#1193 words

[leschanceux]

headcanon from the tea room!; how does your muse use a public library?

as a precursor to this headcanon; dillon has always been interested in learning things and reading as many books as he can get his hands on, with a particular affinity for non-fiction books. his father had an encyclopedia set in his study ( one of those massive collection-type encyclopedias with multiple books for each letter covering literally everything ) and dillon would spend days and days lying on the floor with one of the books and just read it cover to cover. he's more of an academic reader than a getting lost in a good story reader; for him, reading is all about knowledge and learning, and he gets his pleasure from reading that way, but he fully appreciates the power of a good story and he'll encourage other people to indulge in those too.

- do they just go to browse the in-house catalogue, or do they use it for interlibrary loan & extended research?

dillon ( who does actually work in a bookstore ) loves to read but his focus is more non-fiction, and he finds a different interest or a different rabbit-hole to follow pretty regularly, he'll peruse both the library's in-house catalogue but he also regularly uses the interlibrary loan facilities and research materials to find out as much as he can about different subjects from different places. luckily, his library's interlibrary loan system covers libraries from all over the world - as long as you have a title or a specific subject, the books will be sent from anywhere in the world to that library for you to pick up. these facilities help dillon in his day to day life, but it also helps him to have read a broad range of books on various topics for work, because then he can recommend several titles to customers if they ask about a specific subject.

sometimes this helps when deciding which books to stock in his bookstore; for example, when he went through a plant phase, he borrowed a lot of books on subjects like the medicinal uses of plants, or the language of flowers, or even flower arranging, and they went down quite well with the customers when he ordered a limited amount of stock for his shelves, but other focuses like the history of certain types of machinery are more niche, so they're less likely to appear at the store. it's a balancing act, and dillon can sort of judge by now what would sell better ( unfortunately, even magic bookstores only have a finite amount of storage space, which sucks ).

- do they take children to events, such as story times or guided crafts? how about teenagers? do they encourage their children to keep going & using resources after they're "graduated" out of story time? are there other support structures in place for children, such a literacy programs?

dillon doesn't have children of his own, but he does have a couple of niblings ( the children of his siblings; his nieces and nephews ) and he definitely takes them to the library when he's looking after them and encourages them to join in with events and interacting with the library. their local library has literacy programs like a reading marathon in the schools' summer break, where the kids have to log each book they borrow and read, write a little synopsis and they get a prize at the end depending on how many they've read. his niblings are good readers themselves; they do enjoy the story time activities when they're small, but they also enjoy workshops geared toward teens as they grow, like the poetry writing sessions or that one write your own comic session that the library offers.

- do they themselves go to events, like open art studio nights, computer/digital literacy classes, community DIY/crafting, or the more traditional book clubs?

dillon's more likely to host a bookclub at the store than attend one at the library. he's been to a couple of events at his local library when there've been things that play into his interests, like a night where they hosted authors from various cultures who'd written books around the same subject, but on the whole, he's not really that kind of person --- though he does keep an event schedule for the library up on the store's noticeboard for his customers, just in case they're interested in such events.

- are they the sort to stay in the library & read their mini hoard, or do they prefer to check out things to take home for a time? what sort of things do they check out (books, DVDs, manga, ebooks, audiobooks vs power tools, fishing rods, museum passes, mobile hotspots, & seeds to be planted?) (yes you can check all of these things out depending on the library)

dillon definitely prefers to take his hoard home with him, just so he can take his time with the materials he borrows and get the most out of them. he also has a favourite reading corner at home with a cosy chair and a lamp that's angled just right and the facilities to make a drink or snack while he reads, so he definitely prefers to go home to read through the pile of books he comes away with.

as for the things he checks out, they're mostly books, but he does also like to borrow audiobooks to listen to while he does the store's stock-check or some cleaning, and he'd definitely borrow museum passes or ingredients ( like seeds ) for potions or magical rituals if his personal stash is running short.

- how do they feel about "human libraries" - programs where you can sit with a human "book" & learn about different cultures, backgrounds, & life experiences? what sort of human would they "take out on loan" & why?

dillon absolutely adores human libraries. as someone who regularly comes into contact with people of different cultures and species, and one whose life has been dedicated to learning so much about as much as he can possibly learn about, he'd spend absolutely ages with those people who are willing to be "loaned" out to tell their stories to other people. he'd spend a couple of days thinking of questions to ask them first, then go along and sit with them and just listen to everything they're willing to tell him.

he'll do his research if he knows the person he'd like to "loan" out in advance, but if he doesn't know what culture they come from, he has a set of more general questions about cultural practices or observations. it's easier when he knows in advance who he'll be meeting, of course, but not knowing is not something that would stop him from utilising such a wonderful resource.

- does their library host D&D events? if so, do they partake or socialize, or do they skip that night in favor of other community events?

dillon already lives in a magical society so they don't have d&d specifically, but they do have something similar that involves creatures like dragons or different bird kingdoms than species like fae or warlocks ( because that's who lives in his society ).

he does attend these nights at the library, but not regularly because that's creating a ficticious storyline and he's not really into that sort of thing. but the concept of it definitely intrigues him and it'd give him the opportunity to create a character that maybe utilises some of the knowledge he's gotten from books, like the plant phase.

- does their library have a mobile outreach service? if so, have their used it themselves or partnered with it for work & community events?

yes, dillon's local library has a mobile outreach service; they actually do book deliveries for people who are stuck in their homes for various reasons ( temporary or otherwise! ) and for schools to make sure that everybody in their community has some kind of access to the library services. and yes, dillon partners with them - he'll take in library books from people to be returned, if they can't make it themselves for whatever reason; he partners with the library to bring some of their events into the store if the times at the library itself is inconvenient for a certain amount of people ( so if 20 people said that they couldn't attend a class on how to start a novel, he'd contact the library and arrange for a repeat of the workshop at a later time for those people, if the library are willing and able to do that! ). he knows the library staff very well at this point, and to be able to join in on spreading a love of books is an amazing feeling.

[a-godman]

We Live the Grafted Life in the Mingling of the Human Life with the Divine Life

As believers in Christ, we live the grafted life by living in the mingling of the human life with the divine life. Hallelujah, we are organically united with Christ so that we may live a grafted life – a life in the mingling of God and man! As believers in Christ, we have been grafted into Christ, and the grafted life we live today is not an exchanged life but the mingling of the human life with…

[th3casscad3]

In The Heat Of The Night

It Was That Time Of Season For Alastor.. He Locked Himself Away In His Radio Tower Till He Rode Out His Rut.. But What Happens When A Certain Innocent Minded Reader Smells His Scent..? Warnings: Rut, Roughness, Praise Kink, Cream, Tentacles, Pleading, Growing In Size, Antlers, Ear Pulling, Breeding Kink, Knotting. G!N Reader. Words: 1193 Characters: 5523 ************************************************************************

It Was That Time Of The Year Again For Alastor. The Itching Sensation In His Antlers As They Tripled In Size. The Sweating Of His Body, His Hair Clinging On To His Face And Him Finding His Clothes Rather Hot. Alastor Had Been In His Radio Tower, He Was Going Over His Script For His Next Broadcast, Having A Soul He Wanted To Display. When Suddenly The Air Grew Thick And He Needed To Loosen His Clothing. He Threw Off His Pinstriped Coat And His Bowtie. His Fingers Desperately Found Themselves Undoing His Buttons On His Shirt. He Stumbled His Way Over To The Nearest Window, Desperately Searching For Fresh Air. It Was Then That He Noticed The Bulge In His Pants, Throbbing. He Grunted And Resisted The Urge To Dry Hump The Wall. He Leaned His Body Out Of The Window And Dropped His Head Down, His Antlers Feeling The Wind Against Them, Temporally Relieving His Desires. " Blasted This Season.. Such Disgust. " Alastor Growled Out, He Hated The Feeling Of Intimacy And Desire. It Was Nothing More Than A Demons Weakness. Giving Themselves To Another Person, The Mere Thought Made Him Sick. And Yet.. Here He Was Desperately Trying Not To Find A Mate Of His Own To Breed Into. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- On The Inside Of The Hotel, You Were Chatting Up With Everyone. Laughing About Angels Porn Films, Arguing With Husker About Showing Mere Kindness. But, That Just Led To Him Pushing You Off The Bar Counter With A " Whoops", When Suddenly You Found Yourself Rather Bored. So Naturally, You Decided To Go Look For The One Person You'd Be Able To Get A Good Reaction Out Of. You Searched The Halls, His Office, And His Bedroom. After A While You Decided To Finally Give Up When Suddenly, You Remembered You Hadn't Checked His Radio Tower. On Your Way Up To His Tower, You Caught A Whiff Of What Seemed To Smell Like...Cum And Pine? You Let Your Nose Led You To The Door Of Alastor's Tower. You Knocked. " Alastor..? Hey, You In There? " You Asked With A Slight Nerve. In Almost And Instant, The Door Flew Open And You Saw Alastor's State. He Looked A Mess. Before You Could Even Speak Alastor Threw You Inside And Locked The Door " You Know You Shouldn't Have Came Up Here, My Dear. " Alastor Spoke With A Heavy Static In His Voice. He Pressed You Against His Control Panel And Parted His Way In Between Your Thighs, Lifting You So You Were Sitting On Top Of It. " F- Forgive Me, Al. I.. I Just Wanted To Come Bother You! " You Pleaded. You Didn't Like How He Was Acting, You'd Be Lying If You Said You Weren't Scared. Alastor Took Notice Of This And Place His Finger Under Your Chin, Forcing You To Look Up At Him. " Ah, And Bother Me You Did. Now You Must Face The Consequences. " As Alastor Spoke, His Tentacles Came Out From The Shadow And Tore Of Your Clothes, You Were Now Laying There Exposed In Front Of Him. He Drank Up Your Body As His Tentacles, Covered Your Mouth And Pinned Your Wrist Together For What's About To Happen Next. --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mouth Covered, The Only Sound You Could Make Were Muffled Cries. You Had Always Imagined Alastor To Be A Gentlemen When It Came To Intimacy, If He Had Ever Chosen To Do Such A Thing. But This, This Was Nothing Gentle About It. Before You Could Even Process What Was Happening, A Tentacle Shoved Itself Inside Of You. You Screamed Out Through The Tentacle And Alastor Simple Chuckled. Your Legs Trembled But Alastor Wouldn't Allow You To Close Them. He Admired Your State While The Tentacles Plowed Into Mercilessly. Watching The Tears Run Down Your Face, Only Turned Him On More. After A While Of Torturing You, He Pulled His Tentacle Out, Not Allowing You To Reach Your Climax. You Whined Out Until You Saw His Body Grow in Size. His Eyes Becoming Dials And His Neck Elongating. If He Didn't Look Like A Serial Killer Then, You Were Sure You Pee'd Yourself Now. He Unzipped His Pants And Uncovered His Throbbing Cock. You Took In His Size And Your Eyes Widened. You Wanted To Plead That It Wouldn't Fit But Instead He Slapped You. " You Speak When I Tell You " He Growled And Lined Himself Up With Your Area. " You Move When I Let You " He Slowly Starting Pushing His Head Inside You, Warming You Up. " And You Cum When I Give You Permission " With That He Pulled Back Out And Jammed Himself In Your Area. You Had To Forced Yourself Not To Cry Out In Pain. It Was Too Big, It Burned, Your Legs Twitched With An Aggression You've Never Felt Before. You Felt His Cock Deep Inside You. You Wanted To Scream, To Cry And Push Him Off But His Tentacles Held Your Wrists. You Couldn't Even Think Straight. Your Mind Was Fuzzy And Overstimulated. You Felt A Knot In Your Core And Knew You Were Close To Your Release. You Muffled Out. Pleading With Him To Let You Release. Alastor Towered Over You And Bit Down Into You Neck. His Moans On Full Effect. " What Did I Tell You. Such A Naughty One, Aren't We " He Then Lapped Up Your Blood Before Pounding Himself Into You Deeper. You Pulled On Your Wrists, Asking Him For Permission To Move Your Arms. He Agreed. Your Hands Instantly Went To His Ears. Yanking On Them With A Passion. Alastor Moaned Out And Bit You On Your Collarbone, Letting The Blood Fall Down Your Beautiful Skin. Red Always Was Your Color. You Muffled Out Again, Pleading, Begging To Release. Your Body Couldn't Hold Out Much Longer. You Needed To Let Go, The Knot In Your Stomach Only Buring More As You Let Out Some Pre-Cum. Alastor Removed The Tentacle From Your Mouth, Wanting To Hear All Those Pretty Little Sounds You Make. " A- Alastor!!.. Hah.. Please, Please.. Ngh.. I Need To- " You Couldn't Even Finish The Words, Your Mind Going Into Overdrive. Alastor's Tentacled Held Your Ankles Putting You In A New Position, One That Gave Me A Much Deeper Range. You Screamed. Your Legs Nealy Touching Your Head. Your Hands Now Grabbing His Antlers For Support. " Mm~ I'm Going To Breed You And Your Going To Take My Whole Seed " He Lowered Down To Your Level, Feeling The Knot In His Stomach As His Release Neared. His Cock Swelling Up Inside You As She Finally Filled Your Pretty Little Hole With His Seed. That Triggered Your Own Release As Well. You Both Rode Down This Crazy High As Alastor Returned To His Figure. His Cock Still Knee Deep Inside You And Stuck. After A While His Cock Un-Swelled And He Pulled Out Of You, Watching His Seed Pour Out Of You. Your Legs Finally Relaxed As You Laid Your Body Down On The Control Panel " You Took Me So Well~! I'm Proud. " He Chuckled As He Zipped His Pants Back Up, Going About His Studies Again, As If You Meant Nothing. " Next Time, I'll Make Sure My Seed Sticks~ "

[the-fiction-witch]

Orland & Opheila P3

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Shela (Fleabottom Smallfolk Girl) Rating - Spooky Word Count - 1193

Aegon's face turned pale as he caught sight of his brother, Aemond, pressing a blade perilously close to Shela's neck, and panic quickly overcame him. His heart raced as he grappled with the overwhelming fear of seeing her in such grave danger. In that moment, he longed to gather the children into his arms and shield them from his brother's threat, yet he understood the importance of keeping them concealed.

"I was hoping you'd disappeared," Aemon smirked his tone pointed and cruel, 

"Why are you here?" Aegon asked, 

"Mother sent me to find you,"

"Must you always obey her every whim,"

"On this occasion, yes."

"Why?" 

"She sent me to find you, here I am,"

"Yes I understand that, why did she want you to find me? None of you have much a care for my comings and goings normally," 

"Father is dead," he said,

"Wh-what?" Aegon stuttered, 

"Father is dead." Aemon said once more, "So Mother wants you home"

"Is our father truly dead?"

"Yes. And they're going to make you king." 

"I do not wish to rule, I have to taste for duty."

"You'll get no arguments from me,"

"Then let me go. Say you couldn't find me. I will find a ship and I shall leave you will never hear from me again,"

"How I wish it could be that simple,"

"It can be. You have my word I will leave on the first ship to the east and you will never hear a word from me so long as I live. You will be king."

Aemond stopped a moment his eye glaring into Aegon's with a dark mistrust,

"I swear to you. I will. Just please... let her go. and leave us be."

"Mama!" Ophelia cried in panic having peaked out from under the bed, 

"It's okay sweetheart," Aegon spoke trying to calm her, "It'll be okay."

"Bring them out," Aemond demanded,

"No," Aegon answered,

"Bring. Them. Out." Aemon commanded tightening his grip on the tearful Shela, 

"Orland, Ophelia. Come here my darlings, come to daddy." Aegon spoke fearfully, 

Aegon watched as the twins cautiously emerged, inch by inch, from under the bed. He could see the fear in their eyes as they clutched onto his legs for security. Gently, he reached down and stroked their heads, soothing their anxieties as best as he could. Despite their trembling, Aegon was determined to keep them close, ensuring their safety and enveloping them with his love and protection.

"Please Please-" Shela begged,

But Aemond tightened his grip, "Not a word. Or I gut them both."

"No! Aemond please!" Aegon begged, "Don't hurt her. Or them. your issue is with me not with them." Aegon said,

"Fine," Aemond allowed Shela to go, tossing her to the floor with a dismissive gesture. The children, startled by the commotion, quickly rushed to her side. As they reached her, she enveloped them in a tight embrace, wiping their tears offering a sense of comfort and security. Sensing the urgency of the situation, Aegon instinctively positioned himself protectively in front of all three of them, ready to shield them from any potential harm. "You are coming with me to the castle, and to our mother." 

"No. I am not." Aegon commanded, "I am handing you the throne, and the crown on a silver platter. Take it. I don't want it and I shall never bother you again so long as you take it a go," 

"You are father's heir."

"Rhaenyra is father's Heir!" 

"You are father's first male heir. We both know the people won't accept Rhaenyra," 

"I don't care, I don't want the crown. I will not fight with her over something I don't want!" He said, "I am giving it to you!"

"... Even so, I would only be king until your son Jaehaerys came of age." 

"Not if I am not crowned,"

"Even so."

"...Then are we to speak plainly?"

"Of what?"

"Of Jaehaerys," 

"what about him?"

Aegon sighed and glared at his brother, "He is no son of mine," 

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know." Aegon answered, "I shared Helaena's bed once. The night of our wedding, for the bedding ceremony and to uphold my duty to her. But I have not shared her bed since." Aegon explained, "I know those children are not mine, so... let us speak plainly, if you take the throne and admit that they are your children, you will rule with them as your heirs."

"And you?"

"And I will leave, go east with... with my family you will not hear a single word from me I promise you," 

"why would I trust you?"

"I swear to you. On my life."

"I don't care about your life," 

"... On them. On my children. I love them with all my heart, I want to be a better man for them I want to be a father they will love and I want to cherish them. I do not want to cast them away as bastards born of a smallfolk girl, never to see their father, to forever look over their shoulders fearful of their fates for what they are." Aegon explained, his body trembling as he spoke, "I want to marry her, I want my children to be loved and kept close to me always. This is what I want not the crown so by all means bother take it, take it and do as you wish just let us go."

"You will leave the city. Tonight."

"I will I swear it." 

"If I hear you are in kings landing from dawn, I will remove your head, and hers, and theirs," Aemond warned,

"I know," Aegon nodded,

Aemond gave a solemn nod, the weight of his actions heavy upon him. He found himself contemplating if he truly desired this path, but deep down, he was unwavering in his decision. "Goodbye Aegon."

"Goodbye Brother." Aegon nodded, 

Aegon stood near the foot of the stairs, his gaze following his brother's every step as he ascended. With each passing moment, it felt as if an insurmountable distance was growing between them, deepening the ache in Aegon's heart. He couldn't shake the sense of finality, a resolute knowing that he would never lay eyes on his brother again. The thought was a heavy weight on his chest, threatening to consume him. Yet, as he turned away, it was Shela's embrace around Orland and Ophelia that provided him with a bittersweet reassurance. In that moment, he found solace in the belief that he had made the right choice, despite the pain it brought.

He fell to his knees and held Shela in his arms kissing her lips softly but the kiss full of love, when he pulled back he wiped her panicked tears and wrapped his arms around Orland and Ophelia giving both as many kisses as he could manage, 

"What.. are we to do Daddy?" Orland asked, 

Shela gazed at him, her eyes widening as a look of unease washed over her.

"...Pack all your toys little ones, we're going for a ride on daddy's dragon," He told them, 

The children were so eager to pack their toys that they didn't require any additional reminders. They meticulously gathered each and every toy, ensuring that nothing would be left behind.

"Shela we-"

"I know," she stopped him, "Pack their things, get them ready. And we shall leave... together."

"Together," He nodded giving her another kiss, 

[novamariestark]

The Heat of The Night

Summary: You and your new partner, John are on a stakeout. Your first ever stakeout. It goes a lot different than you expected.

Warnings: age gap, piv, unprotected sex, car sex, rough, (poorly written by an amateur writer), minors dni

Word count: 1193

Fandom: The Rookie

Pairing: John Nolan x reader

Here you were, sat with your new partner. You were fresh meat, a rookie. Your partner was a veteran, compared to you at least. It was your first time out on a stakeout, your first time in this dark, foreboding alleyway. The air was cold, you could see your breath dancing in the air. The silence between the two of you was almost deafening, only occasionally broken by the faint hum of the engine and the ticking of the clock on the dashboard. The alley stretched out before you, illuminated only by the faint glow of a streetlight at the far end. Your orders were to observe but do not approach. It had been hours, and you were bored out of your mind.

Then, you saw it. A shadow, moving across the wall of the building opposite. You nudged your partner, trying to get their attention. He turned his head slowly, one eyebrow raised. You pointed at the shadow, and he nodded. You both tensed. He saw you. Your cover was blown. He started walking towards you, a slow, deliberate pace. Your heart raced, your breath shallow. You glanced at your partner and back to the approaching figure and made a decision you didn't know was going to be the best decision of your life. You kissed him. You bought his lips to yours, your hands tangled in his hair. Your thought was to convince the suspect that you were just a horny couple looking for some alone time and the car was the only place you could get it.

The only problem was that once you two started, you didn't stop. Nor would you have wanted to. His hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of your body. He was rough and demanding, his lips leaving trails of bruises on your neck and shoulders. You moaned into the small space, your body arching into his touch. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline course through your veins. You were lost in the heat of the moment, forgetting about the suspect and the stakeout.

Before you knew it, you were in the back of the car, naked. Sprawled on your back with his tongue tracing circles around your clit. Your legs were splayed wide, your fingernails digging into the worn upholstery as you arched your back, moaning his name. Your hips bucked up against his face, seeking more, needing more. He growled in response, his rough hands gripping your thighs, holding you in place as he lapped at your folds.

His tongue was heavenly. You'd never experienced anything like it. You moaned, the sound echoing through the small space of the car. You lift your hips, grinding against his tongue, feeling the wet heat of it as it slides over your clit. Your fingernails dig into his skull, urging him on, demanding more. He growls in response, and he finally adds a finger, sliding it inside you.

Every so often he gently flicked your clitoris with his tongue, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. Your body tensed, your toes curled, and your voice escaped you in a hoarse moan. His fingers increased their speed and it set all your nerves alight. You were so close, the edge of release almost within reach, when you felt him push a second finger inside you. And a third.

It was almost too much, the sensation of him filling you. You gasped, arching your back off the car seat. Your hips bucked wildly, desperate for release. You felt the familiar tightening in your core, the building pressure that signalled your impending orgasm. You pushed his head closer, needing more of his touch. He obliged, his tongue circling faster and his fingers thrusting deeper.

The car rocked gently on its suspension as you lost control, your body shuddering with the force of your climax. You screamed his name, your voice echoing through the alley. Your muscles tensed. He kept going, his tongue never relenting as you rode out your orgasm. Finally, as you came back to earth, he licked you clean, savouring the taste of you on his tongue.

You felt him move, felt him lining himself up at your entrance. You spread your legs wider, inviting him in. He thrust into you, hard and fast, claiming you as his. A claim you certainly wouldn’t protest. You cried out, the sound muffled by your own hands as you clutched at his shoulders.

He was huge, filling you completely, and it felt so good. He moved in a brutal rhythm, slamming into you over and over again. You arched your back, meeting his thrusts, your nails digging into his shoulders. The pain was exquisite, mingling with the pleasure, making every sensation more intense. He growled, his face contorted in pleasure as he fucked you harder by the second.

Your body trembled with each impact, your muscles tense as you fought to keep up with his relentless pace. You could feel the heat from his skin, the sweat that coated your bodies, the kiss of the cool air. You moaned his name, the only thing you could remember at this point. It was the best sound in the world to him. You moaning his name, breathlessly as he drills into you. He growled in response, thrusting harder, deeper, his hips slamming against your ass.

His head buried itself in your neck, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin as he growled out your name. You arched your back, digging your nails into his shoulders leaving half-moons on the flesh. You could feel your inner muscles tightening, the familiar sensation of your orgasm building. He pulls out, only to turn you over roughly, slamming into you from behind. You gasp for breath, the palm of your hand presses onto the window, steadying yourself.

He thrusts harder now, his hips slamming into you with a force that makes your body quiver with every impact. He leans down, nipping  your ear as he growls, "Come for me, baby," and with that, you do. Your body tenses, your muscles clenching and spasming around him as you cry out his name. Your nails dug into the plastic of the door. He feels your orgasm wrack through you, and with a final, savage thrust, he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking wildly as he comes. Shooting his hot, creamy seed deep inside you.

You feel his weight press down on you, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. He's still inside you, his length still buried to the hilt, and for a moment, you're not sure if he's going to move. But then, slowly, he begins to pull out, his softening cock slipping out of you. You whine at the loss.

You're left panting, your body aching and sore, but in the most incredible way. He leans forward, kissing you gently on the lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth to taste you.

"Wow," you whisper, "I can't believe we just did that."

He chuckles, kissing you softly again. "Neither can I, but I'm not complaining."

"Me neither," you smirk, running your fingers through your sweat-dampened hair.

@mariechristine00 I'm sorry again 😂

[pearlofthesirens]

Everything's gonna be okay- Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

first time writing for a fandom omg might as well start writing for cod more. thank you to @xxshadowbabexx for this writing competition, i'm so happy to participate <3 summary: After Simon found himself waking up after another nightmare, his significant other reminds him that he isn't alone in this world pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader warnings: she/her pronouns used, nightmares, Simon's past, toxic relationship with father mentioned, slight cursing now playing: Until I Found You by Stephen Sanchez word count: 1193 words(one thousand one hundred and ninety three words)

"I wish you would've told me," "Told you what? That I get nightmares which eat me alive? That I've always been this fucked up?" "..that's not what I meant, Si." Hearing the familiar nickname slip off her tongue despite how he yelled at her snapped him out of the shaken state he was in. He turned to look at the doorknob, contemplating on whether to twist it open or not. It had been more than half an hour that he locked himself in the bathroom, splashing water on his face and making excuses to not come out. He didn't want to see her, not when she had witnessed him scream as he woke up from his nightly terrors and swat her hand away with such force. All she wanted was to comfort him, her gentle rubs on his face was all he needed at that moment. Then why did he refuse to open the door and face her?

"I want to help, Si. I want to be there for you like you have been for me all this time." He looked at himself in the mirror, the face he dreaded to see every day. He wore the mask for a reason and as much as Johnny pestered him for the real reasons, it had always been more than just hiding his face for safety. His dusty blonde strands and brown irises remind him of a bastard he shouldn't be thinking of. The bastard he took care of when he just had enough, the bastard who tyrannized not only him, but his dear mother and brother. His lover on the other side of the door seemed to be in love with all of him, the scars, wounds, bruises, even the face he thought he would despise all his life.

"You're more than your father's son. You're Simon, my Simon.." Simon thought of his mother often, Tommy and Beth too. Simon also thought of having a little critter like Joseph crawling around the house, someone whom he can call his. Someone he can raise with the love of his life. Someone to let him prove that he indeed did not turn out to be the person he had sworn to loathe for an eternity. Simon wished to have a family he would love and cherish. But he did not trust himself.

"Do not listen to the voices in your head, Simon. They're lying to you. You're worth it, you're worth the troubles. I'm here to help and I'm here to stay. Please..please let me in. Please let me help you, Si." Hearing her voice break was the last straw and he couldn't torture himself with solitude anymore. He opened the door very slowly, surprisingly avoiding the creaking of the hinges which much needed some greasing. He looked down to find her little face peering into him, her curious eyes always searching for something. Under her scrutinizing gaze, Simon felt the tiniest droplet of water roll down from his forehead to his lashes, down to his chin. Her hand took his, squeezing his fingers softly before she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He let go of every insecurity and every doubt he had about himself, snaking his arms around her waist.

Dipping his head down and into her neck, he took the longest breath in and inhaled her all so familiar scent. Simon thought she never needed perfume, her body odor was so enticing and comforting to him that he'd rather not fill his nostrils with anything artificial. His arms tightened and he let out the softest sniffle, burying his face even further into her neck. He felt two small hands rubbing his back, running over the muscles he spent hours in the gym to build.

Before meeting her, Simon thought that crying in front of his partner was the stupidest thing possible. How would it look if a 6'4 military man was breaking down in tears in the arms of his little love? He was supposed to be a man, he was supposed to be the one providing her comfort and not the other way. But at that moment of vulnerability, his ego had been overtaken by the need to feel her close. She was the only one who would see through Ghost and not once judge him. "This..I'm so sorry, lovie..I-I can't make it stop." "I know, darling. I know. But I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, Si." Simon never once understood how she broke through the tough walls he had built, how she took his ice cold heart and warmed it up at the cost of her patience. She had always been so gentle with him, even when he felt frustrated and yelled profanities at her, not realizing that she was not one of the people who would disregard how he felt. She taught him how to apologize with words, she always reassured him that he could be gentle despite not once finding peace in his tragic life. And yes, he was gentle with her. He did apologize with words every single time he ended up saying something he didn't mean.

He had a ritual to calm her down when she was upset, the reason being him or not. He would sit her down on his lap, wipe her tears and place tender kisses on her forehead. He did everything in his power to not see his angel cry, specially not because of him. So why was it weird to him when she did the same? Why did it not feel right when it was her turn to show how much he deserved to be held and comforted too? "I'll tell you this again and again and again. You're worth it, Si. You're worth the stupid arguments we get into sometimes, you're worth the silent treatment, you're worth all the wrong things you've once said to me. You wanna know why?" He only nodded his head, not bringing his face out of her neck. "Because I see the change in you. I see you trying, I see you improving. You've gotten so much better at expressing yourself, you apologize with words, you think twice before saying anything to me. I know there had been moments you've slipped up, but that does not mean that you don't deserve love." And suddenly, everything she said made sense to Simon. He had improved, he tried his best to be better, to be gentler, to be kinder. To her and to himself. So what if he had said something he shouldn't have? He knew how to recognize his mistakes and appropriately apologize for it, he knew how to make up for his behavior. He knew how to say sorry without bullshitting, he knew how to admit that he had done something wrong and he knew how to fix it. And she had been by his side all the time, refusing to be anything but kind, loving and understanding. How could he not love her? "I swear, lovie..I ain't leaving you till the day I die. I promise" "I love you too, Si. Wanna get back to bed?" "Yeah."

proofread ✓ pearly venus, 00:44 240227

[leilakisakabiri]

World Cup (Gavi)

Summary: Gavi is selected for the national team and you’re there to celebrate with him.

Warning(s): None

A/N: Please send in any requests if you have any. 

Word Count: [1193]

You rushed out of your car, knocking on the door urgently.

“Y/n. Hello dear, come in!” Gavi’s mother ushered you inside.

“Hi, did I miss it?” You asked nervously.

Today was the day that Gavi would find out if he got selected for the World Cup team, and you had promised him that whatever the decision, you would be there to support him. You knew that it was an honor to play for your country and that he wanted it more than anything, it was all he had dreamed about since he first kicked a football.

You had been stuck in an exam for the past two hours and had just been released, rushing over right away. Originally, your exam had been scheduled for three hours prior but due to a plumbing issue in the building where the test was supposed to be, they had to push it back an hour, leaving you with barely enough time to finish the exam and drive to Gavi’s.

“You just made it, we’re working on setting up the broadcast. Gavi’s upstairs.” She spoke.

You thanked her before hurrying up the stairs.

You knocked on the door and heard his voice through the door.

“I’ll be done soon, just give me a minute.”

“It’s Y/n.” You spoke.

You heard shuffling, and a second later the door opened to reveal a very stressed-out Gavi.

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

You instantly felt the guilt wash over you, “I’m so sorry there was an issue with my exam, and it got pushed back, so I barely had time to make it here.”

He pulled you into his room, sitting on the bed, “That’s fine. Thanks for coming, I’m glad you’re here.”

You smiled, sitting next to him, grabbing his hand that was playing with his hoodie string, “No problem. I got you.”

You both fell into silence until you noticed him biting the inside of his cheek and furrowing his brows excessively.

You leaned over, placing your arm over his shoulders, “Hey, everything’s going to be okay. You’re already so talented, and no one can take that away from you. Plus, you’re only eighteen and you already have such a bright future ahead of you.”

He leaned into your touch, “I guess. I’ve just wanted this for as long as I can remember, and I feel like I worked hard, but I don’t know, what if it’s not enough?”

“Mmm, yah I didn’t think of that, you’re probably right.” You nodded, agreeing with him.

Gavi pulled away from you looking almost offended.

You laughed, “I’m just kidding obviously. Your family loves you, and I do too, regardless of what happens. You’ve done everything right. It’s out of your hands now.”

“But what about Spain, what if they don’t love me?” He questioned.

“Well, if you don’t have haters, have you really even achieved anything?”

He contemplated your words, “That’s kinda deep.”

You smiled sweetly, “I know. Now c’mon, your mom said she almost had the broadcast set up.”

You followed him out of the room and walked downstairs.

Almost everyone was in the living room, crowded onto the couch, as they counted down the minutes till the program started.

You stood by the doorway and watched as they all moved to accommodate Gavi, making him sit in the middle of the couch as they reached over to reassure him.

You knew that even if he didn’t get picked today it would be okay because he had such a great support system, and people who would love him regardless of what happened.

He looked up at you, motioning for you to join him, scooting over to make space for you between him and his mother.

You felt bad separating him from his family, wanting them to be able to celebrate together if he got picked, so you opted to sit on the floor in front of the couch, resting against Gavi’s legs.

“Sit up here.” He urged.

You waved him off, letting him know you were fine on the floor.

Aurora came to join you a few seconds later, and the broadcast officially began.

You felt Gavi reach down and grab your hand as the news reporters started speaking, placing it on his knee.

He gave your hand a squeeze, and you gave a quick squeeze back.

It was time.

The announcers began by talking about different theories and tactics before the official selection announcements began.

You all sat silently with labored breaths as you heard the first national team player be announced.

There was a round of cheers when Pedri’s name was called up.

The draft continued and soon there were only around ten spots left to be selected.

You felt yourself growing nervous; you couldn’t imagine how Gavi felt. He had an immense pressure on him, and you couldn’t fathom how he was able to handle it all.

You looked up at him and watched as he chewed on his bottom lip, sitting on the edge of his seat, nerves on full display.

You felt his hand squeeze your hand again, not being able to control his anxiety, and you have him an equally hard squeeze back, letting him know that it would be okay.

You began to pray that he would get chosen, you knew that he deserved it and that he would do amazing things if he got the chance.

You stared intently at the screen, your heart thudding against your chest.

“The player selected for number nine for the national team is, Pablo Gavira.”

Immediately, cheers and screams erupted around you. You were smiling so wide it hurt, clapping your hands, cheering along.

You reached over to hug Aurora, the both of you ecstatic for him.

You got up, seeing him being hugged and showered with praise from his parents.

You saw him break apart with a huge smile on his face, his eyes shimmering with happiness.

He looked over at you and his smile mirrored your own.

Before you knew it, he had picked you up, spinning you around in excitement.

You let out a loud laugh, squealing as he kept spinning.

He had one arm wrapped around you, the other making a fist in the air as he celebrated.

He gently put you down and you grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him, unable to hide your excitement, “Congratulations! You deserve it so much. I knew you could do it!”

You pulled him into a hug, squeezing his body, the pure joy radiating from him immensely lifting your mood.

“What was the pep talk for before then?” He questioned once you broke apart.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Oh that, I just had to make sure you didn’t get too cocky. But I guess that’s out the window now.”

He grinned looking down at you, “Don’t worry amor, I’ll stay humble. Just for you.”

You snorted, not even bothering to reply as you saw him become swarmed by his family and friends, all wanting to congratulate him.

Yep, he definitely was going to let it get to his head, but you just had to make sure you were there to knock him down a peg every so often.  

[moonpetrichors-blog]

hi hii, hope you’re having a great day/night! i have another idea for a request 🕺so you remember after payakan saved lo’ak and lo’ak went to tell the others and nobody really believed him? i was thinking that the reader could’ve been the only one to believe him so he took them to meet payakan and seeing how fascinated the reader was with payakan made lo’ak fall in love or something idk shsjshsb

🦕

Believe in Me

Tags: Lo’ak x Metkayina!Reader, Oneshot, Gn!Reader, Fluff, Power of Trust, They Fell First But He Fell Harder

Warnings: Word Cockblocker is Used (Not Sexually, But I Couldn’t Find a More Innocent Term)

When Lo’ak told the story of how he was saved to the others, none of them believed him. They told him to stay away, that Payakan is a killer, and he should do best to avoid him. You believed in him though, and who is Lo’ak to do what others tell him to?

THIS IDEA IS SO CUTE 😭😭 I love ur Lo’ak requests lol they’re keeping me alive rn 👊👊 I had sm fun writing this!!

When they start swimming underwater, listen to Ice Dance by Danny Elfman for a more immersive experience.

* ˚ ✦ 1193 Words • Read below the cut  

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [27/12/22] ❞  

“He saved me, he really did!”

As Lo'ak recounted his story, the young Na'vi were huddled in a circle. Rotxo and Aonung exchanged glances; everyone appeared concerned about him. Payakan was a murderer, and Lo'ak was merely extraordinarily fortunate to be alive.

“Kiri, you believe me, right?”

She remained silent and averted her gaze away from his. “They know this place better than we do.”

Tsireya shook her head. “Lo’ak, please don’t go looking for Payakan. You’ll be killed!”

“Fine, don’t believe me! I know what I saw!” Lo'ak abruptly rose up, preparing to storm away from the group.

You seized his forearm to keep him from fleeing. Lo'ak reached behind his shoulder to yank his arm away from you; he didn’t need to hear he was crazy from you, too. Before he could tear his arm away, he stiffened in place as you spoke.

“I believe you.”

Everyone turned to gawk at you, some with their jaws gaping, others silently snickering. You knew full well the story of Payakan, so why were you supporting this? You withdrew your arm and smiled warmly at Lo’ak. His head hung low, concealing the grin upon his lips. Aonung murmured to Rotxo about how you have a crush, and you shot him a death stare. Aonung stopped his teasing, but Lo'ak didn't seem to notice.

“Y/N, why would you believe him? You shouldn’t encourage it!”

You gave Tsireya a frown. “And what if he’s telling the truth?”

Everyone was deafeningly hushed as you argued against her. You scoffed at them all when they had nothing left to say, and walked away accompanied by Lo'ak. He thanked you quietly for trusting him.

To be truthful, you'd heard the tales about how dangerous Payakan was. You grew up with these people, after all. Although you believed in Lo'ak, you had your reservations; deep down, you knew the main reason why you wanted to trust his words was because you'd been admiring him since he first arrived in your village. You were just too timid to approach Lo’ak, so can anyone fault you for using this as an opportunity?

“Y/N, come with me. I’ll introduce you to Payakan.”

You smiled. “I’d love that.”

...

“This way, I know Payakan is around here!”

Lo'ak clasped your hand in his and guided you to the water. You might have been second-guessing your judgment at this point; you claimed you believed in him, but what if Payakan was a tulkun with exceptional manipulation abilities? Is that even feasible?

You dove into the water and began swimming after Lo'ak as he went further out into the ocean, putting your daydreaming to a halt. Once you had reached decently open waters beyond the reef, Lo'ak called for Payakan. You were nervous about what lay ahead of you, but you were also intrigued.

After what seemed like a few minutes of silence, you laid a hand on Lo'ak's shoulder.

“I don’t think he’s--”

With a yelp, you were cut off as something elevated your body above the surface of the water; a gigantic fin. You clutched it for support, and Lo'ak immediately swam besides your knees so you could rest a palm on his shoulder. He chuckled, and you swirled your feet in the water after the tulkun plateaued. Payakan whistled, and his genial nature enthralled you.

You cocked your head towards Lo'ak, a playful smirk on your lips. “Can we swim with him?”

Lo'ak concurred, beaming from ear to ear. You intertwined your fingers with his, your other hand gripping Payakan as he plunged underwater. You tried not to tumble off as the sheer force of the act caused you to hover above his fin, but Lo'ak was there to hold you in position.

You shifted into a horizontal position once you were settled in the water to enable you to swim comfortably. Lo'ak hooked his fist above yours on the edge of Payakan's fin, keeping your fingers entwined, so that you could swim in tandem with one another. The action made you flush, and you were grateful that the water obscured his vision somewhat.

Lo'ak was captivated by you as you glided across the expansive aquatic panorama. Although he had swum beyond the reef before, he had never witnessed it like this, with you at his side, giggling besides him as if it were nobody's business. It was in this snapshot of time that he saw you as vividly as ever; amongst the pulsing rhythm of the sea, his heartbeat drummed in his ears at the sight of you, realizing that the reason you appeared so delighted was because of him.

He captured a mental image of you and preserved it as a memory that only he would behold. Just for him, no one else.

With his hands, he signed ‘you’re pretty’.

God, he must be insane, he thinks. Your body froze as you registered what he had signed, and before you could react, Payakan sped through the water, nearly knocking you off your feet. In a frenzy, Lo'ak draped an arm across your back, clutching your arm to secure you against him. You could feel the hammering of his heartbeat against you, being so near to his chest.

Taking a peek at his panicked expression, you realized you could see a lot from this viewpoint. You noted the curvature of his lips, the slant of his nose, and the acuteness of his jawline, for instance. You subconsciously leant towards his face, entranced by his features.

Lo'ak inclined his head to peer at you, curious as to what you were doing. He was taken aback by your unexpected closeness and immediately felt bashful. Were you planning on kissing him? He'd never kissed anyone before!

Before you closed the distance between you both, you immediately turned your head away from him, snickering to yourself as he nearly took the bait. When you looked over your shoulder, Lo’ak appeared stunned. Before you could sign that his expression looked like a turtapede, he grabbed you by the cheeks (gently, of course), and captured your lips in a longing kiss. Immediately, Payakan soughed, and threw Lo’ak off his fin.

You slapped your palm over your mouth, startled and amused, as he swam after you and Payakan. The tulkun surged to the surface of the ocean, and Lo'ak bobbed out of the saltwater, shaking the brine from out his braids. You turned to sit upright, and held something akin to mirth in your gaze as you grasped your abdomen in a fit of laughter. Lo'ak shot a mischievous sneer in Payakan's direction, huffing as he rolled his eyes. Cockblocker.

“Well, he’s definitely a killer, alright!”

He groaned in embarrassment. “More like you. If I died, it’d be your fault.”

Although his sentence appeared stern and somber, the crinkle of his eyes and curl of his lips conveyed a different narrative, betraying the meaning of his words. How had he not previously fallen in love with you? Maybe the feeling was always there, lying torpid like a dormant volcano, suddenly stirred awake by you.

“Oh? I’m the death of you?”

‘You don’t even know,’ is all he could think.

[babydin]

Love in the Middle of a Firefight - PART TWO

The pregnancy is easy, despite the circumstances. The pregnancy was the easy part, Joel was supportive, he helped out, he ran around like a Retriever whenever you asked him to and Ellie asked a million questions every single day. But when the baby arrives Joel doesn't know if he remembers how to love something so fragile. - Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - (2/?) - Joel is dad, Joel is Daddy, paternal postnatal depression, pregnancy sex, oral. Not necessarily in this chapter, but for sure in this series!! Trauma references. Domesticated af. Angsty in places! - 1193 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! - A/N: I didn't think too hard about the timeline, just vaguely after the events of S1, they go to Jackson to Tommy's place and live there and nothing bad happens. This will be in multiple parts but I haven't planned for how many! There will be time-jumps in each of the parts because I'm impatient™️

Ellie looked blankly between the two of you. She had that look like she was waiting for the punchline of one of Joel’s shitty dad jokes. 

PART ONE

“We’re home!”

    Joel and Ellie walked home from school every day. He always took her to school, and he always picked her up. Walking was just their thing. You had been anxiously waiting for Joel to announce their arrival because he had promised he wouldn’t say anything to her until you were all together, you wondered if he had kept up that bargain. “How was school?” You ask, watching Ellie hang up her jacket and then walk into the living room to flop onto the couch. “Some kid pushed another kid into a garbage can and a fight broke out.” Ellie explained, her lips pursing slightly and her brows raising. Joel frowned a little and you asked “Were you either of the kids in that story?” “I was not.”

You took Joel’s hand and sat down with him on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Babygirl,” he said, “we have somethin’ we need to tell you. Somethin’ important.” Ellie’s eyes darted between the two of you as she tried to figure out what was going on before either of you said anything, “I’m not leaving. Fuck off, Joel. I’m not going anywhere. I like it here, I have friends!”  Ellie had fallen into the habit of calling him Dad, unless she was furious with him then he was always Joel. 

Joel reached out with both his hands and took hers, looking at her in a way that almost forced her to keep eye contact with him, “We ain’t goin’ nowhere. We’re safe here, okay? We don’t leave.” He sits up a little and you look between the two of them, they are thick as thieves, they talk without words and there is so much that remains unspoken between them but they know. “Are you getting divorced?” Ellie asked, her chin dropping down into her chest and her eyes looking from you to Joel and back again rapidly. You open your mouth to correct her but decide against it. You and Joel weren’t married, not by any technicalities anyway; you talked about it once, it was always in passing, until one day you set a date with a priest and a chapel but the priest died and there wasn’t anyone else ordained to perform a wedding. That night Joel cooked chicken wings on a barbecue in the yard, you drank beer and sat and cuddled under the stars. You shared your vows, you exchanged rings that you had both made from scraps of metal from the junkyard. Joel had helped you with yours, he was so clever with tools, the ring he gave you was perfect and looked as if it could’ve come from a store; he scratched coordinates inside the band from the spot you had shared your first kiss - they could’ve been coordinates to a burnt out Wendy’s and you’d have been none the wiser, the thought was painfully romantic and you cried when he told you. Yours was a little jankier, but he didn’t mind that, he said it suited him. From that night on he always called you ‘the Missus’. You supposed in a broken world that was about as official as it was going to get. “How would you feel about bein’ a big sister?” Joel’s voice had softened slightly as he presented the question to Ellie. He didn’t know how she would react, she’d grown up in this pandemic, she navigated the world so much differently because of the situations she had been forced into and now they were safe in Jackson, Joel only wanted her to be a kid, catch up on the years she had missed. Ellie looked blankly between the two of you. She had that look like she was waiting for the punchline of one of Joel’s shitty dad jokes. “I’m pregnant.” the words leave your mouth so abruptly that it even catches you off guard, and it’s the first time you’ve said it out loud.  Suddenly it all feels real. The man you were playing house with by your side, the orphan you’d both somehow adopted as your own, in the middle of a war, your found family was about to grow by one more. Ellie giggled in her child-like way and fell back into the couch in a way that made Joel sit up defensively. “It’s difficult for me to believe that someone willingly reproduced with you.” Ellie teased. It’s clear that she thinks her leg is being pulled. “It was an accident, but you don’t need to be a dick about it.” You swatted Joel’s thigh, “Joel!” He turned to face you with an expression that was full of apologies “Obviously I didn’t mean it like that.” Ellie sat up again and leaned forward, her eyes narrowing a little as she looked at you with a calculated gaze, “Are you serious? Are you pregnant? For real?” Your eyes find hers, and your hands reach out to wrap around her own as you nod earnestly, hoping the message gets through. Joel reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt to show her the print out from the ultrasound, he points to the blip inside the hollows of your uterus and makes a sound that might’ve been him saying ‘there’ if he had opened his lips a little more. Ellie’s expression changes. You remember again that she’s experiencing a lot of things for the first time and this is the first ultrasound she’s seen, this is the first pregnancy she’s been this close to. “That’s a baby?” she asked, sounding utterly enchanted by it, unable to take her eyes off of it. “It’s so little.” “The nurse reckoned I’m about 7 weeks along,” you explain, “so in another 30 or so weeks it’ll be fully cooked.” “That’s a long time.” Ellie looked back at you, she sounded disappointed at the idea of having to wait so long to earn her role of big sister. “Trust me,” Joel added, “it’ll fly by.” Ellie’s eyes drifted back to the ultrasound, and Joel pushed it a little closer to her. She pulled her hands from yours and took the photo, bringing it up to her face for a closer inspection, “That’s so fuckin’ cool.” You and Joel both breathe out a sigh of relief in unison. That was all you had both wanted, Ellie’s approval. You were a family, and a team, you had to do everything together or it just didn’t work; you’d fought too hard to get to where you were. Joel put his hand on your thigh and his earlier promises that everything was going to be okay echoed in your mind. But then Ellie reminded you both of just how much of her education she had missed being in her situation and then traveling with Joel when she looked up from the photo and asked, “So when it is fully cooked, will the doctor have to cut it out of you?” Joel pulled a face and took a sharp inward breath as he patted your knee and pushed himself up off the coffee table, kissing your cheek on the way “That is all you, I am going to start dinner.”

[mintheleaf]

Second Lead Syndrome, Patient Name: Gojo Satoru. (cw: Mentions of character's death, canon compliant, there might be some slight ooc on Gojo's characteristic, fem!reader due to mention of pregnancy, brief Nanami x reader, only up to the Shibuya arc as I don't want to possibly spoil those who haven't read the manga or seen the spoilers, apologies if I do miss any warnings.)

Word count: 1193 (my hands-)

Gojo Satoru, a man who shifted the balance of the world when he was born onto this earth. A man who had people cowered in fear when he graced them with his presence, a man who had admirers falling to their knees for a chance with him, a man who had everything in the palm of his hands. Almost everything.

Year 2006,

Warm and sunny, the air was ringing with the sounds of laughter. Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and yours. The laughter lingered in the air like the lingered gazes Satoru had sneakily made to you. Your eyes welled with tears as you clutched your stomach from laughing too hard at Suguru's awful attempt at a joke. Satoru's heart skipped a beat, maybe two. Cheeks rosy as he lets you lean onto him for support. This is nice, the close proximity was nice, everything was just perfect. Until... it wasn't.

"Since you all promised me you won't laugh, I'll tell you... I really, really like Nanami," you bashfully admitted under a starry night to the other three. Suguru and Shoko were egging you on regards to your feelings for the sombre junior, but Satoru was on edge. How? How can a monotonous boy who rarely smiles swoop your heart first? How can he, the Gojo Satoru, the strongest of all, lose to a mere man like him? Ugly thoughts reared in his mind, gnashing it's teeth, demanding for answers. Satoru quickly tucked it away as you brought his attention back to reality. "You guys would make a great couple." "Why do you sound so paasive aggresive Satoru?" you feign hurt as you playfully pout at him. Satoru could only fake a chuckle as Suguru and Shoko looked at each other with a knowing worry. Blue eyes turned green, and things went for the worst for Gojo Satoru.

Year 2007

The news of Suguru's betrayal shook both you and Satoru's hearts, your best friend betraying you, Satoru and Shoko was the last thing you would imagine. After the failure of protecting Riko Amanai last year, Suguru and Satoru drifted apart as Satoru began working on mastering his techniques and standing alone as the strongest sorcerer. Although you did tried your best to be the thread that kept the friendship together, it was broken apart albeit your attempt. Guilt stricken and in mourning of the loss of your friendship with Satoru and Suguru, you had found solace in Kento as he too mourned over Haibara's death. With Kento unable to blame Suguru as he understands his feelings, your attraction to Kento deepened. Satoru saw this, and despite his emotions telling him to reconnect with you, his ego and his need to stand alone as the strongest won over. Occasionally talking to you became into awkward greetings as you and Kento stuck to each other by the hip.

With Kento's departure from the world of Jujutsu right after he gratuated, you followed along while maintaining contact with the others. Years went by when Satoru finally had the right mind to contact you, he was instead greeted with a call coming from you. "I didn't expect you would pick up actually, but since you did I'm glad. I actually want to invite you to my wedding, me and Kento initially planned to send you a card but-..." Satoru mind went blank as you continued on your talk, unknowingly that your conversation with him was one-sided. The only thing repeated in his mind was "you're... getting... married..." When the day of the wedding came, he knew he wasn't ready to face you. The people around him was buzzing with happiness for the new couple, unable to see or feel how he felt. When he saw you in your dress, he knew that his time was up. But oh how beautiful you looked in that dress and how he wished it was him waiting for you by the altar instead of Nanami. When you caught his gaze in the crowd, you smiled. It felt like the world had slowed down as his heartbeat picked up. The only thing he could do was smile back as he watch your make your way to your future husband.

Year 2018

Things weren't exactly going as smooth as Satoru had hope. Not only had he lost the chance to win your heart, he lost his best friend, his moral compass, his emotional support. As an added insult to the injuries, you've announced your departure from being the school's teacher due to your pregnancy. How can he forget, you were a married woman for a few years now. A married woman that is not his to love and care, a woman that is not carrying his legacy with him, a woman that he is still oh-so-hopelessly in love with.

You looked so radiant, so beautiful with the glow of motherhood despite just starting it. Satoru wished it was him, he wished it was him who had Nanami's life. But he can't blame him, to be with a woman like you is something that Satoru would kill a thousand men for. He would carry the weight of the world if it meant he gets to stand by your side till death parts him and you away. The ugly thoughts never left, it had been the one to kept him accompanied in his darkest days. Feeding off from his jealousy as he scrolled through your socials, admiring your domestic life with Nanami. With a heavy sigh, he walked away from the students that had surrounded you, wishing farewell. Blue eyes that turned green had deepened its shade.

October 31st, 2018

Chaos, chaos was around and thriving in Shibuya station. Mangled humans, humans that turned into cursed entities, blood and death was eminent in the air of the subway station. Yet your radiant gaze was the only thing in Satoru's mind. It mingled with the disgusting feral thoughts of killing intent as Satoru demolish curses after curses. Hanami's death brought nothing but joy to him. Yet the poor man was rendered into a speechless boy as the voice of his old, and deceased friend rang into his ears. Memories came back, ignited by the spark of "Suguru's" voice. The memories of you, Suguru and Shoko, the time spent between all four of you came crashing into his mind. Before Satoru could do anything, he was trapped. Trapped by the binds of the prison realm. Everything happened too suddenly, he didn't even had the time to tell you how he felt, how he was a fool without you, how he cannot live without you.

Not even his Six-eyes could predict this, he knew that this was not Suguru, his Six-eyes tells him. And yet, there's nothing he could do for now. As the gates of the prison realm slowly dawned upon him, enclosing him in darkness, the only thing he could do is stare into the eyes of his old friend as his mind raced to tell you things that could not be reached to your ears. How ironic for the one with everything was trapped in a cage where the things he wanted are out of his reach.

A/n: Ngl, I kind of hate how I ended it and I'm not sure if it can be classified as Second Lead Syndrome. But, ehh mistakes are meant to be made as a way to improve in the future. Hope you enjoyed and look forward for the other stories of this series :)

[mariam17]

You Saved Me

Summary: You are a 22 year old woman and have a 3 year old daughter by your wife who regularly abuses you. One day a blonde woman witnesses your wife being physical with you and does something about it.

Pairing: Villanelle x Female Reader x Daughter

Word Count: 1193

A/N: Critique is welcomed!

I'm sitting at a table in the back of the coffee shop just watching people live their daily lives. I wish I could be like them, I wish I could live a normal life but I can't. I have to carry around this burden because of Eve, knowing that it was my fault that she died. I should've been more careful, I should've known it was too good to be true. It should've been me, I already caused her too much pain, and now it's stuck with her forever.

"Shut up, stop bothering me, I'll get her medicine tomorrow, just relax!"

I snap my head up to the direction of the noise to find that it was coming from outside. It is a horrible day to be out, the sky was glum how it often is in the UK. There were two fairly attractive women who seemed to be arguing, one significantly taller than the other one standing at about 6'3 and the other 5'3. I looked down next to them and saw a little girl who looked about 3 years old. She's in a stroller sleeping bundled up in blankets. I look back up to the couple and witness the taller woman become increasingly agressive to the shorter one. Normally I would mind my business but this was different. The shorter woman looked scared, and when Eve died in my arms I promised her that I would be better, that I would do better for her. So I keep my eyes trained on the couple, making sure that nothing bad happens, then SMACK. I see the taller woman slap the other one. No one looked, no one cared. Just me. But for some reason I really find myself caring. I want to say something, do anything really, but I don't know if that's my place. So I watch. I watch as the taller woman walks away from her and the child, or rather storms away. I watch as the woman begins to tear up and I watch how the child remains asleep. Then I watch as she slowly looks up at me. She stares at me for a solid minute and I hold her gaze, she looks scared, maybe that I could report what I saw, or worried that I won't. I watch as she peels her eyes away from me and violently wipes her tears and decides to not enter the shop. She walks away rapidly and pushes the stroller along with her. That is when I decide I have a new obsession, an obsession to make sure that this beautiful woman and her child are okay.

I decide to return back to the same coffee shop the next day in hopes that I might see the woman and child again. When I arrive she was already there with her daughter who seemed to be doing better than the day before. They're sitting at the table I was the previous day. The mother, I assume was drinking a hot chocolate or a coffee, and the girl was golfing down a croissant. I normally don't care for kids, in-fact I think that they are quite repulsive and fucking annoying, but this one didn't seem like the usual kid. She seemed different, fun maybe. I enter the welcoming aura of the coffee shop and take in how beautifully decorated it is. There are string lights strung all over the walls and synthetic vines right under them. The beige colored walls complemented the vines and string lights beautifully, reminds me of Eve in a way. Warm and inviting.

"Hello, welcome to Carol's what can I get you?"

I looked up to the counter and see a young woman who looked to be about 19 years old asking me what I wanted to order.

"A coffee please, black with two sugars." I replied back to her

"Alright, that will be out in about two minutes"

"Okay, thanks." I give her the money in cash and head to the table the mother and child were sitting at. When I take my seat the mother immediately looks at me with a confused and slightly sour expression.

"Umm, hello?" She says and looks at me confused.

Her accent isn't British, I recognize that she's American immediately.

"Mommy is she your friend?"

The little girl speaks up and looks at her mom. I realize that she's American too so that means they must have moved here recently.

"No Jatu, I have no idea who this woman is. Who are you exactly?"

"Villanelle." I smile and reach out my hand so she can shake it, and she surprisingly does.

"Y/N, and this is my daughter Kadijatu." She gestures to her kid.

"Hiiiii, you're pretty!" Kadijatu averts her eyes to

Me and sticks out her hand as well. I shake it.

"Why thank you, it's nice to know someone here has manners." I smirk at her mother and Jatu giggles.

Y/N rolls her eyes then stale faces me.

"So, why have you chosen to grace us with your presence today? Do you enjoy bothering people?" She looks at me smug.

"Yes actually, it's one of my favorite hobbies." I grin widely at her. She rolls her eyes. I lean in closer to her and whisper.

"And I saw what happened to you the other day, I wanted to make sure that you're.....okay." She stiffens almost immediately and grabs her daughters hand and her purse.

"Okay, well this has been lovely, thank you for keeping us company but my wife is expecting me home. Goodbye." She offers me a fake smile and gets up from her seat.

I stare at her and her child and grabs Y/N's arm and inspect it.

"You really rather go back there, why would you subject yourself to that?" I stare at her in her eyes and grip her arm tighter.

She tries to shake herself out of my grasp but I'm stronger than her. I think she's scared. No, I know she is. But I honestly have no interest in hurting her, I don't have much interest in hurting people these days. Aside from Carolyn, the twelve, and Y/N's wife.  Never mind, I guess I do.

"You know, I saw you the other day. I was afraid of you saying something to the cops maybe... I think you should leave me alone. It's none of your business." She stares at me with venom in her eyes but also a sort of understanding.

"Okay." I let go of her arm. "Take my number." I pull out a pen out of my breast pocket and write it on her hand.

She scoffs. "I don't want your number."

"Well you have it." We stare at each other for a while until she averts her eyes.

"Jatu let's go." She looks at her daughter.

"Okay, bye Nellie!" She waves excitedly at me

"Bye!" I smile at her and return her wave.

I watch as the pair walk out the door in hopes that Y/N will actually call me. I think she will, I think she was just waiting on a way out.

An:

Hi guys! This is my first story in a while I hope ya'll enjoyed it, If ya'll have any tips to improve my writing please let me know! And the reader will be Black since there is not many black reader fics out there in any fandom and I'm quite tired of it. Thank you for reading!

[azrielsbabyg]

Hi! I saw on an Az fic you wrote that you were taking requests. If you still were, I'd love some bondage with Kallias smut. Or if you'd prefer not to write smut, maybe reader is Illyrian and her wings are cold?

Hellooooo thank you so much for sending in this request! 🫶🏻 I'm not yet sure how to write smut or even go about it but I am not opposed to it. Maybe someday in the future I will post something related to smut. I also don't really write for Kallias because I know nothing about the man 😭. For now, here you go! 💖

Warnings: None. (If I need to add something lmk)

Type: Fluff, comfort.

Word Count: 1193

Pairing: Kallias x Reader (Fem)

FROSTBITE

Drip, drip, drip.

The water slowly trickled off of the icicles lining the cave. Everything went wrong. So wrong. You were a spy from the Night Court. One of Azriel’s specially trained and Rhys’s most trusted. There were rumours of a rebellion starting in the Winter Court and he was concerned it might flare up to be more. However, that was all it was. A rumour. You could gather no intel, in fact, you even managed to piss off a couple of people because you probbed them too long unnecessarily. 

Which now led you here. Far out into some random cave on some random mountain, trying to find refuge against the brutal winds and snow. You were illyrian, yes, you should be able to withstand the cold due to your upbringing in the mountains. But this? This was just numbing, cruel and pricking.

“What happened?” Rhys spoke into your mind. “I can feel you weakened.”

“Mission was unsuccessful and unnecessary. The rumours were not true. I am now stuck in a random ass cave trying to hide from this fucking snow storm. Can you contact someone? Any friend of yours that might be able to help me?” You plead.

“I see. I will ask Kallias to come get you. Unless you don't want him?” You could hear the smirk in his voice. 

You wanted Kallias. Wanted him to be frank. But the last time you were face to face with him, you got drunk and rambled on about all the things you want to do to him and all the things you want him to do to you. Let’s just say the hangover hurt for more reasons than one.

“Just send him.” You groaned. Were you ready to face him? Absolutely the fuck not. But did you wish to see him? Yes. “My wings are cold.”

— — — — — —

After what seemed like hours you finally hear footsteps sloshing against the wetness of the pathway. Although you remind yourself to keep your guard up, threats could come in any form. 

“Y/N?” You hear Kallias’s husky, gravely voice. He approaches the entrance of the cave and sees you huddled up in the far corner, rubbing your arms to give yourself even a hint of warmth.

“H-Hey” Your voice shakes as you respond. The weather has caught up to you now, slowly seeping into your veins, almost making you feel like a statue, still. Lifeless. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Here.” He takes a tentative step towards you, assessing your form. You look sunken and shrivelled up. Your body was shivering uncontrollably no matter how much you tried to stop. He comes closer to you and kneels down in front of you, gently brushing away the wet strands of hair from your face, caressing your cheekbones in the process.

You lean into his touch. Somehow, even in this cold, harsh weather, he was warm. Warm like sunlight right after the storm clouds dissipate. Warm, like he’s exactly what you need. “Took you long enough.” It takes everything in you to muster up a small taunting smirk.

“Of course you would joke in this condition of yours.” He huffs out a laugh. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a material that feels like wool. “Rhys told me of your situation, tried to get here as soon as I could. This,” he says nudging the material in his hands,“is infused wool. We produce this to help migrants and visitors who have wings to shield against the cold. You just wrap it around your wings and button it up. It won’t restrict your flight.” He hands the material to you. 

“I-I don’t th-think I can move right n-now.” My speech comes out stammered. 

“Oh.” Understanding washes over his face. “I mean, I can always put it on for you, but I know how Illyrians are with their wings and what it means or feels like when you touch their wings… You sure you would trust me with that?

I offer him a small smile. Kallias, ever the respectful gentleman. “I called you to come save my life didn’t I? I trust you. Go for it.”

He carefully unwraps the material and folds it over your wings, one at a time. He makes sure not to hit any sensitive nerve or brush across any talons in fear of hurting you. You shudder and lean into him when he accidently brushes a knuckles across a big nerve. 

Your chests are pressed up against each other, your head coming up till his chin. Almost out of reflex, his arms fold around you and his chin rests atop your head. You slowly pull your head back and look up at him through wet eyelashes. Kallias closes his eyes, almost like he was counting down to ten, controlling himself. 

But you didn’t want him to hold himself back. You wanted him to unleash himself, to let himself have what he wants, have you. Hell, he wanted to lose control. He wanted to surge forward and claim you, taste you. But he knew one taste wouldn’t be enough, and one taste was all he could ask for.

“Y/N…” He whispers into the cold, rigid air. Like a plea. Like a prayer.

“Kallias,” You reply, begging as much as he was. 

“You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.” He warns.

“Lucky for me, fire is exactly what I need right now.” You breathe out.

That seemed to do it. Seemed to melt whatever restraint he held up against himself. In the blink of an eye, you were pushed against the stone wall, his lips crashing against yours. He kisses, no, devours you whole. Your entire body is burning up in contrast to the weather outside. The entire moment is a blur, clashing of lips, tongue and teeth. Hands roaming each other’s bodies, searching for satisfaction. He holds your wrists up against your head and pins your body with his hips. He lets out a moan into your mouth, and you swallow the sound taking anything he will give you.

You both pull away gasping for air, staring into each other’s eyes. His lips travel down your jaw to your neck, peppering kisses on his way. He brings his lips near your ear and whispers, “The things you do to me Y/N…”

You push up against him in response, not having the mindset to formulate words. 

“C’mon sweetie, let’s get you back to the palace and arrange a warm bath for you with some good food.” He kisses your cheeks awaiting a response from you.

“That sounds great actually. Really fucking needed right now.” You breathe in his scent. He smells of pine, cloves and sparkling clementine. He smells so comforting. He feels like home. 

He chuckles lightly, “And maybe, if you end up feeling better, we can do the things you wanted to last time we met. You know the ones where you wanted to ride me into-”

“Okay stop for the cauldron’s sake.” You slam your palm over his mouth in embarrassment. “Fine yeah, we can go now.”

He huffs out a laugh and kisses the middle of your palms. “As you wish sweetheart.”

— — — — — —

[mask131]

Vampires before they were cool... (1)

Before talking about Dracula, before talking about the first vampire in literature, why don’t we talk about the first vampires in beliefs and folklore?

Everybody is convinced that they know what vampires are. And yet they don’t. People were so influenced by the literary and then cinematic depiction of the vampire as the undead seducer, as the demonic aristocrat, as the tortured soul who just looks like a human with some pointy teeth… They forgot what vampires started out as, and the “original” vampire is. Which is actually something quite close to the modern idea of what a “zombie” is today – with some elements of evil ghosts and murderous wraiths thrown in. A ghostly zombie, how cool is that?

Let’s start at the beginning of it all (and maybe we’ll even go before the beginnings): when did the figure of the vampire per-se appeared in Europe? (I won’t talk here of all the proto-vampires and all the beliefs that led to the apparition of the vampire, I’ll keep this for another time).

[Also just to specify, again, because people are going to raise their fingers: this is by no mean an extensive, well-researched, definitive scholarly work. I'm just scribbling notes here and there in case people didn't heard about this stuff or wish to discover new roads to explore]

As I am using the chronology established by Jean Marigny, I will begin with the 11th century. It was in this era that the first rumors about dead people whose corpse was repeatedly found outside of their grave, and untouched by rot, started spreading around. The bishop of Cahors shared a story in 1031, during the second Council of Limoges (it was later relayed by Collin de Plancy in his “Dictionnaire infernal”): according to him, a knight of his congregation who had been excommunicated before dying had his body found several times outside of his grave, as if he kept coming out of it. The blood-sucking or “life-stealing” element would come later: a mix of old “paganism” from the Norse and Celtic beliefs, and of the superstitions of medieval Christianity, the image of the vampire as we would know it today first truly appeared in the British Isles, in Iceland, and in other Scandinavian countries. As early as the 12th century, we find in England stories of dead people (usually excommunicated) who each night leave their grave to either torment their loved ones, or cause a series of unusual deaths. When upon investigation the graves of the deceased were opened, their corpse was found unrotten and covered in blood – to end the “curse”, people usually burned the corpse after piercing it with a sword. Tales of the sort can be found in works such as “De Nugis Curialium” (1193) by Walter Map, or the “Historia Regis Anglicarum” (1196) by William of Newburgh. Since there was no real terminology or word for these creatures, the chronicles usually described them as “cadaver sanguisugus”.

These early cases of vampirism were a recurring thing throughout the following centuries – similar stories can be found all the way up to the Renaissance, though they were usually so episodic and isolated that they did not leave a lasting impact on cultures or beliefs.

It would only be by the 14th century that vampirism would start to exist as an “epidemic” – with manifestations of mass phenomenon in areas such as Bohemia, Silesia or Eastern Prussia. This generalization of vampires, and the sudden “spectacular” nature of their manifestations, is easy to explain: it all coincides with the great plagues epidemics. It was well known that, out of fear of contagion, the dead were very quickly and hastily buried – sometimes before they were even dead… Just being sick and disease enough could lead you to get six feet underground. Of course, as a result, if the graves or vaults were opened a few days later, one would find the body untouched by rot but covered in blood – as the poor people probably tried to claw their way out, or actually died after their burial. These grizzly tragedies, in a 16th century filled with superstitions and tormented by many diseases, resulted in a true boom of the vampire belief. An interesting case showing how even the upper-class of society could not escape is the one of the Prussian baron Steino of Retten. After dying of the plague, he was buried in grandiose funerals with all the honors due to his rank… But the following days, many people claimed to have seen the baron outside of his graves, walking around as if he was still alive. This led to the baron’s grave being opened, and his body pierced many times with a sword to “allow his soul to go to rest”. Numerous similar cases were reported in Bohemia around the same time.

In Western Europe, meanwhile, vampire cases stayed sporadic and episodic… Until 1484. On 1484, the pope Innocent VIII approved the publication of the “Malleus Maleficarum” – while most known as the “witch-hunter manual” which turned the medieval persecutions into an absolute horror, this book by the Dominicans Jakob Sprenger and Heinrich Kramer (who notably got into a lot of troubles and fighting with authorities of the Church precisely due to some of the beliefs in this book contradicting the Church teachings) was also an investigation and study of cases of succubus, incubus and undead. When it was said and shared around Europe that the pope had accepted and “sponsored”, so to speak, this book, it was a HUGE wave of shock with lasting effects: it meant the Church was officially recognizing the existence of the undead…

Then, the Reformation would too strengthen the legend of the vampire, during the second half of the 16th century. You see, there was a belief going around (and born during the times of the great plague) that the dead in their graves would devour themselves, as things looking like bite marks or self-devouring appeared on corpses dug out after their burial (again, very likely result of hasty funerals). This led to an entire belief that the dead, when in their grave, would “chew” and “masticate” (many people claimed hearing the jaws of the dead work when passing by their grave), and that they would eat dirt in their grave, their own shrouds, or their own flesh. (The theory of the “masticating corpses” was notoriously illustrated by a 1728 work by Michael Ranft, “De Masticatione Mortuorum in Tumulis Liber”). Soon the belief came that, when the “masticating death” started eating things like shroud or flesh, they would gain evil powers, dark abilities to cause the death of the living being. This led to the tradition of placing things inside the mouth of corpses to prevent them from “chewing”. Luther himself knew and had talked about these cases – he had been told of them by the pastor Georg Röhrer. From 1552 onward, in Prussia and Silesia, it became common to put a stone or a pfenning in the mouth of the dead – and since, again, the term “vampire” did not exist per se, they were called by the German name “Nachzehrer”, a term which was equated with both “predator” and “parasite”.

However, the Protestants taking over these early cases of vampirism is fascinating because it led to a complete change of doctrine as to the origins of vampirism. You see, up until now the “cadaver sanguisugus” were treated by a Catholic angle, and under the Neo-Platonician idea of a “life after death”. The body was deemed a physical vessel, a container of flesh who after death corrupted and dislocated, while the soul kept on living in some afterlife or otherworld awaiting the End of Times. Through redemption, the soul of the sinners could be saved – and these souls were also protected if they received the Christian sacraments before their death. However, those that did not receive the sacraments, or those that simply did not receive the final sacrament (the extreme unction, the sacrament of death), or even those that were not buried in a holy ground (excommunication, death by suicide) were doomed to never know salvation. From this belief came the idea of the “undead”, of the “unresting souls”, of “those that return in the flesh” – dead people who did not belong in this world anymore, and yet had no place in the afterlife. These cases of vampirism were considered as souls who came back from the Purgatory or the afterlife, and inhabited again their earthly bodies. But Protestants? Protestants had a whole other way to see things (for example, for them Purgatory did not exist) and this whole thing of “the souls coming back in their bodies” as nonsense. Instead, they explained these Nachzehrer by… witchcraft.

This was mostly the work of the Reformation theologians of Switzerland, Calvin or Louis Lavater. In 1581, Lavater wrote a treaty about “wraiths and spirits of the night”, and in there he claims that the undead are not the dead coming back to life, but rather demons that take the shape of those that once were living. This idea actually came from 1597, and from the king of Scotland James VI (later James the First of England) – a studier of occult sciences, he had written about these “face-stealing demons” in his work “Demonology” (another work which also greatly strengthened and hardened the witch-hunts and witchcraft-justified persecutions). This Reformation concept led to the cementation of the vampire in European culture as “the servant of the devil”.

[pierrai]

nen mating season. horny thoughts abt celeste. the fic.

Hello! Thank you for the request! I do love Nelice... and I will always have a soft spot for my sad, little boy Nen. I hope you enjoy despite his misery!! I hope I didn't get anything wrong about Alice... Mayhaps BB should write a Nelice fic so I can know more about how she'd act...

Character: Nen, Alice Word Count: 1193 Scenario: Mating season Nen Warnings: Slight NSFW, Nen's usual level of angst and self-loathing, implied past non-con

Nen

Nen absolutely hated this feeling.

He’d experienced it before, yes, but usually he was alone. He’d crawl into a lake, sink to the bottom and curl into a ball until the cold comfort of the water had cooled the heat in his loins. For as long as it could at least. It only happened twice per year, lasting a couple of months, and during those months, the heat would come and go in waves every couple of days in a way that annoyed him more than anything else.

He hated this natural instinct in him that told him he needed to breed. He didn’t want offspring. He had no interest in things such as ‘sex’ to begin with. He hated the burning heat in his chest… the fuzzy heat in his mind… Anything hot was bad. The cold and damp had never hurt him.

It was difficult to default to his usual routine now of hiding away and waiting now. There was this… this… complication.

The human woman, Alice.

He hadn’t asked to babysit a human, but the job had been forced upon him when she’d stumbled into his forest. If he didn’t watch this human, who knew what atrocities she might commit? Despite her apparent stupidity, she could have any number of tricks up her sleeve. At any moment, she’d drop this innocent act and reveal her true nature, Nen was sure. He didn’t trust her in the slightest, nor did he like her.

Which made it infinitely more frustrating that it was her causing him all this grief right now.

In the past, his heats eventually died down when his body figured out that he was not about to reproduce anytime soon. There was nothing—none of his people—around for him to talk to, let alone couple with. Now there was Alice, a human, and his natural biology was insistent on telling him that he had to have her.

But he didn’t want to have her. He didn’t want to have sex—he didn’t even want to touch himself. That was giving into desire, and he didn’t like desire either. It felt weird. It felt even weirder when that desire was so palpable and so clearly directed and this one human.

He really didn’t even like Alice. There was simply nothing to like about her. Apart from being human, she was just strange. She talked to herself even when Nen could hear her (he never made any comments), she grew scared and paranoid at nothing at all (then apologised, which Nen found silly) and she was so absent-minded (how many times exactly had he made sure she didn’t wander off into danger?).

Her stories were strange too. He couldn’t read human scripture all that well, so she read them to him instead. They were full of distrust, and the underlying message always seemed to be something along the lines of never relying on anyone, a message Nen found incredibly ironic coming from a human like her. He might’ve forgotten to think that with how well she told her stories—how nice her voice was to just listen to.

Regardless of what she was like as a person, didn’t attraction to a person require one to feel attracted to their appearance? Nen didn’t like Alice’s appearance at all. Her hair was short and dull. Her expression was often flat or morose. She had weird, round ears that were small and went red when it was cold and couldn’t move around her head like his could. She didn’t have a tail nor any horns or scales. She had scars on her legs that he didn’t want to ask about. Her skin was warm like his, and he didn’t like that either.

Sometimes her smile made his heart race. Her waist and stomach looked soft. Her breasts were pert and more than once he’d wondered how it might feel to touch them.

Another reason he didn’t like her. He wouldn’t have to have those thoughts if she was more careful when bathing. Unfortunately for Nen, the image of her raising her arms so she could wash her hair was perfectly preserved in his mind. If he didn’t need to keep watch of her just in case, if she’d just turned away so he didn’t have a chance to look—he wouldn’t have to think about her in the throes of his heat cycle.

He didn’t know what he wanted to do to her. Or maybe he did. He didn’t want to think about that either. His head had been a mess for days and try as he might to ignore Alice or maybe just ditch her for good, he felt guilty and sad at the thought of leaving her alone (again, something that must’ve been her fault). The best he could do was urge her to not wander off nor go anywhere without telling him, and grimace when she had the nerve to look concerned for him with all his sudden urgency. He craved the cold water of the lake.

Nen didn’t properly know how sex even worked. He hadn’t kissed anyone nor touched anyone. He hadn’t even been hugged when he was young, so what on earth was he supposed to know about fornicating with another being beyond what the Elders had briefly told him about how you put your thing into her thing and… so on and so forth. He felt much like an animal cluelessly driven by its instincts despite having no experience whatsoever. His body wanted to do something, but he didn’t know how.

It was honestly quite scary. Alice was a human. Nen was… half of that. This desire he felt must’ve been his father’s disgusting human blood compelling him to want this. To want to pin Alice down and breed her and when it would all be over, she’d suffer the same fate as Nen’s mother and birth another unnatural amalgamation of human and silvaen. It must’ve just been in his blood to repeat the circumstances of his own conception. He really was disgusting and human.

But, he didn’t want Alice to not want him, and he didn’t want to be violent with her either. Maybe he did want to pin her down a little bit, but he wanted her to enjoy it and want him back. It made between his legs hurt with want. A want to see what her pretty face might look like if it had that sort of expression. How it might feel if he really could touch her waist and her stomach and her breasts and between her legs and have him touch him back or kiss him. What it might be like to quench the desire he’d felt many times over, for nothing in particular, that was now so strong for one person.

He didn’t like Alice though, so he didn’t have to give any credence to those thoughts or his desires beyond the fact that his body would naturally want any other living being that happened to be by him before he’d go back to normal and feel none of it anymore. It just so happened to be Alice, and he really didn’t like Alice.

[justwritedreams]

Just me and you | Sehun

Idol Sehun x Reader

Word count: 1193 Genre: fluff, kinda angst Author: maari Warnings: reader being jealous yeah that's it Note: it's short but i just love it 😭 Request: can I request a sehun x reader we’re reader is jealous of Sejong and sehun and reader get in a fight over him spending a lot of time with Sejong and he said something mean and ignores reader and she brakes down crying with a happy ending

⫷ Exo Masterlist

Y/N had nothing to be jealous of.

She always repeated this to herself ever since she started dating Sehun.

He was with her, all the time he had free was dedicated to her and even with his busy schedule, he made video calls or sent photos and videos of what he was doing, to try to make up for the fact that he wasn't by her side always.

And that was okay because she understood his job and would never put herself in the position of the possessive and jealous girlfriend, she would never make him cut ties with anyone who was spending more time with him than she was.

Because again, she understood.

But in the last few days when Sehun was filming a new series, moving his entire schedule forward before the new comeback and before he enlisted, the fact that Sejeong was his scene partner again was eating away at her reason from the inside.

Y/N liked her, there was nothing wrong with the girl, she was funny, talented, beautiful. And that was the problem.

Because the more Sehun spent time with his co-worker, the more insecure Y/N became, she compared herself all the time to Sejeong and she felt bad about it.

But she couldn't help it.

Y/N had gone to Sehun's house to take care of Vivi, she always did when he spent more time away from home, and since the pet had had a medical procedure on the paw, using that weird protection in the neck, she didn't think twice going there and taking care of Vivi.

"I will not take too long." he said, walking back into the room and Y/N raised an eyebrow as his scent swept across the room quickly before he did. "It's script reading but it's going to be quick."

"Is that all it will be?" she asked as he walked over to rub Vivi's belly who was lying on Y/N's lap.

Sehun looked at her confused.

"I didn't understand." he kissed Y/N's cheek quickly and she bit her tongue to keep from sounding rude.

She had no reason.

"Last time you said you wouldn't be long, you ended up going to a restaurant." she recalled, trying to lighten her tone.

"I told you I couldn't refuse." he remembered, standing up straight. "The show's producers were there, it would be rude of me."

Y/N looked away, annoyed and decided not to say anything.

But it didn't help much since Sehun saw in her face that there was something wrong.

“What is it?” he asked, putting his wallet in his pants pocket. Y/N shook her head. "Oh come on, love, tell me!"

"Will Sejeong be there?" she didn't want the venom in her tongue to sound in her voice but it was impossible and when she looked at Sehun, he was frowning, scrutinizing her to make sure she was serious.

"Oh no, you're not going to start that." he laughed in disbelief.

"I just want to know." she defended herself. "Because, everywhere you go, she's there. It's on a variety show, she's doing a photoshoot in the same building as you."

"Because literally our agendas are unintentionally bumping into each other." he said in a matter-of-fact tone and she huffed, rolling her eyes.

"Of course, and I'm Santa Claus." she replied ironically and he put his hands on his hips.

"Seriously, you want to fight over my co-worker?" he asked, sounding tired.

"I don't want to fight about her!" she took a deep breath, trying not to raise her voice. "But you spend more time with her than me, it makes me upset." she admitted.

"I don't spend more time with her because I want to but because it's part of my job."

Y/N crossed her arms, annoyed. Mainly because she knew he was right but at the same time she was furious because she couldn't control what she felt.

"Fine, Sehun, as you wish."

She heard him chuckle once more and glared at him, he was angry and hurt.

"You knew all this when you started dating me, if you can't control your jealousy then you shouldn't be with me." he spoke firmly, she stared at him a little surprised. "Don't try to be the controlling girlfriend with me because you know it won't work out."

Y/N felt her heart sink, he was serious. She didn't want him to misunderstand but the intonation in her voice sure made him understand what she didn't want.

"Sehu, I-" she tried to get up from the couch but he turned and stormed out of the house. "Sehun!" she called but the door had already been slammed, leaving only the trail of his perfume.

She felt the tears come and she collapsed on the couch anyway, feeling like an idiot.

Vivi laid it head in Y/N's lap as if to comfort her and she actually cried, stroking the pet's fur.

"I’m a fool." she told Vivi.

She was afraid that Sehun didn't want her anymore, and a good part of her was saying that he wouldn't be wrong.

Y/N stayed the whole time with Vivi, crying and wiping away her tears as if somehow making her forget the tightness in her heart.

She didn't even notice the time running.

When she heard the door open, she saw the time on the phone and when she realized that Sehun had arrived exactly at the time he said, she felt bad.

She figured he would come back much later on purpose, she knew the boyfriend and when he was mad all he did was be alone.

That's why she got up from the couch, with a headache from crying so much, and grabbed her bag without saying anything even though she felt Sehun's eyes on her.

With her head down, she prepared to leave but Sehun stopped her when she passed beside him, holding her lightly by the arm.

Y/N took a deep breath before looking up at him.

Neither of them said anything for a while, they just stared at each other trying to find the right words.

"I'm sorry." he said and she swallowed, not wanting to cry again.

"You're right, I don't have the right to control your life." she shrugged, looking away.

"No, I was wrong. It's unfair that I don't spend more time with you."

Y/N smiled sadly.

"It's your job, Sehun."

He took the opportunity to touch her chin, making her look at him again.

"And it's my obligation as a boyfriend to make time for you."

Sehun caressed Y/N's swollen face with a furrowed brow, he was analyzing her because he knew she had been crying.

And then he hugged her tightly, enveloping her whole body as if he would make her disappear in that embrace.

Y/N felt welcomed, loved, it was enough to sniff against his chest.

"No matter what they've scheduled for me, next month we're going on a trip." Sehun kissed the top of her head, and she smiled widely. "Just me and you."

Y/N liked this plan much better.

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires- Part 7

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 1193

Masterlist

If we were near your apartment, we'd probably end up at Starbucks.

Luckily we're on my turf. I'm not going to take you to that overpriced coffeeshop for hipsters and people without taste; I'm taking you to get real coffee, at my favorite café just down the road from Mooney's.

You walk beside me and you don't ask where we're going. I like that. You trust that wherever I'm taking you, you'll like it. Instead you chat idly about your week (which was busy) and ask me about mine (it was slow).

I ask you where you work. You tell me you're a copywriter at an online marketing agency. This surprises me.

“Marketing? Did you always want to do that?”

“No,” you say. “I always wanted to be an author. But you know what they say about writers who can't write.”

I actually don't. I tell you as much.

“We always end up in marketing.”

I think you're being too hard on yourself. I'm sure you're better at writing than you give yourself credit for. Then again, I haven't read anything you've written and I don't want to make assumptions. You might be horrible.

“What about you?” you ask. “Did you always want to work at a bookstore?”

“I don't know. I've worked at Mooney's since I was fifteen. The guy who owns it sort of took me in,” I explain, and clear my throat. “I've never really felt like a career change.”

“Did you go to college?” you ask.

I make a face, because I don't know how you feel about this subject. Finally, I shake my head.

“I hated school,” you say. “I can't learn that way. I've been much happier since I started working.”

“Did you become a copywriter right away?”

“God, no.” You laugh. “I was a TA for the longest time. Then I worked the lunch shift at this small restaurant. I loved that. Copywriting is kind of a recent development.”

I want to ask more questions, but we've arrived at the café. It’s a little joint with the same vibe as Mooney's: old, dusty, quiet. Old records line the walls here. On slow days, you're allowed to pick one and play it on the record player they have, but it's kind of busy today. We pick a table by the window and we order our coffees.

“I can believe that.”

You order yours with milk, no sugar. I order mine black. You tell me you used to drink black coffee until you moved to New York, but "the coffee is different here.”

You take a moment to look out the window, and I take that moment to look at you. I think that was your intention, because when you notice me staring you meet my eyes, and stare back. Most girls would have blushed and looked away.

“Tell me something about yourself, Joe,” you say. “I feel like I barely know you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“What's your favorite book?”

I hiss playfully.

“You can't make me choose.”

You laugh at this, and I take a moment to think.

“There's a few,” I finally tell you. “Right now it's Frankenstein, I think.”

“That's... a choice,” you say.

I raise an eyebrow.

“How do you figure that?”

You fumble. I wonder if you said it just to say it - lots of people do that, when it comes to books - but then you shake your head.

“Well, that book, it's… Frankenstein creates this living, breathing person, and then he completely disregards it. Him. The book's about bad parenting, really.”

Did you have bad parents, (Y/n)? Is that why you moved all the way to New York?

“I didn't say I like Frankenstein himself,” I say. “I just said I like the book.”

“I'll be honest: I've read Frankenstein, but I remember the introduction better than the actual story.” You pause. “The classics aren't really my thing. Well, that's not true. I like some of them. I just don't find them automatically better than any other books.”

“You don't have to.”

You take a sip of your coffee, which has just been set down, and then suck in some air when you realize it's too hot. I chuckle, and you fake a glare.

“Now you tell me something about you,” I say.

“Like what?” you ask.

“I don't know.”

“Okay, well. I have an unhealthy obsession with serial killers.”

“Ah,” I say. “You're one of those people.”

“Well, don't say it like that.” You won’t meet my eyes now. “I just find it interesting, how the human mind can turn out like that. How do they kill so many people and still sleep at night?”

“Maybe they know the world is better off without those people in it.”

You look at me.

“Who are they to decide, though?”

I like it when you look me in the eyes, even if it's because you're challenging me. I don't want you to look away.

I wonder if you'd look at me this way during sex. I'm sure you would. You'd refuse to break eye contact first. But eventually you'd cave. You'd have to.

“I'm reading this book right now,” you say.

“Under the banner of heaven.”

Oh, no.

I've messed up. You're looking at me all wrong, and why wouldn't you? I'm not supposed to know what you're reading. You didn't buy that book at Mooney's. You must have bought it somewhere else, or ordered it online, but you didn't get it from me.

I have to bluff my way through this.

“You told me,” I say.

“Right…” you swallow, then shake it off. “Well, it's about these guys who murdered their brother's wife, and the baby, too. They thought God told them to, or something. They were Mormons. How do you ever get to that point? That you'd murder a baby and call it God's will?”

“I don't know,” I admit. “Some people are just bad people, I guess.”

But you shake your head. You don't want to believe in the worst the world has to offer.

“There has to be a reason,” you say. “Nobody is born bad.”

“Maybe not,” I concede.

“Sorry. I'm boring you.”

Not at all.

“A little bit. I mean, no,” I say, shaking my head. “What I mean is, I don't know that I agree with you, fully.”

“About people not being born bad?”

“Some people are just pure evil,” I say. “And it's only getting worse, you know. These days, it's way too easy for everybody to make themselves into the main character of their story. It breeds selfishness. That's why I hate social media.”

“I noticed I couldn't find you,” you tell me. “And I looked pretty hard.”

You looked for me!

“I looked for you on Instagram,” I admit. “But your account is private, and I didn't want to make one of my own just to follow you.”

“Stalker,” you tease. “Both of us. We're a couple of regular old stalkers.”

“Can't be too careful,” I say.

“No, you can't,” you agree. “Anyone could be a weirdo.”

“Or a serial killer.”

“Well, that's okay,” you say. “I like those.”