#it really is the fandom i end up circling back to in the end when i need something chill and comforting

[ssukidesu]

what she doesn’t want

Fandom: Inuyasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale

Pairing: Inukag

Rating: T

Inukag Week 2024 ( @inukag-week ) - Day 1: Yearning

Summary: Kagome really did wish he would be nicer to her sometimes. Inuyasha's not so sure about that.

Read on AO3

Read under the cut

The stars seemed brighter tonight. For one, they had no competition for light other than the meager campfire that had been reduced to ashes by neglect, and that certainly made their twinkling stronger. But Kagome also figured it was because she hadn’t slept at all, favoring instead to lay on her back in her sleeping bag and just stare at the sky.

It was just like staring into her dark bedroom at home; when the lights first turned off, it seemed black as pitch—but it was only a matter of time before her eyes would adjust, and she’d be able to see the outline of her dresser, her desk, her door, her bedside table.

It was like the Bloody Mary trick. Only this time, instead of the surprise being a ghost in a mirror, it was a sky so vibrant that she couldn’t look away.

Well, there was another reason why she couldn’t sleep.

Inuyasha was leaning his back against a tree trunk at the edge of their camping circle. He, too, had his eyes open—his dark, gray-brown eyes. He wasn’t staring at the sky, though; instead he kept his eyes glued to his hand, which was extended out in front of him as his arm draped over his propped knee. He opened and closed his fist, as if it was a strange sensation. She figured it might have been without the claws—he didn’t have to worry about scratching himself.

She stopped urging him to go to sleep on these nights months ago. It was no use; he always scowled and rolled his eyes, scoffing that she didn’t understand. I might if you’d just tell me, she’d thought, but she let it go.

And now, instead of pestering him until she exhausted herself, which always ended in her angrily falling asleep, she would quietly prepare for a sleepless night herself. If he wouldn’t open up to her, she could at least be there for him if he needed it.

He never did. She wasn’t even sure he knew she was awake; she’d never say anything or even look his way, and he always seemed so focused on his own person, as if waiting for it to dissolve and float away with a wind that was a little too strong.

She had no idea what time it was now—it could have been four in the morning, or four minutes past ten o’clock. She was mulling over what their journey would look like the following day when the sound of his shuffling clothes pulled her attention toward him. She didn’t feign sleep; she turned her head with open eyes toward his distant form, which was standing now. He brushed off his pants and trudged past the treeline.

The river was down that way, Kagome knew, and he perhaps was relieving himself. But seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into a half hour—and she began to worry.

She didn’t need to be reminded of his vulnerability in this state.

But neither does he, she thought, scolding herself for thinking to check on him. He’d take it as an insult.

But then another five minutes passed, and she kicked off the cover of her sleeping bag, which was left unzipped for the warm summer night, and stood.

She was wearing sleep shorts and an old tee, the latter of which was one of her father’s. After he died, her mother held on to his more versatile clothes, knowing that she and her children could treasure them as parts of their own wardrobe.

The ground was loamy and cool. It hadn’t rained in a few days, but the river nearby kept the ground soft and moist. There was moss everywhere that grass didn’t grow. She rubbed her eyes.

She supposed she could sneak after him and just check that he was alright; she had no intention of disturbing him unnecessarily, and in his current state it wasn’t infeasible that she could follow him unperceived. She followed where she remembered he had gone.

It was only about fifty yards to the riverbank. He was there, sitting with his feet in the water. The soft trickling of the stream was loud enough to cover her movements, and she considered leaving right away once she saw he was unharmed—but something held her there.

He seemed so lonesome—more than she’d ever seen him. She couldn’t even see his face, as his back was to her, but the melancholy was all but suffusing from his body, and she figured it wouldn’t be a bad thing to at least offer him company.

“Inuyasha?” she began, voice hoarse from lack of use. She cleared her throat.

He didn’t turn his head all the way, but he showed her his profile. A simple acknowledgement. He turned back toward the water.

“Are you alright?” she tried, approaching him now that she knew she wouldn’t surprise him.

“Am I alright? ‘Course," he said harshly. Sarcastically.

“Stop that. I was just checking on you,” she defended, sitting herself beside him a healthy distance away. She didn’t want to crowd him.

“Just waiting,” was his explanation.

She hummed. “Do you know how much longer till dawn?”

“Not long. Maybe an hour.”

“That’s good,” she said, flicking her gaze toward him without fully turning her head.

“You should go back,” he said gruffly, attention still on the water.

“It’s fine. I wasn’t going to fall back asleep anyway.”

“I’d rather be alone,” he said, and she felt his glare hit the side of her face. She turned and met his human eyes. She raked her sights over his hair, his ears. She so seldom got to see him like this so close.

“No, you wouldn’t,” she sighed.

“The hell do you know?” he snapped, and she rolled her eyes.

“Fine, then. Maybe I don’t want to be alone.”

He didn’t immediately brush it off, but she could tell it annoyed him. “Whatever,” he concluded.

And then they sat there in silence, staring between the twinkling sky and the reflecting water, waiting for dawn to come.

It inched closer, perhaps only a moment away now.

He grew antsy. She knew he wanted to run away, to transform back in solitude. But he didn’t—and she was flattered in spite of herself.

But she wouldn’t force him. “Is it alright? If I see.”

“I don’t care,” he lied.

“Right. I’ll stay, then,” she said, smiling softly at him through the dark.

He gulped uncomfortably. The horizon brightened, brightened, brightened, and the first ray of sun finally crested.

Her eyes widened. His closed. She watched as a glow overtook him, as dark hair faded into moon white, as ears sharpened and migrated, as fingers honed at the ends. His mouth was closed, but she saw his jaw lengthen and sharpen ever so subtly—and she was surprised to learn for the very first time that in order to make room for his large canines, the bone structure itself had to make room. Maybe that was why he always looked so much younger as a human.

His eyes remained shut, and she yearned to see the gold hidden beneath his clenched lids. But she would be patient; he had been so generous with her for not running her off, and she didn’t want to be greedy.

When he did open them, his brows remained furrowed. Their gazes locked—his agitated and hers enraptured. She saw his nostrils flare strongly, and his breaths were shallow, shallow, and then very, very deep.

“Is it strange?” she asked against her will.

He seemed to struggle with words. “It kinda feels like being drunk out of nowhere.”

“The scents?” she asked. He nodded, still light-headed, and she continued, “It must be weird, being suddenly affected by every little thing.”

“It’s not everything,” he corrected. “Just… uh—” he paused, and his eyes flicked to hers for a brief moment before roaming down her body. “…certain scents.”

“Oh.”

Blood rushed to her face so fast that she was surprised she didn’t black out. Her eyes fell to her lap. Is it that bad ? she fretted to herself. Maybe I can slip away to bathe later…

“Hey!” he growled before tweaking her ear. She looked up again and saw that he, too, was blushing. “What the hell is in your head now? It’s not a bad thing.”

“…Really?” she asked, secretly glad he was returning so soon to his expressive self.

His shoulders raised to his neck, and he folded his arms over his puffing chest. He closed his eyes to her, brow twitching, and muttered, “Don’t be stupid. Of course it isn’t. I told you before, didn’t I?”

Recovered now that she knew her scent wasn’t atrocious to him, she sucked in a calming breath. “Told me what?”

Eyes opening again, his stern face faltered into one far less confident. He looked like he wanted to whine; his brows upturned toward the middle, and his lips tightened into a small pout—if he was even capable of pouting with that grim mouth of his. He directed his gaze somewhere to his left, as if a tree in the distance had shouted an insult at him she couldn’t hear. The sun was halfway above the horizon now, and the forest was illuminated in a bright, hazy fog. The grass around them collected dew.

“That it’s nice,” he said simply.

Kagome didn’t respond, preferring instead to stare at his profile in something between shock, embarrassment, and something else she couldn’t begin to name.

At her silence, he grew even more incensed. He flicked his gaze back to her from the side, found her expression unhelpful in his discovery of her feelings, and turned back fully to scowl outright at her. “Don’t tell me you forgot, ” he growled. “All this time I’ve been pissed as hell at my stupid human mouth for saying it back then, and you’re telling me you don’t even remember?"

Jostling herself in her seat, she turned squarely to him and leaned forward to meet his gaze closely. “You mean that time I first saw you as a human? When you asked to lay in my lap?”

At her second sentence, he visibly bristled. But of course, as he was apt to do, he smothered it with more feigned anger. Gritting his teeth, he hissed, “So you do remember, then? Then what’s with the surprise? I told you back then that I liked your scent.”

Kagome felt a thrill run through her at his words, no mater how gracelessly he expressed them. Is that why he never wants to transform back near me?

She wouldn’t ask him that, for both their sakes. Instead, she mumbled softly, “I wasn’t sure you meant what you said then. You were falling asleep, after all…”

“Keh,” he grunted. “I wish I didn’t mean it.”

This puzzled her. But it wasn’t a novel sensation; she had felt puzzled over similar circumstances hundreds of times before. Tilting her head, Kagome leaned closer, her shifting center of gravity requiring her hands to brace themselves on the ground in front of her. “Why is it so embarrassing for you to say things like that?” she mused. The riskiness of the question was not lost on her, but she had been filled with a boldness she couldn’t overcome.

Inuyasha seemed slightly overwhelmed by her increasing proximity, and he tilted himself backward until his own hands had to brace his weight behind him. He looked down at her with an expression of outright horror. “…Huh?”

“You’re always so slow to give me compliments,” she elaborated, self-consciousness completely gone from her now. “When you do give them, it’s like you’re fighting back the whole time. It’s okay, you know—to be kind to me. You shouldn’t feel shame for it. I won’t ever throw it back in your face, or roll my eyes, or laugh at you.” She paused, considering her next words, which came with a faltering voice: “Don’t you trust me?”

She could tell every muscle in his body was urging him to jump and run away from her, and she fully expected him to—but he didn’t move. After a wretchedly mute moment, Inuyasha swallowed thickly. “It’s… it’s not like that,” he managed finally.

Kagome was merciless in the swiftness and nonchalance of her response. “What is it, then?”

In Inuyasha’s head, he was screaming. He hated when she got like this, so sincerely searching his eyes with her own.

A shaken exhale. A vicious look with quirked brow. A damning bead of anxious sweat. “I…”

He was going to say that he didn’t know, that she should stop it, that they should return to awaken the others. But that look on her face held him there—so oppressively vulnerable to whatever he would say next—and he knew that if he were to jilt her now, she might never show him such a face again.

And he hated that possibility the most.

So he decided to keep things simple—and say what he actually thought. “I can handle you yelling at me way better than you… well, smiling at me. I think if I was nice to you too often, I’d start being… really nice.” He pushed himself off his hands and returned to a normal posture, despite how it brought their faces perhaps only a foot apart. "Too nice,” he continued with a hard stare. “And I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

“…Oh,” she said, for the second time that morning.

“Yeah,” he responded flatly, angry at her for making him spell it out.

At that point, he figured he could stand and flee without making her feel too abandoned. So he did, muttering something about fishing for breakfast. Kagome watched slack-jawed as he walked away along the river without so much as a backward glance.

She wanted to be mad at him for some reason, but her heart wouldn’t slow down enough for her to follow a single thought to its conclusion. The only one that came close to completion went something along the lines of: Why would that be a problem? She managed to say something similar aloud before rising to return to camp and change into her day clothes, but he was already out of sight.

But not out of earshot. Is she stupid? he thought as he all but stomped away. Always biting off more than she can chew…

An hour later, after he succeeded in catching their whole group some fish and returning to the campsite, Inuyasha saw immediately that she was upset with him.

So he decided to make a point: after dropping his basket of fish roughly against the ground, he planted himself snuggly next to her—shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. Before she could react, he immediately grabbed two skewers and stabbed a dead trout on each. He handed one to her with a raised brow. She accepted it slowly.

Kagome was garishly red in the cheeks. What had him so smug all of the sudden?! Or was he angry? She couldn’t tell for the life of her. His chin jutted out as he peered down at her from the side, his weight braced casually on his arm. After a minute of her silently staring back at him, he cleared his throat and gripped the handle of her skewer, and her hand along with it, to guide the fish over the flame.

She was almost too confused to be furious—almost. What’s with him now? she thought hotly. First he says he doesn’t want to be too nice to me, and now he’s getting cozy and helping me cook food?

Sango, Miroku, and Shippo—all sitting in the same circle—also seemed to notice Inuyasha’s off behavior (and Kagome’s subsequent unease). They said nothing, but she felt their eyes upon her as he offered her another smoked trout. She refused.

Once they had all finished, Kagome craved air. She stood and mentioned getting some more water to boil. Unhooking the pot from over the flames, she gripped the handles and carried it over to the river down below, careful of its hot sides.

She grazed the bottom of the pot atop the moving water to chill it before placing it on the grass. Instead of filling it right away, she returned to a full stand and stretched her arms over her head.

“Need some help?” came the voice of the current bane of her existence.

She whipped her head backwards and returned her arms to her side. “It’s fine. I got it,” she said flatly.

He had his arms folded over his chest, and his eyes were narrowed in amusement toward her. “You sure?”

She huffed. “Yes, Inuyasha. I’m sure.”

Instead of leaving, he took a step closer. Then another. Then another. She would have moved backwards in tandem, but the river was close behind, and the ground was turning to mush beneath her shoes. “What’s your deal?” she said, officially panicking. “Are you trying to prove something?”

He was right at her now, leering down at her in an expression that seemed wedged between agitation and humor. A scary combination on him. “You have something on your face,” he said instead of answering her question.

He brought his left hand to toy with his right sleeve. He curled it taut over his right thumb and brought it to his mouth, soaking it. “Looks like grease,” he observed. “Lemme get that.”

He brought the wetted fabric to the side of her mouth, his other fingers brushing below her chin. He lightly scrubbed it—the sensation of tiny crumbs and slick fat spreading beneath—and angled his head while doing so to observe her expression.

It was mortified. He had barely finished cleaning her face when she shoved his hand away from her and staggered backward fully onto the muddy riverbank. Before she could fall backwards into the stream, he gripped her flailing arms and pulled her away from the edge, her own grip reaching onto him out of primal fear of falling. A shriek left her lips, and her eyes were shut tight until he merged her balance with his own, unshaken.

When she opened her eyes again, he was outright smirking at her now, just a few inches from her face. Her shoes were covered in mud now, but she could not spare the attention to care.

“Why are you so… all of the sudden...?” she tried, voice faltering.

His was firm and reproaching. “So what? Nice?”

“…”

He squeezed her arms, then let her go. “See? You don’t want this.”

With his relinquished hold, she pulled her shoes from the sticky mud and settled them a foot away in the grass. “W-What?”

“Me. Being nice all the time. You don’t like it, either.”

“But—“

“Oh, shut up,” he scolded cynically. “Don’t try to deny it. It’s obvious.” He was looking viciously bitter, and she was frozen under the expression. “Don’t go wishing for something you don’t actually want,” he concluded harshly.

After turning his back on her, he walked back through the trees to the others.

She would have stopped him—would have reached out and grabbed his sleeve, would have told him to stay for a minute longer so she could catch her breath—but he was too quick. Her heart still pounded at the memory of his thumb beside her mouth, his clawed fingers on the skin near her neck, and she thought to herself that she was the biggest idiot in the entire world.

Because she did want it—his kindness. His gentle touch. His closeness. But she was in such a habit of shoving him away that she defaulted to it when she least meant to. Maybe the same went for him—that his habit of being mean was just easier than whatever would pop up in its absence. Status quo was familiar.

But she didn’t want status quo—she wanted what was hiding beneath it, the thing that made him feel momentarily comfortable with his face only inches from hers.

She more than wanted it.

She yearned for it.

[corruptkpr]

this morning made me too emotional today for no reason.

when Soul brought me back to drawing, i started my new path from here, because i never liked Twitter. And yet, came to Twitter because i wanted to get recognition from certain people. Although honestly, when i posted those first posts, i was on the verge of giving up everything again because i was waiting for another ignore, but instead i saw that someone liked it, even the Phantom himself liked my pathetic attempts to draw, and it inspired me to keep fighting, and trying.

But now… no matter how hard i try, i continue to watch how all this goes to other people who may try as hadr as me, but for some reason they are noticed, and i just remain on the sidelines, like an empty place, no matter how hard i try. damn, from that moment i was able to regain my skill and draw better, just to think that i'm absolutely terrible at drawing, literally untallented self-taught artist, all i can do now is nothing more than a lot and lot of practice just doing it for fun. It took me many YEARS to learn to draw well enough for people to at least like it, i wanted to draw to make happy others, but in the end, hardly anyone needs it. What does it feel like? i can't describe it as something other than "it hurts."

I didn’t want so much, but constantly notice that i get less than others, and i feel some kind of injustice. It's like i'm always not good enough no matter what i do, i just always feel like i'm doing something wrong, even when i'm just drawing for fun. I no longer understand why i continue to post art there. For people who likes it it? i don't think even they appreciate it, excluding my friends. I'm just left with the feeling that i'm wrong and despised for something, although i have no idea what for. There are a lot of people out there who do it better and perhaps it’s easier for them, and they easily get recognition too, so it doesn't matter if i stop sharing my art, i'm sure ppl won't notice it. Maybe one day i'll finally stop posting art there hoping for a different outcome, or maybe i'll finally get rid of some ridiculous expectations and will finally be free from doubts, but so far i don’t know how to get rid of it. For now my efforts with such a return are simply poisoning me. Sometimes it comes to thoughts of s-icide because i feel like a fucking outsider in this world. i can continue to draw for a small circle of people who really need it, but for the whole community, just to once again choke on self-doubt? I really should stop flattering myself that my desire to contribute to the fandom is worth something, and somehow bring myself back to just drawing for fun, and not for fucking people.

[benevolenterrancy]

My art summary for this year! One standout piece for each month... so it was a little maddening when I had one month with a bunch of good pieces and then a few months (october...) where I did almost nothing

And a tally of the fandoms I drew for:

Hogan's Heroes, somehow, is still in the lead of my most prolific fandom! Given how deep I've been into the MXTX novels lately I thought it would have been overthrown, but nope, Hogan's Heroes still wins first in my heart this year apparently!

The other fandoms I drew at least a couple pieces of art for this year were Torchwood, MDZS, TGCF, MASH, Doctor Who, Rat Patrol, Sherlock Holmes, Cybersix, Les Mis, bandes desinées as a collective unit, A Marvellous Light, and Xena. The numbers for people who are interested

and fandoms I only drew a single piece or doodled for were: Banjo-Kazooie, Between the Lions, Detective Conan, Dr Domino, Dimwood Forest, Dragon Age, Firekeeper, Good Omens, Helluva Boss, Hitchhiker's Guide, Leisure Suit Larry, Lupin III, Miss Fisher, Ninjago, One Piece, Once Upon A Time, Penumbra, Pippi Longstocking, Planet of the Apes, Pretty Woman, RWBY, Spy x Family, Transformers, and When the Angels Left The Old Country!

...I do nothing if not dabble, apparently. That dashboard osmosis game certainly gave me a chance to draw for a lot of interesting things

[sailorsally]

People can hate Misha as much as they want but the reality is that none of the other actors on SPN, including Jensen and Jared, have done an ounce of what Misha did to make fans feel welcome and supported over the years. Misha, to this day, remains the only cast member from the main cast who will not shy away from discussing any topic fans want to talk about.

Yes, Jensen & Jared will of course also answer questions but only to the extent of it being their job. It'd be easier for Misha to behave like them, just to show up to a panel, give politically correct answers, bag the money and go home. But that's not the kind of person Misha is. He really cares about the fandom and thinks of it as his group and friends so it is especially sad when so many people cannot seem to be able to return the friendship back and will indeed do their damnest to always take everything he does or says in a bad faith, misinterpret things he says on purpose and insult him on daily. That is not how relationships work, parasocial or not. The anonymity of the internet gives a lot of people the cover to show their true colors and at the end of the day fandom drama is fandom drama but I'd be lying if I said I'd want any of these people in my circle irl either.

[feralforfrank]

NOTHING'S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

summary reader gets injured while looking out for the team and simon riley worries.

cw descriptive scenes of reader getting injured, cod canon violence, stab wounds & blood loss, worried!simon riley. angst!!!!! hurt with tiny bit of comfort (from simon to reader) NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. tell me if i missed anything!

a/n is this deserving of a part two? does it feel rushed? is THIS really how i want to enter the cod mw2 fandom!?!! so many questions.

masterlist | taglist

"Ghost," you spoke his name in a hushed tone, mainly to hide from the enemy but also to hide the shake in your voice.

"I'm here, Owl. I'm coming to get ya." You could hear Ghost running, and you tried to focus on the sounds he made instead of the stinging pain on your thigh and side.

It was your fault. All of it. You were supposed to be on the roof, not on the goddamn ground. You're a sniper, for fuck's sake. But being above ground, you spotted two men making their way to where the team's getaway car was. You weren't allowing them to steal your vehicle, but if you shot at them, it would alert the others, and your position would've been compromised.

You knew how to fight. Although you never liked engaging the enemy face to face and your eyes were better used above ground, thus why you were a sniper and why they called you Owl, Ghost and Soap trained you to take down men as big as them. 

The first man went down quickly, he was skinny, and you surprised him. He was gurgling on his one blood in seconds. The second guy pinned you to the wall. You took your second knife from your right thigh strap and pierced his stomach twice. He was slipping from your grasp when you felt the knife you'd used on him puncture your thigh. 

You screamed. A shriek left your mouth before you could stop it. Your thigh throbbed as you landed a final blow on the side of the man's neck. You stumbled off the wall, blinking the tears and black dots away. You heard someone call your name through comms, but you didn't have time to answer.

The third man came behind you. He must've heard you scream. He circled his buff biceps around your throat and squeezed. Fight and flight kicked in. Andrenaline was pumping in your bloodstream, and, without thinking twice, you bit his bicep. Hard.

He cursed and moved away from you for a split second, and you got a chance to suck in a breath. You stumbled forward, but he caught you, spinning you around and pulling you so impossibly close. 

At first, you didn't feel it. A shot rang out, and his body slumped forward, distracting you. The man was dead in your arms, and his blood had splattered on your face and continued spilling on your shoulder. Your head shot up to your station—that's where the gunshot had come from. Gaz asked you if you were okay. You tried to nod, and that's when you felt it. 

Your ears started ringing. You stepped back, the man falling completely from your grasp and onto the ground. You choked on your breath. Your hand instinctively fell to your side and then rose in front of your face. You were bleeding from two places now.

Gaz called for you again, but you didn't answer. You felt dizzy, and as much as you tried blinking those black spots away, they just wouldn't go. You leaned against the wall. Ghost ordered your whereabouts, and Gaz answered him hurriedly, adding that he could see you losing consciousness. So, that's who shot from your position. Ghost confirmed that he was coming your way.

And that's how you ended up in this position.

"Please, hurry." Your cry of pain made the lieutenant's pace pick up.

Ghost always had some sort of a soft spot for you. Your kind-hearted, friendly nature and bubbly personality didn't help his growing infatuation. You were too sweet for your own good, and he swore your sarcastic comments directed mostly at Soap always managed to melt his heart.

The guys weren't oblivious—they could see how Ghost always stared at you. His hard eyes seemed to soften when looking at you. Actually, his whole posture changed when you were around. Ghost was always near you, a soft hand placed on your lower back and guiding you when you were in the dark during missions, and glances were thrown at you when you were too quiet to make sure you were doing okay.

Soap and Gaz had joked about his fascination with you, asking him why he never made a move. He'd shut them down and called them inappropriate before lowering his head to hide how flustered he felt. He thought burying those teenage sentiments at the very back of his mind would be the best. He's never been good at expressing his feelings, and for fuck's sake, he was your superior.

But as he heard your breath come out in gasps and Gaz telling him to hurry up through comms, he felt panic inside him. His steps became more urgent, and his grip on the gun tightened. He was almost there.

"Don't move. I'm coming to get you." Ghost's voice was filled with utter panic and anxiety, and he took a breath to get rid of the shake in his tone. "I'm almost there, darlin'."

Fuck. 

He hadn't meant for that to slip out. He heard your breath hitch. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

He turned the corner, and there you were, slumped on the wall, holding your side with your palm and breathing heavily. He placed his gun in its holster and ran toward you. You collapsed with a groan, your forehead touching his vest.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I'm so sorry. They were—They were trying to escape with our c-car, and I couldn't let—I couldn't let them—" You gasped for breath as Ghost looked around at the dead bodies.

It was dark, but he could make out three silhouettes, definitely larger frames than yours, and they all lay dead in a puddle of their own blood. 

"It's okay, it's alright, love. I'm here now. I'm not goin' anywhere." A soft whimper escaped your lips, and he felt your body give in to the fatigue caused by the blood loss. 

Ghost picked you up, requesting the rest of the team to meet him at his location. The car was unlocked and untouched, and his heart swole with pride. You'd taken out three soldiers to protect the team and secure their getaway transportation.

You mumbled his name as he placed you in the backseat. He quickly got in, and pulled you in his arms again, one palm pressing on your wounded side and the other on your bleeding thigh. 

Soap slipped in the driver's seat, Gaz following right behind him. "How's she doing, Lt.?" The former asked, glancing behind him once.

"She'll be fine if you move this goddamn car!" Ghost's tone was sharp, but Soap didn't take it personally.

"Where to, Ghost?" John asked.

"The safe house. Make sure no one follows us. As soon as we're in the clear, Gaz, you call Price. Tell 'im to send evac." Gaz nods curtly, followed by a yes, sir.

"Simon." You shift, snuggling closer to his body.

The frown on your face deepens. Simon looks down at you. His heart hasn't stopped its rapid beating, and worry mixed with panic is still swirling in his blood. He wants to tell John to hurry the fuck up, but he knows the soldier is going as fast as possible.

You whine in distress, your eyes blinking ever so slowly. Your ears ring, your gaze is unfocused, and your eyes are glassy with tears ready to fall. 

"Shh, it's alright, love," Simon whispers. "You're goin' be okay."

"Am I dying?" You speak in hushed panic.

Simon shakes his head quickly from side to side as if your words burned him. "No, you're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed, okay? I can fix it." He's trying to convince himself more than he's trying to convince you.

"Are they after us?" He shakes his head again. "So, we're safe? I'm safe?"

"Nothing's gonna hurt you. As long as I'm here, no one's hurting you again, ya hear me?" The finality in his voice is the reassurance you need to soothe you.

You feel your eyes drooping again, and the ringing in your ears finally fades out. "Thank you, Simon."

previous | next

[spacedace]

So I have an idea for a dp x dc fic and I'm going to throw it here since i need to get it out of my head and i'm not sure i'll ever actually write it (and as always if anyone finds my rambles interesting any/all of it us up for grabs to run with):

Elle ends up crashing into the DC universe while exploring, but despite all the dimension/multivariate nonsense that always goes down (or maybe because of it) she can't actually get back, and the levels of ectoplasm are a lot lower than most dimensions which weakens her quite a bit.

There's enough for her to survive, and use her powers a little bit, but using them too much makes her get really weak/maybe even causes serious harm depending on how much she uses.

She finds this out when she tries to open a portal home and both fails to open the portal & passes out as a result of trying. Cut to Elle waking up in Cadmus and realizing "ah, fucked up unethical science, I am familiar with this fuckery" and escapes.

In the process of escaping she comes across Kon, who isn't "finished" yet. He's alive and aged up to a teenager, but isn't quite done with his programming/whatever (this idea came to me based entirely off what I've gleaned through fandom so I don't know the canon of Kon's whole time with Cadmus). Elle immediately realizes "Oh clone baby, that's not good" and breaks him out and takes him with her.

Kon in this doesn't know he's a clone of Superman, he doesn't know a lot of things considering how early into the clone info-dumling process he was in when Elle broke him out. He barely knows language and how to read. What he does know for sure though is that Cadmus is Bad and Getting the Fuck Out is Good so he's down to go with Elle

Queue them becoming friends and being on the run together, learning about this world/dimension together and coming to see each other as family. Eventually they end up in Gotham because it's one of the places that naturally has a higher ectopalsm level and because if you're in the right area no one cares if you have no legal ID (in some circles it's a plus).

Kon gets a lot of odd jobs before eventually ending up working at a strip club or burlesque bar or something (my idea is that it's years after escaping so he's in his early 20s at this point and not just a fresh baby clone anymore and he gets into it because he likes it and it's good money) while Elle uses her ghostly knowledge/what powers she can to work as like a psychic or something like that.

Meanwhile Justice League (with alive again Superman) have found out about the escaped Superman clone and, along with Cadmus, are desperately trying to track him down. The info they have is a bit murky, so they think it's actually *two* clones, one that had Martian dnd also thrown in to the mix based off a short clip they managed to find of Elle phasing through walls.

My idea is that it'd all finally come to a head when Constantine pulls Tim (and maybe also Damian) in on a JL Dark case that involves the Lazerus Pit and for reasons ends up having to hire Elle to help. I'm thinking it's a thing that Elle is a pretty respected name in certain magic circles due to her expert knowledge on the Infinite Realms, though she refuses to work for most people who seek her out - even though the money would be good - because usually it's only evil assholes that want to hire her.

She makes a deal with Jon to help (in exchange for something that would let her get a message to Danny letting him know what happened or something like that) and Kon joins in because there's no way he's trusting a dude Elle calls the "drunk soul slut" with his baby sister unattended, he doesn't *care* if she could handle herself it's not happening.

Anyway, Tim/Kon (and maybe some Damian/Elle) shenanigans during a Lazerus Pit/demon hunting road trip where eventually everyone figures out who Kon & Elle are, Elle manages to get a stable portal setup so she can go home and come back whenever she wants (Kon getting adopted by Danny? Kon getting adopted by Danny) and Kon joining Young Justice and having a good relationship with Clark (who had a lot more time to deal with things before meeting Kon and learned about him as a person before learning he was Clark's clone).

Anyway there would be a scene at the end where Kon would be in his superhero suit for the first time and just:

Clark: Did you choose a hero name yet?

Kon: Yeah, I figured I'd go with Supernova.

Clark, feeling touched: Yeah? Any particular reason?

Kon: It's cool, it has 'Super' in the name, and really it just seemed the easiest option, I'm used to responding to Nova, so *shrugs*

Clark: Yeah? Why's that? Nickname?

Kon: I guess kinda? It's my stage name at the strip club I work at

Clark: what

Tim, brain shut down by this revelation: ...do you do private shows?

Clark: w h a t

[weast-of-eden]

I've been thinking about how I could contribute to the ACD/Granada Sherlock Holmes fandom for a while, seeing as I'm neither an artist, a writer, or anything actually useful lol. But then I realized something I myself always treasure are curated fic recs, which I could actually do! I've read probably like 25% of all the h/w ACD and Granada fics on ao3, so I compiled a short list for anyone who is just starting out with the fandom. Without further ado, may I present

Eden’s Top Picks for Beginning ACD/Granada Fics:

(edit: i made a second list here!!)

The Adventure of the Doctor's Heart by mistyzeo 12k | Rated E Summary: Holmes has observed much of Watson's habits and tastes over time, which is why it surprises him when his friend objects strangely to a folk song sung at the conclusion of a case. Disturbed by the Doctor's unexpected display of emotion, Holmes becomes determined to lift his spirits by any means necessary, with mixed results. Notes: obviously if you're going to read canonverse h/w, you are going to read mistyzeo. this one is just so good and angsty and features music (!!). it's got some steaminess but it also has wooing. basically it has everything you ever need. this is my odyssey, my iliad, my hamlet, etc.

Cameo by what_alchemy 8k | Rated M | For Archive Users Only Summary: Holmes and Watson become embroiled in a case Scotland Yard refuses to acknowledge. A soulmate AU. Notes: i honestly skipped over this fic for a while, since i'm not the biggest fan of soulmate aus. do not make the same mistake i did, because this shit HITS. this fic has hit after hit: soulmate-mark based case for our main duo, angst, hiatus feels, MORE ANGST, and ofc a happy ending. ugh. read this fic if you enjoy being happy.

A Tide That Does Not Turn by tweedisgood 3k | Rated T Summary: Holmes is a very bad patient with a devoted doctor who adores him. Watson wishes it was safe to speak up, but his friend is a tide that does not turn. Notes: do NOT read this if you don't like angst... ok now i'm sensing a pattern. anyways this is the first hurt/no comfort fic i read for this tag and i literally have cried more than enough tears over it. poor, poor watson :( iconic author though, read everything they write!

The Adventure of the Glad Outlaw by radondoran 7k | Rated T Summary: While Sherlock Holmes solves the mystery of a student's disappearance, Dr. Watson is more puzzled by the changing dynamic between his flatmate and himself. Notes: cute pastiche! a nice little mystery and a nice little get-together. ahhhhhh.... this fic is like cotton candy to me, so sweet and fluffy. defo recommend

Hands by MinorObsessions (draculard) 1.4k | Rated T Summary: Naturally, there are some things Watson thinks about Holmes that don't make it into the books. Notes: i'm also in the star trek fandom, so if you know anything about that then you know that hands are kind of A Thing in both circles and ergo i now Have A Thing about hands. so this is a nice little ode to holmes' hands, featuring some doctoring by watson AND a nice reverse appraisal at the end. it's so sweet :)

Conductor of Light by ColebaltBlue  1.4k | Rated T Summary: A Victorian stiff upper lip won't prevent you from falling in love, but it might prevent you from realizing it. Notes: they finally get their shit together! honestly i would recommend this fic to anyone just starting out with h/w fics in any medium. the characterization and dialogue is A1, and their argument is really realistic to me, idk. also features the iconic HOUN quote for its title so props to that!

A (Mis)fortunate Man by sans_patronymic 1.5k | Rated T Summary: December, 1880. Watson writes a note which may be his last. December, 1899. Watson writes back. Notes: READ THE TAGS BEFORE READING. this was a gut-wrenching read but god i cried at the end for watson. don't worry, this one has a happy ending. ugh now i wish there was a second chapter where watson lets holmes read the letters. to sum up: oof, my heart

The Second Smartest Man in London by FairSinner 73k | Rated E Summary: Dr John Watson returns from Afghanistan to Victorian London, wounded, traumatised and alone. When he meets Sherlock Holmes, his life begins to seem worth living again. But Holmes is a man who despises sentiment and Watson cannot seem to expunge it from his heart. Notes: congrats, you've made it to the end!! so now i must confess that it's been a loooong time since i've read this fic, but the private note i left on my bookmark was just "holy shit", so i'm sure it's a banger. i'm also sure it has angst because i love angst and i love bookmarking angst so i can read it again and again and suffer infinitely. enjoy :)

anyways, now that i've put these all here i realized how much i enjoy angst and hurt/no comfort fics. if any of you guys have a favorite fic you want to link or want to plug your own writing, feel free to!

[nekoashiii]

I saw some funny headcanons from another fandom where in their world they don't really know cracking your fingers or neck and they consider it breaking a bone

imagine the chaos in the sagau when that's the same in teyvat and the creator cracks their knuckles or back everyone would panic so hard 💀

Anon you just read my mind 👁️👄👁️

It was another day of constantly sitting on a throne made out of gold

And your back hurted as if you haven't moved for 10 years

With everyone circling under you and constantly asking for life advice, complimenting you, and just giving you random stuff, you stood up brought your hands behind your head and bent backwards. Making a juicy

C̸̋͒́͌̋̀ŗ̸͍̟̪̭̺̃̑̚å̴̺͉͉̪͔͖͔̥̜͔c̶̽͐̌k̸̛͊̀̀̈̋

A moment the halls of your shrine were silent, and the next moment everyone was screaming at the top of their lungs

DID YOU JUST BREAK YOUR BONE?? ARE YOU ALIVE? ARE YOU GOOD?

Deciding to mess with them, you simply sat on your throne and smiled,

Then adding a simple

"Due to me breaking my back, I will leave teyvat since I will pass away soon, I don't want you people to see me vanish😔😔"

Totally not something I would do

People were on their knees crying, like actually shedding tears while some others were calling for doctors

And you were just trying so hard not to laugh

"PLEASE, PLEASE DONT LEAVE AGAIN"

"ah yes yes very sad, my time has come to an end"

"NO- PLEASE NO"

"ahhhh im going to perish soon ahhhhhh" sighing dramatically while saying that

Ok even baizhu who arrived there rushing, heard what you said, and he found out you were just playing with thousands of people, so yk...he decided to play along,

"mm, yes, how sad"

That's what happens when you do that in liyue.

Now do that in mondstadt and watch Barbra faint

"hey guys wanna see a cool thing I can do?" You said while walking towards the playable characters of mondstadt

And then bending your neck slightly to your right and making yet another ~juicy~ C̸̋͒́͌̋̀ŗ̸͍̟̪̭̺̃̑̚å̴̺͉͉̪͔͖͔̥̜͔c̶̽͐̌k̸̛͊̀̀̈̋

Barbra couldn't even consume what she just saw, resulting in her fainting

"oh god, oh god im sorry Barbra are you alive"

Please don't do that ever again, she might hit her head on the ground harder next time

But in Snezhnaya!! Nothing changes expect the fact that no one faints

Just..with some holy powers an argument starts

Guess who started it

"Oh god, time to call the best doctor of teyvat with my enormous WALLET"

─ pantalone

[sleepingdeath-hellaverse]

dominant male s/o smut headcanons ; 18+

requested by : anonymous [14/03/24]

original request : ‘There is clearly a lack of x male reader in the Hazbin Hotel fandom, so maybe I could request Lucifer and Adam with a soft dom male reader. (Im not sure If I can request more that one character tho)’

pairing : submissive leaning switch!lucifer morningstar x dominant!male!reader insert

content : dom/sub dynamic between characters, lucifer having a praise kink, brief mentions of bondage (lucifer being tied up), implied body worship if you squint at one bullet point (lucifer receiving), cock-warming (reader receiving), overstimulation (lucifer receiving), some mentions of brat!lucifer at the end of the post

warnings : sexually explicit content

note : you can absolutely request multiple characters and the second part of this request (featuring the other listed character) will be out at some point next week ^^

masterlists : sfw nsfw

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

although lucifer himself is a switch and is more than comfortable with taking on a dominant role in the bedroom, there is definitely a very strong part of him that enjoys being able to hand over control to someone else for a change — so, needless to say, having a boyfriend that was willing and eager to take on a dominant role in his stead would be something lucifer would be extremely open to

a good 90% of the time lucifer does his best to be ‘good’ for you (following your instructions to the letter, answering your questions immediately, only allowing himself to climax when you give him permission to, and so on), because he absolutely lives for your praise and undivided attention in the bedroom after being on his own for so long

call him ‘good boy’, ‘pretty’, ‘well trained’ and the like and you’ll get to see his pale cheeks turn a gorgeous shade of red as he shuffles in place and lets himself bask in those attentions — bonus points if you gently coaxe him into meeting your gaze when you’re saying this because he gets far too flustered to speak

tie his hands behind his back or above his head (or, if you’re feeling a bit mean, simply instruct him to hold them there without binding them in anyway and test how strong his resolve really is) and spend hours at a time smothering him in affection and praise: kiss down from the column of his throat to his chest and to the apex of his thighs, gently massage his legs and sides, pepper kisses and gentle bites along his throat and jawline, whisper compliments against his skin, gently brush your fingers through the feathers of his wings when they spring up out of his back — listen to every whimper and sigh and sob that comes out of his pretty lips as he tries his best to stay still and wait for you to finally, finally, put your hands or mouth on his straining dick as a reward for being so very good and patient for you

have him cockwarm you whilst he’s sorting through documents for lulu land or the hotel, lazily stroking circles into his hips with the pads of your thumbs as you encourage him to keep on going and promise to reward him for being such a good boy for you all day

and when he’s earned it, fuck him until there are tears streaming down his cheeks and all he can do is babble something vaguely like your name as he desperately tries to pull you closer with shaking hands — he’s strong enough to take anything you give him, really he is, so feel free to keep on pushing him through orgasm after orgasm until the only thing he can remember is how good your cock feels inside of him and the shape of your name on his lips

(or until you’re too exhausted to go on… whichever comes first)

he’s also just as happy to top you if you’re more comfortable being on the receiving end — he’s nothing if not a gentleman after all — so long as you’re still praising him and telling him what to do, he’s content with making love to you in any way that you prefer

then, of course, there’s the remaining 10% where all of his patience gets thrown out of the window and you get to see just how much of a brat the prince of pride can be

he gets demanding, impatient, and desperate until he’s swiftly put in his place and reminded that you’re the one in charge and he won’t get anything from you until he starts behaving again

(in all honesty he’s a pretty easy brat to tame if you leverage his praise kink and his desperation by having him cockwarm you whilst you edge him with your hand, asking him if he’s going to start behaving and reminding him that brats don’t get rewards — he’ll break before long and get all teary eyed as he apologises and begs you to let him cum)

[cheesemoth]

A WEDDING MADE OF STRAWS

Part 1 | Part 2

Fandom

Criminal Minds

Summary

Your relationship with Spencer, your husband, seems to be deteriorating after seven years together and four years of marriage. You've tried to talk to him about it, to find out if you've done something wrong, but all you get is an avoidance or the poor excuse "I don't have time". Finally, you've had enough.

Genre

Hurt/Open Ending

Pairing

Spencer Reid/Female Reader

Spencer isn't feeling well.

His head hurts, constantly, and lately, his job seems to weigh even more heavily on his shoulders. He knows it's partly due to his worry about schizophrenia, especially since the migraines he thought he had left behind are back.

He tries to distract himself, not to let his thoughts invade his daily life with you and his professional life, but it's a difficult fight. He so wants to talk to you about all this, but the idea of burdening you with his problems makes him wince. You're already worried enough for him, with all the time his job takes; he doesn't want to add to your worries.

So, naturally, Spencer turns to his best friend at work, JJ. She understands him better than anyone, without a word being said, and her presence is like a sanctuary in the face of his torments.

He is aware that this isn't fair to you, but he finds it unbearable to share what eats at him, to pollute your environment with his problems and anxiety.

"You should really talk to her, Spence," JJ says for the umpteenth time, after Spencer shared his discomfort that had intensified earlier, amplified by your disappointed tone after he announced he would spend the night at a friend's.

Spencer immediately shakes his head. "I can't —"

"I think your wife is wise enough to decide for herself," JJ retorts, a tad more sharply.

Spencer lowers his eyes, stung. Of course, he would never question your intelligence or your independence. He is also convinced that you do not grasp the full extent of what a possible diagnosis of schizophrenia could imply for him. What he would be imposing on you, if it were to develop. He bites his lip, sighing heavily as he runs his fingers through his hair.

Seeing the state Spencer is in, with his pronounced dark circles despite the comfort of the guest room bed, and his shoulders tense, JJ softens her tone.

"Just... think about it, okay? She loves you, otherwise you wouldn't be together."

Spencer finds nothing to reply and settles for a non-committal hum. These words don't reassure him as much as they should. That night, he doesn't find sleep easily, just like the previous nights.

...

...

It's been almost a week since Spencer hasn't returned to the apartment, to you. A case hit him particularly hard, and he hasn't been able to suppress these harmful emotions as he usually does.

He doesn't want you to see him like this. It's so pitiable. He wants to text you, even call you just to hear your voice, but he knows he would end up cracking, likely in tears, like a child seeking comfort from his mother.

Spencer is supposed to be strong, to be an exceptional husband for an exceptional wife; and lately, he feels incapable of being either. While keeping his distance is probably not the best solution, until he can get his life back in order and control his feelings, it will have to suffice.

You'll understand — you always do, in the end.

It was a mistake. A terrible mistake, because when he returns to the apartment, which smells of dust and exudes solitude, his heart sinks when his call remains unanswered and the silence persists.

"Honey?" His voice breaks terribly as he enters your bedroom to find the bed made, and your side of the bed devoid of your extra fluffy pillow and your small heavy, soft blanket. "Love, this isn't funny —"

Spencer's words die in his throat as he discovers the small pile of seemingly innocuous papers on the counter, topped with a simple pen. He knows what it is without even having to read, but that doesn't mean he accepts the situation immediately. He frowns, opening and closing his mouth as his trembling fingers touch the first page.

Spencer's eyes burn as an overwhelming emotion weaves through his bones.

"No," he murmurs, finally finding the courage to read the words inked on the page, his lower lip trembling and his breath hitching. "No, it's not supposed to be like this," Spencer articulates, shaking his head.

He fumbles feverishly in his pants pocket, and the only reason he manages to dial your number despite the tears blurring his vision is sheer habit. It's only when the dial tone sounds in his ear that he lets out a curse through clenched teeth and a deep sob shakes his entire body.

He tries again, and again, until...

Until his number is blocked, and that's when Spencer Reid fully realizes how much he's ruined the best thing that ever happened to him. All because he was afraid of his own mind.

...

...

JJ doesn't utter any reproachful words when Spencer shows up with his face marked by tears and his eyes reddened. He doesn't need to hear her thoughts to know she's thinking, "I told you so." And he can't even be mad about it.

"What do I do now?" Spencer asks miserably, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, his shoulders slumped. He doesn't want to divorce; he doesn't want to give up on the love of his life.

JJ doesn't know what to say, and Spencer doesn't even know what answer he's looking for. He has to pursue you, find you and hope he can explain himself, even if he doesn't deserve it, doesn't deserve your forgiveness for the way he's made you feel these past times.

Spencer surely chose the worst time to be selfish. But at this moment, he doesn't have the strength to care. All he wants is to belong to you again.

It takes several days for Spencer to find the courage to see you again. Of course, he knows where you are. He knows you by heart, after all.

...

...

When Spencer finally makes the decision to confront the situation, his heart is heavy but determined. The days apart have been excruciating, each moment filled with regret and longing. 

He's rehearsed what he wants to say a thousand times over, but now, standing at the threshold of possibly the most important conversation of his life, words seem to fail him.

The journey to you is a blur, his mind consumed with thoughts of how to mend what's been broken. He knows apologies are not enough, but they're a start. Spencer understands the magnitude of his mistake, the pain he's caused by shutting you out when he needed you the most. He's ready to open up, to share his fears and his struggles, hoping it's not too late to salvage the love you share.

As he arrives, his heart pounds with a mix of fear and hope. The anticipation of seeing you again, of possibly hearing your voice, fills him with a nervous energy he hasn't felt in a long time. Spencer knows the conversation ahead will be difficult, that there's a lot to work through, but he's committed to doing whatever it takes. He wants to prove that he can be the partner you deserve, that he can face his demons with you by his side.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer steps forward, ready to face whatever comes with honesty and love. He knows the path to reconciliation won't be easy, but he's hopeful. Hopeful that your shared history, the love and the memories you've built together, will be enough to overcome this challenge.

As he knocks on the door, waiting for an answer, Spencer rehearses his opening lines in his mind. "I'm sorry," will be his starting point, followed by the truth about his fears, his condition, and his deep-seated fear of burdening you.

But more than anything, he wants to convey his unwavering love for you, his desire to fight for your relationship, and his hope for a future together, despite the shadows that have crept into his life.

The door opens, and there you are.

[voxisdaddy]

Hello~! I hope you are having a wonderful day and I would like to humbly request a part 2 of the Velvette x reader break up seeing how reader is holding up.

Are they watching Hella Novelas as well? Do they regret the whole thing? I love Velvette and really want to see how this would be affecting both sides

-🎨 anon

Ice Cream

Pt 2

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Velvette x Reader

C/TW: cussing

Type: Headcanons + Drabble

In which we see from readers perspective on how they’re dealing with the break up.

Pt.1 Pt.3

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Opening up sinstagram, you scrolled past numerous posts on the discovery page. It seemed every other post was about your relationship with Velvette—hells most prominent fashionista and social media influencer. You huffed upon seeing another video of speculation on the status of your relationship.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You had deactivated your account long ago, a few hours after getting rid of all the remembrances of your previous relationship with the overlord. The memories were too much, and people speculating all the time was getting unbearable. You knew deactivation of your whole account might’ve been a bit too far, it most certainly had people talking, but you’ve seen this shit happen before;

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ High profile couple break up, people speculate, lots of talk and gossip, even months and years after it’s ended people will still talk, they’ll compare their new partners to their old partners, insist it’s a “right person, wrong time” type bullshit and just ugghhhh

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Do people have nothing better to do with their lives?” You’d ask yourself, liking a random post using your new account—a new and more anonymous account. You had made sure to keep it as less “HEY IM Y/N” as possible as to avoid any suspicions. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem to any other normal person. Though of course, your previous partner was no normal person and her associates were no normal folk either.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ it made you slightly paranoid at the thought that Vox could be aware of your new account—which was set to private—but considering he’s basically the king of tech, it wouldn’t surprise you that much if he had his ways. But it brought you some peace of mind that he probably doesn’t give a shit so he’d just leave you alone. Unless Velvette made him: then that’s an actual issue.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You frowned when thinking of Velvette—getting slightly upset with yourself for thinking about her.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It was hard not too though. You don’t just forget about someone who meant so much to you for so long, so quickly. Sometimes you wondered if you made the right choice. Did you regret it? Hmm…some days you did.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Some days you’d wake up and turn to the side to see a face you grew familiar to seeing every morning—she wouldn’t be there. Oh yeah. Of course she wouldn���t.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Some nights you slept just fine, not missing a familiar presence next to you or wishing she was there at all.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It was very strange. It’s still strange. It didn’t help that considering she’s fucking Velvette—she’s everywhere. Every app you open; oh Velvette or the Vee’s are top of trending? Shocker! Leave your place for a little while to do some shopping? Oh look on the billboards—it’s fucking Velvette. Dating a celebrity as big of a deal as Velvette you were aware would have some draw backs but at the time you never considered what the end of the relationship would be like. Cuz I mean like, who would think about the ending of a relationship with someone you really liked to even get into said relationship with anyways?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Somedays you opened your closet and yours eyes would drift to the clothing that Velvette had gifted you. Designed, hand made, complete with a spritz of her signature perfume to mark her scent on it—her own way of claiming you. You quirked an eyebrow at the clothing. It’s been… several weeks. Months maybe? Who knows but…

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Can’t keep hanging onto this forever…” You mumbled, thumb circling on a corner of a shirt she made you. It be nearly impossible to move on if you kept onto these sorts of things. I mean, you suppose by now she’d probably move on…right? Velvette doesn’t get attached to most things so…she has to be over it now. Right?

The walk to the nearest thrift store was anything but simple.

Meaning you had to take the long and more dangerous way around, through random alleyways and parkouring your way about. Their was VoxTek cameras everywhere in Pentagram city so you tried to avoid those as much as possible since dumping Velvette. Out of… slight fear, if you’re being honest.

No one disrespects and humiliates the Vee’s, evident from the Vox and Alastor fiasco, so you were slightly paranoid what Velvette or her fellow Vee’s would do to you since you are the one who ended things. You’re the one who deleted evidence of your relationship with the overlord on your very public account—which you then deactivated which of course only got people talking even more. Fucking great!

“I’m a real genius getting everyone’s attention on us Vel, whoopy.” You muttered quietly to yourself, dodging a stray bullet in the process.

The thrift store was in sight now, and in a quick jogging distance. You stopped from your corner, looking around for any VoxTek camera. Surely Vox isn’t always watching, right? He’s the ceo of his stupid empire for fucks sake, he should be way too busy to be sitting around looking at a bunch of random ass citizens in Pride. You spotted several cameras, making you tense.

“Just act natural. Don’t fuck up.” You whispered to yourself, completely missing the quirked eyebrows of a couple of sinners next to you that you apparently didn’t notice.

Pacing your steps correctly, you tried to make it seem like you weren’t just obviously trynna avoid said cameras. Just gotta blend in with the crowd.

Unbeknownst to you however, three overlords sat in Vox’s office, all the monitors displaying all the nearby streets to this thrift store.

Vox scrolled on his phone as he sipped his coffee, giving the occasional “uh huh” or “that bitch” whenever he felt necessary as he was forced to listen to Velvette’s rant. He was doing his usual work until Velvette and Valentino walked in, well more so Valentino dragging Velvette in. Apparently Velvette went on another tangent about ex’s and how she’s soooooo over you now. Valentino was too high too care but found it amusing nonetheless so he dragged the young overlord and himself to Vox so Vox could deal with keeping up with her tangent while the pimp just sits there and watches in amusement.

Velvette’s rant comes to a sudden stop when her eyes catches a glimpse of the monitors.

“Vox, teleport me there, now!”

With a quick grin to a staff member, you placed the group of neatly pressed clothes in the big donation bin.

The feelings of parting with the clothes was difficult for you to describe. Peace that you could more easily move on? Anxiousness that you’re letting your past relationship go? Self doubt began to flood your soul again.

In an almost desperate attempt to cling onto something, you took one article of clothing and sniffed it—wait is that her scent? You sniffed it again more confused this time. Wha—but you washed it! You washed all of these before donating them, why is that scent lingering around? Another sniff before you realized it wasn’t the clothing that had the scent.

“You’re kind of a freak for sniffing clothes, you know that?”

You turn on your heal, nearly jumping back in shock at how close the other was to you,

“Velvette.”

I’ve had this in my drafts for so long and I had no idea how to end it I’m so sorry. I really wanted to finish at least one request though bc I have so many that’s just sitting there half done 😭

Thank you for the request! I wasn’t expecting anyone to want a part 2 of sorts but I had fun and I hope it isn’t terrible lol

[angelatmidnight1]

Could I request a Karlach x Tav reader? Where Karlach accidentally discovers Tav who normally acts tough is actually embarrassingly ticklish?

Put 'Em Up

Fandom- Baldur's Gate 3.

Pairing- Karlach Cliffgate x Reader (lee!reader, ler!Karlach, tiny bit of lee!Karlach at the end). Reader puts on a tough personality and is strong like Karlach. Reader and Karlach are also in a romantic relationship.

Word Count- 2,216.

Warnings- None really, besides tickling and swearing.

Karlach asked to train with you, but she isn’t taking it very seriously. Instead, she uses it as an opportunity to flirt and get closer to you. You try to stay focused, but she accidentally finds out that you’re ticklish. It’s going to be a long match..

“Alright, babe. Hit me with your best shot.”

Karlach circled you with a bright grin, fists up. The two of you were training, and she was only too excited to tussle with you. Sure, she knew how important training was to you, but she’d take any excuse to get closer to you. You sized her up and hummed.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You took a swipe at her when she got too close, and she parried your blow. Karlach huffed.

“I should be saying that to you,” she chuckled. “But fine, just know that just because you’re playing nice doesn’t mean that I will.”

You smirked. You and Karlach were still early in your relationship, and there was a lot that she didn’t know about you. Although she was much taller and muscular than you, you could hold your own in a fight. In fact, you were known for your fighting prowess in Baldur’s Gate. You didn’t buy into the hype; you could rarely tolerate the company of others. But, Karlach was the exception. And she was in for one hell of a surprise. 

“Damn, you’re strong.” 

Karlach grunted as you pinned her on her back. Both of you were out of breath from wrestling each other. It wasn’t easy to get her down, but you managed. You straddled her waist and had her arms pinned above her head. “Way stronger than I thought..”

“I know,” You forced her arms back down when she tried to pull away. “I've flattened more people than I can count in Baldur’s Gate.”

Karlach breathed out a laugh. “At least you’re modest about it, huh?” She continued fidgeting in your grip, making it harder for you to keep her down. “I’ll be honest, I can’t remember the last time anyone’s pinned me. Usually it’s the other way around, heh. But, I could get used to this…”

The tiefling gave you a cheeky grin. One that made you exhale slowly through your nose. 

“Karlach,” Your cheeks flushed slightly. “Don’t start.”

“Ooo, bossing me around now?” Karlach’s grin widened, and her engine glowed.  “That’s hot..”

You shook your head, your blush darkening. “Shut up.” 

Karlach craned her head up to you with a challenging smirk. “You gonna make me?”

You stared at her, flustered, but you didn’t back down. Instead, you met her halfway and kissed her lips deeply. She hummed in surprise and happily returned the kiss. Her lips were warm, soft, and familiar. You got lost in that kiss. And, she had the opportunity to flip your positions. 

When your back hit the ground, you grunted softly. Karlach pinned your wrists by your sides and gave you a triumphant grin. 

“Gotcha.”

You groaned. “I should’ve known you would cheat.”

“Hey, all’s fair in love and war! And, I uh, really love you.” Karlach’s voice softened as she gazed down at you. “A lot.”

“I love you too.” The love she expressed to you was still overwhelming. Not in a negative sense, but it still felt a bit foreign to you. Before the nautolid, you were content to spend your days alone. Now, you weren’t sure what you’d do without Karlach’s bright presence, even if you didn’t express it. You ended the tender moment by adding, “Now let me up so I can kick your ass.”

Karlach threw her head back with a laugh. “I don’t think so. Maybe I like you here, with me on top.” She shot back, wiggling her eyebrows. You bit back a smile, giving her your best stern look. 

“We’re supposed to be training,” Your voice came out strained as you tugged against her grip. Your arms moved a couple of inches, but Karlach held on tighter, now using much more of her strength. “Not goofing off.”

“I know, but who says we can’t have a little fun too?” Karlach leaned down towards you. You leered at her. “Don’t give me that look, (Y/N). Gimme a smile.”

She kissed your cheek. Your forehead. Your nose. Your other cheek. You wiggled your head as she attacked your face with kisses, unable to stop your smile.

“Thihis isn’t training!” You protested. You continued squeaking and struggling until she moved the kisses to your neck. The kisses got sloppier, and each one ended with a loud ‘mwah’. You shivered and inadvertently squealed when her lips found a ticklish spot.

Karlach froze. There was a curious glint in her fiery eyes. 

“What was that?”

“Er, nothing.”

“Nothing? Are you sure?” A worried look came over Karlach’s features. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.” Your cheeks flushed again, but this time for a different reason. One of your closely guarded secrets was how ticklish you were. And it was for a good reason; you, alongside Karlach, were the muscle of your party. It was often said that you learned how to fight before you could walk. Any enemy that wasn’t afraid of you changed their tune when they saw the thrashing you’d given their friends. You didn’t want anyone to know that you could be taken down by something as embarrassing and childish as tickling. 

With a deep breath, you pulled down hard against Karlach’s grasp, freeing your wrists. Your feet found purchase on the ground and you sat up. You parried her attempts to grab and re-pin you and, after minutes of back and forth grappling, Karlach suddenly hoisted you in the air. Her claws dug into your sides with enough pressure to tickle, and you inadvertently wheezed. Karlach froze again and turned you around in her arms so that you faced her. 

“Am I tickling you?” The curious glint in her eyes turned playful as she held you in the air. Your heartbeat quickened as you stared back at her. 

“No, you aren’t. You’re just squeezing a bit hahard—” A slight giggle escaped you, and you coughed to mask it. Karlach held you in a gentler grip, giving your sides a much softer squeeze. You gasped, “P-Put me down..”

“I don’t know,” Karlach obliged by setting you back on the ground. But she kept her hands on your sides, squeezing just below your rib cage. You batted her hands away with another concealed giggle. “That sounded like a laugh to me.”

“It wasn’t!” You held one arm closer to your torso protectively and resumed your fighting stance. “Enough talk, let’s keep at it.” 

“Right, sure.” Karlach chuckled. There was something about her tone and the way she now sized you up that made you feel wary. But, you pushed the feeling away, charging her and initiating another grappling session.

Instead of responding how you thought she would, where maybe she’d drag you back to the ground or pick you up again, her hands ended up on your torso again. She gripped your hips, squeezing and prodding them, and you choked back more laughter. 

“Whahat the hell ahare you doing?” You grabbed her wrists, fighting with her grip, but she didn’t let up. Your laughter was getting harder to hold back. You accidentally stumbled backwards during your attempt to free yourself from her grasp. Karlach happily followed you down. 

“Not ticklish my ass, you’re laughing!” She accused, poking randomly along your torso. You frantically grabbed at her wrists and grit your teeth. 

“Noho I’m not!” You arched your back when she prodded at your belly, squealing again. “Stop thahat!”

“Then why’re you laughing, huh? What’s so funny?” Grinning, Karlach straddled your waist, trapping your flailing arms at your sides. Her hands descended onto your ribs and she scritched up and down the bones. You bit your lips to halt your impending giggle fit. 

“N-Nohot laughing…” You gasped, trying to tug your arms free. Now, Karlach was utilizing her full strength on you, and she was determined to keep you down. You arched your back when her hands scampered back down your sides. She alternated between poking and squeezing and you pinched your eyes shut. It tickled so badly, but you were determined to hold out. Your partner’s giddy, teasing voice echoed in your ears. 

“(Y/N), baby, I know you wanna laugh..” Karlach smirked. She pinched your hips again, kneading them, and you wheezed. She giggled. “Better admit it before I really start tickling you.”

You tried to ignore her, your feet drumming against the ground as she kept tickling. A silly grin spread across your face. She clawed at your belly again, and the dam finally broke. 

You tossed your head back, giving in to your loud, wheezing laughter. “FUHUAHA! KAhaharlach, stahahahp!”

Karlach’s eyes brightened. “Oho, I knew it!” She cheered. She drilled her thumbs into the sides of your belly, and you wheezed again. 

You were laughing too hard to answer her. You shook your head back and forth as you fell into a deeper pit of laughter. Eventually, you were able to give her a minimal response.  “FAHahahaha offhahaha! Gehehehet off of mehehehehehe!”

“Mm, maybe later,” she snickered. She eased off your stomach and pulled your arms above your head with one hand. You tried to yank your arms free before she could fully pin them, but she moved fast, and your squealing fell flat. She wriggled her claws at you tauntingly. “All this time, and I had no idea you were ticklish!”

“Youhuhu wehehehren’t suhuhposed tohohoho!” You fired back, still giggling from the previous attack. You watched her claws and squirmed under her. “Dohohn’t you dare! Let me up!”

“Oh, I dare, soldier,” Karlach chuckled. She hovered her hand just inches away from your torso. “Besides, I still got a match to win here.”

Again, you shook your head. You were nothing if not stubborn. “Karlach,” you started warily. “Let me up. This isn’t what wehehehe agreehehed toohoo-”

Karlach alternated pokes between your sides, earning yelps and squealing giggles. “Say uncle!”

You squealed louder as she suddenly reached up and scribbled into your underarms. You tugged at your arms with all of your strength, but they didn’t budge. You made a poor attempt to hold back the giggle fit that overtook you. 

“Kahahaharlahahach!” You whined, giggling harder when she increased her efforts. “Nohohoho tickling! Youhuhuhu chehehater!”

“Say uncle,” she repeated, smiling widely. Your underarms didn’t seem all that ticklish, so she went back to your torso. Your giggling turned frantic, and when she poked into your tummy, you wheezed. Her tail wagged behind her as she did it again, again, and again. 

“NOHOHO-” You snorted, which amused Karlach even further. She switched from poking to kneading her thumbs into the sides of your stomach. You laughed loudly and bucked your hips. 

“Damn, no wonder you were able to pin me,” Karlach was saying as she squeezed and scritched over your tummy. “You’ve got all this muscle!” She added to her comment by kneading her thumbs back into your skin, which earned her another wheeze. You blushed deeply.

“NOHOHOT FUHUHUNNY!” 

Karlach snorted. “I’m serious! You’re the whole package: strong, smart, attractive. Oh, and adorable. Heh. It’s a miracle my engine hasn’t given out sooner ‘cause of you.” She slowed down the tickling, stroking her claws just above your belly button. Your laughter died down to heavy giggles, and you were able to catch your breath. “I’m still waiting on that ‘uncle’ by the way.”

You didn’t plan on giving it to her; you were nothing if not stubborn. During her tickle attack, she’d eased up on her grip on your arms. You were tired, but your tenacity gave you just enough energy to pull yourself free from her hold. What you did next was out of your norm, but as far as you were concerned, it was completely warranted. 

“You wanna play like that, huh?” You threw yourself at her, sending both of you crashing on the ground. It was harder to get her pinned down like you did earlier. But, once your fingers dug into her sides, Karlach burst into loud laughter. 

“It wahahahahs wohohohohrth ihihihihit!” Karlach squealed and bucked her hips as your hands darted all over her torso. She was hot to the touch, but it didn’t burn, and you were gonna have your revenge. Soon enough though, Karlach was able to reverse your positions again, aiming straight for your belly. She held you in her arms this time, and she didn’t let up. She buried her head into the crook of your neck, kissing and nuzzling into your skin, and you finally tapped out.

“ALRIHIHGHT! Okay! Uncle!” 

The tickling stopped and you laid your head back to catch your breath. Karlach held you flush against her chest. The sparring session was a workout for her too, and she was almost as breathless as you were.

“That was fun,” Karlach said after a while, chuckling. “We’ve gotta do this sparring thing more often. I haven’t had that much fun in, well, ever.” 

“I don’t think our enemies would expect us to tickle them, Karlach.” You answered, shaking your head affectionately. There was a small part of you that wanted to be angry at a sparring session turned tickle fight, but it was difficult for you to be angry with her. “You, on the other hand, are in for it once I catch my breath.”

Karlach grinned, and you could feel her engine glow behind you. “Bring it on, (Y/N)."

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to post, but I hope you like the story!

[strawb3rrystar]

Hi! I’m autistic and a lesbian and my current hyper fixation/ comfort show is Hazbin Hotel and my favorite/comfort character is Angel Dust. I was wondering if you could write a platonic Angel x gn/fem reader that is angsty and involves the reader comforting and taking care of Angel after a really bad night with Valentino. With cuddling, and handholding and Angel dealing with addiction/ self harm and the reader just being there and supporting him or something. I totally understand if not I just thought I would ask. Also I’m a huge fan of your work!!

You're too pretty to cry.

Pairing: Angel Dust x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, addiction, self-harm, self-destructive habits, valentino is his own warning, harassment

Word count: 563

✰Masterlist

You watch as Angel walks right past you in the parlor and heads straight upstairs. It wasn't like him to ignore you like this, so you knew something was up. You also got a glance at his face, his eyes puffy with dark circles under them. You made the ultimate decision to follow him to his room.

You gently knock on his door and wait. A few minutes go by before you hear footsteps walking towards the door. It takes a second for Angel to unlock and open the door, but when he does you're met with him wiping his tears away.

He lets you inside and closes the door behind you. Your protective friend instincts kick in and you ask him what happend today. The two of you sit down on his bed as he details the rough night he had with Val. It ended with a massive argument between the two of them and Angel running out of the studio.

The more Angel explained what happend, the more upset you felt about his situation. You've always hated Valentino, from the first time Angel brought him up. It sickend you every time you met one of his 'fans'. You would literally have to yell at them to make them go away. You would constantly have to stop Angel from drinking or doing too much drugs whenever you went out. But, you felt you had to because everyone around him just encourage his self-destructive habits.

You pushed that thought aside, offering your hand to him. He looked at you for a second, then puts one of his hands in yours. You give him a reassuring smile in return. "Do you want me to run you a hot bath to relax?"

Angel stares at you, confused, then takes the suggestion into consideration. He nods his head, letting you guide him to the bathroom. Remembering the times when you would ice his black eyes, and bruises from Val. The times you would properly clean and bandage his self-harm wounds. The warm hugs that followed. Your sweet voice telling him it wasn't his fault, even if it was done by his hands.

After he left the studio, he thought about going to a club. But he made his way to the hotel instead. He didn't really know why. But in the back of his head, Angel Dust was thinking about how worried you would be if he didn't come back.

He watches as you start the water, and pour some bubble bath and salts into the water. Meanwhile, Angel undresses and gets into his robe. You ask him a very simple question after the bath was ready, but it was Hell-shattering for Angel. "Are you okay by yourself? Or do you want me to stay?"

Angel asks you to stay, tears forming in his eyes out of joy instead of sadness. You were there, always there. The only sinner who was truly looking out for him. He lets out a content sigh as he sinks down into the hot water. Reaching out one of his hands through the bubbles for you to hold. You do, sitting beside the tub with him.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Always being there for me."

"What kind of friend would a be if I wasn't?"

"A shitty one probably."

You both laughed at that, fingers laced together, smiles and spirits rising.

Star's notes -> I don't write angst often enough honestly. Maybe it's because I don't like reading it personally lol. I really liked this idea though, thank you anon!

(Thank you, sweet anon, for requesting!) (Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @alexandria-fandom @corruptcoder @astrolovedy @perfectlycraftychaos @stressedbleach @idontreallyexistyet @ghostdoodlen @roboticsuccubus83 @blood-heart22 @myamythos @samohxt2-0 @mollzaj @sunshines-bright | Join the taglist

[pinky-the-elephant-room]

The trouble with liking older men

♋AN: It's a new year which means more AM smut

♋Warning: All Might x Younger Fem Reader (she's in her 20s), age gap, age difference, daddy kink, explicit smut, and rough sex. Read at your own discretion.

♋Summary: You met your idol for the first time in your life. There was no way you were gonna let this chance slip out of your hands.

♋♋♋♋♋♋

It all started when she was out on patrol with Fatgum. She was his loyal sidekick for a couple of years now. Technically she still counted as a rookie and had learned so much under the tutelage of Fatgum. 

Imagine her surprise when a routine patrol of Fatgum’s favorite family restaurants ended up with a standoff against villains plus with All Might of all people coming to help.

“That was good work,” Fatgum managed with his mouth full of food. “Want some?” The rotund yellow hero held out a skewer of yakitori to All Might.

The symbol of peace shook his head demurely. “I’m alright. Thanks for the offer.”

Fatgum shrugged and shoved the skewer into his mouth before taking it out, stripped of all the meat, and with ease chucked the empty skewer into a nearby trashcan.

“E-excuse me,” Y/N called from behind Fatgum.

“Oh, there you are, Y/N-chan. Where’d you go?” he said as he turned around to see Y/N standing there. 

“I was here the whole time,” she murmured.

“Young lady! Are you alright?” All Might asked; he stepped closer, not seeing the flustered reaction on her face. “You took quite the hit from that villain.”

She felt dizzy. The All Might asked if she, a lowly sidekick, was alright. Suddenly it felt like oxygen was being deprived, and she was suffocating.

“Breathe.”

Y/N immediately felt her chest convulse and her heartbeat resume thumping behind her chest. She watched wide-eyed as All Might clutched and rubbed her hands. 

“Maybe she needs medical attention?” he fussed.

Fatgum chuckled, “She’ll be fine. Just let go of her.”

“Oh,” All Might let out an embarrassed laugh and, with a blush, quickly let go of her. Y/N felt disappointed as his large hands were no longer encompassing hers. 

She was numb as All Might and Fatgum exchanged a few more words before the symbol of peace disappeared into the crowd. The crowd surrounded him, his laughter evident even amongst the high-pitched screams.

Panicked, she turned towards Fatgum. “Wait! He’s leaving?”

“Of course,” Fatgum swallowed a moment before munching on the seasoned meat again. “He says he has business to attend to in Musustafu.”

“Already? But I didn’t even get a chance to say thank you.”

Y/N only managed to embarrass herself in front of her role model. No biggie. 

“You’ll see him again soon. We’re going out for drinks later tonight. His treat.”

“That’s good… Wait tonight?!”

“That’s what he said” Fatgum tossed another empty skewer. “Just don’t drink too much like last time.”

The last time meant when she got shitfaced from one shot of sake, but in her defense, it was really strong.

“I won’t drink at all!” she vowed. 

She won’t let herself be embarrassed again. 

♋♋♋♋♋♋

Most women her age were into pro heroes like Best Jeanist or Edgeshot if you were looking for a bit of adventure. And according to some gossip article she happened upon online Hawks was the number one hero women in their 20s wanted to ask out.

She didn’t necessarily agree with any of those sentiments despite being in her 20s.

Y/N watched with lidded eyes, circling the top of her beer glass as All Might threw his head back and laughed, uninhibited in his joy.

No, her tastes were a little old school.

Adored by the masses, All Might’s core fandom consisted of the older population and young children. 

She would know she grew up with an All Might fanatic in her mother. Maybe that’s why even now Y/N couldn’t get him out of her mind.

If someone were to look at her past lovers, they all varied in different combinations of buff with blue eyes and blond hair. You could say that she had a type. 

She let out a sigh and tossed some bills on the table.

Who was she kidding? All Might and her?

The no. 1 hero and a sidekick of no.58. That sounded laughable even in her head. 

She sent a text to Fatgum, letting him know she was leaving, and hoped to see him bright and early for their patrols. Not wanting to disturb his and All Might’s conversation, she left as inconspicuously as possible.

You wouldn’t think it was nearing 2 AM from the bright city lights and crowded streets, but this was late for someone who liked to be in bed by 11 PM. 

“Y/N is your name, right?” a voice asked behind her.

She jolted out of her thoughts and turned around to face All Might, who seemed curious about her.

“All Might! I thought you were still in the bar with Fatgum.”

“I can’t quite stomach a long drinking session like I used to,” he sheepishly remarked. “Though Fatgum seemed like he was going to do another round when I left him.”

“Ah, yes, I’m L/N Y/N. Please take care of me,” Y/N said as she bowed.

He returned her greetings with, “Likewise.”

They stood awkwardly next to each other, not knowing what else to say.

“Umm, I’m-”

“Do you mind-” They both began at the same time. 

She giggled nervously and gestured for him to start instead.

“I wouldn’t feel right letting you walk home alone. Do you mind if I walk with you?”

“That’s not necessary at all! I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

He waved her off. “It’s no trouble at all. It’s the least I could do since I failed to stop the villain in time, and you had to take the blow for it.”

Why was he apologizing to her? It wasn’t his fault she failed to notice the villain's plan in time. She’d been a sidekick for years and still kept messing up at crucial points. 

Maybe that’s what separated the symbol of peace from other pro-heroes. All Might took on tremendous responsibility even when it wasn’t his burden.

Y/N glanced at him from the corner of her eye; he changed into casual clothes for the evening- looking devastatingly handsome. 

How many people could say they had the privilege of seeing this side of All Might?

“So,” he began. “I heard from Fatgum your quirk is called balloon anima. What exactly does it do?”

She wished that Fatgum would stop talking her up in front of his colleagues. It was sweet but embarrassing. In this case, however, she was happy to talk about herself if it meant spending more time with her favorite hero.

“Basically, I can enlarge and animate balloon animals.”

He blinked and then mouthed ‘balloon animals’ as if he didn’t know what to make of her quirk.

She waved her hands around in a panic. “It sounds lame, don’t get me wrong, but it has so many uses. I can use them as helpers, for protection, and even get them to rescue people!”

“Hmm. That sounds like a quirk that would be popular with kids. I can see it now.” 

“Y-you think so? 

“Of course!”

Well, Y/N supposed All Might would know a thing or two about being popular with kids, so who was she to argue?

They continued their trek until the city lights faded, and nothing but stars shone above them. The crowds dispersed until it was just the two of them walking along the sidewalk.

“Well, this is my building,” she said, pointing to the building. “Thank you for accompanying me.”

“It was my pleasure,” All Might said with a grin. “I’ll wait here until you get inside.”

He motioned with his hand as if he were ushering her inside.

Y/N bit her lip uncertainly. Was she making a mistake?

Nevertheless, Y/N stepped forward until she encroached on All Might’s space.

He looked at her curiously. “Is something the matter?”

She lifted her hand and paused before grabbing his shirt and yanking.

His lips slanted against hers, and she felt him jolt and stiffen. But she didn’t lose her nerves and stood on the balls of her feet to pull him closer.

She exhaled through her nose and firmly pressed against his mouth.

A moment later, his arm snaked around her waist, almost lifting her in his embrace.

Y/N was trembling; her hands shook as her fingers curled in his shirt. He hadn’t pushed her away! And more than that he was responding back!

Enthusiastically, she might add.

A loud moan was prompted by him when he bit down on her bottom lip gently before sucking. 

Oh god. It was too much. Y/N couldn’t control herself as she eagerly jumped and snared her legs around his waist.

He caught her with ease with one hand and caressed her face with the other as he took his opportunity to enter her mouth and cajoled her tongue into playing. 

She felt absolutely electrified. All her life, she had dreamed of this moment as soon as she was old enough to know what kissing meant, and even then, it paled in comparison to reality. 

He was so firm and warm against her body. It made her want to take all his clothes off and lick/nibble to her heart’s content until he was panting with desperate neediness. 

“Mmm,” he groaned against her. “So good. Such a good girl, Y/N.”

Y/N writhed against his pelvis, completely frustrated that her jeans had no friction.

Then Y/N remembered they were publicly making out in front of her apartment building—she with the most famous and recognizable pro hero in Japan. 

She abruptly let go with a gasp and tried to separate herself.

“W-why did you stop?” All Might panted, his lips still wet and shiny from their kiss. He looked stricken at the distance between the two of them now.

“Maybe we should go inside to continue?” she half-asked and half-pleaded. Hoping All Might wouldn’t want to end the night prematurely.

There was no need, though. He nodded eagerly and held out his hand for her to take.

“Ok. Where to?”

She smiled, flattered that he seemed to want this as much as she did. 

Her apartment was on the third floor, so she headed straight toward the elevator. It was more than relieving when they encountered no one and could make their way to the lift without complications. 

As soon as the elevator’s doors closed and the corresponding button was pressed. All Might cornered Y/N against the elevator panels.

To anyone, he merely looked like he was tenderly embracing his lover. But Y/N felt his heavy breaths against her neck and his blue eyes piercing her own as his hand made its way down her jeans.

She let out a tiny broken groan when her panties were pushed aside and felt his tentative fingers breach her pussy.

He shuddered, discovering the sticky wetness that coated her inner thighs and panties.

All he did was skim the outer lips and, every now and then, teased her clit in a circular motion.

Her heart was thudding against her chest. If All Might were aware of anything but caressing her cunt, no doubt he would have known his effect on her poor heart. 

Her pleasurable torture ended when with a ding the elevator stopped and slid open.

All Might reluctantly removed his hand and pulled away from her.

Y/N took a moment to gather herself before showing her companion the way to her apartment. 

It took a couple of tries to get the key into the keyhole and open the door with her nervousness.

But she managed and let him into her meager dwelling.

Quickly perusing the surroundings, she didn’t see anything embarrassing lying around that she didn’t need to hide. 

“So, what’s your poison?” he asked, quickly appraising the apartment and turning his attention toward Y/N.

“Huh?” she so eloquently replied. 

Why was he asking about alcohol? They just came back from a bar.

“For the first time, it makes sense we should do it on the bed,” he said, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper. “But it also doesn’t fit the mood.”

His pants were discarded on the floor. 

“M-mood?” Y/N stuttered and gulped when she saw him start to reach for his boxers. “What do you mean by that?”

“The kind of mood you have sex until you pass out and not be able to walk tomorrow.” He smirked and left his boxers alone, instead taking off his shirt.

All Might firmly grasped her throat and walked backward until the back of her legs hit her sofa and pushed.

“We’ll start here and make our way to the bedroom,” he said, standing over her and pulling off his boxers. “Sounds good to you?”

She nodded, eyeing his semi-erect cock. 

“Any objections? Or questions?”

“Just one, can I call you daddy?”

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t,” he grinned while trying to unbutton her jeans.

She lifted her butt so he could maneuver her jeans down her legs and remove them altogether.

Her jeans plus her shirt both joined his clothes onto the floor.

Y/N reached back to remove her bra, but he halted her. Instead, he pushed the cups up and revealed her chest - making it look obscene. He couldn’t help but bend down and taste. She whimpered at him softly, lapping at her pebbled peaks. 

He didn’t need to do this. She was more than ready, but the way he was enjoying her, slowly tasting and grinding heatedly into her hip. She was being savored, and his eyes watched her religiously, the sight of her slowly becoming undone. 

Y/N got flipped around; her hands rested on the sofa arms while her knees were bent on the seat. She felt All Might crowded behind her and pulled down her jeans. 

She felt him caress her bottom still covered by her silk panties before they too were pulled down.

Her garments pooled around her ankles, and she didn’t even get a moment to kick them off before she felt him line up his cock near her entrance.

Y/N let out a startled gasp at the size of his cock. Or at least what she could feel of him rubbing back and forth languidly. 

Then without warning, he entered full throttle and stayed there.

She choked on the hiss she let out prematurely and bore with the sudden burn.

He set a rigorous pace. Never before has a man made her feel so small physically. At over 7 ft, he engulfed her in his heat. His chest-baring down on her back. She should feel suffocated, unable to escape. Instead, a part of her felt cognizant. The fact she was being held down and used as a sleeve, essentially for his cock made her insides stir and burn.

“Daddy,” she gasped. “Harder.”

There was a pause in his rhythm. Almost as if he was considering Y/N's request. It was only a moment, yet she held her breath, hoping that he would oblige. 

All Might gripped her hips tightly, and she prayed that he would leave bruises for her to admire later. 

Then he started battering her insides like she owed him and he was looking to collect.

Y/N’s screams were muffled amongst the sofa’s cushions.

She felt him tug her hair, firm but not harsh.

“Let me hear you, Y/N”

A chill went down her spine; she let out her sobs unrestrained and wild.

The sofa itself started edging toward the wall due to the strength of All Might’s back-and-forth movements.

Feeling herself building an imminent crescendo, she reached down to touch herself.

“You’re close?” He groaned in response.

His pace became faster and more ruthless to assist in her efforts.

Y/N was helpless to resist. Her pleasure washed over her and her body contorted due to the intensity.

Her eyes rolled back and her teeth clenched as wave after wave prolonged her climax.

“Oh, Daddy,” she chanted. “Yes!” Nonsense spilled out as she reached back and grabbed his face to kiss.

They kiss until a deep bone fatigue replaced her earlier ecstasy. The exhaustion from her activities caught up to her.

Y/N let go of All Might and collapsed onto the sofa, trying and failing to catch her breath. 

All Might watched her with pride and satisfaction while retreating from her body. His cock wet from her exertion still jutting outwards.

“It’s not over yet,” he said as he picked Y/N up and carried her to the bedroom.

She gulped and hoped she would somehow still be able to walk tomorrow.

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Charles/Max AUs

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On the Ice by @f1tyreslightmyfyre | T | 5.5k Max is a hockey player, and Charles is a figure skater! Cue a lot of teasing and romance. This was so cute!!! I absolutely loved the teasing and the dynamics between Charles and Max. So much fluff! It was also based off of an artwork in the community that everyone needs to see too!

'Max knows that he probably stares like a lovesick puppy, but who can blame him? “Am I dreaming?” He says by way of greeting. “Or is that you, pretty boy?” Charles doesn’t quite roll his eyes as he scoffs in amusement. “Yeah, of course, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” He skates in a lazy, easy circle around Max. “I know I’m irresistible, but I know you can do it.”'

nsfw: chemical (can't let go) by @alphatinies | E | 8k Max is in a club bathroom when suddenly, his rut hits. It turns out– his ex, Charles, is willing to help him through it. Even if they broke up 3 months ago. I really loved the A/B/O dynamics! It was a fantastic read and I love the raw dialogue and want that Max has for Charles. Nothing is ever really over!

'They broke up three months ago. Coming here is not only humiliating, but also stupid—they haven’t talked since the break-up, agreed on a clean cut, pretending not to know each other whenever their friend circles happen to cross paths. They’re mature about it. Mostly.'

all this happened, more or less by @lightningmickqueen | ? | 10.3k In lockdown, a popstar named Escalier Des Fleurs has taken storm. It turns out he's a familiar face: Charles Leclerc. And– he's singing about his crush, Max Verstappen. I loved this fic so much! It was one of my first fics I read when I was introduced to the F1 fandom. It's such an adorable story, and is very very VERY reminiscent of Hannah Montana. Read if you want a fluffy, angsty with a happy ending story!!!

'i am having the hardest time processing the fact that the ferrari strategy team cannot put together a strategy but charles leclerc can have two successful and unrelated careers #his team doesn’t know the weather #meanwhile charles is in the car writing a song in his head that will go on to be one of the best selling songs of all time #WITCHCRAFT'

Story of Our Lives by Eviestappen, footysel | G | 16.3k When Charles and Max meet when they are kids, they are both drawn to football. Charles' assists and Max's goals are teamwork at its best. But when Max has to move back to Belgium, they're torn apart. However, life throws them for a loop, and they are reunited again and again. I love a good childhood friends to lovers arc! Plus, this taught me so much about football terminology. It's literally Lestappen IRL but with football instead! Adorable must-read!

When the final whistle blew, they all collapsed onto their knees, shedding a few tears of happiness as they once again crowded the dutch boy. They sang cheers in his honor, hoisting him high up in the air during the trophy presentation.  For the first time in my life, it's all so clear. I feel calm like I belong. I'm so happy here. Just as it had been all season, Charles picked up the ‘star of the match’ award posing alongside Max, who had received the ‘player of the tournament’ trophy. The two young boys, predictably future stars, smiling like there was no tomorrow.

nsfw: noir désir by @alphatinies | E | 24k Max moves in with Charles and Pierre. Charles is an artist struggling with inspiration, which he happens to find in Max. There is a lot of longing in this fic which I love, it’s practically palpable. Charles especially struggles with his desire for max as he has a lot of history with Pierre. The mix of it being a character study and exploration, but also having good plot progression was absolutely amazing. One of my absolute favourites and made me feel many emotions. This fic is what AUS23 (1:1) sounds like.

'The desire hasn’t dissipated by the time they pull apart. Charles almost expects there to be a moment of clarity, to realise what he’s done—but that doesn’t come. When Max pulls away, Charles could still drown in his eyes, yearning to taste him again, and he does, leaning forward to press their mouths together. He kisses him eagerly, like he’s trying to prove a point—he wants this just as much as Max does, he can’t stop thinking about him in a way that he hopes is reciprocated, he wants him.'

glitch by @nyoomfruits | T | 26.5k Max is a webmaster at a fashion magazine, and an F1 fan. He has a meet-cute with driver Charles in the elevator at when Charles turns up for a photoshoot. It's love at first sight for Charles. I love an office romance and I guess this was half of one. Max is so not interested at first but Charles is charming and persistent-but-not-pushy and the developing relationship is sweet and unhurried. The fic deals with the realities of dating a famous person when you value privacy. The peanut gallery/Greek chorus provided by Daniel and Lando is hilarious and very in character.

'Daniel opens his mouth, presumably to say thank you, but then he looks at the coffee cup and frowns. “Uh,” he says, pointing at the cup and looking up at Max. “Where’s the rest of it?” Max pulls a face. “Soaking into the shirt of two time Formula One World Driver Champion Charles Leclerc.” “What,” Daniel says, as Lando pops his head over the divider with a gleeful look on his face. “Oh this sounds like it’s going to be good,” he says, as he catches the red bull can Max throws him one handed. “What happened?” Max sighs. “I ran into him in the elevator. Literally. Then I told him he was braking too early on turn 11 yesterday and that’s probably why he lost, and he just kept staring at me, so I kind of panicked, and got out of the elevator three floors too early.” “You are a gift to this earth,” Lando says, sighing delightedly as Daniel howls with laughter next to him. “Like who the fuck does that? Meets one of their favorite drivers and then tells them their braking is shit. Truly, only you. I’m so glad we are friends.” “Max, Maxy, never change,” Daniel says, trying to catch his breath. “God I wish I could have been there.” “You,” Max says, pointing between the two of them with his Red Bull can. “Both suck.” “What was he even doing here?” Lando asks, as Daniel wipes the tears from the corners of his eye. “No clue,” Max says, with a shrug. “Didn’t think to ask.” “Too busy insulting his braking,” Daniel says, sending himself off into another peel of laughter.'

no brakes on by @drivestraight | T | 32.5k Max is a Red Bull driver, but Charles is a (surprisingly good) actor. After a not-so-good meet-cute, they're suddenly drawn together after having to make amends for PR. I love AUs where half of a pair is still a driver yet the other doesn't have to do anything with racing at all! The fic deals with the perils of being famous and always in the spotlight while dealing with romance. And, Sebastian is still driving for Ferrari!

'Real. That’s—that’s a hard concept. For most of Max’s life, the past, the present, the future; what was in front of him and what was merely a dream he was running toward, they blended together. He spent seventeen years, even the years he can’t remember, working at his dream, then all of a sudden, it was his reality. Fast forward seven years he was a champion, everything he wanted to be but wasn’t sure if he would ever be. It’s just—everything has moved so fast. Max can’t tell real from unreal anymore. He wants to rest, wants to live in the moment, but the moment is—it keeps moving. It keeps escaping him. He isn’t sure where it is, isn’t sure where he is. What is real, what is not. Max feels like he could wake up one day, twelve years old again, strapped into his go-kart in pouring Holland rain, trying to find grip where there wasn’t, thinking of better things and a brighter future.'

nsfw: give me that fire by Lady_Something | E | 40k Chef!au, Max and Charles have history, but it doesn't stop Charles from coming to work as Max's new sous chef. Exes to lovers. To be honest working in a restaurant sounds like a nightmare but for some reason I love reading stories with this setting. This fic was an emotional rollercoaster in the best way, at times I was near tears and had completely given up on a happy ending but the lovely lady_something brought it all together in a both happy and realistic ending. If you like well written and delightfully flawed characters dealing with complicated relationships and grief, this is a fic for you! Trigger warning for death of a pet!

'“Charles, I just spent the last four years thinking I’d lost you forever. That I’d ruined not just the best relationship I would ever have, but the best friendship as well. If there is even the slightest chance that I can earn back enough of your trust for you to give me another chance, I will do whatever you want.” Charles chews on his bottom lip, his cheeks flushing beautifully. “That’s a lot of power to give somebody over you,” Charles says slowly, twisting the fork in his hand nervously. “I trust you,” Max answers immediately. “You probably shouldn’t,” he says softly. “I still haven’t forgiven you for not wanting me to go to Arthur.” Max wonders what Charles might make him do, if he were feeling vindictive. He’s never been on the receiving end of Charles’ pettiness, not really—except when he’d sabotaged Max’s serving to the Michelin Inspectors in Paris—but he’s seen it. When they were kids, he’d seen it a lot. He’d always thought it was funny, that Max had a reputation amongst their peers for being aggressive—but Max had always known that Charles was really the unhinged one between them.'

Of Shadow by racingline | M | 46k Charles Leclerc is a typical college student. Except, it turns out, none of what he knows is true: he's stuck in a universe where racing, his family, and the people he love don't exist. This is one of my all-time favorite magical realism fics! It's crazy, each chapter had me so hooked and wanting to know what happens next constantly. I loved it so much and the universe.

'Charles’ brain is still an echo of modena yellow and rosso corsa, the sounds of the factory and the smells of winter in Italy a vibrant flurry against the flat backdrop of his reality. He thinks of Maranello and Ferrari, the uneasy whine of Jules’ Renault when he revved the engine too high at every red light on the drive back to Monaco like each one was the start of a race. He thinks of the Academy–of Jules, who was the first one to be signed, and of himself, the first to make it all the way through. He thinks of the garage, more an artists’ studio than a factory. He thinks of Enzo and the son he lost too soon. He thinks, amo pensare che la Ferrari puo costruire piloti tanto quanto macchine, and he thinks, ask a child to draw a car and certainly he’ll draw it red. He thinks of mistaking the Italian anthem for that of his own country; he thinks of the scuderia in all its infallible, divine contradictions; its hopes and heartbreaks interlinked in an endless chain.'

nsfw: The Things You Do by loveleclerc | E | 71.9k Dutch mafia boss Max meets Charles in a strip club, where the latter formally works. After Charles decides to steal his wallet and go on a shopping spree, Max finds him, and lots of teasing ensues. Plus, Max is practically Charles' sugar daddy. This was genuinely so captivating and so hot. The plot was so insanely well-written and made me want to keep coming back! I read this on a plane ride and it made the time fly.

'“The quiet only lasted so long. Shouting in Italian and Dutch soon erupted from somewhere in the house along with gunfire that made Charles flinch, covering his ears while he squeezed his eyes shut. What the fuck had his life become?”'

nsfw: grapefruit mignonette by slapshots | E | 73.6k Max is an esteemed chef working under Christian Horner and Charles is an part-time server and architecture student. It turns out, tension does wonders for attracting the two together. So much food imagery! God, when I was reading this, I got so hungry. The descriptions were so lovely! And, I love any restaurant AUs. The characters were so funny and I loved their attitudes.

“Charles, this is our Executive Chef Max,” Christian said, picking up the fork and digging into it. “Charles just moved from –“ “France,” Max said. “Monaco,” Charles corrected. “Monaco is in France.” “I assure you, Chef, that Monaco is its own country.”

mr. invisible and the thing by @chubbydino | M | 97k A soulmate AU where Charles is a mechanic and Max is Daniel's agent. But– Max doesn't believe in soulmates, and Charles is struggling to cope. I love this fic so much! I reread the whole fic every update. Slow burn and soulmates are some of my favorite AUs and it's a fantastic read with some of the best writing in the fandom.

'Max hated the person his life had been mangled with. He referred to him as The Thing, because Max considered him more demon than anything else. Soulmates—he hated that term, but he had no other one to use in conversation—seemed awfully similar to demonic possession. The Thing certainly haunted him. The Thing seemed to like every kind of food Max hated. Every morning, Max tasted frothed milk and espresso when he woke up. Every morning, it made him gag. The Thing also liked French Onion soup during winter (palatable), mango in summer (chalky), and some vile kind of meat in the fall. The Thing lived in Europe somewhere, Max guessed. The Thing woke up at dawn and didn’t sleep until dark. The Thing’s schedule made it nearly impossible for Max to nap—and Max loved to nap. The Thing was also scared of cars. Max couldn’t describe how he knew, but the sound of a Formula 1 car always made him nervous the first time he heard it on race weekend, distant terror echoing in his bones. Further proof that the system was flawed—no soulmate of his would be scared of what he'd devoted his whole life to.'

thank you to @blueballsracing, @maaxverstappen, & @lydia-petze for compiling this list 💝

[zenkindoflove]

Kneel Before Me - Elucien Oneshot

Title: Kneel Before Me

Relationship: Elain x Lucien; Elucien

Rating: E, NSFW

Status: One-shot, ~11,000 words

Summary: Lucien arrives at the House of Wind, only to be drawn into a sparring match with none other than the Inner Circle's own Shadowsinger. Things get out of hand and Azriel discovers whether he really can defeat Lucien easily.

READ ON AO3

A/N: This one-shot has been turning around in my head for a long time now. Was I heavily inspired to take a stab at this after watching Dune Part Two? Absolutely. Was I also motivated because I'm tired of this fandom thinking that Azriel actually could take on Lucien in a fight. You betcha. Hence, this idea was born.

Please read the tags. You have been warned. If you are a big Azriel fan, this fic is probably not for you. So read at your own risk. This one is for my lovely underdog, Lucien, and all the Lucien girlies who know what's up.

Sneak peak under the cut

“You didn't think we’d end there, did you?" Azriel bounced on his toes. “We need to show Nesta how the Autumn Court fighting style handles hand-to-hand combat."

His words almost sounded helpful, but all Lucien could hear in his tone was pure aggression.

Lucien shook his head. This was too far for him. He didn’t want anything to do with this. It reminded him of the games that his brothers used to play in Autumn. Azriel was clearly trying to goad him, if not into a real fight, close enough to one to humiliate him in some way.

“I don’t think so. The point was made. Nesta has seen what she needs to for now.” He threw his sparring sword to the side, turning his back to Azriel to exit the ring.

“I knew you were a coward,” Azriel called out to him.

Lucien froze, his shoulders raising as his rage crawled up his spine. He could see the faces of the others, their eyes widening at Azriel’s taunt. Elain’s face especially looked confused and apprehensive. She flicked her gaze to him, and it hurt him to see the worry in her delicate features.

Lucien rolled his shoulders before he turned to face Azriel again. If the Shadowsinger wanted a war with words, Lucien would happily oblige him.

“Coward? Interesting. I didn’t see you jumping to volunteer to go to the continent when we were at war.”

“You’re right. Instead, I was here. Saving your mate from Hybern.”

Lucien instinctually balled his fists. It was a weak spot, and Azriel knew it. As soon as Lucien heard what happened to Elain when he was on the continent, he immediately regretted leaving her. It prompted him to hang out in Velaris those first few months after the war, before it all became too unbearable, and it was clear Elain was safe.

“I never did thank you for that,” Lucien replied, schooling his features. Never let them see how their words affect you. It was a lesson he learned long ago. “So, thank you, Azriel, for keeping Elain safe.”

“My pleasure,” Azriel darkened his eyes. “It’s a good thing I was around. I’ve always been here for her.”