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luna-misera · 7 months

Note

okay okay i promise this is the last general hcs. copia x reader general headcanons please?🥺

First of all, my apologies for the delay! I hope I didn't keep you wanting for too long~

Copia x Reader HCs

Warning(s): None

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• Copia is a loveable dork. At first a relationship with him might be a little awkward, and you'll definitely have to be the one to initiate things.

• He would have the biggest crush on you, but he wouldn't expect his feelings to be reciprocated. He's pathetic, but you like that about him.

• But once you light that fire, you can't put it out. Copia will be all yours and he is incredibly loyal, attentive, and caring.

• Copia can be a insecure and jealous at times. He wants to be certain that he is solely yours, and you are solely his.

• On top of that, he is incredibly touch starved and his love language is physical touch. He expresses his love through physical contact, and likes it to be reciprocated. So you can expect LOTS of touching.

• When someone holds his hand or hugs him it sends shivers down Copia's spine. He loves it.

• When he travels with the band he misses you a lot. You can't join him every tour, and he only trusts you to take care of his rats and other things around the Ministry while he's gone.

• Copia sends you texts as often as he can to keep you updated on how things are going, and he loves when you send him pictures of the rats while he is away.

• Every night before you go to bed he video calls you to say goodnight. Even if he is in a completely different time zone he insists upon it. Copia cannot stand being away from his "Tesoro prezioso," for so long.

• After being away from home for so long, his love language would have been thoroughly ignored and he would want to catch up on all the affection that he missed. So you can expect to be very busy. If you are comfortable with it that is.

• Copia strives to make sure you are happy. If you had had a hard day, or are feeling down about anything, he would offer you one of his rat babies to play with and cuddle. After that, he would make your comfort food for you, and hold you while you relax and talk it out.

• Like his older brothers, Copia struggles to tend to his own emotions and frequently bottles them up.

• When Copia is upset or having a bad day, he appreciates being cared for and cradled by you, and hearing you tell him how much you love and care for him. It comforts him to lay his head on your shoulder or in your lap while you play with his hair.

• Quality time is also important to him too. Copia enjoys making/listening to music, or playing video games together in the same space, and when the mood strikes, just simply enjoying each other's company as you in bed with each other and cuddle. Seriously, this man is so touch starved.

• When it comes to dates he enjoys taking you out to a quiet dinner, and afterwards a nice scenic stroll through a park or around the Ministry.

• Because he is so busy, he thrives on having a nice and relaxing evening with you at the end of the day.

#ghost band #ghost fandom #ghost band x reader #copia #copia x reader #hcs #papa emeritus iv #sfw #fluff

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sparkles-oflight · 7 months

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I wasn't going to post this. I saw everyone jumping on the "let me tell you my emotional connection to joker out" train and I wasn't going to participate because.....well....my annoying ass already said everything there needs to be said through tags on random posts (I should really learn how to shut my mouth).

But now it's 4 am (thank you Rosa Linn, I can't say that seriously ever again), I'm having trouble sleeping since I'm not fully recovered from my cold, so, fuck it.

I'll go on a rant so... I'll add the little thing that "divides" the post so that is easier to skip

Ah....where to start...I could tell you how I started enjoying joker out but that's a wholeass post on itself...

So, I'm going to start with how I connect to each member.

Bojan, you were the one who "opened the doors" to me. Frontman doing his service. In Bojan I saw a lot about myself. I saw a guy who loves to make bad puns, who loves languages and brag about their multicultural knowledge. I saw a guy who can be awkward at times, who deal with anxiety problems... Who says they'll stay away from Social media and then proceeds to post the most unhinged things. I saw someone who likes to understand societies as well (please be my tutor, I really need to pass sociology this is year) and likes to fight stereotypes.

Kris told us Bojan's parents can be a bit more judgy and without going into a lot of details, I'll say I also understand that so much (I didn't want to bring sexuality into this, but even if Bojan turns out to be straight, I still relate to all the pressure is parents must put on him just because he goes against "the norm" in the Balkans).

Kris...my bitch.

(Jk jk, I love him a lot).

How do I start?

Kris and I honestly have a lot of common too. The whole "bullying for falling at being one gender" thing hits so close. I don't talk about my gender much but I currently identify as a enby/gender fluid. However, for most of my life I was terrified of failing as a girl.

I remember coming home and asking my mom why was I different from the other girls (NOT IN THE WAY YOU ARE THINKING, PLS, I'M QUITE LITERALLY JUST NOT A GIRL 😅) and she would reply stuff like "Of course you are like the others, you have a vagina like them" - this sounds so bad and it made me feel so much worse because it didn't provide me with an answer at all to the bullying I endured. I had short hair, liked "boyish" things and so I was called a boy (+I got transphobic comments too ✌🏽😙). I was never as close with the girls because of it and boys would also exclude me from being too close to them. I was in the middle and I had to change my personality countless times to fit my assigned gender.

Now that I'm in university, I finally figured myself out and it's so refreshing waking up to see myself with short hair again, with more "genderless" clothes, having no problems with my little "moustachio" and being able to appreciate what I see in the mirror... learning to love myself.

Kris as we know him identifies as a man. He, however, also learned how to break the gender stigma (AND THAT OUTFIT IS A FUCKING STATEMENT) and learned that having confidence in himself is all that matters. No matter how long your hair is, no matter how you dance or sing, no matter the color of your pants. Be yourself and be proud of you are is really what matters!

Jan....I actually don't have a lot to say (I think I wasted most my words with Kris), but just like Kris I also love how comfortable Jan feels in himself and how little he seems to care about what others think. I love his sense of humor and his style. I love his voice and how sometimes he can get a little embarrassed off-stage...I would just really love to have him as a best friend honestly. He probably zones out instead of listening, but oh well 😅

Naceeeeee, my teddy bear. I also don't have the energy to dive too deep in the topic, but as someone who also struggled with body image issues, I'm so proud whenever Nace feels comfortable on his own skin. It's refreshing.

But obviously I gotta mention that post. It's kinda funny to me that he wrote that when I'm currently writing a story for my script class about how it is to live with divorced parents and how the feeling of belonging is something we strive for.

It's something I definitely struggled with all my life and it's getting worse as time goes on. It's so refreshing to see another person go through and talk about it and seeing that they reached the happy ending I'm also looking for...

Jure le chatton. You know I don't usually talk much about you because we know nothing about your life. However, that interview where you said you asked your mom why you were problematic, hit me hard. For a lot of reasons I have mentioned before, but also because I'm considered problematic by both my parents. I don't want to get into many details... It's 4m after all.

There's one thing I was going to mention on Bojan's part, but I figured it would fit the whole band.

I really really am looking up to these guys. They are around my age and they have done so much already. I have been stuck in the past couple of years due to my depression - and realistically I never thought of actually turning 18, let alone 20 - and seeing how much they worked hard makes me want to work hard myself. I haven't been able to, but hopefully I will...

Also, everyday I have been waking up in a good mood knowing I have met some incredible people thanks to this fandom and the boys! Like, excuse people actually care about what I write, what???? 😅

It's been a great experience so far. Let's see what this will bring me in the future :)

#joker out #joker out bojan #joker out kris #joker out jan #joker out jure #joker out nace #bojan cvjetićanin #kris gustin #kris guštin #jan peteh #jure maček #nace jordan #random rant

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watercolor-hearts · 10 months

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Hi, are you still doing the ficlets because ao3 is down?

Would love anything lestappen. Hurt comfort or fluff

Hi dear,

Yeah, I'm still doing it because I need more time to write a story than I thought so the plan has become one story a day (if everything goes well). And now I'm here with yours. A little bit of ✨ p a i n ✨ for the Lestappies. *Cough* Ferrari *cough*. I hope you enjoy the story! 😊

Max/Charles • 1396 words • angst • crying • hugs • emotional hurt/comfort • cuddling • mentions of therapy • important conversation

“What are you thinking about, love?” Max asked, opening a can of Red Bull, when he saw Charles sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen, fully zoned out. Charles took a long, deep breath, making Max furrow his brows with concern.

“I'm just... Tired,” came the short reply instead of something longer and more detailed Max was preparing for. He left his Red Bull on the kitchen island and went to the other side of it and put his hands on Charles' shoulders.

“Maybe a massage can help,” Max offered, starting to work on Charles' muscles but his boyfriend shook his head and leaned further to put his elbows on the island and bury his face into his hands.

“It's n—I'm not physically tired,” he mumbled.

“Oh.”

“It's just... I don't even know.”

“You can of course talk to me about it, Charlie,” Max said while caressing his boyfriend's back. “I do not want you to hold back things because you think I do not care about them. I care about y—.”

“I'm tired of Ferrari,” Carles said, not letting Max finish his sentence. “I'm tired of being Il Predestinato and I'm tired of always fucking up and I'm tired of not having one single race where everything works and we win and I'm tired of always doing my best but never being good enough and I'm also tired of always just saying that the next year will be ours. No, it won't be. It hasn't been ours in the past God knows how many years either for fucks sake!” Carles raged, slapping the surface of the kitchen island with such a great force the sound made Max twitch. “Fucking shit,” Charles muttered under his breath, feeling his palm burn and tears filling his eyes.

“Hey, Charlie,” Max said, trying to get Charles' attention, “Baby, come here,” he guided Charles into a hug when he heard and saw that he was about to cry.

“Being titled as the Predestined was such an honor because everyone knows that I live and breathe Ferrari but... But it just doesn't work for us together,” Charles said between sobs, burying his face into Max's chest as his boyfriend was holding him close, caressing his back and kissing his hair. “Ferrari is my everything but I'm tired, I'm so fucking tired I can't do this anymore, I can't, Max. I'm tired of pretending that I can and want to continue this shitshow.”

“You can... You can stop pretending now,” Max murmured and Charles's body stiffened before the first loud sob appeared, making his body tremble. “It is of course good to let it out and it is okay to cry so you can cry. I will hold you and then we can talk about this.”

Max was familiar with Charles's struggles with Ferrari and its incompetence and he was surprised Charles was able to hold it together for years and not break down sooner. Max was impressed and worried at the same time because Ferrari wasn't a healthy environment anymore and Charles needed to go if he didn't want to suffer anymore. And now it wasn't just a joke anymore. It was serious.

“We can find another seat for you,” Max said when Charles's sobbing died down after a few minutes.

“What another seat, Max?” Charles asked in disbelief, wet sniffles showing that the worst part was over and he was about to calm down completely. “Lewis has just signed for another few years, and I—I don't want to be a second driver next to you. I want to race and—and I want to win and both of us in the same team is not a good idea.” Max nodded, thinking about what to say because Charles was right but Max still wanted to save him before Ferrari completely destroys him.

“We of course have to look at your options,” Max said, wiping Charles' tears off and then holding his face in his hand, “You are an amazing driver, talented, funny, and you have a lot of fans which is good for marketing and you are of course world champion material, Charles. Ferrari does not appreciate you and it is now time to take a step and leave them to their bullshit. I do not want them to destroy your mental health. I'm worried about you.”

“I don't—I don't know what options I have.”

“We should rest a bit and then sort your thoughts through to see how you feel when you are not distressed. Maybe a call with your therapist could also help.”

Charles nodded. “I need an appointment.”

“It is okay, love,” Max said, kissing Charles' forehead, “Make one, and then we can cuddle on the couch and you can sleep.”

“Y-yeah, okay,” Charles nodded, taking a deep breath before fishing his phone out of his pocket.

While Charles was on the phone, Max filled a glass of water for Charles and then drank the rest of his Red Bull.

“I got one for tomorrow. Video call.”

“Good,” Max smiled, handing the glass to Charles, “Now drink this because you need to hydrate.”

“Says the one that drinks more Red Bull than water.”

“That is not true!” Max protested, “Brad would kill me if I drank more Red Bull than water.”

“I'm joking, Chèri,” Charles smiled, tears making his eyes shine, and gave a quick kiss to Max before drinking the water and placing the glass on the counter.

“I know, love. Now let's go to the couch,” Max said, his hand sliding onto Charles's waist, guiding him to the living room.

When Max lay down on the couch, he pulled Charles on top of him. It took them a few seconds to find the most comfortable position but after that, it was just right; a pillow under Max's neck to support it, Charles lying on the top of him, his head on Max's chest, right over his softly thumping heart.

“Ferrari is my everything,” Charles whispered, “my heart, my soul.”

“I know, love,” Max said, softly, while massaging Charles's scalp to comfort him.

“I don't want to betray them. They gave me this opportunity, they believed in me enough to give me an eight-year contract, Max. This... This is not something you just throw away.”

“Charlie, I know how important Ferrari is for you but you're not the first driver that gets his carrier destroyed by them. I know Ferrari is one of the most important teams in Formula 1 and I of course know it has a history but it is also important to think about you, as an individual, because your mental health is important. If you are depressed you cannot perform as good as you could if you were mentally healthy. Is it worth being a Ferrari driver if your team lets you down almost every time and always just promises that the next year will be better and you feel like you cannot do this anymore?”

They both knew the answer but none of them said it.

“I want to bring Ferrari back to the top where they belong,” Charles started to draw shapes on Max's upper arm, “I can't just say ‘thanks I'm out I can't do this anymore’. They believe in me.”

“But they do not see themselves, Charles. They're a meme on the internet. This team has serious problems you can't solve, love. These problems are not because of you but they affect you. And now you are here, needing serious therapy. You have to think about yourself, Charles. You cannot always put the team before yourself. You have to be selfish for once.”

Charles shook his head and closed his eyes, hoping the tears won't find a way for themselves this way. He was wrong because in the next moment, a single teardrop was sliding down on his cheek, landing on Max's white T-shirt, and then it was followed by more. Max didn't say anything. He has already said more than enough, it was up to Charles to decide what he'll do. Max was going to be there for him, holding him no matter what.

Charles was lying on Max's chest, listening to the calm beats under his ear, letting the tears fall until there wasn't any left. There was only one thought in his mind:

I'll give my blood, sweat, and tears for this.

#lestappen #max verstappen #charles leclerc #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #my writing #racingheartstopper

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masterwords · 2 months

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Yo! I love reading these, you’re putting in the MOST.

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’ ?

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare? (You know I’m eagerly still awaiting that nightmare fic, so I’ll have this as an appetizer)

26. What are their vices? (Specifically in their relationship)

Can’t wait to hear your thoughts !!

Heyyy, I'm happy to put the hotchgan vibes out there! A lot of my regulars have moved on to other fandoms or are taking much needed breaks from these spaces so it's feeling very lonely out here. I need the hotchgan like I need air. lol Thank you for indulging me! And always being there to shove me into a fun story!

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’?

Man, I could really see it going both ways but god...just imagine it's Hotch. They haven't said I love you yet. There are plenty of things he does that just piss Derek off (and rightly so)...things that they're ready to go to blows over, even. And Hotch makes a decision that Derek doesn't like and finally, in a moment of pure desperation, Derek just says "WHY?!" and Hotch without even thinking says "Because I love you" and that's it. There's no more argument. Because what can Derek say to that? Mr. Repressed just verbal vomited in the sweetest most pathetic way.

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?

Okay. That fic needs to happen ASAP. I'll work on it tonight with a glass of wine and see if I can make it happen. I really love it, but my writing has been trash lately. BUT LET'S TALK ABOUT IT. Derek is hands on, he's going to try and soothe Hotch. He's going to hold him or run his hands through his hair, he's going to be physical as long as Hotch wants it. (And he does. I think we've established that this man is touch-starved.) Hotch on the other hand, he's more of an acts of service kind of guy. He's going to ask Derek if he wants to talk about it, he's going to get him a glass of water or a snack or ask if he wants to talk. I don't want to get too much more into detail because I'll dip into the story I'm writing for you. I will say, the direction I took is unexpected I think...which is why I'm struggling. I can't just fall into my usual comfort zone. And that's a good thing but harder to write when words are a challenge.

26. What are their vices? (Specifically in their relationship)

Ohhhh...I love vices. LOVE THEM. First of all, they're both so similar so one thing I think they both do is try to be in control at first. I can see Derek thinking he's helping, Hotch has to be in control at work so much that he feels like he's helping if he plans the date night or takes charge of weekend plans. And it isn't that Hotch minds that, he's totally fine with it, but if they both think the same thing? If they both try to plan the weekend without talking to the other? Things can get a little hairy. Lots of mixed up plans, rescheduling, apologies after hotly debated pros and cons for each plan and a big calendar posted on the freezer to help keep them on the same page.

Now, as far as different vices - I think Hotch is an over planner and Derek is very spontaneous, which can cause some friction. Vacations especially could be problematic. At home, I think that Hotch is a little messy and Derek is a bit of a neat freak (though their cars may tell a different story). Hotch is reserved and doesn't speak up when he's sick or hurt or might need to talk, which drives Derek insane. Hotch will suffer in silence until his insomnia kicks in, until he's awake all night, until Derek notices that he hasn't come to bed. "Do you need to talk?" he'll ask when he smells the coffee at 4am. Meanwhile, Derek takes his frustrations out on household projects instead of talking, so Hotch has to find out that Derek is struggling by coming home to the kitchen sink being ripped apart because of an irritating little drip. "Did you have a bad day?" Hotch asks as Derek rips the p-trap out from under the sink...the p-trap that has nothing to do with the little washer that needed replacing in the faucet to stop the drip...because he's moved on to a clog or something else now.

Communication is not a strong suit for either of them, which is a hilarious thing to say about a couple of FBI Agents with law degrees. LOL At work they're masterful, but with one another? Well...it's a learning curve. But the kissing is good and everything else can take its time, they have their whole lives to figure it out.

want me to talk about hotchgan? i will...at length...and hey, if you don't vibe with those questions, ask some of your own. i'll talk about them all day.

#otp asks #hotchgan

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3mutantsinatrenchcoat · 8 months

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Juicy jury angst

@angelpuns owns Eugene (no hate towards him PLEASE, I wrote this on my own and with permission to show Eugene angry)

Don't worry guys! They are still family, just having a little bit of a fight

Tw/cw: cigarettes, fighting, dissociation, alot of guilt (from three), slight descriptions of feeling like body melting, Three not taking accountability for half of the story

Hurt no comfort

---

Now, he will admit he is a thief. He steals from big Mama, he steals from yokai, people on the street, stores…anything shiney he can get his hands on. His greedy little hands.

If he could, Three would probably steal candy right from a baby. Not because he is mean, not because he is evil. Simply put he doesn't understand the world, he sees people have things he thinks people he cares about should have…and,...well. He takes them.

He usually never steals from those close to him but his boss, Eugene…well, he wouldn't let him have something. And he wanted to be just like him, but stores won't let him buy it and he can't get behind the counters so he went into his room.

He snatched the plastic lighter and the carton of cigarettes and sat in the middle of the room. He struggled to strike the lighter before he decided to use the flames coming from his jaw to light it.

It didn't take long for the smell of the bitter smoke to fill the air in the room. He didn't have a lower jaw but he did his best to copy how he remembered Eugene using them, breathing in….

And oh that BURNT. It burnt his throat and his chest, leaving him coughing it up, only adding the burn to his nose hole and the roof of his top jaw, some of the smoke coming out from his eye sockets.

Three cringed at it, he didn't understand how Eugene could do it. But Eugene was cool and strong so of course he had to do it too!

Eugene would never do anything that's purposely bad for him! So maybe it's just a new experience he had to live through.

He never saw Saturn do it, or Ra. Only Eugene and a few of the guards off at the hotel.

Or the people in their fancy get ups and makeup and masks, hair heavily sprayed with hair products and longer cigarettes that smell even worse than these ones.

But what hurt more was when Eugene found him not even a few minutes later. He could see the anger in his flames as they raised a little higher. He could feel the anger through his stomps, how he snatched the cigarettes out of his hand, how his voice sounded rougher as he screamed at him.

He couldn't hear what Eugene was saying, it was as if he tuned it out. It wasn't intentional he just…couldn't. It was as if Eugene was screaming at him from under water. He just…couldn't hear him.

He could only hear bits and pieces of it as Eugene took the items from his hands.

"DON'T TOUCH MY SHIT"

"LITTLE CROOK"

"GET OUT!"

It wasn't everything he said but it's what he caught onto the most. He starts zoning back into the conversation as Eugene grabs him by the arms and takes him out the room, firmly planting him outside the door before slamming it shut.

Three turns and looks at the door, frustration growing in his chest. Eugene could smoke so why couldn't he!? And so what if he touched them he was going to buy a new pack next time he went out!

He gets up and storms to his room. He doesn't even know what Eugene said, he doesn't. He knows three sentences. So it isn't like he can just figure out exactly what to say when Eugene calms down.

He closes his door and climbs onto his bed. He hated this, when they fought. Not…not play fought like genuinely fought. When the two would get angry and snap at each other and walk away. Sure they would be okay later but…this time it felt different, it felt worse.

It didn't help that the frequency from Eugene was off, it felt angry. It felt…somehow worse than how Big Mama's angry was.

What was he to do…what could he do?...

Nobody was home, he wouldn't be allowed down the stairs because of the baby gate…he doesn't know what exactly got Eugene so mad about it. I mean he knew that taking the cigarettes was bad, but it isn't like half the gifts he gives them aren't stolen! He's never gotten in trouble with it before so why was he now?..

Not only that Mama Saturn and RA were out in town for the whole day…so what could he do. He couldn't ask them what to do.

He didn't like this, his throat still burned, his chest hurt and his hands hurt. He didn't like this, he sat there in silence staring at the ceiling for what felt like forever.

He gets up and hops off the bed, heading down the hall to Eugene's room, he turns the handle and opens it, seeing the baby gate put between him and the room.

"Eugene I wanna sit in there with you" he looks at him sitting at his desk. He watched Eugene glances at him and then go right back to what he was doing.

"Eugene! I want to sit in there remove it-" he pushes on the baby gate.

He huffs and watches Eugene through the bars before he tries to climb it, struggling. "Eugene! Are you still mad!" He huffs and grunts as he slips and lands back on the floor.

He huffs and looks between the gate at Eugene, who still ignored him. Three felt the hurt in his hands get worse as he stands up and sticks his arm through it. "Eugene!.."

He couldn't get to him, he hated this. He wanted to be in there with him like he usually is. He grunts as he tries to reach him, even though Eugene was a good few feet away.

"Brother!" He shouts at him, his voice cracking with desperation before Eugene stood up. Three's tail wags slightly and he backs up to be let in only for Eugene to reach over the baby gate and slam the door, without so much as a look at him.

His tail slowly stops and he stares at the door, blinking a few times.

"... Eugene..?.." his voice cracks slightly, he must have really pissed him off now. He didn't understand, all he did was try to be like HIM. What was wrong about that? He knew it wasn't taking the cigarettes because he's from other people before.

He looks at the stairs and notices the gate was moved from there to Eugene's door. He looks back at the door and tries to open it only to hear the clicking of the lock protesting.

Eugene locked him out. He never locks him out. Three slowly heads back to his room, hugging himself. He must have really messed up…and this time he didn't know how to fix it.

He didn't know what to do, he messed up so bad that his brother won't even look at him. Was Eugene mad about him calling him that? Was that why Eugene was mad?

Thoughts flood into his little skull as he tries to figure out what needs to be fixed, he can fix it he swears he can. He doesn't want to end up back at that void if he can't fix it. It's COLD.

It's cold and he doesn't have anyone there. But if he can't fix it...

No, no it's okay. Three has to reassure himself. Because Big Mama has the bracelet, not Eugene.

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive because as soon as he thought about her he felt the center of chest squeeze. He gasps slightly and takes a few steps to his bed before the squeezing tightens, his legs crumble quickly and he drops to the floor, his flames dying quickly and dripping into liquid on the floor, he swore he felt half his face melting, even though it wasn't.

He couldn't feel Eugene's frequency, and it scared him but as soon as the grip loosened it was right back to where it was, thrumming through the floor and the air.

He gasps softly as tears build up, he feels nauseous. The liquid slowly stops dripping and goes back to the fine mist then back to the flames.

He had to get ready to go. He would be gone a whole week…and. He needed to talk to Eugene right now.

He couldn't leave Big Mama waiting but he couldn't leave Eugene mad. He slowly gets back to his feet and walks back to Eugene's door. He hesitates before knocking. "Eugene?..."

No answer. So he tries again…still no answer.

Final time, Eugene swung the door open, his hands shaking. "Three, leave me the fuck alone. I don't want to see you right now"

Three hesitates before looking at him. "I gotta-"

"I don't care!" Eugene drags his hand down his face in annoyance before huffing. "Leave me alone, you stole from me. I can't TRUST you right now."

Three stares at him, realizing he was in trouble for taking the cigarettes. He didn't get a chance to respond before the door shut again.

And just like that three felt the warm tears building up, he messed up. He messed up and there was no time to fix it. He slowly turns and walks down the stairs, hand on the wall.

He had to leave, to go fight and he didn't even know if Eugene would text him at all while he was gone. Would he even care?...would he pick him up at the end of the road?

Three walks out the house and lets in a shaky breath. While he is gone…he can go find something to fix it. And when he gets home…all will be better.

#threewrites #juicy jury #rise sonas #rottmnt sonas #tw guilt #cw guilt #tw fighting #cw fighting #tw cigarettes #cw cigarettes #tw mentions of body melting #cw mentions of body melting #tw dissociation #cw dissociation

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blazersparker · 7 months

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Okay, I am severely curious about Na- Ner.. Hold on *checks notes* Narnia- Nareena! I'm curious about Nareena!

Ramble free zone, I wanna know who they are

~Jayden (He/They/Xe)

WEHEHE TYY SO MUCH FOR THE ASK IM!!!! SO EXCITED GOD . NAREENA. WHERE DO I EVEN START!!! Left side is his healing arc :3

Fun fact! My best friend picked Nareena's name. Originally I just called her "elder", and then I went ok give me a name off the top of your head GO and fae said Nareena so. That is his name now. I didn't even second guess it or anything

OK LONG RANT AHEAD WOOPS:

UH TW FOR RELIGIOUS ABUSE!! they grew up in a cult essentially so

Nareena's the eldest sibling at the orphanage- not really based on age, lots of them don't even know their birthdays, but based off ranking. She's the most obedient, and most knowledgeable of their traditions and scriptures, so she's earned her title of an elder.

Nareena views all the kids as his siblings, though he'd always had a soft spot for Sokar, which Masha takes note of and absuloutely despises. This causes a lot of conflict between the three that Sokar is mostly unaware of till the Tragedy TM

Why does Nareena have a soft spot for Sokar? Well!! They're much more alike than most people believe, Nareena just keeps a lot of her issues internal, while Sokar can't help but wear her heart on her sleeve. Nareena feels as though comforting Sokar helps her in some way- giving someone the care she wishes she had?

He keeps his hair short consistently, since the adults at the orphanage shave Sokar's hair as soon as it grows long so she doesn't start getting any ideas about being like the girls- Nareena says that if he's a girl with short hair, then Sokar can be too.

The Tragedy TM occurs because of Nareena. She tells on Masha despite knowing what they'd do to her, because she knows what they'd do to her, and the adults salute her for it. She doesn't feel like she did something holy or right. She feels dirty and awful and guilty. She misses Masha. She shouldn't miss a traitor, should she?

Nareena grows her hair out after Masha's death and Sokar's dissaperance. She grows into her role as an older sister- she becomes everything she knows Masha and Sokar hated. She keeps the kids in line. She wears her ritual scar on her chest proudly and shamefully at the same time- she survived, but you wouldn't want to end up like her, would you?

Nareena breaks apart any kid who has any resemblance to Masha or Sokar, and lies awake in her new room regretting it every single night. She says it's for the best. She says if she doesn't teach them now, they'll get too cocky. They'll end up just like her. She's keeping them safe. She's keeping them safe, isn't she?

No one's seen Nareena smile in a long, long time. Some of the adults who grew up with her swear she used to laugh, used to voice her opinions without a second thought, and none of the kids believe them.

UMM BUCNH OF PLOT STUFF I DONT FULLY HAVE FIGURED OUT HAPPENS BUT !!! basically Nareena's sent out to search for a rouge demon [btw they're all demons idk if the horns made it obvious] who wasn't in the orphanage or anywhere underground, and it turns out to be Sokar!! Insert nuclear level argument and plot stuff happens and uhhh ghost Masha moves on, Nareena almost dies [but doesnt!] and they dismantle the cult/orphanage [just barely] and yaayy!! Nareena healing arc

Nareena is such an asshole. He thinks he's better than everyone but like ?? Like he thinks it's a fact. He doesn't gloat but he's consistently condescending and speaks as if you wouldn't understand a word she's saying unless she spelled it out for you. Nareena thinks there's not a single thing in the world she could struggle with. Think Jayce league of legends! Self-loathing asshole who somehow believes he's perfect and has intense catholic guilt despite not being catholic. He DOES work on this- Cassandra helps considering they do NOT tolerate that behaviour and make it very obvious why being an asshole is gonna backfire on you eventually. Eventually Nareena starts to realise other people's opinions and points of view matter and his experiences r not universal <3 never put her in a position of charge ever again tho. Brings out his demons

Nareena cuts her hair again- he's always liked it shorter, and now that he's realising everything he'd learned as a child was mostly bullshit, she's learning to accept parts of herself she'd shunned away out of shame. Nareena wears clothes she never would have before, lets himself read books for the sake of having fun rather than learning, and he tells Sokar he doesn't really feel like a girl, despite still wanting to be called a sister.

His relationship with Sokar has a lot of hurdles- Nareena realising Sokar isn't a child anymore, and not naive nor 12, and how that doesn't fit in her perception of Sokar causes a ton of issues, but they work it out! Nareena adapts to the surface a lot better than Sokar too- considering Nareena was a full-fledged adult with a support system while Sokar was a traumatised 14 year old practically dumped on the side of the road after she'd watched her sister die, which Sokar almost feels jealous of, or bad about. They also work this out tho :3 also Sokar has obviously had many years to overcome her religious trauma, but Nareena still thinks based on what she learned as a child on instinct, and has no brain to mouth filter, so she ends up saying upsetting things very often. Sokar knows Nareena's still learning, but it's making her feel bad too, so like argument ensues.

UM THIS IS SO LONG SORRY I THINK THATS ENOUGH . I wrote a whole thing about the tragedy but it was like 4 whole pages [woops] so I might just brush it up and post it on ao3 or something :3 if you'd like to read that let me knoww

#im so sorry jayden um. tjis is long as shit #long post #blazeandroseanswer #marbleztalks #god i love nareena #[eats him whole]#also masha never forgives her. she dies hating him. horrible shit #the nareena healing arc is just me bejng self indulgent. originally he was gonna die and sokar was gonna be the only one left #but i like my ocs i want them to heal and grow old together :]#[sorry masha]#oc #oc stuff #UM FEEL FREE TO ASK ABOUT ANY OF THEM OR ANY SPEFICIC QUESTIONSI LOVEEBBE TALKING ABOUT MY OCS :33333 WEEHOO!!!!#oc art #the red cross on her chest is the ritual scar btw :3 masha has one too #one of her horns is broken because of the ritual also!

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foolish-spectre · 2 years

Note

Hello! I saw this on the touken ranbu tag and wanted to submit something myself!

💌 A romantic letter from Kogitsunemaru,,,

Prompt!: Writing a letter to his lover about fun things they can do together once her painful period cramps are done for the month, as they hurt so bad it leaves her bedridden. Like a "power through this because when it's over, we can do this together" letter,,,

Personalization!

Preferred name: Rina

Preferred pronouns: she/her

Likes: Chocolate, baked goods, writing, drawing, cooking, playing games, pretty scenery, l i g h t s, rain, playing in long hair, loud spaces and quiet spaces.

Dislikes: too much salt/sugar, thunder, bugs, snails, s p i d e r s

Personality: I'm pretty cautious, someone who tries to be aware of things around them, but ultimately zones out and forgets to be careful. I consider myself knd, thoughtful and remember the little things. I tend to forget things fast, but if it's about someone, I will never forget. Spaced out on occasion, and hyper the next. Jumping around one minute then can completely shut down. Around new people, I'm very quiet. I don't speak unless spoken to. Caring, and helpful. I like helping others,,,

Context: I have a condition which causes me to struggle having my monthly. Recently, I was finally able to get it after nothing for 6 months, but the cost are these extremely painful cramps which have made me stay in bed. Just needing a lil push rn (╥﹏╥)....

Other than what is shown above, you can do this however you please and do take your time! Ignore if you can't seem to write this though! Stay hydrated and have a good day!

-💙.

(You have my deepest sympathies for the pain you’re going through, I hope this little Fox brings you some joy to help with the pain! Also Kogitsunemaru is always so fun to write since he’s so cute and charming.)

Dearest Rina,

It pains this fox to see you in pain, despite being given this human body, I can’t even take this pain away from you. But what I can do Rina-nushi, is be by your side because whenever I’m in deep anguish, just having you beside me heals my aches. Your smile and your kindness is my shining light throughout the years of uncertainty before I met you. So it’s my honor- no my privilege to comfort you in this battle because you’re the bravest one I know. I want to hold you and cradle you until the pain subsides because this Fox craves your warmth. I wish to show you the progress I made while making your favorite chocolates and baked goods, even Shokudaikiri said they were quite the treat if I say so myself. I also wish to see your works of art and hear your stories, it amazes me every time to know I have such a creative Nushi-sama. I crave your fingers through my hair, you’re always so gentle yet so thorough in your caresses that this Fox isn’t satisfied. I yearn to do so many things with you in this moment and many more, but I know in order to achieve that I must be patient. But if it’s for you, then I’ll wait many a lifetime because this Fox knows how strong you are. This pain will subside and you’ll have me there to remind you of that. I cannot wait to see the rain fall on the newly bloomed flowers with you.

From your beloved Fox,

Kogitsunemaru

#touken ranbu #tkrb #tkrb x reader #touken ranbu x reader #kogitsunemaru #letter #love letter #my writing #kogitsunemaru x reader

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littlest-dark-age · 3 years

Text

Damiano david headcannons

Tagging @daddydamiano @noshame-bb @mywritingonlyfans

Translations 1, my soul 2, angel 3, my love 4, my life 5, little star 6, puppy 7, bunny 8, sweetness. Please let me know if any translation is incorrect.

Damiano would always be pressing kisses into your soft skin, wherever he could reach at the moment. The two of you are cooking and you have a huge sleep shirt on that reveals your shoulders? Kiss. You're fiddling with his hands out in public due to nerves? He's kissing every finger while looking you in the eye with a grin. You'd think he's convinced its a carnal sin to not kiss you every five minutes

He would beg you to do his makeup, constantly. He loves the intimacy of it, you usually sit on his lap for it and the way you gently cup his strong jaw turns him into an absolute puddle. You lose count of how many times you have to make him look back at you because he just wants to close his eyes and sink into the warmth you radiate. But you can't be mad at him, not when he looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes, shining with love.

Damia would absolutely give you one of his rings, and if it doesn't fit your fingers, no worries. He'll just give you one of his chains to put it on. He loves to kiss it when you wear it, whether it be on the chain or your hand. It always makes his heart skip a beat, a claim to the world that he was the lucky one to capture your affections

Please play with his hair, please. He will turn into a puppy the minute your nails graze his scalp. It doesn't matter the length, he loves it. His eyes slowly shut as you scratch at the shaved sides but he'll deny that he's about to fall asleep.

Spa nights. Just, spa nights. He will let you put the cute animal headbands on him to keep his hair out of his mask, even letting you put it on him. Dami would love to watch movies like Legally Blonde and Clueless while you paint his nails and the glittery mask on his face dries. Never wearing a shirt, saying he wants skin to skin with you as he raises your shirt up to your chest so the two of you are pressed together. He'd sit on the floor, letting you work the hair mask through his hair as the first movie goes off and he starts to hunt for another, one of his hands stroking your bare leg.

Sleepy make out sessions are his favorite, after he's had his tea and the two of you are dead tired but can't stop. Even going as far to tell you that the two of you really should go to bed, as he's sweetly kissing you. There's no rush to it, no need to hide away your love as it's just the two of you. Locked away from the rest of the world, where damiano david is just yours. Where his nose keeps bumping yours just so he can hear you laugh and have you rub your own against his, like a bunny. His hands snaking up the back of your shirt to stroke down the length of your spine with the tips of his fingers. Barely enough for you to be able to feel it.

If you were okay with it, he would absolutely want to tattoo you. He would never pressure you to if you really didn't but he would try to convince you if you were on the fence about it. If you let him pick, good luck. It would either be something like 'i am yours', which he would get a matching one. Probably around his heart. Or it would be something for måneskin. To have something he worked so hard on, permanently on someone he loves so so much would have him ecstatic.

The pet names. They're never ending and ever changing. He says he can't help it and that he just says what comes to mind when he sees you. Whether that's anima mia 1, angelo 2, amore mio 3, vita mia 4, stellina 5, cucciolo 6, leprotta 7, or dolcezza 8. You never know which one to expect but they all bring a smile to your face, nevertheless.

Damiano would always ask your opinion on his stage outfits, not really for reassurance but more so to involve you in every possible thing he can. He loves your input and always takes it into consideration. And you help him remember some things, like something might make him too hot or might restrict his movements on stage. The practical things he doesn't always think about, more focused on the look and aesthetic of it.

Pictures, pictures and more pictures. He loves taking pictures of you doing the smallest of tasks, especially for when he has to be away from you. If you hid your face, he would still adore the photo but pout a bit because he couldn't see you. Even if photos could never compare to the real thing, in his words. He just wants you to be able to love yourself the way he loves you. He doesn't care about some imperfections, they're what make up you and everybody has them. So, it's probably easier to just let him have his pictures.

His lockscreen is a picture of you and him with the cats piled up between the two of you. You didn't even know he took it until you went to check something on his phone for him. Dami says you look so peaceful in it, pressing a kiss to the cat's head with your eyes closed, and that it always helps him calm down when he looks at it. That it reminds him of home when he's not there to hold you on the nights on the road. Although, his wallpaper is an entirely different story. A bit more...spicy, if you will. It's a picture of you laying in bed wearing black lacy lingerie with a camera in your hand, and Damiano's legs are able to be seen straddling your waist.

He might not always be able to call or facetime during a tour but believe it when he makes those calls worth it. He loves to be able to call you for hours at a time and if time zones allow it, go to sleep with you on call. If not, that's okay. He has your time zone saved in his clock so he can always be sure to send you a goodnight or good morning text, even if it's a bit late or early. Damia needs to have that little slice of normalcy to keep him from going crazy during the tour. He lives and breathes music, don't get me wrong. But you are his soul and his mind, without you, there would be no music.

If you're out with the band, he will pull you as close as you'll allow. Even onto his lap if it's a more private place or just you and the others. But this also means you'll be poked and tickled the entire night, even if you slap his hands away. He can't keep his hands off of your ribs, no matter how sore his hands get from your smacks. He compares it to when a kitten nibbles on them.

Damiano needs to be convinced to take a break and slow down, often. He gets so swept up in it that he doesn't realize he hasn't had a proper meal in a couple of days or that he's been skimping on sleep to write lyrics and play around with harmonies. Getting him out of the studio is hard, but much needed. He will appreciate it, as well as apologize for neglecting you for the past days. A nice date or just something to get him outside is just what he needed. No matter how casual it is, being able to relax and spend some time with you is one of his favorite things to do.

Some of his favorite dates are the ones where the two of you are able to just do something and have a good time without the pressure of having to dress up and get ready. He still uses the heart shaped mug you made him on one of your dates, still listens to the record you got him when the two of you got all of your favorite albums and swapped. He still has the tickets from the first movie the two of you were able to go and see together, stuck in between the worn pages of some old book of italian poems he's had forever

His love language is a mix of acts of service and gift giving. He loves to give you little trinkets and stuff he finds while on tour, each item reminding him of you in some way or another. Even if it's just a rock he thought you might like, a pair of earrings you've mentioned before or even just something he thought you might could use. And he will give you one of his oversized blazers if the two of you are out and it's cool, even make sure you have enough to eat and offer you bites of his own food if you want. Hell, if you wanted what he ordered versus what you ordered, he would swap it even if your dish isn't his favorite thing.

Dami loves cooking with you, there's something so domestic about it that he can't help but imagine your future together. He always claims that the meals the two of you prepare together are the best thing he's ever eaten, no matter how simple it is. Just don't break the pasta in front of him, you'll send him into cardiac arrest.

He loves it when you trace and kiss his tattoos, they're something he's proud of and knowing how much you like them just makes him happy. Of course, he knows you don't have to adore every tattoo he has as long as he's happy with it, but it still makes him feel nice when you show his ink a bit of love. It always tickles him a bit when you drag your nail on the ones in his chest, sending shivers down his spine when you do.

He is a cover hog, yet denies it with every bone in his body. He claims you push them onto him most of the time, despite the fact that you struggle to cover up completely whilst he's on the other side of the bed bundled up like a baby with almost the entire cover. Thankfully, he's warm enough that you can just curl up behind him or into his side and get all the heart that you need from him. He still denies that he hogs the covers when the entire comforter is in a pile on his side, almost like he's trying to build himself a nest

Showering together is one of his favorite things, he loves how intimate it can be. Holding you and helping you wash up without any need to be awkward and feeling comfortable in your own skin in front of each other means so much to him. Being able to be open with one another and not hide anything, even if it's insecurities about your body. He understands that the world isnt always the nicest place and that he can't undo how people's words might hurt you but he'll try his best to get you to love your body

Damiano would love to teach you italian if you didn't already and wanted to learn. He's so excited to be able to share something like this with you that he doesn't realize how hard it is to teach someone an entire language. He overestimates himself and how good of a teacher he is, but that doesn't mean he won't try his best. It just takes a little bit of time, for the both of you. He understands the struggles of learning a new language and wouldn't try to push you to learn it so soon. After all, Rome wasn't built in a day.

#damiano david x reader #måneskin #maneskin #damiano david #damiano david x y/n #damiano david imagine #damiano david headcanon #måneskin x reader #måneskin x y/n #måneskin imagine #måneskin headcannon #maneskin x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin x y/n

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sylverstorms · 3 years

Text

Mother Miranda x Lawyer!Oc ----Tilted Scales

Hello guys :) This is another commission I wrote for the amazing, wonderful @saltwatereulogies

Your support has been insane, I can't thank you enough. Hope you enjoy the story ❣

Three days.

That is how long you've been in the village, after years of studying abroad, before everything turns to shit.

As you slowly blink focus back into your eyes, you try to clear the haze from your mind. It feels as though you've collided with a truck. Your body hurts, your wrists protest in their iron cuffs, stuck to the wall as they are, having supported your weight while you were unconscious.

Desperately, you try to recollect the events that led you here...

A grey sky. A bleak day. One moment you were making coffee for your mother, excited to be able to sit down with her in the mornings again... and the next you heard the echo of screams.

Overcome by adrenaline, you bolted out of your house, only to witness a scene straight from a nightmare; humanoid monsters ripping villagers apart, cries and blood and animalistic growls all blending together into one mad mix.

And before you could even warn your mother...

Damn it all, what the fuck happened!

You suddenly struggle against your bonds, hard enough to rattle your whole frame. Your wrists burn from the grind against metal, but you don't care–

“Stop that. It is pointless and you will only injure yourself.” A cold voice, strangely familiar, says from far to your right.

You peer deep into the shadows, searching for the only other person in the empty room... until you see her. A mask advances on you, gold and shaped like a crow's visage, then wings folded into a cloak come into view.

You would be a fool to not recognize her. The local saint. The village's prophet. The very 'saint' your mother prayed to, for your safe return, all these years. Mother Miranda.

The sound of her heels bounces off the walls until she comes to stand directly in front of you. Looking past the openings of her mask now, you realize....

This isn't possible.

She hasn't aged a day. Not a single day, since you left the village. The years should show around her deadly blue eyes, somewhere, and yet they don't.

“I see you remember me...” she says, while you're still trying to find your voice. “Miss Warren.”

“What is going on? Mother Miranda, what happened to the village?!” you demand.

Her expression shows nothing. “The village is in need of... renovation.” she speaks, even, regal. “Repopulation, even.”

You stare at her with wide eyes.

“Now, don't give me that look. You would not be here if you weren't of the ones I chose to keep.” she continues. “You see, from now on, every single person in my domain will make themselves useful in some way, or they will be replaced. And you... you have been abroad studying law for a while now, yes?”

“I... yes.” you reply, still not fully having wrapped your mind around your situation.

“Excellent. What I need from you is simple. You will make the village independent from the state’s taxes as a religious organization... and you will keep foreign investors out from that point onward.”

What... what part of that is simple?!

“Do that for me and in return I guarantee your mother and you will go back to your house safe and sound. You will have no shortage of Lei for as long as you live, Miss Warren.” Miranda promises.

But it is not the sweet part of the deal your mind stays glued to. “And if...” you gulp. “If I can't work around the law to do that...?”

Miranda blinks slowly at you, like you shouldn't even ask such a basic question. Like the answer is obvious.

“Well. Then I have no further use for either of you.”

It is in this moment that it dawns on you.

This woman is no angel and no saint.

She is a devil.

You spend countless sleepless nights pouring over every single paragraph, every little opening or ambiguity in the law you can use to free the village of taxes.

To keep your mother in the dark about this, you work in the office Mother Miranda has provided for you, in her very stronghold.

Although technically it's her home, you don't see her nearly as much as you initially thought. She is gone throughout the day and returns late at night, not even sparing you a glance before heading for her chambers, at the upper sections of the building.

The days she does come into your office to inquire on your progress are few and far-between, your conversations always short and cold.

This evening is different.

“How is your work coming along, Miss Warren?” the prophetess asks with her aggravatingly nice accent, seating herself like a queen on the chair in front of your desk.

Your eyes are tired, but you force them on hers, through the mask obscuring her face. “I think I've got it. I'll be sending the necessary papers tomorrow and the answer shouldn't take longer than a month.”

“Very good.” she nods, a miniscule curve to her lips.

Icy eyes then drop to the wine in the whiskey glass at the corner of the desk. You think she will make a comment about drinking at work, but instead she says;

“Pour me a glass, will you?”

You will your hands steady as you comply, then carefully slide her drink over.

Miranda takes her mask with claw-shrouded fingers... and soundnessly sets it on the wooden surface. Then she pushes the veil at her hair back, shaking long, platinum locks free.

You do a double take you hope she doesn't notice. Because what the actual fuck.

You didn't think her hair was that long, or that straight, or that it would fall over her shoulders like she's staring in a shampoo ad. You didn't think her lips were shaped like a cupid's bow or that her skin was this flawless and radiant.

The helplessly lesbian part of you could begrudgingly admit she was beautiful before... but now you arrive to the painful realization she's drop-dead gorgeous.

“So. I've heard you won cases others would describe as impossible.” she begins.

“Nothing's impossible. You just need to know where to look.” you reply. Law is your comfort zone and she is not that far above you here. “But how do you know that?”

“I have my sources.”

"Nobody truly leaves this village, huh.”

“Not without my consent, no. But I knew you'd come back.” At your slight frown, she elaborates, “You would never leave your mother behind.”

She's right. There was a whole world of opportunities waiting for you out there and yet... here you are.

“Good work, so far. You can take the next two days off. Your eyes could use the rest, Miss Warren.” Miranda speaks, finishing her wine.

“Sarah.” you say. 'Miss Warren' is for clients and she is your boss.

Miranda's lips give a slight quirk that may or may not be a trick of the light.

“I know.” she replies and exits the room, long hair billowing behind her back.

The taxes were only the first challenge. Now that the village is free of them, investors are flying in circles around it like vultures over meat.

In the meantime, Miranda comes to talk to you more frequently.

Lately, it seems she has more free time. You wish that was a good thing, but...

“So... are you like... going to stay here?” You ask after reading the same sentence five times to make sense of it, because her gaze on you is distracting as fuck.

“I'm not getting in the way of your work.” she says. You want to argue she is, but can't quite do that in a way that won't get you killed.

“I'm simply not used to working with company. Isn't this boring for you?”

“No, actually. I find it interesting, even though science is my field of expertise.” she answers. “And the way you take notes is… amusing.”

You try not to blush as you look down at your notebook, filled with different colored markers and post-it squares with tiny stick figures pointing to the more important paragraphs. You have been doing this for so long to sort out information you didn't even realize you were keeping it up in her presence.

“What is this supposed to be?” she asks with a small smile, the first of its kind you've seen.

To your horror, her clawed pointer aims at a particularly silly doodle, barely the size of a pencil's eraser.

“A... bird.” you grimace like you've been stabbed.

“Ah, of course.” Miranda holds back a chuckle but you can tell she's dying to make a comment.

Studying becomes hell for the rest of the time she's there with you, those sharp eyes picking apart every little move you make. At the same time, though, the hours you spend with her make you realize...

She's not a saint, though she may look like one. She's not completely a devil, either, even if she may act as one, at times.

She's human.

Miranda shares nothing about herself when you chat, but she seems to like it when you speak about your time abroad and all the things that left an impression on you there.

Your conversation over wine is cut short, however, when you receive a call from a number you learned means nothing but trouble, lately.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” you tell her.

The one calling you is none other than this month's rival lawyer, trying to dispute your claim over the land for his own boss. He's lost to you before, so it's also personal, but you are confident you have cornered them good with the latest papers you sent them...

And you are proven correct, when, a few seconds later, he is all faux polite on the other line, resorting to offering you money for you to withdraw your arguments.

Miranda comes to stand next to you, listening in to what he's saying.

The problem with that is, the second her arm brushes yours and you catch a whiff of her perfume ��which always lingers in your office long after she's left— youare the one who stops listening to him.

Your attention flies to other things, like the inches she has on you, the exact color of her pale blonde hair, the little glint of victory in her stunning eyes.

Oh, no. God, no...

You know what this is, the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Alarm bells go off in the back of your head, as though your own mind is telling your body how foolish it's being.

There isn't a worse thing you can do to yourself than be attracted to Miranda.

Over time, familiarity with the prophetess brings higher levels of difficulty into your 'try to ignore your crush on her' game.

Miranda joins your side and leans over your shoulder, sometimes, to peer down at what you're doing. You don't move and don't breathe until she's within a safe distance again.

Then there are the wayward 'reward' touches, when you turn another investor away from the village. She may pat your back or leave her hand on your shoulder, or even scratch your nape with her claws as a job well done.

You hope your poker face hides the fact you feel her touch on you for far longer than you should, after she's gone.

Tonight, the situation is the toughest it's ever been for you.

There is a rainstorm going on outside; the waterdrops are tapping against the windows of your office as though they're trying to break it. Miranda has pulled her chair next to you so you can talk easier, without having to shout over the cacophony.

“And basically the judge's decision was that—”

You are interrupted by a blinding flash of lighting, during which your mind lets you know the stronghold is easily the tallest structure in it's vicinity—

When thunder cracks down the sky and strikes the building, you nearly scream. Your body tenses and you jump; but Miranda's hands come to your biceps and hold you steady, against herself and your desk.

Another flash comes before you really have time to think about your proximity. She covers your ears with her palms before the thunderclap can send you into overdrive again.

“You are with me and you're scared of a little thunder?” she teases when things quiet down and your heartbeat eases.

It's true; Miranda is the more terrifying force of nature. At the same time, however...

You feel oddly safe to be this close to her.

“Well... I'm not scared right now...” you quietly admit.

Her pointer comes underneath your chin and lifts it so you are looking straight into her hypnotic blue eyes. How is this color even real...

“And why is that?” Miranda asks, her wings coming around you both. They're curtains of black, cutting out some of the storm's sounds.

You want nothing more in this moment than to run your fingers through each individual feather.

You lick your lips. That's...not a question you can answer if you want the balance in your arrangement with her to remain.

Perhaps, though, the scales have tilted for you long ago. You just haven't been brave enough to admit it.

You have the courage to face it now when she leans down and covers your lips with hers, warm in a manner you never imagined she could be.

Her wings pull tighter around you and your mouths slide more firmly together. Lipbalm and creamy lipstick mix, tongues brush, tasting of wine. You are shaking so bad on the inside from how much you want this, more of this, the rumbling of the thunder be damned.

Miranda's palm cups your flaming cheek when she pulls back, perfectly composed and staring at you with a little smirk in place.

You dare to turn a little, lay a tiny kiss on the inside of her wrist, beyond her rings and accessories.

You aren't very fond of storms, but...

You willingly walk right into the eye of this one.

#mother miranda x oc #mother miranda #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #fanfiction #creative writing #commission #thank you so much :')

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hslotharrie · 3 years

Text

valentines (a.m)

summary: when reader and harry go home from their valentine’s day date.

word count: 2741

warnings: fluff, smut. slight bit of a choking thing going on. not edited as per usual!

tags: @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist

read part 1 here!

After your meal and a hearty slice of double chocolate cake, you're both stuffed.

The restaurant is much quieter now, nearing it's closing hours. Harry's hand is joined with yours across the table as he continues to munch away at the remnants of the cake. He hums along to whatever music plays quietly over the sound system until something crosses his mind and you're chatting away again.

You're smitten with him. He could be talking about something completely absurd and you would still be looking at him with more love and adoration in your eyes than should be humanly possible. The day you met, you fell in love with his personality, his mannerisms, him. And, when prompted (though sometimes not), he would say the same about you; meant to be.

Your pretty new necklace is now hanging safe around your neck, perfectly accenting your shirt just as Harry somehow had planned. Shocker. An inside joke, 'Harry magic', is announced when something works out perfectly in his favor. An unreasonably frequent occurrence, in your opinion, though you can't complain.

The plate is empty (spare the streaks of frosting and crumbs you both couldn't scoop up) and your drinks are finished. You're both up at the bar now, Harry's politely complimenting his experience to the teller while using the card machine to play your bill. It makes you smile how close he keeps you even at the mostly empty pub area, you're unmistakably his, right on his hip.

While he's doing his thing, you zone out on the sports television. They're saying something about some scandalous faked injury and you're not all that interested, but it's there, and—

"Do y'come here often?" Harry jokes, pulling you out of your trance. You let out a snort, turning your attention back to him and flashing your most innocent look,

"I do, actually! With my boyfriend, have you seen him?" you tease back, grinning when his hand wraps around your waist.

"Hmmm, can't say I have," he replies, faking thought "D'you want t'get out of here then?"

You lean back on the bar top, pretending to contemplate while his smile grows. He's feeling touchy, desperate to get you home but you know he's playing it down because of the public setting. Too many eyes.

Before you know it, Harry's leading you to the rather cold car and he's backing out of the parking place, inching towards the main highway to get you both home. His hand lays gently on your mid thigh, thumb rubbing delicate circles and patterns.

He hands you his phone to play some music through the bluetooth, and after struggling with what to play for a few minutes, you decide to play it safe and hit shuffle on his favourites playlist. He hums, braking out into lyric every now and then. The volume is low, his voice standing out against the tune.

It's quiet, but not so, at the same time. A pleasant medium.

"Can we have a bath when w'get home?" Harry asks, glancing in your direction only for a few seconds.

"Only if you wash my hair," you tease in return.

...

Soon you're pulling into the driveway, you both do a funny little run to the front door because of the cold. It causes a fit of giggles to erupt between you while Harry unlocks the door to your warm home. As soon as you're inside, he pulls you in for a kiss; holding your jaw with one hand and the back of your neck with the other to keep you close.

His kisses are soft, slow, and loving. You could feel the need behind them, but you still had a bath to get to so the kisses stayed kisses.

Harry pulls away, pressing one more peck to your lips before announcing that he's 'going to get some candles for the bath!' and scurrying away somewhere within your living room. Your shoes and coats are forgotten messily in the entryway as you head upstairs to start the warm bath.

You plug the large bathtub and then start the water, adjusting the temperature to a comfortable warm. Harry soon appears behind you in the doorway with your favourite candles and both of your bathrobes.

He places the candles with his own careful consideration and lights each of them with a lighter. When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

Harry notices the bath is nearing full, so with a smirk, his hands venture through your open tucked shirt to tickle along your back. You chuckle, leaning your foreheads together as his hands slowly untuck your shirt and then rise to push the fabric off of your shoulders. He dips down, pressing quick kisses along your neck, reaching your collarbone before you have to reluctantly push him away.

"Bath first, H." you murmur, pulling his head back to meet his eyes.

He does nothing but hums in reply, a big smirk still plastered on his face. You start unbuttoning his shirt, teasing him on purpose. You step back to admire the fake shock-offended expression you've created on his face before slipping off your bottoms and sliding into the warm bath water, leaning ahead to shut off the tap.

After murmuring something about you being a little minx, Harry shrugs off his clothes and sinks in behind you. For a moment, you relax into eachother. The comfortably hot water soothes your skin. It's bliss.

Until Harry's lips begin to roam. And his hands, too.

It started out innocent, just a few light kisses on your shoulder, but those grew into nips, bites, and soon he's blooming purple flowers along the line of your neck. You sigh as his hands roam the parts of your body exposed from the warm water.

Harry slides his foot to the tub drain, moving it to the side to allow the water to escape. Harry's hands continue to tease over your skin, lightly tracing from your collarbones, between your breasts, then skipping over your middle to run a finger down your thigh, lowering his touch as the water drains.

"Beautiful, every inch of y'body," he breathes, just under your ear.

"Harry," you warn in return, attempting to squeeze your legs together when he traces particularly low. He only hushes you in reply.

You can feel him behind you, getting hard against your lower back. A sly smirk on his face as he watches your skin tense as he traces all the way down your thighs only to skip over your most sensitive area and drag a finger up your stomach. To tell the truth, Harry loves the desperate, sensitive reactions you give him. He's having fun teasing you.

The water is gone now, completely down the drain. He nips once at your ear before his fingers travel feather-light down your thighs and this time they don't jump to your chest. He's holding his middle finger over your clit, no movement but it's pressure and it's there. The shock makes an uncontrollable gasp escape your throat and your legs try to snap shut again.

Harry hooks his foot around your ankle, successfully pinning your leg against the side of the tub and thus allowing enough space for him rub slow circles around your little bundle of nerves. You get more and more sensitive, and soon he pulls his fingers away from your clit only to slide two swiftly through your entrance.

Your jaw is wide open and your head is thrown back against his shoulder. You can see the growing, entertained, smile on his face as he pumps his fingers and you whine out. You're beginning to tighten, he can feel it, so he snakes the hand previously holding your hip up to wrap gently around your neck.

Your breathing turns into gasps and your fingertips turn white from holding the sides of the tub. Your pussy starts to flutter, hips jaunting, and Harry's adding pressure to your neck as he feels you near closer to your break.

You can almost feel the smug smile on his face. He's enjoying getting you off on his fingers, making you feel good, and he always has. He matches your moans with his own, cheering you on.

"Harry," you whine, breathless.

"Y'can let go, baby. Let me feel y'cum," he says.

He holds you through it, moaning along with you when you come undone. His hold on your neck tightens just a tad more, making your head foggy in the best way. His fingers don't stop until you're forcing him away, breathing heavily and twitching from over-stimulation.

When you come down, you let out a quiet giggle through your huffs of air. Harry wraps you in a hug from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek and letting out a few giggles of his own.

"Didnt wash my hair," you joke. Harry snorts in reply.

"Would have you rathered I washed y'hair instead?"

"...No."

"Ah, need I say more?," He says, quiet and close to your ear, just the sound of his breathy whisper shivers down your spine.

You sit forward, giggling at the hiss Harry makes from the relief of pressure on his dick. You stand and step out of the shower, grabbing one of Harry's soft towels and patting the remaining dampness off of your body. Harry watches like a lost puppy, hurt almost, cock hard against his tummy.

You throw the towel onto him, flashing him a smirk and walk backwards towards the door to your bedroom.

"I'm not 'gonna fuck you in the tub, H." you say, arms folded while he stands to dry himself.

"Going t'fuck me?" he pats dry his chest and legs with little effort, giving up when you stop at the door to look him up and down.

There's about three seconds of silence when the both of you just stare, taking in each other's bodies before your eyes meet again and he's dropping the towel to step towards you.

Harry brings both of his palms to your face and kisses you hard. He nudges you backwards, guiding you to the bed. Just as the back of your legs hit the mattress, he gently pushes you enough for you to lose balance and fall onto the plushy sheets. He stands, taking you in.

You move back on the bed to allow Harry some room to join you. The mattress dips with his weight and you then feel him pressing opened mouth kisses on your neck, light scruff scratching along where his lips and tongue don't soothe. The tip of his cock is resting just below your hip bone, leaking; telling the truth of just how much you turn him on.

"M'gonna fuck you baby," Harry almost warns "so good."

"So good." you agree, watching as he slides himself between your legs and brings each of your thighs to wrap around his hips.

Suddenly, he's taking your wrists and pinning them above your head, using one hand to hold them while he uses the other to tap the tip of his cock against your clit. You let out a quiet whine, your pussy clenching around nothing.

"Harry— fuck, please," you beg, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation.

He guides himself to your entrance, teasing over your hole a few times before sliding in all at once. You both let out a loud groan, your jaw drops and you struggle against his hold on your wrists. Harrys in his own world, eyebrows furrowed as he brings another hand to hold your wrists and drops his head into your neck to compose himself.

"You're squeezin' me so tight, so fuckin' wet."

He slides out slowly, then snaps his hips forward. He moans again; the sweet sound blending with your own.

"So warm, baby, takin' me so well." he coos, pulling out just to the tip and pushing in again, setting a steady pace this time.

You can feel him deep. Every vein, the soft ridge of the head of his cock, every time his skin comes in contact with yours sends a jolt through your body. You can feel his breaths against your collar bone, building himself up so that he can truly fuck you.

And he does.

When he's confident he's got enough control over himself, he brings a hand down to your hip to use as leverage as he begins pounding into you without warning. Your head flies back into the mattress, a long needy moan breaks out of your throat as his hips snap into your own. It's not long before you feel the pit in your stomach begin to knot, and when harry feels your pussy begin to flutter he's moving the hand on your hip to rub fast around your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Give it t'me baby, you can cum, let go," he sighs, out of breath.

You give in, whining loudly and then moaning out a few loud ah ah ah!'s as he keeps his relentless pace even through your orgasm.

He slows only slightly, letting you get your bearings. He finds your eyes, making sure you're alright before flipping so he's sitting with you on his lap, holding your arms behind your back. You moan out at the new angle— he feels deeper this way.

Somehow, you convince your legs to move, sliding up and down on his cock. You're whimpering uncontrollably, Harry presses a kiss to your lips before leaning down to take one of your breasts into his mouth. You yelp, already feeling another high approaching.

Harry, of course, can tell. He releases your arms and your breast to wrap one hand around your throat, much like in the bath, and holds your hip with the other so he can fuck into you again. You almost cry with the joined sensation, wrapping both of your hands around his forearm and locking eyes with him.

There's sweat joining at his hairline, on his neck, down his chest and, fuck, it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. His eyebrows are creased together, jaw open, he's panting. He's slamming into you, keeping a medium level squeeze on your neck and trying his hardest to bring you to a second high before he meets his limit. The rings on his fingers, especially the shiny new silver ones, provide the perfect amount of bite to his grip on you. Harry magic.

He’s hitting that spot inside of you every time he thrusts and he can’t believe how tight you are. He’s losing control, fast, and his desperate whines are nearly overpowering your own at this point.

“Baby, need you to cum,” he begs, watching your eyes. You can tell he’s close, his jaw is clenched and his rhythm falters every now and then.

“Baby, please,” he whines again, out of breath. “cum around my cock.”

His thumb hardly had time to find your clit before your body tenses, the white hot feeling of your third orgasm washing over you. Harry isn’t far behind, both of his arms wrap around you to hold you close as his hips snap up one final time and warm spurts are coating your walls.

His head is tucked into the bend of your neck as he lets out a loud groan of pleasure, milking his orgasm and pulsing inside of you. You can’t help but smile and hold him through it. Gently, you knit your fingers into his hair to bring him back

When he’s caught his breath, you pull away. Harry lets out a quiet hiss when you do, but he’s got a drowsy smile on his face and presses a quick kiss to your lips before he rotates and gives you a gentle push onto the bed.

His feet pad to the bathroom and you can hear him wetting a cloth to clean you and himself up with. When he returns he kisses you again, slower this time, before bringing the damp warm cloth to your inner thigh, testing the temperature before gently cleaning you off. You still flinch though, sensitive, and Harry meets your eyes before he continues.

“Alrigh’?” he asks quietly, more to soothe than to assure your comfort. You nod, allowing him to finish and throw the cloth in the direction of the bathroom and crawl into bed beside you.

“Wha’ time’s it?” you whisper to Harry beside you. He shuffles to his side to check his phone, cringing at the brightness and then flopping back into bed beside you.

“Twelve fourteen,”

He presses a light, sweet kiss to your lips; knowing what you’re about to say.

“Happy valentine’s day, H.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harrie #harry styles smut #fineline #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic

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apocalypticbadass · 3 years

Text

Sapphic Vampire Lovers (Smut)

A/N: Hey guysss it’s Alice smut time. Haven't been able to get the woman out of my head recently so here are my musings. You live with the Cullens and Alice is your girlfriend, but no one at school knows. You’re basically an adopted sibling so I might refer to the kiddos as your brother/sister. Also I’m not saying Alice can't see the future in this but like...lowkey...it’s hard as hell to write for her when she already knows everything lol.

Warnings: Smut, cursing, I think that’s it.

----

You sighed loudly as Mike Newton continued to prattle on about unimportant matters by your side. The bell signaled the beginning of class, and you feigned an apologetic look, which Mike believed wholeheartedly as he scurried to his seat. Poor boy. You turned to Emmett, your “brother” who sat next to you in Chem.

“He doesn’t give up, does he?” Emmett snickered.

You shook your head and sighed. “Oh shut it, Em.”

“You should just turn him away at this point. It’s going too far. Alice is starting to really notice.”

“Wait actually? She can’t possibly think I would ever pick Mike Newton over her.” You replied, getting quite nervous that Alice might be upset with you.

“I’m just sayin’. He’s always flirting with you, the last thing you want is for Alice to get the wrong idea.” “Yeah, you're right. Thanks Em.”

He smiled at you and ruffled your hair before you both turned towards the front to pay some attention to your teacher. You couldn’t sit still for the entirety of class, Emmett kept having to pull your hands out of your mouth to stop you from biting your nails or rest his hand on your knee to keep your leg from bouncing. The bell rang after a painfully long class, and all you wanted was to get out of there. It was the last period of the day, so you and Emmett grabbed your things and booked it out of class, he understood your desire to leave. What the both of you had missed while you were too busy worrying about your anxiety, was that Mike Newton had left class 10 minutes early with Eric Yorkie and Tyler Crowley. How Emmett’s incredible hearing and sight had missed that, you’ll never know. Or maybe he just thought it was unimportant. The rest of your family caught up with you, and Alice linked her arm in yours.

“Hi baby.” She said with a smile.

“Hi Ali.” You answered, nuzzling into her shoulder as you walked.

As you all got closer to the parking lot, Emmett gasped. “Oh my fucking God...”

“Oh Jesus, here we go.” Rosalie sighed.

Draped across the side of Mike’s minivan, made of canvas and paint, was a sign that read “(Y/N), will you go to prom with me?”

You stopped dead in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

No way was this happening.

You turned, horrified, to look at Alice’s face. She was staring straight ahead, jaw set, eyes unreadable. You softly disconnected your arms and rushed over to Mike, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

He beamed as he saw your urgency. “So, what do you think?”

“Mike, take it down right now.” You pleaded. “I’m sorry but I won’t go to prom with you.”

His face fell as Eric and Tyler moved to take the sign down and save Mike a little bit of embarrassment.

“I’m sorry Mike, I have to go.”

“Yeah, no, it’s cool.” He said, rubbing the back of his head.

Your family was on your left and they were already getting into the car. Alice was at the back, and you grabbed her wrist while begging her to turn around and talk to you. “Alice, please, can we talk?”

“What is there to talk about?” She spat, venom in her voice. “Clearly you gave him a reason to think he should ask you. You’re very friendly, and I love that about you, but I think flirting with someone when you have a girlfriend is way too far.” “Alice you know I would never do that. You know how loyal I am to you, Mike could never hold a candle to you. I swear I’ve never flirted with him in my life, he’s just obsessed or something.” Your eyes shone with tears. “Please, baby. Trust me, not him. I swear on my life I only love you.”

You could see the slightest softening of her defensive exterior as your (y/e/c) eyes bore into her deep amber ones.

She stepped closer to you and sighed. “You’re right, I’m overreacting, I suppose. You haven’t given me any reason to believe that you’d flirt with him.” Alice placed her lips below your ear. “Unfortunately for you, you’ll have to pay for poor Mike’s mistake. I’ll have to remind you who you belong to, just incase you needed a refresher.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a blush creeping onto your cheeks since you knew that your family could hear you quite clearly from inside the car.

“I’ll meet you at home.” She said before turning on her heel to walk home, she’d be back before the rest of you.

You got in the car behind the passenger seat, head in your hands as Emmett laughed from the other side of the car. “What did I tell you?”

“Drop it, McCarty.” You glared at him.

“She’ll come around.” Jasper said, hand on your knee. “She’s not actually mad, just jealous that he can be so carefree with his feelings while you both have to hide yours.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Just sucks.” “At least you’ll get good sex out of it.” Rosalie said nonchalantly, looking at her nails, which she had painted last night.

“Get some!” Emmett cheered, which made you bust out laughing.

The car ride home was comfortably quiet, everyone else’s mind wandering to other things, Rosalie and Edward speaking to one another in a nearly inaudible tone.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach when you pulled up to the Cullen house, met by Alice leaning against her Porsche, arms folded neatly across her chest. Jasper squeezed your shoulder in encouragement, feeling your nerves flow, and eased your anxiety as best as he could, one last time. Alice got in the car before you could get over to her, and just before she shut the door, she gave you a “come hither” motion. You opened the passenger door and sat carefully inside of the car, careful not to track in any mud.

“Hi.” You said softly as she began to drive.

“Hello.”

You fell into silence, zoning out while looking out the window, wondering where the hell you were going. You tried very hard not to let her know how nervous you were, but the attempt was futile because she could hear your erratic heartbeat.

“Where exactly are we going?” You managed to say, in a calmer voice than you thought you could muster.

“You’ll see. It’ll be fun.” She said lightly, tossing you a wink.

20 minutes later, Alice pulled into a hotel parking lot, probably the fanciest building you had ever seen. You knew you were in Seattle, but had never been to this secluded area with these fancy buildings. You felt severely underdressed, the both of you casual, but her level of fashion much higher than yours, her walk far more graceful. She gave the keys to the valet as they pulled luggage out of the trunk. Alice took one bag for herself and handed one to you. She kept her hand on the small of your back and led you through the massive glass doors, which were opened for you of course. The gorgeous decor of the lobby kept your gaze until Alice had signed you both in.

“Come on now, love.” Her voice was like melted honey.

Your gaze flipped to her and you followed her to the elevator, where she pushed the button for the top floor. Your eyes went wide as you remembered peering up to the peak of the building and how high it was. As you stepped out, there was one single door in front of you. Alice swiftly unlocked it and ushered you inside, bolting the lock shut immediately. As you walked around in awe, you felt yourself being whisked away, vision blurring as Alice ran you both into the bedroom, where she tossed you onto the silk duvet. Her dainty, but incredibly strong hands pushed your shoulders back onto the bed.

“What to do with you?” She pretended to think before pulling a pair of cuffs from behind her back.

You bit your lip as you felt butterflies down below. Your wrists were in one of her hands in a second, cuffed to the headboard before you could even blink. “Are you going to be good for me, darling?”

“Yes baby, I will.”

“Good.” She muttered into your ear, tearing your shirt off to suck on the exposed skin of your breasts. All you wanted to do was tangle your fingers into her short hair as she marked your body. Your wrists audibly struggled against your confines and you groaned. Alice laughed. She tore your bra off in a fluid motion, gently worrying one of your nipples between her teeth.

You sucked in a breath. “Ali, please. Wanna touch you.”

She swiftly flipped you onto your stomach. “No ma’am. Not allowed.”

She then pulled your pants and underwear off in one go, leaving you completely exposed. Alice slid a finger towards your clit, circling it slowly. You whined and squirmed, so she ripped all contact away from you. You felt her cool breath at your ear and her disapproving tsk. “I thought you said you were going to be good for me.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good. I promise.”

“You better.” She replied, swiftly inserting one finger into your vagina. You took a sharp breath through your nose, trying to keep still. She curled her finger into your g-spot at an incredible pace, causing you to take a mouthful of the bedsheets to keep yourself quiet. She was pleasantly surprised at how good you were being, so she added another finger, scissoring you open. It took absolutely everything in you to just stay still and quiet.

Once you felt stretched enough, she placed a kiss at the base of your spine and retracted all contact, flashing across the room to grab a bag. You were unable to see this, but her clothes were off in an instant, and she had fastened one of her many straps around her hips. She’d chosen your favorite attachment, a hot pink dildo that measured around 7.5 inches. She leaned down to whisper in your ear while allowing the toy to nestle into the cleft of your butt.

“You’re not even gonna remember Mike Newton’s name after this.”

With that comment, she slid the tip of the toy into your entrance, slowly pushing into you, stretching you all the way out. “You can make noise now, love.” She purred.

Immediately, a string of profanities left your mouth. “Holy fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good inside me.”

After a few moments, you felt her icy hips hit your butt, felt her lips sucking marks onto your shoulder blades. “Move please, baby.” You whined, trying not to struggle against her. She pulled out of you slowly, and entered you once more. Taking her time, Alice picked up a pace that made your toes curl, she hit your g-spot every single time.

“Jesus fuck, Ali, God you’re so good. Feels so good, so fucking good, babygirl.” You babbled on as she drilled you into the bed at an inhuman pace, hands tangled into your hair.

“You just needed a little reminder, didn’t you, doll? Just needed to remember who you belong to. Mike Newton could never fuck you this good.” She growled, nipping at your earlobe. You wanted to make a sarcastic remark, but your words couldn't get past the way Alice was making you feel. Your clit gained some friction as each thrust pushed your body into the mattress a little further.

“Alice I’m so fucking close babes, please don’t fucking stop.” You cried out, the inferno in your stomach threatening release.

“Come for me, love.”

With her words, you came hard, squirting all over the duvet, leaving it soaked. Alice pushed all the way into you and stilled for a moment, relishing. “You were so good for me, babygirl. So beautiful.” She praised, pulling out of you and flipping you over.

“Wanna taste you.” You whined. “Sit on my face.”

Alice smirked at you and quickly unfastened the strap before positioning her dripping pussy over your mouth, settling softly with a moan. She had remained untouched until now, so the contact was quite welcome. “Christ, babe. Your mouth feels so good.”

Your tongue explored her walls, licking every surface, nose bumping her clit every so often. She leaned back and placed her hands on your thighs, squeezing them softly to get a grip. You moved to her clit, lips wrapping around it and drawing it into your mouth, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lover. You fervently continued, fully putting your mouth to work.

“Please, gonna come.” She rasped out, just before coating your face with her slick. “Oh my God, (y/n), so incredible.” Alice moaned while you continued to suck on her, drawing out her orgasm. You gazed at her with doe eyes from between her legs before she got off of you, reaching for the key to unlock your cuffs. She rubbed your wrists to soothe them before nuzzling into your neck and tangling her legs into yours.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over the way you taste.” You said after a few moments of silence.

Alice giggled. “I can absolutely say the same for you. That was amazing.”

“Totally. I love you. Sorry Mike asked me to prom.”

She let out a belly laugh, pulling you on top of her. “No need to apologize. I’m sorry for overreacting, quite dumb of me to be honest.”

“It upsets you that we can’t express our emotions for each other as freely as Mike can express his emotions for me.” “I just wish people could understand our love, understand that our gender is totally irrelevant.” She sighed, stroking your hips as she spoke. “I just love you so much and I wish I was able to show it in public without fear of something happening to you. God forbid anyone got violent.” “I know, baby, it’s really scary sometimes.” You cupped her face, stroking her cheekbone with one hand, combing through her hair with the other.

“I don’t want to say it, but you know what I’m thinking.” Alice whispered, expression growing serious.

“I’ve been thinking about it recently as well, I think we have to do it. Sometime soon, I want to be with you forever. We’ll set a date.”

Alice gave you a lopsided grin. “Can’t wait to be sapphic vampire lovers until the end of time.”

You laughed, leaning down to kiss her. “Oh hell yeah.”

#alice cullen #the cullens #alice cullen imagine #alice cullen x reader #alice cullen smut #alice cullen x reader smut #twilight #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #midnight sun #vampire #sapphic #lesbian

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yanderedreaming · 2 years

Note

Hello can i please have yandere jjk and hxh matchup? If requesting 2 fandoms are okay ofc if not then u can do jjk

I'm pansexual they/she/it pronouns. Height: 5'7 i'm a bit chubby and have broad shuolders, dark brown eyes, and short brown hair (tips are blond btw) My love language is quality time and gift giving. I speak 3 languages (Greman, Russian, and English). My hooby is reading classical literature (especially if it has bad ending😩 i'm big angst lover). I don't fall for people easily, most of the time i don't pay them attention, i live in my head where i'm making up fake scenarios. I spend most of my day being alone. it's my comfort zone, and i rarely step out of my comfort zone. Ideal partner would give me alone time (and i need it a lot i'm not used to affection and it makes me feel odd) also i want someone whos outgoing and confident someone who can push my limits and make me more confident ab myself also show deep love and care for me all the time. I suffer from social anxiety. I'm quiet person i don't talk a lot. I think that my best quality is that i'm very loyal, i fall for one person and i'm so blinded by love that i can't see if they're doing something wrong (in my eyes they're always right no matter what). Can't say that i'm sensitive person but i'm very protective of my close friends. I often feel emotional emtiness and i completely dissociate from reality. I struggle with my mental health a lot. I don't like when ppl afe hateful and judgy. My ideal date would be haveing deep conversation about controversial issues in a calm environment where we will not be disturbed, i want to know their world view and see things from their perspective also i would love to hear literally every single detail about their life, i will never get bored i'm really good listener.

Thank u for your time!

Your Yandere match up is with:

Yuji Itadori!

I see it happening quite randomly. You were in a park reading a book/ just enjoying the quiet outdoors stuck in your own fantasy wonderland, coming up with scenarios or trying to visualise the scene playing forth in your book when suddenly out of no where you were hit by a football followed by a very apologetic Yuji who ran all the way to stop the ball before it hit you, but still didn't make it in time. He would be very apologetic and as you don't like talking too much, he'll take it as you're mad at him for that.

He'll try his best to initiate a conversation with you and try to invoke a positive reaction out of you so he doesn't feel guilty anymore and in the process will start a genuine conversation with you sitting down next to you maybe even discussing the book you're reading, or just asking you why you come to the park alone etc. Yuji's quite friendly and has a very positive outlook to life, he likes making friends and talking to all sorts of people. I can imagine he'll throw a compliment or two around especially about your hair and ask you if you did it yourself (he'll be impressed if you did)

Yuji will introduce you to the rest of his friends and will try to hang out with you as much as he can as he quite did enjoy your conversation together, especially when you started giving full sentence replies instead of one or two words. He'll make it a habit to hang out with you in the park everyday and you two will create a genuine bond together and when you tell him you're not too confident about yourself he'll be genuinely shocked and will become your number 1 hype man, not just to cheer you up but because he actually thinks you're precious. He won't push your limits like you want, but will slowly make sure you do it yourself by establishing a new comfort zone each time which will make it easier for you.

Yuji will give you a lot of time to yourself, not because he wants to, but because he has to owing to his school life and it will work out perfectly as you like having time to yourself too. I can imagine he'd spoil you by buying you a lot of food and will enjoy having peaceful picnics in a local park with you.

Yuji is more of a self sacrificing yandere, and as long as you're happy, he's happy. He will do his best to make sure you get everything you want and will try his best to always make you smile. If you're ever down, he'll rush over to you no matter what and will never fail to make you smile as that is the one thing that makes Yuji the happiest.

Yuji's yandere feelings will develop overtime and he will want to spend more time with you as a result, and the best way to do that in his mind is to introduce you to his friends. He'll do it rather slowly so you don't feel too overwhelmed, introducing you to Noraba first since she's a great friend to have and is similar to Yuji in the sense that she'll hype you up. I can totally see Noraba getting her tips dyed blonde too so you guys can twin (I actually love dyed tips sm I can imagine you look absolutely beautiful with them) So in this sense he would have monopolised quite a bit of your time, but wouldn't mind if you wanted to take some alone time for yourself too, he'll just be more excited to see you next.

Yuji wouldn't be discreet with his feelings, and would be quite open with them. He'll say whatever is in his mind. If he thinks you look beautiful in your outfit, he'll say it. If he thinks what you just said was really smart, he'll say it. He'll be pretty open about the fact that spending time with you is what helps him get up in the morning and he thinks about you all the time, he won't hesitate. Since you suffer from social anxiety, he'll always accompany you to new places and will speak in your place if you ever feel uncomfortable because he knows you so well he'll say exactly what you're thinking.

Yuji would never want you to change yourself because he thinks your perfect as you are, and if stepping outside your comfort zone is what you want, Yuji will help you best he can without you changing yourself as a person. Your dates with Yuji would leave him stunned because he's so captivated by your opinions on controversial issues and would want to hear more of your thoughts, casually chiming in a few times to elaborate on what you already said. When he returns from his missions he'll give you a full account of everything that happened and will share how he felt at each moment. (He likes talking a lot)

Finally, I can see him starting to take you out on dates (when he feels you're more comfortable with that) like night walks so you guys can look at the fire flies or sit by the river bank as the sun is setting to appreciate the natural beauty of this world. Yuji as a yandere is the best deal you could get, because your happiness is more important than anything to him, even his own.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #jjk yuuji

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mondayrobot · 3 years

Text

120-Day Fanfiction List (G)

A collection of my recommended Eren/Mikasa fanfictions for the first one-hundred and twenty days of the year.

Rating: General Audiences

a gilded world by infinitesimalll

The world was cruel. It was cold. Nearly everyday those words flowed through her mind, often accompanied by traumatic experiences.

All The Things Between You and Me by iRememberTheDark @irememberthedark

In most situations, Mikasa takes what she can get, especially where Eren, her...her...whatever he was to her, was concerned, and she was more than willing to let that pattern continue. Too bad life was so adept at kicking her out of her comfort zone.

"What am I to you?"

Mikasa asks a simple question and the world tilts.

Bad Idea by fevversinherhair

Like all bad ideas that passed between them, pretending to be dating at his brother's wedding was 100% Eren's.

Call out my name by Gcf_khaleesi

Ever since he brought her back into paths he knew that this would be the last time, he knew that he wasn't getting out of this what he was doing out there alive and she knew it as well.

canvas by orphan_account

there’s a familiarity in that question, the same one that comes along with the unspeakable way she smiles.

Cruel Decisions by solsun

The public now knows the truth of the outside world and who they are. The impending threat. No matter what, they must survive. Eren struggles with the colossal responsibility he believes he bears, the weight of an entire nation in his hands. He searches for a way to ground himself while keeping his principles intact.

demands by infinitesimalll

In all honesty, Eren hadn't expected Mikasa to take his offer after they had faced the titan who killed his mother and Hannes. It was something he said in the heat of the moment, when he was determined to survive.

for you, 2000 years later by aenar_thedragonlady

life seemed normal, as it always was but she wasn't aware of something, or rather, someone, who's been waiting for 2000 years.

fuel to my fire by aenar_thedragonlady

Being the princess of a powerful kingdom and with a legendary bloodline, Mikasa came to terms with how she was born and raised a conqueror in her father, family and kingdom's name. But when her conquest led her to Eren, a solitary king hidden in his domain far north in the mountains, she knew things could never go back to how they were.

Will she extinguish all the fires she never knew she had?

Or will she add more fuel to the flames?

ghost out of his grave by simplyhumann

At first glance, one might even think this is his glimpse of heaven. To come home to her in death, like how he always wanted to when he was alive.

It was anything but that. This was his punishment, Eren knew. To have a front row seat to the way he ruined the woman he once loved— no— still loves— and all the consequences that came after it.

hallucinating by enchantingoats

Mikasa knew it was undoubtedly her drug-addled subconscious longing for a second reunion with better odds.

Still, she wanted to touch him.

home by infinitesimalll

"in this world, i've got a place to go home to."

I’ll Take Care of You by Queenzie

When Mikasa falls sick, Eren decides that for once he needs to look after her.

Long Dream by wallmaria

“What am I to you?” Eren had suddenly said. Mikasa was again taken aback by his question. She looked at Eren’s face, there were no hints of shame when he said it, when he’s practically asking her to bare herself before him… She felt her heart pound loudly in her chest… She felt embarrassed to say the truth, but Eren also seemed to look distraught and expectant as Mikasa stammered.

not so strong after all by infinitesimalll

After a patrol in the freezing cold rain, humanity's second strongest has come down with the common cold.

Now and Forever by connectedfeelings @connectedfeelings

Waking up from a strange dream, Mikasa experiences odd visions throughout the day, all of a man and of a red scarf. Everyone leaves her with a strong sense of melancholy. Who is he? And why has he been in her mind all day? Perhaps she could ask him. Because his scarf just landed on her face, and she can't help but feel like the universe is telling her something.

New Year by Ilucida

The New Year celebration in Hizuru style was different.

remember a day we dreamt by Violea

Let's live the rest of our lives peacefully. Just the two of us.

return to me, the you of 2000 years ago by rilakkuma5 @uhhstar

Eternal return is a concept that the universe and all existence and energy has been recurring, and will continue to recur, in a self-similar form an infinite number of times across infinite time or space.

Simpler Times by wamomo

Three moments in which Eren doesn't regret leaving and one in which he does.

some place to be at peace by bacondestiny

He remembers the feeling of his head exploding off his body and the earth quaking before him under the weight of millions of titans on the march, remembers the awful ruin and the craters and the puddles and the charred remains as he crawled after them on hundreds of ribs--but all of that is so far away. It’s so far away that he’ll never see it again. All he can see is Mikasa, smiling up at him.

It doesn’t matter what’s flowing through his veins or lurking in his bones or rattling around in his head. What matters is what he has in his arms.

sparkling green by maketea @rosekasa

mikasa wakes up to find eren has done all the work for her.

The hellfire called love by septembersnotes

I hold us together, our lives, our pitiful youth, our days under the sun- shard by shard.

The Red String of Fate by hunnyB

Alone and defeated, Eren sighs and sinks back on the bench, eyes flickering up on Mikasa's seemingly frail frame as she sleeps soundlessly beneath the white bedsheets. He stares at the peacefulness transpiring through her face, glossed lips parted gently, raven hair splayed across the pillow, and thin long eyelashes casting shadows over her cheeks, giving off an extremely pleasant sight to lie eyes upon.

A sight that Eren has always had nearby but never sought, never once stopped to admire.

they are the prey by bacondestiny @inbothourhandsgloria

Eren does not want to be here.

It is sunny and warm and the birds are singing, today is the kind of day that should be spent running through the streets and splashing in the creek. He could be helping Mama with errands or Daddy with mixing medicines or Zeke with the goats. But no. Now he has to stand in this stupid line with Zeke so he can go to school. It’s terrible.

Through the Night by Diphy_D

It’s through the night when Eren’s mind doesn’t stop thinking while his hands don’t stop tracing the profile of the sleeping woman who rests at his side. The boy loses his faith and sinks alone.

And it’s through the night too when Mikasa's sweet touch calms his demons.

“We'll be free. The two of us, just wait”.

To You, 2000 Years From Now. by fetching

“You were dreaming again. What was it about?” He asks, smiling at her.

It takes a great effort not to cry.

This is it. This is home.

“Home,” She breathes. “I was dreaming about coming home.”

to you, at world’s end, a promise by AdelineVW7

She has never been one to sleep deeply, so Eren moves with deliberate gentleness. With only the tips of his fingers he caresses the dark hair splayed upon the pillow, all the while watching the rhythm of her breathing, the flitting movement of a dream beneath her eyelids.

viva la vida by zeninclan

"Mikasa, what am I to you?"

She looked down at him as the crowd watched them, standing face to face.

A soft blush spread across her skin as she stared back at him for a moment, wind pushing through their hair as they stood in silence. They had been friends since childhood. He knew everything about her, and she did the same for him.

"Family," was the answer she landed on. She cursed herself that night for not answering him honestly.

Since then, something had changed in Eren.

Warmth by ApplePapelProductions

His body, against yours. So close, so safe, the bite of the cold, the closeness of death, did not matter. Even in this fleeting moment, only to last a second, it meant more than the entire world. More than the remainders of humanity. More than the world beyond the walls. More than you could have ever imagined, no matter how many times you prayed for it to happen.

It would end soon. Maybe one day, he could tell you that he loved you, too. But until then, this was enough.

when you move I move with you by SapphireOcean

An unrequited crush comes back into Eren's life in an unusual way.

would have married you by enchantingoats

But truly it was beyond that. She was precious to him above all else, and though it was hard to put his finger on the feeling, this attachment, it had to be what they called love.

You can also check out: 2020 Eremika Fanfiction Masterlist

#eremika #writing #fanfiction

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