#don't be too harsh on yourself dear

[elijowa]

"Is he flirting with me? Wow, I can't believe he's flirting with me. But OK! I can run with that. I should say something flirty back to - oh. Oh. He was talking about the - yeah, that makes more sense, he was talking about the stars. Can't believe I thought he might have been flirting with me. Can't believe I even entertained that as a possibility. What an idiot. Why would an angel like him even notice a cherub like me? Stupid, stupid ..."

GOOD OMENS (2019-)

2x01 - The Arrival

[godjustkys]

THEME: it's just hate sex with dean..

CHARACTER: male reader x dean winchester

NOTE: as promised, dean winchester one shot. also!! requests are open.

WARNING: breeding kink,, clothed sex,, dirty talk,, degradation,, slight dacryphilia,, hair pulling,, short and not proof-read :(

“..hhhfuck—” dean breathed out lowly, grasping onto the table's edge for dear life. his back was arched slightly, forehead pressed against the wooden surface itself.

dean was bent over a table, and you were fucking him from behind. your hands holding his hips firmly, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. sure, it was stable, but it wasn't fast enough for dean. he wanted you to be rougher. “Don't be a bitch, dean.” you cooed gently, pushing one hand up dean's spine, the action more sensual than anything. “let me hear you.” in response, the other just gritted his teeth, letting out a small frustrated groan. how could he let this happen? he hated you, he hated every single bone of your body.

“you- fuck like a virgin.” dean mumbled out, his tone bitter. “this your first time? you experimenting, huh?” he quipped, lifting his head up and turning it to the side, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You let out an amused scoff in response, suddenly pushing your hips forward, the action harsh and quick. it made dean stumble, knees buckling for a moment, his grip on the edge tightening. he turned his head away immediately clenching his jaw.

“don't try to taunt me, dean. you're the one taking my cock like a damn slut right now. i can feel you clenching around me,” you spoke, leaning forward, your chest just above his back. “shh-shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch—” dean responded with a strained voice, his face twitching in annoyance. or maybe from the fact that he was holding back so many sounds. he pretended like he didn't like what you said, but god, he only got harder. his abdomen tensed too. fuck. “listen to yourself right now..” you muttered, your lips right next to his ear. “the little gasps? yeah, you love this,” your tone took a more confident edge.

dean hadn't even realized that he was gasping, letting out soft breaths that soon evolved to pants. “Mmhhm—” he let out an agitated groan that turned into a humourless chuckle. “you- keep telling yourself that-” he choked out. “oh, I don't need to. you think I would've been able to get you into this position if you didn't want it? aren't you a big, strong hunter?” you teased, moving one hand to the back of his neck. soon enough, you gripped his hair, pulling his head back. “so, tell me,” you urged him, pressing a kiss to his throat. “tell me how much you want this. how much you want my cock, how good you feel right now.”

dean kept quiet, his breathing laboured and heavy. his eyes fluttered shut as you continued kissing his throat, eyebrows stitched together. “go to hell.” he spoke as he tried to squirm out of your grip. “no, no dean,” you pressed gentle kisses against his skin again, making your way from his throat to the nape of his neck, letting go of his messy hair. “not what i asked for,” the moment you said the word 'asked' you thrusted in deeper, as if enunciating your point, making dean squirm even more. “but I'll let it slide.” you breathed out, eyes boring into the back of his head.

“shhh..shit. fuck fuck fuck-” dean groaned out, his eyes screwed shut. “you're a bastard-” he said before letting out a mewl, of all things. you let out a small chuckle, letting your pace increase - you couldn't torture dean for long, you were starting to feel bad with all his jittery squirming. “mhm? what else?” you inquired softly, so innocently, as if you weren't pounding him from the back. dean could take this, of course he could. But then, both of your hands moved back to dean's hips, grip firm, as you pulled him against you. essentially, making his ass meet your pelvis.

“hhn!” he gritted out, his fingers curling up around the edge of the table. “d- don't you manhandle me.” he protested weakly, his thighs tensing and hips stuttering. “that's not manhandling, dean. d'you want me to, though?” you asked gently, keeping your pace steady. of course, no response from the man under you. he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't curious as to what manhandling felt like, but he didn't have it in him to ask for that. let alone from you, someone he loathed. he's chastising himself for even letting this happen. his pride - wounded.

as dean continued his silent treatment of sorts, you decided for him. why the fuck not? gotta have some fun in a way, right? you pulled out, only momentarily, as you flipped dean over to his back with ease, earning a small, barely even audible yelp from the hunter. you pushed your way back in with slight resistance, dean's abdomen tensing as you did, his hands scrambling to grasp at something. well shit, his hands couldn't reach the table's edge anymore. and reaching for the edge above him would be uncomfortable. you noted his actions, realising immediately that he didn't want to touch you.

“damn, not even gonna put your hands on me?” you asked with a slightly offended tone, shifting on your feet to find a better, more comfortable angle. “c'mon..” you groaned out, one hand gripping dean's still clothed thigh, the other moving up to grip his jaw. “you want to, right? fuck your ego, dean. just do it.” you urged, your face so close to his. his vision was slightly unfocused, his toes curling just a bit. the thought was so tempting. his mind was starting to get lost in the pleasure you were providing, his skin tingling under your touch. “ain't happening.” he managed weakly, his face a.. a scowl? seriously?

“what a bitch,” you muttered in disbelief. “i've already got you where I wanted to, what's the point of giving me attitude, hm?” you pressed, the sound of your (unbuckled) belt buckle getting progressively louder due to your thrusts getting deeper. the slick sound of your cock going in and out of dean's hole progressing in volume, too. dean almost bit his tongue while trying to contain his noises. he wasn't going to give it to you. “baby, you've gotta be more compliant than that..” you cooed gently, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips that dean didn't return. he wanted to. fuck you were so hot. soft groans escaped his throat, his lips pressed to a thin line as his hands gripped at literally nothing.

“how 'bout we make a deal, hm?” you suggested suddenly, your thrusts slowing down but not stopping. that grabbed dean's interest. “you stop holding back.. and I won't mention this, ever again.” he shot you a skeptical look. you? not talking about this? what a joke. “i promise.” you added, your tone almost pleading. “i just gotta know how good I make you feel. that's enough for me.” you breathed out, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the skin of his thigh. “i'll kill you- if- if you don't keep that stupid promise.” dean threatened, albeit with a shaky voice. he was far too easy to deal with.

finally, after what seemed an eternity, one of dean's hands found their way to your shoulder, the other reaching to hold onto your waist - or more so your shirt. due to his newfound compliance, you could give it your all without him trying to hold back. you pushed your cock all the way in, because you hadn't yet. safe to say that the man you were currently fucking the living daylight out of didn't know you weren't bottoming out. “Ah!- motherfuckerrrr-- mmhh—” he whimpered out in a broken voice, his hand moving from your shoulder to the side of your neck. his face was scrunched up, eyes shut tightly.

what heavenly sounds. you let a smile creep up onto your face as you kissed him, passionately, this time dean reciprocating the kiss even if he was a bit late. he let out deep grunts every time you thrusted in, your mouth just devouring the damned sounds. you didn't waste a second, pushing your tongue into his mouth and swirling it against his. dean's breath stuttered, almost feeling overwhelmed, his thighs aching beyond belief. when you pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, dean spoke up. “are you fucking trying to suck out my soul?” he seethed, panting heavily.

“somethin' like that, yeah.” you breathed out, your eyes locked onto his neck as your hand that was on his jaw just ran over his torso. eventually, it ended up at the hem of his shirt. you simply pushed the shirt up to his collarbone, dean's facial expression shifting to a more confused one. the moment your mouth landed on his nipple, he forced himself to hold in a girlish shriek. he wasn't used to his nipples being played with. both of the latter's hands gripped at your hair, in an attempt to ground himself but also pull you away if needed. “wh- what the fuck, man?” dean got out, his voice strained, maybe a pitch higher.

the sensation of you sucking on his nipple and pounding into him ruthlessly made him let out continuous moans, his voice breaking more with each other. eventually, he let out a sob, his fingers tightening in your hair, the stinging pain making you groan against dean's skin. you could feel his thighs trembling against your pelvis. you didn't stop though, as dean made no protest. but what you took notice of was his whiny moan of your name. it made your gaze shift to his face. god, it made you wish you had a camera just to take a photo and hang it on your wall. his eyes welled up with tears, just barely, his mouth agape, drool on the corners of his lips, all pretty, just for you. you trailed up kisses from his chest to his face, the action more gentle than you anticipated but oh well. “fuck, you're such a slut.” you mumbled against his cheek, your eyes closed as you got lost on the bliss that were dean's sounds, his hopeless squirming and trembling. “takin' me so well, like you were made for this.” you continued. “were you?” you inquired, your tone too sweet compared to your words.

a fucking whimper was what you got in response, his hips shamelessly rocking against yours, as if seeking friction. he wasn't getting enough? “you tryna get off, huh?” you leaned back up, gazing down at him. “ugh, I wanna breed you.” you rasped out, too lost in your own fantasies. “just imagine it, me filling you up, to the brim. with my cum. mine.” dean's face contorted an almost concerned facial expression. the worst thing was was that he didn't even hate what you said, he wasn't against it. he might've actually liked it. he pulled you down as his hands remained in your hair, still, his mouth latching onto your neck as he sucked hickeys onto your skin. you hummed out a sound in response, twitching inside dean. he only continued making sounds against your skin. he seemed desperate to have some sense of control.

dean kept his head buried into your shoulder, as the numerous and various moans, whines and whimpers escaped his lips. he was trying so hard to catch his breath, his thighs tensing around your waist. “who knew such a deep voiced hunter would make such girlish moans?” you teased mindlessly, your only focus now to just breed the fuck outta him. it was at this point that dean didn't even bother responding, frantically holding you close, his hands trembling. oh god you were too much. not that he'd admit that. the more you continued thrusting into him, the more he cried out. yes, cried. sure, tears weren't rolling down his face, but they were there, you knew they were. you could recognise it, the way his voice got high pitched and so eager.

eventually, the overwhelming heat that was pooling in your lower stomach was getting even stronger, and you were close. not even warning dean, you gave harsh thrusts, the other's body twitching helplessly in response as he gasped. you came inside with a groan, your hands holding dean's waist so severel that it might've even left bruises. dean let out a sharp hiss before it turned into a mewl, once again, and he couldn't help but get even more turned on by the liquid that was inside of him. he came, untouched, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as his blunt nails dug into your shirt. he was sweating, his head lowered.

“this ain't 'nough.” you mumbled weakly, starting to move again. goddamn it, dean was in for a night.

[poisoned-fruit-prose]

𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥.

synop: viktor is upset with you. the walls are closing in on your identity. you have nowhere to turn but away.

wc: 2.4k.

request from anon: Your Viktor X mage reader is so GOOD!!! It made me so happy considering that my oc is a mage and works with Viktor and Jayce! If you have time, could you maybe write something in the same scenario (reader being a mage, working with the boys on Hextech + dating Viktor) but where the reader had been hiding that they're a mage and now they have to confess it to the boys and explain why they understand the arcane so unusually well? So sorry if this is worded badly, and if you don't want to write it that's perfectly fine! Have a great day/night!! -🦖

includes: hurt/comfort. happy (?) ending.

author's note: i do apologize that i couldn't fit jayce into here, but i think we all know he'd just wag his tail and perk his ears up and love you all the same. (...puppy-coded jayce x reader fic, anyone?)

“It’s almost as if you already know how this all works.”

Viktor’s words made you freeze.

Hextech was beginning to reek with magic. There were jumps in logic that were far too great for science; it was you, mucking up information, crafting runes, testing things that made no sense to a non-magical mind, one that didn’t possess your internal compass. Viktor and Jayce were along for the ride at the beginning, but the explosive success of the Hexgates and the novelty of the technology’s potential was fading into careful study—a form of work that would expose your abilities and leave you vulnerable to accusations like Viktor’s.

But you didn’t already know how it all worked. Magic was an unknowable thing; it was a plane above you, surging through you in ways you’d never fully understand, not within your lifetime. You were working merely off these fleeting moments where magic, instead of your mind or even your heart, guided you. Magic told you where to step—it didn’t tell you why, it didn’t bother to explain, and it most certainly didn’t care how it appeared to the rest of the world.

It was only a matter of time before your “genius” was seen more as prescience. You no longer had a simple knack for the arcane. You were now a hostile guard of secrets that would otherwise better the world. It just broke your heart that it was Viktor who saw through it first. That he’d have to be the first to be bear your burden.

His words bit with little subtlety. It was late. Desk lamps glowed a harsh white, washing out his already pallor skin and exacerbating the bags hanging beneath his eyes. You didn’t know if he already suspected your abilities, but you now knew he most certainly noticed how you stumbled through every technicality yet were still, always, ten steps ahead of him.

Maybe it was jealousy, maybe it was sleep deprivation, maybe you were looking too far into it all. But you could only respond with nothing. Your mouth hung agape for a moment before snapping shut. You fled the lab. He didn’t follow.

You retreated to the university’s sprawling library; it was too cold for the garden and too late for anywhere else. You buried yourself in books and words when the world became unbearable but, tonight, fatigue and despair clouded your ability to focus. You found yourself crying in a study nook instead.

Somehow, in your attempt to protect the one you loved most, you found yourself driving a wedge between you instead. It sickened you.

“My, this isn’t what the library is for!”

You weren't sure how much time had passed before Heimerdinger’s cheerful voice chirped out beside your chair; a moment later, you heard him scuttle into the chaise beside you. You didn’t bother to look.

“Whatever is the matter, dear?”

You took a shaky breath as more tears escaped you. The Yordle clicked his tongue and reached into his coat pocket. After retrieving the handkerchief folded neatly inside, he reached out and passed it to you. You gave him a grateful look as you used it to dry your face.

You sniffled. He waited patiently.

“I… I fear I may not be able to work on Hextech anymore.”

“Oh, my—I understand your upset now. Why do you think that?”

“I just…” Your breath fluttered. “I think I’m causing an impasse. And I would rather Viktor and Jayce work on it alone instead of it being abandoned altogether.”

“You three are inseparable,” Heimerdinger insisted. “What in the world could you be doing that would call for such a drastic measure?”

You sobbed. “I… I can’t explain.”

“Surely it’s not your relationship with Viktor.”

“No, absolutely not,” you insisted firmly. “This… This would be a decision I’d make to save that. He and Hextech mean more to me than anything. Even my own participation.”

A quiet fell over you two—not uncomfortable, yet not devoid of thought either.

“...May I be honest with you, my dear?”

You nodded, finally looking over at him.

“I know you’re a mage.”

The blood drained from your body and the world shuddered upside down. You gaped at him in dread. The Yordle merely chuckled.

“Don’t be so worried—if I believed you were a threat, I would’ve turned you in long ago. But I have no reason to, nor any desire to.”

You allowed yourself to calm. A Council Member knowing was the worst possible scenario—but Heimerdinger had a soft spot for you in addition to thousands of years of experience. Fate graced you, of all people in all possible times, with magic. You were benevolent, incredibly sharp, and ambitious—and if there was anyone the Yordle believed should wield the arcane, it would be someone like you.

“...How did you find out?”

“Viktor and Jayce are not the only ones who have noticed the leaps you make in your studies.”

You nodded weakly. “...What’s going to happen to me?”

“Nothing at all, dear. I’ll admit, I was quite fearful when I put the pieces together. After all, magic is a very dangerous thing—even an inexperienced or feeble mage holds far more power than any non-user. Yet I cannot deny the work you have done for the world through Hextech. You have proven your worth, your passion, and your goodness. I don’t believe the public should know you’re a mage, for obvious reasons, but I do believe you have a duty to continue your research. Your abilities give you an invaluable advantage.”

You sniffled. “But Viktor… I fear he’s building up resentment because of that. I can’t… I can’t keep doing that to him, sir.”

“I have lived a very, very long life—trust me when I say a relationship such as yours is a true marvel. His resentment is understandable, but it is a drop of water in the ocean of adoration he has for you. Severing your ties to Hextech will only summon a storm. You must tell him the truth.”

“What if he hates me for it?”

“My dear, he leaves the lab when you merely ask him to. He’s going to marry you.”

You were exhausted, but you still ran back to the lab. The moon yawned from behind the windows over an empty chair and a desk in disarray. Viktor was upset with you, so you knew he wouldn’t be home—which left a single place he could possibly be.

Viktor sat on the ledge of the maintenance shaft. His eyes hung heavy but his mind whirred as he played the way you left the lab, defeated, over and over against his skull. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. You were the love of his life, his irreplaceable partner in Hextech, and his closest friend. He had frustrations, naturally, but he allowed them to escape their leash and lash out at you. Then, once they had finished with you, they turned and began to gnaw on him.

Your hand was warm on his shoulder. He knew it was you immediately. He turned to meet your gaze, expression somber, hand jumping to yours.

“Miláčku,” he breathed, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured as you settled beside him. You squeezed his hand, rested your head on his shoulder. A wave of relief washed over him. “I’m sorry too.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“No, I have. I’ve been keeping something important from you.”

You opened your free hand. A single rune nestled in your palm. Viktor gave you a confused look.

“A rune? I don’t understand—”

Without so much as the utterance of a word, the wave of a gesture, or any visible exertion of effort whatsoever, the stone began to glow a familiar blue as it lifted itself from your skin. It levitated, revolving slowly, as Viktor finally grasped what was happening.

“...You’re a mage,” he whispered. The truth shifted the air. You nodded as your hand began to shake. Your fear cleaved your connection with the arcane and the rune fell, lifeless, back into your hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His words were clipped. Panic made you defensive. Disagreements were common in science, but you and Viktor rarely had them outside the lab doors. The irregularity of this, compounded with the danger of magic and fatigue, made you both a little more upset than you should’ve been.

“If it wasn’t obvious, my kind isn’t exactly skipping through meadows hand-in-hand with non-users, Viktor.”

“The three of us are trying to change the world’s view on magic. You should’ve told Jayce and I much sooner—think of what we could’ve done if we knew this!"

Your head ripped off his shoulder to glare at him. “Telling you would’ve done nothing but put you in danger!”

“We could’ve made progress ten times faster!”

"This isn't about morals or philosophy, Viktor—this is life and death! That progress would be meaningless if it meant I had even a chance of losing you!"

Viktor always feared if he did not charge forward with perfect efficiency he would wither away, his life unimportant and impactless. But your words rung out in the night, struck Viktor and resonated through his body. Instantaneously, his world shifted. He saw the way you regarded him, how you held him as the pinnacle of your life. Even above Hextech. Above progress. You were scared. You cared about Hextech just as greatly as him; but what terrified you enough to conceal a crucial face of your own identity, to endure his acerbic comments, to consider abandoning your greatest passion, was not the discovery of your abilities or the destruction of your work.

It was the potential loss of him that came with it.

He finally understood. He saw the world through your eyes. He had been picking evolution over you, chasing importance and impact when he already had it cradled in his hands. He had become spiteful of the person he loved most dearly because you were making more progress. In that moment, he chose the path of his life.

He chose you. For what was progress to an empty man?

“...You would be worth dying for.”

The softness of Viktor’s voice made the anger in your shoulders and face immediately fall away; the actual statement made your heart tear apart. He would keep your secret even if it meant death upon discovery. He would forever share your burden.

You both immediately reached for each other. Viktor's hands took your face, pulling you to him with urgency as he kissed you fiercely. Your hands immediately ran up his chest, the sides of his neck, into the short hair at the nape, then fully into his locks. He snaked an arm around your middle to pull you flush against him; the mention of death only served to burn this moment in his memory. Should the worst happen, should you get caught and he lost you, he’d always remember the way your skin felt against his, how you kissed him like he mattered, how you felt like a well-loved puzzle piece against his own. There was no knowing where he ended and you began, and it terrified him how much he loved it, how he squeezed you closer to exacerbate it.

You only parted when your lungs burned. Panting, you shared breaths and atoms. Viktor bumped his forehead against yours and looked up at you with that gorgeous amber gaze. You were tearing up.

"I meant it," he murmured. Hands still on your cheeks, he thumbed the corners of your eyes, wanting to take the pain before it even started. He held you with more care than his runes, his inventions, his life's work. He held you in the way a priest cradled his scripture.

“Please don’t go doing that,” you murmured.

“Only if you don’t either.”

"I promise."

A quiet tension still scintillated in the air. “...I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. And for the back-handed comments. And accusing you of slowing down our progress.”

You couldn't help but laugh softly. “With a rap sheet like that I should quit anyways.”

“...You were going to quit?”

“Vik, I… The danger of being a mage—you were days from finding out. You were frustrated all the time and I was only dividing us further.”

“No, no more thinking like that.” He grabbed your arms, squeezed them. “You were not the reason for any of this. Hextech is our life’s work, and I can only hope that we continue on it until we die hunched over our papers; but I would give it all up to keep you at my side.”

“You don’t mean that, V.”

“What in the world makes you believe I don’t?” he asked incredulously, leaning in to catch your eyes again. His expression was earnest, adoring, nearly puppy-like from the sheer intensity of his concern.

“I—that’s just a very romantic statement.”

“You believe I’d die for you, but not that I’d give up Hextech for you? Surely you aren’t jealous of our creation.”

A beat. You both smiled. The tension broke with it, and the two of you devolved into laughter. The sound of it made Viktor’s heart just soar. The catharsis of an invention that finally worked, finishing a long book, understanding some complex idea—none of it compared to the way your voice rang out like bells when he made you laugh. Viktor nuzzled his nose beside yours. You reached up, thumbing his bottom lip.

“I'm not jealous. I just know neither of us could survive without Hextech in our lives.”

“Mm, I'm sure we’d find a way to pass the time.”

Viktor closed the gap between your lips again. You both smiled, kissing each other sleepily, unaware of just how prescient your words knelled.

dividers used: sparkles • star

[itheunknown]

odi et amo - (00) prologue

negelected! meta! reader x platonic! batfam masterlist / next

maybe you deserve this.

maybe you deserve every bad thing that's happened to you.

your aunt was right, bad kids don't get to be happy.

maybe it was your fault.

you never knew your parents. all you were told was that you were a product of a "fling", a mistake, you weren't supposed to be. your mother passed during childbirth, your dad has never been in the picture - so it was up to your aunt to take on that burden.

she believed it should have been you that died in that delivery room, you believe it too.

you grew up without a proper parental figure, without love, never knowing what it's like to be wanted. you were wrong to seek it from your aunt, but you don't really resent her for that - your mother was her only family left, and her dear sister was taken away by your very own existence.

maybe you deserve this.

you would eventually get used to growing up without love, expectations would only lead to disappointment.

you weren't disappointed when your aunt was harsh to you.

you weren't disappointed when she turned to alcoholsim to cope.

you weren't disappointed when you had to practically raise yourself and look after her.

and you certainly weren't disappointed when she full sped into a tree, instantly killing her.

you can't. you deserve this.

now, as you sit in the station, ringing in your ears, your injuries nursed as you unfortunately survived, is when you finally know the identity of your father:

bruce. fucking. wayne.

you should have died with your aunt.

digital footprint about to be crazy... forgive me for any grammatical mistakes or typos!! i am so bad at public speaking letmeknowifthisisadequeteiguess...

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: *looking at Ortho with serene eyes*

Ortho: ...

Ortho: Is there something on my face?

MC: *smiles* Nothing. By the way, what were you saying about Idia?

Ortho: *giggles* It’s about the joint field trip between Night Raven College and Royal Sword Academy. Attendance is mandatory for all of us, but my brother is doing his best to convince the headmage to let him skip the event.

MC: Are you hoping I might be able to change his mind?

Ortho: You always catch him off guard. If I could make a suggestion, I’d recommend scaring him—startling him or something—so he won’t decide to stay behind.

MC: *chuckles* Aren't you being a little too harsh on your brother?

Ortho: *sad smile* He thinks that online games and fictional stories are enough to keep him entertained. I just want him to experience life like any other normal teenager.

MC: What about you, Ortho?

Ortho: Yes?

MC: I understand that you're concerned about Idia's well-being, but keep in mind that he might be feeling the same way. He wants you to enjoy your teenage years too.

Ortho: Haha! I'm a humanoid! I don’t age like humans do, so the idea of spending my "teenage years" has never crossed my mind. Besides, I’m programmed to serve Idia.

MC: ...

MC: Him and his soul… they're contradicting.

MC: ...

MC: *smiles* I'll do my best to make sure that Idia joins this event.

Ortho: *giggles* Thank you, MC!

Azul: I know exactly how to persuade Idia!

Jade: Please don't fall for his scheme. *teasing smirk*

Azul: Don't pay attention to Jade; he enjoys tarnishing my name at every chance he gets.

Floyd: I'll do it, Seashell-chan~.

MC: Coercion is not an option.

Floyd: Aww...

Azul: Just bribe him with cats, and he'll eventually give in.

MC: *smiles* I'll take care of that. Thank you for your assistance, Azul.

Azul: Oh, before you express your thanks, I have a favor to ask.

Jade: Scheme.

Azul: It's not. Anyway, I would like to ask if you would be kind enough to sign a few photocards of yourself from the last SDC competition.

Jade: See? He's profiting off you, MC.

Azul: I swear, Jade, if you don't shut up-

Malleus: Is it alright to bother you, dear?

MC: *smiles* Of course, Dada.

Malleus: How is your investigation regarding the young Shroud?

MC: ...

MC: The Ortho Shroud I spoke with doesn't seem to be aware of the human soul within him.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: Do you consider this a problem?

MC: ...

MC: I’m not sure, Dada, but I really hope it’s not.

Idia: What's this?

Idia: *has found a slight abnormality in Ortho's system*

Idia: Do you feel anything unusual, Ortho?

Ortho: I might need a system update, but it doesn’t seem urgent.

Idia: I can work on it now-

Ortho: No! You'll just use that as an excuse to skip this field trip!

Idia: No... Yeah, you're right.

Ortho: *sigh*

Ortho: This is a minor issue, and I can resolve it myself.

Idia: Fiiinee...

'Have you... forgotten about me, Idy?'

[chuulyssa]

​🇭​​ 🇴 ​​🇲 ​​🇪​​ 🇼​​ 🇴 ​​🇷 ​​🇰​ .

ʟɪɢʜᴛ ʏᴀɢᴀᴍɪ !

↷ A/N ─ the long-awaited full ver of this drabble is here! will proofread this tomorrow oml it's 3am here again

★ COUNT ─ 1.3k

!! TAGS ─ light x reader, pre-kira!light, gn!reader, oral (m receiving), deep throating, slight (?) exhibitionism

★ PROLOGUE ─ giving your boyfriend head under the desk while he studies

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

The two of you were walking back home after school, neither of you speaking a word as you went on in silence. It was like a silent agreement that you would go to his house today instead of yours. After all, pissed as you were, academic stress did not help in uplifting your mood. Luckily, you knew just the way to relieve your worries while also getting your assignments done - and so did Light.

"Hello, dear," his mother greeted you warmly. "I assume he's tutoring you again? I sure hope he isn't too harsh on you."

"It's alright, Mrs Yagami," you smiled back at her, inwardly elated at the fact that some day the title you called her would belong to you.

"I don't understand, dear," she continued, "why do you need tutions from him in the first place? I mean, you do quite well as it is."

"I don't mind it," Light interrupted her before going up to his room.

You took off your shoes and shot her another kind smile before following your boyfriend. Behind you, you could hear Mrs Yagami mumble, "Kids these days."

The door shut behind you. Light immediately kept his bag in a corner and sat down on his chair. You looked at him with a bored expression.

"Already? You're not taking the 'tutoring' part seriously, now, are you?"

"Well, I have to," he said, taking out his Maths notebook and pen. "Your mother-in-law has entrusted me with this task."

You rolled your eyes.

"I don't study."

"I do," he shrugged. "And so, you must too."

"Nah," you flopped on his bed in a starfish position. "I'm going to catch some sleep."

"No, you aren't," Light said firmly and got up to hold you by your arms. He dragged you towards the table, pulling out a chair for you to sit near the desk so that you could keep up with his lessons.

"I'm not studying with you," you scoffed.

Light stared at you for some time before muttering, "Fine. You know what? Fine. Go to hell."

You chuckled and he shot you a petty glare. Opening his notebook, he started solving questions rapidly, not sparing you even a single glance and pretending as if you were as good as part of the wall.

You sat there doodling on a spare book you found. Your chin was on the table, and you were rethinking your decision to come to his house. With a sigh, you realized that you'd have been sleeping soundly in your cozy bed right now had you gone to your own house.

After a few minutes, you saw Light's pen slow down a little and an irritable look on his face.

"Y/N, look, if you can't make yourself useful, then you might as well go home. Seriously."

"What?"

"I said go home."

You blinked in confusion. Useful? Like how? You looked out of the window thinking of excuses to stay in his room. It may not have occurred to you then, but you really did want to stay in his company after all.

And then you got a brilliant idea. Of course! It'd help both you and him destress, and probably leave him flustered enough to do your homework as well. You could-

"Give you a blowjob," you repeated your suggestion to him while he looked at you with wide eyes.

"...Y/N-"

But you cut him off by pushing the chair you were sitting on away and dropping to your knees. He looked at you with a bewildered expression as you fumbled with his belt, desperate to free his obviously strained erection.

"Really, now?" you said in a mocking tone. "Already? I didn't even do anything yet!"

"Well, if you're gonna sit there looking like that, this is bound to happen."

"You could've been subtle about it though," you pushed the chair away to get a clear view and comfortable access to his cock.

"Wait, you're serious about this?"

"Um, yeah?"

"But what if someone heard us?" He protested. "My parents are down there. Heck, Sayu is down there! This is not a sound proof room, we're gonna get c- ah!"

You cut him off with a little lick to the top of his cock. With your right hand you gripped his base and lowered yourself to him.

"Say it again," you said with an amused smile on your face, lips pressed against his dick. "Let me hear your pretty voice."

He was silent for a moment. Then, he slowly reached out to dig his fingers inside your hair giving you the consent you were looking for.

"Thats a good boy," you whispered, making him shiver as your warm breath breezed his cock.

Your grip on his dick tightened ever so slightly as you got ready to suck him. His fingers were tangled in your hair while his other hand tried it's best to solve the math equations for his assignments.

You licked the tip again. Light's hips jerked upwards but you pushed him down with all your might.

"Stop teasing," he breathed, looking away as if to hide his fluster.

You rolled your eyes before finally taking him, inch by inch, inside your mouth. You felt your lips stretching to accommodate his thick dick. It was an uncomfortable experience, but the little grunts that escaped your boyfriend made it worth the pain.

As your lips hit his base, you felt your saliva drooling over his cock, and immediately lifted your head back up, just to take him entirely again.

Light groaned. You tried to smile, but your work was more important. You bobbed your head up and down his dick, occasionally tracing his balls with the tips of your fingers.

"Oh god, no, what if someone sees us," Light said between moans of pleasure. "But, baby, please don't stop now."

You lifted your head completely to look him in the eye. He whined at the lost contact, and tried to push you back.

"Did you lock the door?" You said with an annoyed huff.

"Fuck, no, let me-"

You gave his dick a few pumps to stop him.

"Too late now. I guess everyone's watching Light Yagami groan and come all over his study table."

Light widened his eyes, which was a struggle considering your soft hands manipulating his movements.

You laughed at his pathetic state before taking him in again. You bobbed your head up and down, tapping his inner thigh in a rhythm.

Under your touch, meanwhile, Light was a whimpering, moaning mess. One hand was still in your hair while the other hand completely abandoned his futile efforts of doing his assignment and now lay scratching his table.

"Oh, oh god, oh fuck, yout ake me in so well," he threw his head back with pleasure. "More, more. God, i think I'm coming already."

At this, you gave him a smug look and pushed your head down on his cock until it hit your throat. Your eyes watered, but you didn't let it ruin the moment. Light almost let out a loud cry, both his hands attempting to muffle his voice as if on cue.

You choked and gagged, while he groaned and kicked his legs in the air.

"Fuck, fuck, shit, shit, I'm coming."

Your nails dug into his thighs to form crescent moons as he emptied his cum into your throat, careful not to let any of it spill on the ground or on the chair - anywhere his mom or sister could examine and catch him red handed. After making sure to take all of it in, you finally lifted your head up, licking his entire dick in one, long stroke before licking your lips and winking at him.

Light groaned at the smirk on your face.

"You're such a bad influence. Bad influence on the perfect Light Yagami."

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

tagging: @zharickmedrano

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© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[edenesth]

The General's Wife

Pairing: military general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

Word Count: 1117 words (I'd normally put it as 1.1k but uwu)

'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series | Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho |

ATEEZ Masterlist

"Ooh, what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?"

You sighed, wondering when these men would ever learn. It wasn't your first time paying this bar a visit; they should know better by now to not mess with you.

Pushing your drink aside, you turned to look at the brave soul who was stupid enough to put his hand on your shoulder. He smirked when you remained quiet, "You're a shy one, aren't you? No worries, I can make things more fun for you."

The men around him were muttering fearfully amongst themselves, wide-eyed, "Does that fool really not have a single clue who he's dealing with?"

You shrugged off his hand and felt sorry for him, "Oh dear, I pity you." Confused, he followed your gaze as you showed him an emblem you'd pulled out from your pocket. His heart nearly stopped when he finally realised who you were.

"Y-you're... shit, you're the general's wife."

You winced, realising those might be his last words, especially when you saw your husband walking into the bar.

Seonghwa halted just behind the man, fixing an intense glare on his vulnerable back. In a voice that sent shivers down spines, he growled, "Have you grown tired of living, soldier? If you're looking for dumb ways to die, consider today your lucky day."

The man visibly trembled as he turned around slowly to face his superior, falling to his knees in fear, "G-General Park! I swear, I d-didn't know she was your wife—"

A resounding smack cut off his sentence as a powerful backhand slap connected with his face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

You gave a subtle shake of your head, silently urging Seonghwa not to escalate the situation. However, your plea proved futile as your husband, with a wink in your direction, assured you, "Don't worry, my love. I won't be too harsh on him. I'll give him just enough punishment to ensure he understands never to lay a hand on my wife again."

Despite his comforting words, you knew better than anyone those were lies. The man probably wouldn't see the light of day again. Beneath the sweet exterior he reserved for you, your husband harboured a ruthless side, a quality that propelled him quickly up the military ranks, earning him a formidable reputation.

Before becoming your husband, General Park Seonghwa was a fearsome military commander, striking fear into almost everyone. Uninterested in academics or any other pursuit, he was a natural-born warrior. At the mere age of 12, he knew he was destined to be the god of war.

However, amidst the battlefield and bloodshed, there was one thing he treasured above all else – you. His first and only love; he stumbled upon you in your backyard, clandestinely wielding your brother's sword in an attempt to learn self-defence when no one else would teach you. A noble lady yearning for more than a mundane life.

At first glance, he knew you were special.

Seonghwa vowed to make you his wife someday, and he did. Not one to follow rules, he sneaked into your backyard one day, scaring the daylights out of you. With sharp critiques, he pointed out the flaws in your stance, inadvertently teaching you enough to defend yourself.

In short, love blossomed before you discovered that he was none other than the renowned General Park, the King's most trusted warrior leading the royal army. When he sought your hand in marriage, your parents were more than delighted to see their only daughter assume the esteemed title of the general's wife.

Due to Seonghwa's crucial role in the kingdom, he frequently found himself deployed to battle whenever political tensions arose between Wonderland and neighbouring nations.

Despite his repeated warnings, you always made the journey to his war sites to be with him. During your visits, much like the current one, many of his inexperienced men, unaware of the situation, would mistake you for a lost civilian in a war zone and foolishly attempt to make advances.

Now, this unfortunate man, like those before him, would meet his end before having the chance to serve his country—all because he couldn't keep his hands to himself.

You were escorted out of the dimly lit bar before you could witness what your husband's right-hand man did to the poor bastard. Whatever it was, you knew it would be far from pretty. To distract you from the unsettling thoughts, Seonghwa wrapped his arm around you and kissed you hard.

Pressing a hand against his chest, your attempts to push him away were useless. He was well aware of your shyness, with his men watching and all, but that was his intention. He needed these fools to understand that you were his woman.

Sensing your discomfort, your husband gently cupped your cheeks, pulling back slightly to assure you, "It's alright, darling. I'm here. No one will dare touch you again. You trust me, don't you?" Without hesitation, you nodded; there was no one in the world you trusted more than him.

His heart melted at how swollen your lips looked, and he couldn't resist pressing his lips softly against yours once more.

With a self-assured smirk, he withdrew slowly, his arm securely wrapped around your waist. He turned to cast a cold gaze at the men who instantly cowered under his scrutiny, "What are you imbeciles standing around for? Don't you recognise who this is?"

They gasped and immediately straightened up, bowing deeply before offering salutes in your direction, "Welcome to the base, Lady Park!"

You acknowledged their greeting with a nod, and with an elegant wave of your hand, they finally dared to disperse. It was an unspoken rule that everyone under your husband's command had no choice but to follow. Those who defied these rules deserved nothing less than severe consequences.

As you nestled into Seonghwa's temporary quarters that night, a comforting warmth enveloped your heart as he drew you close in bed. Planting a tender kiss on your head, he asked, "My love, do you ever regret marrying me?"

Given your dislike for violence, it was truly ironic that you found yourself wed to a military general, of all people. He often wondered how a refined lady like you could fall for a man of his rough demeanour.

Before his thoughts could linger, you gently cupped his jaw, compelling him to meet your gaze, "Never. I want no one else but you." The intensity in your eyes conveyed a steadfast conviction, reminding him you were different from other women.

Indeed, you were special.

After all, you were the only woman audacious enough to capture the intimidating General Park Seonghwa's heart.

Would you believe me if I told you this man isn't my ultimate bias? Yeah, me neither. He wrecked me so bad this comeback, I'm barely recovering. Y'all stay safe tho lmfao.

Anyway, thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! As always, let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[cookiekissers]

Hi hello, could I request a malewife reader x dark cacao cookie fluff?? Your writing rocks btw 🦖🦖

[Dark Cacao Cookie x House Husband Reader]

AWWWW thanks so much!! <3

Even though the air felt calm then, snowflakes delicately danced on the frigid breeze descending from the mountains. From the tension in the air, everyone knew a harsh snowstorm was approaching. You held on to your husband's arm as you walked through the streets of the Dark Cacao Kingdom, checking in on the Cookies to ensure they were well-prepared for the coming storm. Accompanying you were Caramel Arrow Cookie and Crunchy Chip Cookie, serving as your husband's guards. Two other aides pulled a wagon filled with supplies, distributing bags of essentials to the kingdom's citizens. You gazed up at Dark Cacao's handsome, stoic face. He glanced to the hazy peaks in the distance, a line of worry etched into his dough as he gauged how much time they had before the winter storm hit.

You reached up and gently caressed his cheek with your warm hand, bringing his attention to you. With an amused smile, you brushed away some snow that had collected in his long, dark hair. Dark Cacao Cookie held your hand to his cheek, turning his head, he gave your palm a quick, reverent kiss. Snowflakes had fallen, and delicately rested on his lashes, making him even more beautiful against the stark white snow.

"Don't worry, love, we've been through worse storms. The kingdom can handle it." You said reassuringly. Dark Cacao Cookie didn't answer, but he nuzzled your hand for a moment before letting go.

"The storm is approaching. I'll have Caramel Arrow Cookie escort you back to the castle. Wait for me there," he replied. Normally, you would have insisted on staying right by your husband's side, as you were just as much a ruler of the kingdom as he was. You didn't want Dark Cacao Cookie to bear the entire burden of the kingdom alone. As his partner, you felt that the kingdom was your responsibility too, and you were determined not to let him carry it alone.

But this time, you allowed Caramel Arrow Cookie to usher you back to the castle. You turned to look behind you and saw Dark Cacao Cookie speaking with Crunchy Chip Cookie. The cream wolf captain stood to attention, and after a moment once he received his orders, hopped onto the back of his trusted wolf companion and led the cream wolf squadron to the great gates of the kingdom.

At least this gave you a chance to prepare a little surprise for your husband once he got back to the castle.

The castle servants fussed over you while preparing your surprise, insisting that you let them take care of everything for you. However, this was special, and it was something you wanted to do on your own.

You threw another cream wood log into the fireplace to ensure your shared bedchambers were toasty and warm for your husband when he returned from his duties. But you didn't stop there. You considered yourself a dedicated house husband, and for your lover, you would always go above and beyond for him. You prepped a warm meal and oven-fresh buns for the both of you, lit candles around the room, readied and pressed Dark Cacao Cookie's robes, and took care of any remaining business from the day that regarded the kingdom.

You signed and sat on the edge of the bed after finishing all your hard work. The timing was perfect as the bedroom door opened, and Dark Cacao Cookie quietly slipped inside. He removed his fur-lined cape and shook the snow off before hanging it on the wall. You stood up excitedly and scampered up to him, quickly catching him in your embrace.

"Dear, welcome home!" you said happily. Dark Cacao Cookie's dough was cold to the touch, but he seemed to melt under your warmth. His tired eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled at you. Dark Cacao held you closely in his arms, kissing your cheek affectionately.

"How did everything go?" you asked.

"All the supplies have been distributed. We'll just have to wait and see how we handle the storm when it arrives," Dark Cacao Cookie said with a weary sigh. He looked up and seemed momentarily surprised by the room before glancing back down at you.

"What's all this?" He questioned. You smirked and gave your husband a quick peck on the lips before pulling him over to the bed.

"I prepared all this for you." You said, "So you can relax with me this evening." You smiled sweetly. You picked up his robes, neatly unfolding them and handing them to Dark Cacao Cookie to put on. Your husband's brow furrowed in an all too familiar way when he was feeling guilty.

"Thank you for all this, dearest. But there's more work for-" Dark Cacao Cookie began to say but you interrupted him with a click of your tongue. You gingerly reached up, and took his crown off for him.

"Not this time. I took care of everything today, so you have no choice but to spend the evening with me." You grinned playfully. Dark Cacao Cookie smiled slightly and relaxed. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, and he kissed you deeply. Dark Cacao Cookie's still cold lips moved against your's sweetly, and when he pulled away, he sighed quietly against your shoulder.

"Thank you, my dearest." He said gratefully.

You helped your husband undress slowly. Kissing his body lovingly whenever his dark dough peeked out from behind the silky fabric. Slipping his warm, prepared robe over his shoulders, you tied the sash around his waist, kissing his chest tenderly once you were done. You noticed Dark Cacao Cookie watching you with admiration. He admired your every move with such tenderness and adoration you couldn't help but blush like you weren't already married.

Dark Cacao Cookie pulled you against his chest, swaying with you in his arms. He kissed the top of your head as you rested against his chest. How did he get so lucky to marry such a wonderful man like you?

A quiet knock at the door brought your attention away from each other. A servant slid the door open and bowed their head.

"Your majesties," They greeted. "I have today's report of the kingdom's resources." They said. Dark Cacao Cookie frowned slightly.

"Leave it. I will attend to it later. Now, do not disturb us for the rest of the night." He ordered.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

The better girlfriend

Daryl Dixon x reader | SMUT🔞 [pt.1]

Having some alone time with Daryl in the woods was not as alone as you expected. But you won in the end so it was worth the drama.

It had been a good few months of being with Daryl and developing your relationship into the well oiled machine it had become these days.

Daryl had invited you to go hunting with him so you could spend some alone time away from the community, thinking the woods would be the best place to get some peace and quiet. Just the two of you in the vast greens of the forest.

There hadn't been many walkers around the area, to your luck, you thought. You had been dying to ask Daryl if he was willing to fuck you up against a tree, or at the edge of the lake when the weather allows for swimming.

"Look there." Daryl's hand found your shoulder to pull you in front of him, sandwiched between the large tree and his body. "Righ' there." His breath fanned your ear as his fingers pointed at an animal in the distance.

Or, you thought he was pointing at one, because you weren't seeing anything remotely resembling an animal in the direction of his fingers.

Were you truly that much of a sucky hunter?

"Dee, I don't see any--" The hand that pointed before dropped to your hip so he could grind against you.

"R'member ya sayin' ya watched. Was cuz ya were jealous, aint it?" His voice was low and gravely, barely above a whisper. "Lemme make this huntin' teip a lil' less boring for ya." The crossbow formerly in Daryl's hands was set on the ground, along with your bags, coats, anything but the pants pulled down to Daryl's thighs and the ones dangling from your leg.

"Tap me when yer legs don' want no more." With a swift lick of his lips he moved down to his knees and stuck his fave between your legs. His beard scraped your thighs and his tongue left a trail of heat in its wake. "Oh fuck, Daryl.."

Moving a leg for better acces Daryl now held you up with one hand on your hip and one on the back of your thigh as he lapped at you like he hadn't had a meal in weeks. "Hahh... ahh." You needed a hand up at your mouth to keep yourself from getting too loud. Daryl's wet, sloppy sounds were at least slightly muffled by the plush of your legs that you felt getting slicker by the second as they slowly started to buckle thr closer you got to your first orgasm of the day. Your hand found his hair, "Daryl.. close.." a harsh tug at the roots had Daryl tighten his grip on your hips and let out a vulgar moan against your clit, wrapping his lips back around it to finish you off. He made sure to lick you clean before pulling you down to his level and laying you down on the forest floor.

Daryl crawled over you, staring down at you like a predator ready to devour its prey. The lower half of his face still glitening with your slick and his thick cock dripping in anticipation.

"Looks like you enjoyed yourself too, dear." Your legs went to wrap around his ass and pull his down to you, feeling him press against your centre. Daryl sat up on his haunches to get a nice view of where his cock slowly pushed into your wet heat, rocking back and forth at a steady pace with his large hands on your hips and your legs wrapped around his waist.

Daryl only got a few rough thrusts in before feeling that familiar tug already, wanting to apologize for how short he'd last but the excitement of having you on his turf got the best of him. He finished without a warning, a loud, animalistic groan leaving him as he slumped forward. One hand landing right next to your head on the forest floor and his face inches from you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath. He panted as he caught his breath, still semi hard inside of you making you want to squeeze your walls around him. Each little squeeze had him whimper, quickly falling to his elbows with his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel him getting hard fast, continuing to pant against your skin as his thrusts started to slowly pick up again. "You feel so good, Dee." Your hand found his hair and tangled your fingers into the strands, keeping his head in place as he rutted into you like an animal chasing its release.

"S'like heaven.." Daryl's entire world disappeared in that moment. There was just him and you, intertwined on a bed of leaves.

With Daryl's face buried in the crook of your neck it was your job to keep an eye on your surroundings, slowly moving your head towards the soft rustle of leaves that had you stare right into the eyes of the hag herself.

Daryl's ex stood further off between the trees with someone you barely recognised. With looking straight into the eyes of thr woman you put your hand back in Daryl's hair, tugging at the roots and earning a loud moan. Your heels dug deeper in Daryl's back, making him thrust even deeper, having you moaning out loud too. Daryl's hand moved in response, finding the closest piece of fabric to wipe his fingers on before moving his hand up to your face and stuffing two thick fingers between your lips to silence you.

All the while your eyes were still glued to hers.

Daryl had noticed nothing of the interaction by the time you returned all your attention to him, quietly whining you were close and getting a likeminded answer in return and not long after laying in each other's embrace, enjoying the afterglow and catching your breaths.

While you got wiped down and dressed you decided to give Daryl the much needed heads up. "Your lovely ex girlfriend and some douche walked by earlier."

Daryl's eyes moved to meet you as he buttoned up his shirt, lifting a brow as a dign to continue. "Yeah, so expect comments as soon as we see them back home."

An affirmative grunt was all you got in reply as you continued to get ready to move on again.

Your checkup along all of Daryl's traps became more of a repair session between cut ropes and raided traps. Not a single one was left untouched.

"No' only did they see us, they had ta break the damn traps too?" Daryl was quick to blame the two, seeing some were undone properly.

"Surprises me she actually listened for once, then. She remembered how to undo this kind." While you busied yourself setting the trap up properly again, Daryl was a few treea down entirely re-stringing one that got cut down in order to take the animal out. "Bet they're back home lyin' their asses off with stolen game."

There was venom in his tone. Daryl had only a few rules when it came to his work in the woods and normally everyone kept to those.

"Rick will know they took it, he'll call them out on their shit."

Your offer to go fishing was denied without a second thought. Daryl was done.

It hurt you to see him so defeated, and you hated how one person could dismiss the community's rules so easily for their own profit.

You came home with nothing, but the guards didn't seem surprised. Only a quick "Rick took care of it." before you moved on.

Before you went back to your house you stopped by Olivia to report the used materials for the repaired traps and swung by the pantry for something easy to eat.

You were about halfway home and couldn't avoid running into the one person you hoped not to see today. Across the street where you had to pass was her home, currently being used to house a get together of the women's clique. And all eyes were on the two of you.

Daryl tried his best to just look ahead and keep moving on, but the second you were right across her home your walk was interupted.

"You just Had to go see how good he is in the woods huh?" The shrill sounding callout was impossible to ignore and had you stop dead in your tracks, Daryl almost stumbling into you. The hand on your side that clearly meant to steer you away did nothing.

"Oh I Know Daryl's good at anything he does in the woods. Didn't need to have seen your squealing hog impressions to figure that out." You made your way across the street. "He's so good in the woods people need to steal from him and flaunt what's obviously his handywork."

"Besides," you cocked your head to the side in a thinking manner. "I could have sworn you thought he was horrible in bed. So what changed your mind?"

Daryl was silently praying for the pavement to swallow him whole at that moment, but then he wouldhave missed the stammering that was happening in front of him.

With all eyes now on her there were no words that could save her from this fuck up.

"Well?" There was a shit eating grin on your face that only added fuel to the fire that was her beet red face, full of anger but unable to form a proper response.

Daryl's side met with yours as his arm snaked around your back and he pressed a kiss to your hair. It was a small gesture, but it had enough impact to take the win as you two watched her walk off in a rage.

The others that still found themselves on her porch gave you two a shrug as they looked to where she disappeared off to. A few "sorry"'s and "I don't know either"'s came from them as you turned to make your way back home.

"Ya know wha'?" Daryl's hand squeezed your hip as you walked home side by side.

With raised brows and a soft smile you looked at him, the soft sunlight highlighting everything you found so beautiful about him.

"M'glad ya saved me from 'er." His hand slid from your body to take yours, lacing together your fingers and playfully bumping shoulders.

On the turn onto your yard Daryl stopped you with a soft tug on your arm, turning you towards him.

You watched him get in his head for a moment, but his hands found yours. The soft slide of his calloused fingertips over the skin of your arms down to the palms of your hands as he took them both in his again.

With a soft steadying breath he leaned in for a most gentle kiss. It took you off guard at first, Daryl never kissed you in public and now he was holding on to you like this for everyone to see.

You kissed him back with the same intensity he was giving, sharing maybe the most intimate moment you've had.

When you broke apart for air Daryl's breath was shaky, the nerves still clear as day in every fiber of his being.

But he was smiling.

Eyes squinted with the uncontrolable pull of the upward curve of his lips.

Your hands were still held in his when Daryl came back to earth. The blue in his eyes overflowing with everything he was feeling in this moment, but only one stood out.

"I love ya. More than anythin' else in the world. Aint no one gon' change tha'."

A/N: Thanks to a very excited sounding reply to the original fic we now have a second part!! I hope you all enjoyed it ♡♡

[seraphicloves]

𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞

⊱✿⊰ summary: your family wants to protect you but its impossible with the life you all lead

⊱✿⊰ warnings: kidnapping, minor torture, it will be angsty, almost dying, spitting on your face, the joker deserves his own warning tbh

⊱✿⊰ notes: this is for skye because she wanted some angsty batfam stuff and here we are. I am just shitting on the page and hoping words form at this point. I hope you enjoy and feel free to send me requests. Also this is a platonic fic sorry if you were hoping for romance action

⊱✿⊰ tags: @kozumesphone @fizzywashere87 @fashionablysouly @witherwallflower @goldierey

@finleyforevermore @baecakie @gergthecat @mqstermindswift @anyas-shitposting69 (comment on this or send me an ask if you want to be added to my DC taglist)

"Well, well, well. Looks like baby bird got caged." The clown sneered, leaning close to your face. You scrunched your nose and tried to scoot away despite the ropes scratching your wrists raw.

The Joker's finger runs along your cheek, a horrific grin on his face as he stared at you. You tried to keep a brave face, you tried to act like the domino mask over your eyes was really a shield. You tried to act like your dad, Batman.

Maybe it was your fault you got kidnapped. He said you weren't ready to go out and patrol with your family, but you went away. You stole one of Damian's mask and put on the most costume adjacent clothes you owned.

"Where should I start, little one?" Joker asked, breaking your train of thoughts. Placing blame would be set for another time. Not now, its not time yet. "Should I give you a smile that matches mine? Should I turn you into a firey decoration before dear ol' daddy bat gets here?"

You winced, trying to prevent the ice filling your veins and the fear weighing your stomach down. The Joker grabbed a knife from his table that had numerous weapons littered on top. Carefully the cold metal of the blade brushed against your skin, not harsh enough to cut just yet. He wanted to scare you first.

•───────────•°•❀•°•──────────•

"I am going to kill that son of a bitch." Jason growled as soon as he heard the news. Bruce gathered the family in the batcave, and explained the Joker had kidnapped the youngest of the family- you.

"Jason, I understand your frustration but we can't act with haste. I won't let her face the same fate you did. I won't make the same mistake twice." Bruce replied, already dressed as Batman. He was doing his best to stay professional despite his fear being ever present.

"I don't want to wait too long either." Dick added, crossing his arms over his chest. Everybody was tense, wanting their sister to be safe once again.

"I'll find where that stupid clown is keeping [Name]." Tim said, standing up and rushing towards the computer before anybody could even reply. Barbara silently followed, knowing she would be the most help to Tim.

Bruce looked at all of his family and nodded, "We'll find her and get her back."

•───────────•°•❀•°•──────────•

Your throat was hoarse and tears had dried on your face. There was no point to fighting it anymore, you only hoped he would kill you soon.

"Aw but doesn't the bird look good with her wings marked?" The Joker chuckled, slicing yet another line into your arm. The cuts were deep, sure to scar, and they were deliberate. You could only guess what he was spelling on your arms.

With the amount of blood flowing down your arms like a red river, it was to no surprise you were fading in and out of consciousness. That would be nice, at least you wouldn't be awake while he tortured you.

You almost settled into the pain, eyes fluttering close to let yourself rest, when you heard a crash. Glass was broken and there was yelling everywhere.

The Joker grabbed your face with his hand and forced you to look forward, where you saw your family (the only thing disguising their horrified looks were their masks)

"Looks like they showed up in time for you, baby bird." He grinned, spitting on your cheek. You were too tired, too fragile to even bother being disgusted. It was better than the cutting.

"Let her go and I'll think about not crushing your head into the wall." Red Hood barked out, already aiming his gun at The Joker. You tried to pay more attention but you were fading slowly,, ready to force your body to rest.

The Joker dropped your body like it was nothing, your face smashing into the concrete. It hurt, pain forming in your forehead but it was a distraction from the blood oozing out of you.

Despite your best efforts, you finally blacked out. The last thing you saw was your family lunging at the Joker, rage thick in the air.

Light flooded your eyes, fresh air blasting your lungs. You were laying down on something soft and warm, contrasting against the mildly scratchy fabric on your skin. You blinked your eyes a few times, forcing them to focus despite the dull ache pounding in your head.

"You're awake." Damian said, apparently sitting beside you. It took a little while but you realized you were in the personal hospital at the manor. He had a few scratches and bruises but nothing as horrific as the scars on your skin (and in your brain.)

"Wha-what..happened?" You croaked, throat feeling like sandpaper. Like magic, Dick appeared with a glass of water you gratefully took. The liquid in your throat was almost heavenly in the way it made you feel infinitely better.

"The Joker kidnapped you and we rescued you." Your father explained calmly, not bothering to add details. Which was probably good for you, the devil's in details.

"I'm glad your back, sis." Jason said, making you suddenly aware of his presence in the back of the room. Your entire family seemed to be in here, ready to see your betterment. Despite he general aversion to touch, Jason wrapped you into a hug.

Of course, everybody else joined in (forcefully or not) for a big group hug. You laughed, despite the hollow of your heart, watching as Tim was pushed into the hug by Dick.. It was ridiculous having a group hug after a traumatic event...how family sitcom could you get?

But somehow, it felt good to be in the arm's of your family. It felt like home.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[wantondoe]

Sleep tight, dear

Alastor x doe reader, fluff, slight angst

Just a short story about Alastor cuddling you until you hibernate <3

During the whole fall, you had concentrated getting as much nutrients as possible. After all, you are a doe demon. You need those nutrients to survive the harsh winter. Deer don't normally hibernate, but for some reason, you do. Perhaps it's because your body hasn't gotten used to Hell yet, so it protects itself by hibernating. Even though it has been two years now...

You would often be found in the kitchen, sitting at the table while surrounded by food. Your form had gotten even softer and cuddlier, which your mate Alastor did not mind.

The moment you arrived in Hell and met the tall, dark, and creepy Radio Demon, had also been the moment when you knew your single days were over. Alastor had wasted no time getting close to you, fascinated by your doe-form. He had offered you a job at the Hotel. Of course you couldn't deny his offer!

It was a quiet evening as you carefully gathered up the softest blankets and plushiest pillows to build a makeshift nest on your bed. You had even found two body pillows to make the nest stronger. You carefully folded the pillows inside the blankets. This was serious. You would spend the next 9 weeks on the nest after all!

Your handsome mate was examining your each move, leaning his form against the door frame, his arms crossed, a sly smirk playing on his lips. He always found it endearing when you had a pout like that on your pretty little face. He loves seeing you so concentrated, so devoted.

"Building a little nest are you my dear?" he spoke with a soft voice.

"Yes! I think I'm going to need more blankets though... " you gazed at the nest. It was forming up nicely, but still looked a little... Boring.

"My dear you've done spectacular job building the nest! Leave it to me to get some more blankets for you!" he smiled at her before disappearing in the shadows.

You smiled at your mate's helpfulness and climbed on the nest, seeing how it felt. You curled up in the nest, placing pillows between your knees and under your head, trying to find the perfect position.

"Oh my, you look absolutely adorable!" he reappeared next to your nest. You didn't even flinch, as you had already gotten used to his teleportation tendencies. He laid next to you on the nest, placing blankets over you two.

"Thank you, dearest."

"Of course, anything for my special doe", he hummed, petting your hair, admiring those perky doe ears. "You know... I'm going to miss you", he said, his smile dropping, something he only dared to do with your presence.

"I know", you say quietly, nuzzling in his chest, the soft red shirt tickling your nose. "I'm going to miss you too, so much."

As you looked at your dear mate deep into his crimson eyes, you could see tears pricking from the corners of his eyes despite his small smile.

"I will miss you more", he whispered. "I don't want to let you go."

You chuckled at your mate's dramatic tone. Brushing your fingertip around his jawline, you say: "I won't be going anywhere. I'll be right here and you can visit me anytime."

"I hate seeing you in hibernation... So unresponsive..." he pouted. "I adore our banters, our walks around Cannibal Town, the way those gorgeous doe-eyes of yours gaze at me..."

"Alastor dear", you whisper, "I won't stay gone."

"I know..." he sighed, cuddling you tighter. "I just wish you didn't have to hibernate."

"I know", you speak quietly, your hand resting on his cheek. "Will you stay here until I fall in hibernation?" you request.

"Of course I will, my dearest", he kissed your forehead. "That's it... Relax, darling", he spoke, his voice soothing. "I'll be right here."

"You're too good to me", you smile faintly, feeling your body relax. You feel his long lean arms wrapped securely around you, his breathing calm and heavy. You inhale his scent as you feel yourself giving in to the deep slumber awaiting...

"Only the best for my dearest mate", he chuckles as he witnesses your eyelids pressing down, your eyelashes casting long shadows over your soft cheeks. "I love you my dearest. Sleep tight."

Alastor let a few hot tears roll down his cheeks as he felt you fall into hibernation. The mere idea of you just sleeping for 9 weeks was unbearable. Who would he have breakfast with? Who would walk with him at the parks, who'd hug him after a stressful overlord meeting?

He sobbed softly as he carefully got up, tucking the blankets securely around you. He gazed down at you as if you were the most precious thing ever which you definitely were. He sighed, running his fingers carefully on your hair.

He took a deep breath as he sat there, imagining all the things he'd miss about you. He smiled at the memories, such as your adorable face peeking behind the radio tower door. His heart melted at the way you two would sit in a comfortable silence on that same bench at that park nearby your favorite bakery... His heart fluttered at the memory of your soft lips pressed against his cheeks. You'd always find ways to make his life a tad more bearable.

He caught himself in a dark place, reminiscing all those things. On the other hand, he knew all those things were a good reason to keep up the hope, to suffer the waiting.

Before leaving your cozy room, he turned to look at you one last time. With a soft loving voice, he whispered: "Sleep tight, dear."

[huge-jacked-man-is-bae]

Late night

In which you wait for Old Man Logan to come home after a job

Warning(s): conflicts, swearing, feelings (is that even a warning??), stubborn Logan

Pairing: Old Man Logan x Reader

(no use of Y/N)

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You were there...as always. Taking care of Charles when needed. Cleaning up and keeping him company. You loved to hear his stories, but Charles knew that you wanted to know Logan's stories. So he endulged in the stories of the now Old man Logan, and you just listened to Charles with a smile on your face. You knew if you wanted to ask Logan about his past, he'd just shrug it off and leave you the heck alone, as usual.

Charles....the old tricky man he is, often brings you up to Logan, he wanted to know if there was more to that hate towards us, or it was just simply cause he didn't like you, just tolerated you. But Logan is as stubborn as a kid, he refuses to show any emotion when they talk about you. Even if you're around Logan, he just waves you off or just grunts, as that's how he is communicating most of the time. He is tired, and you can see it, heck even Caliban is worried about him, the Adamantium poisoning is slowly taking its toll on Logan. But as a fool he is, he refuses to ask for help, what a stubborn old man!

You always make sure to wash his clothes, make him food and tend to his injuries if it's necessary, even if he pushes you away. And the worst part is, that you slowly start to fall in love with that stubborn old man. Every time you were around him, the butterflies in your stomach started to slowly fill up your stomach, he often side eyed you for your reaction, he could see the pinkness on your cheeks, but he brushed it off.

"Another client?" You ask as you made your way into the kitchen, seeing Logan by the kitchen table, sitting there, sipping on some already cold coffee. "But it's almost midnight.."

"Well, they don't care about time, bub. And someone has to earn money.." he said rather grumpily. Didn't even look up at him. Like you never existed.

"I am worried about you Logan..." That's it. You finally said it. A flash of surprise plastered on his face, but he shook his head and drank from his cup.

"No need to be worried about me, bub. You should focus on taking care of Charles and to the housework." Jesus he's such a pain in the ass.

"And I am doing it every day."

"Good, only concentrate on that and stop pushing your nose into my business, bub.." he said angrily and put down his cup, it was now empty. You jumped a little bit at his sudden movement but he didn't care about it, just adjusted his dress shirt and put on his jacket, and put his reading glasses into the inside pocket of the jacket. Phone in his hand.

"I am not trying to—" you started to explain.

"Enough, bub!! I'm tired of your constant nagging and caring! I don't need this! I didn't ask for it! Keep your fucken distance and leave me alone!! I'll be home late." With that, Logan grabbed the limo's keys and walked out of the smelting power plant. You were taken aback by his harsh words, like he never ever talked to you like this. Why now? Maybe there was something bothering him? Or you really believed that the problem was actually yourself. You heart ached as you thought about it, the possibility of being the source of his misery, his anger, his annoyance.

After three hours... Three hours passed ever since Logan had left to drive a client. As usual, he was exhausted, the money was great as he got a huge tip and all, but...he was still sad and miserable, but.... something in his heart ached as he saw you on the couch in the little living room he made himself. Tried to make the smelting power plant more home-y, ever since you lived there too. He didn't understand why, but he knew that if he'll act upon these feelings he is buried deep down. He didn't even want to acknowledge it at all, especially after that happened in his life, how he lost everyone he held most dear. How Jean's death still shook him till this day. He promised himself that he'll never feel things like this after her death... But there you were.... Making his heart skip a beat.

He looked down at you, as you slept. His eyes widened as soon as he realized that you were cuddling one of his jackets, his heart....that stupid heart he decided to freeze...started to melt again. Beating faster by the minute he was staring down at you, looked at how your chest fell and rose, how your hair sprawled out on the cushion of the couch. You were perfect, in every way. But he was still stubborn to realize...or at least accept it. He was reluctant to give into the feeling... Jesus he didn't even know what to do now.. So. Out of instinct, held you up in his arms bridal style, your head rested on his chest as he made his way towards your bedroom, his heart was about to burst out of his chest.

He kicked the door open lightly and walked inside of the bedroom and approached your bed, gently laying you down on it. And all he could do was....just stare.... Stare at your sleeping form, how beautiful you looked, how your hair was framing your face, he involuntarily moved his hand and tucked a stray hair behind your ear, your skin was smooth and warm, unlike his ruggedy face and skin. He thought back to the times when you laughed at a bad joke Charles was cracking, the way you took care of both him and Charles. Your heart, your soul... everything was perfect about you. but he was afraid... Afraid of screwing up, afraid of hurting you. But he couldn't resist the temptation. Often imagined what would it be to be together with you, to wake up next to you every morning, to sleep next to you every night, to kiss you, hold you, fuck you. He shook his head, pushing these thoughts aside but sat down on the edge of your bed. He was reluctant to get away, to leave you, especially when he knew that you were on the couch cause you waited for him to come home, every fucken time.

"The things I wanna do to you, bub.." he sighed and stood up from the bed, took one last glance at you and he did it... He couldn't resist. Logan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. It was slow and sweet, his heart....his poor heart was accelerating fast, almost giving him a heart attack. He felt so weak...but so right. "Sweet dreams" he murmured and pulled the covers over your body, making sure to tuck you in well cause he knew that you can get cold easily. Then he left, to put some food into his stomach, as he'd never miss your cooking. His thoughts were occupied by you, as always. Waiting for the perfect moment to finally snap and make a move. But when was the perfect moment? He didn't fucken know.

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Part 2?

[little-fairy-forest]

Say that shit again

Bakugo x gn! Reader

Bakugo takes part in the lastest tiktok trend to his dismay, all joked aside once his mother gets the final word

Note : mentions of gaining weight,

"Absolutely not" bakugo grumbles as he cleans the dishes after dinner at his parents house. You sit at the bar table as you try to persuade your boyfriend into partaking in a 'funny' tiktok trend you've seen some couples do

"Whats the worst that could happen, she loves us‐"

"Nuh uh, the old man would be stern with me but..." katsuki looks around to make sure his mom isn't within ear shot "the old hag will hang me if I even mess with you"

You laugh at Katsuki's reasoning, as yes, he is right. Mitsuki has your back even if you're in the wrong, much to Katsuki's annoyance.

"Just once!" You bargain "I'll jump in if things get too heated"

Katsuki finishes washing the dishes and turns to you with a blank stare

"You've one shot and film'n that dumb tiktok–"

You bounce out of your chair in victory, already getting the camera set up, isn't life great when katsuki decides to listen to you?

————

The camera is set up so its facing katsuki, but hidden behind the fruit bowl. You'd be lying if you weren't nervous yourself for Mitsuki's reaction to Katsuki being mean to you in front of her.

Mitsuki is now at the dining room table reading a magazine and having tea whilst you and katsuki are at the kitchen bar table "have a conversation". If only Mitsuki knew what chaos was being plotted right in front of her.

You could smell the smoke off Katsuki's palms due to how nervous he was. Too late to turn back. You send him a reasurring smile as you tap the countdown button on your phone to start recording.

You start off the conversation by asking Katsuki to put the kettle on and you'd go find some treats to have together

"I think theres some mochi in the fridge if you'd like some? Or maybe we could bake something" you calmly.

Katsuki speaks in his usual brash tone " you don't need anymore sugar, theres fruit right there dumbass"

Mitsuki perks up at the sound of Katsuki's harsh voice, ever so slightly missed what he said as she was engrossed in her magazine. That was close.. too close.

"But kats its Friday, so a treat is okay!" You saying trying to convince your boyfriend to comply with your simple reasoning.

"No." He says sternly, "you could bearly manoeuvre around the course earlier, let alone dodge half n halfs attacks earlier..."

Mitsuki has now started to fully listen, carfully settling down her magazine to see where katsuki is going with this conversation.

"Its only one treat i promise!" You plead with the blond, you notice another head turn and speak up.

"Katsuki theres fresh mochi in the fridge, strawberry or lemon, I can make something else if yous like" Mitsuki trys to reason woth her son. She knows herself how strict he is with his own diet, but she never have thought he would be strict with your diet.

"I already told them no, and besides their hero suit was lookin' a little tight earlier"

Silence. Deafening silence.

No one deared to move, all that could be heard was the ticking of the wall clock and Mitsuki clearly her throat before speaking in a deadly voice.

"Say that shit again, I dare you"

Oh no. Katsuki is absolutely dead–

"Ma hold on–" katsuki immediately tries to defuse to argument that hadn't even started yet, but as a hothead himself he knew where his mothers temper would lead to.

"Is that the way you talk to your partner? Huh?" Mitsuki was in full parenting mode. Even though her son stands taller then she, best believe she isn't afraid to stand up to him.

Katsuki stutters over his words, for once he wasn't sure if he should even dare yell back at his mothers face.

"Uh - we, we were just‐"

"Bullshit"

"Ma listen," katsuki looks over to you for help. Katsuki has to decide if he wants his ass beaten or protect his partner.

"I know you love him y/n, but if you mind letting me deal with this child who thinks he can talk to his partner like that–"

Yes you love his family, but you don't love how they commicate.

But you also love adding fuel to the fire

"Mitsuki, he didn't even let me finish my lunch earlier! He said and i quote 'lookin like a sack of potato's in a school uniform'"

*boom*

No Katsuki's were hurt in the making of this fic.

Go check out my masterlist !

Requests are open :)

[spiriteddreams]

in exile, seeing you out

Hiraeth: (n.) a homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was notes: sunday x reader — angst with a hopeful ending, lots of feelings wc: 2.2k

i.  The story begins before his fall. It starts with the comforting warmth of lovers who do not notice the cracks that begin to snake beneath both of your feet. You are bathed in golden light, a product of the star-filled dream he has worked to build and sustain for the two of you to stand beneath now, to impress you, to show you what he can offer you in this world. The sun does not rise in this sweet dream beneath the stars so neither of you will burn if you get too close. But this story of Icarus starts with the falters in your relationship, the missed signs and the words that you couldn't translate for one another.

"Sunday, are you alright?" you don't fully address him by his name often, but the rise in his sleepless nights and his days spent out longer at work have raised your concerns.

"It's nothing you need to worry about, my dear,” he doesn’t look up from his work. This isn’t the first time you’ve approached him out of worry, but it comes to a point when you wonder when it will be the last.

You sigh and try your luck again. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, you need to rest—“

“Well if it's not me to take on this mantle then who?” his pen stops scratching against the paper. It is silent now that Sunday looks up at you, holding your gaze with something swimming in his eyes, something you can’t quite decipher. He looks exhausted, wings drooping behind him, hand clutching his pen so tightly as if it is the only thing tethering him to this place. 

“What mantle? Sunday, what are you talking about?” you scoff. “You’ve been speaking cryptically for weeks, can you please tell me what’s going on or how I can help you?” He refuses to divulge anymore than he already has. With the Charmony Festival just around the corner and esteemed guests arriving to join in the festivities, you feel as if Sunday is closing himself away from everyone in sweet dream. And what is the opposite of the sweet dream but the harshness of the sun?

“Nothing. It's nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he sighs sharply then takes a deep breath. In a more gentle tone he continues, “Now if you would, please, I need to finish this. I'll join you for dinner, I promise.”

He joins you, just as he said and apologizes for his harsh words. He brings you home and his hands do not stray far. After all, at the end of the day you are both just lovers, with tangled hands and swollen lips, sweet nothings breathed onto skin. But even then, you can still trace the lines of tension etched across his face, the tightness to his words, the slight pulling away that you are unable to prevent the more times this pattern repeats. He locks himself up in work, snaps for your exit, then whispers bittersweet apologies later.

You think you’ve seen this film before. In a movie perhaps, one with Penaconian stars whose faces are plastered on billboards, a teaser of two tragic lovers whose paths ultimately diverge. You don’t quite like the ending to that, and yet you wonder if that was a warning, some sort of ridiculous sign you should have read into.

Another instance passes and he refuses to hear you out. You exit this narrative before Sunday has the chance to bring you down with him.

ii.  He’s not quite sure what hurts more: the train that barrels into him or the sting he feels at the sight of both you and Robin standing with the Astral Express. The sight of your horrified expression doesn’t suit you, and yet you are still standing there, hand wrapped around your own weapon as if you would not hesitate to strike. If you and Robin stand on the opposite end of all that he has built, he can’t help but wonder, in this split second of grace that he can afford, what is he defending now?

The train hurts more, physically of course. But with how fast everything has happened, he can’t quite piece things together, this scheme that had bloomed behind his back. The last time you both had spoken, it was a quiet and cold exchange of words with one another, fueled by both his and your exhaustion and frustration. Sunday hadn’t quite realized just how distant you had grown until you were packing up the last of your things, reclaiming the bits and pieces of your life that you had left in his care. It felt like only five minutes had passed after you both had quieted down and you had left, leaving him alone at the end of the hall.

But this feels like a betrayal in his eyes. Amidst the fighting his head spins, reeling between separate conversations with Robin and Gopher Wood. One urges him to lay down to rest, while the other sneers at him to continue this fight he is so rapidly losing. He tries to recall the signs, if there were any, that he may have missed that have led to this point.

“Love, don’t you think you should take a break, you’ve been working for hours non-stop.” He's not sure why this conversation has surfaced but he indulges in the memory for just a moment. A break sounds nice right now. And when was the last time you used such a term of endearment when addressing him? This memory of you is blurred, both by the heat of the fight and the distance in time but he hears himself saying, “There’s no need for you to worry, this is only a menial task I need to take care of. I’ll join you shortly.”

You open your mouth, hesitate, then close it. Sunday waits for what you have to say, but he can feel the paper at his fingertips begging for his attention. When you say nothing he looks back down. Even with his Halovian abilities, he’s no mind reader, but he figures that if you had something to say, you would’ve come out to say it. 

(When does concern turn to unease?)

Now, he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes. He knew that you and Robin were close, but he’s not quite sure how you ended up in this position. Yet he doesn’t have the grace of time to consider how and why you now know his secrets. But if anything, it gives him the drive to win, to craft this sweet dream within a dream for you and ensure that you will never have to see something like this again, with golden blood pouring down and a scorching sun that threatens to melt away all that he has built. 

All of a sudden everything around him feels like it’s burning. He can feel the wind rushing against his back as he reaches skyward for something, he’s not sure what this time. 

“Brother,” Robin’s soft voice surrounds him. “The dream is over.”

He rests his eyes and pretends that he falls into your embrace.

iii.  He can’t turn things around anymore, time never favors the fallen. But there are always other factors, unknown variables who enter the playing field, bargaining for his freedom. And when Sunday returns in search of a farewell, he realizes that his self exile from penacony is also an exile from you. 

He chooses to watch from a distance as you pick up the pieces he left behind for himself. He knows he has left his mark and that his time with you is far too ingrained for it to be washed away like all else. You are not Robin, so he can't find it in him to face you, even in this disguise.

So he doesn't quite understand your fleeting movements, never staying in place for long until he learns that you have been spending more time with the Nameless. You’re retracing his steps, he realizes, and that’s what leads you to stand next to Dan Heng. Jealousy bubbles in his chest from where he stands, within your field of view but still, he thinks, hidden in the shadows.

From this distance, he can't hear the words you exchange with Dan Heng, nor is he familiar with this expression on your face (he is, but he chooses to read it differently). You look excited, thrilled even, and Sunday wonders what could make you smile so brightly right now. He scoffs at the thought that you might continue to seek out this Nameless again, that you’re planning to move on. Would you hear him out, one last time?

He’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he misses the way you catch him staring, his disguise long gone, alter ego for once, quiet. You find it almost endearing that Sunday doesn’t feel the need to be in disguise around you, but that feeling is washed away by the reminder that he can’t even find the courage to face you. Robin’s told you of the little time she was able to spend with him, even if it was in disguise. What makes it so different for you?

Exile is a cruel word. It carries the weight of one’s memories, a haunted past that can eat one alive if they do not find it in themselves to seek out that closure. But Dan Heng reminds you that exile is not a word that can stretch out longer than time itself. 

“We all find our way back, one way or another,” he says. “The Express will remain here for a bit longer, you’re always a welcome guest so do visit. If I cannot convince you of that, I’ll have to send March after you.” 

“Then when you leave for your next destination, I’ll bid you all farewell,” you promise.

Sunday feels like he’s been hit by the Astral Express again. You stand in front of him and for a second he thinks he must be dreaming, because all this time, he thought he had done a good job at hiding his disguised return from everyone. 

“Sunday,” you greet him curtly. His mind races, trying to decipher the tone that you use. He’s speechless and it hits him that the rest of the crew have so conveniently decided to make their exit. It is just you and him and the two ends of a rope that each of you hold.

He swallows thickly. “You’re here. I… I wasn’t expecting this.” 

“I can go if you want—”

“No! Please don’t,” his words come out more rushed than he intended. You look thoroughly unimpressed and he can only wonder what could possibly be going through your head for you to be so composed and he be the one grasping at air. 

“I’m sorry,” he isn’t sure where to start. Now isn’t the time for him to be picking his words carefully but the anxiety in him festers because he worries nothing he says will be enough.

“Do you know what you’re sorry for?” As gentle as you say it, they still sting. He can hear the hurt that’s etched into the words and that’s enough for him to give in. Sunday has never been one to let his composure fall, but if the last few months have proven anything, it’s that he’s exhausted. So he lets his resolve crumble, in only a way that one might in front of a lover. And while that’s not the term he can rightfully use anymore, he still feels it when you pull him in and let him sink into your embrace.

He doesn’t hide his words as well as he thinks he does, but you still let him, even though it hurts that he still can’t find it in him to be completely honest. The Sunday in front of you is the same man, though scarred. His mannerisms still give away his festing anxiety and you’re not a fool to the way he subtly tries to reach for you. But he can’t stay, you know that.

When you both finally have a proper conversation, Sunday feels lighter. Exile no longer feels like a curse. Perhaps a ‘see you soon,’ in a twisted sort of manner.

“I’m surprised you’ve chosen to journey with the Express, even if it’s just temporary,” you hum. The two of you stand side by side, staring out one of the Express windows. Your hands curl around the window sill and Sunday has half a mind to wrap your hand with his. 

You continue. “I think this will be good for you. Look beyond the stars, at least try to.”

“And how about you and I?” Sunday asks. “Are we going to try again?”

You hesitate. The two of you know that with the Nameless, it's the stars that lead the way.

“It’s time for you to go, I’m sure we’ll meet someday soon,” you avoid the question. Sunday smiles to himself, you’re just as hesitant as he is. It’s just the truth that he must learn to confront if, no, when you meet again.

“Wait for me?” he asks.

“I will.”

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 note: not rly content with the ending but i was listening to hadestown and this is what came of it

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Intruder

Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader Warnings: REALLY BIG trigger warnings for CM-style violence, including an attempted rape, general fear and alarm and danger, explicit language, gun violence, injury, happy ending (don't worry, I would never do that to you bbs), let me know if I've missed anything! Word count: 1.7k

Summary: When an at-large unsub with a grudge breaks into your and JJ's home, everything–and everyone–you hold dear is suddenly at risk.

You woke to the sound of breaking glass, soft and muffled but unmissable. You sat up quickly, as still and as quiet as possible. Maybe you’d imagined it? But then you heard the back door creak open and shut and fear shot through you like ice.

You grabbed JJ’s arm, shaking her shoulder, trying desperately to keep yourself calm.

“What, babe?” JJ mumbled, still half-asleep.

“Jayje, there’s someone in the house,” you whispered, voice shaky and high.

She shot up, listening closely, unconsciously moving her body to shield yours. There was no mistaking the creak of the hardwoods. JJ launched herself out of bed, quiet, brows furrowed, and you knew then that this JJ was not JJ your girlfriend. This was FBI agent JJ. This was taking-down-serial-killers JJ. Counter-terrorism-in-the-Middle-East JJ. JJ who had killed and would kill again without hesitation if she had to in order to protect her people. And you were scared. Not of her, but of whatever had come into your home and brought this JJ to the forefront. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

Keeping her eyes on the door to your bedroom, JJ reached into the nightstand to pull out two handguns and her phone. She checked the clips, then turned off the safety and carefully pressed one of the guns and her phone into your hands. Your breathing was frantic, and you were trying very hard not to cry.

She looked at you then, right in the eyes, and it was the only time in what felt like hours since you’d woken up that she’d made eye contact with you.

“JJ, I can’t,” you gasped, voice quiet.

“Yes, you can,” she replied firmly, molding your hands around the gun. “Call 9-1-1. And if you need to, point and shoot. Just like we practiced.” She directed her gaze back to the doorway, eyes adjusting to the dark, holding her own gun comfortably at her side, practiced instincts kicking in. “I’m gonna check it out.”

“JJ, no!” you begged, grabbing her arm, eyes wide. “Please.”

She pulled away, a little more harsh than she meant to be, but this wasn’t a time for sentiment. Someone was in her home. Someone who could hurt you. And she wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you.

“Point and shoot, baby” she repeated, raising her gun and walking out of the room.

You shook, hating the feeling of the cold metal against your fingers. You’d practiced with JJ, you’d been to the shooting range. She made sure you knew how to handle firearms. But you didn’t think you’d actually have to handle them. You clicked JJ’s phone on, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember her password. You silently cursed your panicked brain. You knew her password, you’d known it for years. What a time to forget. And yours was where it always was at night–plugged in on the kitchen counter.

You craned your neck, listening for something, anything. But all was quiet. You didn’t know what would be worse–the sounds of an altercation or this absolute silence.

But then you heard a crash, and you knew. Sound was much worse. Your stomach was in your throat as you listened for more, but the house had fallen quiet again. You started to hyperventilate. There were only two possibilities. First, that JJ had apprehended the intruder. But surely she would have called out to let you know it was safe? Second, that the intruder had apprehended JJ. And that stirred a fear so deep, so consuming it could swallow you whole. You felt sick to your stomach.

You waited and waited, breathing somehow both too much and too little, gripping the gun tightly. You watched the doorway, begging the universe for JJ to come around the corner. You saw movement and, for a brief moment, you were flooded with relief. But it was replaced by the most sickening, gut-churning terror you’d ever felt in your life when your brain registered that the person in the doorway was not your girlfriend.

It was a man. Tall. Broad. In a black ski mask. You thought you might vomit. From sheer panic. From the thought, shooting through your body like a bolt of lightning, that if JJ wasn’t here that meant she wasn’t okay.

Your chest heaved as the man approached you, so fast you could barely register him. You wanted to scream, you knew you should scream, but it was like your voice was stuck in your throat. You were frozen in place. You tried to raise the gun, but the intruder was too fast, wrenching it from your grasp with large hands. He tossed the gun to the side as if it were nothing, then shoved you into the headboard with such force you saw stars. You writhed and fought, but he was so much bigger than you, so much stronger. With one of his hands, he pinned your arms about your head and, with the other, circled your throat in an iron grip. You coughed, eyes watering. Somehow you still couldn’t scream, still couldn’t find your voice. But you had to fight somehow.

You raked your fingernails along the man’s wrist, pressing as hard as you could, hard enough to break through the skin. He growled and yanked your wrist back, snapping the bone. You screamed, and he pressed a gloved hand over your mouth, yanking off his mask. Tears leaked down your face as you took him in. Nothing special. A man, just like any other man.

He smiled at you, and you thought you might be sick.

“You don’t know who I am, do you?”

Even if you could’ve answered, you wouldn’t. You had no idea who he was.

He sneered, moving his face so close to yours that you could smell his breath: stale cigarettes and something older, fouler, like a rotten tooth.

“Pretty girlfriend didn’t mention me, did she? Didn’t want to scare you?”

Another wave of tears streamed down your face at the thought of JJ. What had he done to her? Was she okay? Was she even alive?

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, and you flinched as he caressed the side of your face, his gloves rough on your skin. “I’m sure she’ll come around just in time to see what I’ve done with you.”

A panic unlike any you’d ever felt before flooded your body as he removed a glove and yanked down your pants before starting to unbutton his own.

“No, no, no!” you screamed, kicking, fighting, doing everything you possibly could to get away, but he was just so much bigger than you. The weight of him on top of you, his hand bending your broken wrist back so that you writhed in pain, his knees pressing into your lungs so that you could barely breathe.

The way he looked at you–like you were something to be devoured, to be destroyed and torn apart for his own enjoyment–you would never forget it. You pinched your eyes shut as he ran his tongue over your face. He grinned again, a nasty, leering grin, and sat up a bit to survey you.

But then–a bang and a red flood pouring from the center of his forehead. You squirmed away, shaking and gasping, yanking your pants up. Seeing someone else in the room, you grabbed the gun and pointed, whimpering.

“Y/N, it’s me!” JJ yelled, raising her hands. “It’s me, baby, don’t shoot!”

You were so relieved to see her you thought you might black out. Panicked sobs coursed their way through your body, and your vision swam with tears. JJ eased the gun out of your hand and placed her hands on the side of your head, frantically looking you over.

“Are you okay?! Are you hurt!?” she said, eyes wide and frantic as she wiped the blood from your face. You used your good hand to examine JJ’s head, her hair that was caked with blood.

“You’re bleeding,” you choked out, wondering how it was possible to be both so relieved and so scared at the same time.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice breaking. “Head wounds just bleed a lot.”

She sniffled, eyes wide with fear as she grasped your face. “Did he…?” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, the words stuck in her throat. She almost couldn’t bear to hear the answer.

You shook your head, and JJ let out a sob of relief, kissing the side of your head and pulling you into her.

“Okay,” she breathed, rubbing your back, hands all over you, as if to assure herself you were really there, really alright. “You’re okay. You’re safe, baby.”

She was assuring herself more than you. You let yourself rest on JJ’s shoulder, shaking, holding your swollen wrist to your chest. JJ ran her fingers through your hair, holding you so tight you thought she might never let you go. And you didn’t want her to. You never felt safer than when you were in JJ’s arms, now more than ever. She kept pressing her lips to the side of your head, breathing you in, feeling the solidity of you.

The blue-red lights of police and paramedics flashed outside your window, and you tilted your head up to look at JJ, her face illuminated.

“You’re okay, baby,” she said again and again, her voice shaky, tears still threatening at the corners of your eyes. “You’re safe.” Like a mantra, like something that could ward the evil away from your home, away from your bedroom where it had intruded on something pure and beautiful.

“JJ,” you whispered, cupping her face with your good hand. She stopped speaking for a moment to look at you–so much love, so much fear and relief in her eyes. “I’m okay,” you reassured her. “I’m safe.”

“You’re safe,” she repeated, as if she couldn’t quite believe it, like she needed you to prove it, confirm it.

“I’m safe,” you said again, your eyes shining. “You kept me safe.”

“You’re safe.” JJ let out a shaky breath, pulling you into her chest, and if you could stay there forever, you would.

[solxamber]

Hello!

This request requires a bit of twst book 7 spoilers so if you haven't gotten there you can skip this or hold it back until you do 😅

But anyway- the request is Lilia (platonic) with a reader who acts similarly to how he did when he was a general. I think it's interesting to see characters seeing someone who reminds them of their younger self- so yeah.

Have a good day :)

Lilia x Reader

Book 7 spoilers (very slight)

I've caught up to book 7 so no problems there

Lilia Vanrouge wasn’t used to being caught off guard. As the former General of Briarland, he prided himself on his ability to anticipate others’ moves. Yet here you were, marching ahead with that all-too-familiar sharpness in your eyes, commanding the attention of everyone around you, and reminding him so much of his younger self that it was almost eerie.

You stepped into the room, your presence unmistakable as you directed students and Night Raven College staff alike, issuing orders with the same calm authority Lilia once had on the battlefield. Even the way you held yourself, arms crossed and eyes scanning the surroundings, felt like an echo from the past.

“Keep your guard up. I’ve seen paper bags put up more of a fight than you lot,” you called out to a group of students struggling with their spell practice. Your voice, despite its cutting tone, held the undeniable weight of experience. You weren’t cruel; you were just efficient.

Lilia, lounging casually nearby, raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his crimson eyes. "Aren't you being a bit harsh, my dear?"

You turned your head slightly, just enough to acknowledge him, but didn’t soften your tone. “Harsh? If they can’t handle a little reality check, they’ve got no business being here. I don’t hand out participation trophies, Vanrouge.”

A slow smile spread across Lilia’s face. Oh yes, you were very much like him in his youth.

"I see, I see. Efficiency over pleasantries, hmm?" Lilia stood up, stretching his arms. "You're starting to sound like a certain fae general I used to know."

You gave him a quick glance before returning to overseeing the students. "So I've heard," you replied dryly. "Though, from what I gather, you’ve gone soft these days."

Lilia laughed, a sharp, almost nostalgic sound. "Soft, you say? Oh, my dear, I like to think I've simply grown wiser. It’s easy to bark orders, but true strength lies in understanding the right moment to act and when to step back.”

You tilted your head, considering his words. "Wiser or not, there’s no place for sentimentality in war… or in this school, for that matter."

He stepped closer, his once light-hearted expression fading as he studied you. "You remind me of myself far more than you know. But remember, it wasn’t just strength or strategy that kept me alive for so long—it was knowing when to let others in. When to trust.”

"Trust?" you echoed, your tone sharp. "Trust is for those who can't stand alone. I don't need anyone to have my back. Never have."

For a moment, the two of you locked eyes, tension crackling in the air like the charge before a storm. Lilia saw in you the same stubborn pride, the same relentless drive that had once pushed him to become one of the most feared generals in Briarland. But he also saw the same isolation—the burden of responsibility that came from always being the strongest, the smartest, the one who couldn’t afford to falter.

“I once believed that too,” Lilia said quietly, his voice no longer teasing but serious, laden with the weight of years gone by. “I thought being strong meant standing alone, shouldering every burden by myself. But you’ll learn, eventually, that even the strongest walls crumble without support.”

You didn’t respond immediately, a flicker of something—recognition, maybe—passing through your eyes. But then you scoffed, shaking your head. “I’m not you. I won’t make that mistake.”

Lilia chuckled again, though this time it was softer, more reflective. “We’ll see. But don’t be surprised if you find yourself looking back one day and realizing you were wrong.”

There was silence between you for a few moments as you both observed the students. Lilia couldn’t help but feel a strange mixture of pride and concern as he watched you. You were so much like he had been—determined, unyielding, with the strength and the tactical mind to back it up. But he also knew the dangers of walking that path alone, of pushing others away in the name of strength.

“You know,” Lilia added after a moment, his voice lightening again, “there’s more to life than just winning battles.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Lilia grinned, his mischievousness returning in full force. “Well, for starters, you could try having a little fun. Not everything has to be so serious. Even a general needs to let loose sometimes.”

You smirked. “Maybe. But that’s not my style.”

“We’ll see about that,” Lilia said, eyes twinkling. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

As you turned away, focusing again on the students, Lilia watched you with a mixture of amusement and nostalgia. You were every bit the fierce, formidable leader he had once been—and he couldn’t wait to see what would happen when you finally realized that sometimes, even the strongest people needed a little help from those around them.

Until then, he’d keep an eye on you. After all, there was nothing more interesting than watching a reflection of your younger self slowly begin to learn the lessons you once had.

And Lilia had all the time in the world.

Masterlist