#like i kind of suspected it would go there but i held out hope. maybe era 3 will surprise me idk!!!

[quillsand]

oh also i finished the lost metal!!!!

#it was good #i liked it more than i thought i would based on everything i'd heard about it #not a fan of the implication that capitalism is the natural order of things and it's inevitable that society progresses towards it though #brandon took one look at historical materialism and then closed his eyes and said 'i do not see it' #like i kind of suspected it would go there but i held out hope. maybe era 3 will surprise me idk!!! #like the concept of a fantasy world that progresses through the ages of technological advancement instead of remaining static is cool! #it is just a shame that (so far!!!!) it seems to consider social processes pre-determined and not produced according to specific conditions #(conditions which he controls!!!! we do not have to follow the path of how capitalism was produced in our world it is not an end point!!!!!) #and maybe that's on me. for trying to do a marxist reading of the mistborn series. but i just think. it didn't have to be this way #anyway my favourite part was when we got it confirmed that kelsier is a communist #2022 mistborn reread

[chuluoyi]

Hey you!! I am still a bit quite new to the jjk fandom and everything going around but i am reading tons of things and your page became my fave in like a blink of an eye, no joke!!! Like i swear everything you write with Gojo goes through my soul and beyond🔥💕 i was thinking if you would maybe sometime take on the idea of how would Gojo react if his wife/gf is pregnant and him the protective dude he is, looses his shit when she gets hurt (either random or an a mission)?and taking care of her after.

Also i hope you are well and send you all the hugs and love i can give from where I am💜💜💜

࿐ ࿔ before the dawn

tw: pregnancy, mentions of blood, satosugu angst, hurt/comfort. goes through your soul and beyond? omg that’s the highest praise🤧 oh and hurt/comfort is actually my roman empire! to fit in love entries, i have to put it in the jjk0 timeline... and also sending love for you too nonnie!! this is so sweet aww thank you🫶🏻✨

a part of gojo's love entries

“…geto suguru is going to unleash curses in tokyo and kyoto.”

you stood still, suddenly feeling like your world had crashed. you blinked at what ichiji had just said after stuttering many times. “huh? geto… suguru?”

you just had your prenatal checkup with shoko, and you had suspected something serious had been going on by the grim way she looked and how she tried to evade your questions. satoru too had been kind of busy these past few days, and he was sorry to leave you more often because of “a business he had to take care of.”

so this was the business.

“how? why?” you asked ichiji with widened eyes, the horror dawning on you surely and fast. “how is he—doesn’t that mean… he’s— he’s going to be hunted down?”

that was a stupid question. suguru had been a criminal for ten years, of course they were going to catch him. it shouldn’t be new, you knew it. but this was an act of terrorism. this was the gravest and he could—suguru could…

three years of your and satoru’s youth flashed in your mind. the laughs. the memories. how? why must everything escalate this way?

“they’re g-going to… eliminate him.” ichiji looked down with regret, swallowing hard as he told you this. “gojo-san… he’s going to participate in the battle too.”

hearing that, suddenly you felt sick to your stomach. another reality crashed: satoru could end up murdering his best friend.

almost immediately, your womb clenched and throbbed with such intensity that your breath hitched, and you lurched forward, gripping onto ichiji’s arm tightly—

“ahh!” a scream tore its way out of your throat as you crumbled to the ground. the vice-like gripping pressure that assailed you sent waves of pain coursing through your belly and there was something wet and scarlet trickling down your legs.

blood. you wheezed, whimpered and your voice came out in panicked gasps. “b-baby… my baby—!”

“i will get you to ieiri-san!” ichiji immediately carried you back to shoko’s infirmary, trying not to turn into a blubbering mess. your anguished cries resonated through the quiet hall as you held onto your spasming abdomen, and ichiji could only pray with all his heart that you would be okay… or else gojo would definitely have his head.

he was informed through a phone call, that you passed out due to shock.

satoru felt his ears ring. everything blanked out afterwards. you were bleeding. you and your baby were bleeding. you weren’t supposed to and he wasn’t even there.

you were already so far along in your pregnancy and there was only a little over two months left before your due date. despite the impulse to scream at ichiji for subjecting you to such shocking news, he realized it would be futile, because in the end, you deserved to know.

he dashed towards the infirmary, the bandages on his eyes unraveling to reveal the bright glint of his six eyes as he met shoko’s stern gaze.

“where is she?” his voice came out ragged, almost in a growl, and his fists were clenched so tightly.

his remaining friend solemnly guided him towards your room and he wasted no time to rush inside, heart in his throat to make sure that no harm had come to either you or his baby.

“...satoru?” you were sitting on the bed, still pale, the swell of your belly was prominent even under the blankets. he looked at you with a mix of fright and concern and pulled you into his arms, breathing in your scent.

“you alright?” he inquired, voice softened exponentially as he pressed kisses on your head. “does it still hurt anywhere?”

“no, shoko has—”

“your belly no longer hurts? baby okay?” his palm brushed against your abdomen, lips tugged into a very concerned frown, and when the baby kicked him was when satoru could finally heave a sigh of relief.

“you scared me so much,” he whispered into your ear in a rasp and a sigh, before squeezing his eyes shut and reveling in your familiar warmth. one of his hands rested on where your baby was, to feel his twists and turns inside you, while the other continued to hold you in his embrace.

“satoru…” you mumbled, leaning against his sturdy chest and sensing the rapid beats of his heart. you felt exhausted and guilty for having mortified him, but you must clarify one thing. “they said… geto will curse everyone… is that true?”

his heart sank at your innocent question. “for now… can we just stay like this? i will answer you later, but for now…”

and you indulged him. over the years, you learned that satoru needed assurance in physical form more than you did. your heart fluttered as he patted your back and rubbed your belly many times, his worry crystal clear.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t here… and i’m sorry that i tried to hide it from you,” he began. “in my defense, i don’t want you to put you through more stress. you have our baby to worry about already.”

as he explained things to you afterwards—about how your once kind, respected senior was now radically persistent in his pursuit of eradicating non-sorcerers and targeted yuta, your eyes watered with tears once again.

“can you stop him?” your lower lip trembled, beginnings of sobs welling up within you. “satoru… he’s… was—your best friend…”

geto suguru was an undeniable part of your vibrant youth. a part of you never got over how he decided to abandon everything during your last year of high school.

and you knew that your husband too must feel the same, with how crestfallen he looked now. it was the greatest betrayal for him to see the only person who understood him branched away to the worst path possible.

“shh... sweets, look,” satoru made you face him, the blue of his eyes darkening as he joined both of your hands together in his, dropping down on one knee before you. “for now, please— please, just focus on yourself. i don’t want you to get hurt.”

“but—”

“i won’t be able to forgive myself if you or our baby are not the slightest bit fine.”

you went silent at that. gojo satoru never showed his weakness to anyone, and with you, rarely. yet, in this moment, he appeared vulnerable, confessing that losing the only thing that kept him sane—this little family you made—would be unbearable.

“i’m fine, i promise,” you reassured, pulling your hand away before wrapping your arms around his neck, seeking his comfort and letting your tears to finally fall freely. “i’m sorry for earlier…”

“don’t. i should’ve told you sooner, that way you wouldn’t bleed,” satoru firmly rebuked in a grave tone, his voice tinged with self-deprecation as he hugged you again in return, stroking your hair. “did it hurt much? you must’ve been so terrified…”

“i was spooked, but we’re fine…”

“i’m going to take leave for the next few days, yeah? we’re going to be together. i can't—in this state of mind—leave you alone.”

the thought of potentially losing your baby filled him with terror. everything else be damned—including suguru’s atrocities, he had to take care of you first.

because you were the one who stood by his side when his world was at its darkest—you had came to him with the light of the dawn. he was forever grateful to you for becoming the apple of his eye, mending his broken heart, and ultimately becoming his everything.

he wouldn't let anything happen to you. that was his vow to himself. and he was a man of his word.

. . .

it didn't occur to you until much, much later, after all was said and done—after you were notified of suguru's death on december 24, that his mind had been set since then, because satoru had never promised you that he would be able to stop him.

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk angst #jjk hurt/comfort #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo imagines #satoru gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo fluff

[crxss01]

heyyy! can i request a fluffy e-42 miles morales x fem!reader? i want anything. maybe not a toxic relationship though, if you can?

— Sweet Baby

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ e-42!miles morales x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ you and miles hit the one year anniversary and you guys decide to stay in to celebrate. this is where you find out that he is a hopeless romantic.

warnings ✧˖ ° fluff, hugging, kissing, mature themes (light), physical touch is miles love language and there is no room for argument, he also has a sweet tooth and no one can deny that!

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ mi niña: my (little) girl, cariño: (my) dear, princesa: princess, bonito: handsome/pretty boy, tienes esa mente toda sucia: you have that mind all dirty, mi angelito: my little angel.

a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i love some non-toxic e-42 miles so i loved writing this, hope you enjoy!

"hello, tia morales!" you said excitedly as you walked into her home.

"mi niña! how are you?" ms. morales asked as she held onto your shoulder, encouraging you to walk further in.

"i'm good, how have you been?" you asked back with a kind smile.

"i have been good, cariño." she looked you up and down as you two stopped walking, humming at your outfit. "you look so beautiful and just perfect, everything my boy deserves."

you laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up at that comment. "thank you, tia."

"you're welcome, cariño." she smiled. "now, go upstairs to the roof. miles has been working on that since yesterday night, didn't want help from anyone, and it look—" she slapped her hand on her mouth, closing her eyes and cursing in spanish. "i wasn't suppose to say anything."

you laughed once again, something that was usual to do when in the presence of rio morales. "don't worry, i won't tell him." you smiled and made your way to the stairs that would lead you to the rooftop.

you suspected that miles had been lying this entire time and that he just had pretended to have forgotten your anniversary and invited you over last minute this afternoon to have ‘ramen noddles’ with you, and now you were glad that you had dressed up nicely just in case.

as you reached the staircase you noticed how it was decorated with yellow fairy lights and petals laid on each step leading up to the door of the roof where an awkward miles was standing and he was dressed up nicely as well with his hands in his packets, a timid smile on his face.

"hey, princesa." he said and reached a hand out.

you immediately went up the steps, not so fast so that you wouldn't fall but not slow either. when you got near him you took his hand and he pulled you up the final step, his other hand coming to rest on the small of your back.

"hey, bonito." you said and grabbed his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

he kissed you back, letting go of your hand and pulling you closer to him.

pulling away you squinted at him. "now why didn't you tell me you were planning this?"

"i wanted to surprise you, mami." he looked away, embarrassed.

a soft smile took over your features, and you put a finger under his chin, turning his face to you. "and i love this surprise, but what if i hadn't come dressed like this? i would look stupid next to my well dressed and handsome boyfriend." you fake pouted.

"you can never look stupid, ma." he shook his head and gave a peck to your lips. "now, you're going to put this on because the surprise isn't over." he lifted up a blindfold.

"uhh, what is that for?" you raised your eyebrows a few times.

"tienes esa mente toda sucia," he chuckled and started putting the blindfold on you, tying it in the back of your head. "don't worry you won't have it on for long."

"okay, i'm trusting you miles. don't lead me to the edge." you joked as he started leading you somewhere on the roof.

"i would never." you heard him say, but he sounded serious.

you two stopped walking and he took the blindfold off your eyes, you blinked a few times until your eyes focused again. the scenery in front of you made you gasp, it was beautiful and miles had done everything on his own.

on the floor laid a white with purple stripes picnic blanket that looked so delicate along with your favorite flowers inside multiple little bases that sat around the blanket, more fairy lights were lighting up the spot but this time in your favorite color instead of yellow, different types of foods and snacks that you and miles both liked laid there neatly and a cooler was open right outside the blanket showing your favorite drinks along with miles' favorites and water, board games like uno were also there on the blanket, and finally in the center of everything was a cake that was white with purple words that read 'one year down, forever to go."

"miles..." you looked at him teary eyed. "oh gosh!" you exclaimed, starting to fan your eyes. "i can't cry now, my mascara!"

miles laughed. "i take that as a you like it?" he sounded unsure.

"like it? i love it!" you jumped at him and wrapped your arms around his neck, and he hugged you back, arms coming around your waist. "thank you, thank you, thank you..." you whispered into his neck.

"anything for you, mi angelito."

you pulled away from his neck and kissed him, pouring in everything you were feeling at the moment into it. you wanted to tell him with that what words couldn’t describe and you hoped that he got the message.

after breaking off the kiss, you two settled down on the floor, sitting next to each other when miles pulled you into him making you lay your back against his chest.

“so…” you said. “what should we start with?”

“the cake.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

#miles morales #miles g morales #prowler miles x reader #miles morales prowler #miles g morales x reader #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #42 miles morales #42 miles morales x reader #prowler miles #atsv #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales fanfiction #earth 42 miles x you

[cheriladycl01]

I cant do this anymore - George Russell x Wolff! Reader P2

Plot: You are the daughter of Toto Wolff team principle of Mercedes-AMG Petronius, you’ve worked your whole life to become an Engineer. However, your dad has other ideas for you and doesn’t want you to become a race engineer. You start to confide more in the Red Bull racing Team Principle to help you get an engineering job, and see him as a present father figure.

A/N hope you guys eat this up

Credit to russellius for the GIF

“Max, hey bud” Charles says walking up to Max, patting him on the back. The group formed around Sergio, Dani and Max. All of them wanting to know why Y/N was in the Red Bull garage.

“Hello Charles” Max smiles taking a long sip from his team water bottle.

“So why was mini Wolff sneaking around here, is she with one of you, well more likely Sunshine Boy over here?” Alex asks, hoping for his prediction to be right, obviously thinking Dani to be the most likely choice considering both Max and Sergio were off the market.

“Unfortunately no” Dani sighs dramatically leaning against the wall.

“One of your fine engineers then maybe?” He adds, he wanted to be right. Lily and Y/N were close friends and Lily had admitted that she had been acting strange for the last few months. Kind of like when she has a secret new boyfriend who she thinks her dad won’t approve off, just slightly different. He trusted Lily on her judgements and didn’t think she’d be wrong.

“No, not that we are aware of” Sergio admits, looking between Max and Dani to see if any of them had anything else to admit, but they both kept quiet. George and Lando looked between each other, wondering why else she would be here.

“Well I’m sure Toto won’t mind me telling him his daughter was nearing around the Red Bull garage” George admits, a scowl on his face.

“Don’t tell him” Max says, his husky voice deepening, glaring back at George.

“You can’t stop me, he’s my team principle. I can tell him anything” George retorts, George had a crush on you for back in his Williams days, and the minute he moved closer to you in Mercedes it was even more prominent. Toto had learned of this and forbid him from ever actually doing anything about his feelings for you. So anything that affected you, or something that was a suspected harm to you George would for sure be all over trying to help you.

“Look, if you don’t want to hurt her… like we all know you don’t. Then you won’t stay anything alright” Max says getting all up close to George, before tapping shoulders as he walks off into the hospitality of Red Bull. Sergio and Daniel follow after him leaving the four confused at Max’s odd words.

“What the hell was that about” Lando asks, he knew Max struggled with his anger but there wasn’t exactly anything to be angry about. Lando knew Y/N they were very very close. So the fact that all of this was going on was making his head spin.

“I have no clue, but I think we should talk to her” Alex admitted.

“She isn’t going to talk to us though, not with the way she ran off today” Charles offers.

“This is a job for Lily and Alex” Alex admits knowing how close the three girls were. In their free time on race weekends they’d all go for lunch and out for shopping and often had girlie spa vacations together.

Thursday came around very quickly, and you’d made your way to the Red Bull garage in the early hours of the morning, Christian had been there waiting for you and handed you the team shirt that you would wear while you worked here. You guys had joked about potentially making a campfire so that you could burn your Mercedes gear, but Christian said that that was going a little bit too far.

Now it was halfway through the day, and all the team principles were in a meeting, one that was being held on media day by Sky Sports.

“So Christian have you managed to find anyone to be Max's race engineer for this race that is up to the standard of his last who will be out for a long period of time" Martin Bundle asks.

"We have in fact, are we allowed to have her come up on stage for introductions?" he asks pulling his mic a little closer to him.

"Oh woah, how does Max feel about having a female engineer?" a random reporter from the back shouts, making Christian frown at the question.

"Well, he is sad to see his current engineer go as they have been together for a while now, but he's very welcoming to the idea of having someone new" Christian says, currently Max's PR manager was trying to get you to go up on stage and sit in the seat next to Christian but you pulled your Red Bull cap down, trying to stay as low-key as possibly.

"Y/N come on you have to go there!" she offers trying to get you to go up on stage.

You eventually get pushed up on stage, back to the cameras and the cap completely covering your face. Your head stayed down the whole time before taking your seat.

"Show them" Christian whispers to you, you lift you head up looking at all the reporters in front of you. Camera flashes erupt throughout the room the minute they spot you.

"Is that Y/N Wolff?" One of the reporters asks in shock, making Christian look at you with a proud smile.

"I'm extremely happy and proud to confirm that Y/N Wolff will be joining us as Max Verstappen's engineer until further notice" he beams, pulling you in for a hug.

"Toto? Did you know about this?" Martin asks, looking over to the older male whose face was full of anger, disappointment and betrayal.

"No" he answers bluntly crossing his arms over his chest.

"How do you feel about this?"

"Well, I don't think its good sportsmanship at all, I should have been told about this. I have been betrayed by my own flesh and blood" he sneers looking over at you, your head tilting down.

"And Y/N what made you make this change?"

"Let's just say, Mercedes weren't giving me opportunities, that Red Bull now are" you smile, you stay by Christians side for the rest of the meeting before leaving only to find most of the drivers all waiting for you in a communal area.

"Well done we're proud of you. And i cant wait for testing tomorrow!" Max says pulling you into a hug.

"How could you do this to your dad, he's given you everything" George shouts pushing Max away from her and stepping up to her. Lando and Alex come up either side of him to make sure he doesn't actually do anything to hurt his imagine.

"I - I wasn't happy..." you started but get interrupted by him again.

"What, not happy being a golden child? Not happy being born into wealth and not having too do anything because daddy paid for everything. Not happy that your clothed in designer brands everyday, or that you travel in a private jet all around the world. Is that not enough?" he shouts at her, he kept walking closer and closer to her, backing her up until she was against a wall. All the other drivers followed, Lando even trying to pull George back by his wrist was was flicked off the second there was contact.

"George" Alex starts, not liking how close he was. But with all the commotion and all the shouting, Toto also decided to join the group of drivers surrounding you. Shouting and asking why you'd left Mercedes for Red Bull.

In the state of things your mind couldn't keep up with everything that was being thrown at you, your voice was week as you quality started to beg them to stop. Your hands came up over your ears everything getting too much. Tears were forming in your eyes, and your legs gave out as your back slid down the wall, your shaking form now on the floor.

"EVERYONE BACK UP" you hear as voice shout. Within seconds someone is helping you up, while helping you to walk to the garage.

"Hey hey hey, its okay, its okay" Christian says to you as he holds your shaking body, hugging you tightly to your chest while brushing your hair comfortingly.

"I I" you stutter not not actually be able to breath.

"He shouldn't have said that you, and the others should have done more to stop him. I'm sorry i wasn't there. Max came and got me, I told him to come back here" he explained as you sobbed more into his chest.

The thought of someone who was once your friend turning on you saying such horrible and disgusting things about you, was something you didn't think you'd ever have to experience.

"Maybe he's right though" you said in a small voice.

"No he's not and tomorrow with Max will prove that to you" he smiles, getting up and holding his hand out for her.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08

Just a reminder I am a minor free or minors do not interact blog, if you are a minor please do not interact!

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #george russel imagine #george russel x reader #george russell x you #george russell #george russell imagine #george russell smut

[sadbenedict]

common questions about Au

received a lot of questions from @chokehoe /thank you very much :D/ to make it more interesting, I've made it into a topic, and I've made some sketches! hope you enjoy!

So for your au where gojo locks geto in his basement, dose geto hate gojo now? Like I can imagine and understand why because he locked him away in basement, but I need to know.

This is a question I've answered before /You can search the hashtag, I could write more about it there/

He takes offence to it, of course, I don't think anyone would like someone locking you up. He still has love, Satoru is not a stranger to him after all, but there will be resentment. I think by the time Yuji shows up, their relationship will be very strained

Also does suguru use Yuji to get himself out? I feel bad for Yuji if so because then he’s gonna be stuck in the middle of that whole fiasco

I think he might take advantage of Yuji's kindness /oh yeah, manipulative Geto/ I think he'll want to get Yuji to take something from Satoru's room / and Yuji will have doubts about Gojo's mental stability/ If Satoru spots him, it's gonna be really creepy….

Was gojo just going to keep suguru locked in his basement forever, or did he have some other plan like suguru becoming a teacher?

I don't think he has any plan since he did it all on emotion. And I don't think Satoru will let him go anywhere now. Maybe he'll try to re-educate him /or maybe he's just calming himself down with these thoughts of re-educating/

Dose suguru have a plan for what he’s going to do if he does get out. Are nanako and mimiko ok in this one?

I think Suguru is just thinking about escaping right now. But even if he does, Satoru can easily find him by scent, will he have enough time to go somewhere before Satoru realises he's escaped? And if he is caught, will Satoru become even more insane? Suguru could also end his life if he realises that he has no other choice /I don't miss that thought/.

Nanako and Mimiko gone and are doing the same things they do in canon

Does anyone else know he’s down there, either by gojo telling them or by finding out by accident?

So far, only Shoko and Yuji know. I'll mention that the action takes place after the alley when Satoru "ki-lled" Suguru. Shoko knows because she healed Suguru /yeah, glued his arm on, that's just how I want it to be/. I think Shoko accepted since Satoru probably scared her, and she doesn't want to lose Suguru. But she probably wasn't surprised by Satoru's decision. To put it shortly

Maybe Megumi and Nobara will start to suspect something if Yuji !accidentally! says something XD like

Yuji: ...haha, yeah, like that strange guy in sensei's basement. Meg/Nob: what

Yuji: what

Also, I can’t stop imagining if the basement was the laundry and gojo & suguru are having some deep conversation and all you hear is the washing machine going in the background.

omg it's interesting! I pictured this place as where Gojo dragged Yuji to. Because, in theory, it could have held Suguru. But maybe then he moved it to another location, as you suggested, or converted this basement into a more habitable space. That's how I imagine this

/the room is quite small, I drew it like this for easy reference/

Has megumi or tsumuki walked into the basement because they needed something and just found suguru there and just didn’t know what to do so they just walked out, or do they not know? I feel like it would be funny but also creepy if they found suguru there because like the laundry used to be down there or something

Oh, this is gonna be really creepy XD I actually like this idea!

I think they'll get very scared and Megumi will probably encourage Nobaru not to ask Gojo since he heard from him about his ex-friend /understood from Gojo's description/ Since it's very strange and creepy, so better not to trigger Satoru

Why was gojos first thought to lock suguru in a basement in the first place?

I think he just realised that Suguru wouldn't be around him normally. And yeah, and he was determined to kill him.

Again, he did everything on emotion and from a selfish point of view. Also, I think he was just tired and just wanted to be around him all the time

@tug-tries-to-draw @morgraythedark @ediblespider @dreamhusbando @myssteriouss-wanderrerr you had similar questions, so I hope you find the answers here! If there are any more, I'll be happy to answer them! ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝

#au #basement au #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fanart #jujutsu kaisen #jjk jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujutsu itadori #suguru geto #jjk geto #geto suguru #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #art #digital #digital art #fanart

[separatist-apologist]

My Whole Life Is Ruined

Summary: When you hold me, it holds me together, and you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

Surprise @talons-and-teeth! I'm sorry for the wait- I was not your original secret santa. I pulled this together based on what I know about you and I hope you like it! @acotargiftexchange

Big thanks to @octobers-veryown for making a moodboard with practically no instructions other than one Taylor Swift lyric and the description "Azriel has been hiding the fact he's Gwyn's mate and they have sex about it."

--

Insomnia was nothing new. 

Gwyn couldn’t remember the last time she’d fully slept through the night. The past chased the present, running in circles as she ran after her tail, almost grasping it before she woke covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Sometimes, bathed in nothing but moonlight, Gwyn wondered if there would ever come a time when she didn’t dream of her sister, of a life long gone.

It didn’t rattle her as badly as it used to. Sitting in the bed Nesta had so graciously offered up, Gwyn pushed the blankets from her legs to let the cool, winter air caress her overheated skin. Leaving the library still felt like a picked over wound. She didn’t want to go back, cloistered away from her friends and the life she’d begun to enjoy living. That didn’t mean she wasn’t scared.

Anxiety seemed to thrum beside her heartbeat, a constant presence she could only just shake if she was otherwise occupied. Right then, in the dead of night, Gwyn felt it snake around her until it was wrapped tight around her throat, choking a scream that always seemed so close to escaping.

She didn’t bother changing out of her thin nightdress, certain neither Cassian or Nesta would be up this late. If they were even back—they’d gone to Hewn City that evening for some meeting with a Day Court prince, giving Gwyn full run of the House of Wind. Not that she did anything terribly interesting with all that power—Gwyn got a book and some hot chocolate and spent the night curled in a chair reading until she finally dragged herself into bed.

Maybe she should have trained on the roof first. Really worn herself down so her brain was too exhausted to conjure up memories of the past, all the while whispering of how she might have prevented it, if she’d only been stronger, smarter, cleverer. Forcing her to relive it, to pick it apart to see what could have been different.

That was exhausting, too.

Cold air hit her the moment she pushed open the door, howling a greeting that might have scared someone else off. Gwyn liked the biting cold, the raucous yelling, the silhouette of the mountains looming like shadows in the distance. A half moon poured light over the rooftop, causing sleeping weapons to glint beneath. Maybe, she thought ruefully, she should have put on socks. Hair caught against her lips, and as Gwyn worked to push it out of her face, wishing for a hair tie, too. 

It wasn’t too late and yet she was already here, wasn’t she? Might as well just power through, ignoring her discomfort like she was so accustomed to. The bite of cold was a reminder she’d survived—she was alive. So what if it burned a little? Sometimes Gwyn thought she fought better when she was in pain.

And more often than not, she suspected she deserved to feel it. That the curling peace was a mistake and everyone was going to realize what an imposter she was. They’d tell her she didn’t belong with them and cast her back out. Gwyn was always just waiting for it, a hammer that might fall at any given moment. 

A blade just against her neck, never quite striking.

Gwyn pulled out a dagger, her favored weapon, and held it for a moment in her hand. Nesta was all brute strength, and Emerie terrifying yet easy grace, but Gwyn liked to be the shadow in the dark. The knife at someone's side rather than a screaming sword coming for a person's throat. While Nesta and Emeries radiated the kind of beauty that made men cower, Gwyn liked to think she was sweeter, more unassuming. People looked at Nesta, at Emerie, and were taken by their perfection.

They looked at Gwyn and wondered why she was with them. So Gwyn trained harder, made herself someone that couldn’t be ignored. Not forever, anyway. She was good at hiding, besides, taking to trees, blending into the background so often that on more than one occasion, Cassian and Nesta didn’t realize Gwyn was in the room until she cleared her throat. 

Unbalanced, Gwyn took a second dagger and for a moment, was the wind itself. Recalling the movements Azriel had been teaching her, Gwyn stepped like a dance, twisting her body and slashing her blades against invisible foes.

A real ones, too. A shadow moved from the edge of the ring, catching her by surprise. Gwyn darted, and just as Azriel had taught her, grabbed them, slamming their body to the ground. It was thunder the way that massive, familiar form crashed against the world, a mighty god dragged from the heavens themselves.

Azriel groaned, eyes closed even as his hands grabbed her waist, holding her knee painfully against his ribs. “That was good,” he gasped, fingers curling into her skin. 

“I’m so sorry,” she replied, dropping the blade she’d pressed to his throat. A thin line of blood snaked over golden, tattooed skin, staining the rather lovely black jacket he was wearing. Why was he up here, she wondered? Shouldn’t he be enjoying himself with his friends and family? 

Azriel swallowed hard, opening hazel eyes that cut through the otherwise oppressive dark to look at her.

“I’m not.”

And then he released her, letting her scramble backwards, heart thumping in her chest. Azriel didn’t move, wings spread wide around against the ground. He looked like a fallen angel and Gwyn was awed at the sight, the realization that it had been her who’d felled him. He was looking right back at her, his expression clouded by shadow. Was he angry? He said he wasn’t, but surely he didn’t appreciate being assaulted in his own home. 

Not that she saw much of him since she’d moved in. Azriel, who maintained a bedroom in the House of Wind, was suddenly gone and when Gwyn was really down, she sometimes thought it was because he didn’t like being around her. Here he was, though, clambering to his feet, his eyes sliding down her body. She could feel the heat of them like he was touching her skin and was grateful for a sudden burst of wind hitting her like a bucket of ice water.

Careful, she warned herself. 

It was hard, though. Anyone with eyes could see how beautiful Azriel was. She wasn’t stupid. It didn’t hurt that in her worst moment, Azriel’s had been the very first she’d seen. A savior—a dark angel, come to wreak bloody vengeance on her sister's behalf. It had been Morrigan who’d taken her away to safety, but when Gwyn thought about how she’d escaped, she always remembered Azriel’s curved, lethal blade, sliding cleanly through the bodies of the same males who had killed her sister.

She’d always been grateful to him for it, even if she’d never tell him. He’d never once looked at her like he remembered, had never betrayed an ounce of pity. She’d expected him to say something back when he’d first joined their training, wary and distant. And maybe he knew, because he kept his distance until it was safe, had held himself at an arm's length and let her decide how much or little of him she wanted. 

The problem was Azriel himself. Outside of being the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, he was just nice. Not in the way Cassian was, with big smiles and silly jokes, but with serious eyes and a dagger in hand, forcing her to move again and again and again. Your steps are off, Gwyn—you’ll get yourself killed that way. Eyes on your opponent, don’t look away. Hold your breath, don’t let them know you’re there.

Because he knew it mattered to her. That she wouldn’t be caught off guard ever again, that Gwyn would never let someone hurt her. Often, she wondered if he didn’t understand that pain, if it didn’t mirror some tragedy of his own. They didn’t talk about it—they didn’t need to. It was an understanding between them, something so intimate she would never share it with another living soul.

She kept waiting for Azriel to step back, to tell her she’d done enough, that she should finish with Cassian. He never did. Even when he was gone, Gwyn practiced knowing he’d want to see the progress she’d made while he was gone. And when he returned, he’d wait on the roof even when she’d flippantly told him it would be easier to just send word via letter.

I don’t mind waiting.

Those words still felt so charged to her. Like he was trying to say something else, eyes glittering and bright like the stars overheard. Gwyn pulled herself from her thoughts to look up at Azriel looming overhead, his wings flared around him as if he was trying to make himself seem larger. It was working—he was massive, muscular and tall and just like before, half fallen angel, half terrifying god come to earth so he might reign. 

“You look cold,” Azriel commented, caught looking at her. 

Gwyn put her hands on her hips. So what if he was? “I’m not.”

“Bullshit.”

Smothering a smile, Gwyn asked with faux outrage, “Are you calling me a liar?”

She swore the corners of his lips twitched. “To your face, even.”

“The cold doesn’t bother me,” Gwyn said, shifting from one leg to another, a gesture he seemed to register with sharp-eyed interest. Proof, she realized as his fingers began making quick work of his jacket. “No, that’s not—”

“Suck it up,” was Azriel’s dark voiced response, draping the warm jacket against her shoulders, leaving himself only in a black shirt stretched over his muscular torso. His eyes slid back down to her legs, lips flattening as he realized she was without shoes, too. “You’ll catch your death out here.”

Gwyn could smell the heady, masculine scent of him coming from the fabric, her arms far too small for the large holes. Still, she didn’t protest, turning to look toward the outline of the mountains instead.

“Maybe. But what a way to go.”

“It’s hardly heroic to die from the cold,” Azriel murmured, turning to follow her gaze. Did he know what she was thinking? How they had nearly died in the blood rite, thrown in wearing only a thin night dress against well-armed warriors? She wondered if Azriel would have found that heroic, even if it had been the cold that had gotten them.

Gwyn blew out a breath, the steam of air curling between them as one of his shadows darted out, illuminated by starlight. It wasn’t the first time and she wondered if they thought she, too, had a shadow for them to interact with.

Or if it meant something else.

Something more.

“Inside,” Azriel finally said, a gust of wind ruffling his night dark hair.

“You’re fussy tonight,” she grumbled, not protesting when his fingers pressed against the small of her back, pushing her toward the door. Heat pulsated from the touch, settling low in her stomach. “Did something happen?”

Azriel pulled open the door with his free hand, his touch never quite leaving. “No. Hewn City is unchanging.”

She glanced up at him, the light softening the harsh lines of his face. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s predictable.”

“I want to see it,” Gwyn declared, though in truth she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. Still, the corners of Azriel’s mouth twitched a bit, as if the whole thing amused him. 

“You would devour them,” was his easy, good-natured response. “To their endless delight.”

“And yet I’ve been snubbed yet again,” she teased, elbowing him gently in the ribs. “Do I file my complaint with you…or…?”

“You were spared the grating presence of Vanserra,” Azriel said, cocking his head with a half smile. “But I will pass along your discontent to the High Lord.”

“Be sure that you do,” Gwyn replied, grinning by the time Azriel deposited her into a chair in the study. He didn’t go far, sitting on the arm, his wings draped behind them. She could see the flexing muscle of his thigh beneath his well-tailored pants. If she’d wanted, she could have touched him.

It was obscene how badly she wanted to. How she had to clench her fingers to fists to keep from reaching out, well aware that Azriel would withdraw entirely and, perhaps, never speak to her again. He’d been nothing if not unfailingly polite, besides…though…he had been looking at her in the clingy, short nightdress, hadn’t he? 

Just because you were cold, her mind reminded her. After all, she was still wearing his jacket. Gwyn shrugged out of it, heat blooming over her cheeks as she shoved it into his lap. There. She’d gotten to touch him without him knowing and give him back his jacket before she convinced herself to keep it.

And possibly sleep in it.

Azriel arched a dark brow, hazel eyes staring at the rumpled fabric now balled in his lap. “What did the jacket do to offend you?” he asked, taking it in broad, callused hands. He’d removed his siphons, leaving the scarred skin wholly on display. She wondered what had happened to him—and why. 

If he’d ever gotten his revenge for it.

“It’s yours—that’s enough,” she replied flippantly. Holding her gaze, Azriel picked up the jacket and brought it to his nose. Time seemed to stop, frozen entirely as she watched him do this.

And he watched her, daring her to say something. She opened her mouth, gaping, only to close it.

And Azriel smiled. Broad and unrestrained, as if he were so delighted he couldn’t help himself. Tilting his head toward the roof, he murmured, “House—some tea, if you don’t mind.”

Of course the house didn’t mind. Two cups of steaming tea rattled on the coffee table before them, complete with sugar and honey, if either of them wanted it.

Gwyn didn’t think she could pick up a cup without betraying the rattle of her hands. Why? Azriel had discarded the jacket casually, tossing it to another chair like it was uninteresting to him. And was he closer, now? His thigh was, she was certain, but had his arm always been behind her. If she moved a few inches, he could have slid into the seat to join her.

He could pull you into his lap if he wanted. 

Which, of course, he didn’t

Didn’t he?

“Why are you here?” she asked, hating that breathless quality of her voice. Azriel heard it, too, head snapping to the side, nose flared as though searching for something she couldn’t place. 

“I like to be near you,” he replied. He could have thrown her across the room and surprised her less. Once again, Gwyn opened her mouth only for no sound to leave her throat. 

“You—you’re never here,” she finally managed. Azriel leaned forward, the faelights gilding the dark ink of his tattoos scrawled over his biceps. He took one of the cups and handed it to her, fingers brushing her own.

“I can’t stand being around you,” was his maddening, level response. 

Gwyn’s stomach sank. “What?”

She couldn’t drink—not when such a strange admission hung between them. Azriel, so unused to verbosity, was now forced to explain himself. It occurred to her just as he turned fully to look at her, some of the color drained from his otherwise beautiful face, that perhaps he wanted this confrontation. She didn’t, though, and wished she could have told him so. Things were fine between them—distant, maybe, and filled with a lopsided yearning on her end, but that was better than whatever he was about to do.

Gwyn had the distinct feeling Azriel was about to crush her. Emotionally ruin her. Destroy her so recklessly there would be no coming back.

“You still don’t feel it?” he asked instead, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “After all this time?”

A new fear speared through her gut. There was only one thing Azriel could possibly feel—and one thing she could possibly not. Gwyn had to set the shaking cup of tea down before bolting from her chair, arms wrapped around her chest. 

“You don’t feel anything,” she declared, deciding if she felt nothing, neither did Azriel. 

Pain lanced across his expression, replaced by grim determination. As he stood, Gwyn knew Azriel wasn’t going to let it go until they both felt exactly as he did—until she felt the mating bond. 

Gwyn shook her head, backing away as he advanced. “Don’t do this, Azriel—”

“Is it that terrible, then?” he asked her, his low words filled with a familiar emotion. One she recognized all too well—the loathing, the self-hatred, the expectation that of course she would reject him. 

“It’s—” Gwyn couldn’t breathe for the closeness of him, for the wanting to touch him. And maybe she did feel it, in her way. Had felt it the moment he’d strode into that cursed, wrecked room looking like the god of vengeance. She’d merely been too hurt to know it, too broken, too emotionally devastated. He should have frightened her and he never had.

Even then, towering over her with his muscular frame, Gwyn didn’t flinch away. She merely met his gaze with blazing defiance.

“You’re wrong,” she told him, keeping her voice light as she pushed at his chest so she could slip around him. “Or mistaken. There is no bond and I’m certain if you saw a healer, they’d—” Azriel grabbed her wrist, spinning her so her back was pressed to the floral papered wall behind her. Dipping his head, Azriel ran his nose the length of her neck.

“You’re no mistake, Gwyn.”

“I am,” she whispered without meaning to. Azriel could do so much better. Surely…surely he wanted better. What had that been like for him, she wondered, and before she could stop herself, she added, “When did you feel it?”

Something primal flared in those bright eyes of his. “Dinner with Nesta and Cassian. You touched my hand and I…” Holding up the offending hand, Azriel flexed his fingers in memory. “I felt the snap.”

That had been almost a year. It had been the last time Azriel had dinner with all of them, and right after she’d formally moved into the House of Wind. Gwyn still remembered that night—Azriel had bolted before dessert, murmuring something about needed to talk to Rhys. Gwyn had thought nothing of it—might never have thought about it again had he not pinned her against a wall to declare that had been the moment he’d felt a mating bond snap. 

“We’ve been training together for months,” she replied with no small amount of outrage. He’d been keeping this secret for that long? 

“I thought you’d feel it,” Azriel all but growled, eyes bouncing over her face. “And when you didn’t…”

“Rhys knows?”

“And Cassian—”

“So Nesta, too?!”

Gwyn shoved him again, harder this time. Azriel let her, she suspected, stepping back so she could have some breathing space. “They all know but I don’t.”

“And you’re taking the knowledge so well,” Azriel replied with a bite of sarcasm.

She whirled, wishing she had a dagger in hand even has the dried blood from his healed wound still taunted her. “I think I deserved to know before Cassian.”

“I needed his help,” Azriel admitted, running a hand over his mouth. “I needed to know how he managed it.”

“How difficult could it be,” she asked flippantly, intending to leave him there so she could think. Foolish to turn her back on a predator. Azriel had her again, wrapped in one strong arm, the other holding her jaw so she had to look at him.

“Hell,” he rasped, his anguish plain. “Every minute of it has been hell.” 

In Gwyn’s defense, she managed one, final, protest. “It’s just—”

His mouth covered hers before she could finish that statement, could say what they both knew she’d been thinking. As if he found the words so abhorrent he wouldn’t hear them, would swallow them until he’d snuffed them from their very existence.

Gwyn forgot what she’d been about to say at all. She’d thought about what it might be like to kiss him. If his mouth would be soft or rough, if he kissed like he fought or if there was passion bubbling beneath his icy exterior. She hadn’t been prepared for what it would feel like or how desire would overtake her so thoroughly she didn’t care about anything else. Were those her hands cupping his neck? Her lips hungrily kissing him back like a crazed, desperate creature?

Her tongue meeting his own, her legs moving until he had her back against the wall so he could press the length of his body against hers? 

There was only one thought in her name, an echo repeated over and over. Mate. Mate. Mate. 

Maybe he should have just kissed her at that dinner. Skipped the yearning, the anguish, the uncertainty. At least they would have been kissing, anyway. Gwyn forgot herself entirely, nails digging against his shoulder until Azriel helpfully hoisted her into the air so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

“Don’t talk about my mate like that,” he panted, dragging his teeth against her neck. “I love her.”

Gwyn whimpered. What did she say to that? As it turned out—nothing. Azriel kissed her again, sparing them both whatever incoherent nonsense might have tumbled from her lips. She might have sworn she loved him too, if only to convince him to keep kissing her like he was.

Gwyn was certain Azriel’s kiss had ruined her life. How was she supposed to go back to things as they were before? It wasn't knowing that he was her mate, but knowing the way his hands felt cupped against her face and the way wildfire sparked in her blood when his tongue slid into her mouth? 

The worst of it was when his hands left her ass, letting her slide down the hard slab of his body before she was ready. He pulled away, lips swollen and eyes wild, to take a healthy step away from her, though it seemed to take an immense amount of effort. For her part, she kept herself pressed to the wall, unsure what was happening.

“You know now,” Azriel managed, his voice hoarse, “and that’s…that’s all I wanted. I ah…I should go before—”

“You’re leaving?” she asked, strangely hurt by this new rejection. Gwyn knew all about mating bonds. What fae didn’t? Before she’d come here, she’d once dreamt of her own mate, giggling with her sister in their bunks as they imagined what that person might be like. If they existed at all, given the rarity of such a thing. It was almost funny that he’d been right here all along, close enough she could literally touch. 

And he was going to leave? He didn’t want to accept it? Did she? It was all happening so fast but of course you didn’t reject a mate. She could see the wariness on his face, could watch in real time as he pulled up his defenses as she realized that yes. That was exactly his expectation.

Why? She knew from Nesta’s stories that Azriel was well sought after. And she wasn’t blind. What female didn’t dream of a male with his bone structure? He was powerful and close to the High Lord, and beyond all that, Azriel was kind. A genuinely good person, the sort of male one could spend centuries with if they wanted.

What could she even offer him? Gwyn’s thoughts raced, listing all the reasons he ought to have stopped, why keeping this a secret made so much sense. She didn’t notice Azriel creeping closer and closer until his fingers were under her chin, lifting her face so she had to look at him. 

“You’re doing it again,” he murmured, his voice dark and dangerous. “Thinking unkind thoughts about my mate.”

“You can’t tell me what to think,” she shot back, her own voice trembling a little. He was so certain, so unbothered and in her entire life, had anyone ever immediately felt that way about her?

Nesta and Emerie. Catrin. 

Azriel.

“You have it all wrong,” Azriel murmured and she wondered if perhaps he could read her mind. “It is you who could do so much better.”

His words drew a gust of laughter from her lips. The mother had certainly chosen well, putting the two of them together. What a pair—she wondered who would relent first? Her, or Azriel? Who would believe they deserved a mating bond first? It occurred to Gwyn, as she reached for his arm to pull him closer, that she was a shade too competitive—she wanted it to be him who broke first. Who relented first, who believed he was worthy, was deserving. 

And she could see, from that golden glint burning in his own gaze, that he was thinking the exact same thing. 

“You’re stupid,” she whispered, surging up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. She could taste the smile spreading over his face, sweet against the warm heat of his mouth. It took her an embarrassing amount of time to realize he wasn’t smiling because she’d told him to stop talking, but because she was kissing him. Gwyn hadn’t even considered not kissing.

He was her mate, after all. He was hers. She felt that the way she felt her own heart, the possession, the desire, the heat. She didn’t feel the cord the way everyone spoke of, but perhaps that was mere metaphor. After all, Gwyn believed Azriel wouldn’t lie to her about something so life altering.

Besides. She liked kissing him, new as it was. Azriel was unhurried and thorough, just like every other task she’d ever seen him undertake. And for the first time in a long time, she wondered what it would be like if he paid her that sort of attention in the bedroom. They stood there like that, his arm keeping her on her toes, steady against his warm, solid body. Momentarily, Gwyn wondered what might happen if Nesta and Cassian were to come in and decided she didn’t care.

How many times had she walked in on them in far more compromising positions, besides? 

Tiny steps had Gwyn flush against the wood wall, pressed against Azriel’s hard body and oh. He wanted her. Wanted her in a way that emptied her mind of all other thought beyond the desire to touch him.

And she was allowed, she realized with giddiness. He belonged to her. It was a possessive thought that overrode everything else, including all her good sense. He was hers.

“Mine,” she whispered into his mouth, not meaning to. Azriel groaned, tangling a hand in her hair to tilt back her head, his tongue delving back between her teeth to really taste her. Without the leathers he usually wore, it was surprisingly easy to find the golden buttons on his jacket, undoing them before Azriel’s own brain seemed to catch up with what was happening.

His wings flared, enveloping around them for a moment as he pulled back, his breathing heavy.

“Cassian will be home soon,” he whispered, holding her close against him as if he expected his friend to take her away. “Nesta too.” “You have a bedroom here, right?” Gwyn said with more daring than she felt. Azriel’s once half-lidded eyes flew open, those hazel eyes searching her own. 

“I do,” he whispered, swallowing audibly. “There’s no rush—”

“Please?”

One moment she’d been standing there, her hand flat against the white, linen shirt Azriel wore beneath his jacket and the next her feet were in the air, her body cradled against him as he walked.

“I can’t think when you’re around,” Azriel was saying, his steps echoing against the wood. “Can’t think just looking at you. Sometimes I think I’ll wake up and this will have all been a dream.”

“It’s real,” she replied, pressing her lips to his neck. “I’m real. We’re real.”

He shuddered, all but running up a flight of stairs. There was no reaction when his wing clipped a door frame nor did he say a word when he had to use his nice shoe to slam his bedroom door shut. Gwyn wasn’t given the opportunity to really look around his space, either—though it seemed sparse and filled with dark, moody colors. 

Azriel had her on the bed, his own body over top her own before she could exhale the breath she’d just taken. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said, the maddening male. She would have told him she didn’t want him to, but he was kissing her again, his burning lips all but bruising her own. Drawing a leg up, Gwyn could line up their otherwise mismatched bodies so he was pressed exactly where she wanted him. 

They were going to do this. She wanted to do this. When she managed to take a breath, the taste of blood faint against her tongue, she rasped, “Take this off.”

Azriel was on his knees in a moment, shucking off his jacket before all but ripping off his shirt, too. There in the dark with nothing but silvery moonlight to illuminate him, Gwyn was allowed to really look at him. 

He didn’t move, a lock of dark hair half obscuring the intensity of his gaze. “All of it,” she decided before she lost her nerve. 

Azriel cocked his head, his lips pursed as though he’d tell her no.

“Please,” she added.

Azriel groaned again, softer this time. Somewhere in the house, a door slammed closed and a mingling of male and female voices rose like music, a soothing hum in the background as Azriel slid off the bed entirely.

Wings tucked tightly against his toned back, he quietly locked his door before turning back to her. “We don’t have to,” he said, his fingers hovering over the laces of his pants. Gwyn had a suspicion Azriel would spend the next century saying this and she’d spend the next century  reassuring him that she wanted all of it. All of him.

Maybe he’d realize in the morning when she snuck into the kitchen and begged the house for his favorite meal. She had no idea what it was, but surely the magic that governed this place did? Would he eat it from her hands? Or would he balk, certain this was just another dream?

“I know,” she said, leaning up on her elbows. “Take it all off, anyway.”

Gwyn knew what Azriel was wondering but her past was murky—forgotten in the dark, the ugly replaced with his easy, unassuming beauty. Still, she held her breath as he undressed entirely, drinking in the sight of him. This was the male she’d knocked to the ground, the very same that could kill another person without a second thought.

Underneath the thick, armored leathers and weapons lay just a male made of skin and bone. Gwyn’s eyes traced the tattoos adorning his shoulders and chest, the intricate swirls snaking up his neck and vanishing behind his back. Every inch of him was muscled, softer now that he was relaxed and still present just below the warm brown of his flesh.

And between his legs…

Gwyn giggled. She couldn’t help herself. It was so big—surely they weren’t supposed to be that large? That thick? There was an air of male pride shimmering around him, his legs spread a little wider as if to say, drink it all in. 

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked, his voice a dark, teasing growl. Prowling forward, Gwyn’s heart spiked loud enough he must have heard.

“I wasn’t prepared for…” For what? For him? Azriel was so quiet, so unassuming…she just assumed if he had all that going on he’d brag a little more? Swagger about the way Cassian always was? 

“I’d be a poor mate if I left you wanting,” he replied, his eyes glazed over once his knees hit the edge of the bed. Perhaps it was the sight of her, still dressed, scrambling on her hands and knees so she could crawl toward him. She just wanted to touch, to feel if his cock was as hard as it looked. 

Azriel sucked in a breath when her fingers curled around the base of his shaft, just barely touching. Looking up, she murmured, “Is this what you like?”

“I like you,” he replied, scooping up her hair in his hands as Gwyn stroked him experimentally. He choked out a sound, his heartbeat thudding in her ears. She supposed that was her answer—he liked the way she touched him.

Pride filled her chest knowing she could please her mate, even with something as simple as touching him. Gwyn stroked again, letting her wrist twist at the end as her eyes refused to leave his face.

“Gods,” he whispered, his wings tightening against his back. “I’ve imagined…Gwyn…”

She was allowed a third pass before he pushed her back, her clothes pulled off her body so quickly all she managed was to lift her hips and raise her arms. 

“Do you know how many nights I’ve laid in this exact bed and imagined you just like this?” Azriel began, his voice a dark, sultry whisper. “Splayed out…naked…undone?”

“No,” she squeaked out in response, half embarrassed to be undressed before him. Azriel’s gaze burned against her skin, warming a path from her collarbone to her thighs. 

“Would you like to know what I dream about at night?” he questioned, sinking to his knees so he was eye level with the edge of the bed. 

Arousal ribboned through her, making a fool out of her. “Yes,” she replied, strangely excited to be the object of this man’s fantasies. 

Strong, scarred fingers curled around her thighs, pushing them wider before hooking them over his shoulders. He was staring at her cunt, now, studying her like she was some priceless piece of art. 

“I dream of tasting you,” Azriel breathed, the warmth of his breath fanning against her. Gwyn squirmed when he kissed her inner thigh—the left, and then the right—before using his tongue to lightly take that first taste he’d been dreaming of. Gwyn might have asked him how he liked it had it not felt so good. 

Besides, she knew he liked it—Azriel groaned loudly, spreading her apart wider with his fingers so he could taste her everywhere. Gone was his slow exploration, his desire to take his time. All of it had been replaced with the animal kneeling between her legs, licking and touching her cunt like his life depended on it. 

All traces of her embarrassment evaporated, leaving only instinct behind. Gwyn surrendered to the urge, letting desire wash over her until it was all she knew. “Don’t stop,” she breathed, well aware he probably couldn’t. 

Azriel pushed a finger into her gently, moaning at whatever he felt. Gwyn hadn’t considered what it would feel like to share space with him—to feel him inside her own body but now…

“Az,” she panted, her hips rolling against his mouth and hand. She wanted him to stop licking, to replace his fingers with his cock. Heat was building in her chest beyond simple arousal, heavy like a chain. 

Unbreakable.

A bond. A real thread she could follow straight to the male between her legs. It reverberated and then snapped just as Azriel sucked her clit into his mouth, eliciting a scream that was half his name. Could he feel it too? No—his had snapped months ago and he’d just been living with it.

Gwyn couldn’t see how. If she didn’t have him right that second she might go insane. Reaching for his powerful biceps, Gwyn tried to pull him off her but the waves of pleasure made her hands shake. 

“Az,” she tried again, his name a breathy moan against her lips. Her hips moved of their own accord, grinding against him in what must have seemed like encouragement to keep going. Maybe it was—she didn’t try very hard to get him off her.

Azriel managed a third finger, a whine slipping from his throat at the effort. Gwyn just barely registered any of it, her body jerking a second time from pleasure so bright and heady she could have died from it. It was too much—Gwyn was burning, was in free-fall with no one to catch her.

Digging her nails into his skin, she yanked at him. Azriel emerged, lips wet and eyes wild. “Please,” she heard herself saying, the magic words that, apparently, could convince him to do anything she wanted. “I need you.”

His fingers were wet as they skimmed the side of her body, palm grasping her breast before his lips found hers. He tasted sweet and she supposed it was herself, truly, she was tasting on his tongue. He was hurried, his desperation making him sloppy. When his teeth clashed with her own, nipping the sensitive skin of her bottom lip, Gwyn had enough.

“Az—”

“Don’t beg me,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against her own. Caressing her cheek, Azriel added, “I’ll do whatever you want. You don’t have to beg.”

“I feel it,” she replied, running her hand up and down his spine. “It’s a real thread.”

Azriel exhaled with relief, a smile ghosting his pretty face. Whispering something that sounded like gratitude toward the gods, he adjusted his body until she felt the blunt head of his cock pressed against her. How had he stood it? The waiting, the wanting, the utter need that Gwyn was all but drowning in. If they didn’t do this, she thought she might die from it. 

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you.” It wasn’t a request, though Gwyn had no intention of telling him anything. She expected a little pain, expected little pleasure. Why else had he used his mouth first? 

Gwyn had read enough books to know that there was blood and pain and so when Azriel slid himself an inch into her, she braced herself against him, her nails digging into his biceps. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for even a hint of discomfort. There was something reassuring about knowing he’d stop if she wanted. That he cared if she enjoyed herself. 

Gwyn didn’t need a book to know not all males cared about such things.

Azriel took his time—like he knew he had eons of it, that he didn’t have to rush. Gwyn loved him for it, eyes burning with unshed tears at the thought. She’d tell him all this later, when they’d had a chance to breathe and eat and really talk about everything that had otherwise been left unsaid. Instead she dragged her lips down his neck and focused on the feeling of his cock in her body, pushing further and further without any of the accompanying pain she’d expected.

She was slick enough that he felt less like an intrusion and more like a welcomed guest, and once he’d seated himself entirely, it seemed as though they’d been made like two puzzle pieces destined to fit. 

It took a moment to get used to the stretch, to breathe despite the feeling of fullness. Azriel gave it to her instinctively, as if he knew exactly what she both wanted and needed. There was that same sense of I have all the time in the world, despite her knowing he was desperate. A bead of sweat slid from his temple, rolling down his neck and his arms shook from restraint.

He didn’t move. 

Not until her mouth made its way to his collarbone and she whispered, “Give me more.” He groaned loud enough to shatter the silence, pulling himself out with a slowness that bordered on madness. 

“You’re so wet,” he whispered, burying his face into her neck. “I’m losing my mind.”

She couldn’t help the exhaled smile, raking her fingers through his hair. “Did you dream of this, too?”

“No,” he admitted with a grunt, sliding his cock back into her body. “I didn’t dare.”

“Why?”

“Couldn’t,” he managed, thrusting again with a little more intensity. “Would have gone crazy from wanting you. Surprised you couldn’t smell it on me.”

As if she would have known what she was smelling. There was no point in telling him so—not as Azriel confessed the depths of his devotion, the lengths he’d gone to give her time, space, and whatever else she’d wanted. Would he have continued to do so forever? 

Gwyn kissed his cheek. “I want you. I want this.”

He groaned again, sliding his hand between their otherwise flushed bodies to rub at her still swollen clit. She’d been half distracted by his words to pay attention to her body but right then, when his thumb began making tight circles, Gwyn was pulled back under the depths of shadowed darkness, half consumed by the male laying on top of her. 

Their mouths met, messy and unrestrained. Strange how kissing merely heightened the pleasure coiling through her—Gwyn wouldn’t have guessed that. In her books, everything was so neat and clinical. They kissed, they touched, they fucked with nothing in between. In real life, sex was messier, more fluid. Or maybe she and Azriel merely had more passion than the people in her stories.

Those love stories had once brought her such joy. Now they seemed dimmed in comparison to what was happening to her and her own feelings. 

“I need to feel you come,” he whispered, betraying how close he must have been. Gwyn felt the same way. She needed to feel him, needed to see him wholly unraveled. All because of her—no one else was allowed to know what he sounded like, what he looked like. They got control, they got the ice but she got the heat, the impulsivity—everything he was, everything he’d ever been. 

Gwyn came to the thought of that future, tightening around him as her back arched her into his chest, offering very little give. Azriel kissed her, swallowing the sound of her moans greedily. They belonged to him, anyway. 

He came mere seconds later, his own noise of pleasure delightfully loud for a male that was so often silent. Gwyn kept herself wrapped tight around him, arms winding against his neck, her teeth sinking into his shoulder. His pumping was erratic, uncontrolled and a little desperate. Gwyn was obsessed with this side of him—wanted more of it.

Azriel didn’t withdraw when he was done, his heart thudding against her breast. “It’s not enough, is it?” she whispered, thinking they both ought to feel sated. She didn’t. In her books, the heroine was always spent, the hero falling asleep not long after. The pair would wake in each other's arms, content and glowing from the night before.

Gwyn wanted to shove him to the floor and climb atop him. Wanted to hear him beg, too—wanted more of the whimpering, the groaning and everything in between.

“It was never going to be,” he panted, kissing her softly. 

“How long will it last?” she wondered, brushing a damp lock of hair from his face.

“Eternity, I imagine,” he replied, his eyes burning with that same unflinching intensity. “For me, at least.”

Gwyn’s heart exploded, racing in her throat. “Are you hungry?” she whispered, deciding she couldn’t wait for the morning. She wanted to do this right now. Wanted him to know that this meant something to her, even if she was scared, too. 

Azriel went still. “There’s no rush—”

“That’s yes or no, Azriel.”

A smile broke over his face. “Starving,” he admitted in that dark, sultry voice. 

“You have to get up,” she reminded him, pushing half-heartedly at his shoulder. Azriel lowered his mouth for another kiss.

“In a minute.”

Strange how a minute could stretch.

Into lifetimes, even.

#gwynriel #I DID IT

[scary-lasagna]

Hello, my friend! Hope you have a good day, just wanted to know if i could ask for a scenario for some yanderes (proxies or ej) with an s/o that has...wings..like angel wings and she can actually fly like birds. IDK it came in my mind and it just seemed..cool? Anyway you're writing is amaizing. Keep it up 🤍

Please ignore if you don't want to tho. (excuse my english also)

Yan!Masky

His precious little angel.

However, this one will not be flying anytime soon.

With satin rope, your wings burned greatly with the pressure of your shoulder blades scraping together.

No, no. Because if you flew away, he would never be able to catch you again.

But maybe one day, you hoped quietly. Maybe one day he would let you go. Your wings were yet to be clipped, so that glimmer of hope will always be with you.

You weren't sure who he was, or what you did to deserve this, but you were only thankful he hadn't killed you yet.

He barely talked, only grunted whenever you slipped out of place, followed by rough grasps and dragging you to where he wanted you to be.

And your living conditions could be worse, instead of an old creepy, and damp basement, you were allowed to stay in what looked to be a living room.

The wood planks lining the floor and walls of the tiny cabin, more so of a shack, looked too old to breathe the wrong way. But even being aged with time, they did their job protecting you against the elements while the masked man was away. The only furniture was a a beaten couch with a sheet thrown over it, and a worn-down chair that he sat in.

The satin rope didn't leave welts on your skin, and thankfully he was kind enough not to change them. But still, your beauty had been tampered by your tears, and the masked man was not happy with you for it.

Your wings were tied, and your hands held firmly behind your back with the same ribbon, the rope connected to your feet, and completed in a pretty white bow.

He never hurt you on purpose, but you suspected he simply needed company. Deep down, you had a feeling you'd die in here. If one day he left, and never returned, there was no hope to escape this place, and he knew it. Even if you managed a way out, the only way out of the forest is miles upon miles of walking considering your wings were bound.

The door clicked, and you were met with his icy stare. No hi nor hello as he approached you, kneeling

Masky had no heart to be mean to you, not after you've been so good for him.

"Good evening," You managed a smile. He nodded in response, and placed a gentle pair of knuckles on your chilled cheek marked with tear stains. He used the same hand to pull a can of ravioli out of his cargo jacket.

How nice of him. You thanked him and placed a kiss on the nose of the mask. He seemed satisfied and left to heat your can of pasta on the gas stove.

Maybe one day...

#yandere x reader #yandere #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta blog #creepypasta x reader #yandere creepypasta #masky x reader #yandere masky #tim wright

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Congrats on 1k! I'd love a little missing scene fic between 2x04 and 2x05 where Stede gives some much-needed TLC to Ed and all of his mutiny-sustained injuries during his first night back on the Revenge 🥺

YES this is my NICHE!! Get absolutely cared for and cherished Ed!

Send me a prompt and I'll write a 1k word fic!

--

Ed had a thousand half-baked plans swirling through his mind as they rowed back to the Revenge.

He didn’t think Stede understood just how badly the crew would surely want him to stay gone. Ed’s current top idea for their best strategy was to pretend that he had become stricken with malaria. He’d also once met a guy who claimed to have been able to cry blood on command, and he was hoping that maybe he could do that, if it came down to it.

Fuck, but he was tired.

He’d had a hell of a day, was the thing, and he’d kind of been relying on staying moving or otherwise letting himself just drift along, and now that he had to sit still, and it was getting dark and quiet, everything was starting to rush in.

His head was pounding, and it hurt so badly he could feel it in his teeth. His split lip stung. His arm had kept getting sorer, until now he really didn’t want to move it. If he had been lucky enough to avoid a couple broken ribs, they were sure as shit bruised.

Point was: he felt like warmed over shit, and he was beginning to suspect from Stede’s increasingly worried glances that he might’ve noticed.

Fortunately, all his planning turned out to be useless.

As they pulled alongside the ship, Olu’s face popped up over the side. “Fucking finally,” he said. “What’s taken you so long?”

“Well, we stopped by an antique shop for dinner, which burned down,” Stede filled him in, reaching out to steady the ladder Olu threw over the side, “and then Buttons turned into a bird.”

“Ed with you?”

Stede pursed his lips, looking at Ed over his shoulder. “Yes, he actually-”

“Jim says they want you to lock the cabin door tonight,” Olu said. “As a precaution.”

Olu’s head disappeared, and Ed just stared up open-mouthed. “Huh. Thought that’d be harder.”

“Well, I had a feeling.” Stede held the ladder steady, motioning for Ed to go first. “C’mon.”

Ed would never know how Stede managed to get him up the ladder, because the second he put his foot on it, the world went spinning away, and suddenly the sky was on the ground, and that certainly wasn’t good.

The next thing he knew, he was laying on the deck, and Stede was saying “give him some space, please,” in that bitchy tone Ed loved so much.

“‘M fine,” Ed mumbled.

“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England,” Jim muttered under their breath.

Ed let his eyes slip closed again, listening vaguely as Roach promised to bring a few first-aid supplies to the captain’s cabin.

“D’you want me to take care of him?” Roach asked.

Before Ed could even lift his head to say no, Stede was saying, “I’ve got it, don’t worry.”

Ed risked a peek around as Stede helped him up, supporting him with an arm around his waist as he led him towards the cabin. Fang gave him a genuine smile, but Frenchie wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Jim still glared at him.

“It’s okay,” Stede whispered into his ear. “You don’t have to worry about anything right now.”

Ed’s headache must have been worse than he thought, because he kind of drifted, half-conscious, as Stede got him seated on the couch. He heard Roach’s voice again, saw Stede sit something on the cushion next to him.

“I can take care of it myself,” Ed muttered half-heartedly.

“You don’t have to, though,” Stede said softly.

Ed sort of nodded, and the next thing he knew, Stede was sitting next to him, warm and real and there, and there was a soft cloth dabbing at the cuts on Ed’s cheeks.

Stede helped Ed shimmy out of his jacket and his shirt, whispering apologies when Ed cried out as that jostled him, and set to work soothing bruises and patching up cuts. The wound on his arm hurt like a bitch, but it thankfully wasn’t too deep for Stede to feel like he couldn’t stitch it up himself.

He should’ve felt more cautious, he knew, shouldn’t have been leaning into Stede’s side, halfway to nodding off, letting Stede see all the vulnerable bits of him so soon.

But Ed was tired, and everything hurt.

“Shh,” Stede kept soothing, so gentle and so earnest that Ed exaggerated a bit, whining like he’d never had worse pain before just so Stede would keep comforting him. “Only a bit longer, you’re doing so well.”

Roach had left something for the pain, a syrup that went down sweet as honey, and Ed was glad that Stede had taken over, because he might’ve kissed anyone who gave that to him out of sheer relief.

As it was, Ed was so tired he wound up just kind of mouthing at the side of Stede’s face.

Stede laughed, pulling Ed into his side, wrapping his arms around him, and the whole world went soft and steady. “Tomorrow,” Stede promised. “You can rest, now.”

Ed let his head rest on Stede’s shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, humming in delight at the feeling of Stede’s hand softly circling his waist to hold him steady.

He wasn’t looking forward to how he’d feel in the morning. He knew he’d be on unsteady footing, unsure what to say or how to say it, and Stede would probably come up with a whole speech for him to memorize for the crew, and that would go over like a lead balloon, he imagined. He wouldn’t know how to respond when the crew were upset or angry with him - as would be their right, of course. And he wouldn’t know how fast Stede would want things to move, or if he’d be angry with Ed, still, too, or…

Ed sighed, tucking his nose further into Stede’s neck, breathing in, just allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of Stede around him.

That was tomorrow. For now, he was safe.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #my fics

[youngstarfishphilosopher]

BUNNY . . . BUNNY . . . BUNNY . . .

(PLATONIC) GOTHAM!JERVIS TETCH X CHILD READER.

" Oh, you little bunny, I love you so. Stay with me .Oh, please don't go."

Summary: After being chosen to perform in one of your neighbors, Mr.Tetch's, performances. You find yourself in a new and unfamiliar place. That is, untill you see the face of your neighbor sitting across from you . . .

AN: Reader is on the younger side in this story (about 8-12)

Warning ⚠️: DARK FIC, Yandere Behavior, Kidnapping, Hynotizing, Child endangerment, Delusional behavior, Obsessive behavior, Stalking, Creepy Jervis Tetch, Injuries, Drugging

××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

Blinking your eyes open, you slowly lifted your head up as the ticking noise in your little ears began to slowly fade away. Your face was hot and sweaty. A feeling of panic washing over you as you find that there was something on your face.

A mask of sorts.

Trying to lift your hands and remov it, you only let out a shocked little cry of pain as you felt your wrists rub against the rough rope which ties each of your arms down tightly into the chair. Looking down, you could see the red marks slightly from underneath the rope.

Where were you? Where were your mom and dad?

" Well, well" Looking up while in an even more panicked state, you saw through the peephole of your mask, a very familiar man across from you. Looking at you with a dark, malicious fondness: A smile on his lips.

Of course.

You remembered now.

You and your family had gone to a small dinner show in your neighborhood where the would be some performances being done. One of those performances being done by your neighbor: Mr.Tetch.

Mr.Tetch was a rather nice man around the neighborhood and you would often see him a lot due to how small the area you lived in was. Alway a gentleman like and fancy.

He would come talk with your parents sometimes outside of the house, giving you a little smile and wave while you nervously gave one in return, clinging to your mother's leg.

It's not like you didn't like Mr.Tetch. You were just shy, that's all.

He even once sent you and your family a few homemade sweets after finding out you had caught a rather nasty cold. Always being warm and welcoming to you and your family, and even soon turning into a good family friend.

That was probably the reason why when you were picked out from the crowd, you felt as though you could trust him. Trust him as he held his silver pocket-watch in front of your face: Swinging it back and forth. Watching as you slipped out of conciousness and into a willing husk. The ticking noise echoing throughout your ears.

Oh how foolish you were.

" My dear little bunny is finally awake." He puts down the teacup he was holding in his hands back onto the decorative table filled with other teas and sweets made to your very liking.

" Mr . . . M-mr Tetch?" You ask. Hoping Wondering if maybe the mask was just giving you bad eyesight.

Mr.Tetch stood up from his seat. Slowly walking towards you as he spoke.

" Im Sorry, my dear. I now it us all sudden but . . . Oh, I just really couldn't help myself. Don't you see. Such a perfect opportunity: to take you a way and keep you all for me."

Jervis had grown obsessed with you. Completly delusional. But nobody had been able to see it under all his kind words and charm. He didn't really know what it was at first. But for some odd, dare he say mad reason, he grew this dark wish to have you all for himself.

This fatherly urge to care for you . . to spoil you. . . to raise you as his own. It had all become too much for him to take. And the show had been the perfect opportunity.

He had followed you and your family around for a while. And thank goodness you all lived in a smaller part of Gotham because nobody ever suspected a thing when he would show up seemingly at random.

As he continued walking towards you, you pressed your eyes together tightly, hoping that it all was just a bad dream. Two little tears trickled down your eyes because of the burning pain in your wrists.

You let a small wimper as you heard him kneel down in front of you. Gently unclasping the mask from the back of your your head, and pulling it away from your sweaty face.

You let two more teardrops roll down your cheeks as you slowly squinted your eyes back open. Looking down at the man who had done this to you. You can very clearly now see that it was, in fact, Mr.Tetch.

You were wearing a fancy yet comfortable outfit that reminded you of the white rabbit. The one from "Alice in Wonderland" that you liked to watch on rainy days in Gotham.But you didn't care right now. Your mind only focused on how much pain you were in as you watched Mr.Tetch cup your face and wipe your tears with his thumbs.

" I . . . " You tried to say. Jervis gave you a puzzled look. Now grasping the physical pain and discomfort in your face.

" Bunny? " He asked. His smile faltering a bit. " What is it? "What's wrong?"

" I-it. " You finally manage to choke out. Now on the verge of sobbing. " I-it hurts!"

Now Jervis was panicking. " What?" He asked frantically. " What hurt, wha-"

Then he saw them. Your little red wrists from underneath the rope. An expression of rage starting to form on his face: his smile now fading away, fully.

" THOSE ABSOLUTE-"

Of course! Of course those dense, stupid fools had not been careful with you. Oh . . . they were going to be in for it!

Jervis then took a deep breath.

He needed to calm himself down and focus on taking care of you. You were sobbing now. " I-I want my mama!" You cried," I. . . I want my p-papa!"

Jervis just began to shush you. Cooing at you with sweet words. " Don't worry, bunny. Papa's here. Papa's right here."

Quickly, he worked to get the rope off of you. Trying his best not to put you in any more pain during the process. He could see your wrists now, fully in view: red, raw, and bleeding a bit.

" Oh bunny . . . " He cooed pitifully. Your head hung low, and you began to calm yourself down. The relief of freedom from the ropes was helping a lot. " I'm so so sorry."

You flinched and squirmed as you felt him wrap around your torso. Picking you up as he now sat with you in the seat to the right of where you were just sitting.

As you sat there in his lap, you hat the urge to kick and scream. To fight him off. But your tired, anxious, and hurt body wouldn't let you. So you just slumped into his chest. Winching as he gently kissed your sore, little wrists. " I'm so sorry, bunny. It's ok now, I'm here. Im here."

You don't know why you were feeling so comforted by his words. Maybe it was the sound of his voice, your lightheadedness from crying, or both. But it was working, and Jervis knew it.

Looking at one of the deserts, Jervised used his free hand to pull it forward while his other arm remained gently wrapped around you.

" Here" He says, raising a piece of it to your lips. " Will this maybe make it a bit better?"

You look down at the treat for a moment, then look back at Mr.Tetch. You defiantly didn't trust whatever he was trying to give you.

" Not hungry." You lie. In all actuality, you were starving.

" We both know that's a lie, my dear." He replies, a bit of smugness lacing his tone. " You haven't eaten anything in the past seven hours."

" Now, please eat it." He raises the sweet closer to your lips. And you just decided to give in. Hesitantly eating eat. Meanwhile, Jervis seemed pretty satisfied.

He let out a small hum as he watched you struggle to stay awake. Your eyes slowly closing before you snapped them back open: the method becoming less and less effective.

"Bunny, bunny, bunny, you're so funny with your twitching nose." He began to sing softly. " Bunny, bunny, bunny, you're so funny from your head. . . "

You couldn't hear what he was saying anymore. His words were all ruffling together as you slipped out of consciousness. Falling asleep in his loving, twisted embrace.

#gotham jervis #jervis tetch x reader #gotham jervis x reader #jervis tetch #platonic reader #yandere x reader #yandere batman villains #child reader #Jervis Tetch x child reader #platonic yandere batman villians #yandere dc villains x reader

[mxrcjqckspnchqsc]

Could you do the fluff alphabet with Robin Buckley?<3

Fluff Alphabet

A/N: this took awhile sorry bout that but it's here so hope you like it!(and to the person who requested Bruce, I don't write for him, sorry!)

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?) Robin admires your kindness and how nice you are to your friends and strangers.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?) Robin's favorite part of your body is your hands, she loves drawing little doodles on them when she's absolutely bored out of her mind.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?) Robin is mostly the little spoon, she likes to be held but she doesn't mind being the big spoon, she loves the way your body fits with hers.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?) Robin's ideal date with you is really anything, could be a picnic in the park, late night drive that feels like forever, a movie night, etc.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?) Robin isn't one to hide away how she feels but ofc her crush on you was just embarrassing to watch(as Steve quotes) but nonetheless she will let you know how she feels anytime of the day.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?) Robin never really thought of having a family at all but once she saw you interact with Holly, she knew she wanted to have one but maybe later in life when you aren't facing monsters from another dimension.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?) Robin's pretty lousy with gift giving since she doesn't have any money so she tends to make home made gifts for you instead(and she definitely didn't ask Nancy for tips whatsoever) but when she does buy you a gift, she makes sure it's special and tries her best to not ruin it.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?) Robin LOVES to hold hands, whenever you two are together you are holding hands, and in public interlocking pinkies. She just can't keep her hands off of you and everyone knows it.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?) Robin would be all over you if you got hurt, she would be by your side 24/7 and almost never leave unless she really had to.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?) Robin always jokes around with you whether it's a inside joke between the two of you or just a simple joke she heard from Steve or Eddie. As far as pranks go, she tries to not hurt you in any of them but she does them occasionally when you don't suspect it and when you think it's the last, it isn't and it never will be.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?) Robin likes to caress your face while she kisses you whether it's a quick kiss on the lips/cheek/neck or a much longer kiss. She likes knowing you're actually there and not a part of her imagination.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?) Robin expresses her love for you through her actions if words cannot let her, she'll kiss you, hold your hand, smile at you to let you know that she's never leaving you as she doesn't plan on it.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?) Robin's favorite memory of the two of you was when you and the older teens did karaoke night and you was singing a song by Queen with Steve(while drunk), seeing her lover and best friend getting along meant a lot to her(not that she would admit it)

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?) Robin has many fears, but her absolute worst fear is getting outed. It's hard being queer in Indiana, and she's seen the things they've done to people like her, and she's always on edge, hoping she or you isn't next. She couldn't bear losing you, she would never forgive herself.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?) Robin tend to ramble alot, everyone knows that. But it's about the type of stuff she chooses to ramble about such as a comic book and it's franchise, a movie with a bad ending, an analysis about two characters and why they should end up together instead of who they should end up with, even random science facts. She could go on forever and ever on the difference between effect and affect.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?) Robin doesn't really do petnames but she does like to call you honey or darling, she doesn't go all out in public.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?) Robin doesn't care what you guys do just as long as she's in your vicinity and she gets to be near you, she's chill.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?) A song that reminds you of Robin would be Dancing Queen, sure it was the song that you and Steve sung while drunk that one night but it's also the song that played in the background when she told you she loved you for the first time and when she(finally) confessed her feelings.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?) Robin tells you almost everything unless it has to be a secret(such as El and the upside down) and she can't tell anyone and that(sadly) includes you, it's hurts her so much but it's for the better but they get out eventually.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?) It took you guys a longgggggg time to get together and Robin takes full responsibility for that, she was too busy overthinking to even see that you would give her longing glances and heart eyes back.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?) When you're upset, Robin tries her best to make you feel better but if you just want to be alone then she gets that and she'll leave you alone until you're ready.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?) Robin loves showing you off to your friends whether it's a small accomplishment such as getting a good grade on a test or something big like getting a job, Robin tells it all and she's always proud of you no matter what.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?) Robin HATES the idea of you fighting, sure you can protect yourself but it still worries her when you go up against vecna or demobats, in her defense, you could have gotten rabies!

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?) Robin can surprisingly read you very well, like an open book, but reading a new chapter that feels similar to the last. She can tell when you're mad, sad, anxious, lying, and ofc happy. She basically memorized all your emotions in her head so she can know whatever you're feeling in a second and how to help(if she has to).

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?) Robin would go all out when trying to propose, getting a reservation at a fancy restaurant(but in the corner where no one sees the two of you), writing a speech on what to say when the moment comes but when all of that gets ruined and canceled. Robin decided to propose to you in the kitchen right right there and then when you were eating and you almost choked, but nonetheless you said yes.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?) The only thing that makes Robin feel calm is you(and surprisingly meditation with all her fidgeting), Robin claims you just know the right words to say and the right tactics to use which calms her down and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Home. Masterlist. Tumblr. Tiktok. Wattpad.

#robin buckley #stranger things #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #x gender neutral reader #80s #wlw #robin buckley x reader #steve harrington #dustin henderson #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #el hopper #byler #jopper #upside down #vecna #jonathan byers

[asherloki]

Eyes tells it all

Bbc Sherlock x fem reader (maybe a bit younger than him)

Lovers in denial request by @astudyinlaura

A/n:- I hope you like it, kinda in creative slow down. The trope list here!

"Did you just argued with Anderson for me ?" Sherlock said, he sounded a little surprised.

"Ofcourse, and showed him his place." I replied, and I did, when I found Anderson calling him a sociopath again.

"Why?" He asked, perhaps he couldn't believe I'd argue with anderson for him. Was it too unbelievable though? Can't he see it in my eyes? Perhaps it's just platonic, I'm thinking too much but to his question I must reply.

"Didn't you hear? He talked so badly about you, I don't like anyone talking shit about you."

"But I'm a sociopath aren't I?"

"Ofcourse not, you're way better than that, you're kind, it's just work that makes you like that, and don't be too hard on yourself, you're my..." I almost said it, what I felt, but what I felt exactly?, friends ofcourse, perhaps, "my friend, I won't be afraid to stand up for my friends."

He listened and after a moment he said, "okay fine now let's go home." And we walked together to our flat. My friends often asked me if I was in love with him, and if he's in love with me. I never answered it correctly. Because I don't know what to answer, he doesn't seem like a person who could feel that way for anyone. But then there are times when, I'd sit sadly and he'd just sit by me and search for words to cheer me up. He has become better in it, with kind words, hugs everything, and when I look into his eyes, there's also something that.. makes me wonder if whatever I suspect is right or not, perhaps he fancies me too. Or it's just kindness.

But then I thought, I must give myself a chance at love, so my friend fixed a date for me with a guy. And the Sunday evening I stood infront of the mirror dressing up, wearing my favourite pink dress, while my roommate, Sherlock sat with his microscope in the kitchen.

"Hey I'm heading over to the cafe okay? See you in a few hours." I came out and informed him. He lifted his face from the microscope to meet my eyes and then again his eyes told me something I knew I shouldn't believe. He doesn't allow himself to feel that way for anyone, and me? I'm way too young, he only likes me as a friend. I thought.

"Oh I.." he trailed off, "where are you going?" He asked.

"A date".

"Date? You, you got a date?."

"Yes"

He seemed to process all this, "so, you fancy someone?" He asked casually.

"No, my friend fixed this date for me, anyway I must go now, see you." As I went towards the living room and then to the door. I saw him with the corner of my eyes, just sitting and he was thinking something as his eye brows were furrowed. My hand reached the door when I heard him walking towards me and said, "wait."

My mind raced, I couldn't help but think the thought which pleases me, the thought of he loves me. And yes that's the moment I couldn't deny, I am indeed in love with him.

"I am already late Sherlock." I didn't face him instead I opened the door. When I felt he held my wrist and stopped me.

"wait, wait I... Need to tell you something." And I faced him finally. Perhaps both our eyes told us the same thing we decided to deny.

"What?" I enquired. His eyes fixed on me. I could understand he was trying to form sentences before telling me.

"I know, either this would destroy me or save me." He said finally.

"And it's making me feel like an utter fool because I didn't understand anything." What I said was true, what he thought, what he said, and what he meant was absolutely in the air for me.

"This ... This feeling perhaps." He replied in a more confusing way.

"What I mean to say is..." Finally he started to say things that might make sense, "I have never felt the need of affection, and I have never allowed myself to ... Perhaps love someone."

Why's he saying that to me? What is he implying?

"Okay I am well aware of that." I replied, he was stating an obvious fact.

"Look I,... when it came to you I lost all my controls, it wasn't a matter of me allowing or not anymore. It was the first time I didn't feel I have to hold myself against my feelings. I still don't know what love is, but I'd like to believe it's something like this, where it isn't a disadvantage, it's just simply being happy with you. I guess..." He looked down this time, he smiled and his voice became softer as he said,

"I think I've never thought of loving someone because, I was meant to love you, maybe my loyalty has always been to you, maybe my roads were always leading me to you, love was always hard for me to allow myself to feel. But with you it just happened, I didn't bother to stop myself." Then he looked up at me again.

Wonderstruck I was, he? He loves me? He can love? I never thought he can. He thinks this deeply of me? I thought but then it struck me to ask him,

"What did you mean by it could destroy you?"

He looked a little hesitant but then he gave a soft chuckle and said,

"because, if you didn't feel the same way, and my confession ruins this, it might've destroyed me, after all love is dangerous."

Now now, Mr cold detective can explain his feelings properly. He did it perfectly.

"Now will you say something or ...." He perhaps deduced I was a little stunned to speak. But I got back to my senses and he noticed me wiping a little tear that was there in the corner of my eye,

"Well, you proved you can love, especially romantically?" I asked.

"Only you I believe, I know you're alot younger than me, and you should find someone of your age, as good looking as you, someone who..."

He was speaking alot, I had to put my lips on his to stop him from overthinking. He was surprisedThen he kissed me back cupping my cheeks with his big hands. After the kiss, we stood there blushing, he could blush too now. Fascinating he is.

"Was it a "I love you too" from your side?" He asked.

"Did you say the sentence to which we reply with this?" I love this, he sometimes finds it hard to argue with me. I've always been a little talkative.

"Well then, I love you."

There, he said it, "and I love you too ". So did I

"So, I have to go on date then". I said smirking.

"You're still on it? After everything I said?" Sherlock was almost confused and it was cute, to be honest.

"Well ofcourse, but with you." I replied. And then he understood he and I are gonna have an evening date. He winked and got his coat, offering me his arm to hold while we walk to our date.

#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x y/n #sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock

[annemiek19]

Heat wave - Jay Halstead

The city of Chicago was currently in the middle of a heat wave, and the AC in your apartment broke last night. You barely got any sleep, and now you were working a case.

“Why can’t these bastards just hold off for a few days? These aren’t circumstances to commit a felony,” you said while looking at the crime scene.

“I wish it was that way,” Kevin mumbled.

“What have we got?” Voight asked.

“White male around 40s. Three gunshots to the stomach, one in the head,” you said.

“Time of death?”

“Around 3 am last night. Someone from the neighbourhood heard gunshots, called it in, but didn’t see anything,” you informed Voight.

“Alright. Let’s head back to the district and see what we can find.”

You hopped in the car with Jay. The AC was fully on and cooling the vehicle. “I am going to sleep in here tonight,” you said as Jay drove away.

“Long night?”

“A hot night. The AC in my apartment broke. This is the coolest I have been ever since last night.”

“You should’ve come over.” Jay hands you a bottle of water, which you happily take a few sips off.

“Yeah, I should have. But I didn’t have any energy to get out of bed.”

Jay chuckled.

Once you returned to the district, it was just as hot inside as it was outside. “Sorry, guys. All of the ACS broke last night during a power outage. Nothing is useful,” Trudy said as you walked in.

“That’s just great,” you mumbled.

Jay opened the gate, and you followed him upstairs.

“I don’t get how people in Africa do this. I’m not made for this weather.”

“You say the same in the winter,” Jay laughed.

“Yes, because that’s too cold. I’m a spring kind of gal, or maybe the beginning of fall. I just want sun, not warm weather. No rain and no snow. That too much to ask?”

“Yes. Way too much.”

You walked to the coffee room, where you grabbed a cold water bottle from the fridge and held it against your skin. You just hoped it would be easy today.

It was not an easy day. It felt like it was getting hotter by the minute, and the suspect even had you chasing him down. You got him, but man, it felt like you were going to pass out any minute. You were standing in an alley in the shade, trying to collect yourself before walking back out.

“Hey, you okay? I saw you coming down here,” Jay said.

You looked at your boyfriend. “I was just in need of some shade. That fucker had me chase him in this heat,” you panted. You were still out of breath, which wasn’t normal for you.

Jay handed you a bottle of water, but you waved it away.

“I’m going to throw up if I drink anything.”

Jay looked at you with concern. “You sure you’re okay?”

“No,” you mumbled. Your ears started buzzing, and you knew what was coming next. You tried to reach out to Jay before you fell to the ground.

“Heat exhaustion,” Jay said to you. “You passed out due to heat exhaustion.”

Doctor Natalie Manning was also standing in the room. “We want to keep you here for a few hours until your stats go back up. Jay can stay. Just take it easy, and make sure that bottle of water is empty before we release you,” Natalie said.

You smiled at her as a thanks before she walked out.

Jay sat down next to the bed.

“I told you I wasn’t made for this weather.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “It’s not funny. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry I scared you.”

“I’m just glad it’s nothing more serious.”

“You and me both.”

#imagine #one shot #jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jesse lee soffer #jesse lee soffer one shot #chicago pd #jay halstead one shot #one chicago #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd one shot #jesse lee soffer imagine #jay halstead x reader #one chicago x reader

[v1olentdelights]

The Bedroom Theory

Kili Durin x reader - Fluff with a little angst

TW: a dirty comment

Summary: Kili is flirtatious, and sometimes he speaks without thinking.

a/n: loved writing this! <3 also send me an ask to be added to a taglist!

----

The Summer Solstice, it was something almost every creature in Middle Earth celebrated. Except for dwarves, the only reason it is suspected is because this is the first celebration you had seen any of them participate in. Though they had finally taken Erebor back so you suppose everyone had something to celebrate.

What better way to rejoice than drinks, music, and dancing? Of course you were happy to have taken Erebor back, survived the journey there, and won against the orcs, as well as finally changing clothes. However you couldn’t fully enjoy yourself, the Princes and King of Erebor sat at a table conversing over what was most likely political matters. They hadn’t even taken more than a day to rest and enjoy their accomplishment. With the most out of character confidence you walked over to Kili’s seat and grabbed his hand. He turned to you to question your actions but you were dragging him away before anyone could begin to reason with you.

“You must enjoy yourself, sitting around talking business while others are celebrating cannot be good for one such as yourself. It seems as though you are beginning to melt. Oh dear I can already see the wrinkles forming.” He had a small smirk that seemed to light up his whole face, the tunic he wore only added to the brightness. It was rather odd to see him in a lighter shade of maroon as compared to the black and grey he adorned on your journey.

“What if we weren’t discussing business, Lady of the Shire?” What could he possibly be getting at?

“It does not matter what you were conversing about anymore.” You attempted to keep a serious face. “Dance with my Prince Durin, or I shall perish on the spot.” He opened his mouth and closed it, he looked like a fish out of water.

“I have to admit something Y/N.” His tone more serious than you would have liked. Oh heavens, was he going to admit he was going to find the elf, Tauriel you believed her name was. She looked at him with so much love, maybe he liked her soft hands as compared to your calloused ones. “ I do not know how to dance.”

You slightly smiled, maybe you liked that it had nothing to do with the elf. Maybe your heart picked up a beat at the thought of something blooming between the two of you. Though none of that mattered at the moment, you now needed to prepare for the pain that was about to ensue.

“Ah, something the great and wonderful Kili cannot do. Well, I shall teach you then. You will dance with your future wife, will you not?” The smirk was back.

“I should hope so, though no one can compare to your gracefulness.” He had you remembering the time you tripped over a tree branch on a hill and managed to take half the company down with you.

“Oh shut it. Now, hold my hand.” You slid your left hand into his right. “And this one,” you gently grabbed onto his left hand “goes here.” The tenderness in which he held his hand at your waist was surprising.

You could see in his face he was struggling to hold something back, yet his eyes stayed on yours.

“Now we are going to move from foot to foot in a sort of jumping manner. Watch that couple over there for a moment.” You turned to watch a young pair of children dance about.

“Got it?” He shook his head even though he had been watching you. And so the torture began. You let the first few minutes slide knowing that the dance would be hard for a dwarf to conquer. It was more suited for a person who was light on their feet. It soon became apparent that he had completely missed what he was supposed to be doing. There were a couple close calls involving you almost having a broken toe or two.

“Kili, you didn’t watch, you have almost broken my feet multiple times!” You squealed as you narrowly escaped his heavy boots, yet again.

“Maybe I prefer a different kind of dancing…” You understood what he was hinting at, it was toeing the line between funny and flirty vs inappropriate. “one that includes privacy, and a bedroom. Though the bed isn’t required, if you are into that sort of thing.” Your brain began to buzz and your face was heating up like a furnace.

“Kili Durin, I will smack the shit out of you.” A few nearby stopped to look at you both.

“Oh so I take it, the bed is optional with you.” He chuckled, a mistake. He misread you and now he would regret it. A moment after his comment he watched something flicker in your eyes, and then he felt the burning sting your hand left behind on his cheek.

“Do not talk of such things to me Prince, that is no way to talk to a lady. We may be close, but that sort of conversation is not to be had between friends, and especially not in public.” Taking a step back you inhaled deeply trying to remain confident as you felt the weight of many stares.“Now if you will excuse me, I need to be anywhere but here.” With that you made your way past the royal table, avoiding eye contact, and into the small woods nearby.

Such a thing would attract attention if it was a regular person on the receiving end, however it was a royal. Not just any royal, a true Prince. Everyone had halted, even the music stopped. This had Thorin and Fili searching for the distruption. Upon seeing the utter shock on Kili’s face and the anger that trailed after you as you sped past them, Fili had ordered the musicians to carry on with the music as Thorin encouraged everyone else to return to the festivities. Everyone was hesitant at first but soon it was as if nothing had happened. Though for years to come ‘the time a commoner hit a prince’ would be told as bedtime stories.

~~~

You found yourself sitting near the water, dipping your feet in as the tide fell in and out. The beach portion was mostly rocks and a couple shells here and there, walking along it barefoot reminded you of your trek to Erebor.

The crunching of twigs snapped you out of your thoughts. You could feel his presence and were deciding that he didn’t deserve your attention you continued turning over the rock in your hands.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft, a tinge of hurt in it. Why was he hurt? The way he was talking… what he said was hardly appropriate considering the setting, alongside the fact that you are not courting one another. Maybe a smack to the face took it a step too far. But were you really wrong? No. And maybe there was a part of you that was just hurt that he would make a joke out of such a thing.

You had been with the company long enough to learn dwarves' traditions. You learned how important courting was and the steps to finalize the relationship. It was given that the men would have their conversations about such things together and the women would have theirs. However it would be separate. As you grew closer to the group and had been less of an outsider, you were given the privilege of being one of them. They did not hold back the gross details of their stories or thoughts. Now it worried you. What if Kili only say you as part of the group, a close friend, not a woman who could be courted.

“I am sorry.” He stood at the edge of the woods waiting for you to respond, to let him know it was okay to talk. A simple hmph pushed him closer. “I realize I should have made that kind of comment in a private setting… well it should not have been said at all. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I am just used to talking about whatever with you.” Slowly, he sat down next to you.

“You can.” It came out barely a whisper. “Of course you can Kili, I am your friend. But such a statement is improper to say in public, especially to someone you are not with. I am your friend, but that is all.” You chest felt like someone had scraped out everything and under your eyes were heavy. Begging your body to hold back tears until you were alone, you sucked in a big breath. He looked at your face, inspecting it as if he had not just spent over half a year with you.

“And if I wanted to be more than your friend? Someone who could make a remark like that without being slapped?” His smirk was visible in your peripheral vision.

“I suppose that is a possibility.” Gently he grabbed your chin, turning your face towards him.

“How does one go about courting? I don’t know how it is initiated.”

“Well for that you would need a bead, such as this one.” He pulled out a medium sized bead, something noticeable but not giant, with a ring of white quartz encased with silver designs of leaves. “And then they would ask if you could court them. And the rest is up to their answer.” His smirk never faltered, not even with your shocked awkward noise.

“Are you being serious?” Your hands were now shaking as your reached out to cup the outside of his hands.

“Amralime, would you allow me the greatest honor of courting you?” He leaned in the slowly, he placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lips softly.

“Kili, you have a line of women of all species dying to be seen by you. Why me?” The love you had been yearning for was finally presented to you, yet you couldn’t fathom why he, a true prince, would want to be with you. By no means were you insecure about yourself, you knew you stunning and you had many bewitching attributes. But when a prince, the Prince of Erebor, was asking to be with you, no, court you what were you supposed to do. There were so many other women who would be better suited for the royal life

“You have no idea how much you mean to me. There is something about you, something so vibrant and beautiful. I don’t know if there is such thing as a One, but if they are real. You are my One, and I believe I have always known that.” He leaned his forehead against yours. Both your bodies seemed to drift closer to each other, they always had. Maybe you knew he had been meant for you as long as he had known you were meant for him. Your lips ghosted over his, you could hear his breath hitch.

“I would love to be courted by you, my prince. Though I believe your bedroom theory needs some experimenting, don’t you think?” You mumbled before attaching your lips to his.

#grace writes #kili/reader #kili durin #kili fanfic #kili x reader #kili #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fic #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit #lotr imagine #lotr fanfic #lotr #tolkien #kili durin fluff #kili fluff

[ijwrsmff]

yandere loid yandere loid yandere loid

Hehehe. I have written the thing. Also featuring Platonic! Yandere! Anya! I adore them. Thank you for the request! I hope you like it ^^

Word count: 1,196

You didn’t know it…but he found you. 

Loud was going through single people in the area, looking for a potential spouse. Your profile was exactly what he was seeking to find. Someone normal…good looking, but normal in the sense you didn’t seem like a spy, nor did you have any criminal history. It would be a shame if someone as perfect as you were to get into any legal trouble and ruin his plans. 

You were just going to the store, getting some groceries, when you bumped into someone. 

“I’m so sorry!” You exclaimed as you picked up the items you dropped and helped the man to pick up his own items. 

A small laugh came from the man, “It’s okay! I should have been paying more attention to where I was going.” He said as he looked at you. 

You smiled at the man, and found yourself in awe…this man…he was gorgeous. 

The man smiled back at you and held out his hand to shake yours, “I’m Loid. Loid Forger!” And he helped you place the items dropped into your cart. 

“Nice to meet you Loid!” You sighed, “I have to get going now, but thank you for helping me!” 

Loud laughed, “It was my fault you dropped your items, it’s only fair I help pick them up!” He turned to leave, and for a second…you were sad to see him go. He seemed like such a kind man. But, you didn’t want to get your hopes up of a possible friendship just yet. 

After leaving the grocery store, you headed home with your groceries. And you thought that encounter would be the last time you saw Loid Forger. 

But you were wrong. 

From then on out, you ran into Loid a couple times. Funny how you never noticed this man before, but now you were seeing him all over the place. Not enough to suspect anything nefarious, but it was certainly interesting how much your lives seemed to overlap. 

At one point, you even met his daughter. They were at the store getting peanuts, when Anya ran up to you. 

“Papa! It’s y/n!” She exclaimed and ran up to you, giving you a big hug. 

You smiled at the young girl, “Hi Anya! It’s so good to see you again!” You picked her up and spun her around, something she loved for you to do. 

Anya turned back to Loid with a shocked expression on her face, before turning back to you with a smirk. 

‘What’s got her so happy?’ You thought. ‘She’s just so cute…I wonder if she has a mother…’

You set Anya down, and she walked back over to Loid and looked faint. 

Loid immediately looked concerned, “Anya? What’s wrong?” He patted her head, and checked her forehead for a fever. 

It also made you concerned, so you walked closer to the two of them. 

She stumbled back to her dad, and said “I am just so upset. I have a papa, but most kids have two parents. I love my papa, but I want another parent. I wanna be a happy family of three.” She looked at you with the same smirk. 

‘So…he’s single? Maybe…I can ask for his number…’ You thought, looking at the two with a hopeful expression on your face. 

Loid seemed shocked by Anya’s “outburst” and looked at you. 

He smiled, with a light blush on his face as Anya continued, “Y/n is so nice, papa you should get their number and date them so I can have two parents.” Which only caused his blush to get deeper. 

“So…what do you say, y/n? I’m not asking you to jump in and be a parent immediately, but Anya likes you. That’s very important to me.” He rubbed the back of his neck,  “We could…go on a few dates and see where it goes.” 

You blushed as well, Loid was so handsome…he wanted to go on dates with you? ‘I wouldn’t mind going on dates…and Anya is such a sweet kid, maybe…maybe this could work out.’ 

You didn’t realize how long you’d been lost in thought until Anya ran back up to you, “Please? I like you lots!” 

Bringing you out of your thoughts, you stuttered, “Y-yes! I would like that!” And you gave them a genuine smile. 

You didn’t notice…but both Anya and Loid reacted to your statement by smirking briefly. 

Got you. 

After that, you went on a couple dates. Loid was making sure you would be the perfect partner. 

You didn’t trust him immediately, but after a couple dates he asked you to visit his home so you could see Anya and you all could watch her favorite spy show together. 

Not thinking anything of it, you agreed. He seemed kind, and you quickly grew to love Anya. She was one of the sweetest and smartest kids you’ve ever encountered, so you were excited to see her more. 

You reached their apartment, and were about to knock when Anya pulled the door open. How did she know you were here? 

“Y/n! Papa they’re here!” She rushed towards you and jumped, hugging you like a koala. 

With a laugh, you hugged her back, holding her up. “Hey Anya!” You walked into their apartment, still carrying Anya. 

Loid came into view, coming from somewhere down the hallway. “Hello! It’s good to see you again!” He laughed at the sight of you and Anya, “You can’t cling to them forever!” 

She sighed, and said “Why not? They don’t mind! Do you?” And she looked up at you with the biggest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. 

“Of course not! I don’t mind carrying my little Anya forever!” And you meant it. You loved this little girl with all your heart. You’d seen her out with Loid a good number of times when you were around town, so you’ve had plenty of time to get to know Anya as well as Loid. 

But honestly? Who WOULDN’T love Anya, even after the first meeting. 

Loid gave a dramatic sigh, defeated. “At least let them go until we finish our apartment tour.” He gave Anya a look you couldn’t decipher, and she got down immediately. 

He walked you through the kitchen and living room, then showed you where the bathroom was, and skipped past a certain door in the hallway. Anya was very excited to show you her adorable room, and introduce you to Mr. Chimera. 

Loid showed you his room briefly, then went to the door he skipped. 

“And this…is your room.” He said. 

Suddenly…you got a bad feeling. “My room? Wh-” You were cut off when Loid placed something over your mouth. Some kind of cloth damp with an unknown liquid. 

You felt yourself getting faint, and Loid caught you in his arm, while still using the other to hold this cloth over your mouth. 

Your vision was getting blurry, and before you lost consciousness…you heard a conversation between Loid and Anya that filled you with fear. 

Anya looked excited, “Papa! Papa! Can we keep them?” She said, all but jumping up and down. 

The last thing you heard was Loid’s voice. 

“Yes…we'll keep them. Forever.” 

#loid x reader #spy x family x reader #loid forger x reader #platonic! anya x reader #platonic! yandere! anya x reader #x reader #yandere x reader #gn reader

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Dear Elanor

I have a question about hair. I know you are the foremost expert on not being an expert about hair and so I'm choosing to speak to you instead of people who have studied this subject far more in depth than you and most certainly me. You see I have Celtic ancestors on one side and the Germanic ones on the other and for a very brief period in secondry school I had lovely, wavy auburn in the right light hair. And then everything went odd??? I believe there to have been a war somewhere in my genes and barring all evidence to the contrary have settled on this as the only possible reason. My hair has gone straight. I've tried all the CGM things and stolen my wife's bristle brush and my hair resolutely refuses to be anything but thick and occasionally poofy (when the brush is involved I end up looking quite like a tribble held up to a balloon) and even more confusingly settled itself on a sandy blonde that had I not already worked on my toxic masculinity issues would lead me to a life of a very successful Dean Winchester cosplayer. But there were three delightful years when I had Anakin hair a la revenge of the sith. Minus the grease. And I can't for the life of me figured out what happened or how to get the fun wibbles back. Even when I tried growing it out again recently it was just like 'ah, no, you see, we shall be the only straight thing about you and you shall suffer under the weight of it and force yourself to do an even more confusing gender thing and buy hair clips because we as the collective on your scalp have come to a common agreement without you,' and I'm just wondering, if you maybe know something in the deep magic not at all rooted in any kind of science because if I go to Actual Hair People they will tell me science things and I am not interested in their science that comes seriously and with no hint of long suffering or tangents and also products that I'm sure cost a great deal of money. Do you know, Elanor? Do you know what witch or ghost or ancestor I have somehow upset/wronged/accidentally pleased somehow? Things I have attempted: - going outside, turning around three times and spitting - asking the cats to intercede on my behalf - not washing my hair at all for a month and seeing if that shocks it into behaving (look, isolation got weird and my hair only got straighter,) - writing a letter to my dear departed irish gaelic professor in hopes that he might know something only to feel terrible about writing the letter in english because i never actually learned how to be literate in class - observing a oujia board from a distance and nodding solemnly - staring at the bottom of a quarry like the vast abyss of stone might somehow do A Thing. It did not. It did, however, unlock many thoughts. - the bristle brush - a return to asking the cats who were less amused this time than they were the first and gave me a great deal of their hair as though I should somehow be pleased and honoured with this gift. it got up my nose and I was neither so I'm beginning to suspect their involvement My sympathies to you upon your receipt of this message.

Hmm. Okay.

You need to buy some good cheese, probably three wheels, and maybe some good white bread to be on the safe side (bonus points if home-baked, but don't go trying to make it super soft or super hard). Then you need to find a faerie-infested Welsh lake. I'd recommend Llyn y Fan Fach, probably, because it has a pretty good hit-rate with water fey, so the odds are pretty good. Go at dusk, when the light plays tricks on you. Bring no iron or salt. If you see a faerie ring, DO NOT STEP IN WITH BOTH FEET.

Drop a cheese into the water - and the bread if you brought that - and ask for your curls back. For bonus points you should probably do it in Welsh? Maybe demonstrate at the water by curling a lock around your fingers for good measure. Tell them the cheese is a gift.

Return on the second night and do it again. Drop a cheese in, ask for the curls, tell them it's a gift. NO IRON.

On the third night, do it again. If it's worked, this is the night they'll reply. Most likely they'll give you a comb, or an oaken rod about which to wind your curls, or a faerie ointment, or some other thing. Listen carefully to the instructions, though, and don't deviate from them. Also Welsh faeries almost always add that you shouldn't reveal where you got their gifts from, and if you tell ANYONE they will take them back and fuck you up, so that's pretty likely. Whether it works or not, tell everyone it didn't.

If it doesn't happen on the third night, then it's Request Denied, I'm afraid. The origin of your curse is likely not Welsh (that or you bollocksed up one or more steps; it's easily done.) I wish you luck, friend.

#asks #hair

[vesper-tinus]

i love your work! you write so well, and the fact english is your third language!?? that’s impressive as heck! i usually hate requesting, but since i love your writing style i thought why not 🥲

would you be able to make another gaz fic? maybe one where the reader and him preparing for bed, you know like following a little routine and going to sleep. you don’t have to, cuz anything with gaz would be great, he’s not appreciated or written about enough 😭

Hello! Thank you so much for the compliment 🖤 ! I'm honoured you even considered requesting, despite your distaste for it—that is quite humbling! I'd be happy to write something for Gaz, and if it's domestic? Even more so! Beloved Gaz !! I hope I managed to write something you can agree with. Happy Valentines 🖤🌹 !

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader

Summary: After a lovely date night, Kyle and yourself return home and get ready for a well-deserved rest. Keywords: Established relationship, romantic fluff, nightly routine—domestic behaviour. Wordcount: 1149

Kyle laughs, twirling you over the threshold of your apartment door before shutting it closed behind him.

The exhaustion is plain on both your faces, but you are happy, you are in love, and you are oh-so-tired.

A night out was exactly what both of you needed, though perhaps you have danced a little too much. Your calves feeling strained, and your feet having protested the entire walk home. As you hang up your coats, the two of you bump hips—they say lovers are often attached by the hip, perhaps there is some truth to it—and the thought makes you smile with tired amusement.  

His arm lazily snakes around your lower back as you walk through your quiet apartment, no light needed due to the familiarity… and Kyle’s insistence that his ‘night vision’ is better than yours—a joke between the two of you, though you suspect there is a genuine part of him that believes it. 

You only part when you reach the bedroom. Hip brushing hip as he moves towards the bathroom, and you towards the dresser. You exhale a pleasant sigh as you finally get to disrobe, trading your glamorous attire for a more comfortable one. You rifle through the options, eventually picking out your choice for the night. 

Sleepwear now checked off your nightly routine, you move to pick out Kyle’s, only to be paused by his voice.

“Babe?”

You glance over your shoulder, peering towards the open-doored bathroom. You can’t see him from where you’re standing, but you see his shadow dance across the tiled flooring. 

“Did we remember to buy toothpaste?” he calls from the bathroom, his voice closely followed by the sounds of obvious rummaging through drawers and shelves.

“Yes!” you respond in kind, matching his volume, “in the small drawer to the left, next to the cotton swabs!” You wait patiently for confirmation, Kyle’s t-shirt held loosely in your grasp. 

“... found it! Thanks!” 

You snort in vague amusement, gently shaking your head as you drop his nightwear on the bed. You drape your discarded clothes over the back of the chair, the one by the window, before leaving for the kitchen to refill the water bottles you keep on your respective nightstands.

Eventually, finally, you come to stand next to Kyle in front of the bathroom sink’s mirror, bumping hips as you do—purposefully this time—and the gesture is not lost on him, so he bumps back playfully.

“You were right, of course,” he says smoothly, waving the, now empty, cardboard box the tube of toothpaste came in. Only when you begin brushing your teeth does he lean over to press a minty kiss against your cheek. And another. And another, enough times that it makes you laugh, and a drop of toothpastey-spittle drips down your chin.

“The toothpaste is supposed to stay inside your mouth you kn—” 

You promptly push him out the bathroom before he can finish that sentence, trying not to smile wide at his antics and the laughter that rings out in your shared apartment.

Soon, you manage to finish your nightly routine in peace, giving your reflection one last look of approval before heading to bed.

Kyle’s changed into his sleepwear—boxers and a loose t-shirt, the one you picked out—a touristy thing you bought from your outings as a memory. It’s tacky and an eyesore, but he loves wearing it. ‘Because you picked it for me’, as he likes to remind you, and he often does. The boldness often causing your cheeks to warm.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand. He looks up when you enter the room, smiling lovingly at you. "Just setting the alarm—usual time?"

"A bit later, perhaps. We deserve it after tonight," you respond as you move towards the first window, drawing the blinds close, but the second window gives you pause. You crack it open, finding yourself admiring the view before you. Laid out for your enjoyment.

Quiet has settled over your neighbourhood like a blanket as the sun sets. From the comforts of your window, you watch the warm orange of the evening sky, your eyes glancing over the few wispy clouds left behind from the earlier rain. You breathe a sigh, exhaling with a smile on your face as you take in the freshened air. The day's activities and conversations play in your mind, remembering every smile you saw, and every gesture you felt—particularly from your boyfriend. You willingly let yourself get lost to the thoughts, chuckling at the particularly cheesy moments… and there are many of them.

Suddenly, a pair of well-defined arms wrap around you from behind, gently luring you from the memories, and soon your boyfriend’s chin comes to rest on your shoulder. He presses slow, sensual kisses to the crook of your neck, and you laugh at the ticklish sensation. 

“Ready for bed, babe?”

“In a moment,” you reply, tilting your head just enough to press a kiss to his temple. 

Kyle hums in response as he drapes himself over you, waiting, taking in the view. Though unbeknownst to you, his eyes are shut, and the view you suspect him to be enjoying, is rather the presence of you. He pulls you closer, letting you rest against the warmth of him. 

You emit a noise of satisfaction, and he chuckles at the noise, rewarding you with a gentle squeeze of your body. 

By the window you sway together, rocking side to side in a gentle rhythm. Slowly, but steadily, Kyle picks up the pace, eventually leading you both into a chorus of laughter as he swings you away from the window towards your shared bed. There, you fall together, struggling to catch your breaths. Him, because he keeps tickling you with kisses to every sensitive spot on your neck, and you, because you can’t stop laughing. 

“Alright, alright!” you exclaim in a huff of laughter. “I give up! I concede!” You soak up the warmth and love he exudes, prickling against your skin like the softest of silks. Your eyes meet, and neither of you seem able to gaze away. “Target down,” you manage to mutter out between breaths, a knowing smile curling at your lips.

Quiet settles over you, like it did with the world outside, carefree smiles displayed freely on both your faces. What a wondrous thing, you think, being in love, and being together like this. There will be many more memories to make in this house of yours, in this room, but you will forever remember this moment. The walls of your house will remember it too. 

You softly brush a thumb over his cheekbone, eyes practically sparkling with tenderness, and then you lean in for a kiss.

He tastes like mint. 

Kyle gently takes your face in his hands, pouring every ounce of gratitude, of adoration, into the kiss, matching your affections. 

You taste like mint too. 

#kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #gaz cod #cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw22 #x reader #reader #fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 imagine #cod imagine #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #reader imagine