inspired by this tiktok, sent to me by @abrokenlink
The bright peals of your laughter blended in with the raucous noises of the bar, but he heard it as clear as if he was standing next to you.
He had invited you out to celebrate your recent promotion yet somehow finds himself miserably watching as a mere stranger entertains you. You laugh outrageously loud at another thing he said and - you must be drunk, right? So incredibly drunk you can't be thinking straight because why else would you be ignoring him for that jackass standing next to you?
He's concocting the perfect plan to dramatically steal your attention and whisk you away while simultaneously making the guy shit his pants for ever talking to you. But you've lost your balance and now your hand's on his arm to steady yourself and he's putting an arm around your waist -
The glass he's holding shatters in his hand, alcohol from the long-forgotten drink splattering his clothes. He groans, convinced the night couldn't get any worse, but he feels a soft hand on his arm and looks up to see your face filled with concern, and feels nothing short of cocky to have your attention again.
You, though, were entirely confused. Some guy had come up to you at the bar, struck up a conversation, and you didn't have the heart to turn him down. You indulged him, and probably had a bit too much to drink, but it was all harmless.
The next thing you know, the bar's quiet as the sound of shattering glass echoes throughout the room. And when you turn, you see him, covered in alcohol, staring at the blood running down his fingers.
You're asking him, Are you okay, what happened?, but he looks up with an incredibly smug smirk, considering the situation, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with his non-bloody hand.
"Glad you're paying attention to me, love."
a/n: i didn't necessarily write this with a character in mind, hope that's okay!
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The first time the villain kissed the hero it was rough and quick. A hard press to their lips, a firm grip on their hair, and nothing. The hero hadn’t expected it, there had been no warning, no slow build up. Just a fight, a push against a wall, a push of lips against their own, and then they were alone.
The second time the villain kissed the hero it wasn’t real. It was in the hero’s dreams, again and again. For days they dreamed of nothing else. These kisses differed; sometimes the same roughness, sometimes slower. The hero always woke, though, moments before they could kiss back. Their heart would be pounding, the sheets tangled around their legs, the warmth of villain's lips still somehow engrained on the hero’s mouth.
The third time the villain kissed the hero, the hero kissed first. The villain had been avoiding them, they hadn’t seen their rival in weeks. The hero had begun to think they wouldn't see them again. And then, they were there. Somehow, the hero had imagined the villain would look different, be different. But they were the same. Their lips, which the hero found themselves staring at, were the same. And, after dreaming about it for weeks, the hero finally realised how desperately they had wanted to kiss the villain back. And how angry they were that the villain had run away.
They were alone, thankfully, and the hero didn’t waste a second. The villain, obviously thinking they were approaching for a fight, braced themselves for the wrong thing. The hero lunged, grabbed the back of the villain’s neck and kissed them. It was rougher than the first time, rougher than anything in their dreams. The villain pulled them away, held their cheeks tight, stared into their eyes, and pulled them into such a gentle kiss the hero barely felt it.
The fourth time the villain kissed the hero, the villain didn’t let a single part of their body go untouched by their lips.
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Double Secret Extravaganza
A/N: PRE Shang-Chi reveal into Shang-Chi, so it’ll switch from Shaun to Shang-Chi in the middle of it.
Also, I’m behind on work but procrastinating, hahahaha such is life.
Pairings: Shang-Chi x Avenger!Reader (not a Stark)
Warnings: The usual for me, lots of swears, fighting
Summary: Your boyfriend said he had personal business to take care of, which worked out well for you because you wanted to do some things for yourself as well. Unfortunately, you didn’t think his personal business would mix in with your fight life.
Shaun was off dealing with some personal issues, something you understood completely. He gave you a quick kiss and said that he needed to run to help his sister, and you were fine with this. You completely understood this. As an Avenger, one of which was on a break after the whole world was fucked by a walking, talking purple thumb, you understood the importance of making time to help family.
Hell, you even offered to go along and help him, but Shaun told you he’d feel so much better if you stayed home, and that Katy was going to help him, and you would see him soon. Given that you had your own issues to deal with, this worked out in your favor.
Granted, he didn’t really know that your issues involved a fight club.
Look, it was a great way to make some extra money. You were (F/N) (L/N), Avenger, and you had been through a lot of shit. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to ditch all this superhero stuff and try to lead a normal life! Plus, with global security no longer privatized and Tony Stark now dead, your options weren’t as great and plentiful as they used to be, which brought you here, The Golden Daggers club.
Well, technically, it brought you out to your usual meeting spot first, where you would wait for a portal to open from Wong, and you would climb on through and get started.
Your match that night was against Emile Blonsky, otherwise known as Abomination (Bruce would not be happy to hear about this) and Wong, in a triple threat match that was going to make the three of you enough money to sit pretty for as long as you wanted, if you wanted to.
For fights like this, rather than wear your usual gear, you retired it and opted to wear an old all-black stealth uniform. On top of that, you were pulling your punches. Plus, well, you had already been warned once by the owner that you’ve been hitting a little too hard and nearly killed just a few too many, so you were sort of on watch this time around. With your powers of cryokinesis, you were making a show of this, creating a miniature blizzard just to the daze the two men as you attacked them, then hiding in the snow as they fought one another.
Abomination knocked himself out, of course, and you and Wong danced around each other, fighting until you reached a stalemate and both of you were using your powers against one another.
“Holy shit. Dude, is that (Y/N)?” You swore you heard Katy shouting over the crowd.
A shocked, booming voice that was screaming your name startled you, and you whipped your head to the side to see Shaun after he had yelled your name, staring at you in what you assumed was a look of betrayal, confusion, and fear. It was probably all of them. You couldn’t really think straight at the moment. A feeling hit the pit of your stomach that was worse than those nightmares of going to school naked and everyone pointing and laughing at you.
And that’s how Wong knocked you on your ass and won the fight. As you were dragged out of the cage, Wong muttered behind you that he always told you to not lose focus in your fights, and here you were doing exactly that and losing in a total upset.
In the locker room, you sat on the floor with your back against the wall, nursing your own iced-over palm against your cheek as you listened to Wong scold both you and Abomination before leaving with him. Katy spotted you, along with Shaun, and Katy was the first one to run over and stand over you.
“Dude, you’re an Avenger! That’s sick! I can’t believe all this time you were a superhero and you didn’t tell us! Oh my god. I bet you make bank in here,” Katy gushed. “You should teach me that weird hand thing you did, you know, before you lost.”
You took a deep breath and looked at her before glancing at Shaun and back at Katy, “What the hell are you two doing here? I thought he had to save his sister?”
“Yeah, she’s somewhere around here apparently. Now he’s going to fight. Oh, and that’s not even his name! Can you believe that?”
“Ladies, Bus Boy here has got to get ready for his fight! Driver girl, my guys will be happy to escort you to the bar and get you settled in to watch the fight,” He told Katy as she rushed out of the locker room, yelling for you to meet her for a drink.
You stood up and quickly walked over to Shaun as Jon Jon told him to take his shirt off, “You’re fighting? What the hell are you doing here, Shaun? I thought you were supposed to be helping your sister, not making more viral videos.”
“Me?!” He scoffed as he peeled off his clothes, “You know, you’ve got a lot of nerve (Y/N). What the hell are you doing here? Oh, wait. Don’t answer. You’re a freaking Avenger!” He laughed in disbelief and shook his head, “All this time I’ve been seeing an Avenger and you just, you just lied to me! What else are you lying about? Is that even your name?”
“Yes, okay! It is my name, and, yes, fine, I am an Avenger. Or a retired Avenger? I don’t know, the details on that are kind of iffy. But Shaun, you’re -- what the hell? Why are you here fighting?”
“Supposed to find my sister.” He repeated through gritted teeth
“In a fight club?” You scoffed, “Why would she be in a fight club? Don’t tell me she’s also some bad ass fighter or something.”
“I don’t know, (Y/N)!” He shouted, “You know, one minute I’m on the bus playing Candy Crush, and the next minute I’m fighting off my father’s assassins who are after my pendant, and now I’m here to help my sister and I find you here fighting a giant monster and a wizard!”
“Sorcerer,” You corrected him quietly.
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
“Hey, I’m not the only one with secrets here!” You shouted as Jon Jon dragged him away, “Wait! Jon Jon we weren’t done -- god damn it! Wait, Shaun isn’t even your name? You can fight? What the hell is going on!”
Annoyed, you went and joined Katy by the bar, slamming yourself down on a chair next to her and glaring up at your boyfriend, who was also less than amused as he stared down at you, still in disbelief over who you were and your massive secret.
“So what even is his name?” You muttered under your breath.
“Shang-Chi. Can you believe that?” Katy asked as the fight started. “He went from Shang-Chi to Shaun. It’s unreal.”
After you watched Shang-Chi get his ass kicked by what you learned to be his sister, you quickly went to Xialing’s office to meet the both of them. You leaned against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest, meeting your boyfriend’s glare as he nursed his wounds and glared at you, all the while Katy was trying to hide the money she won at his expense.
“There’s a lot of tension here,” Xialing said, looking between you and her brother. “You know each other.”
“They’re dating,” Katy blurted out. “And totally just discovered the other one has super badass fighting secrets. I think they’re pissed.”
“It’s not important right now,” Shang-Chi huffed.
You remained quiet and chose to osberve. You listened to Shang-Chi and his sister go back and forth before learning that the club was being raided. Xialing and Jon Jon disappeared to safety, leaving you with Katy and your boyfriend.
“Okay, we’ve got to go,” Shang-Chi said quickly as he broke the window and stepped out on to the ledge. “Come on!”
“I’ll stay here,” You said quickly. “I can give you guys some time.”
Shang-Chi stiffened as he realized how dangerous it could be, his father’s assassins fighting you, and how they would stop at nothing to take you out if it meant they got to the siblings.
“Don’t. Just get out here, come with us.”
“You need time,” You waved your hands, icicles forming in each. “I can give it. Go!”
“Wait, wait!” He shouted, making you look over your shoulder at him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying to you. Please, please be careful. Come back to me.”
You smiled softly in his direction and nodded, “I’m sorry too. Don’t worry, I’m stronger than you think.”
“I’m beginning to see that.”
As much fighting as you did, there were just too many men who would avoid your warpath and go in search of Shang-Chi, Katy, and Xialing directly. The fighting only came to an end when Wenwu, who was heading to meet his son, spotted you fighting his men. He watched for a moment, interest in the woman his son was seeing was little as he observed you before sending five rings into your gut and knocking you clean out of the window.
You would free fall for quite some time before you were able to compose yourself and use your powers to fly back up just before hitting the ground. You shot through the broken windows and had a crash-landing next to Shang-Chi and his father, who looked down at you in disgust while Shang-Chi quickly knelt down and helped you up.
“Captain Bangles over there is a cheap shot,” you muttered.
“That’s my father.”
“…Your father’s a cheap shot,” You muttered as you leaned on him and cradled your stomach. “Why do I feel like I just barged in on something bad?”
“You could say that,” he cleared his throat, “I am so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t want you mixed in this.”
You exhaled slowly and squeezed his hand, “I mean, this isn’t how I had planned on meeting the family, but I’ll take it.”
And that was how you found yourself in the middle of your boyfriend’s origin story into his superhero-ness. Things were put into perspective rather quickly, and when you had a moment alone, both of you ended up apologizing profusely for lying about your pasts, and both of you found it easy to understand the other, given the secrets you were hiding.
And through this entire ordeal, you stood beside Shang-Chi’s side, no matter how much his father glared at you, or uttered that you were beneath him and not worthy of the man he had raised. You were going to stay by his side and make sure he, and those he loved, were as safe and sound as possible, as long as you could help it.
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“Never again,” Enjolras said through clenched teeth.
“Shh,” Grantaire scolded, though he sounded like he was trying not to laugh as he gently ran his hand through the fine golden curls of the child asleep in his lap.
“I mean it,” Enjolras warned, shifting the kid who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. “I will not go through this again.”
Grantaire did laugh then, a quiet chuckle. “I can’t tell which you’re more upset about,” he started quietly, “losing at Uno, or—“
“We’re home!” Marius called from the front door, and in an instant, both children were awake.
“Daddy!” the golden-haired girl shrieked, while the boy who had been drooling on Enjolras’s shoulder ran straight to Cosette, who picked him up with a groan.
“You are getting way too big for this,” she sighed, but she was smiling as she carried him back into the living room. “How’d it go?”
Grantaire stood and kissed her cheek. “They were angels,” he assured her. “A real pleasure. And I’m not just saying that because I got to watch my husband get his ridiculously fine derrière kicked in Uno by two kids under the age of 7.”
Marius laughed, tickling his daughter’s stomach as he carried her into the living room as well. “Did they get you with the Draw-4s?” he asked Enjolras with something like sympathy.
Enjolras’s nostrils flared. “It’s fine,” he said stiffly. “The game was fine. It was after the game that was the problem.”
Marius and Cosette exchanged looks. “What did they do?” Cosette asked warily.
Grantaire rolled his eyes. “They did nothing,” he assured her. “He’s being a drama queen.”
“They were watching propaganda,” Enjolras hissed, and Marius’s eyes widened.
“I promise, that documentary about Ronald Reagan was a gift, I didn’t pay for it—“
“Not that,” Enjolras snapped. “They were watching—“ He broke off, a muscle working in his jaw. “Paw Patrol.”
He said the words like a curse, and Grantaire hastily turned his laugh into a cough. Marius frowned, confused, and Cosette cleared her throat, clearly stifling laughter. “Well, thank you for agreeing to babysit on such short notice, even if they, um, watched something so unsavory.”
“Could be worse,” Grantaire said in an undertone with a wink. “Could’ve been Baby Shark.”
Cosette shuddered. “Don’t even joke,” she warned.
Grantaire laughed. “Anyway, I should get this one home,” he said, taking Enjolras’s hand. “Enj, say goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Enjolras said sourly, and Grantaire shook his head, wrapping his arm around his waist as they walked toward the door.
“Daddy?” they heard Marius and Cosette’s daughter ask sleepily, and they paused. “What’s papa-ganda?”
Grantaire choked on his laughter, and Enjolras smirked. “Maybe babysitting isn’t such a bad thing after all.”
“Somehow I doubt they’re going to ask us back, but I’ll keep that in mind.”
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Val, my lovee! May I have a card from the The Nature Whispers Oracle Deck with Ace, please? It can be nsfw. Thank you so much, i love youu ❤ ~aqua tofana~
Lari babe! Of course I can do this for you 🥰❤️ Two cards popped out for him. The first being Lead love and Assurance. A source of love has awoken this new shift in energy let love be your beacon. Feel anew source of navigation try new things you won't regret it <3 don't be afraid to love Mi Amor. I hope you enjoy XOXOXOXO Aqua Tofana
Ace x GN Reader: Lead love and Assurance N/SFW
“Ace dont stop.” Panting small whispers Ace followed your orders as he continuously went in and out of you. “Yes commander yes.” biting your lower lip. “mmmm”
It was a quiet night on the ship. Both of you rarely got duty together at night shift as Marco didn’t trust you both being together knowing you both may slack off. But you assured Marco we would be mindful and keep watch on duty. You never had the perfect time to speak to him about how you felt about him. The conversation becomes deep with one another. As you initiated the first kiss it the tension became more and more passionate.
In one of the storage closet, containing the moans escaping from both of you. “______.. ______...______” he moaned over and over. His mind becomes consumed in his passion and lust filled rage. “Tell me your mines from this point on.” panting as his cock was sliding in and out of you.
“Aces I’m yours i’ve always been yo….of fuck yes baby right there just like that yes yes yes oh fuck.” the words escaping your mouth in a whining tone. “Ace, I love you so much.”
“I love you too _______.” his forehead resting against yours feeling his hot breath brushing against your lips. Your legs wrapping around his waist you laid on top of the large crate his warm bare chest was against your. Aces lips pressing against yours deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours. His fingers running up and down your thighs the sloshing sounds as he continued to move in and out of you. Your fingers tugging at the back of his hair. The words I love you were hitting Ace hard. It was taking him a moment from you to process it. He began to slow this thrusting, picking his head up his freckle face looking at yours . “_____ do you mean it?”
“I do mean it. I love you so much.” your thumb swiping his freckle cheek “There isn’t one person in the world that I want more than I want you.”
Leaning in as his lips touched yours once again. His hands tilting your thighs up just bit the penetration hitting your sweet spot raising his body up he watch as he began to to fuck you. Clenching around his cock he let out a low groan “Nnngh right there Commander Ace.” you watched as his body rocked back and forth against yours.
Tagging: @portgaslari , @portgaslari, @elen87
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hi if requests are still open can you write 🎭 with asmo and mc? thank you so much
"You want to see the real me?" - Asmodeus/MC
content warning: body horror?
You’re not sure what came over you as you stand here now, facing the Avatar of Lust with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He looks at you coldly, the earlier brief show of hurt on his features nowhere to be found. A shudder runs down your spine, fingers curled into the palms of your hands as you recognize that gaze -- the one he first regarded you with, when you were nothing but a stranger living in his home. Nothing more than some random human, some potential plaything. It hurts, but you only have yourself to blame.
“I-I’m sorry, Asmo, I didn’t mean to say it like that.” You shake your head, trying to fix this. “I must have had too much to drink, I -- “
“No, no, please, do go on, MC.” The derisive tone of his voice stabs you in the chest, a knot in your stomach forming at the way his lips slightly curl into a chilling smile. “Tell me all about how you truly feel. I’d love to know.”
“Asmo, please!” An exasperated plea as you slowly take a step towards him. “I-I only meant that, that it would be nice to see more of the real you -- “
“The real me?” Asmodeus scoffs, his eyes glowing dangerously. His claws grow longer, his teeth sharper, his wings larger. Now he steps towards you, forcing you to retreat as his form continues to shift. “You want to see the real me? Hah!”
You can’t help the gasp that leaves you as Asmodeus graces you with a form of his you've never seen before -- two more pairs of eyes appear on his face, smaller than his main pair but burning with the same flame as sclera turns jet black. The flesh on either side of his mouth tears apart to reveal a pair of small pincer-like jaws, threatening to tear anything in their grasp to shreds. From behind him, you see a large scorpion tail curl in on itself, a uniquely shaped stinger at the end ready to paralyze any prey. His four wings could now easily wrap you ten times over -- each. His ears have turned bat-like, twitching occasionally as they pick up on every sound around you, including the distant music from the ongoing nightlife.
“Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but this is the closest to the real me you’ll ever get.” His voice sounds like it’s rippling through the air, somehow having both a melodic quality as well as a threatening vibrato. You stretch your neck to look into his eyes as he now towers even more above you despite having brought his face closer to yours, but you’re caught off-guard by what you see in them -- instead of the cold fury you expected, there seems to be a sadness instead. “Are you happy now? Or are you just full of even more disgust?”
“Oh, Asmodeus …” You reach your arms out, fingers grazing the sides of his face not occupied by eyes or pincers. “I was never disgusted with you. Never!” Hot tears begin streaming down your cheeks as you realize how much you had upset him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for making you think otherwise. P-please, believe me!”
“I want to, darling.” He speaks quietly before taking a step back, his form beginning to alter again as he turns away. “I thought you were different, after all.” A pause, and your heart breaks at his next words.
“But maybe I was wrong.”
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Peaky blinders Thomas Shelby 🤰
pairing: thomas shelby x reader
word count: 300+
fandom: peaky blinders
The meeting began normally. Tommy had arranged for the rest of his family members and a few of the other Peaky Blinders to meet at your shared mansion to discuss business. Although you were pregnant you decided to attend. Just like Tommy, you took the Shelby company incredibly seriously and you wanted to contribute if you could.
One moment your hand was resting comfortably on your plump belly. The next your water suddenly broke. Interrupting Tommy just as he was speaking about his plan to distribute products in American when you yelled to get his attention. “Tommy! The baby!”.
Just like that every head in the room goes spinning in your direction. The men look completely helpless, wide eyed and confused. Polly on the other hand sprints into action. Having delivered several babies before, she rushes toward and orders Ada over as well.
“It’s time. The baby’s coming” Polly confirms, just in case it didn’t hit the men the first time you announced the news. Tommy tries to walk over to give you aid as well but Polly shoos him off. “Everyone out of the room. Let the woman handle this”.
You don’t need to tell John, Arthur, or the others twice. Following Polly’s command, they exit the room to give the lady’s the space they need. Tommy however seems like he wants to stay and ensure his child arrives safely.
“There’s no good you can do for us here” Polly shakes her head, as Ada tells you to already begin pushing. “You’ll only get in the way. Now off with you, we’ll take good care of our dear [Y/N]”.
Tommy gives you a look, as if seeking proper permission from you. You’re already in a fair amount of pain and you really just want Polly to come over and get all this over without distractions. With this in mind you frantically wave Tommy away.
“Go. You heard your aunt. I’ll be fine” just as you finish saying that you let out a curse. That probably didn’t make you look anymore Congo ding but nonetheless, Tommy leaves. Finally Polly can get to work. “Now that those annoyances are out of the way, push!”.
masterlist | buy the author a coffee
tags: @your-pixels-are-showing / @myriadimagines / @imaginesbymk / @fangirlsarah16 / @lithiumarchangel / @jammesbarnnes / @woahitslucyylu / @gruffle1 / @gracie-pie / @kaetastic / @obsessedunicorn24 / @curlyhairedblueeyedangel / @thingsforimagination / @lucillethings / @thedarkqueenofavalon / @zeldafreak688 / @multifandomfix / @natasha-danvers / @champagneholland / @shelundeadxxxx / @ann-writes-things / @lozzypoz321 / @xspideyboyx / @beth-winchester21 / @simonsbluee / @ravenmoore14 / @rabeccablake / @inglourious-imagines / @bonniesgoldengirl / @ta-ka-shi-ma / @mollybegger-blog / @disneylaanddicaprio / @alwaysfangirlingish / @czarinera / @locke-writes / @smallheathgangsters / @crapimahuman / @tvwhoresblog / @mangoessassafras / @lilymurphy03 / @inu1gf
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first step: lunch
osamu x female reader
synopsis: the idea of osamu rushing to slam atsumu to the ground from telling you his secret and you laugh and his panicked smile turns into one of adoration
warnings: swearing, reader has hair
“Ohhh, you wanna kiss her so bad,” Atsumu obnoxiously teases Osamu.
“Quit it, or I ain’t making lunch for you anymore,” Osamu grumbles as he takes a bite of his sushi.
“Oh come on,” Atsumu nudges him a bit too harshly, “We gotta make a plan for yer confession!”
Osamu grimaces at Atsumu chewing with his mouth open and shoves a napkin in his mouth, “Shut yer trap, we don’t gotta do anything.”
Atsumu spits out the napkin with a disgusted groan, “Fine! I’ll do it for ya!” Atsumu stands up and cups his hands around his mouth, shouting across the courtyard, “Hey!” He calls your name.
Osamu lets instinct take over and tackles Atsumu to the ground in panic. “I’ll fucking kill ya,” He repeats over and over as he tries to cover Atsumu’s mouth. Atsumu retaliates by licking his brother’s palm. Osamu gasps and wipes his hand on Atsumu’s face. “Ya dirty pig-“
The brothers freeze. Osamu is on top of Atsumu in a position ready to strangle him. Your voice breaks him and Atsumu takes this chance to push his brother off and jump up with a grin.
“Hey, doll,” Atsumu rests his arm on your shoulder.
His action wakes Osamu and he scrambles up to meet your puzzled face, “Oh, uh, hi,” Osamu attempts a casual greeting, but his voice cracks just the tiniest bit.
“Did yer voice just crack?! That’s hilarious!” Atsumu explodes in laughter, still hanging on to you.
Osamu can’t even retort, a fiery blush taking over his face.
“You guys did call me over, right?” You’re still confused, but a soft smile tells Osamu you don’t mind.
Both brothers glare at each other.
“Osamu has to ask you-“
Osamu lunges for him again, but Atsumu quickly hides behind your back, whispers in your ear, and scurries off giggling.
“Whatever he said, don’t believe him,” Osamu rushes with fear.
Your shoulders fall slightly, “Oh, that’s okay, I better be going then.” You wring your hands.
“No, uh, I mean, what did he say?”
You quirk an eyebrow, “He said you wanted to have lunch with me?” You turn slightly shy and avoid his eyes.
You would have seen Osamu’s slightly panicked look turn soft as he watches your hair sway in the light breeze.
“I would love that.”
You look up with wide eyes, “You would?”
Osamu nods, gently grabs your wrist and brings you to sit next to him at the picnic table.
Across the courtyard, Osamu’s nosey team watches with anticipation, and for once, he doesn’t bother calling them out because all of his attention is on you.
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Drabble request for @owlheartt
Summary: Dream gets in big trouble with his brother and the gang find out a little unknown fact about said little skeleton.
“Cross . . .” Horror said in a low, but level tone. “I said get them . . . not eat them . . .”
The monochrome skeleton froze, scrunching his shoulders. He removed his fist from inside the bag of chocolate chips as quietly as possible and quickly swallowed the lump of semi-sweet goodness. Only then did he step out of the pantry and into the kitchen.
“I wasn’t eating them, it just took me a sec to find them,” he huffed, walking over to the counter where Dream and Horror stood, his fist hidden inconspicuously behind his back.
The latter turned around and stared with a lidded-socket at the chocolate smear on the corner of his mouth.
“Just give ‘em here . . .” he said and held out his hand.
Cross reluctantly placed the bag in Horror’s palm, receiving a satisfied grunt for his trouble, and walked over to where Dream stood. The little skeleton between them looked up and fidgeted excitedly in place. Smirking, Cross unclenched his hidden fist, revealing the chocolatey stowaways.
Dream grinned even wider as Cross poured the chips into his cupped gloves and immediately stuffed them in his mouth.
“Barely any left . . .” Horror mumbled, emptying the bag into his bowl.
“Well I can run and go get some more. It’s no big deal,” he said and added with a wink at Dream, “you can never have too much chocolate, right?”
“Right!” the child repeated with a matter-of-fact nod.
“It’s okay . . . don’t bother . . .” said Horror, scooping out a ball of cookie dough.
Cross shrugged. “Fine. But I still think we should use two bags next time. Oh! And maybe add some-”
“Dream! Come to your room this instant!” screamed a deep, booming voice.
The tiny skeleton gasped and darted under Cross’s long scarf before either adult had a chance to react.
Cross glanced over his shoulder. “Dream, what-”
“Shhh!” Dream interupted, peeking out his skull, “Don’t let Nighty know I’m here!”
“I won’t,” he assured him, “but tell me what happened. What did you do?”
The little child gazed at the floor.
“Dream, I know you can hear me. Come here,” the older sibling commanded.
But instead, Dream stiffened and huddled even closer to him. That’s when it clicked.
“Don’t tell me you broke the window . . .”
Dream nodded, pulling the scarf around him tighter.
Cross sighed. “Really, buddy? How many times have you done this now? Three?”
“Four . . .” Horror clarified to Dream's dismay.
“Four times!?” he exclaimed, causing the child to flinch. “I don’t understand- how do you keep breaking one window?”
“I don’t know! It- it’s just a stupid window . . .” Dream muttered sourly into the scarf.
“If you’re not here in three seconds, I’m going to drag you here myself!” Nightmare threatened, sounding very close to carrying out said threat.
“Yeah . . . maybe you should try telling him that,” said Cross, staring anxiously at the door.
“B-but he’s really mad!” Dream insisted.
“One . . . ”
“Then you better go talk to him before he gets madder,” he argued.
The child looked up with wide, pleading eyelights. “Can you go do it, Crossy? Please? I can- I’ll give you my cookie!”
“Two . . .”
“Two! I’ll give you two cookies!”
Cross folded his arms. “Sorry buddy, I can’t do it. You’re the one who broke it. Just tell him it was an accident. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“ . . . once he’s cooled off,” he added mentally.
Dream shrunk into himself, trying desperately to think of a way out of this that didn’t involve confronting his angry (and as a result, scary) twin, and coming up with nothing.
“But- but what if-”
The tiny skeleton squeaked and suddenly bolted out from under the scarf.
“Coming!” he shouted as he disappeared through the door.
Cross blinked, then slowly turned towards Horror, who looked just as confused and shocked as him.
“Did he just . . . is the kid’s name really Dreamscape?"
The other made an “I guess so” noise and went back to his bowl, scraping the remaining cookie dough off the sides.
“Do you think the others know?” Cross added, already pulling out his phone.
Horror handed him the dough-covered spatula. “Probably not . . .”
“Heh heh, perfect,” he chuckled, sticking the spoon in his mouth. “Killer’s gonna flip when he finds out.”
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wanting was enough (for me, it was enough) ; atsumu miya.
pairing atsumu miya x f!reader
synopsis atsumu miya has a tendency to never say the right thing, and it’s a good thing you don’t care.
content contains slight friends to lovers, mutual pining
author’s note secretly connected to this drabble, so we all know how the story ends </3
Atsumu Miya’s never been that great of a speaker.
He’s too blunt with his words; tactless, too. He says the wrong thing at the wrong time, and his jokes fall flat more often than they get laughs, and the only reason why he has so many fangirls is because they’re too busy staring at his face and his body to really focus on how he can’t flirt for shit.
It’s never really been a problem; maybe his mouth’s gotten him into more fights than he would’ve gotten involved in had he not said something stupid, and maybe his publicist wouldn’t be stressed out if he knew how to properly convey his thoughts on Twitter without toeing the dangerous line of saying something either controversial or just downright rude, risking his reputation all over 140 characters.
It’s never been a problem then, but it’s a problem now.
Now being the moment where he first meets you.
You’re looking for Bokuto. He can answer honestly, simply. Tell you that Bokuto’s in the locker room, probably showing off whatever patterned boxers he’s gonna be sporting when he gets out of practice (and then, Atsumu would probably make some attempt to be funny — ask you if you prefer guys who wear briefs or boxers, and no matter what you answer, he’ll go damn, I need to go buy some then). He can tell you that he doesn’t know, and then run back to the locker room to warn Bokuto that a (very pretty) businesswoman is looking for him. Then he thinks to himself, are you a businesswoman?
You look the part. Despite the sweltering heat of Japan’s harshest summer, you’re sporting a blazer, and he heard you coming before he even saw you, the click-clack of your heels meeting the freshly waxed court sounding like an omen.
He doesn’t realize he’s staring at you like an idiot before you raise an eyebrow at him.
“Excuse me? Sir? Do you know where I can meet with a Mr. Koutarou Bokuto? I’m supposed to be meeting with him in the next fifteen minutes, although it’s understandable if he isn’t ready yet since I did arrive before our scheduled time.”
He wants to say that no one has ever spoken so formally when in reference of Bokuto and that you really don’t have to call him sir since he’s pretty sure he’s got no more than three years on you, max. He also wants to mention that Mr. Koutarou Bokuto is probably comparing dick sizes with his teammates right now, and most likely forgot about your appointment. He doesn’t say that, though. Instead, he looks at you, with your shiny MacBook clutched to your chest and those heels that really don’t do much to bridge the gap in height between you two, and he processes the speed at which you speak, as if you’re being timed on how fast you can talk, and all he can say is:
“Wow, you’re intense.”
And you blink at him, clearly caught off guard, your mouth only able to formulate one word:
After that, you seemed to recover just fine from his statement, continuing to pester him about the whereabouts of Bokuto. Atsumu thinks you’re a lawyer. He tells you that, and by that time, you seem to anticipate that he says stupid shit because all you do is grin. You don’t even stop to gather your thoughts before explaining to him that no, you’re not a lawyer. Even when you’re done telling him that you’re an accountant working for the JVA, even when you’re done explaining to him just what exactly it is that you do, even when you spot Bokuto and you’re excusing yourself, telling him it was very nice speaking with you, Miya — even after all that, Atsumu still only has one thing to say.
“Wow, you’re intense.” He says it with more conviction this time, like the first time was just a subtle observation but this time — this time he knows it, could list specific examples and even write a thesis about you and your intensity. And you tell him, once again,
But you say it with a smile on your face this time, like you know something he doesn’t. There’s a lot he doesn’t know about — yet.
But he knows a lot more about you when the two of you are seated in a booth together, pressed up against each other so closely that he can’t even exhale without having his shoulders brush against the fabric of your blazer. (Even when you’re clocked out, you still wear one, like it’s a part of you. He finds out that you wear one all the time in public out of fear that you’re going to run into a boss or some head and that you don’t ever want to make a bad impression. You told him this when he had ketchup stains on his wrinkled, sweaty jersey.) He keeps that cute okay of yours tucked safely in the back of his mind, convinced that it’s something Shakespearean.
You stand out. Not just because you’re wearing nothing but office clothes at a diner close to midnight, and not just because you’re the only girl present, surrounded by nothing but hulking figures clad in sweat-soaked jerseys. You stand out because in a booth full of professional athletes, where winning and being competitive are somewhat required traits for the job, you’re the one with the most intense aura. He notices (because he notices a lot about you, more than he wants to admit) how when you stare at someone, it’s like you’re studying them. How everyone’s scared to talk to you sometimes because they never know how you’re going to break apart and analyze their sentence. You don’t mean to throw back their words in their faces, but you don’t necessarily serve them back stacked up neatly and nicely on a silver platter.
The guys joke around, say that you’re like a robot. You give them a smile in return. He knows that smile (see, because he knows quite a bit about you now). He knows that that’s your fake one, the one you put up for clients. Technically, you didn’t even want to be here, but Atsumu invited — more like begged — you to show up, and for some odd reason, you agreed.
“I can’t believe you’re even friends with this guy,” Meian says to you, nodding to Atsumu. “Is he blackmailing you or somethin’?”
You give a genuine smile this time when you shake your head. “No. It’s something even worse.” When you beckon all his teammates to come closer, you have your elbows on the sticky diner table, leaning forward, whispering conspiratorially.
“I actually like him.”
The guys break out into laughter, and you lean back in your seat, seemingly happy that your joke (he doesn’t want it to be a joke — please don’t be a joke) had such a positive reaction.
He knows that it’s just in your nature, really, to constantly weigh the pros and cons of everything you do. You’re methodical with even the most mundane of tasks, down to making whole entire research papers on the best possible shampoo and conditioner combination for your hair. If you’re that insane when it comes to what you put on your head, you should be even more cautious about what comes out of your mouth. Even your jokes are carefully planned out in your head, with you factoring in the personalities of the people you’re with and figuring out the right time to say it. So, he wonders, what was the thought process you had whenever you told everyone you liked him?
He carries your confession home in the to-go box from the diner. It’s heavy, matching the American theme of burgers containing his weight in meat and fries slick with oil and grease. The two of you are walking together, and he wants to ask you, specifically, what did you mean when you told the team you liked me?
But it’s hardly the time for him to hand you over his own confession. It’s been a long time coming, he knows that much. He knows that you must know that there’s something behind his prolonged eye contact during casual conversations; how he coincidentally just so happens to be the preferred middleman when it comes to you needing to relay information to any members of his team. When he stares at you and you catch him (which happens often because he stares quite a bit), he wonders if you see the deep-rooted longing behind his eyes, a direct window to his subconscious where he buries all his feelings towards you (and at the top of that pile is your okay).
You’re perceptive, and so, when the two of you are truly alone, you pause.
“Atsumu? Is there something you want to talk about?”
You don’t beat around the bush, just like him. It’s funny how when you do it, you’re being efficient, but when he does it, he’s considered an asshole. He thinks it’s because you’re pretty, and therefore, you can get away with everything. He’s pretty sure that if he put on a blazer, he’d get more praise for his efficiency, too.
(In all actuality, people think you’re a bitch, too. He just has a habit of thinking everyone else is singing praises to you, like he does.)
He can’t confess now. Not when the only source of light is a dirty streetlamp and not the glow of the full moon. Not when he’s just got done being the butt of the joke for his teammates the whole entire night. Not when this is quite possibly the most unromantic location known to man because he’s pretty sure there’s a homeless guy staring at the two of you (or, more specifically, Atsumu’s to-go box).
You’re looking at him expectantly, and he swallows hard. He doesn’t say the right thing a lot, you know? Every time he opens up his mouth at a sports conference or during an interview, he knows either his teammates or his family or his fans and enemies alike are going to absolutely rip him to shreds. Verbally inept, he thinks that’s what it’s called, that that’s what he is.
He wants to say: he likes you, with or without the blazer. He thinks your jokes are funny, even when all your calculations and observations fail you and it ends up being misunderstood — that he thinks they’re especially funny when that happens. You’re pretty even after clocking out from a fourteen hour workday. You make him want to make metaphors about you, and write poems, and other dorky, romantic shit that he certainly can’t do — but he wants to, and shouldn’t that count for something at least?
“You’re right, it should count for something, at least.” You’re nodding, with a smile on your face that isn’t just for clients, that isn’t just for whenever his teammates get a laugh out of you — it’s a smile that you reserve especially for him. (He knows this because he’s seen you smile at other people before, and you don’t ever show your teeth around them.)
Oh. So. Looks like he said it out loud. He wonders if you can see the blush that’s creeping up from his neck to behind his ears to the apples of his cheeks. He probably looks very, very stupid right now. Even more stupid than when he fucking gawked at you and said you were a lawyer; definitely more stupid than whenever he had ketchup on his jersey.
But you’re still smiling at him, and he thinks that maybe, you might like very, very stupid.
“So?” You cock an eyebrow. Every conversation is like a chess game with you. Sometimes, he can’t tell if you’re on the offense or defense, which makes it incredibly hard to know how best to talk to you.
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re very intense.”
“What else d’you think?” You’re not running away, which is a good sign (to him). He’s starting to think that you are surprisingly softer than you let on, if the way you can’t stop smiling is any indication. It’s enough to give him a burst of confidence.
“[Name].” He’s going to do it. He’s going to finally confess, and—
“I like you. As more than a friend.” You beat him to the punch, and he knows that you’ve been planning this out all along. He knows that you added in the clarifying phrase of more than a friend because he would have automatically jumped to the conclusion that there’s no possible way you could possibly feel the same way he does for you, and he can’t even be annoyed at you for stealing his spotlight, for confessing first, because he likes the way it sounds. The way you say his name, the way you confess to him in a slower speed than your normal talking one, as if you want to savor the sentence.
“Okay.” He says it with a smile on his face, the fattest fucking grin plastered on his features ‘til he feels like he’s a caricature of happiness. That okay of yours that he’s been holding onto is finally being handed back to its rightful owner, and for once in his life, Atsumu Miya thinks that maybe he is capable of saying the right thing sometimes.
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sending a character + word
Iwa + secret
🍓 iwaizumi + secret
iwaizumi's not really a dishonest guy.
he doesn't like conflict, would prefer to resolve things as peacefully and directly as possible, and considers his way of life rather straightforward. simple, even.
but sometimes, he does think he treads the line between "morally correct" and "morally grey" quite lightly.
well... lying isn't always bad, right? especially when no one's getting hurt. besides, omitting the truth doesn't really count as lying. (usually.)
thus, by definition, he's not exactly lying to his friends.
iwaizumi tries not to think about it — he has more important things to focus on, like the way your lips are pressing against his, slightly parted while his tongue moves, hot and heavy against yours. he likes the way your fingers feel while they run through his hair, both of your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close while his body traps yours against the fence at the edge of the school's campus.
so this is what you two do during your lunch breaks. how scandalous.
"hey," you murmur, breaking the kiss as iwaizumi's eyelids flutter open at the loss of contact, his lips slightly puffy and flushed around the edges. "you... like me, right?"
he looks confused.
"of course," iwaizumi says earnestly with a gulp that he can't help. "don't think i'd be making out with you here if i didn't."
his blunt (and somewhat ungraceful) answer brings a laugh out of you.
"so why haven't you introduced me to your friends yet?" you ask, bottom lip jutting out ever-so-slightly.
iwaizumi's shoulders relax.
"i can if you want me to," he says with a small grin, and presses another light peck to the corner of your mouth. "but i probably won't get any peace and quiet for another century or so if i did."
"what do you mean?"
"well, oikawa's annoying and will probably whine about how he's suddenly extra lonely now that i've got you," iwaizumi ponders, resting a hand beside your head on the fence. you can still taste his breath on your tongue. "matsukawa is gonna wanna know everything about you, and hanamaki... he'll probably pester you about setting him up with any cute friends you've got."
"they sound fun," you laugh. the reassurance settles through your body at his answer — you didn't think it'd be so... simple.
"they are," iwaizumi agrees. "just annoying too, sometimes."
he leans in close, and the sun-kissed hand beside your head travels back down to the nape of your neck, causing the tiny hairs to stand up.
"i can't lie though," he murmurs, twinkling eyes flitting down to your lips once more. "i kinda like keeping you as my own little secret."
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Draco saw Granger reaching for a book on a high shelf. He wasn’t even sure which book it was but he was taller and he could easily grab it first. And he just couldn’t resist pushing her buttons when she made it so easy. They nearly got thrown out of the library for their fighting but Granger managed to snatch the book from him, or at least, he’d let her think so. She didn’t have to know he let it go on purpose. But after staring at her reading it across the great hall for days, smiling to herself and showing interesting paragraphs to the other gryffindors, Draco decided he was actually curious enough to want to read it too. So when Granger went back to the library to return her book, she had it snatched out her hands yet again, by the same lovesick slytherin.
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A/N: Shaun, pre Shang-Chi discovery.
Pairing: Shang-Chi x Reader
Warnings: Swears, mischief, body-slamming
Summary: You decided to scare the shit out your boyfriend. It backfires. Badly. Fluffy drabble-y thing, I think?
This was it. You were going to fucking get him.
Look, you loved your boyfriend very much, but sometimes, Shaun was a total annoying piece of shit. He was absolutely adorable. He held doors open for you, surprised you with your favorite beverage, smothered you in kisses when work or school made you want to flip a table like the Hulk. But, sometimes, he was just such a piece of shit.
He was so mischevious! The man was a jokester. Whether it was making you look somewhere so he could tickle you, moving your coffee mug just a little too far to the left to totally mess with you and throw you off, or screaming in the middle of a scary movie to scary you. He was a piece of shit, an adorable piece of shit, and you needed to get your revenge.
The last few times you tried to get him had failed. It seemed like he always knew when to expect you. Part of you wondered how he just seemed to be so damn alert all of the time. Did this man have a sixth sense?
Regardless, now was your time to shine. You purposely told him you couldn’t hang out with him and Katy because you were going out with your other friends, which you did! However, you left early so you could go home and scare him when he least expected it because you made sure to say you’d be getting home later. You hid in the bathroom, the door cracked open the exact way he had left it when he left the apartment evening.
It was a waiting game, but when Shaun finally returned, you nearly lost your cool and giggled in excitement. As he approached the bed and started taking off his clothes, you quickly threw open the door, jumped out, and threw your arms out to grab his shoulders as you screamed at him behind his back.
What you didn’t expect was for him to grab your arm and flip you over him with so much force that you slammed into the ground like Hulk smashing Loki. Was this what death felt like? Were your ribs now shattered? Did your spleen explode?
To top it off, it didn’t stop there. After he had flipped you, he twisted your arm and had raised his fist to punch you in the face. “Who -- oh, shit!”
“Ow!” You whined.
“Oh my god. (Y/N) I am so sorry! Why did you do that?”
“Me do that? I just wanted to scare you!” You shouted, “And now I’m DEAD! I’m dead, Shaun. You’ve killed me.”
“I am so, so, so sorry,” He apologized profusely as he picked you up and quickly put you in bed. “Are you hurt? I mean --”
“Am I hurt?!” You squealed, “What do you think? Ow, dude! When did you learn to do that? My god, are you some freaking assassin, or ninja, or power ranger, or something?!”
He laughed nervously as he shook his head profusely, “No, no. I swear, just a few things I learned as a kid to defend myself, you know?”
“I know you got bullied for your English but good lord, man. I never realized it was that bad that you had to destroy their spinal cords and try to make their insides explode.”
He cringed and returned from the kitchen with an ice pack and held it to your back, “Again, sweetheart, I am so, so sorry.”He muttered as he peppered your face in little kisses everywhere. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know,” You muttered in defeat, holding the ice pack to your body. “Since you tried to kill me, does this mean I successfully scared you?”
He stared at you like you were the crazy person before he chuckled and shook his head, “Yeah, babe. You got me. You won this one.”
Rather smugly, you smirked, “Of course I did. But, ow, gosh. I’m in so much pain. You really should take care of me. I think some snuggles are in order.”
Grinning, he kicked off the rest of his clothes and climbed into bed next to you, pulling you as close as he humanly could against his chest.
“But, uh, just don’t do that again, okay?” He said after a quiet moment. “I really, really don’t want to ever hurt you again.”
“Oh, fuck no. Lesson learned, now I know those muscles aren’t just for show.”
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PROMPT | Malleus comforting You after Ramshackle gets destroyed.
proofread and edited by theraedar
Not only are you devastated but you are completely grieving. It all began when you found Grim after he had consumed that strange black rock. Unable to reach him as he turned feral and disappeared, you couldn’t help but worry. After all, he is now someone you’d consider a close friend since being in Twisted Wonderland for about a year. Your concern only deepened when he suddenly appeared captured by STYX only to be taken away before you with Vil and Jamil. You were left in the shambles of what you called home as the feeling of loneliness sank past your heart and deep into your stomach.
Malleus found you sitting outside of your ruined home on his evening walk late after the meeting with the others. He couldn’t help but notice that you were not usual yourself. Usually, you would notice the fireflies that greeted you before Malleus followed shortly after, but this time you didn’t. You sat there staring at the ground, deep in thought, with nowhere to go for the night. You couldn’t help but think about Grim and the others. You were on the brink of breaking down.
“What is the matter, Child of Man. Usually, you would have greeted me by now”
“T-Tsunotarou! You scared me.”
At first, you were hesitant about telling him what was on your mind. You didn’t want to bother the next heir to the Valley of Thorns with such trivial matters. But the knot in your throat and the tears peeking out from your eyes say otherwise. As one escapes, you quickly wipe it away so as not to raise any worries. But fail.
Malleus sits down next to you. “Do you wish to speak about what is troubling you, human child?” Receiving the permission to pour your heart out made your eyes pour your tears out instead. You couldn’t hold it in anymore even if you wanted to hold it in forever. Malleus conjures up his handkerchief and offers it to you.
“I’m- I’m just so stressed. I don’t know where STYX has taken Grim, and I’m so worried!” You continue to explain to Malleus how everything that had happened these past few days had been weighing on your shoulders and mind. You only wished for your friends to return safely. Not only that, but for Grim to continue attending Night Raven College as well, regardless of what Director Crowley had said.
You suddenly feel a hand pat your head. You had to turn your head to see for yourself that the hand belonged to Malleus. “Everything will be fine, human child. I assure you, once everything is figured out and we find Grim and the others, everything will return to what they once were. Do not weep anymore. Everything will be okay. Let’s go find a place for you to stay in the meantime. Shall the Diasomnia dormitory work for you? I can request Sebek and Silver to see to your accommodations if need be .”
You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. You could tell he wasn’t sure what to offer in this matter. This was your first time crying in front of the Great Prince of Thorns. He was probably confused, but you knew he did his best to comfort you.
“Of course.” You smiled. “Thank you, Malleus.”
His ears perked up. That was the first time he had heard his name in your voice. He couldn’t help but smile a bit. His name sounded soft and sweet as it fell from your lips. “You’re welcome, child of man.”
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Imagine Your OTP #309
Person A and B spending the day with B's family, going out for lunch and participating in some fun family-friendly activities together. A has never had a good relationship with their parents, but the more they get to know B's, the more they feel at home again.
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Hii!! I apologize if they're already closed, but for the 999 event 👁️ with Lucifer and MC ? Thank you!
"My imperfections scare you, I can see it in your eyes." - Lucifer/MC
content warning: blood mention
You stand now in the House of Lamentation’s garden, leafless branches twisting high into the air around you like claws trying to tear at the dark sky and spill its ink to the world below. You are alone, you think, or as alone as one can be as you have long since learned that the gravestones in the front yard are not simply for display. Goosebumps rise along your skin as you realize that it has suddenly become eerily quiet -- no wisps of winds, no calls of crows nor ravens, no croaks of bufo toads or hisses of other nightmarish creatures lurking in the shadows. All has come to a still, the only sound now the beating of your heart drumming in your ears.
Slowly, you begin to walk, though you’re not sure if it's even of your own accord. Your body moves, and you follow, until you find yourself on a path that you do not remember. Something moves in the distance amongst the trees, piquing your curiosity however foolishly. So you continue, the path soon opening into a small clearing and your breath hitches in your throat as you find yourself looking upon a magnificent yet unsettling sight.
Four immense feathered wings stretch out under the moonlight, their color so deep it is as if the fabric of reality is being torn apart to reveal a void underneath as light is swallowed whole. A familiar curve of horns, though much grander than you had seen before as they sit like warped spires upon a crown of raven locks. Another step forward, and a branch beneath your foot snaps -- causing the being before you to straighten his back, blinking crimson now evident across exposed skin as he turns to reveal his visage.
“MC,” His voice is even deeper than usual, blanketing you in a warmth akin to that which you would feel from fresh blood spilling from a wound. “I figured you’d be here sooner or later.” It’s heavy, almost as if you’re hearing his voice as pressure on your chest and a squeeze around your neck.
“How did you -- “ You begin to question.
“I simply knew.” He answers, and you can see the way his fangs have grown longer, sharper. Of course he knew, just as he always knew. The diamond onyx that usually rests on his forehead now reveals another eye, though something about this one seems to lure you in, hypnotizing you. Crimson on black, just as his usual pair of eyes now looked, just as the many others that littered his form. All focused on you, piercing through your soul.
The claws of one hand begin to reach out to you, but he stops. A hesitation, a rare falter in confidence from the Avatar of Pride.
“My imperfections scare you, I can see it in your eyes.”
“No, Lucifer.” Your voice is quiet, but it does not waver. Gazing up at him, you can see the soft adoration he has of you even now in his frightening features. You approach slowly, gently placing a hand on one of the claws which is nearly the length of one of your legs. How minuscule you are in comparison to this grand form, a reminder of your human mortality as you face a god. “Where you see imperfections, I see only sanctity.”
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nsfw 2 & 5 with Spencer
2. "You taste like apple cider” 5. Fire pit fondling
Pairing: (somwhat) sub!Spencer x gn!reader
Warnings: (aluded) autistic spencer. grinding on each other through clothes. not exactly fondling lol but.....
You and Spencer had decided to spend your night outside while everyone was eating dinner inside. Rossi invited the team over for a dinner shortly before Thanksgiving, but by the end of it, Spencer was starting to get tired and overstimulated, so you two excused yourselves in order to go sit outside in the backyard where Rossi had the most amazing electric fire pit. All you had to do was flip a switch and suddenly you two were warm as could be. Spencer was sitting in one of the nice lawn chairs, and when you went to sit in one next to him, he caught you by the waist and pulled you onto his lap. You chuckled and kissed him lightly.
"You taste like apple cider," he whispered against your lips.
"Oh, yeah?" You smiled and kissed him again, this time letting your tongues fight for dominance, which he forfeited as soon as you rolled your hips over his, forcing him to let out a quiet moan. "Shhh..." You let your hands wander down his chest. "Just relax." You continued to grind on top of his clothes as he got hard under you. "Good boy."
He whimpered as he tasted your lips again. "You're being mean."
"How am I being mean when all I'm doing is making you feel good?"
"You're gonna make me cum, that's why."
"Why's that a bad thing, baby?"
"Because then everyone will know."
You smirked as you went faster, encouraging his orgasm to come sooner. "Good."
He shivered under you as he came in his pants. "Shit."
You kissed him again. "Good boy."
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[5:35 AM] - ARTEM WING
18 hours. You have been in the office for 18 fucking hours, and at this point if you look at your keyboard for any longer you’re pretty sure you’ll become permanently cross-eyed. So, slowly standing up, hearing the cracks in your back as you stretch, you amble your way over to the coffee machine.
Just as you reach it, you can hear a door softly open, and watch as Artem strolls out of his office. You quickly brighten up, waving tiredly over to him as you lean against the counter. “Hey Artem, what brings you out of the office.” He smiles at you, turning to open a cupboard to reach for two mugs, and your heart swims with silent fondness as he sets a mug down for you to pick up.
Many wouldn’t believe the youngest senior attorney was exhausted, or even that he was capable of exhaustion, but you noticed the miniscule eye bags and undone tie like huge red signs pointing to how tired he truly was.
“I just wanted to get a cup of coffee is all.” Your brow furrows as you remember the pristine coffee machine in the corner of his office. “Did your coffee machine break, Artem? You know you could always tell Christine and I’m sure she would get a replacement for you.” His eyes seem to widen as he glances at you again, coughing into his hand as the tips of his ears turn crimson. “My machine is perfectly fine, I simply like the coffee this machine makes better.”
You cast a side glance to the coffee machine in the break room. A hunk of metal that you sometimes hesitate to call a coffee machine given the…. “Coffee” that sometimes pours out on rougher days. You raise an eyebrow. “There’s nothing like sludge to get you through overtime, isn't that right Mr. Wing?” Your eyes crinkle with mirth at the way his throat stutters when he quickly grabs his cup and turns back around to face the coffee maker.
As you lightly chuckle and turn to begin to make your own coffee you hear your name called, echoing in the empty law firm. “I… I don’t like the coffee.” You laugh openly now, smiling at the guilty look on his face. “I could’ve guessed that from the look on your face every time you taste it.” Artem seems to suddenly find the machine fascinating, refusing to look at you in favor of fiddling with the settings splayed across the top.
You assume the conversation is over as you chuckle softly and turn away, but Artem’s voice, wrought with all the softness you can imagine, causes you to pause. “It allows me to see you more.” He says it with such a hesitation, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard Artem this unsure.
The blood rushing through your ears doesn’t allow you to answer him, and the silence that follows is deafeningly loud. He turns to face you awkwardly, clutching the mug in his hands. “I’m sorry. That was inapprop-” the feeling of horror at the realization he was going to take it back loosens your own lips.
“I like seeing you too!” Shock spreads across both of your faces as the words are blurted out of your traitorous mouth, and he quickly raises one hand to cover his own face, coughing into it as you spot the red peeking out from underneath his fingers, matching the red spread across your own face.
“Ah. I see. Well then I am glad.” As he begins to walk back into his own office you manage to compose yourself enough to finally speak again. “You don’t have to drink that anymore. You can come visit me anytime.”
The thought of Artem leaving his office just to see you still sends your heart careening through your ribcage, but you can at least get the words to leave your throat and rest in the air. He smiles as he opens the door to return to maddening case files and paperwork, and when you leave the office two hours later, you still cannot get the words out of your mind.
“You are worth it.”
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Hi, may I request Childe or Kaeya and 🫂(hug) for emoji prompt requests? Gn reader, thank you!
pairing: childe x reader
warnings: tartaglia being a cheeky bastard
word count: 500+
fandom: genshin impact
You’ve been rushing around for so long that you were starting to feel dizzy. Hu Tao, your boss at the funeral parlour, had sent you out to run errands for her. Normally she’d send Zhongli but he wasn’t very responsible when it came to purchasing things from Liyue’s merchants. So instead it was you chosen to buy a few things needed for an upcoming funeral.
Exhausted and nearly out of breath, you were entirely focused on finishing your duties. Because of how frantic you were, you hadn’t been watching your surroundings properly. That’s how you bumped into him. Or rather… how you ran right into him.
It doesn’t hit you that your face has come in contact with someone’s chest until hands land on your hips. “Woah there, someone’s in a rush” a familiar voice chuckles, causing you to look up and meet a pair of deep blue eyes.
As your face grows hot, Childe flashes you that boyish grin of his. You knew all too well who this young man was. He often came by the funeral parlour to see Zhongli and during these visits he had a habit of flirting with you. So you could imagine how flustered you were when you realized you accidentally embraced him.
“I-I am so sorry” you apologetically stutter, attempting to pull away but Childe holds you in place.
“Why do eager to leave? Stay like this for a moment. It feels nice being able to hug you like this” he says, tugging you even closer to him somehow. With no escape you’re forced to remain in this position. You prayed he couldn’t feel your heart loudly pounding in your chest but chances were he could. “You smell really nice,” Childe compliments.
Whining in embarrassment, you hurt your face back into his chest so he couldn’t see the look on your face. Childe only finds this to be even more adorable and you can tell by the laugh that falls from his lips.
It’s not that you’re not enjoying this deep down. Childe smells good too. Although, it’s hard to determine his scent. His body is also the perfect temperature. Not too hot, not too cold. On top of all that you feel oddly safe with his arms around you. Despite all the stories you heard that painted Childe out to be dangerous, there was no one you’d rather hug you this way.
Unfortunately this couldn’t last forever. Eventually you have to mumble into Childe’s shirt. “I-I really do have to be on my way. I still have a lot of places I need to go. Hu Tao gave me a long to-do list”.
“Well in that case, let me join you” Childe suggests, finally releasing you from his grasp. “I have nothing else I have to do today. I’d really like to spend my day off with you”.
Now how could you possibly refuse him. With your lips quivering up into a shy smile, you accept his company. “I… I think I’d like that”.
masterlist | buy the author a coffee
tags: @curlyhairedblueeyedangel / @thingsforimagination / @zeldafreak688 / @natasha-danvers / @xxxtwilightaxelxxx / @simonsbluee / @ravenmoore14 / @rabeccablake / @czarinera / @crapimahuman / @tvwhoresblog / @mangoessassafras / @styxiasstuff / @nnmesis / @lise-mariebutfriendscallmelisa / @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw / @leighbechilling / @simp-lauren / @aprilfire18 / @inu1gf / @jahnvi-d
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chameron royal au
ahaha so.... this was meant to be only a drabble for @anderperryshit (thank you so much for inspiring this and sorry it took so long!!!) but um... one thing lead to another and now this is very long. sorry. i got wayyyy too into this.
tagging some people to bask in this monster with me :’): @maisietheweltoncow @neil-perry-is-alive @justarandompjofan @propaganda-for-poets @aedan-mills @duh-itsalampmeeks
just a heads up, this chapter has a l o t of swearing. please don’t ask why. i don’t know. oh! and background anderperry and noelbury because im weak.
The sky was blue, the sun was hot and Charlie Dalton hated dinner parties.
These we're all well known facts, indisputable by anyone who knew the jazz enthusiast. If Charlie had the choice, he'd never see another one of those hideous table cloths or hear bassoon song they play at these things, but because God wanted to punish him, here he was, bored and sweaty and alone.
Well, alone wasn't the right word exactly. He was here with his parents and he knew some of his friends were around here somewhere but these parties were just a chance for kingdoms to save face and be seen with their allies so he had a strict fifteen minute rule to speaking with people before they had to move on. His fifteen minutes with Neil had been used half an hour ago and he hadn't seen him since.
The life of royalty was much like chess, Charlie thought. It's all calculated steps and throwing everyone else away to save your king. Sometimes he wondered how easy it would be to just run away. He could board a boat and sail to wherever it took him. Lead his life as a pirate maybe.
He smiled a little at the thought but knew it was futile. Boys like Charlie had to learn their upper class etiquette and, eventually, become king, stuck to the thrown until death. Instead of adventures, he got house rules.
He was awoken from his thoughts by a firm hand on his shoulder. "Charles, I think you should go dance with the Cameron boy." A frown morphed on Charlie's face as he turned around to face his parents.
"Richard? No." He pouted. He saw his father sigh, exasperated.
"Don't you think it's time you two put this feud of yours behind you? The Camerons are the closest allies we have besides the Perrys. One day, when you take over the kingdom, you're going to need to work with Richard so you might as well get along now, especially because of the feud. You can’t let this kingdom fall." His mother said. Charlie scoffed, but the pressure still weighed heavy on his shoulders. He defected with theatrics.
"Work with Richard Cameron? Over my dead body." Sometimes he wished they weren't close with the Camerons so he wouldn't have to deal with their stuck up son. Or better yet, he wished they had at least another child, maybe one without a stick up their ass-
"Charles. I'm done arguing with you. Get over there and dance." His father said sternly. He looked over to his mother only to see her shrug and sip on her champagne. Traitor.
Still, he gave off one more groan, the last of his protests, swallowed his pride and stalked his way over to the three red-heads across the hall.
Mr Cameron looked sharp as a hawk as he watched all the people around the hall, no doubt planning his next move. Mrs Cameron was chatting idly with a blonde haired woman who he recognised as Chris' mother. And finally, the spawn of Satan himself, Richard Cameron, was standing a little bit in front of his parents, hands in the pockets of his dress pants so primly it made Charlie mad.
Richard was wearing a dark suit with a red vest underneath, complimenting his pale skin perfectly. He had this faraway look in his eyes Charlie was happy to disrupt.
"Oh, my dear Richie," he said dramatically, making Cameron jump a little, "would you give me the pleasure of this dance?" He held his hand out and put on the fakest sincere look he could muster (one only Richard would be able to spot).
Cameron's face twisted up. If they weren't in a room full of influential adults, he knew he would tell him to fuck off in that voice that made Charlie heat up (angrily, of course). But alas, here they were.
Before Cameron could say anything at all, his father coughed loudly behind him and he saw Richard take a deep breath (it was becoming an effort to hide his grin now). "Yes, Charles. I would love to." He said with a strained smile as he took Charlie's hand.
Charlie led him out to the dance floor and transitioned into a waltz with Cameron smoothly as if they were lovers.
"If you call me Richie again, I'm going to stab you." Cameron said in a cheery voice while smiling sweetly. If anyone was watching them right now, they wouldn't suspect a thing. Charlie laughed loudly, acting as if Cameron had just told the most hilarious joke in the world. That’s all these things were really, an act.
"If you call me Charles again, I'm going to stab you." He said, matching Cameron's cheer.
"Well, that's your name, isn't it?" Cameron was grinning so wide, it looked like it hurt. Naturally, Charlie 'accidentally' stepped on his foot causing Cameron to wince. "You fucker."
"You love me." Charlie winked. Cameron pretended to retch which made him snicker.
As they danced, Charlie looked over to his right to see Chris and Ginny dancing in a similar waltz although their foreheads were touching and they looked so in love.
A while ago, the Noels tried to force a marriage between Chet and Chris to form an inseparable alliance between their kingdoms. To everyone’s surprise, however, Chris ended up falling head over heels for Chet's younger sister, Ginny. Luckily for them, Ginny was still a Danbury so their family was happy with the arrangement and they now had a wedding planned for autumn.
It was bittersweet to Charlie. Chris and Ginny were a perfect match, even Charlie could see it and he was glad they could be open with their love and get married freely. Some people weren't so lucky.
Charlie caught Ginny's eye as they danced and she flashed him a stunning grin. Cameron? She mouthed to him and he gagged. Ginny just rolled her eyes and continued dancing with her fiancèe.
"You really hate me that much, huh?" Cameron was a little more perceptive than Charlie took him to be. The way Cameron was looking at him right now made him feel flushed. That scared him.
"Of course I do! The only reason any of us hang out with you is because of the stupid alliance." He blurted out without thinking. It sounded too harsh to pass as a playful jab, even Charlie knew that. The look that Cameron gave him immediately made a wave of guilt crash over him. Before he could say anything, Cameron's face hardened.
"Fuck you, Dalton." He spat out and tore himself away from Charlie. Cameron bolted across the ballroom and out the door, into the hallway.
"Cameron! Wait..." He said, but it was too late. He was gone. As he stood and felt helpless on the dance floor, a harsh voice whispered from behind him.
"Charles Dalton," he turned. It was his father looking red in the face. "what the hell have you done? Do you know how this looked right now? What will the board say about this! We need to be a united front with the Camer-"
"Jesus Christ, stop making this all about you!" He interrupted and dashed out the way Richard had, needing to get out of that fucking room.
The hallway was was cold and his steps echoed in the hollow room, reminding him of his mistake. He leaned up against a wall and put his face in his hands, the guilt now making a home in his heart.
Idiot. You fucking idiot.
Here's the thing, Charles Dalton didn't really hate Richard Cameron. In his house, love was treated as a weakness instead of a strength. He was constantly told he'd have to marry whoever would strengthen the kingdom, something he'd have seldom choice in.
Charlie feared love. He feared vulnerability. Loving someone meant giving over your heart to the other person completely and they were free to do what they choose with it. Charlie figured it was just easier to hold all his cards close to his chest.
But then there was Richard Cameron, the stunning enigma he was. Cameron with the fiery red hair and flaming hot temper. Cameron who was the only one who could match Charlie with his quick wit. Beautiful, handsome, alluring Cameron who set his heart on fire in a way that simultaneously frightened him and made him feel so, so alive.
A burst of realisation suddenly hit him; he had to go find Cameron.
Taking a deep breath, Charlie set of down the hall in search of the red-head.
After a while of walking, Charlie came across a door which had some noises coming out of it. Thinking it was Richard, Charlie pushed open the door. "Cameron?" His face soon scrunched in disgust.
Neil and Todd (who had been furiously making out against a wall two seconds ago) broke apart in shock at the door opening and looked over to Charlie.
"C-Charlie!" Todd stammered.
"What the fuck. A closet? Really?" He deadpanned. Neil massaged his brow, slightly less flustered than his blonde counterpart.
"This is all we have, Charlie. You know we can't be seen together." Charlie frowned.
"You could've at least locked the door. What if someone who wasn't me walked in and caught you guys? It would all be over." He said seriously.
"Don't act like you haven't had a secret make out session with anyone. I guess we just got carried away." Neil grinned and leaned towards Todd, making him giggle. Charlie didn't find it very funny knowing what could happen to them.
Neil and Todd were on opposite sides with the harshest stakes of a ruthless feud lead by Thomas Perry and Phillip Anderson. The Daltons, Danburys, Noels and Camerons were all sided with the Perrys, and the Meeks', Overstreets, Pitts' and Stickwells sided with the Andersons.
This feud stemmed from hatred and jealousy by their fathers who were ruthless and would stop at nothing to win. They bred malice and selfishness like a disease. Their sons, realizing the effect of their fathers’ actions and not sharing in their misguided views, did not. When Neil Perry and Todd Anderson met at a party much like this one six months ago, they clicked. It was love at first sight.
Charlie will never forget the way their eyes locked when they accidentally knocked into each other by the snack table or how Neil had gushed to him and Ginny over the past few months over how incredible Todd was once they'd started sneaking out to see each other.
They were perfect for each other in every way. If only everyone else could see that. Their love would either end the feud or get them disowned or, more frighteningly, killed.
"Uh, hello, I'm still here assholes." He waved his hands around to grab their attention. Neil sighed.
"What do you want?"
"Have you seen Cameron anywhere? We were dancing and then he ran off." Todd just shook his head.
"We've been in this closet for a while. Neither of us have seen him since the beginning of the party." Neil said before looking puzzled. "What do you want with Cameron? I thought you hated him." Charlie felt blush creep over his face and he looked at his shoes.
"I don't- it doesn't matter okay? I just need to find him."
"Well, we haven't seen him. Sorry, Charlie."
"It's okay. I'll just keep looking I guess."
"I hope you find him." Todd said gently. Charlie smiled at him.
"I will." He turned to leave the room but turned back at the last second. "Next time, just lock the door. Please?" Neil gave him a little salute.
"We will. Thanks, Charlie." Todd said, smiling and giving him a little wave.
Charlie closed and locked the door on his way out and was barely three steps away when he heard an elated 'Neil!' coming from behind the door. He just shook his head and muttered under his breath; "horny bastards"
After walking around the castle and checking countless rooms in hopes of finding Richard, Charlie came across a balcony looking over the kingdom with a familiar figure leaning on the railing with his forearms and looking at the view.
He didn't say anything, just stood next to the figure and copied his posture. If Cameron was surprised to see him, he certainly didn't show it.
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be back at the party doing damage control?" The part that shocked Charlie was that he didn't sound angry, just tired. Remorse stung sharp in his gut.
"Look, Cameron, I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said-"
"Stop! Just stop it!" He expected anger, but this rage was more ferocious than he foresaw. Richard got mad at him a lot but he's never been this angry before. Cameron whirled around to face him, fuming. "You're not sorry! You don't care! The only reason you're here right now is because we're supposed to be allies!" He spat out the word allies like it was poison in his mouth.
Charlie was stunned still. All he could do was stare at the boy. Cameron, fed up with Charlie's bullshit moved to the door. "Just forget it."
"Cameron, wait." He grabbed Cameron's arm and spun him around. "Just wait, please." He said desperately.
"Why, Charlie? What can you possibly tell me?" His face was almost as red as his hair at this point and he was ready to explode.
"I didn't mean it. I'm just..." He trailed off, bouncing his foot and looking at the navy sky. He couldn't see Cam's face right now, he just couldn't.
"You just what? I know you don't like me, I know that and m-maybe you're right, y'know? Maybe I'm too fucking uptight to be around-" He stammered, the words coming out frantic and shaking with fury and insecurity.
"Stop. Cameron, stop!" He turned back to him now to see Cameron holding his arms around himself. "Cameron. You're- you're great okay?" He ran his fingers through his hair and began pacing. "I lied. We like having you around. I like having you around. I just said that because..."
"Because what?" Cameron's irritated voice raised the tension another peg. He stayed silent. The words glued themselves to his throat and refused to leave. "What, Charlie? Just fucking tell me because I'm so sick of this-"
"Because I'm into you, okay?" He yelled out, whirling around to see Cameron's shocked face. No one said anything for a moment. Feeling anxious, Charlie filled the space by rambling. "And that shit scares me, alright? You- you scare me because no one else has ever made me feel like this before and I'm so- so fucking terrified because all I want to do is kiss you but I'm of what that will mean or how the kingdoms will react or that I'll be a really shitty boyfriend and-"
In the heat of the moment, Charlie had squeezed his eyes shut and was surprised to feel a warm and on his chest. "Charlie." A voice said softly. His voice said softly. "Charlie, look at me." The hand moved to cup his face, it was warm and so full of life. Charlie felt his heart light up at the touch. "Please?"
He wearily opened his eyes to see Cameron looking at him intensely. He shivered under the gaze. "You promise you're not joking, right now? Or that this isn't some alliance shit?" He said, quietly. Charlie felt it too. It was almost as if talking too loud would shatter what they had right now.
"It's not. I promise you." He whispered, not daring to say much more. Cameron searched his eyes, looking one last time for any sign of a trick. Once he established Charlie was being genuine, he whispered:
"Charlie, can I kiss you?" Not trusting himself to speak, he only nodded.
Before he knew what happened, Cameron captures his lips in a kiss, other hand moving to hold his face. Charlie had kissed many, many times before but for some reason, this time he forgot. He was too preoccupied with the way his breath caught and how good Cameron’s hands on him were. Luckily, he was able to awaken from his spell and wind his arms around Cameron’s waist.
Despite the heated feelings and harsh words from earlier, the kiss was surprisingly gentle, like a cool summer wind. It was much like the waltz from earlier, after Charlie regained his head, they kissed smoothly and effortlessly, as though they had done it a thousand times before. His body however, his body was on fire, a roaring flame that threatened to overtake him. Cameron’s touch burned and he never wanted it to stop.
Cameron was his ride or die. Acting on romantic feelings wouldn’t stop Cameron from being uptight, or Charlie being reckless. It wouldn’t stop the prying eyes of the other kingdoms or their parents if they had other plans for their marriages down the line. They could either go down as a masterpiece or up in flames.
But the thing was, they wanted to take the chance.
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