#and there were several other people's gifts i love

[jennifer-jeong]

Okay so first, I really love your LnD fics (patiently waiting for more of your amazing works) 🥹🫶 and hear me out...

Reader who is reincarnated as a Fae being and has been alive since. But the thing is, her wings had been clipped off (with the use of silver chains, meaning she's vulnerable against silver) for a century and is in Linkon city since she feels that part of her (her wings) are somewhere hidden in the city (Think of Maleficent live action ig where her wings were taken from her) and meets the guys and so on :)

HI ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ASK AND YOUR KIND WORDS FJDSKLAFJSDL;A I APPRECIATE IT SM!! TY FOR INTERACTING!! I’m so glad to hear you like my fics and I promise more are on the way hehehe please do request me again if you have more ideas!!

I hope I did your prompt justice! I definitely did think a lot about maleficent when writing this hehehehe

[Fluff + Angst] [Love and Deepspace Boys x Fae!Reader] Angel

CONTENT

Angst to fluff, gender neutral reader, mentions of violence, blood, trauma, torture, healing alongside them, mutual pining between you and the boys, happy and open ended endings! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

Your wings were a pretty and pearly milky white. Your wings resembled those of high flying birds. They were thick enough to allow gliding and also strong enough to give you lots of control in the air. They were iridescent in the sun and carried you high in the bright sky. The air was thin but more refreshing up there. You played with clouds and soared through the endless blue. It was freedom. It made you feel alive, warm.

It was your gift, but unfortunately, it was on someone else’s wishlist.

You’d never been a spiteful being, nor had you ever hurt a fly. But when silver chains ripped your flesh and tore your muscle to take your wings, severing your very soul from your body. When they destroyed your forest, your home, your family, your heart. You swore to make them suffer.

You were powerful and hunting these fools down was nothing difficult for you. The problem was hunting without your wings, your best weapon.

The lack of mobility and being forced to fight on the ground made it so that you could maim the weak ones, but you could never reach the ones who profited off the suffering of you and your people.

Linkon city is where they were. You knew this. You could feel your wings there. You also knew that you’d need to hide, figure out who did what and how to get your damn wings back. It would take time, but time was all you had as a fae. You’d do whatever it took to make them pay.

It’d take years, but it was worth it.

2 years later and you’ve already made moves to apprehend (and torture) a few key figures, always leaving them in front of the police station when you were done. You still had so much good in you and it always prevented you from killing. But it made you seethe that they were filthy fucking rich from what they stole from your homeland. They sold your resources and displayed your bodies, your wings, like they were trophies. Life was still cold and depressing for you but you did manage to make some friends in Linkon. They’d even help you with your mission. You only trusted them with the information because they had similar goals.

XAVIER

Xavier was a local policeman you had met a few decades into your plot when you were hired to help with the case. He was coincidentally also investigating illegal hunters and black markets selling goods stolen from other civilizations such as yours. It was a big ring of crime and he was determined to end the atrocities that were being committed in it. Meeting you was just extra motivation on top of his already relentless drive for justice. You became investigative partners since you were both capable in combat and often investigated the same people anyways.

Xavier was kind, gentle, quiet, and stronger than he let on. He always worked without expectation of reward and you appreciated that. You just wanted justice and he wanted the same. It helped that he didn’t seek publicity because it would’ve made your life harder since you were probably wanted as a vigilante from before. Xavier taught you his philosophies and you realized you’d been consumed by your desire for revenge, unable to enjoy life outside of it. You admired him for his morals, so you learned from him, and it made you two grow closer. He was more than happy to help, it was so rewarding to see you slowly become your bubbly self that he guesses you lost a long time ago.

He had his suspicions that you might be fae. The man was smart but he played his cards carefully, he always held them close. He acted aloof with you and pretended to not constantly stare at the back of your shirt, trying to see if you had imprints of missing wings on your shoulder blades. He also figured that your motivation for wanting to crack these cases came from somewhere. If he also managed to figure out that you’d been behind some of the previous mysterious arrests, he’d turn a blind eye. He knew your actions weren’t crimes. He felt glad that you got them back for what they did to you and your people.

After a few years of planned raids and dozens of arrests, one of the recovered items from the warehouse was a beautiful pair of wings. Still buzzing with magic, craving to feel the wind again. You felt them when they were being transported to the police HQ. The surge of energy that continued to approach you made you hold your breath and bounce your leg out of pure anxiety. Xavier put a hand on your shoulder to try to calm you down. He’d already figured out what was going on just by looking at you. You didn’t need to say a word. It was something that slowly came naturally since you two spent so much time together. You smiled and he smiled warmly back. You were in the middle of panicking because Xavier was still touching you when you were presented with your missing soul, your wings. You requested to view the “evidence” privately with Xavier and wasted no time in feeling your delicate wings with your fingertips again.

Xavier stood behind you, his right hand found its way to your upper back. He finally traced the outlines of your cut wings. It made you gasp at first, but you trusted him. As he continued to feel them, you shivered. They were scars, they were more sensitive. He stepped to your side and you turned to partially face him, his hand sliding off of you. You looked into his eyes and your longstanding feelings for Xavier were making their presence known by heating up your face, flushing your cheeks. You swore you saw a slight tinge of red on the tips of his ears too. He spoke to you in his familiar voice that you loved so much. He decided to tease you slightly.

“I think I always knew that you’d have wings, you were too perfect to not be an angel.”

ZAYNE

Zayne was a surgeon you’d met one day when he treated your wounds since you collapsed outside the hospital. He discovered the scars where your wings used to sit on your back. You were high off the morphine when he checked your back for more injuries so you barely even realized.

He questioned you but not in the way you expected. You thought he wouldn’t know what they were or try to take advantage of you. But instead he asked what you knew about the hunters that took your wings. He already knew exactly what happened to you just by looking. He was involved in cracking down on research related to Fae and Lemurians since there were people trying to fuse their genetics with these races to gain their beneficial traits such as immortality.

He knew some things you didn’t know and vice versa. You both began working on this together, investigating research facilities, interrogating suspects, and fighting only when needed. You were unstoppable and the law didn’t plan to ask you to let up. You both hand delivered them collectors and shadowy figures that had hid from the police for so long. When you fought, Zayne could both heal and attack from afar while you rushed them head on. You were unafraid because you believed in your partner, your trust in Zayne only grew as the years went on.

Early on, Zayne encouraged you to let go of the spite, the revenge. You knew he was right when he said that they did not benefit you in this. He saw the rage in you and could see that it was hurting you, mentally and physically. You listened, you knew better. You stopped the relentless tortures and instead, let the collectors rot in jail, but not before you got in a few good punches. Zayne watched you slowly come out of your shell again, actually taking the time to enjoy the little things in life instead of being hyper focused on revenge. He’d be lying if he said you weren’t one of the most rewarding patients he’d ever had.

Working with your partner was definitely quite the rollercoaster. He was always so professional and mature but would also randomly tease you as if you were kids, albeit with a fully deadpan expression. Zayne was reserved and often came off as cold but he made you so warm. You knew he was an extremely compassionate and kind person under his exterior and you admired him for it. Zayne also adored you in the same way. You had gone through so much pain and suffering but you still smiled and shined like the sun.

Over time you adapted to live without your wings but after one specific raid on a collector’s mansion, you knew exactly what the collector’s prized possession was because it belonged to you. You could feel your wings. They still surged with energy and upon seeing them when you went to do follow up investigation, you immediately called to them. They flew towards you and you inspected them, almost not believing the scene in front of you. Zayne stayed close ready to support you, especially if you were to fuse with your wings again, he knew it’d be hard to keep them hidden and it’d just bring up so much previous trauma.

You turned to face him slowly, leaving your wings behind you. You hesitated. Not letting your wings fuse with you yet. Zayne looked into your eyes, trying to comfort you with his presence. After a few seconds, Zayne held out his hand, you took it. His skin was cold but somehow it made yours burn, the heat spreading through your body as your face warmed up. He spoke quietly to you, telling you to take your time. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, your thumb slowly caressing the back of Zayne's hand as he did the same back.

Zayne had always been good at comforting you with his words, maybe it just came naturally since he was a doctor. Regardless, you knew it was exactly what you needed right now. You didn’t know what you’d do after you got your wings back. Would you go home? Would you continue this mission with Zayne? Would having your wings make it harder? Would it make it easier? You confided in Zayne as you spoke your thoughts out loud. Once you were done, you were overwhelmed and he could tell. He started his reply with a sentence that filled you with warmth, hope, and a little bit of giddiness. He speaks, teasing you a bit at the end, his face flushing.

“It doesn’t matter what you are or if you have the wings or not, you’re beautiful and you should follow your heart… especially if it’s here.”

RAFAYEL

Rafayel was a painter “looking for art or inspiration” that you met at an underground event where illegal goods were being sold, but you quickly figured out it was a front. Rafayel was a Lemurian, you sensed it immediately since you weren’t human. As a fae you had the ability to sense certain things, and so did Rafayel. Upon meeting each other at an art exhibition, you quickly exchanged information and agreed to meet up again the next day. You almost simultaneously revealed that you were both after the hunters that destroyed your homes when you finally got to chat alone.

The two of you start to frequent more underground events, both of you being well connected and hiding your true intentions very well. You use the events to gather information and then put your plans into action when your targets are alone. It worked amazingly well, you were both extremely skilled and efficient at what you did. It slowly chipped away at this network that shamelessly destroyed your beautiful homes.

Rafayel was a bit of a loose cannon. The man was so sweet and bashful one second and deadly serious the next. He was so gentle with you but didn’t hesitate when there was business that needed to be done. He could easily switch it on and off too. You were just glad you were on his side of this war.

Both you and Rafayel were out for revenge but something about your partnership changed you two. You both slowly helped each other heal, confiding your worries and traumas in each other. You were still both ruthless when it came to apprehending the people who did you wrong but the tortures stopped and the warmth returned outside of the violence. You two actually started to make good memories and live life instead of just trying to survive. You’d often watch the sunset over the ocean together, it was peaceful and you’d chat about anything and everything.

Eventually, after dozens of raids and missions, Rafayel finds weapons that used to belong to his family at the same time you find your wings again. You kept quiet until the mission was done, knowing you could feel your wings but not wanting to startle Rafayel. You looked at the weapons with him, you put your hand on his back to show your support for him. His eyes stayed glued on the knives and his face was a painful melancholic expression. You rubbed circles into his upper back with your thumb, hoping it could ease some of the pain caused by resurfacing memories.

After ensuring that the weapons would be sent to his personal studio, he continues to explore the mansion with you, following you while you find your wings. You communicated to him about your wings and he knew this would be tough for you too but you were both glad you had each other in this moment.

When you saw your wings in a display case at the end of one of the hallways, you bit back tears. It was a lot to take in. You passed millions of dollars worth of paintings to reach the most priceless thing in this whole building. Rafayel lags slightly behind you, wanting to give you a moment. You turn to face him, telling him that you don’t know if you want the wings back or not. Would they make you complete again? They can’t bring anyone back, can’t take away the pain. You couldn’t hide them like Rafayel could hide his true form, would it be a nuisance?

Rafayel makes his way towards you as you ramble, clearly distressed. He quickly envelopes you in a hug, letting you cry lightly into his chest, a painting of Lucifer on the wall next to you. You stay like that for a while. When he finally pulls back, he cups your face with his hands. You were his fallen angel, he wasn’t always great with his words but he truly spoke from the heart when comforting you like this.

“You never needed these wings to be complete, you’re ethereal with or without them. You’ll always be my angel, no matter what.”

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST<3 ||

#love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #xavier x reader #xavier fluff #xavier angst #zayne x reader #zayne fluff #zayne angst #rafayel x reader #rafayel fluff #rafayel angst #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace angst #lads fluff #l&ds fluff #j's silly ramblings

[reduxulousoctopus]

X-Men '97, Post-Episode 7, ~2500 words Morpherine established relationship, missing scene (unless the show actually does explore what happened during that fight, in which case boy is there egg on my face).

I follow established show canon by referring to Morph as he/him in diegetic works (fanfic and fan art) and they/them in non-diegetic works (my episode analyses and reblogs), because that's the stupidest option and, like Morph, I am also an enby with a terrible sense of humor.

Now come watch me struggle to write two whole lines of dialogue for one of my favorite characters in the series, Beast, because Me Too Stupid to Write Smart Talk Good.

--

“You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the question, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan glaring back at him with an expression as hard as the adamantium underneath it. Although it’s a look he’s seen plenty of times before as an innocent bystander, Morph has only been the target of that glare on a handful of occasions. Usually when he’s severely fucked something up. Or when Logan is completely out-of-his-mind, cuckoo-bananas worried about him.

Morph suspects that this time, it’s a little Column A, a little Column B.

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph smirks and asks, “What, the Summers Family Reunion? Well, you see, when a man and the clone of his wife love each other very much…” Morph chuckles. “By the way, this might be a bit creepy to say as one of his honorary uncles, but Baby Nathan grew up to be a serious hottie—emphasis on serious.”

No laugh. Okay, maybe that wasn’t his best material, but not even a lip twitch? Logan must be pissed.

Morph sighs and slouches in his seat. God, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. Or maybe ever. He can feel his throat literally closing up to stop the words from coming out.

When enough time has passed that what little patience Logan had left in the tap completely runs dry, he goes right for the jugular: “I thought you were dead. Again.”

Morph winces.

“I saw that… ‘Trask Sentinel’ blow your goddamn head off. Then, next thing I know, you’re up and walkin’ around like nothing happened.”

“Not that you’re complaining, right?” Morph asks with a weak attempt at a laugh. “You know what they say about gift horses. Although, you’d think the lesson from the Trojan War would be that you should look gift horses in the mouth.”

From the seat behind him, Morph hears: “Although it’s a common misconception, that phrase actually has nothing to do with the Trojan Horse. The proverbial ‘gift horse’ is a literal, living horse, and to look it in the mouth—”

“With all those books you read,” Logan grumbles, “I thought at least one of them would've taught you it's rude to eavesdrop.”

“It would be difficult not to overhear, given the two of you are speaking quite loudly in a confined space while surrounded by people,” Beast points out. “Have you considered that this perhaps isn’t the best venue for a private conversation?”

“He is a super-genius. We’d better listen to him,” Morph tells Logan. “We’ll talk later, okay big guy?”

The stubborn set of that heavy jaw says Logan knows damn well ‘later’ means ‘never,’ and he isn’t gonna let Morph weasel out of this that easy. “If you ever want me to let you off this plane, you’ll talk now.”

“Let me?” Morph scoffs. He transforms into Quicksilver, puts on his best smug speedster grin, and says, “Just try and stop me, slowpoke.”

To his shock, Logan actually flinches. It’s a subtle thing, Morph might not have even noticed if he didn’t know Logan so well. The cause eludes him, however—until Morph remembers that he looked like Maximoff when the Thrask Sentinel… when everything went dark and quiet for a few seconds.

Funny. There was a time when Morph, blinded by youthful naivety and hero-worship, would have insisted Wolverine wasn’t afraid of anything.

Returning to his default form, Morph mutters out an apology. He tries to imagine what it would be like to see Logan die, only for him to get up a few seconds later and act like nothing happened. With that healing factor of his, they’ve gotten damned close to that exact scenario more than a few times.

How much worse would it feel, if Logan had kept his quick-healing abilities secret and Morph had to find out the hard way?

Morph takes a breath, looks out the window at the black clouds rushing by, and starts from the beginning.

“You know how most of us don’t know we’re mutants until we hit puberty, and our powers manifest? Well… I didn’t have to wait that long. Problem is, since I was just a baby, I had no idea how to control my powers—no more than a normal baby is born knowing how to walk or talk.

He holds out his hands with his palms cupped together to form a shallow, makeshift bowl.

“When I was born, I looked like a wriggling lump of white clay, about yay-big. No arms or legs, no face, no ears, no eyes. Just a mouth that would appear somewhere on my body whenever I was hungry or wanted to cry.”

Whatever Logan was expecting to hear, from the look on his face, it clearly wasn’t that.

“But even at that tender age, someone clearly recognized my star potential. I was only two days old when I made my media debut: Severely Deformed MUTANT Born In Pittsburgh Hospital.” Morph shrugs. “Not the most positive review, I’ll admit, but you know what they say: all publicity is good publicity. After all, that’s how the professor found me.”

Logan’s frown returns, more confused than angry. “You told me you didn’t meet Xavier until you were thirteen—after your mom passed.”

“That’s when I moved to the Institute. Turns out we actually met quite a lot earlier than I remembered, which is pretty embarrassing. Ideally, you don’t want to meet your future high school principal, college instructor, mentor, and world famous civil rights leader while wearing a diaper. Even worse, I was wearing a diaper, too—and I told him, mister, one of us is going to have to go home and change his outfit and it sure isn’t going to be me.”

That gets him a smile and a huff of a laugh, which would be an encouraging sign if he didn’t know how the story ends.

“So Xavier talked to my parents, explained the whole ‘mutant thing.’ Dad wasn’t happy. Then again, I’m not sure he ever was. He would have been disappointed to have a girl—a sentient lump of polymorphic biomass was right out. Thankfully, Xavier was able to use his telepathy to coach me through my very first transformation. He showed me how to turn into a normal baby boy, who would eventually grow up to look like this.”

Morph transforms into his old default, the one he still uses whenever he wants to pass: pale (although not that pale) skin, brown eyes, brown hair, hooked nose, pointed chin, gaunt cheeks, arched brows. Not exactly Fabio, but it’s the face Logan used to know him by—the face he sometimes worries Logan might secretly still prefer.

“Then he put some psychic blocks in place to limit my powers to something a bit more… manageable. Don’t give me that look. It sounds shady, but the professor messing with my head was the only reason I got to have a normal, happy childhood with my parents. God only knows what would have happened otherwise—if I’d even be alive now.”

The worry and suspicion that appeared on Logan’s face at the mention of psychic tampering grudgingly fade away. “When did you find out?” he asks instead.

“A couple months after the professor… y’know,” Morph sighs. “I hacked his personal files. Since he wouldn’t be around anymore to help you recover your memories, I hoped that maybe I could find something small he overlooked, some clue that might give us an idea where to look next.”

Logan’s eyes widen and his mouth goes slightly slack. “Morph…”

“I didn’t find anything, before you get excited. Not about you, anyway. Sure found out a lot about myself, though—a lot more than I was bargaining for.”

“That’s when your default form changed,” Logan realizes.

“Yeah. It was kind of hard to think of this,” Morph replies, gesturing at the face of his human-passing form, “as my ‘real’ face after that. Not that my new look is any more real, of course.”

“Who else knows?”

“Other than our friends listening to this conversation right now?” Morph asks pointedly, causing an entire plane full of X-Men to each make their best attempt at looking busy. Nightcrawler’s method of peering thoughtfully at the radio controls with one hand on his chin is particularly masterful—Logan mentioned he used to perform in a circus, so it’s no wonder he’s got such a good instinct for stage-business. “I told Hank and Moira not long after I found out. Seemed like a bad idea to keep that information from my doctors. Especially when one of them is also my therapist.”

At receiving a glare from Logan, Beast develops a sudden and convenient fascination with the view through the Blackbird’s window.

“But you didn’t want anyone else to know.” Logan could accept that, even if he doesn’t like it. Nothing personal. A man’s business is man's business, after all—even for a not-quite-man like Morph.

Too bad it wouldn’t be the truth; no more ‘real’ than any face that Morph wears.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

Morph can handle Logan’s anger, no problem. That’s almost charming, after all these years. But it’s the flicker of hurt, just like that little flinch earlier, that really cuts him to the quick.

“Not because I don’t trust you, or want to keep things from you or anything, it’s just… I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

He sighs and looks away again. He transforms back into his new default: smooth white skin, mask-like face. Obviously inhuman.

Still a lot more human than he looked when he was born, though.

“So, yeah. That’s why I’ve apparently gained the ability to survive having my head blown off. It sure would have been handy to know that my organs were optional the last time a Sentinel put me down. Now, instead of being out of commission for two years I’ll never get back, I can just squish myself back together and keep on keepin’ on.”

Logan doesn’t respond, and slowly, the mutter of other conversations step in to fill the void. Morph stares at nothing, sick with nerves. It’s deeply unfair that he can still feel nauseous even though he doesn’t have a stomach anymore.

He would say it’s all in his head, but if he can survive without one, maybe he doesn’t have a brain, either.

Badum-tch.

Good line. Hopefully he’ll remember it after the existential horror wears off, in the brief window when things will be funny again before the heartbreak sinks in.

Because there’s dropping a bombshell on a relationship—then there’s dropping a fucking nuke.

Oh God. There isn’t going to be a window, is there?

“Morph. Look at me.”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the command, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan looking back at him with an expression as soft as the heart he usually tries to hide.

“No matter what you look like, there’s one thing you’ve never been able to change,” Logan tells him. “That’s real enough for me.”

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph can’t stop himself from opening his big stupid mouth. No wonder that was the one feature even Baby Morph knew to give himself. “There are more blocks Xavier left behind that I haven’t pushed through, yet. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to change my scent, someday.”

From the look on his face, Logan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility. Morph immediately wishes he could take it back, feeling like he’s just tarnished something sacred.

It’s always been strangely intimate, the way Logan can recognize him by scent alone. Even from the beginning, when Morph decided to pull a prank on the grumpy new recruit, only for Wolverine to sniff him out mere seconds into his planned routine—it was as if, like the Emperor’s New Clothes, he suddenly realized he had been naked the entire time.

Another, smarter shapeshifter might have avoided Logan after that; Morph couldn’t get enough.

One-sided pestering turned into an unlikely friendship, turned into friends-with-benefits, turned into… whatever they have now. That which dares not speak its name.

The thought of losing that connection, the idea that someday he may be able to change himself so thoroughly that even Logan won’t be able to recognize him anymore… It’s too awful. Cursed knowledge. Like learning about the solar cycle when he was a kid, and suddenly having the horrible realization: if even the sun is going to die someday, what makes him so sure Mom will get better?

Out of the corner of his eye, Morph sees Logan’s hand start to move, stop, then start again, reaching across the aisle towards him. For a insane, terrifying moment, he thinks Logan’s about to hold his hand, outing them in front of God, the other X-Men, and everybody—but of course, that enormous, rough mitt lands on his shoulder instead. Perfectly platonic, approved for all audiences by S&P.

Though they’re shooting through the air at supersonic speed, under the heavy weight of that hand, Morph feels rooted to stable ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow breaths he doesn’t actually need, with lungs he only has when he remembers to make himself some.

If there are any people left when the sun finally burns out in a few billion years, they’ll still be telling each other jokes as they go into that endless good night. Just think of the money we’ll save on sunscreen. Maybe, but you know the light-bulb companies are gonna take us to the cleaners. Ha ha, freeze frame, theme song, end credits.

Even as her body slowly wasted away under the combined onslaught of cancer and chemo, Mom always laughed at his jokes, no matter how many times she heard the one about the chicken who crossed the road. His most appreciative audience, to the very last curtain call.

The world is pretty fucking scary right now, and only getting scarier. Sinister. Genosha. Losing Gambit. Sentinels again, in all new and even more monstrous forms. Even worse: total war between humans and mutants looming over the horizon, shaking the ground with each step, getting closer and more inevitable every time someone mentions it, like a demon whose power grows every time you says its name.

But just because things are scary doesn’t mean the world's turning into a horror movie, and just because things are sad doesn’t make it a tragedy. Everyone gets to choose the genre of their life story—and Morph will always pick comedy.

He gives the hand on his shoulder a friendly pat, and uses the motion to disguise a slightly more-than-friendly squeeze. “I’m alright, just a little airsick. I think it’s making me maudlin.”

As he pulls his hand back, Logan frowns a little in confusion—he knows Morph is experienced enough in the air that he shouldn’t be getting nauseous over what are, for the Blackbird, barely above pleasure-cruise speeds.

“How unfair is that, by the way?” Morph asks. “I don’t even have a stomach right now.”

Logan chuckles. Nah, baby, don’t give it up for me that easy, Morph thinks, fighting a grin. You gotta make me work for it a little…

He needn’t have worried, though. When he does make it to the punchline, Logan laughs so hard that he snorts, the laugh-lines Morph has personally carved into that seemingly indestructible face creasing and growing deeper still. And as their friends who Definitely Weren’t Eavesdropping join in—even Rogue, so teary and congested that her laughs would sound like sobs if she wasn’t smiling—Morph knows all their attempts to hide their relationship have been for nothing, because there’s no way that all the love he feels for Logan in that moment isn’t writ large all over whichever face he's wearing right now.

That’s real enough for him.

#x men 97 #x men #morph #wolverine #morpherine #my stuff #wait what this actually ended up good #have I actually been a good writer this whole time and just too depressed to notice? #what the fuck that's not fair

[waves-against-a-cliff]

Cookies and Brownies - Gaz x Reader

Content Warnings - Fluff with some very, very minor angst.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Normally, Gaz did not find leaving his flat so difficult. Usually he was already gnawing at the bit to get back onto the field from his mandatory leave, to get back to doing something instead of lying around. Well now he had a reason to want to stay, for the person next door who also happens to work at his favorite bakery/cafe.

There is something cruel about that, ironically cruel. Gaz has never had any trouble getting people to come home with him, sometimes he didn’t even need to put on any of his charm. But he knows it was because of his looks, charming like a prince in a fairytale. Was it the military lifestyle? Was that why he found it so hard to keep people around him and wanting him? Maybe.

But you, you were different. You didn’t see his return to the military as a goodbye, closing your door on whatever is happening between the two of you. No, you worked out a solution in mere seconds. Gift packages, he’d seen some men he’s worked with before get them. Packages usually from loved ones, like family or partners. Sometimes from friends. Gaz hadn’t gotten one since his early days, back when his grandmother was still around. God rest her soul.

It’s two weeks later, two weeks into being at this base in this fucking desert that the package arrives. His name is called out alongside others and he is handed a package, it has several postmarks slapped onto it with your handwriting on the box for the address.

His stomach twists at the sight of your handwriting, how is that possible? How can he feel that way over handwriting? It’s not just anyone’s handwriting, Gaz thought, it's yours. Distinctly and completely yours. Something no other person could replicate, just you.

Gaz waits until he’s in his tent, empty thankfully, to cut open the package. Inside there is a letter on top of several tins that his mind immediately thinks are sewing supplies until he connects the dots. He opens the letter first, imagining his grandmother slapping the back of his head for being rude and going for the gifts first.

More of your handwriting, his heart pounds as he reads through the letter. He can’t help but rub his thumb over where you wrote his name. Kyle. His real name, not a call sign given to him years ago. Kyle Garrick.

Kyle opens the first tin and finds it filled to the brim with chocolate chip cookies. It dawns on Kyle then that there are four tins, which means lots of baked goods. He licks his lips as he pulls out the other tins and opens them, just to know which one’s hold which.

There is another tin of cookies, white macadamia nut and two tins of brownies. One looks like the classic kind and the other filled with cookie-brownies. He feels like a wolf staring down prey, unguarded sheep ready to be eaten. Before he digs in, he puts the tins away and rips a piece of paper from his notebook and writes.

Dear Kyle,

Hello! I hope the package found you alright and that I had added enough postmarks for it to make the journey. I hope you’re still at base and not somewhere fighting bad guys haha. Things here have seriously slowed down or maybe its because our best customer isn’t currently here. I made some cookies and brownies although they might be stale. If they are, I’m sorry but I’m not sure how to stop that from happening. Do you have any kind of favorite candies? If you send me a letter with your favorites I’ll be sure to include it in the next batch, maybe even bake it into the cookies.

It’s been raining impossibly often but according to Mrs. Thompson its that time of the year. Is that true or is she trying to keep me from rightfully complaining about not seeing the sun in a week? Why is it that when you left the sun decided to hide behind rain clouds? Do you have some kind of deal worked out with the weather? If so, let me in on it, there’s only so much rain a person can handle. Well, I don’t want to hold you up. Enjoy the likely stale cookies and brownies.

#gaz call of duty #gaz x female reader #gaz x reader #gaz x you #gaz x y/n #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #cod imagine #gaz imagine

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Ok regarding that “can i make Yves do my homework if I give him my childhood pictures” ask, exactly how much access does Yves have to our lives? Does he have images or videos from when we were still a baby or would they be new information to him?

A bunch of my baby pictures and videos are lost because my dad lost the computer that had them but we recently found my aunt’s old camera filled with our childhood pictures, it was a pleasant surprise for us but would it be for Yves too?

It absolutely is. If Yves was there with you while your aunt showed you the photo gallery of her old camera, Yves would momentarily lose a bit of inhibition and let his pupils dilate to a maddening degree before instantly constricting it back to appear normal. It's a rare, super deluxe edition photos of you, there isn't anything else like it out there as they're most likely not uploaded to the internet or a cloud based service, where he could easily hack.

Him coming across media from your childhood or at least during those early days where people still go to and get their photos developed, is like winning the lottery for him. Because, although he tries to collect everything relating to your existence, there is only so much he can do in a day. He rather prioritizes the present and the future, as the past is the past; neither you nor him can change it, he can only understand or connect it to your current behaviours or thought patterns.

He does have some information about you as a baby or a child, but that is if they're "readily available" to him. (I.e., it can be found in predictable places like in your childhood home.), that is why, Yves would try to build a good relationship with people you grew up with, to extract information.

Despite being reclusive as he is, Yves would never fail to attend every and any family gathering he is invited to or expected to come. Encouraging that drunk uncle to drink more if he knew he has something to say about you, bribing your relatives with gifts and career opportunities, perhaps even drugging that really difficult and combative cousin to make them more bearable to interrogate.

As soon as he knew your aunt could be another goldmine of your data, he would get to work. Wasting no time building a rapport with her, it's a piece of cake given how obsessive and manipulative his nature is.

Inevitably, your aunt will come to love him and see Yves as family. By extension, her relationship with you will skyrocket too, she will invite you to her place much more often even though she might not be the most sociable person in the first place. Yves will find a way to make her bend to his whims.

The majority of their conversations would be about you, only sometimes Yves would talk about something else if it meant he could keep the drive to spill more about your lore going. His sharp ears and mind will pick up on clues as to where he might find more pictures or writings about you. He would then break into your aunt's home to give it a thorough shakedown and leave without a trace. Yves would repeat this process until he's positive that she has nothing left to offer. That camera is getting fucking stolen and replaced with a duplicate.

It didn't matter if your aunt was a minimalist or a severe hoarder, he would go through all her things just to try and find pieces of your puzzle. He would wade through cobwebs, dust piles, rat droppings and mould if he had to, Yves isn't scared to get dirty to obtain what he wants, "squeamish" isn't in his vocabulary.

When she is robbed of all your essence, Yves would become distant. Not hostile towards her, just cold and indifferent. He would still maintain some sort of relationship with her though, in case she becomes useful again later. As of now, he either puts his entire focus on your current peripheral and direct life, or start to hunt other members down- from his snooping, he had learned of other people who may have valuable input about your childhood.

All of this is happening in the background. You wouldn't suspect a thing, there wasn't a dip in his attention for you. In fact, he may have gotten a lot more smothering, as Yves would be shaking at the thought of testing out his new theories and hypothesis that were birthed from his new knowledge.

He just loves you so much that he couldn't help himself but to get greedy. Yves wants all of you; past, present and future. And any version of you that could have been.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #oc yves #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #male yandere oc x reader

[astriiformes]

Navigating a slightly awkward fandom etiquette situation that I'd be interested in other folks' input on

I was a part of a really neat little gift exchange where my own prompt ended up having to be filled by a pinch-hitter, which may be one reason for the mismatch. The TL;DR is I had requested a genfic (unsurprisingly to you all, I am sure) and the gift I ended up getting was... not, and felt a bit like it veered from the prompt to additionally focus on a character I don't care as much for.

(Ultimately I am not horribly put-out because this was for a small fandom and there were a number of other works people did for the exchange that I got excited about, and also the vibes of the whole event have been lovely and kind which is why I don't want to kill that!)

My dilemma is I feel like I still ought to leave a comment on the fic -- it doesn't seem right not to on an exchange gift, especially when someone stepped up to write something last minute and I think just genuinely didn't understand my preferences. However I am still feeling a tiny bit of aromantic weariness about the situation, and feel a bit uncomfortable with that. My usual "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" fic policy is failing me here, and there are at least a few bits of it I still liked and could bring up in a comment. But it all feels a little disingenuous.

Just contemplating the best sort of comment to leave that won't hurt the writer's feelings and even expresses some gratitude for stepping up at the last minute (since I'm sure there are other folks getting excited about the story, and I like that thought) but also doesn't totally misrepresent what I am About in fandom, you know?

#i'm truly not too bothered since this event about doubled the amount of fic/art in the Ao3 tag which is lovely #and there were several other people's gifts i love #also being honest i enter events largely as motivation for myself to create & love the gift-giving part even more #but like i do feel a tiny bit weird about people seeing the gift/a comment by me and misunderstanding what i actually prefer! #i suppose that's the only thing i'm really having an issue with #especially since i'd love to do another exchange like this in the future and couls see someone looking at it for inspiration #which would very much give them the wrong idea #sighs. i like putting in the work to make fandom a warm and welcoming place but it does get a bit awkward sometimes

[yamujiburo]

HANAMUSA (JESSIExDELIA) MASTER POST

I probably should have started doing this forever ago but I wasn’t sure how long I was gonna stick with drawing these comics. But I guess we’re in it now! This will be continually updated~ EVERYTHING UNDER THE CUT

BEFORE YOU START:

This post is required reading about Team Rocket’s ages since that’s usually a question that comes up a lot LOL. As for Delia’s age, she is said to be 29 in Takeshi Shudo’s (original writer on Pokémon) novel that built out the world and characters of the anime.

Next, I feel like this chart helps give the vibe of what these characters relationship is (all just headcanons except for their names and ages)!

WHERE TO START:

Here’s a post I made detailing how Jessie, James and Meowth initially start living with Delia. It also goes into what each character does in this AU. Before going into the post, you might enjoy this fanfic my girlfriend commissioned! It’s based off of said post and is a more enjoyable read.

Here’s also a list of headcanons!

COMICS:

Here’s all the comics I’ve done! The order of most of them are pretty ambiguous and up in the air but I put them in the order I kinda see in my head! There are some that do take place before Jessie and Delia start dating though! Also a few comics that have several parts but the “next” and “prev” links will be in each comic. So I’ll only link the first part of those ones in this masterpost.

Pre-Relationship

Fast Food

Ophidiophobia

Whipped

Making Eyes

Hairbrush

Inquiries

Separated

First Kiss

During Relationship

Big Bed

Tattoo

Crumbs

Pet Clown

I’d Like To

Jessica

Lipstick (not a comic but some fun extra dialogue for this)

Glow

Official

Stare Down

Shovel Talk

Invisible Walls

Date Night

Face Blind

One Motto Away

Snowgasboard

Delia’s Got a Cold

Mr. Jessie Ketchum

Peek-At-Chu

Hands Off Pikachu!

Wine Nights with James

Beauty and the Beach

Turning Point Arc

Sunscreen

Where Do Babies Come From

Love Life

Ugly

Ace Trainers

Pikasitting

Mother’s Day

Father’s Day

Gift for Delia

Gift for Jessie

Jessilina Fan

Crossdressing

Hickeys

Journey Arc

Tone

Cooking Twerp

Son

Cooking Advice

Serperior Facts

Cassidy’s Cabin Arc

Father/Son Bonding

Glasses

Uniform

Study Help

Happy Valentine’s Day

Wrapped

Daddy Daughter Double Battle

Splinter

Married Life

Wedding

Arbok/Weezing Reunion

Snake Eyes

MISC DRAWINGS:

I’ll update this with links to my other miscellaneous drawings later! 

FAQ:

What does "Hanamusa" mean?

Hanamusa is a combination of Delia and Jessie's Japanese names, Hanako and Musashi respectively.

When does this AU take place?

It takes place sometime after the Mezase Pokémon Master/To Be a Pokémon Master series. So all the events that happened in the series, unless retconned within the series, happened. Ash is 10 at the start of the comics.

What's the status between Jessie, James, Meowth and Giovanni/Team Rocket?

Not great terms since they were fired, but also not the worst terms. Giovanni just let the three of them go without any further issues. I will say that I've always loved the theory that Giovanni keeps Jessie specifically around because of her parentage and he as a soft spot for her that he keeps a secret. I feel like Matori was the one that got the three of them fired and Giovanni wasn't able to make an excuse for them this time (without showing nepotism/special treatment) so he was forced to let them go.

If you headcanon Delia as a lesbian, how did Ash come to be?

Delia was young when she had Ash and I hc that she just didn’t really explore her sexuality much! I myself didn’t realized I liked women until I was 18 and didn’t know I liked ONLY women until like 2 years ago. She got married, had a baby and realized after her husband left that she liked women (trans people exist obviously but I’m also interpreting Ash’s father as a cis man).

Who do you think Ash’s dad is?

I don’t know and I don’t really care to explore it. I’m going off of the novel interpretation that he’s just a deadbeat that left to be a trainer, failed and never came back because of the shame. He’s not important.

Isn’t Giovanni Ash’s dad?

That’s a common misconception that people remember wrong from the Pokémon Live show. Delia mentions she dated Giovanni but then left him and his gang after meeting Ash’s father. I also don’t consider the live show canon personally! I follow The Birth of Mewtwo timeline where Madame Boss founded Team Rocket.

Do you think Delia and Giovanni dated at least?

Nah, I think he’s too old for her? I always got the vibe from The Birth of Mewtwo that he was quite a bit older than Jessie and it’d be sus if he was dating Delia when she was married to, and had a child with her husband at 18/19. He’s a bad guy but not a BAD guy.

You mentioned you still ship Jessie and James. Why not make a Jessie, James, Delia polycule?

I have a few reasons I’ve mentioned before! 1. I’m in super deep with this AU already and I feel it’d be very confusing for casual viewers of my stuff if James was added into the relationship haha. 2. I’ve drawn Jessie and James together since 2011 and took this AU as an opportunity to try my hand at writing them as queer, platonic besties bc I love that interpretation of them a lot as well. 3. I’m not poly myself and the way I write this ship is largely based off of my experiences with my girlfriend. I just know I’d favor the Jessie/Delia of it all which isn’t fair and not a good interpretation of a poly relationship. All that said, I DO super enjoy seeing peoples’ poly headcanons and art!

Who does James end up with in this AU?

No one. He's aroace and is happy to be single

Do Jessie and James have all their Pokémon in this AU

I think they have all the Pokémon that they did by the end of Mezase Pokémon Master (all their Pokémon that were left at HQ). Most of their released Pokémon have stayed released and the Alola Pokémon are still in Alola. I bring back Arbok and Weezing post-Jessie and Delia getting married. I may bring back Chimecho, Growlie and Cacnea if I think of an idea I like!

What are Meowth and James up to in this AU?

Hop back to the top of this post under the "Where to Start" section. All your questions will be answered.

Does Ash travel with anyone at this point of his life?

I don't have anyone in particular in mind! I could see him making new friends (Nemona???) or traveling with different combinations of old friends. Like him, Misty and Goh, him, Dawn and Cilan, him, Serena and Lillie etc.

Will Delia ever get over her phobia of snake Pokémon

Not fully! I think overcoming fears is fine and good but I think real PHOBIAS are much harder to get past and I don't want to cheapen it. She slowly gets used to Jessie's Seviper specifically and gets to the point where she can pet it comfortably with Jessie in the room. But otherwise, still scared and would need that same amount of time per Pokémon

Is Jessie gaining weight or is it just me?

Not just you! Jessie puts on a bit of relationship weight overtime as you'll see in the later comics in the timeline. Jessie grew in poverty, never knowing when her next meal would be and that continued into her life as a Team Rocket member. Once she was able to settle down (with a woman who runs her own restaurant no less) she's able to live a healthier lifestyle with regular meals and puts on some weight because of that.

Does Jessie ever feel self conscious about gaining weight?

Nope! She feels happier and healthier and hotter. She's also unreasonably excited to clear out her old clothes and get a new wardrobe.

Would Jessie and Delia ever have kids together or adopt?

Nah, Ash is enough for them! I have come up with hypothetical kids for them but they're not canon to this AU. Just a fun little thing for me.

Will you ever put this on webtoon?

Nah. People mostly ask me this because they want to read everything in the order of the timeline but to my knowledge, you can’t reorder chapters or installments which would defeat the purpose. I also don’t think nintendo fan stuff would fly there. Also, also it’s just extra work and another place to upload and I want to keep this all fun for myself~

#hanamusashipping #hanamusa #hanamusa comic #master post

[jyoongim]

You have so graciously written multiple of my asks 🫶🏻🫶🏻 thank you for doing them justice!!! 👁️👅👁️

I’m living for the alastor with cannibal reader!

What about the gang at the hotel sees alastor with a pretty new thing around his arm and she is just !!!!stunning!!! Like dark elegant (yet terrifying) grace. And everyone is like ????how did this old ass radio demon pull someone like you???

But they realize exactly why they fit so perfect when she kills someone (maybe defending the hotel) and just munches down on their corpse crazy style. Turning around, blood on their face, in their teeth with a wide smile like “I helped!!!” And then it clicks that she’s also a cannibal like him.

Everyone is all grossed out by it but Al thinks she has never looked prettier all covered in blood from her kill and meal. He even Wipes her face for her 😗😗😗

IM HAPPY THAT I HAVE DONE SO MANY OF YOUR REQUESTS AND YOU ENJOYED THEM!!!! I hope that i did this one justice.

Truly there was no way.

Their eyes HAD to be deceiving them.

Alastor had left the hotel to go on one of his outings but the gang was just too curious as to where the Overlord was going.

So like the mischievous nosy bunch they were; they followed him.

They followed him to a lovely restaurant and watched in shock as the waiter seated Alastor and the most beautiful demon they had ever seen.

Truly there was no way.

There was no way that ALASTOR was chatting up such a beautiful dame and NOT being creepy.

They watched from afar as Alastor pulled out a small box, presumingly a gift, and give you a genuine smile as you gawked and playfully glared at him before accepting it with a soft smile.

You were stunning!

 You must have died from an earlier time period as you were dressed in very modest attire.

A puffy white blouse tucked into a long black skirt, waist tapered by a corset to show off your curves. 

Your neck and ears wore pearls and your hair was curled and pinned up.

The epitome of grace and elegance. 

How the hell did that old fossil bag you???

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

”Oh Alastor! You didn’t have to!” You gasped as he presented a small gift box to you.

The red charmer demon smiled as you opened the box to see he had got you some customized jewelry.

The Radio Demon had been courting you for a while.

Sending you flowers and taking you out on several outings throughout the Pride Ring.

It took you a while to warm up to him, but he did have a way with persuasion Rosie told you he was a great guy and your bestie would never lie. Plus Alastor had been asking her about you

“Oh it was nothing my dear! A beautiful lady should have beautiful things. I thought it would compliment that new dress you got” Ah what a charmer.

As the two of you chatted and enjoyed each other's company, you had an eerie feeling you were being watched.

You shook off the feeling, it wasn’t too off putting as many people often staring as you accompanied the demon.

Besides, no one dared to approach the two of you anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor had asked you to come to the hotel so he could show you around.

He really only wanted you to meet the Princess, but the whole hotel was in attendance when Alastor opened the door to reveal you.

“No way Freaky Face bagged a broad like this?” Angel commented, causing Nifty giggled while the rest of the gang watched as Alastor showed you around.

All was going well…until there was a loud banging at the door.

rude much?

“Angel we know you’re here!” A voice shouted as the banging got louder.

You turned to see the tall spider start to shake a bit. 

You patted his arm and motioned him to take a seat and reassured him that all will be well.

Vaggie hissed as a window was knocked out.

”Oi come on out! Valentino wants to see you! We don’t mind using force whorebug!”

You felt your eye twitch.

the gang was trying to think of a way to get rid of them.

They were going to tear the hotel apart at this rate.

Charlie protested as you made your way to the lobby double doors and swung them open.

”Why hello gentlemen, is there a reason for such distasteful actions?” You smiled, but it was anything but friendly.

You took a step forward, a dark aura manifested around you as your eyes glows and teeth sharpened.

”Take her out boys! I’m sure the boss man would like a new toy!”

oh poor things.

You launched at the unexpected demon, sharp teeth at his neck and with a quick yank, his head was gone.

You heard horrified gasps as you moved to dispatch each disgusting creature.

”Ooh my dear you shouldn’t have” you heard Alastor say.

The gang had poked their heads out the front door and was shocked. There were dead bodies everywhere on the front lawn, bodies parts littering the ground. 

Angel and Vaggie gagged as they saw you, teeth deep,in a poor demon. You were shaking it like a dog would with a toy, until it flung out of your mouth, leaving your mouth bloody.

”OOH that’s sick so fucking sick!”

You grinned at Alastor, sharp teeth white a pale contrast to the bright blood smeared on your face .

You shyly tucked a strand of loose hair, standing to dust yourself off. “Ooh i do apologize Alastor. They were just being rude and ruining the exterior! Such disgusting things! They didn’t even deserve the grace to be eaten! How dare they try to-”

You were pulled from your murderous ramble by a soft cloth on your face. You blinked, eyes focusing on Alastor’s smiling face.

”Knew you would look good in red” 

You blushed as he wiped the blood from your chin.

”Oh stop it. You know red doesn’t suit me” you playfully hit his chest. He hummed, ignoring your comment as he cleaned your face.

”I think you look ravishing’ he purred as he licked your blood-stained cheek.

You giggled and held up a liver for him to bite.

In the background the gang was flabbergasted.

so that was HOW Alastor bagged a bad bitch?

shes a fucking cannibal…huh who would have knew?

Well you had to be some sort of freaky to be entertaining the Radio Demon.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor x y/n #alastor smut #hazbin hotel fluff #alastor fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagines

[planetnini]

LOVE TO KEEP ME WARM !

࿔･ﾟ*࿐ for the first time ever satoru is left puzzled just by a simple question from tsumiki, but he knows just how to prove his love for you + gn!reader. fluff with some angst— use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), found family trope <3, girl dad satoru agenda, he is a bit insecure but it gets resolved, cutest fucking declaration of love ever, surprises! snow shenanigans, mistletoe kiss, satoru is the best boyfie ever i love him (5.8k words)

notes. this is a gift!!!! so it will cater to the interests and personality of my person but everything else is very vague :) merry new years secret santa thing @scarameows-world !!!! very late by the time this gets published but whtever.. i'm the reindeer that's been up in your inbox <3 we had alot of good talks and i hope we can stay in touch after this :") now here's a cute little fic i made for you about the one and only gojo satoru. title is inspired by this song

gojo satoru is a man whose proficiency knows no bounds. he is a force to be reckoned with ushering a new era of powerful sorcerers and curses due to his possession of both the six eyes and limitless technique. he could do almost anything as one might expect and everything came naturally to him. he never had any doubts about himself, but then came along you. 

satoru was a natural when it came to flirting, but he was not accustomed to the rejection he faced in his early days when you would ‘let him down easy’– it was nothing short of disastrous, always ending in banter between you two. yet somehow you had your wicked ways of making him chase even though all you two did was flirt. after several attempts to woo you and you finally stepping up, one thing led to another now here you were, co-parenting two kids with the man you once swore you’d never be with. satoru was 100% sure that he would be yours for infinity, but it wavered on this particular day. 

satoru was on a little errand run with tsumiki whom he had entrusted with pushing the trolley around as he scanned the list you had made for tonight’s dinner and activity. she was a young and incredibly happy girl who was much friendlier than her brother, megumi. when satoru adopted the two, tsumiki had taken a liking to him immediately whilst megumi took a liking towards you so he had taken her on the trip. it had been going well, with them doing the final grocery run after spending what felt like hours picking out the perfect wreath for the front door, however tsumiki’s question stopped him right in his tracks.

“do you love y/n?” she asked, a little curious look decorating her features.

“that’s a silly question. of course i do!” he uttered, scanning the wreaths with his eyes picking out the perfect one because quite frankly, he didn’t know how to react. 

people naturally assume that growing up from a family who viewed him as an ornament and coddled him that he would be a closed book or lacking in social skills but his first few years at jujutsu tech proved everyone wrong: he was not just a pretty face who could get away with just that. in the end, his love for others was his weakness and tsumiki had brought up something that satoru had failed to anticipate. what did she see that satoru couldn’t and was that even possible?

she took the wreath from his hands and put it into the trolley bringing him back to the present, “how do you know you love y/n?” she paused, and tsumiki must be sadistic for making him suffer like this, “what does it feel like?” she asked, looking up at him.

satoru looked down at the child, surprised by her questions. he paused for a moment, considering how to articulate such an answer to a complex question. was it that hard to believe that gojo satoru was capable of loving someone?

while satoru would never admit it at the start, he needed megumi and tsumiki more than they needed him. after suguru’s defect, they especially reminded him that sometimes blood wasn’t all that important when it came to the people you loved. he loved them but in a completely different way than he loved you. a love so unequivocal that it was impossible for people not to know how truly and deeply in love satoru was with you, so he wasn’t sure where he went wrong but perhaps it wasn’t enough.

“well,” he began a thoughtful look on his face, “loving someone is different to everyone. i guess i can’t really explain it other than a warm, fuzzy feeling inside and it makes you feel like everything is right…” he replied, her eyes lighting up with understanding, “you care for their happiness the most, that you’d even share your favourite candy.” he chuckled with a playful glint in his eyes, trying not to sound too sentimental.

“so you feel warm and fuzzy when you see y/n?” she looked up curiously at satoru.

he chuckled, ruffling the child's hair, "yeah, exactly. now come on, let’s finish this quickly so we can go home. get something for yourself and your brother.” he winked to which tsumiki nodded eagerly, seemingly satisfied with his answer as she rushed down the aisle finding something to bring home.

the atmosphere between satoru and the girl was no longer tense but satoru’s mind was swirling. he was reflecting on the innocence of the question as he took control of the trolley now, finished with his chores for the day. he even went as far as buying you something too but tsumiki had inadvertently planted a seed of doubt in his mind and now satoru was spiralling. did he love you enough? was his warm and fuzzy feelings strong and genuine, or was it something he convinced himself of after everything that went down? the simplicity of her question left satoru questioning himself and for the first time in forever, he is unsure of his relationship with you.

“i thought i told you that they can’t stay up late.” you spoke while washing the dishes. satoru could only lightly chuckle as he rinsed the plate, putting it on the drying rack. he knew you only meant well but he enjoyed seeing you like this more than he had expected: seeing you so worried and being such a caring person towards them. it was not like he had forced you to take care of them, it was through your own volition that you practically raised them.

“come on…” he drawled a little pout on his lips, “they said they didn’t want to decorate the tree without you tomorrow.” he reasoned, knowing that the two children in the living room were your true weakness and that just as much as you do for them, they’d do for you too. the way a simple sentence morphed your furrowed brows into a look of gratitude proved his point.

“do they actually want to decorate the tree with me or is it only because you bought them sweets today?” you accused.

“they’re much older now,” he reassured with a tone you doubt has any good intentions, “besides, i think it’s fair if we stop their ban on sweets, don’t you?” he asked with a simple hip nudge and you roll your eyes at the gesture.

he was happy with this, with how things were going in your life right now, in fact he couldn’t get enough of it. his request was simple, but you wasted no time immediately retaliating, “you just want to freely eat your sweets and use them as an excuse.” 

“what little faith you have in me!” he gasped and you have to stifle a laugh, “plus, they’re kinda scary when they don't get their way.” he joked, leaning back on the counter with his arms crossed to get a better view of you who had just finished washing and drying your hands after dinner. 

“how the higher-ups trust someone like you on those missions, i have no idea. i wonder how they would react if they found out you can’t handle two children.” you said, flashing him a smile. mentioning the higher-ups in the conversation made satoru’s blood boil but it had been tamed when he caught that little shake of your head combined with your smile. he had been contemplating the nature and depth of his feelings for you but tonight had proved that it was all a fluke– just seeing you was enough to remind him that nothing about loving you could ever be doubted, because loving you was as natural as breathing.

satoru leaned down to meet your eyes as you turned to face him, “sweetheart, if you want me home instead of on missions, you could just say so.” he smirked– a signature gojo satoru look that you couldn’t tell if you loved or hated.

you narrowed your eyes at him, “i hope you get put on more missions.” 

“you wound me.” he grunted, a hand over his heart feigning hurt but you knew that he was joking.

“you can take it.” you hummed, eyebrows scrunching as he stared down at you lovingly with a smile etched across his face.

there have been so many moments between you, satoru and the kids that blossomed with joy– something that felt lost in a world rife of evil– but you forget that you’re both still fairly young, thwarted into roles of guardians. you loved satoru since you were teens and seeing that this was your first relationship ever, it is only normal to feel insecure, and normal that you have doubts that satoru could ever truly love you.

while staring at satoru your mind can’t help but swirl with thoughts and he catches on immediately, perceptive as ever due to his six eyes and well, being gojo satoru. he sees it in your contemplative sighs that he had been hearing throughout the week, in your crafted smile, the way your shoulders are tensed and your jaw clenched: he knows you’re feeling some way right now because even your eyes don’t have their usual spark. your name rolls off his tongue so naturally, as if he was born to say it, as he reaches up to brush his hand across your cheek.

“what’s on your mind?” he questioned with a tilt of his head, thumb caressing your cheek. to him, the signs are as clear as day that you were troubled with thoughts of something and he wouldn’t rest until he found out what was going on in that beautiful mind of yours.

that warm fuzzy feeling intensified, secret moments between the two of you that the young girl was unaware of. it’s times like this you’re grateful that satoru is so in touch with how you felt most times and you can’t help the relief that settles in your heart when you realise you were so lucky to have him in your life, “it’s nothing,” you shook your head with a smile plastered on your face, “just… thank you for everything you did the other day,” you said, genuinely appreciative of his contribution to megumi’s birthday dinner, “i know you don’t think that he likes you but he really does look up to you.” you admitted.

“my charms aren’t all that bad.” he hummed, a proud nod as you snorted at his holier-than-thou tone.

your eyes closed at the soft contact of his lips on the crown of your head, warmth spreading all throughout your body during the cold winter month. you crave him and his touch, and you’re lucky that he hasn’t been put on any missions, specifically requested (he threatened the higher-ups knowing his status) to stay home with you and the others for just a couple of weeks. a small sigh left his lips as he started moving his hands away from your face up over his blindfold, the loss of contact made you pout slightly. your hand came over his, stopping him with a simple action, “are you sure you want them off?” you whispered, your voice dripping with concern.

“i want to see you.” he said, without an ounce of hesitation in his response. 

“i don’t like the migraines it gives you when you have them off.” you retaliated as you shook your head resolutely. he wants to listen to you, seeing how much you cared for him and laid your heart out for him. the love you had for him was overflowing and he did not know how he got so lucky.

“i can take it,” he insisted, voice a mix of both amusement and affection, “besides, i’ll endure any and all amounts of pain just for you.”

“after that declaration, i better not hear a complaint out of you.” you said, smiling up at him as you begin to unwrap the blindfold yourself. your delicate fingers moved the bandages around his head, undoing the white bandages. the gesture made satoru relax in your touch as you pulled them away from his face. being able to let his guard down after suguru had been difficult but you were a rare (and lucky) case.

once the bandages are undone, you can see that he’s wincing and squinting, probably due to the oversensitivity. adjusting to his surroundings, you brush his cheek with your thumb and his eyes flutter open to have a look at you, “hi beautiful.” he breathes out, utterly captivated by you.

you mirrored his look, squinting as you leaned forward with a smile wanting nothing more than to kiss him until– 

“what’s taking so long?” tsumiki yelled, surprising you and making the two of you jump from your spot. if satoru was masking his pain before, he wasn’t doing so now as he screwed his eyes shut and you feel extra protective of satoru now that his blindfold was off. he was extra sensitive to loud surroundings so when she came in shouting the two of you with his guard fully down, you knew satoru probably was still adjusting to having his blindfold off with the kids.

“did your brother put you up to this?” you asked.

“we were just wondering where you two were.” she replied bashfully.

“i told you they were kissing.” megumi groaned from behind her and if you weren’t embarrassed before, you wanted to dig your grave now that he had said it out loud.

“actually, we were rudely interrupted.” satoru complained, narrowing his eyes at megumi. living with them, you know how much megumi truly looked up to satoru but moments like this question why they were always at each other’s neck

megumi rolled his eyes, “have some manners you two,�� you ordered, making tsumiki chuckle a bit, “i’m sorry for making you guys wait so long.” you apologised and you see megumi nod slightly at you.

“are you two in cahoots?” satoru whispered in your ear but you pushed him away jokingly. megumi was first to leave the room and tsumiki followed suit, but before satoru joined the two, you reached out grabbing his hand, “i know you said no presents this year, but-” you said, handing him a wrapped rectangular box.

“you said no presents for christmas.” he blurted out, confusion taking over his features.

“well, i sometimes doubt if you ever listen to me,” you looked up at him and you would be right because satoru had bought and wrapped your gift already, “just think of it as a very belated birthday present then.” you smiled at him, anticipating his reaction to your gift.

he opened the box carefully and he could see an engraving on a case, and his heart sunk. he knew he was in love with you, but was it possible to love you even more than he already had? he picked up the case and took out the special glasses he wore when he went out instead of the usual blindfold.

“i remember you said you needed new ones after they broke.”

“correction, when megumi broke my other ones.” he corrected. you rolled your eyes at him, and give him a light peck on the cheek, “thank you.” he spoke before you could make your way to help the children. 

“don’t break them again, i’m not made of money satoru.” you warned and situated yourself on the floor, sitting cross legged as you peered over at what the two had been up to when you and satoru were in the kitchen. tsumiki was unboxing some tinsel and megumi was taking care of the ornaments. to be honest, you weren’t sure when you became one of those families who went full out for christmas. the only things you ever really did was presents or stockings and having dinner together. you were overlooking the process, not really helping, or rather not knowing how to as you had never really had a tree let alone decorate one. 

“you’re not going to help?” tsumiki questioned, with a tilt of her head as she began to decorate the tree.

all the attention is turned to you now as you shake your head untangling some of the lights for the tree, “i mean, i’ve never really celebrated christmas with a tree and it’s for you guys right?”

“that’s sick and twisted!” satoru gasped, slumping down right next to you with his new sunglasses, “so you mean you’ve never had a christmas tree?” he exclaimed, and quite frankly you don’t really see the big deal.

“i wasn’t blessed with being born into a family like yours.” you teased and he took serious offence to that, not because he was offended by your comment but more so your nonchalance. 

“well, anything you want to do for christmas?” megumi asked, putting some of the ornaments on the tree. he always had an artistic perspective and you were glad he was putting so much thought into where each one went.

“i’m not going to be home until late at night, but i guess i’ve always wanted it to snow big enough that i could build a snowman.” you shrugged, looking at the kids.

“that’s impossible.” megumi groaned.

“how are we going to get it to snow?” she exclaimed.

“exactly. it’s alright,” you reassured as you stood up from your spot, “as long as i’ve got you guys, that’s all i could ask for.” you winked at them as you helped them get to the higher spots of the tree. satoru sits there watching as you now start to help the two decorate the tree and decide to help out. you are too distracted to see that his mind is swirling with ideas– he is determined to make your christmas a little more special and he has some ideas up his sleeve that he can’t wait to use.

you feel the exhaustion of staying up late last night settle deep into your bones when you’re on your way home from the mission. it wasn’t like you didn’t get enough sleep, you got just the perfect amount but not being home today to celebrate with the kids and satoru kind of made your heart sink. it had always been the four of you the entire day and sometimes occasionally with the others but being away from home, away from them had taken a big toll on your heart.

you wiped at your eyes with a yawn as you began making your way down the path to your house. the cool winter night was in full swing, trees moving slightly in the small rush of wind that passed by along with the small sprinkles of snow.  you took a deep breath and rubbed over your arms as you looked up at the sky. you weren’t lying when you said you wanted snow, it had always been a dream of yours to see falling snow, and enough that it might be enough to build a snowman, it was just something that hadn’t happened in a long time. 

you reached the house but the eerily quietness and lack of light concerned you, were they watching a movie or something or did they go out and not tell you beforehand? you brushed off your worries, unlocking the door walking into an empty house. the whole room was dark, nothing could be heard and your heart was stuck in your chest, stopping at just the mere thought of not being completely alone right now. 

you could hear some whispers and instinctively your hand went up, charging up your cursed technique as you hear some shuffling until an array of fairy lights went off above you, decorated meticulously going up the stairs and some nice garlands all around, warm lighting and while you’re staring at the lights, you don’t notice the three standing right in front of you.

“welcome home.” they shouted, and you swear you had felt that much relief in your entire life.

“i could’ve hurt you guys!” you exclaimed, a hand over your heart. the soft vinyl record you distinctly remember shoko gifting you after seeing you eye it last christmas playing from the living room, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“well that defeats the whole point of a surprise if i told you, right guys?” he said, and it is only now you realise that he has a santa hat on with the other two in ugly sweaters. you know megumi would be less than happy to be dressed in this right now but you assume he did so for you and couldn’t help the way the corner of your lips curved up at the sight. this… this is what you loved about your little family, and you knew it was wrong to call it a family– the two kids aren’t yours, and you’re not married to satoru but this moment, combined with the cute late night you shared with them just the night prior confirmed that you were all closer than that and how much they loved you.

“you did not need to do this for me,” you sighed, a little overwhelmed by how well decorated everything was. you hadn’t even noticed the holly, the bells, candles, and a bunch of other festive decorations– they really went all out. you wonder just how they pulled it all together but then you remembered that satoru would stop at nothing when it came to his gestures, “and you definitely did not need to drag them into this.” you added, kneeling down in front of them so that you could hug tsumiki and as you stood up you looked at megumi and ruffled his hair despite how much you know he hated when satoru did it, when you did it, you weren’t met with the same grumpy huff.

satoru gasped, “hey, these two were asking if you’d like them and i pointed them in one direction okay?” he defended but as you looked down at the two they were shaking their heads as if to refute his words, “don’t listen to them. they did it because they love you just as much as i do.”

respectfully, you hated satoru but not in a way that was malicious but for always making you feel like the luckiest person on earth. for being friends with you back then when it seemed like the world wasn’t on your side, for allowing you to stay in his life after losing his friend, for letting you take care of two of the most beautiful children ever. he was one of the sweetest people you ever knew and you doubt any gift or gesture would be enough to make up for the man that he is. without realising you had tears stream down your face, and you bring your hand up over your face to cover it. you weren’t usually the type to cry over something so trivial but here you were.

“i can’t believe you made y/n cry on christmas.” megumi complained, trying to lighten the mood as tsumiki’s mouth dropped.

"y/n's fine!" satoru reassured and you can’t help but laugh as you wiped away some of the tears. before you could speak satoru went over to you, engulfing you in a hug, “you better not apologise for crying. there’s nothing you need to be sorry for.” he reassured, rubbing circles on your back. you nod profusely, trying to keep yourself calm in front of the others (not that they’d never seen you cry before) before pulling away from the hug. you stared into his cerulean eyes, out and free from their usual blindfold or glasses, “it’s nice to see you my love.” he whispered, meant only for your ears. 

you chuckled, pressing your lips into his cheek before turning around, “how about we open some gifts? how does that sound?” you smiled and their eyes lit up, brighter than the lights all inside the house and they scattered off like little mice to the living room where the tree was, with quite a few presents under the tree (courtesy of satoru’s money but joint in terms of thinking of what to get them) and you followed behind. satoru threw his arm over your shoulder as you took a seat on the couch as they got ready to unwrap their gifts.

“are you hungry?” he asked softly as they started unwrapping their gifts, the one in the penguin wrapping paper which satoru had wrapped up himself.

“i had something to eat on the way back.” you reassured and he nodded.

the two had spent quite a while opening satoru’s gifts. you noticed that the presents were some things the two children had mentioned once a very long time ago and were quite surprised that satoru had hand picked these gifts himself without asking you for help. you knew that he noticed every little detail about the people in his life but it made you wonder if he got you a gift after you said not to. you wouldn’t be mad if he didn’t get you one and vice versa.

“i got you that one.” you spoke, trying to contain your excitement as megumi picked up your gift, wrapped in some candy cane paper. you watched as he unwrapped it, revealing a digital camera and you hear tsumiki exclaim, excited for her gift now.

“a camera?”

you sat up, moving away from satoru as you leaned forward, “i know there aren’t that many pictures of you guys around the house so i got you that so we could start printing some out and putting them up.” 

megumi couldn’t hold in his gratitude any longer bringing you in for a hug, “thank you y/n.” he said, and you hugged him back, kissing him on the cheek. satoru was going to make a comment about how he also wanted a hug after all the gifts he gave but it was a special moment shared between the two of you and he was not going to ruin the moment.

as megumi was setting up his camera with satoru’s help, you turned to tsumiki and watched as she unwrapped her own gift, she looked up from the box to you with shock all over her face, “y/n…” she whispered, voice cracking, “i can’t take this.” she said, handing you back the box.

“hey.. it's okay,” you reassured, lightly pushing the box back in her direction, “it’s a gift tsumiki.” 

you watched her pull out the necklace, the stunning small heart shaped engraved with her initial on it but that wasn’t all you got her. after observing the necklace and helping her put it on, she opened a box that contained a letter, telling her of how much you adored her with special keepsakes from some memories you shared throughout the year. you have never seen her so happy and when she hugged you, you catch the stare that satoru is giving you– absolutely entranced by how much you loved them. a simple flash takes you off guard as megumi takes his first picture on the camera.

“how about you guys get your coats, i have something to give y/n.” satoru stated and they ran off with excitement in their bones at his plan. he had filled them in but they weren't convinced he could pull it off.

“talk about a successful night.” you chuckled, picking up the wrapping paper and throwing it in the bag that satoru was holding. 

“get changed.” he spoke, taking the bag from you and now it’s your turn to be surprised again.

“what? where are we going?”

after getting changed, suspicion arising from his sudden ask of getting changed. you walk out of your room seeing everyone in their coats, scarves, and you watch as the children begin to walk out first leaving the two of you alone. 

“what are you up to satoru?” you questioned, furrowing your brows. 

“since you thought you could cheat your way around buying me a gift,” he replied honestly, which took you off guard, “i thought it was only fair if i got you some things as well.” there was a small box in his hand, and you took it from his hand. you held your breath as you unwrapped the paper to see a box tied with a ribbon. you opened the box, revealing nothing but a sheet of paper.

you definitely weren’t the ungrateful type but you were expecting something else like maybe a ring, a necklace or something else but as you examined the paper you looked up at him with your mouth wide open. it was a receipt of something you had been eyeing for a couple months but nothing you could excuse spending money on. you had been an avid lover since you were young and it was always your dream to have one of these.

“satoru.” you said, honestly starstruck at his gift.

“you have been eyeing that for so long,” he reasoned with a simple nudge of the shoulder, "merry christmas."

“i can’t accept this.” you shook your head, giving it back to him but you know it is relentless to deny his gifts especially after you pulled your little secret gift on him the other day.

satoru gave you a stare and pursed his lip, “you are keeping it. end of discussion.” he smiled as he started to wrap a scarf around you. satoru had always looked good in winter clothing, a scarf tucked around his neck and due to his infinity, he was never cold but still dressed to the occasion with his designer brands. he was so handsome…

“and since you’re not saying anything i'm assuming you don't like it?” he taunted. you told your brain to make a coherent sentence or at least move so you don’t make a fool of yourself just looking at the gift. you stared up at him, you used your free hand to push the scarf down from the bottom half of your face, "you know i thought you weren't going to get me anything?"

satoru had never stopped at any words faster than he had those, "what?" he answered with a shaky voice.

you scoffed holding his hand in yours, looking anywhere but into his eyes, "i thought you might do a whole 'i'm your gift' thing," you admitted, a little ashamed you had such little faith in him, "i guess you do love me."

"y/n..." he uttered, "if i have ever made you doubt i love you then i have failed as your boyfriend," he spoke and you could feel your whole body warm at his words. "you are everything to me even if you and megumi are in cahoots and pray on my downfall." he said and you shoved him. he winced lightly at the push and smiled as he pulled you close to him once more, eyes moving down to your lips then back up to your eyes.

“that was really sweet of you.” you uttered, looking up at him.

“sweet enough for a kiss?”

“unless you make it snow, i’m not kissing you.” 

“i think i deserve just one…” he teased as he leaned closer to you.

a hand suddenly grabbed yours, tsumiki's gloved one, and once again stealing that moment between you and satoru, "y/n! didn't you hear me?" she gasped as you saw the wet snow on her coat go from crystal into a wet drop.

"what happened? is megumi okay? are you okay?" you asked, hand brushing over her face as if to check for any injuries.

"it's snowing!" she exclaimed as she made her way back out.

you looked over at satoru baffled but you could just see him smile at you mischievously and you run out and to your surprise, the snow is pouring down from the sky and you now know that your christmas wish has been satisfied. looking up at the sky, you put your hand out as the snow falls into your hand and you chuckle even though you are freezing your ass off.

the children began throwing snowballs at each other and one hits you at the back of the head and you turn to see all three of them standing there staring at you. they all point at gojo before you decide to pick up some snow for yourself throwing it at him back, thankful his infinity was still down.

you truly appreciate satoru doing his best to make you happy because it was all you ever wanted. he got a snowball in the face before falling down on the floor, and all of you chuckled at him landing on his back as he began to sit up, snow covering his whole back side and all in his hair.

you knelt in the snow and began to make the snowman you've always wanted to during christmas with the help of the two and when you're done you notice him standing at the front porch just staring as tsumiki started doing snow angels and megumi's two wolf shikigami joining him in the snow. you don't know when he let them out but you just smiled as you approached satoru, "what are you doing here?"

"just admiring you," he complimented and you shake your head, "did i do okay?"

you stare at him in bewilderment before moving to press a kiss to his cheek, "you did well satoru. more than that if possible."

he smiled cheekily and you move your hand to drag him back into the snow, "come on..." you hummed as you tried to pull him away from the front porch but he refused to move and you stare at him with a tilt of the head, "what's wrong?"

"you said you would kiss me if i made it snow.” he recalled, hand on his chin as he tried to refresh your memory.

“how the hell did you manage to make it snow?” you snickered but he didn’t look like he was joking. you don’t know how he managed, he would never say but you shook your head, “sorry babe, i don’t think you can control the weather… it is quite unpredictable.” you shrugged, giving him a fake guilty look.

“it’s a christmas miracle!” he yelped with his smile that you know and have grown to adore so much and you follow his gaze to the mistletoe above your head, "you know the rules." he seethed trying to seem nonchalant.

"you're an idiot," you laughed before holding his face in your hands, tiptoeing a bit before pressing your lips to his. you pulled away and brushed his lips with your thumb a little, "i love you satoru, always."

he could only pull you back in for another kiss, smiling as he did so as the kids exclaimed in disgust and horror at the sight. "i love you y/n. here's to many more years with you." he whispered when he pulled away. it was a christmas you will never forget and one that tsumiki and megumi will also never forget, dramatically reminding you that they were traumatised from your little kiss.

tags! @stsgluver @sukxma (thank you for hosting the event)

i hope you love this lynne, i apologise it's not my best work and i'm sorry it took so long. i love you, i hope you're doing well

#yours truly nini #jjksecretsanta2023 #i love the found family trope #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satorugojo #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk satoru #megumi #megumi fushiguro #tsumiki #tsumiki fushiguro #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo angst #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo angst #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo fics #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo imagines #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fic

[rad-batson]

Headcanons of Tim and Damian’s Love/Hate/But-Mostly-Begrudging-Love Relationship (They’re My Babies)

They will take EVERY opportunity to be a little bitch to one another

Tim: “Don’t get too close to me. You probably have rabies.” Damian: *actually bites him*

Damian tripped Tim once, which started an all out prank war that lasted several months. It only ended when Bruce walked into a glue trap and couldn’t reach his phone to call for help. But he couldn’t figure out who put it there so they were both grounded. (It was Tim.)

Tim teaches Damian to finish his vine references when Bruce tells them they need to “bond.” They proceed to try and speak in exclusively vine references and TikTok sounds during patrol. Bruce benches them for his own sanity.

Damian: “I’m not touching you” *gets pushed down the stairs*

Tim: “I’m not in your room” *gets hit in the face with a book*

Tim calls Damian short even tho he’s only like two inches taller for quite a bit of time (and Damian never hears the end of it after Tim’s growth spurt)

Family Game Night could go in one of two ways: they’re opponents and spend the whole night one-upping each other OR they team up and wipe the floor with everyone else’s pieces

Damian: “Just trust me.” Tim: *remembering that one time Damian tried to kill him* “Okay.”

Tim: “Don’t ask questions.” Damian: *recalling the multiple genocidal Tim variants* “Whatever.”

During one Wayne Gala, they make up this game called Freestyle Checkers where they choose guests as their “pieces” then subtly manipulate them into walking to their opponent’s side of the ballroom without talking to someone from the other team or they’re out. No one can know that they’re part of a game or their opponent wins by default.

Bruce is proud of them at first for being more sociable during galas until he realizes what’s going on and immediately loses five years from his lifespan.

Both have attempted to fake their deaths to get out of the same school project

They’re both notorious for stalking people to get information instead of just…ya know…asking like a normal person. So they’re bound to team up one day.

Like maybe it’s Bruce’s birthday soon and both are like “No, I’m getting him the better present,” but then they run into each other in the vents trying to find out what he wants and they end up trading secrets. Just brotherly things

Tim: “I need you to follow this guy for me. I think he’s our culprit.” Damian: “I would rather die than take orders from you.” Tim: “I’ll buy you that fancy oil painting kit you want.” Damian: *already changing into his Robin gear* “Where is he?”

Tim makes Damian play the dumb, helpless kid in all of their covert operations, which pisses Damian off until he gets so good at it that he uses it to his advantage and annoys the hell out of Tim when they’re paired up for public appearances

“God, he’s so annoying.” “Yeah, totally.” “What the fuck did you say about my brother?”

Damian is the only person who can get Tim to actually sleep for once. No one knows how he does it, but the strongest theory so far is blackmail

Tim “I’m ignoring Bruce’s instructions because they failed the vibe check” Drake and Damian “I can totally do this mission that requires four people on my own” Wayne teaming up behind Bruce’s back and immediately getting into deep shit but somehow making it out alive with the bad guys behind bars.

During one of said missions, they thought they were going to die and said “I love you” to one another. After they survived, they silently agreed to never mention it again.

Damian gifts Tim a new board that he designed for his birthday. It took weeks. Tim cries

#tim drake #damian wayne #batfam #dc #dc robin #red robin #robin damian #batfamily #incorrect batfamily quotes #they love each other #dc universe #damian al ghul

[thot-of-khonshu]

Friendship Defined (Joel Miller x f! reader)

Summary: You and Joel have been friends with benefits for months. The blurred lines have you questioning what exactly makes a friend just a friend?

Warnings: 18+. MDNI. Mentions of sex (oral, p in v), mention of periods, fwb! Joel, non outbreak AU, implied age gap, fluff

Word Count:~800

Author’s Note: Thank you to the lovely @swiftiscruff ( @swiftispunk & @joelscruff ) for coming up with this idea.

This one shot is dedicated to all of you.

I’ve been in this fandom for a few years now and as much as I’ve wanted to I still have trouble putting myself out there to make friends in the fandom. I usually just put out my stories and go about my day.

Well I want that to change!

This was such a beautiful idea and such a great reminder of how wonderful fandom can be. To be able to connect with so many talented people is such a gift and I want to try to get to know you guys more. This is my official post to put myself out there - so if anyone wants to come into my asks or DMs or message me on Discord please do!! I wanna be your friend lol!!

To celebrate this momentous weekend of friendship and fandom, I’ve created a Joel one shot all about friendship. With benefits lol. Enjoy!!

Joel would always introduce you as his friend. 

Friend being a blanket term but it did seem to fit into your large, intricate clusterfuck of whatever you were. 

Sure, in the literal sense you were friends. Ever since you met Joel through his little brother Tommy, a group of you would go out every Friday to the same bar for a beer and darts. 

Then when Tommy met Maria and everyone else in your group started to couple up, you had more time to spend together. 

It started off with friendly dart competitions that lasted a bit too long. Shots that would start to last until closing time. A shared Uber to one house because “it’ll save money”. 

Cut to Joel eating you out on your kitchen counter. And getting fucked in the shower that next morning. And then suddenly several times a week you’re trying to plan strategic ways on how to exit at different times so it didn’t seem suspicious. It didn’t matter, though. Tommy knew and would take the moment Joel left to fuck with him about it.

So if everyone else knew, why didn’t either of you know what this was? You didn’t want to bring it up because the idea of him getting freaked out and ending things made your chest tight.

You were so in your head about this arrangement that one night after leaving Joel’s house after watching and the Fast and the Furious and then having the ride of your life on his dick afterwards, you came home and immediately opened your laptop to do some soul and site searching. 

Is this still technically a friendship at least according to Merriam-Webster terms? 

friendship

noun. friend· ship ˈfren(d)-ˌship 

1: the state of being friends

….Google search number two: 

friend

noun. ˈfrend 

plural friends

1: one attached to another by affection or esteem

There are several other definitions for the word friend. 

2: One who is not hostile. 

Joel was never hostile with you. He was adorably patient when you took too long to decide what you wanted when you went out to dinner. He never hesitated to say sure when you wanted to try what was on his plate. 

The hardest he’s ever pressed onto you was when your ex boyfriend showed up at the bar one night. Once he made a beeline to talk to you, Joel’s massive hand snaked around your waist to pull you into him so he could know any talk with you tonight was off limits. You were off limits. 

The idea of Joel being so possessive made you so wet that you blew him in the alley that night. 

3:  one that favors or promotes something (such as a charity)

It takes you back to one of the first times you had slept with him. You were sprawled across his bed as he peeled your leggings from your body. You spread open for him as he pushed your thong aside to fit his thick finger into your hole. 

He curved his finger into you and came closer, feeling his breath on your clit.

Instinctively you blurted out, “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”

Joel looked up at you with a serious expression.

“None of my other exes really liked to do this.”

Without hesitation, Joel settled between your thighs again.

“Well then I guess I'm going to be your new favorite.” And with that, he slid his finger back inside you, this time with more intent. You let out a moan as he teased your clit with his finger, reminding you of why he was indeed your favorite.

4: a favored companion

You think about the late nights picking up french fries at McDonalds when you convince Joel out of the house past his bedtime on Saturday nights. You remember the nights you had your period and he still wanted you to come over so he could cook you dinner; your cramps dulling as he soothed you on the couch. 

You think of how nice it is to just be with him. Laying naked and vulnerable, hearing things he hasn’t even told Tommy. 

You go back to Google. 

“What is the definition of a romantic relationship?” you type, the clacking of your keys sounding louder than ever. 

Before you can press enter, your phone rings loudly and startles you. It’s Joel. You pick up. 

“Hey. Just checkin’ in.” He says. “You left kinda quick so I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Yeah.” You feel your heart swell inside your chest. You can’t stop grinning. “I’m perfectly fine.” 

“Oh…” You can see the crease form in his forehead when saying that. “You didn’t have to go or nothin’, I just didn’t know if you were sick.” 

“You’re my best friend.” You tell him, unaffected at how random that must seem for Joel to hear. “You know that, right?” 

But instead of being suspicious, Joel's voice softens. You’ve only heard this voice in passing, with Sarah on the other end.

“Yeah, I know. You’re my best friend too.”

You didn't realize how much that simple affirmation meant to you until you heard it.

There was a pause on the other end, a moment of shared unspoken understanding, a thick air of tension and want, and then you both spoke at once.

"Would you like to come back over?"

"Hey, I was just about to ask if I could come back over," you blurted out, suddenly feeling a little bold. “Maybe spend the night?”

The two of you laughed together; you closed your eyes and envisioned the crinkle in his eyes. His soft brown eyes are on you as he shakes his head in disbelief. What the hell are you still doing at home?

“I wouldn’t want anything more.”

That’s what friends are for, right?

#ppcugiftexchange2024 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x f!reader #Joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #joel tlou

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS SYZOTH | REPTILE MK1 WITH S/O

A/N: Some people asked for Syzoth, so here you horny b*tches. Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post, comments and reblogs are welcome♡

TW: sfw and smut headcanons, afab reader, masculine and feminine pronouns used in pet names "good boy/good girl", breeding kink, vaginal sex.

Syzoth is a caring and protective lover. He's the kind of man who knows what it's like to lose everything, he lost his family because of Shang Tsung, so he will love you and cling to you as if you were his last chance to be happy in the world - what a technical, and truth -

He met you after helping Liu Kang and his fighters, you were a citizen of the earthly plane and met Syzoth through Liu himself, he said that the two of you would make a cute couple, making Syzoth blush slightly when he looked at you and then looked away. his face flushed but he knew it was true, you really were a beautiful and kind person, everything he was looking for in a life partner.

He started visiting you, bringing you flowers he picked himself, of several different species, some still came with fresh dirt on the stem but what mattered was the man's intention, right?

Syzoth would jump up to your window in the middle of the night, so to be with you, he would also maybe watch you sleep, sometimes the concept can be scary but he likes to see you lying there, peacefully and protected from the world and the evils of men. He even swore to protect you regardless of what happened, he failed one family, he wasn't going to fail another.

Syzoth and you dated for years until he asked you to marry him, he hoped to save the necessary money and also build - himself - a house for the two of you, it would be a house in the forest, fairy tale style, with a flower garden in the background, a small lake in front and several little animals scattered around the property, a dream that Syzoth has always had of a calm and homely life.

Your wedding was simple, few people were invited and it was the first and last time he wore a suit in his life, a fine suit given as a gift by Johnny Cage - who was invited to be best man at your wedding, along with from Ashrah, who was the godmother - it was a quick but extremely beautiful ceremony, being held in Empress Sindel's gardens, she herself authorized the ceremony, while you were able to smile and shed tears of emotion.

You two will have a calm and simple life, with Syzoth giving you everything for a comfortable day to day life. He will also be the type who prefers you to stay at home, he is extremely paranoid because of Shang Tsung's traumas, in other words, he will give the speech: "-You are my husband/wife, I will give you everything I want." you need in this life, just stay home and take care of yourself, please (Y/N).” -He says this in a calm but emotional voice, gently taking him in his arms, while holding back tears as he remembers the family he lost, please, just stay at home for this man.

Syzoth is the type who also loves knowing the culture of the earthly plane, he didn't even know what a cell phone was so if you give him one, he will be confused, but he learns extremely quickly - He will use your photo in everything, like wallpaper, profile icon etc, he has basic social networks to communicate with you, you found about 56 calls from Johnny to him, and he didn't answer any of them leaving poor Cage talking to himself -

He likes to hang out indoors when the two of you are alone. You will see him practically 24 hours a day naked around the house, exposing his physique and tattoos to you, hugging you from behind and kissing you on the cheek, while flexing his muscles on your soft skin.

He is not jealous, he trusts you and knows that you love him, but please don't push his buttons by trying to make him jealous on purpose, he will get extremely upset and go to sleep in the living room or outside the house, or even cry, he is a little sensitive and explosive with very intense feelings.

He likes to be suffocated between your thighs, I don't know, he then loves to feel the pressure of the soft flesh of your thighs pressing his face, he gets extremely hard, whether with him sucking your pussy or just with him between your legs, he smiles and I even beg you to squeeze harder. "-Yes my love, harder, squeeze me with your thighs, I love you so much Fuuuck-" -He spoke in a breathless voice, between his thighs while squeezing you with his hands.

He has a breeding kink, deal with that too, regardless of whether you are a man or a woman, he will get you pregnant.

Syzoth is not a virgin, but he is also not extremely expert, he knows the basics, so please teach him what you like, especially him paying attention to your clitoris, he will understand and massage it with his fingers and tongue, after seeing your reactions of pleasure he will become addicted to working on your clitoris, sucking you for 24 hours, you will have at least three orgasms in the day, with Syzoth between your legs looking at you with his penetrating green irises, eating you from the outside while you trembled under the touch of his tongue, he has a sexual pattern, with his favorite sexual positions being:

The Captain : Seeing you lying down opening your legs for him and exposing your beautiful pussy makes Syzoth want to cum even without penetration, but he can handle it, for you. He gets on his knees on the bed, holding both of your ankles in a V position, to further expose your open and wet pussy to him, he penetrates you slowly, stretching you little by little. "-Fuck sweetheart, I really love his pussy, I could fuck you all night you know? I can move right?" -He spoke between moans, starting to move his hips while watching your reactions of pleasure upon receiving his cock.

The Hot Seat : He loves to sit on the edge of the bed, spread his thighs and hold his hard cock, so you can sit with your pussy on it - he likes to do this position when you are already tired and overstimulated - Syzoth loves to see your ass bouncing him, while his dick enters your pussy, he uses one of his hands to stimulate your clitoris, while he uses his feet on the floor to have more momentum to fuck you, while the other hand cups your breast, squeezing it lightly, placing kisses sloppy behind your back. "-Please keep it up, yes, take it all like the good boy/girl you are, just take my seed inside your uterus, just cum on my cock dear." -He said breathlessly, already close to cumming inside you, well, he always cums inside you.

He also likes being blindfolded during sex, being tied up, having orgasms denied, and loves being called "my love" in addition to liking praise kink.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

#yanderestarangel #afab reader #syzoth #syzoth x reader #syzoth x you #reptile #reptile mortal kombat #reptile mk #reptile x reader #yanderestarangelheadcanons #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat smut #syzoth smut #mortal kombat fandom #mortal kombat fanfiction #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat 1 scenarios #mortal kombat headcanons #tw smut #smut x reader #smut #mortal kombat 1 #mk 1 #mk 2023 #syzoth x y/n #mortal kombat x reader #reptile syzoth

[crystallinestars]

NSFW Alphabet - Aventurine

In honor of the handsome gambler coming home, have some Aventurine smut.

I’m so sappy for this man, ugh.

Aventurine x fem!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

For the first while, the one doing majority of the aftercare would have to be you. Aventurine has had plenty of one-night stands where the other person got what they wanted from him and then left without engaging in any form of aftercare. He’s used to sex being transactional, a tool he used to win people over.

As such, Aventurine feels lost when it comes to providing aftercare for you since it’s not something he has experienced before. At first, it feels strange to him when you offer to get him water, massage his sore muscles, or cuddle with him right after sex. It felt strange, yet he found himself enjoying the moments when you allowed him to rest his head on your chest, feeling your fingers run through his hair as you chatted about various things.

Aventurine slowly warms up to the idea of receiving this type of treatment after sex, and once he becomes accustomed to it, will return the favor. He’s fond of giving you massages and kisses and joining you in the bath for some extra cuddles. He’s also very likely to order you a delicious meal to replenish your energy or spend the rest of the night lazing in bed with you until you both fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I know that this is supposed to be sexy and erotic and whatnot, but if I had to be honest, I would say Aventurine likes his eyes. As much scorn and discrimination as his eyes have brought him, they are his last remaining link to his family and people, and I think he treasures that. Plus, he likes it when you compliment his eyes and say they’re pretty. It makes him feel a bit better about his Avgin heritage.

On you, Aventurine likes your hands. He really likes how you gently caress him, be it in or out of the bedroom. From the way you hold his hand in yours, to the way you cup his cheek or trace your fingers along his body, he loves it all. He feels treasured under your touch, as if he were something precious to you, something irreplaceable. It makes him feel a complicated type of way, but he still seeks out that touch.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Is possessive, so he likes to cum inside and then watch his semen drip out of you. It’s a form of staking his claim on you. However, he’s perfectly happy to cum on your chest or face or wherever else you tell him to, though preferably in or on your body. Aventurine is also content to have your juices smeared all over his face from eating you out. Something about feeling how wet you are turns him on immensely.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Aventurine memorized your undergarment sizes and has spent a pretty penny buying you all kinds of fancy and risqué lingerie from expensive brands. He got you a few matching sets of high-quality lingerie among several costumes, such as a bunny girl suit, a maid dress, and a nurse outfit, to name a few.

He’s planning to give some of them to you as a gift on special occasions in the hopes of getting you to try them on and give him a little show. He loves seeing you dress up for him, and thinks it would be a fun way to spice up your sex life.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s pretty experienced. Aventurine has had a few partners in the past, though they were strictly one-night stands with no feelings attached. It was more of a means to an end for him to relieve stress or win over the person for a deal. He basically used his partner and got used in return, and although some of these encounters were fun, they always left Aventurine unfulfilled.

It wasn’t until he met you and engaged in real lovemaking that he finally understood what was so amazing about sex (more on this in the intimacy section).

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Aventurine is pretty versatile, and his favorite positions change depending on what he’s in the mood for.

If he’s in the mood for something rougher, then he defaults to taking you from behind. He presses his hand on your upper back, pushing you face-down into the bed with your ass up in the air for him. He’s also fond of taking you against the wall with one of your legs hooked around his hip for a deeper penetration.

If he feels like letting you take the lead, he’ll lay back and let you do as you please. You want to pin him down or ride him in cowgirl? Go for it, he’s game. Use him however you want. That said, expect him to be a bit of a brat by challenging your authority with the smuggest of grins on his face. You have to earn his submission.

During moments of sweet and tender lovemaking, Aventurine prefers missionary or lotus. These positions are perfect for exchanging kisses and holding hands, and the eye contact between you feels more intimate which heightens the experience for him. He loves being as close to you as possible, your bodies pressed flush together as your hips move in sync, so expect him to keep his arms wrapped around you for as long as possible.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Aventurine is both serious and humorous. He definitely verbally teases and taunts you because he wants to get a reaction out of you, especially in the early stages of your sex life. It’s also a mask he employs to hide his own nervousness and vulnerability. However, he’s still considerate and respectful of your boundaries and feelings, and he takes the time to discuss these things with you in a serious manner.

While he’s usually very teasing and playful during sex, Aventurine has his serious moments. Those usually come up during tender lovemaking since it’s a more emotionally charged experience that leaves him feeling vulnerable. Genuine words of affection from you go a long way during those moments, and Aventurine might even return them in kind if your relationship has progressed deep enough.

Once he’s past the stage of slowly opening up and has become comfortable being vulnerable with you, Aventurine will act more playful and teasing again. Unlike at the start, this time he doesn’t tease you to mask his true feelings, but as a way to engage in some playful banter and watch your cheeks flush because he finds you super cute when you’re embarrassed.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Just look at Aventurine and tell me he doesn’t groom himself all over. He definitely keeps his pubic hair neatly trimmed so it looks tidy. It’s also the same blond color as the hair on his head.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's had sexual partners before, but there were no feelings involved, so the sex left Aventurine feeling unfulfilled. It felt good, sure, but it still didn't fill the void in his heart, and he was left empty. Sex with you feels completely different, though. You're devoted to his pleasure, you treat him with love and consideration, and he can feel how much you love him through your touch and words.

There is also something so fulfilling and joyous about making you feel good, of knowing that he is the cause for those moans and blissful expressions of yours. Sex with someone he loves is a completely different experience because it's more emotionally charged, and though it makes him vulnerable, he feels more connected to you. He loves that emotional connection even more than the physical one, and it also makes him realize that there's so much more to sex than simply reaching orgasm.

Getting Aventurine to lower his guard and allow himself to be vulnerable during sex is something that will take time, but once he learns to embrace the experience, he’ll be very romantic when making love to you.

As mentioned before, Aventurine likes to keep as much physical contact with you as possible, so he’ll hold you tight against his body while rocking his hips into you. He also enjoys holding hands, especially when close to orgasm.

He’s a very sensual lover, so he runs his hands along your sides or spine, leaves hot kisses on your jawline and neck, and whispers romantic words about how he loves you or how you’re being such a good girl for him. Feel free to do the same to him in return, he loves feeling your loving touch.

Even when he’s being rough, he’s still loving toward you so you’re never left feeling like he’s just using you to get off. He wants you to be comfortable being this intimate and vulnerable with him, plus he loves giving affection.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Aventurine accumulates a lot of stress from work, so I think he masturbates fairly regularly. He usually does it in the comfort of his own home when he has some downtime.

With your consent, he uses some lewd pictures and videos of you to jack off to, or he uses his imagination, recounting his favorite moments from your past sessions. He also pictures you in various risqué outfits or imagines what it would be like to try new kinks with you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He's a switch but tends to take on a more dominant role because he likes having some for of control over a situation, be it in or out of the bedroom. He's quite adept at giving you commands and suggestions, such as watching you masturbate and giving you directions on how to play with yourself. Aventurine is also into mutual masturbation, with either both of you watching each other get off, or using your hands to please the other.

He's into dirty talk, but mostly giving. From you, he likes to receive praise on how good he makes you feel. He also enjoys hearing you beg and describe in as much detail as you can what exactly you want him to do to you. If the task embarrasses you, that's even better because he finds you incredibly cute when you're blushing.

Other things he likes is edging and overstimulation (giving and receiving), mild exhibitionism (see Location below), videotaping/photographing your body or your sex sessions (with your consent, of course), and mild choking (mostly receiving, but can also give).

Aventurine can handle and enjoy rougher treatment from you, but he loves it most when you worship his body. Your loving and gentle touches feel so good, and honestly, he needs the pampering. Bonus points if you compliment his body, be it his looks or physique.

I also feel like he's into footjobs and boobjobs, and getting you to go commando or with a vibrator stuffed in your pussy in public (but only if you're into that).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Generally prefers to have sex somewhere comfortable and private, so the ideal place is usually your home. The kitchen, bathroom, living room, etc are all fair game because Aventurine is not very picky about the location, though he does have a preference for the comfort of a soft bed or couch.

If exhibitionism is something you’re into, Aventurine can also fuck you in riskier places like a public bathroom or near an open window, though he won’t let either of you get caught.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you in his clothes is a surefire way to get Aventurine in the mood. His shirts are too long for you, so he finds it cute how the sleeves cover your hands, and how the neckline dips lower to show off your cleavage. Bonus points if one of your shoulders is exposed. He finds the sight incredibly erotic and endearing.

Aventurine also likes seeing you dress up for him, be it pretty dresses and nicely done hair or perfectly applied makeup. The idea of you dolling yourself up for him just to have your neat appearance ruined by the end of the night arouses him. As does the idea of seeing those painted lips of yours leave lipstick marks on his cock while you suck him off.

Aventurine can get easily turned on if one of your make-outs turns hot and heavy. Feeling the desire and passion behind your kisses can get him aroused pretty quickly, and he’ll try to turn you on in response by deepening the kiss or sucking on a few sensitive spots on your neck he knows make you weak in the knees.

He also loves it when you tease him, especially sexually. If you give him fleeting touches against his clothed dick, press hot kisses along his throat, or tug on his lower lip with your teeth, he'll easily get worked up. Giving him a fleeting taste of pleasure before pulling away, leaving him yearning for more all day will drive him wild and he'll follow after you like a puppy. Expect to be teased into oblivion in return once he gets his hands on you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

As a man with a truckload of trauma, there are certain kinks Aventurine isn’t comfortable participating in, or some that he flat-out rejects.

He’s not into roleplaying scenarios where one of you is subservient to the other, so things like slave play or petplay get a hard no from Aventurine. He also doesn’t like calling you mistress due to the time he was forced to call his enslaver ‘Master’.

While he’s ok with some light bondage like having you pin his wrists down with your hands, he gets uncomfortable if handcuffs or rope is involved because it conjures up bad memories from when he used to be restrained like that as a slave. For the same reason, he’s not into wearing collars or collaring you.

While he can handle some rough play like choking, spanking, and biting, he doesn’t like being heavily hit, because again, it triggers bad memories for him. He doesn’t like being injured or causing you injury. He also doesn’t enjoy demeaning dirty talk that treats you or himself as something lesser or as an object.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

His silver tongue is good for more than just talking. Aventurine enjoys giving oral because watching you writhe and fall apart under his mouth is a huge ego boost. He loves to play with and tease your pussy, memorizing all the motions that get the best reactions out of you or any directions you give him to please you right. He becomes an expert at eating you out.

Aventurine gets a deep satisfaction out of pleasing you, and it definitely gets him hard to hear your moans and watch you squirm because he’s making you feel good.

However, I think he prefers receiving just a teensy bit more. Just a smidge. Having you between his legs, eagerly sucking his cock while maintaining eye contact with him is just heaven. There’s something so nice about being lavished with your love and attention, of seeing and feeling how devoted you are to making him feel good. It makes him feel appreciated and desired, which is a huge turn-on.

That said, Aventurine really likes 69ing because that way you both get to give and receive pleasure at the same time, which is a win-win. Though he does miss seeing your pretty eyes looking up at him while your mouth is stuffed with his cock.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Again, depends on his mood. If he’s feeling frisky, he’ll opt for a quicker and rougher pace, snapping his hips into yours in quick, sharp thrusts while holding onto your hips or arms to hold you in place. However, he’s never rough to the point of it being painful. He doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’s never that rough with you.

Since he’s a sensual person, Aventurine definitely enjoys slower sex. It’s his go-to when making love to you. The thrusts are slow yet deep, his cock dragging against the walls of your pussy, allowing you to feel him properly and fully. With a slower pace, he can kiss you deeper, press his forehead against yours, and exchange words of love more easily. He’s also a fan of slow morning sex.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s fond of quickies. As much as he loves to take the time to work you up and explore your body, sometimes he just needs to quickly release all that pent-up lust to clear his mind. Especially if you’ve been teasing him for a portion of the day or you guys don’t have an opportunity to seclude yourselves for a longer session of sex. He can wait until you get home, but if you’re also willing, he’d much rather have a quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s a gambler and lives for the thrill of taking risks, so I’d say he’s open to experimenting in the bedroom. Aside from the things mentioned in the ‘No’ section, Aventurine is very open to trying new things, even more dangerous ones like choking or exhibitionism. Even if he’s not into something, he’s willing to at least try it once if it’s something you really want to do with him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Has average to a bit above average stamina. Can go for one long round with a lot of foreplay, maybe two if he’s particularly horny. Probably recovers quicker than you, though.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Does own a variety of sex toys he experimented with, but his favorite is a bullet vibrator that he uses while masturbating.

Will absolutely buy toys to use on you, like dildos, vibrators, ballgags, crops, etc… feel free to use the toys on him too, if you want.

He finds toys to be a fun way to occasionally spice up sex to prevent things from getting too stale in the bedroom.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Huge tease. The biggest tease. The kind of tease to overstimulate or edge you until you’re crying and beginning him for relief or to stop—you won’t even know which one. Thankfully he’s rarely that mean, but he likes to edge you a bit before diving into the good stuff.

Aventurine loves to hear you beg, and he will deny you what you want unless you ask for it nicely. You want him inside? In what way? His fingers or his cock? You need to be more specific, darling~

He also verbally teases you, commenting about how eager you are for his dick or how wet you already are despite just starting, etc… And he always says it with that smug, confident smirk of his.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Aventurine tries to be quiet because he’d rather hear you over himself, but he does let out his voice a fair bit. He’s prone to whining when you pleasure him, letting out low groans and soft moans, sometimes even growling if you get him particularly worked up, though that sound is rare.

He also talks a lot. Even if he’s breathless from exertion, he’ll still talk dirty, complimenting you on taking him so well, on how eager you are to please him, or how good you feel inside. If he’s making love to you, you might even catch him whispering a strained “I love you” when he’s close to climax.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Aventurine has nimble hands and knows exactly how to use them to drive you crazy with pleasure. He’s an expert at fingering you, knowing just the right way to curl his fingers inside your pussy to hit your g-spot, what pressure and speed to thrust them in and out of your sopping cunt until your toes curl and you’re clamping down on him as you orgasm.

He also likes to slip a hand between your legs to rub at your clit while fucking into you or to gently tweak and pinch your nipples. The little squeaks and sighs you let out in response are music to his ears.

If at any point you’re frustrated by him constantly edging and teasing you, he’ll quickly shut down your cute protests by deftly rubbing at your clit in exactly the way he knows you love. The way your jaw goes slack as you forget what you wanted to say, reduced to a moaning mess, has him gloating and grinning in triumph. He loves watching you succumb to his touch.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Is 4.5 inches (11.5 cm) long when erect, and 4.1 inches (10.5 cm) in circumference (girth). His dick is slender with a few prominent veins running along the shaft. The tip is a nice pink color.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Average. Generally, Aventurine engages in sex 2-3 times per week, but can easily go for more since he’s easy to arouse. The only issue is that he’s often too busy to find the time. You better believe that when he comes home from his weeks-long business trips, he’s taking you to bed for some passionate sex.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It depends on the situation. If he has work to do after, then he will cuddle for a bit before reluctantly parting from you.

If it’s nighttime or if he has no pressing matters for the day, then Aventurine might let his exhaustion take over and allow himself to fall asleep. It doesn’t happen immediately, though. He prefers to indulge in the afterglow with you, chatting and cuddling for a while, maybe taking a bath together to clean up before bed. He falls asleep a lot easier with you by his side, feeling your fingers tenderly card through his hair or burying his nose into the crown of your head and breathing in your scent.

Unrelated, but he can be both the big and little spoon, though I think he prefers being the little spoon more often. It makes him feel secure when your arms are wrapped around him. He likes falling asleep while facing you, too. Being wrapped up in each other’s arms brings him comfort.

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x fem!reader #aventurine x reader smut

[chrisdr3]

First time ~ LN4

Fluff

Summary: It's Y/n's first Grand Prix as Lando's girlfriend.

Lando x Shy! Sainz! Reader

It's been three months since you got together with Lando. Since Carlos approved it and let his little sister date his best friend. Even though Lando already assured him, Carlos knew that your shyness wouldn't lead to public PDA or other crazy stuff, something he never wanted to witness.

Lando was always at your side, convincing you to go do various new and fun stuff, without making people think you are dating. At least not until his home race. As you passed the three month milestone, making sure the relationship will last, you decided to make it official by going with him to the British Grand Prix.

You went to Britain earlier to have a few days to rest and meet Lando's family. They were very kind and loving people, especially his parents, and because of their request, you and Lando ended up staying with them.

You stayed in his old room, not wanting his mom prepare and clean another guest room. You stayed with them, doing lots of fun things during each day and cuddling in Lando's surprisingly comfy old bed at night.

The days passed quickly and Sunday came in the blink of an eye. You woke up really early to get ready and went with Lando to the circuit. You arrived there, holding Lando's hand, trying not to panic. As you were crossing the hospitalities and other paddock buildings, several fans were approaching Lando asking for photos, autographs and giving him various gifts.

You were approaching the McLaren hospitality when a little girl came to you, gave Lando a bracelet and asked him for a photo. You moved a bit to the side, and the girl dragged you in the camera frame. "Wait, are you Carlos' sister?" "Yeah..." " Why are you with Lando?" "Umm..." You looked at Lando and he nodded approvingly. "I'm his girlfriend." You responded, blushing.

The girl took the photo and left, leaving you alone. You finally went to McLaren's garages, Lando took you to his driver's room, you sat down and put his gifts in a box as he changed into his race suit. Then you went out, in the main garage and Zak took Lando to the side to discuss, leaving you alone to admire the car.

As you were inspecting the car's livery, someone tapped your shoulder, taking you out of your thoughts. "You came with Lando here, so you must be Y/n." He spoke. You looked at him, confused slightly. "H-how do you know my name?" The mechanic smiled. "I'm Will, Lando's race engineer. He talks all the time about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." He raised his hand for a handshake. You didn't shake his hand, embarrassed. "Um... nice to meet you..."

Will noticed your shyness and embarrassment but didn't say anything, as you continued talking about a lot of things, and didn't know when the time for lando to get in his car came. Lando sneaked behind you and hugged you. You turned around and hugged him back, kissing his cheek.

"I see you met Will, princess. I gotta go now, gimme a kiss." You kissed his lips softly. Then he turned to Will. "Take care of her while I race." "Yes sir." Will responded.

Lando got into his car and went to the grid, whilst you were given a headset and will took you in front of some monitors to watch the race. You stayed there, too shy to talk to anyone, and watched the race.

The race ended with Lando getting his first win, Carlos second and Oscar third, thanks to Max's engine having issues, resulting to him DNFing. You followed the rest of the team beneath the podium to cheer for him. He approached you and kissed you hungrily infront of everyone, leaving you all red and flustered.

After he got off the podium, his trophy and a bottle of champagne in his hands, it was time for the team photo. The whole team gathered infront of the garages and got ready for the pic, waiting for Lando. You waited next to the photographer, when a hand dragged you in the camera frame, the camera clicking to take the photo.

A while later, as you were in Lando's driver's room, scrolling through Instagram, you swore you saw the photo of lando dragging you to the camera frame. This was gonna go viral.

Taglist: @pinkswaet @thef1diary @dilemmaontwolegs @changetyre

#f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #formula one #lando norris x reader #lando x y/n #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris fanfic

[rachalixie]

my love, mine all mine

a/n: happy valentine's my angel @astraystayyh and my star @forlix <333 (this is not my best work but be kind to me i wrote it in a rush because i wanted it to be READY FOR YOU TODAY)

hyunjin setting up the perfect valentine's day for you

warnings: fem!reader, 2.3k

genre: fluff, est. relationship

you wake up on valentine’s day the same as you do any other day - a little grumpy, a lot tired, and above all wanting to close your eyes for just a few more minutes. 

it takes you longer to admit to drag yourself into the shower and get dressed, but you give yourself credit for doing it before noon; you weren’t a morning person by nature. 

you didn’t feel any particular way about valentine’s day - you’ve never had a valentine, never been in a serious enough relationship to where you felt it needed to be celebrated. you had whispered this to hyunjin a few days ago, cuddled into his chest at night, but beyond that you hadn’t really thought about it much. 

it seems that hyunjin had, though, seeing as your living room floor was covered in red rose petals. a single, small. pink gift bag sat on the coffee table and you couldn’t help the jaw-aching smile that you were wearing. there was no sign that he was still there, his shoes were absent at the door and the absent-minded humming he habited wasn’t reaching your ears. he must have used the spare key to come in and set this up before work, and the idea of him coming over to do this and letting you sleep in on your day off was so sweet you thought you might get a toothache from it. 

you walk to the center of the room to open the gift, on your tiptoes to avoid stepping on the sweet smelling petals scattered on the carpet. your mouth drops into an O shape when a single piece of paper is revealed at the bottom of the bag. 

put these coordinates into your maps, it reads, and you frown in confusion. you do it, and an address pops up that you’ve never seen before. you assume he wants you to go there, but why? he was at work, wasn’t he?

your short walk there leads you to a coffee shop just a few blocks away from your apartment, a small family-owned one that you had been meaning to try for weeks. it’s cozy, with paper hearts and flowers decorating the place and chalkboard menus advertising sweet sounding valentine’s lattes. 

“this is for you,” the server at the counter tells you as you approach to order, holding out a paper cup and a neatly folded paper bag. you take the items from her, inspecting them carefully. the cup has earl gray tea latte scrawled onto its side, and the bag contains a mouth-watering pastry dotted with bits of almond and chocolate. what is this?

“how much do i owe…?” you look back up at the server as she turns to return to stocking the pastry case, and her ponytail swishes as she faces you. 

“it’s taken care of,” she winks at you, smiling. “someone really loves you, huh?”

“yeah,” your heart swells as you take a seat in the corner of the shop to enjoy your breakfast. “he does.”

you sip on your tea slowly, people watching as the thought of hyunjin rushing here after stopping at your place to give them your order warming you from the inside out. an elderly couple comes in next, hand in hand as they place an order. a young man stops by, holding a bouquet of flowers and blushing as he asks for two strawberry-chocolate mochas. 

several people later, you stand up to recycle the cup and empty paper bag, walking out the door as you take your phone out to send hyunjin an aggressive thank-you text.

“wait!” the server calls after you, and you stop in your steps as she jogs to catch up with you. “i forgot to give you this.”

she stretches her hand out towards you, a small gift bag identical to the one you’d found in your apartment dangling off of her fingers. 

“oh, thank you,” you say, blinking at the bag as she disappears almost as quickly as she came. 

get in the car, it reads. you glance up just as a sleek black sedan pulls up next to you, the tinted passenger side window rolling down to reveal seungmin. 

“what is this?” you pop your head into the window, sending a glare at him as if that would make him talk. if there is anyone who will keep a secret to the death, it’s kim seungmin. 

“the note says to get in the car,” he rolls his eyes, unlocking the door so you could slide in next to him. “we don’t want to be late.”

“late to what?” you ask, but he ignores you in favor of turning the music up. it’s playing a song from your favorite artist, one that you know seungmin doesn’t listen to. 

he rolls the car to a stop on a familiar street downtown and he finally smiles at you as he unlocks the doors again. 

“we’re here,” he says, then exits the car to hop around to your side to open the door for you. “enjoy the rest of your day, madam.”

“what a gentleman,” you tease him, taking his hand as he helps you out of the car. 

“for the woman of honor? it’s my pleasure,” before you could ask him what he meant by honor, he’s hopping back into his car and driving off. 

this is weird. right?

he had dropped you off right in front of your regular nail salon. as you’re waiting by the door, conflicted over whether you should go in or not, one of the technicians opens the door, waving at you to come in. 

“hi,” you greet her, “i was, well. driven here? but i don’t have an appointment.”

“of course you have an appointment,” she grins, white teeth flashing at you. “for right now. come right this way!”

she leads you to a chair, and your favorite tech exits out the staff room in the back and sits across the table from you. 

“hi beautiful,” she says, and the familiarity of her tampers down the overwhelming feeling that had been creeping up on you. “full set, right? what color?”

“oh, i wasn’t really prepared…” you think of your dwindling bank account and grimace. “maybe just polish? dark red, though.”

“oh don’t worry,” she winks at you before getting her materials set up at the station. “it’s been paid in advance.”

as she gets to work on your nails, you can’t help the all-consuming rush of affection that surges through you. when had hyunjin had time to plan all of this? 

you thank everyone profusely once she’s done, marveling at your new set of nails. you’re not as surprised this time when the girl who had waved you in earlier hands you a small, now familiar gift bag. 

the next stop leads you to a hair salon, one that you’ve never been to if only because it was so expensive. designer products lined the walls for purchase, plush leather seats were placed in front of lit up floor to ceiling mirrors - it was like a palace. 

you’re the only customer there, which surprised you. it was valentine’s day, didn’t others want to get their hair done too? 

you couldn’t complain though, especially when the hair stylist asks you what you wanted done and listened to you with rapt attention. the lack of anyone else there was a welcome surprise. 

the stylist washes your hair, the water she uses somehow the perfect temperature for you. her fingers move in expert motions, relaxing you and making you melt into the chair. 

she walks you over to her station and gets started on blow-drying your wet hair, and man approaches with a basket full of makeup. he wordlessly brushes it on, making gentle swiping motions across your eyelids and cheeks that almost feel like hyunjin’s eyelashes fluttering against your skin. 

they work in amazing synchronization, so in tune with one another that you’re a little overwhelmed by the time they finish. 

“you look divine,” the man compliments, high-fiving the hair stylist over your head. 

“like a princess,” the woman nods, turning you towards the mirror and - oh. you do look amazing, soft waves framing your face and neutral tones accenting your eyes. 

“thank you so much,” you gush, marveling at how the blush and highlight adorning your cheeks turn brighter when you smile. 

“it’s our pleasure,” the makeup artist replies, patting your shoulder. “you were wonderful to work on. come back anytime.”

“let me guess,” you can’t help the smile from leaving your face. “it’s taken care of?”

the man nods as the hair stylist hands you the gift bag you were already expecting. 

this time it tells you to cross the street, and a quick glance shows a small row of shops. there’s a tiny number scribbled on the corner of the slip of paper, and it matches up with the number on top of one of the shops. it was a small boutique, less flashy than any of the places you've been directed to all day. 

this stop is more of a quick affair, a young girl greeting you like she knew you and ushering you into a changing room where a shoe box is waiting on a stool and a garment bag hangs on a hook. you unzip it to reveal a beautiful red dress, flowy fabric falling like waterfalls off of the hanger. 

you put it on and it fits you like a well-worn ring, complimenting your figure like it was tailored specifically for you. the heels are a perfect fit too, and you almost feel like cinderella waiting to meet your prince. the girl is waiting outside when you step out, and you feel the urge to hide from her when she fixes you with a scrutinizing look.

“how do i look?” you ask her, and her face breaks out into a beam towards you. 

“you look phenomenal,” she gushes, twirling you around so she could see every angle. “he chose so well, the dress compliments you perfectly.”

“my clothes?” you turn back to get them, but she stops you with a hand on your elbow. 

“don’t worry about them, they’ll get back to you,” she walks you towards the door. “he’s right next door - don’t be late!”

you take a deep breath as you exit the shop, your fingers wringing together with unexpected nerves. why are you nervous? hyunjin had created the perfect day for you - finally seeing him would be the icing on the perfect cake. you push through the nerves as you push open the door, and you cant help but gasp in wonder when you take in the interior. 

it looks like an abandoned storefront, remodeled to make a whimsical scene. there’s strings of fairy lights lining the brick walls, creeping around green vines that make the space look like something out of a storybook. rose petals, the same ones from this morning, line a trail towards a small table in the center of the room. candles shone on top of it, two glasses of freshly poured wine glinting in the firelight, and next to the table is a man who’s been waiting eagerly. 

it’s hyunjin, standing tall with a deliciously fitted suit framing his body and a single rose held in his hand. you walk towards him, your heels clicking on the floor as you try not to trip in your rush to fall into his arms. 

“you did all this? the whole thing?” you ask, willing the tears to stay in your lids as to not mess up your freshly done makeup. out of all the things you’ve done today, getting to stand in the circle of his arms is by far the best part. 

“of course i did,” he rubs a hand up and down your spine, letting the tips of his fingers trace across the zipper there. “i wanted to make this day perfect.”

“i loved it,” you pull away to look him in the eyes. “i love you. i would have loved it if you showed in sweatpants up with takeout too.”

“i know,” he looks at you with an overwhelming amount of fondness brimming in his eyes. “but you’re special. i wanted to do something that showed you how special you are.”

“you’re a real life prince, did you know that?” you lay a light smack on his chest, so overfilled with happiness that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“well, if i’m a prince,” he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek, then to your forehead. “then you’re my princess.”

he pulls something out of his pocket and fastens it behind your neck, and you look down as a light weight settles between your collarbones. it’s a necklace, a dainty H hanging off of a chain, a single stone nestled in the middle of the pendant. 

“this is too much,” you pout, much too pleased to actually throw a fuss. you know he loves you, and you know how he loves.

“nothing is too much when it comes to you,” his voice is fragile and honest, and you can’t help but kiss him, giggling when you pull away and he chases after you.

he holds out the chair closest to you and pushes it in for you, dashing to the other side to sit down himself. he drops his hand to the table, upturned with his fingers splayed, and you take the message to intertwine your fingers with his as you take a sip of the sweetest wine that has ever touched your lips. 

he doesn’t let go of your hand for the entire night. 

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids #skz fluff #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader

[finelinevogue]

a winter solstice like no other

summary - exchanging on winter solstice gifts leads to new revelations

pairing - azriel x reader

word count - ~2k

It was the night before Winter Solstice.

The house was full of laughter and love as fae’s alike drank mulled wine and snacked on Christmas puddings.

There was an air of happiness that hadn’t been around for the longest time. It was peaceful and comforting. Family was important sound this time of year and you were glad you had a good one to spend it with.

You were quite happily sitting in the corner sofa, tucked under a blanket you had knitted, drinking hot cocoa whilst the others danced near the log burning fire.

“Mind if I sit here?”

You turned to see Azriel ask you for a seat next to you.

“Of course. You don’t have to ask, Az.” You smiled at him, pulling the blanket back so he could sit down.

His large frame took up most of the rest of the sofa, so you threw the blanket over the top of you to keep you nice and warm.

“How are you enjoying this year’s Winter Solstice?” He asked you.

“Better than last year.”

Last year had been a truly sad one for you; spending it alone in a home that wasn’t even yours anymore. The war had taken everything from you, but in return it gave you this wonderful family and more than several places to call home.

It was Azriel who had found you cold and alone, and it was Azriel who took you to his family when you need people the most.

Everyone had warmly greeted you.

You had never expected to find another family.

And you certainly had never thought you’d find your mate because of it.

But here Azriel was. Your mate.

Your mate who didn’t know he was yours.

Every moment you spent close to him, you wondered how he couldn’t possibly feel the magic that you felt for him. His eyes didn’t light the same for you as yours did for him, which is the only way you knew he didn’t know yet.

You didn’t want to force him into something that he wasn’t ready for, though. Especially when he clearly had some feelings for Elain.

The three brothers and three sisters seemed destined to be, and yet you had mated to Azriel. There was almost an element of being terrified that you’d ruined a natural order if you accepted the bond between you and Azriel when Elain was right there.

“Present time!” Cassian cheered, breaking you from your thoughts.

Cassian jumped over the back of the sofa to land next to his mate; Nesta.

“You imbecile.” Nesta punched him when he knocked the wine in her hands onto her leggings.

“I love you too.” Cassian kissed her head in return, making everyone chuckle.

Everyone had their presents under the tree already, but you had left yours upstairs just because you didn’t want to intrude on their space.

You pulled the blanket off you and stood up, Azriel’s hand catching you and making you jolt with electricity.

“You okay?” He asked, looking concerned.

“Yes.” You chuckled at his worry, “Just going to get some things. Save me a seat.”

“I will.” He let go of your hand and you went off.

Your room was tucked in a small corner of the house, as you didn’t want to take up too much room. A lot of the rooms had already been taken so there wasn’t much choice, but your room was beautiful nonetheless.

It overlooked the mountains of Velaris and into the valley below. If you ever needed a reminder of how lucky you were, all you had to do was look out your window.

You picked up your presents in your room, collecting them in your arms. You tried to juggle them as you went to open the door, only for them to spill on to the floor and go everywhere.

“Oh, Mother above.” You mumbled, picking them all up again.

Once you had made your way downstairs, you re-entered the living room only to find your seat next to Azriel taken.

Elain had joined him.

Azriel didn’t look overly happy that she was there and he kept playing with a loose thread on the blanket you’d made as a distraction.

No matter, you smiled as you entered and handed out gifts to everyone.

Everyone thanked you as you passed out their respective gifts.

“You didn’t have to do this, Y/N.” Rhys spoke. “I haven’t been able to offer you the full wage you deserve this year.”

“And you’ve apologised for that countless times, Rhys. Yet, you forget you don’t charge me rent here so I don’t mind spending my wages on you and your family.” You handed him his gift.

“We’re your family too, remember.” Feyre smiled and thanked you as you gave her hers.

“I know. I wake up grateful every day.” You reshuffled the gifts to get a second for Feyre, “And an extra something for your birthday.”

“You are bad, Y/N… I told you not to.” Feyre tutted you.

“You deserve it.”

“Y/Ns right, darling.” Rhys kissed Feyre’s forehead.

You wandered back to Azriel and Elain, only holding one more gift.

“Oh.. Mother…” You started to swear.

“What is it?” Azriel asked.

“I must’ve dropped your gift on the way downstairs Az. I’m sorry, I’ll just…”

“Hey, it’s fine. You can pass it me later.”

“You sure?” You asked, feeling bad.

“Mhm.” He warmly smiled and leant back into the sofa.

You handed Elain her gift, before rounding the room to sit on the window seat just to the side of the room. You would’ve sat on a sofa, but there was no room left and you were the last to join the inner circle so it only made sense.

“Are we ready?” Cassian asked, looking around the room. “Then let’s go!”

Everyone began unwrapping, oohing and awwing over their gifts.

“Y/N..!”” Rhys laughed.

You smiled brightly as you noticed Rhys had opened his gift. You knew that he had been complaining that his feet had been getting so cold recently, so you had decided to knit him some slipper socks. They were in a gorgeous black with silver blobs that were meant to look like stars.

“Are they okay?” You asked shyly.

This was your first year of gift giving and you didn’t want to do it wrong.

“Perfect! Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Just a tiny thank you for helping me this past year.”

“You know we don’t need your thanks, Y/N, but you’re welcome anyways.”

As they continued opening presents and you opened yours, everyone was grateful and happy. Cassian was miffed that he got gag-gifts, but then again he hadn’t bought anything serious for anyone else.

You got to your gift from Azriel and stopped before you could tear, setting it to the side.

You looked up to Azriel and he was frowning at you, possibly thinking you didn’t care to open his gift. You gave him your kind eyes before he could think further.

“I’ll wait for you.” You mouthed across the room.

He smiled and nodded in agreement.

His gaze was broken from you as Elain nudged him to open her gift for him.

He slowly unwrapped the gift and everyone stopped to see what had made him gasp.

He slowly pulled out a Sapphire gem. A real and rare one. It was a gem that was meant to fit perfectly into his Truthteller blade.

“W-wow.” He raised his eyebrows in shock.

“I saw it the other day and just knew it was for you!” Elain giggled.

“This is far too much.” He shook his head.

“Oh please… It’s barely anything.”

You gulped at the site. If Elain thought that was nothing then your gift for him was truly worthless.

A rare gem? There was no competition, but if there were then Elaine would have won before you’d even started.

You wished more than anything that you could afford a lovely present like that for Az, but your money was often spent elsewhere through charity or simple living bills.

Everyone looked upon the two of them carefully.

Feyre knew that Azriel was your mate because you were making yourself miserable by keeping it to yourself, which obviously meant that Rhys had to know. So they didn’t look too comfortable with the gift exchange.

Rhys was trying to contact you through his mind tricks, but you didn’t let him. Not because you didn’t care, but because you knew you’d be upset the moment he tried to console you.

Whilst Elain and Az continued to have their moment, your own heart breaking a little, you quietly made your way out of the room.

You ran upstairs as quick as you could and shut your bedroom door behind you.

Opening the window, you stuck your head outside and let out a big breath - letting everything go. You felt like you could cry, but nothing good would come of that so you tried to console yourself the best you could with the fresh air and view of Velaris below.

“You o–”

“Mother of…” You turned around so quickly that you hit the side of your head on the glass window.

“Oh Gods, Y/N!” Az exclaimed as he shut the door behind him and ran over to you.

His hands took ahold of your face carefully, tilting your head to the side where you’d hit it. Instead of a pink mark, he noticed the tears instead.

“Hey, what’s with the tears?” He softly asked, wiping a thumb over your soft cheek.

“Sorry!” You laughed, “It’s been a bit much today already.”

“Tell me about it.” He answered sarcastically, before continuing. “I mean… a sapphire?” He whispered the last bit.

“Oh.. Yes. That - uhm - that was very thoughtful of Elain.” You took a step back from Azriel, wiping under your eyes.

You leant back against the windowsill and looked towards Azriel. He was carefully watching you like he didn’t quite understand something about you.

“What?” You asked.

“I have something for you.” He said, sitting back on your bed. He patted the spot next to you and you - not too eagerly - went and sat next to him.

He handed over a small blue wrapped box, as delicately wrapped as a professional would have done.

“It better not be a sapphire.” You joked.

“Oh better give it back then.” He tried to reach back for it, but you laughed and pulled it away. Turning back, you didn’t expect him to still be so close.

The bond inside of you was fluttering like a billion butterflies wings. You cleared your throat and looked down at the gift again, making Azriel lean back a bit.

You carefully opened it and found the box beneath the paper. It had a little infinity sign engraved in silver on the top of it.

You furrowed your eyebrows and swallowed back the growing lump at the back of your throat.

“Az…”

He stayed quiet.

“T.. This is from the ‘Bonded Mates’ gift shop.”

“I know.”

You gulped and turned towards him, tears in your eyes as the warmth in your chest started growing and growing. Your heart felt like it was growing three sizes and your chest was being directly pulled towards his.

“You… You know.” You let out a soft sob.

Azriel’s tears built up in his own eyes, “I do.” He nodded, confirming what you thought.

“Az.. For how long?”

“Since the day I met you.”

You let out another sob, feeling slightly more than overwhelmed right now. You nodded your head continued to look into his eyes, seeing your other half look back at you.

“You never said. I thought you liked Elain.”

“I must admit, even I thought I liked Elain at the very beginning, but I slowly realised I was only trying to like her for the sake of the ‘three brother’s and three sisters’ hypothesis. In reality, all I felt was a tug towards you and every day since I have tried my best to not overwhelm you because all I want to do is bond with you.”

“You knew! All this time.” You cupped his cheek and he leant into it willingly.

“Yeah.”

You leaned closer to him and his face, “So did I.” Azriel smiled so widely at that, “And I accept you. For infinity.”

“And I accept you, for anything and beyond infinity.”

His lips touched yours before you could even take a breath. You chest tugged towards his and your heart felt like it was overloaded with love and power. You felt yourself literally tether to Azriel and it was quite possibly the best feeling in the world.

Before you could both get carried away you pulled back.

“Wait, wait, wait…” You gasped.

“What?” Azriel looked concerned.

“Your gift!” You stood up, wiping under your eyes yet again.

“Oh screw the gifts.” He tugged on your hand so you fell back on the bed, back laying flat.

Azriel creeped over you and held his weight up above you.

“Az!” You laughed. “Get off, you big brute!”

You tried to push him off but he was as steady as a mountain. He couldn’t be moved and you accepted your defeat with a huff and a smile, allowing him to watch you.

He was quiet for a moment, no telling why he pulled you back. It seemed like he was simple mesmerised with every detail of you.

“What?” You asked.

“I’m just grateful that it was you.”

You knew the ‘it’ in question was the bond and you had to gulp back another set of fresh tears.

Instead, you leaned up and kissed him again. Softly pressing your lips into his and kissing him like he deserved to be kissed. He’d been waiting, what felt like an eternity, so might as well show him why he was made to wait all this time.

You moved back down but Azriel followed you. His arms cupped themselves over your head and encased you beneath his wholly.

He didn’t let his lips free from yours, not even for one breath. You both felt like you were each other’s air. Azriel kissed and kissed you like he would never get to kiss you like this again, even though it was your first time.

“Az..” You tried to pull away again.

“Try and stop me from kissing you again and see what happens.” He warned you, and you responded by tugging his hair at the back of his neck. He moved back at the flinch of pain.

“Listen to me.” You smiled.

“No.”

And he leant back down to start kissing you again, moving his lips in such a way that you were starting to forget everything other than him.

You sneakily moved your hand up beneath his caged arms and attempted to capture his cheeks to stop him, but his shadows already knew your plans and caught your arm along the way. The shadows pinned your arm up behind your head and you huffed into your kiss.

“I don’t know whether to be offended that you keep wanting to get away from me, or not.” Az stopped kissing you to speak.

“You should. I want my gift.” You pouted.

“Oh. Do you now? Well I want to kiss my mate to make up for all our lost years, so I guess I’ll just do that instead.” He was about to lean back down to you but his shadows held him back instead. “What?”

“Seems they can listen to my thoughts now. Now stand down, Sir.”

He didn’t get much of a choice as his shadows pulled you off him and allowed you to slip away.

“You little demons.” Az groaned but allowed them to anyways, because it was worth seeing the smile as your opened your gift.

It was the daintiest bracelet you’d ever seen with a tiny little dagger charm on it. You absolutely loved it and were more happy to receive this than a thousand chariots of gold.

“Thank you. Put it on for me, please.”

You held out the bracelet and your wrist to Azriel and he carefully took both and put it on. It looked perfect against your skin and Azriel couldn’t help but smile that a little part of him was worn by you.

“Beautiful.” He said, kissing the back of your hand.

“It is. You chose well.”

“I honestly didn’t think this would have gone as well at it has. I was starting to think you’d never feel the bond.”

“The feelings mutual, darling.” You chuckled. “Now!”

You started rummaging around the room to find Az’s gift. You looked everywhere until you found it rolled away, tucked in a corner.

You grabbed it and walked over to Azriel. You stood in front of him as you handed it over.

“Happy Solstice.” You smiled.

“Thank you.” He said before opening it gently, savouring the time and effort you put into the wrapping.

As he opened it, you remembered how insignificant it was compared to Elain’s gift.

“Now, I know it’s nothing too extraordinary but I know how sensitive your hands get in the cold so I…”

“You knitted me fingerless gloves?” Az held up the deep blue coloured gloved, the tips of the fingers missing. There was a mitten like part to it that could fold over the fingers should he wish to keep them warm.

“I know it’s not a sapphire, but…”

“It’s not.” He said and you nodded, “It’s better.”

The smile on your face was unmistakable and he wanted to see you smile like that every damn day for the rest of your existence.

“Okay.” You said, trying to believe him.

“No, come here.” He pulled on the back of your waist until you toppled into him and straddled him on his lap. “It’s better. Best gift ever and not just because it came from you. It was so thoughtful. Thank you.”

You leant forwards to kiss his inviting lips.

And not for the last time, that was now for certain.

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel blurbs #azriel acotar blurbs #azriel acotar fic #azriel fic rec #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses

[nexusnyx]

moment's silence

#NightSkyChallenge: Prompt 7 — The night I lost a bet. [“You know what this means, don’t you?”] [6.6k]

— Summary: Joel has no idea why Bill gifts him with the book. Had he rambled about you that much? It seemed impossible—to be fair, but surely there were other things besides your name on his tongue. Besides how much you love your books and care for them. Besides how much he's learned since he met you because of them.

Either way, the book means you lost the bet. Joel cares for very little since Outbreak day, but this—oh, this he took it to heart. You'd lost, and he intended on collecting his prize.

— A/n: Canon-divergence; Reader and Tess met Joel at the same time, and all three became a tight-knit unit. | 🏷️ Tags & warnings⚠️: explicit mature content, minors DNI; age gap, mentions of canon-typical violence, confessions, touch starved, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), slow & deep sex, but also rough sex?, dirty talk, little spoon Joel.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | read on ao3

All he can think about when he sees the bookshelf is your words, even if they were spoken on a whim years ago.

"There's no fucking way you can find a classic in good conditions anymore—not even Joel 'I can find anything' Miller is immune to decay and years of nature taking over. They're all gone, Joel. I just have to accept it. I bet there's not a single one that hasn't been wrecked by either people's ignorance or fucking mold eating every single page."

He remembered those words as clear as the day's first rays of light.

Not because of them, precisely. Because of what came after. He had blurted, "Bet what?" out of sheer instinct, only for you to reply with:

"Anything."

Maybe you were being metaphorical at the time, but Joel took it seriously. He outreached his hand for you to shake. "I'll take that bet."

If he never found a book, nothing would change.

If he won, on the other hand. Well—there's something Joel's been wanting from you for a long, long time.

That's why when he enters Bill's house for the first time, Joel stops dead in his tracks on the corridor leading to the kitchen.

You'd been to the house before with him and Tess.

Just like him, you had stood outside the whole time while Tess and Frank went about their rambles and deals. You, Joel, and Bill were all cut out from the same cloth—death stares etched onto your faces as if you were marble, grumbled conversation that came up here and there between long sips of wine.

Neither you nor Joel had been inside yet.

It's the third time he visits, first one without you, and he sees it—

Bookshelf.

One of Bill's doors is open on the way to the kitchen revealing what used to be an office but now looks more like a symbiosis of an atelier and library. It's — nice, Joel guesses.

It's not his thing.

Books — those are your thing.

Joel has no idea what connects you to the pages, but he knows it runs deeper than just academic pleasure, or snobbiness (an assumption made by many who met you).

It's as if whatever elements existed within paper, inked with words that strung together beautiful stories — it moved you.

Joel was entranced by the way you were able to quote several passages.

Few things remained that were worthy of admiration, or interest. He easily placed your small and precious book collection high above on his list.

That, and your ability to bring those stories to life somehow.

"Are you a reader?" Bill's voice is expected — Joel heard his steps approaching and stopping behind him when he did.

He scanned all the shelves, so he looks back to answer Bill. "Not really. Tess never mentioned who's the little Librarian between us? Our reader's absent today."

"If my, uh... —

If mine... if they brought strangers into our situation... I wouldn't be happy either."

"Oh. Well. They seem to listen to you as well as mine listens to me."

"I hope she feels better soon." Bill says the words and they sound so real. Spoken freely, not through gritted teeth or accompanied by his usual stiff shoulders.

Joel's hands rested on his hips. "Yeah." He hated this part — with Bill and Frank it was harder to not talk about things. He was pretty sure Bill didn't even like him, just like Joel didn't like him that much, but they saw each other. Understood one another. "Yeah, me too."

"The medicine you gave — it helped." That came out through gritted teeth. Joel held back from smiling at the unspoken admission—you sold me real shit. It's saving my partner. Thanks. "Frank's talking about — lavender. Herb garden and all. God."

Joel snickers and they exchange a look. "Good luck with that."

"I'll definitely need it." Bill's hands pat his sides, and Joel recognizes his motion before bolting out of a conversation. "Feel free to look at them," he waves a hand in direction of the shelf before leaving Joel there alone.

He does look.

One by one, Joel checks the titles because if you were here, that's what you'd do, and "when in doubt, always do what you must".

He hated that your words stuck to his brain so easily.

They were sticky like honey, which also resembled your voice. Or maybe that was only the way he heard it — Joel enjoyed listening to you talk.

"When in doubt, always do what you must" came after he left behind some supplies in order to help during a run, and you'd gotten mad at him for the first time.

It was then that Joel noticed how fucking tough you were.

Complete the mission. Help when you can. Do what you must.

If he was here already, he might as well read all the titles. Who knew how long he'd last? If he'd be here again, or if you would?

When his eyes land on Frankenstein, Joel knows he hit the jackpot.

That's when the memory of your bet sparks behind his eyelids, and he's cursed with the way you smiled that day.

Anything.

There was something Joel wanted, badly.

He cut out his own permission to want anything that strayed from finding Tommy again, getting clues to somehow discover a way to find his brother, get him back, but you planted the seed in his subconscious by simply existing — he was powerless to stop it.

One second, you and Tess walked into his life.

The next, he had on one side a best friend who cursed as much as him and on the other a menace who popped into his subconscious state, giving him dreams for the first time in years.

You two brought back a sense of humanity into his day-to-day life.

In return, Joel tried his best to do good for both of you.

Keep you safe however he could. Slip extra ration cards into your stack so you could more.

Small things like that — things that he later realized were only the seeds for the want that blossomed.

Joel wanted you out of the smuggling business.

He wanted you to be safe.

It was fucking ridiculous.

Your hand never missed the trigger timing — if there was anyone around the neighborhoods he lived more skilled in knives than you, he'd eat his own hand, and you were clever.

Quick, sharp, rational.

Despite all of that, he hated the sight of your back whenever a deal had them going outside.

Every time he saw a pistol or any other weapon in your hands, he wanted to throw it away as hard as he could.

And here he was, facing Frankenstein.

Anything.

Fuck. Joel hated how he hesitated.

If it belonged to anyone else, his hands would've already made the book meet the secret parts of his backpack, but he couldn't do this to contacts so good like Frank and Bill.

He couldn't fuck up this one.

Shit.

(Maybe he did like the two men, after all. Just a little.)

Joel has no idea why Bill gifts him the book.

One minute they're sitting alone drinking scotch while Tess and Frank finish up the trade and the next, they're talking about old hobbies they regretted not paying more attention to. Conversing like two normal people. Like Tess and Frank do, only without all the niceness and excitement.

At one point, Bill asks, "Did you see anything you liked?"

It takes a second for Joel to realize he's talking about the room and the shelf. Joel shakes his head. "Wasn't a big fan of readin'." A lie, he thinks. "Even that's a stretch. I — probably should've done it more now that I think about it."

Bill's answer is a hum. "Yeah. Lots of things I wish I should've done. Properly. Piano's one of them."

Joel eyes the item in the room. He recalls you and Tess talking about how Frank was lucky to know an instrument. "Frank's good at it, though?"

"He was rustier when he arrived, but yeah — he's doing good now."

Joel admires that. Some things are probably talent, he figures. "Practice's everything. 's why I feel bad for people whose thing was, like, artsy. Y'know?" He lists you and Frank as examples. "They ain't got means to do what they really love now."

That's when Bill shares that Frank paints. Piano and drawn, painted art — that was nice. Frank probably missed a lot of things.

If what you said was true and artists withered without their art like some plants did without sun or water, then he must be sad nowadays.

The new information sparks up a memory. The abandoned art supply on Canbose with 5th Street — was it possible there were some there?

Joel kept the doubts to himself so as to not spark any hopes of things he'd fail to deliver, but the real surprise is that he and Bill have their first conversation there.

It's a nice one.

Joel loathes that his brain comes up with the knowing looks both you and Tess would give him and Bill if either of you saw the way the two men can converse so easily once the guns are gone.

Bill's — he's okay.

Rough around the edges, sure, but in polished, sturdy ways.

He's also a little box of Pandora.

The last thing Joel could expect was being called aside by Bill before he leaves with Tess, only to find him hiding behind the door waiting for him with a furtive air in his stance, as if there could be any secrets that they'd keep from theirs.

Bill extends the copy of Frankenstein without meeting Joel's eyes. "Here." He all but shoves it into Joel's hands, and then nods. "It's the one you kept touching."

There's no reason to play bargain or pretend this is a gift he's too humble to accept.

He does as he's told, thanks Bill with a long nod, and walks out.

It does beat at his mind on the walk back to the QZ, though—had he rambled about you that much?

It seemed impossible—to be fair, he always managed to keep the conversation away from himself, but surely there were other things besides your name on his tongue. Besides how much you love your books and care for them. Besides how much he's learned since he met you because of them.

Either way, the book means you lost the bet.

Joel cares for very little since Outbreak day, but this—oh, this he took it to heart. You'd lost, and he intended on collecting his prize.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTWO DAYS LATER

The smell of your apartment envelops him every time.

Everything's open.

You keep plants hung in several places on your wall, and they're all so tall and green. Big, imponent, and your habit of walking through the place and touching one of them, sometimes going as far as plucking a leaf or petal out of them—the air suddenly turned into myrrh, lavender, eucalyptus.

Joel wished he smelled nothing other than here.

"Heard you were feelin' better," Joel says as soon as he has eyes on you.

There's more color on your cheeks. When you smile, Joel sees it reach your eyes even if it remains small in your lips. "Still feel like shit, though."

Tongue sharp as ever, then.

He chuckles and walks in as you move aside in invitation, gaze checking through the apartment as he takes off his shoes.

Joel always pays attention to everything that surrounds you.

While you ask about the trades you missed, he takes note of the spotless state of everything around him. Stainless windows, shiny floor, a sharp citrus scent lingering even around you.

Stress cleaning — check.

"Did you finish the food I gave ya?"

"Of course," you answer. Joel's happy to hear that — you ate very little on the first day you got sick, and he gave you some of his food to make sure you ate.

The two of you take a sit in the kitchen, and as you talk about work, he analyzes you better.

You had your most comfortable clothes on. They came from a box he found not long ago that was your size exactly; the shirt has wet stains on your chest, and your wet hair tells him you felt good enough today for the first time in a while.

Good enough to gather the patience to wash your hair in the sink.

"Don't mind Inoctus, you know he says that shit about the Fireflies all the time. I ain't gonna argue with him again," Joel waves a hand, and then gets to the part he wanted to talk about. "Never mind him, though — did Tess tell you about what Bill and Frank found for us? What Frank fixed?"

"No, not yet."

Excellent. "We've got some good news. Oh — and before I forget. D'you think that art supply on Canbose still has some supplies left?"

"The one that intersects with the 5th?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. I don't see why it wouldn't have," you shrug your shoulders. "It's close enough to the QZ for it not be completely raided and I don't see who would prioritize stealing art supplies in the middle of everything." It made sense to Joel, and he felt a rare sense of giddiness tingling. "Why?"

He leans back on the chair. "Frank's a painter."

"No way."

Joel grins — you understood him. "Yes, way."

"Fucking hell. Is there anything he doesn't do?"

He laughs. "I know. I felt the same way."

"He plays the piano, he should be obliged by law to stick to that cool thing."

Joel likes it when you're feeling a little petty — the scrunch on your nose is adorable. He wants to pinch it between his fingers, even if he never did. "Anyway..." He shares the other updates about the trip to their house without you, then talks about the people who contacted him — the ones that gave him any trouble are your expertise, and Joel loves the set on your brows when you're listening.

He has no idea how someone who looks so precious can have such a wicked mind.

"She looks so — I don't know. Not this ingenious. Mean. How the fuck does someone who's always hummin' songs under her breath can intimate grown-ass man?"

"You're the only fucker who thinks she looks like an angel, Joel."

"Nah, we both know that's a lie."

"No, you're just delusional. If anyone thinks she looks angelic you better bet they're comparing her to Lucifer."

Was he? Delusional.

Tess always made him feel like he was faced with a Truth Mirror whenever he opened his big mouth around her.

After a couple of hours, you've already cooked some things — with the little help he could offer — for the both of you, taken notes of the people you need to talk to.

Joel realizes that time passes only when you.

Outside of your presence, it's all a snowball. Stale.

"Ah, shit." You get up in a rush.

"What?"

"Almost lost the time for my pills again," you mutter under your breath.

"You really need a watch." From where he sits at your kitchen table he can see your profile — the roll of your eyes. He huffs in disbelief, ignoring the feeling of his mouth tugging in the corners.

After you take your med, you sit on the couch and find his gaze from across the room. "Clean the table for me?"

Joel never says no to you.

Not for lack of want — fucking god must know how many times he's craved saying it, enunciating each letter with gusto. No.

It never came out.

He cleans the table thinking about how much he's delaying it.

The book's inside his duffel bag that remained next to your door all this time, but it weighs on his back somehow.

He did more than just clean the table as he tried pushing down the little mean jabs his mind took at itself.

You can't force her to stay outta business.

She ain't never listened to a soul in her life—who are you to tell her what to do?

Once every while, you would venture into Joel's personal space and place a finger where his brows pinched together. The first time it happened, the effect had been immediate—Joel was so shocked by the act that his whole face relaxed; not his body, though. His body froze, and he had stood there in a perfect portrayal of a statue.

You do that when he sits on the couch.

Your presence is so damn familiar to him that even lost in his own mind, he finds his way through the maze. He sits by your side, leans back, and drops his head on the couch.

When he feels your finger touching his frown, Joel opens his eyes.

"What's bothering you?" Your finger leaves, and he misses it.

Joel turns his head to the side. "Nothin'." He likes the way the color's back to your cheeks. A week on anti-inflammatory meds made you a little gray, and nothing about you was dull.

"You're a shit liar," you say.

He scoffs. "No, I'm not."

"You really are, though," you argue, fighting a smile. "And just so you know, your accent gets thicker the harder you try."

At that, he frowns. "No, it doesn't—" and fuck, he hears it. How the fuck did you notice that? His frown deepens, and you chuckle at him. "You pay attention to the strangest fuckin' things." It's said in the same gruff way he says most things, but there's enough admiration underneath it that you hear it for what it is.

"And thank god for that — it's what's kept me alive. Us alive," you snort, giving yourself the credit you're due for once.

In the end, he blurts it out. "I found it."

"Found what?" you ask, truly confused at the abrupt change.

"Something you told me I couldn't."

"That's... oddly vague," you reply. "I name a lot of things you can't find. You seem to think you have superpowers."

"No powers. Just talent." He shrugs, and gets up to retrieve the book. "What's the one thing you told me there was 'no fucking way' I could find?"

The second it takes for your brain to connect the dots is the time Joel needs to find the copy in his bag.

Joel sees your eyes dropping to it when he turns around. Widening. Freezing that way. Your lips parting only a couple of inches as your jaw slowly drops.

He sits with more satisfaction on your couch than he's sat anywhere in a long time.

The book falls with a soft thud between your bodies.

All the space he puts between you two is replaced by it —

Mary Shelley, Frankenstein.

"You know what this means, don't you?" he asks.

When you look up, Joel's caught off guard.

The moisture in your eyes shines under the light coming from your kitchen. Joel's throat becomes restricted by an invisible force, and his eyes sting in response to the sight.

"What the fuck, Joel?" your hands pick up the book with a reverence that makes his skin tingle. "Where... how —" both times you start, then stop. "My god." He just watches. You turn the book around, eyeing every millimeter. "This is real," you mutter. He's aware you're not even talking to him at this point. "Have you—" you look up at him, and he feels special enough, "have you opened it? Are the pages—it's whole?"

The way you breathe out the word.

A reverence. So sacred.

Joel might as well consider the bet paid if he wasn't so far gone on what he wants.

Kind of.

"It's whole," he confirms.

Joel almost opens up his mouth to make a teasing remark. Ask if you'd like to be left alone with it, maybe. Instead, he lets you examine it to your heart's will, which takes a while.

He's always comfortable in the silence with you.

That's when he started realizing the trouble he was in.

When he came over just to sit at the same table as you. Have dinner in silence while you cleaned your guns. Sometimes, he'd imagine a bottle of scotch would make the two of you end up in whispered conversations under the dim, yellowish lights of your place, but it never happened.

Joel's too much of a coward to let his guard down with you.

He wouldn't be able to do what he did with the others — a sweet release in the dark; an impersonal match of bodies, mingled in sweat and joined in more ways than it should seem possible, but never looking each other in the eye.

You looked him straight into his soul when you spoke to him. Every time.

"This means... you won the bet," you say.

Joel blinks out of his thoughts. "Sure does."

"So." You put the book down gently on your lap, then gaze at him, eyes piercing into his. "What d'you want?"

Tough question. Joel felt the tingle that never left his skin covering him from head to toe. His throat constricts around the words — his body starts to heat up. He shakes his head, and is overwhelmed by how the air seems to charge between you both. He licks his lips, and says.

Like a coward, his eyes fall on Frankenstein before he speaks.

"Can't have what I want." The naked truth. What's the point of lying to you, anyway? You're a shit liar. "So I'll ask for a close second," he adds quickly. Something magnetic pulls at him, and he looks up — a mistake. Fucking mistake—you never looked at him this way. Is that red on your cheeks? "I — uh; I want a voucher. A veto power."

You blink, utterly confused. "What?"

"A veto power over you." It's the closest he could think of on his way here. Some kind of power, since Joel has no right to demand anything from you. "On a decision. I—If you said you're comin' on a mission, for example. I could say 'no. Veto.' and that'd be it. No arguments. I want a veto card over you. Just one."

You stare at him for a few seconds, and Joel can almost see the engines in your brain turning.

Joel sometimes feels you're more than just yourself. The eyes on your head see far beyond what's in front of them, and he feels naked quite often when in front of you.

"Just tell me what you want," you say.

Can't have what I want, he told you. He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter."

"How would you know?"

"I just do," he argues.

"Maybe you're wrong."

"I'm not!" The storm swirls and lifts him from the couch. Joel turns his back to you, overcome by the reality of it all. "I know I'm not. There isn't—what I want is impossible. There's no such thing anymore. It ain't like the books, or finding fucking chocolate or—it ain't. I wanted you safe. How fuckin' stupid is that—" he chokes on air, gasping around the words. "There's no safe anymore." Softer, and lower, it comes out again. "There's no safe."

Most of the time, Joel's control is kept on a tight leash. His hands have a vicious grip around it because if he loosens it, it'll run off.

His hands are shaking now. He should turn back to face you, to see if he's just said too much or fucked it up somehow, but—you get up. He hears the squeaking of the couch and your steps approaching.

Then, as slowly as you approached him when you first met, he feels it:

Your hands slide around his middle. Your palms spread across his back and contour his waist, and you're hugging him—you hug him from behind, and Joel's chest expands with the air that your presence brings.

"Joel." You hug tighter. He can feel your upper body pressed against his back, and his hands come up to rest on top of yours, shaking as they are. He wants to speak up, but you beat him to it. "I thought I was going crazy, Joel."

Crazy? He is going crazy. You're wrapped around him and the world is yet to implode; Joel feels a knot in his throat that wasn't there before. "Why?"

It hits him — the answer.

Before you're able to say it hits him in the chest, because your hands grip him by the ribcages but not with force; all your fingers need to do is apply gentle pressure on him and Joel feels that you want him to move, so he lets you.

You spin him inside your hold, and Joel goes willingly.

When he's turned and facing you, the answer is there, all over your face.

Your hands stay on his back, but your eyes are searching on every inch of his face for any sign, for anything to deter you from what you want to do.

Joel sees it. He is delusional.

"I want the impossible too," you say. It comes out in a soft whisper, and Joel mentally curses all the moments of silence between you two where he felt the air as palpable as you inside his arms right now. When you looked at him, almost through him, and he turned a blind eye to it in fear that it was exactly what he wanted and craved for. "Is it — too much?"

He's incapable of answering.

His hands come up to your face, and he fits his palm on the set of your jar, where his thumb can touch your cheeks.

You melt to the touch, eyes closing along the way.

All those times you two shared a laugh and a look, and the silence hung in the air as your eyes were unable to leave each other — this. It could've been this.

"Tell me to stop and I will," is all he can say before he dives.

Joel meets you underwater.

The same way you're drowning in his hands with all of your weight supported on his body, Joel submerges as his mouth meets your kiss.

It's a waiting game — you were waiting for the moment he'd realize, he thinks.

Joel may be out of touch with reality itself, but some things can pierce through different dimensions.

Raw things never fail to elicit the strongest form of feeling and your desire pulls him under—real, demanding.

Although he remembers being a vocal partner in bed, he has no words or taunting remarks for you—he'd rather kiss.

Your mouth parts so eagerly for him that Joel wants to shut up.

He has you shutting up, moaning in his mouth as his tongue slides on yours. His fingers grip tighter on your hair. Your arms cling to him, then both of them let go to wrap around his shoulders instead, and Joel feels the despair as you climb up higher, as you press your body harder against him.

He understands it. Empathizes, even — he's feeling it on him the same way.

Your desperate, wet kisses rekindle connections long lost in his brain.

Joel remembers the desperate and insane horniness of youth when hormones mix with inexperience and everything feels new and like a raw, open nerve.

This tastes like those moments.

It'd been so long since Joel was touched and your hands start a mapping of his body that start to get him drunk.

It hits him that it's you. He's kissing you, and you're kissing back with so much force that he has no air, there's no air in his lungs—

He pulls back, gasping, and feels your nails digging into his scalp. The moan scratches the back of his throat and Joel only notices his eyes are still closed when your forehead touches his and your breath starts mingling with his.

Opening his eyes is a blessing. And a curse, most likely.

Seeing your mouth swollen and puffy makes him greedy.

Then — "Are you stopping?" you ask. Hoarse voice. Breathless. "I didn't tell you to stop," you add, whining.

Joel picks you up in one motion, and the laughter that bubbles out of your chest reminds him that you're light — you're the ghost that pops up in his dreams shining with the pink hue of sundown and you're the hope of his mornings, the scent of coffee and pages and herbs that make him feel like this earth could still have a sense of home even if he denies that fact, gritting his teeth at the fact the world still goes on.

He pins you against the nearest wall. One without a shelf, or furniture.

With you pressed against the wall, he has better support. He can trace your thighs with his palm, can get his hands underneath your cotton shorts, your blouse.

"Are you trying to kill me?" you ask him. Your head hits the wall behind you, and Joel looks up to see you watching him as he maps you. You visibly swallow when your gazes meet, and Joel wants to say so fucking much, but nothing comes out at first.

All he wants is to make the pink on your lips become permanent.

He wants to rip every item of clothing on you with his hands, and wants to —

"Joel," you lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss and stealing all the images he had of you pinned on your own wooden floor, cheeks pressed against it as he took you from behind.

When your tongue meets his, Joel feels something snapping.

He growls into the kiss, both of his hands groping your asscheeks as he desperately grinds his hips against your body.

This kiss is even better than the first, even if it kills all of his oxygen faster.

Joel never kissed like this. Not this messy, this wet and sloppy mess of need, and dry humping, and swallowing your moans only to have them be echoed back to you when you grind your hips down in the perfect way—

When he pulls back for air this time, Joel grips your head by the hair, making a fistful at your nape.

"This is not just now, is it?" he asks. His own voice sounds like sandpaper and pure lust, and he's not even beginning.

"No, no," you shake your head. "I need you, Joel."

"Fuckin' hell," he has more to say, but now he needs you naked. "'m gonna take off your clothes. Then I'm gonna eat your pussy 'cause I've thought about it too many fuckin' times." Your jaw falls open at him, and Joel smiles despite himself. "Yeah. You gonna let me, baby? Hm?"

Your only answer is to nod desperately, grinding against him as your eyes close.

Joel's in heaven. "Did I win what I want?" he asks.

"What?"

"My veto," he pulls you away from the wall and starts carrying you to your bedroom. "I still want it. Can't have the impossible but I can have a veto."

You laugh as he kicks your door open. "You want a fucking veto? Joel, all you have to do is hold me by the chin and say 'no' or 'yes' and I'd do it. It's that simple. Always have been. " You grab his face between your hands and pierce him with those All Seeing Eyes. "I'll give you your veto, if that's what you want." You kiss his lips, sighing softly. "'m sorry I can't promise you I'll be safe, but I can promise I'll try."

Joel knows he's about to do something that can't be taken back when he lies you down.

He nods just so you know he understood, but the knot's formed again and if he speaks, Joel will cry — the words wouldn't come out anyway, even if he wants to say them.

Joel's unsure if they haven't been burned out of his tongue.

He takes off your clothes one by one. Ironic for someone who wanted them ripped to pieces not a minute ago, but to have you laid in front of him soothes the desperation somehow.

His plans get interrupted, though, because once you're naked and all of his brain is mushed into nothing but skin skin you you touch touch touch, you stop him from kneeling down at the edge of the bed with a touch and one request, "You too?" your gaze is so open and vulnerable that his hands go to his shirt. "No — lemme. Please."

Joel does, and you do the same to him, taking his clothes off one by one.

When you drop to his knees in front of him, Joel is powerless.

He's too stunned to say or do anything but look.

Even his hands that itch to touch only manage to do so when they're flying for some support so his knees don't buckle and he falls — you grab his cock by the base with one hand, look up until his eyes are locked on yours, and then licks a wet stripe from his balls to the tip.

Then you do it again, and again, until Joel's coated in saliva, and you can suck around the tip, swallowing him down in one go.

He grips your hair for life support, cursing under his breath.

Joel's vocal about how much you're fucking killing him.

You go at it slowly, which is even more torture, but he gets it. He remembers you talking about not being with a person for the longest time. How it made no difference for you to have the physical or not because the attraction wasn't there unless there something underneath it — for someone who's out of practice, you must have the knowledge.

Your tongue runs on the sensitive skin between the dick and his balls, your mouth suctions when it's taking him down and when you start bobbing your head, using your hand to cover the parts your mouth can't reach, Joel has to physically pull you back.

"Stop, stop —" his hand on your hair pulls you back, and Joel curses again when you whine at having to let go. "'m gonna fuck you, baby, it's okay, 's okay," he gets you up by the neck, and is kissing you right after.

That's how he falls in bed with you — with his cock leaking pre-cum, his back already coated in sweat and your mouth tasting like him.

Joel eases the fall with his hand, not wanting to crush you with his weight. He wants to eat you out — Joel wants to bury his face in you, but when he makes a move to go down, your legs clamp around his waist and your head starts shaking.

You pull back from his kiss, "No — later, you can do that later, just — please," you guide your hand between your bodies to hold him and guide his cock to your entrance. "Waited too long, Joel."

I need you, Joel.

"Wait, wait — " it'll be over too fast if he sees you all the time. Joel has an idea. "A position that's better for you first. I wanna see you too, but I want you to feel good. Turn around for me."

"You want me on all fours?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Just turn around."

You obey him, and Joel grabs one of your pillows to push under your waist. You rest your cheek on the one under your head, and he positions himself first before crowding your space with his head on the crook of your neck.

He dips his fingers in first, spreading your wetness all over you before lining up.

It's sinful how good the position is.

He fills you up, bottoming all the way out. Joel's thick, but not too long, and he knows this angle is as good for you as it is for him. "Feels good?" he asks in your ear.

Your only response is his name.

"Is that a yes?" he pulls all the way out, and slams it back in, wanting to feel the drag. Wanting to feel your walls clamping around him. How you open up to accommodate all of him. "'Cause you feel like — fuckin' heaven, baby — louder, say it louder —"

"Feels amazing, Joel," you cry.

He knows it does. Joel hasn't felt anything remotely close to pleasure in a long time, so this might be too much, he might be in danger of growing an addiction, but he's past caring.

He drags it out.

Joel wanted to fuck you senseless a while ago, but now all he wants is to stay buried in the tight and warm haven of your cunt until you're both too spent to move a muscle. "'m gonna stay — all fuckin' night — inside you, baby — hm, whaddaya think?"

"Yes, please—"

"God, I love — that's all you can say to me."

"Don't stop," you cry out louder.

"I won't." He couldn't.

He doesn't want to. He doesn't.

Joel thrusts into you slow, measured and deep, until the heat in his groin is climbing like your nails digging at his sides. He loses count of how many times he sucks on your shoulders, how many bite marks you must have on your neck, of how many single-worded compliments he spills in your ears as he fucks the words out of you.

When you beg to cum, Joel flips you over and hoists your leg higher so he can go in deeper, and he fucks you the way you've been begging him to — crying around his fingers for harder, and faster, Joel, please, please, I'm not gonna break —

He gives it to you like both of you have been dying to receive, and when your legs start shaking around him and his name drops from your lips in a scream, Joel pulls out, coating your stomach in the hot strings of his cum.

He doesn't collapse on top of you, which is a miracle.

He does lay strategically next to you in order to avoid his own mess until he's able to feel his legs again.

Your fingers thread his hair during that time.

The spasms of your legs make him smile, and the little hums that leave you without you even realizing make Joel float on his bliss.

When he comes back to himself, he gets up to get a warm towel. He cleans you both, just enough so sleeping is okay. He pulls up the duvet and puts you underneath it before climbing under as well.

When he lays, Joel expects you to turn around;

Instead, you wrap around him in octopus style, and whisper, "Turn around."

He obeys, and is rewarded by you spooning him.

Joel thinks he might be dreaming.

"Are you gonna be here tomorrow?" you ask after a while.

Your bodies are as tangled as they can be. Your hands caress the hairs on his chest and your breath is on his neck, and still, you are stared he'll leave.

"D'you want scrambled eggs or you prefer the toast?" he replies.

There's a kiss on his neck. Another on his shoulder. He grabs one of your hand to pull it to his lips, and kisses it.

"Scrambled."

"'kay. Where d'you keep your sugar? I can never find it."

"I'll show you tomorrow," you kiss his shoulder, and squeeze his body. "Joel?"

"Yeah, baby?"

He can feel your smile because your lips are on his skin. He's gonna use that more, he thinks. "I might wake up rubbing myself all over you," you whisper.

He laughs. "Fine by me."

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