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mrpenguinpants · 1 year

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Low Battery Warning - Touch Starved HCs

— If he goes too long without you by his side, he starts to get irritable and too frustrating for anyone to deal with. For the sake of everyone, please remember to recharge your battery before leaving for extended periods of time.

— Tartaglia, Kaveh, Ayato, Alhaitham, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

I JUST WANT TO WRITE WHIPPED MEN OKAY? What do you mean I have to write a part 2 for two different fics??? I'm honestly surprised I managed to finish this. Also, ALHAITHAM NATION REJOICE, YOUR BOY IS HERE AND I CAN FINALLY MAKE A BANNER. I wasn't going to write him (I'm a kaveh stan) but now that he's here...

Tartaglia

While Tartaglia is the most favored to work with compared to the other Harbingers, that's only by a very slim margin. The closest you'll get to death is when the man gets bored and randomly picks someone to fight, but they usually make it out alive. Maybe a couple weeks in the medical bay and a few broken bones but they aren't dead for the most part. He's also the youngest and therefore the most easy-going even if he's a bit childish. He's a soldier first so he knows the pain of listening to someone verbally beat you down and not having the power to do anything back. But he's still a person at the end of the day and after so many people messing up and delaying his work, he's starting to get irritated. First, it was someone spilling tea onto important documents that he just finished signing, then the Fatui agents stationed near Jueyun Karst being defeated by some no-named treasure hoarders, and then finally being held hostage in his own office because the Liyue Qixing wouldn't leave him alone. God, he slumps over his desk, he just wants to go home and see you!

By the time he finally stumbles through the door, you're already passed out on the couch. He can't blame you, it's very late into the night and he would probably be more upset if you forced yourself to stay awake just to welcome him home. But he can still pout that he was taken away from you for so long, he didn't even get to see you all day. That's borderline torture. But he supposes he can forgive you since you look so cute bundled up in his red shirt. If he happens to take a picture or two that's for his knowledge and eyes only. So he easily scoops you up into his arms, taking a couple seconds to just stand there as he basks in the comfortable weight before he takes you to bed. Just for tonight. This will be the last time work takes him away from home for so long.

It lasts for two weeks. Usually, Childe could hold himself together, he's been away for far longer, but the fact that you're right there and he can't hold you is driving him insane. By the 14th day, Childe is ready to snap his pen in half and hurl it at the next person that comes through that cursed door. He doesn't though because it's usually Ekaterina, the only one that has the balls to talk to him right now, and she deserves far more than she's paid to deal with. But he's touch-deprived and tired. Even Zhongli with his infinite amount of patience advises him to sort himself out before inviting him out to lunch next time. He tried to deal with it on his own, this isn't the first time he's felt claustrophobic, but after the fifth Hilichurl camp he doesn't feel any better which only makes his mood sour further. He might even beat Scaramouche in how short-tempered he is right now. There's heavy air wherever he goes and whatever carefree persona he usually has on is thrown out the window.

It's Zhongli who clues you into how bad Childe's demeanor has gotten, the rascal looks horrible both physically and mentally. Despite the consultant and Childe being on friendly terms, you don't really know the man that well. But he doesn't seem like the type of person to lie so you thank him for the information and make your way to the Northland Bank. To be honest, you've been feeling the effects of not seeing Childe as often as you usually do. You know his work can get so hectic that it keeps him cooped up in his office but it's been a while since you've even seen that fluff of ginger hair. He usually doesn't want you near his work considering how it might put you in danger, but if he isn't taking care of himself then what kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?

Even outside the building, you can feel the effects of what Zhongli talked about. All the agents look like they're on their last legs, there's a gloomy atmosphere surrounding the building even though the sun shines brightly across Liyue harbor, and you can vaguely hear an annoyed Harbinger scolding someone. As soon as you set foot into the building Ekaterina nearly tackles you off your feet. Desperately thanking you for coming and looking at you as if you're the Tsaritsa herself.

As soon as Ekaterina says your name, Childe whips his head around at such a speed that you're afraid his head might fling off as his eyes lock onto yours. You know Childe wouldn't hurt you, never you, but he's looking at you like he's about to devour you and you're suddenly very glad you've never been on the receiving end of his anger. He shoves the papers in his hands into the agent's chest he was probably reprimanding and marches over to where you are.

"C-Childe?" "S-Sir?"

Ekaterina mirrors the wary call of his name until he's finally in front of you and without a word, throws his arms around you. You stumble a bit under his weight but you quickly circle your arms around his back and hold on tight so you don't trip over your own feet. You can only imagine what it looks like for Ekaterina to see her stiff boss suddenly deflate in your arms. A pleased groan escapes from him as he basically lifts you off your feet just so he can hug you closer to him. You almost feel like a child's teddy bear with your legs dangling in the air trapped in a crushing hug. You know that your relationship with Childe isn't a secret but you both don't show any displays of affection, you don't even really interact in public in general, so this is pretty open for the two of you. Well, for you at least. You don't even think Childe is registering anything around him except that you're here.

"Are you okay милый?" you whisper into his ear, nuzzling into the side of his head that's nestled into your shoulder. Your snezhnaya is a little rough around the edges but from how he seems to purr you think he enjoys it nonetheless. "Although I'm happy to see you too, don't you think we should move so we aren't blocking the main entrance?"

He sleepily blinks awake and slowly starts to acknowledge that you're both very much standing at the bank's entrance with everyone shamelessly staring. He frankly looks like he doesn't care, people have working legs, they can walk around you both. But he also doesn't want anyone to find another reason to take him away when he's very comfortable.

"If you need me, don't," is the clipped order that rings out through the bank. You know he's heavily censoring what he actually wants to say but from how everyone cowers away, they can probably tell what would happen if they disobey him. They all give him a nod and a salute before he's picking you up, cradles you into your arms, and swiftly walks upstairs. With a kick of his boot, the door slams shut and he sinks into his chair, you seated pretty on his lap.

"Please never leave me, I think I might die," he groans, re-wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You can only sigh fondly as you gently run your fingers through his hair, rubbing small circles into his scalp and he melts into goo. As if you would want to leave.

Kaveh

You know Kaveh is a bit...eccentric to say the least. He always says what's on his mind and most of the time his thoughts are things he should keep to himself. Even you're not totally immune to his blunt honesty despite the fact he tries to watch how he phrases things when directed to you. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt your feelings, regardless if you know he means no harm. It's rather cute that for someone who doesn't care about what others think of him, he's a bit insecure around you. He likes you, really likes you, and he often finds himself plotting out what he's going to say hours before your lunch date with him. But as soon as you greet him with that charming smile and a brief hug, he turns into putty and whatever flowery language he conjured in his mind is swept away. The confident architect that graduated with honors is reduced to a red-faced mess of stumbling words. It doesn't help that you find it adorable enough to press a chaste kiss to his red cheek and he swears that he's going to pass out from a heat stroke.

He's both extremely glad and terribly conflicted that your love language seems to be touch. He loves it when you brush your fingers through his hair but it always lulls him into sleep so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you hug him tightly but then he never wants to leave so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss but then he goes in for seconds, then thirds, and so on that he doesn't get any work done. If he went into alchemy rather than architecture he would dedicate his life work to studying why you have the touch of an Archon that compels him so. But he didn't and now that he's drowning in debt, he really needs to concentrate and finish his work before the deadline.

So now he has the painful task of trying to find an extremely polite way of asking you to leave him alone without you taking offense and breaking up with him. He would be devastated if he couldn't see your loving gaze on him again. But the situation is dire because as soon as he sees you, all he wants to do is curl up in bed with you in his arms. Preferably forever but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. But every time he tries to bring it up it only takes one look from you for him to stutter and wave off his words. He tries to pep talk himself and every single time he claims that this will be the day that he, very politely, pushes you off, it ends with him melting into goo and waking up the next day with all his untouched work judging him from the table.

It gets to the point that he begins to air his grievances to Alhaitham of all people. To be fair, he doesn't expect the scribe to listen to a word he says and if he did, it would only be because Kaveh needed to pay his share of the rent. But he's pleasantly surprised when you pop up with a guilty smile and that Alhaitham explained his circumstances to you. He tries to clear up the situation, he has no idea what Alhaitham said specifically but it must have been put in the worst way possible, but you take his hands and he shuts up immediately. You give him a light giggle that melts his heart and you tell him to call for you once he's completed his work.

It was the worst decision he's ever made. Second to moving in with Alhaitham. Maybe his judgment of you being an angel was a lie and you were secretly the devil from how often his thoughts were plagued by you. He could draw a circle and think of your eyes. He knows that he's smitten in your presence but he didn't expect that to double when he's suddenly alone. His only motivation is that as soon as he's finished, he'll be able to see you again. But his mind and his work bleed together and he ends up drawing your face instead of buildings and pipes.

He ends up locking himself in his studio and slowly deforming into slime with how awful he's taking care of himself. Alhaitham has to pry him from the table only for Kaveh to flop in his arms that the scribe gives up and hauls the corpse over his shoulder and makes his way to your home. Kaveh still needs to pay his share of the rent so he's not allowed to die before then.

When you opened the door you weren't expecting Alhaitham at your doorstep with Kaveh over his shoulder. He doesn't seem to want to be in this situation either because it looks like he's two seconds away from throwing your boyfriend across the room. But he manages to reign everything in front of you and quickly explains Kaveh's situation, dumping said man into your arms, and telling you to fix it. You shoot him an apologetic smile that he waves off, it's not like it's your fault, before turning around and making his way back to his own home.

"Kaveh?" you whisper gently against his ear to not startle him. It only takes him a second to register your voice before he's perking up and beaming at you. He easily shifts positions so you're in his arms instead. Twirling you around and using the momentum to tuck an arm under your knees and smoothly picking you up, somehow supporting your entire weight in one arm while the other closes the door. Sometimes you forget that Kaveh is really strong despite his lean stature. He is a claymore user after all.

"Darling! What are you doing here?" Kaveh questions while he makes himself at home. If only your living space was big enough for him to store all his work otherwise he would have moved in with you by now.

"Alhaitham mentioned that your recent commission was taking up all your time and you weren't taking care of yourself. Are you alright?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself while Kaveh takes his shoes and coat off. In these types of moments, no matter what you do or say he'll refuse to let you out of his arms. If he has to live with one arm then he'll gladly do so just so long as his other hand is wrapped around you.

"Never better," he replies with a smile. He's obviously lying given the dark circles under his pretty red eyes but the soft look he sends you is enough to tell you that right now, he's never been more comfortable. It makes you a bit flustered to have such an intense gaze on you but Kaveh is always forward with his affections and this isn't any different. With you in his arms, there's nowhere for you to run to when he tilts your chin down and brushes his lips against yours.

"Be still for me..." he whispers, the vibrations of his voice tingling against your skin as both of your eyes slowly close. Only for the moment to shatter by loud knocks on your door. You both jerk apart and turn to the disturbance with varying expressions. You're a flustered mess while Kaveh scowls as if the door offended his entire life's work. He finally sets you down on your feet and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Before marching to the door, flinging it open, and telling the man on the other side to shoo before slamming the door in his face. Unless the world is ending, don't knock.

Ayato

To say Ayato works hard is an understatement. There are several nights when he's glued to his desk rather than resting in bed. Such are the woes of him being forever dedicated to his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner. On days when there are big events and everything needs to be perfect, he's nearly inconsolable that Thoma weighs how much he can get away with if he knocks Ayato out with a frying pan. His pondering doesn't go far because even though Ayato looks like a corpse from the lack of sleep, he'd probably knock Thoma off his feet before the housekeeper could even raise his arms. Ayaka has better luck but she's only able to drag him away for a few minutes before he points in a random direction to divert her attention before disappearing as soon as she turns back. It's just something everyone is aware of and they try their best to support Lord Kamisato. But if it starts to look really bad, like Ayato might drop dead at any second, then you're called in. The last defense and their ace up the sleeve. Not to brag or anything but you have a spotless record and you intend to keep it that way.

It only takes one word from you to have the dignified and cunning Ayato turn into a scared rabbit. His name. None of the wary calls of Lord Kamisato, a dismissal of his titles, and certainly not your affectionate terms of endearment. It always brings the temperature of the room to zero and Ayaka has to double-check that her cyro vision didn't accidentally activate. Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, you're not soft on him and you set your foot down when it comes to his extremes. One of the many reasons he fell in love with you but it's coming back to bite him now. He hates seeing you unhappy, doing anything possible to wipe that frown off your face, but when it's him that's making you so displeased he can't help but look like a scolded puppy.

It doesn't take much for you to know that Ayato has overworked himself to the breaking point again. You understand his duties mean that he's going to be riddled with work but you're his partner first and foremost. You're there to care about Ayato, not the Yashiro Commissioner. And Ayato looks like he's falling apart at the seams. Heavy eye bags, pale complexion, and his body swaying back and forth before he catches himself from falling over. It pains your heart to see him like this and yet still push himself to keep going. So you take one, two, and three steps towards him to delicately take his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles into his palm before intertwining your fingers together.

Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, he doesn't disappear as soon as you take your eyes off him. Just stands there and stares dopily at you while you issue orders to take over his work. God, you look so attractive when you're in control. It's been a while since he's seen anything but paper and ink but did you always look this beautiful? He's so glad he's going to marry you. Maybe he can force the elders to move the ceremony date up. Everyone in the room politely ignores the fact that Ayato is saying these thoughts out loud and how red your face has gotten.

He doesn't object when you pull him out of the room with you, blindly following you wherever you happen to lead him by the hand. As long as your hand is in his, he'll follow you to the ends of the earth if you'll allow it. It's a bit comical how the dignified Yashiro Commissioner recedes into himself and crumbles away into a love-sick man just by a simple touch. At much as it makes you feel a bit shy, it's nice to know that Ayato won't try and weasel his way out of your grasp and return to his work.

If anything he clings to you like an onikabuto on a tree. You have to waddle your way to the baths with an oversized blue-haired man refusing to let go and draping himself over your back. You know he's making this as hard as possible on purpose, just do you can dote and pamper him a bit longer before he succumbs to slumber and has to return to work. It dampens his mood thinking of the future but it's quickly ushered away by the warm water poured over his head. It's fitting that his vision is hydro because he fits himself into the space you provide as you begin to scrub his hair clean.

There's something meditative about having his hair washed by your hands that no one else can replicate. It's a luxury that he only receives when he works hard enough that his arms hang uselessly at his sides and his body slumps into itself. Soft and malleable, completely willing to bend and mold in whatever shape you wish. But your hands scrub through his hair gently, rubbing all the stress out of his body and never complaining. Right now there's nothing else that matters more than being here with you and you with him.

"I'm going to rinse your hair out. Close your eyes now," you softly say and he follows your instructions. The rush of warm water is soothing to his ears although it sparks something in his memory that momentarily takes him out of this romantic moment. He reaches blindly behind him to take your hand, rubbing circles into your palm to halt your actions.

"It's just occurred to me but aren't you supposed to be on a trip to Watatsumi island?" he opens his eyes to peer up at you, his long eyelashes tipped with water droplets reminding you of just how pretty Ayato is. It's almost a good enough distraction for you to forget why exactly you're here rather than speaking with Kokomi right now. Almost.

"I was but someone had to go and work himself to death again. You need to take better care of yourself Ayato. I don't want to see Thoma running across all of Inazuma just to drag me back because you can't seem to sit still for a few seconds," your frown deepens with each sentence. Your free hand that's not in his grasp is knocking against his forehead, albeit not hard enough to cause any actual pain. He only chuckles before pulling you into the water with him until you're sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His head lay comfortably against your thighs.

"Apologies." He's not sorry at all. "When you're not beside me I have to throw myself into my work or else I may go insane."

"Oh so now all of this is my fault," you huff exasperated but he can hear the undertones of how happy that sentence makes you. "Come on, you'll catch a cold if we stay here any longer."

"Mmm, indulge me," he mumbles into your skin, his eyes closing once again with a content smile on his face. He doesn't need to see to know that you have an equally fond expression.

"Oh, so now my lord wishes to relax?"

"Only because you're here."

Alhaitham

You know that your relationship with Alhaitham is unusual to onlookers. You're both polar opposites and yet somehow stumbled into a rather healthy and committed relationship. To others, Alhaitham is a talented and intelligent man. The perfect bachelor if it wasn't for his "extraordinary sense of individualism" that he doesn't pay attention to people around him. He's notorious for being hard to get along with that not even his handsome face is enough for people to sit around for too long. Meanwhile, there's you. A wandering traveler who takes work whenever anyone needs an extra pair of hands. You're a bit well-known for accepting any job that pays well regardless of how dangerous or weird it might be. But unlike Alhaitham, you're more than happy to make conversation and you're often seen conversing with scholars from every one of the Six Darshans.

To everyone's knowledge, it's you that's the clingy one. You always have a hand around his arm or throw yourself at him shamelessly. Everyone assumes that Alhaitham tolerates it because he never pushes you off but he doesn't reciprocate affection to the degree that you do. If only those nosy scholars could see him now. Your newest job has you traveling to the Chasm to help collect and study the newly opened area. While the Chasm is close to Sumeru, a series of mysterious accidents led the entire mine to be closed. With the Liyue Qizing gradually reopening the area there's a lot of ground to cover. Alhaitham doesn't care much for the details except that this means you'll be away from him for a few years rather than a few weeks. As soon as you told him the expected date you'll return his face instantly soured. It was so cute that you couldn't help but press kisses to the corners of his mouth until they lifted. But one thing led to another and you're now trapped underneath his strong figure for the past couple of hours with no signs of him letting go. Every day you're gone equates to one minute he gets to keep you here.

No matter how much Alhaitham wishes to make you stay, even going so far as to bribe you, you eventually gather your things, press one last kiss to his lips, and leave him in his too-quiet house. He doesn't want to admit it but as soon as he closes the door he already feels lonely. But he'll learn to cope and continue with his life. He's been through more challenging obstacles and made it through. It's only two years, 3 months, 14 minutes, and 58 seconds. Alhaitham sighs and leans against the door. He's not going to make it.

Everyone else is content to whisper behind their hands about how the scribe seems to be more hostile. While Alhaitham doesn't have the most friendly personality, he's still somewhat polite until someone gives him a reason to exit the conversation. But now Alhaitham can barely get two sentences in before insulting someone. He doesn't even mean to do it on purpose, it just slips out. A girl who happens to share your eye color is met with a backhanded compliment that she should eat more fish. A man whose skin color is just a shade lighter than yours is met with an irritated scowl before he could even say anything. It's only now that people start to miss your presence because anything is better than a walking warning sign.

It only takes a few weeks for him to crack. He's not usually this starved of attention but the knowledge that he won't see you for another two years has him itching at his wrists. While on the outside there doesn't seem to be any changes, he's perfectly calm and collected, but his facade breaks when he starts making rash decisions. When he heard that his senior Kaveh needed a place to stay due to his financial situation, he offered to live with him much to everyone and his own surprise. Even Kaveh suspiciously asks why Alhaitham is being so generous. He doesn't dignify it with a proper answer, only that he better get his situation fixed within the next two years or the scribe is kicking him out.

As the second year rolls past, it's Kaveh who brings up Alhaitham's sudden mood change. He seems...excited. Kaveh chalks it up to Alhaitham being happy that Kaveh is finally moving out but that'd be kind of low even for someone like Alhaitham. As someone who cares about the arts and romance, there's a certain care in how Alhaitham cleans the house. Every systematic movement is laced with a longing gaze. His wrists are rubbed raw that Kaveh has to physically step in or he might rub so hard he reaches the bone. But above all the dangerous aura around Alhaitham is replaced with something Kaveh can only describe as restless patience.

"Honey, I'm home!" your happy voice is accompanied by the loud slam of the door crashing against the wall. Kaveh is startled by a random stranger entering their house but mostly at the term of endearment. Alhaitham only lowers his book at your voice before going back to reading. A bit rude in Kaveh's opinion but he can see the small smile that Alhaitham tries to hide behind the pages of his book. It's not like you aren't a bit devious yourself. So you retaliate by plucking the book out of his hands, taking a quick glance at his page number before placing it on the desk.

"Welcome back. I assume your job went well?" Alhaitham sighs as you kick his legs apart, plop yourself down into his lap, and rest your head against his chest. If you weren't so enthralled by the masterpiece that was Alhaitham's physique, you would have laughed at how the blond-haired man seemed to stare owlishly at the scene. His eyes almost fall out of their heads when Alhaitham doesn't push you off, doesn't throw you over his shoulder, or even make the slightest hint of being irritated or embarrassed. He just places his hands around your waist, rests his chin on your head, and sends an icy glare to which the blond-haired man scoffs before excusing himself. It's not anything different from what he usually does to onlookers although this is you and you can tell just how weary he is. How deeply he relaxes in your hold as the tension melts from his shoulders. How his eyes search over your body for any injuries that you might have gotten. It does look like you got a bit roughed up during your stay at the Chasm. Your hair is cut shorter than he remembers, you've put on some muscle, and there are a few nicks and cuts running along parts of your skin that are visible. But none of that matters because you're here. You're finally here.

"Aww, Haitham did you miss me?" you tease only to quickly eat your words when he manuever's you sideways so he can pin your back against the couch. You're hit with a sense of deja vu back to two years ago when you were about to leave for this trip.

"The next time you take a commission that lasts longer than two weeks, I'm coming with you or you're not going at all," he grumbles as he tucks himself into the crook of your neck with no signs of leaving. You laugh now but he's dead serious.

Dottore

You aren't sure when it started but at some point, you've been labeled as "Dottore's Favourite". He always seems to be the slightest bit nicer if you happen to be there, his voice a smidge less aggressive, and a lot more touchy. He's a Doctor first so he doesn't want to be contaminated by whatever bacteria people have gathered. But with you, he always seems to have a hand on you. Either harshly pinching your cheeks like a child with a crazed grin whenever you mumble something he deems stupid or pulling your arm of out its socket as he yanks you through the hallways of his lab. You act almost as his shadow, permanently glued to his feet and forced to follow wherever he goes.

You wouldn't consider yourself exceptional at your job but you did know how to listen. Perhaps it was your blatant disregard for your lack of safety since your head was always in the clouds that let you do your job with a steady hand. You don't blame your college's, it's hard to work under so much stress. If you had to do quantum physics and whatever the hell smart people do with someone who could, and would, kill you on the spot if you couldn't tell him what 3567 x 438 was on the spot, you think you could have exploded and crumbled on the spot. But you were just the ditzy receptionist who twirled a pencil on her nose more than on a paper. The only thing you were required to do was make sure Dottore was never bothered and let him know if anyone important needed his attention.

You've seen the Regrator the most compared to the rest of the Harbingers. You don't know what a banker needs from a doctor but you're not about to ask. It's not your business and you aren't paid enough to care about what your boss does. Besides, for such a handsome face his presence creeps you out which is saying something considering there's a maniacal doctor that treats human lives like numbers on a stats page. But since you are his "receptionist" you have to make conversation with him. Most of your interaction extends to him asking if the Doctor is in and you politely saying that he's out. You both pointedly ignore the loud crashes and angry yelling from one of his segments behind the closed steel door.

Once again, you don't consider yourself exceptional at your job. You're just a lousy receptionist at a place that doesn't require it and who spends all their time spinning in the office chair than doing actual work. You're just as replaceable as any grunt in this hell hole. So when Tartaglia waltzes through the doors, blinking at you with his dead fish eyes, before nodding to himself and hauling you out of your chair you can only hope that Dottore manages to remember that he has a meeting with Pantalone at noon.

You're hardly gone for an hour. Tartaglia was just bored, bored enough to come to Dottore of all people, that he happened to spot you who looked equally as bored. He just roughed you up a little before he deemed you completely useless and a horrible fighter before sending you back on your way. Seriously, if he wanted a fight he should have just picked one of the skirmishers instead of a damn receptionist. Although you may have to reconsider your position because as soon as you walk back into the lab, a girl is throwing herself at you and demanding where you've been.

You don't get the chance to answer before she's hurriedly running down twisting hallways, down the stairs, and punching in codes so complicated it looked like she was trying to make music out of them. Whatever questions you have are ignored in favor of getting you somewhere as fast as possible. It begins to make sense when you're finally shoved into a room, the girl who dragged you all this way throwing herself onto her knees and begging for forgiveness for letting you wander off.

The lab is an absolute disaster. This isn't the organized chaos you're acquainted with but the aftermath of a manic episode you're familiar with. Glass shards dripping with fluorescent liquid, research notes torn apart that flutter around the room as faux snow, and one mad doctor in the middle.

"Where have you been?"

For someone who destroyed years worth of progress, he sounds oddly calm and collected. His deep voice is firm while he fiddles with a test tube of blue liquid, watching it slosh around before placing it onto a broken table. He barely pays any mind to the girl currently on her hands and knees, forehead pressed to the ground while she glares at you to say something.

"Out," is your reply. A casual shrug of your shoulders even though the Dottore's back is to you. He's not wearing his usual white coat. That's too bad, you think it looks kinda cool. Really goes with his bird aesthetic.

"Out...out you say. Out. Out. Out," he mumbles softly, each time he say's the word "out", he taps the test tube harder onto the table. The lull in conversation only makes the pressure of the room drop lower before the tension snaps and he hurls the test tube at the girl still on her knees. It's only thanks to your reflexes that you manage to grab the collar of her uniform and throw her back just as the test tube collides with the floor, the liquid melting away the concrete where her head was. You can only give her a nudge and a look towards the door for her to scramble to her feet and flee as far away as she can. The slam of the door behind her acting as the nail in the coffin as Dottore's body seems to slump in on itself.

"Where have you been?" he asks again, running a hand through his messy hair. He sounds and looks far more tired, his fingers twitching to reach out and hold you but his pride stopping him. So you push yourself and step forward into his space, reaching your hands out to cup his face and rubbing soothing circles into his porcelain skin. He doesn't lean into your touch but he doesn't push you away either.

"Getting tossed around by Tartaglia. He came by saying he was bored and I just so happened to be there," you say absentmindedly, twirling the long lock of blue hair that hangs off the sides of his mask. He responds by snatching your wrist, squeezing hard enough until your bones creak. "Were you worried? Did you think I ran away?"

He doesn't dignify your question with a response. Simply shrugging your hands off his face before he reaches up to pinch your cheeks, a familiar cackle vibrating from his chest.

"As if you would have anywhere to go."

———

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simpingforstardew · 3 months

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lone star

pairing: sdv shane x reader

synopsis: stargazing w/ shane. this fic takes place ‘post-game’ (i.e., after the farmer receives the ‘key to the town’, and after shane begins therapy’). friends to lovers enjoyers rise up !!

warnings: angst, with comfort and fluff; descriptions of poor mental health, depression etc. stay safe. ♡

(this is crossposted from ao3).

word count: 1.9k

In the calm of the valley, the night sky stretches out in a breathtaking display: the stars shine proudly, their brilliance undimmed by city lights. Despite moving to Pelican Town four years ago, you're still awestruck by the vastness of the cosmos visible to the naked eye— a sight that would have been obscured by the city smog in Zuzu. Back there, spotting a single star was a rare blessing; seeing one that was not, in fact, just the mistaken dim glow of a passing helicopter was an even greater rarity.

Nestling your head into the sturdy hay bale beneath you, you inhale the earthy scent of dried grass mingling with the crisp night air. Above, the canopy of stars twinkles in a mesmerising dance, each constellation a story waiting to be told. Your gaze flits between the shimmering points of light, tracing the familiar patterns of the night sky.

Beside you, your loyal companion snores softly, a comforting rhythm that grounds you in the present moment. Absentmindedly, you stroke the sleeping dog's fur, feeling the warmth of their body against your fingertips. The bottles of pumpkin juice you had meticulously prepared lay forgotten on the ground, their contents untouched. Your large blanket, meant to shield you from the nocturnal chill, sits idle at your feet.

Despite the breathtaking beauty of the scene before you, a pang of guilt tugs at your heart. It feels almost selfish, you think, to bask in such a gorgeous view alone.

Without hesitation, you rise from your spot beside the barn, stretching your tight shoulders with a huff before swiftly leaping over the hardwood fence. Only one other person in town would be awake at this late hour, and you knew exactly where you would find him. You took a deep breath of the crisp air before making your way down the dirt road towards Cindersap Forest.

“Oh, sure– just let yourself in, I guess,” Shane’s gruff voice murmurs from the kitchen, “I can’t believe Lewis lets you keep that ‘Key to the Town’, fuckin’ bullshit.”

You lean against the door frame, a smirk tugging on your lips as Shane pulls out a steaming bowl of ‘JojaBrand™ Meal for One®: Pepper Poppers’ from the microwave. "Shh, you know you secretly enjoy my surprise visits, Shane," you tease, "Besides, I came over to ask you something."

“Well, are you gonna spit it out, toots, or do you plan on waking up the whole house for this announcement?” Shane grumbles, searching for a clean fork. Years ago, you found his standoffish demeanour frustrating– unfortunately for him, however, it only fuelled your desire to develop a relationship with him; to break down those walls he built up.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to stargaze with me,” you smile, a genuine toothy grin. “It’s a nice night for it.”

Shane’s eyebrows shoot up momentarily as he hesitates, glancing towards you, “You seriously came over just to ask me that?”

“You don’t have to join me if you don’t want to,” you reply, chuckling softly as you push off the door frame and turn to leave, “Just figured we hadn’t caught up in a while.”

You hear a groan coming from behind you, followed by the clattering of a bowl being discarded on the kitchen counter. He had always had a soft spot for you.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shane sighs, “Lemme grab my jacket.”

The night air is crisp as you and Shane traverse the farm. The distant sound of crickets chirping provides a soothing backdrop to the quiet countryside, interrupted only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Shane walks behind you, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his well-worn jacket; his posture stiff and guarded as always.

As you reach your spot by the barn, you unfurl the blanket and settle against the hay, gazing up at the expanse of stars above.

"So, how've you been, buddy?" you offer Shane a bottle of pumpkin juice, noting the tension in his shoulders. "Feels like I haven't seen much of you lately."

Despite Shane's usual standoffish demeanour, there is a subtle shift in his presence as he lowers himself onto the blanket beside you and grabs the juice. His shoulders relax ever so slightly, and for the first time in a long while, there is a hint of vulnerability in his gaze as he turns his attention skyward.

“I’ve been… I don’t know. Good.” Shane's voice trails off as shifts his gaze to the bottle in his hand, his shoulders slouched while his words hang heavy in the air. He drops his head against the rough surface of the hay bale behind him.

Glancing towards him, you note the furrow in his brow and the tension in his shoulders; his strong features illuminated by the moonlight. You resist the urge to press him further, allowing a comfortable silence to settle between you.

Lost in contemplation, you find solace in the vastness above.

After what felt like an eternity, Shane spoke up once more: his voice barely above a whisper.

"Any time I go shopping, like at Pierre’s or when I used to restock the shit they sold at JojaMart, I’d always feel like I’m in the way, y’know?” Shane confesses, his gaze fixed on the black velvet of the night sky. “As if someone is gonna be blocked off by me. And I know it’s not just 'cause I'm a big guy, doll, because then I leave the shop and realise that I still feel like I’m in the way.”

“Do you feel like that now?” you probe, allowing your gaze to drift towards him.

“Kinda, yeah. I always feel like that, I guess,” Shane admits, his voice tinged with resignation. He takes a swig of his juice. “Like I’m some kind of… rock stuck in a stream, with everybody else on planet Earth barging ahead around me—or some other flowery metaphor Elliot’d come up with, I don’t fucking know.”

“Is therapy helping with that feeling? Seems to me like you’re really making progress, if that means anything.” you reply, too enamoured with the contours of his side profile to notice the way his pinky finger locks with yours on the plush blanket. A promise of vulnerability.

“Sorta, but there's a pressure there as well, y’know? Gotta be happy all the time now, otherwise what was it all for? I don't even have a job anymore, I just... I’m just worried that…” Shane pauses, his fingers absentmindedly plucking at the hay behind him, “…Ah, forget it.”

“Worried that what?” You turn to face him, the spectacle of the cosmos long-forgotten.

“It's just that… what if my addiction; shitty personality; tendency to lie about the most basic crap to see people’s reaction; awful sense of humour; impulse to fall in love with someone if they’re nice to me; horrid fashion sense; inability to take a photo of myself smiling: all that crap… are all irrefutable? What if I was doomed to—”

“Shane, don’t—”

“I’ve tried… I’ve tried so hard every day of my life, (Y/n).” Shane's voice cracks, “I just… don’t wanna be a screw-up anymore.”

"Shane, you are not a screw-up," you demur, reaching out a hand to stroke his soft bicep, "You're just… human. You've already taken huge steps by just acknowledging your screw-up-ness and reaching out for help. And yeah, you have been trying, every single day. That's bravery, Shane. That's strength! I'm tired of you being the only one who doesn't see that."

The following silence is only interrupted by the distant chirping of crickets. Shane's eyes wearily scan your face for some kind of tell, as if your response was an inauthentic prank meant to lull him into a false sense of security. The bags under his eyes are shadowed and heavy. Your heart swells. “Repeat after me—”

“(Y/n), please—” pleads Shane.

“Mister Shane Andrew Miller, repeat after me!”

“Yes, Ma'am,” He chuckles, wiping away a stray tear.

“I, Shane, am a strong, brave, and amazing person; and I am going to be okay.”

“I’m a strong, brave, amazing person… and I'm gonna be okay.”

“Louder!”

“I'm gonna be okay!” He shouts— hands cupped around his mouth to bellow into the sleeping farm. After a nervous chuckle, Shane resigns to a slouch as he looks towards you with a blush warming his cheeks.

“Feel a little better?”

“I feel like a jack-ass,” Shane mumbles,“But yeah, a little.”

“Good,” you reach your hand out to caress his cheek, your thumb tracing patterns in his stubble when he leans into the touch, “and you only looked a little like a jack-ass.”

“Fuck off,” Shane laughs, the banter bringing a familiar light to his eyes, as he shoves your hand away playfully.

You both stay like that for a moment after the laughter dies down, embraced by the warmth of each other's silent company— one of you occasionally turning to retell the latest town gossip, or reference an inside joke neither of you can remember the origins of.

“I should, uh, be heading back now,” Shane moves to stand up, groaning as he stretches his legs, “Penny's taking the kiddo to the community centre tomorrow for some arts and crafts, and I gotta be up early to pack her lunch.”

You look up at his looming form, only now realising how long you had both been out here for.

“Of course, no worries,” you clumsily rise to your feet as your lips quiver with a tentative grin, a delicate curve that hovers on the precipice of expression. “Um, tell Jas I say ‘Hi’, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Shane replies, the awkwardness palpable, “Night, (Y/n),”

“Goodnight,” you raise your hand in a half-hearted wave as you watch his slouching figure turn to leave.

He makes it a couple steps, barely out of reach, before a surge of courage propels you forward. Reaching out to grasp the sleeve of Shane’s frayed hoodie before doubt can inhibit your impulsion, you pull him towards you.

Your lips crash on his in a rush of fervent emotion. One of Shane’s calloused hands instinctively rises to the nape of your neck; the other wraps around your waist as he pulls you closer, desperately. Bodies flush against each other as his fingers tangle in your hair.

A tingling sensation runs through your body. You reach up to gently cup his face as he deepened the kiss, his trembling lips continue moving against yours with a gentle urgency. In this moment, nothing else matters - no worries or fears, no past or future, no moon or stars.

Your heart races as you both pull away.

“To be clear, if this is, like, a pity thing or whatever,” Shane mumbles, his lips tickling your own as he attempts to catch his breath. “That’s um– that’s fine by me, I don’t… I wasn’t expecting this.”

“No that wasn’t… um,” You rest your forehead on his, closing your eyes as you attempt to calm your frantically beating heart, “I just… wanted to kiss you.”

Shane laughs as he brings both hands to your face, cupping your cheeks as he kisses you once more. This was different, however: gentle, soft, yet just as vulnerable. You look up at him, eye’s shining with the light from the stars, as you admire the softness of his usually stern features.

“You were right, this was a nice night to stargaze.”

#sdv fanfic #sdv shane #sdv x reader #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley #sdv shane x reader #sdv shane x farmer #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley shane #stardew valley shane x reader #sdv angst #sdv fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #friends to lovers #sdv fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 writer #shane stardew valley

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velvetydream · 4 months

Text

꒰ :🥀 [ Just for a minute ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Angel came back rather late again like always, or rather early. You decide to join him in his room with anything he needs as comfor tand maybe you end up risking your soul for the one you love.

Pairing : Angel Dust x Reader

Word count : 1549 Words

Genre : Comfort, Soft, Angst

Warnings ➵ Mentioning of Angels workplace and job,

deal with Alastor

a/n : Even if this is a comfort fic, please be aware that it mentions heavy themes, so if you do not feel in the right mind, go back and read smth else please, take care everyone!♡

If you need any help or someone to talk to, here is a site to help search for helplines in your country♡ -> HELPLINES

┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡

It was early in the morning when Angel came back from working the whole night, body exhausted and sore. No one even awake yet, all of the others getting the rest, he wished to have. Fat nuggets already slumbering on his pillow, as Angel finally laid down ready to sleep his worries away.

Now it was hours later, the hotel echoing with voices and laughter. Alastor was getting on Vaggie and Husk's nerves, Niffty was off like the little maniac she is hunting down roaches, while you and Charlie enjoyed a quiet talk over some tea. Just slowly you noticed, that you hadn't seen Angel at all this day, it was almost noon which was unusual even for him. "Sorry to interrupt you Charls, but did you see Angel at all today?" Taking a look around, now it also doomed on Charlie that Angel was nowhere to be seen. Shaking her head now, you bid your goodbye to Charlie for now, mentioning how you would be going to check on Angel.

The white spider surely had a special place in your heart already now, so you were really worried, especially knowing he had to work last night.

Walking up the stairs and to Angel's room, the pink LED heart with spidery lines around it shone softly on your face, inside the heart were four pictures he had hung up together. One was of his pet pig Fat Nuggets, one was with Charlie hugging him, him with Niffty and Husk, the last one was of you and Angel, your arms laying comfortable around his neck, as you press a soft kiss on his cheek, written under the picture was > My love <.

Angel and you were not yet official, but almost everyone in this hotel could see that your affection and love for each other was beyond that of just friends.

Raising your hand now, you softly knock on the door, it takes a few seconds, but you can hear Angel's muffled voice invite you inside. In the room, your heart was breaking. He layed on his bed all curled together, Fat nuggets in his arm, the blanket pulled up to his chin. The room was chaotic, probably not really having had the chance to clean up yet.

"Oh sweets, it's you.." Angel looked over his shoulder, before sitting up as he noticed it was you standing in her room. His face looked tired, yet he still tried to smile. It hurt you to see him like this and you swore you would do anything you could to get him out of his contract. "Oh baby, you don't have to smile, I know you're not okay, so come here.." Walking over to him, your hand softly glides over his head now as you pull him into a hug. It took him a second to realize what was happening, before he laid his arms around you, letting out an exhausted sigh. "I'm sorry.. Last night was.. rough.." Resting his head against your stomach, as his arms hold your waist softly. You assumed it was, he looked more tired than usual.

"Let's lay down hm? Do you want to tell me about it?" Guiding him, you lay down on his bed, slightly propped up against the headrest, as you pull Angel to rest on your chest. Slowly feeling his body starting to relax against yours. "I'd rather not talk about it right now.. Let's just cuddle a bit.." Angel already closed his eyes, as your hand runs up and down his back, noticing a soft smile on his face from the caressing of your hands. It warms your heart to know that Angel felt this safe and comfortable with you. Pressing a kiss to his head now, making him look up at you with a smile. "With what did I deserve that?" Smiling back at him, your hand resting on his cheek now, your thumb running up and down. "Just wanted to show how much I love you.." Angel's eyes grow wide as your lips softly press a kiss to his forehead next. You two never voiced anything about loving one another, so this was making his heart jump and happy.

"I love you too.." Hiding his face in the crook of your neck now, you could feel some wetness on your shoulder, but you don't mention, that he deserves to be able to cry to his heart's content. You were going to be here through it all, holding Angel in your arms, making sure he knew that he was safe with you.

After napping together, you hand Angel off to Charlie and Vaggie, making sure they will take care of him now and make sure he eats a good warm, and hearty meal, exusing yourself with the excuse that you have something to attend to.

Standing in front of a certain red-haired deer demon's room now. Knocking and entering as you were called inside. "Greetings my dear! What can I help you with?" The cheerful voice of Alastor boomed through the room, as he came over to you, towering over you with his height. "I want to make a deal." Ears immediately turning to you, his smirk grew wider. You knew this was probably the worst idea ever, but you would do anything and everything for Angel. "Splendid! What is your proposal darling? Do tell me!" Alastor was always keen on making deals with people, especially if it would perhaps end in him having another soul. "I want you to help me get Angel out of his contract with Valentino. Tell me what you want in return and you will get it."

His eyes were watching you the whole time, acting as if he was thinking of what he wanted, despite knowing exactly what he would ask for such a big favor. "Well my dear, that is quite a big favor to ask for! So.. Your soul bound to me, for in return I will free your darling little Angel of his chains!" Holding out his hand now, green shining from it, as his smirk got bigger and his eyes turned to dials. Hesitating for a second, but in the end, you shake his hand with determination. Chains manifesting themselves around your neck, the end in his hand now, as he looks at them smirking before they disappear again. "Great to make a deal with you sweetheart! Well then, on to me fulfilling my side of the deal!" Before you knew it, he was gone inside his shadow, you had no idea what he was going to do, but you do trust him.

Your back hits the door now as the realization sinks in, your soul is now in his hands, but if that meant Angel would be free from Valentino, you would do it again in a heartbeat anytime.

While waiting for Alastor, you decided to look for the others for now, finding them all in the foyer to have a little game. Joining them, Husk's eyes immediately fell upon you, noticing something was up, but he didn't dare ask in front of everyone else right now. The game Charlie came up with went on for quite a while, a certain radio demon striding into the foyer and over to you with a smirk. Presented to you now was a gold scroll, you look up to Alastor as he nods - Angels contract. Everyone's eyes were on you, especially Angel's wide ones, as you took the scroll into your hands.

Quickly you were pulled up and after Angel, to his room. "What does this mean? What did you do?!" His eyes were staring at the scroll, as you slowly unrolled it in front of him. On it was his signature, which was all he had to see. Looking him in the eyes, you tear up the paper in front of him, before letting it glide to the floor. "You're free Anthony.." He dropped to his knees upon hearing his name fall from your lips, tears already streaming down his face, he was free? Free from Valentino and that damned studio? His hands desperately reaching out to you, as you sink to your knees in front of him, letting him pull you into a hug. "How? Why..?" He couldn't get his head around how or why you did it, in the deepest part of him he knew, but he needed to hear you say it. "How? Well, let's say I'm on the leash of a certain demon in this hotel now and why? Because I love you, you deserve to be happy and free." Sobbing now echoed in the room, as you just held him through all those emotions he was feeling right now.

"I'm sorry.." Apologizing to you, he looks up, his eyes red and teary. You smile at him, telling him he had nothing to be sorry about and that it was your own will to give your soul for his. While Alastor might be just as bad, if not even worse, than Valentino, as long as you listen to him, you will be just fine. "I love you okay? I never want to see you like this ever again, okay?" Nodding now, he leans down and catches your lips in a soft kiss. The first one of many to follow.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x you #angel dust #angel dust x reader #angel dust x you #angel dust imagine #hazbin imagine #Anthony #anthony x reader #hazbin hotel anthony

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riddlesb1tch · 6 months

Text

Opposites Attract

Part 1

Azriel x reader

summary: you’re messy and unorganized, love staying up late and sleeping in in the morning, so what’s going to happen when you’re forced to work with the shadowsinger, the most disciplined person you’ve ever met?

warnings: none!

a/n: this is the most I’ve written in a while but I’m liking how this is turning out. I feel like this could’ve been one part but I don’t really wanna write a 10k word fic so I’ve decided this is gonna be a series. hope you enjoy <3

~●○°●○°●○~

Azriel, by your viewpoint, had always only been the Spymaster, the epitome of propriety, with an excellent work ethic and an affinity for discipline. For that reason, you felt like you’d never get along with him.

You were messy, unorganized and a little clumsy on occasion. This always led to some interesting stories later on and a lot of teasing from the rest of your family. You pretended to be annoyed at them, rolling your eyes at their snide comments and making fun of their flaws in return, but secretly you loved when they let loose.

Azriel, however, never joined in on this teasing, despite the two of you having known each other for well over a decade. You assumed that it was your lack of discipline that irked him and so he chose to stay away but the High Lord didn't consider this before meddling.

it was a Sunday morning when, in your half-dazed state, you made your way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

"Y/n," Rhysand called from behind you.

You groaned in response, not bothering to turn around to face him. It was way too early to be seeing people.

He stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, no doubt waiting for a more proper acknowledgement of the High Lord of the Night Court. When he realized he wasn’t going to get it, he huffed and proceeded with what he needed to say.

"I need some reports filed quickly so from tomorrow you're gonna be working with Azriel to get them to me by the end of the month," Rhysand stated.

Your eyes widened, now feeling more awake than the strongest coffee had made you in the morning. You whipped your head around to face the smirking High Lord, knowing fully well this wasn't an urgent task but a way for Rhysand and Feyre to intervene in your love life. The inner circle loved to joke that because you and Azriel were opposites of each other, you’d get along great. It was all fun and games until Feyre got obsessed with the idea of actually giving you and Azriel a try regardless of whether you and Azriel wanted to or not.

“Can’t someone else do it?” You asked. “Why does it have to be me?”

“Because everyone else is busy doing their work. Besides, Azriel will be a good influence on you. Maybe he can teach you some discipline.” That smirk was still on his face and you’ve never wished more for Feyre’s abilities to make animals out of water. You’d love to leave a bear on Rhysand right about now, but unfortunately, he was your High Lord and his wish is your command, so you settled for the next best thing.

“Your shirt is covered in lint,” you side-eyed and walked out with your coffee cup in hand, leaving a gaping Rhysand swatting at his clothes.

At least you still had the day to prepare yourself for tomorrow.

After training, you were in your room having just come out of the shower. Someone knocked on your door and you had a feeling you knew who it was but strongly hoped against it. You made your way to the door and right before you could open it, your foot caught in a shirt on the ground and you fell with a loud thud.

Grimacing, you stood up, rubbing your elbow where it hit the floor. Opening the door, you saw Azriel standing on the other side with a smirk, no doubt because of your fall. Gods you couldn’t even open the door without being clumsy. Meanwhile, Azriel stood his back straight, shoulders pulled back, wings neatly folded and hands behind his back. He looked like the definition of grace.

You truly were opposites.

“Y/n,” he nodded in greeting, ignoring the knowledge of your fall to save you from further embarrassment.

You smiled slightly in return.

“I’ve been informed that we’re working on the reports together till the end of the month,” he stated.

“That’s correct,” you confirmed.

He nodded. “Meet me in my study tomorrow morning at 8,” Azriel said and walked away.

You stood startled for a second before calling after him, “Eight in the morning? Are you serious?”

Azriel turned around with a confused expression. “Yes.”

“Who starts work at 8 in the morning?” You questioned in disbelief.

“I normally start work at 6 but for you, I’m starting late. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave a final nod of farewell before turning around and walking away.

You gaped, internally cursing Rhysand for putting you in this situation. For a person like you who preferred to spend nights awake reading, eight in the morning was like the middle of the night. You didn’t know how you’d survive like this until the month's end. Groaning, you shut the door and slumped face-first into bed.

Cauldron have mercy.

~●○°●○°●○~

The next morning came around sooner than you were ready for. You’d set an alarm for 6 so you’d have ample time to wake up, enjoy your morning coffee, take a shower, and be ready for a day of torture. However, when 6 A.M. rolled around, getting trampled by a horse in your sleep sounded better than waking up, so you snoozed your alarm and fell back asleep.

When Mor burst into your room, you woke with a start.

“Good morning, princess!” she yelled, walking in wearing her night clothes still but looking as if she was ready for a night out at Rita’s.

“What time is it?” you gasped, frantically reaching for the clock at your bedside.

Mor jumped onto your bed. “What's up?”

8:02 A.M.

“Fuck!” you screamed, jumping out of bed and running to the bathroom. “I'm late!”

You shut the bathroom door, rushing about your morning routine, brushing your teeth, then hair, and slapping on some moisturizer.

“Relax! He lives in the same house!” Mor shouted from your bedroom.

You rushed out of the bathroom, reaching for the pair of shorts on the floor. “Yes, but we live in very different worlds,” you replied, slipping on the shorts and looking around for a shirt.

Mor lay on your bed, head propped up on one arm, and looked at you with an amused expression.

You threw on a random shirt you found in the closet and started to tie your hair into a messy bun. Mor took in your look and frowned. “Are we sure that top works with those shorts?” she asked.

You looked at her incredulously. “I don’t care about that right now!” you exclaimed. “Where are my shoes?” you went on your knees to look under the bed and pulled out a pair of white shoes you’d kicked under there last night. You glanced at the clock while putting on shoes and cursed under your breath.

“Girl, you know he’s not going to eat you alive if you’re 20 minutes late right?” Mor asked.

“No, but with the amount of lecturing I'm about to get, he might as well,” you sighed, getting off the bed and finally heading out the door.

“Good luck!” Mor called behind you as you headed to the door.

“Thanks,” you replied and rushed outside.

~●○°●○°●○~

Azriel’s study door was ajar so you peeked your head in to make sure he was there.

Azriel was sitting in his chair, head down, looking over some paperwork when you walked in.

“Good morning,” you greeted, going to sit in the chair opposite his. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

Azriel looked at the clock then at you, and said, “You’re earlier than any of us expected, actually.”

You were taken aback slightly by the statement. “Us?” you asked.

“Rhysand, Cassian and I,” he replied. “In fact, you just cost me quite a bit by being only twenty minutes late.”

Now you were straight-up offended. “You three bet that I’d slack off?”

You felt rage towards Cassian and Rhysand for thinking so little of you, but you decided to deal with them later. For now, you were stuck with Azriel for a good eight hours, and those were not going to be easy if you were upset with him the whole time. So, you shook his words off and put on a smile.

“So what are we doing?” you asked.

#azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fluff #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x reader

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banggyu0308 · 10 months

Text

01:21AM // Choi Yeonjun

choi yeonjun x fem!reader

summary: sneaking out to the hotel pool after it's closed is probably the highlight of you staying with your boyfriend while his band is on tour

genre: smut

warnings: pool sex, nipple play, dacryphilia, slight scratching kink, creampie, yeonjun talks about himself in third person a couple times, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, exhibitionism, yeonjun calls reader 'baby', i wouldn't want to swim in this pool afterwards

word count: 2k

a/n: read the rest of my 'like our summer' fics here!!

taglist: @sunnibearr @dido-of-the-endless @tyunkus @boba-beom

"C'mon, no one's gonna see us, and even if they do, it's not like we're gonna get in trouble!" Yeonjun grins at you in the semi-darkness. His hand is wrapped loosely around your wrist, tugging you closer to him. Before you can protest, he continues. "The hotel can't kick us out, we're probably the most famous people that have ever stayed here. And it's so late that no one is gonna even be awake right now!"

You're still not sure. Someone COULD be awake, someone COULD see you, and if they can't prove you're Yeonjun's friend, they're only gonna guess that you're dating.

But... The wide smile on his face makes you roll your eyes and give in, slipping your hand so instead of his hand around your wrist, his fingers are linked with yours. Yeonjun pumps his fist in the air once and hisses a small excited "yes!" before dragging you outside.

The air is hot and it's more than a little humid, as expected. You pull your t-shirt over your head to expose your bathing suit, then tug off your shorts as well. You slip into the pool as quietly as you can, stifling a shocked yelp when Yeonjun cannonballs into the water next to you.

You grab his arm when he surfaces with a stupid grin plastered on his face. He pulls away easily from you, water making his arms slick, and you grab his shoulders instead. "I thought we were supposed to be quiet!!"

He submerges himself completely under the water and swims away, the water lapping at the edges of the pool from his movements. "But quiet is no fun."

You glare at him and he purses his lips, rolling his eyes at you this time. "Fine. No more cannonballs. But-" Yeonjun swims closer to you, then wraps his arms around your waist, trapping you against his chest. "You have to promise to lighten up. It's supposed to be fun!"

You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes, exhaling softly. He's warm and you can hear his heartbeat, the sound making a small smile tilt the corners of your lips. "Can we just stay like this though? This is comfy..."

You're whining a little, which is NOT usually your look, but Yeonjun rests his cheek on the top of your head so... You guess it works. "Just for a little bit, since it's late and we should be sleeping, but then you have to swim!! What's the point of doing this in the first place if you're not going to swim?"

"Let me remind you, this was your idea," you mumble, only half listening to him.

"Yes, and it's a great one."

You scoff lightly and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Sure."

The both of you are quiet for a moment, the only sound the pool pump draining more water into the pool, and the grates on the edge of the pool taking the old water out.

Yeonjun lowers his lips to your ear and for a second, your breath catches like it did whenever he got this close when you just had a crush on him. He can 100% feel the way your heart races at the proximity, and the idea makes your cheeks grow hot, but you wait for his words.

"You look really pretty in this lighting..."

Your face gets even warmer before you realize something that makes you sputter out a laugh, water getting in your mouth and making you choke momentarily. Yeonjun looks so confused and you wave him away while you recover. "In the dark, Jjunie?? You think I look pretty when you can't see me???"

His eyes widen and his cheeks go pink in the almost pitch-black night. "N-no, I meant, I can see you just fine, the sky, and the- I..."

The flustered look on his face is worth everything, and you leave a reassuring kiss on his shoulder. "It's alright, I'm just messing with you..."

You're quiet again, eyes focused on him for a moment before you kiss him gently, hands on either side of his face.

You can feel Yeonjun's heartbeat speed up when he kisses you back, lips chasing yours when you break the kiss. His hands find your thighs and you let out a slight yelp when he tugs you farther onto his lap. You recover quickly, a slow smirk finding its way across your features when your hips roll down against his.

Yeonjun's eyes go wide again and his jaw goes slack. "Yn..."

His tone is more breathless than warning. You can't help your amused expression, instead trying to cover it by leaving a small line of hickeys up the side of his neck.

Your name falling from Yeonjun's lips again makes you look up, and you're met with Yeonjun looking down at you with more than a little lust in his eyes. That surprises you, but when he shakes his head to stop you from continuing, you smile. That's a little more in character for this situation.

"But Jjunie..." You pull your lips in a pout, thumb brushing over the corner of his lips. "Weren't you the one who said no one would see us~?"

"W-well, yes, but swimming in the pool is one thing, this is another..."

You silence him with another kiss, prepared to take the lead this time, but Yeonjun's grip tightens on your hips. Wordlessly, he slips one hand between your legs, lips practically battering yours. He tugs your bathing suit to the side, fingers finding your slick clit under the water and making one smooth circle.

You're incapable of anything other than stuttering when his pace picks up, a small whimper slipping from your trapped lips.

Yeonjun tsks, free hand moving to tilt your chin up. "Thought you said we had to be quiet... Can't have them finding us, now can we? It'd be so humiliating for you for them to see how fucked out my pretty baby gets on my cock..~"

The tone of his voice catches you off guard first, and by the time you comprehend his words, your mind is unable to think anything clearly. You can only tug at the waistband of his swim trunks, a small noise of amusement coming from his throat.

"Even more humiliating when she's whining at just my fingers..." He raises his eyebrows, moving you off of his lap and hooking his thumbs under his swim trunks. He makes a show of tugging them lower on his hips and tugging loosely at his cock once. Yeonjun pulls you into his lap once more with a grin, red tip of his dick pressing against your leaking entrance.

He doesn't make a further move, instead busying himself with running his pointer finger over your clothed nipple once, twice, and again. Your back arches into his touch, inadvertently taking him further into you, and Yeonjun lets a shadow of a disappointed emotion flicker across his face before one of pity takes its spot. "Baby's so greedy... when did you get so selfish? Let Jjunie take his time, hm?"

You bite your lip briefly before nodding, letting him lick and pinch at your nipples while your head rocks back at the pleasure.

Minutes go by and he makes no sign of wanting to stop anytime soon, enjoying your whines and moans and how tears of frustration well up in your eyes at the teasing. Your hands claw at his hair, whimpering out a small, "Jjun, please, need more..."

He smirks lightly, letting his hips fit just a half-inch closer to yours. "Better~?"

You cling to him, face in his neck, breathing ragged. "N-no, please, please, 've let you have fun, need..."

Yeonjun lets out a huff of impatience before suddenly pinning your hips to his pelvis, his pace slowed by the water, but still brutal enough that your nails dig into his back from the sudden stimulation. A choked sob wrenches itself from its place in your throat when he does, the tears that had previously built up in your lash line finally spilling down your cheeks.

Your rapacious walls are eager for everything you can get, tightening around him the second he's fully inside you, and Yeonjun hisses through his teeth. Obviously, he expected you to be tight once he finally had his way with you, but not like this, nothing like this. Gummy walls clamping down around him so tight he can't breathe, nails scratching red down his back, he's sure they'll be visible to the members tomorrow, but right now, he couldn't care less.

"So fuckin' good for me, taking me so well, fuck baby..." His face is in the crook of your neck, shaky exhales heating your skin.

The water sloshing around you splashes you in the face briefly and you spit it out, a whimper leaving your swollen lips when his speed never ceases. "Jjunie, Jjunie, gon' cum, please please please..."

Usually, Yeonjun'd mess with you a bit more, but he can't resist seeing you like this. Hair dripping with chlorinated water, face blotchy and streaked with tears... he can't help giving in. "Go ahead, baby, your Jjunie's right there with you, alright?"

You nod quickly, swallowing another watery moan when your walls convulse around him, your whole body shaking in absolution. Yeonjun lets himself get lost in the feeling of you around him for just a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth, hips stuttering and bucking into yours before he paints your insides.

You hold onto each other for a few moments before collapsing into giggles, Yeonjun holding onto your hand to help you out of the pool.

Your combined elated mumbles as you walk back into the hotel, dripping with more than just the water, include, "so much for being quiet..." "says YOU, you were the loud one, you get such a mess so fast 🙄" "..." "..." "I hope they clean the pool before tomorrow morning... soobin said he wants to swim..."

#adas hard hours #yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun hard thoughts #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #tomorrow x together smut #tomorrow x together hard thoughts #tomorrow x together hard hours

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blue-devil-of-the-lord · 19 days

Note

i'm so happy you're writing for nightcrawler! he's my favorite and its criminal how little fanfic there is of him out there. could i request a slight hurt/comfort fic? kurt has a habit of sitting in the dark in the mansion (its quiet and peaceful for him), and fem!reader finds him up late one night. kurt is completely enamored with reader, so he doesn't want to burden her with his problems, but she gets kurt talking and slowly finds out that the bad memories of his past are keeping him up. kurt walks reader back to her room, and she tells him that if he ever wanted to talk or needed someone, she was there for him. kurt takes her hand, kisses it, and cant resist saying that merely being around her was enough for him to rest easy that night.

i'm sorry this was so long! thank you!

And only the stars will know

Kurt Wagner x fem!reader Words: 1.9K Warnings: slight hurt/comfort, but very faint A/N: Thanks so much for requesting. I feel like I didn't quite get the tone but I hope you like it anyway :)

It was a cold, starry night, the kind of night when you prefer to wrap yourself in a blanket, a hot drink in your hand and stare at the night sky from the windowsill. She was wrapped in a blanket, but she was a long way from her bed as she leaned against the doorframe to the balcony.

Her original plan had been to rush to her classroom and retrieve the papers she had left there, but the cool breeze in the corridors had distracted her from her plan.

Thinking someone had left a window open, she had followed the cold, even though her shivering body protested strongly against it, and ended up at the balcony. The doors were slightly ajar, leading her to think, as she had previously assumed, that one of the students had simply forgotten to close them.

However, just as she put her hand on the handle, she thought she recognized a person in the pale moonlight.

It was hard to make out, at first she thought she was imagining it, but when the clouds cleared the moon for a moment, she could clearly make out the outline of a person. A very familiar person.

She knew he was capable of it, after all, he had explained it to her, but it was the first time she had really experienced Kurt's ability to merge with the shadows and the darkness. Now that she knew he was sitting on the railing of the balcony, she could spot him, but she still had to make an effort to actually see him. Normally she would have spoken to him, but she didn't recognize the usually cheeky, flirtatious man, which had made her pause at the door frame.

Kurt had pulled his legs close to his body and hidden his head in his folded arms. His tail, which usually curled and swung back and forth in a bold and amused manner, was wrapped tightly around his body and didn't move a bit.

He must have been sitting out here for some time, because his body had started to shiver a few minutes after she found him and she couldn't stand it any longer. She carefully pushed the door open further, giving a soft squeak, but he didn't react, causing the worry line on her forehead to deepen, as he was usually so attentive. She shuffled quietly across the balcony, the stone icy cold beneath her bare feet, but he only noticed her when she carefully placed the blanket that had warmed her earlier around his shoulders.

He flinched and looked at her with wide, golden eyes, which she returned with a slight smile. She noticed that it was instantly easier for her to recognize him, as if he was making a conscious effort to remain visible.

„Meine Liebe, why are you still awake?" Her smile widened when she heard the nickname he honored her with. It wasn't much and in a language she didn't really speak, but it made her heart beat faster every time. "I could ask you the same thing, Kurt." She climbed carefully onto the railing next to him, careful not to fall. He seemed to have the same concern, as once she was seated, his tail detached itself from its place around his legs and wrapped itself around her waist.

"I couldn't sleep," she replied anyway, leaning forward slightly and adjusting the blanket so that it completely enveloped Kurt. It was only when she leaned back again that she noticed he had one arm hovering around her shoulders in case she lost her balance. Her smile softened and when he withdrew his arm, she reached for his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "And you, honey?"

Kurt let his eyes wander over her face for a moment before turning them skywards. "Same with me." That answer shouldn't have worried her as much as it did. It wasn't like him to answer so curtly or to avoid her gaze. Thinking back to her conversations with Kurt, she couldn't remember him ever letting his eyes wander far from her.

Still, she tried not to be too pressuring and instead attempted humor. "I doubt that. You don't need to read twenty-two essays on Shakespeare to deprive you of sleep." That elicited a slight smirk from him, but it didn't come close to the broad smile she was used to seeing from him. "Not quite, no."

Kurt pulled the blanket into place and she felt the grip of his tail tighten a little around her hips, but said nothing, just watched him in silence. His hands were in his lap and she could see that he was wringing them, apparently not knowing what to do with them. Her eyes traveled up over his tense posture to his face.

His mouth, usually twisted into a toothy smile, was now nothing more than a barely recognizable line and his eyes, usually glowing with energy, looked dull and sad. She couldn't bear to look at him. Kurt was important to her, one of the most important people in her life, and seeing him like this broke her heart.

"Kurt?" Her voice was soft and tentative and he didn't look directly at her, but when he did, his face looked tired, exhausted and resigned. Slowly, so that he had enough time to pull back, she lifted her hand and brushed a few strands of hair from his face before resting her hand on his cheek. "You know you can talk to me? If there's something on your mind... I'm here for you."

For a brief moment, his features softened and he smiled, just slightly but it was a genuine smile. "I know, meine Liebe. It's just a few bad memories. Nothing to burden your mind with." Gently, she let her hand move from his cheek to his hand so that she was now holding both of them in hers.

"Shouldn't it be up to me to decide?"?“

Kurt was silent for a long time and she almost thought he was going to turn away, but he let out a deep, almost sad chuckle and shook his head. "God, you're one of a kind, aren't you? What did I do to deserve the honor of your attention?"

"There was nothing to earn," she whispered. "It was yours from the beginning."

This seemed to leave him speechless for a moment, but when he caught himself, his expression softened, the worry line gone. "It was just a few bad memories," he explained and it took her a moment to realize that he was answering her previous question. "Usually they can't hurt me, but sometimes-"

"-they just come up, no matter how much you've distanced yourself from them," she finished his broken sentence and Kurt nodded slightly.

„Ja.“ His eyes wandered from her face to the lands of the Xavier Institute. "I have found my role, my place, in this world. I am surrounded by people who accept me for who I am, love me for who I am." For a few seconds, his gaze flickered over to her. "But that wasn't always the case."

That sad look she couldn't stand came into his eyes again and he withdrew his hands. "I was fine for a while, in the circus. They may not have all loved me, but I was accepted and respected. That was all I wanted. But outside-" His tail loosened from her hip and curled around his drawn-on legs again.

"Monster, they called me. Freak. Spawn of hell. Abominable. Dangerous..." She curled her fingers into her thighs. Kurt didn't deserve this kind of treatment. He was an angel, wonderful and magnificent, and the fact that people didn't treat him like this infuriated her.

Kurt let out a gasp. "I know none of this is true. I'm not a monster, not a spawn of hell, not abominable, but..."

"It still hurts." He nodded and she felt her heart break in her chest. "Oh Kurt..." She didn't care that they were sitting on the railing of a balcony that hovered several meters above the ground, but acted on instinct.

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the blue mutant. He froze for a few seconds, but quickly recovered from his shock.

Under her touch, she could feel him relax and bury his face in her hair while his hands clawed at her back. It didn't hurt, but even if it did, she wouldn't say anything. Something slowly wrapped around her middle and it took her a little too long to realize it was his tail.

"You don't deserve this. You least of all of us," she murmured into his chest and felt his grip on her tighten. "You're a wonderful person, an angel, and I'm very grateful to know you." There was silence between them, though neither of them was uncomfortable. She snuggled against him as he buried his face in her hair and his arms and tail wrapped around her.

The softly breathed "thank you" was carried away by the wind, but she heard it anyway and wrapped her arms around him even tighter. If it had been a warmer night, she could have stayed in his arms for hours, but this night was cold and she soon began to shiver, despite the warmth radiating from Kurt's body.

At first she tried to suppress it, not wanting to let the moment go, but over time her trembling became so bad that Kurt noticed it as well and broke away from her, eliciting a complaining whimper from her. He, however, paid no attention and just looked at her with wide, worried eyes. "Meine Liebe, you're freezing to death. Why are you wearing such thin clothes?"

"It wasn't really the plan to go out," she confessed through chattering teeth and Kurt swung himself elegantly from the railing to offer her his hand. She gratefully accepted it and as soon as her feet touched the cold ground, she felt something warm envelop her.

Kurt had put the blanket back around her shoulders as well as wrapping his arm around her middle. He smiled down at her and finally he looked the way she knew he would - wide, fang-toothed smile, bright eyes and a curling tail.

"Come on, my dear, let's go inside. After all, I can't risk my favorite person catching a cold, can I?" She grinned slightly and really hoped he couldn't see the blush in her cheeks. From his smile, he very well could. " Don't let Rogue hear you say that."

He chuckled softly and led her through the hallways to her room. She stopped in front of her door, the blanket wrapped tightly around her, and looked up at him as he began to melt into the shadows again, though this time she had no trouble spotting him.

"Sweet dreams," he murmured with a smile and she lightly smiled.

"You too. And Kurt?" she called back to him as he tried to turn around. Her smile turned a little sheepish.

"If you have bad dreams again or are plagued by bad memories... My door is open to you. Any time."

Kurt's smile widened and his tail curled slightly at the tip as he carefully took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. "Don't worry, meine Liebe." He looked up at her through his lashes and his gaze was so soft and appealing at the same time that she felt like she would instantly burst. "

Just this time near you will be enough to keep me from having bad dreams for the next few weeks."

He gently let go of her hand, winked at her and disappeared into a dark cloud with a slight 'bamf'.

Frozen, blushing heavily, she stood there and looked at the spot where Kurt had been standing before she chuckled softly and turned towards her room. God, this man....

#x men #x men movies #x men comics #x men 97 #x men the animated series #nightcrawler #kurt wagner #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #x men x reader

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

Text

Captain John Price Masterlist

➺ All works are F!Reader

➺ 18+ fics will be marked & all works will be sorted from most recent upload to least recent.

➺ Popular fics will be marked with a '✧'

ONE-SHOTS:

✎ CHOKE ON THE SUN - Angst, torture, 7k event fic, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [You'd known John ever since the Academy, and even after losing touch, the love you had for one another was never gone. Like a snake, it had stayed hidden in unseen places. But it was always there.] ❞

✎ ALL, MOST, SOME, NONE - Heavy angst, character(s) death

╰┈➤ ❝ [Snow melts in the heat of blood.] ❞

✎ LIONS AND IBEXES - Canon-typical violence, wife!reader from 'I'll Take the Nightshift'

╰┈➤ ❝ [Impulsive was what John always called you - affectionately, of course. But he sure does worry when you disappear without him.] ❞

✎ GLORY TO THE REAPER - Angst, pining, hurt/comfort, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [He was strange, you admitted to yourself. Always around even when you didn't want him to be. But perhaps the Brit just might surprise you.] ❞

✎ OUR REMAINS - Pregnancy, angst, fluffy ending, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.] ❞

✎ ORIGAMI BOATS - Connected to 'See No Evil', stalking mentions, trauma, protective!Price

╰┈➤ ❝ [Wounds of the mind are harder to heal than wounds of the body. But can John ever stop blaming himself?] ❞

✎ COMFORTS OF HOME - 18+, housewife!reader, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [Good are the days when you wake up and John is already beside you.] ❞

✎ THE FIVE TIMES - Fluff, awkwardness, inner turmoil

╰┈➤ ❝ [You've never been in a relationship before - at least, one that was romantic. And then on the off chance when you're lending an old book to a childhood friend, you meet John.] ❞

✎ I'LL TAKE THE NIGHT SHIFT - Torture, wife!reader, suggestive, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [Before you knew it, John was gone - taken from right under your nose and leaving you no choice but to retreat without him. But you would do anything to get him back, even go into the lion’s den itself.] ❞

✎ CHEATING HEART - 18+, toxic relationship (previous), cheating, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [Your feelings for John were wrong - horribly wrong - but when you see your current boyfriend in bed with another woman, what's to hold you back anymore?] ❞

✎ SEE NO EVIL - Stalking, intense gore, suggestive, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [The flowers came every week - Tuesday, two O’clock, two minutes after your break. The only problem was that you knew they weren’t coming from John.] ❞

✎ LUSTFUL GOLD AND A CRIMSON-STAINED TONGUE - 18+

╰┈➤ ❝ [It was supposed to be simple - an intel Op. in some Russian arms dealer's mansion. Hell, you were actually looking forward to it, especially with the way John was undressing you with his eyes. You hoped that the red silk dress you had gotten made it through the night.] ❞

✎ LET ME LEAN ON YOU - Intense gore, enemies-to-lovers, suggestive, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [You have a bad habit of putting yourself in harm’s way, enraging John to no end. But can you survive a wound like this? Or will everything you hate to love about John Price never see the light of day?] ❞

✎ THE TRACES HE LEFT BEHIND - Angst, grief, mentions of death, ✧

╰┈➤ ❝ [You had never expected the dog tags to be so heavy, but now, as they sit in your hands, they’re just about the heaviest object you’ve ever held. M.I.A doesn’t mean John’s dead...but it might as well.] ❞

✎ BABY BLUES - Angst, gore, abductions

╰┈➤ ❝ [The promise of a normal Sunday is lost when your door is torn open, and, you, kidnapped. All you can do is pray that John finds you in time.] ❞

MULTI-PART WORKS:

➺ DAUGHTER!READER:

✎ MEMORIES OF YOUTH - Angst, fluff, banter

╰┈➤ ❝ [It was hard being away from his little girl, but warm mornings spent in each other's company were blessings - even if they were far and few in between. It didn't matter the form.] ❞

✎ DUCKY SOCKS - Fluff

╰┈➤ ❝ [It's your father's birthday, and what better way to celebrate than to go on a hike before giving him the gift he told you not to buy?] ❞

✎ LATE NIGHT COOKIES - Fluff, school stress

╰┈➤ ❝ [Stressed and still awake, you go to grab food from the kitchen before you get right back into your work. Your father talks some sense into you over a nostalgic recipe.] ❞

➺ LIEUTENIANT!PRICE:

✎ CALLUSUS ON HIS GENTLE HANDS - Human Trafficking, blood, trauma

╰┈➤ ❝ [John Price was the one to help you up from the concrete corner you had pushed yourself into when the gunfire had started; his hand holds yours like delicate glass despite the hard calluses. Sticking by him seemed like a good idea.] ❞

✎ CALLUSUS AND MILKY SCARS - 18+, angst, human trafficking

╰┈➤ ❝ [It's been years since you've seen or heard from John and yet you still can't get him out of your head. But can a chance meeting rekindle old emotions?] ❞

➺ SCRATCHES IN THE SURFACE:

✎ PART ONE - Intense gore, heavy angst, torture

╰┈➤ ❝ [Investigating Shepherd was a mistake, but the betrayal of John Price hurt more than anything Shadow Company could do to you.] ❞

✎ PART TWO - Heavy angst, gore, trauma

╰┈➤ ❝ [Finally free from torture and pain, can you ever bring yourself to forgive John for what he caused? Learning to move on and heal is easier said than done.] ❞

#masterlist #john price

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runa-falls · 22 days

Note

*raise hand violently* PLEASE CAN I ASK ABOUT sub!miguel headcanons?!?!?!?!?!

What makes him whine, how pretty does his whimpers sound like?!?!?!

How gorgeous does he look when his eyes get all shiny and wet with tears because you won't let him come yet.

sub!miguel headcanons

basic summary: miguel is the whiniest, most pushy malewife and you are his protector, comforter, and safe space :3

a/n: OK BETTER LATE THAN NEVER RIGHT? (im so sorry lmfaooo) also does it count as headcanons if i have random scenes in between them?? wtvr *shoves fic in ur arms and sprints away*

content: suggestive + fluffy

masterlist

---

bed habits (I'M TALKING AB SLEEPING YOU DIRTY BASTARD!) -- miguel is a sleepy, cuddly boy

he never has trouble falling asleep when you're around (except for when he - adorably - forces himself to stay awake so he can spend time with you)

this man is 6'7" but he still tries to curl up on your lap when you're lounging on the couch just so you can play with his hair as he dozes off

miguel owns a king sized bed, big enough to fit five people comfortably, yet he's adamant to take up all your space

it gets hot (i mean, he's hot -- literally, like his internal temp is higher than the average human) but even when you try to shove him away, he only pulls you closer to him

if you do, somehow, get away from him, he wakes up immediately with a sleepy groan, blindly reaching across the mattress for you:

you try to dodge his hands, laying precariously at the edge of the bed, hoping he would give up and go back to sleep. unfortunately, it only makes him whine like a spoiled child, "baby, closer. need you...come here" god -- he has such a cute sleepy voice...

but you don't let it sway you. you're already laying on top of the comforter, desperately trying to cool off and get back to sleep.

"it's too hot, miguel"

"but...i can't sleep without you" you can hear the pout in his voice

"just hold a pillow and pretend its me"

he sighs -- actually sighs like the dramatic man he is, "but it's not the same!"

you don't respond, refusing to continue this 3 am argument that you'll never win, and pretend to fall back asleep. maybe he will practice self-soothing or something and sleep by himself? maybe he'll be an adult about this?

silence settles in the air for a few minutes and you're nearly lulled back to unconsciousness. and then you hear the sheets rustle as he sits up next to you, suddenly fully awake and stubbornly staring down at you.

"please?"

"mig, no amount of 'pleases' will convince me to sleep against your volcanic body"

"...how about just until I fall asleep?"

"but when I move away you'll wake up again."

you hear a quiet 'hmph' before you're promptly tugged back against his body. his face presses against your hair as he situates himself to engulf you in his warmth. "exactly, so don't leave me."

it's a common misconception that sub!mig likes to be the little spoon but actually he likes to cling onto you like you're a living teddy bear -- face nuzzled against your neck, legs intertwined with yours, and one large hand on your tit

you often wake up in a tangled mess, your neck stiff from the contorted positions he maneuvers your body into during the night

but you don't mind it anymore, especially on those rare morning swhen you wake up before him and you get to see those worry lines on his forehead soften as he sleeps soundly next to you

miguel is a soft and eager man:

it's his life mission to provide for you, to hear soft words of praise whisper from your lips

as soon as you're alone in a room, he drops the tough guy act and immediately searches for your warmth

miguel sticks to you like velcro when he isn't fighting crime in the city

and when he isn't with you, he's absolutely thinking about you

(of course he makes sure that you're thinking about him too with all the texts he sends you throughout the day -- adorned with cheesy emojis...)

this dude is so needy and desperate for your love, praise and approval that he's the one asking "would you still love me if i were a spider-mutant worm and i looked at you like this: 🐛 to say 'i love you'?"

would he call you 'mami'? debatable.

but he loves it when you call him honey, sweetheart, baby, bubby/bubs, hubby (he wants to marry you so bad), and puppy (WHEN HE'S KINKY BC HE'S A HORNY SOB)

you swear he whimpers a little when you tell him what a good man he is -- when you confess that he's your hero, even when he's not swinging around the city and lifting up buildings with his bare hands

his warm brown eyes search your face, a desperate quest for truth in every gentle word you speak. he's never been spoken to so softly in his life -- this tenderness, it's new...too good to be true

as time passes and your love deepens, he begins to realize that it's all true, that everthing about you is genuine, that he is loveable after all

miguel worships you:

he is definitely a worshipper when you let him be

on slower, more sensual nights, he makes sure to paint your body in kisses, from your ankles to your forehead it's almost tortuous

(maybe even bites if it's been a while since he's seen you)

he likes to kneel for you, make himself smaller so he can look up at you and appreciate everything you've provided for him

he's really whiny and pathetic though...

he wants to be told what to do, when to do it, and how. it helps him let go of this thoughts, anything that's weighing on him

it could be his heightened senses or just his desperation, but he needs to touch you all the time -- even just the light feeling of his hand against your thigh gives him a euphoric feeling.

so you deny him because you know how much he loves the delayed gratification and humiliation when you tease him for it.

"baby, you're acting so needy right now~" you decided to withdraw from the heated interaction to keep him at the edge. his eyes are dark, blazing with heat, as you speak to him with a syrupy sweet voice.

he pouts from the spot where he's kneeling for you, already achingly hard from the thorough petting session you just gave him.

"i'm not trying to be...just really need it." he's whining with a mixture of shame, frustration, and exasperation in his voice.

"It?" you tilt your head, a small smile gracing your lips.

"..." he doesn't elaborate. you can see a hint of pinkness creep up his neck as his eyes avoid yours.

he can get so shy sometimes. it's endearing. it makes you want to destroy him then put him back together again.

"honey, i can't give you what you need unless you tell me." you know what he wants, but you want to hear him say it.

"please"

#LATE I KNOW #boyfriend material #miguel o'hara headcannons #sub!miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara headcanons

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carolmunson · 9 months

Text

it's like sugar sometimes.

(older!modern!dad!eddie)

welcome back to the: orange colored sky setlist a/n: this can be read as a stand alone, give or take some references. but as a pre-cursor: you and eddie are about twelve years apart, meeting in late twenties early thirties, his late thirties early forties. you're deeply in love and we're fast forwarding a bit and now you have a kid. shout out to my nephew because without countless videos of him being the same age as the baby in this fic i would not now how babies baby. cw: pure fluff. pure dad eddie goodness. pretty tame. some mild arguing and swearing. some saucy kisses at the end. a new entry for the fall frenzy extravaganza. this fall frenzy is in honor of @jo-harrington who said i could do whatever, so here we are lmao.

songspiration: how sweet it is (to be loved by you) | james taylor

The ride to the orchard is going much better than you were expecting after such a rough morning. Tears from the moment Gwen came into your room just before four in the morning because she had a bad dream. Then it was too hot for her in bed with both of you, then she was too cold, then Ed’s snoring kept you both awake until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. Then there was the kicking and stretching and rolling around. Aren’t they supposed to sleep like logs? She just turned three. Ed woke up refreshed, frowning when he turned over to see you sitting up against the headboard reading with puffy tired eyes. “Hey,” he says softly as to not wake Gwen who was curled up into his side, “She come in last night?” “Another bad dream,” you shrug, looking at him over your book, “I don’t know if she’s really having them or if she’s just starting to have a little regression period. Maybe we can get her a new night light or something.” “Why don’t you try to go back to sleep for a little and I’ll get her ready,” he asks, voice still raspy from sleep, “I’ll just take her into the shower with me.” You smile lazily at him and nod, looking over at the clock on his night stand – a little past six. Maybe an extra forty-five would do you some good before you went to the orchards upstate. Gwen’s eyes open up to her dad awake, her face contorting when she sees him. “Had a bad dweam,” she sniffles, reaching her arms out. “Poor Gwen, you had a bad dream?” Eddie coos, pulling her up out of bed with him, “Tell me all about it, angel.” Her babbles echo down the hall even after Ed closes the door behind them.

Piercing sobs woke you up instead of your alarm, though that went off right after to remind you that there’s a whole day you have to start. You rub your eyes and groan, sliding out of bed and stepping into your slippers. You grab your robe, shrugging it on as you leave the bedroom and wincing while another cry pours out of your toddler and goes straight to your chest. “I know, honey, I know,” you hear Eddie soothe, “But we’re gonna go do something so fun. You wanna go pick a pumpkin, right?” “No pumpki-i-in,” she sobs, deep and guttural. You open the door to her room slowly, a very teary Gwen stands in the corner, hair wet in a new set of pajamas. You look at Eddie, pulling out an outfit for her and laying it on her toddler bed. “What’s goin’ on, in here?” you ask gently. “Gwen doesn’t wanna get dressed to go apple picking,” Eddie says quietly, “She wants to watch Blue’s Clues.” “Wan’ see Bl-blue, mommy,” she sobs, “Pwease.” “Hey, hey,” you try your best to settle her, “Thank you for saying please, honey. We can still see Blue but daddy has to get you dressed first.” “Did she eat?” you ask, pulling Gwen up to your hip while she cries into your shoulder. “Yeah, she had some mini waffles and a banana,” he opens her closet and fishes out a tiny pair of Chuck’s to go with her outfit – a little black sweatshirt screen printed with the Halloween movie poster paired with a set of leggings meant to look like jeans. “Did you eat?” you smile, coming over to him to plant a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, her leftovers,” he laughs, “There’s a cup of coffee waiting for you on the counter.” “Thank you,” you nudge him, feeling Gwen squirm and whine while she tries to shimmy down from your hip, “Okay, okay.” “Gwen, please,” Eddie begs with a twinge of frustration in his voice when she makes it to the door, on her tiptoes to reach the handle, “Let’s just get you dressed and you can watch Blue’s Clues while we do your hair.” She stomps, wet curls bouncing with her when she does, “Wanna watch now, pwease!” “Thank you for asking nicely Gwen, but that doesn’t always mean you get your way,” he explains. She shrieks, loud enough that your eyes squint, stomping again onto the fluffy white carpet below her, “I wanna watch Blue’s Cwue’s!” “Why don’t you take a deep breath for me, huh?” Eddie asks her, he pats your lower back on the way to the door. A silent way of letting you know to just go get yourself ready, he can handle the rest, “Do we need to take a time out?” “No time out,” she starts to cry again when you slip out of the room. More frustrated whines and wails boom down the hall, dissipating while you make it down the metal staircase to the coffee on the counter. Your heart swells when you notice that he already emptied and reloaded the dishwasher.

After you’ve packed some snacks for later and gotten yourself dressed, you make your way back upstairs. You approach the bathroom with your coffee in hand, Gwen’s sippy cup full of water in the other. Her bubbly squeals respond back to whoever is talking to her, barely looking up from Eddie’s phone to look at you when you open the door.

“Who’re you talking to, miss girl?” you ask, putting her sippy cup next to her on the bathroom counter. “Steeb,” she says, eyes glued to the screen, much happier than she was before. “She’s watching 90s Blue’s Clues?” you laugh at your husband who’s busy splitting her Gwen’s hair into a middle part, looking in the mirror that she’s sat in front of. “No, she’s FaceTiming with Steve,” he shakes his head, pulling one section back into a high pigtail. “Hi peach!” Steve’s voice rings from the phone, he lowers it back down to parentese to address Gwen, “Is that mommy? Can you say hi to her for me?” “Steeb say hi,” Gwen says, lifting the phone up, showing the screen to the ceiling of the bathroom. You take the phone for a second, seeing Steve’s annoyed face in the frame.

“You’re on thin ice,” he says, his fiancee’s laugh ringing out of frame, “I can’t believe you’re going this week when we’ll be there in two. You always go before we come to visit.” “There will be plenty of apple picking trips to do together when we move, I promise,” you assure, “She starts gymnastics and swimming next weekend, we won’t have another time to do it.”

“Gymnastics?” he asks, “Does she have tights? Leotards? What can I get her?”

“She has like, I don’t know Steve – forty leotards? She’s gonna grow out of half of them in six weeks,” you explain, “Don’t worry, your husband got it covered.” Eddie snickers, wrapping an elastic around one of the ponytails in his fingers. “Well if she’s gonna grow out of them then she’ll need more,” he scoffs, “I’ll get some sent over.”

“You’re impossible,” your eye roll is something Steve is just as used to as Eddie is. Gwen whines again, reaching for the phone with grabby hands, a quiet ‘Steeby’ escaping her. “I can hear her asking for me, gimme back to my girl,” he sighs. You hand the phone back to Gwen who giggles when Steve makes a funny face at her through the screen. “Look how pretty those ponytails are. Daddy did such a good job,” Steve coos at her. “We payin’ be-yoo-dee sawon,” Gwen explains. Eddie looks up at you, whispering ‘Can you grab her bows for me?’ You nod, reaching into the bottom drawer to snatch a basket full of bows, holding them out to him while he picks.

“Beauty salon,” Eddie corrects softly, “Orange or black bows?” “Bwack,” she says, waving him off like you do when you’re busy, “I’m on da phone, daddy.” “Yeah,” you say, meeting her sass, “She’s on the phone, daddy.”

He lets a ‘pfff’ push out of his lips while he grabs two black bows from last halloween, little sparkly spider webs parked in the center. You leave them to it, heading down to get the car packed up and make sure you have Gwen’s bag set up before you leave.

Despite the dramatics, the ride is going well. Gwen happily eats an apple sauce packet in her carseat while the two of you sip on coffees and eat breakfast sandwiches from a drive thru off the highway. It’s nice to get out of the city for a while and get Gwen used to the idea of not being in it anymore. The drive consists mostly of James Taylor’s greatest hits because Gwen is her Grandpa Wayne’s baby before she’s anyone else’s. She hums along to Carolina and sings only the chorus of Mexico. Her favorite song is Mockingbird even though it’s Carly Simon featuring James Taylor. The two of you throw it on the record player every other day to sing it to her, even if she doesn’t ask for it. It’s selfishly your favorite song, too, just ‘cause you get to see your husband play along with you. “And if that better way ain't so, I'll ride with the tide and go with the flow, And that's why, I keep on shoutin' in your ear, Saying (yeah, yeah) whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-oh.” You lean your head back on the passenger’s side to make eye contact with Gwen through the visor mirror who giggles back at you. She mimics your ‘whoa-whoa-whoa’, shimmying in her carseat with her shoulders. Gwen’s no stranger to shimmying, always finding some way to dance off beat to Ed’s music when he plays at a venue she can be at or practices at home. His number one fan.

“Oh-wange twees, mommy,” Gwen says, tiny finger pointing out the window at the foliage lining the road. “I see them, aren’t they pretty Gwen?” you nod back at her. Eddie’s head turns slightly to watch her watch the trees, eyes shining at each change of color hits her. His heart beats a little quicker knowing she’s able to make those distinctions between orange, red, and yellow – too smart, getting too big. “Daddy’s git-tah,” she yelps, pointing hard at a tree covered in dark red leaves while Eddie slowly turns down the entrance of the orchard. Gwen lets out a tiny ‘woah’ when the car jostles that makes him laugh, he wishes she’d stay this little forever. “Yeah, that’s the same color as daddy’s guitar, good job sweetheart,” he smiles back at her, “Are you ready to pick some apples so we can make Uncle Stevie a pie for when he visits?” “Ya!” She nods, happy and excited. She doesn’t know what he said, but whenever he talks to her with a smile she’ll do whatever he asks and vice versa. Still ‘sort of rockstar’, definitely ‘meant to be father’. Parking is less of a nightmare than expected since it’s early in the day – most families come after the first morning nap, at least that’s what the mom groups told you on Facebook. Gwen hardly naps anymore, but you won’t be surprised if she knocks out earlier than usual tonight. Eddie gets the backpack full of Gwen’s essentials and you grab the baby. “I have to carry you through the parking lot, babe,” you say when she starts to bounce in your arms, eager to run on the grass in her sneakers. “Wanna walk, please,” she begs, her hands on your cheeks while you make your way towards the entrance. “You can walk when we get inside but there’s lots of cars out here and no stop lights,” you say, batting her hand out of your hair when she reaches for it, “I’ll put you down in a little bit.” “You think we should take the stroller?” Ed asks from the trunk. “They have wagons, we can just pull her around,” you shrug, “I don’t think the back up stroller is good for this kind of place, we’d need the one at home.” Eddie shrugs, joining you on your walk to the entrance to get your empty bag and your wagon, putting Gwen at the back as you get to the trees. “Walk, please,” she begs again. You hesitate, it’s just too big of a place and she’s a runner, “Honey, I would love it if you–” “Let her walk,” Eddie says, “She’ll get bored after a few minutes and wanna watch anyway, just let her walk.” “Come here Gwen, hold my hand,” he says, offering a tattooed hand to her pudgy one. She clumsily crawls out of the wagon, bouncing over to her dad to put her hand in his. He pulls her up once, making her squeal and giggle as she floats next to him. “More, more!” she laughs, letting Eddie swing her ahead a few more times while you all make your way through the trees.

She likes apple picking more than you expected, arms up constantly to be lifted onto the branches to grab some off of every few trees. Gwen had a good eye, better than you and Eddie, for super crisp ones – pointing up and jumping to get at them. If she was a little bigger you wouldn’t be surprised if she climbed up the trees with the ease of a jungle cat. Your husband encouraged it, climbing up the branches like he was still twenty – sitting with his legs dangling off and having you pass your toddler to him. “Please be careful,” you warn, passing her up to him. “Babe, I know what I’m doing,” he scowls, a hint annoyed before changing his expression for Gwen when he helps her onto the low branch with him. “You don’t have to be a jerk, I just want her to be safe,” you snap back. “And I’m keeping her safe,” he says with a smile as to keep your daughter none-the-wiser. Still looking at Gwen while she reaches for another apple. She hands it to Eddie who hands it to you, your fingers brush. “Sorry,” he says, looking down at you, “I’ll be careful. We’re not very high, but you’re right. I’ll be careful.” “Thank you,” you nod, taking the apple and pressing a ghost of a kiss to his knuckles. He blushes red, red, red. Red like the leaves, red like his guitar. “Why s’pink, daddy?” Gwen asks, passing him another apple. “I just love mommy very much, honey,” he smiles, pressing a kiss into her hair, “She makes me turn pink like a heart.” “Like on da phone,” she says, clinging to him like a koala when he slides down off the low branch with her. “Yes, like on the phone,” he nods. You’re not Peach 🍑 in his phone anymore. You’re The Wife 💗. Right now he’s Gwen’s Dad in your phone because you got in an argument two months ago and haven’t changed it back to Rockstar Husband 🎸❣️because ‘Gwen’s Dad’ makes you laugh too much. He hates it. “How you like them apples, G?” you ask when Eddie puts her down in the wagon, she looks up at you confused and shrugs; brown curly pigtails bouncing at she does. “Kids today,” you shake your head at Eddie while you press onward, “No culture.”

“No culture,” he agrees enthusiastically.

You peruse, the bags you bought are filled to the brim with apples. Some red, some green, a few yellow so Gwen can try them and see if she likes them. It’s a calming walk, the chatter of other families, the squeaky roll of the wagon, the rustle of the trees when the early autumn wind catches them. Eddie holds your hand loosely, always needing to keep touching you in some way, always wanting to keep you close to him. You look back, Gwen going between looking around at the other families and playing with her V-Tech phone. Eddie goes from walking slow to speeding up to make the wagon jostle just to hear Gwen’s giggles peal through the trees. After about an hour of walking and picking, you’re about as pooped as your toddler should be. Once you get to the tree line you see the farm and market down at the base of the hill, a little relieved that you’ve all made it to the end of the road unscathed.

That is, until Gwen climbs out of the wagon when it comes to a stop and without warning, books it towards the edge.

“Gwendolyn Rose!” Eddie’s call is rough and loud out of fear, but it sounds like anger. Gwen stops short, startled, falling backwards onto the seat of her leggings. Like clockwork the first whine starts, building up into a needy, sad wail. You know they’re crocodile tears so you keep your pace with the wagon behind you. Your husband however, despite the constant reminder that she knows he’s easy, rushes forward without a second thought. “Oh no, my baby girl, shh, shh. I’m sorry,” he coos, reaching down to hoist her up onto his hip, “I didn’t mean to yell, sugar. You just got daddy scared is all. I’m not mad.” Gwen wipes her face, pushing away tears that never fell, sniffling and hiding her face in his neck. He rubs her back while she settles, guilt tugging on the lines between his brows.

“No baby girl,” Gwen pouts, “I’m big girl.”

“Oh that’s right, you’re my big girl,” Eddie grins, kissing her cheek. She’s not amused, frowning down at him while she pushes up against his shoulder to squirm out of his hold. ��That’s a very grumpy face, Gwenny,” you giggle. “Hey, are you mad at me?” he asks up at her before popping her back down onto her feet at the edge of the tree line, “Why’re you lookin’ so mad?”

“I’m big,” she announces, little foot stomping on the grass below her. Eddie lets a sigh out through his nose and kneels down to her level. She takes several deep breaths and you both know it’s the beginning of what could be a very long second tantrum of the day. “I know, you’re a very big girl,” he nods, “But what do mommy and daddy say you have to do when we don’t have you in the stroller?” “Hode hands,” she repeats back in a whine. “That’s right, we hold hands – and if we’re not holding your hand you’re supposed to stay close, right?” He watches her nod, tucking a finger under her chin to make sure she’s absorbing what he’s saying. Her lower lip juts out, cheeks puffing while her shoulders sulk. “I walk by - by mysewf,” she urges, sniffling, “Pwease.” “Not today, sugar. I’m sorry,” he sighs, cupping her cheek in his palm, “I have a fun idea, do you wanna get on daddy’s shoulders and you can tell us how far we are from the farm?” She brightens up a little, giggling when he reaches down to tickle her sides before scooping her up to lift over his shoulders. He groans the way old men groan when they lift something and you stifle a laugh, smiling up at Gwen when she smiles down at you. “Hi mommy,” she beams, waving her tiny hand. “Hi baby,” wave back lazily, the shoddy sleep you had last night starting to settle into your eyes. “Do you see the farm, Gwenny?” Eddie asks, she nods enthusiastically, “Maybe we can go get you a donut, how does that sound? Will that make you happy?”

“Ed,” you click your tongue, “She’s never gonna get to sleep later.” “We’re making memories, babe,” Eddie says, reaching up to hold Gwen’s hands to keep her steady, “Some extra sugar won’t hurt her.”

“Yeah, you love extra sugar, don’t you?” you laugh.

“Matter of fact, I do,” he smirks, shooting you a wink. He laughs when he sees two of those twelve foot Home Depot skeletons posed outside the front of the market, promoting their haunted hayride with signs and other silly decor, “Shit, that’s fuckin’ metal – s’ridiculous.”

“S’dic-yoo-liss,” Gwen repeats. “S’ridiculous, Gwennifer!” Eddie repeats back in concurrence. “Sss’tick-you-luss,” she bounces, laughing when he laughs. They have the same one, though his has years on hers, gruff with age, with cigarette stains.

Pumpkins get picked, warm donuts devoured, the morning finally feels like it’s coming to a close. You park Gwen down at a picnic table while Eddie goes to get the goods, hanging out with your threenager who can barely keep her eyes open. You’re thankful you still have the wagon because there was no way you’d be able to carry all of it back to the car. Caramel apples, cider donuts, three gallons of apple cider, honey sticks, pumpkin pie, and anything else Eddie thought was good enough to bring home for the season weight heavy in the brown paper bags in his arms. He comes back sheepishly, biting his lower lip when you look at the bags and then at him.

“Hm,” you hum pointedly.

“I just really like fall flavors, peach,” he shrugs, “And the old lady at the front was so sweet telling me about the deals I couldn’t not get everything.” “You’re such a sucker,” you laugh with a roll of your eyes, “You ready to head out?” He nods, ticking his forehead at Gwen whose cheek is smushed against your chest, eyelashes brushing the tops of her cheeks, “Looks like this pumpkin’s ready to go.”

“She’s out,” you say softly, brushing her hair away from her face, “Lasted five minutes on my lap.”

“Let me get a picture to send to Steve,” he says low enough that it doesn’t wake her, “The background is perfect.” “Ed you have a thousand pictures of her from today,” you complain. “Shh, shh, come on,” he smiles, taking out his phone – you know he’s only snapping Gwen by the way he lowers the camera to your lap. He puts the bags in the wagon while you slowly stand with her wrapped around your front. You wait at the entrance for him to pull the car around, leaving the wagon behind. She doesn’t wake up when you pop her back in the car seat, slowly rolling out of the parking lot with the rest of the afternoon in your wake.

“I got her a little gourd painting kit, somewhere in those bags,” he says, “She can make some decorations.” “Oh she’ll love that,” you nod, peeking at her sleeping face in the visor mirror again, “I’ll do it with her before dinner.”

He pulls in slowly at a stop sign, hand reaching out to snake into yours, pulling it to his lips to bless you with soft kisses on the back of your hand.

“Thanks for such a good day, baby,” he murmurs.

“You’re very welcome.”

Later on, just before dinner, Eddie hears a tiny knock on his office door paired with two giggles from his favorite girls.

“Yes?” he calls out. The door creeps open and he hears you whisper, ‘Ask ‘Are you busy, daddy?’

“You busy, daddy?” Gwen pipes up. He shuts his computer, moving away from the two additional screens. “No, honey, never too busy for you,” he smiles, creases by his eyes showing up through his glasses, “Do you have something to show me?”

“Yeah,” she nods, pulling on your hand to pull you into the room. He uses the same candles he always has, deep spice, like his cologne. Warm like the way he holds you. Still in his hunter green Dickie’s overalls from this morning.

You give Gwen her little pumpkin that she painted to present to her dad, beaming with excitement while he looks it over.

“Such a good job, Gwenny,” he coos, “Are these –”

“I did bats,” she grins, finger touching the sparkly black sort of bats adorning the outside. Covered in glitter and sequins, falling onto his office floor.

“You did bats? For Halloween?” he asks. You shake your head no, smiling big when Gwen goes on to explain.

“No cause, daddy, cause you have bats,” she hurriedly explains, “Issa daddy pum-kin.” She reaches to his left arm, pointing at the bat tattoos on the inside when he was a kid. She runs her finger over them, “See, bats like daddy.”

“That’s so sweet, honey,” he coos, “Is it for me?” “Yeah,” she squeaks, “For here.” “For your office,” you say for her, trying not to giggle when his eyes shine with tears. She could give him a piece of trash and he’d cry over it, “‘Cause you have so many Halloween decorations in here.” He laughs, looking around at all the tour posters he has from bands he’s seen over the years – to a three year old they probably are a little scary. “And what did you say it was when you were done, Gwen?” you ask, “What did you say daddy would think the pumpkin was?” “Fucking med-oh,” she giggles. “Oh my god,” he sighs, thumb and forefinger immediately going to temples. “Fucking metal,” you repeat back him, knowingly, “Wonder where she got that.”

He tries not to laugh when he looks down at Gwen, “Don’t say that word, baby, that’s a bad word.” “Sowwy,” she whispers. “It’s okay, you didn’t know,” he grins, pulling her in to kiss her all over. She shrieks the way babies shriek when they’re excited and runs out of the office toward her bedroom at the end of the hall. You turn to go after her before feeling Eddie’s hand on your shoulder. “Hey,” he says quietly in your ear, you shiver, “Remember when you said I like a little extra sugar?”

Your cheeks burn hot, turning to him, “I do.” He leans in slow, lips capturing yours in a way that they only do when you both get to be alone, “Don’t forget to keep givin’ me some.” “I won’t,” you murmur back, letting him kiss you deeply one more time before pressing a slow kiss to your favorite place under the hinge of your jaw, “You’re bold, Munson.” He shrugs, breaking away, “Needed somethin’ sweet.”

As if he isn't sweet enough. Eddie spends the rest of the night looking up ways to preserve a painted gourd.

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #dad!eddie #dad!eddie munson #older!eddie #older!eddie munson #modern!eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader fluff

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starry-bi-sky · 10 months

Text

part five of "clone danny"

Danny returns home later that night with a dislocated shoulder from Skulker and his fair share of scrapes and bruises after facing off with a handful of ectoplasmic animal shades. (All of them stuffed inside his thermos with Skulker that he'll toss in the Zone tomorrow after school.)

He shoves his mask back into his pocket, and hides his bat in the bushes at the side of his house under his window, then rounds back around the front to go through the door.

...Mainly because if Bruce Wayne was still awake, it'd be suspicious if Danny made it home without ever using the front door. He sneaks back in, and slooowly starts closing the door.

"You're back late." Says a surly, young voice that startles Danny into slamming the door instead.

"Fucking--!" He cuts himself and breathes in slowly, trying to slow his elevated heart rate before looking over his shoulder to see who the hell scared him.

Glaring at him like an upset parent would, with eyes cutting like sea glass, is Wayne the Sequel... or perhaps he was the seventh sequel. Danny is silent for a moment. "...You're up early." He says, maybe a bit petulant. "Does your dad know you're up this late?"

"Father permitted me to stay up and wait for your return, actually." Damian sniffs, and if anyone could make 'scowling' into a vocal tone, Danny would have thought it'd be Sam. But Damian beat her to it.

Danny turns around slowly to face him, arms crossing. "Yeah, uh-huh." He nods slowly, "Like I'm gonna believe that. Do you normally sit in a random stranger's kitchen and interrogate them when they get home?" He tilts his head for good measure.

"No." Damian says. (He is, in fact, lying.) His eyes narrow at Danny as if he had committed a terrible crime by being in his presence. He looks down to Danny's hands. "Father said you left with a bat. Where is it?"

"I lost it." Danny replies, biting the inside of his lip to prevent himself from smiling.

"You... lost it?"

"Yup." He says blandly. "Whoops."

-------

Danny goes up to his room immediately after that and collapses on his mattress to pass out for the next three hours until his alarm goes off.

Much to Danny's luck, Bruce and his son are literally only there for a few days, and he spends as much time during it to avoid them like a plague (while also dealing with his dislocated shoulder, which should reliably heal in half the time thanks to his ectocontamination). Damian does whatever during the day since he doesn't go to Casper High.

Something to note as we get out of the 'fic'-y part of this post -- Daniel J. Fenton was, largely, the sexual awakening to many people in his grade in Casper High School, including many A-Listers. However he is still "Daniel Fenton" so many of his classmates will take that fact to their grave. And to their personal friend groups.

Does this have any impact going forward? Not really so far, no.

Dodging a Wayne-sized bullet doesn't mean that Danny can dodge the Wes-sized bullet, and finds himself nearly nose-to-nose with an irate Wes Weston who demands to know where he was last nice.

Of which Danny, not needing to drop his smartass comments in front of the guy who already knows his ID, responds by calling him a jealous ex and sidestepping him completely. following up with if Wes isn't careful, then Danny might just think that Wes has a crush on him

(Wes does, in fact, have a crush on Daniel J. Fenton. He will take this secret to his grave.)

Ellie shows up in his kitchen, sitting on the table with her legs crossed while chatting amiably with Bruce Wayne a few days later when Danny returns from school. When Danny asks how she got inside (the door is typically locked), Ellie smiles toothily and fangily, and happily tells him that she came in through the window. And that he needs to tell his parents to invest in locks. She has long hair the same length as him. It's like looking into a mirror, one he is welcome to see into.

It is endearingly Ellie-like to know that she all but broke into his house, and seeing his sister-clone-twin relieves some of his tension. Only a little though when Bruce Wayne was still in his house.

Normally he sits and talks for hours with Ellie. But instead he takes it to the stairs, telling Ellie that he'll be in his room when she's done talking to Mister Wayne. He is a stubborn ass who doesn't even bother to ask where Wayne the Sevquel is.

(He runs into Wayne a one or two more times the following nights. Wayne asks him where his bat is on the second night, his son says he lost it. Danny agrees with him, and Wayne asks with a touch of concern what he'll do if he comes across a ghost.)

(Danny shrugs and says he hasn't before. And comes back home with a bruise the size of a large cat on his hip and a couple more along his torso and legs. his knees hurt from rough jumps with poor landings. Damian is waiting when he gets home. They exchange a few barbs and Danny hightails it up to his room.)

(Danny's face is obscured by the lack of lights and the shadows in the corner. Its the only reason he feels even a modicum of comfort in exchanging a few words with Wayne.)

(Ellie is waiting outside for him the day she meets Wayne, and asks him if Wayne knows. Danny says he wouldn't be avoiding him if he did. Wayne probably wouldn't be as nice as he was now if he knew.)

("You don't know he won't be nice after finding out." Ellie points out while he's digging his bat out from the neighbor's bushes this time.)

("He's not me, Ell." He says, frowning. "We don't know that.")

(Ellie sighs sadly, and Danny feels a tinge of guilt. "You can tell him if you want," he offers, "you don't have to hold back on my behalf.")

("I want to tell him with you, though. C'mon, we're twins.")

(That night Danny avoids breaking his other arm after a run in with a large ecto-serpent. Ellie nearly rips out its tongue for it. She's more ghost-like than he is. Possessive and violent and very, very passionate. As if he wouldn't do the same if pressed.)

(Ellie gives Danny a piggyback ride home, the wind filtering through the grills of his mask and force-feeding him the taste of freedom. Damian is there while they sneak back in, stifling their laughter under the meat of their palms.)

(Danny may or may not have reached out and ruffled his hair in his joviality when he passed him by. Grinning painfully when Damian bats at his hand like a disgruntled kitten. His hair feels like feathers and the sensation sinks itself deep into Danny's star-in-the-sky sized core-obsession like a suggestion.)

(He might regret it in the morning. It will fade in time after the Waynes leave.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

Taglist: @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton is a clone #danny phantom au #dpxdc #dp crossover #no funny tags rn folx #masterpost when #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny fenton #ellie having the scary dog privileges is top tier choice on my part personally

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mysicklove · 11 months

Text

𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇

Pairing: Sub! Vamp! Tanjiro x Dom! AFAB! Human! Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: NSFW MDNI, Pegging, heavy mommy/mama kink, LOTS OF BLOOD, blood drunk?, biting, riding, hand job, petting

A/N: Happy Birthday @vampcubus!!! I wrote this specifically for you bc I know you love ur vampires <3. Also, want to thank your amazing gf @renhoeku for encouraging me to make u this fic for ur birthday! You two are adorable. (also halfway into writing this I realized u may like vamp! reader more....but too late lol)

To be honest, dating a vampire was easier than one could imagine. Sure, he may be ten times stronger than you, and could kill you in a millisecond, but this was Tanjiro we are talking about, he tears up when he accidentally kills a fly. He was by far the gentlest person you have ever met, and it made it incredibly easy to fall for him.

Before he met you and early on in your relationship, he used to starve himself. Feeding once a week from stolen blood donation bags. It always made him feel horrible, but it was better than feeding off of an innocent. But still, with every gulp of the old room-temperature blood, he wondered what it would be like to drink straight from the source. The thought always made him shiver in delight, and he would have to force his thoughts away from it or else something could go seriously wrong.

But the thoughts seem to never leave his mind when he met you. He disguised himself for about three months into your relationship with much struggle. The scent of your blood drove him mad with need and the trips to the hospital grew more frequent. It was so unbelievably hard to take back the blood bags with you around. His fangs would protract whenever he got too excited, or when a drop of your blood spills.

He wanted it so desperately, and as he began to fall in love with you the need seemed to grow more and more. The staring of your neck would increase, and sometimes he caught himself salivating while running his fingers on the skin above your veins. He just wanted a drop of your blood, that’s all he needs and he won’t complain anymore. Just one drop.

It wasn't very hard to find out about his little secret. Day one, you met him you knew he was hiding something big, but couldn't put your finger on it. Slowly you've been studying him. The way he reacts to sunlight, not afraid necessarily, but obviously wary of it. He also is supposedly horrified of blood, but that doesn't explain why his face turns red, and you swear he had eyed you so strangely when you got a paper cut. And if he was so afraid of blood, why was he at blood drives so often?

You had your suspicions of him being a vampire, but he confirmed it without the use of words.

You found out his secret when you woke in the middle of the night to find him grinding on your leg, while his fangs lightly grazed the skin on your neck. He was obviously still half asleep, his eyes cloudy and half lidded. He was whining into your skin, and it was obvious that he wanted to latch down on your neck, but he was holding back.

When he saw that you caught him, he snaps awake and he seems to throw himself backward and away from you. His eyes widen with fear and he covers his mouth in an instant. He stares, panicked, in silence.

You blink at him in the dark. This confirmed it. “I-I knew I was right. You're a vampire. You have to be.”

He lets out a startled noise when you flick on your bedside light. His hands haven't moved from his mouth, but his eyes seem to dart around trying to think of an explanation on his strangely sharp teeth.

But the poor boy does not know how to lie. “Whatttt? No. Vampires? Th-Those aren't real!” The words are tight, and his body is stiff.

You raise your eyebrows. “Let me see your mouth.”

His eyes widen, and he scoots backward on the bed. “Just give me a second!”

“Now, Tanjiro.” You shoot him a glare, and he flinches. You sigh feeling slightly guilty from your tone. You were just a little shaken that your theory was possibly true. “I won’t be mad, upset, or scared. Just trust me. I just want to see them.”

He gulps and stares for a long second, clenching his fists on the sheets. He's nervous, it’s obvious. “Do you promise that you won't be scared?”

You smile at him, your eyes softening at his words. “It won't change anything, my love.”

He nods and slowly brings his hands down. A small gasp leaves your lips before you can stop it, and he slightly frowns. Hanging out of his mouth, and gently gnawing into his lower lip were needle sharp fangs.

He was pouting at you, afraid of your reaction, and continues to accidentally peirce his lip out of nerves. Small amounts of his own blood were coating his lip. In all honesty, he looked adorable.

But he was unintentionally hurting himself. You rush over to him and his eyes widen, but before he could protest, you lightly pull on his bottom lip. “Let it go. You are hurting yourself.”

He blinks at you, confused, but obeys and relaxes his jaw. His fangs now hang slightly in front of the pink flesh. “It's okay. I will heal.”

You nod at him, knowing this from your previous studies. “You really are one. A vampire.”

He looks away. “Yes I am. I'm sorry for lying to you.”

“Its alright. But Tanjiro,” You coax, and he glances at you, the slight pout still there. “The fangs are so cute.”

His eyes widen, and his face heats up. You watch the way he tries to hold back a smile from the praise. “Don't joke about that! They are deadly. I almost killed you!”

You smirk at him, leaning in closer to invade his personal space. He reacts immediately, not daring to make eye contact with you. “You wouldn't hurt a fly. You just want some blood right? You are hungry?” You pull your shirt down to expose more of your neck.

His eyes noticeably light up, and he gulps. He continues to stare at the spot on your neck, and his mouth slightly hangs open. His undergarments also seem to tighten at the prospect. The thought turned him on to an embarrassing amount.

When you catch the tent in his pants you giggle, and he immediately snaps out of the trance. He looks away with a red face and grips at the sheets. “No. I can't do that to you. I can't hurt you. I can wait till tomorrow to eat.”

It’s your turn to pout, throwing out the big guns. “Please? For mommy? I want you to be comfortable baby.”

He melts at the title and looks back at the strap on the nightstand. The two of you were only going at it three hours ago, it’s probably why he was so hungry. He lost so much energy from the multiple rounds.

“B-But…”

You scoot forward and rub your hand on his thigh. He shivers and grabs onto your hand for comfort. “Shhh, it will be fine. Should I get the strap? Maybe that will ease your worries.”

He wordlessly grabs the toy, and harness from the table and hands it to you. You pet his head with a smile and begin to attach it.

He removes his clothes and lays back on the pillows next to you, waiting for you to get ready. “I don't know if I will feed. I'm nervous I might hurt you.”

The idea sounds so perfect to him, but he is smart enough to not risk something like this.

You nod and position yourself above him, moving your hips to find his. He was already prepped considering earlier events.

You kiss his cheek and his ears turn red. “It's okay baby. You do what you want, yeah? Just going to make you feel good.”

The boy nods and covers his eyes with the back of his hands. “Mmkay…Mommy.”

You line up the tip, and slowly begin to press it in. He keens and grips onto you, slightly turning away so he isnt face to face with your neck. He really couldn't handle not sinking his teeth in if he was right next to it.

When you bottom out he lets out a breathless moan, and slightly arches his back. You pause to wait for him to get adjusted, and litter his red face with kisses. “Such a good boy. Taking it all, hmm?

He is visibly affected by the praise, nodding his head helplessly and pushing his hips back to try to signal you to move. You smile at this and begin your thrusting.

Today he seemed to slip into the subspace quicker than usual. You didn't mind, but it slightly confused you. Was it because the two of you already had previously fucked, or was it because he was hungry?

You secretly hoped it was the latter. The thought of how he would look with some blood in his system made u shiver in delight.

Not even ten minutes in, he begins his withering and clinging. “Doing so good for me. Does it feel good, baby?” You coo, while his fingers begin to leave scratch marks down your back.

“Mhm…Feels good, m-mommy. Harder please!” You chuckle at the plea and do as he says. His eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open, his fangs now completely exposed. He didn't seem to give a damn about retracting them. It must be a relief, he can completely get immersed in the experience without having to think about exposing himself to you. It further egged you on.

You lean your head forward and onto the pillow next to him. It was a tease, your neck exposed right in front of him, and both of you knew it. He has been trying to stay away from your neck, but you know he wants it desperately. The way he is literally salivating at the sight gives you more reason to spurr him on. He was too selfless. “N-No, cant!”

You pet his hair, “C’mon, I don’t mind. I know you want to, Tan.”

He moans at the words, his hands desperately pulling you closer. “But–I don’t wanna hurt you!” He cries, and you lick a stripe up his own neck to try to distract him from the ridiculous thought.

Drool is pooling at the corners of his lips, and his tongue roams over his fangs. He’s staring at your neck, eyes hazy with need.

“I know you won’t. Don’t feel bad, want you to eat. Please, for me?” He goes eerily quiet for the first time tonight, and you thought you took it too far. But a couple of seconds later, he whimpers with a small nod and shakily brings his lips up to your neck. He kisses and licks it at first, his mind going woozy at the smell of your blood. He looks at you one last time, and when you nod at him, he buries his teeth into your neck.

You cringe and bite back a whine, and Tanjiro moans into your neck. The sound was muffled but loud, almost desperate sounding. He flips the two of you over in a heartbeat with inhumane strength, now grinding on the strap while ravaging your neck. The sounds he lets are strange, almost animalistic sounding. A mix of whines groans, and whimpers vibrate on your skin.

“H-Hey, let’s get into a better position, sweetheart,” You say, the slight euphoria making your head dizzy. When he doesn’t move, you grip his hair and try to pull him back. He doesn’t budge, but he whines out at the interruption.

“N-No! Please, ‘s good, so good, please please please, mommy!” He begs into your neck, lapping at the dripping blood like a starved dog. It was endearing to see him like this. He was usually pretty composed, you have never seen him look so desperate. It was like he was waiting for this moment.

“Shh, I know. You can have more, let’s just get comfortable,” You reason and he nods into your neck, before hesitantly pulling away. His face is covered in blood, and his eyes are cloudy and unfocused. He licks at his lips and over his fangs, and to distract himself from latching back on to you, he focuses down on the strap, gripping at your hips and riding it more desperately than you’ve seen before.

You are quick to move but he is louder, already whining for your neck again. You swiftly put pillows behind you, and position yourself against the headboard, in a seated position with him on your lap. You grab at his hips and use the other to guide his head back to your neck. “There we go. All better now. Not too much, okay pretty?”

“Mhmkay,” He mumbles, still hazy-eyed and whiny. He latches onto the same spot again, and your eyes screw shut. You instead focus on his hips, helping him grind on the strap. His feet plant on the bed, and he uses them to help give him leverage to begin his own rapid movement on the toy.

You gently rub at his hair, petting him while he makes an abundance of adorable noises from both the force of the strap and the taste of you. “Wanted this so badly. Taste so good. Love it s-so much,” The vampire mumbles into your neck, kissing and suckling the skin around the source.

You smile, even if your vision slightly begins to blur from the loss of blood. Instead, you begin to focus on the way his thighs begin to tremble as he starts to bounce up on the toy. You grin, and he wraps his hands around your shoulders and neck, helping his movements become more intense. The toy seems to disappear within him at every bounce.

He's gotten to be a pro at riding. You remember how in the beginning he used to be so embarrassed, clinging onto you and waiting for you to thrust upward and into him. But now, he seems to be in his own world, lost in his pleasure completely to be embarrassed. The strange drunkenness from the blood certainly is helping him move quicker.

He begins to chant, “More. More. More.” into your neck with each passing second. Almost as if he was afraid that the supply would stop soon. You feel the heat of his breath on your neck, and you shiver.

After a couple more minutes, he willingly pulls away for the first time tonight. He stares at you, tongue hanging out to lick at the blood coated skin beneath him. His eyes are hazy, and seem to have little thoughts behind them. “May I cum mommy?”

You grab onto his untouched cock, and gently move your hands up and down the shaft. His head falls forward and onto your shoulder, where he tilts his head to stare at the bite marks. “So polite Tanjiro. Such a good boy for mommy, of course you can.”

His face heats up at the praise, and he shivers, but his eyes are locked on the fang marks on your neck. He wants more, but he can tell you are growing weak. It made him feel guilty how starved he seemed to be.

It wasn't his fault that your blood was better than anything he has had before. He has been dreaming about this moment for weeks now, and now that it was finally here in front of him, it was so hard to hold back.

You were making him feel so good, you didn't deserve to be overworked. But oh so desperately does he want to cum with his fangs in his neck. It would be so much better, so much more intense, he just knows it.

His eyes haven't left the spot on your neck, and it's gotten so bad that he has begun to drool again. The saliva of course is tainted with blood, so it slides quickly down his chin and onto his lap, staining his thighs red.

You can feel his gaze on your neck, and the way he slightly twitches. His movements don't seem to slow, but it’s obvious that he is having a hard time trying to fight his impulses. “You want more baby?”

His eyes screw shut and he shakes his head frantically, his bottom lip back in his mouth. “It’s okay! C-Can cum with–ahh–Out it!”

You grip at his hips, slightly smiling. “I know love, but you want to, right?”

Tears are now mixing with the drool and his head is spinning. He grips on to your hand like a lifeline, and continues to shake his head. “No. No. I don't–stop encouraging it mommy!”

He's looking out for you, but at the moment you don’t care. You want him to feel the best that he can so that he is more comfortable with feeding later. So, you ignore his request, and just like before you tug his hair forward.

His stained, wet lips come into contact with your neck and he moans at the scent. Your hands continue faster on his cock and he shivers. The drooling is getting worse, and he's beginning to make strange whimpering sounds as he tries to hold back. “Drink Tanjiro. I'm fine, really.”

He can't help it anymore. The voice of the rational side of himself is getting quieter and quieter every second he smells the blood. And now with your words? He bites into the flesh again and groans at the feeling of the warm liquid that seeps into his mouth.

He's licking and sucking at the flesh desperately, and honestly, it was strange to see your usual boyfriend so…feral. But of course, it was still him. His words proved through and through that he wasn’t really gone. “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. I'm cumming. I'm sorry mommy!”

You slightly frown at the apologies, but instead focus on his orgasm, thrusting slightly upward, causing his eyes to roll back and tears to continue cascading down his face. His body tightens and he grips your neck possessively. A broken cry is released, and you feel his fangs drag upon your skin, only to let out a silent scream. The white liquid coats the both of your stomachs, and you play with his hair to help coax him through the high.

When he begins to relax, he isn't desperately pawing at your neck, but instead gently licking it to get the remaining drops, and hopefully helping you heal. When he pulls away to rest on your lap, your vision slightly blurs. “How are you feeling Tan?”

He grabs at your palm and nuzzles his face in it, the bottom half of his face stained red, but you’ve never seen him look so content. He seems to melt into your touch, glowing because he was now fed and had his orgasm. “Sooo good. Thank you so much. It tasted–” His half-lidded, lost eyes, fly open and he drops your hand. “Wait. How are you doing? Oh no, I drank too much. We need to get you some food!”

You lean forward to kiss him on his cheek and he touches it with a slight blush. “I'm fine. Just dizzy, and tired. I’m sorry love, I don’t think I can clean you up.”

He shakes his head, and scrambles off your lap, shivering when he feels the strap slide out. When he stands up to grab a wet rag you take notice of his shaking legs. It made you feel slightly bad, he was probably exhausted, but you couldn’t do much. You were equally if not more exhausted than he was.

When he catches your gaze, he smiles knowingly and leans down, and presses a kiss to your lips. “It’s fine mama, I’m okay. Go rest. I will take care of everything.”

But your eyes shut before he could finish his statement.

The next morning, you awake to find yourself dressed in your usual sleep attire, a bandage on your neck, and Tanjiro nowhere to be found. You frown at this, knowing he was probably still sore and tired.

But as on cue, he walks in with a plate of food. Meats, beans, and spinach. You raise your eyebrows at him. “They are rich with iron. Eating this will help you feel better from the loss of blood.”

The pounding of your head was gone, and you weren't dizzy at all. He was overreacting, worried over nothing, but that was who he is. But denying him would only make him worry more, so you take the plate and begin eating.

He sits next to you, kneeling while watching you eat. He looks determined to make sure you finish it. It was cute, really. “I'm sorry for last night. I went too far.”

You glance back at him. “It's okay. No, you didn't. Other than a small headache, I was completely fine.”

He lowers his eyes, and you see his cheeks begin to turn pink. “N-Next time I won’t–”

“Next time?”

He clutches at the sheets and peers over to you, his whole face now red. “Oh. We don't have to–It’s just it felt—It’s okay. Yeah, you're right–”

You throw a bean at him, and his nose scrunches. You laugh at him. “I'm teasing you. I don't mind having you feed off me. In a sexual or nonsexual way.”

His eyes seem to light up at the statement and he nods his head frantically, unconsciously leaning closer to you. “I would love that! I promise to be more composed next time and I definitely won’t drink as much!”

You fake pout at him. “Awh, but I thought your bloody and drool-covered face was quite cute.”

His face heats up, and he grabs onto your hand with a small whine of embarrassment.

You see the tips of his fangs peek out of his lip, obviously too distracted by your teasing words to retract them. It made you grin, and wonder how you managed to find someone like him.

Because who knew a vampire could be this cute?

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readychilledwine · 4 months

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Predator Prey

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

If you are into scratching, biting, grunting, and growling, you may have a Primal Play kink.

Primal play, also known as Predator/prey, is a dynamic between a sub and dom that typically involves the dom hunting down the sub before intercourse. A lot of people mix this with pet/animal play, but they are different. Pet/animal play involves at least one party dehumanizing themselves and taking the role of an animal. Primal play does not involve that.

Primal play finds its roots before we began civilized, and before sex began being seen as a sin as pushed by religion and church. Primal play is a way to revert back to that animalistic instinct of survival by letting us play with our basic needs, aka: breeding, food, and self-protection.

Predator prey is known for being a rougher form of play as well, the sex is a little more demanding, its rough, and it typically can cause the dom to leave a little more satisfied than the sub, especially when following traditional instinct and roles (sorry ladies.) It is an important for this play type to really focus on prediscussed consent and safe word communication.

Primal play also typically involves a struggle between the parties for dominance, something this fic does skip over because while I see Eris enjoying the hunt, I can't see him enjoying his mate struggling below him, even if it is consensual, due to his family history. I apologize. I skipped that aspect, but you all may have noticed the absolute Crackship I have another predator prey set up for. That couples going to go down swinging no matter how I write that dynamic.

💕Peep the Valentines Day List here💕

As always, NSFW below the cut

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Warnings - chasing, rough smut no traditional foreplay, p in v, slight hints of dirty talk, biting.

You shouldn't have been in the woods this late. You knew it was dangerous and that the trees themselves were awake and alerting any waiting predators that an unarmed female was walking alone through them.

After hours of dealing with your father in law, you had just wanted a few moments alone and made the choice to walk to the cabin you shared with Eris instead of winnowing.

That had been a mistake. Despite being in a seasonal court, day and night still shifted with the rest of the world, and golden rays of light gave in to star patterned darkness much too fast for comfort. You huddled your hood tighter, ignoring the bite of the autumn chill, and kept walking.

“Well, well, well,” the snap of a branch made you jump, heart beating faster as you froze. “What do we have here? A pretty mouse all by herself?”

You spun quickly, eyes wide as your husband approached with 3 hounds flanking him and growling. “Eris-” he shot you a look, silencing you.

“What you're going to do, little mouse, is run. You are going to turn and run and hope I don't catch you.” He took a step toward you, one you mirrored by stepping back. “Because if I catch you, I fuck you, and that would be mercy compared to what lurks in these woods just begging to get their teeth into you.”

He took another step, a bigger one causing you to stare straight at his chest until you looked up. He kissed you gently, the only gentle thing you knew you would get tonight before sliding one of his hounds training toys into the pocket of your cloak. “Run.”

You knew from the moment you accepted the bond, Eris was a bit of a sadist. But you also knew the first time that curtain dropped and your husband chained you to a wall, spanking you until your legs gave out, that you were a masochist. His mistake was calling you a mouse, though. You knew Eris had no understanding of how intelligent mice were. Mice were natural students, learning and adapting to their environment and tricks.

And you? You had learned.

You ran finding a large tree to abandon the cloak on before winnowing about 15 feet away, taking the training toy with you. You watched as Orion, Astrid, and Nova sat at the tree, looking up at Eris, then back to the cloak. Orion whined loudly, nudging the fabric as Eris growled.

Those hounds would never hurt you. Those hounds were chasing you for fun. And you had spoiled it. You cracked a branch on purpose, smiling and laughing as Nova perked back up, then began running towards where you had taken off from.

“Cheap tricks won't help you, mouse!” The dark laughter in his voice has your core tightening. You ran faster, heading near the direction of the cabin enough that he wouldn't think anything of it.

You were actually aiming for the lake nearby, though. Wanting him to fuck you under the full moon and all of her stars. Wanting to feel him pressing you into the dirt.

Eris caught your right as you reached it, a soft laugh as he did, and he took you rolling into the dirt and grass. Settling on top of you, Eris smirked. “This isn't home, mouse.”

You tossed the toy, listening as the hound Cheerfully began playing. Submission was setting in, creeping through your bones like an old ache. “No, sir.”

His warm hand came, holding your throat. “If you wanted to be fucked like an animal, y/n, you just had to ask.” You moaned at the words, at him seeing through you. He got up, forcing you on to your stomach, and began ripping the dress you were wearing. He placed a hand back on your neck, holding you down and leaning into you, whispering in your ear. “Do animals get prepared, mouse? Remind me.”

“No, sir,” it came out as more of a whimper than a sentence, a moan leaving your throat soon after. Eris wad grinding himself against you, cock straining heavily in his pants.

Eris was inside of you mere moments later, heavy cock stretching you open with a delicious burn. He was growling above you, rutting into you over and over while you wiggled and whimpered below him.

Nights like this, nights where sex was a mesh of teeth, of bruises, of thrusts so deep you could feel every inch of him lighting you on fire, normally meant Eris had a long day, a day where he felt no control, no joy. A day where he felt belittled.

Sex like this wasn't about you, and if you came, it was a reward. Sex like this was about Eris. You knew when he calmed down after this, when he would eventually carry you to the cabin, he'd take his time making love to you there until you were no more than a soaked mess below him, body pliant and spent from countless orgasms.

You whimpered as the thrusts grew harder, pushing you into the grass as your nails dug into the soft earth. Eris's growls were becoming louder, an occasional groan thrown in as he took you wildly with no regard for your body.

You were dripping for him, panting his name between wails of pleasure and soft cries of need. You loved sex like this, loved when he held you down, when he allowed you to make him work for it. To make him hunt you down.

You felt the first twitch of his cock, clenching around him in response and smiled into the ground. “All mine,” he grunted above you. “You are all mine, do you hear me?” His mouth came to your neck, licking and sucking your pulse point.

“Gonna fuck you until you don't even know your own name.” It was a promise, a zap engraving itself on your skin as he held your hand. He chuckled darkly again, your mind melting into those soft kisses contrasting against each sharp movement inside of you.

His breathing was becoming as labored as your own, his groans becoming more and more frenzied and desperate. “Cum inside me, Eris. Mark me as yours,” his grip on your hip became impossibly tight.

One more thrust had your walls tightening around him.

Another had you screaming his name as teeth sunk into your pulse point, bruising and marking that tender flesh.

The last had you babbling, moaning, and whining as you were violently thrown from the edge, squeezing and clenching around him over, over, and over again until he was spilling into you, filling you as he groaned and lapped away the blood he drew.

You both calmed, you still wiggling below him as a few last sloppy rolls of his hips worked to drive you into over stimulation.

Eris peppered soft kisses along your jawline, up to your temple, into your hair. “You okay?”

“Again.” He smiled into you, leaning to kiss you deeply.

“When we get home, after you eat and bathe, I will make all your sick dreams come true, mouse. I promise."

General Taglist -

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

Valentines Day Taglist -

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

#acotar #acotar x reader #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris smut #eris acotar #eris acosf #eris fic #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra acotar

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modern-gremlin · 4 days

Text

Morning Errands | Sebastian SDV — Married Life 🔞

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pairing: Sebastian (SDV) x afab!reader

Summary: You need Sebastian's help with beginning-of-season errands. If only there was a way you could "wake him up".

Tags: Husband!Sebastian, Smut, established relationship, detailed descriptions of sex, a dash of fluff. NSFW Tags below the cut.

Word Count: 2,900 (I did it, a fic under 5,000 words lol) A/N: Fun Fact — this idea started as a non-SDV related adult animation concept I was in early development of. I unfortunately do not have a lot of time for animating things anymore, so it's definitely more feasible to write it down. PLUS, I just love quickly shooting these stories out — better spat out here than rotting in my brain!!

It was really fun to rewrite it to fit the Stardew Valley world; I think it just gives me so much more to work with. Especially when it comes to writing about the world in detail. (and I get to feed my Sebastian brainworms <33) Hope you enjoy the read xoxo

NSFW Tags: morning sex, foreplay (dry humping), some dirty talk (mostly teasing), oral (male receiving), overstimulation, creampie

"Seb? Seeeeebb, it's 6:40," you say softly with a gentle shake of his arm, "we gotta get going." Still unwilling to move from his comfortable spot on the bed, Sebastian stifles a sleepy groan in response. It's always been hard to wake him up — that's something you knew even before you married him. Working freelance comes with the blessing and curse of setting your own work schedule, which means late night cramming sessions are a normal occurrence. You don't really blame him for wanting to sleep in, but today, he promised to help you with your ever-growing list of morning chores.

You run your fingers through his hair, lightly brushing the dark strands off his cheek with the back of your fingers. He just looks so peaceful when he's asleep; it's really such a shame to wake him up like this. Especially when he wraps his arm around you to cuddle against your thigh. It's almost tempting to sink yourself back into his arms and shut the whole world away under the protection of your shared bed covers. Almost — but you know better than to underestimate your beginning-of-season errands. It doesn't help that you also agreed to host a family dinner with Robin and Demetrius this evening. So much to do, so little time. In hindsight, you wish you planned this all a little better.

With a little more force this time, you try to shake him awake. "Mmph… just a few more minutes…" he mumbles while releasing his arms from your thigh, now lying on his back. At least he's able to get a few words out. That's a good sign, you think to yourself. You head toward your bathroom, hoping that by the time you're done brushing your teeth he'll be sitting upright. Maybe.

A soft, cool breeze enters the small opening of your window as you pass through the hallway. It's remarkable how quickly the seasons change in the valley. From your view in the bathroom, you can catch a glimpse of your summer crops, now reduced to wilted clumps in the soil. You'll definitely need Seb's help with this today. You take a little extra time to brush your teeth and wash your face, trying to buy him time to get up. He's gotta be awake by now, right?

You're not surprised to see him still splayed on the bed, eyes just barely fluttering at the sound of your footsteps entering the room. "Seb, it's almost 7 now. I really need your help," you plead sweetly, hoping the cute tone you've adopted would prompt him to move with more haste. He just smiles and offers a curt, "Mhm," in response, eyes still shut. Wow, he's really out of it, huh? You might need to switch strategies.

If you married Sebastian knowing that he's not exactly a morning person, he should also count on the fact that you're always up for a little bit of mischief — because now, you've got a plan that's basically foolproof. Creeping up to the bed, you slowly plant a knee on each side of his body to gently straddle his lap. With your chest pressed against his, you place kisses on his face. "Sebby, come on" you whisper tenderly into his ear, "you can get up for me, can't you?" He lets out an amused huff out of his nose and wraps an arm around the small of your back. He's definitely more awake now, but perhaps a little more provocation will do the trick.

You kiss along his jaw down to the side of his neck, playing with the collar of his t-shirt with your fingers. His eyes lazily open when you stop, now meeting his gaze from where your cheek rests on his chest. "Morning, sleepyhead. Remember those errands I need help with?" you tease. He lovingly smirks at your remark, placing a hand on your head to gently stroke your hair.

"Mm… what time is it?" he asks in a raspy voice. You answer his question with a light pinch of his cheek,

"Probably seven, by now. We're running a little late, y'know?"

The fact that 7AM is considered late to you is something he's still getting used to. If left to his own devices, he'd absolutely sleep the day away and have his breakfast at 3PM. Yet, he tries his best to slip into your daily schedule because that'd mean he'd get more time to see your face throughout the day, wouldn't it? But you know what they say, old habits die hard, and right now his old habits have him basically glued to the bed.

"What are the chances I can convince you to push these errands to tomorrow?" he asks cheekily.

"Hm… slim to none," you reply. "With the dinner party today and the fair coming up in a few weeks, it's gonna be really tough to–" You notice his eyes droop as you speak. "Seb?" He startles awake at the sudden call of his name.

"M' sorry, babe. Promise I'm not doing it on purpose," Sebastian rubs his eyes and yawns. "It's just... hard to stay awake."

With a smile, you shake your head and sigh, "what am I gonna do with you?"

"Hm…I don't know. What are you going to do with me?" He places his hands onto your back again, looking down at you with a suggestive smirk.

Leaning in closer to his face, just barely grazing your mouth over his, you whisper, "I might have a few ideas."

Placing your hands around his neck, thumbs resting against his jaw, you pull him closer into a deep kiss. He tightens the grip around your waist in response, pulling you closer toward him. God, if he wasn't awake a few minutes ago, he definitely is waking up now. He takes your mouth into his, enveloping your lips entirely and gently brushing them with his tongue. You can feel your pulse quickening as your breasts press firmly against him; an urge slowly building and itching at you from below. Unable to contain yourself, you lower your hips to grind against the thick bulge beneath you. You can't help but smile at how hard he already is; grinning against his tongue.

You pull away to shift your weight onto his clothed cock, gasping at how it rubs against you. "At least one part of you is up," you jeer, rocking slow movements against his length. He muses at your words and brushes his hair away from his face, granting him a better view of your body on top of his.

"Can you blame you blame me?" he smiles, his sleepy eyes scanning your form. Running thumbs underneath the hem of your shirt, he gingerly lifts up the fabric to reveal your bare chest steadily bouncing at the rhythm your clothed pussy rubs against him. "Fuck me," he gasps breathily, "what a way to wake up."

His exasperation makes you laugh, motivating you to grind your hips with more fervour. "I'm glad this is working," you admit, "because we have just– so much– to do…" Your words are broken up with every sway of your hips. He pulls your shirt off your arms as you continuously pleasure yourself with his dick, moaning and creating a wet spot on his boxers. He just watches as you use him, in absolute awe by how your body reacts to his. His head slowly falls backward onto the pillow, closing his eyes to take in the stimulation. Then suddenly, you stop.

His eyes dart open again at your weight being lifted off his lap, ready to pull you back onto him. You move his hands away and lower your face to his lap. "Nuh uh. You gotta wake up," you chastise before pulling down his boxers. He groans breathily when his thick cock springs free, smacking his toned stomach from the speed of your movements. Without warning, you spit on his tip and run your palm against his shaft, causing him to tense at the sudden sensation. For a while, he can only stare at you with furrowed brows and complete admiration.

"I should sleep in more often," he teases while grinning at his own remark. But soon his sly grin is replaced by a strained grit because you wrap your fingers around his fat length, stroking him at an unfair pace. He perches himself up by the elbows, watching you fist his cock from base to tip. "Fuck, baby. You gotta slow down or ill–" You lower yourself to lick his balls, dragging your way up the shaft.

"Can't, Sebby," you say, stopping at the tip. "Can't have you falling asleep on me." Taking his length in your hand, you guide his cock into the warmth of your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head.

He instinctually places his hands on the top of your head as he throws back his own. The bed gently shakes at the bobbing of your head, catching and swallowing his length into your throat. It's all so sudden; so frustratingly sexy that he can hardly take it. With the hand that grips at your hair, he tries to pry you off him — hoping to gain some reprieve. But this only invites you to suck on him with more excitement. It's just too hard to resist when he praises you in his gravelly, morning voice. "Holy fuck, babe. You're too good at tha–" You can feel his cock twitch in your mouth as he pushes you away from him; he must be close.

With a gentle tug of your hair, you give in and pull away. You and Sebastian heave heavily, the latter trying to regain his composure. He's usually the one to make you melt underneath him, so you can't help but marvel at his flustered expression. "You awake now?" you triumph with a mischievous smile. He picks himself up to stare into you; the look in his eyes tell you that you're in for it now.

Releasing his grip, he sits himself upright and leans toward you. "Hm, yeah. I think I am," he says while returning your expression, "turn around."

Without a question, you turn yourself around, resting your chest on the bed while lifting your ass toward him. You wiggle your hips tauntingly in his direction until you're greeted by a firm smack — a small yelp escapes your lips from the impact. "So impatient," he chides while soothing the sting with his palm, "well, you got what you wanted. I'm up." He slaps your ass again before leaning behind you, pressing his chest to your back to whisper into your ear, "unless…there's something else you wanted."

Just the sound of his condescending tone sends shivers down your spine, and he knows it. He hooks a finger by your dripping slit and tugs at your underwear, causing the fabric to bundle tightly against your clit. All semblances of your mischief has disappeared, vanished with his scolding and now you're moaning his name into the covers. You can tell he's enjoying every lewd noise you make, because now he's tugging at your panties harder, trying to elicit a bigger reaction.

"Well, now that I'm awake, let's go over our to-do list, hm?" He releases your underwear, only to slip his cock beneath the fabric and vigorously rub your clit.

"Seb… I can't–" you plead, eager to feel him plunge inside you. He places his hands on your waist, stroking soothing circles with his thumbs against your back.

"Don't worry, baby. You'll get it, after we go through the list. Okay?" he coos.

Stumbling your words in between moans, you begin listing the day's tasks. "W-we… need to clear off the crops…and prepare the fields."

"Mhm," he hums while wetting his tip along your slit. "What's next?"

"Clear off the weeds in front of the b-baaaarn–" You words shake as he teases your entrance with his tip, gliding it to catch your slick. "Then go to Pierre's… to pick up ingredients for tonight." Your legs quiver as he prods your wet cunt, not fully entering.

"Is there…anything else?" Sebastian meaninglessly asks, his own voice getting shaky in anticipation. He doesn't really care what's on the to-do list, not at the moment at least. No doubt he'll have to ask about it later, because all he cares about now is making you beg to be railed.

"We might also need to–" This time, he slowly pushes his cock through your wet folds, slipping himself inch by inch into your cunt until his thighs are flush against you. His size fills you entirely, stopping any words from escaping your mouth.

He lets out a breathy moan as he feels your pussy clench around him, still gritting his teeth to continue, "We might need to what? I didn't… catch the last part." He nearly pulls himself out entirely while waiting for your response.

"We…might need to–" You breathe in heavily while his dick pulses inside you. "Seb, please," you beg in a petulant tone. Your cries are so needy and desperate, but you don't care. There's no pride between you two, only true love and the aching desire to be fucked. Lucky for you, the feeling is mutual. Deciding he's equally impatient, he fucks his full length back into you.

"I think I get the gist," he says with a satisfied smile before plunging himself in and out of your cunt. He so badly wants to praise how well you took his teasing, but he's almost completely breathless. Lost for words at how tight you are, how well your pretty pussy takes him, and utterly smitten by the way you moan his name between thrusts. He wants to pound more of them out of you — a reminder to everyone in town that you've chosen him and he's the one fucking you the way you deserve.

Really, this is just one of the many moments he's reminded just how lucky he is. He feels so lucky that you decided to move to this boring town. So lucky that you stuck around despite his icy exterior, and miraculously lucky that you fell in love with him. Now he gets to wake up beside you everyday, fuck you like no one else can, and navigate life's mundanities with the person he loves. Morning errands be damned; nothing ever feels like a chore now that you're his.

He pounds you harder now — as if he's trying to bury his intentions deep inside you so you can feel his gratitude. Because even all his sly remarks and bullied thrusts are just another way of praising you; another way to tell you he loves you without saying it out loud. Your pussy clenches down on him so tightly, grasping onto his praises like your life depended on it. Ready to cum all over his cock to confirm that you feel the same. But even if your cunt wasn't being obvious, your words certainly were.

"Seb– it feels so. Fucking. Good," you whine in between thrusts. You try to warn him of your impending burst, but the arch of your back signals your orgasm much faster than you can speak. Backing your ass further into him, you accept his length against your cervix until you feel your release. You convulse around him, whispering thank you's under your breath. The only sound reaching his ears are your muffled cries of pleasure and the squeaking of the bed. He fucks you through your orgasm, but even after you come down from the high, he's still not done.

He rails your stimulated pussy over and over again, causing you to reach out your hand behind you to slow him down. "S-sebastian, I just came. Slower, it's so f-fast"

Grabbing your arm by the wrist, he plows deeper into you. "Sorry, baby. Can't," he says breathily, "We got too much to do today, remember?" You turn your head back to look over your shoulder and flash him a blissed-out smile, silently laughing at his twist of your words.

Reaching around to your front, he rubs circles around your puffy clit while he fucks his last few, sloppy blows inside you. "So close, babe. M'so fucking…close" he says with gritted teeth. His movements on your bud stokes the fire within you, threatening to shatter you once again. With one last buck of his hips against yours, he shoots his load deep inside your pussy, filling you to the brim with in white. He groans profanities as he sputters small thrusts into you. The warmth of his semen hitting against you is the last straw, sending you into your second orgasm of the day.

Dropping your wrist from his grip, he leans forward onto your back, pulling out slightly causing his cum to spill out of you. You breathe in unison, heavily and laboured as you try to regain your bearings. Maybe it's been ten minutes or maybe it was an hour, but you both lay beside each other, unbothered by the time that's passing you by.

When you both come down to your senses, your eyes lock onto his and suddenly you're both chuckling at the morning's happenings. With a bright-eyed smile, he takes your palm to rest on his cheek. Placing a kiss on your knuckles, he greets you to start the day.

"Good morning, honey."

#sdv sebastian x reader #stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley sebastian #sdv sebastian #stardew valley smut #sdv smut #smut #stardew valley fanfic #stardew smut #also I finished this super late in the morning #I couldn't sleep #I hope it makes sense

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cxrsed-angel · 5 days

Text

Key Hooks Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Fluff

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Joel repeatedly loses his keys after you suggest a key dish. He finally gets a key hook and has a suggestion of his own.

Warnings: None really. slight mention of sex, domesticated fluff. No Outbreak Au. Sarah is in college.

A/N: Just Joel based on an ad and a dream I had. Pretty sure this is my first fic with Joel that doesn't have an age difference mentioned 😭. Also, it's the first nonsmut Joel fic in a while. (also nervous bc i haven't posted in a while and I kinda hate the title but whatever)

Joel was running late, super late. He had woken up later than expected. Hit snooze on his alarm twice. Partially because you were in his bed, and he didn't want to leave you, but partially because of you again because you kept him up begging him to fuck you more, and of course, he couldn’t resist. He could never tell you no, but that resulted in him being sore and tired and missing his two alarms.

You woke up yourself when you heard him cursing and muttering to himself, loudly moving things around, frantically searching for something.

You sit up in his bed, confused by the sounds Joel is making as he searches for his keys. Looking at him, you see him shake a pair of jeans that was lying on the floor.

“What the hell are you doing? Shouldn't you be leaving?” you ask, barely awake as you look at the time on his alarm clock.

“Can't find my damn keys.” He moves, searching through the stuff on his nightstand.

“I told you you needed a key holder.” Slowly leaving the warmth of his bed to help him search for the missing keys. You look on the other nightstand but don't see them there either. You sigh, looking as Joel searches on his messy dresser.

“Where'd you leave them?” you ask mid-yawn, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. It still takes a moment to actually wake up, and you're fairly tired from last night as well.

“Don't remember, you were yanking my pants off the second I got through the door, could be anywhere.” Joel searches on the floor but still fails to find them.

You nod, remembering how desperately you needed him after he returned from work. Putting your hands on him the first chance you got.

You decide to go downstairs. You glance at the clock. 9:30 a.m. Yeah, he was already 30 minutes late for work. You get out of his bed, putting on a pair of slippers you keep at his place. You search downstairs, checking underneath mail and other documents, on counters, and in the kitchen, but nothing. Joel’s not far behind you, also searching downstairs.

“Are you sure you can't skip today? Stay home. I can skip; we can both relax at home.” You ask, joking, kind of, but you're meant with just one of his unamused glares, taking it as a no. He sighs, frustrated as the search continues.

You move to the couch, searching under the cushions, the scene of last night's activities; you figure they could’ve slipped in between the cushions.

“You know, if you had a key holder, you could’ve been out the door.” You remind him as you look around for them.

“Also could've been out the door if you didn't beg me to fuck you last night before I even had my shoes off and made me lose them in the first place.”

You nodded. He had a point. With how fast you were on him, you probably tossed his keys across the room. You reach into the couch cushions and feel the familiar shape of keys in your hand. You hold them up, jangling them to show Joel you found them. He smiles as he walks towards you to grab them, but you pull them away from his reach at the last minute.

“You will finally get a key rack. I mean, I get it. Sarah moved into her dorm, so you want the whole man cave thing and everything, but will a key rack kill you? He rolls his eyes and reaches for them, nodding.

“Yes, I’ll get a damn key rack now give them so I can go.” He reaches, grabs the keys out of your hand, and gives you a quick kiss on your lips before leaving.

A few weeks later, Joel picked you up for a date and decided to take you to a new movie. You're in his black pickup truck heading back to his house since you have a few roommates back at your apartment and just want to spend time with him alone. After a car ride of forcing Joel to listen to your favorite songs since he lost rock paper scissors you got control of the music. He pulls into his driveway, turning the car off.

“Can’t believe I spent the last 15 minutes listening to that.” He grumbles, getting out of his truck, you watch as he comes around to the passenger side to open your door. You quickly find that you’ll never be opening doors when you're with him.

You smile as you get out. “You were dancing to it. Don't think I missed that.” He rolls his eyes as he closes the truck door behind you with his right hand while his left comes to the small of your back.

“I wasn’t dancin’. You were seeing things. The truck was just moving.” He walks with you to his front door as you laugh. Knowing he was definitely dancing to the songs.

“Yea? Does the truck always move to the beat or just this once?” You giggle again as you enter his house, your second home. He’s right behind you, closing and locking his door. You're removing your shoes and getting more comfortable when you hear his keys jingle.

You bend over, taking your shoes off, not facing him, but you didn't want a repeat of a few weeks ago. “Better remember where you put them this time, old man. I don't need you tearing your place apart at 8:00 am because you can't bother getting a key dish.”

“Well, I won’t forget since they have a home now.” His words make you stand up

You look up, noticing a wooden key rack with a shelf above it and a spot for mail. You see Miller engraved in the wood. You see Joel’s set of keys on it, and you smile.

“You bought a key holder?” You stare shocked at him, never expecting that he actually would.

“No, I built a key holder with some leftover wood and got some hooks. Sarah helped me with it one weekend. It was she who told me to add the mail holder.”

You laugh, looking at it closer, admiring his work, and looking at his house with his woodwork around. The shelves, the bookcase, the CD stand—all things he made over the years.

“You know it never fails to amaze me when you show me what you make. You've made things like a dresser and a table, and you made my desk for me and added cute flowers on it.”

Joel shrugs, never been good at accepting compliments, he shakes his head as he looks at the key holder.

“It’s my job, sweetheart. Would be kinda embarrassing if I was shit at it. I’ve been building things since I was a kid with my dad. He taught me and Tommy.”

You nod, slightly rolling your eyes at his inability to accept a compliment. You move closer to him. “Yeah, I know, but it’s still cool, Joel.”

You feel his hand come to your lower back, pulling you into a kiss, and you instantly melt against him, feeling his lips on yours. His left hand joins his right on the small of your back, pulling you even closer against him. Before the kiss gets too heated, you feel his lips leaving yours.

“Wait, almost forgot.” You watch as Joel reaches into the back pocket of his Levi’s, pulling out a single key and holding it out to you. “a key cause…well, I know you mentioned your lease ending in a few weeks….and well, we've been together for a bit…. I was just thinking about you moving in. If you want. If you don’t, that’s fine. I mean, you can keep the key anyway and-“

You crack a faint smile hearing him ramble and you could tell he was nervous about asking you to move in, which was sweet. You had thought about it but assumed Joel had preferred his bachelor pad since Sarah moved into her dorm this past fall. You never thought he’d actually ask. you only mentioned your lease ending soon once on the phone. You didn’t imagine he’d remember, let alone offer you to move in.

“You want me to? Because I have a lot of shit, and Sarah just moved out. ” you smile a bit, seeing him laugh.

“it’s up to you, baby. No pressure, just offering. But half your shit is here anyway. You spend most nights here anyway, and I got half your wardrobe taking up room in my closet already.”

You nod, smiling, knowing he was 100% right. You’re still thinking about what to do when he speaks again.

“Sweetheart, I don’t need an answer right now. Relax. Just let me know, okay? My offer isn’t going anywhere.”

His deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts as he grabs your hand lightly, pulling you into his living room. You sit on the couch while he goes to the kitchen, grabbing the remote to find something to watch. A few minutes later, Joel hands you a glass filled with your favorite wine while he has a beer for himself. Moving his arm around your shoulder, he pulls closer to you, still thinking about his offer in the back of your mind.

#joel <3 #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller au #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader fluff #joel miller fic #angel writes

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stars-and-inkpots · 8 months

Note

Could you possibly write more soft Gale fics? He just deserves so much love and healing. I really liked how you wrote Reverence. Sorry I don’t have a more specific ask, I’m not very good when it comes to fic ideas.

Absolutely I can, I love writing for Gale so much, and he really does deserve the world. Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy!

Late Night Book Club | Gale x Reader

No matter what you try, you just can't seem to sleep. Between nightmares and insomnia, you start to think you might never get a good night's rest again.

Gale seems to share the same issue.

While you might not be able to completely solve your problems, at least the two of you aren't alone in them anymore.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Cuddling, Insomnia, Nightmares, Comfort, Fluff, First Kiss, Love Confessions (kinda)

Notes: choosing a name for this was the hardest part about writing it

Ao3 Link: Late Night Book Club

Word Count: 2,150

For whatever reason, you find yourself awake far later than everyone else. This shouldn’t be too much of a problem, if it wasn’t for the fact that this was the second night in a row where sleep eluded you to the point of exhaustion. The little amount of sleep you did manage to get was plagued with uncomfortable dreams that teetered on the edge of nightmares, making sure the rest was fitful. You knew you had to sleep; you couldn’t hope to lead the group if you were barely able to stand tomorrow. It’s frustrating. It isn’t like you aren’t trying to sleep either; you laid there for hours before finally giving up and leaving your tent to tend to the fire that has steadily burnt down to the last embers. It’s here where Gale finds you.

The look on your face only adds to his concern at seeing you up so late. You don’t notice his approach, another thing that makes Gale think something must be wrong.

“Is everything alright?” He asks softly, though the sudden noise still startles you. He watches you turn and immediately relax when you realise it’s only him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry,” you apologise, but you aren’t exactly sure what you're apologising for. Perhaps it's for letting all of them down with your inability to sleep, knowing you’ll hold them back tomorrow. Then you notice that Gale looks just as tired.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asks.

You’re sure your exhaustion is evident enough, you can feel the weight under your eyes. A part of you hates feeling like you need to be taken care of. You don’t want to acknowledge that help would be both welcome and useful, but you know these feelings are simply a byproduct of the exhaustion that weighs on your shoulders. You can’t fault Gale for wanting to help.

“No, it’s alright. You need your own rest.” The day had been tough on all of you. Gale, though talented when it came to magic, was pushed to his own limits today.

“Very well. Would you at least allow me to sit with you for a few moments then?” Gale asks.

You only nod, and Gale sits beside you on the ground. You’ve managed to get the fire going a little stronger again, and the warmth is appreciated by both of you. You’re suddenly aware of just how close you are, knees almost touching. You blame the warmth in your cheeks on the fire.

“If there is something bothering you, I am more than happy to listen.” There is genuine care in his words. He is worried about you. As much as you don’t want to burden your companions with your troubles, he seems adamant that he wants to hear them.

“I can’t sleep is all,” you admit. “It’s nothing serious. Just can’t sleep, and then when I do my dreams end up waking me up again.” It feels childish to say that your dreams are the primary culprit of your lack of sleep. You’ve been through so much in the past weeks, but it’s nightmares of all things that finally get to you.

But Gale doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t tease you. Instead, he looks at you with only sympathy and understanding. He doesn’t pry any further, and you’re thankful.

“What about you? Why are you still up? If you want to share, of course,” you’re quick to add. You don’t want him to feel like he has to tell you his own troubles just because you told him yours.

“We have similar problems it seems,” is all Gale answers. You return his earlier kindness by not pressing him to elaborate either.

The two of you sit there in comfortable silence again.

“I understand if you wish to remain alone, but if you ever wish for company when you cannot sleep, you are always most welcome to visit me.” He says it so quietly, hesitantly, but not unsure. Knowing you don’t need to spend the nights awake alone, at least, is a comfort, and the thought of spending the time talking with Gale is pleasant; even if that time is simply spent sitting near to one another.

You smile. “I might take you up on that offer.”

Gale gives you a fond look. The golden light of the fire makes him look soft and at ease, though, maybe that’s only because he’s with you.

“I think I’ll try to sleep again. Thank you for this, Gale.” You stand, and he does the same.

“Anytime.”

Sleep still doesn’t come easy when you return to your tent, but eventually you’re able to get, at least, a little bit of dreamless sleep before you’re awoken again. The gaps between sleep and consciousness are still more frequent than you want, but it’s better than nothing.

---

The next day is rough. Gale doesn’t look like he had much luck with sleep either, and you’re almost thankful because he is more inclined to ask the group to slow down than you are. Maybe the others can tell that you’re also struggling, because no one complains when the steady pace is interrupted.

Perhaps some god out there is looking out for you, because the day’s travel is mercifully uneventful.

Setting up camp again is a chore. You do your best to help where you can, but you can barely stand as it is.

“Get some rest, soldier. We’ve got it from here,” Karlach says to you, voice quiet. You know she’s trying to be nice, but it feels like pity and you hate it. You swallow your pride and thank her before returning to your tent.

Even though your body aches and your head is starting to hurt, when you lay down, you only end up staring at the roof of the tent. You suddenly just aren’t tired. You know you’re tired, because your body feels tired, but at the same time you aren’t , and it’s only partly caused by fear of the dreams you know await you. It’s frustrating to no end.

After another few minutes of laying there with your eyes closed, you finally give in.

Only a few of the others are still awake, sitting and talking with each other around the fire. They don’t notice you skirting around the edge of camp towards Gale’s tent. It’s not that you feel like you need to keep this a secret, you just don’t think you have the energy to talk to anyone besides the wizard right now.

“Gale? Can I come in?” You ask softly outside the tent. You know he’s awake; you can see shadows that dance across the walls.

“Of course,” Gale answers. Before you can move to open the tent flap, he waves a hand and it opens for you.

“What a gentleman,” you tease, but even you can hear how tired you sound.

“Always for you,” he returns with a smile, but there’s a truth in his words that brings a warmth to your face.

You finally notice how cosy his tent is. There are several books, all of them stacked in piles that must be organised in a way you can’t discern. The ground is covered in plush blankets and pillows. Fluttering around the top of the tent are small, almost iridescent orbs of light, some purple and others blue. They give enough light for Gale to read, but keep the tent dim enough to be pleasant.

“Please, sit down, make yourself comfortable.”

You sit beside him; closer than you were last night, leaning against his side slightly. You peer over at the book in his hands, surprised to find it isn’t some arcane tome. As far as you can tell, it’s just a normal adventure novel.

“Don’t let me interrupt you, you can keep reading.” Even just sitting here beside him is enough of a comfort; the tension already starting to seep out of your shoulders. You don’t want to talk about anything yet, and you figure that Gale shares the same sentiment.

“Do you want me to read to you?” Gale asks, and though you almost think he’s joking, you realise he really means it.

“That would be nice.”

And it is. You’ve always enjoyed listening to him talk; Gale has a lovely voice. He picks up where he left off when you got there. He wasn’t too far into the book yet, but he still pauses occasionally to explain something. Eventually you close your eyes, focused only on his voice, the details of his words getting blurry.

“Can we lay down?” You mumble tiredly.

“That’s a good idea,” Gale says with a smile, having already noticed the way your head has begun to dip forward as sleep begins to pull at you.

It takes a bit of coordination, but eventually you’re both underneath the thick blanket that Gale pulls tighter around the two of you. You move closer to him, your head underneath his chin, and he wraps an arm around you. He’s warm, and you feel safer than you have in weeks. He starts reading again, fingers playing idly with your hair. Within another minute, your breathing has evened out and you’re fast asleep.

Gale folds the corner of the page to mark where you two left off and closes the book before he sets it aside with the countless others. Eventually, he manages to fall asleep too.

Both of you still wake up a few times in the middle of the night. You didn’t expect this to be some miracle cure for your sleep problems, but having Gale there holding you when you wake up makes getting back to sleep a little easier. The same can be said for Gale who wakes up several times, only to be calmed down once he feels your arms around him. The two of you are able to get a good rest, and when you wake up in the morning you don’t feel the same ache in your bones as you did the past few mornings.

It becomes a sort of routine between you. In the evenings, after everyone leaves for their tents, you follow Gale to his or he follows you to yours. Then he reads to you, and sometimes you read to him, and you both let sleep find you in each other's arms. The nightmares are getting more bearable, and even on the worst nights when neither of you can sleep no matter how much you try, at least you’re there together.

---

It’s been a week since you started this arrangement. The book is nearly finished. Gale had promised to let you pick out the next one.

He brushes through your hair with one hand, the book held open in the other. You listen while he starts reading the last few pages. The hero who’s story you’ve been following through the novel culminates in one final battle against evil. It’s cliché, you think to yourself, and then smile because isn’t this exactly your own life now? And what hero story is complete without a lover to kiss them at the end, which is precisely what happens. Good prevails, and the hero gets their true love.

Gale feels your smile against his neck and, for reasons he understands but doesn’t want to admit yet, feels a warmth flood his cheeks.

“The End,” he announces, snapping the book closed with a flourish, earning a laugh from you. “What did you think?”

“It was nice. It felt more like a romance novel at the end.”

Gale hums in agreement. “Yes, but I think that's what I enjoyed most.” He puts the book down then returns to hugging you close to him.

“I agree, it felt natural.” You hope Gale understands what you mean.

He does.

The two of you have been dancing around this for a while now, neither one of you ready to acknowledge it. But there’s something about tonight that feels different.

You lean back to look at Gale’s face, bringing a hand up to guide a strand of greying brown hair behind his ear. Your hand lingers on his cheek, thumb brushing gently across his skin. He puts his own hand over yours, moving it to kiss your palm. It’s a careful gesture, tender and nervous all at the same time.

When you move to kiss him, he meets you halfway. It’s a soft kiss; a testament to these nights you’ve spent together. When you part, you rest your forehead against his. The way he looks at you makes your heart swell: like you mean everything to him.

He kisses you once more before you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. He holds you like he’s scared you’ll disappear, and you tighten your arms around him as if to answer: 'I could never.'

You both sleep the best you have in weeks, still there for each other each time you wake.

#baldurs gate x reader #x reader fic #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate gale #gale dekarios #gale x reader #gale x you #request

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violetrainbow412-blog · 7 months

Text

Day 22: apology fic

Based directly on S2E17

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

tw: Reid's addiction, withdrawal symptoms, it's more like hurt/comfort but I think that was the point of this prompt, haha

You hugged your pillow tighter as you looked out the jet window, feeling too sad to try to fall asleep, but tired enough to do anything else.

You felt hurt by the argument you had had with your friend, with whom you had previously sat in an armchair to sleep together, but who was now sleeping alone on one of the longest seats.

Spencer had been weird, and with good reason, since Tobias Hankel had deprived him of his freedom and you honestly didn't know how to help him anymore. You had tried approaching him to chat and constantly asking him if he was okay, always getting the same fake response from him. During cases you would offer to accompany him wherever Gideon sent him in an attempt to monitor his mood, but he always looked just as sad, quiet and tired.

However, things changed drastically when you heard the presentation of the case the day before and you saw Spencer arriving late, staggering and with a look that no longer seemed sad at all, but angry. There was something about the way he slurred his words that worried you and his dark stained eyes around him didn't help much.

It made you feel a little better that he offered to visit certain places when you were discussing responsibilities on the jet and you thought that if you accompanied him you could find time to talk to him, but you were taken by surprise by the cruel rejection he showed to your idea. Hotch noticed it too and forced your friend to accept your help, which he didn't seem too pleased with.

What you didn't expect was to see his ruthless and unconscious attitude when you visited the homeless shelter, hinting to the manager that literally anyone who entered could be a murderer and then just walking out of there.

“Okay, what the hell is happening?”

“What's happening with what?” XXX

“With you,” you murmured, frowning at your friend “You've been so strange lately and now you're upset and… what's going on?”

"What's going on?" he asked, sounding almost offended “I don't know Y/N, what do you think? Did you want me to be happy and smiling like a little child after everything that happened?”

“Spencer, I know, but…”

“No, you don't” he interrupted you, with a reprimanding tone that took you by surprise. Since you had started in the unit, he had never spoken to you that way, as if you were incapable of understanding things and that irritated him “You don't know anything and I ask you please not to get involved in things that don't concern you.”

“Things that don't concern me? You... I'm worried about you. We are friends, of course I am going to care about your well-being” XXX

“Do you care about me or do you care that I don't screw up the case?” he spat. No matter how much you tried to make him see reason, he was still locked around that black cloud that had been following him for weeks “Don't be a hypocrite.”

“I am not a hypocrite, it isn’t my fault that you believe that you only deserve good treatment when there is an interest involved”

Things had started to escalate, because if you weren't angry before, now you had started to feel that way.

“It's my damn problem whatever’s happening, not yours. You just mind your business and leave me alone, will you?”

He walked away and you stood there, contemplating for a moment what had just happened and feeling hurt. For the rest of the case you didn't speak and on the trip back you made sure to sit far enough away from him so you wouldn't have to face him. Only you and Hotch were awake that night and the man's voice asking if you were okay brought you out of your thoughts.

“I talked to Reid to find out what's going on and he told me to go to hell,” you responded, shrugging your shoulder and with a tone that denoted that you didn't want to talk more about the matter. Aaron just nodded and offered you a polite sorry, concentrating on the paperwork he had to fill out. XXX

You didn't talk about the incident with anyone else, but as the days passed the whole team noticed the barrier that had been installed between the two of you and that you were not willing to repair, after all you had been the one who had offended after trying to show him to your friend your concern. At the same time, while you felt the resentment brewing in your belly, Spencer was freeing himself from the suffocating effect of the drugs and with each moment of clarity that came to his mind he became more aware of the mistake he had made.

A week passed before the silence became unbearable. He wanted to get closer to you, but he didn't know how to do it and he didn't know if you would agree to talk to him after the way he had treated you. It was a Friday when he gathered his courage, so when he observed that you were about to go home he decided to cut you off by standing in front of you.

"Can I talk to you?"

“You're doing it,” you responded, looking at him from your seat seriously. Spencer noticed Morgan and JJ whispering in the distance, probably about the two of you, so he turned his eyes to you.

“Can we talk in private?” he rephrased, with a cautious tone that bordered on pleading. You didn't respond verbally, just nodded and he followed you towards the elevator. You went down in silence and once you were at the reception you continued walking to the parking lot, stopping next to your car.

Spencer didn't want to be the first to say something, almost like he was afraid of you.

"And then? What do you need?"

“I want to apologize to you,” he said quickly “For what happened the other day in Houston. I shouldn't have told you what I told you, I'm very sorry."

You were a little surprised because, although you assumed it was about it, you didn't expect him to tell you so directly, but rather you thought that he would try to justify his actions in some way. Still, you seemed a little reluctant to answer and Reid noticed that.

“It's okay, it doesn't matter.”

“It does,” he insisted and the parallel with your argument added a certain sensitivity to the moment “I was very rude to you and you didn't deserve it.”

“Reid, I think I should have respected that you don't want to talk about it.”

“Don't apologize, I'm the one apologizing here,” he murmured, not sounding annoyed, but desperate. He ran both hands through his hair and then thought that if he wanted his apology to be worth it, he would have to be honest with you “Listen, I haven't been having a good time since… that day” He swallowed, refusing to call the event a kidnapping “And when Tobias… when he…”

“Don't tell me,” you said softly, breaking the physical and emotional distance between you by taking a step forward “If you don't want to talk about it, I'm not going to make you.”

“I want to do it, but I don't know how. I’ve never known how to ask for help,” he sobbed. Suddenly his grumpiness in Texas seemed like nothing compared to seeing him this sore, which made your chest hurt “I feel like I'm falling into a bottomless pit and the only way to keep those I love safe is to keep them out of my own misery and thus free them of my burden.”

“You're not a burden,” you murmured, your voice shaking slightly at the thought of him feeling so worthless. “You were kidnapped, Spencer. You said it yourself, how can we expect you to be as if nothing had happened? I didn't want you to think I was pressuring you to be okay, I just… I wanted to know if there was anything he could do to help you. Because I want to do it, but only if you want me to do it”

“I'm sorry for telling you to leave me alone, I don't want that,” he cried and nothing more was needed for you to wrap him in a hug that he gladly accepted.

You could feel his silent tears on your shoulder and with every drop he let fall he felt more and more guilty, because he never intended for things to end like this. He was supposed to apologize to you and now you were comforting him.

He felt so selfish.

“Please don't be angry with me anymore.”

"No, no. I'm not angry," you reassured him, raising your hand to the back of his neck to caress his hair "Why don't I take you home instead? And I'm staying with you today, what do you say?

"Would you do it?"

“Of course,” you replied gently.

He accepted your offer and you drove the entire way without exchanging a word. Only once you were in the safety of his home he dared to tell you everything that needed to be said, still with a hint of guilt. But when you listened to him, forgave him, and hugged him he knew that he had chosen the right person to trust. And he also knew that he would treasure your friendship for all that remained of his life.

taglist: @navs-bhat@reidwritings@tricia-shifting14@spencerslove@vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

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