a rag-doll. He spared you one glance—chest heaving, teeth bared—before he launched himself off his haunches and directly on top of Sam.

“Yep, I see the half spider part now,” you said, kicking your feet against the floor to get as far from the fight as you could. You braced yourself against the nearest wall, watching as Sam clawed back at Miguel, something so desperately futile in the way he fought, his face already wrenched with defeat.

But he was holding Miguel off. He wouldn’t keep him at bay for long, but perhaps, just as long as he needed. Because, with Miguel on top of him, he started chanting again.

“No,” you said, crawling closer. “Shut him up. He’s trying to—”

But Miguel couldn’t hear you, he was too invested in landing blow after blow, ignoring the Latin curses whispered in between each one. You looked around, reaching for the iron pipe still rolling on the floor beside you.

It was another adrenaline moment, one you’d never be able to describe in detail. You thought you could remember shouting a warning. You could vaguely see Miguel ducking out of the way. But the image of driving an iron pipe down into your father’s skull was one you’d never forget.

It stopped the chanting.

You and Miguel barely had a chance to glance at each other before portals started opening up all around you, the flickering orange light making it seem like the room was slowly burning. In a lot of ways, it was.

🕷

“Follow the light,” said Miguel, waving a flashlight in your eyes.

“I don’t have a concussion,” you said. “You have bruised knuckles and possibly a broken rib, but I am absolutely fine.”

He clicked off the light, simply staring at you, the both of you sat on your own bed in your own room. He’d wanted to take you to the med bay, but you quietly admitted you couldn’t stand being around all the spiders who’d just witnessed the aftermath of you killing your father. Or, at least, the body your father was in.

Miguel shook his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t know. I can’t believe I played right into his hands.”

“He had a long time to plan this,” you said.

“And I’ve had a long time to catch him.” He stood up from his spot beside you, running a hand through his hair. “He would have stolen your body and disappeared without a trace.”

“Is it true?” you asked. “About me being immune to all the glitching?”

He shrugged. “I’m ashamed to say I didn’t even think about you when we picked you up,” he said. “All I knew was that your universe was collapsing, and you were at the center of it. If I stopped to think, I would have realized the lack of glitching was strange. But I didn’t.”

“So, I was right,” you said.

He pulled back the curtain on your window, looking down at the view below. “I was so caught up in my mission to save the multiverse, that I forgot it was made up of people.” He looked back at you, stiff shoulders falling at the sight of your soft, kind eyes watching him. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” you said, before looking down at your lap. “Is your offer still on the table?”

He blinked at you for a moment. “What?”

“To go home,” you said, lifting your eyes to his. He could’ve broken down right there, but his swallowed whatever words threatened to come out and simply nodded.

You smiled before looking back down at your lap. “I’d like to go home, Miguel.”

🕷

Epilogue

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction

[eldritch-thrumming]

i made this silly little post and then just did the thing myself :)

“I would say that Steve is… relatively smart. For a human.”

“Hey!” comes an irritated yell from the other room.

Robin turns to face the doorway, turning away from the camera. “Zip it, human! I’m doing my interviews. I have important things to say. People are very interested.” She turns back toward the camera again, a smile plastered to her face. “Now, what was I saying? Oh right, Steve. He’s… passably intelligent. I mean, he’s no Einstein, that’s for sure. That guy could party.” She laughs.

“Okay, and how long has Steve, uh, been with you guys?” Dustin asks from behind the camera.

“Um, maybe a year, I think?”

“I’ve been Eddie’s familiar for ten years,” Steve grumbles as he comes into the room with a cup of tea, which he holds out for Robin to take. He turns to Dustin and the camera. “It’s really just a matter of time before he turns me.” He rocks back on his heels. “He said literally any day now.”

Robin smiles placidly, nodding at him until he leaves the room.

“Between you and me,” she stage whispers to Dustin, “Eddie is never turning him.”

“Could you explain what a familiar is?” Dustin asks.

“Well… usually a familiar takes care of you, you know, does the cleaning, shopping, finds you victims.”

“Victims?” Will, another one of the producers, asks. He looks a little anxiously toward Lucas, the camera guy, who does his best to ignore it.

“Yeah, like. Food. You know.” Robin takes a sip from her teacup, waving her free hand in some vague gesture. “Nancy and I are partial to virgins.”

“Uh, right. Better watch out, Dustin,” Lucas laughs a little nervously, nudging Dustin with his elbow.

Dustin scowls, but before he can respond, Robin says, “Don’t worry. Nancy’s forbidden us from eating any of you.” She smiles again, like that’s supposed to make them feel any better.

~*~

“Okay, Steve, can you tell us a little bit about yourself?” Dustin asks Steve, who’s fidgeting on the couch.

Steve pulls at his collar as he answers. “Uh, sure. I used to be a kindergarten teacher. I actually really loved it? But then I met Eddie at a bar. Thought he was, uh, pulling my leg, you know, about the whole…” Steve rubs his palms on his thighs. “Vampire thing? Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Yeah, being a vampire. Sure,” Dustin responds.

“Right. Thought he was joking. Thought it was a line, you know. So I… this is kind of embarrassing.” Steve scratches at his cheek. “Well, I went home with him, y’know. You’ve seen him.” He laughs a little nervously. “Anyway, I found out that he actually was not lying, much to my… absolute horror really.”

“And… what made you stay?” Will asks.

“I dunno,” Steve shrugs his shoulders, eyes darting to the side of the camera, like he doesn’t really want to answer the question. “It’s an interesting prospect, isn’t it? Living forever? Being immortal?” He shrugs again.

“So,” Dustin starts, drawing out the ‘o’ sound. “Are you guys, like… more than friends?” Lucas visibly cringes at the phrasing.

Steve laughs, bright and surprised. “Uh, no. No. Just, uh. I’m just his familiar.”

“But you’ve been here ten years?“ The way the question comes out of Will’s mouth makes it sound like he hadn’t really meant to ask it. Dustin cuts him a look, scowling again.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, looking down at his lap. “Yeah, I have.”

~*~

“Tell us about how you became a vampire,” Dustin says.

Eddie, who’s sitting on the couch in front of the camera, scratches at his neck, just under the collar of his shirt. “Hmm. I was turned in the 80s. Can’t really remember most of it. Was at some concert and some guy offered me some coke or something in the back of his van. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a field feeling like shit. Thought I’d had a bad trip.” Eddie laughs.

“And have you ever turned anyone?” Will asks.

“No,” Eddie tells them, frowning slightly. “Don’t think I’d even know how.”

“But—“ Will starts, but Lucas digs his elbow into his ribs, cutting off his question.

“What about Steve?” Dustin asks instead.

“What about him?”

“He said he’s been with you ten years. That you’ve promised to turn him any day now.”

Eddie smiles, boyish and sweet. “Well. I say a lot of things. And look at him. Who’d give that up?”

Will and Dustin look at each other. “What do you mean?” It’s Lucas who asks this time.

“A pretty little human who does anything I say based on the abstract promise that I might one day make him a vampire?” Eddie grins.

Next to Dustin, Will lets out a long exhale.

#I tried to put a read more on this on mobile but I’m still so confused I’m really sorry!!!! i really tried but it didn’t work in my drafts #I’m sorry :( :( :( I will try again next time I know this sucks I’m scared to post bc I can’t do dumb basic shit on this stupid fucking app #bc I’m so fuckin dumb I’m sorry #steddie #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #steddie blurb #what we do in the shadows Steddie au lolololol #i didn’t know what else to say so it ends at the most awkward place ever but will wants Justice for Steve looololl #I’m not really funny enough to pull off this au but I tried lol #wwdits steddie au

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 26/?

Prev | Next

The first back-to-school meeting happened a month after school started. Jason decided to attend. He wanted to be on top of Danny’s education and ensure everything went smoothly. Parents were encouraged to bring in snacks for the kids.

Jason made chocolate chip cookies. He even made gluten and nut-free ones in case any of the kiddos were allergic.

He entered the school with the cookies and sat them on a table, making sure the labels were correct. Danny ran off to find his friends. Jason smiled. He was glad his son had people to talk to.

Jason turned around and came face-to-face with a blond woman. She was in her mid-thirties and wore a prim suit. She wore a pearl necklace. Three more women dressed similarly were behind her. She looked Jason up and down. He had worn his best pair of jeans, a clean T-shirt, and a leather jacket.

“Hello, my name is Avril Dubois. I’m the president of the PTA. I’ve never seen you here before, are you lost?”

Jason gritted his teeth at her question while she and her cronies laughed.

“No, my name is Jason Nightingale. I’m Danny Nightingale’s father. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said while putting out his hand. Avril ignored the hand and gave a look of distaste at it. So what if he still had grease under his nails? Her ignoring the handshake was rude.

“Right, I’ve heard about Danny from my little girl. Where’s his mother,” she asked while looking around. Wow, nosy much?

“She died while giving birth to him. It’s just me, Danny, my sister, and my niece.”

“That poor boy doesn’t know the touch of a mother’s love. It must be hard for you, especially since you’re so…young,” she sneered at the word young.

Judgmental to boot, she was the whole package.

“Don’t worry, I give my son enough love for two people.”

“Still, being a single must be tough. Well, I’ll talk to you later. Or maybe not. Ta-ta.”

Jason was glad to see the women leave.

He looked for Danny and saw him talking to a group of kids. Jason smiled once more, feeling how happy Danny was, which made Jason feel so much better about his decision to send him to school.

“Say goodbye for now, Danny. The assembly is about to start, then we can go to your classroom, and you can show me around.”

“Okay, daddy. Bye guys, see you later.”

Jason sat through the meeting assembly. It was a bit boring, but he was glad to see how the school operated. Danny was busy playing with a 6x6 Rubik’s cube. After the assembly, Jason went to Danny’s classroom, where he officially met the teacher.

Mrs. Duma was a friendly, middle-aged teacher who had been teaching for seventeen years. She spoke about how well-behaved and smart Danny was. His best subject was math, and Mrs. Duma had to print 12th-grade-level worksheets to keep him entertained. Well, that made sense.

 Jason couldn’t help but preen at the compliments Danny got.

Then Avril Dubois came up.

“Mrs. Duma, it’s nice to see you again.”

“Mrs. Dubois, what a pleasure to have you as a parent to one of my students again,” Mrs. Duma said through clenched teeth. Aw, it wasn’t just Jason who didn’t like the woman.”

“Excuse me,” Jason left the two women and looked for his little boy. He was showing a little blonde girl with glasses his Rubik's cube.

“Daddy, this is my friend, Sarah.”

“Hello, Sarah, I’m Danny’s dad, Jason.”

“Hi,” the little girl said shyly.

“Wanna see our drawings, daddy?”

Danny showed Jason his paintings. They were good. Then he showed them the models he had built. He knew his little boy was talented with his hands, but some of the things he had built looked very advanced. Hmm, maybe Jason should invest in buying Danny more things to build.

Seeing the models, he knew Danny would love working on the car with him.

“Mommy, look what I drew,” Jason looked up to see Sarah talking to Avril. The little girl was being ignored by her mom as she talked to a group of moms. Now that Jason paid attention, the little girl looked like a miniature version of Avril. The poor girl was shooed away from her mom without getting any acknowledgment.

His heart went out to her.

Danny went to Sarah, “Is everything okay,” he asked.

“Yeah,” the little girl answered, “mommy is just busy.”

“Can I see,” Jason asked. The little girl brightened at having an adult’s attention. It was a good painting.

“Wow, kiddo, that looks great!”

The little girl smiled, showing her missing teeth.

“Sarah, what have I told you about speaking to strangers?”

Avril took her little girl’s hand, ignoring the squeak of surprise she gave.

“Listen, I don’t know what your game is or how you were able to put your child in this school, but I would appreciate it if you don’t speak to my child.”

“Lady, Danny is Sarah’s friend. He was introducing me to her. Maybe if you paid more attention to your child, she wouldn’t be talking to strangers.”

The woman honest to God clutched her pearls, “How dare you? Come, Sarah.”

“Bye, Danny,” the little girl said while being dragged along.

“Is everything okay, daddy?”

“Yeah, ignore her. She’s a b—not a nice person.”

Thankfully, the rest of the parents weren’t like Avril and her little clique. They all seemed to welcome Jason.

At the end of the meeting, Jason went to sign up for the PTA.

“Are you sure you want to do this,” the woman scoffed, “We meet every two weeks. I’m sure you’re busy doing other things. We also engage with the school and teachers. Fundraisers, school activities, things like that.”

Jason smiled at the woman as he signed his name, “When’s the first meeting?”

Jason had a new nemesis. Her name? Avril Dubois.

Someone suggested that Jason has a PTA-style rivalry, but I cannot for the life of me find the comment to give the credit. So, to whoever suggested this, thank you! Anyway, now that we have Avril, does anyone want to see anything between the rivalry between the two?

@itsberrydreemurstuff @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon @all-mights-asscheeks @ender-reader @fuyu-bitch @ravenswife

#Mending a Family #dc x dp #dp x dc

[vera-king-hrfl]

I'll just leave this here. The whole chapter will be posted tomorrow.

Tav gets a lesson on tiefling anatomy, and Rolan gets off. This is just a snippet.

Please forgive me if my tiefling biology isn't completely canon. I was rolling with it.

He sighs sharply, a shaky sound, and then swallows, wide yellow eyes still searching your face. “Really? I have that effect on you? But… well… I suppose I had better give you another demonstration then, hadn’t I?” His expression firms, and he sets his own cup down decisively, sweeping you into his arms and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is searing, powerful, and you moan as his tongue dances against yours, pushing your hands up into his hair as his beautiful hands clutch at you, roving your body, kneading and caressing you. He’s also trimmed his claws, you notice dimly, feeling his fingertips dig into your back. There isn’t anything he can do about his teeth though, and those little points prick your lips and tongue delightfully as you pull the leather tie from his carefully coiffed hair and let it fall around your faces. The hardness is back between his legs, nudging you through the layers of robes, and there’s a particular rumbling in his chest. You are lost in the sound and smell and taste of him when your fingers brush against the base of his horns and his whimper into your mouth sounds almost like pain. Simultaneously, his tail jerks, hitting one of the cups on the table and sending it crashing into the wall. You gasp and draw back, eyes wide and fearful that you’ve done something inappropriate.

 He takes a deep breath with a beatific smile and sighs before opening his eyes. Seeing your expression, he instantly looks contrite. “I’m sorry, did I frighten you? It has a mind of its own sometimes.”

 You blink at him, then the realization dawns. He means his tail. “Oh, no, I thought I… I didn’t know if it was alright to touch your horns. I’ve been trying not to. Did that hurt you?”

 He chuckles softly, “no, quite the opposite. I’m just very sensitive there. It felt good, believe me. Your hands are wonderful.” He looks at you thoughtfully for a moment. “I should have asked earlier… have you ever been with a tiefling before? Like this, I mean. Intimately.”

 You shake your head, ”no, never. But I’ll do anything you like and avoid whatever bothers you. You may just have to show me. I know… some tieflings don’t like their horns touched. Is that just like, by strangers, or in public? Or are you a special case? I know a certain lady who likes to smack people with her tail, but she almost murdered the last person who grabbed it. I’m actually very curious, but I didn’t want to make you self-conscious.”

 He grins, flashing the points of his teeth. “Hmmm very well. I will give you a brief anatomy lesson then. But I think I’ll have to take off some of these clothes. Perhaps you should join me. So I don’t feel self-conscious, of course.” He steps back and reaches for the tie on the side of his robe, and you blush, but do the same with a little smile. He’d already seen almost all of you anyway that morning on the beach. You slip out of your robe and decide to rid yourself of the under tunic as well, and soon you’re standing before him in only the breast binding and knee length linen knickers that you were wearing when he found you on the beach. He pulls off his own robe and unlaces his shirt collar before dragging it over his head, his hands guiding the fabric over his horns. Both garments join yours in a growing pile on the floor. He kicks off his sandals and, in only his breeches and belt now, goes to sit on the blankets, patting the spot beside him. “Let the lesson begin.”

#rolan bg3 #nsft #baldur's gate 3 #holy rolan empire #rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #rolan fanfic #rolan nation #rolan x tav

[llvmos]

"Hi, could you make a fic where Dalton lambert where he teaches the reader to draw, and one of these days she draws a drawing of him"

This was requested by @daltonshotgf!

A/n: I finally finished this even though it took forever. I decided to make this multiple parts just so i could include the progress of the readers drawing ability. Im thinking maybe this will be 3-4 parts but im not entirely sure. (I dont own any gifs used in my fics)

Warnings: gn!reader (but reader is Chris' roommate), use of y/n, i think thats it.

Word count: 1.6k

!Not proofread!

I’ll teach you. — Dalton Lambert

Everyday, you would let yourself into Dalton’s dorm while he was at class and wait for him to come back to his dorm.

This wasn’t a new thing. Ever since you and Dalton met, due to you being Chris’ new roommate, you guys instantly connected and its like you had known each other for forever. Since Chris still had the key to Dalton dorm from when they were roomed together, she would let you borrow it if you ever wanted to.

You started coming over before he got back from class so now he just expects you to be there. If you aren’t at his dorm when he gets home from school, he will text you and ask where you are. It has become a routine in which you both follow.

Today, Dalton gets back to his dorm from class at 3:15. So, following routine, you let yourself into his dorm at 2:45, 30 minutes before he gets back.

You try to find ways to entertain yourself. Playing on your phone, listening to music, watching Netflix, but everything bored you out so quickly.

You look around his dorm and noticed the clothes, papers, and artwork scattered everywhere around his room.

You let out an audible sigh as you stand up and start to pickup the clothes and set them in his laundry hamper, pick up the papers and set them on his desk, and organize his artwork, notably because cautious of the not yet dry painting of what looks to be a door.

You start to pick up the various drawings and take a look at each one. You notice his pattern of his drawings being people. Specifically, people that are important to him. As you flip through the drawings, you recognize his mom, brother, and his grandma, all of which you’ve seen in pictures and other drawings that are hanging above his bed.

You notice the immense amount of detail Dalton has put into these drawings. It seems as though he had thoughtfully placed each and every freckle and eyelash.

While you look at the drawings, you cant help but wish that you could’ve been blessed with such talent.

You continue to admire the drawings when you hear the door of the dorm open.

“I’m back.” Dalton states as he sets down his portfolio as he shuts the door.

“I see that.” You respond, as you set the sketches down on his desks.

Dalton looks around his room, noticing the cleanliness of his room. You see him looking around, looking a bit confused.

“I got bored here alone so i cleaned your room for you, like the good friend i am”

“And somehow you manage to make my room look better than when I clean it. ” He chuckles a little as he sits on his bed, looking at you still picking up random things off the floor.

“That’s not very hard to do, Dalton.” You say with a sarcastic tone.

“Well, if you enjoy cleaning my room for me, be my guest. Less work for me.”

You continue cleaning as you think about how good his drawings are. Part of you wants to ask him to teach you but you think he probably doesn’t have the time for that. You look at him and notice that hes on his phone, probably texting Chris.

“How did you learn to draw so well?” You ask, suddenly.

“I don’t know. I guess i just practiced and overtime it got better. I used to draw a lot when I was little.”

You pick up the last shirt and set it in the hamper. Then, you go to sit on what used to be Chris’ bed.

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to draw, but I think with my lack of talent, im hopeless.”

“You’re not hopeless…maybe.”

You fake gasp as you walk over to him and sit down next to him on his bed.

“I’m so very offended.”

“I don’t know why. You said you were hopeless first.” He looks back at you with a slight smile on his face.

You look at him as you back track on the conversation.

“I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes. You did.”

“Oh. Well what i’m trying to get at is if you will teach me how to draw.”

He looks you and acts like he is thinking about it, when really he would want nothing more than to teach you one of the things he loves doing most.

“Mmm. Sure.”

You’re heart jumps as you think about him teaching you.

“Really?”

“Yeah, ill teach you. You don’t seem too hopeless.”

You roll your eyes at him before he continues.

“You want to start now? I don’t have anything to do for a while.”

“Yes, yes.” You say quickly, sounding almost too eager.

He grabs his sketch book and sits down on the ground. You follow after him.

As he starts explaining drawing and art to you, you start to notice all the light freckles that scatter his nose, one freckle that is placed below his right eye appearing slightly darker.

You notice the way his hair falls in front of his face when he looks down at his sketchbook.

You notice the way his lips move when he talks.

You notice how he smiles when he talks about one of the things he most passionate about.

But what you didn’t notice is that he had asked you something.

“You got all that?” He looks back up at you from his sketch book.

You look down at his paper and see that he has some sort of shape that resembles somebodies jawline.

“Yeah…” You say with an unsure tone of voice.

“You didn’t draw anything.” He looks down at the piece of paper he handed you and sees its still blank.

In fact, you didn’t even realize he had given you a piece of paper.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” You grab the pencil you had next to you and try to copy what he has on his paper, but no where near matching it.

He looks at the paper you had drawn on and sighs as he looks at the 3 lines you had drawn.

“Okay, lets try something different.” He says as he goes to sit next to you instead of across from you.

He grabs your hand along with the pencil as he guides your hand where to go. You feel your heartbeat speed up at the unexpected contact. The only thing you could think of was how his hand would feel casually holding yours. How it would feel resting on your waist as you kissed him.

All of these thoughts were all hitting you at once. You had never thought of Dalton in a more-than-friendly way. So why were you thinking of him like that now? Was it just your mind confusing a close friendship with romantic feelings? Or was there something there?

Once he had sketched out a similar pattern to what was on his paper, he lets go.

“There you go.” He smiles.

You don’t say anything as you smile back.

He disregards your silence and continues on with his teaching.

“Okay, so, you’re going to sketch out the features. I cant help you with that since that’s probably one of the most difficult parts.”

He offers to basically hold your hand again. But it was only to teach you what you asked him to teach you. Right?

“Ill try it myself.” You say to try and avoid anymore physical contact with Dalton.

“Yeah, I don’t think i can draw.” You say with a laugh as you try to sketch out the first eye.

“Here, let me show you a trick.”

He brings his paper over to yours and tells her the trick that helped him learn how to draw symmetrical and proportional facial features.

“Now you try it on your paper.” He hands you the pencil back and looks at you as you try to draw the features.

—

After 2 hours of drawing back and for and little side conversations, its hits 5:45. Your hand was cramping, and your legs were numb from sitting in the same position for so long.

“My hand hurts, Dalton. I don’t want to draw anymore.” You whine out.

“Fineee, we can finish it tomorrow.” He says as he stands up and sets his sketchbook on his bed.

“Yes, tomorrow. I just need to stand up and walk.” You say as you try to stand without falling over.

You pick up the piece of paper you had been drawing on. You weren’t aware of who you were drawing, but you were just drawing whatever Dalton told you to.

“I’m gonna go back to my dorm. Chris should be there by now.” You grab your bag and the drink you had brought with you there.

“Alright, Ill see you tomorrow though, right?” He says as stands up and walks towards you.

“Of course, you see me everyday.” You laugh as you guys pull each other into a hug.

Even though you guys have hugged a million times before, this one was different. Maybe it was his hand placement, or maybe it was just the thoughts you had before, or just maybe it was the fact it lingered a little longer than previous hugs. But whatever it was instantly made your heart race and your face grow pink.

Dalton pulls away as he smiles as you.

“Well, ill see you tomorrow then.” His hand is still laying on your hip.

“Yeah, of course.” You open the door and walk out into the hallway.

“Bye.” You smile at him as you see him walking back towards the bed with his hand in his hair.

He swiftly turns and looks at you.

“Bye.”

#llvmos #dalton lambert #fanfic #insidious #dalton lambert x reader #insidious the red door #ty simpkins #insidious 5 #fluff #i dont know what im doing tbh #how to people write fanfiction everyday?

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3

Summary: Feyre takes some time to talk to one of her more reserved students, unveiling an adorable. yet heartbreaking Christmas wish.

OR

Rhys' little sister gets him a girlfriend.

“Three, two—” The bell above the studio door chimed and Ressina swept out from behind the front counter to greet the first arrivals for the evening class. A rambunctious pair of boys, ages eight and five. “Hello, my lovelies, I’ve missed you!”

Ressina was wonderful with the kids and had a particular fondness for greeting the younger classes and getting them settled. Turning away, Feyre finished setting out the paint and water before sitting down to start a few designs in pencil for the children to paint over. Elves, gingerbread men, angels, and snowmen. She’d need to draw a few more once the little ones had picked out what they wanted to draw, but it was good to get a little extra done before the place turned into a madhouse. 

It didn’t take long for all ten students to arrive, crowding into the studio and stripping out of their winter coats before sitting down at the table. The parents—and brother, in little Avyanna’s case—were left to line the walls, conversing among themselves. “What’s that, Ms. Feyre?”

She smiled. Avy was the meekest voice of the group, a bit wary of the children around her, though she’d seen her laughing with a few of the other girls on occasion and she seemed to be making better social progress with each class. “We’ll be painting ornaments today. You get to pick your favorite design and paint it whatever colors you want. Then Miss Ressina and I will dry it here and give you some pretty ribbon when you come back next week so you can hang it on your tree for your family to enjoy.”

Her eyes widened, lighting up with excitement. “I’d like an angel. Please.”

Feyre gave her another warm smile. “I’ll set this in your spot. Go grab an apron so you don’t stain that pretty shirt.”

“I appreciate the foresight you ladies have for that.” 

Feyre jumped, turning to face the new speaker. At least after two months of classes she could keep from blushing like a fool around him. “Sorry. I didn't notice you Mr. Axton—”

“I think we’ve attended enough lessons to justify you calling me Rhys. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to head outside for a moment to make a call, if that’s alright?” 

“Of course. We’re all set here if you need to step out. She’ll be fine.”

“Excellent. Pardon me.” Ruffling his sister’s hair, he stepped back out into the cold, pressing the phone to his ear, a scowl on his face the next time he spoke.

“Do you like my brother?” Avy asked the next time she circled back to their group. A bit startled by the subject, she hesitated to answer. “He likes you, you know.” The statement was out of the blue, an absent thought as she started to paint the angel wings as precisely as any six year old could. “He doesn’t talk about it, but he watches you while we’re here. I think it would make him happy if you went on a date. Happier than he is now, at least.” She had a solemn look about her, her shoulders curving in slightly. “That’s all I want this Christmas. For him to do something that makes him happy.”

While the other children around them were distracted with each other and their art, the parents in hearing range had been following the one sided conversation and were either looking on with amusement at Feyre’s awkwardness or pity for the girl’s homelife. She couldn’t imagine it was easy, going into the holidays just months after losing their parents to a fatal highway crash. 

And how does one tell an elementary-schooler you can’t make people happy by dropping them into a spontaneous date with a stranger. “Sweetheart, I think you and your brother are going to have an amazing Christmas together, especially if you’re with those uncles you keep telling me about.”

“Just wait til he gets back. You’ll see.”

~~~~~

Even smudged with paint and charcoal, the shop owner was gorgeous. Gorgeous and amazing with his sister, which did nothing to help how distracted he was today, trying and failing to tune into the nonsense his uncle was spewing in his ear. “Your parents are dead, Rhysand. If you don’t get a move on—”

“Tell me again, Kier, how I should run this business more like my father. I’m dying for a reason to kick you off the board for good.” Silence. “You’d do well to remember who this company was bequeathed to.”

“Of course, Rhysand,” he ground out. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“Then don’t. Get me the contract I requested. I’ll review it in the morning.” 

He shoved his phone back in his pocket, rolling his neck as he calmed himself. If there was one thing he prided himself on it was not letting this shitstorm bleed into his time with his little sister. She was still too young to understand the truth behind a lot that had happened in their life. A mercy and curse, as he was left to question how long he could live with himself, telling her their parents’ car crash was a highway accident.

It was the right call for now, but as her guardian, he still felt like shit. He looked back through the window, spotting Avy in the middle of the table, quiet and reserved among her peers. It was a work in progress, breaking the six-year-old of their father’s rigid teachings, but he had seen glimpses of the rowdy kid she could be once she realized it wouldn’t get her in trouble. 

He pushed back into the art studio, removing his jacket and taking the empty seat beside Avyanna. “How’s it going, Avy?”

“Good. Ms. Feyre’s been helping me. She did the pencil part, see,” she showed him, tracing her finger over the cartoonish pencil marks that outlined the angel design Avy had chosen. She frowned, setting her paintbrush on her paper towel. “Was that Uncle Keir again? You didn’t look happy outside.”

“Ah, I fixed what needed to be fixed. No trouble in sight. What are you painting?”

She was quiet for a moment, likely trying to determine if he was hiding something that should be her business. “An ornament. Miss Ressina has some pretty ribbon we can hang them with so I can take it home and put it on the tree.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan, Avy.”

“How are we doing over here?” Feyre asked the cluster of children, immediately receiving overlapping progress reports on various snowmen, angels, elves, and gingerbread men. 

His sister was still as a statue, looking almost guilty as her instructor checked the paint and water cups around the table. Both of them were doing an excellent job of refusing to make eye contact with him, and Rhys found himself missing the fleeting-yet-bright smile the art teacher normally gifted him once or twice a lesson. 

Avy was far too well-behaved to have made any trouble for the two women leading the weekly lessons and Feyre seemed naturally at ease with parents and students alike. Whatever had shifted would need to be addressed, but it could wait until they weren’t dealing with eavesdroppers. 

“You don’t have to hover, you know,” his sister said, a bit of snark rising in companionship to that guilt. “I can paint on my own.”

Rhys frowned, but respected her request, walking back around the table to stand on the opposite wall. “What am I missing here?” he muttered. 

A father to his right chuckled. “Other than your sister telling Feyre you have a crush on her loud enough for the room to hear, nothing much.”

“Oh, is that all?” His eyes slid back to Feyre. Though she had likely brushed off the prospect of a date with him, something had been said that was weighing her down and it didn’t seem to lift for the rest of the lesson. He honestly didn’t care what the other guardians thought about him staying after they had all shuffled out. “Avy, put on your coat and wait by the door for me, okay?”

“Are you  asking Ms. Feyre on a date?”

“Avyanna, door.” She scampered away and he let out a long sigh, earning a chuckle from Ressina. “Sorry.”

She shook her head. “Feyre, come out here for a moment.”

“Yeah, what’s… up. Hi, Mr.—” He clicked his tongue softly. Feyre sighed in surrender. “Rhys, what can I do for you?”

Ressina was courteous enough to take up whatever was left in the back, leaving Feyre and Rhys with only a six year old for company. “This evening, it came to my attention that my sister made some insinuations that caused you discomfort.”

Her eyes widened in panic. “No!” Blushing, she cleared her throat, stating more calmly, “No, it wasn’t uncomfortable. I just didn’t want to get her hopes up. I didn’t think there was much substance behind…”

“A six-year-old’s second-hand love proclamations?”

She bit her lip. “Something like that. She just… She said it was her Christmas wish for you to be happy. I didn’t want her thinking a good holiday season hinged on romance.”

He swallowed. Did he really come off as someone so miserable Avy said this was her Christmas wish? The business demands were putting him through the wringer, but he thought he was better at wearing a mask. “I appreciate that. All the same though, if you weren’t currently seeing someone… more accurately, if you were interested in going out… Are you free on Saturday?”

Feyre chewed her lip. “Are you asking me because you want to ask me, or just to appease a six-year-old, because I won’t be part of something that—”

He waived his hand in a motion ment to cut off her concern. “If I didn’t have feelings for you I would have nipped this in the bud and left the studio as soon as her ornament was set to dry. I like you, Feyre. So what do you say?”

“Saturday. Can you pick me up from here?”

~~~~~

Taglist: @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer

#feysand #rhysand #feyre archeron #feysand fic #holiday fic #a christmas wish #fluff fic #acotar