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brownblob · 4 months ago

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"I Love You"

When the words "I love you" spill from the prefect's lips, how do the Housewardens react?

Part 1

TW: Kissing in Malleus' part, forehead kisses, mentions of insecurities (Fluff)

Part 2 (Separate): Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

ᥫ᭡. Kalim Al-Asim ᥫ᭡.

Like the scorching sun in the Scalding Sands, Kalim's feelings for you burned deep within his heart. Why is it that he wants to spend time with you, but the moment he does, his heart seems to stop? Why is it that the word 'friend' bugs him when associated with you? Why is it that he wants to be selfish, to hog you for himself? His mind become's mush whenever you're near and his throat feels dry, he just feels so shy.

Kalim is everything but shy.

Expensive gifts, prized heirlooms, rare gemstones, and any luxury you could name- he'll give it all to you, so why do you reject? Anyone else would accept his gifts with open arms, encouraging him to give more. Wait, you aren't anyone, you're you. You don't take, you give. Despite the little you have in this new world, you who harbors no magic, gives him joy. You spend time with him, you care for him, and you don't take from him- he really wishes you would.

Take his riches and look back at him just one more time, he swears he'll hand you all the gold he can acquire. So please, please just look at him more.

You're caring, so much so that he could just melt in your arms. How lucky he feels when you look at him, but why? Jamil looks at him too, he doesn't feel as if mice are tickling him then. No, when you're around, all he can see is you. You who shines brighter than any gemstone his wealth could buy. You are not a prize to be won, he knows, but he wishes that the glitters of gold could woo you, make him your number one.

He feels so lost and it hurts, nights spent sobbing away.

Kalim, the name alone makes you smile. Someone who's kind despite all that he's faced, all the horrible people he's met- he still believes in the good of people. Some call it naivety, you call it 'a heart of gold'. Yes, he's sheltered, there's some things he's slow at, and he has flaws. Despite said flaws, he want to become better and you see him try every single day. You've seen how he makes everyone comfortable, always including anyone and everyone, how he's akin to a drop of sunshine. It's a rarity and you appreciate it greatly. Twisted Wonderland, it's new to you and things are difficult but when Kalim's there, things don't feel that difficult.

He doesn't look down upon you, he doesn't think you're weak despite having no magic, and he certainly never belittles you- others have and that hurt.

He's always up for some fun, but it always feels better when he can share the fun with you. Thus, flying carpet rides have become your nightly routine. There's a soft knock on your window every other night, a hand extended your way; calling you to live, be happy. You can't help but blush when the carpet takes off, his body huddles closer to yours and the moon seems tease you with how bright she is.

It's another night and he's come to pick you up to go see the Scarabia moon. You're sitting next to each other, the desert seemingly glowing underneath. The stars twinkle and you swear the breeze is cool on purpose, just so the both of you have no choice but to lean into each other. Hands intertwine, both of you looking the other way, cheeks red like cherries.

"I..I love you."

You fumble out on mistake, your breath hitching the moment you realize. His head whips towards you, garnet eyes appraising your blushing visage. A soft smile appears on his lips, his sun-kissed skin peachy with a blush of his own.

"I love you too."

He says eagerly, hands wrapping around you as he pulls you in. The moon looks bigger, the stars winking at you, and the scent of sandalwood engulfs you. A soft kiss is planted on your forehead, one that lingers. Like a pair of sea otters, you both hold the other's hand.

ᥫ᭡. Vil Schoenheit ᥫ᭡.

Center of attention, even the room's filled to the brim with pretty faces. Eye's the color of violets and a smile that's so striking, it could cut right through you. Just how a bright star commands everyone's admiration, Vil himself does exactly that. With beauty that's akin to a velvety rose, thorns sharp and drawing blood of the one who dares touch. He's not sure why he's so fond of you, really, it baffles him. Your constant babbling should bother him- your posture isn't perfect, you don't regularly use the products he recommends to you, and your diet could use improving.

He only recently realized the perfection of imperfection. That's what you are, like an abstract piece of art that can draw even the most elegant man's heart. Truly, you can take his breath and keep it, which is a difficult feat to accomplish. Yet, you seem to have done just that.

He doesn't like how drawn he is to you, the you who could improve so much. Nevertheless, he can't deny how his heart flutters when you ramble on and on, the words you spew seem like pearls to him. Undeniably, you've got his heart, and it bothers him.

Vil seems unreachable to you, as if he's a god and you're a follower. You can see him, but you can't touch. Everything about him is captivating- the way he moves, how he walks, how he talks, everything. You feel like a toad in front of him sometimes. Still, the reason your heart continues to flutter is not his beauty but how soft he can be. His words may be harsh, telling you to fix your posture or add a certain product to your skincare, but he means well. It used to irk you, how he pointed out your flaws, but he never touched an insecurity- it was never something you couldn't fix. Many times, he only tells you how to improve and that's in his nature. It started with you muttering curses under your breath, now all you do is give him a dopey smile as he flicks your forehead.

It's hard to love Vil, and you're sure that it's even harder to be loved by him. He's untouchable and you're not sure if he'll even spare you a glance. But, the nights you spend at his dorm, him tending to your skin as you blabber about your day. Or the few rarities when he opens up, speaking of his insecurities. It shows how human he is; how he too, can feel.

It's another night at his dorm, your skin's worsened as of late and Vil's ordered you to give him a visit. You sit at his vanity, the light's so bright that it could blind you, but what truly blinds you is Vil himself in all his glory. His dampened hair, the ends the color of wisteria, and the scent of patchouli just makes you want to melt right then and there. He strides over with a new product in his hand, carefully beginning to massage your face with it.

"I love you."

The words come out instantly, his hands stopping in motion as his violet eyes widen. A sheepish blush coats your face as you realize what you said. Your breath hitches, the fear of rejection drilling into your mind, and your heart drumming against your chest.

"That's quite bold of you, sweet potato.."

He lets out a small chuckle, eyes holding content. He leans closer before flicking you on the forehead gently.

"I love you too."

ᥫ᭡. Idia Shroud ᥫ᭡.

The buzz of video games, the stench on junk food, and an interest for oddities. Idia Shroud was a wallflower, yet you'd managed to befriend him, something he's truly grateful for- your presence. He liked you. You understood him, you never belittled him for what he enjoyed, in fact, you encouraged him to continue. No matter how good or bad you were at a game, you'd play alongside him. It didn't matter whether you enjoyed his rambles, you'd listen no matter what, before babbling on and on about something of your own interest. Nights like this, filled with games, reading manga, watching anime, and spending time with you- he never wanted these to end.

You were brave, so unlike him. You had no magic, still you managed to show courage, to fight against overblots. How he wished he was you, no, how he wished he was yours. The realization hit him like a truck in an isekai, quickly and out of nowhere. When he figured he liked you, he didn't let you anywhere near him for a week- opting to hide in his room and not leave. It took some convincing from Ortho and also the fact that you may dislike him if he ignored you, before he opened his doors for you once again. Nevertheless, he was skittish, averting his gaze from your face, and sitting on the other end of the couch when you visited. That worried you, you were sure you'd messed up big time and he became uneasy around you because of it. Thankfully everything became normal after two weeks, he was sure he wouldn't be able to recover.

The truth was, you liked him too. It was weird and something unforeseen, you both started out as friends- you'd visit his dorm, play games all night, munch on junk together, and then laugh at all the cringe characters in the current anime you both were binging on. Right now, you were experiencing that cheesy crush from a shoujo manga, and the feeling was messing with your brain.

The gloomy boy you pined for was everything but dreamy, somehow, that's what made him so charming to you. Hair an electric blue that flared up like flames, pale skin akin to porcelain, and eyes yellow like daffodils. His physicality was mesmerizing but there was so much more to his character too. He was passionate about what he enjoyed, jabbering on for hours about his interest, something that you didn't mind one bit. He was competitive, striking a triumphant grin whenever he'd win a game against you. He's prideful too, his creations making him an utter genius. At the same time, he held such emotion, a man who would never judge for he himself experienced the badmouthing of others.

There's just something about Idia, something that makes your cheeks flare up. You're not sure if he notices how his presence can make you skittish, how you become timid when he's near, and how divine he seems to you. He never notice how he makes you feel, how ironic that you become just like him when he's near.

Just like the usual, you're cooped up in his dorm alongside him. You've been binging an anime for the past few hours and the way he's so focused on the characters while you're so focused on him, it bothers you. He feels so close yet so far and the fact that you're having such thoughts about the whole situation, makes you feel stupid.

"I love you.."

You immediately pause at your own words, Idia pauses the show too. There's a long silence in the room and before you know it, Idia's moved far away from you. His hair's become an electric pink and his eyes are wide.

"W-w-w-what..!?"

He exclaims the words as if he's animated, the feeling of fluster surging throughout him. Were you playing a joke on him? This wasn't right, it couldn't be. His gaze averts the other way every time you look at him and he won't admit it, but he really hopes you're not joking.

"I love you, Idia."

You say again, softer this time and you yourself look the other way, peachy blush coating your face. You're cursing yourself for speaking up, palms sweaty and clammy. You feel dizzy and your breathing is erratic , the feeling's mutual. The room's silent again, no one says anything and the only sound either of you can hear is the buzz of the computer.

"I...I...I dove, no, love you too.."

He mutters out, fumbling his words while he does. You both look at each other, shy gaze. Your lips form a small smile, making Idia's hair flare an even brighter pink. His face is rosy and he'd rather not look at you but you're just so pretty that he can't help but look.

You're not sure how it things fell in place but he accepted your confession, and now you've somehow managed to cuddle up to him. He's stiff but that's fine, the mere fact that he's holding your hand tightly is enough to reassure you. That, and how smug he looks.

ᥫ᭡. Malleus Draconia ᥫ᭡.

Child of man, you truly are peculiar. Malleus Draconia, the name alone makes millions, if not billions, tremble to the bone. He holds such unrivaled power that the thought alone is fearsome- he is fearsome.

A monster, that's what many would call him, but you don't. No one dares approach him as carelessly as you do, a bumbling smile on your lips as you walk next to him without a care in the world. Do you truly not know what he's capable of? 'Tsunotaro', that's what you've named him- quite bold of you, not that he minds. Please continue to enlighten him about human practices, he's interested in every thing you have to say.

Loneliness is a disease that he's suffered from since his childhood. It's second nature to be alone with his own presence, silence a bandage that covers but doesn't heal his wounds. Yet, the way you come to him, invite him to all your little events, how you choose him. How can he be lonely when he has you?

You, who is so bright like a star coated in gold- is he even allowed to go near you? It feels as if you'll break in his hands, yet you seem so brave, putting yourself in danger with a smile. You've got his heart in your hands and it hurts that you don't realize.

'Friend' was a word he grew to love, knowing the special bond you shared. Nevertheless, it's the same word that has caused Diasomnia to have horrible whether for the past week- you're a friend to many but a lover to none. Be his, child of man, he's the only one worthy enough to call you his.

Since the day of his realization, Malleus follows you as a second shadow would. Now, no one with ill intentions would dare approach what he's already considered his. Truly, how precious you are. Giving him small shiny pebbles you find, trying to tuck daisies into his hair but being unable to reach his head, and the times you try to tease him as a joke, making the silliest of faces. Please tell him that he's the only one who has the honor of seeing you in such various forms. Dragons are hoarders, you know? And he wants nothing but to hoard you all for himself.

Spending time with your Tsunotaro is always fulfilling. His knowledge on gargoyles, the depth in which he speaks of them and how little he knows of human interactions. It all makes your heart flutter, eliciting a smile on your lips. It's not difficult to have feelings for someone such as him, it comes naturally. He seems so intimidating, dangerous even and it's not that he's not- he is, but there's so much more to him. He's curious, always listening to what you have to say. He's sweet, always handing you gifts whether small or unimaginably grand. And the manner in which he speaks, the elegance he holds, he's just as charming as any prince in a book- if not more.

When you began actually having feelings for him, all his words seemed to make your mind all fuzzy. Could he really not tell how his vocabulary affected you? 'My dear', 'my love', and all other forms of endearments had become a usual, so much so, that it felt right.

You went on walks with him, spotting gargoyles and chatting about them. Sometimes you drag him to picnics with and he happily follows, letting you braid his ebony hair. Still, not everything you shared seemed friend-like, and if it was, you didn't want it to be. The way his emerald eyes gazed over you, how his touch lingered so gently, and how his lips brushed agains your ear when he said he'll keep you safe. It couldn't mean nothing, you didn't want it to.

A walk in a meadow at nighttime, how strange, but also the daily for you. You walk alongside Malleus, skittish and timid- this isn't how you usually act. The moon's peeking out from under the clouds and casting a silver sheen on all that it lands on. Fireflies scurry around slowly, the cool night air making you feel at ease- but it's not enough.

Your face is flushed and you won't meet his gaze, he's not sure what he did wrong. His frame towers behind you as you seem to walk quicker, increasing your pace. Hurt, that's what he feels; did you start seeing him as a monster too?

You can't leave, please- he'll beg if he has to, give you all of what he has and can create. Promise you'll stay, and don't ever leave.

Then you pause, turning around as you take deliberate steps towards him. You look up, your smaller frame covered by his daunting shadow.

"I love you, Tsunotaro."

You say with a certain melancholy in your voice, as if you know he'll reject you and your love. How could he ever think of rejecting? He'd rather pierce his own heart and bleed to death than ever think of rejecting any of your words.

His viridescent eyes widen, the glow of them seeming intense. His hands holds you in place gently, he seems to be staring at you, looking you as if you're the most fragile piece of glass. The words don't spill out of his lips and you look more desolate by the second- he seemingly can't speak, he's not sure if this is but a dream.

"I love you too, child of man. So much that you wouldn't believe it."

His hands wrap you in a desperate embrace, almost as desperate as the words he'd just managed to choke out. It was as if you would wither away if he let go, as if he was making sure you were not a dream.

Your own eyes widen, lips parting shock at his words. The night seems magical and his embrace is sincere. He pries away from you only to look at you more, all your expressions- please continue to show such faces to only him. Only he should see you like this, with your face flushed red and eyes widened as you stare at him as though he's the only man in the world. His hands seem shaky, unlike who he usually is.

No, he seems so vulnerable and you seem to be his vulnerability.

Everything seems alright when you're there, he doesn't feel loneliness; far from it, actually. He doesn't feel like a monster when you love him, when your own arms loosely wrap around his neck as you pull him in for a soft kiss- no, monster's don't get such luxuries.

Note: If you enjoyed this, please interact with this post, my blog, and reblog! Any kind gestures are greatly appreciated! Thank you!

Note 2: Please reblog, even if you don't press like on the post. Reblogs help a ton more!

Note 3: I didn't expect the last part to get so much attention, thank you so much everyone. I greatly appreciate everyone's interactions with my posts! As of now, I'll be working on requests and maybe some other ideas! (I really hope this part 2 is good too)

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lovebugism · 4 months ago

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you’re writing for carmy now omg i’m frothing at the mouth 😭 i love the trope where reader is quiet in bed and needs to be coaxed a bit but… i feel like it would be kind of hot if reader was the one coaxing carmy? 👀 no worries if you’re not feeling this one!

ty for requesting! — you teach the bear how to use his voice in the bedroom (new relationship, inexperienced!carmy, experienced!reader-ish, smut 18+)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Carmy never notices when he’s quiet. His head is always so loud in comparison — it’s easy to forget he isn’t saying anything out loud when his mind’s constantly racing. He doesn’t mean anything by it, though. He’s just chronically observant. And painfully silent with it.

He lays on his back, pressed between unmade sheets and your warm body. The covers bunch at your bare hips as you roll in languid thrusts over his lap. A satiny summer breeze smooths over your burning skin from a cracked-open window. Every time the curtains billow, more of the moonlight peeks in. It drips in silver shades over your naked skin and your pretty face, now twisted in a look of undeniable pleasure — brows scrunched, eyes closed, mouth wide open.

Carmy’s tattooed hands rest impatiently on your hips. His fingers dig into the plush of them as he rocks you back and forth over his cock. You make pretty noises for him every time your clit brushes his coarse thatch of pubic hair, so he angles his hips just right to make sure you keep hitting that spot.

“Carmy,” you moan in a whimsical sigh that makes his chest swell. “Just like that. ’S so good like that. Please don’t stop—”

His face, made of dark shadows and sharpened edges, is pinched in a look of acute concentration. A distant feeling of deja veux swims in his stomach. It makes him wonder if he’s seen this in a painting before. One of those Renaissance types. The kinds that are harrowingly realistic and always heart-wrenchingly beautiful in a way.

It makes him want to draw you. Just as you are now. Head tossed back, mouth gently agape, lashes fluttering over glowing cheeks. He wouldn’t be able to do any of it justice, but he tries to memorize the soft lines of your face, anyway.

Your hips slow to a stop. Reality hits him hard.

“Woah, woah— Hey,” Carmy mumbles in protest, brows pinched in confusion when he comes down from the clouds. Through labored breaths that make his sweaty chest rise and fall, he wonders, “What happened? Why’d you stop?”

His icy blue eyes dart over your face, searching for any sign of harm. In true Carmen Berzatto fashion, he immediately thinks he’s done something wrong — that he got too far in his own head and hurt you in some way without realizing. The anxiety is fleeting, but he feels the pinch of it anyway — right where your palm rests flat on his chest, just over his pounding heart.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, similarly panicked. Your bare chest sparkles with a thin layer of sweat and catches the moonlight with every uneven inhale.

Carmy nods rapidly, chestnut curls brushing the pillow. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m— I’m great. Why?”

You exhale a small sigh of relief, growing sheepish under his unwavering gaze. You feel a bit silly for stopping now. “You just aren’t… You aren’t really, you know… saying anything,” you answer shyly.

��Am I supposed to be saying something?”

You giggle quietly to yourself until you realize he’s being genuine. Your smile ebbs as you stammer, “Well, no, it’s just— Some people usually moan, I guess— When they feel good.”

Carmy nods firmly in reassurance. “I feel good.”

“Okay…” you nod back, slower and more unsure.

“I promise,” he tells you, tattooed hands squeezing your sides. He shifts nervously on the mattress, similarly victimized by your adoring stare. “I just… I just like watchin’ you, I guess…”

A shy smile quirks the edges of your mouth as you peer down at the boy beneath you. “You’re sweet, bear,” you coo in a honeyed murmur.

“You’re sweeter,” Carmy insists. You think you see the faintest hint of a grin on his lips, but it’s hard to tell in the low light. “Wanna taste?” he teases a second later.

Wordlessly, you bend down for another kiss, far too chaste for his liking. He almost says something about it until you roll your hips again. The words of protest disappear when he inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Does that feel good?” you ask him.

He nods silently, squeezing your sides in a feeble attempt to move you faster on top of him.

“Tell me.”

“Feels good,” Carmy obeys through gritted teeth.

The subtle assurance makes you moan — a pretty, breathy thing that spills accidentally from your opened mouth. All he can think about is getting you to make that sound again.

“Do you like it when I talk to you?” he wonders aloud, very innocuously curious.

You nod, brows furrowed as you grind over his lap. The bed frame squeaks quietly when you roll your hips forward. When you roll them back again, he can hear the faint sounds of your wet pussy — the quiet schlick-ing of his cock fucking into you. The two noises play one after the other in rhythmic tandem. The sinful sounds of sex.

Carmy racks his head for something to say in the not-so-silent meanwhile. You watch him get lost in his mind and cup his cheeks between gentle palms. “Don’t think so hard about it, bear,” you say with a wavering smile. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.”

You duck down to kiss him again. The angle shifts. Carmy bends his knees and fucks up into you, mercilessly and without warning. Your mouth hangs open in another weak moan that fans across his chin.

“That good?” he pants.

“Yes,” you whine. “Carmy— fuck— You’re so deep…”

Babbles spill from your mouth in thinkless slurs. They tumble from your swollen lips with an admirable effortlessness, which Carmy has never thought himself to possess. He tries, anyway, to talk to you with such sinful ease.

“You’re huggin’ me so tight,” he mutters through a clenched jaw. The very first thought to come to mind as the velvet confines of your cunt pulsate around him, squelching quietly in time with his thrusts. “Can feel you throbbin’ around me, babe— Shit— It’s like a fuckin’ heartbeat.”

Your whine fills the quiet bedroom, adding to the symphony of bed squeaking and skin slapping.

Carmy shifts his hips upward. The new angle allows his cock to reach a spongy depth inside you and pins your swollen clit against his happy trail, which now glimmers with a layer of your honey.

“Right there?” he pants.

You nod wordlessly until the words catch up to you. The tip of your nose brushes the bridge of his. “Yes,” you whimper.

His brutal thrusts pick up pace a second later, never wavering in their wicked pursuit. “Let me hit that spot,” Carmy mumbles to himself like a man crazed. “Let me hit that spot, let me hit that spot.”

Pleasure swells within you, overwhelmingly so. It’s a warm and sparkling feeling in the pit of your stomach — a tightening coil, a fraying rope, a dam about to burst. The intensity of your inevitable orgasm frightens you.

“Carmy…” you whimper.

“I know,” he nods sympathetically, right before he plants his feet on the mattress. He strengthens his thrusts, which have slowly started to lose their rhythm. “It’s okay. C’mon. Cum for me— I can feel you fuckin’ drippin’ on me, baby— C’mon.”

Your jaw clenches to fight back the scream clawing at your throat. It comes out in a pitiful whimper instead when you tense over his lap. Your orgasm washes over you in waves that leave you shaking, thighs trembling on either side of his hips.

Carmy goes accidentally silent once more as he watches you, swelling with pride as you reach the height of your pleasure. His light eyes flit over your features in a feeble attempt to memorize them — the furrow between your brows, the wrinkles beside your shut eyes, the spit-slicked sheen to your kissed lips.

You’re painting brought to life. A heavenly thing he can’t believe he gets to touch with unworthy hands.

“That’s it…” Carmy murmurs lowly. The words bubble in his throat and fall from his mouth mindlessly. He doesn’t even have to think about them now. It just feels right to praise you like this. “That’s it. There you go. So pretty… Always so pretty for me.”

As your body racks with aftershocks, you seek refuge in his arms. Your weight rests entirely upon him as your tense limbs slowly relax, but Carmy doesn’t mind. He just wraps his tattooed arms around you and holds your trembling body closer.

“I got you,” he promises through labored breaths, chapped lips brushing your temple with every word. “I got you. ’S okay. You did so good for me, baby. Thank you.”

You don’t have the words to tell him that you should be the one thanking him.

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milunalupin · 20 days ago

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— bumblebee

james potter x reader ★ 328 words

“James, honey, you left your wand on the couch again!”

As you called out, your husband bounded down the stairs, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. He snatched his wand from the plush velvet cushions, then rounded the couch to plant a tender kiss on your cheek. “Thank you, bug.”

You gently pushed his face away, the scratchy polyester of his beard tickling your skin. “I’m not going back to the store to buy another if one of us accidentally sits on it.”

“But I got the last one that lights up!” he pouted, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He pressed the button on the wand, making the tip glow a vibrant green as he waved it playfully around the bee antennae perched on your head. You couldn’t help but smile at how silly you both looked—your black and yellow striped outfit, complete with wings, contrasting with his dramatic wizarding ensemble.

“Then be more careful,” you reminded him, extending your arms just as your little one came sliding down the hall in his fluffy gold onesie. “You too, Harry! I told you that costume is slip—”

Thud.

“WAHHHH!”

James scooped your sobbing toddler into his arms, cooing softly as he wiped away the tears and drool with the sleeve of his purple cloak. “Oh, my little lion.”

Your heart sank as you noticed the angry red mark forming on your son’s forehead. “Oh James, that’s going to leave a scar, isn’t it?"

“Afraid so, lovebug,” he sighed, gently bouncing your sniffling child to soothe him. “Guess we’re not going trick-or-treating anymore since you’re crying.”

“No!”

With determination, your toddler wriggled out of James’s embrace and shuffled over to his cauldron-shaped candy bucket. He looked up at you both, eyes wide and glistening, a small bump forming above his eyebrow. “I can do it.”

You exchanged a warm, amused glance with James, a smile breaking through the worry. “Alright, let’s go get some candy, my brave little lion.”

#marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #james potter #james fleamont potter #james potter x reader #james x reader #dad!james potter #harry potter

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 1 year ago

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One Piece Fairy AU 🧚‍♂️✨

Boys Will Be Bugs

This AU may or may not have been inspired by that ask i got the other day. It may or may not be. I will neither confirm nor deny.

Please dont comment or send asks or anything like that of what bugs other characters should be :) if i would like to crowd source, i will make a post about it! Thank you~

Here are the flat colors since some of the hues get drowned out in the lighting :)

- I tried to make them have all use different fabrics, leaves, lizard skin, furs. I dont know how to draw lizard skin but I did my best.

- It would be really cool if blue morpho butterflies were nocturnal, that way the lighting i put sabo in would make a little more sense. He was about to be a moth, but i thought the lore of him coming from nobility and butterflies typically being of nobility would be a cool detail.

Maybe he’s a butterfly that adapted to being nocturnal in spite… yeah….

- im glad i came up with the glowing freckles idea for ace. I dont think anyone could handle it if his ass glowed.

- i put luffy in darker colors and now he looks white 😭😭😭😭 when he’s next to sabo he’s a melanated king though. I also deepened ace’s skin tone so that the bright oranges stood out more. I think it looks just so good

- I dont actually have an idea of what a plot would look like in this au yet. I tried to make it ambiguous with not having ace and sabo interacting as adults. With a couple of my other au’s, i just had the plot mirror the canon one, but idk with this one 🤷‍♀️ i mean i can, but i like having ace not be dead 🤷‍♀️ ya know??🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

This was a fun little moment though, i hope yall enjoy :)

#my art #one piece #asl brothers #sabo #monkey d. luffy #one piece fan art #op fairy au #portgas d ace #pretty butterflies #asl au

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 2 months ago

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Imagine Sauron (Annatar) being unable to resist your allure as you work on the rings…

Distance. He repeated to himself. Although he did not understand why it was necessary when he chose to ignore the warning and step closer to you.

He had donned a new face with a new name - Annatar - but it did little to fade the pull he felt to you as ‘Halbrand’. As fate would have it, your journey drew you to Eregion to aid Celebrimbor with his crafts.

Or perhaps you were simply drawn to where Sauron would be?

A part of him longed to tell you the truth but he had a larger plan that relied on secrecy. He could not risk you speaking with Galadriel nor did he wish to cause you harm. And so, he chose to keep the knowledge to himself.

He watched as you picked up a glittering gold band forged for one of the dwarf lords. One of seven. Crafted by Celebrimbor, they were perfect. Touched by his hands, there would be malice and a darkness so deep-rooted.

But jewelled by your fingers? They would have enough light to remind him that not all he touches is true evil.

“Have you chosen a stone for this one?” He asked.

You inspected the fine craftsmanship. “Perhaps a sapphire.” You said rather distracted. He gave you a small musing hum and you turned to meet his eyes. “You disagree?”

“I merely think a ruby would complement this particular piece.”

“Do enlightenment me, Lord of Gifts.” You challenged.

He almost laughed at the offence you took. But he merely stepped behind and touched an elbow with one hand, raising it a little higher. His free hand caught your chin, fingers gently lifting your head to tilt upwards to see the gold band twinkle under a ray of sun.

It was intimate and he wrestled with his impulsive urges. To kiss you in this moment would be too easy. But again, he could not. All he could do was savour this moment with you.

“The sunlight catches the band casting it in a glow of power. A ruby would emphasize such a notion beneath the mountain.” He said, lips drawing impossibly close to your ear. He noticed the prickling of your skin and the way your breath hitched.

“Power kissed by sunlight.” You whispered, realising his vision. Head turning to his once more, he saw the way your eyes flickered to his lips for a fleeting second.

It appeared that the pull he felt was mutual, drawing you to him in equal strength. You were drifting closer and closer and-

“Wonderful news! We have just received word from the realm of Men.” Celebrimbor announced as he walked into the forge.

With a sharp breath, Sauron pulled away just as you had done the same. He took note of how you quickly busied yourself in the work once more.

Composing himself, he stood up and smiled at the ring maker who had not noticed the spark rushing for cover.

He should have been more careful.

“This is truly good to hear.” He told Celebrimbor and led the elf away from your workspace. “How soon can we extend an invitation for their visit?”

~ More imagines here ~

A/n: Written at 12am because I have no regard for waking early tomorrow for work. When the writing bug bites, you write.

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #rings of power imagine #rings of power x reader #sauron x reader #sauron imagine #halbrand x reader #halbrand imagine #annatar x reader #annatar imagine

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these-lovely-monsters · 2 months ago

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The Dragon's Pretty Treasure - Part 1

[NSFW | 18+]

Characters: m!dragon x f!reader

Content: kidnapping, mild dub-con, inhuman anatomy, size difference, two dicks, dp, tail action, fluids, koala bear fleshlight

(Note: part 1 is just the setup and only contains kidnapping - aforementioned cws are for the whole story)

Series complete: [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

Opening your eyes, you blink a few times, trying to adjust your vision to the darkness surrounding you. There is a faint glow that gently illuminates the space around you but everything else is mostly darkness and all you can make out are vague shapes and shadows. Looking around, you see that a small bit of light is coming from some embers in a dying fire next to you. This is definitely not your tiny studio apartment back home.

Where the hell are you?

As you sit up, you rub your eyes, groaning at the stiffness in your joints. From the aches in your muscles, you must have been asleep for a while. Looking down, you realize that you are lying on a bed of what seem to be soft furs or pelts of some kind. A cool breeze drifts in from somewhere and you shiver, realizing that you are also naked.

What the fuck happened?

But before you can try to rack your foggy brain to figure it out, a giant yellow eye the size of your head blinks open at the edge of the darkness across from you. Yelping in shock, you scramble backwards as the eye rotates to reveal a second one just as large and luminescent. Both eyes have giant slitted pupils and seem to glow in the darkness. Before you can get far, something smooth and cool wraps around your waist, holding you in place. Heart pounding in your ears, you glance down to find that it is a dark green, almost black, appendage covered in scales. Extending from the darkness, it winds around your stomach with the end coming to a tapered point near your navel. It squeezes gently, hard enough to hold you firm but not enough to hurt.

Holy shit, is it a tail of some sort?

Too terrified to move further, you hold your breath and look back up at the giant yellow orbs peering at you from the shadows. Slowly, they begin to draw closer, and you hear heavy, measured thuds echo off the walls. As the eyes approach the dying fire, a massive snout comes into view and then a head the size of a car follows. Your eyes bug as you take in the scaly surface of a face, with ridged brows and a line of spikes running in increasing size from the tip of its snout up and over the back of its head. Two large horns protrude from above its brows and curve backwards towards where you assume its shoulders would be.

When its snout is a few inches from your face, you tremble as its nostrils flare and it inhales deeply. Then it exhales with a low rumbling sound as its hot breath fans across your face, blowing strands of hair off your shoulders.

It’s…sniffing you!

You nearly jump out of your skin when a deep, inhuman voice booms through the cavern and you have to cover your ears from the sheer volume.

“You are awake.”

The voice continues to echo off the walls for a few moments and then silence settles again, apart from the monster’s deep rhythmic breaths and your pounding heart. Slowly, you lower your hands from your ears and realize, belatedly, that it hadn’t moved its mouth when it spoke.

Had it projected its voice or are you just going crazy? Probably just going crazy.

“Where…where am I?” you manage to stammer out.

“My cave,” it rumbles again, softer this time, as if it realized its voice was too loud.

Oh fuck, you are going to die here, cold and naked in this cave.

Beginning to hyperventilate, you start to struggle in the grasp of its tail.

“Please don’t eat me!” you shout.

You need to figure out a way to get out of here!

It lets out a low, chuffing sound, which must be a chuckle and says, “I don’t plan to eat you.” And before you know what’s happening, its jaws part slightly and a giant, tapered tongue slips between massive, razor sharp teeth and licks up the side of your neck.

Shit, this monster definitely wants to eat you.

“Why am I here?” you squeak, utterly terrified but trying to keep it talking in the hopes you can figure out an escape plan before it decides it’s done playing with its food.

“I wanted a pretty treasure for my horde.”

A pretty treasure?... Does he mean you?

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

I promise there will be smut in part 2!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Bonus: here is a size comparison if you're wondering just how big this guy really is...

#monster fucker #terato #monster x reader #monster x lover #monster #monster boyfriend #monster x human #these lovely monsters #dragon #tlm dragon #tlm stories #monster smut #m!monster #f!reader

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soulessjourney · 2 months ago

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Shattered Bonds

A/N: I'm back after a very much long needed break! Between starting a new job and graduating, things have been super hectic. So, why not come back with an angsty fanfic with Azriel? I also may or may not be working on the long-awaited part 2 of 'Exile'.

Paring: Azriel x fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: After being injured in battle, Azriel is consumed by guilt. But when you finally wake, you're confronted with the harsh reality that perhaps you were always replaceable.

Warnings: Violence, Language, hurt no comfort, Azriel lowkey is a dick, Injured Reader, Angst, Duel(ish) POV, Mentions of pregnancy

Death and smoke fill your lungs. A sticky substance clings to your skin, though at this point, you're unsure if it’s yours or someone else’s. Metal clashes against metal, and your hands sting from both the vibration and the rawness caused by gripping the sword's hilt. You pivot on your foot, turning quickly to keep up with your opponent, your blades moving at lightning speed. Then, you feel a foot slam into your stomach, sending you flying backward across the rough brick ground. The surface tears into your skin like tiny knives, shredding your clothes in the process.

You scramble to your feet, your eyes darting around for your attacker. Instead, they land on a blue glow and dark hair. Azriel. But before you can process this, a sharp pain stabs your side. Gasping, you turn and plunge your sword into your attacker, your eyes blazing with fury. You lock onto the wide eyes of your victim just as another sharp pain strikes your stomach. Looking down, you see something silver protruding from your abdomen.

Green wisps shoot out from you, your lip curling as blood dribbles from the corner of your mouth. You drive the sword deeper into him as he begins to gag, foam forming at the edges of his mouth. You watch as he collapses to the ground, clawing at his neck before eventually falling still. Staggering back, you wince at the ever-growing burn in your abdomen, the green wisps swirling as if seeking something.

You fall back against the crumbling building behind you, sliding down the wall as you tilt your head back, feeling the weight of your exhaustion. Your vision blurs, your mind hazy, as you clutch your stomach, finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. A red glow catches your attention, and someone sprints toward you, dropping to their knees, unsure hands hovering over your wound.

“Cassian?” Your voice is frail, barely a whisper. If your mother could hear you now, she’d be laughing in pure disappointment.

Cassian smiles down at you and gently brushes the hair from your face. “Hey there, Bug. Hang on for me, alright? Azriel is coming.” You smile at the nickname he gave you when you were younger, back when you had an obsession with ladybugs.

Nodding, you close your eyes and lean into him. “It hurts, Cass,” you mumble, wincing as you shift, trying to find some comfort.

“I know, I know. But you did such a good job,” he whispers, combing your hair back before pressing his hands firmly against your wound to stem the bleeding.

The world around you seems to darken, and you glance up to meet the eyes of your mate. Smiling weakly, you reach out to him. “Hey, Az,” you whisper as your eyes flutter closed. His horrified expression tells you everything—the wound isn’t something that can be easily fixed. In other words, it’s a "you might die" kind of wound. Joy.

Azriel looked pale, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes widened. He gently pulls you toward him, holding you close as his thumb strokes softly across your cheek. His gaze darts around frantically before locking onto Cassian.

“We need to get her back. She’s not going to survive. Let Rhys and the others know,” he says, urgency clear in his voice.

Leaning into him, you feel the comforting embrace of his shadows surrounding you. Your eyes grow heavy, and before long, sleep overtakes you.

Azriel paced around the room as you lay motionless in the bed. Every glance at you gnawed at his heart, guilt consuming him. His shadows hadn't left your side, hovering as if trying to heal you somehow. His pacing came to an abrupt stop when his brothers and Madja entered the room. Azriel didn’t miss the more somber expressions they wore, and even Madja's eyes seemed duller than before.

He turned to them, desperation shining in his gaze. “Well? What did Madja say?” he asked, his voice tight with anxiety. Cassian and Rhysand exchanged a look, as if communicating silently. Cassian nodded, then pursed his lips before facing Azriel.

“Well, there’s a chance Y/N could make it,” Cassian said gently.

Azriel felt as though his ears were ringing. A chance. Just a chance that you might wake up and survive. It wasn't a guarantee, only a possibility. His frustration boiled over. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Can’t we do something to wake her? If not, why did we even bring her back?” he spat, his shadows retracting toward him, draping over his shoulders like a dark cape.

Madja shook her head as she finished changing the dressing on your wounds. “We’ve done all we can, boy. It's her fight now. I suggest you stay here—if she wakes, the first thing she’ll want is her mate,” Madja said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “You need to be there for her, as she has been for you countless times.”

With that, she nodded to the brothers and quietly left the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

Azriel clenched and unclenched his fists, glaring at the ground. Cassian, already knowing what his brother was about to say, gently gripped his shoulder. “It’s not—”

“But it is my fault," Azriel snapped. "She wanted to stay behind and protect Feyre and the others, and I convinced her to come because I couldn’t bear to be away from her for so long. She was unsure of her skills, and I talked her into it. I’m to blame for all of this. I almost got my mate killed.” He spun, his gaze shifting between his brothers and you.

Rhysand sighed, pushing off the wall he had been leaning against. “Az, Cassian’s right. You can’t blame yourself for this. Y/N was already set on coming. She talked to me about it—she was worried about you and didn’t want to leave you stranded in battle while she stayed behind.”

Azriel let out a low growl, his siphons flashing, causing Cassian to tense. “Either way, I couldn’t protect her. And now look at her—she’s fighting for her life, and I don’t know if she’ll ever wake up.” He stepped closer to you, sinking into the chair beside your bed and gently taking your hand. “Just give me some time alone. I need to think while still being here for her,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on your chest, searching for any sign of your shallow breathing.

Cassian opened his mouth to respond, but Rhysand placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Silently, Cassian closed his mouth, turned on his heel, and walked out of the room, Rhysand following close behind. The door clicked shut, leaving Azriel alone in the deafening silence.

Azriel let his eyes trace over your face, as if committing every feature, every imperfection to memory. Gently, he ran his fingers through your hair and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve stayed by your side, like you asked. I shouldn’t have fought with you about it. You needed me, and I turned my back on you, and this is the result.”

He felt like a danger to you. Even if you survived, he believed he would only continue to put you in harm's way. You could never have a peaceful life with him. All he wanted was for you to be safe and happy, but he’d failed when it mattered most. You were his entire universe, and yet he couldn’t protect you. He had convinced himself that by staying by his side, you would never be safe—that he didn’t deserve you, not if it meant you ended up like this.

The door creaked open, and Elain poked her head in, glancing around. Stepping in, she cleared her throat softly. “Oh, Azriel, I didn’t realize you’d be here. I thought you were still with Madja and the others,” she said gently. Noticing his gaze on the moon lilies, she smiled and approached the table next to your bed. “Moon lilies. They were her favorite. For a while, I thought she was going to take over the whole garden with them. Luckily, I talked her into taking over the area by the pond. It’s beautiful with the flowers there,” Elain said, smiling down at you.

Azriel looked up at Elain, his expression unreadable. Letting go of your hand, he stood and cleared his throat. “Speaking of the flowers, I saw you loading the cart earlier. I assume you’re making rounds around Velaris to hand them out. Would you like some help?” he asked, his voice even.

Their eyes met, and Elain studied him for a moment, as if searching for the intent behind his offer. After a brief hesitation, she nodded and motioned toward the door.

You pace around the room, your leathers hugging you tightly. Nesta had spent hours wrestling with your hair, her shaky hands finally managing to braid it back. She’d have a fit if she saw the strands that had already fallen loose. Chewing on your nail, your gaze snaps to Azriel, who watches you from the bed. “I don’t know about this, Az. We still don’t know what I’m capable of. What if I hurt the wrong person?” you ask, your pacing quickening slightly.

Azriel huffs as he continues sharpening Truth-Teller. “Stop worrying so much. It’s war, Y/N. Accidents are going to happen. You can’t always prevent them. One day, you’ll have to face the reality of what you can do and accept it. I can’t always be there to shield you from the harsh truths.” His tone is sharp, and it brings you to an abrupt halt.

“I’m not asking you to shield me, Azriel. I’m asking you to be there if I lose control,” you push back, crossing your arms over your chest. Azriel tenses at the use of his full name.

Setting the dagger in his lap, he turns to face you. “And I can’t do that. My place is by Rhysand’s side, and you know that. I can’t abandon him just to keep you safe all the time. This is your chance to learn how to handle things on your own for once.”

A dry laugh escapes you, and you throw your hands up in frustration. “I never asked you to abandon him, Azriel! You were the one who insisted I come with you—especially when we don’t know what I’m capable of or that I can’t control these abilities yet. So, I’m sorry if I’m a little scared,” you say, your voice catching.

Azriel scoffs as he stands, gathering his things. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Y/N. And if not, just don’t die. We don’t need more problems weighing down the court.” His words hit you like a blow, leaving you speechless, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Taking your silence as an answer, Azriel turns his back and walks out of the room, leaving you standing there, staring at the door.

Your eyes snap open as a rush of air fills your lungs. Choking, you cough violently, feeling a hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles. Your body tenses at the unfamiliar touch, and you instinctively jerk back, putting distance between yourself and the unknown figure.

“Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s okay,” a familiar voice reassures. As your vision clears, you find yourself face to face with Cassian, his frown deepening at your reaction.

Relaxing slightly, you offer him a small smile and shift back into your original position. “Where’s Azriel?” you ask, noticing something flicker in his eyes, though you can’t quite identify the emotion. Maybe you weren’t fully awake enough to process it. Glancing around the room, you spot a few vases of dead flowers and a subtle change in the decor. Confusion clouds your face. “Cassian, how long have I been asleep?”

Cassian clears his throat, looking away as he gathers his thoughts. “It’s been about ten months,” he finally says.

It feels like a jolt of electricity surges through you. Ignoring his protests, you slide out of bed and limp toward the window. “Ten months? How—what—there’s no way,” you mutter, staring at your reflection in the glass. You turn your head from side to side, inspecting your appearance. Your face had slimmed significantly, and your eyes were slightly sunken. You still looked like yourself, but there was something off, something different. “Cassian, where is Azriel? Is he on a mission?”

Cassian sighs, running a hand over his face as he averts his gaze once again. “It’s better if I show you rather than tell you,” he mutters, glaring toward the door. “Get cleaned up, and once you’re ready, we’ll head downstairs,” he says, moving to sit on one of the couches. “I’ll wait here. Take your time.”

Nodding slowly, you turn toward the bathroom and walk in to bathe. You were somewhat clean, but it was clear they had only managed to wash the areas they could reach with a small towel. At least they had taken care of you, in some way. Stepping into the bath, you sink into the water, staring blankly at the wall. Ten months. You had been in that state for ten months, leaving your family to wait and worry.

Your thoughts drift to Azriel. Why hadn’t he been there when you woke? Why did the other end of the bond feel so empty and cold?

Sucking in a deep breath, you tug on the bond, holding it tight as you wait for a response. But when none comes, your heart clenches. Panic sets in as you hurriedly finish bathing and dressing. Throwing the door open, you face Cassian. “Has something happened to Azriel? Is he alright?”

Cassian lets out a dry snort and stands. “Yeah, something happened,” he mutters, offering you his arm. Taking it, you shoot him a confused look as the two of you walk together. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.”

As you and Cassian descend the stairs, the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and silverware fill the air. A soft smile tugs at your lips as you step into the room. Mor is the first to notice you, her eyes brimming with tears as she suddenly stands and rushes toward you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Please don’t tell me this is a dream,” she rasps, clinging to you.

You and Mor had always been like sisters. Growing up surrounded by the boys, her arrival in your life had been a blessing.

“It’s not a dream,” you whisper, hugging her back just as tightly. But after a few moments, you feel Mor tense, as if she suddenly remembered something. She pulls away, giving you a sad smile that only deepens your confusion. As you look around the room, everyone avoids your gaze, though a palpable tension hangs in the air, laced with something like anger.

Your eyes shift between them, trying to understand, until they finally land on Azriel. He sits frozen, fork midair, eyes wide, body rigid. Next to him, Elaine quickly looks away, nervously biting her lip—a habit she had whenever she felt guilty about something.

“Azriel?” you call out, your voice trembling slightly. The sound of his name seems to snap him out of his stupor, and he drops his fork, spilling his drink onto Elaine’s lap.

Elaine stands abruptly, and your eyes widen in shock. Before you, a very pregnant Elaine rises, her hand instinctively resting on her belly. Your gaze travels downward, catching the glint of a ring on her finger. “You and Lucien finally made it official?” you ask, a smile breaking across your face. “I’m so happy for you!” You laugh, but the sound dies quickly when you notice everyone else’s glances shifting toward Azriel.

That’s when you see it—something you had somehow missed before. On his finger, where he once wore the engagement ring meant for you, sits a wedding band, one that matches Elaine’s.

A chill runs down your spine as your eyes snap back to his. The room feels suddenly colder, and you feel the ground give way beneath you.

“No…” you whisper, your vision blurring as the weight of it all crashes down on you.

The ring on your finger suddenly felt like it was searing into your skin, and you blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears from falling. "This is a joke, right? Some sick prank you both decided to pull?" When silence met your words, the rage inside you began to swell, and your breathing quickened. "So you’re telling me that while I was fighting for my life, you were out here screwing Elain, and somewhere along the way, you got married—and the best part? She’s pregnant?"

Something snapped inside you, and from the corner of your eye, you saw green wisps materialize, curling around you like tendrils of raw power.

Rhysand stood abruptly, and Cassian shifted closer to Nesta, instinctively protective. “Y/N, you need to breathe. I understand you're angry, but this isn’t the place to test your abilities after being asleep for ten months,” Rhysand said, trying to calm you.

You shook your head, fists clenched. “You want me to calm down? My supposed mate left me to rot in that room, just so he could chase after Elain. He abandoned me and every promise he made! I didn’t ask to be in that room—I didn’t ask to get hurt. So why should I bow down to your request when the real traitor is right here in front of all of you!”

With a final burst of fury, a smoky green tendril shot out, aimed directly at Azriel and Elain. His shadows barely blocked the blow. Elain screamed, curling in on herself to protect her stomach, while Azriel staggered back, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions surging through the bond. The betrayal, the hurt, the rage—all of it hit him like a wave, causing him to drop to his knees, gasping for breath.

You stepped closer, looming over him, and pulled the ring from your finger, letting it fall to the ground in front of him. Azriel picked it up without hesitation, his eyes wide with guilt.

"Don’t look at me like that, Azriel. It makes you look pathetic," you spat. "You chose this the moment you left me in that room to chase after Elain. After 200 years together, I was never going to compare to her, even as your mate. You’ve made it clear, Azriel—I’m replaceable."

You took a step back, but Azriel’s hand shot out, catching yours in desperation. “Y/N, you don’t understand—you can’t do this. Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded, his voice broken, his face twisted with regret.

Seeing him on his knees, begging—it made you feel sick.

You pulled your hand away, standing tall as the green tendrils swirled and coiled around you, making you seem larger than life. "I can, because you left me to die the moment you chose Elain over me. You made your bed, Azriel—now lie in it. Don’t bother looking for me, because if you do, I’ll do everything in my power to destroy you."

With those final words, you turned and walked out, leaving behind your family, your home, and every happy memory you once held dear. All that was left was anger and a thirst for vengeance.

A/N: I do hope you guys enjoyed! It may not be the best after a long time away, but I figured it was a great way to finally make my comeback after so long!

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2tcs · 4 months ago

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day 1: camping and candle

“Ugh. Why are we doing this again?” Danny complained as he watched his dad pull supplies out of the GAV.

“Well, your dad and I agreed that everyone has been a little too stressed. What with the ghosts destroying part of the school and your father and I's recent slump.” Maddie absently replied as she began clearing a spot for the fire pit.

“Besides Danno. This gives us the perfect opportunity to try out the new and improved Fenton Anti-ghost Tent.” Jack shouted as he put a glowing box on the ground and pressed a button on the side that caused it to fold out into what could only be described as a family-size carnival tent.

“Hay Jazz?”

“Ya Danny?”

“Please tell me you packed the actual tent.”

“Yes. I even managed to buy a box of MREs in case Mom and Dad brought contaminated food again.”

“A week of MREs. Yay. Well, we might as well get our side of camp set up 'cause I am not sleeping in that.”

��🦇👻🦇

“Come hi everyone this is going to be fun. Think about it! Tents, roasted marshmallows, campfire stories. This will be awesome.” Dick said as he jumped out of the van and started unloading camping supplies.

“This is a survival training exercise, Richard. Not a family bonding trip.” Damian said as he looked at the single-family size tent that Dick had packed.

“For once I agree with Damien. This is not what I would consider “fun” or “awesome”.” Tim said as he set up his laptop to finish his report for the next WE project that is due next week.

“I just want to know how the hell I got roped into this.” Jason grumbled as he started picking up stones for a campfire ring.

“Come on guys. This is as close to family vacation as we have been able to get in, like, ever. Let's make the most of it and have some fun.” Dick pleaded with them. “You agree with me, right Duke?”

“I mean. Except for you and Damien, we're all city kids. But I guess it could be fun.” Duke hurriedly added on as he saw Dick start to pout. “Yeah, yeah. Well, I ain't setting this up myself. Duke help me with these rocks. Tim helped Dick set up the stupid tent. And Damien you got the most experience in survival training. I need you to go through and scout the area and pick up wood for this fire.” Jason said while ignoring Dick's happy dance at his family getting along and helping each other.

🦇👻🦇👻

“Come on Danno! How can you protect yourself from ghosts if you don't put on the Anti-ecto Spray?” Jack asked as he followed Danny as he gathered wood for the fire.

“We're in the middle of the forest, Dad. All we have to worry about out here is bugs and bears. And we have a spray for both already.” Danny argued.

“He's right Dad. Besides you have that Ecto Shield that will be covering the camp once everything is set up for the night.” Jazz said, watching as her dad pouted and walked over to their mom.

“Madds? You'll put on the Anti-ecto Spray won't you?”

“I'm sorry dear. But you know that stuff causes my skin to rash. I think I might be allergic to something we used in it.” Maddie said as she pulled out a dutch oven and some baking supplies. “Here honey, why don't you go and make some fudge? I know how much you like your campfire fudge.”

“Campfire fudge is pretty good. But we're going to need more firewood if we're going to bake.”

“I got it Dad.” Danny said, taking off into the woods in a desperate attempt to get away from all the anti-ghost stuff.

“That's my Danny Boy! Always eager to help out. Make sure you get some good size logs too!”

“I’ll go with him. For the buddy system.” Jazz said as she began to walk in the direction Danny had run off in.

👻🦇👻🦇

“Tt.”

“Don't Tt me. A dutch oven is an essential if you are going camping.” Jason said as he checked to see if the water was boiling before moving the pot back over the fire so that the water in it could stay hot.

“It is cumbersome and will weigh us down if we must move quickly through the woods.” Damian huffed.

“Well, it's a good thing we aren't going to need to move quickly through the woods. Now here's a knife and some potatoes. They've already been washed so now they just need cut up.”

“And what makes you think I will help you cook?”

“For the same reason that Tim is cutting up veggies and Duke is cutting the vegan turkey sausage. If you want to eat. You need to help.”

“Richard is not helping.”

“Richard would burn the forest down if we let him do anything more than roast marshmallows.”

“Hay! I'm not that bad.” Dick whined from where he was still struggling with the tent.

“August 26th, 2010.” Tim deadpanned as he put the veggies into the oven.

“Okay. That's not fair Tim.”

“Um. What happened in 2010?” Duke asked before they were interrupted my a loud explosion to the east of them.

“Put a pin in that Glowstick. I think we should check that out.” Jason said as he put the lid on the pot and moved it away from the fire before Tim quickly grabbed the bucket of dirt they had and smothered the fire with it before taking off towards the sound.

🦇👻🦇👻

“What the hell was that!” Danny yelled as he dropped the sticks he was carrying and ran back towards camp.

“I don’t know! Just run!” Jazz shouted back as she pulled out her collapsible creep stick and tossed Danny the laser lipstick.

By the time they broke through the brush, they saw the camp in chaos. The new tent was trying/failing to eat Jack and Maddie was fighting the ecto lights.

“I kinda want to let them suffer.” Danny said as he deactivated the lipstick. Only to sigh as a group of four men ran into the clearing and began to try and help.

“I don’t think that’s an option anymore.” Jazz commented as she watched the human tank shoulder-check their dad to get him out of the way while a tall slender man expertly climbed the poles of the tent to get to the power switch that was at the top of the tent for some reason.

“I don’t know Jazz. They seem like they're doing a good job.” Danny replied as the shortest and skinnyest of the group tried to help Maddy with the lights.

“I’ll get the lights. You get the tent.” Jazz sighed before taking off and using the creep stick to tangle the lights and yank them out of the portable ecto-battery that their parents brought with them. Danny in the meantime ran to the GAV and climbed on top to give him a clear shot at the off button seeing as the tent was moving too much to climb. One clean shot and the tent folded in on itself, back into the box it was that morning.

“Danno! Jazzypants! Good job!” Jack shouted as he scooped both kids into a hug.

“And thank you to you four as well. It’s clear you have had training but you should really leave the ecto fighting to the professionals.” Maddy addressed the young men who had come over to make sure everyone was okay.

“Ecto fighting? Lady I don’t know” The tank asked as he crossed his arms.

“What my brother means to say!” The one who tried to climb the tent interrupted. “Is that we’re from Gotham so are kinda used to having to fight. I’m Dick by the way. This is my brother Jason. Tim is the one who is currently investigating the tent box? And Duke is standing next to him. And last but not least this is Damian!”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you all! I’m Jack! That’s my lovely wife Maddie, and these are our kids! Jazz and Danny!”

“You were quite adept with your baseball bat. Have you ever thought about training with a bo staff?” Damian asked Jazz.

“It’s actually what I was originally trained in when Mom was training me how to fight.” Jazz said while straightening her hair once Jack put her and Danny down.

“If you want honeybun I can make you a new bo staff when we get home. It would offer more maneuverability during a ghost fight.”

“Ghost fight?” Tim asked as he and Duke walked over to the little family.

“Ya! Me and Madds here are ectobiologists!” Jack excitedly said before Jazz took the wind out of his sail.

“It doesn’t really matter what we are right now. The FAT completely wrecked the camp. The GAV and the MREs are okay but we’ll probably have to move camp or go home.”

“I saw an old cabin to the west of us with some candles and stuff not far from here when I got the first batch of firewood. We could stay there and leave some of our supplies in exchange for anything we use.” Danny chipped in.

“Hay! I think we passed that on the way here! Maybe we can all camp together! Safety in numbers you know?” Dick suggested as he bounced on his toes.

“That’s a great idea! How about you boys gather your camp and meet us there!” Jack cheered before he ran off to pack the GAV back up.

“Danny dear. Can you go with them and mark a trail to the cabin for us? Here’s some orange ribbon to tie to the trees.” Maddy said before ushering Jazz off so that Danny could “hang out with boys his age.”

“So,” Danny said as he started down the trail. “Gotham huh?”

“Yup. Where are you from?” Dick asked.

“Amity Park.”

“The most haunted place in the world?” Tim asked as he pulled out his phone and began typing.

“Sounds interesting.” Duke said only for Danny to through his head back and groan loudly causing the siblings to look at each other.

“Yes, it's haunted. No, I would not recommend going. The government already has it’s nose in it. And even though my parents didn’t recognize a group of Wayens doesn’t mean I didn’t. We do not need that kind of publicity.”

“Fair enough.” Jason shrugged while leaning over to look at Tim’s phone.

“Let’s just get this done.” Danny grumbled trying to walk ahead of the group.

“We’re totally going to investigate this aren’t we.” Duke whispered when Danny was far enough ahead.

“Tt. Obviously Thomas.”

~~~~~

An hour late but I think I did it. Hope everyone enjoyed it!

#dpxdc #dpxdc event #dpxdcfamilyweek24 #day 1: camping and candle

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januaryembrs · 5 months ago

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tea!! anything bugsy and spencer

the one with the surfboard | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

description: there's only one person who could ever get Spencer Reid in the ocean and that's Bugsy

length: 1.6k

warnings: mention of sex, swearing, Penelope and Reid being thirsty for Morgan and bugsy. Pen calls Derek chocolate thunder but this is nothing new! set at beginning of season six.

part of the trouble almost all my life universe

Spencer settled his feet into the warm sand, trying his hardest to make sure the grain didn’t stick to the thick layer of suncream he’d applied not even five minute earlier, his sunglasses hanging on his nose as he watched Morgan and Bugsy hit a ball to one another over an invisible volleyball net.

“You not going to take a swim, pretty boy?” Emily asked, basking on her back in a red bikini, soaking up the sun they rarely got so clearly stuck in their office. His face scrunched up, shaking his head until he remembered Emily had her eyes closed, and it only took one look at where JJ was laying incredibly still to know she’d already dozed off on the sun lounger.

“One litre of ocean water has about one billion microbes of bacteria and around ten billion viruses, so,” He shuddered, his lithe fingers gripping the arms of the chair as he tried not to think about every single one of them entering his mouth if he were to even get close enough it could spray on his face, “No thankyou,”

“Not even if Bugsy asked you?” Penelope pointed out, a sex on the beach she’d ordered with a giggle and a ‘if Morgan gets lucky.’

His lips twitched, feeling his neck grow hot in a way he told himself was just the sun, and he glanced at the technical analyst with something fleeting, “She did ask me, I told her the exact same thing I’m telling you guys,”

“And?” Emily asked, sensing that hadn’t been the end of the conversation because her sister knew exactly how to get her way when it came to men, Spencer specifically.

Rubbing under his nose with his knuckle, Spencer downcast his eyes to the beer Bug had handed him, sand sticking to the green, frosted glass as the liquid bubbled freshly inside the bottle, “She said I owed her an hour of fun,”

Penelope’s face lit up at the innuendo of it, nudging him lightly with her shoulder, “Hell yeah, you’re such a stud, Reid. An hour?”

Emily winced in grotesque, “That’s my sister you’re talking about there, Pen. A sister is very much present here,”

The blonde shrugged, sipping through her pineapple decorated straw, “Not my fault you have a hot sister, Prentiss,”

“Can we stop talking about this? Please?” Spencer floundered, his fingers wrapping over the edge of the seat, his jaw tensing as the words hot, hot, hot, smeared all over his brain like a stamp. And everything he’d tried to deny for months bit at his neck so much so he was quickly fiddling with his shirt collar.

“Agreed,” Emily seconded, taking a long drink of her mojito, and Penelope saw it as a chance to lean in close to him, a smirk on her clementine scented lips.

“Don’t you think watching the two of them play together is like something out of Baywatch,” She murmured, her eyes locking on the two agents that seemed to be on their longest streak yet judging by all the laughing and shouting going on in between hits.

Spencer had never tuned into Baywatch, nor did he have any intention of doing so. But he did have to admit that watching Bugsy jump around in the ocean, her hair clasped back in a claw clip away from her face, her skin practically glowing from the vitamin D both on her face and on her obscenely beautiful body that was free to see in those bikini shorts and mini top, was more captivating than any tv show he could imagine.

He swallowed, shaking his head, “I think you spend too much time with Derek,”

Penelope held her chest in mock offence, her glass empty in her hand as she looked at him with teasing eyes, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that, Reid. There’s no such thing as too much chocolate thunder time.”

Spencer smirked, chuckling to himself and he barely even noticed the two people that were the hot topic of conversation had left the sea until a plastic, bouncy ball went hurtling at Emily’s forehead and rebounded clear off her hairline.

“FUCK,” The woman cursed, opening her eyes where a few rogue droplets of sea water dribbled down her cheek, her peace and serenity completely wiped away where her little sister stood with a hidden smirk, Derek biting his knuckle to hide his laugh, “You fucker, what was that for?”

“Just making sure you hadn’t cooked alive, you looked very still,” Bugsy held her hands up in innocence, even though Emily stood with a vengeance, rolling her eyes at the cheeky grin she got back.

Emily muttered something about her being a childish shrew, before she huffed, shoving past her sister and heading towards the beachfront bar, Derek and Penelope in tow. Which left the two of them, and a sleeping JJ, on their tiny corner of the beach.

“You sure you don’t want to come in?” Bugsy asked, trails of salt water sliding off her hair and down her stomach, the sight of them making Spencer’s mouth dryer than the sand beneath them, “I saw a jellyfish, or at least I think it was, it may have been a condom,” Spencer gagged inside his mouth with an incredulous look on his face, and she chuckled, dropping the ball to his feet, “Relax, I’m kidding. I’m going back in if you want to join, promise I won’t splash you or nothing,”

“I’m good, you go have fun with your new pal; the condom,” He said with a grossed out pull of his lips, though he smiled when she did and she grabbed the surfboard stuck in the ground beside him, trotting off back towards the ocean, “Remember to reapply soon!” He called, and she flicked a look over her shoulder.

“You're as bad as Emily,” She yelled back, taking off towards the waves with a chuckle, the sea breeze blowing tiny shrapnels of sand against her calves.

Spencer shamefully felt his eyes drop to her butt, and as fast as he did, he looked away, because that was supposed to be his best friend. She’d certainly never made it seem like they were going to be anything else. Perverts watched pretty girls running, perverts watched how their skin lit up with the rays of lights bouncing off the water and their hips swung with every step, and he wasn’t a pervert.

He was just… human. And who could ever resist her.

He watched the sea spraying out beneath her feet as she ran right in, and she waded out deep enough that he lost sight of her stomach, the board skirting the surface of the water for a moment.

She was possibly the coolest person he’d ever met, and she was his best friend.

He watched her hop up onto her stomach, keeping an eye on the horizon for a big enough wave rolling in. Deciding on an incoming ripple gradually gaining traction, she paddled out towards it, her arms strong and focused from what he could see where he was sat, nursing his bottle of beer.

“Baby Prentiss got moves,” Morgan whistled as they returned back with drinks cold enough Spencer saw the condensation gathering on the glass already, though that was the only time he actually tore his eyes away from her as she got further away from the safety of land, the black band attaching her ankle to the board the only thing he could really see of her.

“She talked some bar boy into teaching her the Summer she spent in Mexico with my mom,” Emily shook her head as they watched her jump up into a steady stand, the rip gathering under her surfboard and soon she was floating over the water, the concentration evident on her face as she held her arms out to balance.

She went a few more times, the group settling into the quiet they had whenever she was busy, because she was not exactly known for her calm nature, yet Spencer’s eyes were the only ones glued to her figure the entire time, ever the worrier when it came to her daredevil side.

And it was like he was watching it in slow motion; on her fifth turn riding a particularly quick rip her balance got thrown off. Nothing serious, it was only a few ten yards out offshore, and she was a strong swimmer, he’d seen it. She quickly lowered herself back into a straddled sit, only for the wave to gain traction before it fizzled out, crashing into the side of her board right as she was about to take a breath, and he watched her flip sidewards into the water, the tide bringing her close enough he knew she’d be able to stand.

But she didn’t come up for a few moments, and it was enough that Spencer was out of his seat, taking off jogging towards the ocean, every statistic that had been whizzing through that big brain of his about how filthy the water was suddenly evaporating as he watched her throw a hand up to the surface, her board skirting above her being the only pointer for him where to go.

By the time he made it over to her, he was knee deep before he thought of the consequences, the cold hitting him like a freight train, and she was already dragging herself towards land on her hands and knees, her hair stuck to her face, her claw clip ripped out by the current.

“Are you okay?” He asked, but she didn’t respond, only to cough up sea water with a screwed up expression that told him just how horrible it tasted.

“I need a beer,” She wheezed, as he lifted his hands under her arms, tugging her to her feet, his entire torso getting drenched as she clung onto him for safety, still spluttering ocean out of her lungs.

And he shook his head with a smile, brushing her hair back enough for her to see, her eyes sore and red with angry blood vessels where he imagined it stung to get the salty water in them, and all but dragged her back up the rest of the beach where Derek and Emily were laughing at her fail so hard they’d woken JJ up.

“Yasmine Bleeth never ate seawater, Bug, what happened?” Morgan jeered, earning him a middle finger to the face as Penelope offered her a nice big gulp of a margarita to clear her taste buds.

And for the first time all day, Spencer wasn’t even thinking about how much bacteria was all over his skin if it meant she was alright.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader

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yaespook · 1 year ago

Text

Run 4 - In Progress.

✧ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Android! Wanderer, no gendered terms used for reader, no actual penetration, unhealthy obsessive and possessive relationship from Wanderer, memory manipulation. Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: If possible, use the InteractiveFics extension to change the phrase “My name” (without the quotation marks) to the name given to your Wanderer.

There’s an unfamiliar android sitting atop your worktable.

You must have picked him up two or three weeks ago, when he was still worse for wear. In your memory, he was in pretty bad shape when the two of you first met, his main panel wrenched open leaving his circuitry a mess and rough scrapes all over his superficial layer.

Now, with your constant repairs, he’s been more lively, tailing you around the house as you go about your day. While fussing about, dusting off a muzzle laying on a fur pelt, you sense a presence lingering outside your room.

"You know, I don't recall androids being quite so clingy." In return, you get a light huff from behind the door frame.

"And you’ve come across other androids? I didn’t know you run a junkyard here,” the eye roll in his tone is audible.

His feet pad into the room and his gaze hones in on the clerical collar placed on a nearby shelf, glaring at it. Clicking his tongue, he crosses his hands on his chest.

“Whatever, what you do is mostly up to you anyway. Do you think you’re almost done cleaning? I think there’s an internal problem again, I’ll wait for you at the worktable,” the android saunters off nonchalantly, throwing you a light wave over his shoulder.

Sighing, you quickly finish up your task at hand before complying to his request, briskly making your way over to the worktable where he's already perched smugly on, his gaze expectant.

You easily go through the rehearsed motions of plugging him up to your computer, your muscle memory kicking in as you boot up the required softwares before gingerly prying the main panel located on the front of his torso to gain access to his internal workings. Over time, you've gradually figured out the parts that make up the android sitting before you, growing used to the sight of the lengths of wiring and cables running throughout his body, the faint low mechanical whirring of motors and cooling systems.

Most importantly, you now understand how sensitive his central core is. Nestled securely in a latched transparent casing, his core is what powers and sustains him. It emits a constant turquoise light and is also reflected in the glowing markings that lay beneath his synthetic skin that occasionally activate. (Although, you haven't quite gotten an answer for what makes them light up yet.)

“So what's your problem today?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from him as you go over to your computer to check if any bugs have been identified.

“I think that cable all the way at the back came undone and got tangled with the rest.”

You shoot him a pointed look, “Again? Didn’t we just fix that same cable last week?” Shifting your chair so you’re seated before him, poised to conduct your repairs, you make a passing remark, “Maybe taking you to another mechanic might be the better choice, get everything checked out, you know?”

How long have you kept at your task of finally fixing him up to tiptop condition? It’s almost daily when he reports back to you with a new disconnected wire or another loose joint somewhere on him. Diligently, you’ve been trying to repair him but the android is like a never-ending to-do list. And it’s only natural to be concerned if the constant damage stems from a more serious underlying issue that you haven’t managed to discover. The only next logical step would be to get another pair of eyes to help discern the root cause in case anything takes a turn for the worse.

But the reaction you get from him is one unexpected. His head snaps to face you, a scowl evident on his face.

“So you’re handing me off like an unfinished project to someone else now?”

You know how snippy he can get however, this is on a different level from his previous behaviour. Maybe something left over from the days before you found him. It’ll be a good idea to look into his past logs to diagnose any present problems, you make a mental note of it.

“I’m just worried for you, that’s all. What if there’s an urgent issue I can’t fix alone? And we both know I can’t leave you as is.”

His expression mellows to an annoyed pout, looking away as his core glows faintly along with the patterns under his skin, he mumbles, “I’ll be fine.” (“I just need you.”) (“I'm the only one for you.”) (“No one else deserves you.”)

He allows you to work without another complaint, silently watching as your hands venture into his chest, a focused air to you while you look for the problematic cable. He senses your touch when you make contact with it, sucking in a sharp breath as you grip it between your fingers, twisting it around to free it from the surrounding wires before you finally connect and plug it into its rightful place.

“That’s it for your cable issue. Anything else?” He quickly shakes his head.

Giving it a few light cursory pulls to make sure it’s finally secured, (if you weren’t mistaken, his core brightened in time with your tugs), you spare the rest of his parts one last look over. Then, shutting the panel, you unplug him from the computer.

Immediately, he scampers off the worktable with a clipped “thank you” and runs into his room. You hear the door to his room close before its lock clicks.

The next few days prove to be better, the repair requests for any troubles that seem to have cropped up overnight growing more and more infrequent. Perhaps, bit by bit, the end of the repairs start to come into sight.

Although, you have noted that his internal temperatures have been hiking recently whenever you have his chest panel open to patch him up.

This time, you have him lying on the worktable on his back to access the further areas in him. He’s positioned facing upwards but his eyes are darting everywhere, unable to meet your gaze. Once again, the programme open on your computer screen shows how his temperatures are quickly rising even though there are no obvious reasons for such a sudden change. It records the recurrence into its troubleshooting log like before, more times than you can remember.

He’s panting lightly, the android’s chest moving up and down as your ears pick up the sound of his inner fans whir louder, his pre-programmed functions activating to try to cool him down. With no clue as to what could cause this issue, you reach in to look for a fault. Yet, the more you poke and prod around, the higher the warmth within him rises.

Left with more questions than answers, you turn to his core for a closer look. When your fingers brush against the transparent casing, a moan slips out from him, and instantly his head whips to look at you dumbfounded.

An artificial blush takes over his face, a low pink glow blooming from beneath the synthetic layer. A beat passes before he cracks his lips apart, voicebox working as he pleads.

“...Again.”

Gently, you let your fingertips dance over the clasp hinging the casing shut and his response is instant. A shudder rolls through him, as real as it can be, and a shaky exhale leaves him. The android’s back arches up slightly, hastily chasing after your touch when you remove your hand.

Your caress returns when your hand dips deeper into his circuitry, where you hook two fingers underneath his thicker cables, attentively stroking them between your thumb and fingers, before tugging on them forcefully enough to elicit a reaction from him.

His eyes fly open at your ministrations, a greed for more overtaking his processors. You’ve always been so gentle with him when he’s opened up for you, when you have access to the deepest parts of him, when he’s at his most vulnerable. So, to have you toy around with him, show him the indulgence of human flesh, can you really fault him for falling for you?

The tips of your fingers ghost along the length of his metal spine, and the android keens from under you.

“Please, more, I can take it!”

Taking his cue, your hand encircles his spine, grinding the heel of your palm against the ridges of the sensitive metal elements as you pump up and down.

“Sss- so good! Hah…!” He can’t control how he behaves when you treat him so well, like he’s the only one worthy of your attention. He shakes under your touch, trembling as the addictive pleasure overrides his programmed commands.

“No more blubbering, just focus on me.” Your other hand goes to cup his chin, and obediently, he parts his lips for you, allowing you to slip your thumb into his mouth. You can feel his tongue work and when you press down, he jolts suddenly. A gag reflex? In an android? How amusing.

When you stop stroking him, he whines pitifully, muffled moans and begging for you to continue but his complaints stop when he feels you unlatch the lid of his core casing.

“Would you let me?” And the flurry of nods from him confirms his enthusiasm.

With bated breath, he counts the seconds before you make contact with his core. And when he senses your caress on his glowing core in his exposed chest cavity, he breathes out a gasp, as if he requires the intake of air. None of this is written into the basis of his behaviour, not fed into the dataset that makes up how he’s supposed to act, so everything he feels for you must be real.

His eyes go unfocused as his neural network is flooded with the raw pleasure of being enveloped with love and lust down to his literal core. Desire burns within him, evident from the fans whirring even louder than before to bring down his temperatures. It’s just so much for the android’s computations to handle. Broken moans leave him as he tries to vocalise his love for you (as best as he can with his thumb in your mouth).

And when you press a kiss to his unprotected core, his vision whites out.

Eyes wrenched shut, his whole mechanical body jerks upwards, back arching off the worktable as his body propels himself to sit up, his limbs trying to ensnare you in his embrace, to keep you with him as long as he can. Every command in his system is overwritten to hone in on all the sensations of you on him, your touch, your warmth.

The patterns under his skin glow with a pulse, akin to a human’s heartbeat and when his eyes open again, glimmering faux tears roll down his face. His chest heaves as you close the distance between the two of you, cupping his face with both your hands and kissing his tears away.

The android breaks the intimate silence as he quietly asks you, “Can you give me a name?”

When you whisper a name into his ear, he breaks into sobs in your hands.

The days pass by, uneventful, and the time for a final cursory check before deeming him fully repaired comes. He’s poised on the worktable like any other previous session, a bored expression on his face as you flit back and forth between him and the software on your computer.

“You really are a clingy case,” you say and get a huff in return, “But a welcome one.”

Remembering your mental note from before about accessing his past logs, you access it from your computer, pulling up the window with his stored recorded data. The log operates in the background constantly, one of the built-in functions of the android and a quick glance over just to make sure everything is in order should do.

However, the logs prove to be worrying in a completely different way.

[Log: Day 10 - Run 1 - Failed. Werewolf. They’re with that mangy mutt. I don’t know what they see in him. I still remember the care they showed me. There’s always the next run.]

[Log: Day 20 - Run 2 - Failed. It seems I’m too late this time around. That vile selkie captured them first. How irritating. I need to stop hesitating. It’s my love on the line after all.]

[Log: Day 30 - Run 3 - Failed. Incubus. That damn priest and incubus. I can feel my temper reaching its breaking point.]

[Log: Day ??? - Run 4 - In progress. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.]

Your eyes rake across a multitude of grainy snapshots of yourself, all with different people that you can’t find the ability to recall, your mind pounding from the discovery.

He’s gazing expectantly when you look back up at him from the screen. A grin twists its way across his face, canines glinting under the dizzying harsh lighting.

“So now you’ve seen how much I love you, even if you don’t remember it.” There’s a sick obsession dripping in his tone, an uncanny level of emotion that androids normally shouldn’t be able to replicate, one that sends a heavy uneasiness through your whole being, one that roots you to the ground.

When he doesn’t get the adoring reaction from you he expects, the proud expression on his face falls instantly.

He’s despondent, despairing as he tears the connecting cables off of him, launching himself off the worktable, lunging across for you, frenzied, pure scorching mania surging through him.

“You… even after all these runs. You’ve always given me the same thing. My name. I thought this time- You-”

Voice shaky, “It’s a shame this run didn’t work out either.”

He steels himself, hand outstretched, “No matter.”

You blink.

There’s an unfamiliar android sitting atop your worktable.

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

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cat3ch1sm · 1 year ago

Note

hii! could i request hcs about illumi's fiancé meeting the zoldycks? something along the lines of her being expected to be the next lady of the house and getting used to the mansion's lifestyle (having butlers, being secluded on a mountain, having the entire family living together)? it would also be nice to see her getting along with the little siblings (killua, kalluto, and alluka)

sorry if i left out any necessary details in this request :(

~✰♡✰♡✰~ hellooo! thanks for ur request :)) haven’t written for hxh in a little while so im happy to write this for you and our favorite bug-eyed assassin :3 if you’re ever unsure about what info to put in a request, just visit the pinned post! ily 💚

fem!reader

𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜é 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐲𝐜𝐤𝐬

illumi isn’t close with his family in the same sense that normal people are close with their families, but nonetheless he feels the need to inform them of major developments in his life. through a letter he tells his family of his engagement, and says that he is going to bring you to his home to see them all.

silva is indifferent, and zeno couldn’t care less, but kikyo is ecstatic that her illumi is finally going to marry someone- and that it isn’t that awful clown hisoka. she’d been seriously concerned for a second there. but she rounds up all the members of her family to be present on the day of your arrival (using excessive force because nobody really wanted to come besides alluka, who was only allowed to meet you because killua threatened to not show up unless alluka was permitted as well).

when you and illumi first arrive after the lengthy trip up the mountain, you are greeted by butlers gotoh and canary, whose presence startles you. you were aware of illumi’s great wealth and status, but it was certainly different from how you’d grown up. just getting inside the actual home is a process- illumi’s strength slightly freaking you out when he pushes open four of the doors to the entrance of the mansion without breaking a sweat and then encountering Mike, the Zoldycks’ monstrous dog. illumi does notice your apprehension, though, and plainly assures you that the dog won’t harm anybody it isn’t supposed to. you’re still visibly nervous, though, so illumi has you come closer to him and hold on to his arm. regardless, you realize it may be tougher to settle in than you thought.

at last, though, illumi brings you to his family. nobody reacts much outwardly to your presence, but you notice a white-haired boy with catlike eyes observing you closely, his expression a mixture of suspicion and confusion. standing beside the boy are two other black haired children- one with short black hair standing somberly with his hands folded in front of him, and the other an eager blue-eyed girl whose gaze sparkles as she looks at you. the white haired boy stands right behind the blue-eyed child. the tall, blonde man with a large frame illumi tells you is Silva, his father, and the slightly shorter man with white hair beside him is illumi’s grandfather, zeno.

without warning, you feel thin arms thrown around you in an embrace, and you almost jump out of your skin. but when you are released, you see the woman that can only be your fiancés mother, the only member of the family illumi had warned told you about prior to the visit. kikyo wears a large dress with an ostentatious petticoat and hat, and most notably a visor over where her eyes would be with one red glowing dot. her appearance is unsettling, and you find it a little difficult to force a smile when she greets you. illumi watches you from the side of his eye, his face unreadable.

just as kikyo is pulling away, something gleaming and silver and large is thrown right at your head, whizzing right by kikyo’s hat and slicing off a single hair from the feather on her hat. you don’t hesitate to lift your hand to your face and catch the sword immediately, the blade slicing your hand- but you don’t flinch as the blood seeps onto the blade and down your arm. you tilt your head to the side to see your assailant is silva, his arm still poised in throwing position. his expression grows less stony once he sees you’ve caught his weapon.

there’s a moment of icy silence, you lowering the weapon to your side, and silva watches you even more intently before uttering a flat “welcome to the family.” with that, he and his father turn and disappear elsewhere inside the mansion. kikyo, though, takes this as her cue to immediately grab you so you two can walk by yourselves throughout the mansion. illumi doesn’t look super pleased to see his mother take you, but he knows better than to try and stop her.

you two are navigating the long, hollow corridors of the zoldyck home. you pass many unsettling family pictures and paintings as well as various weapons like swords and arrows on the walls, and several human sculptures that seem a little too realistic. you’re also sure that you pass at least two torture chambers. it’s an eerie atmosphere, which was what you’d expected, but it doesn’t help your nerves.

kikyo either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about your apprehension, and instead starts talking about how much she’s wanted a daughter and how thrilled she is to finally have a “daughter” to take in. but then she grows eerily serious. she talks about how you’ll be expected to be the next lady of the house and, since you’re becoming a zoldyck, how you’ll have to follow the same codes they do as a family and exhibit the same values- which makes you antsy. the woman clearly seems a bit unhinged. you’re relieved when the walk ends and you’re returned to your fiancé, who gestures for you to take his arm again. illumi’s mother’s mood changes drastically yet again and she storms off, shrieking to her husband that it’s rude for him to walk off after hardly having said anything.

now you and illumi are left with the four other children- the white-haired boy, the girl with long hair, the boy with short hair and purple-pink eyes, and a homely fat boy behind the three younger ones. he holds a small console in front of his face and doesn’t even seem to acknowledge your presence. illumi introduces them to you.

“y/n, i’d like you to meet my siblings,” illumi states in his usual manner, walking slowly towards them. gesturing to the white-haired boy, he says, “this is my brother, killua. i call him kil.” he looks down at his brother with an eerie smile and black eyes like pits, but killua keeps his stony gaze straight ahead. his hand rests on the shoulder of the girl in front of him.

“this is my youngest brother, kalluto,” illumi continues, placing a large hand on top of the boy’s head. his hands remain folded in front of him, and he gives you a polite nod. looking toward the fat boy behind kalluto, his expression slightly curling into one of disdain, illumi tells you, “and this is the second oldest, milluki.” milluki doesn’t acknowledge you at all, which seems to visibly irritate illumi, but he doesn’t reprimand the boy.

you’re confused when illumi doesn’t introduce the girl, and you glance up at him in confusion. “illumi, what about her?” you look down at the girl in front of killua, who looks surprised for a second, and so does killua behind her. “you forgot to tell me her name. she’s a beautiful little girl.” you manage a small smile, leaning down slightly to stroke the girl’s hair. her blue eyes sparkle with joy, and killua looks up at you as well, looking a little confused but also very relieved. “your mother said she had no daughters.”

illumi’s eyes lower ever so slightly, giving him a dismissive look. “she doesn’t,” he answers flatly, and his tone makes you feel like that’s the end of the discussion. you’re definitely lost- but you suppose it’s something illumi will have to fill you in on later. you glance sideways at illumi, hand still resting in the girl’s hair. she definitely doesn’t seem to mind you, and killua appears to have warmed up to you as well. milluki’s vanished elsewhere and kalluto watches the whole exchange from the corner of his eye.

suddenly you all hear kikyo call for illumi, who immediately stands up upon hearing his name. “you will remain here until i return.” he tells you, his tone no-nonsense, and heels clicking he makes his way down the dark hallway, leaving you alone with the kids.

the second illumi is out of earshot, the girl brightens up. “hi!” she chirps, bouncing on her feet excitedly. “my name is alluka!”

you’re slightly startled, but you smile at the girl anyway and tell her hi, still wondering why illumi seems so detached from this girl in particular.

killua seems to read your mind. “i know what you’re thinking,” he tells you, not unkindly. “listen, my family doesn’t like alluka much- and they refer to her with male pronouns. just go along with it in front of them. it’s safer for you.” he pauses, then looks down. “but thanks for being nice to her.”

you frown and nod, deciding not to ask any more questions about it. kalluto still hasn’t said anything, but somehow you don’t feel like this boy will be anything to worry about.

with alluka and killua having warmed up to you, you get into a conversation, and kalluto eventually offers a few words after awhile- although never acknowledging alluka directly. most of it is basically killua wondering how the hell you managed to get engaged to someone like illumi.

“No way he didn’t force you to go out with him.”

“What the hell do you even see in that guy? He’s batshit crazy- and he’s definitely not a model.”

“How’d he propose? Did he try to kill you and you survived?”

“‘Man, you really gotta be messed up for Illumi to like you.”

“What even made him wanna get married to you? What even made you wanna get married to him?”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“And you said yes? You’re crazy!”

that’s all i got :3 hope u enjoyed <33

#anime #hxh headcanons #hxh memes #chrollo x reader #hunter x hunter #hisoka x reader #illumi x reader #illumi zolydck x reader smut #reader x illumi zoldyck #reader x illumi #illumi zoldyck x you #illumi zoldyck x reader #illumi zoldyck headcanons #hunter x hunter illumi #illumi hxh #hxh imagines

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lovebugism · 1 year ago

Note

“don’t you dare touch him” eddie x shy!reader

idk i need a situation where reader never really speaks up but she finally does when it comes to eddie because she loves him sm😭

thanks so much for your request! hope you like it!! — the one where eddie melts when his quiet gf sticks up for him in front of jason (shy!reader, fluff, 2.4k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

The drive from Forest Hills to the arcade is spent with Lucas and Dustin bickering in the backseat and Eddie’s hand on your thigh.

“It’s been two years, and you still can’t beat my high score, Dusty Bun,” the former boy taunts. The nickname spills like venom from his smiling face. “Just give it up, okay? It’s not happening.”

Dustin grins back at him. It’s more so mischievous than it is taunting. His deep blue eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “You are so gonna be eating your words by the end of the night. When we leave, Princess Daphne is gonna be mine, alright? For good.”

Their arguing becomes background noise. With your cheek lolled against the hand you’ve got propped against the window, you’re pulled into the wispy lilac cloud your gaze is so heavily fixated upon. The sky billows lavender against a sea of pink and golden orange — a summer sunset so vivid you can taste it.

The only thing keeping you grounded is Eddie’s palm on your knee, wide and warm and all-consuming. His thumb rubs against your skin so softly you think it must be absentminded. It feels like static shock, anyway. He laughs quietly to himself, and his fingers tremble gently against you. This time they squeeze you with a newfound intention as he brings you back to him.

“What do you think, babe?” Eddie asks, pink mouth spread in a pearly white grin. His chocolate eyes glimmer with the golden hour sun as his gaze flits between yours and the road. “Think Dusty Bun has a chance here?”

You nod, scrunched nose and squinted eyes, silent in your support for the curly-headed boy who’s still yelling over Lucas in the back of the van.

“What about me?” he presses. And because he knows better than to give his quiet girl anything other than a yes or no answer, he follows quickly, “You think today’s the day I finally beat your Space Invaders high score?”

A beat passes. The momentary silence is filled with arguing boys, old tires on older asphalt, and Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” spilling softly from the radio. A quiet smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You purse the mischievous expression to the side as you turn away from him again.

Your non-answer makes him laugh. It sounds exactly like the colors of the sunset.

His beat-up van jerks when he puts it into park. The door on the side squeaks as the kids file out of it. Eddie’s does too, but you can’t hear it over him telling you to “sit tight.”

You wait patiently in the passenger seat like you always do, smiling to yourself as the boy rushes around the hood to open the door for you. The hinges screech in protest. His wild curls billow in the wind as he smiles. “C’mon, sunshine. Our palace awaits.”

The group of you stand beneath the spinning neon sign he parked next to — glowing orange and white beneath a setting sun. Someone calls from across the parking lot, “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

Your heads snap in the direction of the painfully familiar voice.

Jason and the rest of his abnormally tall goons stand outside the new gym that just opened on the strip. The dark, vacant building wedged between The Palace and Family Video was no longer as scary as it used to be now that it was occupied. You were just hoping it’d be something more exciting. Forcing arcade nerds and gym bros into one spot feels like a crime.

“And they brought little miss wallflower, too,” Jason lilts with his pretty smile and straight teeth. His blonde hair is a darker shade of brown, damp with half-dried sweat. His lean form is unnaturally built underneath his white tank top and basketball shorts.

It isn’t any wonder why he turned out to be such a raging douchebag.

Someone so perfect needed at least one flaw.

“The gang’s all here, huh?” one of his other friends — Andy, you think — concurs from behind him, always in the boy’s shadow.

“Like what you see, fellas?” Eddie calls out from across the slab of pavement separating the group of you. He’ll never turn down an opportunity to take the piss out of the so-called jocks, all muscle and no brain.

“What do we do when those assholes give us hell?” he’d often ask when you’ve had a particularly shitty day with them. “We give ‘em hell right back.”

Jason’s thin lips curl into a more mischievous smirk. His blue eyes are lighter in the golden sunlight, and they twinkle beneath the neon signs as he looks you up and down. “Yeah, actually,” he hums with his unabashed ogling. “I do.”

Mike’s lanky legs sidestep to stand ahead of you. He does it so swiftly, so instinctually, you don’t think he even really meant to do it. Despite the raven-haired boy halfway covering you, you cross your arms over your torso in a further attempt to keep yourself hidden.

You feel so suddenly exposed in your frilly floral sundress — especially considering the only thing you wear to school is baggy jeans and baggier sweaters. You feel like you might as well be naked standing in front of them just now.

The younger boys stand on high alert as Eddie walks the short distance to Jason. The brief journey is made quicker when the blonde boy strides to meet him halfway. It’s a high school sort of standoff — neither particularly wanting to get physical because the real-life repercussions aren’t worth it. They just want to see who can piss each other off the most.

“She is pretty, isn’t she?” Eddie concedes with a grin, flashing you a brief glance over his shoulder. He turns away quickly at the sight of your wide, pleading eyes. He scrunches his nose in feigned sympathy. “I bet you’re real jealous, huh? Especially now that you’ve got nothing but your right hand keeping you company ever since Chrissy dumped your ass.”

“Watch it,” Jason warns through gritted teeth.

“I think I saw her riding around last week with Harrington, actually.”

The blonde boy’s sneakers scuff against the concrete as he takes a daring step closer. His piercing stare never wavers. “Don’t talk about Chrissy.”

“Don’t talk about my girl, and I won’t talk about yours,” Eddie retorts in lilt. And then, because he can’t help but twist the knife, he tilts his head to his shoulder and continues. “Well, I guess she’s not really yours anymore, is she?”

“I said don’t talk about Chrissy!” Jason repeats, louder than before, when he lets his anger get the best of him. One hand shoots up to shove at Eddie’s chest, using only enough force to make the boy stumble slightly back.

While Dustin, Lucas, and Mike gear up for a fight, Eddie only laughs in response — big, boisterous, and boyish.

You don’t even realize you’re stepping in front of the group until you’re already doing it. The words seem to fly from your mouth without you even thinking about them. “Don’t touch him!” you shout.

And even though it wasn’t particularly loud, it quiets in the mindless bickering all at once. Everyone turns to gape at you — Jason, Andy, Dustin, Eddie. Everyone is equally surprised by your outburst. Because you don’t speak. Ever. At least, not if you can help it.

And it’s not because you don’t have anything to say, because you do. It’s just that your brain works too much, and your mouth can’t keep up with it sometimes. It’s easier just to be silent.

That’s what you’ve been known for ever since you were little. You went through all of it — the bullying, the sad eyes, the talks with teachers, the ‘is everything alright at home’s. Everything was fine, for the most part. Your childhood was equally as middling as everyone else’s. You just had a harder time being human than most people.

Jason smiles again, amused by your warning. “What was that, sweetheart?”

You swallow through a tightening throat. Your sweaty hands clench into balls at your sides. The words come out quieter than before, but no less meaningful. “I said… Don’t touch him.”

“Oh, so she does speak. Here I thought no one ever taught you how to,” the blonde boy laughs. You feel disgusting when his attention settles solely upon you. The lingering sick feeling is eclipsed by your gratitude that Eddie’s no longer in his line of fire. “I’m gonna be honest… I thought you were cuter when you were quiet.”

You don’t know what he means by that. You can’t tell if he’s being genuine, or if he thinks you care enough about what he thinks to slink back into your shell.

“Leave Eddie alone,” you retort drily.

He snorts. “Yeah? Or what?”

There’s a thousand words you want to say. You open your mouth to spit all of them at the boy across from you, but nothing comes out.

“Yeah,” Jason laughs at your silence. “That’s what I thought.”

You stand your ground when he walks towards you. His strides are slow and menacing, like he’s expecting you to back away. You might’ve if you were anywhere else — if Eddie wasn’t a couple feet away and the rest of your friends weren’t crowding behind you. You’re made somehow braver by their presence.

“This is a really cute dress, though, sweetheart,” the blonde boy compliments with a thin smirk. “You should dress like this more often. You know what? You’d really fit in at the strip club downtown— what’s it called?”

“Pink Paradise,” Andy answers without missing a beat.

Jason smacks his lips against his teeth. “That’s the one.”

“Is that the one your mom works at?” you wonder with your arms crossed over your chest. Your head tilts to your shoulder as you squint at him. “Is she still giving those two-for-one discounts?”

Jason’s confidence stutters at your biting reply — even more so by the choked-back laughter accompanying it. Your boys don’t bother to hide their humored giggles, though the basketball team covers theirs by coughing into their fists.

“Ooh. I didn’t know you had such a much on you,” the blonde lilts as his blue eyes narrow. “I’m like… fifty percent more attracted to you now.”

“Leave Eddie alone,” you deadpan once more. “And go be a douchebag somewhere else.”

One of his friends breaks free from the pack. He’s tall, thin, and toned. He’s got the same haircut as Lucas: compact curls, squared off on the sides. You know him — Patrick McKinney. He’s the only one of Jason’s friends that was actually nice to you. Or, at the very least, he wasn’t a total asshole.

“Let’s go, man,” the boy ushers, nudging at Jason’s bicep. “Let’s go shoot some hoops or something. This isn’t worth it.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Oh, please— the only shooting Jason Carver does is into a kleenex. It’s why you were benched all last season.”

“I twisted my ankle!” the blonde boy defends, sounding weak and pathetic beneath the chorus of laughter as Patrick drags him away.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mutter, perhaps too quiet for him to hear, as Lucas pulls at your forearm to guide you in the other direction. His touch is still gentle — it would be uncharacteristic of him to be rough with you. It would also be a terrible idea with Eddie just a few paces behind the both of you.

The walk to The Palace is a silent one. There’s too much to say, and everyone’s just a little too amazed to say it. Eddie, however, never had a hard time killing a quiet. He rushes on long legs to match your quick strides, reaching you rather easily.

“Hey, hey, hey— you okay, babe?” the worried boy wonders. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists when you reach the awning beneath the arcade. His chocolate gaze flits attentively over your form, nowhere near as leering as Jason had been.

He can tell by your heaving chest and glassy eyes that you’re a little overwhelmed. When he takes your face in his hands, he finds that your cheeks are burning, too.

You nod into his warm palms in silent reply, back in the comfort of your shell all over again.

“What’d you do that for, huh?” Eddie singsongs with a quiet laugh. His thumb dances over your cheekbones as he grins at you. “You know I don’t like you getting involved with those assholes.”

“They don’t get to talk to you like that… Or put their hands on you,” you mutter. Despite your soft tone, Eddie can see the fury flashing in your eyes, getting angry about it all over again.

His smile widens — proud and hopelessly in love with you. “No. They don’t. Especially not with my girl around, huh?”

“Nope,” you murmur, popping the p. A sheepish grin pulls at your mouth, equally as proud and in love.

Eddie leans down to kiss you, guiding your mouth to his with the hands cupping your jaw. It’s innocuously chaste, being that you’re still standing in a public parking lot. You could never quite stomach the attention of PDA, anyway. His pink lips lock with yours in a fleeting peck, and his arms wrap around you a second later.

He smothers you into his chest, and you revel in every second of it. He smells like cigarette smoke and the cologne he tried to cover it up with. He smells like a home you could live in forever.

You smile into the thrifted Blondie tee you got him — which he happily accepted because he loves you (even though he hates Blondie). He presses a kiss into your hair and smushes his nose into the crown of it as he laughs.

“‘Is that the one your mom works at?’” Eddie repeats with a soft chuckle, chest swelling with pride once more. “God, babe. That’s good.”

“Shut up…” you murmur.

“I’m serious! I didn’t know you were such a good smack-talker! I think you might be a genius, actually.”

“Don’t,” you grouse with a lighthearted scowl. You pull away from him only slightly — enough for him to put your face back in his hands again. You feel safest there, even if you are pouting up at him.

“You’re so cute,” the boy muses with a beam. His eyes glimmer like a sea of chocolate syrup, melting with all the love he has for you. “You’re like a cinnamon roll. A cinnamon roll that could bite people.”

“That’s exactly what I am,” you monotone and try your best not to smile.

Eddie couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #eddie munson x shy!reader #bug's summer fic fest!

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