#thank you for throwing this idea my way <3 i will add it to my very long idea list

[tender-rosiey]

smack, smack — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: special thanks to the beautiful @stinkyme for inspiring me to actually write this and for fangirling over the idea with me <3

gojo satoru, like any dad, got his fair share of ‘bullying’ from his daughter, his 5 months old baby.

some dads get peed on, others get their hair pulled, and others get their nose bitten on the daily. it's a little something to make them suffer a bit like the mothers had to during the pregnancy.

your husband, however, is always getting smacked in the face whenever he has his blindfold on, and I mean harshly smacked in the face and unforgiving scratching.

the first time it happened was when he was going to school. he was ready, uniform on and everything, but he simply had to say goodbye to his two girls.

skipping to your shared bedroom, he placed two big smooches on your face. then, after much of pulling him off you, he went to smooch his little girl. a big unmatched grin was on his face as he looked down at her in her crib.

he picked her up, cooing softly at her, “what a pretty girl, just as pretty as your mama, huh?”

satoru then laid her gently against his chest and started rocking her softly, while humming. after a while, he felt her stir a little in his arms. she sleepily looks up at him, and he smiles down at her, “good morning, baby—“

now, your daughter was used to seeing her dad without the blindfold. she was used to getting met by her dad's bright blue eyes.

so when a strange unknown man was holding her up instead of her papa, she started wailing and screaming, repeatedly smacking him in the face.

whenever her little—strong—hand landed on the blindfold, she would try to pull it off with all her baby might. you scrambled out of your bed at the loud screeches and screams of both your husband and your daughter.

you saw how satoru was desperately trying to, as gently as possible, make her release her grip. you stumbled on your words, before yelling, “your blindfold! take off your blindfold off!”

“I! am! trying!” he yelps as she continues slapping the hell out of his face.

you hurry and take his blindfold off, swiftly throwing it to the side. he started rocking her, smiling despite the red marks and scratches all over his handsome face, “it’s me, daddy! you see me?”

almost magically, your daughter calmed down in an instant with the occasional hiccup from her previous crying. he smiled, “there you go; that’s my girl.”

she gently made grabby hands at him, and he quickly pulled her back into his chest. your daughter instantly snuggled into his shoulder and hid her face in his neck.

you stared at him for a moment, “well, at least we know that she bloody hates that blindfold.”

it honestly kind of adds up.

you remember the many times that your daughter was generally distressed or fussy and instantly calmed down when she saw her dad’s eyes. you also remember that one time your daughter was actually zoning out while looking at satoru’s eyes, her own safe place.

satoru chuckles with a shrug, “I have you as my savior, anyway.”

“you can’t always count on me to be the one to save you from our daughter’s monstrously strong grip.”

and he can’t.

no one is brave enough to try and to fight back a baby, let alone the strongest sorcerer’s baby.

that attack happens way more than satoru would like. for example, whenever you’re busy, he takes his little princess to the school with him. in general, everyone helps in taking care of the little angel (devil in some cases).

however, god forbid she sees satoru coming back from a mission with his blindfold on.

it took some time for your husband to learn his lesson and immediately take his blindfold off before he entered the school. until then, he was prone to his daughter’s crazy strong hand smacking his face till his entire face is painted red and not the cute kind.

satoru never believed in his students to save him, except for yuuji. the first time it happened around the students, most of them were either laughing or speechless.

yuuji did try to save his sensei from his smacking machine of a daughter, but ended up getting smacked himself.

your husband did hope that, maybe, nanami’s heart would soften, and he would finally help him.

nanami’s heart did soften, just not for satoru. instead, your daughter now has a special soft spot in nanami’s heart, as he did in hers, but that isn’t our topic for today.

the amount of times you would enter the room to find nanami chuckling or smiling at your husband getting beaten to a pulp by your baby. satoru could be sobbing, “nanami, please! save me!”

and nanami would simply smile—sadistically—and hum, “I don’t think I will.”

you’re pretty sure that nanami believes this is god’s way of punishing your husband for all the mischief he caused.

ignoring that, it grips your heart how satoru’s face would brighten up the moment he saw you. he would run up to you, giving you the baby to calm her down while he gives his face a rest.

and your little girl was smiling and giving you her version of cheek kisses.

your husband recovered quickly though, and took her back, his blindfold finally off. he doesn’t do it without pecking your lips though, “my savior.”     

then he gets lost in his own world with his little girl, and their laughs and giggles filled the room. her hands were gently holding her dad’s face as she squeals, and satoru’s heart soars as he forgets about his beating from a moment ago.

now, that doesn’t mean that his dear students don’t make fun of him for always losing against his little girl. during one of the recent teasings, he simply huffed, “you never tried the grip of a baby! tell them, yuuji!”

yuuji shudders as he remembers how long the slap mark lasted, “she is one hell of a strong baby.”

it’s one thing for panda and nobara to laugh, it’s another for megumi and maki to do so as well. your husband’s ego simply couldn’t take it anymore. he took his baby in his arms and gathered the baby bags, sparing one last glance at his ‘bullies’.

and so your husband dramatically exits the room, “I need my wife! I can’t with you people anymore!”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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[choochooboss]

Sketch dump! Vol. 5

September 2022 (Part 1/2)

The first piece on top summarised my cosplay rush for Tracon 2022! The second is an old idea for a charm.

"SURPRISE!!"

Back in 2022 I hosted an art raffle for reaching 777 followers on Twitter! The winner would get their submas themed idea realised (which was their friends throwing a surprise party for the twins!). I wanted to make a little comic and have the bosses walk in their office where depot agents, Elesa, Drayden, Skyla, Clay etc. would be waiting with decorations and treats and games.

Emmet is all smiles of course while Ingo gets so emotional he could only whisper a "super bravo".

Not really headcanons anymore but still funny ideas.

1. Emmet gets clumsy when off-rhythm! He starts walking in curves if there is nobody else around to match his rhythm with.

2. Emmet spaces out/forgets to say things aloud when someone speaks too long or when things go off-script! His thinking gets interrupted easily.

3. Ingo sometimes bumps into doors because he is too used to automatic doors!

4. When things go off-script Ingo speaks too much and rushes in straight lines"

Also my little inexpensive sketchbook & my trusty tools! Mechanical pencil and eraser pen are life when scribbling my skrimblos smaller than a postage stamp!

More Ingo~ I utilise a wide range of sources for references, including CSP's poseable 3D models, they can come really handy with perspectives and proportions!

The second piece is my very first attempt at cosplay in Tracon 2022: Blingo! I walked in with a sequin hat, leather jacket, leather pants and high heel patent leather boots.

The hardest part of cosplaying Ingo is remembering NOT to smile ahaha!

Some hairstyle tests

I drew these for a huge submas art collaboration over Twitter hosted by @/mimizukeii!! It was technically my first art collab before I started arranging them myself with Aggie/Magma.

While looking for train related songs I found this cute nursery rhyme to go with the marching:

"Over the mountains,

Over the plains,

Over the rivers,

Here come the trains.

Carrying passengers,

Carrying mail,

Bringing their precious loads In without fail"

I wanted to compare these silly twins, planning to do something more silly with them later. Also a sketch of @/fukurow's butler designs I never finished.. The capes compliment them so well, I love them!!

Prequel to this piece! Emmet is so confident in himself he thinks Pierce wants to learn from him but is invited for a duet on the stage instead!!

Emmet has really great voice actors in Pokemas! I especially love how his english VA gives him that bri'ish/posh/sophisticated vibe while also soft and melodic! I know for SURE this VA/Emmet can sing, I can show you later!

One of my favourite sketches!! I wanted to add a bunch of characters in the BG reacting to this sonic blast of emotion over a performance!

Heyyy it's the smile buddies comic!! I really hope Ingo gets to interact with Marnie in Pokemas one day!!

I feel Ingo's eyes in the mirror panel is a little off in the final comic, I meant to keep it softer like in the sketch!

It's Nimbasa trio!! Idea inspired by submas EX uniform colors. Might continue this later!

Some BG tests for this piece! Compositing is hard but absolutely worth the effort, it can make a huge difference in the appeal of your piece!!

Practise piece drawing over a photo I thought was cool! I want to get more experimental with lighting and perspective!

'How's it hanging bro?' Who hung him up there anyway??

Sketch for this arguing scene! Something REALLY BAD needs to happen for them to end up that tense! Even if I want to present them close to the canon material I still want to put them in really challenging situations to see how far I can push their emotions!

Thank you so much for coming all the way down here!! This set was pretty loaded, I hope you enjoyed scrolling through all this ahah!

Previous posts:

Sketch dump Vol. 1: April-June 2022

Sketch dump Vol. 2: July 2022

Sketch dump Vol. 3: August 2022

Sketch dump Vol. 4: July 2022 Part 2

[sheep-from-rad]

Idea! Neglected bar singer darling.

The joint they sing in is on the very outskirts of Gotham. The bars in the basement of a restaurant.

Its pretty clear darling is saving up money to slowly inch away from Gotham and from there neglectful and sometimes (often) cold family.

So they dress as a Him/femme/them fatale and saunter up to the stage and sing there lil heart out and get both the thrill of all the attention in a room being on them and the money in there tip jar to boot.

Imagine what happens when a clip of darling singing goes fucking viral. (I'd like to think it's would be "be your baby tonight" give it a listen if you want. I like norah jones' cover)

What I'm saying is there is no way any of the batfam would approve of darlings career choice.

I love this kind of asks!~ Requests are now open again but we warned, I'm a snail paced writer T__T This took a while because I have this habit where I write it down first on paper before typing it. Like I make a draft first and reread before typing it to see if I should add more or remove some. First fic about singer reader: here and part 2 here. 😅

**DC characters belong to DC and I don't give permission to feed my writings to AI. Thank you**

Masterlist(Batfam)

Masterlist (All of my other fics)

divider by: @k1ssyoursister

Okay okay, here me out. I know you said secret bar under a restaurant but my brain read the word ‘bar’ and ran away with it 😭. 

You know what this smells like? Scandal and maybe even a disaster waiting to happen too. You know what's a famous bar in Gotham? The Iceberg lounge that is run by Mr. Cobblepot (Penguin) and  is frequented by rogues  such as Riddler. 

Life in the Iceberg Lounge isn't that bad, maybe intimidating at first but it became a small comfort. Mr. Cobblepot lets you keep the tips, the lounge beauties (Raven, Lark, and Jay) are great companies, and workplace harassment? You don't really have to worry about that. If you ever get flirted on or harassed by small fries and drunkards and then rest assured a bigger, scarier person at the back of the crowd will beat the harasser and throw them out. They might be villains but they have standards and harassing the lounge’s songbird is a big no no! 

The clip of the singer reader went viral for a ton of different reasons: (1) The singing and the amount of simps you raked 24 hours after the clip has been posted. I have a headcanon that Mr. Cobblepot will nickname you as either Nightingale or Songbird to fit the crew because the lounge beauties are nicknamed after birds.(2) People can see villains just chilling at the background of the video. Riddler's nursing a whiskey at the counter, Two face is playing chess with Penguin who is multitasking in helping mix some drinks. Hell, even Harley and Ivy are in the background having a moment with the strippers.

(3) Why is Bruce Wayne’s kid at the Iceberg lounge? I have a teeny tiny headcanon that even though the reader was neglected they are still forced to attend galas once or twice because Bruce won't and then it will be like a big media scandal. Also reader's public appearances with Bruce or with the other Wayne children might be low but they still have hundreds of followers. The Wayne name alone is basically a celebrity name because of Bruce being heavily revered by the public. Think of it like nepobaby shit. (4) That stage presence and sheer seductiveness. Being a Wayne, I'm sure the reader was taught etiquette by Alfred and was taught how to dress properly. They are also taught how to behave. However on that vid, you look like you were dressed by the Gotham sirens (Ivy, Harley, and Selena) themselves. All those good boy, good girl, good child stuff are out of the window. If the reader was just blending in the background before and the video is the opposite. It's almost commanding every viewer to look at them, pay attention to them, worship the very ground they walk on, and love them! At this point just expect simps. 

The family loves the video but at the same time they also hate it. They had their copies downloaded and saved and then they'll immediately task Barbara into scrubbing the video off of the internet but it's too late. The video has been re-uploaded to hundreds of different accounts and some  news outlets had already published articles about it. The articles ranged from sweet ones like praising the reader for their awesome stage performance and singing to downright insane clickbaits like ‘Bruce Wayne secretly allied with Gotham rogues?’ 

The whole thing is very stressful and I pray to the DC gods that Bruce Wayne is very healthy because this guy's blood pressure might as well go high up. Imagine trying so hard to keep up with the ditzy playboy public persona to hide your vigilante secret identity only for your kid to be filmed singing and being cozy at the Iceberg lounge. Not only that! You also placed yourself in danger too! It's not a secret that a lot of rouges knew Batman's real identity (Joker knows it, he just doesn't care. He's so cool for that). Sure they don't attack Batman when he's Bruce and sure they are a sweet pseudo-family to you right now but who's to say that they won't use you when push comes to shove? 

While Bruce deals with the media, Barbara and Tim work on the damage control and tracking every video, expect heavy guilt tripping and interference from Damian, Dick, and even Alfred (in his defense, he wants you safe and will only ask for you to get a better job or at least work in a place not frequented by villains). Dick will be actively poisoning the well. He'll make you sit down and read the crime archives with him (starting from the heaviest crime down to the pettiest crime) and will tell you stories about their encounters with each of them. Damian will try to keep you from getting to work and will try to keep you in your room if you haven't moved out of the estate. He'll ask you to go around with him, feed his pets with him and even asked you to watch him train (he doesn't know how bonding works, please be understanding). If you had left the estate and then expect him to show up and walk in your place like he owns it. He's one of those cats that you feed once and then suddenly shows up and won't leave you alone anymore. 

Oh, you still won't come home? You still wanna continue that dangerous job of yours? Pick your poison then. Do you want them to call Jason to get to the bar and take you home, knowing him some heads will sure go flying. Or do you want the family to stage a stakeout, infiltrate the bar, and capture and lock up all the villains forever. Go on, go choose. 

[mapis-putellas]

𝑨 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 5.5k

Warnings: Mentions of throwing up. Panic attacks. I think that’s it.

Summary: Your time at Barça comes to an end.

Notes: I tried to add a little more detail to my writing, so I hope it turned out somewhat decent <3

[prompt list]

A lot of people have told her what it was like to truly be in love. To feel that spark, that infatuation and instant connection that has you feeling weak at the knees. But Alexia hadn't truly known what love was until she'd met you. Like, true, fulfilling, genuine love that was both so exciting and terrifying it felt like falling off a cliff with no idea how high it is or what was at the bottom.

You came into her life unexpectedly, a ray of sunshine; always shining bright and radiating both warmth and happiness wherever you went. You make everyone around you feel good without even trying, a trait most people in this world lacked due to no fault of their own. Wherever she turned, you were there, the smile on your face so genuine it was hard not to smile back.

She doesn’t quite know how to put into words just how much she loves you, but if she has to try, it was like being on the brink of something extraordinary every single waking moment. You make her feel adored and valued on the days where she can't even stand herself. You make her feel cherished, important, like the ground beneath her wouldn't cave in at any second.

It was like a rollercoaster ride all of the time. Some days were both thrilling and exciting, and some days it was both dizzying and terrifying. Sometimes it was so overwhelming she doesn’t quite know what to do with herself. What was was sure of though is she wouldn't want to do any of it by herself. You were her everything, and she was yours, and she wasn't going to let anyone or anything get in the way of that. Including the fact you were moving half way across the country to join Arsenal.

It had been on the first of the month that you'd told her. You had been quiet and withdrawn for the entirety of the day, only responding to her futile attempts at conversation with quiet hums and one word answers.

Alexia hadn't quite known what to do when you'd exited the car with a quiet request for some space. You barely even give her a chance to respond, grabbing your things from the trunk before disappearing into the apartment building. Alexia had waited what she'd thought was a good amount of time before making her way inside too, footsteps hesitant and a deep sense of unease filling her stomach. The apartment door was closed, just as she'd thought it would be, and she does everything possible to swallow back the inevitable tightness in her throat as she unlocks the door and makes her way inside.

As she sets down her things, she realises everything was so unnervingly quiet she could hear the sound of her own breath. It was loud, quick, so clearly full of anticipation she pauses for a second to get herself together. It wasn't like her to be so unsure of herself, not when she was around you. Not in the comfort of her own home where it had taken months for her to fully accept the fact that no matter what mood she was in or how bad her day had gone you'd always welcome her inside with open arms.

Even when you'd had a bad day you were always willing to be around her. Your smile, whilst a little sad, still so genuine it made her thank whoever was above for bringing you into her life. Not only were you always willing to put everybody above yourself, you did so without consideration of your own feelings.

Perhaps that was why the sense of impending dread was unlike nothing she'd ever felt before, because not once in this relationship had you ever pushed her away. Been so quiet and so unwilling to talk.

Accepting your need for space, she walks past the closed bedroom door and makes her way through to the kitchen. She stands in the middle of the room for a few unsure seconds before deciding to make a start on dinner. If you won’t talk to her, the least she could do was feed you. You always love her cooking no matter what she makes, and she hopes the comfort of a home cooked meal would help ease whatever upset you were feeling.

In the bedroom, you were laid on Alexia's side of the bed, your body curled up small and your head buried into her pillow. It was soaked with tears, the material uncomfortably sticking to the skin of your cheek.

You didn’t think the word pain quite gives the way you were feeling justice. Oh no. It quite literally felt like someone had ripped your heart out of your chest before trampling all over it and shoving it back in. You were leaving Barcelona. Leaving Alexia. The word pain couldn't even begin to describe just how absolutely devastated you felt.

The second you had found out they weren't signing you for another season, it was as though everything around you had turned fuzzy, almost like the feeling you get when your leg falls asleep. An emptiness had suddenly filled you and it was so profound it made your chest physically ache. You hadn't heard a single world Jona after the fact. It was as though your world had stopped and in a way, it had. Your life in Barca, with Alexia, was no longer, and you only had your self to blame.

You should have been better. Scored more. Not gotten so many yellow cards. Done something, anything, so they would like you better and want you to stay. And maybe had they told you before the transfer window had closed, you could have at least tried to change their minds. But they hadn't. They'd kept it to themselves until the last possible second and because of that, there was now absolutely nothing you could do to change it.

You were leaving, and you had no idea just how you were going to tell Alexia without tearing your heart completely in two. You could hear her, if you really focused. The sound of ceramic dishes hitting the table and the soft thuds of her feet as she walks. She was cooking dinner, just as she does most nights after you get home from training if you don't opt to order in.

Most nights, you'd been in the kitchen with her. Sometimes sat on the counter and sometimes stood behind her holding her body to your own. You'd steal small morsels of food of whatever she'd decided to make that day and you'd pout playfully when she'd scold you for doing so. You could only imagine just how clueless she feels in there by herself, not knowing what was wrong or how to help. It makes a part of you want to go sit with her, just for the company, but the thought of seeing that beautiful, oblivious face, so unaware of the news you held simply made you want to crawl into a hole and die.

You can’t face her. Not yet. Not ever if given the choice but that simply wasn't an option. Telling her was inevitable, and you just had to accept the fact she might hate you for it despite it being completely out of your control.

You have no idea just how long you end up laying here for before you hear the sound of two gentle knocks against your bedroom door. They were barely audible, and you take that as an almost cruel opportunity to pretend you hadn't heard them. The door opens anyway, the sound of it creaking a deathly loud noise in comparison to the quietness of the room.

"Amor?" Her voice was a quiet, tentative whisper sounding so unsure it has you screwing your eyes so tightly shut in a futile effort to prevent anymore tears from falling. "Amor," the same soft footsteps you'd heard earlier make their way closer to the bed. "I made you dinner."

Silence.

Alexia softly clears her throat. "It is Pasta. Your favourite." She trails off hopefully, and it takes everything in you to remain still. You can’t face her. Not yet. You weren't ready.

Alexia wrings her hands nervously as she takes another small step closer to the bed. "I..." she hesitates, scratching the inside of her wrist. "I do not know what happened. Will you please talk to me?"

More silence, and you'd never hated yourself more.

"I do not know what to do" Her voice audibly trembles making the tightness in your throat physically impossible to swallow back. You could feel your resolve wavering. Just because you couldn't tell her what was wrong right this second didn't mean you can't let her sooth you, right?

"Bebé?"

With a deep, shuddering breath, you use every ounce of strength within you to sit yourself up and face her. She was standing just a few feet away from the bed, toes scrunching and un-scrunching anxiously against the carpet. Her hands were clasped tightly around her shirt, wrinkling the material as she squeezes and twists.

But what breaks your heart the most was the wetness staining her cheeks. She was crying. Crying because of you. Because you were too much of a wimp to simply tell her what was wrong. The guilt you were already feeling amplifies by a thousand, and you were forced look away from her before you well and truly broke.

"Amor?" She whispers unsurely, and you sniffle softly as you wipe your sweaty hands on your pants before taking a deep breath. It was a futile effort at composing yourself, but you simply had nothing else left in you.

"Will you-"

"I don't want to talk about it. Not yet. I can't." you cut her off, and Alexia swallows heavily before nodding her head. The overwhelming sense of dread that had once faded makes an abrupt reappearance at your words, but she tries desperately not to let it show. If she pushed, you'd push back harder, and she'd never figure out what was going on.

"Okay." She accepts in a quiet whisper, unwilling to do anything that might upset you further.

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. "Okay?"

She nods.

"Okay." You whisper with a quiet breath of relief.

"Will you come eat?" She asks hopefully after a few seconds of silence. "I made your favourite."

The thought of food alone made you feel so incredibly nauseous you were forced to swallow back a different kind of tightness in the back of your throat. It pains you to reject her again, but you just couldn't do it. Not without ending this already horrible day with your head stuck in the toilet.

You shake your head. "Ale, I'm not-”

"Just a few bites?" She pleads quietly, hesitantly. "For me?" She holds out her hand.

You look up at her. You take in her wet cheeks, the unsure body language and the trembling fingers. You'd put her through the wringer tonight without even trying, and it was clear to see she was desperate for some sort of normality. Despite everything in you screaming to say no, you find yourself standing up and taking her hand. You were barely on your feet for two seconds before she envelopes you completely in her arms, her chest flush against your own as your feet hang from the floor.

Your bottom lip wobbles as she buries her head against your neck, your head dropping to rest heavily against her shoulder. It takes you a few moments, but your arms do eventually find themselves wrapping securely around her shoulders. At the feeling of you returning the embrace, she drops an arm from around your waist and hooks it beneath your behind, bouncing you up slightly so your legs cold wrap around her waist.

"I am sorry." She whispers, the words taking a few moments to fully register in your grief ridden mind. The second they do, you lift your head off of her shoulder and reach your trembling hands up to coax her face away from your neck. You were glad to see she wasn't crying again, but you could tell by the shininess in her eyes that it was taking everything in her to hold the tears back.

"No," you shake your head, cupping her cheeks and wiping the pads of your thumbs to rid them of their wetness. Alexia blinks, and you catch the first tear that escapes before it could fall. "No," you repeat. "You don't have to be sorry. You've done absolutely nothing wrong. Nothing at all."

Alexia swallows.

"It's..." the tears you'd been trying to desperately to hold back break free, and you make no effort to wipe them away. "I'm not ready to talk yet, and I'm so, so sorry that means you're being kept in the dark. I just need...a few hours. Just a few hours to process and then we'll talk, okay? I promise."

Alexia looks even more terrified as her grip loosens just slightly. "Are you...are you bre-"

"No." You're aware of how panicked you sound, but you needed the message to get through to her before she could fully mistake her assumptions for the truth. "No. I'm not. Not now. Not ever. I could never...no."

Her grip tightens around you again, and you let out a relieved sounding sob as you fall limp against her. You feel one of her hands lift to rest against the back of your head, and for a second, you allow to yourself to break; for her to comfort you, because after hearing what you had to say, it could be the last time she ever does so.

Alexia doesn't think she's ever felt more useless in her entire life as she holds you close, her throat burning, threatening the onslaught of tears. Something serious was going on. There has to be. She's never seen you this upset before, not even when you'd done your acl just a few months after she'd done hers. You'd been upset then sure, but you'd never shed more than a single tear in the year it had taken to get back on the pitch, and that year had been hell for both of you.

Tightening her grip around you, she turns in place and makes her way through to the kitchen. The two plates of pasta were just as she'd left them, though she suspected they'd long gone cold now. Knowing you wouldn't be able to eat despite saying that you would try and not particularly caring about her own meal, she passes the kitchen table and makes her way over to one of the free spaces left on the countertop.

She purposely ignores the burning in her arms as she eases you down and settles herself between your legs, feeling the way your crossed feet settle against her backside as her arms secure themselves tightly around your back. You were still in her arms, thankfully no longer crying if the lack of tears against her neck was anything to go by. It allows Alexia to relax momentarily for she knows things would sure turn south once you reveal what was making you so upset.

You pull away a few moments later, sniffling softly as Alexia tenderly cups your cheeks to wipe away the wetness staining them. You lean into her touch, eyes fluttering shut when she leans in and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"I love you." She murmurs against the warm skin, and you're forced to once again swallow back your emotions as you take her wrists and press a soft kiss to the inside of them both.

"I love you." The unsteadiness of your voice was obvious, and you're grateful when Alexia makes no attempt at pointing it out. She leans in and kisses you, tasting the saltiness of your tears, and your hands desperately cup her face, not allowing her to pull away. Alexia's hands grasp your sides as she deepens the kiss just slightly, feeling the soft exhale you breath out through your nose against her skin. When you pull away, your eyes were closed, and Alexia takes this as her chance to really take you in.

Your expression gives absolutely nothing away. Nothing at all. Her gaze was still on you when your eyes finally open, brown irises full of an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. You tilt your head to the side, a silent question to which she nods in response to. Seconds later, the look in her eyes changes. Now, they were light, hopeful, willing for you to open up and trust her and god did you so badly want to.

"I am going to make you a smoothie." She breaks the silence, her hands giving your thighs a soothing squeeze as she steps out of your hold and makes her way over to your refrigerator. You watch her retreating figure as you let out a soft sigh. You still didn’t think you could stomach anything, but the thought of a smoothie was admittedly more appetising than cold pasta. You felt a little bad that the meal she’d cooked you had gone to waste, but seeing as though Alexia doesn't mind, you try not to either.

Alexia's eyes skim the contents for a few moments before she pulls out a few different fruits she knew were your favourite. She sets them down onto the counter next to you before heading to the sink and thoroughly washing her hands, allowing the water to run a little hotter than appropriate in a futile effort at feeling something other than complete and utter dread.

It doesn't work, and as she dries her hands, she wonders just how much longer she would be able to last before she inevitably breaks and begs for you to tell her what was going on. When she'd torn her acl, the fear she'd felt about not being able to play the sport she loved more than anything else in this world pained her more than she could even begin to explain. But the fear of losing you was a tenfold to that. Because yes, football was her world, but you were her entire universe so feeling this dread, this uncertainty and uneasiness was so, so much worse.

Softly clearing her throat, she forces a smile into her face and makes her way back over to you. You were in the exact same position, though now you were staring at her with pity. It makes her bristle just slightly, but she forces herself not to react as she grabs the blender out of the cupboard and plugs it into the wall.

The process of making both smoothies was done in silence. Alexia doesn't say a word, and neither do you. Soon, Alexia was back between your legs, a small glass in her hand that held the contents of your smoothie. You don't let yourself hesitate as you gently take it from her, bringing it to your lips for cautious sip. When it doesn't seem as though your stomach would reject it, you allow yourself a proper mouthful, a hum of content falling from your lips as you swallow.

"Good?" Alexia murmurs as her hands retake their place on each of your thighs, squeezing the flesh softly before her palms begin tracing gentle circles against the soft skin. You nod your head, holding the glass up to her lips despite the fact she had her own smoothie just next to you. The blonde smiles as she allows you to feed her, swallowing with a hum of content similar to your own.

You take turns in sipping both the smoothies until they were gone, Alexia setting the glasses into the sink to be washed later before scooping you back up into her arms. You welcome the closeness by allowing her to carry you through to the living room without complaint, her larger frame beneath your own as she settles comfortably on the couch. She says nothing as she slips her hands beneath your shirt to rest on the small of your back, the tips of her pinkies tracing over the dimples at the bottom of your spine, but you can tell by the look in her eyes alone that there was so much she wants to say.

It had barely even been an hour since she'd brought you out of your room, and whilst you still weren't ready to talk, you knew leaving her in the dark for any longer would be unnecessarily cruel. Unsure on whether or not she'd even want you near her when you found the courage to reveal the news, you slip off of her lap and perch on the edge of the coffee table instead, making a futile effort at avoiding eye contact as you wipe your suddenly sweaty hands off on your shorts.

You hear Alexia shift forward slightly until her knees brush against your own, her hands reaching forward to rest on either of your thighs. Your own hands circle her wrists, feeling the steady, consistent pounding of her pulse beneath the tips of your fingers. She doesn't force you to talk. She simply sits and waits, her presence alone a major comfort in a moment so anxiety inducing you felt as though you were only seconds away from throwing up.

A single drop of grief wells up in the corner of your eye as you swallow heavily, the small droplet of salty water streaming down your cheek leaving a tickling sensation in its wake. The blonde opposite you remains silent, but her hands slip down to the skin behind your knees, tugging them a little firmer against her own. Knowing it was now or never, you force yourself to make eye contact.

"I'm leaving Barça." Your voice was emotionless.

Alexia blinks as her hands freeze mid stroke against your thighs. "Qué?”

You swallow. "They didn't resign me for another season. I'm moving to Arsenal." The words felt like vomit on your tongue.

Alexia could do no more than stare as she feels the room begin to tilt around her, every sound becoming no more than a muffled echo. Her heart feels as though it had gotten stuck, each beat a sharp jab against her chest. Her mouth parts, but no words seem to be able to escape. She simply sits. Frozen. Like her entire body had forgotten how to move.

Your hands tighten around her wrists as the world around you blurs with the onslaught of tears. "I'm sorry," you choke out. "They only told me today and I...I don't want to go. I don't want to leave you." Panic gnaws at the edges of your mind when Alexia remains silent. "Say something. Please." The desperation in your voice was evident.

Alexia shakes her head as if trying to shake off the reality that was suddenly crashing down around her, her hands lifting off of your thighs and visibly trembling. She clenches them into tight fists, a futile effort for control as her gaze darts unsteadily around the room.

"I..." she has no idea what to say.

“Alexia?” You plead.

Nothing.

You feel an overwhelming urge to flee beginning to fester in the back of your mind as your hands tightly clutch the material of your sweater. Alexia's knees were still pinned on either side of your own, halting your inevitable escape. You were trapped by her, both physically and emotionally, and the longer she remains silent, the more your panic begins to build.

Your leg begins to bounce on its own accord; your heart races and it feels as though you weren't getting enough air into your lungs. A spiral of panicked thoughts keep repeating themselves, becoming more and more insistent as the minutes pass. Alexia hates you. Alexia was going to leave you. Oh god. Nausea swirls in your gut. You can't breath. Are you dying? You're dying. You have to be dying. Why can't you breath? Panicked eyes search the room for an exit. The front door. The back door. Which was closer? You didn't know. But you had to get out. You had to go.

A gentle, unsteady hand cupping your cheek startles you, and your head whips round so quickly you almost give yourself whiplash. Alexia was staring at you, eyes wide in alarm. Her lips were moving. But you couldn't hear her voice. Couldn't make out what she was saying. Why couldn't you hear what she was saying?

You feel your body move, steady hands beneath your armpits. They support the entirety of your weight as you were lifted slightly into the air. Strong, familiar thighs were soon beneath your own, your heaving chest pressed flush against Alexia's. She wraps her arms so tightly around your midsection you have no choice but to mimic her breaths. They were steady, consistent. You choke out a pathetic sounding sob as your heart continues to pound, your body unintentionally fighting her own.

But her grasp was tight. So tight you could feel nothing but her. She begins to rock. Back and forth. Back and forth. The motion was steady. Repetitive. You feel your chest loosen. Just slightly. Enough for you to breath. To get some much needed air into your lungs. The white noise in your ears begins to fade. You could hear again. Alexia was talking. In Spanish. You couldn't really understand what she was saying. But her tone was soft. Soothing. Warm. The pounding in your heart slows, and you can breath again.

You no longer felt like you were dying. Everything was quiet. Calm.

Alexia's body stills as your desperate grasp around her shirt loosens, your head falling heavily against her shoulder. Her lips press against your neck, dotting gentle kisses over the soft expanse of warm skin. You shudder a little at the sensation as you hunch your shoulders up to your ears, hearing Alexia huff out a quiet sound of amusement as she halts her affectionate attack. You feel her hands rest on each of your hips, squeezing softly before easing you away from her. When your eyes meet her own, you could clearly tell she'd been crying.

And Alexia had been.

It had taken a little while to gather her thoughts -and to get over the curveball that had been thrown her way- but eventually, Alexia had come to the quite obvious realisation that just because you wouldn’t be in the same country anymore didn’t mean your relationship was over. Long distance sucks, but it was possible, and there were many cases where it had been quite successful. Take Ona’s girlfriend, Lucy, for example. Lucy had left Barça nearly four months ago, and both she and Ona were closer than ever. Yes, being apart would be difficult. She was fully aware of that fact. But doesn’t the saying go, distance makes the heart grow fonder?

"That was a bad one, huh?" She murmurs as she presses her forehead against her own, and you could do no more than nod. Panic attacks weren't uncommon for you, but rarely does it get to the point where Alexia has to intervene anymore thanks to years of therapy. You'd learnt to anticipate the usual warning signs allowing you to talk yourself out of one before it could even begin, but that evidently hadn't been the case today for obvious reasons.

"Was it because of me?" Her hands cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the wetness beneath your eyes. Her touch was so gentle you could barely feel it.

You shrug noncommittally as you harshly wipe off your cheeks. "Not really."

"Not really?" She raises an eyebrow, and you sigh lightly as you tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear.

"I just..." you trail off. "I guess I just panicked. You wouldn't answer me and my mind just jumped to the worst case scenario." You admit, hating the fact you were once again so close to tears.

Alexia's eyebrows furrow in confusion as she loops her arms around your waist. "What do you mean?"

"I told you...I told you I was leaving, and you didn't say anything. My mind jumped to the conclusion that that was because you hated me and never wanted to see me again." Voicing your thoughts out loud made them sound stupid, and you worry now that maybe you'd majorly overreacted.

Alexia doesn't seem to have the same concern.

"Amor, you really think that little of me?" She sounds more hurt than she does mad, and the guilt hits you like a punch in the stomach. You immediately shake your head as you attempt to amend the situation.

"Of course not," you insist. "But I panicked. As I said, worst case scenario.”

Alexia releases her hold on you for a short second as she rubs her hands over her face.

You can't help but frown. "Ale, I'm so-"

Alexia cuts you off cupping your cheeks and kissing you fiercely. It quite literally takes your breath away, and you have absolutely no time to reciprocate before she was pulling away.

"I love you," your mouth parts to say it back, but Alexia shakes her head, resting her pointer finger against your lips. You gently kiss the digit, lips quirking up into a small smile when Alexia plainly pokes your nose.  "I love you, and whilst I am so incredibly sad you are going to be leaving, it is not forever. I will visit you, you will visit me.”

"But it won't be the same." Your voice was a broken whisper.

Alexia clears her throat softly as her eyes grow shiny with tears. "I know," she murmurs, taking both your hands in her own and squeezing softly. "But we will get through this, sí? You are strong, and I am strong. We will be strong together until we are no longer apart."

"Strong together." you mimic, and Alexia nods with a sad smile on her face. You attempt to mimic that too, but you find it difficult to do thanks to the way your bottom lip was trembling. The first tear falls before you could stop it, and Alexia blows out a shaky breath as she pulls you back into her arms.

Yeah, this was going to suck.

*

So yeah. Alexia loves you so terrifyingly much that she was willing to risk your relationship by being approximately nine hundred and twenty nine miles apart. You had faith you would be just fine, but a small part of you, way way deep down was sure it would end up crashing and burning right in front of your eyes. Long distance relationships were hard, and yes, you loved each other, but would that really be enough in the long run? Would love really be enough to survive who knows how many years apart with only the occasional visit until your contract at Arsenal ended?

You'd voiced your worries to Alexia who had been quick to assure you that whilst your fears were valid, they were wrong. That it was just your brain, again, jumping to the worst case scenario because you were anxious about leaving. She'd assured you that love was most definitely enough, so long as you communicated with one another which was something you were both thankfully pretty damned good at.

From that moment forward, you make the most of what time you have left together. You go on dates that last all day, visiting all the places in Barcelona you’d fallen in love with. You spend hours in bed, skin against skin as your favourite movie plays in the background. You even make the drive over to Alexia’s childhood home and spend the day with her family as one final farewell.

Your team was told about your transfer just two weeks before you leave, tearful hugs being shared with the ones you were most close to. Mapi had all but clung to you throughout the entirety of your last training session, Ingrid having to coax her into letting go when it was time to head back home.

You play your last game a few days later, playing the entire ninety minutes and scoring three goals with the assistance of Aitana. When the whistle had blown, your entire team had surrounded you, murmuring their praises and pulling you into hugs so tight you struggled to catch your breath. You tightly clutch the crest on your chest as your eyes skim around the arena, meeting the tearful yet smiling faces of the fans who were cheering so loudly for you it was the only sound you could hear.

This was it. Your time at Barça was over, and what a ride it had been.

**

Tags:

@codiemarin @goldenempyrean @girlgenius1111 @ceesimz @liloandstitchstan @xxnaiaxx @marysfics @alexias-putellas

[hawkepockets]

actually. 🫷😀🫸 THOUGHTS ON AVELINE

i think aveline is a CORE da2 character, and her relationship with hawke is super super interesting. she’s hawke’s oldest friend in the game & by act 3, maybe the only enduring connection to their homeland & childhood besides the mabari. her voice, her bearing, her stated values are all very noble & movingly fereldan—but her actions both as guard captain & as a party member should be so profoundly disappointing to hawke almost no matter how you play them, which generates a powerful tension. imo it’s really poignant and adds a lot to the game’s central tragedy.

because how can hawke cut her off! but look at how she behaves: ignoring the serial killing & sexual assault of isolated older women and elf girls, baiting the arishok, slut shaming isabela, condescending to merrill. but how can they cut her off? the question is a privilege and a torment!

in this way i think she strikingly complements gamlen. like no matter what gamlen does and says to you, your love interest, leandra, the surviving hawke twin—he’s family and the only way into kirkwall. hawke is not permitted to sever those ties. and no matter what aveline does and says to you and all the women in your party, she remains your oldest friend and the only way back to ferelden, emotionally.

both aveline & gamlen will maintain a warm relationship with hawke as long as hawke tolerates their picking on those in proximity to hawke—but if hawke pushes back with aggressive dialogue options, both will tone match and became sour and hostile. aveline can be really quite awful to a red hawke, and will throw them to the ground and beat them at 100% rivalry. so there’s kind of an underlying challenge in both of these characters: how much will hawke, as gang leader & player character, put up with when it’s not directed at them?

of course, for all the nostalgia that seems to occlude av’s wrongdoings in kirkwall, she’s not really a childhood friend of hawke’s. she was a grown woman when they met, lothering was lost, and the moment was pretty heated thanks to aveline’s hostile templar husband.

and yet hawke is no more reliable & objective in their treatment of the past than varric is. and aveline is what they have! she’s standing in for all of ferelden, all of the past before the blight!

and likewise hawke for her! hawke is the only one left in act 3 who remembers wesley! aveline is the only one who remembers the dead hawke twin!

and as reprehensible as some of her decisions are, aveline’s grief for wesley and her enmity toward the old corrupt guard captain are sympathetic and her voice is sexy and husky and beautiful enough that. well im sorry i just lost the plot for a minute. uh

there’s also the act 3 subplot of the templars trying to take over the city guard, which sets up aveline as the only thing standing between kirkwall’s mages & absolute templar authority in the city. it’s literally her or cullen at his most brainwashed & violent. (to cullen’s credit he also thought it was a bad idea. but i won’t give him so much credit that i believe he’d turn down the position if aveline was removed.) between a knight-commander and a hard place, a pro-mage hawke has to choose the hard place.

so both of my playthroughs i’ve felt like hawke’s friendship with her is at the very least strained, if not completely ruptured, but they have to back her. how much that feels like fucking sandpaper may vary from hawke to hawke.

ultimately i just think she brings a lot to the table. i don’t necessarily understand why she’d be anyone’s all time #1 favorite companion, but you know.

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely!! if you're comfortable writing something like this, could I maybe request poly!marauders where reader who is normally very independent but gets submissive at times, but not in a sexual way? like she just gets overwhelmed and wants the boys to be in charge for a while, but maybe the relationship is still new and she feels too needy and can't bring herself to tell them and eventually they realize?

again, no worries if you're not comfortable writing this, just thought I'd ask <3

Thank you for requesting gorgeous !

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“This is deeply, atrociously unjust,” Sirius says as James sits down in front of you, him on the floor and you on the couch. He’s wet and fresh-smelling from the shower. “You never let me do your hair.” 

“Because you always act like you’re trying to tear it out as some sort of twisted revenge plot,” says James, passing you a brush and the curl cream you and Sirius had found for him. Normally, you adore this routine, the chance to run your fingers through James’ hair and the way his eyes close blissfully while you do it. You love to pamper him. But tonight you’re not really in the mood. You do it because he expects you to, coating his curls in product with your usual tenderness but wishing you were on the receiving end of it instead. “She’s got the touch of an angel.” 

Sirius crosses his arms. He’s leaned against the side of the couch, leering over you like a vulture. Remus is reading in the armchair, and though he’s pretending to ignore all of you, the corner of his mouth tilts up. 

“Beauty is pain,” Sirius grouses.

“We should start a hair train,” James decides. “She’ll do mine, you can do hers, Remus will do yours, and I’ll do his.” 

Sirius seems to be considering this. You lean down towards James’ ear. “You’re throwing me to the wolves,” you stage-whisper. 

“It’s you or me, sweetheart.” 

Actually, the idea of Sirius playing with your hair—even at the risk of losing a good amount of it—doesn’t sound so awful. 

“I can get in the shower right now,” you offer, only half joking. 

Sirius lets a grin slip loose, sitting next to you to plant a smacker on your cheek. “Thank you, darling, but that’s alright. You shouldn’t have to atone for his mistakes.” 

You return his smile, doing your best to bury your disappointment.

“I didn’t consent to the hair train either,” Remus says without looking up from his book. “There’s a reason James doesn’t do his own hair.” 

“Oi,” James objects. “I’ve got admirers fighting over the opportunity to do my hair, why would I do it myself?” 

Remus marks his page, flipping the book closed. “What are we having for dinner?” he asks. 

“I don’t know, but I’m famished.” James doesn’t miss a beat, latching onto the new topic eagerly. “We could order takeaway?” 

“Or just cut out the middleman and go out,” Sirius says. “Unless someone feels like cooking? Which I don’t.” 

“We know,” Remus teases. “I don’t either, not tonight.” 

“I could if I needed to,” James says, “but I’m alright with whatever gets food in me the fastest.” 

They all look to you. “I don’t much feel like cooking,” you add your piece. Your voice comes out quieter than you’d intended.

“Alright,” Remus says. “Then let’s not cook tonight. What do you want to do, love? Go out or stay in?” 

You comb the brush slowly through James’ hair, twisting to define his curls. “I don’t know,” you say. 

Sirius turns to you, frowning. “Come on, baby.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “What do you feel like having?” 

“I don’t know.” You try not to sigh. “Um, can you pick?”

You don’t look up from the top of James’ head, but you can feel them exchanging looks. They’ve all been a little extra gentle with you lately. They know you’re dealing with a lot. Anytime you try to tally it all up and make sense of it in your head, you start feeling like you could cry. Your exhaustion has sunk so deeply within you that it’s seeped into your bloodstream. You think by now there’s got to be traces of it in the marrow of your bones. 

“Hey,” Sirius says softly. “Look at me.” 

You do, pausing with the brush held aloft over James’ head. He’s got his eyebrows drawn together like he’s trying to figure you out. “I’m sorry,” you say. It’s not your boyfriends’ faults that you’re feeling overwhelmed; you don’t mean to drag them down with you. 

“What for, sweetness?” He sets a hand on your thigh, rings biting into your skin as he gives the flesh a loving squeeze. “Just tell us what you need.” 

You try to give him a smile. You really do love him. “I want…I don’t know, I guess I’m just tired. I want to not think for a little while.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows come up a bit in the middle, and James turns around from below you. 

“Aw, sweetheart.” His tone is as gooey and sweet as raw honey. “Do you just want us to take care of you, angel?” He sets his hands on your knees, pushing himself up to kiss your chin. “You should’ve said something.” 

“We can stay in,” Remus suggests whilst James worms his way underneath you, getting you in his lap. “Order takeaway from that Thai place you like.” 

“That sounds nice,” you say meekly, face growing warm. James presses rapid-fire kisses to your cheek. One-two-three. 

“You wanna have a shower, baby?” Sirius asks you. He looks heart-wrenchingly concerned. It’s not like you to want to give away control like this. “I could do your hair when you get out.” 

“Don’t do it,” James cautions you. “He steals our hair to make tiny dolls of us, I’m sure of it.” 

Sirius sends him a withering look. “I’ll be gentle.” 

“I’d like that,” you tell Sirius, and he softens. 

“Yeah?” He brushes a piece of hair away from your face and presses his hand to your cheek. Squishy fond. “Okay, baby, we’ll pamper you to hell and back.” 

“I’m going to find the menu for takeaway,” Remus says, prying himself up from his chair. 

“James,” Sirius says, not particularly kindly, “you will have to let her go for her to shower.” 

“Never. Not on my life. Not at gunpoint.” You shrink as James makes his face at home in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nose nudging at a ticklish spot. “She’s my darling sweetheart angel.” 

“She’s our darling sweetheart angel,” Remus corrects him from the kitchen. You think your face could melt titanium. 

“James, please,” you complain. “I’m never telling you all anything again.”

“Careful.” Sirius raises an eyebrow at you, mock stern. “That sounded dangerously close to a thought, and those won’t be allowed until at least tomorrow morning.”

[ozzgin]

Sorry to bother you, but the bodyguard post you did was just 🤤🥰😍 and I can't stop thinking about it day later

Have you ever seen Oshi no Ko? I'd love to see Bodyguard react to someone trying to do something similar as what happened to Ai.

Fans get wind their beloved idol might have feeling for her staff, so a crazed fan tracks down her private address. He plans to get revenge for "His idol cheating on him" but doesn't know there is a guard dog inside ready to bite any threat to his precious charge.

Sorry to keep ragging on about the topic, I just adore you work enough that it lives in my head rent free.

Happy holidays

-🌟

I sadly haven't seen Oshi no Ko, but your description sounds very interesting. Thank you for the idea! I've combined it with your previous suggestion, I think they work together really well. Happy Holidays to you, too! :)

Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (II)

Your new manager has sent you home for the holidays after persistent rumors surrounding you and your bodyguard. And, as luck would have it, the fan responsible for the accusations successfully sneaks his way in. Sadly for him, you’ve never left the watchful gaze of your loyal, mean dog.

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

TW: violence, threats, mentions of stalking

(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)

"Enjoy your holidays!" 

The driver cheerfully bids you goodbye and speeds away, leaving you behind the imposing gate. You drag your luggage inside and nonchalantly toss it with an annoyed huff.

What now? You're all alone in a hollow mansion. 

Early December you begun receiving worrying letters from a fan, making wild claims about you and your bodyguard. Naturally, you laughed it off. Your bodyguard found them equally amusing. So much, that he'd ask you to read them out loud as you rode him. "I w-won't stand for it. You know we ha-ave something special going on, (Y/N)-chan." You barely managed to form coherent sentences, feverishly clinging to the large man underneath you. "You heard the guy. Better be on your best behavior", he'd add with a chuckle, wiping the drool from your mouth. 

The new manager, however, wasn't as relaxed about it. He couldn't risk tarnishing the reputation of his beloved cash cow, so he suggested you take a break from personal assistants until the rumors tone down. If you remained within your expensively secured house, you wouldn't need any guarding. So, he caringly prescribed a dose of homely isolation for the upcoming holidays. 

"Don't be so dramatic", he said, "Jesus spent 40 days in the desert by himself. And he didn't have your indoor cinema or jacuzzi bathtub."

"Yeah, but he had the Devil to tempt him. Where's my bad guy?" You whined as a retort. 

You let out another groan and throw yourself on the couch, fiddling with the remote. Kind of them to decorate everything for Christmas, you think as you eye the gigantic kitsch of a tree slapped in the middle of the living room. 

Fuck. What an absolute waste of time. All because of one crazy fan. You almost wish he'd show his stupid face so your bodyguard could pummel it to bits and crumbles. You wonder what he's doing by himself. Is he going to be assigned to another idol? Probably not, two weeks is too short of a time for anything. You check your phone.

Suddenly, the screen lights up. A text notification. 

"Bored?"

Heh. It's almost as if he can read your mind. You smile to yourself and type your response, stretching onto the sofa. Your little back and forth messaging goes on until you look up and notice the room has gotten darker. Already evening. You can hear your stomach growl, so you get up and drag your feet towards the kitchen, searching for takeaway fliers. If you're going to be under house arrest, the least you can afford is junk food. 

Once you place your decadent order, you hop onto the counter and idly dangle your legs in anticipation. Your favorite off-duty guard dog has abruptly told you he needs to go and is now offline. "Something came up". What could possibly require his immediate attention? A mistress? You giggle at the idea. In all your time spent together, you haven't seen him glance at a single woman. If he must, he will engage with other people using one-word replies, visibly uninterested. You never considered him much of a talker, but his behavior with anyone else, in comparison, is downright hostile. 

There's a rustling sound and you jolt. Was the food delivered already? It hasn't been that long. You jump off the marble countertop and freeze in place once you see the man standing in the doorway. His face is concealed with a medical mask and he's audibly panting, the hot air fogging up his glasses. You notice the knife in his hand.

"How rude of you to cheat on me so shamelessly, (Y/N) dear."

Huh? Your eyes widen in realization. Was this the crazed fan bombarding you with threatening letters? Your features twist in utter disgust, still transfixed on the weapon within his grip. 

This little shit. Not only does he break into your home, but he decides to intimidate you with a department store kitchen utensil. Is that all you're worth? Is that any way to greet one of the top idols in this country?

You angrily pull the nearby drawer open and grab a long, sharp blade. The man tenses up and steps forward, but you stop him in his tracks, throwing the item at his feet. He stares at you, bewildered. 

"It's a Yoshihiro Sashimi knife. More than your monthly income, most likely." You state as you leer down at him, grimace plastered on your face. "Pick it up like the animal you are."

He cannot move. Is this his beloved (Y/N)? Her pretty, innocent smile and sparkling eyes have been replaced by this hateful scowl. He feels like a cockroach about to be stepped on, a mere vermin invading her personal space. This can't be right. It's him that should be upset, he's the betrayed party. When has she gotten so...Ah. This must be the work of that bodyguard. He's always known. The way he looks at her, with a predatory glint as if marking his territory. He should've noticed earlier. Poor, sweet (Y/N), at the hands of a brute. Tears form in his eyes and he opens his mouth to speak up, but a burning blow assaults his back and everything goes black. 

Your bodyguard casually walks in and lifts the intruder up by the nape of his neck. 

"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"

You blush and wipe your eyelashes dramatically, releasing a gentle sob from your puckered lips.

"Touch? He almost killed me! I was so scared...I thought I was done for."

He frowns at your words.

"I'll take care of it."

You can feel the familiar knot forming in your stomach. As he drags the body out of the kitchen, you follow behind enthusiastically. 

"Do it in the living room!" You almost squeal.

"Are you sure? It will get messy. I'm not letting this one walk out." He warns you with a worried expression. 

"Yes, yes!" you nod, all bubbly. "Right here, next to the Christmas tree."

Once the gory spectacle is over, the bodyguard sprawls onto the sofa, exhausted. He exhales loudly and runs a hand through his hair. You are about to join him, when a thought crosses your mind. 

"Now that I think about it, how did you know I was about to be attacked? That was some really extraordinary timing."

Out of reflex, he palms his pocket to check if his phone is still within his possession. Thankfully he hasn't left it in plain sight. You squint suspiciously. 

"Are you spying on me or something?"

He remains quiet for a few moments and eventually lowers his head apologetically, avoiding eye contact.

"Forgive me, Miss."

When he glances up again, your small figure is looming over him.

"Wow, what a pervert you are." You push his chin up with your dainty fingers. "How will you make it up to me for such nasty habit~?"

"Is there anything you want me to do?"

"Good boy."

[gghostwriter]

hi dear author! how are you?

I have a request for Spencer where reader has a head injury and passes out and Spencer's reaction to it and the aftermath. I found your fic around 15 mins ago and I'm in love with them<3

Thank you!!

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies A/N: I’m sensing a pattern with the request writing I’m doing—most of them deal with a head injury of some sort but I am having fun trying to make it different the the earlier works. No further editing was done but I hope you enjoy it! Main masterlist

Bundle of Nerves. // Spencer Reid

The bright and playful disposition of your kindergarten students was one of things you looked forward to every Monday. How each student would go up to you to chatter about how their weekend went—family went to the park or to the library or to the beach—and how in return, they’ll ask if you also enjoyed the weekend as much as they did. 

But something seemed off today, you really couldn’t specify where it all started. Maybe it was you falling back to sleep after your alarm went off, or maybe it was you missing breakfast, or maybe it was just all of the above. 

Either way, everything was going sideways and it was just about to get worse. The lights seemed darker, the children’s voices were distorted, and the room was starting to sway. Feeling the need to sit down, you were only able to take a couple of steps to your desk before promptly fainting—smacking your forehead on the floor and the children screaming for help.

———

Spencer wasn’t one to wish for a case to land on JJ’s desk but at 1:30pm on a Monday, he found himself twiddling his thumbs and calculating his rocket launches using his expansive brain capacity—all paper filings done and submitted early. He swiveled to face Morgan who was caught red handed about to throw a paper clip in his direction. 

“Hey Kid,” he cleared his throat, trying to act nonchalantly. “You done with your paperwork?”

“Yeah, now I’m thinking of how to improve my rocket magic. Hey do you think if I add more—” 

The vibration of his phone on the table interrupted his sentence. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in the unregistered number. Curious but definitely wary, he pressed ‘accept’.

“Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Who is this?”

A female voice answered. “Hi Dr. Spencer Reid, I’m calling from Virginia State Hospital. Y/N had you listed down as her emergency contact. She was admitted—”

The remaining information all sounded muffled. His breathing was spiking up and all he could hear now was the rapid staccato beating of his heart. He couldn’t think straight. Is this what unknowing family members of victims feel when they receive a distress call? Like the rug was pulled under their feet? He couldn’t comprehend what to do, how to—

“Dr. Reid, are you still there?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes—yes, I’ll be there soon.”

Before the voice could say another word, he ended the call, was out of his desk, and up the steps to his unit chief’s office, SSA Aaron Hotchner. 

“Reid, what is it?” the stern BAU leader clocking in the distress painted on the genius’ face.

“I-it’s Y/N. She was admitted at hospital and—”

He nodded. “Go, Reid. I’ll explain to the team and HR.”

With a quick ‘thank you’, he ducked out of the bullpen to the elevator, grateful that he opted to drive to Quantico today rather than take his usual train route.

Maybe he should have borrowed the government owned SUV instead, he thought to himself when he turned to the main road and saw the congestion. Hotch would have understood, he just wasn’t sure how to explain that in paperwork but this counted as an emergency, right? It felt like a life or death situation to him—for him and for you. 

When he exited the bottleneck traffic, Spencer wanted to floor the gas. His foot itched to stomp on the accelerator and worry about the fines later. But the idea of getting caught, being pulled over, and wasting more precious seconds away from your side was enough for him to second guess it—that and his tight white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. 

He should have asked for more information over the phone call but the second his mind registered the words, it went to overdrive and out of the window—his emotions were running high and clouding every logical thought possible. He had an IQ of 187 but all he could think of was you. You, the love of his life. You, his fiancee, lying down on a hospital bed, alone and unconscious. Any man, no matter how smart they are, would react the same way he did when it involves a loved one.

He parked his car at the first slot he could find in the hospital parking lot and ran straight to the reception.

“I’m looking for Y/N. She was admitted a while ago. I-I’m her fiancee.” Spencer hurriedly introduced himself.

The nurse nodded once, stating your floor and room number. Without so much as an acknowledgement, he ran to the nearest elevator and willed it to open any faster.

Spencer felt like he ran a marathon by the time he found your room and seeing you there, lying on your bed—conscious, thank god—took a little weight off his chest. He breathed out your name in relief. “What happened? Did you—did you hit your head?”

Your hand gingerly touched the bandage on your forehead. “I think so. I started to feel faint so I was walking back to my chair. I must have hit my head on my way down—”

He took your hands into his, kissing it. “You had me so worried. Did the doctor say anything? Diagnosis? Cause? Treatment?”

“No. When I came to, only a nurse was here. She left to page the doctor but it’s okay—I feel fine now.”

Spencer opened his mouth, no doubt to chide you about minimizing your pain and health, but then the doctor walked in with a clipboard on hand.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Smith. How are we feeling?”

“She said she was feeling faint before she hit her head. Does she have a concussion? Why did she feel faint—was it stress? Hypoglycemia? Labyrinthitis? Vertebrobasilar insufficiency?” Spencer rattled off.

 “Well, your husband sure knows medical terminology. Are you a Doctor too?” the physician asked.

Spencer’s brows met in between, finding the whole interaction off-putting. Here he was about to have a nervous breakdown and your doctor was as calm as a cucumber. “Fiancee, actually, and yes Doctor, 3 Phds not MD.”

“Impressive, and to answer your questions, Doc. None of the above.” 

His eyes widened. “Then it could be hypo—” 

Dr. Smith smiled and shook his head. “It’s not that either.” He reached into his clipboard, removing a prescription pad, and quickly jotting down medicine. “Here you go. She’ll need to take a capsule a day and I suggest a healthy balanced meal, exercise, and plenty of bed rest.”

Spencer’s eyes widened when he realized what the chicken scratch handwriting said. 

“What—what is it?” You asked in worry as Spencer seemed to have glitched.

The doctor grinned at you.“Congratulations, you’re pregnant.” 

Silence. 

“I-I’m what?!” 

The doctor chuckled. “You’re 3 weeks along so you’re still in the early stages. Your body is still adjusting—the fainting spell was caused by change in your hormones and low blood pressure. I suggest you schedule an appointment with your OB/GYN as soon as possible and get ample rest—” he looked at the couple once more before exiting the room. “—congratulations, again.”

The tears that started to gather in your eyes seemed to bring Spencer back to life. “Oh love, are those—are those happy tears or—?” 

You nodded. “Happy tears, Spence. I can’t believe it!” 

He reached out to hug you to his chest. “I love you, Y/N. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world.” 

You giggled. “I guess we have to tell your team about the baby genius on board, huh?” 

He laughed, remembering how Emily once asked him if he ever planned on having one and here he was about to become a father. 

You gasp, causing him to lean back and look at you with worry—did he hug you too tight? Did you feel— 

“I’m not going to fit in my wedding dress by then! Penny will have a fit! She had this vision and—” 

He leaned down to interrupt your ramblings. 

“I’m sure she’ll forgive you, especially if you're turning her into an aunt.”

You smiled, peering through your eyelashes. “Y’know we might have to find a new apartment soon. Just imagining how much shopping Penny would do for our baby genius even before he or she is born is making me shudder.”

He laughed. “Me too, love. Me too.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[cressidagrey]

Recipe for Love - Peach Cobbler

Summary:

Azriel finds a bakery and creates his very own reward system.

Warnings:

Kinda Rhys Bashing, but when don't I do that?

A/N:

thanks to @k-godling for listening to me rambling on about this and finding the perfect name for that Bakery! This will eventually be a series consisting out of One-Shots, so if you have an idea, shoot it my way! (Also, if anybody actually tries out that recipe, let me know lol)

Peach Cobbler Filling 2 ½ cups sliced canned peaches ¾ cup canned peach syrup ¼ cup brown sugar (packed) 1 ½ tablespoons cornstarch Few grains salt Dough 1 tablespoon granulated sugar ⅛ teaspoon baking soda 1 cup prepared biscuit mix (or your own biscuit recipe) ⅓ cup cultured sour cream 2 to 3 tablespoons milk (if needed)  Sweet or sour cream for topping

Place peaches in bottom of casserole. Mix peach syrup, brown sugar, cornstarch and salt. Pour over peaches. Set casserole in hot oven, while mixing dough. Stir sugar and soda into biscuit mix. Add cream and milk to make soft dough; mix lightly. Place by spoonfuls on top of hot peaches. Bake 30 to 35 minutes until well browned. Serve warm with sweet or sour cream. 

The Spymaster of the Night Court was contemplating killing his High Lord. 

Or maybe it was Azriel contemplating killing his brother. 

Maybe it was both. 

Whatever it was, Azriel was definitely mentally planning Rhys’ tragic demise as he trudged his way through Velaris. 

It wasn’t the first time he had done it. Wouldn’t be the last time either. 

He would never actually go through with it. 

(Probably.)

Regardless of how annoying Rhys was… regardless of how the words of last Winter Solstice were still echoing in his head. 

Alone the thought of a pleasure hall made him want to throw up these days, after all.  

He didn’t. Azriel knew better than that. 

It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. 

It was his own fault for allowing himself to fall in love with a mated female. It was his own fault for thinking that maybe he had a chance…for thinking that maybe…

He had never had a chance. Pretending otherwise wasn’t going to help him. 

Rhys had made himself clear months ago and then had done the same again today…today when Lucien had asked Elain to dinner and she had agreed. 

Of course, she had agreed. Azriel had taken himself out of the running months ago. 

Azriel had followed his High Lord’s order to the letter. 

Azriel had done everything that was asked of him, even when it had broken his fucking heart and left him…desolate. 

And as a thank you, he got Rhys’ crooning in his mind that See, Az? They worked things out. 

They had. Good for them. 

The food had tasted like ash in his mouth and he hadn’t managed to get down more than half a plate. Not more before he had excused himself, citing unrest in Spring…and had walked out of the River House without even properly seeing where he was going. 

Away. Far, far away. 

He had half a mind to let the shadows take him away. Maybe somewhere deep in the Illyrian Steppes, where there was no being anywhere near him. Where he could throw his magic at a mountain and destroy some rocks with the fury that embered deep within him…

You should get a treat! The shadows told him brightly at that moment, nearly making him stumble. 

What?

Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised him. 

The more forlorn he got, the more depressed…the more optimistic they became. The more they tried to get him to smile…the more they fed him with petty gossip included in their intelligence gathering… the more they did everything to make his life easier for him. 

They were trying. 

It was sweet.

I am not a dog, he grumbled back to them. He wasn’t. 

And besides…he didn’t deserve a treat anyway. For what? Doing his job? Surviving another week? Not killing Rhys during lunch that day? Not wringing Lucien’s neck for politely asking Elain to dinner? Not scratching out somebody’s eyes like a rabid…

Of course not, Master, the shadows agreed easily. You should still get a treat. Something nice, just for yourself. 

Something nice, just for yourself, he turned these words around in his head. 

He did have a lack of that in his life, but then he always had. He had never really had started to amass anything…collect anything…no little things to litter his rooms with…not even as much as a hobby, unless one called insomnia and stabbing the practice puppets in the House of Wind until they were reduced to rubble that. 

All of it was just…his job was his life and that was it. 

And it wasn’t like he deserved it anyway. 

Just like he didn’t deserve a mate, didn’t deserve Mor and didn’t deserve Elain…He didn’t deserve a fucking treat either. 

He clearly didn’t deserve anything that made his life easier. 

There’s this little bakery, the shadows proposed quietly. You could buy yourself a slice of cake! 

A slice of cake. A slice of cake before flying back to the House of Wind, barricading himself into his room and writing another report. 

A slice of cake before he would let the loneliness take over completely…before he would never even allow himself to look at any female ever again because he was not going to go through this pain again. 

Being a little bit overdramatic, Master? the shadows asked him with a sigh and he wanted to growl. 

No. No, actually, not really. 

Why shouldn’t he be overdramatic? 

At least in his own damn mind. It wasn’t like he was throwing that into anybody’s faces. Even when he had wanted to. He had wanted to scratch that smug little smile off Rhys’ face with his bare hand and…

You don’t, Master, the shadows sighed. You didn’t even want us to steal his favourite jacket. 

They had offered. They had offered to make Rhys’ life filled with annoying inconveniences. Azriel had said no after that Winter Solstice. Now he was reconsidering it. 

The problem was just that it wasn’t going to make him happy. 

The shades would be petty and that would be it, but he wouldn’t…it wouldn’t make him feel better. 

He would still feel unfairly treated…he would still feel always pushed to the edges of his family…the one whose emotions didn’t really matter…who’s happiness wasn’t a priority, not even a footnote, set firmly behind whatever was good for the court and that was that. 

He was the one send to do the dirty work, the one expected to deal with it, because clearly it didn’t bother him… which was a lie. Of course, it bothered him. But his skillset made him the obvious choice so…

Mor and whatever these 5 centuries had been…Mor who could have outright turned him down when he had yearned for her and had never bothered to do so. He was still waiting for her to do it. Even now. 

His hands clenched slowly, the scars feeling tighter. Autumn was coming…as soon as the leaves began to turn, the joints started to hurt him. 

They have double chocolate chip cookies, the shadows whispered like it was a state secret. He couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. 

Sugar was his one weakness. 

The shadows knew that. 

It would just be a few copper coins…maybe a silver one or two…his steps faltered.

One slice of cake? As a treat? Just a few minutes sat in one quiet corner of a bakery…alone. With just his shadows…that did sound…nice. 

As a treat for not killing Rhys, Azriel proposed. and for not doing anything, saying anything…for keeping his temper in check. 

He could work with that, right? 

It could be his very own reward system. One slice of cake for…for surviving another week. For not faltering. For not scratching anybody’s eyes out…for not loosing his temper and go into the illyrian Steppes and destroy a small mountain in a fit of rage. 

Huh. 

Maybe the shadows were onto something.

One shadows wrapped himself around his wrist and started tugging him along and Azriel followed. 

Down the bustling streets of Velaris, towards the outskirts of the Rainbow. 

There, Beehive Bakery took up the ground floor of a brownstone Townhouse…a yellow and white striped awning stretching over the length of it. It’s name was screamed from it’s sign above the door that was pushed open, quiet but lively conversation reaching his ears from within. There were three tables outside, filled with people, but as he walked into the shop, careful to tuck his wings into his body…there were still one or two tables left. Even one right there in one corner. 

It smelled heavenly in there…like vanilla and almond, wafting out of the oven thet must be in the backroom…a young High Fae was manning the till. She looked young. More a teen than anything, dark curly hair covering her head…Her limbs hadn’t yet lost all their coltish length. 

“Welcome to Beehive Bakery, what can I get you?” she asked him with more enthusiasm than  he had seen in a long, long time. 

For a moment, he came up short, eyes roving over the baked goods laid out behind the glass of the counter…and then finally snagging on the first cake in front of him…Peach Cobbler. It looked…great with a golden brown crust…there was one slice missing so he could see the perfect orange of carefully sliced peaches peeking out. 

“One Slice of Peach Cobbler, please,” he requested. 

“Coming right up,” she chirped brightly. “Some tea as well?” 

Azriel answered in the affirmative, quietly charmed by her sheer enthusiasm…A few moments later he exchanged a couple of silver coins for a plate holding a slice of peach cobbler, topped with a dollop of cream and a delicate teacup. 

He took both to the table he had sussed from the beginning. Clearly the worst place in the whole shop…but for his usage, it was perfect.

 The darkest corner, right in the back…covered in shadows…nobody would be able to peek at anything if he did choose to read some reports…and nobody could surprise him from the back. 

It was perfect. 

Perfect was also the only word he could imagine for that Peach Cobbler. Quite frankly it was best thing he had ever eaten. Tart but Sweet…and the topping crumbling and the peaches ooey gooey…it was so good it was startling. He could just get a teeny tiny bit of cinnamon in there…

Alone that Peach Cobbler had been worth every single coin. 

By the first forkful, he felt likes osmehting in his chest was easing. By the time he was left with only a third of it he was already dreading to finish the whole piece, because then it would be gone. 

And that just didn’t seem fair. 

He watched the people entering and then leaving again, some just coming for a single loaf of bread, some of them buying pastries or slices of cake to go…some sat down with a friend and conversed with them…The Beehive Bakery seemd to be a quietly buzzing hub of Velaris. 

The young girl behind the counter was busy fulfilling orders and smiling at every customer, some that called her by her name, Juniper. 

Halfway through the afternoon, a new female joined her behind the yonder. This one older, much tinier, her body filled out with lush curves…Blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders, held back by a handkerchief. 

“Done for the day?” she asked Juniper, and Azriel watched silently how she nearly absentmindedly fluttered around the space, replacing empty displays and generally making sure everything was in order. 

“I can stay if you need me, B,” Juniper said quickly but the blonde female waved her off, handing her a envelope from one of the pockets in her frilly pink apron. It had strawberries all over it, Azriel realised with some amusement. Juniper took the envelope, opened it to sneak a peek and then stared at her again. 

“That’s too much,” Juniper complained, clearly longsufferingly but B just laughed. 

“No, it isn’t. It’s just enough,” she promised and Juniper hugged her in thanks. 

“Thanks, B,” Juniper mumbled, before hanging up her apron and disappearing. Leaving B or whatever her name actually was, clearly in charge. 

In the meantime, Azriel had the shadows find him some of the reports he needed to read that were enchanted for secret keeping, only been able to be read by his eyes and his eyes only. 

B knew seemingly everybody that came into the bakery, knew the names of every customer, knew their order…and so Azriel settled in at that table and spend the rest of the afternoon, reading his report and draining his tea until only dark dregs remained. 

He listened to the cadence of her voice as she talked and relaxed in that little corner, where nobody paid him any mind. Nobody flinched away from him. 

Nobody cared. 

It wouldn’t stay his only visit. It would become a weekly tradition, a habit that he shouldn’t have but still had. 

Because he wanted to go to the Beehive Bakery. 

It was the one thing he wanted. 

What Azriel wanted had never mattered. 

Not really. 

Unless it was right here. Unless it was him buying himself Peach Cobbler and cream.

Unless it was him sitting in the darkest corner and just watching. 

[thehighladywrites]

Hii, it's me again, haha.

I got one idea and I though it would be fun, so here I am again...

Can you make texting with acotar characters or just batboys while reader is drunk and she slipped past them to bar and they text her where she went? (I hope it makes sense since my brain doesn't work this late...)

LA /Lulu <3

ACOTAR MEN X READER, SNEAKING OUT TO GO TO A BAR WHILE DRUNK

Summary: Do you sneak past them successfully? And if you manage to do so, how do they react?

Warnings: Mild nsfw in Eris and Rhysand’s part, mentions of drinking, a bit of crying, mention of reader throwing up in Cassian’s part, just fluff and crack

Author’s note: Hi Lulu, I always love your requests. And you make perfect sense, but i switched it up and made headcanons instead of a text thread because it would’ve been too much text. I hope this is okay!🫶🏽 Also i loved writing this, thank you for your request!!🤍

Azriel:

- There is no sneaking past Azriel, it’s just impossible

- His shadows know if you move a millimeter

- Even if he didn’t have them, he’s the spymaster and there’s just no way you’re able to fool him, especially not when you’re this drunk

- You try to sneak out but very obviously fail when you trip over nothing and bring down the table next to you.

- “ Love, where do you think you’re going? You’re drunk out of your mind.”

- “ Ssshhh... *hiccup* hidin' from my mate. Bar with frens, can't let him kn... *mumbles* the secret, ya know?

- He laughs as he picks you up.

- You scream that you’re mated and then give him a big smile when he puts you down and meets your eyes as you realize it’s your mate.

- “Hey, babyyy, misshed you soso much, like, *slightly mumbles* a looot!”

- you plant a fat kiss on his lips and pull him to you

- Azriel just gives you a small smile and pick you up to put you in bed.

- He’s for sure giving you lessons on how to properly sneak out, because you were too damn obvious,

- The spymaster can’t have his own mate be a bad spy, now can he?

Rhysand:

- He let’s you sneak out.

- This guy trails you, dying of laughter as you have a full on conversation with a tree, thinking it’s a person.

- He loves that you’re tiptoeing in the middle of the streets, trying to be subtle.

- Your eyes widen as you see him standing at the entrance of the bar you tried to sneak into.

- “Hello there darling, fancy meeting you here.”

- “ Whoooa you're here too? *hiccup* Wha' a craaazy coincidence, Cheeers to surprish... *mumbles* meetin's!”

- You beg him for shots and he indulges you, but switches the shots of vodka for water. He knows you were drunk enough to not realize. And if you complain about the taste, he adds a bit of salt for the taste.

- You both dance and sing and make out

- yeah drunkenly making out with Rhysand is heavenly

- He grabs you and leads you somewhere more private because it is unbecoming for the high lady and high lord to be seen like this

- his idea of private is… * drumroll * the bathroom!!!

- Rhys picks you up and plops you down on the sink’s side and just goes at it with no care in the world, after all who can say something to him or you?

- anyways you’re both lucid enough to acknowledge that fucking in a bar might be a bit… yeah… so he takes you home and gives you the time of your life

Cassian:

- Cassian is just as drunk as you are

- In the middle of your drunken giggles you came up with this brilliant idea to sneak out and meet up your friends at Rita’s

- You were in The House of Wind so sneaking out wasn’t really as easy as it sounded since you don’t have wings.

- You really wanna go out so you ask Mor to secretly help you when she’s leaving

- The bar was crowded as you danced on tables and bought shots for everyone.

- All of a sudden you felt nauseous and needed to empty your guts. You run out and stumble into Cassian who looks surprised to see you.

- Before he can explain what he’s doing here, you move away and throw up in the alleyway.

- He makes his way over to you and holds back your hair.

- The whole thing sobers you up a bit as you look up at Cassian, sensing mischief and guilt.

- “Baby, what are you doing here?” you ask, genuinely confused.

- “ Um, Rhys and Az are in the bar next door and asked if i wanted to come. Wait- what are YOU doing here?”

- “ Uhhh, I snuck out too. I wanted to meet my friends. But wait did you seriously plan on leaving me alone?”

- His jaw dropped and you bit your lips from laughing.

- “You snuck out first! So actually, you left me first, all alone.”

- You both stare at each other for a hot minute before giggling and agreeing that this never happened and left to meet up with Rhys and Az.

Lucien:

- He trusts you more than anyone in the world, so he doesn’t suspect that you’re lying when you say you’re just going to the bathroom.

- Little does he know you’re drunkenly stumbling over to The Sunshine Delight, the best bar in the Day Court.

- You don’t know how long you’re there for but you go up to the stage and sing a bit, go the bar and drink, dance around and suddenly stumble upon your friends.

- They catch up with you as you sit and play drinking games, laughing and having the time of your lives.

- Your friends sit up straighter and fix their hair and makeup as your brows furrow in confusion. Turning around to see who they’re oogling at, you’re met by Helion’s bewildered expression.

- Shit. If your father-in-law knew you were here then there was only a matter of time before Lucien picked you up. Your friends however didn’t care as Helion approached.

- “ Gods, you’re lucky Y/n, he is so hot! Please put in a good word for me.” You friend not-so-subtly whispered, unaware that Helion was already mated to Lady of Autumn. Helion’s laugh boomed as he plopped down besides you, making you sober up a bit.

- “My dearest daughter, what in The Mother’s name are you doing here all alone? Is my son lurking around here?”

- Oh no, Lucien… Even though you missed your friends, you wanted him here. Tears started forming in your eyes as you started feeling distressed by your mate not being next to you

- “ M’not sure. He should be around here somewhere. Actually let me go check-” He must know you’re lying because he just laughs and tells you Lucien is on his way.

- “ You’re drunk out of your mind and I honestly applaud you for managing to sneak out of the palace at all. But it’s dangerous to be here by yourself, sweetheart. Let’s just wait for Luc, yeah?”

- He was right. Gods, how could you just leave Lucien? Guilt filled you as you started sobbing in the middle of the bar. Your friends and father-in-law looked alarmed and they comforted you as you cried for your mate and husband.

- Lucien was so ready to lecture you about leaving drunk and alone in the middle of the night but all of that came to a halt when he noticed you crying.

- His protective instincts went into overdrive as he hurriedly approached the table, confusion written all over his face as you threw yourself at him in a bone crushing hug, bawling your eyes out.

- Helion and your friends briefly explained as they held back their laughs at your drunken state.

- Lucien took you home and cared for you, whispering comfort and postponed his lecture about the dangers of the night.

- His mate needed him and you were his priority, always.

Eris:

- Yeah…

- I genuinely think he’s one of the smartest sjm-verse characters and if we’re so real, you’re not sneaking past him.

- But let’s be a bit delulu

- He noticed you were a bit buzzed after having too much wine at dinner

- Much to his amusement, you cling to him and act like a complete fool. But he makes sure it’s in private because he knows you’d die if you knew anyone saw you acting like a drunkard.

- At dinner, your ladies informed you that they were visiting this new bar and asked if you wanted to come. Initially you had declined because you wanted to spend time with Eris, but after he informed you that he has a meeting, you changed your mind.

- You had to be very sneaky since Eris knew you inside and out. He could tell when you were up to something. But this was the perfect coverup for your plan.

- “I’m so tired. I think this wine is making me sleepy. Love, I’m gonna turn in for the night, you sure you still have to go to that meeting? You could stay here with me instead.”

- Eris eyes filled with longing as he sighed heavily.

-“ I wish I could cancel, my beloved. But Lord Cruit travelled far and I think it’s best we get these documents signed and dealt with. Besides it’s only two hours and if you behave, i’ll treat you real nice. What do you say?” He gently brought his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you forward into a kiss.

- You loved when he treated you good, but you loved it even more when he punished you. So you just smiled at him sweetly, putting on your best show.

-“ I’ll behave, I promise. I love you, now hurry. You don’t wanna be late.” You pecked him once, twice and ushered him out as quickly as you could before he could pick up on what you were doing

- You waited for fifteen minutes before you changed into one of your sluttiest dresses you had, and winnowed to the new bar. You spotted your friends and made your way over, deciding not to drink too much since you wanted to remember the inevitable consequences of your decision

- and also the wine from dinner had you buzzed.

- After around two hours, the crowd separated to let High Lord Eris through. He looked beyond unamused, just staring at you without saying anything because, well, it wasn't something he wanted everyone to hear in public.

- he just looks at you from top to toe and simply turns around and walk away.

- That is your cue to go as you fall into step behind him.

- “ Babyyyyyy s-slow down, 'ese shoes, can't... *mumble*... walk right in 'em!” He slows down and extends his hand before throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and winnowing home.

- Eris leads you into your chambers and puts you down before grabbing your chin and looking you deep into your eyes with a wicked smirk as he mentally starts planning your punishment, funishment is more like it

- Safe to say he had fun… and he told you that if you’d just let him know you were going out then he wouldn’t have had to look for you like a maniac. He gave you a dark chuckle when you told him this was your plan all along.

- Here babes, you’re gonna need this wheelchair 👩🏾‍🦽👩‍🦽

[whorediaries-09]

Hey!! Could you do one where Sirius and reader were dating during hogwarts but they broke up after harry was born but they were already his godparents. After James and Lily die, Sirius doesn’t go to Azkaban so they have to reunite to take care and raise Harry.

hi love, thank you for sending in the request. it's a great idea, and could have been longer than what i have written to be honest, but i was running short on time. i still hope you like it <3

maroon;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort, drinking, alludes to sexual assault. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- i wanted to write a fic using this song for so long. anon i love you cause i have the perfect opportunity to do that now 👯‍♂️

the slut club

and I wake with your memory over me that's a real fucking legacy to leave,

you're sure you can still hear his ringing distinctive laughter through the photograph. the photograph you hold has faded away its brightest hue, along with the smile of james potter and his heartbeat. you cradle his almost doppelgänger on your knee if it wasn't for his bright emerald eyes. he sucks on his thumb, while brandishing a twig in thin air. (after you had successfully convinced him it was a wand)

'honey, look, it's your papa,' you say, flashing his father's picture on his eyeline. you wonder if he recalls his features as his grubby fingers grab at the photograph. you wonder if you'd had to introduce his father to him if he weren't dead.

the doorknob clicks. the footsteps knocking on the floor are similar but it still sends a wave of coldness through your veins. your jaw tightens.

'i'm so sorry i'm late,' he says running his fingers through his hair. he picks up harry, and places a chaste kiss on his chubby cheek. you get up from the sofa.

'it's okay sirius, he's my godson too,' you say, loosening your tightened jaw. you crack your knuckles.

'buddy where'd you get this...twig?' you hear sirius ask harry. he flashes him a half toothed grin, shoving the twig in his ear.

'hey, hey no,' sirius scrunches his face in pain. you suppress a smile, throwing your coat over your shoulders.

'i convinced him it's a wand. he saw me using it to turn down the blinds and yeah, you know he's just like his father, stubborn,'

'you seen moony?' you ask. remus was the only person you could confide in at that moment. somethings seemed to be overwhelming. swallowing it up would seem like a great idea, but it wasn't. not in the long run. the run hadn't even started and you felt like your joints were rusted, lungs exhausted and heart beating too slowly. perhaps it was the after effects of a lorn tragedy. your breathing palpitated with the way sirius' gray eyes ran over your body.

'he's sulking as usual,' he replied, his mood suddenly in the halt of a shift.

'home?' you ask, your feet jittery.

'hm,'

you're not sure whether it's a tone of disapproval or jealousy. the latter seems dimensionally impossible, so you disapparate, to lupin's house.

*******

your eyes are torn of sleep, the half moon shining stark against the dark sky. the stillness of the night enveloped you, an uncomfortable warmth surrounding you. the night seemed stuffy, a prison of your thoughts. it was as if a weight of restlessness settled upon your bones, your mind and body battling to fall into a slumber. the darkness thundered a dance of troubled thoughts, which instead of providing solace was a battle against the dreams that awaited you on the other spectrum of sleep.

it's thud against your door. is it the wind? you search for your wand, and slowly whisper,

'lumos,'

the tip of your light enlightens into a beautiful solemn blue. you curl your toes, walking down the hallway. your voice is sore, dry and cracked when you speak, pressing your ear against the wood of the door.

'wh-who is it?'

'it's me, sirius.'

your hand wraps itself around the doorknob as your turn it, around, unlocking the door. it's not the first time he showed up at your house in the middle of the night. last time, when he came in he was drunk and red-eyed, searching for a bestowed comfort. while it wouldn't have mattered if it was someone else, it felt so wrong back then. he'd hugged you tight, your ribs almost breaking from the pressure. it made you reminisce of the days when he'd hug you, whispering i love you's in your ear. it made you reminisce of the days when he'd tickle you and you'd laugh till your ribs hurt. you remembered how he'd reeked of alcohol and tobacco, so unlike yet like him.

he stands there before you, his nose dripping blood, tears staining his cheeks. you stare at him hollow-eyed, your heart bleeding with an urge to hold him. but it seems like you're stuck, as if your blood is frozen, your senses too numb. he stammers, walking towards you. he smells like a flowery scent infused with the stench of beer. his words are broken when he speaks into your hair, his arms dropping on your body.

your lips are dry as your arms close around his shaking body.

'who did this to you?' you whisper. you feel his heartbeat beating against yours. his slows it's pace and yours picks up the pace as he lets the cruel words out of his mouth, offering you a broken story.

'this-this girl, she groped me when i was dancing with her. i thought it was by mistake a-at first, but-'

he breaks down, his sobs shattering every shard of your broken heart.

'it's fine, we'll get you a warm bath,' you whisper, slowly running your fingers down his spine. it's as if by instinct, or maybe old habit, you kiss his shoulder.

'i-i miss you.' he says.

'i'm right here,'

'no, i miss us.'

'sirius?'

he looks at you with an utmost expression of genuine love and it scares you. his gray eyes almost absorb your soul. it's as if your heart beats maniacally against your ribcage, while he captivates you. he feels like the perfect muse for your poems. he feels like the last bite of your cornetto. he feels like home.

he feels like he's yours.

you're scared. maybe the incarnations were roses after all.

[miloformula123fan]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader? He opted to hold her hand during the celebration of the Merc's double podium because there were too many people. "Move through the crowd while holding hands so as to not lose one another – and not letting go afterwards". Just something fluff and comfort. Add something if it's not right. Tag me later!! Thanks :)))

sorry it's so short! but I loved writing this fluff, and honestly churned it out in like 1 hour.

also if you have older requests i am working on them, I am just also working on school work.

luckily, all my assessments are nearly done, and holidays are next week so yay! more updates :)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

toto wolff x wife!reader

“AND THAT IS A MERCEDES 1-2 TO THROW THIS CHAMPIONSHIP WIDE OPEN AT THE SAUDI ARABIAN GRAND PRIX AND 3 YEARS AFTER WINNING HIS LAST GRAND PRIX HERE, LEWIS HAMILTON HAS WON HIS 104TH CAREER VICTORY AND WHAT A WAY TO DO IT IN HIS LAST SEASON WITH MERCEDES.”

The rest of Crofty’s speech was drowned out by the cheers of the garage around Y/N as the team who had gone so long without winning, especially Lewis’ side of the garage cheered and yelled and as the pit mechanics came back from where they’d been on the fence yelling and contributed to more noise.

Y/N felt a little overwhelmed. She hadn’t really been in the garage since 2021, due to her husband’s tensions during the year and her wish to continue to just focus on her own career. She tried to insist she was the team’s bad luck charm after Abu Dhabi, until people had pointed out that she’d also been there during the dominant 2020 season. And as she had spent 2022 and 2023, which also were not great years for Mercedes, she’d agreed to do a lot more of her work remotely and come to the grand prixs. She insisted that she was bad luck at the first grand prix, and Toto had basically dragged her along to Saudi.

Maybe she was their good luck charm, she thought, as the garage exploded when Max and Sergio had crashed into each other, making both the red bulls retire. The Ferrari’s had been having problems all weekend but no one truly hoped even when they were sitting in a 1-2.

At least until they’d crossed the line. And then they’d had hope. And then the celebrations had begun. Someone had already found champagne and begun spraying it around, no one thinking about the podium, until all of a sudden everyone was and they were all rushing around and Y/N was all caught up in the rush and being pushed around by everyone, trying to find Toto until she felt a hand slip into hers.

She jumped back, not wanting some strange man holding her hand until she looked up and realised that it was in fact her husband who was trying to hold her hand.

“Sorry…didn’t realise it was you.”

“That’s okay Liebe. I’ve got you. Now lets go watch Lewis on the podium, okay?”

The second she nodded in agreement, Toto slipped his hand back into Y/N’s as he tried to push through the crowd again. Being tall and the team principal helped, and as they weren't coming for the pre podium celebrations, which is where everyone else was rushing towards. As the drivers were hugged and yelled at again by the mechanics (honestly how were they going to have voices tomorrow, and how were the red bull mechanics’ voices not very raspy after doing this practically every week for the past few years). Y/N thought she was going to have to cancel her meetings for the next few weeks as she would just be unable to talk.

Toto pushed through the throng of mechanics, pushing through the Mercedes and Williams colours everywhere, trying to get a good position at the front, and then the announcers began, and Toto and Y/N were wedged against the barrier and they decided to stop and watch the podium.

Y/N watched as Albon mounted the podium, grinning to the feral screams of the Williams mechanics to her left. She’d ended up wedged between James and Toto, smiling at James’ excitement on Alex being on the podium. She smiled at him as the noise from the Williams side of the podium celebration. He smiled back, almost bouncing up and down by the excitement of what Williams was achieving. And as Lewis, George and Bono bounded onto the podium, bringing up a round of screaming and even Y/N raised her hands. And as she raised her right hand, she could feel Toto’s hand, still intertwined with hers. She smiled, locking eyes with Toto.

His eyes twinkled as he smiled down, before his attention was brought back to the podium and yelling at the drivers.

The German and British anthems blared out, and while Y/N knew most of the words of the British anthem (it was mostly just the same words on repeat ‘god save our king’). And while Toto was able to sing the German anthem while Y/N butchered it here and there. She loved listening to her husband singing or talking in his natural language. It was very hot, if Y/N had to admit it.

As they left the podium to go back to the garage, Toto had still not let go of her hand as they continued winding between what felt like millions of people crowding the pit lane.

When they finally returned to the Mercedes garage, and walked up to Toto’s office, Toto finally let go of Y/N’s hand and started to gather up his work and laptop to get ready to return to the hotel.

“Hey, toto?”

“Yes liebe?”

“Why were you holding my hand?”

“Well, I didn’t want to get lost, and I didn’t want you to get lost, liebe.”

“Yeah, but why didn’t you let go of my hand when we got to the podium”

“Do I need an excuse to hold your hand, darling?”

“No but…”

“Then I kept holding your hand because I wanted to keep holding your hand. Is that a good enough excuse?”

“Okay Liebe.”

Toto put all his files and laptop in his left hand after shrugging on his overcoat, and then offered his right hand to Y/N.

“Can I keep holding your hand liebe?”

“Of course you can darling.”

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @pear-1206, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3

[justwinginglife]

hello! i love love love reading your fics so much that it gives me the soshiro brainrot everytime i scroll thru tumblr <3

can i request the reader (who's a platoon leader and secretly a simp for their vice captain!) catching the vice cap training at night and leaving them shocked because of the vice cap's physique? (LIKE YKWIM HE'S HANDSOME AND HOT IN THAT COMPRESSION SHIRT)

you can add some spice to the story bc i know you can write it beautifully <333

thank u so much for the soshiro hoshina sustenance <3

I'm so happy you like my fics omg. I'd do anything to support the Soshiro brainrot lmao. This is your captain speaking, we are heading into NSFW airspace, please fasten your seatbelts and prepare to get fucked.

Impatient

Your relationship with Soshiro Hoshina had been progressing at a rather slow and steady pace, but you were fine with it; this was your first serious relationship and you refused to do anything that would jeopardize it. You loved him after all, you could wait for him to love you.

But then you passed by the training room and -you blamed your next thoughts on it being 2 am- suddenly you wanted to throw all caution to the wind when you saw him standing there, stretching, his muscles rippling against his compression shirt.

Soshiro- the man that had asked permission before even holding your hand, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. You wanted to hold more than his hand now. Watching him train, you wanted to run your hands along every contour of his body. You wanted to know if he'd squirm under your touch, if he'd stiffen, if he'd melt.

Soshiro- the man with the silliest, most adorable laugh to ever grace the air. You wanted to pierce the silence with his moans, with his whimpers, with his gasps. You wanted the room to echo with sounds of his arousal. You wanted the whole base to hear how obsessed he was with you.

Soshiro- the man who always bends over to tie your shoelaces whenever he notices they're untied. You wanted to bend him over, you wanted him to bend you over. You wanted to test the limits of his flexibility, of yours. You wanted to explore every position with him in every square inch of this room. Every square inch of this base. You wanted to sneak sessions in supply closets, in the bathroom, in the locker room, in the med bay. Anywhere and everywhere. You wanted to stain the carpet in his office with your pleasure, wanted to drag your handprint down the fogged up glass of the shower doors, wanted to break a lunchroom table from the brutality of your rapture.

What was it about this man that had you biting your lip, blushing in a corner, your lewdest thoughts hungrily claiming every corner of your mind?

You told yourself over and over again that you were okay with the way things were. You were okay with stealing glances, with shy compliments, with passing touches. Any part of him was better than nothing.

But, as you continued in your observation of him as he swung his swords and sliced through the air, you found yourself consumed by your desires. You found yourself greedy for more of him. You wanted to selfishly lay claim to him over and over. You'd never felt such raw, intense urges before and it overwhelmed you. The proof of your love and your yearning was pooling in your underwear, and you had to adjust yourself so as to not just orgasm right there, as you feasted on the sight of him.

You'd never found your release in just mere thoughts before, but watching him now, you thought that you could come with nothing but the idea of him, nothing but your imagination.

You inhaled sharply and it caught his attention.

He smirked as he found your gaze, your longing made evident in your eyes. He admired the way the voluptuous swell of your breasts made themselves obvious as your chest heaved with shaky breaths. And there was no mistaking the way you’d crossed your legs as you leaned against the wall, attempting to hold back the flood of lust that was currently soaking your panties. 

His hum of approval reverberated in his chest as he set his swords aside and made his way to you. 

“How’s my darling girlfriend this evening?” He grabbed one of your hands and pressed his lips firmly against it. 

“Good. Great. I’m great.”

He began kissing up your arm. “Just admiring the view tonight?”

You gulped. So he had noticed you watching him. “It’s a nice view,” You shrugged, trying to come off nonchalant, but your words came out a mere squeak. 

He chuckled against your skin, still trailing his love up your arm, his hungry kisses quickly approaching your shoulder. 

You sucked in a breath as the delicious sensations flooded your body. “H-how’s your night?” 

He smirked against your neck. “It just got even better.”

As he continued his love trail up your body, nipping at your ear now, you reminded yourself that you loved him, and you could wait for him to love you. But you weren’t sure if you could wait for him to make love to you. The way it felt when he touched you, the way his whispered intentions filled your ears, the way you were completely enamored with him, leaving no misunderstanding about who your heart belonged to- it was all too much and at the same time, not enough. You needed more of him. You needed to know just how much he was yours and just how much you were his. 

You knew he wouldn’t dare go much further without your explicit consent, the way he was tasting every inch of you with reckless abandon was already significantly more than he’d ever done to you. Maybe 2am was getting to him too, maybe he needed this just as badly as you did.

So you gave him the permission he’d been seeking. “Soshiro- take me.”

His eyes widened. You knew he’d been desperate for those very words, but he still hesitated. “Are you… are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Don’t wear that shirt around me if you aren’t prepared to face the consequences.”

Your flirtatious banter seemed to somewhat ease the uncertainty in his mind, his relaxed features now forming a smirk, but you knew he was still waiting for extra confirmation. “I’m sure, baby. I need you. And I know you need me too.”

Then he pounced on you, his hands pushing your hips against the wall, his lips devouring yours in a fiery passion. “Damn right I need you.” 

The force of his tongue invading your mouth felt ravenous, felt rushed. Like the taste of you was payment that he was owed, payment that he was in a hurry to claim. You were overloaded with pure pleasure, your mind unable to decide if it wanted to focus on his moans seeping into your mouth, or his hips grinding into yours. His hips won out- his ever growing erection the most delicious distraction, as he kept thrusting against you, devouring any semblance of space between you, his enormous bulge taking up position between your legs, knocking against your entrance. 

For a minute, you thought you would just come in your clothes; his dry humping proving itself most seductive. But you wanted your first orgasm with him to be from his cock splitting your cunt open. 

Apparently he couldn’t wait that long. He came in his pants already; the pure perfection of you shivering under his touch was too much for his throbbing erection to handle. He’d spent his whole relationship with you holding back, and he had no more patience left, at least not for tonight. So he gave in to his feelings, gave in to the satisfaction of finding his release against you, his back arching as he finished thrusting himself into you, shuddering.

When his moans receded down his throat, you knelt down to peer at his pants. You poked at the wet spot and he groaned. “And we barely did anything too. Imagine how you’re going to feel,” You started to slide his pants down and he sucked in a breath, “When you’re inside me.”

You choked down his cum-soaked cock, feeling smug as it rapidly hardened again in your mouth. You’d never tasted him before but now that you had him right where you wanted him, his arousal dripping down your throat, you didn’t ever intend to stop tasting him. You wondered just how much cum he’d saved up for you, just how many times you could pry a release from him. 

He gripped your shoulder tight as he fucked into you rapidly, his cock eager for the slick of your saliva. “Fuuuuck, baby, you’re perfect. So goddamn perfect.” It wasn’t long before your mouth was flooded with his ambrosia, his lust sweet and sticky against your tongue. He bit his lip to hold back the flow of his moans, but they cascaded out anyway, filling the training room with the melodic sounds of his love for you. 

He pulled away from you and collapsed to his knees, his pulsing member still in the process of recovering. You guided him down to the training mat, pushing him flat against it. He thought you were allowing him respite. Allowing him to pull himself together, to clean up the mess of a man you’d made him. But you hadn’t got off yet and you felt it was your turn. 

You made a show of stripping yourself for him and he groaned into his fist, feeling his desires pump blood into his cock yet again. You wondered if it was painful to be so hard so frequently in one sitting. But as he began to stroke his cock while he watched you, you knew he had to be enjoying himself too. The way your fingers curled along the rim of your panties as you inched them down and the way they traced the contour of your chest before pulling off your bra, he enjoyed it all immensely. 

And when you claimed his cock in your hands, pumping it up and down a couple times before grinding your clit against the swell of his erection, and then running it along your slicked entrance, he thought he might be in heaven. Before he could stop himself, before the dream could end, he took hold of his dick again and shoved it deep inside you, eager to feel you clenching around him. You settled yourself firmly on top of him, your depths swallowing every inch of his cock. 

His lips found yours again, his kiss needy and hungry, as he began to thrust into you relentlessly. “So perfect, so wet, so mine. I can’t get enough of you, darlin.” 

Every moan tumbling out of your mouth sent him into a frenzy, his thirst eagerly quenching itself with every sweet sound, desperate to hear more. 

He begged you to come for him but he didn’t have to, your release had been building with every plunge in your pussy, and you were ready to explode.

“Say my name baby, I need you to cum with my name on those gorgeous lips.” 

“S-Soshiro... Soshiro, don’t stop. Ah, fuck, Soshiro!” Your ecstasy erupted inside you as you came on top of him. 

He felt the gush of your arousal drenching his cock as you clenched around him and he let himself go, let himself join you. He moaned your name as he buried himself in your hair, thrusting deeper inside you before filling you up. 

You dropped to the floor beside him, panting and sweating. 

“If you’re tired, it’s the shirt’s fault.” You joked in between breaths. 

He chuckled. “Then I’ll make sure to wear it more often. Tire me out as much as you like, baby.”

“I’ll take you up on that.”

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

Author's Note: I am aware all my sex scenes are starting to sound the same and that is because I am self indulgent and like the same stuff LOL. I will eventually write us doing different things, but if it ain't broke why fix it, ya know? I am impatient, I need us to be fucked by him, I ain't got time for all this other stuff. Please forgive my self indulgence and my horny impatience.

[athenamikaelson]

hii i was wondering if you could do a imagine where the reader is klaus daughter and she is a tribrid like hope and her boyfriend died or something like that (you can change it idc) and she turns her humanity off and she is all badass and he tries to turn it back on also i love your blog

Klaus Mikaelson x Daughter!Reader

Summary- Reader is Klaus’ daughter and also a tribrid, her boyfriend gets killed which results in her flipping the switch. Klaus is there to get her to turn her humanity back on. Also, I didn’t know whether to add Hayley as her biological mother so I’m going to leave that up to you guys and just write the character as someone who had a mother-daughter LIKE relationship. Hayley is also still dead, RIP Queen. 

Word Count- 1.6k

A/N- Thank you for the request! And thank you for the compliment!!! <3

Warnings- Blood, Reader has no filter and no cares, mentions of death and killing, body parts, alcohol, swearing, Klaus and the reader have unresolved issues, Reader digs on Hope. (I love you Hope, no one can make me hate you.)

Blood drips down my lips as I throw the body of some rando onto the floor of the dusty-ass bar I’m in. I bring my hand up, wiping the stray crimson liquid off my chin, and bring it back to my lips. I sigh escapes my lips at the taste. Feeling a moment of euphoria; well technically as much euphoria as someone with no emotions can experience.  

I catch the sound of the bar door opening from behind me and turn prepared to kill whomever decides to walk in. Unfortunately, the biggest earsore decided to grace my presence. If I could feel annoyance at this moment, I would. I let out a sigh of annoyance as I stared at my father. He stands at the entrance of the bar and casts a glance at the piles of bar patrons, or more truly the bar patrons' body parts, that are scattered across the floor. 

“Well, it appears you’ve been busy.” He says with a smirk and slight tilt of his head. He kneels and picks up the head of a man by his hair and glances at me with a raised eyebrow. 

“You’ve been hanging out with your Uncle too much appears,” he says as he tosses the head back down as if it’s trash. 

I just raise a shoulder as I walk behind the bar and pour myself a glass of bourbon. 

“Says the man with the nickname, Klaus the Mad.” I shoot back as I down the brown liquor. 

“Touche, Little Moon. I do have to say your,” My father pauses as he glances at the bodies around the bar, “habits, definitely come from my side of the family.” He appears to smirk in fatherly approval and then quickly covers it up with a shake of his head. 

“Your Uncle Elijah wouldn’t approve of this you know?” He says as he reaches for the bourbon bottle. I watch as he pours himself a drink but before he can grab the glass I speed to grab it. I stare at him as I down the drink and then give him a thoughtful look, “Well why doesn’t he tell me that himself?” My father’s smirk drops and we stare at each other for a moment before I lean back onto the counter and raise my hand in a matter-of-fact movement, “Oh, right. He can’t. Because he’s like dead.” My father just rolls his eyes.

“You done?” He asks me with a look of disapproval only a father could master. I stare at him for a moment, tapping my chin and pretending to be in deep thought.

“Well I mean there’s like countless other dead relatives I could bring up,” I bring my right hand up and start counting on my fingers, “Josh, Hayley, Cami, Jackson.” I ponder some more thinking of all the other people that have died because of my family. 

“Your boyfriend. Don’t forget to add him to the list.” I freeze for a split second as I hear my father’s words. I look at him and he’s staring at me with a knowing look. It takes me only another fraction of a second before I let out a laugh. 

“I’m not turning it back on,” I tell him as I cross my arms and lean back against the counter. He stares back at me and taps his chin in the same way I had done moments before. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, turn what back on, Little Moon?” He says with a tone that makes me want to stick a white oak stake into his heart. 

“Let me guess, Hope calls you crying to Daddy that her sister is going off the rails and hurting and killing people and needs to be stopped. Even though like a month ago she was going around telling everyone, “I’m the big scary tribrid I can’t be killed” and then goes and kills our friends?” I say in a matter-of-fact tone at my sister’s hypocrisy. 

My father lets out a sigh as he goes to walk behind the bar next to me, he comes to stand next to me and I subconsciously take a step away resulting in my father stopping and staring at me. 

“Y/N, Hope regrets everything she did and only wants you to know that turning your switch off is only a temporary fix.” I pretend to put a small smile on myself before dropping it and laughing in my father’s face.

“God Dad, you’d do a killing at a TED talk, maybe next you can tell a group of teenagers with anxiety to just “chill out”  and that it’s all in their heads. Also, why the fuck did Hope get you to do her dirty work, why can't the big bad tribrid come and face me herself?” 

“OK first, I have no idea what the bloody hell a TED talk is. And second, your sister called me worried and we both thought it would be a better decision that I come and talk to you. We both know that you have the emotional capacity of a Mikaelson. Just like your father.” He says with a small smile on his face. 

“I remember once when you were 11 Kol told you that he wouldn’t teach you a certain spell because he said it was too advanced for you at that age. In retaliation, you went behind his back, stole the spell, and tried your hardest to do it. But as much as I hate to give your Uncle Kol any praise and I deny this if you ever tell him, Kol knows too much about spells and witch stuff so he was right about the spell being for a higher age level.”

I stand there remembering the exact story he’s retelling. 

“No, it wasn’t.” I deny. He stares at me and raises his eyebrow.

“You caught your hair on fire, all of it burned off and Hayley had to buy you a wig. The wig was also an atrocious purple color.” 

I just stare at him for a second and then nod remembering that the purple wig really was a horrible decision. For a split moment, I felt a light feeling in my chest at the memory but as quickly as I felt it I pushed it away. 

“Let that feeling in, Little Moon,” he tells me as he reaches his hand out to touch my arm, but in a split moment, I grab his arm and push it back to a breaking point and push him away speeding to the edge of the room away from him. 

“Don’t even try it, Dad, giving me a funny childhood story isn’t going to make me instantly turn it back on. One funny story doesn’t amount to all the other shit that went on,” I look at him in anger, “Do you remember why Hayley had to be the one to buy me the wig and not you?” My father’s face falls and goes to say something but I stop him. 

“Hayley had to do it because you weren’t there. You. Weren’t. There. You had to hear this story from Hayley’s letters to you. Letters you never responded to. Just like the phone calls you never responded to me. Waiting by the phone every birthday, waiting for my father to call me, or watching the other girls go to the Daddy daughter dances while my father is across the world killing innocent people. So don’t for a second try to doting father act. I have every right to want a break for one second in my fucking life. Y/B/N dying was just the cherry on top of the fucked up ice cream that is my life.” I finish yelling at him as he stares at me with noticeable regret and heartbreak in his eyes. I watch as he picks up his hand and goes to reach out to me but drops it once I flash my tribrid eyes at him in warning. 

“I know I wasn’t there for most of your childhood and I will always regret that,” My dad looks down at his hands and for the first time in my life I see the most feared man in the world look as little and humane as a mortal man, “but I’m here now Y/N. And I’m not going anywhere. You can flash your eyes at me, bite, and yell at me, even threaten me but I’m not going anywhere. I’ve lived a long time and have seen many people go through what you’re going through Little Moon. And I know you’re hurting and I know I’ve left you before and I will spend forever making up for that. And right now you need your family and, I’ll follow and annoy you until you’re ready to flip that switch. Always and forever, My Little Moon.”

When my father is done with his monologue I place another solemn look on my face and walk over to him and give him a small smile. My father seems to lighten up at my approach and goes to meet me but as he comes to pull me into a hug I speed behind him and snap his neck dropping his dead body onto the ground. His body blends with all the other dead people that are already scattered around the bar. 

“You can take your Always and Forever and shove it down your throat,” I say to his dead body as I walk out of the bar.

[lustlovehart]

Hiya! Massive fan of yours, and I have a question regarding the Monster Hunter AU.

What's going on with Che'nya? Is he just a normal guy? (I don't think this is likely TBH) Is he a monster who's normal about the reader? Is he just vibing?

So, my questions are (BTW I don't mean to be rude, I just like Che'nya):

Is Che'nya in the AU?

What monster is he? (I peronally think he'd be something like a Nekomata or Bakeneko, and I'd love to know what you think!)

May he be someone who is kissable? :3

That is all, thank you, have a lovely day/evening/whatever time you exist in.

Thank you for being a fan!! It’s so shocking to remember loads of people Reader my stuff. (Even having a single post with 300+ notes is amazing considering that was the population of my elementary school 😭).

Truthfully… When I started the au, I wasn’t very interested in Chenya, horrible I knoww!! (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞!! but recently, i’ve grown a little bit of an interest in him! (The Cheshire cat and the Queen of Hearts have always been my favs in any rendition of Alice in wonderland.) Though, he was added in the very first draft for the Au! In fact, he actually had Jacks position of being a hunter you were close to before starting your missions.

So truthfully, he is in the au! I’m just currently deciding whether or not to add him officially… (It already happened to Fellow and Skully, so the chances are pretty high!)

Oh my goodness!!! (」°ロ°)」 I love the idea of a nekomata!! The thought of reader seeing a long time friend of theirs sprout tails and ears while throwing fireballs at innocent civilians is so painful! Imagine, you watching Chenya smile at you with that usual teasing demeanor, like you’re back to being a pair of hunters, evading your work husband (Rollo) with laughs of joy as if he’s not manipulating dozens of corpses behind him. You blink once and he’s popped behind you, whispering riddles about the fair future you’ll have if you leave behind this job, all the monsters who’ve fallen deeply for you. You turn your head to face him again, and he’s back at your front, a single clawed finger picking your chin up, his tails brushing against your hand.

It’s okay, if you come with him to the forest he originated from, he promises your days will forever be filled with carefree joy, the only worries you’ll ever need to have being the pranks he can pull on you.

Whether you decide to follow him into the forest, is up to you :).

My original thought, even though they’re closer related to dogs, I thought a kitsune would fit Chenya amazingly!! Their teasing/pranking nature, and feeding off vitality sound good to me. Plus, I may or may not be a sucker for kitsune… Wake up to the feeling of soft tails enveloping you, the sight of passed-out humans greeting you before quickly getting attacked by arms wrapping you in a tight hug. You look up and Chenya gives you the cheekiest of grins, petting your head like you’re the one with tails rather than him! Though, I won’t deny I love the idea of a Nekomata so much more!! I’m really considering making him that in the au honestly.

And is he kissable? of course he is!! Any monster is kissable in the eyes of MH!Reader!! Literally Pokémon’s: Catch them all slogan except instead of catch, it’s Date them all if you’re the affection type, or slay them all if you’re on the murder route! Either way, they’re all so into you either one works (Which really shouldn’t be the case but their monsters. They just assume your love language is stabbing them. Only you though, anyone else who tries ends up getting the table turned on them.)

But overall, you might see Chenya as an addition to the cast soon enough >:D, and if you kiss him, well it’s only fair you let him kiss you twice as much.

[targaryenluvs]

100K CELEBRATION!

hello my lovelies, we’ve recently reached 100k likes (which is insane in my eyes) and i wanted to throw a little party in here ❤️

1) my requests are open for all fandoms, (click here for fandoms) and you can request blurbs and imagines. you can also ask for specific appearances or names to cater to you.

2) shipping event! i love these myself so why not? you can add a fandom of your choice to be shipped with a character and a blurb about your personality and appearance. in return you’ll get a blurb of the two of you! (adding your real name is optional you can choose to give me a nickname or just y/n).

i don’t know as of now when i’ll close this, thanking all 3.6k (how did we get here wtf) of my lovely followers whether your new or an og, i appreciate you all ❤️

Prompts:

Angst/Hurt:

'You scared me back there.”

“You never really cared, did you?” “I always cared, you never noticed.”

“Do you think you’re invincible?”

"I came as soon as I heard." “You didn’t have to.”

“If you didn’t want to be with me then why the hell did you drag me along?”

“Do you love them?”

“I can’t even look at you.”

“You need to take care of yourself.” “Why do you care?”

“Don’t touch me!”

“Did you ever love me?”

Fluff:

“I would wait here forever.” “God you’re cheesy.”

“Y/n, I love you.” “Finally.”

“You’re cute as hell.” “I know.”

“I could keep you in my pocket all day.”

“Is that my shirt?” “Yes.” “Keep it, looks good on you”

"Wear a sweater, it's cold out."

“Have you eaten today?” “I’ll eat you.” “Woah.”

“Did you buy me flowers, why?” “Just take the damn flowers.” “Naw, have I made you sappy?”

“If I called you the apple of my eye, would you hit me?” “Yes.”

“Time for bed.” “No I have work…” “Doesn’t matter, come on.” “Noooo!”

Flirty/Smutty/Jealous:

“If he doesn’t stop staring I swear to god—,” “Un-ball your fists please.”

“Now how am I supposed to focus when you look like that?”

“Do you ever shut up?” “There’s ways to make a girl shut up yknow?”

“I’d rather die than kiss you.” “Sure thing Y/n.”

“God you’re divine.”

“This is too small. You’re too close.” “Well who’s bright idea was it to hide in a closet?”

“Is that blushing I see?” “No, shut up!”

“I’m sorry it’s a bit difficult to stand here whilst everyone is staring at my girl.”

“I want to put you in a chokehold.” “Whoa sweetheart, you kiss your mother—,” *Smothers his mouth*

“You’re lucky I have self restraint.”

Dark:

1 - “I gave you a chance, remember that.”

2 - “The longer you hide the worse it’ll be when I find you.”

3 - “Did you really think you could get rid of me?”

4 - “Someone dangerous could’ve hurt you.” “You are dangerous.”

5 - "If I was you sweetheart, I’d get to runnin’."

6 - “Just leave me alone.” “Don’t hurt my feelings, god knows what I’ll do.”

7 - “Can’t tell me you don’t want it when you’re acting like this Y/n/n.”

8 - "You don't want to be my good girl?"

9 - "Missed me have you?" “How’d you find me?”

10 - “And who’s going to believe you?”

Cannot wait for requests!

- Kira 🎀