#if i do then i'm sorry that this is how i'm gonna love you Ash | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starryhutcherson · 7 months ago

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━━ A NEW FAMILIAR

author's note: crawled out of my hole for this one guys. sorry for being so ghost mode im working on putting out more stuff, apologies if this isn't of the highest quality as i'm running on sugar free redbull and three hours of sleep ! love my life hahahahaAHHHH

'୧ ‧₊ pairing: best friend!mike schmidt x reader warnings: 18+ sexual content! oral sex (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing word count: 4600+ ⋆ ✩‧₊

Mike’s expression always glooms when you bring up the next date you’ve arranged. He knows how this story plays out; he knows the truth behind the men you’ve matched with on whatever sketchy website you’ve wasted your time on. They’ve molded themselves into the embodiment of perfection, through falsified photos and fabrications buried in their bios. His patience crumbles like fireplace ash as you skip around his living room and drone on about whatever dickhead you’ve set your poor, precious heart on.

He knows, always, the the outcome is running makeup and salty cheeks, sobbing on the floor of his living room in a creasing satin dress and his welcoming arms, a bitter exclamation of “you were right Mike” leaving your lips in the knowing silence and him gritting his jaw and pretending that it doesn’t bother him the the only habits you ever find yourself falling back into are the bad ones.

It’s no different today.

Mark or Matt or Mitch – you really were killing him, because it should be Mike. It should be him. Him that you’re getting ready for, him that you’re daydreaming about. And it’s an odd feeling, like a movie where your favorite character dies and then movie finishes and you have to accept that they aren’t coming back, no matter how long you sit glued to the reclinable chair, popcorn crunched beneath your sneakers and the credit-scene reflected in your shrinking pupils.

Mike’s not the type to be happier with the hope – he’d let the truth swallow him up, sink into his creaking bones, he’d live with the loss. But he still has hope for you. He has hope that your eyes will open and you’ll seep into his brain and his breath and his bed. He hopes you’ll start seeing him instead of just looking. Maybe it's wishful thinking. Ignorant optimism.

It feels like it.

It feels like it, right now, when he’s leaning against the doorframe of his bathroom and watching you get ready, your animated chatter reverberating around the small space between coats of mascara. He offered to give you a ride before you’d even asked, and he’ll tolerate the sting of watching you get out of the car looking all pretty for someone who isn’t him, just to make sure you get there safely. It’s the type of sacrifice he’ll make for you.

“I can’t even feel my face, I’ve been smiling so hard all day!” You squeal, powdering your cheeks with more purposeless product – he thinks it’s all pointless. You’re radiant, even in the harsh lighting of his bathroom.

He offers a low grunt. What is he supposed to say? He’s not happy. And he’s not gonna pretend he is.

You either don’t notice or choose to ignore, continuing to doll yourself up to whatever standards you have for yourself. “I mean, he says he’s been skiing since he was 6. He’s practically an olympian.”

Mike scoffs.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he grumbles, shaking his head. “Can you hurry up?”

“Alright, grumpy. Calm down. I gotta do my lips and then I’m ready. Plus, nobody told you that you gotta stand here.”

A fleeting flush of fuchsia permeates his cheeks, but he looks down at his worn shoes to hide it. It’s true. He didn’t have to stand here. But if an angel was populating your bathroom you’d want to take a peek, would you not? That’s how he thinks you look. Angelic. Glowing from your soul, a content smile knitted on your lips. You might as well have a halo and wings – that heaven-sent aura is reinforced when you douse yourself in lingering washes of that sweet perfume that’s branded itself to you. He’d recognise that floral aroma anywhere, the way a shark detects a drop of blood amongst saline scattered seas.

“Okay, I’m ready. How do I look?”

Cruelest question of them all. “You look… fine. Good.”

A knot forms in your brow. “All this effort for that terrible answer?” Playful, but with a truthful undertone. Why do you value his opinion so much? He doesn’t want to assume anything.

“Well I’m not the person you’re dressing up for.” I wish I was. He doesn’t say the other words, but he thinks them so hard he’s half convinced if you were listening in the right spot, or looking into his eyes for long enough that you’d hear it anyway.

“Okay, okay, whatever. Let’s just get going, don’t wanna keep Mack waiting.”

Two letters. That’s all it would take. That’s all he’d have to swap to make it him.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

✩‧₊˚

Even if you aren’t aware, even if he did offer, he drives begrudgingly. He focuses as much as he can, on the road ahead and not your glistening figure beside him in the passenger seat, the very definition of temptation.

The mall parking lot is barren, a few gleaming cars scattered amongst the otherwise desolate area. He pulls into a space, sets the car in park, rakes in a greedy sigh of air.

“If anything happens, call me.”

You sneer teasingly. “Don’t be so pessimistic. It’s gonna be great, he could be my future husband, y’know.”

Yep. Mack, the 35 year old you've met online, who’s only notable talent seems to be skiing and his greatest life achievement to date is shooting a deer, whose head is mounted to the wall in his bedroom, typically visible in the background of his many instagram posts which involved his shirtless figure straining to flex his overly pronounced bulk. A match made in heaven. He wants to scream.

And how can you even tell him to not be pessimistic? How can you look him in the eyes and act like this moment hasn’t happened time after time, the point of no return before an evening spent crying in his arms as he reassures you that your failed dates are never your fault, even though by now it seems like you must be seeking out the same genre of shitty man if you’re this good at getting your heart broken. He’s sick of picking up the fragile little pieces of his bathroom floor, cutting himself on the shards of a heart that’ll never be his. You deserve more than these half-baked, single night romances. He could show you that.

“Yeah, sure,” he grits. “Future husband. Just call me, seriously.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll call you.”

And with that, you’re off, disappearing into the gaping mouth of the mall’s entrance, and he watches with an alkaline feeling growing in his stomach. Your hair is caught up in the wind like clothing on a washline and he thinks his hope is all drained out.

✩‧₊˚

Mike spends a good two hours back at his house. His movements feel vacuous, staring ahead at the screen, barely processing the raging garbage that masquerades as reality TV. The rain has picked up outside, licking at the window panes with a growing intensity.

He’s not happy about the jean skirt and tiny little tank top you’d clad yourself in prior to leaving, you’re probably frigid by now in the cold. You did however reassure him that Mack was gonna drive you home, or even worse, take you back to his place, so his stupid fucking elk head trophie could watch with it’s empty eyes while the pair of you fuck on the bed that his mom still has to make for him because he never can quite manage those fitted sheets, can he? Fucking manchild.

Shit. Mike’s feeling so so bitter. Maybe it’s because he’s finally realized that this is the dreaded pattern he’s going to have to endure with you until death. Or until he braves up and actually tells you that he’s been in love with you since the fifth day of second grade, when you mouthily confronted Jerry Murdoch and told him to give Mike his crayons back.

With a weak sigh, he turns the TV off with a click of the remote still encaptured in the loose hold of his fist, and decides to see if he can melt into any form of sleep – but the knock on his door prevents him from doing so.

He arises lethargically, not having much on his mind but the denial of his slumber as he shuffles over and turns the handle, but then, it’s you.

Fluttery lashes melted to black smudges beneath your eyes, a mixture of rainwater and tears, completely drenched and dripping all over his doormat, your body is trembling and you’re wracked with tiny little cries and he’s feeling so many emotions he believes he might implode.

He pulls you inside and into his arms, stroking your back in gentle, soothing motions, and it kills him that this has become routine. He’s angry. He’s sick of this.

“What happened this time?” He grunts softly.

“He didn’t even show up. He couldn’t even send a message as to why, Mike,” you sniffle into his warm chest, drunk off the even echo of his heartbeat.

A moment’s silence rots like aged fruit. He draws a breath in, then out, then in again.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

You crane your face upwards to meet him, instantly bathed in a nervous shiver when you see how serious he looks.

“My phone was dead.” Is all you can manage to mumble.

“What?” He’s pissed. “Why didn’t you charge it? You could have charged it there, they have outlets at the mall. Or you could’ve used someone else’s, so you didn’t have to walk home in the rain, because you’re drenched.”

“I don’t–”

“Y’know how dangerous it is to walk around alone in this shitty neighborhood? Half the street lights don’t even work, and I don’t even know any of my neighbors, or what kinda people walk around here at night.” He grumbles. “I shouldn’t have to tell you all this, I’m sick of explaining all this to you.”

You roll your eyes irritably, releasing yourself from his arms and crossing your own across your dripping wet torso. “How was I supposed to know he was gonna stand me up? You’re telling me I should just expect it?”

He blinks like a deer in headlights, silence settles into his flesh.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

You scoff. “It’s what you implied.”

“It’s not what I—” He grumbles weakly under his breath, cutting himself off, deciding reasoning with you is somewhat of a useless attempt. “Why can’t you just listen to me?”

“What, charge my phone next time? Bring a raincoat? Yeah, great help, seriously, don’t know where I’d be without you,” your sarcasm hits like gunshot wounds to the teeth.

“Or maybe you should try to meet actual people, instead of fake ones from some stupid website.”

After a cold shiver bites up your spine, your expression deepens with defense. What is his fucking problem? “At least I try to get out of the house! At least I don’t spend every hour of every day moping around and feeling sorry for myself!”

The pair of you fight, sure, every good relationship, friend or romance or family or whatever should, but nothing like this. This is stone-set, it’s been coming for a while, the wild gesticulations and the pacing and the raised voices. It shakes the bones of the weakened house.

“Don’t,” Mike says with a furious edge, fists tightening and untightening like he’s about to take a swing at the wall, like this is going to end with bleeding knuckles nipped with shards of worn plaster. “Don’t throw that in my face, I do everything I can, for you and Abby. It’s not like I have a choice.”

“So what, you’re so fucking miserable in your own life that you have to try and control mine?”

“Control? You’re like my child! You don’t even know how to take care of yourself half the time, so yes, I try to help you not to make such shitty decisions!”

You scowl. “You’re not obligated to do anything for me, y’know Mike. Why do you keep me around if I’m that much of a chore for you!”

He snaps, the tension in his fists bleeding up into his throat, his mouth, the words clot behind his gums and suddenly they tumble out in a fury-fueled shout. “Because you’ve got no one else!”

You deflate, wilting like a flame without oxygen, and Mike deems the silence to be more cruel than anything else you’ve said to him tonight. He’s feeling everything and nothing all at once, the quiet crumbles around him like a burning building and he fears he’ll become rubble beneath the debris.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just… god, just–” His eyes flick to you, and then retreat back down to the faded living room carpet. He can’t swallow his guilt this time. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

“It’s fine,” you say coldly, knuckling away an angry tear. The salt water is the trick of nostalgia, you’ve cried like this so many times. Your breakage of those promises to yourself. It’ll be different. And it never is.

“No. It’s not – I’m a dick, I just… I hate watching other people ruin your life. You deserve better.”

Better. What is better? Some twisted fantasy that some people are indulged with and others are left longing for. That you’re left longing for. You know he’s tired of the same bullshit that you force yourself through, convincing yourself of change, painting yourself up to be fit for presentation, and hoping that whoever you’ve leeched onto likes what they see, so you don’t have to feel so alone anymore. You’re oblivious, painfully so. Because Mike could plaster together the cracks in your splintering psyche, if you’d just let him in.

“Whatever, Mike. It’s true anyway.”

There’s a hole in his heart in the shape of your name. He begs you. Fill it. A part of him shatters at the defeat in your words — he’s crumbled you to the bone, to the marrow. He’ll build you back up. You deserve it.

“No it isn't. No it isn’t. You have me. You’ll always have me.”

A silence pervades; the look in his eyes is one of pleading, that you’ll stop and see what he’s offering you, that you’ll stop chasing your own tail, that you’ll stop the cycle.

“Mike…”

“And Abby.”

You indulge him.

“You have me. And you have Abby. And I know that’s… not much, but she loves you. So much. And I’m sorry, ‘cause I know I don’t say it enough, I don’t…. I don’t say how much you mean to me, but I just—”

“Mike.”

He wallows in the waters of your rain kissed eyes, the way your pupils pulse and the words are falling before he can swallow them back down.

“I love you.”

He gives you that stare. That stare that’s the color of black coffee, the look that you can feel, unearthing the graveyard of wilting feelings you’ve tried to bury, the heart that beats for him him him, lodged between the ivory bars of your ribcage. He maps you out with his eyes, he looks at you the way the sun hungers for daybreak.

He’s waiting. He’d wait forever.

“And… and seeing you with these… shitty people who don’t even care about you, it just…” He sighs exasperatedly, dragging a sweaty palm down his face.

His sentences can’t seem to finish themselves. This is harder than it looks in the movies. Harder than when he’s practiced in the mirror, when Abby’s walked in and giggled at him and told him to just fess up.

“You love me? Like…”

He looks up at you like a kicked puppy. “Yeah. I do.”

You’re beyond bewildered. He loves you. He loves you.

“What– but… you—”

“You don’t have to… say anything. I just, I can’t… I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t do it.”

You reach for his hand. It’s a little clammy, a little trembly, but it’s a perfect fit. Just like you.

“I love you too, Mike.”

What?

“You… do?”

He’s skeptical, but he’s also swooning. A stone man is slowly cracking.

“I just didn’t… didn’t think I could have you. I mean, you’re so… you’re everything, y’know? You’re a good brother, and you work so hard, and you’re… I’m just… I don’t think I deserve you,” you whisper, confessing. With a newfound stroke of confidence, he approaches, one hand snaking around to the small of your back, another on your cheek. He’s gentle. In his eyes, you’re porcelain. Precious. Fragile. At least, at this moment. But you love him too and that’s all he needs. It’s all he’s ever needed.

“You deserve everything.” He says it so quietly it’s barely audible. And then, nothing is audible because he’s carefully pulling your lips to his, linking you in every way, his hands tangle into your damp hair and he’s kissing you.

His lips chase yours in messy, uncalculated movements. He’s starting small. It’s been a while. And he’s gonna take his time with you. He’s gonna show you what you deserve. Soft sounds squeak past his lips as they flutter against yours, and you’re closer and closer and closer still, impossibly so.

Within moments he’s whisking you off to his bedroom, his hand tangled with yours, an interlace tight enough to cause ropeburn. His skin chafes with yours, and then he’s kissing you again atop his navy comforter.

He’s gentle, respectful, but you understand what he’s trying to tell you, what he’s been trying to tell you. He speaks through silken drags of his tongue, through the hand that holds your cheek steady— he feels as though he’s gripping the very cusp of a constellation. You taste like stardust. You glow like the waning moon.

He breathes heavily in the expanse of his throat, his pants have become tight and wet and filthy; he’s been subconsciously grinding down into your lap. You’re a little shaky and your pupils have darkened with lust and he is going to show you what you mean to him. What you’ve been missing.

His hand falls lower, into the slope of torso that dips into your hips. His eyes travel back and forth, searching, hunting for the desire that he feels mirrored back at him. Do you want this, the way he does? Do you? His hardened stare doesn’t speak loud enough. He elaborates.

“Can I… uh… do you wanna…?”

Do you want to? You need to.

“Shit, okay,” he croaks out, jaw tense and tight as he traces you beneath calloused fingers. You didn’t realize you said that out loud.

He’s endearingly awkward – you know from languid late-night conversations that he hasn’t done this a lot. Maybe even at all. But he’s sweet, so sweet, like lapping up sugar and feeling it dissolve on your tongue, feeling him dissolve on your tongue, giving you comfort and cavities.

“Can I take this off?” He asks nervously, fiddling with the hem of your camisole. A short nod, and he’s sliding it over your sweat-pricked figure, admiring your contours in the whisper of evening moonlight that bleeds through holes in his moth-eaten curtains. You’re perfect, and he knew you would be.

He caresses your skin gently, drunk on the mellow feeling of your bare stomach beneath his fingertips. Your bra is black, a little lace peering along the straps, your breasts spilling into the fabric. He reaches around your back, fumbling at the clasp. When the garment drops, his hands are replacing it before you can even blink.

“Beautiful,” he manages to get out, thumbing over your nipples.

“Mngh, Mike—”

“Sh. Just let me… just let me. Let me make you feel good. Please?” He grunts out under his breathless voice, and how could you deny such a request?

The moment you agree, he’s grabbing you by the thighs and tugging you towards him slightly, so your back is nearly flat against his mattress and he’s settling himself in the gap that you create for him.

Your skirt comes off first. Your panties are undeniably soused, his fingers trace the big wet spot that’s dripping all for him, teasing you through torturously thin cotton.

“Mike,” you mewl gently, fingers settling in his nest of chocolate curls that are damp with sweat. A firm tweak and he’s groaning, his voice melting away into nothing like hot tar.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles to himself, like he’s never seen anything like it. Probably not in a while. His finger hooks beneath the waistband, pulls it out gently, and lets it go. It slaps against your hip bone and another fresh sound seeps from your lips.

“Mike, shit, please just do something—”

“Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than you, carefully sliding your panties from your waist, down past your ankles, and he’s tossing them to join the pile of clothes that has begun to collect on his bedroom floor.

You’re here, before him. The girl he waited for. Your soft flesh is glistening, clenching painfully around nothing, and he’s salivating at the sight of you. He pries your legs out further with his warm hands, leaving them to linger on your bare flesh for a few drawn out moments, before he claims what’s rightfully his.

He presses a trialing kiss to your clit, and your back curves delicately, fingers tightening their grasp in his hair. He moans into you at this action, and you, in turn, moan as well. Confidence creates itself in him with each little whimper that he gets you to release, and he’s answering back, hearing your cries, your calls of his name with his own unabashed exclamations of pleasure. This is just as good for him, as it is for you.

“Mike,” you whine gently, and he’s mumbling weak praise right into your cunt.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. Wanted this for so long.”

It’s barely audible between his languid sucks; he’s lapping at your drooling entrance, fingers subtly creeping closer, up and along your thighs and settling right above your throbbing clit. He presses his thumb against it, tracing sinful circles against your bud— once, twice, and then you’re far too close to the edge.

“Oh, Mike I’m gonna come,” you choke out between gasps.

“Do it. Please.”

He’s begging you.

And you oblige. With a trembling sob, your thighs tense around his head, keeping him locked in place, capturing him and making sure he finishes the job, and oh does he plan to. When you soar, he’s still holding you in place, soothing the electric sparks pulsating throughout your body.

He savors your sounds, and when they stop coming, he presses a lingering peck on your inner thigh, stubble scraping at the sensitive dermis. He then raises his face to your level, the light coruscating off the filthy souvenir etched all over his face, your glittering arousal that he wears so proudly.

He steals a proper kiss from you, rubbing your side as a gentle comfort. He’s completely hard now, tenting his sweats, leaking against the fabric. You gingerly reach out, tracing what you assume to be the head of his cock, and he sags, boneless, against your touch.

“Fuck, baby I—”

“Baby?” You chuckle softly, still hazed from the candy-coated afterglow of your orgasm. The first of many, he hopes.

“Mngh— g… got a problem?” He grumbles softly, almost quivering as you begin to palm him with purpose.

“It’s out of character,” you tell him gently.

“Shit, can I be inside you?” He asks you, voice ripped raw.

And once again, Mike Schmidt leaves you breathless.

“Yeah. I need it. I need you.”

He groans, slipping off his pants and boxers without so much as another word from your swollen lips. He’s hard, angrily so, his cock pulses violently and a little whimper escapes through the crack in his bitten lips when it slaps against his stomach.

He’s stroking himself slowly, base to tip and then back again, collecting the pearls of precum that dribble from his slit. He’s never been so ready for something. For you. It’s all for you.

He’s holding you, thumbing your hip bones and gently nudging himself into your hole, cooing at every cry that crawls from the crevices of your throat. When he bottoms out, finally, it’s safe to say that he gets a little dumb. “Oh, shit, I’m not— not gonna last long, you’re so tight, shit…” He’s rambling a little. It’s cute.

A few wandering kisses land on you the way dandelion spores decorate a skyline – your cheek and your chin and your jaw, as he waits for you to let him move. You’re squeezing him for all he’s got and he’s three seconds away from spilling before he’s even so much as thrusted. You do this to him.

All those days, staring into your eyes and wondering if you’d ever see him the way you do, all those nights, stroking your hair and softening your saddened sobs after failed date after failed date. They’re all worth it.

You’re clamping down on him, warm and wet and wavering, and you’re exhaling softly through your nose and telling him to move, begging him to move, to make you feel good, and it’s what he does.

He pumps into you with passion, magnetized to your every movement. He’s satisfying a decade worth of insatiable craving, he’s chasing your hips with his. You end where he begins.

The headboard creaks and slams against thin plastered walls, one hand grips onto it with alabaster knuckles and the other one holds your hips for better leverage. He doesn’t need to say it, but each knocked kiss of his pelvis to yours is a silent I love you I love you I love you.

“Oh my god Mike,” you sob, and he slides himself deeper, hitting everywhere he wants to reach. Everywhere to make you quiver beneath him.

“You d—don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he moans lowly. “How many times I’ve imagined you like— like this.”

He’s blabbering, every stray thought that passes through his head is already blossoming on his tongue and out into the air before he can even think twice. Admittedly, you’re too blissed out in your own mind to really respond, but it’s arousing all the same.

“You’re so… so beautiful,” he’s flushed and he’s faltering, and you know he’s close before he even announces it.

“Shit, baby, I can’t— can’t last much longer,” he stammers, his bruising pace beginning to shake.

“Do it in me, Mike, please, please,” shit, are you trying to kill him? Your word is the only law he knows, and he’s wrapping his arms around your torso and diving his head in the elegant slope of your collarbone, biting down into the skin and spasming somewhere deep in your welcoming walls.

He tries to keep himself quiet, but it’s really a futile effort. His hips jut sporadically as he empties himself inside you, and the sudden flood of subtle heat is all it takes for you to topple over as well.

Bliss teeters back into reality after a seemingly ceaseless moment. He peels his head from its previous position to admire you, to stroke a stray lock of hair from your forehead and nervously greet it with a kiss.

He doesn’t let go of you. Not now, not ever, he thinks to himself. His arms snake around you tighter, and somehow it’s even more intimate after the fact. His bare chest collides with your back, his nose rests comfortably against the crown of your head. The pair of you follow each other into a dreamless sleep, safe in the sanctuary of a warm bed and an even warmer embrace.

He’s found his new familiar.

masterlist

✩‧₊

#mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #peeta mellark smut #hunger games #michael schmidt #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt fluff #josh hutcherson angst #josh hutcherson fluff

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mischieveousmayhem · 8 months ago

Note

continuation of the series "Mom, we miss you", Bruce's point of view without his wife

My love, I failed

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Batmom! Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Mention of death (obviously), Bruce ooc

Synopsis: Bruce took a chance to love again. Only to lose her.

A/N: okay a few things, thank you for all the requests ima work on them asap. second of all , back by popular demand we're gonna do Bruce. Third, I did Bruces differently;). Lastly, I might do Alfred too cuz like he's part of the fam too 🤭 anyways enjoy

THE MASTERLIST

—

"Dear Y/N,

I only want to talk to you, so here I am. You're gone and I realize that. But I miss you so much and can't accept your death. I know you wouldn't want to see me like this, I know you would want me to be strong but I simply can't because you were my strength.

I have not seen the boys in months after your funeral, only one I've seen is Jason and that is because sometimes I will sit out here with him.

I call myself Batman and claim to be a hero. But you were more of hero then I am. You even had your own power. The power of love.

When you first came into my life, I didn't except us to adopt so many kids together or have Damian around. Hell, I didn't even expect us to ever get married. You used that power of love and casted a spell on me.

For all these years you have dealt with me, and I don't know how or why. I know I was a little bit rude to you sometimes but you still dealt with it even when I hurt you. When I got in that bad mood, you always found a way to bring me down to feel like myself again.

As for the boys, they each had their own flaws when they first came into our lives. But to you their flaws made you try even harder to show them you loved them. However, I will never understand how you get the boys to cling onto you like they did. Maybe you just showed them the mother's love they were missing in their life. Hell, you even showed me mother's love, and you are my damn wife.

But my darling, I never got to apologize to you properly. Out of all the times I should've, you came and apologized like it was your fault. I never even said I forgave you most times, because most times it wasn't your fault.

I'm sorry for how I was towards you most of the time. Especially when you were upset about me putting myself and the boys in danger. I realize how bad it was. I apologize for all the times I broke your heart, and didn't help you put it back together.

But last of all, I'm sorry for sleeping with Talia while you were gone that one time. I don't understand myself why you stayed. I know that caused you so much pain and it ate at you when you found out Damian is my biological son.

For going through all this you are proven to be the strongest person I will have ever known.

My love, I failed you. I have said this when it's too late but I hope you're watching me and listening, because I want you to know I'm sorry.

Your pain and suffering has ended. Your long with your mental health is over. You were super strong , and thats why you are The Batmom.

I love and miss you,

Bruce Wayne."

He was crying the whole time he read that to your grave. Which secretly had nothing in it.

Why?

The public visits your grave and Bruce knew they would. But all of your boys had some of your ashes. Tim, had the most.

Bruce had a locket with your wedding picture on it and inside some of your ashes, which he clutched and his tears fell and he read the letter he wrote.

There he sat, underneath the cherry blossom tree at 2:45am, at your grave. His apology unheard by others but hopefully heard by you, Batmom.

#fanfic #bruce wayne #damian wayne x batmom #batmom #bruce wayne x reader #bruce x reader #dc comics #dc universe #bruce #bruce wayne x batmom #tim drake x batmom #dick grayson x batmom #jason todd x batmom #batman #batfam #angst #dcu

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p0rk-guts · 10 months ago

Text

Velvette if she served cunt

Design breakdown below 👇🏾(BEWARE IT'S VERY LONG)

Alright going into detail about my gripes and edits. Like Velvette but her design is just. Not good to me. None of her (main) outfit details look like they fit to me— pinstripe pants + long fur coat paired with black crop top and scene sleeves? Skull earrings? TINKERBELL HEELS????? Tell me how any of that meshes well or even makes SENSE for the social media influencer persona she's supposed to have going on. Now that I think about it I'm pretty sure she's supposed to be clown themed... But I'm just gonna toss that idea out bc being a revered social media influencer and a clown at the same time just seems a bit oxymoronic to me, and the "clown" details aren't adding shit for me.

And don't think I forgot about her features. Pale ash grey skin and wavy hair at best. If she was supposed to be some type of creature where a nonhuman skin tone would make sense then maybe I could let it go?? But as far as I can tell she doesn't have an object or creature or animal theme like the other V's and if she does I shouldn't need to do detective work to figure it out. There is no reason for *any* of these poc characters to have grey skin, especially since they don't have any other poc features at all.

Sorry that shit gets me heated anyways. Onto my redesign. Gave her a more obviously black skin tone and textured hair bc I love a 30 inch buss down as much as the next girl but considering how there are no significant poc cast members with visibly textured hair I think she deserves to flaunt some coils if no one else will.

Ngl I'm not. A fashion girlie. Idk what's trendy idk what screams "influencer" so a lot of this was just throwing shit at the wall that I've seen around recently but it looks cute enough to me. And there was a bit of inspiration taken from Aliyahcore and ghetto fabulous fashion ❤️

If you can't tell this is shamefully inspired by lovesart23's Velvette reimagining because imo they had some outstanding ideas for Vel. I low-key stole their idea for those floating eyes in her hair that follow her around and help her keep tabs on shit it was just a superb idea for a social media overlord to me. I also took some inspo from @furbtasticworksofart 's redesign because vampire influencer sucking up the souls of her followers in exchange for content??? Too good (also the eyes were supposed to have bat/vamp wings I just forgot 😭) So yeah she's a vampire demon now. Without the features she was looking too human anyhow. Maybe she also feeds off of the energy of her followers through tech like after Vox mind controls them or whatever... Idk idk is that anything

Speaking of Vox, the screen glasses are meant to connect her to him w/ their color and shape while serving the purpose of being like a second phone she can post and check the web with. Like lovesart said in their reimagining vid, Vel doesn't really do more than pose for selfies and scroll on her phone when it comes to social media so in my head she's constantly flipping her shades on and off, using them to scroll and stay active, and they can show when she's not paying attention or respect to something/someone bc scrolling is more worth her time in the moment.

The hearts everywhere are also supposed to kinda represent social media likes + connect her back to Val w/ his heart patterns. That might've been what the hearts in her og design were for but. I just didn't like their placement bc I'm a nitpicker and a hater❕

I have so much more I could say about possible ideas for Velvette because I love evil black girls and I only want them to succeed in my media and I could treat her so much BETTER but I'll refrain bc this is way too long anyway.

Alright for reading/scrolling through all that rambling I offer you the sketches + some alt hair ideas I had

P.S. I'm very open to constructive criticism but if I see anyone just dick riding in my replies or rb's I'm just blocking you on sight ✌🏾

#hazbin hotel #velvette #velvette hazbin hotel #velvette redesign #hazbin hotel redesign #my art #digital art #character design

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aviradasa · 5 months ago

Note

Hello! Hope you’re doing great? I saw you wanted some Sally face request…

Can we have some Sally face characters (Sal, Larry, Ash?) x reader make out headcanons ? 🥹 I think I’ll fall down on my knees for some Sal x reader or Larry x reader make out sessions 😭 thank u

AHH, thank you!! Would love to write this! Sorry if it's a bit short, especially towards the end.I was just really excited to post this. It's not my best work, but that just means there's room for more improvement! I hope you enjoy it anyway

Sal,Larry,ash Makeout Hc.

Sal/Larry/ash x reader (seprately)

{All characters are 18+}

{Warnings: some swearing, some sexual content}

Masterlist

Sal:

So, as an adult sal, I feel it is a bit less awkward and more Idgaf about dumb shit

So I feel like if you're close enough with him to not only be seeing his face and dating him, then he's pretty chill when making out. Unless you catch him off guard 😉

Normally, your guy's makeouts start pretty regular

Like you'll just be sitting together in your guys' room at the house watching a movie or listening to him playing guitar while you fuck around on the gearboy

Going with the latter, you'll be sneaking glances of him while he's just jamming out while trying to learn a song.

He just looks so relaxed and pretty even with his scars as his fingers move across the strings. His prosthetic is off, and sitting on the dresser and his fake eye is out and sitting in its cup, his blue hair is down and covers his face a bit casting shadows

Before you know it, you're not just sneaking glances. you're just full-on staring at him

And he knows. He lowkey finds it funny. Because with him, he doesn't try. He's not gonna try and get you flustered. It just happens and he's aware of it

He looks at you still playing, and he smiles at you. Just for a moment before looking back down at his guitar. And at that point, you're done.

You set down the gear boy without a word creeping towards him silently. He sees you but keeps trying to figure out the riff in the song just right

You creep up to his side, careful not to knock the neck of the guitar as you wrap your arms around his neck lazily.

"It sounds really good, baby. I think you almost got it." You compliment resting your chin on his shoulder

"Thanks, I think I've got it down pretty good. I just gotta get better with the timing. I'm holding the notes too long." He says before leaning forward to set the instrument against the dresser.

In a couple seconds, you find yourself weasling your way into his lap.

He holds you gently but firmly in place with one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your head tangled sweetly in your hair.

He's not really grabby. Of course, his hands will roam a bit, but he's more of a hold you in place, so you don't wanna go anywhere, guy.

Anyways

Even with his scarred lips, he's a good kisser. Very attentive. He knows what you're feeling and your intentions just by how you're kissing him, where your hands are,how hard you're gripping at him. He just gets it

Making out with him is full of emotion. Like, have you ever kissed someone, and you're just like I wanna write poetry about the feeling I have right now, but I don't have the words to even describe it

That's how kissing him/making out with him feels. And you can't help but grip onto him.

He can go on like this for ages.its not gonna get boring.

He will just lean back against the wall and prop his legs up so when you pull back, your face is above his.

He says he does that cause he likes pulling away to look into the eyes of the beauty before him.

Ok, he's a bit corny, but we love him

Also, his hands are pretty rough, I think, especially his fingertips. They are really calloused from playing guitar, and he might have some cuts and scrapes from messing around on the 5th floor of the apartments when he's told to go over there cause of Larry.

But anyways lol

Overall, he is amazing. An amazing partner and an amazing Makeout partner.hes just really chill, and it's honestly up to you a lot of the time if it leads to anything.lol

Unless you somehow find a way to make him jealous, and that extremely difficult to pull off 😉

Larry:

Larry is a rougher guy. Don't get me wrong, he's a sweetie, but he's really enthusiastic, and he's got a lot of energy

To be honest, making out is like his favorite pastime when yall are alone.

He just loves the feel of you being all up on him,and he's addicted to the taste of your lips.

Though he's not attentive as Sal, he's still a good kisser. Like I said, he's just rough cause he can't seem to get enough.

You guys will just be chilling in his room after the group leaves, and he'll just becken you over to him with a questioning grin, which you know what that means. If you don't come up to him he's not gonna force you.

Consent king. But honestly that can be said for all of them

There's really nothing emotional about it he's gripping, and he is grabbing. His hands will roam your body. So he likes to make out while laying down.

Couch,bed,floor, as long as he has access to everything. Like not necessarily always in a dirty way, he just likes the feeling of touching you.

Like he just loves it, feeling your body on/next to him is his favorite thing

Also His lips are chapped as hell, but that does not stop you guys.

And he does not just keep his lips on yours. Absolutely not. Making out with him is a dangerous game if you have any of the following

Stric parents (like if you have not moved out yet or if you are going to visit them), a job , a college life.

Cause he be leaving hickies. Like I'm talking big as purple hickeys. And they will be everywhere. It's like, are you dating a god damn vampire? It's not even bites, either it's just hickeys.

From your neck down to your fucking thighs just bruises

Ash once pulled you aside and asked if everything was OK cause she thought that the marks where from him beating on you instead of kissing you.

W ash, by the way, everyone needs a friend like her who will check up on you

But he just is a little rough. You love it, tho. But he will tone it down if you want him to.

Like shit you had a bad day? Come over here, lay down,relax, and he will slow down and pamper you with words and slow kisses.

What a sweetheart, and He's just happy to have you close to him.

Overall, he's more of a physical guy, so of course, the makeouts hold more of a physical value, which is alright! He loves you and that's just his way of showing it

Ash:

Ash is actually amazing at makeouts. She knows you entirely. Better than you know yourself sometimes

With her, you get everything. You want it to be a rougher Makeout.

Bet

Girls got you. She'll be all up on you kissing,grabbing,tugging,loving (always) she'll have you however you want.

She will do it all to satisfy, and you would do the same for her.

You want it soft bet, she's cuddling you while you guys lips move with each other while a movie plays in the background.

Making out with her is so calming to.

You could have had the most stressful days at work, and when you come home, she'll immediately be asking what's up noticing you're off.

It would probably be later she would mostly be ready for the evening in pajamas just chilling,and upon your response, she's giving you a hug and leading you into you guys room to talk.

After unloading your troubles, she'll just fuckin hold you and eventually it just turns into a lazy lil Makeout.

It's not much, but it feels so loving, and all your pain and troubles from the day feel like they are just melting away cause of her lips.

She takes care of herself as well, so her lips are pretty soft.

Along with her skin. Her hands are a bit calloused due to her constantly doing art projects and working on her motorcycle.

But it's kind of a nice contrast.

She does have wondering hands, but unlike Larry, she's not a grabber she's a feeler.

Her hands wonder in a calming yet attractive way, mostly across your arms and back, maybe over your thigh a but.

I guess she's a more sensual Makeout partner. But she's just overall amazing with it.

You always feel safe in her arms, and even better is that she's really good at makeouts without making them sexual.

Like a lot of the time, makeouts seem heavily sexual even when they aren't supposed to be, but with her, it's not sexual unless you both want it to be.

And you're grateful for it cause sometimes you just wanna be able to love on your partner without it being sexual and that's fine. She loves it to

She's just an amazing person and an amazing partner who knows you well and what you want as well as knowing herself and it shows.

#sally face x reader #sally face fanfiction #sally face fandom #sally face #sal #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #ash #ashley x reader #ashley campbell #ashley campbell x reader #larry x reader #larry johnson #larry johnson x reader #sally face headcanons

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rinhaler · 11 months ago

Note

i’m in love with your yakuza toji and shiu like actually OBSESSED!! if your requests are still open, can you do one like the meeting, but you’re being a brat to get their attention and they’re won’t do anything till after the meeting? you can see how the rest goes thoo!! lots of loveee -🦦anon

I'm so behind on requests I'm so sorry agdjsjklaghsj hopefully this is worth the wait tho!! Haven't thought about that drabble in forever but I'm glad u liked it so much!!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, daddy kink, exhibitionism?, public setting, cucking? shiu idk, reader used as an ashtray low key, spanking, pussy slaps, face slapping, vaginal sex, degradation, praise, creampie, orgasm denial, brat taming. (lmk if i missed any!)

words: 1.3k

“Daddy—”

“Shush, baby. Gotta pay attention.” Toji tells you, bringing his finger to his lips to tell you what you need to do. You need to be quiet and behave. And yet, you can’t.

You aren’t sure what’s wrong with you today. His jaw is strong and his muscular frame dominates the room. He won’t mind if you touch him a little, you’re sure. He’s just as insatiable as you are. More so, normally. You’re a little surprised to see him actually focus on a meeting for once, but you’re confident that you can steal his attention from it.

He looks down at his thigh as your hand settles there, dainty fingers start to grab and squeeze at his quads. They roam upwards towards his crotch, and you smile to yourself as you get closer and closer. Though you gasp, lightly, when you feel his hand grasp firmly around your wrist.

You look up to see his eyes fixed on yours. There isn’t a hint of amusement in his expression.

“Was daddy unclear when he said pay attention?” he asks. You quickly shake your head with a downtrodden pout. Even your little sniffles don’t bother him, his face stoic and unchanging. “I thought as much. So sit still and be quiet, brat.” he warns you.

You fold your arms over each other and you pout harder than you thought possible. Your eyebrows scrunch as you do all of you can to focus on the meeting, just like your daddy. But you can’t. It’s so boring and you just don’t care. It scares you to hear about murder and violence, even if it is menial to them.

It’s their norm, not yours.

“S-Shiu…” you whisper, turning your head to face Toji’s second in command who sits on the other side of you. “Wanna go home.”

You don’t notice Toji looking at you, but Shiu does. It’s brief, but scathing. A subtle look out of the corner of his eyes to display his frustration with you. Shiu swallows lightly, feeling sorry for your predicament. Normally Toji is so mindful of you and your neediness, he can’t help but wonder what has encouraged his boss’ change of heart today. Perhaps he’s trying to train you better. Regardless, he clears his throat and looks into your eyes.

“You can be good for a few more minutes, sweetheart.” Shiu tells you as he checks the time on his wristwatch. “Not much longer, promise.” he assures you, he lightly holds your chin and strokes it with his thumb.

Just a few more minutes.

“Keep your fucking legs open or I’m not touchin’ your cunt for the rest of the year.” Toji warns you. You sniff as tears spill from your lashline, slowly opening your legs again for the man circling the meeting table. You yelp as a stinging slap comes down atop your thigh, and another harsh wet smack hits your pussy.

“Ah!” you scream, squirming from the impact.

“Sh, sh shhh, ‘m here.” Shiu coos from behind you.

You’re flat against the desk while Shiu stands behind you. Your wrists are crossed while he holds them against the table above your head. His cigarette dangles from his lips, and you can’t help but wince as ash flickers down on occasion.

Toji told him to use you like an ash tray.

“I fuck you one time in a meeting, and you think that’s how they’re all gonna go? Hm.” Toji states. It feels like a question, though you don’t try to speak in fear of making things worse. Your eyes roll back as his thumb carefully rubs over your clit, only twice, before he wipes the residue on your exposed stomach. “Glad you’re wet, jus’ how daddy likes…” he starts.

“You risk embarrassing your daddy when you misbehave like that, you know.” Shiu tells you. He’s seamlessly able to pin your wrists down with just one hand, deciding to flick ash down into your face to accentuate his point. “Do you want people to think he’s weak?”

“N-No! Daddy isn’t weak!” you explain. You should be ashamed of yourself when your eyes cross and you silence yourself with a bite to your lower lip as Toji stuffs his thick cock into you.

“You should have just fucked her.” Shiu smiles. You don’t even react when you feel his palm land harshly against your cheek. In fact, your tongue lolls as you lose yourself to the feeling of being their toy. “Look how quiet she’s being now, little slut.”

“You don’t even deserve my cock,” Toji speaks. And you know he’s right.

You shouldn’t be rewarded for disobeying him like you did. But you don’t care, you’re getting what you wanted all along. Toji does your thinking for you, after all. And right now, he doesn’t want you to think. He just wants to remind you that you’re his dumb pet. He wants to remind you of what you love so much and what he can easily take away if you choose to act up again.

“Wasn’t gonna do this for ya, princess. But I can’t help myself, not when there’s a perfect wet cunt in my face.”

Shiu strikes your face again. And your face contorts as you feel dry, tarred ash land on the tip of your tongue after he aims it to land there. You almost choke from the vile taste, but you’re prevented from thinking again as Shiu offers you a third and final slap on your cheek.

The hardest one yet.

“Say ‘thank you’ to your daddy.” he orders.

“T-Thank you daddy! Thank you.” you cry, looking into his eyes as he continues to perfectly angle his cock into your sweet spot. You know you won’t last much longer at this rate. You want to tell him. You want to tell him that you aren’t going to be able to hold out and that you’re going to make a mess any second now. “I love you, d-daddy!” you wail, and he smirks.

“Yeah? You fuckin’ love me?” he chuckles. “I love you, princess, such a good girl f’me.”

“S-So much!” you answer. “Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou I—!”

“Something tells me she’s going to cum, Toji.” Shiu smirks. He looks down at you, focusing on your eyes as they begin to squint harder and harder. “Are you cumming for daddy, sweetheart? Are you going to let her?” he asks, looking at his superior after speaking to you.

Toji grunts as he cums inside of you, and you feel the warmth spread throughout your womb. You feel so full. So content. Because this is what you wanted all along. You wanted daddy’s love. And it’s almost enough to pull you over the edge right along with him.

But his hips begin to slow, the pressure he’d built up within you begins to dissipate and you feel like you’ve been thrown out of a rocket ship without any gear. You’re starved for oxygen and you can’t take a single breath.

“Daddy, daddy don’t stop.. ‘m g-gonna cum for you. I was s-o so close!” you whimper, lip wobbling as you try your damnedest to convince him to finish you off, too.

But you don’t like the look in his eye. The menacing, mischievous look that tell you no such thing shall transpire. You aren’t going to get to cum. After all of this, you don’t get to fucking cum.

“I will decide when you are allowed to cum again, princess.” Toji tells you. “But after your bratting today, that won’t be for a very long time.”

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sobredunia · 9 months ago

Text

Hey guys is it just me or are the stars in the sky looking a bit weirder than usual

Alt version + tagging of the creators of all the starlos under the cut

I was messing with this static filter thing and ngl it looks neat

anyways. tagging avalanche time. Left to right up to down

RustyRedemption!Starlo by EldritchDream_ on twitter (THE BODY/PLANT HORROR IS JUST *chefs kiss*) edit: THEY HAVE A TUMBLR THEY HAVE A TUMBLR THEY GET TO SEE THIS LET'S GOOOOO @eldritchdream99 LOOK!! ITS UR SILLY!!!

AntiMatter!Starlo by ghoulishthingz on twitter (I KNOW YOUR NAME NOW FUCKER. v good one ngl it fucks severely)

Hero!Starlo by @zedleaked (he b t-posing baybeyy)

Goldstar by @s0ckh3adstudios (fun fact I named the layer he's on "I miss my husband Tails". also this is the first time i've drawn him. and yet i've drawn utg chujin thrice already which i think says something. not sure what but it says something)

Gilded!Starlo by @moreworldliness (I LOVE HIM SOSO MUCH I JUST WANT HIM TO BE OKAY PLEASE)

VOACT!Starlo by mee :3

Sirius by @here1snyan (I don't need to explain myself you already know how insane this man makes me you've seen the dog art)

Nebula by @llamapear (THE FUCKING GUY OF ALL TIME)

Starry screen buddy by @therealcallmekd (i love his girl outfit i had to draw it)

Fell!Starlo by @pantamonte (he's so silly i want to see him flattened by a steam roller /pos)

Lover's amalgamate by @silverika326 (literally obsessed with this concept you dont even know. ive wanted to draw them for so long)

Devotion!Starlo by @specklx (really proud of how the pose came out ngl. he serves so much cunt)

Apollo by @vastrophel (not exactly a starlo but the design fucks how could i not draw him)

Cat!Starlo by @fivepedal (i lov. kimty :3 )

Starfell by @stringsbasement-vitale (he gives off ACAB vibes you just know he'd be a redswap starlo hater)

Redswap!Starlo by @wist-eri (I'm sorry i had to do it. i have literally never drawn this man in a serious situation/taking the situation seriously and I'm not gonna start now)

Hollow!Starlo by @floataaaa (literally the design of all time i love him)

Alright that's all of them. I have drawn so many stars my god

also. art taglist time

@rotkad @sansxfuckyou @blackfright @beetroot-merchant @ashs-hellhole @h3xt0r @bree-sae @helloidkwhatimdoing-0 @zecrisketch

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miley1442111 · 8 months ago

Text

fresh out the slammer- a.hotchner

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: yes, i am a swifty- sorry lmao.

intended for fem reader!

summary: based off of fresh out the slammer by taylor swift

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: sad ending, talk of falling out of love, aaron is still in love with Haley

the tortured poets department masterlist

Now pretty baby, I'm running back home to you

Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to

Fresh out the slammer, oh

Aaron unlocked the door to your shared home, one thought on his mind. Haley.

He missed her more than life itself. He missed being a family with Jack and her. He missed it all.

You were his girlfriend, you should’ve been on his mind. You had been there for him during his recent recovery after the stabbings with Foyet, you were working at all hours to try and find Foyet, you were always there for him. He loved you, truly.

But you weren't Haley.

Another summer takin' cover, rolling thunder

He don't understand me

Splintered back in winter, silent dinners, bitter

He was with her in dreams

He lay beside you in your bed. You were already asleep, soft snores falling from your beautiful lips. A certain unease settled into Aaron’s body. He realised something slowly, and it led to a heavy sense of dread, shame, regret, and guilt.

He didn’t love you. He was still in love with Haley.

He thought of Haley everyday, every night. He wondered what she was doing, now that he didn’t know where she or Jack was.

Sleep evaded him that night.

Gray and blue and fights and tunnels

Handcuffed to the spell I was under

For just one hour of sunshine

Years of labor, locks, and ceilings

In the shade of how he was feeling

But it's gonna be alright, I did my time

Weeks passed and Aaron became more and more distant. He cancelled dates, came home late, he was reckless at work.

You felt hopeless. You knew something was wrong, but you couldn’t figure out what. You decided to confront him, staying up late enough to catch him.

“Aaron, what’s going on?” You asked as he walked into your shared bedroom. He stared at you for a moment, then sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Nothing,” he lied.

“Aaron, I’m a profiler too. Tell me.”

He felt conflicted. He liked you, a lot. He’d been dating you for a year. He’d thought he was over Haley, he was wrong. “I’m not in love with you anymore, I’m not sure I ever was.”

Your heart broke, but you swallowed it back. “Ok,” you whispered and got up, grabbing your go-bag and walking out. Aaron didn’t chase you. He didn’t want to.

You got into your car and let yourself break down. He never loved you. He was still in love with Haley. You were just a placeholder for her.

You went to Penelope’s place, knowing she’d be there for you. She let you in immediately and comforted you to sleep.

Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you

Frеsh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to

(Frеsh out the slammer, oh)

Haley was dead. You felt devastated for Aaron and Jack, not enough to speak to him though. You attended the funeral, you stood beside the rest of the team, then went straight to Strauss. You handed in you badge and gun, leaving the BAU behind. You cut everyone off, blocking their numbers, moving house, taking up a job in the CIA instead.

Aaron had officially lost you. In the weeks of your breakup, he’d realised how wrong he was, that he had loved you, that he was in love with you.

Camera flashes, welcome bashes, get the matches

Toss the ashes off the ledge

As I said in my letters, now that I know better

I will never lose my baby again

He spent weeks trying to find you, finding nothing. You’d asked one of your new colleagues to essentially wipe your existence off the face of the earth. You changed your name, you changed.

He’d made Penelope look for you for months, he went to your family as a last result.

“You want to know where Y/n is?” Your father asked. “We thought you’d know.”

His heart stopped. You were missing.

He got the team on it immediately, until Strauss called him in.

“Aaron, Y/n Y/l/n is not missing. She’s been reassigned,” she explained.

“Why can’t we find her then! All of her accounts were drained and closed, her family don’t know where she is, and she left the BAU!” He demanded.

“She was reassigned Aaron, that’s the end of it.”

He was helpless. You were gone.

My friends tried, but I wouldn't hear it

Watch me daily disappearing

For just one glimpse of his smile

All those nights, he kept me goin'

Swirled you into all of my poems

Now we're at the starting line, I did my time

He took a leave of absence from the BAU for a month, deciding to try and find you on his own. He looked through everything on you, tried to remember details you’d told him, but he came up with nothing.

Until he saw you on a case.

Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin'

To the house where you still wait up and that porch light gleams (Gleams)

To the one who says I'm the girl of his American dreams

And no matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway

Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake here

At the park where we used to sit on children's swings

Wearing imaginary rings

You were a CIA agent, you were happy the way you were. You’d found a husband in the 2 years since you’d left the BAU. He loved you and adored you like you were supposed to be adored. He was a childhood best friend, one you’d had a crush on as a child. Aaron walked into the CIA building and saw you with your hand in his. His world crumbled for the third time in his life.

You had found someone else. You shot him and the entire team a small, knowing smile, and assisted them on their case.

“We thought you’d died,” Derek admitted as you were all cleaning up the conference room they were using as an office.

“Well technically Y/n died, I’m Y/n/n now. Y/n/n Scott,” You smiled, showing off your wedding ring and smiling at your husband, the other CIA agent that was helping with the investigation. Aaron’s stomach turned. At least you were happy.

But it's gonna be alright, I did my time

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ordowrites · 6 months ago

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when you are sad

cw: none, simple fluff and comfort, self indulgent, no pronouns used / gn!reader. slight vent, i'm sorry. established relationships.

characters: diluc, kaeya, wanderer

bad days, weeks, months are simply just bound to happen. that's sometimes how it is, and kaeya is no stranger to such things. he'd mourned the loss of family many times, and has his own, long bouts of depression.

misery loves company and he finds you out at starsnatch cliff, staring up at the endless sky and for a moment, he considers leaving you to yourself, knowing that sometimes being alone is better but he can't help but linger for a brief moment.

finally, kaeya simply elects to sit next to you and gently drapes his arm around you and pulls you close.

"it's gonna be okay." he murmurs as you slump against him. "i promise." it feels like lip service but it's all he can offer when in reality, he would take on all your troubles if it means never seeing that somber, upset look on your face ever again. he holds you closer and you rest your head on his chest. "i love you."

he never says those words out loud to anyone - let alone you, the one who caught his eye so long ago.

"i love you." he repeats, firmly. "i know it can't fix whatever is going on, but just...just remember that."

you are all the things that are right in this world - you are ambitious, outspoken, there is not a moment where you have surrendered simply because the going got tough. yet, seeing you in tears and frustrated has diluc at a loss.

your spirit is like wildfire, it burns everything in its path and here it is, damped and gone, in the wake, ashes.

"what's the matter, my beloved?" diluc is tender when he gently cups your face and wipes away your tears. it doesn't matter if you tell him or not, you'll talk about it when you're ready. "hey, hey, shhh..." he grunts in surprise when you grip him into a tight hug. "it's okay, it's okay, i'm here."

unlike kaeya, diluc isn't very good with words and he doesn't always know how to make things better (and sometimes tends to worsen things) so when you hug him, all he can do is hold you just as tightly.

he has adelinde make you your favorite food - after all, food is a love language - and prepare you a bath that you can soak in. it doesn't fix the problem, but he hopes it can at least provide some sense of comfort.

there's something about your expression that's frustrating him - the wanderer is not unfamiliar with human emotion, in fact, he understands them quite well after four hundred some years but he is perplexed by you. normally, you return his snark ten fold, you're loud, you're obnoxious, and pushy, and when he calls you an ass, you have ten times worse words for him.

"what do you want?" you ask him, tone flat. you're exhausted, he notes as he takes the seat across from you. "go away, i don't have time."

"well, i do." he retorts.

you roll your eyes. "news flash, the world does not revolve around you."

"it should," the wanderer responds, crossing his arms over his chest. "tell me what's wrong."

"i don't want to." you respond.

he snorts. "fine, have it your way." he says, grumpily. "but don't think, for a minute, i'm leaving your depressed ass alone."

"why?" you have the audacity to ask.

the wanderer, for once, does not have a proper answer for you. or a retort. he simply just stares, hopes you drop it and let it go. after awhile, he gets up and goes inside the cafe and orders you some cake and some weird sounding cold coffee. humans and their need to change things.

"a wise deity once told me that sweets can sooth the soul." he says, upon your quizzical look. "i assume she must be right."

for the first time in the two hours, you crack a small smile. and the wanderer feels victorious.

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silverselfshippingchaos · 6 months ago

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i love my husband he's so silly goofy!!

#ash rambles 💚#went on a rant today about how much i hate his source material LMAAOO #i tried to be a fan for so long but after reading the shitty light novels? what a fucking cesspool of problematic shit lmao #i get that the point of the series is that everyone sucks but come on. theyre fucking unlikable #and i hate the fandom #so much #nobody hates s.hizaya like i do. you could even say i dislike i.zaya. all the power to people who him #i just think he's a dick #interesting character maybe. but a dick. also admittedly ive had beef with people who lile him so. yrah #also i think n.arita is a shitty writer #i dont think this series is well written #and this isnt really something i wanna argue but like #it's my blog. i get to speak my truth #however #the series does have my dream man! the man of my dreams! my knight in shining armor! my ideal type! my wonderful and amazing husband!!!!#he's such a comfort to me and i love him #he's amazing #and a great dad #to both my fankid and her pet dog #I'm sorry if this post is incoherent lmao I've been doing hw all day and I'm beat #also i have my drivers exam tmr so like.. wish me luck!#IM ALSO GOING TO THE F.INAL F.ANTASY ORCHESTRA TOMORROW?!?!?!?+#j^×*÷&=&×^÷&@^jahshqysAHJSQGRJQYUEHWJEGWJE #oh i forgot to use husband's tag..#kissing in the van 💍#okay there we go #I'm gonna get back to homework now #i literally just came here to be a hater LMAAOO #also i love my husband he's amazing #and i do wanna say that there are some things abt the series i do like. please dont flame me (after all. I'm already ash. HAHAHAHAHA!!!!)

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year ago

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Pretty like the wind

Precious chapter / Epilogue

a/n part fifteen! Right so, welcome to the end of it all. I genuinely from the bottom of my heart didn't expect you all to love this series so much. It's hands down one of my favorite project through a year of writing. It breaks me to know that we are meeting here with all of them for the very last time... You will get an epilogue chapter after this so. Second to last, let's say. Enjoy! And thank you once again. ✨🤍🫧

warning: kids - a fan favorite, past trauma, injuries, self sabotage. Nothing major, I promise.

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All Azriel remembered was the excruciating pain that ripped through every fiber of his body as he took step after step down the mountain from the fallen sanctuary. He had roared for Rhys, but either from his share of luck, at a second chance at life, or the level to which his body had been drained, Azriel was nowhere near his high lord mental shields. So he walked with your limp body in his hands. His wings dragged behind him. Jaw flexed. Teeth grinding against one another. Azriel took shaky steps. Because he never, not even in thousands of years, was gonna give up a chance to save you.

He collapsed shortly after reaching the burned outskirts of the city. Anger and dread pooled in his gut. He couldn't give up. Couldn't lose consciousness. Yet his knees dipped, and Azriel was on the hard ground. You slipped out of his grip, the pearlescent sheen of your hair and skin mixing with the ashes. "I'm so sorry," Azriel had breathed as he laid there beside you, feeling his body draining of last bits of strength. "If only I hadn't met you," he breathed, and the words alone shredded his heart. Because, as much as he tried to tell himself that you all would have been safer without him interfering, the spymaster couldn't imagine living in a world where you three weren't the center of his heart. But maybe that was the same selfish part of him. So deeply rooted in him. No matter what, he always ended up thinking how he couldn't live a life without the feeling of you in his chest and without the laughter of the kids. Azriel had let out a shaky breath, and then everything turned to darkness.

He had woken up in his bed sometime later. Rhys was sitting by his side. His faces were so dull and pained that it almost made Azriel want to reassure him, but he couldn't because the wave of anger that had rippled through Azriel was way stronger. The spymaster sat up quickly, pulling the blanket off. "Azriel," Rhys had let out a shaky breath. "Where are they?", black dots sprung into Azriel's vision, but he stood up regardless. "I think you should..." Rhys stared, but Azriel quickly cut him off. "I think you should tell me where my family is before I do something we might end up regretting down the line." His voice was rough and bitter.

"Give me a chance to...", Rhys pleaded as he stepped closer to Azriel. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, but Azriel didn't let them sway his judgment. "Give you a chance to what? Tell me that you all love me but sabotaged the best thing in my life because you didn't care all that much". His words were venom. Pure lethal venom. But the panic that rushed through Azriel was too strong. Too... "So I'll ask you one last time, where is my family?" His tone turned even deeper, "Where are my kids?" Rhys just stared at him. One heartbeat too long. Azriel growled as he yanked the door open. Swaying as he stepped into the hallway, on good days, when his scenes were intact, he would be able to find them with the emotional pull alone. But now... The spymaster was a mess as he wiped his head in different directions.

"Axel!", he yelled, not caring what hour it was. "Zofie," he breathed. He had to see them. "Ax!", Azriel roared, followed by the second part of his plea, "Zo!" The sound of the door opening somewhere down the hall made Azriel turn his head back. Nyx had stepped out, his weary eyes watching the spymaster. "In here, uncle," the boy called out softly, his eyes drawing back to the room. Azriel let out a relieved sigh as he rushed forward.

Axel met him almost halfway, and it was enough to almost send Azriel back on his knees. The feeling of these messy black curls beneath his fingers eased some of the worry. "Papa," Axel breathed into Azriel's chest. "I got you, my worrier; you did good," the spymaster muttered into the boy's hair. "I was trying to look for you. I was trying," Axel's lip trembled. Too little. They were too little for this. "And I should have been there sooner; I'm sorry, Ax," but the boy simply shook his head. "You're here now," he said, his tiny hands wrapped around Azriel's neck, and for a moment, Azriel just kneeled there, holding him.

Madja stepped out. A kind smile on her face. Azriel's puzzled eyes met her, and she knew that she had to put out the flames burning within the spymaster quickly, or they would all blaze in it. "Both girls are okay," she said in a comforting voice. "Y/n just needs to rest; your mother is with her." The healer reached for Azriel's cheek in a similar way Cordelia always did. "Zofie?", Azriel breathed out. "She needs you the most out of all of them now," Madja stepped aside, and Azriel let go of Axel as he pushed into the room.

The moment the dim lights cast a shadow over the shadowsinger, Nyx let go of Zofie's hand. Moving away from the bed, "Nyx being here helped her a lot," Madja said from behind, trying to earn a free pass for the boy now that Azriel was less himself than most of the time. But at that moment, he didn't even register his nephew's actions. Because all he saw was a sickly pale girl lying in bed. "Little star," he breathed as he reached out to brush some of her messy hair away from her face. He drew his fingers back momentarily because the girl was colder than any ice Azriel had ever touched.

He quickly sat down on the bed, pushing some of the covers away from her frail body and biting his teeth at the sight of her already in his shirt. He was her anchor. Empaths didn't know how to shield in the early stages. So they, in a way, hung on their lifelines—a person, an object—something that could swallow their overwhelming emotions and fill the cracks up with calmness. Azriel scooped Zofie up with one hand. The girl let out a pained grumble. Mother only knew how many suppressed emotions were clawing at her from within.

"You're okay," Azriel breathed as he moved her up and onto his chest. The moment the two of them came into full contact, Zofie let out the deepest sigh. And that was when it struck Azriel. For the very first time, he could feel the emotions pouring through him. Fear, worry, anger, and helplessness but he welcomed it all regardless. He would endure just so she could get better. Just so she would no longer have to hurt. He would do it over and over again for her. Until she was strong enough to protect herself. And even when she's older and in control, he would still never decline her request for help.

A tiny, cold finger fisted into his shirt, making Azriel look down. Here she was. His baby girl. Her golden eyes were slightly dazed, but she still held a firm gaze as she looked up at him. "Azzy," she breathed, the spymaster's lips curving upward instantly. "Hey, my little star, who dared dimming your light, huh?" Zofie's face scrunched up instantly. As if she was slowly plunging back into the events of the past few days. Then her eyes grew big. "We... had a card made for you... it," she muttered, her gaze falling into the room as she searched for Axel. If was way to sweet that that was the first thing she worried about. "I saw it. It was very pretty," Azriel muttered, right as Axel crawled onto the bed beside them. "You saw it?" Zofie's voice was barely a whisper, and Azriel could feel the worry building up within her. "You both know it would be an honor if you two called me dad or papa," Azriel said, looking at the two kids who gaped at him. "Just no father; it sounds too old-fashioned." Azriel barely managed to speak his last words as the sea of tiny libs was all over him. The spymaster wrapped both of the wings around the overly excited younglings. Savoring the sound of their squeals and giggles.

"So, we're a real family?", Zofie asked as her head hit Azriel's chest. His fingers instantly reached to twirl around the ends of her hair. Axel bit his lip as he looked at Azriel. "Mommy, papa, and us," the boy breathed, his eyes glistening, and Azriel had to blink a couple of times more so he wouldn't start crying in front of them. But Axel frowned slightly, "You do love Y/n, right?" Here was that protective thread that was never far behind. "They are mated, Ax," Zofie huffed tiredly. Azriel was about to ask how she knew that, but then she probably not only felt but also saw emotions. "So we were always meant to find each other?", Axel mused. Azriel reached out for the boy, and he wasted no time snuggling into Azriel's side. "We were always meant to be a family," the spymaster breathed, kissing both of their hands softly.

"You too can catch a cold, you know?", your voice made Azriel flinch slightly as he turned to you, already moving to get up from the patio in his mother's backyard. "You shouldn't be standing," he huffed, his shadows instantly swarming all around you. That's how it has been ever since you woke up. You had to admit at first that you needed his help to do everything. He carrying you around places. He feed you and helped you stand. You had drained so much of yourself that it had taken a toll on your body like nothing before.

"It's been weeks, Az," you breathed as his arms wrapped around your middle, taking most of the weight from your feet. "I won't get better if I just lay in bed," you grumbled. "Last time I checked, that's exactly what would happen if you stayed in bed," Azriel huffed. You twisted in his embrace. "You should be resting as well," you said, cupping his face. It all felt almost like a fever dream. It almost felt as if time had moved way too quickly. You didn't even remember how you ended up back at Cordelia's house, where you four had been living ever since. Azriel shook his head. "I can't sleep," he muttered, shaking his head. "Every time I close my eyes, all I see is you or the kids dying," you pressed your forehead against his. Letting him breathe his emotions out. "But we are all here," you mumbled, looking up at him. Azriel's face hardened. "By pure luck and all because Rhys...", "Azriel, you can't blame him forever," you sighed. That was another thing that had changed. Azriel had stepped down from his court duties. He had cut off his family completely, and with that, you had a bone to pick. "Watch me," he breathed, turning away from you, but you quickly cupped his cheek. "Make it my winter solstice gift," you muttered, "At least think about it." Sighing, you pressed your head against his chest as your arms snaked around his torso. Azriel kissed the top of your head, still weary of the nail scabs on your scalp.

"How does your head feel?" he muttered softly. It was torture watching your hazy eyes the first time you woke up. You just lay there, staring at the ceiling. No reactions. There were no signs of any awareness to your surroundings. But Azriel didn't budge, regardless. "It's okay, I still can't summon though," you muttered against his chest, savoring his heat. The morning wind wasn't as pleasant now that winter was around the corner. Snow not only covered the mountains but also in the city. "You drained yourself raw... for me," Azriel's arms squeezed around you just a tag stronger. "I'll do it all over again," you mumbled, kissing his chest right over his heart. Azriel shook his head and said, "I'll do everything so you will never have to go through anything like that ever again. Two times too many", he said softly. You knew he meant it. Meant all of his words every time he spoke them. And even more so, you knew that no matter what you said, his burden, at least for now, would not get any lighter. So you pressed yourself closer to him, pouring love through the bond, hoping to warm him from the very inside of his heart.

"No, go left," Zofie huffed, her finger pointing to the exact location where she wanted Axel to hang the ornament. Axel clapped his little wings as he looked back at his sister, who had inspected the placement, before nodding her head. "That's where I put it five minutes ago," the boy grumbled as his feet hit the wooden floor. "It was not," Zofie huffed as she continued to match different ribbons with the glass ornaments. "Females," Axel said, rolling his eyes. "I heard you," Zofie said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Hey, you two. No fighting", you said from the sofa, Azriel had practically tied you to. You knew that it was a huge deal for them. They had never celebrated the solstice properly. let alone in a loving family. "He's being rude," Zofie said, sticking her tongue out, and Axel quickly crossed his arms over his chest, "Look at what I need to deal with." You let out a chuckle. If only they knew how lucky they were to have one another when these moody swings hit. "I think you two are long overdue for a hug," you said softly, pulling the blanket off your legs as if you had triggered the alarm shadows swirled into the room, making you roll your eyes. Don't you dare, you muttered into the bond. You couldn't even see him, but you knew the smug idiot had a smirk on his face. We made a deal. You promised to lay down for the evening. You shook your head. I've been glued to the sofa for the past two hours. Get over yourself, mother hen.

"Go on, a little hug won't hurt you two," you urged the two younglings, who both huffed and puffed till they were wrapped up in one another. And the look on their faces changed. There was only happiness there. "Why do we only call grammy these days?" , Zofie tilted her head to the side, "Uncles don't visit, and we don't get to play with Nyx." A warm smile spread to your lips. Leave it to little Zofie to worry about everyone who was a part of her little world. Don't even think about it. Azriel warned you, but you quickly ushered him out of your mind.

"Papa is a bit upset with them," Gods, you will never get used to the joy of referring to Azriel as their dad. "There were some misunderstandings that involved all of us," you softly cupped both of their faces, "And because we respect Azriel's emotions, we will support his choice... for now." "So, he's brooding," Zofie stated bluntly, making you laugh a little. "I think so, sweetheart", you had conversations with them about what happened. Mother, they have been sleeping with you and Azriel ever since. Too afraid of the dark, of little sounds, of monsters that fly through the door.

You could pull yourself through the pain, but watching them suffer in the aftermath was more torturous than feeling the last bits of your power leave your body. "But...Granny said that high lady likes lemon biscuits, and it's her birthday soon," Axel said while helping Zofie tie up the knots of the colorful threads. "We should make her some and go visit them," Zofie said, clapping her hands. Her emotions were fragile these days. Azriel would cut his sulking hunts in the forest short, almost daily. Winnowing back just so she could recharge once more. I said, Don't think about it. Azriel grumbled once more. "Go, pull up the bowl. I'll come help you shortly", you smiled at the kids who had been halfway through the door before you had even finished your sentence.

A part of Azriel knew that he should have moved on some time ago. His anger had simmered down. He wasn't even mad. But sometimes disappointment was stronger than anger. He had felt neglected by them all when he was desperate to get with Elain, and he could look past that. You were a whole different story. You were his mate. Azriel had gone to hell to protect Feyre, all because she was important to Rhys. He and Cassian had almost died for her and for what?

"I knew I would find you here." As if summed, the Lord of Bloodshed stepped out in the clearing. "When have these trees grown so big?", he muttered. "Please, no small talk, or I will winnow out of here," Azriel grumbled, pulling his daggers out of the tree trunk. "It's good to see you; you know it's no fun now that I'm the funniest in the family", Cassian nudged Azriel's shoulder, but the spymaster didn't share the enthusiasm.

"How's Nesta?", Azriel watched as Cassian's face lit up at the mention of his mate. "She started showing," he muttered, his eyes filling up with proud tears. They had all been so supportive of Feyre's pregnancy. It was a family thing. Sure, the dad got the worst spells of protectiveness, but even Cassian and Azriel would find themselves growling at people they didn't trust around her. Now Azriel couldn't help but wonder if Cassian felt more vulnerable because he didn't have two sets of extra eyes looking out for the mother of his child.

"I miss you, you know," Cassian breathed, right as Azriel threw one of his daggers at his makeshift target. "Rhys is also practically going bald. Come on, man, you owe him at least one conversation." There had been times when the spymaster thought he would never pay his debts to his high lord. But that had been then. "I have nothing to tell him," Azriel grunted. "Now you're being a little bitch," Cassian said, moving to stand right in front of his brother, "They fucked with the report Rhys got. Do you seriously think that he would play with the lives of your family?"

Azriel's turned away abruptly. "We've all been in positions where we thought we'd never see our mates again, so I know that you are pissed off," Cassian pulled at Azriel's shoulder. "Fuck it; I can be mad alongside you if you want. But we are family. We talk shit out". Azriel slowly felt his walls crumbling. They had spent almost their whole lives together. For years, it had just been Cassian and him when Rhys got taken under. A choked-out cry slipped past the spymaster's lips, and Cassian didn't even waste a single moment as he wrapped Azriel in his arms.

It was the laughter that greeted him as he walked through his mother's door that, just as all the times before, set all of his worries free. Azriel stopped by the door. Closing his eyes for a second. Letting the sounds surround him. Fill in his broken parts. This was home. You were his home. Azriel had barely managed to get his muddy boots off when the most excited shriek filled his ears.

"Papa," and here it was the most beautiful thudding of tiny feet against the floor. He caught Zofie mid-jump as she moved to squish his cheeks. "Cold," she muttered at Azriel's rosy cheeks. "Been outside for a while, bug, that's all," he reassured her. She seemed seemingly pleased with the answer as she shimmied out of his grip, opting to pull him by the hand instead. The silent command was clear, so Azriel didn't even fight it.

And there was his other half of the heart. Both covered in flour from head to toe. "What happened to making cookies?", Azriel chuckled slightly. Axel hopped off the table, his hands leaving white imprints on Azriel's black clothes. The look merely lasted a moment, but the mischievous laughter that left both of the kids said it all, and within minutes, Azriel was chasing them around the kitchen. "Duck!" Axel shouted, and Zofie quickly hid beneath the table. Yet her laughter didn't die. Axel jumped off the chair, throwing the last bit of crumbly dough at Azriel before he too took shelter beneath the table.

Azriel turned his attention to you. Leaning against the counter, biting your lip, trying not to laugh. "Excuse me, miss; maybe by any chance you've seen rebels running around," he asked in his spymaster tone, making you snicker. "Two rebels?", you put your hand on your chest as Azriel approached you. "Kind sir, they could be far away from this kingdom by now," hushed giggles sounded from beneath the table. Don't call me that when kids are around. Azriel growled into your mind, making you smirk slightly. Got it, sir kink it is. You purred back right as Azriel wrapped his arms around you, spinning you around. You shrieked and giggled as you held onto his muscular arms for support. "Help, help," you pleaded, right as Azriel playfully started to nibble at your neck.

"Don't threaten, princess; help is here." Axel's little voice sounded from behind, right as another lump of dough hit Azriel in the back of his head. More giggling erupted right after as Azriel swirled back to catch a glimpse of their next move. "You all were allies; how did I not realize?" he mumbled in a half-dead tone. Scooping up a handful of flour and throwing it at the two little monkeys, who were already climbing the counter, fearlessly leaping off it and into Azriel's arms. The spymaster twirled them both around. Trying to escape their sticky hands but finding no luck there. His stomach hurt from the laughter, and for the first time in a long time, Azriel felt so alive. The nagging fears had been shoved in the back of his head, locked under the heaviest iron door. Upfront was the side of Azriel he never thought he would get to show.

The two kids huffed for air in between their giggles, and Azriel slowly lowered them down. "You two win," he muttered, watching the two of them high-fiving one another while lying on the kitchen floor breathlessly. "You got some dough here," you pointed to the side of Azriel's face. "Oh, just there, nowhere else?" he teased back, earning a shake of the head from you. You walked closer to him, picking the bigger chunks out of his hair. "Still attractive?", Azriel asked, holding onto your hips. "Yeah, not bad", you shrugged your shoulders. Azriel pulled you in quickly, brushing his lips against yours softly.

"We have dinner tomorrow with the rest of the family," he muttered quietly, making your eyes grow big, "Bumped into Cassian; he invited us. " You could tell that he was still so hesitant, but he was trying to open his heart once more for his first family. "That's amazing; we already made cookies, and a cake is sitting in the fridge." Azriel raised an eyebrow, "You made a cake?" You simply hummed, "Let's just say I knew that I was going to get you there one way or another." You shrugged, making the spymaster shake his head.

Slowly, he pushed the strand of hair away from your face. "Hey, you two," Azriel said softly. "It looks like it's bath time for you." Axel helped Zofie up, but the girl only huffed, "Just say that you want to make out with her," the girl muttered, making Azriel choke on his breath as he hit his chest a couple of times while coughing. You let out a chuckle, feeling your cheeks heating slightly. "Come on, Zo, the faster we go, the faster they will finish," Axel waved a hand in your and Azriel's direction before dragging his sister through the door.

"They are too smart for their own good," a couple of Azriel's shadows followed them through the door as well. "So, are we going to make out or what?", you asked, catching Azriel off guard slightly before he sat you back on the counter. "I'm proud of you for accepting the dinner offer," you said as you brushed your fingers through his messy hair. "I can't promise I won't growl and scowl," Azriel let out a sigh. "That's okay, I'll scratch your ear," you smiled, and Azriel instantly moved to tickle your side.

"Can I tell you a secret?", Azriel muttered against your ear. You draped your hands over his shoulders loosely, nodding your head. "But you can't tell anyone," he said in a serious tone. "Okay, what is it, Az?", you frowned slightly. Azriel tilted his head to the side, watching you for a heartbeat. You felt a burst of warmth rushing through the bond. One heartbeat. Two. "I love you," Azriel muttered, "I love you so much. You are a part of me now." You smiled at him softly, brushing the skin on his neck. "Well, I should tell you a secret too," you breathed, "I love you too, with the darkest parts of you, all of you, with no exceptions." Azriel leaned in, brushing his lips against yours, igniting the flame within you even more. "Close your eyes," the spymaster breathed against your lips. You hummed, packing his lips one more time before pulling away. Azriel felt his heart drumming against his chest.

Of course, you trusted him fully. But something about him having full control over you like that sent a shiver running down your spine. Then you felt it. Azriel gently picked up your left hand. There was a moment of stillness, and then a cold metal brushed against your skin. Your eyes snapped open right as Azriel placed a beautiful band on your finger. An oval blue sapphire was glistening in the kitchen lights. "Az...", you breathed out, your voice shaky. "I know that I should ask first, then put..." he breathed out with a chuckle, but you leaned forward, smashing your lips against his. It was way more needy and rushed. It was almost hard to see where your own emotions started and Azriel's began.

"I didn't ask," Azriel pulled away breathlessly. "You don't have to; yes, it's a yes," you muttered. The glistening light in your eyes was enough to make him melt. He was yours in so many ways. In ways, even he still didn't know about. "Let's call it an early mating ceremony gift," he muttered, "Plus, it will keep other males from looking at you for too long." "Az," you breathed out, shaking your head and looking down at your hand as your eyes filled up with tears. "Thank you for allowing me into the middle of your darkness," you muttered. As a tear slipped down your cheek, Azriel carefully brushed it away, "Thank you for shining your light upon me, love."

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Taglist: @naturakaashi @hoemadegrace @just-m-2 @thereadinggremlin @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @stressed-reader

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel spymaster x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar imagine #azriel acotar x you #azriel acotar x reader #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar imagine

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abbysimsfun · 1 month ago

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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 90 (Under Pressure)

cw: a bit of coarse language from River, it's just his voice.

Light snow fell over Sable Square on this sunny winter morning, and Conrad tensed his shoulders as he opened the front door. But his best friend and future brother-in-law stood before him, and Conrad relaxed as he stepped out to greet him.

"Hey Riv. What are you doing here? We're gonna be in Henford in two days."

"I'm off for a few weeks with Cass and baby Sammy, but I wanted to talk when we weren't surrounded by family," River said. "Everyone's kinda worried about you, you know."

"Everything's fine. Work's just a little stressful right now."

"Yeah? Those security cameras are pretty intense. You've got that restraining order, and Hazel said you guys brought home a ghost from your date last night...?"

"He's not a ghost anym- Is there anything your family doesn't talk about with each other?"

"Not really, but you knew that already. Are my sister and her kids in some kind of danger?"

Conrad shook his head stiffly. "No."

River studied him. "That's good, because you know if you put a Landgraab in danger, that old bitch who hates my sister will probably have you killed."

He laughed a little but wasn't kidding, and Conrad shifted uncomfortably. "I've got to get to work soon, but come on in for a few minutes."

River followed him inside and greeted Gord with a smile. "You're also about to miss the deadline for our fantasy sportsball league."

"I completely forgot that was this week. I'm sorry. Maybe I should skip it this time around. My head's kind of jammed lately. I haven't even kept up on offseason trades."

"Dude, you're not okay at all. You're the first one in every season..."

"Riv, I just have a lot going on." He tried, but failed, to bottle his frustration with himself, but his reply came out terse and unwelcoming. If everyone could see his stress, he wasn't managing his secrets, but he didn't mean to take it out on River. "Sorry."

"It's alright...I brought the number for that ring designer you asked for, too." He paused, and Conrad didn't fill the silence. "You should go see Cass' mom. Every time she calls, she says how stressed you are. Cass thinks she talks like you're one of her kids, but that's Bella Goth for you - everyone's family to her. Besides, you and my sister have gotten into some real Goth-flavoured shit the last couple years, so it's no wonder she's started thinking of you like family."

Conrad laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe it's just a Brindleton Bay thing for everyone in town to pick up strays. How are you doing? How's Michael adjusting to having a new baby at home?"

"Michael loves Sammy, but he doesn't understand why the baby just stares at him so far."

"Ash was like that. Now Lavender tries babbling with him and he's a lot more interested. Seeing them together kinda makes me wish I had a sibling or two."

"Dude, you've got plenty these days." River stood from the sofa and tightened his scarf. "Listen, I'll get going. I told Cass I'd stop in to see her mother before I left town, myself. It'll be great to see you this weekend, and just...take it easy, okay? No case is more important than my sister and those kids."

"They're my entire world, man. If they're ever in danger, I'll do anything to keep them safe. Thank you for coming by, but I'm handling the stress. I swear to the Watcher."

River leaned in for a hug before they both left the house on Sable Square. He thought about their conversation the whole way to the precinct, about Heather's suspicions, needy Ximena, and angry old George Brindleton. By the time Conrad made it to work, he felt like his heart could explode from his chest.

He made a beeline for the break room and hit redial on the unlisted number he knew would be Ximena. This time, she picked up after only two rings.

"Conrad, do you need me?"

"Where's your brother?" He kept his voice low to ensure no one might overhear if they walked in the room.

"If I knew, I wouldn't have found you to ask for help."

"You found me before you said he went missing. What did you want then? Just me, right? Then what? Things start to go a little sideways with the cartel and you remember I said I'd help you if you ever left, the day I finally left you? But you never left, did you? When's the last time you worked for Los Tigres?"

"Four months ago."

"You and Jimmy, huh. How did it go?"

"It should have gone better!"

"Did they take your brother?"

"It's possible."

"Ximena, I can't do this. I can't help you. I've got kids. I'm not getting mixed up with you and that world again. When it might've been some degenerates trying to mess with the cartel, it was different."

"So you're just going to let them do whatever they want with him? Like they did with me before I took my future into my own hands?"

"You figured out how to beat the cartel at their own game once. If you're really against them and this isn't another lie, do it again for your brother. I'm not going to start investigating the cartel just because they've cut you out after too many bad deliveries." She stammered, and Conrad sighed. "Did you not think I'd read your file after you found me again? You don't even know that's who took Rafa."

"So you're really out? Even though it's Rafa." The sweet voice she put on for him had disappeared.

"Good luck, Ximena. I'm out."

He shook from a mix of anger and guilt when he hung up the phone and blocked her latest number. He was angry at her, but angrier at himself for letting it get this far. To never see her again wouldn't trouble him, but the mystery of Rafa's disappearance wouldn't be so easy to leave behind.

Yet River was right, as usual. He had to let it go. Heather and his family deserved his attention more than Ximena. More than Rafa.

He changed into shorts and a t-shirt and found one of the punching bags unoccupied in the upstairs gym. He funnelled a torrent of guilt and frustration through his gloves, pounding the leather bag at the end of his gloved fists.

For the rest of the day, Conrad stuck close to his desk to organize his case files. When 6p.m. hit, his head still clouded with stress, he clocked out and headed home.

But he remembered what River suggested and changed course, driving his cruiser across the bridge to Cavalier Cove, instead. ->

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Meanwhile, Ximena returned home and made herself a sandwich. Anyone recognize her apartment? 👀

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