#only i had a better knee then so who even knows

[cordeliawhohung]

Core, what about a bit of competition with ps! Gaz? Some new girl who think's she's already the darling of the studio takes a liking to Gaz, but finds out about his ties with reader.

The one time she gets to film with Gaz, she overplays her role and absolutely covers his neck, collar, shoulder, everything with hickeys, hoping it will deter the reader.

So imagine her shock when the next day, she pops into his dressing room and finds the reader in there as well, applying foundation over the marks and littered with dozens from Gaz himself. ❤️

(I realize how dumb this sounds as an ask but it's been rotting my brain for days and I desperately need it gone so I can focus on my college classes 😭)

thanks this has also been rotting my brain because i just love putting people in their place (: more ps!gaz here <3

The crux of your ass sits in perfect place on Kyle's thighs while your legs straddle the expanse of his hips. Warm hands rest on your waist as you manhandle his jaw, tilting his head side to side to get better access to his neck. Thick, round hickeys litter the delicate skin around his throat and down to his shoulders in angry, red pinpoint marks that break the beautiful and even tone of his skin with something revolting. They look like proper bruises rather than the after effects of a... wild video shoot. As if someone had tried to strangle him rather than make love to him.

You remember the video well, along with that new model with her fake blonde hair and even faker tan that they had paired Kyle with to shoot the other day. You had only seen her in person one time, and you vividly recall the way her blue eyes rolled over your body, assessing every inch of you before ultimately deciding you were worth very little time. Confidence was a must when you worked in the porn industry, but her attitude borders on an arrogance you haven't seen since your teenage years in public school.

As you apply yellow color corrector onto the dark marks on his skin, you nearly shiver as the images of her stained lips suckling on Kyle's neck flood your mind. There was little room to feel jealousy about her ravaging your favorite co-star when you were too busy cringing. So childish. Over zealous. You nearly cried tears of laughter when you noticed Kyle's expression, grimacing at the wet tongue and annoying teeth that nipped at him, yet still having to pretend to enjoy it. Even the comments on the video joked about it.

Put him back with the other model.

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought someone tried to strangle you," you tease.

"She might as well have," Kyle sighs. He adjusts his shoulders against the back of the chair, bare pecs flexing with the movement, bringing your attention to the uncovered marks that line his collarbone. "Haven't been able to go out in public without a goddamn turtleneck 'cause of her."

You chuckle as you finish applying and buffing out the rest of the color corrector along his skin. It leaves him looking sickly and discolored, which oddly enough is an improvement to what it looked like before. Setting the corrector to the side, you grab foundation next, hips swaying as you attempt to get some movement in your aching knees. Holding that position for so long without moving had them burning with fatigue.

"Need a break, doll?" Kyle prompts, hands sliding from your waist to your thighs.

"Don't know if we have time for a break. Got a lot of ground to cover before we start," you humor.

Kyle sits forward, throwing you off balance, yet he doesn't let you sway very far before his arms wrap around you, hands supporting your back. Adoring eyes crease as a grin floods his face. Even without the aid of studio lights he glows like a god as he leans closer and places a kiss on your neck.

"Show can't start without us," he says, teeth grazing your skin as he wanders down to your collarbone. "Could always give you a few hickeys to match, if you want."

He doesn't wait for you to answer before his tongue glides across your clavicles just for his teeth to follow right after. A chuckle rumbles in his chest at the tightening of your legs around his hips, and his hands only pull you closer. It doesn't take much for you to give in. Head rolling back, muscles melting as his lips conquer everything you're willing to give him. It's a delicate softness mixed with a brutal bite, something that leaves you gasping as he pulls the very air from your lungs and feeds on the sounds.

Kyle is more starved for you than usual. Sick of the fake, over dramatic screeching he got last week with that other model, he's hungry for the real thing. Hungry for you.

The unopened foundation falls free from your loose fingers and rolls along the floor into some forgotten corner when his hands wander underneath your shirt. It's a dance he has memorized; unclasping your bra without a second thought and tearing both it and your shirt off in a single, swift motion. He gives you little time to recover before his mouth is on your tits, kissing a sparse trail until he's rolling a perky nipple between his lips.

His bare skin feels like heaven underneath the palm of your hands as you grip his shoulders for stability. He'd take you on the cold, dressing room floors, you knew he would. A part of you wanted him to. Fuck the shoot, they should've learned well enough to put cameras in the dressing rooms by that point with how handsy Kyle Garrick always was with you.

"Can't wait until we get on set to try and undo me?" you ask breathlessly.

"Doll, I'll undo you right here and then again on set if you asked me to," he mumbles into your skin.

A quiet squeak interrupts your moment and the ambiance of the room shifts when the door to Kyle's dressing room opens. His hands grow stiff against your spine as you look over your shoulder at the figure in the doorway. You smell her perfume before you recognize her. Something drowning and floral, like a mall department store. It burns your nose, yet you're too distracted by the slack-mouth surprise etched onto the features of the new blood's face.

It's cute; her confusion. How her eyes flicker over your bare back and Kyle's hands pressed against your skin like he's cradling the only thing he cares for in the world. The dots just can't quite connect in her mind as to why he hasn't completely fallen for her yet, as if the only way she knows how to lure men is by butchering their neck with discolored marks. She can't comprehend why he'd rather have you in his lap than her.

Kyle draws a shocked groan from you when his teeth nip at your shoulder, and your eyes have no choice but to fall away from the woman in the doorway as he pulls you closer to him. His chin gently rests on your shoulder as he stares at the model, hands moving to rest on your hips.

"Need somethin?" he asks, bored.

There is very little you wouldn't have given to see the look on her face, but the small huff followed by the door slamming shut is good enough. Small giggles rattle your body as you lean back to get a better look at Kyle, as if your body would throw a fit if he wasn't within your sight. There's an inexplicable relief that floods his face as he looks up at you, and he mirrors your smile.

"What?" he defends. "Only asked her if she needed somethin."

"I think you broke her heart," you patronize.

"She'll live," he mumbles, lips falling against the crook of your neck again. "Your heart is the only one I care about, anyway."

#pornstar!gaz #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader smut #cod smut #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader smut #f!reader

[myrunawaysweets]

I loved your recent post abt human Alastor x reader in the 1920s. Of course this is only a suggestion, what if you continued on with this? Maybe like having them move in with each other, start a family? Perhaps have a tragic ending that resulted both to go to Hell, or maybe reader be a fallen angel! Just all suggestions! Have a great day/night/evening<3

I dont know how long this was in here, I was scrolling through settings to mess around and found this, so I hope you didn't wait too long!

But this is one of my specialties and I'm honestly really flattered that you made a request!

The next day, the cops found a bloodied body in the alley beside the club. The corpse was too disfigured to recognize, knees bashed in backwards, jaw hanging loosely, ribs tearing out of the chest and a smile etched into the poor bloodied face as it hung on the wall.

Surely this was the work of the smiling killer in New Orleans, who else could it be?

No one had ever laid eyes on the killer and lived to tell the tale... except you.

You had been held by the psychopath in a loving embrace, wrapped up in a blanket on his couch.

For some reason, when you looked into this man's eyes, his gorgeous brown eyes as he softly smiled at you... you felt no fear, no urge to run or hide.

Yes you knew he had killed people, that he was no better than a monster... yet you couldn't help but think what made him this way. Everyone knows not to trust a bad apple, but not everyone suspects the tree that bears bad fruit... so you couldn't blame him, after all, why would you blame the apple for the trees wrongdoing.

Instead, you held onto him and stuck close.

Now you peacefully kneaded dough as your loving boyfriend drank his bitter coffee in your bakery as a customer walked in. Marjorie, a nice old lady who came by every second day for a box of beignettes.

"(Y/n)! Have you heard the news?"

You looked up from your dough, flour had stuck to your apron as you wiped your hands "What news, ma'am?"

"Theres been another murder!" As the words left her lips you could see alastor tense up as you studied him.

The poor lady was shaking as she opened her purse "it was a young fellow around your age! He had such a long life ahead of him too..."

You could see alastors hands shakily lift his cup to his lips.

"What a terrible thing! Here, have these on the house, as a thank you for your patronage" you smiled, handing her the box and pushing her change back towards her gently.

The lady smiled with a thank you before turning to leave.

"Say hello to Mr Broussard for me will you?" You waved at her as she closed the door.

As soon as the door closed you slammed the oven shut with the bread inside.

"ALASTOR HARTFELT!"

The coffee spewed from his lips as he stood up to face you "honey listen-"

"Don't you 'honey' me! You promised you'd stop this!" You placed your apron on the counter as you circled around to meet him at the cashier "You said you were out to go hunting!" You poked his chest as you cornered him.

"(Y/n) it wasn't a lie! I was hunting! For the scum of the earth!" Alastor held his hands up in defense from your accusations, trying to reason with you and get back onto your good side.

"You know damn well what I think of your little hunting!" You grabbed your purse and started for the door before he blocked your path.

"(Y/n), dearest, where are you going?" His smile could not hide the panic in his eyes.

"Away from you, I'll be at mimzys until you can decide which one you'd prefer to give up "you pushed him aside and opened the door "me? Or your little 'huntin'?" You slammed the door as you walked to mimzys club.

Just because you didn't care that he did the murders before, didn't mean you were okay with him continuing them. Part of you thought you could eventually get him to see the good in the world again and leave behind this cold blooded killing, he loved you enough to do that at least right? Then maybe when you two grow old and wrinkly, God could open the golden gates for both of you... if your foolish boyfriend could ever stop hurting innocent people...

You sat on the stool with mimzy, drinking a glass of wine.

"I just don't get it! How can he keep choosing to go 'hunting' almost every night, mimz?! Doesn't he see the danger?" You sighed.

The short blonde looked at you "what can I say dollface? Boys will be boys! They've gotta have some sort of hobby, an most of the time, it's a gruesome one! Why can't they just take up knittin or even painting? Always hunting or boxing I say" mimzy took a swig "and every night? That's harsh! Doesn't he see how pretty you are?"

The two of you giggled.

Nights like these were always nice, just you and mimzy sitting in the empty bar, drinking and talking the night away.

"At this point mimzy, I think its better for me to just stay alone though, it doesn't seem like he's changing anytime soon and I don't know how long I can take this" you looked down at the glass, running your finger along the brim...

"Its okay girly" mimzy rested her hand on your shoulder "I'm sure he'll come around eventually, either way, I'm here for ya"

She really was one of your best friends.

Your conversation was interrupted when you heard a slight creak in the floorboards behind you two, making you turn around.

"This place is really getting old, I'm gonna need to find a way to get a new place" mimzy sighed.

The night went by fast as you two talked, and before you know it, you were right back in front of your bakery, sign lights were off as you opened the door, silently clicking the lock before making your way to the upstairs where your humble abode resided.

Alastor most likely went to blow off some steam, he tended to do that after your arguments/fallout.

You had left in such a hurry that you forgot to take out the bread from the oven, but luckily, alastor had seen you bake many times and finished the loaf before placing it on the cooling rack.

By the time you finished downstairs, it was midnight as you started walking upstairs, exhausted from the days work and alastor fiasco.

When you opened your door, you were met with a nervous Alastor standing straight and tense in front of you.

"I have something to say-" you both said in unison.

Alastor seemed to tremble as the words left your lips, still unable to make eye contact.

"I know it's not very gentlemanly of me, but may I go first?" His words almost came out as a mumble as his smile was strained.

You nodded, indicating he may continue.

"Thank you" Alastor took a shaky breath before looking you in the eyes "darling, I know I haven't made it easy for you with my... hunting... but I promise-"

Anger boiling in your blood, you interrupted him "do you know how many times you've told me that lie, Alastor?" Your nose scrunched up in anger as you tried to hold back tears "how many more times am I going to keep hearing this?"

Alastors wide eyes showed the fear he had of losing you, making your heart ache even more than it already was.

"I promise... my dear, this is the truth" Alastor took a gentle step forward, eyes trained on the ground.

placing your hands in his "I've put a lot of thought into it... and although I don't like the idea of being unable to kill those filthy vermin... I realized i can't live in a world without you in my arms"

Alastor ran his fingers gently over your knuckles, a gentle smile placed on his lips, almost dropping to a frown.

"I can change... and I know you want me to, I'll put in the effort to become the man you want, the man you need..." Alastor lifted your hand to his lips, closing his eyes as he placed a soft kiss.

The anger you felt died down, but still hesitant, you asked "how can I be sure you mean it?"

Finally looking back into your eyes again, he knelt down on one knee, still holding your hands "I, Alastor Hartfelt, would like to ask you, (y/n) (l/n), for your hand in marriage, I swear on my mother's grave that I will never take your words lightly, love you with undying devotion, and never kill again" he then rested his forehead onto your knuckles gently before he desperately whispered "please"

This proposal was not exactly practical, considering your argument not even 6 hours ago. There was no ring, no classy dinner, it wasn't how anyone would imagine a marriage proposal, yet here you were, heart beating rapidly as you felt tears fill your eyes.

Your words felt stuck in your throat as you looked into your lovers eyes "do you mean it?"

For what felt like the first time, Alastors smile dropped as his face held a serious expression "with all my heart, ma' cherie"

Your knees buckled as you fell into his arms, tears streaming down your face as you held your lover tightly, whispering out a shaky "Yes" into his chest.

Months went by, the wedding went off without a hitch.

Mimzy was your maid of honor. No one else was really there for your wedding, considering your family had cut ties with you years ago, and all Alastors' relatives were either deceased or overseas.

Nonetheless it was a happy and joyful union.

Alastor had kept true to his word and never killed another human, kissing your shiny ring every night like a reminding prayer.

Your bakery gained popularity since you were now Mrs Hartfelt. But popularity has its downsides... it wasn't long until women started talking about you, jealous of your position as Alastors wife.

The words themself didn't hurt you much, but the constant harassment and inability to leave the house without being called a harlot, that was slowly getting to you.

Alastor had assured you many nights before bed that things would get better, and if need be, he would give up his career as a radio host. The poor man would do anything for your happiness, anything to assure that you'd stay his forever...Even kill if you'd permit him to.

But there was only so much Alastor could do... it wasn't until one evening when you failed to show up to your shared home that he began to lose it.

Alastor was on edge, thinking of all the possibilities, you could've been held back at the bakery by a man who held ill intentions, you could be checking in with mimzy or got taken by a jealous fan. So many thoughts raced through his head as he slowly made his way to the door to look for you, eventually deciding against it, sitting back down as he patiently waited for your return...

Except you didn't.

It wasn't until a whole sleepless night had passed when he decided to go search for you. But of course, he came home empty handed. Were you unhappy in this marriage? Did you elope with a man he didn't know about? Did you realize you didn't love him and run away?

The second option was to call the police, something he's never done before.

The police launched an investigation, it was only until a month later, you were found in an alleyway, someone had called the cops about a crazy woman attacking a man, the situation escalated to the man killing her in self-defense.

They found traces of drugs in your blood, filing you as a drug abuser.

your body was frail and malnourished, pale like it had been weeks since you last seen the sun.

Alastor was called to the scene to see if this lady was indeed his wife.

When he arrived, he felt like the world was about to open up and swallow him whole.

As his eyes fell onto your pale lifeless body, something snapped inside of him.

You were never one to use drugs, never one to attack someone for no reason... something was wrong.

He knelt down and held your hand with tears in his eyes. Although he had seen many dead bodies in his life, this was the one body he never wanted to see like this.

He hated how your body was treated the same as the trash that walked the earth, like a lowly peasant when instead, the world should weep for the loss of you.

'This is all wrong' he thought, as he cradled your body in his lap as your blood stained his white shirt, but he couldn't care less as the last ray of light left his dark world.

It was long after your funeral, he hasn't been able to sleep since then. Every night he'd wait until daybreak for your arrival, like this was all some twisted joke.

It wasn't until one day he realized you needed revenge.

Yes, he promised to never kill anyone, but that was when you were alive, when you were beside him, when he was able to fall asleep with you by his side every night, Before you were selfishly taken from him.

He hasn't slept in days, maybe weeks? He couldn't remember... all he knew was that the man needed to pay for what he did to you...

It took a while but he eventually found the lying heathen.

There he was, sitting at mimzys bar, the same bar he met you, sitting on the same stool that YOU would sit on... it made Alastor sick watching this man live like he didn't take you away from him.

Alastor walked in, and sat beside the wretched man.

"You seem familiar" Al questioned, sipping on his whiskey.

The smug bastard grinned before turning to him "I'm the hero that took down that crazy bitch not long ago"

It took all of Alastors' willpower to seem calm and oblivious.

"My, you must be quite the hero then, let me buy you a drink and you can tell me ALL about it" Alastor motioned for a drink to be served, and the unknowing bastard fell right into Alastors wicked game.

It didn't take long to say the least. This prick was an easy target, and now here he was, being buried in a forest in the middle of nowhere.

You surely would not be happy with your dear husband actions... but who could stop him now?

For months, the spilling killer of New orleans went on a rampage, almost no one was safe, not even dear old Marjorie...

Eventually, alastor had killed all the men and women involved in your kidnapping and drugging... and here he was, burying the last one...

What would he do now? You weren't there for him to return to... all his plans revolved around your future with him

I guess all he could do now

.

.

.

Was Die

As if on cue, a bullet pierced Alastors skull straight through his forehead... as everything went black...

Hello! I've been working on this for a while now, at least a week, and I think I'm just going to make another part for this, keep an eye open for it cause it will hold the afterlife of these two lovers!

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #human alastor x reader #human alastor

[writersdrug]

You and Konig spend the night drinking and wake up to each other <3

Unsure if we’re hung over or still drunk

König and you being drunk homebodies

Warnings: vomiting/emetophobia trigger warning!! Mentions of sex, drunk reader and König, fluff, König being the caring partner we all crave

A/N: I know exactly who requested this and I'm sorry it took so long 😭 I don't even have an excuse, it just say on the back burner, but here you go! Enjoy~

Photo credit to 661ave

You don't remember much from the night before: just glimpses of this and that.

You and König dressed up for the awards ceremony, a glass of wine in each of your hands, managing to convince him to dance with you... holding some bronze, dark cocktail in your hands as König insists it's the best thing Germany ever made. From there, it only gets worse.

You remember laughter and giggles, promises whispered into your ear, making you blush... König pulling you outside of the event, nearly tripping over your own feet as he dragged you into a taxi... watching as he threw a wad of cash at the angry driver as you both shamelessly made out in the backseat of the car... continuing the fiasco on the loveseat in your home...

And then it goes black.

Last night, you felt like a couple of teenagers escaping a party. Now, you felt like you'd just finished a triathlon.

You groaned. The sunlight peering through the blinds was too bright, your stomach churned, your head was pounding, and there was something heavy and warm draped over your middle. You tried to push it off, to no avail - König made a sound, and his fingers twitched against your side.

"König..."

"... mm..."

"Get off..."

"... m... mh-mm..."

You sighed. You needed water - your mouth was drier than a desert, and every cell in your body screamed for hydration. You could stand to take a bath, too.

You tried turning your head to look at König - which was a mistake. The entire room spun dangerously, and your stomach threatened to empty its contents then and there. You slapped a hand over your mouth and threw Königs arm off of your body with all your might. You stumbled into the bathroom, crashing into the door frame and collapsing on your knees. You barely made it to the toilet in time to spill last night's dinner, gripping the edge of the bowl like it was your lifeline.

God, you thought, when was the last time I was hungover like this? Highschool?

As you were emptying your stomach, you felt a hand scoop your hair back and away from your face. You saw König out of the corner of your eye - he was only in his boxers, sliding down the edge of the tub to sit next to you, his legs splayed out before him. He held his other hand over his eyes as you finished your business.

You panted, pulling the handle to flush and squeezing your eyes shut. Your stomach felt better, but your head was pounding, like you were being stoned. "Thanks..." You mumbled to König, and he grunted in response.

"Better?" He asked, still shielding his eyes from the bathroom light.

You groaned. "Yeah." You sat back on the cool tile, leaning against his chest. "Never trusting any of your recommendations again, by the way."

He exhaled, possibly meant to be a laugh. He let go of your hair and rested his hand on your thigh. Watching his thumb rub soothing circles into your skin made you feel dizzy. To be honest, you couldn't be sure that you weren't still drunk. Between the spinning room and the lightness in your chest, there may have been a bit of drunkenness left in your mind - but that could have also been from vomiting.

"Let's not do that again..." You mumbled.

"Mhm..." he said, his voice hoarse from dehydration. "What was it we did?"

"Idunno. You told me to try a drink - I think I had three- no, four..."

"Jägermeister..." he mumbled in a pained voice.

You both sat there for a few minutes, eyes squeezed shut as you focused on breathing. The feeling of König's breath washing over the crown of your head was soothing, even in your half-dead state. You would have been content to stay like that, sat up against him on the cold, bathroom floor as you recovered from your hangover.

Eventually, König threaded his hands under your armpits and helped you stand, guiding you into the bathrub behind you. He murmured something in your ear about "need to get something", before he turned on the shower and let the cold water hit you. You griped and tried to change it to a warmer setting, but he told you to let it run for a few minutes. "It'll feel better, schatz."

He left the bathroom door open as he trudged - stumbling was a better word - into the living room. Despite the constant fogginess in his mind, and the ache in his legs, he was a man on a mission to take care of his partner (and afterwards, himself). He began picking up all the clothes that he had torn off of you and himself in a hasty desire for drunken sex. He would have gotten hard at the memory of him plowing you into the sofa, and at the sound of your drunken moans and giggles as he struggled to hold himself above you - but his hangover prevented him from having any sort of reaction to said memories. The most he could do was laugh and snatch your panties that were hanging off the corner of the TV.

He piled the clothes next to the washer and dryer, then moved into the kitchen. He fixed two thermouses of water for the both of you, and grabbed an extra glass and an Alka seltzer for him. He carried the items back to the bedroom, peeking into the bathroom as he passed.

You stood in the shower as the freezing water hit your back, hugging yourself and shivering at that point. You eventually gave up waiting for König and turned the knob to the left; you sighed in relief as the warmth seeped into your bones, melting away some of the fogginess in your head and making you feel less grimy. You leaned your forehead against the tile in front of you - your stomach lurched a bit, but you knew there was nothing else to come up.

You heard König slide into the shower behind you, but you kept your head against the tile. He whispered something in German that you were too exhausted to decipher. His hand gently slid onto your forehead as he pulled you back against him. You leaned there, eyes closed as you let his scent wash over you.

"Mein liebling..." he murmured, massaging his fingers into your shoulder muscles.

"Don't call me that." You spoke softly. "You tried to poison me last night."

He chuckled, rubbing a warm, wet cloth over your neck and shoulders. "Almost took myself out, too, didn't I?"

After a moment of standing in the silence with him, feeling drag the cloth softly over your face, you realized that he was replicating your nighttime skincare routine. Except, it was currently one in the afternoon, and you normally don't do it in the shower. You would have told him that he was using the wrong kind of cloth to clean your face, but you decided to keep your mouth shut. Both out of gratitude and the comfort of his touch.

He carefully finished washing your face, then your body, making sure to be gentle and slow. He whispered unintelligible phrases against your scalp as he turned off the water. He pulled you into the center of the bathroom and wiped you down with a towel - you were practically asleep standing up, but he made sure to hold you steady.

After you both brushed your teeth together, he helped you pull on some clothes, before letting you crawl back into the bed. He then went back into the bathroom to finish drying himself off. You kept your eyes closed, listening to the ambiance of König's movements, combined with the sound of the breeze outside.

You looked towards the window and noticed he had cracked it open. You also noticed there was a thermos and a sleeve of crackers on the nightstand, right within your reach. You felt a sudden onslaught of emotions and tears forming in the corners of your eyes; maybe it was because you were hungover (or at this point, possibly still drunk, you couldn't tell), but it finally broke the damn, and you began to cry, quiet sobs and sniffles breaking the near silence in the bedroom.

Instantaneously, you heard König nearly breaking his legs as he floundered over to you. The towel he had held had yet to hit the floor by the time he was kneeling by your side.

"Was? Was ist falsch? Are you ok?" He said, placing a hand on your forehead with a worried expression.

You let out a sob. "Nothing, it's stupid- you're too good to me... you're hungover too- and you- you did all this shit for me- 'n here I am, not doing anything at all for you-" your words melded with your sobs, which had taken over the conversation.

He sighed with relief, petting the crown of your head and planting a kiss there. "Liebling... I'll always take care of you- even when I don't feel gut." he murmured. "You always come first - but I promise I'll take care of myself too, ok? Just for you."

You sniffled again and nodded. "M'kay..." You mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to stop the flow of tears - you needed all the hydration you could get.

"Although, promise me one thing-"

"Hmm?"

"Let's not to do this again. It's not good for you, and I can't take care of you properly when I'm like this."

You nodded again. You'd rather be in hell than have this bad of a hangover. "Promise."

König placed a satisfied kiss to your forehead again, muttering a quick "Geh schlafen, süßes Mädchen..." into your scalp. He stood back up and headed back to the bathroom, picking up the discarded towel and rubbing it over his hair. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, scoffing at the bags under his eyes. Not what I used to be, eh? He thought.

He headed back into the room and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the dresser, and lazily tugged them on. He thought about putting on a shirt, but the idea of it made him cringe. He felt overstimulated enough as it was - the shirt would just feel suffocating. He then shuffled over to the bed and climbed in, pulling you against him with an arm wrapped around your waist. He sighed, tucking your head underneath his chin.

"At least we have all weekend, ja?" He said quietly.

You didn't respond, making him crane his neck to look down at you. "Schatz?" He said, holding his hand in front of your nostrils. He knew you were alive, of course - but the feeling of your warm, slow breaths against his fingers granted him peace of mind.

He chuckled, tucking his hand back around your waist as you slumbered on. "Süße Träume, mein liebe." He whispered, curling around you and letting his eyes fall shut.

------------

Bleh I wasn't too confident with this one, but I'm trying to clear out my drafts so I pushed it out. Hope yall like it! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 🥰

#konig x reader #konig #call of duty #konig cod #konig fluff #konig headcanons #konig blurbs #cod x reader

[mint-yooxgi]

What About Me? - San X Reader

Part of the CODN Spring Event - The Language of Flowers

Genre: Angst, Non-idol!AU, Best Friend!AU

Pairing: San X GN!Reader

Words: 1,704

Rating: E for Everyone :)

Warnings: Jealousy, alluded to the fact reader doesn't have a shirt on at times

A/n: So, I really wanted to play around with how different flowers have different meanings, and could be interpreted differently depending on the person. Hehe, As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: An innocent gesture, or something much deeper?

Yellow Rose - Jealousy

The sound of his knock echoes loudly in his ears as San stands on your front porch. A bundle of flowers rests in his hands, shifting himself from foot to foot as he waits for you to answer the door. You had asked him to come over, and as he recalls the reason why, he cannot help but let out a sigh.

“Oh, good!” You grin as soon as the front door swings open. “You’re here!”

Without wasting another moment, you tug him inside.

“Andy will be here soon, and I just can’t decide if I should wear the red shirt, or the yellow shirt!” Your voice is a little frantic as you waste no time marching right back into your room.

You didn’t even notice the flowers.

Slipping off his shoes, San follows you silently into your bedroom where he already sees you tossing clothing everywhere onto the floor. You’re rambling about this new guy you met - Andy - and San cannot help but to nod almost absentmindedly along to your words.

He’ll give it a week, and then you’re sure to come crying to him again about how yet another man has disappointed you. Another man that isn’t him.

If only you would give him a chance. Maybe then you could see just how much of a gentleman he could be to you. He already treats you like royalty, but you simply refuse to acknowledge that anything is there.

San knows he’s not the only one that sees it. All of your other friends have always commented on the chemistry the two of you share. From jokes about getting married, to teasing remarks about already being a seasoned couple, every comment seemingly goes right over your head. That, or you simply refuse to acknowledge how well you two fit together.

No. After so many years together, you refuse to acknowledge San as anything but your friend.

It drives him insane. Can’t you see how much he cares for you? Do you not realize the extents he would go to lay the whole world at your feet, if only you asked him to? Either way, San knows that he’s desperately in love with you, but you never seem to feel the same way.

Letting out another sigh, San sits forward. Resting his elbows on his knees, he fiddles with the large bouquet in his hands as your voice dies out in your throat.

Finally, it seems as if he’s gotten your attention.

“Who are those for?” You blink curiously, leaning into him so that he can practically smell your intoxicating perfume over the scent of the yellow roses clutched in his hands. “Did you finally manage to score a date yourself after so long?”

San’s gaze, which had been intently focuses on the blooming flowers, shifts upwards to met your own.

“No. If I were bringing flowers for a date, they wouldn’t be yellow.” He hums, sitting up fully in his spot.

“I was gonna say,” you chuckle, moving back over to your closet to pick out another shirt. This time, it’s purple. His favourite colour. “If you’re going to get roses for someone whom you’re romantically involved, yellow is probably the worst colour you could choose.”

“Oh?” San quirks a brow at you, watching you intently.

“Yeah.” You hum casually, turning back to face him once your slip on your shirt. “Don’t you know that yellow roses signify friendship?”

This time, both his brows raise at you in mild disbelief. “Do they?”

That’s certainly not what he was going for, but if that’s how you want to interpret them, who is he to stop you. It’s probably better if you think that, anyways. The last thing he needs is to get into another argument with you over his jealousy.

“So…” you trail off, a knowing grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “Who are they for?”

“Well, obviously I brought them for you.” He offers you the bouquet of roses, just as he’s always offered you his heart.

And like always, his meaning seems to go right over your head.

“Oh, Sannie!” A brilliant smile stretches out across your features as you reach out to take the flowers from his hands. “You shouldn’t have!”

Little do you see the way his whole body jolts, his breath hitching as your fingers brush lightly over his skin. The gently kiss of gratitude you place upon the skin of his cheek only serves to make the warmth in his chest blossom, spreading outwards pleasantly. All the way until it reaches the very tips of his fingers.

“What’s the occasion?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice as you walk out of your room and towards the kitchen.

San, of course, is eager to follow you out, his eyes drooping slightly as he purses his lips. Though, the moment you turn around, a glass vase in hand, he’s back to looking every part of the chipper male you’ve come to know.

“Can I not bring flowers to the most beautiful person I know?” The corner of his lips quirk upwards, but the grin doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“You can bring me flowers like this anytime, Sannie Boy,” You giggle, and the melodic sounds sets his heart racing inside of his chest.

Hearing such a joyful sound, and knowing that he’s the cause of it… well… to him, there is no greater feeling. Even if he’s stuck as your friend for all eternity, that is where he wants to stay. There is no place he would rather be than by your side, where he knows he’s always belonged. His only wish is that he could be more.

“I’m just glad you like them.” His reply is gentle, glancing up at you through his lashes.

San watches you as you place the bouquet in that glass vase, noting the way your fingertips gently trace over the side of the silken petals. If only he could being doing the same to you right now. He’d pull you close, his arms wrapped securely around you as he whispers that you’ll never have to worry about another thing ever again. He would tell you all about his promises to protect you, to be there for you, and how he only wants to make you smile every and any chance he gets.

You are the light of his life, and he only ever wants to be the light in yours.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” He blinks, so caught up in his own thoughts for the moment, that the final touch he had brought with him nearly slips his mind. 

Reaching into his pocket, San pulls out a small red ribbon. Stepping forward, he ties a simple, neat bow around the stems of the roses, smiling at you all the while.

“San.” A soft smile pulls at your features, a hand coming up to rest over your heart as you breathlessly sigh his name. “Thank you.”

“I’m just glad you like them.” He repeats his words from moments earlier, inclining his head softly. 

His eyes shine with nothing but adoration for you, longing to step forward and cup your cheek in his hand. Only, he cannot. So, he’ll happily settle for the small moments, such as this, that you give him now.

You meet his gaze, that tender expression still pulling at your features. An expression of which that causes San’s heart to absolutely flutter inside of his chest.

“Oh, I more than like them, Sannie.” You pause in your movements of brushing your thumb over a petal as you smile at him. “I love them.”

You tug a single rose free from its confines in the vase, careful not to ruin the beautiful display.

“What are you doing?” San quirks a brow, watching as you step closer to him with that single rose in your hand.

A blink, and you offer it to him with a large smile stretching across your features.

“Giving my best friend a flower.” You reply cheekily. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Though your meaning might be vastly different than his, his heart still warms at the action. 

He wastes no time in reaching out to gently grasp the stem you offer him, bringing the fresh bloom to his nose and inhaling its scent.

The corner of his lips twitch upwards.

Just as he goes to respond, another knock sounds at your door. The way you visibly perk up, scurrying over to answer whoever it is, makes San’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

You had just been sharing such a tender moment, too…

With one final look at the golden bouquet, San turns away. Letting out a long breath through his nose, he walks towards your font door, leaning on the wall lightly with his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze scans over this new guy - Andy - and the first thing San notices is how empty his hands are.

Not even a single flower for you.

San shakes his head. His eyes narrow pointedly at the tall male across from him, hand tightening on the single stem held in his own hand.

“Sorry I’m late,” Andy says, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head sheepishly. “You look beautiful.”

At the giggle you let out, San feels his heart squeeze painfully in his chest once more.

He purses his lips, listening to you chat excitedly with this new male, who, in San’s opinion, does not deserve even a second of your attention.

Andy doesn’t bring you flowers. 

San does.

“Alright, I’ll be back later.” You say, reaching for your bag as you send one final look San’s way.

San can only offer you a tight smile in return, your focus almost immediately back on Andy as soon as those words are out of your mouth. He can only watch on, a crushing pain in his chest, as you exit through the front door, waving a final goodbye to him over your shoulder.

As San watches you walk away from him, yet again, in the arms of another male, that familiar jealous beast inside of him rears its ugly head.

The stem of the yellow rose finally snaps in his hand.

#cultofdionysusnet #code: spring24 #san x reader #san imagines #san drabble #san angst #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez drabble #atz x reader #atz angst #atz scenarios #atz drabble #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop x reader #kpop au #ateez au #san au #kpop drabble

[grimm-writings]

on my hands and knees begging you to write that legally blonde idea… obsessed with the idea of reader thinking chil wants to get back w his ex vs chil just wanting to be friends and crushing hard on reader

take it like a man!

…ft! chilchuck x fem! reader

…tags! fluff, reader is into fashion

…wc! 2294

…notes! chilchuck tims and emmett forrest are the same to me (my type). this is so incredibly self indulgent thank you for enabling me anon.  a lot of dialogue is paraphrased from the song/show, such is the way of songfics. enjoy!

Oh, how Chilchuck wished he could say no to you.

He didn’t know what he was expecting from you and Marcille’s ‘sweep your wife off her feet operation’, otherwise shortened to SYWOHF which Chilchuck pointed out was an awful name for a campaign.  You elected to ignore him.

In actuality, he really wanted to just do this his own way.  What he had in mind was just to pay a visit and talk things through.  As those with a little womanly touch, you and Marcille knew that wouldn’t be enough.  Chilchuck had to prove he was serious about this – that he really wanted his wife back in his life!

Seeing how excited you were showing off your step by step plan… he didn’t have the heart to tell you that he really just wanted to remain friends with her.

So, here he is.  Having his eyes covered by your hands as you guide him through the busy streets of… who knows where.

“Almost there,” your breathless though excited voice reaches his ears, “I promise!”

You finally slow to a stop, and Chilchuck also gets the chance to speak about his thoughts on this.  Simply being, “this is pointless.  We don’t need to be doing all this.”

Scoffing, you fold your arms.  “Don’t be like that!  A conversation isn’t the only way to win her over.”

“No,” Chilchuck starts, “but it would sure make me look desperate!”  He swats your hands off and away from his face.  His back is turned away from the building you’re arguing outside of, not even bothering to see what you’re doing.

You frown.  Chilchuck doesn’t easily get so frustrated with you.  That’s what people usually say – if anyone can convince him to do anything, it’d be you.  “Chil,” you try to appeal.  You even try physically reaching out, hand hovering over his shoulder.  “Work with me here.  We can do this in a way that will prove yourself, and let her know you’ve changed.  For the better.”

Chilchuck listens to you, sparing you a sidelong glance as you go on with your speech.  “You make it sound like we’re in some romance novel.  This isn’t ‘for the better’ I just want to talk to her.”

“No you don’t, you want her back in your life!”

“Well…!”  Chilchuck stutters at how blunt your words are.  You are way too observant for your own good.  He never knows how to talk to you cooly when you do this.  “Well, of course I do!  And I can do that by slowly building up trust between us again, without rushing anyone.”

Where Chilchuck expects begging to follow through with your scheme, you simply look at him with a cold expression– colder than he’s ever seen you wear.  “So you have the chance to run away again if things get too much?  Sacrificing your integrity?”

You’re both lucky this little nook in the streets was away from most crowds.  Save for the passersby' conversations, the silence would have been strife with weight.  Chilchuck opens his mouth, then closes it again.  He repeats the action, and tries to use his hands to communicate his thoughts to no avail.

He settles for turning away from you in angered shame, fists balled at his sides and tips of his ears growing red.  “...I guess.”

You smile, knowing you have swayed the half-foot to your side.  Even in the dungeon, your debates went this way.  Chilchuck would present a cynical, logical approach whilst you were more realistic – something your appearance doesn’t really match with.  Chilchuck thinks he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Not like he’d say that to your face.

Hearing your confident hum, Chilchuck sighs and turns back to you.  “Why do you always have to be right?”  He complains about this constantly.  You always seem to one-up him in ways he can never prepare for.

“I don’t have to be,” your attitude and voice returns to its usual, jovial form, “when I’m with you, I just am!”

You reach over to Chilchuck once more right as he’s about to make a scathing comment back at you.  His face is a bit too close for comfort with a wooden door, an entrance somewhere.

“You trust me to help you impress your wife, don’t you?”  You ask, with a clear sense of finality.

Chilchuck doesn’t think he has much of a choice in the matter.  “...Of course,” he responds honestly but you can hear his voice waver.

He can practically sense your smile from behind.  “Then don’t stop now.”

You wish you could say without a spot of bias that you were 100% supporting the operation at hand.  In actuality, it came with a heavy sacrifice of your own feelings remaining unsaid.  Of course you just had to fall for the semi-married man.  You have already tried to move on, from distracting yourself with an operation like this, to asking Izutsumi to pummel your head with a rock (which she was very close to doing).

This will have to do.

It was like magic, how the environment of the building interior rushes through you.  Chilchuck even feels it, his large eyes blinking as he drinks in the sight.

“...Where are we?” he asks, almost dreamily.  A beautiful ceiling lamp shines onto coloured wallpaper.  The scent reminds him of the kind of perfume Marcille would use.  It’s strangely… alluring.

You lean your face over Chilchuck’s shoulder.  “Oh, nothing much.  Just the most trendy half-foot exclusive clothing store in Kahka Brud.”  You can easily sense Chilchuck’s shock from this position – amusing you greatly.  “Here.”

You stand up behind Chilchuck again, massaging his shoulders.  “Just take a deep breath, and let it sink in.  We’ll be here for a bit so get used to the smells and lights.  Feel how it draws you in.”

“I’m feelin’ it alright,” Chilchuck responds, moreso about how he has no idea what convinces people to remain in these environments for so long without feeling overstimulated.

He already feels hot with how you’re handling him.

You move around so you’re in front of Chilchuck.  “Listen, I know this can be… overwhelming,” you start, giving the understatement of the century, “but think about who you’re doing this for.  Swallow your pride and… pick out anything you think is nice.  I’ll do the same.”

Chilchuck nods, about to set off, but not before you take his face, squishing his cheeks a comedic amount so he’s forced to pout and look you in the eye.

“Promise me you won’t run.  Take it like a man, alright?”

You let him go, and Chilchuck swears the heat on his body is from the stuffy maze of clothes stalls.  As he navigates the first selection of half-foot men’s clothes he sees, he tries to ignore the thoughts that seem to non-stop course through his brain.

He’s largely unsuccessful.

What are you getting out of this?  Some sort of second-hand pride at bringing together two estranged lovers?  Wait ‘til you find out the truth – that those aren’t where his true feelings lie.  Why can’t you leave well enough alone?

Why does he let you string him along with every plan you come up with?

You arrive back with a couple of blazer–pants combos, calling out Chilchuck’s name as you do so.  Damn, you sure are speeding through the process.

“So, I took the liberty of picking some of the more fancy kinds of suits.”  You hold them up in your arms.  “Whaddya think?”

��Suits,” Chilchuck repeats dryly, in disbelief of how far you’re taking the idea of impressing a woman.  He looks through each of the three upon seeing your determined expression.

He points at the pale pink option.  “Absolutely not.”

He gestures to the navy one with a thinner fabric.  “I like this one.”

Finally, he only spares at a glance at the creatively patterned suit.  “I think I’d sooner be fed to wargs than be seen in that.”

You assemble each of the selections in order of preference.  You muse, “I see, I see…  Something refined but masculine.  Much better than your ‘tattered chic’ look.  Like an old book forever trapped in a library.”

Chilchuck furrows his brow as you run off again.  “Wh– What’s that supposed to mean, jerk?!”

He sighs.  He watches you as you make a few more choices again, before Chilchuck tries to distract himself looking at ties.  He’s come this far.  He should trust in your instinct.  It hasn’t failed him– or anyone yet.

So what the Hell?

Before Chilchuck knows it, he’s handed the acutely sized down, perfect combination of blazer and pants, and he’s stuffed inside a changing room.  He’s instructed to change into the whole thing.

As he does so, you can’t help but pace.  This is it.  This is the winning goal to help him impress his old flame.  It’ll be like an academy romance – falling in love all over again like you’re teenagers.  You sigh longingly.  If only you can be there, in her place.

“You’re gonna look great!”  You converse with Chilchuck through the curtain.  “You’ll become a whole new man, promise!  You’ll bloom like a rose!”

“It’s just clothes,” Chilchuck, in his usual cynicism, calls back.

You return with a raspberry.  “Don’t be such a Debbie-downer.”

“Wow.  No one’s called me that since grade school.”

“Maybe not to your face.”

Even without looking at him, you can imagine the scoff and eye roll he must be giving you, interrupted by a small choke on his own spit.  “Is this the price?”

“Ignore that!” You quickly respond.  “It’s my treat!  Come out, come out, I wanna see you!”

Better to gloss over the fact you worked hard to do this for Chilchuck with a high budget.  No doubt he’d tease you or outright refuse it.  You open the curtain and pull Chilchuck out by his arm.  He quickly adjusts himself and you both stand in front of the wall length mirror.

“...Woah.”

It’s said naturally in sync.  Both of you hardly recognise the brunette half-foot in the form fitting suit and tie.  With a bit of hair maintenance and more time to actually make himself look presentable… 

“I look like Laios on a good day,” Chilchuck jokes.

Your breath caught in your throat, you can only let out, “y-yeah.”

You pray he doesn’t notice how enthralled you are in his appearance, if slightly ungroomed.

Once the moment passes, Chilchuck makes himself comfortable by loosening his tie and undoing a button or two, then putting his arms where they usually are behind his neck.  “But it’s just me.”

Without hesitation, you find yourself speaking without meaning to.  “Is that not the best part?”

Chilchuck looks at you in confusion.  “What?”

“I-I mean…” you trail off.  You look nervous.  That’s rare for you.  Usually you always had something to say.  Now you look like you’re trying to figure out how to word something in a specific way.  Why?

You move behind Chilchuck to smooth down some of his hair.  “You may look more charming but… this is all you.  Your choices, your style…  It reflects who you are on the inside.  That’s the magic of fashion.”

Chilchuck laughs a little, mostly at his own cluelessness.  He can’t believe he’s underestimated a simple shopping trip.  “Thank you,” he says, with complete sincerity.

“No.”  You shake your head.  “This is not a gift.  I’m just… This is me thanking you for how you let me get away with so much.”

Your hands land on his shoulders, and Chilchuck’s fingers find their way to interlace with yours.  For just a few more moments, you look at yourselves in the mirror.

Catching yourself, you step away from the situation – from him.  “Well?  Come on, you need to buy this.  I’d want to marry you if you took me out looking like this!”

The half-foot flushes red.  You got to know what you’re doing to him.  “That’s not really—”

“Chilchuck.  Please.”  You place your hands on your hips, looking dead serious.  “You look hot.”

…Well, he can’t argue with you.  If you really think that, then who is he to deny it?

“Fine.  I’ll get it.”

You smile that cocky grin Chilchuck has grown to love.  “That’s our man.”

Leaving the shop was like a breath of fresh, unperfumed air.  Chilchuck would nearly fall to his knees and start kissing the ground if he paid too much attention to how his legs ached.  The post shopping trip fatigue is really hitting him.

“I enjoyed this,” he however admits.  “Maybe women are onto something when it comes to clothes.”

“That’s why you should always listen to whenever a woman is speaking,” you wisely advise, making Chilchuck nod with a slight snort.

He stops at a crossroads, where you go back to his place, and he goes back to his.  “You can trust that I will now.”

“Good.”  You sigh in relief knowing your venture was successful.  Maybe too successful, because now you may lose him.

Chilchuck keeps looking at you with affection.  You can’t say you haven’t noticed how he keeps sparing you glances, mostly throughout the shopping trip.  Maybe he has warmed up to you?

Still, neither of you can stop yourselves at this point.

You approach, and for a hopeful second, Chilchuck tilts his head a bit to the left, eyelids lowering and leaning into you.  Your arms wrap around his middle.

Your face nuzzles into his neck as you hug the man tight.  Chilchuck is still for a few seconds.  A hug.  Right.  Of course you’d want a hug…  He responds in kind.

“See you soon, Chil. I wish you luck.”

“Y-Yeah.  Luck with the lady.”

Your happiness comes with a heavy sacrifice of Chilchuck’s feelings remaining unsaid.

He’ll take it like a man.

#✮ grimm's fics! #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck imagines #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck tims imagines

[lushaletta]

the dark lord and his distraction / tom riddle

pairing: fem!reader x tom riddle

content: muggleborn!reader, swearing

summary: you distract tom from his plans. and he hates it.

a/n: this is my pt. 2 to the lamb and her wolf! idk if i like this but i kinda do but Arghh idk. there will prob be a part 3. love u guys!

read part one here!

⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

“Hello!” you chirp, skipping over, books in hand.

Tom’s not looking for company. In fact, he was actively avoiding it. He couldn’t continue to be distracted by you. He had work to be done, meetings to be held. But he’s a weak man recently. “Hello.”

You set your things down and lace your arms around his neck suddenly. He’s absolutely horrified. “Thank you for your help studying, Tommy, I’ve passed my exam with full marks!”

He clears his throat and you leave a patch of goosebumps in your wake. “You’re welcome,” he drawls. “You wouldn’t have to spend so much extra time revising if you’d only paid attention in class.”

Tom knows you’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. You’d be a mistake. It’s obvious what he should do. He should send you off on your merry way and end whatever friendship has blossomed between you, so you at least have a chance at living. For someone so obsessed with immortality, Tom knew he was a dead man the moment you strut into his life, all smiles and Mary Jane’s. But he’s selfish, and so you were dead right with him, that very minute.

He doesn’t like anything you bring. He doesn’t like the reactions you elicit from calling him Tommy and he doesn’t like how you make him happy. Or hopeful. There is no hope for him. He’s destined to live a half-life and he doesn’t like that he wants to make you live that life too.

And you’re not entirely stupid. You know there’s something strange about him and that’s exactly why you come every day with your books and snacks. You’re curious. He’s haunting— a concoction of allure and fear and it’s all but enticing. “Well, who wants to do that? You’re a far better teacher.”

His face casts the ghost of a smile. “Don’t you have chess club in 15 minutes?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there,” you say, easily. Then the realisation dawns on you: You’ve never given him your schedule. “Wait a second,” you laugh. “How do you know that?”

He holds an even tone. “Not hard to guess.”

You blink. Change the topic. “You’re very pretty, you know?”

His knees almost give out and he’s seated comfortably on a chair. “Thank you,” he whispers, trying hard not to sound surprised. He’s not unaware of his good looks, but how anyone could be so casual about it is beyond him.

You’re an aberration, he thinks. No, he’s sure. You write notes in the margins of his textbooks and fall asleep on his shoulder. And when you do so, you let out the cutest little snores and purr. Like a fucking kitten. It drives him to insanity and even deeper into his spiral.

“No, like, you are super pretty. It’s kind of otherworldly.”

He’s not too sure what to say. He’s never rendered speechless by anyone, but fuck, you’re his exception to just about everything. Instead, he stiffens and breathes out a small, “That’s kind.”

Your cheeks dimple and Tom swears he sees his future. But that’s crazy. He has to remember who you are and hell, who he is. He’s the Dark Lord, evil, no matter how you see him in that pretty head of yours. And you’re a filthy Mudblood.

It’s been two days and he hasn’t seen you anywhere. He’s starting to think there *is* no cure to his hysteria because he acts crazy in both your presence and absence. He thinks about you too much in both. He’s looked everywhere; in all your classes and even your dorm that he’s managed to find.

He’s about giving up. There is no point because you’re meant to be temporary.

“Hi,” you say, breathlessly as you appear behind him, startling him into oblivion. He’s a skilled Legilimens so he should’ve heard your thoughts as you creeped up, but he was too busy with his own about you.

He conceals his relief and narrows his eyes. “You have been gone.”

You look a little disheveled but beautiful as ever. Tom doesn’t sweat, but it feels like he’s going to. “Family stuff. You know how it goes!”

Tom doesn’t know how it goes. He’s used to abandonment and lonely holidays. He doesn’t know how it goes but he knows how it feels to dread the Christmases and Easters and summers because all he can look forward to is disappointment.

He winces. You notice and cringe. You don’t know much about his family but judging by that reaction, it’s no good. “Mm,” he manages. It’s silence for a bit. Comfortable silence. He’s secretly relishing in your company. “I didn’t like it when you were gone.”

What a fucking tool.

The corners of your lips curl into a soft grin. “You are adorable!” you giggle. He’s mortified.

You haven’t really told any of your friends about your blooming acquaintanceship with Tom Riddle. After all, he’s not really known for his friendliness. But you trust Camilla. And you’ve used up the last of your excuses for bailing on meals to study with him.

“Riddle. Are you joking me?”

Your eyebrows quirk up. “No. He’s a breath of fresh air from the Hogwarts hustle. Not much of a talker though. I do most of that.”

She smiles a little like it’s expected of you but it fades once she refocuses. “He doesn’t like us Muggleborns, you know.”

“That’s silly.”

“Only true. I heard Mulciber whispering about it. Like, they really don’t like us. No wonder he’s such a git towards me in class.”

“Have you ever actually spoken to Tom, though?” You fold your arms over your chest. You’re not too sure why you’re being defensive.

“Well, no—“

“That’s what I thought! You don’t give people chances, Camilla. You rely on gossip to fuel your opinions,” you spit.

Camilla puts her hands up in surrender and starts talking about the cute Ravenclaw boy she’s planning to ask out.

“Oh! And I think Murphy fancies you! He asked me to ask you how you felt about him.”

You thought about him for a moment. He’s nothing special but he’s attractive and you’re honestly willing to give it a shot.

Tom is fuming, hearing what you think. Listening from around the corner and it’s creepy and borderline stalker-ish but he’s begun to feel a strange protectiveness over you. Frenzy and all that.

So, yes. You’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. But… you were a desire. A selfish, greedy desire.

And Tom always gets what he wants.

taglist for this series! @helalokithor @mli345 (can’t find ur blog so sorry!!) lmk if u want to be added!

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #tom riddle blurb #tom riddle x reader fluff #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fanfiction #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle drabble #tom riddle angst

[sunkissed-zegras]

YOU ASKED FOR BLURB REQUESTS!!! please write something about trevor guiding his gf through giving him head when it’s her first time

god i would suck the living shit outta that man OML

─ warnings | NSFW! read at your own discretion!! trevor being a dirty talker, praise/degradation (fav combo!! 😍), cumming... on your face..., trevor being a cocky ass (we luv him tho), uhh pretty sure nothin else

your lips slowly wrapped around trevor's cock, slowly trying to ease yourself into taking him fully. trevor was seated on his couch with his legs spread as you were on your knees in front of him, gazing up at him.

trevor swore he would've came right then and there, you barely had even started and he felt his whole body shaking. he knew this was your first time too and somehow that made it even hotter for him ─ knowing that he's the only person in the world who's ever seen you on your knees, for them.

"fuck, princess." he mumbled almost inaudibly as his hands slid down to gently guide your head slowly. "wanna go deeper, yeah? fuck, baby."

you slowly took him deeper, ignoring the strain in your throat as you did so. it felt so foreign but the way that trevor's head fell back in utter pleasure made it feel so much better. trevor's hand didn't push you in deeper which you appreciated, but he gripped your hair tightly ─ you didn't mind though.

your throat adjusted to his length slowly and as it did, you begin bobbing your head up and down, making you gag lightly. the tears began streaming down your face but you didn't care, the whimpers from trevor made it all worth.

"fuck baby, just like that. just like that," he moaned as he guided your head up and down his cock. "f-fuck, honey."

he was trying to process how this is your first time, and you're already such a natural. he felt his body get closer and closer to finishing, his cock feeling heavier with each thrust into your mouth.

"fuck, you gonna let me cum in your throat?" the dirty words from trevor's lips only made you more excited and more willing to continue your movements. "or on your face, pretty girl? fuck, you're such a slut. you sure this is your first time?"

the words only motivated you, you responded with a small moan that rippled through trevor's body. your eyes rolled back in pleasure as trevor's grip on your head hardened. "f-fuck,"

trevor pulled out just in time for the strings of thick cum to hit your face, as you moaned out. immediately, trevor's grip loosened and you both caught your breaths.

"no, seriously... that was your first time?" trevor's voice was hoarse as he spoke but you could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

you rolled your eyes in response, "i hate you."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #hockey #nhl fanfiction #nhl oneshot #hockey fic #trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras imagines #trevor zegras fluff #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x oc #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras smut #hockey imagine #trevor zegras x

[chaosinyourhouse]

Little au thing in blood lust I made up

P.S-I am not the creator of this story. It is written by Babygrillbree on ao3 and quotev. Again, I am not taking any ownership over this story. This is just something I made up. Go check out their work, I recommend it.

I didn't include the Vees in this, sorry not sorry.

So, now that that's out of the way. You guy's know how Adam died by nifty's blade? What if instead of Adam, y/n tuke the hit.

Nifty didn't mean or even want to kill you, you jumped in front of the blade when you where getting out from under the ruble of the destroyed hotel. And you saw nifty going in for the kill, you reacted on impulse, flying your way over to where the two where and you slid in the small space between nifty and Adam, causing nifty to stab you in the chest instead (the reason they got stabbed in the chest and not the stomach is because of the big size difference between y/n and Adam, nifty would have to be fully raising her arms to get to Adams stomach). And that's when shut hit the fan.

When Adam felt the weight of something on his back, he got even more pissed off. Who the fuck would touch him at a time like this?! But when he turned around, the angered scowl in his faced turned to one of horror, immediately recognizing the ears and wings, it was you. All he could do was stand there, frozen. Until he wasn't, quickly dropping to his knees he screams in absolute horror. Gaining the attention of the gang and lute.

Lute screams the way she did when Adam died in the original, but some how able to fit even more pain and horror into it. She throws the crying nifty away from your body, which was being cuddled into Adam. But even when lute tries to get close, Adam shakes his head at her, shielding you more, now wrapping his slightly trembling wings around your corpse. All she can do is sit there with a look of shock and anger.

Mean while, the gang isn't doing any better. Angel had colopsed on the floor, sobbing and wailing. Husk wrapping his arms around him in an attempt to soothe him, but he couldn't really do that when he wasn't very stable either. Crying as well, struggling to keep his inner turmoil to himself. Charlie was in a similar state, the only difference being her full demon form appearing again. Vaggie crying along with her, though she didn't move, not knowing how to process the situation happening in front of her at the moment. Though instead of sadness, she is filled with anger. And Lucifer, oh deer god. Times what you're imagining by 100. Because it's not even close. He would've came over to Adam and lute to retrieve your body if it wasn't for the fact his anger immobilized him, his body and wings trembling tremendously as memories flash through his mind; those stupid but adorable pranks you pulled on him, when he always cooked with you, when he could cuddle you, when he could feel you, when you where still alive. It's a shame alastor wasn't there, but he'll find out soon enough.

With a angered filled gaze, Adam picks you up. Calling to the exercise that the extermination was over, flapping his wings with you in his arms as he flys to the portal, lust not far behind. This snaps the gang out of their trance, looking out in despair as Adam disappears with your corpse from their sight.

Once their in heaven, Adam quickly runs to his bed, setting you down. He looks over at you, some where in the back of his head, he knew you weren't coming back. But he had a little bit of hope, walking out of the room, but not before taking a glance at you, and walking off.

Little did any of them know, Sir Penctious wasn't the only one getting a second chance.

Note- good lord I am not okay.

#hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel angel dust x reader #hazbin hotel lute x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel charlie x reader #yandere adam x reader #yandere lucifer x reader #yandere charlie x reader #yandere lute x reader #yandere husk x reader #yandere angle dusk x reader #yandere alastor x reader #blood lust on ao3 #blood lust by babygrillbree #Babygrillbree on ao3 #Babygrillbree #mother please feed me

[poppadom0912]

Request

Matt Casey and Wife Reader

There’s a big crash and 51 gets called out to it and they find Matt’s wife’s car in the crash all smashed up and Matt’s pregnant wife unconscious and hurt inside with their toddler son Jack who is crying. So Matt and the 51 guys do their best to save the family of their own Captain.

Warnings: Car crash, canon-typical injuries, death.

A/N: Once again, one month later. Life is not vibing right now but it's okay. I hope anyone who celebrated Eid had a wonderful time! very belated Eid Mubarak.

I hope this suffices and meets your expectations. I know this was sent ages ago and I apologise for the very long wait, I've just had zero inspiration and drive to write. This month has been very stressful with exams but please do enjoy!!

Matt was angsty and restless ever since his 24-hour shift started. There was no reason as to why he was but no matter what he did, he couldn't get rid of the feeling. He tried sleeping it off, eating lunch and even calling you when they weren't busy, but he still felt unnerved.

Just as he was about to text you, wanting to quickly check in again, something he'd been doing much more regularly now that you were pregnant along with looking after your toddler, the bells rang.

Internally groaning, Matt tried ignoring whatever his body was trying to scream at him and rushed towards the trucks, everyone quickly getting their uniform on before jumping into their 'allocated' seats.

It didn't take too long to arrive at the scene, the mess being much larger than what they anticipated. But maybe this was good, the more work he had to do, the less time he had to himself and to contemplate on whatever was bothering him today. The scene was one large mess, cars mangled together for what seemed like miles.

Maybe this was the exact distraction he needed.

Boden began shouting orders, Kelly and him following as they too started to delegate roles between their own respective crews. With equipment in hand, everyone scattered to hopefully start minimising this massive mess. From the looks of it, several casualties were to be expected with many more injured.

Squeezing between cars, Matt looked through broken windows looking for anyone who was stuck or left behind, also keeping an ear out for any shouts of help. Only, he didn't hear anyone shouting for help, but he heard crying.

It wasn't piercing like a newborn; he knew that sound well, but it sounded like a child and that made his heart skip a beat. Ever since Jack was born, calls involving kids become infinitely worse to handle.

Running towards the crying, Matt held his breath in an attempt to hear better, but his feet suddenly came to a stop before his brain could even register what was happening.

That was your car that along with many others, was laying on its side.

Matt vividly remembered you telling him your plans for the day this morning while he got ready for work and you fed Jack. You were going to run to the office to pick up some bits before taking Jack out to the trampoline park with some of his friends and other mums.

Apparently, you never made it to the park.

The crying continued and everything came crashing down on him. It wasn't just any crying, he recognised it easily now that he was closer.

Rushing forward, Matt ignored the broken glass and dropped to his knees as he looked for his family.

He saw you first. Your eyes shut, blood trailing down your forehead, head slumped to the side and seatbelt digging into your body that sat unmoving.

He then looked in the back where the crying hadn't stopped, Jack's eyes screwed shut as he wailed, the occasional 'mama' audible between cries.

"Jack. Daddy's here Jack." Matt forced out, his throat constricting at the sight of his hurt family. First things first, he had to get Jack settled and out the car before he could get you out. "Jack, it's me."

His crying calmed down, eyes peeling open as his crying slowly eased when he found his father.

"Are you okay Jack? You hurt anywhere baby?" Matt asked, easily taking apart the door and getting in besides the car seat.

"Daddy." Finally having one of his parents with and responding to him, Jack started to cry again, making grabby hands towards Matt as his words went through one ear and out the other.

"It's okay. I've got you now." Matt cooed, unbuckling from his car seat and before he could do anything, Jack launched himself into his dad's open arms.

A small oof was forced out of Matt from the sudden force of Jack catapulting into him. But he tightly wrapped his arms around his toddler nonetheless, his chest somewhat lighter with his boy safe in his embrace.

"Matt, is that- oh shit." Kelly swore as he rounded the car, eyes going wide as he saw father and son.

"I'm taking him to Sylvie." Matt started, holding out Jack for Kelly to take so he could jump out of the car that was still on its side and creaking with every movement he made. Without another word, Kelly took his godson and waited for Matt to get out before handing him back over.

"I'm waiting on Cruz and Violet." Kelly said, his eyes remaining on the father and son duo, both of their arms wrapped tightly around the other in fear of being separated again. "We've got Y/N, I promise."

Matt didn't even bat an eye when his best friend made a promise, one of which they were never allowed to make as first responders.

With another glance at your unconscious body, Matt held his breath as he stepped away, his heart constricting when Jack realised what was happening, trying his best to not crumble at his toddler's cries for his mama who wasn't responding to him.

*****

Somehow, Jack came out of the crash relatively unharmed besides the few cuts and bruises. He was for sure to be sore for the rest of the week. You however, your physical state was harder taking into account your pregnancy and they could only do so much in an ambulance.

It took them some time, but they had gotten you out safely, laying down still unmoving on a backboard. There were two of you but only one of him and with the way Jack was gripping his uniform jacket, there was no way he could leave, especially when he'd whimper at any movement he made, in hear his father would leave him alone.

Boden had dismissed him from the scene, giving him the permission to ride in the same ambulance as you, Jack not once letting go of him.

The hospital was in its usual disarray but Matt's concern was so high for you and your unborn child that he didn't even bat an eye at all the doctors and nurses running around ragged.

Natalie had seen you immediately, wasting no time in checking your physical state before scanning your stomach.

Matt could've cried when Natalie confirmed there was absolutely no harm caused besides whatever had been inflicted upon you.

After a few more checks and tests, Natalie turned to him with an understanding smile.

"She most likely has a concussion, some bruises that will definitely be sore for few weeks but nothing internal or severe."

Matt sighed in relief, his entire body deflating as he slumped back in the chair, Jack moving with him from his now permanent position in Matt's lap.

"You can go sit with her."

And so he did without any further prodding.

Walking back into the room, Matt looked your unconscious figure over, confirming with his own eyes that everything was indeed fine and you were in fact healthy.

Manoeuvring the sleeping toddler in his lap, Matt sat down and placed your hand in his. His fingers gently caressing the scars and scratches on your hands, knuckles raw and red from the sudden impact.

Closing his eyes, Matt lightly pressed a kiss into Jack's hair, his eyes stuck on you.

His little family were all safe and with him here where he wouldn't let them out of his sight. If his throat got tight and his eyes watery, glistening in the bright hospital lights, no one saw.

No one would blame a man who almost lost all his family before he could even meet its final member.

Matt sniffled, shaking away such unnecessary deprecating thoughts. You were all here now, unharmed for the most of it, and you were back with him. That was all that mattered.

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #onechicago #chicago fire #chicago fire x reader #matt casey #one chicago fanfiction #chicago med #matt casey imagine #matt casey x reader

[badcaseofcasey]

one single thread of gold (tied me to you) | Part 4 aka: my Steddie soulmates au, Eddie's POV Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |Steve's POV

Eddie wasn’t sure how he thought Steve Harrington would end up coming back into his life - he wasn’t even sure Steve would come back into his life - but pinned against the wall of a boat shack at the end of a broken beer bottle was not it.

The past 24 hours of Eddie’s life had been something out of a horror movie. He wasn’t sure his heart rate had slowed down since he first saw Chrissy’s eyes glazed over in his trailer. And now, here comes his soulmate tagging along with the most unexpected combination of people he’s ever seen - including Dustin Henderson, one of newest recruits to Hellfire Club, and Max Mayfield, who moved into Forest Hills not that long ago.

He was reluctant to admit that his body instinctively knew to calm down once he realized his soulmate was there, instead choosing to believe it was down to the group of people who - against all odds - heard his story and believed him.

The next few days were… strange. Steve seemed intent not to mention their words at all, so Eddie followed his lead. There was a moment when Steve took off his sweater to dive into Lovers Lake where Eddie was able to see his words, clear as day. If he wasn’t convinced that Steve was his soulmate by then, that would have confirmed it.

Because much as Eddie hated to admit it, Steve had surprised him. Sure, Dustin and the others had spent the better part of the past six months trying to convince him that Steve was a good guy (no, really!), but he never expected it to actually be true. He said as much to Steve, and reveled briefly in Steve’s shy acceptance of the compliment. If it hadn’t been so dark in that godforsaken forest, he would’ve sworn Steve had blushed.

They had made it back topside and now he and Dustin were goofing around while the rest of the crew were setting up supplies and weapons. His eyes drifted briefly to where Robin and Steve were putting together molotov cocktails - a sentence he never would have even considered thinking before today. The distraction was long enough for Dustin to get a drop on him, knocking him to his knees. Eddie rolled sideways to avoid Dustin’s “spear,” laughing along with Dustin.

Dustin sat next to him. “All right, old man, catch your breath.”

Eddie gasped, pretending to be appalled. “Watch who you’re calling ‘old man,’ whippersnapper.”

Dustin looked out at the field and his hand drifted down to run his fingers up and down his forearm, where Eddie knew his soulmate’s words were. Eddie had learned all about Suzie within their first few sessions of Hellfire; it was a point of pride that Dustin got his words before any of the other members of the party did.

“Thinking about Suzie?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Dustin answered, eyes still looking out into the distance. “I always worry when we’re about to do something like this. What if something… happens to me? We’ve kept Suzie out of this so far, so she has no idea that we’re facing off against literal monsters at least once a year at this point. If something happens to me, what will Suzie think?”

Eddie shook his head and sat up. “I hate that you’re having to worry about things like that. You’re only fourteen, man.”

“Yeah, but look at it this way,” Dustin said. “At least I know, for sure, that there’s someone out there for me. That no matter how bad things get, there’s something to look forward to. It gives me hope, and a reason to keep going when I think I can’t.”

Eddie smiled sadly. “That’s quite the bright side.”

“I try,” Dustin said. “What about you, do you have your words?”

Eddie weighed the options of lying to Dustin right now, but decided it wasn’t worth it. Besides, it felt like it would be a betrayal of the trust Dustin had clearly put in him. “Yeah, I do.”

“Really?” Dustin asked. “You never talk about them.”

“For good reason,” Eddie said, bumping his shoulders into Dustin’s. “Not all of us get our words from our adorable girlfriend from camp.”

“Well, whoever it is,” Dustin said, nudging Eddie back. “It can be a reason for you, too. You know, to keep going.”

“Hey, I already have enough of a reason,” Eddie stood and said, “‘86 is gonna be my year, right?”

Dustin smiled and accepted Eddie’s hand up.

“And Dustin,” Eddie said, seriously. “You know that one of us would take care of letting Suzie know. We know she’s important to you. She wouldn’t just be left in the dark.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” Dustin said. “You know, if you told me who your soulmate is, I could make the same promise.”

“Nice try,” Eddie said, ruffling the top of Dustin’s ghillie suit. “Come on, let’s go see if we’ve got our marching orders.” He slung an arm across Dustin’s shoulders as he steered them back towards the group.

Eddie couldn’t get Dustin’s words out of his head, even as they all made their way back into the Upside Down. Is that how Steve thought about him as he went through everything that Eddie gathered had happened over the past few years? Did Steve think about him at all?

The group was getting ready to split up, and Eddie was caught with a sudden need to talk to Steve. He called out his name as the group headed out towards the Creel House, then stopped when Steve turned to look at him.

There was so much to say, so much they had both left unsaid. Eddie didn’t know how he could possibly put all of what he was feeling in that moment into words, but here he was, about to watch Sir Steve walk away from him again, only this time, the dragons were so much more real. He just knew he couldn’t let Steve leave without saying… something.

“Make him pay.”

Shit. He probably could have done better than that.

taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added/taken off!: @awkwardgravity1 @infinitetrashbag @vampireinthesun @swimmingbirdrunningrock @maya-custodios-dionach @thev01dd @obsessivlyme @a-little-unsteddie @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @spectrum-spectre @red-panderz69 @magpiemuseum @minjintea @finalmoondragonn @thatonebadideapanda @estrellami-1 @freyaforestafay @biatcgh @sadcanadianwinter @im-sam-fucking-winchester @bidisastersworld @justanothergirlwithobsessions @anaibis @thing-a-ling @rosered93 @newtstabber @void-o-chaos @thegingerrapunzel @baron-zemo-trash @katireads @child-of-cthulhu @the-s-is-silent @i-must-potato @hellomynameismoo @lovelylilbadone @theotalksalot @lydi-cyan @background-noise-headache @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @slitherynchiken @grapefruitgalaxy @bookbinderbitch @luthienstormblessed @blues-tunes @murdblurdock @grtwdsmwhr @xpaperheartso@anaibis @thedyingwriter

#my fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie #soulmate au #Stranger Things #met as kids au #steddie soulmate au #finally getting back to this one!

[pastafossa]

Idk if it’s cause his face claim is Oscar Isaac but Ciro is taking up way more of my brain space than I think you intended. do u have any of his lore in your back pocket? a tragic backstory? who he had his kid with? were they in love?? IS HE HAPPY? anyways. i appreciate you and i hope you’re doing well!! sending love

Thank you so, so much! I'm starting to feel a bit more up finally, and my moods are leveling out I think!

And ABSOLUTELY! TEN PIECES OF CIRO LORE:

Ciro and his wife Elisa (Sophia's mom), were a Mobster Power Couple, and madly in love. She worked alongside him and ran various aspects of the business. She was cunning yet cheerful, loved classical literature like he did, and they had plans for a large family. They both figured if one of them died, it would be due to 'business'. Sadly she passed away incredibly suddenly from an aneurysm a few years after Sophia was born, leaving him a widower and a single father. His daughter for a time was the only thing keeping him going.

He's made a good recovery since then with some therapy and has found he loves being a dad and is quite happy running his businesses, criminal and not, though he spends a substantial amount of time worrying about Jane, and would be even happier if she were safe. But he definitely feels like he's doing what he was meant to do, and feels like God approves in his own way.

Romantically (something rarely touched on in TRT), he's had some flings and short-term relationships with various people after his wife passed, mostly women and a few men, but he hasn't had anything serious so far, in part because he's been so focused on Running The Empire and raising his daughter(s) (and other adopted stray feral murder children like Eli). Though if he finds his second special person, he'd be willing to consider something more serious.

At the time of TRT, he has five cats, all former strays because this man can never resist picking up the lost, human and animal, and there are a variety of cat rescues around Los Angeles that find themselves mysteriously funded by an anonymous donor.

He's decent at guitar and piano!

In TRT the incident where his childhood dog was killed by a boar is mentioned. In his attempts to rescue his dog, he got thrown aside into a tree - that injury caught up with him later, which is why Matt notices arthritis in his knee and an altered stance when scanning him over!

Ciro and Natasha Romanoff know each other through (sketchy) business and are on friendly terms.

He's the eldest of his siblings (1 brother and 2 sisters).

He didn't always plan on being a crime lord but after running face-first into some governmental/legal corruption as a teenager, his thought process was roughly along the lines of, 'I could do better than them.' He likes to think he's kept his promise - there are a surprising number of people in his city, especially in certain neighborhoods, who tend to look to the Ferryman's justice and authority first over the police or legal system. His punishments are often cruel, hard, and unforgiving, but if you follow his laws and keep your mouth shut, you generally don't have much to worry about, and because he minimizes collateral damage and invests in the neighborhoods (to encourage loyalty if nothing else), most are happy to look the other way.

He 'introduced' himself to SHIELD by mailing a few specific agents the tongues of HYDRA operatives, complete with coins, after those operatives attempted to Fuck Around in Los Angeles and quickly Found Out. One of those SHIELD agents happened to be Phil Coulson. The two have a bi-yearly, location-randomized coffee meetup, which is how Ciro wound up with Agent Thompson's card after Coulson vouched for her record!

#ciro leone #i love ciro and i have a mountain of backstory on him and basically no place in the story so it just sits here #in my head #i fully plan if i turn TRT into an AU book series one day #tehre will be a book or two JUST for Ciro because he deserves one #the red thread

[leothetraveler]

I'm not going to finish this anytime soon, so let the squid simps feast on this half-finished Lamb x Kallamar fic

They’re dead? They can’t have fallen. Them too? Thoughts raced through Kallamar’s mind as they received the news. His last high priest had fallen to the lamb. How could they do this? It’s just a lamb I need to hide run SCREAM. “My lord? Are you alright?” Kallamar had all but forgotten the messenger before them, their face full of concern for their silent god. “Y-yes. Of course. I… I need to plan. BEGONE.” Kallamar turned their back to hide their terror as the messenger left the room. The squid fell to his knees in a mix of grief and dread. His sister and brother were dead. Half of the Old Faith, gone. No doubt he was next. His mind could only imagine the torture his fallen siblings were facing. What horrors had been dreamed up by- Kallamar froze, sensing the trespass of the red crown. Of the lamb. They were back to finish him. Tears welled in the squid’s eyes as he tried, desperately, to think of a way out. The lamb would not die, so maybe they could be convinced to show mercy? There was only one chance. One way the Old Faith could survive. He could not allow a single soul to see such, but he had to grovel before the red crown and beg them to claim his sibling in his place. This whole thing was Shamura’s fault anyhow. And death would be a mercy on their shattered mind. So Kallamar departed to confront the lamb with a silent prayer to the first gods.

“Please, I beg you, spare me. Kill Shamura, but do not send me to my death. Do not send me to him!” Kallamar finished his plea, looking for any sign that the lamb’s fury waivered. But if there was any thought of mercy, it was hidden behind the trained expressionless face of a crownbearer. Kallamar’s mind raced with fear. “You will not find my temple. I will be safe there. Yes, I will-” “Now you know how I felt.” Kallamar froze, their eyes focusing back on the lamb before them. “w-..what?” The lamb took a step towards the terrified bishop. “Now you know how I felt the day you and your siblings killed me.” Kallamar stepped back, the lamb stepped forward. “Now you know how I felt every damn day of my life being hunted by your family for being born.” The lamb only stopped their advance as the bishop backed into a column. “You now live in fear, like I did. You beg for mercy…like I did, for so long. You did nothing then…I won’t listen now.” Kallamar racked their mind for excuses. “I-I couldn’t do anything. My siblings, yes, they insisted. Even if I had, I would just be joining Narinder in damnation!” The lamb tilted their head, a curious yet sadistic expression breaking through. “Narinder? Who’s that? One of your beloved priests?” There was silence as the two stared at each other, trying to decipher what the other was thinking. Kallamar spoke first. “YOU KILL IN HIS NAME AND DON’T EVEN KNOW IT?!?” The lamb only stared, more annoyed at his screeching than anything. Kallamar groaned, his fear temporarily forgotten. “Of course our brother wouldn’t mention it. It is not relevant to killing us. He always kept his cards close to his-” The lamb’s blade dug into the wall behind Kallamar, interrupting his chain of thought. “What do you mean ‘brother’?” Kallamar broke into laughter. This lamb was nothing but a tool. A weapon aimed at their throat, not a rival or follower. They knew nothing of the Old Faith or the crown they wear. His confidence restored, he explained to the fool before him. “He was the third. The middle sibling. Why do you think our symbol is the five-pointed star? Five points, five crowns. He is not different. He is not better. He is our brother. This, all of this, is little more than a family dispute. He tried to increase his power. Made himself a threat to the rest of us. So we locked him away. Even if you did manage to break the chains, it will take quite the sacrifice to-” Kallamar paused mid-sentence, a thought occurring. How did Narinder plan to escape? While the seal on his temple was easily broken, bringing a god back from the land of the dead would take a grand sacrifice. No mere mortal would suffice, but the grand vessel beloved by so many? Add the fact that they were a lamb, a sacrificial beast, and that would do it. “So that’s his grand plan. Put you on a pedestal, make you beloved, then demand your head so he can walk free. And you are left none the wiser till it’s too late to say no.” The lamb dragged their hoof across the ground in frustration. While they were sworn enemies, it is clear the lamb was not such a fool that they did not see the truth in Kallamar’s words.

[I just burned out trying to force myself to finish this. I'll do it some other time. the idea was that Kallamar would willingly break the chain and shatter his crown to have the lamb's protection as their loyal, immortal consort.]

#cult of the lamb #cotl #lambxkallamar #Inkwool #(? it's one idea for it.) #wips #unfinished #cotl lamb #cotl kallamar

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

The gang + Tim & Curly dealing with a dark feminine lady who is oblivious to the fact she’s so seductive

<3

Ofccccc pookie

Ponyboy Curtis

-he gets so flustered by you

-with your low, sultry voice

-seriously you could ask him what time it is and he’d be like 🥵🥵🥵🥵

-and your dark but not quite gothic, feminine outfits

-he doesn’t know many other people like you

-he feels so immature next to you

-but you have a crazy ability to make him feel things he’s never felt before

-memorized different things about you

-he asked you out with your favorite kind of chocolate and you said yes

-super cute together

Johnny Cade

-whoa

-you’re like… his dream

-he’s really attracted to you

-he thinks about you a lot, especially late at night in the lot

-he never has enough courage to go up to you and do anything about it tho

-if you ever talk to him in school he’d be so quiet while internally screaming

-one day you see him with a black eye

-you put a delicate hand on his cheek, making sure he’s ok

-he never really got fully over that

-definitely touched his own cheek after you let go like wow

-until one day dally mentions you and Johnnycake

-well

-he gets a bit defensive

-which is when dallys like you like her don’t you

-and Johnny doesn’t answer, only the tips of his ears turning red

-so dally literally pushes him towards you

-and he finally asks you out, and you say yes

-you guys are so in love with eachother

Sodapop Curtis

-he sees you walk into the DX one day

-he’s immediately interested

-I mean,it’s not every day he sees a girl like you

-you have this certain confidence

-a suggestive smirk and perfect eyeliner

-it’s attractive to say the least

-before long he asks you out

-yall are cute though

-red rose x sunflower vibes from you both

Darry Curtis

-he sees you walking by the house

-fully pops his head out the window to get a better look

-hot damn

-you’re on his level

-I mean, he’s very attracted to you

-he started asking around about you and no one seemed quite to know much

-so he went up to you and found out for himself

-and even talking to you made his knees weak, you so effortlessly came off as seductive

-after a while you two become close friends and before long

-he asks you out and you ofc say yes

-very cute couple 10/10 you’re both very mature and supportive of eachother

-ponyboy would have a crush on you tho lowkey 💀

Dallas Winston

-holy shit

-it’s not often he sees someone like you around

-you two definitely met whenever he harassed you on the street

-you simply cross your arms, and turn to him with a coolly neutral stare

-“Talk like that again to me and I’ll cut off your most valuable asset.” You’d snarl, walking away

-and leaving him with a smirk on his face, but he stops making the remarks

-over time he asks you out and you eventually say yes after several rejections

-but you two are a good couple

-pretty scary to run into though

Two Bit Mathews

-he sees you and

-you honestly seem so… grounded it’s hard to make jokes about you

-but he somehow manages

-but whenever you let out that low chuckle in response to his stupid jokes

-oh girl you don’t even know what you’re doing to him 💀😭💅

-that’s when he realizes like oh my lord he has some feelings for you

-when you two end up dating

-you make an amazing couple

-you keep him grounded, and calm and he keeps you laughing and having fun

Steve Randle

-he didn’t even think you realized

-what you were doing

-leaning against that car in that low cut, short dress

- you raised your eyebrows

-and he realized he’d been staring for a solid five minutes

-he’s dumbstruck by you

-your car had broken down and he was helping you fix it

-when it was done you simply said “Thanks, handsome.”

-and tipped him quite well

-after a while of friendly banter you two get pretty flirty

-end up making out in your car

-then dating

-super cute together 🫶

Tim Shepard

-it’s giving mobster/gangster wife tbh

-he was in love with you as soon as he saw you

-seducing eyes, a charming nature, cunning… never hot headed but always aware

-you were absolutely gorgeous

-and you make his knees weak in a way that most people aren’t able to

-with the most everyday things

-you’d also make an amazing trophy wife

-but you were so much more

-clever, you knew how to get anyone down on their knees in less than a minute

-he knew you’d be a valuable ass…. Asset to him

-you guys are a power couple fr

-he catcalled you when he met you like Dally 💀💀

Curly Shepard

-you both clash

-you were seductive, dark, mature, with deep eyes and a sharp look that could kill

-him…. Well he was a reckless punk

-you two ran in the same circles though

-and became quite good friends

-you kept him out of a lot of situations

-and looked good doing it too

-he doesn’t think you realize how crazy you drive him

-even just looking at him, biting your lip whenever you patch him up in concentration

-he checks you out when he thinks you aren’t looking

-you’ve known this entire time

-and whenever you confronted him about it you two end up making out

-the rest is history

#the outsiders hcs #the outsiders headcanons #two bit mathews #johnny cade #the outsiders #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #steve randle #dallas winston #ponyboy curtis #curly shepard #tim shepard #urlocalnonbinarybastardwritesanswers

[johnbassplayercutie]

warnings: 18+, fluff, no smut, suggestive content???, sam being a total brat but we love it, sam also being a sweetheart <3

thinking about sam monroe teaching you how to snowboard and he guides your movements with his hands on your waist.

"i got you babe," sam gives you an assuring smile before placing his hands on your waist and pressing himself up against your back, "don't worry."

you both begin to slowly slide down the hill as sam attempts to steer you forward. you avoid locking your knees up at first, but your nervousness gets the better of you.

"sam, i'm scared," you pout and wobble slightly on your board before he stabilizes you again.

"we'll go slow, but if you feel like you'll fall, just fall back on me. i don't want my baby getting hurt." he speaks softly, his face nestled in the crook of your neck before kissing your cheek sweetly. his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him before going back to your hips.

"lean on your heels a bit," he commands gently, "we're gonna try and turn now," you do as he instructs and lean back on your heels towards him as he does the same, "good girl."

his praise suddenly has your pink face, cold from the frigid air, a bright shade of red.

you continue following his instructions on how to maneuver, desperate to hear his praises and affection.

"you're doing so well baby," sam praises, stopping the two of you at a flat part of the mountain, "now i'm gonna let you try on your own while holding your hands." he helps you spin around as you finally get sight of his beaming smile for the first time since you started.

"what is it?" you question, curious what he's smiling about.

"you look so cute right now with those earmuffs." he smirks while lifting his ski goggles.

you blush and avoid his intense eye contact.

you quip back, "and you. you look like a dork with that hat on," you giggle while pulling on the strings on his hat, pulling it lower on his head, almost covering his eyes.

"hey! who are you calling dork?! i'm gonna get you for that!" he laughs while teasing you. sam pulls you closer to him as you attempt to escape him in a fit of laughter.

"sam stoppp! please– i'm sorry," you continue giggling as you both struggle. he's the first to lose balance and he pulls you down with him as he lands backwards on the snow.

"look who was the first one to fall, huh." you tease him with a smirk.

"you better watch that smart mouth of yours before i give you something to shut up about," he snaps back, smirking. he's smug as you're completely red with your mouth hanging open before snapping shut.

"what? nothing to say now, huh?" his intense eyes challenging yours. your mouth opens and closes again, lost for words. "if you keep leaving your mouth open, i might have to put it to good use," he leans forward and kisses you roughly, biting your lower lip and tugging gently. pulling away, his cold hand holds your jaw, tracing his thumb across your lips. his eyes flicker to yours as he smirks, pleased with shutting you up. he bites his lip and you become increasingly aware of your soaked panties, "now, c'mon let's get up." he whispers as his warm breath fans your face. he rolls you over and helps you up on your feet.

you reach your hands out for him to hold and steady the two of you. smiling, you meet his eyes as he pulls his goggles over his face again. his hands squeeze yours reassuredly as he admires you.

"make sure to follow my instructions, wouldn't want to have to discipline you later hm?" he teases, giggling to himself.

"sammmm," you whine out and look away, reaching your limit with all this teasing, "m'need you to help me."

sam smirked even more, knowing this wasn't the only thing you needed help with.

"so needy...stop begging or i'll make you beg for it later." he barked out again, loving the effect it had on you.

————

part 2??? i'm sorry if this cringe omgg help

#hayden christensen #sam monroe drabble #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe fluff #sam monroe #sam monroe x fem!reader #drabbles #snowboarder!sam #<33

[atlasscrumpit]

Avengers x Reader

(I think I've done one similar to this before?) 

The team had been called outside of the state, they knew shield was on sight already.

So far Tony decided he only needed him and Steve to help out.

While they were flying into the area they saw a large area that was completely burnt out, nearly in a perfect circle.

They landed the jet and stepped out to see Shield set up just outside of the burnt area.

"So, what's going on?" Tony asked as they walked up to Maria.

"Take a look for yourself." She said giving Tony some binoculars.

He looked through them to see a girl in the middle of everything, shivering and completely naked.

"She caused all of this... But, that's why we called you. Even our fire proof and radioactive proof suits won't work, we can't get near her. So, we need you to suit up and try." Maria informed them as they nodded.

"Can do." Tony said, grabbing a blanket and suiting up before slowly stepping into the radioactive area.

He kept moving forward, getting updates from Friday that it was fine to keep moving.

Eventually he made it to the strange figure, you looked up at him.

"I'm hungry." You whispered making him chuckle softly.

"I'm going to help you out of here, okay? Then we can get you some food." He said as you nodded a little, your body far too weak to even stand.

He reached down and covered you with the blanket before picking you up in his arms.

You slowly closed your eyes, your body completely limp against Tony.

"Hang in there, kid." He whispered as he trudged through the burnt wreckage.

He brought you back and people in giant suits rushed in to take you.

"It seems the area is radioactive... But, I don't think she is. At least not at the moment." Tony said, walking back to Maria and Steve.

"We'll take her back to the base, thank you for the help." Maria said as the two men nodded, it had been a pretty easy mission.

"Let us know what happens."

--

You sat in a cell, your knees hugged to your chest as you glanced out through the glass.

Maria walked in and stood in front of you.

"We need to ask you some questions, to see what we're dealing with. I need you to be truthful otherwise we will have to go to other measures for the truth. Is that understood?" She said as you nodded a little and looked at her.

She started off simple like, name, date of birth, place of birth but then she got more personal.

"Why did we find you in the middle of a radioactive field that was littered with dead bodies?" She said as you looked away from her.

"I didn't mean it." You grumbled as she sighed.

"That wasn't the question, was it?" She continued making you groan a little and looked away.

"I need the truth, Y/N." She demanded as you looked at her.

"These men came to my house... They were after my father, he used to be in the military. My brother tried to stop them and they shot him in the head, and then they killed my mother and then my father. They found me hiding and I lost control, everything went black and all I felt was rage. I wanted everyone to burn, I wanted to rip their fucking skulls from their heads." You growled as your body began to give off a small glow.

Suddenly air was let in and it cooled your body down completely.

You groaned and looked at her.

"Thanks... I think."

--

Tony and Steve had visited the Shield base to be updated on your condition.

They walked through the halls of the base with Maria.

"So, it seems she has the ability to go nuclear based on emotions. We've created a cuff on her wrist that helps keep her calm and practically sedated. We think you'll be able to study her a lot better than we can, come up with something to stabilise her without numbing her emotions." Maria said as the two men nodded.

"So, she was the one who killed the entire town?" Steve asked as Maria nodded in response.

"Yes, she killed everyone she ever knew and destroyed her home. But, she didn't mean it. If I know one thing, it's that she definitely didn't mean it." Maria replied before the made it to your cell.

"She's completely sedated right now so it's easier for you guys to take her back to the tower." She continued as Steve made his way into the cell and gently picked you up.

You were completely unconscious in his arms as he walked out with you.

"Does she have any belongings?" Tony asked as Maria handed him a plastic bag with a single open pendant inside.

"This was all the survived on her body. I'm guessing it was a necklace." She said as the nodded.

"Thanks, we'll get her back to the tower."

--

Tony slowly woke you up in a new room they had built for you.

One that could contain you if you had an outburst.

You groaned and slowly sat up and rubbed your face.

"Tony?" You muttered in confusion.

"Hey, kid." He said with a smile.

"You're at the tower now, I know Maria filled you in with what's happening. Do you want me to leave you to rest?" He asked as you nodded.

"Wait... Before you go. I want to ask you something." You whispered as he sat on the side of your bed.

"Ask away, kid." He replied, you looked away from him.

"I don't feel bad... I miss my family, but I don't feel bad about killing anyone. I'm a monster, aren't I?" You whispered as Tony looked at you sadly.

"I don't think you're a monster, Y/N. I think that your mind is trying to deal with all of this. Sometimes our minds can block things out of force us to feel certain things to protect us." He said in response as you nodded a little.

"So... I'm not a terrible person?" You asked, still not looking up at him.

"No, Y/N. You're not a terrible person, you're a survivor."

#Mcu #Marvel #Avengers #Avengers x Reader #Tony stark #Steve Rogers

[afieldinengland]

.

#i’m starting to wonder if i hate myself for having been born a transsexual #it’s not shame— but there’s something in the way i think about myself that’s deep and bitter. i don’t know. well i’ve never enjoyed myself #in general. i’ve never been ashamed of it and i’ve never been proud of it in fact i hate talking about it entirely #and i’ve realised i don’t even like thinking about it too deeply. too knee-deep in history’s men-image #(by which he means richard ii and oscar wilde and injured knights with long hair and poets on laudanum and artists on cocaine) #i feel sick. it isn’t a sickness because i can’t be ‘cured’ and i don’t want to be and it’s intrinsic but modern vocabulary feels heavy in #my mouth and puts me in a petri dish. even ‘transsexual’ feels like uber modern parlance sometimes. i can’t do it #but that’s the word. just sometimes i think it would have all been easier if things had gone otherwise. and i know that makes me bad at thi #i have to speak to you in your language. and i don’t know what i mean by that or even where that thought comes from. it’s your language #i should be in the bronze age right now i’m sorry i got waylaid. i got lost #i can’t stop being it but if i think too much about it i start wanting to eat my own fingers and i think— and this is my hypothesis— #it’s because i’ve never enjoyed myself i’ve never been in a healthy relationship and i can’t remember the last time i had fun #but then that’s another thing i’m not made for. that’s a lie there is a desperate aesthete in here who has been so starved of hedonism for #as long as i’ve had him that he’s hoarse. i’m tired i’ve been walking for nine hundred years my feet hurt #i don’t know. why me why now et cetera. i’m just wondering if i don’t despise myself a bit for it— like it’s a trick i did in a past life #again. it’s a privilege. it’s more intrinsic to my personhood than blood type or astigmatism or that weird thing i have with my hip #and i could be proud of it if only i could work out how. i’m content— in the same way i’m content with everything— but i don’t know. #i don’t like talking about it i don’t like thinking about it because it feels like i’m losing the game i’m constantly playing against mysel #in my head. i’m my own personal spin doctor you see #whatever. sorry. in light of doing better i can get this out too. can you believe i haven’t been kissed in years