#you can check the request rules from my pinned post!

[xdjville]

just a reminder that my requests are open!!

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: You Falling Asleep

A/N: Not requested! I just thought it would be a cute idea! Requests are still open. Be sure to read my rules in the pinned post :) Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher didn't want anyone visiting him in the hospital, but you weren't taking no for an answer. He'd been sleeping on and off, but when he work up again, you were asleep. Curled into a ball in one of the visitor chairs. You looked uncomfortable and cramped, but your expression was that of relief. For a little while you weren't worried about the state of the world or the future or his health. He knows you haven't been getting enough sleep. That didn't really matter when it felt like the world was ending every other day. When the nurses come in he makes sure to warn them. He couldn't be the cause of your fears and the one to wake you up. Someone brought a blanket and he gently placed it over you. He watched you, taking in this moment. You were finally relaxed. He knew you'd only done this because you were completely exhausted, you could barely keep your eyes open. It hurt him to know that he was a big reason why you couldn't eat or sleep or take care of yourself. He never meant to hurt you like this.

Hughie notices you can barely keep your eyes open. After that night at Tek Knights, you haven't been sleeping very well. You'd been so scared, so sure you were going to die with five new holes punctured into your body. You woke up from nightmares gasping for air, checking your skin for holes, afraid you were still in the sex dungeon. That you never got out. He's not sure how to talk to you about it and the guilt eats him alive. You and him are going through his files on Neuman when your head starts to fall only for you to startle awake. He insists you take a nap in his bed. You're reluctant, but you're so exhausted you eventually give in. He doesn't shut the door completely, wanting to be there if you have another nightmare. It's the least he can do.

Annie insists she'll stay awake for the both of you. The shape shifter captured you both. You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. They ended up drugging the both of you. They switched between your two identities, tearing off their skin, taking your memories as well as your faces. Annie can see just how tired you are. Your skin is raw and you've run out of tears. She doesn't hold it against you. She fights against the chains quietly, hearing your breathing turn shallow. She would find a way out of this. She would get you out of this. You'd feel better after getting a good night's sleep. You weren't a Supe. You didn't have the abilities she had. And yet, she couldn't get them to work. She cursed herself for not protecting you, not saving you, not being a good enough Supe. She was grateful you weren't awake to see her fall apart like this.

M.M. does everything in his power not to wake you. You fell asleep on a surveillance mission in the van. You'd gotten so quiet, he felt like he was talking to himself. When he looked over, putting the binoculars down, you were curled in a ball in the passenger seat, fast asleep. He knows you haven't been sleeping well. If it's not the nightmares, it's the fear, the worrying. You recently admitted you'd kept a loaded gun where you could easily reach just in case. You were petrified something terrible would happen if you relaxed even a little, if you let your guard down. You needed this. He turns the engine off and puts his coat over you. He would've loved being able to talk about your heightened stress and anxiety, ways to cope, but this was a lot better. He hoped you'd feel safer, calmer after you woke up.

Frenchie freaks out a little internally. He thought you were dead. Your head was resting in your folded arms on your desk. Once he saw your body rise and fall with your breathing, he realized you weren't knocked out or dead. You were asleep. He thinks it's a little funny after getting over his initial panic. You've been working really hard lately. He wasn't sure how much sleep you were getting, if you were getting any at all. When the others walked in, bickering and laughing, he motions for them to be quiet. You needed this. Everyone whispers, going their separate ways. Frenchie turns down the lights, leaving a lamp on so that you're not totally in the dark. He wants you to rest as long as possible. You've been giving everything to this job, this cause, lately. You needed a lot more rest than this.

Kimiko knew you'd been having nightmares. It wasn't a secret. You confided in her one night that you haven't been sleeping well. Every time you close your eyes, you see Homelander. You feel his lasers slice through you until you're two halves. He's not just angry or upset, he's furious. You can't escape him. You two are hanging out when she notices you can't keep your eyes open. She tells you to lay down with your head on her lap. You laugh it off, but she's serious. She rubs circles between your shoulder blades, trying to ease you to sleep. When she notices your eyes are closed she doesn't stop. It brings her a lot of ease and relief knowing she can help you, at least a little. If you have another nightmare, if you face Homelander alone again, she'll be there when you wake up. She'll be there.

Bonus! Homelander either let's you sleep or orders you out of the room. If he likes you, he might warn the others to shut the fuck up. He'd move your meeting to another time and simply let you be. He might check on you every so often and when he sees you stirring he would gently wake you up, walk you to your room where you can sleep in a real bed instead of holding your head up in the board room. If he doesn't like you, he yells and berates and is this close to firing you before he realizes The Seven and Vought need you for your powers. You can apologize all you want, he won't listen. Either way you're completely embarrassed. You've just been so busy lately, it's been hard to fall asleep with everything going on.

[sister-lucifer]

Goodnight, Darling 

Lucifer x Gender Neutral Reader 

Summary: Reader cant sleep, so they decide to go find Lucifer 

Genre: Fluff 

Content/Warnings: Lucifer and Reader already have a bit of a relationship but it’s mostly implied, Luci being sweet, very eepy reader

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

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Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

You’re not sure what time it is now, and you don’t care to turn over and check. The only sound in your room is the rain thundering down from the night sky, tapping on your window in a soft, erratic rhythm. It’s dark, but not too dark, a bit of light can still reach you from the hallway. Your blankets are as comfortable as ever, thick but not heavy and just warm enough. It’s the most ideally peaceful environment you could ever imagine. 

So why aren’t you asleep?

You’ve been asking yourself that for almost an hour now. By all means, you should’ve been out like a light. You spent all day today running errands and scampering around to do all those things you didn’t have time to this week. You’re exhausted. 

So why. Aren’t. You. Asleep?!

You groan in frustration and stretch out a bit before turning onto your side. You stare at the wall for a few moments, wondering what else you could do. 

It’s too late to make tea, you’ll make too much of a ruckus in the kitchen.

The only melatonin in the house is used by Asmodeus, and he guards his beauty sleep with his life. There’s no way you could sneak into his room. 

It’s probably not a good idea to do any sort of engaging activity, that’ll just wake you up more. 

Nothing, nothing, nothing. Maybe you’re doomed to just lay here until the end of time. You’re starting to wonder if you pissed off one of the brothers enough for them to curse you. 

Wait. 

One of the brothers… 

There’s an idea. 

Before you can stop yourself you’re out of bed and on the ground, carrying a blanket with you on the way. You waste no time getting out of that stale room, and soon you’ve started down the hallway. Your feet patter softly on the pristine tile floors, and the only other noise is the rain coming down outside and video game soundtrack from behind Levi’s closed door. It’s definitely bedtime in the House of Lamentation. 

As you pass by the rooms of the younger brothers, you debate for a split second stopping by each of them, but you don’t. Levi won’t be going to sleep any time soon, Mammon sleep talks, Asmodeus is too stingy about his beauty sleep, Satan kicks in his sleep, and the twins’ unbearable snoring will certainly keep you awake. 

But that’s alright. You’re not looking for any of them. You’re headed for the red door at the end of the hall that’s cracked open just slightly, allowing some soft lamp light to leak out. 

You knew he’d still be awake. 

You press your palm to the door and gently push it open, the soft creaking alerting Lucifer to your presence. He looks up from the book he’s reading in bed, quirking a brow upon your appearance.

“…Human?” He questions, but he doesn’t seem unhappy to see you in the slightest.

“What are you doing here? At this hour, no less.” 

“I’m alright,” You assure him, shutting the door behind you, “I just can’t sleep.” 

He gives a nod of understanding. 

“I see. And you think I can help with that?” 

“Mhm,” You reply simply. You walk up to Lucifer’s bedside, not saying anything but silently asking for his attention with just a look. You clutch the blanket you brought to your chest, making your intentions clear. 

Lucifer sighs. 

He looks at you for a long few moments, and you almost think he’s going to say no. 

But then he marks his page, shuts his book, and sets it on the beside table. He opens his arms and pats the bed next to him. 

“Come on.” 

A tired smile breaks out on your face, and you eagerly crawl into bed next to Lucifer. You fit perfectly up against his side, and his warmth is the perfect sense of comfort in the cold HoL. You curl up a bit, trying to get as close to him as possible. He wraps an arm around you as you pull your blanket over yourself, sighing with content when you finally, truly feel like you could fall asleep. 

“…Comfortable?” Lucifer asks. You only nod in reply. You don’t see it, but he smiles at you before he leans down to kiss your head. He reaches over to turn off the lamp before making himself comfortable as well, though he’s careful not to disturb you. 

After a few moments, you feel him stop moving, and your eyes slowly fall shut. 

“Goodnight, Lucifer…” You say softly. 

“Goodnight,” He replies in kind. 

“I love you,” You add without thinking.

And then there’s silence. For a second your eyes open, and you worry that maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. Lucifer inhales slowly before finally giving his answer.

“…I love you too,” He says, giving you a little squeeze. 

You relax completely at that, your eyes shutting one more. You lay there only a moment or two before finally, finally, you can feel yourself falling asleep.

[that-student-that-has-homework]

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Genshin Impact

Rationality of Emotion Chapter 3 (Al-Haitham x Reader)

Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 2600 Estimated Final: ~5000-7000 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2400 - 4000 words

You WILL Have my Herbs Chapter 7 (Diluc x Reader)

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Jujutsu Kaisen

How to Write a Gojo x Reader Part 2

Part 2 to this Summary: Some more insights as to your friendship with Gojo and his adopted children. Gojo also has to deal with the fact that you won't be single forever and he has some things to say before he has to deal with Shibuya. Word Count Stats: Current: 216 word Outline Estimated Final: ~2000 - 4000 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2000 - 3500 words

One Piece

🍉PORTGAS D. ACE🍉

Louder than Words Part 2

Part 2 to this Summary: More fluff with a touch of therapy for Ace Word Count Stats: Current: 3200 words Estimated Final: ~5000 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 1800 words

That Went a Little Too Well  

Summary: You’re being bullied by the local mean girls for thinking Fire Fist was better looking than Cavendish. He’s flattered. Oh yeah, turns out he was actually on the island. Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 300 Estimated Final: ~ 2500 - 4500 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2200 - 3700 words

🍉TRAFALGAR LAW 🍉

Therapeutic

Oneshot + Could be Platonic Summary: The Strawhats rescue a spa worker from slave traffickers. She gives the crew and their guest spa treatments. Needless to say the ever so tense, ever so stressed Captain of the Heart Pirates needs a decent amount of work. Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 740 Estimated Final: ~ 2500 - 4500 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 1760 - 3260 words

🍉RORONOA ZORO🍉

Admiration

Summary: You let slip how you admired Zoro’s commitment to his goals. Now he’s teaching you how to commit to yours. Notes: Fluffy. 1-2 chapters. Unsure if platonic or romantic. Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 260 Estimated Final: ~ 2500 - 4500 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2240 - 3740 words

Haikyuu

I’ll Marry Ya/Marriage Pact Part 2 (Miya Osamu X Reader)

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fem reader inserts

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JJK

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[m1ckeyb3rry]

I was wondering if you could make a part 2 to "the instrument"? I got invested reading it was so sad that it ended :(

I don't rlly know what I'm looking for but I loved the plot of that fic and I wanted to see it progress further (´；д；)

Like, it js ended with him giving her flowers, I wanted to see their love bloom more yknowww ಥ_ಥ

(Also is it weird that I see y/n as her own person?)

Synopsis: You were right from the start — Michael Kaiser has always been a dog, albeit perhaps not in the way you first meant it. (part one here!)

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Kaiser x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4.5k

Content Warnings: fake dating trope, mentioned/implied/referenced abuse (both child and animal), call me tabito karasu the way i assassinate kaiser’s character in this, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…

A/N: EEK i feel like kaiser is so hard for me to do romance with but i tried my best!! and LMAOO this y/n is definitely a very interesting one so i can see why you got that sense 😭 but i’m glad you liked the instrument and ty for requesting 🥹 i hope this is somewhat satisfactory??

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

You are quite certain that your mother was involved in this exercise, considering she’s the only one you can think of with a spare key to your house. So, when your phone call to Michael is sent immediately to voicemail, you don’t hesitate in dialing her number, knowing she’ll pick up immediately, as she always does.

The phone rings only once, and then she’s answering. There are voices in the background that are faint and muffled, which means either she’s watching a new drama or your father is watching some sports game. Then you detect the faint sound of cheers, and you conclude it must be the latter. 

“Hello, Y/N,” your mother says. “Did you need something?”

She is very obviously trying to maintain an air of mysteriousness, as if she has no idea why you might be calling her, but the fact that she is putting on such an act makes it all the more obvious that it is just a facade. You’ve known for many years that your talent onstage is not a genetic one, though it does not stop your parents from pretending that it’s something you inherited from them.

“The flowers,” you say. “You put them there, didn’t you?”

She coughs. You don’t know if she’s disguising a laugh or if she’s just taken aback to that extent. Either way, you give her a moment to compose herself, for it’ll be a mess if you don’t. Your mother is like that, after all. If you inundate her with questions, she’ll respond to exactly none of them, so patience is the only method you have if you wish to obtain any measure of success.

“It wasn’t my own doing,” she says finally. You sigh.

“Of course, someone told you to, and I’m sure we both know who,” you say. “What did he say?”

“He meant well,” she says. “Are you angry with him? He seemed to think you might be. Anyways, he just told me to give them to you. It’s his way of saying sorry, I think. Or perhaps of saying something else. I’m afraid I can’t understand him the way you do. It’s magical, really, how you all but read his mind…”

“No one can read his mind,” you scoff. “He’s a convoluted man, and his thoughts are his own.”

“And you despise him because of that?” she prods, in a way that indicates she already knows the answer and is only asking for her personal satisfaction.

“I love him all the more for it,” you say shortly. Somehow, it’s worse saying it to your mother than it was with him. More real, maybe. Unable to be taken back. You don’t want to take it back, of course, but nevertheless, even if you did, you no longer can. It’s out in the world, now, and the world has a strange humor; it takes things one says even carelessly, without thought, and it turns them into undeniable, inescapable truth. 

“Well,” she says. “That is a predicament.”

“There’s no predicament,” you say.

“He believes there is,” she says. “Right before he left, he—”

“Left?” you repeat. The flowers on your counter are arcing towards the sun, their petals unfurling towards the light pouring from your window. It’s a behavior more typical of flowers other than roses, but these roses are blue and they are Michael’s, so it stands to reason that they behave peculiarly. “Where did he go?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” she says. “He didn’t mention where he was going, just that he had to leave for a bit. But he looked sad. I mean, it’s difficult to tell with him, given how stoic he is, so I don’t know. Don’t take me at my word and start a fight about it.”

This is all you’re going to get out of her. You’re sure of it; there’s a wavering to her voice that signals she’s out of her depth. It’ll be unproductive and all but cruel if you continue to drill her, so you grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut and counting to three in your mind. Frustration is a wasted emotion, especially when the target of your frustration is somewhere far away, gone with nothing but a pot of flowers as a farewell.

That’s what it really is. Not an apology or a confession, but a goodbye. The fact that he thought to do it does mean something, but that meaning doesn’t outweigh the intention. So you make meaningless small talk with your mother and then your father, who she passes the phone to, and as soon as you can, you hang up and call another person, one who might be your only chance at finding the wandering stray that is Michael Kaiser.

Michael doesn’t really have friends, claims he doesn’t need them, but if there is one man who he might deign to bestow that title upon, it is his Bastard München teammate, Alexis Ness. They have been playing together since they were young, and so, if anything, there is an empathy between the two, although Michael will never admit it.

You’ve only met Alexis Ness a few times, at the various events which Michael used to drag you to when your relationship was still in the public eye. He’s never been anything but polite, albeit reserved, and on your third meeting, he gave you his phone number, telling you to call him if you ever ran into trouble. He had left the with Michael unsaid, but the implication had been there. You had thanked him and never called him since.

He’s quick to respond, like he was expecting the call — for all you know, he really was, though you would never ask either way. However, he does not speak first, so there is an awkward pause as you both wait for the other to say something.

“Good morning, Mr. Ness,” you say once a minute has gone by and he still has said nothing. “This is Y/N L/N. You gave me your number once.”

“Ah, Kaiser’s girlfriend,” he says. They have this habit, those soccer players, of referring to each other solely by last name. Your theory is that it’s to create distance, to avoid becoming close to a person who can be stolen by another team at any moment. You can’t fathom any other explanation. It’s a little sad to you, but you try not to judge, because there’s as many or more judgements that can be passed about your own lifestyle and habits.

“Yes,” you say. 

“Are you calling to ask me where he went?” he says. 

“I am,” you say. There’s no point in games. You don’t know Alexis Ness well enough to play them, and he seems to appreciate candidness, so the both of you are blunt in your conversations.

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” he says. “He swore me to secrecy.”

“I see,” you say. It’s disappointing, but it doesn’t come as a surprise. Michael is more than a little paranoid, so of course he took these ridiculous measures to cover his tracks.

“Nothing against you,” he says. “In fact, you should take it as a compliment. It sounded like there’s some messes he needed to clean up before he could bear to face you.”

“He’s horrible at cleaning,” you say.

“I don’t mean literal cleaning,” he says. It’s patient but also mocking. You roll your eyes, a silent form of retribution that he’ll never know of.

“Neither do I,” you say. Alexis Ness exhales heavily. Perhaps you’ve given him a migraine. It’s a particular skill of yours, or so you’ve been told.

“Berlin,” he says.

“Berlin?” you say.

“That’s where he is. If he asks, I’m not the one who told you,” he says, and then he’s ending the call before you can even thank him.

Berlin’s a big city, so Ness’s advice isn’t as helpful as he might’ve thought it would be, but at least it’s a start. Besides, for all his idiosyncrasies, Michael has a few patterns he follows with religiosity, so you tell your agent you’re going on a trip and silence your phone before he can call you and sputter protests about the impromptu nature of the semi-vacation.

The volunteers at the dog shelter tell you that Michael’s been there for the majority of the day. They’ve left him alone because they don’t know what to say; it’s not everyday that a celebrity wanders into such an establishment without so much as a word, and he’s remained relatively harmless, so they’ve continued about their daily business, ignoring him as best as they could when it became obvious he had no interest in speaking to them.

When you enter the kennel room, you find him sitting in front of one with a large hound in it. It has a pointed muzzle, and its tail does not wag at your approach, but it does lift its head and blink at you a couple of times before going back to sleep. 

The cement floor is cold, but still you sit beside Michael, hugging your knees to your chest in a mirror of his position, careful not to touch him, thinking that he is wild enough to flee if you do. The hound lets out a soft breath. You notice that there are pink lines cutting through the black of its fur, marring its wide torso, shiny as the skin does its best to heal.

“She was seized from her owner,” Michael says. “The neighbors called the police one night when things got too loud.”

He’s not looking at you, but it’s obvious you’re the one he meant that statement for, so you shift closer to him, placing one hand on his arm. He flinches the tiniest bit, but when you try to pull away, he reaches up and stops you, holding your hand there, though he still refuses to turn away from the dog.

“Apparently, the guy got drunk and beat her,” he says. “She belonged to his wife, but once his wife died, he became an alcoholic, and that poor dog was the only one there to see it. I’m sure she tried to keep loving him at first, though. Even when she was frightened. Dogs do their best to love you, because they can’t understand that no matter how hard they try, it doesn’t matter. If someone wants to hate them, then all of the love in the world won’t be enough to stop that.”

He’s talking about the dog, but that’s not what he really means. That’s just how he is: he speaks in circuitous riddles to avoid ever saying anything plainly. Flowers and dogs — both are just methods of avoiding what he really wants to tell you.

“We can take her home,” you say. “Give her a different name and a place where she can be happy. Even if something has been hurt before, that doesn’t mean it has to hurt forever.”

His eyes lower, and then he stands, yanking you to your feet. Steadying you when you stumble, he lets go of you abruptly, frowning and turning away from the dog, who is awoken by the suddenness of the movement, flattening her ears against her head and shrinking back.

“She’s frightened of men now,” he says. “Has been ever since she was rescued. Bites every male that comes near her. I can’t blame her. If I were her, I’d do the same. Apparently, that means she’s not really adoptable. Not by us and not by anyone.”

The dog whines plaintively. You offer her the back of your hand through the bars of the kennel. She sniffs it before licking it carefully, and then she thumps her tail against her bed in approval — only one time, though, and then she’s standing, pacing in unhappy circles around the small kennel, which can hardly fit an animal of her size.

“I want her,” you say. “I don’t care if she isn’t adoptable. I want her.”

“Of course you do,” he says. He would sound aggravated, but there is a curious delight dancing in his eyes, a childish sort of joy that so rarely sparkles in those blue irises, so he completely doesn’t. “Of course you want her. You can’t stay away from hurt things, can you? Who told you I was here?”

“No one,” you say. “I figured it out by myself.”

He purses his lips, following after you as you make your way to the front desk. Disapproval rolls off of him in waves, but also something else. Something shriveled and cowering which is fighting desperately to crawl to the surface.

The volunteers are surprised to hear which dog you insist on taking, and they try to convince you to look at any of the more appealing ones — the puppies, or the well-trained retrievers that already have waitlists of potential adopters. You’re an actress, however, so they’ll put you at the top and give you whichever one you want. You tell them you know which one you want already, and eventually they give up on arguing, only frowning as you sign the litany of documents they produce, clicking their tongues and telling you that she’ll be difficult.

You respond that it’s fine. You’re used to difficult things; in fact, you think that you prefer them. They shake their heads and then you are told that your dog — yours, miraculously she is yours — will be ready for you to get her whenever you want.

Michael’s business in Berlin is not yet completed, you can sense it, so you tell them that you will return later and then you chase after his disappearing back, catching him by the sleeve of his coat in a narrow alleyway which leads to a theater.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says. He’s gazing at a poster with a woman on it; she’s beautiful, with elfin features and flowing hair the color of gold. She’s also someone you recognize. “Fuck Ness. I know he told you. I’m going to kill him when I get back.”

“Leave him alone,” you say. “He didn’t tell me anything.”

“Sure,” he says. “Whatever.”

“Do you know her?” you say, pointing at the woman.

“Do you?” he shoots back. He’s crabby now, snapping easily and readily, though you’ve not really done anything to provoke him.

“Yes,” you say. It’s not the answer he had predicted, which you can tell because he whirls to glare at you instead of the movie poster. “Why are you surprised? We’re in the same industry. I was almost in a movie with her a while back, though it fell through because of an issue with the writers. She’s nice enough, I guess. I went to her wedding a couple of years ago, but other than that, I wouldn’t say we’re particularly close.”

“You…went to her wedding?” he says, and then, inexplicably, his fingers are weaving in between yours. It feels like he is holding onto you for something more than affection, so you stand as still as you possibly can, only humming in agreement.

“Yes, I did. Actually, she married her childhood sweetheart, which took everyone by surprise. It was commonly thought that she’d marry one or another of her costars, you see. She’s always been good at creating chemistry…people always say that she can make even a rock seem desirable, that’s how she is,” you say wistfully, leaning your head on his shoulder. He doesn’t shove you away, enraptured by the story. “It’s amazing to watch. But isn’t it kind of sweet? That despite how excellent she is at feigning affection, how she could’ve had any man in the world, she chose the boy from her youth? I remember talking to him. He has nothing, no money or connections or investments. She really just married him because he loves her for who she is.”

“Is love really all she wanted?” he says.

“I suppose it’s all that a lot of people want,” you say. “Rumor has it that she's pregnant.”

He stiffens against you. “What?”

“Well, I think she’s a little old for it, but it’s common for women in my line of work to wait until the signs of age are beyond concealment before they have children, so it’s not a shock,” you say.

“Why?’ he says. 

“It’s the industry’s standards—” you begin before he cuts you off.

“No,” he says. “No, why is she — why does she want — why is she pregnant?”

“Isn’t it common for people to start a family eventually?” you say. “By the way, you never answered my question. Do you know her?”

“She’s my mother,” he says. The words are angry, but his tone is forlorn, his hand in yours cold and small. “But I’m — I’m not her son.”

He looks so wretched that you cannot help embracing him, and when he reciprocates in earnest and without pretense, you know that you have done the right thing. His breaths are fast and shaky, though he is not crying, and as much as you wish you had not said it, you believe deep down that it is important that you did.

Platitudes are meaningless. If you say it’s okay or something along those lines, you will be a liar, because the truth is that it’s not okay. You are not the one who can decide if it’s okay or not. You can only remain as you have been, motionless and gentle, stroking his back in the way one settles a restless infant, allowing his fingers to dig into your sides and his looming weight to collapse into you — for his sharpness is not borne of malice but helplessness, however loath to admit it he might be.

“Why?” he whispers. There’s a million questions he could be asking, and none of them are ones you can ever answer for him, but that will not stop him. “Why couldn’t it be me? Why couldn’t she be happy with me? I would have loved her. I would have been her family.”

“A lot of people don’t deserve children,” you muse. “Or love, or many other such happinesses. And still more people cannot understand the importance of these things when they are within their grasp. Your mother must’ve been very young when she had you. It’s easy to be blinded by stardom and glamor and fairytales at that age. It’s easier still to abandon everything for just a taste of the spotlight. There’s a school of thought that fame is impossible to attain without that necessary sacrifice.”

“What about you?” he says.

“I’m not an exception,” you say ruefully. “Any normal person would have hung up on you when you first called, Michael. I’m only lucky in that it was you and not anyone else on the other end of the line. It’s only because I know you that I realized there are more important things in this world than celebrity and popularity. Once I would’ve spurned the thought of obscurity, but now, if I can have you, then I wouldn’t even mind it so much. It’s the same conclusion your mother must have reached.”

“It’s too late,” he says. “She reached it too late.”

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, she did reach it too late, but it’s easier to give this kind of life up once you’ve known it than to never have it at all. That’s the only reason why. She was greedy, and you bore the consequences.”

“It’s not fair,” he says. You’ve never heard him like this. Normally, he’d laugh at the mere thought of such vulnerability, but the gray of the city has clearly twisted him into a wounded and fragile version of himself, prone to shattering, made of a glass that is already jagged at the edges and can hardly keep together because of it. “It’s not fair, it’s not — I hate her, and I hate him, and I hate her stupid new family, and I —I—”

He silences himself, obviously unsure of what to say, and then he holds your face in his hands, giving you a pleading stare. Help me, he seems to beg. Tell me what to do. He is lost, and somehow you have become a map of sorts, or a compass, one which points in a direction he has no choice but to follow.

“Why did you come here?” you say. “When you knew it would hurt you, why did you come?”

“I wanted to remind myself,” he says. “For a second, you even convinced me that I was worthy of being — you know. So I had to come back. I had to see with my own eyes the kind of person I really am. If my mother and my father and my entire damn city hate me, then why should you be any different?”

He’s scared that he will hurt you, and that you will hurt him, and that he will be alone again, as he has been for much of his life. For all his brashness, his bravado, his smugness and his smooth way of speaking in public, he’s never really been anything more than a little boy who’s frightened, who presses against the back wall of his enclosure like that beaten hound did.

“You know that I am different,” you say. “I am not your mother, nor your father. I will leave everything behind but you. In fact, I’ll leave it for you. Tell me to and I will.”

“What if I tell you to quit acting?” he says.

“Then I will retire at once,” you say. “I already have more money than I know what to do with.”

“And if I tell you to move across the world?” he tries, resting his forehead against yours. “Would you do that, despite your entire life being here?”

“Yes,” you say. “I am quick at making friends and learning new things, so I will adapt to it.”

“What about if I tell you to marry me?” he says. His lips are so close to yours that he is speaking against your mouth, but he doesn’t try to kiss you yet. 

“You wouldn’t ask?” you say.

“I don’t ask for things,” he says.

“Naturally, I’d marry you,” you say. “There isn’t anyone else I’d ever want, anyways. We’d have the most beautiful wedding in the world, and we’d only invite the people we like.”

“That’s a short list,” he says. His heartbeat is calming down; it’s a temporary solution, but if it manages to distract him, then you’ll indulge the flight of fancy.

“My parents,” you say.

“Ness,” he says.

“I always knew you liked him,” you say.

“Only because I have to,” he says.

“Anyone else?” you say.

“No,” he says. “That’s it. We can even forget about all of those people, actually. I just want it to be the two of us. Nobody else matters but — but you.”

He’s stuttering as he comes to his senses. These declarations aren’t typical of him, as foreign as French on his tongue, but he’s making them anyways. He’s been fighting the compulsion for a while, you can tell, but it’s hard for him to keep fighting on all fronts of his life. Eventually, one side will give. You are glad that it is your side, that you are the one he has given to, no matter how reluctantly he has done it.

“Is there anything else you’d like?” you say. “All of these are easy for me to do. Ask for something difficult, so that I may prove to you that I am telling the truth, that I mean what I say.”

“It’s not a request, but a condition,” he says.

“You only need to name it,” you say.

“If I hurt you, then you have to run,” he says. “Run so far away that I can never reach you. Even though it’ll hurt me, I want you to run. Even though I’ll beg for you to stay, please leave.”

That’s it, then. The most difficult thing he can imagine a person doing: leaving someone they love. Certainly he is unable to do it. It doesn’t matter if he’s suffering. He’ll suffer longer just to stay by your side, just as he suffered for all of those many years as a child. 

It’s how you know he loves you more than he’ll ever let on. He holds you in such esteem that he’ll let you leave him if you have to, though it’ll indubitably destroy him, destroy him more than staying could ever destroy you. Yet still he is giving you that permission, commanding it, even, because he’d rather destroy himself than let even the slightest harm befall your being.

You can only draw that conclusion because you know that he will never, can never, hurt you. He isn’t saying this as a warning, because it isn’t an inclination that he has. No, it’s a dark and ugly voice in the back of his mind — does it sound like his father’s? You feel that it must — insisting that he will do it, he will. He’ll hurt you. He’s the reason that his mother left and his father became something sick, and he’ll be the reason that you are broken and ruined and torn apart. He’ll do it. He’ll be the one to do it, it’s inevitable, he’ll scratch you with his thorns and gnaw at your remains with his fangs and maybe he’ll even cry during the act but he’ll still do it.

“Alright,” you say, though you want to protest that he is incapable, because it’s clear that he is testing you. Every argument which might fall from your lips, he has heard before, and if you dare utter them one more time, it’ll be the proof that you are lying. The way his thoughts work, the paths that they follow, they are winding and narrow, but perhaps your mother is right — perhaps you are coming to understand them.

“Do you think that I can?” he says.

“No,” you say. “The fact that you worry about it tells me that you won’t. You are better than that, Michael.”

“You really believe that?” he says. “With everything you are, you believe it?”

“I do,” you say.

You almost can’t believe it, but he laughs. Well, calling it a laugh is generous, it’s really more of an exhale, yet one which is unquestionably seeping with amusement, and you’re about to ask him what he finds so funny when he was so close to breaking down mere moments earlier, but he stops you before you can.

“I do,” he says. It’s an odd thing to repeat, but a second later your mind registers why he’s done it, and then the corners of your lips are curving up.

In the streets of Berlin, the two of you are alone; his mother’s poster is your only witness, but if she takes some offense, she remains smiling and silent, her gaze far away as her son — who isn’t her son, he isn’t hers at all, he’s yours and only yours — finally closes the minuscule gap between you both and kisses you fully.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Precocious 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, arranged marriage, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your family expects you to marry, but you don't expect to be happy.

This is part of the Three Sisters for Three Misters AU (this reader is know as Chicky)

Characters: Jonathan Pine

Note: And here we go.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Heart racing, breath like fire, air stolid as beads of sweat speckle your scalp. There is only the moment. Only one shot. This is it. You have your target in sight. You squint down the barrel of the rifle and narrow your focus. 

One, two-- 

Cheep, cheep, cheep-cheep-cheep. The melodic tweeting of birds sounds from your single airpod. You sigh and steady the gun. You press down on the earbud to dismiss the incoming call. You reset your shot and follow the unwitting target as they twist and turn, searching for their adversary. For you. 

You take the shot. Right between their shoulder blades. You smile at the splatter of yellow paint across their vest. They stagger and twirl around in disappointment. They harrumph and toss down their gun.  

“Ah damn it!” Mackenzie stomps his foot. “Bull shit.” 

You point the barrel in the sky as you emerge from your perch, “don’t be a sore loser, Mack.” 

“Whatever,” he pouts. 

The tweeting starts again. You reach to tap the bud, this time answering the call. You kick through the dirt as the other players disburse. Game’s over. Back to reality.

“Howdy,” you trill as check the canister on your gun. Almost a full round left. It’s not how much you shoot, it’s where. 

“Where are you?” Your mother snips.  

“Hm,” you raise your wrist as you sling the strap of your gun around your shoulder. You tug back your sleeve to check your fitbit. “I’m not late.” 

“What do you mean you’re not late? Where did you go?” 

“Mom, I’ll be there,” you huff. “With bells on.” 

“Oh, trust me. I will hunt you down,” she sneers. “You will be here in one hour. Dressed. Acceptably.” 

You roll your eyes. You prefer it when she can’t see it. You love her, you know she means best, but you’re an adult. You agreed to her demands so why is she so rude? 

“I will, mom. I’ll even put a bow on,” you giggle. “Anywho, time to claim my prize. Ta.” 

You hang up without waiting for her no doubt scathing retort. You stride up to turn in the gun and your helmet. The gloves and boots are your own and your trademark hot pink outfit is custom-made. You get a voucher for free round of play and another medallion claiming you as champion.  

Your mom chides you often, says it’s a child’s game. Well, if she insists on treating you as one, you may as well be one. You stop and chat with a few of your competitors, some of them regulars, others just out for a day of fun. The older men aren’t very talkative. Not even a congrats on your win. 

Oh well. You try not to let the unhappiness of men rule your world. If you did, you would never do anything at all. Besides, you’ve sacrificed enough. You promised your father you’d behave and that you would show up for dinner. Well, that’s just the beginning of the agreement. 

You strip off your canvas and jacket and change out of your dirty pink jeans. You pull on a pair of lululemon flares and a loose white tee, sheltered only by your car door. Your mother would be scandalised to see it. You cackle and shove everything in your trunk. 

You blast some 90s pop for the drive. It amps you up and wards off the dread of what awaits you at home. As you drive up to the gate of your family estate, you turn down the music. You stop your out-of-tune singing and push your shoulders back. This is the real battleground. 

You pull into the garage, parking in the empty spot between your father’s lexus and your mother’ cadillac. You keep your head down as you get out. You near the interior door and ease it open. You listen to the house. You hear the flurry of the kitchen staff and all those others brought in to prepare for dinner. 

Sigh, your whole life has been parading around for company. 

You peek through the east doorway of the kitchen. Your mother screeches as she demands that the dessert be redone. You duck across and hurry upstairs. 

You swing yourself into your room and sigh. You take out the dress hand-picked by your mother. She gave you options and you bartered something cute. She wasn’t happy about the length but the faux petals around the neckline convinced her. You just love that it’s pink! 

You drape the hanger from the handle of the drawer on your vanity and look in the mirror. You take out a face wipe and clean your face of the residue of sweat and dust. You wish you could have stayed for the afternoon matches but responsibility calls. 

You begin your usual process. Primer, concealer, foundation. As you blend, there’s a tapping at the door. You recognise the melodic rhythm. You whistle back and your eldest sister enters. She’s already done up, all but her lips. She wears a burgundy robe and matching slippers with pearls. 

“There you are,” Kestral says. “Mother’s been squawking all day.” 

You look at her in the mirror and shrug. She looks down her nose at you. She has the same imperious expression as your father. If you didn’t know better, you’d be scared. 

She laughs and puts her hands on her hips. “Please, let me do your hair so she doesn’t tear it out.” 

“If you want,” you shrug, not very bothered by the task. You’ll make do. 

“Oh,” Kestral nears, “that dress is so you.” 

She touches the fluttery portrait neckline. She’s a bit more sophisticated, a lot less flowery. You dab on some blush and smear it with your fingers until it looks natural. 

“What about Wren? She’s usually much more elusive than me?” You ask. 

“Oh, yes. She took her nose out of her book for five seconds to get the witch off her back,” she takes the wide toothed comb and starts from your ends. “Even after a lifetime, she can’t really accept that this is what we were born for. I worry for her but she locked her door.” 

“And probably climbed the window,” you snort. 

“Always the most clever of us,” Kestral agrees. She’s silent as she untangles your hair. “Are you nervous?” 

Her eyes meet yours in the mirror. You shrug and hold off on the eyeliner. You’ll let her figure out your hair before that. 

“Strangers, aren’t they? But mother and father were too.” 

“Mm, and look how well that turned out. I don’t think they’ve been alone together since right before you were born,” she scoffs. 

“Likely not. But... mother says the men are well-bred. Polite.” 

“Frigid,” Kestral grins. “You must read between the lines. That is how society talks. They never say the truth, the toe around it until it kicks you in the teeth.” She takes a pin and secures it in your hair. “I’ve asked around but people never talk about interesting things, do they?” 

“No, not really.” You make a face at her in the mirror, a clownish smile, “am I pretty, sister? Will mother approve of me?” 

She chortles and shakes her head, “oh, it will be quite the night, won’t it?” 

“Don’t act as if I will be the only menace. And I’m not so worried about mother, as she shouldn’t be of us. We have to impress these men, not her, right?” 

“Impress? Well, I shouldn’t need to try for that. He can win me over. Tradition and all,” she drones. 

The door clicks behind her and you both give a start. You turn as Wren stands against the door, her eyes wide and her hair as unwieldy as ever. So much as she tries to tame it, it has a will of its own. Despite her reticence, she is much the same. 

“I saw one,” she says. 

“Saw one?” You echo. 

She hushes you and comes forward. She’s in a plum sweater and linen pants. Her glasses are tangled in her hair and crooked. She has a book under her arm. 

“He’s tall. Blonde. Look,” she points to the window. You and Kestral share a look before you rise. You follow her to the window Wren remains by the vanity. 

“Oh, wow, isn’t that typical?” Kestral drawls, “an antique car. Well, Wren, you should hope he’s yours then. By the looks of it, he’ll spend more time with that beast than you.” 

She squeaks and flutters around behind you. She’s always been the softest spoken of you all. Reserved but willful. Most wouldn’t guess it, but she’s rather funny when she wants to be. 

“Mm, he has manners. He is chatting rather intently with Reginald.” 

“Yes, Reginald can be rather chatty,” Wren murmurs. Sometimes, she is too honest. 

“Well, Kes,” you turn away from the window and lean against the wall, “you said you asked around. What did you hear?” 

“Like I said, gossip is rarely useful,” she sighs and retreats. “Mine, Conrad... he’s not much history in ‘society’,” she emphasizes the last word with her fingers. “From what I’ve gathered, he comes from a well to do family. I heard more of his brother than him. Frustratingly mysterious.” 

She crosses her arms and sits on your bed, “then there’s Laufeyson, Wren’s match. He does have quite the reputation. A tricky man. I’m not entirely sure why mother and father chose him but no offense, Wrenny, you are a middle child.” 

“Mm, I’d say better than no one but no one sounds rather nice,” she mutters. 

You laugh. She really is so silly. 

“And me?” You prompt. 

“Pine. Proper gentleman by my measure. Never a toe out of line. No mystery, no scandal. He sounds like he was created in a factory.” 

“Boring?” You comment. 

“I wouldn’t expect any of them to be more than,” she examines the crimson tips of her manicure. “But we should try to pretend they are interesting.” 

“Forever,” you utter. 

“Forever...” she agrees dully. “So is our lot, yes? We must make the best of it. Get through tonight, then the wedding, and when all is said and done, we can still be us.” She leans back and crosses one leg over the other. “I’ll take Lottie with me. She’s a loyal stead and I’ll need something fun to ride.”  

She gives a wink and you giggle. Wren squeaks and rocks bashfully. 

“Wren, you can take all your books and add a thousand more to your shelves. You could build yourself a castle and lock yourself away to read forever,” she says, “and Chicky,” she looks at you, “you can just be you. Go out shooting or dancing or shopping. As long as our duty is met, we will be free. Truly. No more mother, no more father. We will laugh in their faces and say ‘no’.” 

“I hope you’re right,” you turn back to peer out the window. 

The blond man stands below. His brow suit is sleek and tailored. Even from there, you can tell it is cut of fine material. He looks up as you peer down and you think for a moment he sees you. You flinch and draw back behind the curtain, tugging it across the pane. 

“I do too,” Kestral agrees. “Think of it this way, we want out of this house. This is how we get out. Then we have our own titles, our own rights, and our husbands, well, they can have their own hobbies.” 

You nod and go back to the mirror. You sit and look at yourself. You want to believe Kestral. She’s never been an optimist but she’s just so desperate to get away, she’ll believe her own lies. You want to think this is an escape, yet you can only see things staying the same. You’ll still be putting on a mask. Still living to someone else’s standards. 

[gatheredfates]

POSES. It happened! ✨

I made a smaller post this morning, but I am super pleased to announce that Tumblr's moderation has approved SEAFLOOR as a Community! We're live, baeby!

If you don't know what a Community is, you can check out Tumblr's post about it here.

If you are interested in joining, I will copy/paste the information contained on the Community's pinned post in the read more below, as you won't see it otherwise (outside of joining). I'd like to kindly request that if you are already a member of the Community to not like this post (it just saves me doubling up) but please reblog it to spread the word!

Welcome to SEAFLOOR! This a Community run by myself, Sea (@gatheredfates), as an offshoot of the identically named Discord server aimed to contain both my personal projects and promote member-created content. If you would still like to keep up to date with my projects, interact with members of my community, and generally enjoy xiv content without the pressure of a Discord, this is the place!

This server has mandatory tags that MUST be used for spoilers. A general rule of thumb is the most recent patch/live letter is considered spoiler content and must be marked accordingly; as well as major spoilers for the most recent expansion. If it doubt, it always pays to tag. Please mind the following:

#dawntrail spoilers

#7.0. spoilers (will likely come into effect for 7.1 to differentiate from general Dawntrail spoilers, but you can tag for both!)

#liveletter spoilers

Much like my Discord, there are some house rules I want to put in place first for first-time users. Please familiarise yourself with the below. This post is pinned; you can't claim you haven't seen it. A lot of these are near-identical to the server rules, but I'll be no-less forceful in implementation if they are not adhered to.

If I'm being entirely honest, moderation past Community maintenance is something I do not want to engage with, so I will be intervening only when it is entirely necessary and will be harsh in my implementation. Therefore, if you don't think you can conduct yourself in a healthy, adult manner, do not join. Some of these rules may seem 'harsh' but are the product of me making clear boundaries in what I will expect, tolerate and foster. I will not hesitate to curate where I feel it is necessary.

I believe in the age-old phrase "Be excellent to each other," and that underpins every rule featured below. If in doubt, refer back to this mantra.

This Community is strictly 21+ only. This is to keep in line with my personal boundaries regarding minors. It's nothing personal, I just don't have time to moderate for a younger audience.

Common-sense rules apply. Do not break Tumblr's ToS, spoiler/content warm where appropriate and sensible, and don't be rude/harass people in the comments. Just because a rule isn't explicitly stated doesn't mean you have full reign to do the thing.

Intolerance (namely racism, homophobia, transphobia, etc.) will not be tolerated. If you don't like it, the back button is free.

Due to this being a predominately XIV focused Community, dark themes will present due to subject manner explored in the game. I will not enforce mandatory tags/censors outside of patch/expansion spoilers; I just ask that people use their common sense and consider peoples' safety and mental wellbeing when posting work(s). If you do not warn appropriately or mock/ignore requests for things to be censored/warned, you will be removed.

As Communities are in their infancy, rules may be amended/adjusted to better fit this space's purpose as time goes on. While I will attempt to make these changes obvious, please check back on occasion just in case. "I didn't know," is not a valid excuse.

HOKAY, now that the serious of the rules are out of the way, you might be wondering to yourself, "Sea, what can be posted?" I'm glad you asked! ✨ First and foremost, as I do not encourage secular spaces, please make sure all content has originated from a public tumblr blog. I want to encourage people to reach out, interact and follow other people, not just stick to this space! Beyond that, I accept:

Screenshots (gpose), writing, art, think pieces and other xiv content created by members. You can tag these with #gpose, #writing, #art, etc.

Resource gathering similar to what is featured in the Discord server including resources, prompts, commissions, etc. You can tag these with #resources, #prompts, #WoLQoTD, #commissions, #other, etc. These do not have to be created by members in the community.

Event, character profiles, looking for content/rp/free companies and more! You can tag these with #events, #character profile, #lfc, #lfr, #free company, etc. These do not have to be created by members in the community.

Links to lodestone posts/dev commentary and other official posts provided they are tagged correctly. You can tag these with #lodestone.

Anything you've created in response to my projects! You can tag these as #sea's character questions OR whatever the event is at the time (for example, Down to Dawntrail posts can be tagged as #(count)down to dawntrail)! I will try to reblog anything that I am tagged in if the owner doesn't reblog it here.

Anything xiv related that isn't covered here but you think is in line with the spirit of this community and what I'm trying to foster. Please DM me if you're unsure.

[juniperss]

Hi Dana! I am once again begging for a Dick Winters HC! Maybe what its like to cuddle w him

I'm here by dubbing you "Winters Anon" and I hope that's okay!!

a/n these headcanons, as with all my writing for BoB, are based on the fictional portrayal of the characters. Headcanon requests are open, please check my rules in my pinned post to see who I’m currently writing for💞

Okay so my hot take is that I don't think that Dick is really good at cuddling. Not because he's against the act or because he's not absolutely amazing to snuggle up next to, but because this man has places to be and things to do. He likes to be moving and cuddling is something that he really only considers when he's done for the day.

So because of that, I think he prefers evening cuddles after dinner and getting ready for bed/settling down for the evening once the dishes are done and the food is put away. Sometimes you can get away with morning cuddles if he wakes up early, if the weather is too poor for his morning walks, or if he doesn't have plans that require his attention.

It's not that he doesn't want to cuddle, he does! He's just very much a schedule and plan orientated man. He wants to present in his time with you that's why he prefers the cuddle time to occur when his mind can be at ease.

NOW! Once you two are cuddling? *cracks knuckles* There are 3 types of cuddling and each one occurs/starts in a different way so let's go through it!

Couch Cuddles: typically start with one of you sitting up on the couch reading a book or working on something else while the other curls up into the first. 9/10 it's going to be you who is doing the curling into, but that's okay because Dick just kinda lifts his arm for you to rest your head on his chest or on his lap before settling it back over you. If he's reading when you do this, he might read out loud to you (guaranteed if you ask) or talk about the book. If he was working on a crossword (you can pry crossword loving Dick Winters out of my cold dead hands) or something else, he asks for your help with it or sits in silence.

Bed Time Cuddles: as mentioned above this guy has a schedule and set list of things to do each day and one of those parts of his routine is bed time cuddles with you. Once the two of you are both in bed he loves to wrap both arms around and hold onto you. One hand stays holding you to him while the other runs over your back, arms, or plays with your fingers. Mr. "Tell Me About Your Day" has already asked you about how your day was, probably during dinner, but Bed Time Cuddle Session always has him asking you about it again. These are the times when you two tend to discuss deeper topics, dreams or fears and plans for what you both want.

Early Morning Cuddles on a Rainy Day: These cuddles are special because they're not every day. Dick wakes up to get ready for his morning walk, but sees that the rain is pattering against the glass of the window a little too hard for him to justify going out for a stroll and so he rolls over and wraps his arm around your waist and rests his back on his pillow to lay with you a little longer. You'll start to feel his fingers in your hair or running along the side of your arm. He's not intentionally trying to wake you up or anything, but if you're a light sleeper, this will probably wake you up. It's nice though, to turn over and smoosh your face against his chest and breathe him in. The blankets are warm from the night sharing the bed and the sound of the rain lulls you back to sleep in tandem with Dick's steady breathing. These are quiet cuddles, he doesn't ask questions or talk about the day. He just soaks you in.

SMOOCHES ON YOUR NOSE AND ON YOUR NECK. Smooches your nose at bedtime, your temple if you're cuddled up on the couch, and your neck and shoulders in the morning.

He smells like fresh linen. Mixed with coffee or tea if you're cuddling on the couch. Mixed with the mint of toothpaste if your two are cuddling at bedtime. In the morning he's got morning breath, but honestly, it's worth it to wake up to that smile of his. Also still smells like fresh linen.

He's got so many freckles that you'll be quite busy trying to count them or running your fingers over them. He really loves watching your fingers move and will focus his attention of them during cuddling. He likes to keep his hands busy too, usually trailing them over your body or playing with your hair. He just likes to feel you there and he's memorizing every part of you.

[acewritesfics]

Mrs. Detective Jay Halstead | JAY HALSTEAD

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Request: from @/runnning-outof-time for a celebration from my main account.

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: Fluff. A little cringy PDA not from Jay and Reader. Reader has a younger half-sister named Annie (if that’s your name you can change it to something else) and Annie has a boyfriend called Daniel. Annie and Daniel are both 18.

Word Count: 1,438

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP

As they sit across from her younger sister Annie and her boyfriend Daniel, who are clumsily making out, Y/N looks at Jay, embarrassed. Jay returns her gaze with the same expression, feeling exactly what his girlfriend and partner is feeling. Dinner had been going well, Y/N and Jay were getting to know Daniel well and both concluded that he seemed like a good kid. He seemed to really care for Annie. He talked to her respectfully, treated her nicely and didn't have any sort of criminal record - Jay had checked before the double date. 

It wasn't until the teens decided the middle of the restaurant, they are currently at would make a good make out spot when things took a turn becoming awkwardly uncomfortable for the older couple. 

Jay returns his attention to the younger couple and clears his throat, forcing the two teenagers to finally stop swapping spit. 

"Sorry," Annie apologizes awkwardly, her cheeks heating up as she looks down at her hands. Daniel beams as he takes one of Annie's hands in his. 

"Why did we agree to this again?" Jay whispers into Y/N's ear before kissing the side of her head.  

"It was something I agreed to. Like the sweetheart that you are, you went along with it," she also whispers. Looking at him, she sends him a quiet apology while placing her hand on his upper thigh and kisses his cheek. She knows she'll be making this up to him later. Jay needed a lot more persuasion than she did. Y/N returns her gaze to the teenagers and manages to smile. She intervenes just as the two teenagers lean in for another kiss. 

"So, Daniel, what are your plans after high school?" She inquires, making her feel more like a parent than a sister, as she did most of the time. 

Annie was the result of her father's affair with his then-23-year-old intern. Their father and the intern eloped the day after the divorce papers were signed by Y/N's mother, and they are still married to this day as far as she knows. Y/N has been raising Annie since she was seven years old, when her father and Annie's mother dropped her off with a bag of clothing and her favorite toy. The two L/N women hadn't heard from, spoken too, or seen them since.  

It took Y/N months to acquire full custody, but with the help of her mother and intelligence, particularly Jay, who became Y/N's partner a year after she won custody, she was able to raise Annie to be the wonderful young lady she is now. 

"I've decided to take a gap year. I'll be travelling with Annie and some of our friends," Daniel replies, hesitantly glancing between Y/N and Jay. He was clearly attempting to make a good impression on the two.  

"I did that as well," Y/N says, smiling, happy that Annie will have others with her. Her maternal instinct would rather the 18-year-old do her gap year in Chicago so she's close to home, but Annie had worked her ass off for this since she was 14 and saving what money she earned from babysitting the apartment complexes kids. Y/N knows she can't stop her and there would be no point in trying. She did lay down a few ground rules though. "It is the third best thing I've ever done." 

"What are the first two?" Annie wonders aloud, her attention drawn to her sister. 

"The first one is choosing to raise you," Y/N takes a sip from her drink, beaming proudly at her little sister, who was more like her daughter, before turning to Jay and smiling warmly at her partner of ten years and boyfriend of five years. "And the second is being more than just partners with this man." 

The two detectives began working for intelligence at the same time and were assigned as partners on their first day. It had taken them five years of walking around one other, attempting to ignore their feelings for one another that only seemed to grow stronger by the day. It only took a meeting in New York for the two to move from being work partners to also becoming partners in everything else. 

Jay lifts her hand away from his leg and presses a delicate kiss to the back of it. "I love you." 

"I love you too," she says, leaning in to kiss him. 

Returning their attention to the teenagers across from them, they see that the two have gone back to their making out session. 

"Do you think they'll notice if we leave?" Y/N ponders out loud. After dinner, Annie isn't going home with them. She and Daniel are going to see the latest superhero movie with some of their friends from school. 

"Honestly, I don't think they will," Jay answers, rising to his feet and withdrawing his wallet from his pocket, taking out some money and placing it on the table to pay for dinner. 

Y/N stands and circles the table, taking Jay's hand in hers as they leave the little restaurant and return to their apartment. 

Y/N closes and locks the door behind her as she follows Jay into their apartment. She walks into their bedroom to change into something more comfortable. She intended to spend the remainder of their night on the couch, curled up beside Jay, watching whatever horrible movie was on TV at the time. Jay walks up behind her as she is removing her earrings, wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her shoulder. 

"I'm sorry about Annie and Daniel," she mumbles as she leans back in his arms. There was no place she preferred to be more than in Jay's arms. 

"We were both 18 once," he reminds her, disregarding her apology.  

"I don't remember ever having dinner with my sister while making out with my boyfriend in front of her," she says. "They could have toned it down a lot." 

"It's new and exciting for them," he adds as he kisses her shoulder once again. 

"I know," she sighs as she looks at him in the mirror. "But I'm still sorry. How can I make it up to you?" 

"First and foremost, you must promise me that you will never agree to another double date with those two again," he states as he stares at her through the mirror. 

"I promise," she asserts. "You said first. Is there anything else I can do?" 

"Maybe you could, I don't know, spend the rest of your life with me as your husband?" he shrugs his shoulders, with an apprehensive look in his eyes. 

He takes a step back, and she quickly spins on her heel to face him, a surprised look on her face, "Are you finally asking me to marry you?" 

"I am," he says as he walks over to his dresser, opens the top drawer and reaches inside. 

He closes the drawer after pulling out the ring box and returns to her with the ring box open. "So, what do you think? Would you want to become Mrs. Jay Halstead?" 

She looks down at the ring seeing two smaller princess cut diamonds on either side of a beautiful oval cut diamond. It was simple but elegant and she loved it just as much as she loves him. She grins lovingly at him, barely holding her excitement as she accepts his proposal, tears welling up in her eyes. "How about Mrs. Detective Jay Halstead?" 

Jay's smile spreads from ear to ear as he takes the ring from the box, slides it on her finger, and pulls her into a passionate kiss. 

"Annie won't be home until tomorrow morning, which gives us plenty of time to celebrate," Y/N mentions as she breaks the kiss way too soon for Jay's liking. 

He chews his bottom lip and appears to be thinking about it as his fingers run up her back to the back of her neck before reaching for and pulling down the zip at the back of her dress. "Let's not waste any more time." 

She smiles, bringing him in for another kiss as she reaches up to unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders. His hands travel to the straps of her dress and slide them down her arms, allowing the dress to fall into a black pool on the floor before lifting her up and carrying her to their bed. 

"I love you, Detective Jay Halstead," she murmurs quietly, breaking the kiss to let them breathe for a moment. 

"And I love you, Mrs. Detective Jay Halstead," he chuckles, kissing her again. 

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Before He Cheats | Dagger Squad Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: female pilot!reader x Dagger squad (platonic), reader x ex!oc (past romance)

Content Warnings: angst, cheating, profanity, ends with sweet revenge | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 3.8k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: One thing about cheaters, they’re always gonna get caught. Whether right when it happens or years down the road the truth always comes out. And one thing they should realize is revenge is a dish best served cold.

Note: I finally finished my first year of grad school!!! Fucking finally people. Now I can relax and get to the drawing board. I already have visions and outlines for all current requests in my inbox and be sure to check out my April/May upcoming works and my pinned works in progress for what’s coming and posted! Thank you for your patience and to the anon who requested this I hope you liked it!

Also y’all….is there like some freaky shit going on with the universe and my works 💀 cause three days after I posted Lover inspired by Taylor swift she and her man of 8 years broke up and now I’m posting a cheater imagine (this request is from end of February) when there’s stuff going about Glen 👀 this is just freaky now

—————

Friday night at the Hard Deck consisted of a full house ready to kick off the weekend with beer and music. For a few years now Y/n had been working at the bar serving drinks and singing from 8pm to 9 as a way to make extra cash while her college sweetheart Ryan, who was a Lieutenant Junior Grade, was stationed at Miramar. Having not been married despite being a couple for so long, Y/n lived off base with some roommates while her boyfriend stayed in the dorms, however, he’d come to her place after work and stayed on weekends.

It was rare to see a military couple not be the stereotypically, “we got married right after I commissioned so my partner can be my dependent and travel with me when I get orders.” No, that wasn’t Y/n and Ryan. After Ryan’s commission Y/n stayed to finish up her Master’s at the University of Miami where they met while he was sent to Japan for two years. Then he was stationed in Virginia, followed by Lemoore, and now he was at Miramar. The longest base he’d been at. Y/n had been with him in Virginia, but didn’t move to Lemoore as she had a three-year contract with her job at the University of Virginia.

Toward the end of his two years at Lemoore, Y/n called Y/n to inform her he was being stationed at North Island and the contract was to be at least five years. Wanting to be close to him after being apart for so long and filled with hope they’d finally settle after Ryan hits ten years in the Navy, Y/n transferred to the University of California San Diego as the history of music professor. She also took on a part-time job as a bartender Friday and Saturday since she was only teaching two sections that occurred on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Plus Penny allowed her to sing Friday nights as an added bonus knowing she loved music.

Y/n settled rather quickly in North Island. With her two jobs she developed a friendly social circle consisting of the UCSD staff on campus and regulars at the Hard Deck. Several of the aviators took a liking to her. They knew Ryan and would often meet up every Friday after work to catch up on the week and watch her sing. Y/n always had their rounds ready the moment they walked in, “got ya seven cold ones.”

“Already?”

“The newbie over there didn’t read the sign. Round’s on him.”

They’d cheer Y/n on when she sang, literally the loudest bunch in the whole bar. “Sing it girl!”

“Ariana ain’t got nothing on you!

Phoenix sometimes sat at the bar when she needed to get away from the guys. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Penny gave me the night off since I got papers to grade…but If I get done early I’ll be free.”

“Please, I am in need of a girls night. Hell I’ll even come help you grade if you tell me what to do.”

“Damn, Nat, were the guys too much this week?” She placed another beer in front of the pilot, removing the empty one to discard. “This one’s on me. You look like you need it.”

“You have no idea, Y/n. All week we’ve been training for an upcoming mission and they’ve been driving me nuts.”

Ryan had his own group of friends from the base who’d come toward the later hours of the night. They’d usually take up the space at the bar, Ryan greeting Y/n with a kiss and telling her how the day was. He’d nurse a couple beers before he and Y/n would retreat to her apartment when the place closed at eleven.

They’d been together for several years, coming up on their eighth anniversary when Y/n discovered his infidelity.

And it wasn’t just a one-and-done “I was drunk and stupid, she doesn’t mean anything,” type of deal. No, this was a long going affair lasting almost a year.

What was the kicker? The other woman was a married coworker of his.

Now Y/n may have had the reputation of being the sweet, down to earth, understanding person who would never hurt a fly. But as soon as her eyes landed on Ryan, her partner of eight years, shoving his throat down another woman’s throat while grabbing her ass like it would vanish from thin air…..she saw red. Kill Bill sirens blasting in her mind. Y/n wanted to ruin both of them seeing she wasn’t the only person betrayed. The woman’s husband was also being deceived.

And what was punishment for adultery and extramarital sexual conduct? Well, according to the Uniform Code of Military Justice those in the military who are married or have affairs with married personnel are dishonorably discharged, forfeited of all pay and confined for one whole year.

Was it harsh? Maybe some would see it that way. But cheaters need to be taught a lesson.

And Y/n was gonna make sure they got it.

For a whole week Y/n put on a brave face. Accumulating photographs and screenshots of text messages, emails, and bank statements to show proof of the affair and how long it had been going on. She secretly got in touch with the husband of the Lieutenant Ryan was sleeping with, presenting him with everything. Heartbroken and angry, he agreed to remain quiet until the meeting Y/n had set up on that following Friday with their partner's supervisor.

“I know this is a lot to ask,” she exhaled, tired from everything and having to act like she was fine. “But come Friday they’ll be faced with the consequences of their actions. I’m sorry you’re having to go through this as well.”

“It’s not your fault—you’re not the one who cheated on me. You’re the one who found out and had the decency to tell me. We both got screwed,” he rubbed his face with his hands, wedding ring flashing under the light. When it caught his eyes all he could do was glare at it. “The only thing making this somewhat bearable is the fact they’re gonna be hit with the ultimate blindside.”

Y/n nodded to his ring, “What are you gonna do?”

“I’m contacting a divorce lawyer once I leave here. Hopefully the papers will be drawn up quickly so I can bring them to the meeting. Make it a double whammy. You?”

Y/n threw back the rest of her gin & tonic, letting out another tired sign, “I booked a flight to Cabo. Spring break is next week so I’m gonna take a well needed week long vacation and then figure it out from there.” Sunny skies with margaritas and radio silence seemed to be the best therapy at the moment.

For the next three days Y/n maintained a strong façade. Whenever Ryan went to kiss her she’d kept it short or moved to where his lips hit her cheek. She continued to send screenshots to her phone and delete the conversations so he wouldn’t notice. When she surprised him at work for lunch the day before the meeting it really threw both the cheaters off.

“Y/n,” his eyes went wide, “what are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d surprise you for lunch,” she held up a bag of homemade stir fry, bidding a glance at the woman who also was white a sheet. “Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Y/n.”

“Becca.”

“Becca,” she repeated, a smile tight on her lips. While doing so she gave an obvious glance to Becca’s ring finger, finding the diamond. “Beautiful ring you’ve got there. Are you engaged?” Becca became flustered, but kept calm.

“Married.”

“Ah, your husband has a great eye for jewelry. You’re so lucky.”

Ryan was quick to cut the conversation short after the mention of Becca’s husband. Visibly uncomfortable with how Y/n was throwing their aldurty in their face despite not knowing she was aware of it.

The next day Y/n marched into their superiors office, dressed like a corporate CEO ready to fire the entire team for an unforgivable mistake, with two boxes on each arm. One filled with all the evidence of Ryan and Becca’s affair, the other containing all of Ryan’s belongings he had at Y/n’s apartment. Becca’s husband, Tim arrived a minute later with a folder of divorce papers in his hands.

They met with the supervisor first. Y/n introduced who she was and who Tim was, presenting the box of evidence and explained while the Captain shuffled through the papers. Visibly disgusted, the Captain thanked Y/n for bringing it to his attention and promised the adults he would handle the rest.

“Are you calling them in right now?” She asked.

“I was planning to this afternoon, why?”

“I’d like to be present if you don’t mind,” a hand came up to the other box she had, “These are his things and frankly, I want to see the look on his face.”

“Me too,” Tim piped up and waved the folder in his hands. “These need to be served to Becca.”

The supervisor simply shrugged and said, “if that’s what you want, fine by me.” He hit a button on his phone, “Wilkins, please inform Lieutenants Stevens and Leeds they need to report to my office immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” Though her heart was racing, Y/n remained poised and took a seat against the wall of the room. Tim sat beside her, both setting their gaze on the door to await their soon to be exes.

Roughly ten minutes later, a knock on the door sounded and the Captain gruffly said, “enter.” The door opened to reveal Ryan, whose eyes went straight to his superior before scanning the room ultimately resulting in him to freeze where he stood. Turning white as a sheet, Y/n could only imagine what was running through her ex boyfriend’s mind. There was great satisfaction seeing his eyes flicker from her to Tim to the Captain.

“Have a seat, Lieutenant,” the older gentleman's finger pointed to the seat in front of his desk. It seemed to snap Ryan from his daydream, the man stumbling into the room and unable to form words.

When he sat the first thing he tried to say was her name to which the Captain voiced, “I didn’t say you could speak, Lieutenant. Keep quiet, we’re waiting on one more before we get started.”

Becca’s reaction was pretty much the same when she arrived two minutes later. “T-tim,” she stuttered, red as a tomato and fear etched on her face.

“Rebecca,” his tone was blank, matching his expression. Just the full name combined with the parties in the room indicated to Becca she was about to have the worst day of her life.

But hey, maybe she shouldn’t have cheated then.

And Ryan? Mans was shitting bricks where he sat. Couldn’t even bring himself to look at Becca when she sat in the chair beside him. He kept trying to plead to Y/n with his eyes but she wasn’t having it.

The Captain got right to it. He laid out all the evidence on the desk for the two to see, Becca immediately breaking into tears while Ryan tried to explain. What could he explain though? How could he defend a year long affair with a married coworker in front of her husband, longtime girlfriend and superior.

When it came time for the Captain to discuss where to go from there, Y/n excused herself by dropping the box of Ryan’s things into his lap, “Here’s all your shit,” it nearly spilled onto the floor when the action surprised him. “Don’t call, text, show up at my place or at the bar tonight otherwise I’ll call the cops. I’m done with you, Ryan. Thanks for wasting eight fucking years of my life.”

“Wait, Y/n, please—,” she cut him off when he went to stand.

“You’ve not been dismissed yet,” that got him to freeze, noticing the Captain smirking in the corner of her eye. She turned to Tim, “Thanks for your help. Good luck with everything and I hope it works in your favor.” Becca gasped, realizing what the folder in Tim’s hand represented. It spurred on another wave of tears.

“Thanks,” he gave a tired smile, “And good luck to you.” With that Y/n was out the door and Ryan was out of her life. First thing she did was go home, change, and drive to the Hard Deck. Penny immediately poured a glass for her, “long day?” Y/n accepted the beer with a nod.

“Glad it's almost over.”

“What happened?”

Y/n felt the tears welling in her eyes. The emotions she had been holding the past two weeks had finally broken free. Concern formed on Penny’s face. “Ryan was cheating on me for the past year.”

“No,” the woman gasped. Never had she thought Ryan, who always came to the bar to keep Y/n company and watch her sing and her partner of almost a decade would betray her like that. “Did you just find out today?”

“Last Monday. I went to bring him his dry cleaning he left at my place and found him making out with his married coworker.” Another gasp left Penny. “I’ve been playing actor the past two weeks to make him think everything was okay while I gathered proof. Told the woman’s husband a couple days ago and we both met with their superior today. Gave him his stuff while I was at it.”

“I’m so sorry honey,” Penny reached over to pat her hand, “he’s an asshole and you’re worth so much more than him.” Y/n softly smiled at that, mumbling a thanks. Penny served her another glass, “Take the night off okay, I can call Elise to take your shift.”

If Y/n was being honest the offer sounded like a dream. She wanted to go home and cry herself into a bucket of ice cream while watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine until she passed out. But part of her also wanted to sing her pent up feelings out. “Thanks, Penny. I’d still like to sing though if you don’t mind. I could use the release.”

“Of course,” Penny waved a hand, “Whenever you feel like it I’ll have Jose set up the mic. Your guitar’s in the back where I keep the stock.”

For the next couple hours Y/n caught up on grading some papers at a booth while she waited for 8 to roll around. By 6 most of their regulars from the base arrived, signaling the end of the work day. Nat was the first to spot Y/n, strolling over and immediately noticed by the professor's body language that something was off.

“What happened?” She sat across from her.

“What makes you think something happened?”

Nat gave a look, “first, you’re not working the bar.” Y/n shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

“Penny gave me the night off. I’m still singing though so I thought I’d hang out for the time being—catch up grading before spring break next week.”

“The tone in your voice is off.”

Y/n scoffed even though the pilot was right, “It’s not off.”

“What’s not off?” Rooster comes up, pushing Nat aside so he could slide into the booth.

“Y/n’s acting off and won’t say why.”

“I’ve been grading papers for the last two hours,” Y/n rolled her eyes, “sixty to be exact and all are six pages each. If I sound off it’s probably because I’m tired.” Again, Nat doesn’t appear convinced.

“But you’re still gonna sing even though you probably would rather be home sleeping the day away?”

“Friday nights are what I look forward to during the week,” Y/n scribbled a grade at the top of the paper in front of her, placing it on the stack, “I get to see you guys and sing whatever I want. I wouldn’t miss this.”

“Is Ryan coming?” It was an innocent question and one to expect from her friends given they had no idea of the events that’d taken place. However it didn’t stop the sharp intake of breath Y/n did.

“No, he’s not,” she quickly added before they could ask why, “he got held up at work. His supervisor needed to discuss some things with him.”

“Uh oh,” Rooster made a face, unaware of the boiling anger surfacing in Y/n. “That can’t be good.”

“Yeah,” Y/n clicked her pen, finishing up the last paper. Nat decided not to press further on what was bothering her friend. If Y/n wanted to say then that was up to her.

So to brighten her mood Nat bought her a round and challenged Y/n to a game of pool. Y/n packed up her things, placed them behind the bar and then greeted the other daggers.

“There’s our favorite singer,” Jake announced with a smile. “We were wondering where you were.” Y/n took the cue Rooster handed her.

“Just trying to get through the semester, Hangman.”

The two women played best out of three with Y/n winning the first and final game. By the time they finished it was pushing 7:50 so Y/n informed Penny she was getting her guitar. Once retrieving the instrument she returned to the floor to see Jose had set up the mic and stool for her.

Grabbing a glass of water, Y/n took the stage and set the glass beside the stool before clearing her throat, “Hey everyone.” There were a few hoots and whistles from her friends and regulars at the bar. “How’s your night going? Good?” There were some ‘yeahs’ from the crowd, people moving to get drinks and settle close to the stage. “That’s great to hear. Just sit back, relax, and feel the music.”

Y/n played several songs, all acoustic, starting with Taylor Swift’s ‘Getaway Car’ followed by ‘Back to Black’ by Amy Winehouse. She changed the tune by playing Bill Withers ‘Ain’t No Sunshine,’ but changed ‘she’ to ‘he’ that not many caught. She played ‘Norman Fucking Rockwell,’ by Lana Del Rey and ‘Somebody That I Used To Know,’ from Gotye.

Coming up to the final five minutes of the hour, Y/n gulped the remaining bit of her water and put on a brave face. “This last song,” she paused to close her eyes, “fits the theme you’ve been hearing all night, but is a little more close to the heart. It’s dedicated to someone who’s not present in the crowd which really is a good thing because he knew what was best for him,” very quickly Y/n saw the confusion appear on her friends, some whispering to each other to ask if they knew what she was talking about. “If you can relate to this song because you’ve been on the receiving end of betrayal then my heart goes out to you for I feel your pain. If you can relate because you’ve been that one to betray someone, well, I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

Letting her fingers drum against the strings, the beginning chords of ‘Before He Cheats’ by Carrie Underwood echoed through the bar.

“Right now, he’s probably slow dancin’,” her voice carried into the mic, raw with emotion. “With a bleached-blond tramp and she’s probably gettin’ frisky. Right now, he’s probably buyin’ her some fruity little drink. ‘Cause she can’t shoot whisky.”

Out in the crowd Nat cursed under her breath, anger rising at the realization, “That sly bastard.”

“What?” Mickey whispered, the guys leaning in.

“Right now, he’s probably up behind her with a pool stick. Showin’ her how to shoot a como. And he doesn’t know….”

“Don’t you see?” She gestured with a hand to Y/n, “Ryan cheated on her! That’s why he’s not here. That’s why his supervisor needed to see him. It’s why she’s dedicated this song, a song about a cheater, to him!”

All the sirens ring in their heads as Y/n belts the chorus.

“I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive. Carved my name into his leather seats. I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, I slashed a hole in all four tires. Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats.”

“Oh,” the word left Jake’s lips, fury in his green eyes. Y/n was his friend, and nobody hurts his friends. “Oh he’s gonna regret that.”

“You guys thinking what I’m thinking?” Rooster crossed his arms over his chest. All of them shared a look. Nat took one look at Y/n and saw how she was holding back tears.

Kill Bill sirens flooded her brain.

“Yeah, I think we are.”

Come Monday Ryan was emptying out his desk while he awaited his discharge hearing, dark circles under his eyes and in dire need of sleep. As he carried the box out to his car, it fell from his hands with horror coating his face.

Parked in the same spot his beloved red Mustang Charger was not the way he left it. The windows were shattered, tires slashed, the leather of his seats torn. His license plates were missing and the word cheater spray painted in white along the sides.

Hiding behind the building, the guys were biting back their laughter at his reaction. Bob holding the spray paint can, Mickey with the Louisville slugger and Bradley and Jake with pocket knives. Reuben had the plates behind his back and Javy kept checking the phone where he had hacked into the building's security cameras to make sure they were disconnected.

Right on time, Nat came running around the corner in her PT gear, slowing her run when she approached a visibly distraught and furious Ryan. Removing her headphones the pilot whistled, “Damn. That’s gonna be a field day to fix.”

Ryan snapped his head to her, “Do you know who did this?” His tone was accusatory and Nat couldn’t blame him. He knew she was friends with Y/n and frequented the bar every week. He wouldn’t put it past Nat being involved. “Was it you and her? Huh? Y/n had to get one last final laugh—as if she hasn’t done enough!” Nat only scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“I wouldn’t throw accusations so loosely, Ryan. I’ve had PT all morning and Y/n left for Cabo yesterday.” There was no lie in her statement. Y/n was currently sitting at the poolside of her resort with a margarita in her hand. She’d posted on her instagram stories and let Nat know when she landed. Plus the pilot did have PT and was finishing up her run before heading to the flight line.

But she was the mastermind while the boys did the dirty work.

The truth only angered Ryan more, his face turning even more red. “Then who did this?!”

“How should I know?” Nat smirked, putting her headphones in as she started to move past him. “But maybe next time you’ll think before you cheat.”

………..

TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa @artemissunn @pinkpantheris

[httyd-art-requests]

📌

(Originally one-httyd-a-day)

Read the rules‼️

Requests are currently CLOSED!

Commissions are open!

[Started on 2024/01/01]

Hello! :D

This blog was started in honor of the 2024 Year of the Dragon, which also happened to be a leap year, aka Hiccup Haddock's birthday year. This blog was originally a daily art blog, but I changed it to an art request blog due to burnout and the sheer amount of requests people have sent me.

That being said, I'm drawing YOUR 🫵 HTTYD requests - which are periodically open. You can see whether requests are open by checking this pinned post, or in the bio of the blog itself.

Any requests sent in during the closed period will be thoroughly ignored.

(I'm in the process of fulfilling old requests - sit tight!)

I hope my fellow HTTYD fans will appreciate this blog, and I hope you'll stick around <3

Toothless in Gravity Falls crossover (Ad Astra AU):

⭐️ Part 1

⭐️ Part 2

⭐️ Part 3

⭐️ Part 4 (1/2) (2/2)

⭐️ Part 5 (?)

⭐️ Hiccup and the twins

⭐️ Stanley getting harrassed by Terrible Terrors

⭐️ Toothless and Bill

Request criteria under the cut!

🤎 Dragons I will draw for you:

Dragons from all three of the movies

Canon dragons (Toothless, Stormfly, Cloudjumper etc)

Dragons from the spinoff shows (Riders/Defenders of Berk and Race to the Edge)

🤎 Dragons I will not be drawing:

Dragons from the HTTYD games (Rise of Berk, School of Dragons, Dawn of new Riders and Titan Uprising)

Hybrid dragons

Dragons from The Nine Realms

Dragons from the books (This blog is dedicated to the animated franchise)

Fanmade species

I love you and I appreciate you being here. Thank you for following my silly dragon project 🤎

[HTTYD OC blog: @wardenofdragons]

[Main blog: @theonewiththeideas]

🤎Dragons I've already done🤎

In order of posting:

Death Gripper | Stormcutter | Deadly Nadder | Gronckle | Monstrous Nightmare | Zippleback | Snaptrapper | Hobblegrunt | Silver Phantom | Scauldron | Reignstorm (Rise of Berk) | Woolly Howl | Auroma (Rise of Berk) | Thunderdrum | Death Song | Flightmare | Night Fury | Skrill | Dart (Nightlight) | Dramillion | Typhoomerang | Terrible Terror | Razorwhip | Screaming Death | Light Fury | Changewing | Sandbuster | Sand Wraith | Speed Stinger | Boneknapper | Timberjack | Nightlight | Singetail (Freezeburn from Rise of Berk) | Sentinel |Prickleboggle | Sliquifer | Skyfire (Rise of Berk) | Shivertooth | Tuffnut's Chicken | Groncicle | Scuttleclaw | Shockjaw | Brute Stormcutter (Rise of Berk) | Egg Biter | Slitherwing | Triple Stryke | Red Death | Eruptodon | Tide Glider | Skrill × Stormcutter Hybrid (my design) | Zipplewraith (Titan Uprising) | Drago's Bewilderbeast | Toothless :) | Sea Shocker | Windstriker | Catastrophic Quaken | Rumblehorn | Titan Woolly Howl | Baby Typhoomerang | Baby Bewilderbeast | Rosethorn (Rise of Berk) | Hobgobbler | Bone Gripper (Bonknapper × Death Gripper Hybrid) | Viggo's Skrill (and Viggo) | Smothering Smokebreath | Deathly Galeslash (Titan Uprising) | Raincutter | Grim Gnasher | Snow Wraith | Snafflefang | Ruffnut's Trancemare (Rise of Berk) | Night Fury OC (Warden) | Fireworm | Fireworm Queen | Scimiterror (Rise of Berk) | Wise Wind (Rise of Berk) | Flame Whipper | Sand Wraith × Night Fury Hybrid (my design) | Monstrous Nightmare × Deadly Nadder Hybrid (my design) | Stormfly and Astrid | Non-Binary Pride Terrible Terror | Transgender Pride Night Fury | Asexual Pride Night Fury | AroAce Pride Changewing | Transgender Pride Hookfang and Snotlout | Asexual Pride Deadly Nadder | Aromantic Pride Scuttleclaw | AroAce Pride Night Fury | Asexual Pride Light Fury | Progression Pride Gronckle | Bisexual Pride Stormcutter | Bisexual Pride Deadly Nadder | Agender Pride Sandbuster | Cupiosexual and Cupioromantic Pride Night Fury x Skrill Hybrid | Exiled Stormcutter (Rise of Berk) | Lesbian Crimson Goregutter | Gravedigger (Rise of Berk) | Hackatoo | Night Fury × Death Song Hybrid | Aroace Speed Stinger | Asexual Silver Phantom | Light Fury × Sand Wraith Hybrid | Bambi Lesbian Terrible Terror | Concept Art Light Fury | Pouncer and Ruffrunner | Hunterbolt (Rise of Berk) | Color swapped Night- and Light Fury | Marinecutter (Rise of Berk) | (Sleeping) Night Fury | Patch and Scribbler from Dawn of New Riders | Lycanwing Hiccup | Terrible Terror Hiccup | Quartz Wraith (Rise of Berk) | Toothless :) |

[sister-lucifer]

“Here’s What’s Gonna Happen.”

[short no context size kink drabble]

[unnamed male x male reader]

[tw: no smut but very suggestive/NSFW, size difference, intimidation, shy/innocent reader, pet names, a bit of force but not physical, the unnamed male is kind of a creep tbh but I’M into it.]

[IF YOU SEE ANY TYPOS PLEASE LET ME KNOW.]

IF YOU LIKE THIS POST, PLEASE REBLOG! It’s easy, free, and it’s a great way to show creators some love!

“Don’t look so scared, pretty boy,” he laughs, eyeing you up and down as you press your back into the wall. He resists the urge to run his tongue over his canines while you cower like a frightened bunny. 

He keeps his hands deep in the pockets of his open jacket, not wanting to make any sudden moves—at least not yet. He’s slouching on purpose as well, though it doesn’t really make that much of a difference when you can still tell that he could easily pick you up and run with you if he wanted, and the idea of your legs dangling uselessly in the air as he carries you off to god knows where makes the both of you shiver for different reasons. 

“I haven’t hurt you yet, have I, angel?” he says, letting the words come out slow as he takes the smallest step closer. You hesitantly shake your head. The way you look up at him through your lashes with those big, frightened doe eyes make him wanna jump you right here. You’re trembling now, and when he notices he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. 

You open your mouth to say something, but you don’t even get to stammer out a syllable before he cuts you off. 

“Shh, baby…’s okay. I just wanna, ah…get to know you better. You’re just so cute, can’t leave you all alone…” 

He steps a bit closer, and he doesn’t miss the way you gulp nervously. You barely come up to his chest, and his shadow is swallowing you whole now. The little whimper you involuntarily let out makes his stomach flip with excitement. 

“So damn precious,” he mumbles. His eyes don’t leave your face. 

He pulls one hand from his pocket slowly, biting back a smirk as he watches you tense, and then deflate with relief when you see his hand is empty. He brings it up to your face, relishing the way you flinch back despite having nowhere to go. 

The better part, though, is when you feel how gentle his touch is. 

Clearly you were expecting him to hit or grab you, something rough and forceful; instead, his fingers lazily brush over your cheek, and then his palm cradles your face. His hand feels huge against your head, and it’s warm and strong. 

He can’t stop himself from smiling at the way your demeanor changes. 

You instinctively lean into his touch ever so slightly, your lips pursed just a tiny bit. You’re not pouting per se, but it’s clear to him that your shy nature is battling with your need for affection. He imagines you as a kicked dog, begrudgingly wagging its tail for a good scratch behind the ears. 

He looks around for just a moment to double check that no one is around. When he’s confirmed that you’re alone, he leans down to your height to talk lowly in your ear. He doesn’t stop cradling your face. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he says, without any room for protest, “you’re gonna get in my truck. We’re gonna stop at the corner store. I’m gonna buy some smokes, maybe some booze, and whatever you want. Then you’re gonna go back to mine with me. Sound good?” 

He’s not really asking, that much is obvious. 

He stands back up, looking down at you once more as he awaits your answer. 

His grin nearly splits his face when you bite down hard on your bottom lip and nod. 

“That’s the right answer, pretty boy.”

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out. 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated. 

[rcamshateclub]

he’s back…

SPOILERS FOR JJK MANGA (221 especially!)

☆ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

☆ content warning(s): JJK SPOILERS CH 221, gojo is unsealed, angst to fluff, reader is so whipped for gojo, gojo is whipped too, lovesick! gojo, i don’t know if it was still 19 days that gojo was sealed…, gojo goes crazy!!, a little altering of the new chapter…! UNEDITED and a little rushed sorry!

☆ summary: 19 days of sleeping alone, 19 days without her one and only lover, 19 days of not being able to kiss him goodnight, 19 days of pain, 19 days of not being able to say “i love you toru.” one more time, 19 days of not seeing that white hair and those adorable puppy eyes.

☆ A/N: i’m honestly like so happy that gojo is unsealed because i’ve been WAITING for this moment. like i’m just so happy bru. missed my pookie :[. lowk should write gojo w an adhd girlfriend fr. this is probs super self indulgent too.

☆ please check my pinned post for request info on the link saying rules! requests are open! characters i write for are also there :) check it out!

it’s been 19 days since gojo satoru has been sealed. his girlfriend, who was going to be his fiancée, is stuck at their shared home. she was hidden from the jujutsu world. gojo didn’t want anyone trying to attack his future wife. the woman of his dreams, the woman who knows how to understand him. shoko, the other best friend of gojo satoru, took it upon herself to see you, as nanami passed away…

“y/n?” she yells out when knocking on your door. you just woke up twenty minutes ago when you get to the door, shoko saw how you looked.

your hair was a mess, though still was being washed yet no effort put into it. your eyes were puffy and you had terrible eye bags. shoko just hugged you and you broke down in her arms.

“shoko, it’s only been 19 days and yet i still am like this, i thought i’d be better than this. i knew it would happen one day yet why am i a mess?” you knew that it was a little stupid of you to be such a mess when it’s been only 19 days he was gone but you and satoru have been together for 5 years. yet, him being away and not knowing when he was coming back was scary. sure, he went on overseas missions for three months before, but you had contact with him, you can call and text him and still say “i love you toru” yet now you can’t.

“y/n, it’s okay. he will be unsealed. we have a plan in check. we are starting the process now, i just needed to see you and let you know what’s happening. i’ll have yuuji come to protect you right now, you’re not going to be safe alone forever.” shoko says, she gives you one last hug before yuuji appears behind her.

“y/n.” he says and just hugs you. you hugged him back while tears fell down. he didn’t smile at all, gojo being sealed took away this precious boy’s smile. you cupped yuuji’s cheeks. “i’m sorry yuuji. i’m so sorry. you deserve much better my love.” yuuji just hugged you tighter. you waved bye to shoko and closed the door. yuuji was still clinging onto you as you tried to walk to the couch.

“i’m sorry y/n. i wasn’t strong enough.” you looked at the boy, he was getting anxious and couldn’t read your expression. “yuuji, you’re strong. you’re just a kid hon, i can’t blame you. i blame the cursed world we live in, especially because now you’re a jujutsu sorcerer. yuuji, you deserved better than this world. i promise you.” yuuji and you both hugged and you told him to watch a show on the TV, while you made food.

as you were finishing up, yuuji and you both felt a little earthquake though yuuji knew it wasn’t an earthquake but gojo being unsealed.

yuuji just stayed with you and when you served him, he was happy. though, he thought about how you were feeling since your fiancé was sealed in a box without any communication for almost three weeks straight.

you just smiled at him while you waited for the pans to cool down. you served yourself as well and ate right next to your fiancé’s student. you messed with yuuji’s hair and said, “you know, you need to smile more yuuji. i love being around. you’re such a kind boy. i hope you grow old and have a family, live life as well as you can.” yuuji looked at you and then finally smiled, “yeah. i’ll try to promise you that.”

you smiled at him when all of a sudden, your front door was opening�� yuuji got in front of you but when the door was fully open, you ran towards the man full speed.

“s-satoru? you’re back? y-you’re here?” you had tears coming out of your eyes. he smirked, “i didn’t know i was walking in on my girlfriend cheating on me with my student!” he grabbed his chest acting like it hurt. you hit his arm and immediately hugged him.

“yuuji, were you protecting my pretty girl for me?” he asked teasingly. yuuji nods and then you let go of your boyfriend. gojo hugs yuuji and whispers something in his ear. yuuji just looked back at you and smiled.

“you know, we’ve missed you satoru. the strongest man alive is back and yet i didn’t get my kiss. 19 days without you satoru gojo. 19 days with your kiss, your voice, your stupid little kid of a personality, your touch. do you know how insane i’m going right now? you’re so lucky i know how to control myself.” you say to him and yuuji waves goodbye while leaving and closing the door. gojo just stares back at you and looks at you, “oh baby, i know. i was stuck in that box and my mind went insane. felt like years i was waiting. couldn’t even sleep it off.”

you went to kiss him and he pulled you in. this kiss wasn’t lust, it was just pure love, saying all kinds of things, “be safe”, “i love you so much”, “i missed you”, “stay with me”, “don’t leave”, and it was just gojo knowing he had to make you his more officially. he slyly puts the ring that was still in his pocket onto your left hand. “mine.” he says after pulling away from you and you looked down to see the ring.

“i don’t care. we’re getting married even if it’s a quiet one. we are marrying each other.” he says that so seriously and quietly. you wonder how he feels.

“let’s go to bed.” you say and he follows behind you. you stopped caring for the dishes in the sink as soon as you saw your beloved boyfriend. when you both laid down on the bed, you couldn’t help but move closer to him until his arms were wrapped around you and you just nuzzled into his chest.

“i love you ‘toru.”

“i love you more pretty.”

[roboticchibitan]

Okay, I have officially ordered the button press! I have to make sure it works properly and make some premade button designs before I can set a date to post the designs and officially start accepting people's requests and food bank donations, but here's some general points to be aware of

I can't pay for shipping because I'm on SSI and even after my $22 raise on January 1st I still live off of less than $1k a month. I ship from the west coast of the US. If you need a shipping estimate before you can commit to reserving a pin, once the press gets here and I have a pin and mailer I can weigh, you can DM me your address and I will get you a shipping estimate.

Pins will ship via USPS unless you prefer another carrier (USPS is usually cheapest).

Because of the rules around receiving money when on SSI (basically, if money goes into a bank account, they take half of it out of my next check, but not if it goes in my ABLE account), it's best if you can pay for shipping via donations to my ABLE account. This requires bank routing information and is only available to US residents. However, I also have venmo if you're outside the US or don't have access to bank routing information for whatever reason. (edit: I'm not sure venmo is available outside the US so I might have to resort to paypal or something, we'll see!)

If you want to reserve a pin slot but need to wait to donate until you get a paycheck, that's fine. As long as you donate by Dec 31st you can reserve the pin when I make my post. Due to this policy, I will be shipping pins out the first week of January.

I haven't decided how many pin slots I will be offering because I need to see how hard operating the press is on my joints before I make any commitments.

Premade pin designs will be available for cost of shipping and a donation of at least $3 to a food bank. Custom made pins will be available for cost of shipping and a donation of at least $10 to a food bank

If there's no food bank in your area, one of my followers has contacted me about a nonprofit they work for that supports artists in the San Francisco Bay Area and part of their outreach includes a food pantry. I will provide a link to their website in a reblog of the official post whenever I make it

For custom pins, I am not a skilled artist (yet) so the best custom art I can offer is doodles. However, if you want to design the pin yourself, there is a website that has templates for various art programs, including photoshop. I will reblog this post with a link to it and if that gets lost for some reason you can DM me for the link also. A note: the reviews of the button press say that it can't handle anything other than regular printer paper, so that is what I will be printing on.

If you, like me, already donate to your food bank on a monthly basis, you can count December's donation in reserving a pin.

If all goes well with this little experiment, I will be doing this again in March for my birthday! So if pin slots get reserved quickly and you miss out, know that I will be (hopefully) doing this again later.

I'm going to limit this to one pin per person but if some pins aren't reserved then I will change this policy.

I will ask that you DM me a screenshot of your receipt that shows the amount you donated. I need this both as proof of donation and also because I want to keep a tally of how much has been donated as a result of this little project and how many people we've collectively fed.

Okay, I think that's everything at the moment. Feel free to reply to this post with any questions. I am making this up as I go along so I'm sure there's things I haven't thought about yet.

[lehguru]

LOVERS + GERMA 66

germa 66 as lovers/partners!!

warnings: part of my fluff month, all of germa 66 r walking trigger warnings (i say as i write fluff for them); not proofread + requests are open ! check pinned post for requesting rules

dating ichiji means that you're never going to be right about something. he will always have the last word during a discussion and don't even try to prove your point. he expects you to be on his side no matter what. he loves when you touch his tattoo, it always makes a cocky smirk appear in his lips. even if he and his brothers usually hate the same people (sanji), he will never let them say bad things about you – unless he also agree with them, but that's rare/doesn't happen. he won't do PDA or even do as much as hold your hand if someone is in the same room as you two; in private, he will go along with anything you want to do, even if he scowls and calls you stupid for wanting to rest your head on his chest.

niji would prefer to have a friends with benefits type of relationship; that's what he says at least, but he can't stand seeing anyone else flirting with you – he broke yonji's nose when he noticed his brother doing heart eyes at you. loves to pin you against the wall to talk to you, even more if you are smaller. a little aggressive, if you can't handle people screaming at you, you definitely wouldn't be able to be with him; he doesn't scream because he hates you or something, he just doesn't care about the affects of his words or actions. i can see him pampering you with gifts and money, all to show how rich and true royalty he is.

yonji is definitely the clingest of all germa 66. he always throws an arm around your shoulders, his characteristic smirk in his lips, and kisses your temple, his raspy voice questioning why you weren't next to him since the morning. whenever you're eating with the "family", he keeps a hand resting on any part of your body he can reach; he squeezes your flesh and opens his mouth, as a quiet "feed me". loves to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder to bring you anywhere he wants, not caring about the looks people (mostly the clones and other employees) gives you two. at night, he hugs you tight against his body and loudly groans if you do as much as shift a little.

reiju is the best lover among all of them. she will shower you with love, always have obvious adoration in her eyes while looking at you. doesn't really enjoy PDA much – mostly so her brothers and father don't realize how deep her feelings run for you –, but she makes sure to hold your hand and quickly squeezes it before letting go; it's her way of assuring you she is there. in private, she adores to play with your hair, resting your head on her thighs. loves to hear you talk about anything, from random things to your deepest secrets, she will always pay attention and give you her all. she will often leave little kisses on your lips, chuckling when you get embarrassed; compliments you after doing it too, just so you can get even more shy.

2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used on them belong to their respective creators!!

[blingblong55]

KINKTOBER IS OPEN - MDNI/NSFW

Please read through this post to understand what this event is about.

ALL REQUESTS WILL BE POSTED STARTING THE 1ST OF OCTOBER

What is Kinktober?

Kinktober is a writing challenge which takes part in the month of October. Any and all writers that do NSFW fiction can take part in this. The list that I have come up with is mostly inspired by @katz-chow and I have added or removed some of the kinks from their original list. From the 1st of October until the 31st, I will be writing the request/number you ask for. All smut content will and can vary from headcanons, one-shots, drabble and/or long fics.

How does this work?

There are 25 kinks that you can choose from. As seen on the poster/picture, you must let me know which character you are requesting and a scenario but that is optional. Like Katz, you can ask for what form of smut you want. EX. Headcanon, one shot or a long fic.

What characters can you request?

I have a somewhat extensive list of characters and the current list is here

Some more information: (All credits to Katz)

If I have multiple requests for the same character and kink, I'll choose just one request and tag all those else that asked for the same thing, (unless it is anonymous ofc).

If I happen to have the same kink but request different characters, I will turn it into a headcanon or what I see fit(for my own sanity, lol).

If you want your character to be submissive/switch/dominate, you must state that in the request or I will choose.

Remember to also write in whether you want your request to be F!/ GN!/M! Reader

Make sure to check my pinned post for the rules for making requests If you would like to use this exact list, make sure to let me know beforehand or message me

Go make some requests to fellow writer, @katz-chow -Link to their Kinktober Menu

Stay kinky you nasty whores