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famwhy · 9 months

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"Do you have any idea how long I've waited..."

"...for this moment?"

Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Yandere! Rodrick Heffley X F!Reader

Synopsis: Rodrick Heffley couldn't believe his own luck; you noticed him—you noticed him. This must've been fate, right? You must've loved him, there was no way you didn't. And if you loved him, then what he was doing was okay, right?—there was nothing wrong with it? Of course not, after all, you two were going to get married in the future, he was sure of it! All of this would just turn out to be a silly story you would tell your future kids about how you two first met. Yeah, that's all this was—one big, silly story.

Warnings: Mean!Reader, Depictions of toxic relationships, Stalking

"Dude, you're staring again."

Rodrick knew; he knew that he was staring again. But, how could he not? How could he not stare when the most drop-dead gorgeous girl in school was within just 10 feet of him?—when you were right there, before his very own eyes?

So close, and yet, so far.

"Dude!"

You stood by your locker—lips painted in that really pretty shade of cherry red to match with your striking eyeliner—basically demanding everyone's undivided attention; attention which you undoubtedly got.

Though, even if you—by some chance in this fucked up world—didn't receive that attention, Rodrick wouldn't hesitate to give it to you; Rodrick would give all of that attention times ten to you. Hell, if you so much as asked him for it, Rodrick would give you the world.

"Hey!"

He was melting—he knew he was—turning into putty at your very arms, even if they weren't anywhere near him. Regardless, his bones morphed into mush and his face went as red as the lipstick you adorned on that pretty mouth of yours he longed to get a taste of.

He could gaze at you for days and never get enough.

What he couldn't gaze at for days, however, was what occurred next.

A pair of strong arms sprung out of nowhere, wrapping around your torso and lifting you into the air in a way that had molten lava coursing through the Heffley's veins, heating up his insides and igniting a fire within; a fire that ached to burn the male adorning a bright, varsity jacket beside you.

His eyes narrowed, teeth grinding over one another and skin losing all hints of previous colour, going as blank as an empty canvas sat aboard an abandoned easel at the sight before him.

That man—Lenwood Heath—oh how Rodrick loathed him; despised the very air he breathed; cursed the very home he inhabited. If the ground you strutted over was worshipped by the aspiring musician, then the ground that Lenwood trudged over was spat on by him.

Oh, how he could just picture it now, wrapping his hands around the neck of that pathetic, little—

"Heffley!"

Rodrick blinked, suddenly able to register the hand waving before his very eyes. "Huh?"

The blurry form in front of him quickly grew clear with a couple more blinks, revealing one of his best friends with a brow raised, lips pulled taut, and a pointed look on his face. "You fazed out staring at her again."

A longing sigh left the lips of the drummer. "Can you blame me, Chris? She's just so... so..."

"Hot?"

"Ethereal," Rodrick smiled, tunnel vision drowning out the dumb teen next to you in favour of only seeing you. "She'll love me one day, I know it."

"Dude—" Chris deadpanned, "—she doesn't even know you exist."

"Uh, yeah she does," responded the other musician, "Of course she knows I exist."

Chris' lips pulled up after that, and—even through his peripheral—Rodrick could see the smugness radiating off his friend's smirk. "Oh yeah? Prove it. Walk over there right now and say hi."

"What do you think this is? Some high school drama? I'm not doing that."

"Alright dude," came the voice of his friend again, taking on a bit of a defeated tone this time, "just tryna help you build up your confidence, that's all."

Rodrick's face scrunched up, now turning to fully face his friend and fellow band member. "My confidence is—"

A light 'ahem' cut through the air.

The Heffley whipped his head to the side—brows furrowing and lips parting in preparation for a sassy speech—when he saw just who exactly was clearing their throat at him.

His breath audibly hitched in his throat, wind getting stuck in his pipe—hindering his ability to respire as his vision flooded with that familiar pink he knew all too well.

"Do you mind?" The question came out your pretty lips with an air of both boredom and your own bit of sass—both fists placed upon your hips as you stared at him pointedly.

Oh, you stared at him—you were staring at him.

Holy shit.

He didn't know what to do; what to say; what to think. His mind was a muddled-up mess with you sat in the middle of it all—in the eye of the storm, occupying your throne within his thoughts while the rest of his head went to shit.

But, the real you, the one stood before him right now, was quickly growing impatient. He could tell from the way you started tapping your foot against the ground in a quick rhythm—one of your cuter habits, he noticed; not that they weren't all cute.

A huff—escaping your lips; exasperated and very much fed-up. He was losing you.

No, no, no, no, no.

His eyes widened, pupils shaking as his breath grew quicker and shorter and sharper. A tightness grew about his chest, contracting his lungs—folding them in on themselves—and tensing his muscles to the point they turned into multiple ropes that unfairly seized him by the throat.

He was panicking, and so—as any panicking person would do—said the first thing that popped into his head—

"Y/N."

—it was your name, of course. That was always at the forefront of his mind.

You scrunched up your nose in that super cute way that you do before speaking again—tone sounding a little... judgemental—"Do I know you?"

A harsh jab to his side and a pair of smug eyes burning a hole through his head followed after that sentence. Annoying.

With a quick glare directed straight at Chris, Rodrick rose his right arm to rub the left—as if to get rid of the lingering buzz of pain left in his friend's wake—before devoting his full attention back to you. "It's uh, Heffley—Rodrick Heffley?"

You narrowed your eyes, staring at him a little incredulously now—but he didn't mind, so long as you were staring at him and not past him, he didn't mind at all. Rodrick was on cloud nine anytime you gave him just an inch of attention, be it good or bad.

Everything about you was just so—

"Wait..." Rodrick blinked—today must've been his lucky day because you were gracious enough to greet him with lit up eyes once you broke through his thoughts. So pretty. "Heffley as in the same Heffley who destroyed Heather Hills' Sweet Sixteen?"

He grimaced a little at the memory, but nodded nonetheless.

Your lips quirked up—by God, please place them on his—

"Y'know, I've been meaning to thank you for that..."

"Thank, uh—thank me?" Dear lord, he could feel his own heartbeat drumming against his ears.

"Yeah, thanks to you, I was able to take Hills' throne." A glint reflected off your beautiful eyes after you said that but Rodrick was too busy admiring your everything to decipher what it was. Was that a new pair of shoes? They suited you.

His eyes snapped back up to your face when a sudden warmth coated both of his shoulders, a familiar hand making its way into his peripheral. "Yup, that's my buddy."

Your eyes briefly left the dark-haired male's form to flit over to his companion, and he found himself grinding his teeth against one another just as he had done before; the pink in his gaze quickly being replaced by a heated crimson.

But, as quick as the overwhelming urge to slam his own friend against the wall came—to rip his very skin off and watch as blood flowed straight out of him—it was gone—just in time for your eyes to return to the Heffley and send another explosion of those pretty, little insects to attack his insides and fill him with so much warmth, he found himself wishing to share it with you—

—God, please let him share it with you.

"Can you move now? I need to get to class."

"Oh, uh, right." He damn-near stumbled over himself in order to make way for you, harshly shoving Chris to the side too—and if he could, he would've rolled out a red carpet for you as well. Your precious feet deserved more than the filthy school floor.

"Ack! Dude!"

Rodrick paid no mind to his friend's scowling form beside him—choosing, instead, to train his gaze onto your figure as it slowly grew smaller the further you walked away.

For a moment, as you brushed passed him, an overwhelming cherry scent flooded his nose, coursing through his innards to roll his eyes towards the back of his head and whisk him up into the air so that he could sit upon a cloud as high as the earth would allow; as high as you would allow.

But, of course, not higher than you—never higher than you.

"She loves me—" Rodrick smiled; dopey and wide, "—I just know it."

"Whatever you say, dude."

'Whatever he says'? No, this was written in the stars. This was the epitome of fate; of destiny woven upon the finest of silks and stored in the most beautiful of halls—indestructible and unalterable.

This was love—true love.

And you knew it too—you must've. Why else would you have approached him the way you had?

And it's because of your reciprocated feelings, that Rodrick felt perfectly fine with leaning forward in his seat next period—right up to the back of your neck—and taking another huge whiff that knocked him straight out of commission.

"The hell are you doing, Heffley?!"

A voice snapped him out of his appreciation time—cruelly ripping him away from his blissful state of basking in your glory and forcing him to look over to his side.

Lenwood.

Rodrick rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat to kick his shoes atop his desk and rest his hands behind his head as he said, "Nothing."

The jock narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing as he parted his lips—gearing up for a threat, no doubt—when another voice cut through the air.

"Something the matter, Mr Heath?"

The jock quickly muttered out a denial before turning to face forward again.

Rodrick smirked.

"Mr Heffley, feet off the table please."

He rose his brows but said nothing, choosing to obey quietly—if only to have the opportunity to stay in the same room as you for just a little while longer.

Speaking of you, the commotion seemed to have caught your attention, because you spun around in your seat, eyes landing solely on his figure for the second time that day.

His breath hitched. It was definitely meant to be.

It stayed like that for a few moments, the two of you just staring at one another as the world dissipated into irrelevance around you. Your beautiful, E/C pools were enough for him to get lost in for hours—just as beguiling as the rest of you was.

Alas, the moment couldn't last forever, and you shattered it with the tug of your lips downwards alongside the cute scrunch of your nose before spinning back around with the elegance of a ballroom dancer.

Ah, he could stare at you all day and never get enough.

He said that already, didn't he? Oh well, it deserved to be reiterated if the subject it was referring to was you.

Today had been a good day—one that he was sure would only end up getting better with the upcoming pep rally in a few periods time. An excuse to devote his entire attention to you without getting weird or judgemental looks? Yes please.

Though, to be entirely honest, he didn't care for those looks. He was too busy hoping, wishing, praying to be the one you woke up next to in the morning; the one whose embrace you cuddled into and found comfort within; the one who'd get to spend the rest of his life with you—

—God, please let him spend the rest of his life with you.

He couldn't help it—staring at you with the intensity he had during your cheer session once the pep rally did come around.

Your lashes fluttered prettily as you peered up at the stands, hands covered by the balls you adorned and lips jutting out in that perfect pout that he just wanted to completely devour—

Ah, his throat was feeling a little dry. Just another effect you had on him.

Unfortunately, he had to part from the stands for a few moments to go grab himself a drink but, for you—his darling pretty girl—he made sure to rush back as soon as he possibly could.

Unfortunately, this speed of his meant that he wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings, and not paying much attention to his surroundings could only lead to one thing: an incident.

The can in his hands slid straight out of his grasp, falling to the ground with a loud 'crash!' as liquid scattered the area, still bubbling and fizzing up even out of its container. A pair of white shoes seeped into brown at the end, and Rodrick found himself trailing the legs adorning them upwards, eyes falling upon a white skirt stained in the same brown that was slathered over the floor.

His gaze kept going upwards, only stopping when they met with an infuriated pair of dazzling eyes narrowed back at him; a familiar, infuriated pair of dazzling eyes.

"Ugh! What the fuck did you do, you freak?! You ruined my outfit! No wonder why Heather fucking hates you!"

No, no, no, no.

He was sorry, he was so sorry. Just don't hate him, please forgive him. God, he didn't know what he'd do with himself if you didn't forgive him.

He wanted to beg for your forgiveness—grovel on his knees and hold onto you like his fucking lifeline—but you were ushered into the toilet by those... friends of yours before he even had the chance, and he was left there, eyes wide as his whole body trembled.

Make it up to you. He had to make it up to you

But how could he when you were constantly surrounded by people who got in his way?—when you both were?

First Lenwood, then his own friend, and now, your friends.

Where could he get you completely and utterly alone?—when it could just be the two of you?

That was when it struck him, and his feet started moving before the cogs in his head even could.

He arrived before you—bathroom trips always took awhile when it came to you and your posse, so he didn't have to worry about you being faster than him.

Setting up wasn't too hard either, he knew where everything was and also learned enough from his dad about women to know how to woo one back into loving you.

All he had to do... was wait for you.

And wait he did. It felt like years had passed as he stood shrouded in darkness, each second as agonising and torturous as the last—if not, more so. But it was worth the wait—you were worth the wait—and soon, the sound of the door opening was accompanied by a loud yell.

"Mom! I'm home!"

Silence.

"Mom?!"

Again. Nothing.

"Fucking—of course."

His lips tugged down, heart practically being pulled on by the words that spilled from your mouth.

Yeah, sure it was convenient that your mom was never home, but he couldn't help the way he cursed the woman who gave birth to such an amazing being but didn't have the heart to properly stick around and bring her up.

But nevermind that, he could hear thuds growing closer to him.

A click. Then a flip. Then—

"What the actual fuck?!"

Rodrick grinned, arms opening wide as his heart picked up in both pace and volume, drumming against his ears like he often would his set in band practice. "Welcome home, sweetheart!"

"Heffley?! What are you doing in my house?!"

Your eyes were wide, pupils shaking as your muscles lost their strength and your bag went tumbling down. Aw, you must've been happy to see him.

"I wanted to apologise," said he, "for earlier."

You blinked, still staring at him with that cute expression sewn onto your face.

For a few moments, nothing was said, and Rodrick found himself lowering his hands to awkwardly clear his throat.

Then, you spoke again, "Heffley, get... get out of my house."

"No."

"No..?"

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this moment?" As he spoke, he started slowly approaching you, and you started slowly backing away.

"Heffley..."

"No need for that anymore, babe." His smile grew wider and his cheeks grew hotter as the wall blocked you from moving any further—allowing the distance between the two of you to grow... shorter. "Just call me Rodrick, or honey, if you'd prefer."

"You're crazy..."

He could feel your breath now, right up against his skin. It was perfect, and only proved to send shivers down his spine. "It's okay, babe, no one's here now. It's just you and me. You can speak your mind without worrying about anyone else. Go on, tell me you love me."

Your features scrunched up at that, teeth grinding against one another as you spat, "I don't love you, psycho."

"Uh, yeah you do." He dismissed your words with a wave. "It's okay to admit you're in love."

"I'm not, you psycho. I barely know you."

Ah, you could be so cruel sometimes.

"Sure you do. You know me just like I know you—" another whiff, "—and how I know this is your favourite scent."

You were shaking much more violently now, body leaning up against the wall for support in a way that made him envy it—all this effort to get to where he was and your wall got more attention than he did? Absolutely not.

He looped an arm around the curve of your waist, basking in the way they fit together as perfectly as puzzle pieces, before pulling you into his chest and taking another deep inhale.

And just like that, you went limp in his arms.

Oh well, at least now he got to carry out his fantasy of being the one that got to wake up next to you.

Omg guys, I acc feel so bad for turning Rodrick into a creep in this, he's such a cutie in the movies.

#yandere #x reader #female reader #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere male x female reader #yandere x you #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #yandere rodrick heffley

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gothicgender · 4 months

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Navigation🕸

Salutations, welcome to my blog. I'm Blake but you can call me blaky or Liu aswell, however you prefer ! To say something about me I use they/them or neutral pronouns and want to become a writer. I may have bad grammar because I'm not english.

Requests - open

Request rules :

I will write for my fandoms because I'm more used to them.

The fandoms I'll write for are Hazbin Hotel, creepypasta, monster high, harry potter and maybe teen titans.

I am comfortable writing fluff, smut, angst, romantic, platonic and other stuff requested...tho I won't write smut that is too freaky or with weird kinks that I'm no comfortable with.

I can write fem, male and gender-neutral reader.

I can write headcanons or small fics about ships I also like because find it more easy then to write a ship I don't see happening or that I personally don't like.

I wouldn't like to be rushed with requests because it can be really stressful !

Do not be afraid to request and be specific with it !

Characters I will write for !

Hazbin hotel :

Chalie

Vaggie

Alastor

Angel Dust

Husk

Sir Pentious

Cherry Bomb

Rosie

The overlords (expect Valentino)

Lucifer

Lute

Adam (probably)

Mimzy (probably)

Katie Killjoy

Tom Trench

Ships I accept :

Charlie x Vaggie

Husk x Angel Dust

Valentino x Velvette x Vox (I believe they are poly)

Sir Pentious x Cherri Bomb

Carmila and Zestrial

Creepypasta :

Jeff the killer

Ben Drowned

Homicidal Liu

Bloody Painter

Ticci-Toby (probably)

Jason the toymaker

Candy Pop

Eyeless Jack

Hobo Heart

The puppeteer (maybe)

Kagekao

Laughing Jack

Nathan the nobody

Jane the Killer

Nina the killer (both versions)

Rogue

Kate the chaser

Nurse Ann

Suicide Sadie

Judge Angels

Clockwork

Zero

Lulu

Laughing Jill

Nemesis

Ships I accept :

Jane the killer x Mary (her canon wife)

Kagekao x Suicide Sadie

Bloody Painter x Judge Angels

Nurse Ann x Dr. Smiley

(other you can suggest)

Monster high (gen 1 or 2) :

Clawdeen Wolf

Draculaura Vike

Frankie Stein

Cleo de Nile

Lagoona Blue

Ghoulia Yelps

Abby Bominable

Jinafire Long

Iris Clops

Operetta

Robecca Steam

Rochelle Goyle

Scarah Screams

Skelita Calaveras

Spectra Vondergeist

Toralei Stripe

Purrsephone and Meowlody

Twyla Boogeyman

Venus McFlytrap

Marisol Coxi

C.A. Cupid

Casta Fierce

Elissabat

Clawdia Wolf

Viperine Gorgon

Deuce Gorgon

Clawd Wolf

Heath Burns

Holt Hyde

Invisi Billie

Jackson Jekyll

Neighthan Rot

Garrot du Roque

Kieran Valentine

Manny Taur

Ships I accept :

Clawdeen x Draculaura

Clawd x Draculaura

Cleo x Deuce

Abby x Heath

Ghoulia x Sloman

Frankie x Jackson

Spectra x Porter

Rochelle x Garrot

Scarah x Billie

Iris x Manny

Harry Potter :

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Hermione Granger

Fred and George Weasley

Percy Weasley

Alicia Spinnet

Lavender Brown

Parvati Patil

Dean Thomas

Neville Longbottom

Ginny Weasley

Lee Jordan

Angelina Johnson

Blaise Zabini

Pansy Parkinson

Tom Riddle

Theodore Nott

Daphne Greenglass

Millicent Bulstrode

Cho Chang

Padma Patil

Luna Lovegood

Marietta Edgecombe

Penelope Clearwater

Michael Corner

Hannah Abbott

Susan Bones

Cedric Diggory

Ships I accept :

Harry x Ginny

Ron x Hermione

Neville x Luna

Molly x Arthur Weasley

Bill x Fleur

Draco x Astoria

Angelina x Alicia

Teen Titans :

Robin (Dick Grayson)

Starfire

Raven

Beast Boy

Cyborg

Bumblebee

Blackfire

Terra

Madame Rogue

Chesire

Punk Rocket

Ships I accept :

Robin x Starfire

Raven x Beast Boy

Jinx x Kid Flash

This is all so far ! Thank you for visiting my page.

#hazbin hotel #creepypasta #harry potter #monster high #teen titans #writing

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zodiyack · 4 years

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Kiwi

Requested by @simonsbluee: hi! can i request a Tommy Shelby story that’s based off the song Kiwi by Harry Styles? all good if you can’t :)

Pairing: Thomas ‘Tommy’ Shelby x Female!Reader

Warnings: Lyrics, angst, swearing, indications to smut

Song: Kiwi by Harry Styles

Words: 1,216

Summary: (See Request?)

Note: I had no idea what on earth to do for this so my apologies and also, fun-fact, I thought I remembered what kiwi was until I listened to it when I started writing and then had to pause and check what song it was- 😅

Edit: After having a friend proof-read it for me and getting their “go-ahead” to post this, I’ve decided to listen to them rather than sit and cringe at myself so uh... Here ya goooo

Key: Bold + Italic = Lyrics | Italic = Memories and sometimes emphasis

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @peakyxtommy, @cai-neki, @simonsbluee, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @peakysputain, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @marquelapage, @jenepleurepasbaby, @thewarriorprincessxo, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Cillian Murphy Masterlist

She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes, Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect. And all the boys, they were saying they were into it. Such a pretty face, on a pretty neck

Anyone could spot her in the Garrison, even if they had no clue who she was. Her outer demeanor was intimidating, with or without her husband. Y/n Shelby was one of the most feared yet yearned for woman in Small Heath, side by side on the list with her aunt-in-law, Polly Gray. No one dared act a fool when she was around. Then of course, that depended on their definition of the cringe-eliciting behavior.

Men constantly tried their luck with her. Easy to spot, she sat at a table in the middle of the bar with a cigarette in her hand and a glass in front of her as she conversed with her husband’s brothers. Every time a man came around, she shot them down without hesitation. This time no different.

“Are you without partner, miss?” A male on the younger side asked with a warm yet shy grin.

“Are you without brain, sir?” Her response was serious but held slight sarcasm. Everyone who knew of the blinders knew she was married to one of the many people they didn’t want to mess with. Insulting the poor man was far better than having his eyesight removed.

“N-no?”

“Hm, quite a surprise.” She looked down to her cigarette before flicking her eyes back up to the man. “Nevertheless, a man without brain nor eyes is the same as a man with brain and no eyes.”

The quiver in his voice almost made her feel bad for the quips she’d spat. But alas, it was only almost. “What...what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means yes, I do indeed have a partner.” The brothers around her chuckled and mocked the now cowering man, Y/n herself giving an amused smile and taking a drag of the stick between her fingers.

Tommy stood behind the man, looking at him with a blank expression once he’d turned around after backing into him. He lifted a brow, not once breaking eye contact. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she.”

The man trembled, confused. “Y-yeah-” He stuttered as he shook with embarrassment.

“Her body, face, lips... Smart one too... She’s perfect. Too bad she’s spoken for.” Tommy muttered before walking over and sliding into the seat next to her. Y/n took the cigarette from her mouth and placed it between Tommy’s soft lips, lifting her eyes to his as she watched him endearingly.

Only one man could make the infamously feared woman smile in such an angelic manner. One man and one man only. His name, Thomas Michael Shelby.

She's driving me crazy, but I'm into it, but I'm into it, I'm kind of into it, It's getting crazy, I think I'm losing it, I think I'm losing it, Oh I think she said "I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your, it's none of your"

In hindsight, Tommy should’ve listened to his aunt’s words of wisdom. She’d told him love is crazy and makes you crazy, even Y/n mentioned it a multitude of times. Being together was only half the happy ending. Driving each other up the walls, it only drew them closer. Y/n, Tommy’s better half and Tommy, Y/n’s.

Love really did have an impact similar to the legend shrouding it’s definition. And they loved love for it.

But then the darker side of Tommy’s occupation found time to object every good thing his life had to offer. Although it didn’t tear a hole in the romance, it knocked it into a spiral that was supposed to register it as perfectly normal, sane, and very boring.

However, it hadn’t done anything large than strike a little worry into their hearts. What their enemy forgot was that nothing involving the Peaky Blinders was “normal” or “casual”, especially not boring.

It's New York, baby, always jacked up, Whole tunnels, foreign noses always backed up. When she's alone, she goes home to a cactus, In a black dress, she's such a such an actress

She's driving me crazy, but I'm into it, but I'm into it, I'm kind of into it, It's getting crazy, I think I'm losing it, I think I'm losing it. Oh I think she said "I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

Tommy sent Y/n with his brothers and sister while he took care of things at home. He remembered holding her in his arms with a sincere apologetic but loving look in his blue orbs. The smell of her lingered on his collar. She refused to let go of him until John shouted that the train would be leaving without her had she stayed put.

“Wipe your eyes, my love. I’m not worth the tears-”

The sound of her palm coming into contact with his skin made Ada jump with a shriek from beside her other brothers. “Thomas Michael Shelby, don’t you dare fucking say that. That is...that is... It’s bullshit!” Tommy chuckled softly. Y/n couldn’t help but join in, “Stop laughing at me, you fucking- fucking bloody handsome asshole.”

“Alright alright... Promise me you won’t cry...at least, not anymore than you already have. For if you cry, it’ll break my heart and then I fear I won’t have the heart to see you off.”

“Tommy Shelby? Not having a heart? Are you sure me crying will be the cause in this scenario?” She jabbed with a giggle.

“Say what you’d like, Y/n, but my word remains true.” He pulled her closer and their lips collided. There, only for a moment, it felt like time had stopped just for them. “Go with them, stay safe and hidden, always carry your gun, and only have close friends deliver messages. They’re fucking listening on the telephones...”

It was the same things he’d said since they’d started planning this. Always with the essentials that probably really had no purpose to be labeled as essential, plus the minor setbacks that were more than likely never to happen.

Tommy was paranoid, but she couldn’t blame him. Thinking ahead and being prepared for the worst was better than not doing so and dealing with the consequences of unwanted surprise.

“I know. We’ve been over it a thousand times or more, Thomas. I’ll be fine,” she held his face in her hands as she took him in for the final time before her journey, “I promise.”

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your, it's none of your"

She sits beside me like a silhouette, Hard candy dripping on me 'til my feet are wet, And now she's all over me, it's like I paid for it, It's like I paid for it, I'm gonna pay for this

Their lips crashed together and thus began their dance. Practically made for each other, everything of Y/n fit perfectly with everything of Tommy. Their lips, bodies, personalities, everything. A rough performance, full of passion and lust, was regularly preformed after long days, trips, or times that didn’t cause the couple to be apart for agonizingly long periods of time, sometimes death-run-ins were audience enough for their show to sell.

Tommy refused to wait for words or sighs of relief. He would let her know verbally in the morning, if he was done with her by then. Thomas felt at ease once she was back in his arms, like the piece of himself that had been missing for far too long was finally where it needed to be.

If Y/n was to deny her liking of Tommy’s pleasant surprise, she’d be a liar.

Rarely did Y/n become the one in charge, so when she was handed the reigns, she didn’t miss a beat before getting into character. She was always his “right-hand-man” and now she had the chance to show that she was much more than the simple role.

By the end of the night, both had their fun and chance to participate as the leader to their waltz. Heavy breaths and messy exteriors, the two had shown each other the burning passion they held for each other that never died out. Tom swore to himself never to send his wife away unless her life absolutely depended on it.

It's none of your, it's none of your

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

The night she sleepily entered their home for the first time since they’d parted ways at the train station, he’d given her passion. He’d given her all of him. He’d given her his control. He’d given her all the love he had. He gave her his child.

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader insert #song fic #harry styles #kiwi #kiwi by harry styles #harry styles kiwi #x reader #reader insert #all readers #zodiyack

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pyox1 · 4 years

Text

Backroom - Na Jaemin

Genre : smut in a work office, cocky Jaemin and pissed off manager Renjun

Pairing : Na Jaemin x reader

Word count : 1,8k

The title is pretty self explanatory... Hope you all like it! Feedback is always appreciated:)

Sitting on a stool next to a cash register, you tried resisting the urge of grabbing your cellphone to scroll aimlessly on Instagram.

Your shift halfway done, the seconds were passing at an excruciatingly slow pace. The store was desert, except for one tenacious client that kept clinging onto your coworker, Jaemin. You rolled your eyes. As if she was here to buy anything

"Oh yeah, those shoes fit you amazingly. You look good in them." The boy complimented with a cheeky smile. Hearing endearing compliment or even suggestive comments coming from the charming worker wasn't that unusual. Usually, he only had to smile and wink, and his sales doubled.

"Really?" She batted her eyelashes while pushing her hair back, her lips tugging upwards.

You had to hold back your vomit as Jaemin flirted shamelessly with a client, while you sat behind the register. You ignored if he was aware that she probably wasn't here to make a purchase, but more to eye fuck him. Shaking your head, you couldn't help but be annoyed. Oh, how he would do anything to have good sales.

"Mmmh, but you know what?" He approached her, his voice lowering. "I think you'd look better with them off. Plus maybe a couple of other items of clothing." Upon hearing his words, your mouth fell open. What the hell was this? For a second you wondered if you were at a shoe store, and not on a set, shooting a shitty porn intro. You couldn't grasp the concept of someone being as cocky as your coworker.

The girl became a flush mess, blabbering back an answer that you couldn't quite hear. You huffed, crossing your arms, before advertising your gaze towards the clock on the wall next to you. Only 4 hours left. This was going to be easy. Only a couple hours more to endure Jaemin being ogled by girls. God, usually he would serve the client, no fuss or funny business added, but you guessed the lack of aircon in the store had affected his brain in a more damaging way than you had thought.

The pair were now giggling like school girls while whispering in each other's ears. You tried concentrating on the ticking object reminding you that you wouldn't have to deal with them in a few hours, but your mind kept getting interrupted by their laughs.

You didn't know what was more aggravating; the girl playfully punching Jaemin, or the fact that he was leading her own. What did she have that you didn't? You had always been respectful and thoughtful with the boy, sometimes offering to switch your shifts with his to his advantage. The conversation flowed naturally between the two of you and you had a few points in common. You also didn't consider yourself to be unattractive, so what was missing? Why weren't you the girl at the receiving end of Jaemin's sultry comments?

Oh no. You were getting lost in your thoughts again.

Damn this store for its annoying customers and its hot weather. And its hot male employees.

"(Y/n)!" Your other coworker Renjun screamed, walking through the rack of pumps with shoeboxes under his arms. "You're up for a break." You peaked up at the mention of a chance to get away from the cringy scene unfolding right under your nose.

"You're such a savior Jun, thank you." You got up, flattening your work vest.

"Yeah yeah... You have fifteen minutes. One more minute and you can be sure it'll be off your paycheck." The brown-haired boy joked.

"Legally I've got thirty minutes, you punk."

"I dare you to call your manager a punk once again." You rolled your eyes, flipping off the boy, who also happened to be your best friend.

"Bite me." You said teasingly. He laughed approaching you so that no one else could hear what he was about to say.

"I feel like mister googly eyes over there wouldn't say no to that offer." Your attention shifted to what he was referring to, your eyes locking with Jaemin's. You saw his jaw clenching, his eyes shooting daggers at Renjun's back. A nervous laugh escaped your mouth.

"Shut up, I'll be back in fifteen." You almost ran into a shoe rack trying to get to the back, your attention glued to the floor. In no way, you wanted to lock eyes with Jaemin again. You hid in the office, afraid to face anyone with red fiery cheeks. It might be best if you spent the rest of your shift away from prying eyes. You could try convincing Renjun to let you organize the rest of the inventory, but you were afraid that he'd find it too suspicious since you hated organizing boxes with a passion. You had to try, even if he wouldn't buy it.

Just as you were about to exit the office, the door flung open, revealing a fidgety looking Jaemin.

"Oh- Hm, (y/n), hey, I was looking for a specific pair..." His teeth bit his bottom lip. You held your breath, his body way too close to you then necessary but none of you took a step back. If anything, you wanted to be even closer.

"Bullshit, why would you be looking for shoes in the office." That had seemed to shut him off. You had just caught him in a lie.

"I saw you talking with Renjun."

"Okay, and?"

"Well, you two seemed pretty touchy... I just wanted to get on with the gossip, that's all." He smirked. You couldn't believe him.

"Funny coming from the guy that was practically making a girl drool over him on the job." You pocked at finger at his chest accusingly. Jaemin clicked his tongue, annoyed.

"At least I'm not flirting with the manager to get a raise." He shot back.

"I can't believe you, he's my best friend."

"Maybe you should tell him then. He doesn't seem very aware that you're only friends." He continued. You scoffed, taken aback. You had no idea what kind of spirit was possessing him right now. You wondered where he had gotten the balls to speak to you like that.

"You should get back to work, I'd like to enjoy the ten minutes left to my break. Thanks." As you were about to push him away, his hands grabbed your upper arms, enabling you to touch him.

"Either I come in for the next ten minutes or I leave and we never talk about this encounter again." He stared at you with a straight face. You hated yourself for even considering his offer, but you had to think about it in a rational way. He had just given you the easiest dilemma ever. You were going to tell him to leave, and then everything would be back to normal. Easy.

"Okay, but we have to be quick. Lock the door behind you." Jaemin's smirked again, pushing you in and closing the door. Not even a second later, his hands were all over you, as well as his lips. You sighed as his fingers slipped under your shirt, his touch hot against your cold skin. His fingertips digging into your flesh, he pulled you flush to his body.

"Couch." He directed. You both made your way to the shitty leather couch in the corner of the room, his lips not leaving your neck. You laid down on the torn fabric sofa. It's box springs dug into your back, but it would have to do for now. Jaemin joined you on the couch, his body hovering over yours. You eagerly pushed your lips to his, earning a grunt from him.

"Can I take your belt off?" You asked, your hands already playing with the hem of his pants.

"Fuck, I'm not the one who's going to stop you." You smiled, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down. Your hand sliding under his boxer, you palmed his growing member.

"Shit," He let out, eyes squeezed shut. You squeezed his shaft, starting to slowly move your wrist up and down. "I can't believe we're doing this at work." You giggled as he tried to suppress his moans. You sped up your movements while kissing his jawline, occasionally biting a specific spot on his neck that made him squirm.

"You're so sensitive," You teased. "Cute." His eyes shot open, an eyebrow quirked up. One of his hands left your waist to lightly touch your crotch, earning a desperate whimper from you.

"And I'm the sensitive one. Tsk, tsk, tsk." He continued groping you, while you sloppily tried to finish your job. You suddenly felt his fingers sneak beneath your shorts, his fingers coming in contact with you pulsing heath. "Let's try not to make a mess, mh?" You nodded quickly before you felt one of his digits entering you.

For the next minutes, moans and swears resonated through the office, only adding to the steam of the action. Jaemin's head was pressed into your neck, his hair sticking out in every direction possible while you whined, his thumb doing wonders on your clit. You felt his member twitch in your hold. The both of you were about to come until an urgent pounding came from the door.

"Open this door, right now!" Renjun's voice was loud enough for the two of you to automatically jump up. You tried taming your hair while Jaemin almost fell pulling his pants up. Running to the door, the sweaty boy followed in on your footsteps. You both tried to look as normal as possible, not wanting to face your manager looking like you just went at it in the break room. You took a deep breath before unlocking the door and opening it quickly.

Renjun's suspicious stare stayed on you before giving Jaemin an up and down. Looking next to you, the tall boy was finishing buckling his belt, a shit-eating grin on his face. You gasped when you saw all the hickeys that had just appeared on his neck.

"You guys are fucking disgusting." the brown-haired boy snarled with a face of disgust. You were mortified that your best friend AND manager had just caught you red-handed.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry-" You went to put your hand on his shoulder but he quickly dodged it.

"I don't care- just, don't touch me until you wash your hands," Jaemin laughed at that. "and for your information, I hope you're aware that there are cameras all over the store. Including the office. So next time, please spare me the horrifying vision of the both of you hooking up on the couch I eat my lunch on." You burned in embarrassment as Renjun left to go attend to some clients as if this was the most normal situation ever.

"You heard that, (Y/n)? He was hinting to a next time."

"Shut up."

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Male changeling fae x female reader (sfw) - Part One

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

As I said to my patrons, I'm still sorry I took so much time off in March, but I really needed it for all sorts of reasons I won’t go into on here. I hope this will appease you though! It's 4769 words of fluff with a slight dash of angst thrown in, and with a Part Two on the way. I dropped one or two hints as to where it's going, so it'll be interesting to see who picks up on that...

As usual with me, the reader's gender or body isn't really mentioned much, except in a passing comment, so I hope it's not too offputting to have a specifically female reader again.

This was up on Patreon on early release last week for my Pixies and Goblins, and is now up on here for you.

Content: female reader, (past) death of father, (past) ill mother, changeling, memories, nostalgia, realising that the fairytale stuff is true... Wordcount: 4769

The cabin was in far better condition than you’d been expecting, given that it had been well over a decade since you’d last seen it. Dank and a little musty, it was now tidy in a way that it never would have been when your father had lived there. Of course, all of the things that had made it your father’s home, plus all his tracking and hiking equipment, had long been removed, either by your uncle or by the local park service, but the cabin technically belonged to you according to his will. You’d never made so much as a spare moment to come back up here, fearing that the return would bring back a wash of memories that would be too powerful to withstand.

You almost laughed to yourself as you stood in the doorway of the old wooden hut, the creaky front door knocking gently against the wall in the soft breezes that seemed to slink curiously in like a house cat returning from a day’s hunt. You could hear your boss’ voice in your head again; “If you don’t take some holiday, I’m going to fire you.”

“You wouldn’t!” you’d blurted, completely missing the glittering, playful light in his eyes.

The vet had snorted and shaken his head, taking his gloves off and making his preparations to leave the surgery at the end of his long day. “Of course I wouldn’t fire you, but I am serious about you taking some time off. Didn’t you say your dad used to have a cabin up country?”

“Mm,” you nodded, not really listening, the scents of pine and mossy rocks already flashing with startling clarity across your mind. “It’s more of a bothy in the woods, but yeah.”

“Then go there. You need some time off. You haven’t taken any holiday in over a year.”

Just like that, you’d mused; just ‘go there’.

It had been so long since you’d been unexpectedly packed off back to the city that long, hot summer. What had followed had been endless months of hospital visits and uncertainty, living with your maternal grandmother while your mother fought her illness with dogged determination. As you shoved those memories aside, a wave of fresh ones surged in to replace them. Images skittered falteringly across your memory of a barefoot young boy about your own age, with sun-freckled skin and dusky brown hair. Piercingly blue eyes the colour of a midday summer sky blinked from the recesses of your memory.

“Dunnock,” you murmured aloud in the perfect stillness of the cabin. You'd never forgotten your summer holiday friend. Year after year when you’d gone to stay with your father, Dunnock had been there, with grubby knees and a ready smile.

That little boy’s laughter among the evergreens; bare feet that hadn’t seemed out of place on the carpet of rusty pine needles; a playmate all summer long while your father watched from the porch of the cabin, coffee cradled in his hands, muscular forearms arms resting on the wood and watching you with his steady, patient gaze.

All of that had vanished in a single summer, to be replaced with city life, school, exams, college, study, work, rent… Your mother had survived her illness, but you’d never returned to the cabin before your father’s death some years later.

“Dunnock,” you repeated, looking around at the bare wooden walls and the simple wooden bed in one corner. “I wonder what happened to you?” After a pause you added, “Or who you even were…” You’d been so caught up in the moment, in seeking frogspawn and catching moths, that you’d never spoken about his family or his life outside of your play hours.

Somehow none of it had never seemed strange to the eight year old girl that you had been then. Wiry, ‘boyish’ - whatever that meant - with nondescript hair and an ordinary face, you had felt instantly at home in the trees with that little boy’s rough, grubby hand around yours. It had felt like the most natural thing in the world to let him tug you into the forest that bordered the heathland to show you the worms in the muddy dell or the deer fauns staggering on spindly legs in the glens where the bracken glowed translucent in rare shafts of sunlight.

“Dunnock,” you murmured one last time, and it felt like a charm, a chant, an invocation, calling up the sight of his wild greyish brown hair shivering as he laughed, tossing his head back, careless and wild as the bird after which he was named. You seemed to recall that you had actually been the one to name him that, after seeing the tiny little hedgerow birds with the same colouring, darting about near the cabin on the feeder that you had helped your father build the summer before. He had accepted it without question, and you’d never called him anything else.

With a sigh, you dumped your weekend bag down on the smooth floorboards and went back to the car to fetch the bag of groceries you’d picked up from the nearby hamlet of Iska’s Well. Unbidden yet again, you heard Dunnock’s voice, full of laughter, telling you that ‘iska’ was the ‘old world’ word for water in these parts, whatever that meant. Everywhere you turned, the whole place was saturated with memories of him - more so than of even your father.

“That’s stupid,” you’d huffed at Dunnock when he’d told you the origins of the hamlet’s name. “‘Water’s Well’? That’s a stupid name for a town.” Dunnock had only laughed and dragged you off to poke and poggle at frogspawn in the dewpond on the heath that began about a mile from the cabin.

You’d driven over the heath that afternoon to reach Iska’s Well, with blushing heather and stoic, rocky bluffs, and had marvelled at how short the journey had seemed this time. As a child, it had seemed like a journey to the edges of the world, with the sandy tracks and purple heather rushing past in an endless blur while the radio played softly in the background and your father’s curly hair lifted off his forehead in the breeze from the open window.

With everything finally settled, and your sleeping bag unfurled onto the surprisingly healthy looking mattress that definitely should have gone mouldy after all this time, you turned your attention to the heavy cast iron stove in the corner. No dust had gathered on the surfaces, and there was a stack of fresh, dry firewood piled up beside the stove.

Was someone living here? When you’d asked about the cabin in the quaint village shop, the owner had laughed and told you how good it was that someone would be staying there again, and that as the former ranger’s daughter, you were only to ask at the shop if there was anything you needed. “We pull together in this little community, and if there’s a leak in that roof, or if something isn’t working, you just come back here and someone will come up and help you, alright?”

You’d laughed gratefully and nodded, glimpsing a flyer on the wall for the spring equinox festival on a noticeboard as you left. ‘Bonfire, live folk music, hog roast, and dancing - experience the magic beneath the moon…’ seemed surprisingly appealing to you and you made a note of the time. It was only a few days away.

Wondering whether you should start a fire in the burner now so that the cabin would warm up enough, and the last of the lingering damp burn away before bed, you frowned. Was someone squatting here then? Panic flared, white hot and suddenly all-consuming, and you whipped around, as though expecting some wild figure to come stumping up the stairs into the cabin and savage you.

But all you heard was the soft, hushing whisper of the wind in the pine needles outside and the alarm call of a jay in the trees.

As the sound of the bird’s fear refused to die away, your scowl deepened. The harsh, scraping calls filled the trees and you edged out of the door and onto the small, covered porch of the wooden hut, heart hammering in time with the desperate calls.

Nothing moved between the trees and there was not a breath of air between the trunks. It seemed as though the whole forest was holding its breath. Something about the depth of the shadows called invitingly to you and your unease melted away with each step you took into the once-familiar pine forest.

After perhaps fifty paces, you caught a flash of bright blue in the branches above and watched as a jay bobbed desperately, hopping from one branch to another and squawking constantly. “What is it?” you asked, feeling suddenly foolish.

As if in answer, the bird took off with another volley of calls, flitting along the deer track that you’d been following, before dipping low in its flight pattern and vanishing behind a larger pine with another flash of blue feathers.

“What am I doing…?” you muttered, on the point of turning back. Then you heard it.

A low, pained rumbling shivered out between the sussurating foliage.

Your body went still and rigid as you heard it again, and you barely dared breathe. “What the…?”

Sadly, you’d heard plenty of animals in pain at the surgery where you worked, but there was something unusual about this; the apparent size of the creature for one. As you nibbled your lip, torn between hurrying to investigate and turning on the spot and calling the national park service, you heard it again; a whining growl carried the depth of its agony and torment straight to your chest, and you acted instantly, instinctively.

Rounding the corner of the tiny trail where the jay bird had disappeared, you found the source of the noise, and nearly bolted on the spot as adrenaline surged through your body once again. A dark creature as large as a bear lay on its side with a hind leg caught in the glinting metal jaws of a vicious steel trap. Beside it, the jay was hopping on the ground and fluttering its wings, the pale down of its belly flashing in the dimness of the forest.

The creature which lay on its side, however, was not a bear. Your brain helpfully supplied that there were no bears in these parts anyway. It didn’t make processing what you were seeing any easier, however.

Tall and, upon closer inspection, surprisingly slender, with lean, well-defined muscles evident beneath the thick, matted, dusty-black pelt, it was like nothing you’d ever seen. Its eyes were closed, but you got the distinct and primeval impression that it had sensed you. For one, it had fallen silent, save for the wheezing huff of its breath. It was exhausted then, and had clearly been struggling to release its leg from the trap, if the scuffed earth and blood-slickened needles around the vile device were anything to go by.

Its head had elements of both a wolf and a bear. While a long, deadly snout and powerful jaws decorated with savagely long canines marked it as a predator, its ears were like those of a deer, tufted with ash-grey fur. Its pelt was thick and shaggy, the colour of slate or smoke, and matted with moss and tangles and, on its lower leg, thick, black blood. Its hind legs were short, stocky like those of a bear, but the paws were more like those of a wolf, its forelegs had a strangely… human conformation to them, with large, hand-like paws that ended in the thick, deadly claws of a bear.

“Easy,” you whispered, shuffling experimentally closer. “I won’t hurt you…”

The moment it heard your voice, the creature’s eyes flickered open and you sucked in an astonished breath, reeling back. The searing blue of those eyes was a hue that you’d never forget.

“Impossible,” you breathed, wondering if you’d inhaled some hallucinogenic compound from a mushroom or something. This simply couldn’t be…

The creature let out a long, deep, excruciatingly heartfelt whine, ribs heaving, and it lifted that strange, shaggy head to look dolorously at the steel trap before weakness washed over it and it let its head fall back to the leaf litter beneath.

“Can… you understand me?” you asked before you’d really thought about how stupid your question was. The intelligence that you’d glimpsed in those eyes had told you as much already, improbable as this all seemed.

The enormous creature huffed softly and twitched its muzzle downwards.

“You can?”

It repeated the gesture.

“If I let you out of this, you promise you won’t hurt me?”

Once again, it nodded and you closed the distance between you to kneel beside the trap.

“Ok. Here goes. This… This is probably going to hurt. I’ll try my best, but…”

Another little chuff emanated from its barrel chest, which you took to be a reassuring noise of encouragement, and you got to work.

“Who the fuck sets traps round here anyway?” you snarled, cold steel beneath your fingers. “This is a national park. Hunting is forbidden, and it’s not like there are even bears here anyway! Well…” As you released the mechanism and carefully cranked it back, you looked up at the strange creature which it had ensnared, and shrugged, “Right?”

“Mmph.” The noise the creature made was almost like speech as it agreed with you, lifting its hind leg out of the jaws of the trap and letting it flop to the ground with another rumbling whine.

“There,” you said, securing and making the trap safe before sitting back on your heels and staring at the unbelievable being in front of you. After taking some steadying breaths, with your gaze all the while fixed on those intensely blue eyes, you found something intimately familiar about the set of those features, the tilt of its head and the slow blink that didn’t quite sync up. “I know you,” you finally breathed.

The creature continued to stare at you, but after a few more pounding heartbeats, it lowered its dark muzzle slightly and gave the slightest, almost imperceptible nod.

“It… It’s not possible… You can’t be who I think you are though…” you said, your mind refusing to accept the blindingly obvious truth.

Blink.

One ear flicked slightly.

“Can you?”

Blink.

Slow nod.

“No way…” You sat breathing for a little while longer before daring to voice it aloud. “Dunnock?”

The nod this time was so barely-there that you almost missed it.

“I don’t understand…” you hissed, levering yourself to your feet, staggering slightly, and gazing down at the injured creature. “The ‘Dunnock’ that I remember was a little boy…” your words sputtered out and you swallowed thickly. “Can you talk?”

The creature licked his lips with a surprisingly delicate, pink tongue and nodded, blinking slowly. “Yes,” he rasped, voice deep and rough with obvious disuse. “But it… has been a… long time.”

“How are you… this?” you asked, gesturing at his body. Before he could answer, your attention darted back to his leg. “I should probably tend to that,” you added.

He shook his head, retracting his leg away from you. “No, it will heal soon. Now that the iron is gone.”

“Iron?”

“Mm.”

He seemed so subdued, so altered from the happy child you remembered that, had it not been for those astonishing eyes, you would never have believed that he could have become this. “What difference does the iron make?” you asked instead.

Dunnock lifted his head slowly and studied you. “You never knew, did you?” he murmured.

“Knew what?”

With a huff that might have been an amused chuckle, he said simply, “Changeling…”

“Changeling?” you asked, frowning, mind spinning. “Like… Like in the fairy tales?”

“Literally,” he said. “I am fae. They left me here to die when they stole a human child in my place. Iron… Iron is like a poison. But it will heal now.”

Your mind reeled, the barrage of revelations leaving you dizzy and sick. “Wait… Stop… What?” you faltered. “They left you here to die? Your own parents?”

“Mn.”

With a blank, spinning mind, all you could do was croak, “Dunnock… I…” Suddenly it was all too much. You’d come here to get away, to rest, to reconnect with nature, not to discover that fairy tales were true. Looking back on it, you probably should have known that there was something abnormal about a young boy being allowed to roam the forests, barefoot night and day, but it had never really crossed your mind.

“Did my father know about you?” you asked in a hoarse croak.

“Mm. He helped me in the winter. He was a good man.” After a short pause, Dunnock sat up, bracing his weight on his forelegs while his hind legs remained splayed to one side. He looked like a lounging hound - domestic, almost tame - rather than a wildly impossible being from folklore.

A moment or two of silence hung between you before he shifted again, drawing his legs under him and heaving himself to his feet. One huge, clawed hand rested on the rough bark of a nearby conifer to prop himself up as he stood unsteadily, keeping the weight off his injured leg. You inhaled slowly, eyes widening. He must have been easily eight foot tall. He extended his free hand towards you as you swayed, and you stared at it. His touch never connected with you and he curled his fingers self-consciously inwards to hide the talons, and then dropped his hand back to his side.

“Steady,” he said with a gentle smile. “Must be a shock…”

“I don’t understand,” you bleated pathetically. “What happened to you? You used to look… human…”

With a hollow chuckle, he looked away from you. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I could always change into this. Never did it around you. But… as I grew older, the shift to human became… harder. Now I can only shift on the full moon.”

Snorting, you said, “Like the opposite of a werewolf.”

He didn’t reply, but he did turn his blue eyes back to your face. “It’s been so long,” he murmured. “I… I never thought I’d see you again. And then…” his gaze dropped to the trap still glinting innocently at a distance and he growled, the rumble of it echoing in your ribcage. “Just when I thought I’d never get out…” those eyes darted back up to meet yours, “You’re here.”

“Like fate,” you breathed awkwardly. “You want to come back to the cabin and rest?”

Something complicated passed over his face but eventually he nodded. “Alright.”

Just as you set off, you paused and looked back over your shoulder at him. “Was it you who’s been caring for the place?”

“Mn,” he grunted, leaning heavily on the next tree along. Perhaps you shouldn’t have encouraged him to move so soon, but he seemed to be doing alright. Dropping down to all fours, he nodded up the track and said, “Go ahead. I’ll be… right behind you.”

His footfalls were heavy and deliberate; a solid presence on the path while your mind reeled with the revelation that Dunnock, the lively, lanky boy, bright as a buttercup with a face full of freckles, with whom you’d played in these very woods as a child, was now some monstrous-looking beast, and in fact had been that all along…? You shook your head as if clearing stars from your vision, and pressed forward through the shadows until the cabin came back into sight, with your car just visible in the distance.

It all seemed so painfully normal up ahead, but when you turned around to glance behind, there, faltering almost shyly at the edge of the trees, was the strange, half-bear half-wolf creature with Dunnock’s eyes. A quiet, private thrill of panic shot through you and you turned and stared back at him. “Dunnock?” you asked in a voice that sounded steadier than you felt.

He paused with one front paw hovering gently, just on the point of being set down onto the soft carpet of needles. “Mn?” His doe-like ears flicked and his head tilted. He seemed to be making himself as small as possible for you as you stared him down like a stag in a meadow.

You had to make sure that it really was him though, and not some creature pretending, with a pair of stolen eyes and a deep, lullingly gentle voice. “Tell me something…”

With another vaguely canine tilt of his head, he grunted. “Mn?”

“Do you remember what the last thing was that you said to me?”

He froze and then looked away. The answer he gave was almost too soft to hear, but you just barely caught his response. “I’ll always be here. You’re like the moon, and I’ll always feel the pull of you…”

Water blurred your vision, and without much warning, you burst into tears. “It really is you, isn’t it?” you sobbed, striding back over to him and flinging your arms around his neck.

Dunnock went stiff with surprise, but quickly relaxed. A heartbeat later, his heavy arms enclosed your body and he tugged you close to his chest as he sat back on his haunches. “Yeah,” he croaked. “It’s me.” And then he added, “I missed you so much.”

“I thought about you a lot,” you sniffled, tears still rolling down your cheeks and into his thick fur. He smelled like moss and petrichor, and you clung to him as all the stress of your job and the frenetic strain of the city bled out of you in a disorientating rush.

With a huge hand caressing your back with the hesitancy of the inordinately strong, he rumbled something that you didn’t quite catch, and then leaned back a little. “Why did you come back?” he asked.

You snorted and stepped back, swiping at your face with your cuff and turning a little away from him, embarrassed by the outpouring of emotion that seemed to have come from nowhere. “My boss told me I needed a holiday.”

“And so you came here?”

“Yeah. I think I needed to come back, you know? Put old ghosts to rest,” you added as you stared at your father’s cabin. “Come on. Let’s get inside.” As you set off for the cabin again, you asked, “Do the locals know about you then?”

When he didn't immediately speak, you looked back and saw him shaking his head. “No,” he said. “I go into the village once a month or so - when I can turn human - sometimes not even that often. They know of me, and I think they know I live in the woods nearby, but they don’t know that I’m… this.” There was an unpleasant, sour note to his final word that made your gut churn.

“Are you the only one of your kind living here?” you asked as you stepped inside and held the door open for him.

As he passed you, he said, “As far as I know. I think there are some other… non-humans… but I’ve never met them face to face.”

“It’s incredible,” you breathed. “I had no idea that that kind of thing was real, you know?”

With Dunnock now sitting on the floor beside the cold iron stove, you had the chance to look at him properly. The longer you looked, however, the more uncomfortable he grew. His ears swivelled to lie flat against his head, and he looked away.

“Dunock…” you said, stepping closer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to look at your wound? I’m not a doctor, but I could at least clean it. I’ve got a medical kit in my car…”

He licked his lips. “Alright,” he admitted. “No iron though…”

“You don’t need stitches anyway,” you commented, stunned when you looked at it again. “You’re already healing up.”

The feel of his fur beneath your fingertips was like nothing you’d experienced as a nurse at the veterinary practice. It was a struggle not to let your hands wander. However, when he saw the way you dealt with the wound, he asked, “You’re a healer of some kind?”

With a shake of your head, you set him straight. “No, I work at a vet clinic. I’m a nurse, so I help prep the animals for surgery and take care of them afterwards, and assist the vets during any procedures…” There was more to it than that, but it would do for now.

When you looked up and met Dunnock’s stunning gaze, you found that a light had kindled in his ice blue eyes. “I always said you had a knack with animals.”

“You did,” you chuckled. “Remember that red squirrel that basically became my pet for the summer?”

He nodded.

“And the deer that was eating out of my hand…?”

“Mn.”

Reflexively, as you tied off the bandage, you petted his leg, and he let out a long, soft moan, head tipping back.

“Alright?” you asked without lifting your hand from his thigh.

“Mn,” he nodded, ears flattening themselves once again.

A thought occurred to you and you asked, “Are you alone a lot up here?”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze locked unseeingly on your bag nearby. “Mn,” he finally hummed. “The forest is full of life though.”

You splayed your fingers deliberately through his pelt and took note of the solid muscle beneath. “Yeah, but it’s different… I don’t imagine that the earthworms offer particularly scintillating conversation…”

Dunnock laughed at that; a long, low, delighted chuckle that sent tingles running down your whole body. “No,” he agreed. “But I can’t seem to get the magpies to shut up.”

At the mention of the black and white birds, you recalled the jay and asked, “When I got here, there was a jay that was acting strangely…? It’s how I found you to begin with.”

He huffed another brief laugh and said, “Yeah, they’re all meddling nuisances…” There was no sting to his words and a surge of fondness rushed in to replace the panic that had been swirling through you since you’d first stepped off the veranda and into the forest.

“Will you stay?” you blurted, and he looked up at you. “I mean… I don’t have loads of food, but… I’d love to…” what, catch up? “To hear about what you’ve been doing since I left…” you finished rather lamely.

With a sarcastic little snort, he met your eye and said, “I’d rather hear about your life. Your father told me why you left so soon… Did your mother…?”

“She survived,” you said. “Tough as an old boot, that one. It was rough though. I lived with my grandmother for a long time, and then I went to university…” You stared at him as he sat there, listening to you attentively. “I never came back though. I’m sorry… I’m sorry I just left…”

He shrugged expressively. “Like I said, your father was always kind to me. I missed you though.” He shot you a sidelong look and added, “You’re even more beautiful than I thought you’d be by now…”

You flushed hot at that and laughed, diffusing the situation by beginning to sort the bag of groceries. The house had no electricity any more, not since your uncle had taken the solar panels down. You had half a mind to ask him to come and reinstall them, but you knew you wouldn’t be here long enough for it to be worth the long journey for him.

Over the course of the evening, Dunnock told you about the forest and its ebbing, flowing seasons; how he spent winter curled in a cave, dozing while the rabbits and the other wildlife drifted around him, and how in the spring he had woken to find the air fresher and full of pollen, with birds squabbling and bickering, and buds slowly unfurling from the branches. The way he spoke of the forest as one interconnected being enchanted you to the point that you forgot about the constant, enervating drone of the city, about car horns and pollution, noise and mess. That old familiar ache to return here and never leave surged stronger than ever.

As your eyes drifted closed that night, sitting on the floor, buttressed up against his weight, you sighed. “I want to stay, Dunnock,” you admitted in a whisper, right on the border of waking and sleeping. “I want to stay…”

Part Two

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I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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#changeling #fae #fae x reader #changeling x reader #exophilia #female reader #male monster

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bitch-im-your-biggest-nightmare · 4 years

Text

The Blood On Our Hands Is A Bond [Corpse x Reader SHORT]

!!THIS STORY MAY BE DISTURBING OR UNSETTLING TO SOME READERS!!

Warnings: Blood, murder, decapitation, dissembling Summary: Y/N joined Corpse on his wicked quest in murdering innocent lives. But what Corpse doesn’t understand is why... Request: No A/N: Ha we need something spooky for Halloween, don’t we? Sorry for those of you who aren’t getting what you requested! I have a lack of confidence and need time to get it back. Thanks for your patience! Tag list: @save-the-sky @alilshit @whatifwedo @hughugh20 @fleurmoon @bi-andready-tocry @itsminniekat @yoongi-holland @loraleiix @hacker-ghost @fanworrior @marvelous-musicals @annshit @unknown-and-invisible @letsloveimagines @hairbrush-anon @babyhoneystvles @dannydevitowo

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Corpse watched Y/N from the other side of the cold metal table. A dim yellow light shined down on a gruesome scene of an adult male covered in his own blood and multiple stab wounds. He was naked, but the two killers didn’t do any Jeffery Dahmer shit to the body. The purple rabbit mask he wore when he killed people was off to the side, and so was Y/Ns. He looked at her with worry, watching as she focused on cutting off the limbs of the corpse. His mind wandered, playing in the dark rainy heaths of his brain. When Y/N caught him red handed down her in the chamber in the process of slaughtering someone, he expected to instantly hear a scream and the sound of foot steps against steps and he would have to grab the closest weapon to him and kill her on the spot. But what he wasn’t was expecting was a devilish smile to lay across her face and her joining in on the fun. He never understood why Y/N wanted to join him- she seemed so pure and innocent.. but I guess he was wrong. You never know who people really are deep deep in their souls, thats a place no mind could ever wish to reach.

The sounds of sharp butcher knifes cutting the flesh of human is a sound that could send shivers down any sane persons spine. But for Y/N, it seemed to just be another sound in her ear vocab. It disturbed Corpse- not the sound, but how easily and professional looking Y/N was at... dissembling corpses. He wanted to know why Y/N was like this. People could understand why Corpse turned to the thrill and escape of torture and murder. He was outcasted by those he so desperately wanted to be apart of, he was left alone to fend for himself in the cold battle field of life. He was agoraphobic.. he was not okay. But Y/N seemed to pure and innocent. She seemed like the cute girl with so many friends and happiness, he never expected for her to be a psychopath murderer who enjoyed the cries of innocent people being tortured, the screams of agony of burning someone alive, and the sound of flesh being torn apart. Corpse sighed, being handing the bodies limp leg. You never know how heavy body parts are until you gotta carry them. He brought them into another room which had a black bags. He threw the leg in and went back to Y/N.

After a minute, Corpse finally decided to speak. “Hey Y/N? Why do you do this for me?”

He question was a little vague but Y/N understood the question perfectly. “Well...” She looked up to look into Corpses eyes, “We share the same thoughts but have different friends.” she then beckoned for Corpse to held her lift the last part of the body- the torso. Corpse helped lifting the torso up, feeling the blood stain his hoodie. They walked the body to the room and threw it into one of the bags. They then grabbed the bags one by one and put them in the back of a pick up trunk they had. It was late at night, at least 3am. The air was damp and tasted still, the only sound that could be heard was the crickets. They 2 of them hopped in the car and drove the short away to the middle of nowhere. They already lived by the forest, but they liked disposing of bodies in fields. It was less sketchy and scary, and they feared getting their asses murdered out there. They got to the field, taking the bags of limps of body parts to the middle of the field near the forest. They dumped the parts on the grass, the only light was the pale silver moonlight. They piled the parts together and poured gasoline on them, throwing a lit match and watching it engulf in flames.

They watched with devilish smirks. They made a good team, Corpse and Y/N. Killing and doing whatever they want with people. It was easy being a murderer when the other person in your house is too. While watching the flames rage around the limbs, Corpse felt a slightly wet hand on his. He looked down, seeing the dimly lit hand of Y/N wrapped around his. Both of their hands were covered in blood from playing with limbs. Corpse looked at Y/N, seeing a smile on her face.

“The blood on our hands is a bond, keep this.” He brought his hand up to kiss it, tasting the metallic flavour of blood on her glossy lips. “I love you, freak.”

Corpse smiled, surprised by hearing the words ‘I love you’ come out of the girls mouth, but happy otherwise. “I love you too, crazy.”

~The End~

#corpse husband #corpse x reader #halloween #spooktober #murder #horror #short story

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years

Text

Whiskey Pecan Pie

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Arthur isn’t known for being the nicest or gentlest person but a certain girl in the bakery makes him want to be a better person.

Word Count: 2115

A/N: I finally made it a full length imagine! I don’t know about the ending so feel free to let me know what you think about it.

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Arthur was pretty sure he was in love with you. Everything about you made him smile and feel warm inside, which usually only his alcohol could do (and even then, that only made him feel warm). Your sparkling eyes and kind smile were a shining light in the gloom that was Small Heath, a gloom that he felt partially responsible for deep down. But you made him want to be the best possible version of himself.

Your grandparents had opened a small bakery in Small Heath back in the 1860’s and it had been passed down to your parents who’d raised you up in the business as well. Baking was your life and unlike so many other people your age who’d run from their family businesses as soon as they were eighteen, you couldn’t wait to take over yours.

But your dream was so much more than the basic breads and cakes that your parents made. You couldn’t wait to add pies and cookies and scones and whatever else you managed to create in that kitchen in the back!

Today, your newest specialty had been posted up for sale: Have A Berry Good Day Cobbler. A display batch had been made up and set behind the glass of the display case while the three other cobblers sat in the back, ready to be bought up and enjoyed. You couldn’t deny, you were pretty proud of this one.

You sat behind the counter, nose buried in a book, while you awaited customers while your parents baked bread in the back. The little ding of the bell in the doorway drew your attention to the man who walked in. You smiled, immediately recognizing him as Arthur Shelby. “Good morning, Mr. Shelby.” You smiled, hopping down from your stool and closing your book.

Your kindness always took Arthur off guard. He was used to surliness and concealed emotions, unless it was anger, but with you, you always seemed to have a spare smile for someone. He eagerly took his hat off, careful to grab around the hidden blade, and stuffed it in his pocket. That was what a gentleman did, right? He couldn’t even remember proper etiquette anymore.

“Please, call me Arthur.” He insisted, finally having the nerve to make your relationship a little less formal. You made him nervous, drove butterflies wild in his stomach. It wasn’t something he was used to feeling. His life was typically fulfilled by cheap whores which couldn’t even be classified as cheap thrills anymore. Just something to fill the void. But you made it as if the void didn’t exist. He almost felt like he did before the war.

You smiled, “Alright, Arthur.” God, the way his name sounded leaving your lips was intoxicating.

The eldest Shelby brother had become a regular in your bakery about a month ago, coming in at least twice a week for one of your original sweets. You had to admit that you’d developed a (not so) slight crush on the man over the course of your interactions.

Arthur’s reputation preceded him. Everyone in Small Heath knew who the Shelby brothers were and most people were smart enough to not get involved with them. But the eldest one had captured your heart with his daily visits to your shop. His abrasive, hostile front was left at the door with the removal of his cap and his grimace was replaced with a cute upturn of his mustache as he smiled. It was clear by how he tried to hide it that it wasn’t a look he was used to having but your heart skipped a beat every time you saw it.

“So… what’s the special today?” Arthur ringed his hat nervously in his hands, careful to avoid the blades in the brim.

You turned around to grab the display dish and showed it to him, “Today I whipped up something I like to call Have A Berry Good Day Cobbler. And, yes, it is necessary to having a good day.” You giggled at your own anecdote and Arthur let out the closest thing to a laugh he was comfortable emitting. Your adorable smile that was somehow proud and humble could’ve made Arthur drop dead then and there from how cute you were.

“I’m sure if you made it, it’s delicious.” He threw out the compliment, looking at the cobbler that did indeed look delicious, “Everything you bake always is.”

Crimson burned into your cheeks at the compliment from the attractive man. You had one more surprise for him though beyond the treat of the day, “Awe, thank you. But I’m hoping you think the same about another new treat I made.”

“Two in one day?” He asked, surprised. Every day since he’d started coming in four weeks ago, he’d only ever known there to be one special pastry per day.

You held up one finger, telling him to hang for just a second, and you smiled excitedly as you turned around and disappeared behind a shelf to grab a plate. In all honesty, you were nervous out of your mind. Was this too forward? Was this going to scare him off? If it worked as you hoped, would you regret it?

When you returned just moments later, a little tart sat on a small plate in your hands, “This is a little something special I whipped up just for you.” You handed Arthur the plate, your fingers gently sliding across each other as you slid it into his grasp. Your heart sped up drastically at the contact and you glanced up at him quickly to see if he noticed it too only to lock eyes with him for a brief, nervous moment before you both looked away again.

“You-you made this just for me?” Arthur questioned, staring at the little mystery pastry in his hands in shock. Nobody had ever made a gesture like this for him before. People only did things for him out of fear or obligation but this little tart with a perfectly toasted crust and sweet looking filling was made specially for him out of the kindness of your heart, and dare he go so far to say, affection.

You watched nervously as Arthur looked down at the little pastry in his hands and then looked up to you with a twinkle in his blue eyes that told you this was something totally out of the ordinary for him but he didn’t seem to hate it. With a smile, you placed your hands on the counter that was between you and leaned all of your weight onto your hands, lifting yourself to stand on your tiptoes as you peered over, “Well, um, yeah. I may be wrong but you look like you might be a man who likes whiskey so I decided to try and make a dessert with you specially in mind. This is a pecan tart with whiskey in the caramel-pecan filling."

Arthur looked down at the pastry and then back up to see you nervously chewing your lip, though still smiling, waiting to see his response, "That sounds great,” His heart swelled with a strange emotion he’d never felt before, somewhere between utter adoration for you mixed with the unknown feeling of being loved (if he could be so bold as to entertain the thought that a girl as amazing as you could love a man like him), “How much is it?" Arthur reached into his pocket to grab his wallet. In any other store, he never paid. If people didn't give him what he wanted, he threatened them till he got it. But he could never dream of doing such a thing to you. He'd always made it a point to pay you for whatever he'd bought in your bakery.

You put up your hands, "It costs nothing, Mr. She- erm Arthur. This one's a gift. Besides, you didn't order it anyways." You laughed a little, hand going to cover his hand that was extended with several coins in it, ready to push it away but stopping when your skin touched his for the first time.

Your breath caught in your throat. Arthur’s skin was similar to how you’d imagined, somewhere between smooth and calloused with rougher spots on his knuckles.

Arthur had a similar reaction. When he finally felt your soft but thoroughly worked hands on his, he nearly choked on his own tongue. Was this what it was like to actually love a woman? To not just want their body for a few fun minutes? Of course, there was the physical attraction to you that was undeniable but he actually wanted to get to know you. He craved you, all of you - body, mind, and soul. The thought of harm ever coming to you made his blood boil.

“Please, I insist. Let me give you a few pounds at least?” He begged, not making any effort to move his hand away from yours. He also definitely noticed that you hadn’t retracted your reach yet either.

A blush crept up on your cheeks, as if they could possibly get any redder when he was around, “Can’t you accept a gift, Arthur?” You insisted, your tone sweet but taunting.

He sighed and pulled his hand away, “Alright, alright. Thank you for the pie.” He nodded, gesturing to the tart.

“It’s technically a tart I think but you’re welcome. Let me know how you like it, yeah?” Arthur only prayed that his cheeks weren’t as bright as they felt. The way your kind eyes twinkled with pride in your work made your entire face glow more radiant than it already did. You were so intelligent and kind and giving.

“Everything you make is delicious and I’m sure this is no exception.” Arthur complimented awkwardly, shifting his weight on his feet nervously as he did so. Kindness and compliments were far from his usual vocabulary but he felt the need to make sure you knew how amazing you were. It didn’t mean it came naturally to him though.

“Awe, you’re too kind.” You looked away shyly, giggling at his amiable gestures. Men had seldom looked at you the way Arthur Shelby did. Other girls were beautiful and oftentimes fairly well off, or at least the ones the boys often chased were. You felt like you were always just there, not necessarily the most beautiful girl in Small Heath, nor the richest. You had your pies and cookies but was that really enough?

But you were so much more than that. Arthur saw plain as day the beautiful soul you were but he could also see that you didn’t see yourself the way he did.

“Arthur!” A male’s voice startled the both of you from the trances you’d fallen into, lost in each other's eyes, as a man burst into the bakery, the little bell ringing as he spoke, “Tommy needs us back at the shop.”

Arthur sighed, “Alright, Finn, I’ll be there in a moment.” The door closed again and the smitten look that Arthur always donned in your presence began to fade away into the harder expression you saw him wear around town. Regretfully, Arthur’s hand fell from yours but his heart ached for it to be back in your grasp, “I guess I should get going. Thank you again. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your hand quickly returned to the table, suddenly feeling awkward and wrong now that the warmth of his touch had disappeared, “See you then. Have a good rest of your day, Arthur.” You tried not to sound too disappointed that he had to leave but if you had it your way, he’d stay all day.

With one last small, nearly hidden smile, and a nod of farewell, he took off out the door, brushing his hair back with his fingers and throwing his cap back onto his head. Now that you were alone, you brushed your hair back and finally released the breath of air you weren’t aware you had been holding. “That wasn’t so difficult, now was it?” You asked yourself rhetorically. Clearly, he didn’t reject it. In fact, he seemed to be quite delighted by the gesture which had to be a good sign, right? You needed to stop worrying so much.

You pushed yourself back off the counter to begin restocking the loaves of bread when you noticed something on the counter, right where yours and Arthur’s hands had been holding onto each other. Five pounds sat on the smooth wood and you rolled your eyes, chuckling as you took the money that Arthur left despite your insistence that the dessert was a gift and put it in the cash box, “So persistent.”

#Arthur Shelby #arthur shelby oneshot #arthur shelby imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder headcanon #arthur shelby x reader #fluff

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ticklikeabomb · 5 years

Text

Birth in Reverse : Part 4

Pairing : Avengers x Plus Size Reader (ships next chapter)

Warning : Language

Word Count : 1.9k

Inside the room once everyone was seated, Tony plugged the drive in. A close-up shot from a man was seen. It was dark, the only light on the room illuminating his face. "Hello Y/N. If you see this, it means I'm dead. I know you must be confused right now and you don't know who to trust anymore. One thing is for sure, don't trust anyone." There was a small pause where he would check his surroundings. "The first thing you have to know is that you're part of Hydra." You gasped and shocked your head "No", feeling all the Avenger's eyes burning holes in your skin.

Your breath got stuck on your throat after this affirmation. You couldn't even dare looking at anyone, shame and shock possessing you. "When I say Hydra, I mean you were", the man on the screen continued. Your head lifted up, your features screaming confusion. "I was part of it too. It took me a while to realize that I was on the wrong side all along but Dr Jules knew. She knew you had to be saved. Hydra became uncontrollable, their madness reaching the verge of understanding. I know you're a little confused right know." He kept looking at his surroundings.

"You and your twin sister lost your parents when you were young. Hydra planned their assassination and pretended it was an accident but what they didn't plan was that you were both with them. For some kind of miracle you and your sister survived and were taking in. Dr Jules was part of your education ever since. You've been trained and controlled. The difference between you and you was that one got powers and the other had to work harder for it, your sister. She trained non stop, eventually become the perfect soldat, the perfect death machine but she made a mistake. She became reckless, always trying to take matters into her own hands without anyone while you were the voice of reason, seeing the futur, preventing major Hydra costs. The leaders couldn't bare her stubbornness anymore and found the perfect way to shot her out. Their greatest success I might say. You ! The new you. They modified your genome and planted part of her brain, cells and blood in you. The reasonable mixed with the fierceness, the perfect combination. Dr Jules couldn't bare what they've done to both of you and freed you, erasing your memory and implanting a new life inside your brain. I reached out to her and she told me how to reactivate you. If you're seeing this tape it means you're you again, -ish and that not only is Jules dead but so am I. DON'T LET THEM GET TO YOU. Good luck Y/N."

The screen went black, silence filling the room. No one dared to speak up, everyone as shocked as the other. Your vision was blurred, waves of tears on the verge to cascade your face, while your breathing quickened. "They killed h-" 'Yes they did. Kind of', you heard the voice in your head. The voice you thought was yours since you've got reactivated, turning out it was your sister's. "Y/N?", you heard a faint male voice coming closer. You looked at the source's direction and saw Bucky kneeled in front of you. That's when you lost it and fell into the spirals of your oceanic tears. You felt the room compress around you, heath engulfing you and noticed that the Avengers stepped closer, trying to transmit their support in their own way. 'Stop crying, they must be pitying us. I hate it.' Hearing her voice, knowing it was part of her in you made you sob even harder. You put your hands on your head, rocking your body back and forth until you abruptly stopped. Your mouth slightly agape, your blank expression and your lifeless eyes replaced your natural state. "Boss she's going into a complete state of shock", informed F.R.I.D.A.Y

"Y/N hey kid stay with me. Come on", said Tony inched from you. The tears kept sliding down your face but with a silence that made everyone's blood cold. Your eyes locked with Tony's brown ones and you whispered, "I'm tired, so tired." 'So dramatic. GIRL the F.' Wanda stepped closer and slowly took your hand in hers. "What's your name?", she asked. 'Why is she asking your name?' She chuckled and looked you in the eyes, "No, I mean what's yours? I don't really wanna refer to you as Y/N's sister." You frowned and remembered Wanda could read minds and was trying to communicate with…'Nadia'. "Nice to…meet you Nadia. Ehm could you help Y/N in calming her down or something?", asked the Scarlet Witch calmly. 'Why would I do that? She failed me', was the last words you heard before feeling darkness invading you.

Screams. Screams getting louder and louder by the second. 'Y/NNNN.' A hand stretching out to you and your eyes terrified looking back at you. Her eyes. 'HELPP.' A louder scream pulled you up from the darkness, the only light shining in the room was the moon's reflection. Sweat covered your body and heavy pants leaving your mouth were the best terms to describe your state. You stood up and walked to the bathroom, discharging your clothes to the ground and leaving the boiling water hit your skin. 'It might be your body but I still can feel it burn. Turn the water down'. You didn't obey and kept it at the hottest level. You heard her curse you out and blabber in your mind and cut her off in a whisper, "Nadia." She didn't respond. "This is so fucking weird", you mumbled under your breath. 'No shit', she commented. "I…I don't remember", you said, tears tickling your eyeballs. 'I know but you will. Eventually.' You turned the water down, took a towel wrapping it around your body and exited the room. Your head lifted from the ground and you saw Bucky sitting on the edge of the bed. When his eyes met yours, they widened and he turned his face, a small blush creeping up his neck and cheeks. "Fuck, sorry Y/N. I didn't mean to-" 'What is Jesus doing here?'

"What are you doing here?", you asked. He scratched the back of his neck, his gaze focused on the wall opposite from you and cleared his throat. "I… F.R.I.D.A.Y noticed me you woke up and I was worried." "Oh", was all that left your mouth. You sat down on the bed and told him it was ok to join you. "I'm covered. You can sit down if you want to." He did as you said but his blush kept darkening, his mind telling him your luscious and soft body was naked underneath the towel. "How are you feeling?", he asked with a slight crack on his voice. You looked at him and shrugged, "Like I don't know myself anymore. Like I thought I was this person and find out it was complete bullshit, not even starting on the fact that I share my consciousness with my twin sister. It's…I don't know. I'm lost." He nodded, his eyes clouded with pain and understanding. "I know exactly what that feels doll", he breathed out, his hand ceasing yours in a comforting squeeze. "If you need anything I'll be always here for you, alright?", he commented not even aware where that came from. You nodded and closed the gab between you, engulfing him in a hug. Not expecting it, Bucky's body froze before letting himself go and hugging you back. You disengaged and apologized for stepping onto his personal space. His response to that consisted of him hugging you again this time tighter, your sweet scent invading his nostrils. 'If you two become a thing I fucking riot', Nadia commented. A small chuckle unintentionally left your lips at her words before disengaging the hug again. "I need to put some clothes on", you noted. He stood up and stumbled on his way out. 'Well fuck.' "You never shut do you?", you asked Nadia. 'Nope.' "Great", you mumbled.

As you told Bucky, you put on some clothes and decided to walk to the kitchen. You thought it would be empty but at your surprise, the house was on full mode. Their animated conversion stopped abruptly when you entered the kitchen. A small smile made its way but quickly faded. The silence and their stares made you uncomfortable. That's the precise moment Thor chose to step towards you and took your hand, leading you to the table. Astonished by his action, he replied with a bright smile and drops a plate with freshly backed pancaked in front of you. 'Well that's a man', Nadia commented in a rather silky voice. "WHAT?", you asked. "Ehm Y/N, are you ok?", asked Scott. You looked at everyone and noticed Wanda's amused smirk taking a gulp from her coffee. "Yeah, sorry", you replied and plunged on the food in front of you. "You sure? You've been out for two days", added Clint, who received a slap on the shoulder from Natasha. "Ouch", he hissed and rubbed on the spot. "Don't pay attention to him", she declared and smiled at you. 'I wanna spare with her', commented Nadia. You shook your head in disagreement but play it off. "Y/N!!", you heard Roger's in authority. 'Arghhh I can't stand this one', told Nadia to which you couldn't agree more. He was really getting on your nerves and apparently you weren't the only one. "We talked with among us and we would like for you to stay with us, be part of the Avengers", he continued in a more quiet tone, a small smile crossing his features. 'Well I wasn't expecting this.' "Eh I don't know", you replied back hesitant. "Just think about it", he said. Well that definitely caught you off guard. you though he would push you into accepting but were glad he didn't. You continued your meal, your eyes scanning the crowd who continued their previous shenanigans and your eyes focused on Thor. He was telling Rhodes and Scott about some Asgard adventures, putting all his heart into the story. 'Godly indeed. Hmmm', whispered Nadia while you were taking a gulp of your drink.

Obviously you choked on her words and coughed out load, "Fuck Nadia." Wanda helped you clean up, trying to contain her laugh but Nadia wasn't having it. 'What all I'm saying is that I wouldn't mind to hold his hammer.' To that Wanda lost it completely while you wished you could disappear down a hole. "What is going on there?", asked Tony with a suspicious look a small smirk forming. "Nothing", you replied way to fast. "Are you alright Lady Y/N? Does your throat hurt?", asked Thor innocently. 'It could hurt if you want too'. Your eyes widened which let a confused look appear on the God of Thunder. "Nope, my throat is completely fine. No need of assistance", you replied your voice trembling. Wanda was bend down, laughing her ass off and your eyes shot daggers at her. Your pleading gaze met Bucky's whose expression looked tense : jaw clenched and dark eyes. He stood up, put his plate on the sink and left the room. "Shit", you breathed out. 'Someone looks jealous', commented Nadia. "Shut the fuck up Nadia", you replied through greeted teeth. 'Make me !', she spat in a menacing voice.

* gifs not mine, credit to owners*

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alina-dixon · 2 years

Text

Fandoms I write for:

(I Only write x Male readers)

(smut is allowed!)

Lists: part 2, part 3, part 4 Part 5

Linkin Park:

- Chester Bennington

- Mike Shinoda

Supernatural:

- Sam Winchester

- Dean Winchester

- John Winchester

- Castiel

- Lucifer

Star Wars:

- Anakin Skywalker

- Obi-wan Kenobi

- Kylo Ren

- The Madalorian

One Piece:

- Zoro

- Sanji

- Mihawk

- Shanks

- Law

- Ace

- Smoker

- Rob Lucci

Final Fantasy XV:

- Noctis

- Ignis

- Gladio

- Prompto

- Ardyn

- Cor

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

- Link

- Sidon

Monster High (Don't ask it was my childhood!): (Closed for now)

- Valentine Kieran

- Deuce Gorgon

- Jackson Jekyll/Holt Hyde

- Heath Burns

- Gil Webber

- Clawd Wolf

Rise of the Guardians: (Closed for now)

- Jack Frost

- North

ONCE UPON A TIME:(closed for now)

- Peter Pan

Stranger Things:

- Eddie Munson

- Peter Ballard(001)/Henry/Vecna

- Billy Hargrove

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underqualified-human · 2 years

Text

Monster High Masterlist

Last Updated: 28/10/2022

Incorrect quotes:

AU:

[Cut for space]

Keiran Valentine:

x tall! male! reader (oneshot)

Frankie Stein:

Dating Headcanons

Clawdeen Wolf:

x wendigo reader [headcanons]

General relationship headcanons [fem]

Draculaura:

x wendigo reader [headcanons]

General relationship headcanons

Jackson Jekyll/Holt Hyde:

[Jackson Jekyll] Kissing Headcanons

Heath Burns:

x Son of Pestilence reader

Cleo De Nile:

Dating Headcanons [trans fem]

Lagoona Blue:

Nothing Yet!

Viperine Gorgon:

Dating Headcanons

#x reader #masterlist #monster high #monster high x reader

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fairyshuuu · 7 years

Text

Leech

Genre~ Angst/Fluff Length~ 3.2k Pairing~ Chanyeol x Reader Warnings~ Mentions of blood

With a deep sigh, he rolls over in bed, tracing the soft dent in the mattress. You are gone, as usual. His hands fist into the thin comforter, pulling it closer to his body. How was any of this fair? He gave you everything you could ever ask for, yet wanting you to stay until the morning was a request to far? He sighs, blowing his maroon red hair out of his face, pulling his long legs close to him. All he wanted was to hold you outside of the cover of night, yet you wouldn’t allow it, stubborn as you are.

But even with that in mind, he couldn’t help the feeling that you somehow were also growing towards him, even if you would never admit. You could have been with anyone else last night, but you were with him. You were around him, in his arms and covered in his lips and he can’t help but feel like you maybe are his, just like he’s yours. Because that is what it comes down to, isn’t it. He’s yours, so fully and completely yours it scares him. Not just the physical bond the two of you have, more than that, the safety you look for in his arms. He rubs his eyes, feeling the soreness hit him now.

“Rise and fucking shine, motherfucker.” A voice cuts through the room, but Chanyeol doesn’t open his eyes, doesn’t need to, to recognise the steps walking towards him. Then, someone suddenly jumps on top of him, making him groan and sit up immediately. He winces, pulling up a hand to his neck and holding it carefully, opening his eyes to the face of his best friend. The other man sighs, eyes moving from his neck to his eyes, traveling over his exposed chest full of bruises.

“Chanyeol, sometimes I think you have a need to destroy yourself…” Baekhyun shakes his head at his taller friend, taking a seat next to him in the bed.

“It’s hard to understand when you don’t know what it feels like.”

With a scoff, Baekhyun scoots closer to him, pulling his hand away from his neck. “I think I can take a guess. It feels like a fucking leech attached to your neck.”

With a flinch, Chanyeol pulls away, standing up from the bed quickly, looking his friend down. “She’s not a fucking leech, Baekhyun. She would never if I didn’t let her. And-”

“And now she’s like a parasite! How many times has she been here, huh? And how many times has she actually spent the whole night? How many, Chanyeol?”

“I don’t know! It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter! She’s using you as a free meal! How does that not bother you?”

Chanyeol walks over to the side of the room, picking up a black sweater from the floor and pulling it over his head. “She’s the only person that makes me feel like this.”

“The only thing.”

Chanyeol now turns to his friend, hands in fists next to his body. “What?”

“The only thing, not person. She’s a dirty parasite and I don’t want her around you anymore.”

“Who are you to decide, Baekhyun? You don’t even know her.”

“I’m glad I don’t.”

With a huff, the tallest man walks out of the room, biting back a snarky comment as he hears his friend hop off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Getting out of here.”

Baekhyun grabs hold of his wrist harshly, pulling him to stop. “Where are you-? Are you really going to find her again?”

Chanyeol runs his fingers through his hair, tucking it out of his face, sighing softly. “I know you think that I’m delusional.”

Baekhyun lets out a huff too, his hand gliding from his friend’s arm. He looks up at Chanyeol, eyes going over the holes in his neck again, before looking at his feet. “Pretty much.”

“But I’m not, okay. She’s a good person, there are just not- not a lot of people who let her prove herself.”

“I wonder why-”

“Look, Baek, she never chose this. I will never judge her for something that’s out of her control, and I want you to do the same. Please.”

Baekhyun rubs his face, taking a step back into the apartment. “You really like her?”

“Yes.”

“And I guess you think she likes you too.”

“I- I know she does.” That’s a lie, it’s more of a solid guess.

Baekhyun groans, throwing his head back like he is in pain at the answer, his hands in his neck. “How can you- you know what? Fine. Let’s say she does, what do you think visiting her now is going to achieve? She’s probably lying in her coffin now or something.” Chanyeol glares down at him, turning around again, when Baekhyun pulls him again. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think this is how you should...”

“I can try, can’t I?”

“Just ignoring it isn’t going to do you any good! Literally do anything else!” Chanyeol pauses, eyes finding Baekhyun’s.

“Then what do you suggest?”

-- --

The club is filthy, filled with bodies, sweat and alcohol, the smell making your stomach turn and twist, painfully so. You turn your head away as another pair of entangled bodies passes you, forcing your jaw closed and open the back door, stepping out into the chilly night air. From the moment the door falls into the latch behind you, you let out a tense sigh, leaning back against the wall. It’s a little wet, making you yelp as you jump away, rubbing your arms.

Maybe coming out here in your lingerie wasn’t the best idea. You groan when you hear a male voice at the other end of the club call your name, the sound traveling over the shitty music from inside. You take another deep breath in, letting your tongue run over your teeth gently, before pulling the door open. You’d be fine. Most people here smelled like smoke and vodka anyway. The wave of heath smacks you in the face from the moment the door closes. You walk around the corner of the room, wincing as your face automatically snaps sideways, staring at the hallways in the back of the building.

You can feel your fangs start extending while you stare into the dark, your head twisting at the sensation. He was here, he had to be. No one else could make your body react this quickly, this dangerously needy. You close your eyes and take a whiff, biting your tongue as the disgusting smells fill your lungs. But somewhere in there, you can almost taste his skin, sweet and warm, and your eyes shoot open at the sensation. You slowly push yourself forward along the wall, trying to keep in control of the urges running through your veins.

When you reach the door, you push it open carefully, your one hand digging nails into your thigh, trying to keep yourself from ripping the door from it’s hinges. When your eyes fall on his form, sat down on his knees on the dirty floor you shudder, wanting to jump him right then and there. That doesn’t last long though, the taste of another creature distracting you. Your throat squeezes shut as your eyes fall on the woman standing in front of him, dressed in blue lingerie, her finger on his neck, nail cutting into his perfect skin and drawing blood.

You can’t help the noise that tears from your body as you launch at her, ripping her away from his body by her shoulders and she bites out a hiss at you, her blue split tongue coming out to wet her lips. Siren. You hiss back, fangs stabbing into your lips as you glare at her, making her back up. Without wasting another second, you take hold of Chanyeol’s arm, pulling him up against you and walking out of the room. When he blinks slowly and falls out of the woman’s trance, he tenses in your hold, legs moving with you unsurely.

You swallow harshly, keeping your eyes at the front, leading him backstage carefully. You can hear his heartbeat in your own body, the sound of his blood pumping through his veins a dangerous melody, but you fight back the urge to plunge your teeth into his neck as hard as you can, shutting the door of the changing room behind you.

“Y/N…”

You sigh, pressing your forehead against the door as his voice resonates through the room, the sound almost making you lose your composure. “I told you not to come here.”

Chanyeol pauses, his eyes burning holes in the side of your face from his seat on one of the make-up tables. When you pull away from the door, your unsteady breathing seems to even out, releasing you from the pull of your instincts. You turn around to look at him. His maroon hair falls in strands in front of his face, making just his big ears stick out and you hold a smile at the sight. His lips red, as if he’s been biting them, and eyes big as he regards you.

You blink again, before walking over to the make-up table next to him, picking up a small cloth and coming to stand in between his legs. You gently tilt his chin up, putting the fabric against the cut, studying his face while he doesn’t take his eyes off you. His cheeks are more sunken in than you remember when you first saw him, dark circles under his eyes. You mentally kick yourself again, for hurting him like this. “Sirens are nasty things. She would have took you home and ripped out your organs for fun, baby.”

He hums softly, the vibration running through your fingertips and you tilt your head back a bit as his soft breathing tickles your face. “I’m sorry.”

While all the hairs on your body lift up to meet his voice, you turn your eyes downwards, taking a step back. You suddenly felt wrong, standing so close to his body like this. Wrong, to have his perfect skin marked and cut. Wrong, to stand here with way too much skin exposed, and definitely wrong to have him ever set foot in a disgusting and degrading place like this. Your mate, the one you were supposed to spend forever with. He was so much better than most people, and definitely better than monsters like you.

“What are you doing here, Chanyeol?” He trembles at the sound of your voice, though you can’t tell if it’s in excitement or fear, something that makes you take back another step. You turn away from him, dropping the cloth in the trashcan. You refuse to turn back around, fingers drumming on your belly softly instead, when you hear him stand from the table and walk over to you, his fingers ghosting over your shoulders.

“I missed you.” You let out a shaky breath when his fingers land on your shoulders, so hot and close and perfect, it hurts. You can feel the truth in his words, and that is what makes you want to push his hand away. How can he miss you? Why does he miss something like you? You sigh, running your hands through your hair.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“I wanted to, though.” You can hear him bite his lip, one hand gently sliding down your back to land at your waist. He takes a step closer and you can’t help but lean into him when his face hovers just above your shoulder. “I missed you.”

From the second his lips touch your skin, you lose it, turning around and smack him against the wall, fangs all but breaking his skin while your hands are on his shoulders. A strong want courses through your veins as you drag your sharp teeth over his shoulder, towards the crook of his neck. You can feel his heart bang in his chest, the blood under his skin calling you to bite down. You put your lips to his skin, kissing the soft skin harshly, dragging your bottom teeth over the vein in his neck.

At the feeling, he lets out a soft whimper, and you pause. Suddenly, you find yourself again and push yourself away from his body, pulling your shaky hands to yourself, intertwining your fingers behind your back. Your body feels burning, tearing from the mixed feelings, the urge to sink your teeth into his neck and the want to protect him, and you groan, turning away from him in pained restraint. Chanyeol is still frozen against the wall, panting heavily. He enjoys being bitten, sadly, and you hate yourself for ever touching him in the first place.

“Y/N-”

“Get out!”

Chanyeol flinches when you turn around suddenly, pushing him towards the door. “Wait, Y/N, it’s fine, I-”

You bite your bottom lip harshly when you feel the tears burn behind your eyes. “Get out! I will kill you one day, do you not see that? Get out, please!”

Chanyeol keeps his feet planted on the ground, while you look down at the ground, squeezing your eyes shut. When his arms wrap around your body, you can’t help but let a tear roll over your cheek, pressing your face into his chest. “Shh, shhh, it’s alright, gorgeous. It’s okay. You stopped, didn’t you? You won’t hurt me.” His hands find your face, as he rests his chin on the top of your head, gently stroking your cheeks.

“Why are you here, Yeol? You shouldn’t be here.”

“I wanted to come see you. Come.” He takes hold of your hand, pulling you towards the door while you drag behind him in confusion.

“Woah, where are we going?” He smiles softly as he looks down at you, blood rushing to his cheeks while he licks his lips.

“I want to introduce you to some people.”

“What?”

He laughs at your expression, his eyes turning to crescent moons. “You can skip work, come on. I’ll pay you for what you would make.” You look at him with wide eyes, before pulling him back from walking away again. He pouts at you, his big eyes looking at where you are glaring at him. When you sigh, he smiles, since he knows he’s already won.

“I should probably put on pants, shouldn’t I?” Chanyeol’s smile falls, seemingly only now realizing your attire, and giving you a guilty look when you pull your hand from his. He’s probably used to seeing you in no clothes, rather than fully dressed. You quickly put on some black jeans and a soft pink sweater, tugging your hair behind your ears. “How’s this?” Chanyeol smiles at you, his eyes lingering on your sweater for longer than necessary. When he meets your eyes, you scowl at him. “What?”

“You look so adorable dressed in pink.”

You look at your feet at his compliment, before taking his hand. “Just go, you tall idiot.” Chanyeol laughs brightly, pulling your body closer into his side before opening the door.

-- --

“I don’t want to, Chanyeol. I’m not good at being around a lot of people, for more reason than one.” The man next you you hums, but just keeps walking, taking you with him. When you try to turn away, he grabs hold of your shoulder with a smile, pushing you on. “Yeol, please-”

“You will be fine. And if they bother you, just look at me, okay?” The two of you get to the door of the restaurant and you can feel multiple beating hearts inside, banging like a drum, making your stomach twist. They all seem to be terrified, but then again, so are you. You take a deep breath, before pushing the door open. The small restaurant is dimly lit, though this isn’t a problem for you.

The smell of food is quite overwhelming, paired with the smell of so many people, but you pull up your nose and push through, squeezing hard in Chanyeol’s hand. He seems more nervous than you are, his heart beating so hard you swear you can see it move up and down through his shirt. He holds your hand tightly, leading you through the hall and into the main area of the building. The dinner is covered in a soft purple glow from the neon lighting on the wall.

The two of you walk past booths of people, before Chanyeol holds you still, leading you into a booth, sitting down next to you gently. The person sitting in front of you is completely frozen, staring at the both of you with his fork halfway in his mouth, eyes wide. “Hey, Baekhyun.” The smaller male in front of you gently puts his fork down, letting out a soft sigh. “This is Y/N. Gorgeous, this is my best friend.” You softly smile at him, his eyes flicking from his friend to your mouth and then back to Chanyeol.

With a little sigh, Baekhyun clears his throat, now turning to face you halfway. “Nice to meet you.”

You smile in relief, putting out your hand to him. He just inspects your hand for a second, looking at it as if it’s a foreign object, before carefully lifting his hand from his lap and taking yours to shake it. “So you are the- girl that’s been claiming Chanyeol, huh.”

You look back at Chanyeol, a soft smile on your face as you push his shoulder, looking back at Baekhyun. “I think it’s more the other way around.”

Baekhyun moves his eyes between the two of you a couple of times, before looking at his food. “Fine, I’ll just ask, because this is ridiculous. This whole vampire thing-”

You look up at his words, eyes wide, before turning to Chanyeol. Chanyeol just runs his hands through his red locks, closing his eyes. “You told him?”

“Of course he did! What did you want him to do, hide it from me so you could suck him dry?”

Your eyes snap back at the man sitting in front of you at his hostile tone, feeling your teeth peek through out of instinct. “I never wanted to bite him, he asked me to! I wanted to get as far away from him as possible.”

“Yet here you are! You clearly didn’t try hard enough!”

You briskly get up from your seat, making Baekhyun flinch back in panic, and you can feel tears in your eyes as you run out, biting your lips. You make it until the door before bumping into someone, smacking them to the floor because of the momentum. You can hear the sound of glass shattering, before the smell of blood fills your nostrils. At your feet is a man, holding his hand with a pained expression. You sit down immediately, taking his hand into yours, ignoring whatever commotion is going on behind you.

“Jongdae!” Baekhyun is suddenly at your side, trying to rip you away from the poor man on the floor, but you keep your feet planted next to him.

You help him up, being careful to not walk into any shards and lead him over to the table, taking a napkin and pushing it against the cut. It luckily wasn’t deep. “I am so sorry. Are you alright?”

Jongdae nods, thanking you quietly, before you let go of him carefully, taking a step away. Baekhyun doesn’t speak, he just keeps his eyes on you as you back away from the group. You sigh, turning around to bump into a broad chest. Chanyeol is suddenly completely wrapped around you, his hands in your neck, pulling you against him. His lips are so soft, you let out a whimper at the feeling, melting into his touch.

When he pulls away gently, he taps his nose against yours, foreheads against each other. “Stay, baby, please. I don’t want to see you walk away anymore.”

You let out a huff, before nodding slowly. No more running. Someone clears their throat behind the two of you, making you turn to face him. Baekhyun.

“So, you are Chanyeol’s girl. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

#exowritersnet #kpoptrashtag #exo #chanyeol #au #fluff #angst #vampire #fantasy #halloween #drabble #mywriting #exowriting

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malte1mj-blog · 7 years

Text

2008 Movie Awards

Best Picture: The Dark Knight Milk Rachel Getting Married WALL-E The Wrestler HONORABLE MENTION: Doubt, The Class, Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father, Burn After Reading, Wendy and Lucy, Man on Wire, Hunger, Ballast, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Happy-Go-Lucky, Synecdoche New York Best Director: Darren Aronofsky, The Wrestler Jonathan Demme, Rachel Getting Married Christopher Nolan, The Dark Knight Andrew Stanton, WALL-E Gus Van Sant, Milk HONORABLE MENTION: Laurent Cantet, The Class; Ethan Coen & Joel Coen, Burn After Reading; David Fincher, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button; Lance Hammer, Ballast; Charlie Kaufman, Synecdoche, New York; Kurt Kuenne, Dear Zachary; Mike Leigh, Happy-Go-Lucky; James Marsh, Man on Wire; Steve McQueen, Hunger; Kelly Reichardt, Wendy and Lucy; John Patrick Shanley, Doubt Best Actor: Michael Fassbender, Hunger Richard Jenkins, The Visitor Ben Kingsley, Elegy Sean Penn, Milk Mickey Rourke, The Wrestler HONORABLE MENTION: Francois Begeaudeau, The Class; Michael Cera, Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist; Robert Downey Jr., Iron Man; Colin Farrell, In Bruges; James Franco, Pineapple Express; Brendan Gleeson, In Bruges; Philip Seymour Hoffman, Doubt; Philip Seymour Hoffman, Synecdoche New York; Frank Langella, Frost/Nixon; Brad Pitt, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button; Michael Pitt, Funny Games; Alejandro Polanco, Chop Shop; Jason Segel, Forgetting Sarah Marshall; Micheal J. Smith Sr., Ballast; Anton Yelchin, Charlie Barlett Best Actress: Anne Hathaway, Rachel Getting Married Sally Hawkins, Happy-Go-Lucky Kristin Scott Thomas, I've Loved You So Long Meryl Streep, Doubt Michelle Williams, Wendy and Lucy HONORABLE MENTION: Amy Adams, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day; Kate Beckinsale, Nothing But the Truth; Cate Blanchett, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button; Rebecca Hall, Vicky Cristina Barcelona; Scarlett Johansson, Vicky Cristina Barcelona; Nicole Kidman, Australia; Melissa Leo, Frozen River; Frances McDormand, Burn After Reading; Frances McDormand, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day; Tarra Riggs, Ballast; Jess Weixler, Teeth; Kate Winslet, Revolutionary Road Best Supporting Actor: James Franco, Milk Bill Irwin, Rachel Getting Married Heath Ledger, The Dark Knight Eddie Marsan, Happy-Go-Lucky Brad Pitt, Burn After Reading HONORABLE MENTION: Russell Brand, Forgetting Sarah Marshall; Josh Brolin, Milk; Brady Corbet, Funny Games; Liam Cunningham, Hunger; Aaron Eckhart, The Dark Knight; Ralph Fiennes, In Bruges; Danny McBride, Pineapple Express; Liam McMahon, Hunger; Mos Def, Cadillac Records; Gary Oldman, The Dark Knight; Dev Patel, Slumdog Millionaire; Haaz Sleiman, The Visitor Best Supporting Actress: Penelope Cruz, Vicky Cristina Barcelona Viola Davis, Doubt Rosemarie DeWitt, Rachel Getting Married Samantha Morton, Synecdoche, New York Evan Rachel Wood, The Wrestler HONORABLE MENTION: Hiam Abbass, The Visitor; Amy Adams, Doubt; Patricia Clarkson, Elegy; Vera Farmiga, Nothing But the Truth; Ari Graynor, Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist; Taraji P. Henson, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button; Anjelica Huston, Choke; Beyonce Knowles, Cadillac Records; Sophie Okonedo, The Secret Life of Bees; Freida Pinto, Slumdog Millionaire; Tilda Swinton, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button; Marisa Tomei, The Wrestler; Debra Winger, Rachel Getting Married; Elysa Zylberstein, I’ve Loved You So Long Best Original Screenplay: Burn After Reading - Ethan Coen & Joel Coen Hunger - Steve McQueen & Enda Walsh Milk - Dustin Lance Black Rachel Getting Married - Jenny Lumet WALL-E - Pete Docter, Jim Reardon & Andrew Stanton HONORABLE MENTION: Australia, Ballast, Charlie Barlett, Chop Shop, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Happy-Go-Lucky, In Bruges, I’ve Loved You So Long, Pineapple Express, Synecdoche New York, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, The Visitor, The Wrestler, Zack and Miri Make a Porno Best Adapted Screenplay: The Class - Francois Begaudeau, Robin Campillo & Laurent Cantet The Dark Knight - David S. Goyer, Christopher Nolan & Jonathan Nolan Doubt - John Patrick Shanley Elegy - Nicholas Meyer Slumdog Millionaire - Simon Beaufoy HONORABLE MENTION: The Counterfeiters, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Iron Man, Let the Right One In, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist, Speed Racer, Wendy and Lucy Best Ensemble: Burn After Reading The Class The Dark Knight Milk Slumdog Millionaire HONORABLE MENTION: Australia, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Doubt, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Funny Games, Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist, Rachel Getting Married, Speed Racer, Synecdoche New York, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Zack and Miri Make a Porno Best Limited Performance - Male: Andre Blake, Rachel Getting Married Justin Long, Zack and Miri Make a Porno Denis O'Hare, Milk Michael Shannon, Revolutionary Road J.K. Simmons, Burn After Reading HONORABLE MENTION: Alan Alda, Flash of Genius; Michael Caine, The Dark Knight; Tom Cruise, Tropic Thunder; Bill Hader, Pineapple Express; David Rasche, Burn After Reading; Victor Rasuk, Stop-Loss; Mark Rendall, Charlie Barlett Best Limited Performance - Female: Patricia Clarkson, Vicky Cristina Barcelona Hope Davis, Synecdoche, New York Karina Fernandez, Happy-Go-Lucky Amy Ryan, Changeling Robin Weigert, Synecdoche, New York HONORABLE MENTION: Heather Burns, Choke; Zoe Kazan, Revolutionary Road; Jennifer Jason Leigh, Synecdoche New York; Lena Olin, The Reader; Amy Sedaris, Snow Angels; Sigourney Weaver, Vantage Point; Dianne Wiest, Synecdoche New York; Kristen Wiig, Ghost Town Breakthrough Performance: Ari Graynor, Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist Alejandro Polanco, Chop Shop Tarra Riggs, Ballast Micheal J. Smith Sr., Ballast Jess Weixler, Teeth HONORABLE MENTION: David Kross, The Reader; Lina Leandersson, Let the Right One In; Charlie McDermott, Frozen River; Gabe Nevins, Paranoid Park; Esmeralda Ouertani, The Class; Freida Pinto, Slumdog Millionaire; Rachel Regulier, The Class; Brandon Walters, Australia Best Film Editing: The Dark Knight - Lee Smith Hunger - Joe Walker Rachel Getting Married - Tim Squyres Slumdog Millionaire - Chris Dickens The Wrestler - Andrew Weisblum HONORABLE MENTION: Australia, Ballast, Burn After Reading, Chop Shop, The Class, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Dear Zachary, Doubt. Funny Games, Hellboy II: The Golden Army, Iron Man, Let the Right One In, Man on Wire, Milk, Paranoid Park, Pineapple Express, Speed Racer Best Cinematography: Australia - Mandy Walker Ballast - Lol Crawley The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - Claudio Miranda The Dark Knight - Wally Pfister The Wrestler - Maryse Alberti HONORABLE MENTION: Burn After Reading, Changeling, Chop Shop, Doubt, Elegy, Funny Games, Hunger, Let the Right One In, Milk, Paranoid Park, Rachel Getting Married, The Reader, Revolutionary Road, Slumdog Millionaire, Synecdoche New York, Wendy and Lucy Best Original Score: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - Alexandre Desplat The Dark Knight - James Newton Howard & Hans Zimmer Milk - Danny Elfman Slumdog Millionaire - A.R. Rahman WALL-E - Thomas Newman HONORABLE MENTION: Australia, Burn After Reading, Changeling, In Bruges, I’ve Loved You So Long, Kung Fu Panda, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, Revolutionary Road, Speed Racer, The Visitor, Waltz with Bashir, The X-Files: I Want to Believe Best Original Song: High School Musical 3: Senior Year - "I Want It All" - Matthew Gerrard & Robbie Nevil Slumdog Millionaire - "Jai Ho" - Gulzar & A.R. Rahman Synecdoche, New York - "Little Person" - Jon Brion & Charlie Kaufman WALL-E - "Down to Earth" - Peter Gabriel & Thomas Newman The Wrestler - "The Wrestler" - Bruce Springsteen HONORABLE MENTION: Australia - “By the Boab Tree”; Bolt - “Barking at the Moon”; Cadillac Records - “Once in a Lifetime”; High School Musical 3: Senior Year - “High School Musical”; High School Musical 3: Senior Year - “A Night to Remember”; My Blueberry Nights - “The Story”; Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist - “Ottoman”; Sex and the City - “All Dressed in Love”; Slumdog Millionaire - “O Saya”; Trouble the Water - “Trouble the Water”; Twilight - “I Caught Myself” Best Art Direction: Australia - Beverly Dunn & Catherine Martin Changeling - Gary Fettis & James J. Murakami The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - Donald Graham Burt & Victor J. Zolfo Revolutionary Road - Debra Schutt & Kristi Zea Synecdoche, New York - Mark Friedberg & Lydia Marks HONORABLE MENTION: Burn After Reading, The Counterfeiters, The Dark Knight, Frost/Nixon, Hellboy II: The Golden Army, High School Musical 3: Senior Year, Iron Man, Milk, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, Pineapple Express, Sex and the City, Slumdog Millionaire, Speed Racer, Vicky Cristina Barcelona Best Costume Design: Australia - Catherine Martin The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - Jacqueline West Milk - Danny Glicker Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day - Michael O'Connor Sex and the City - Patricia Field HONORABLE MENTION: Burn After Reading, Cadillac Records, Changeling, The Counterfeiters, The Dark Knight, Doubt, Frost/Nixon, Happy-Go-Lucky, Hellboy II: The Golden Army, Iron Man, Revolutionary Road, Slumdog Millionaire, Speed Racer, Synecdoche New York, W., The Wrestler Best Makeup: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button The Dark Knight Frost/Nixon Hunger The Wrestler HONORABLE MENTION: Cadillac Records, Hellboy II: The Golden Army, Iron Man, Let the Right One In, Milk, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, Saw V, Sex and the City, Slumdog Millionaire, Speed Racer, Synecdoche New York, Tropic Thunder, Twilight, W. Best Sound Mixing: The Dark Knight Iron Man Pineapple Express Speed Racer WALL-E HONORABLE MENTION: Australia, Cadillac Records, Cloverfield, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Get Smart, Hellboy II: The Golden Army, High School Musical 3: Senior Year, The Incredible Hulk, Kung Fu Panda, Let the Right One In, Mamma Mia!, Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist, Slumdog Millionaire, Tropic Thunder, The Wrestler Best Sound Editing: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button The Dark Knight Iron Man Speed Racer WALL-E HONORABLE MENTION: Australia, Cloverfield, Get Smart, Hellboy II: The Golden Army, The Incredible Hulk, Kung Fu Panda, Pineapple Express, Saw V, Slumdog Millionaire, Tropic Thunder, The Wrestler, The X-Files: I Want to Believe Best Visual Effects: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button The Dark Knight Hellboy II: The Golden Army Iron Man Speed Racer HONORABLE MENTION: Australia, Cloverfield, Eagle Eye, Get Smart, The Incredible Hulk, Tropic Thunder Best Foreign-Language Film: The Class - Laurent Cantet The Counterfeiters - Stefan Ruzowitzky I've Loved You So Long - Philippe Claudel Let the Right One In - Tomas Alfredson Waltz with Bashir - Ari Folman HONORABLE MENTION: JCVD Best Documentary: Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father - Kurt Kuenne Man on Wire - James Marsh Taxi to the Dark Side - Alex Gibney Trouble the Water - Carl Deal & Tia Lessin Young@Heart - Stephen Walker Honorable Mention: HONORABLE MENTION: Bigger Stronger Fast, Encounters at the End of the World, Religulous, Standard Operating Procedure, Waltz with Bashir Best Animated Film: Bolt - Byron Howard & Chris Williams Dr. Seuss' Horton Hears a Who - Jimmy Hayward & Steve Martino Kung Fu Panda - Mark Osborne & John Stevenson WALL-E - Andrew Stanton Waltz with Bashir - Ari Folman Every 2008 Film I've Seen: Ranked

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peakyxshelby · 7 years

Text

You saw him

Michael Gray x Reader

Prompts: 20: “ Please don’t hurt me like this. ”

31: “ I fucked up. ”

A/N: I know this is different and I’m sorry if you guys don’t like the style. Let me know.

The first time you saw Michael Gray was the best and worst day of your life. Little did you know that this man would shape you into the person you are today. He was and still is a big part of your life.

You were bored out of your mind, sitting on the bar stool in the garrison, swinging your legs and humming to yourself. Your uncle Harry worked at the pub and you came into clean before it opened up for the day. You had met the owner a couple of times, Arthur. He was pleasant and always very kind to you, tipping you know and then. But apart from that, you had never met the Shelby’s. Harry kept you as far away as possible, you were always gone or out of sight when they were around. Sure you’d seen them, but never spoken to them even though you worked cleaning up their mess since you were 13. You had finished cleaning for the day but harry hadn’t come to open up so you stuck around. You poured yourself a glass of whiskey and sat swirling it around the glass sipping it slowly treasuring the burn it left as it slid down your throat. The door flew open quickly and you flinched at the shock. When you turned around, to your surprise, you saw six well-dressed men and not harry. You jumped off the stool and as you did you knocked the glass on its side. The whiskey-soaked your skirt as you stared down at the mess you made.

“Shit,” you said blankly trying to wipe away some of the liquid that hadn’t absorbed into the fabric.

You heard a chuckle as Arthur approached you.

“Try not to get drunk on the job now,” he chuckled coming up to you as the other men went into the private room.

“I didn’t know you had people coming in, I’ll get heading home now.” You smile sweetly at him as he puts his arm out preventing you from leaving.

“I need you to stay, Harry will be late and we have guests coming.” You consider what he was saying. Harry didn’t want you here with them you knew that and when ‘guests’ came you normally had a lot to clean up the next day, blood included. You nodded sweetly making your way behind the bar. “Bucket of beer, a bottle of whiskey and glasses please my dear,” he sings walking to meet the others. You take a deep breath before getting out a tray and a bottle.

“You need a hand?” you heard a voice say. One you didn’t recognise. You look up to see a young man in front of you. He was innocent looking, purer than the others and you had never seen him before.

“That would be great, thank you.” you slide him the tray whilst continuing to get the bucket of beer. You knew you weren’t supposed to talk to him but he was intriguing. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Just moves up, moved in with my mum and cousins.” he said staring at you intently as you put the glasses on the tray.

“Oh where you from?”

“Nowhere important, you from around here?”

“Born and bread,” you laugh as you swing the bucket up onto the counter.

“Maybe you know, you could like… show me around or something.” You stop what you’re doing for a second staring at him as a smile spreads across your face. He looks nervous scratching at the back of his neck.

“Oh you’re so cliche,” you laugh at him slightly. His cheeks flushed red and he was clearly embarrassed.

“Forget it,” he huffs trying to grab the tray but you grab the other side of the tray not letting him take it.

“No, I’ll show you around. But of you ask me properly.”

“What? I did ask you?” he asks confused.

“Ask me if I’d like to go out with you.”

“Like a date?”

“I don’t know, you’re asking,” you chuckle again clearly confusing him.

“Fine but first I need to know your name.”

“I’m (Y/N), and you?”

“Michael.” You hold your hand out to shake his but he takes yours and kisses the back of it lightly.

“So (Y/N), will you go on a date around Small Heath with me?”

“Michael, I’d love to.”

The time you’d hoped would be the last time you saw Michael almost broke you. Three years after the first run in. You were in love. Or at least you thought you were.

“Michael…”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry,” he croaked his voice barely audible. He was sitting at the kitchen table in the house you had moved into two years earlier. The bags under his eyes carried the weight of heavy guilt. His skin was pale and his hands fidgeted around the table. He couldn’t look at you.

“Michael I can’t hear this.” You were nervous, he had gone out with his cousins the last three nights. He had barely been home and when you had seen him he was so drunk he couldn’t even spell his own name. He’d changed, that was for sure. He was morphing into his cousin Tommy, you weren’t opposed to this change because you loved him all the same. But it scared you. You didn’t want it to change the way he felt about you. He assured you every day he loved you and he loved only you but you were unconvinced and your nightmares were coming true.

“I was drunk, I don’t remember a thing…”

“Please don’t hurt me like this,” you whisper clutching onto either side of the chair as your breathing began to speed up.

“I… I slept with her.”

Nothing.

Silence.

“(Y/N) please.... Please say something,” he pleaded with you. The tears that had been storing up spilled over as he tried to reach across the table to you.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you spit at him. All you felt was rage. You gave up everything for this man and he ruined it.

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t lie to me!” You shout, standing up from your chair.

“Maria Smith.”

“Ha!” you genuinely laughed at the name. “The whore all your cousins pass around. Really needed that to seal the approval of your precious Tommy!”

“(Y/N) it’s not like that and you know it.”

“I know it? I don’t know anything about you, you aren’t the man I fell in love with!” you finally let the tears spill as you slumped back down into your chair. H got up running to your side to comfort you but you shook your head when he reached out for you. “Get out Michael.”

“I’m not leaving you like this.”

“You have no right to stay,” you whisper, sniffling as you try to compose yourself.

“(Y/N).”

“A day Michael, you can come back in a day.”

You weren’t there when he came back, there wasn’t a trace of you left in that house when he came back.

The last time you saw Michael, the strangest of the three. You had moved away, got a job and settled down. Three years later again. you were living a normal life in a normal village. You were a trained nurse now and you got a letter through the door asking you to transfer hospitals. You almost choked when you saw “Birmingham” written on the letter. But the pay was too good to refuse and you felt you could maybe keep a low profile.

‘Male, Arthur Shelby, Multiple physical Injuries’ You laughed when the doctor handed you your patients documents. Earning you a strange look from the doctor himself. You had been here a few months and had barely heard anything about the Shelby’s, secretly you were excited to see Arthur again.

“Arthur bloody Shelby,” you chuckle walking into the room and making your way over to his bed. “Right let’s have a look at you.”

“(Y/N)?” he asks confused, flinching in pain as you move one of his arms to check out his ribs. “When did you become a nurse?”

“Couple years ago, now everything is healing fine as it should be. We will be keeping you in for a couple more days because of the head injury though.”

“Where the hell have you been? How are you anyway?” Arthur asks completely ignoring what you had just said.

“Brighton. Fine, it’s not quite as exciting down there don’t get to see as much of this,” you laugh pointing at the black eye Arthur was sporting.

“Bloody hell, you have grown up. Can’t believe you’re a bloody nurse now, in my head your still 15.”

“How you getting on Arthur?” You hear another familiar voice shout coming into the room.

“Visiting is between ten and four you,” you call turning around to face the man. You froze. Michael, of all bloody people who could be bursting into, see Arthur. Michael had stopped in his tracks too, his jaw pretty much hitting the floor.

“Anyway Arthur,” you start, turning back around to him. “I’ll be back every couple of hours to check everything’s OK.” He nodded at you knowing fine well what was happening. You could see a little smirk pull across his face seeing you and Michael so awkward.

“(Y/N)...”

“Nice to see you both,” you smile politely as you make your way out the door.

As you made your way out of the hospital when your shift was finished you saw Michael standing at the door. You took a deep breath and walked out, right past him like you didn’t even see him.

“Wit!” You hear a voice behind your call. HIs voice. That damn voice.

“Michael, I didn’t see you there,” you lied trying to act as calm as possible.

“You look… You look amazing,” you blushed looking at the floor not letting him see his effect on you. “How are you anyway? When did you start your nursing?”

“I’m fine, yes, and a couple years ago thought I may as well.”

“I’m so glad,” he sounded genuine just smiling at you with his goofiest smile. “Bloody hell.” It fell silent again both of you just shuffling your feet. “Where did you go?”

“Brighton, lots of opportunities down there.”

“I looked everywhere for you,” he laughed, a sad laugh at that. “Until someone pointed out to me you didn’t want to be found.”

“I best be off, lovely seeing you.”

“(Y/N) Wait,” he called, grabbing your wrist trying to stop you from leaving. As you looked down you saw the ring on his finger. You swallow hard. You were over it, at least that’s what you told yourself. But you never thought he’d be married.

“Who’s the lucky lady the?” You ask. He immediately drops his hand putting it behind his back so you couldn’t see it. A pointless action as you had already clocked it.

“Well, eh… Maria Smith.” Your heart sank. You felt your blood turn cold and your heart starts racing. Everything you felt three years ago had just been shoved back in your face.

“Lovely,” you sight. Ou swallow down the lump in your throat hard. “I hope you two are very happy.”

“Oh come on (Y/N), You know I'm not. I only married her because I knocked her up.”

“You… you what?” You started to cry. Fuck it. You couldn’t keep it together anymore. 5 years ago Michael had forced you to get an abortion you didn’t particularly want and has now married the woman he knocked up.

“It died.” He said blankly. “Stillbirth, nothing anyone could do.” It fell silent again all that could be heard was your sniffles and his deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you back for good?”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“(Y/N) Please…”

“I think it’s best we end this conversation.

I fucked up!” he screamed, catching you off guard slightly. He took a deep breath calming himself down before he started again. “I fucked up, I know I did and I’m sorry. I really am. I haven’t laughed since you left, I haven’t been happy since you left town. A year I looked for you, begged people to tell me where you were. Nearly lost my bloody mind. I just… Can you please just speak to me?”

You shook your head. The man was broken, but looking in his eyes you saw yourself three years ago. He needed t learn his lesson and now was the time.

“Goodbye Michael.”

And that was the last time you saw Michael Gray. You don’t know if you’ll ever see him again.

#michael gray #michael gray imagine #michael shelby #michael shelby imagine #michael gray x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders images #peaky blinders imagines

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Male winged Fae x reader (nsfw)

Some of you may not have noticed the new addition for the higher tiers of my Patreon, but if you're on the Elves tier or above, you are automatically entered once a month into a prize draw for a 3k word story of your choosing.

This month, the lovely Jackal of Hearts won, and asked for our boy Ahrin from Winter Solstice (currently undergoing a re-edit) with a neutral reader, and added that nsfw is always fun. We had a discussion about Ahrin's story because dear Jackal didn't want to spoil anything for Winter Solstice, and knew that I had plans to reveal what happened to him and his once-lovely wings during the course of the story. We decided to go for a 'pre-Winter-Solstice' setting, when Ahrin is still with the Court of Shadows, and meets his reader at the Court of Fire during a diplomatic visit.

There are a few crumbs dropped in here for Winter Solstice too, and a cameo or two, but mostly it's the story of two people connecting in an unlikely situation and making the best of it.

Hope you enjoy! It’s been up on Patreon for about a week now, so it’s time to share it here.

Winter Solstice (undergoing re-edit, but story remains the same) can be found here: Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw) (All Tumblr links)

(reminder that in March, existing patrons will not be charged, and I do not plan to put out any new content for that month, but new patrons will still be charged for that month because that’s how Patreon works. Access to all my existing content will not be affected though!)

Enough waffle; more story! Wordcount: 5248

The Court of Fire turned out to be almost the opposite to what you’d expected. You’d imagined flame-blasted heaths with twisted stumps of heather curling like blackened fingers towards a sky choked with smoke, ash falling like tainted snow, basalt-dark rock and rivers of burning oil, with a cruel, volatile, fickle court of Fae to rule over the desolate kingdom. So when, at a mere eighteen years old, you had been led through a tear in the Veil between the worlds, quivering and trembling, with tears stinging on your cheeks, you had been surprised to discover a rich, verdant landscape, with fertile black soil as far as the eye could see.

Your second shock had come when a small party had crested the blustery promontory where the way through Veil was marked by two colossal standing stones, and you’d seen a group of riders approaching. The creatures they sat were nothing like horses. The lizards were as big as oxen, with wide, muscular bodies, slung low to the ground and with wicked, sickle-shaped claws and a spined tail.

Three of them drew to a halt at a short distance from where you stood beside the older woman who had been sent to fetch you as payment for a bargain made years ago by your parents. You had known about their bargain and had been prepared for this moment your entire life, and yet fear still coursed through you now that you were actually here in the Fae Realm.

Your guide leaned to speak in your ear, her ash grey hair whipping in the strong breeze, and whispered, “The High Prince himself has come to welcome you. Kneel as I do, and do not speak unless asked a direct question.”

Trembling, you sank to one knee and bowed your head as she did. The prince did not get down from his mount, but someone else did. Striding towards you, they addressed the woman beside you. “Is this the human that was promised to Lord Rhaziel?” The voice that spoke sounded male, and immensely frustrated.

“Yes, m’lord,” the woman said, nodding.

“Can you ride?” the Fae barked, and you realised that the question was directed at you. Risking a glance up, you took in the sight of the tall Fae and swallowed thickly. You’d heard that the Fae were enchantingly beautiful, but now that you had the opportunity to prove that theory in person, it was infinitely more intimidating than you’d realised. His skin was a deep, warm brown, and his long hair was tied back off his face and hung down his back in thick ropes, studded here and there with gold and amber beads. His eyes burned a bright gold, and you looked away almost instantly, afraid that he would take offence at your boldness.

You shook your head. You’d never been on a horse - let alone a giant lizard - a day in your life.

He sighed in frustration and said, “You will ride with me. Come.”

And with that he turned on his heel, the black and red robes of his courtly garb swirling slightly with the motion, and strode back towards a dark grey lizard who was eyeing him carefully. The older woman did not follow, but she did rise to her feet again. She, apparently, would walk with the rest of the guards surrounding the party.

As you passed him, you risked a glance at the Fae who sat at the head of the small group of reptilian mounts, and again saw nothing but beauty. He was talking with another rider who looked almost exactly like him, perhaps a little taller. The two of them were clearly related; probably brothers. With long, thick, red hair half tied back off porcelain faces, and bright gold eyes, they laughed jovially as if sharing a private joke, and even when the leader - who wore a golden crown of dancing flames studded with rubies - looked towards you, the laughter did not die in his face.

He bowed his head ever so slightly at you in acknowledgement, and his smile broadened a touch more. Above the high collar of his red and gold tunic you glimpsed a dark sigil etched into his skin and wondered what the tattoo meant. You offered him a shy smile, averted your eyes, and hurried to join the first Fae as he stood beside his lizard, looking impatient and thunderous. He said nothing as you joined him, but when you made no move to get on the frankly terrifying, constantly rumbling beast, he rolled his eyes and snapped, “Put your left foot in the stirrup and swing yourself up. I will sit behind you.”

“Oh…” you croaked. “Alright…”

The journey seemed interminable through the dense jungle that surrounded the base of the basalt outcrop where the portal between the realms sat. Your mount was third in the line, behind the High Prince and his brother, and the movement of the thing was enough to make you feel slightly seasick. Eventually the landscape dropped away to one side and you gasped as you saw a rocky ledge plunge down into an apparently unending sea of golden sand. At the foot of the dark cliffs was a wide, winding river, but beyond that, it seemed as though all life just… ended.

On the edge of the cliff ahead, with the wing which had some of the highest spires partly extending out into the empty air, a huge castle had been built. Even in the light of the midday sun you could see that the windows were glazed with red, gold and orange glass so that it looked almost as if the buildings were all aflame inside. The sight of it made you shudder, but the rider behind you gave no words of encouragement, and by the time the party drew to a halt in the colossal bailey of the castle, you were almost dizzy with fear.

At the party’s arrival, a small slew of attendants immediately scuttled out like ants from a kicked nest, and you noticed what looked like a wheeled throne being pushed easily towards the High Prince. You tried not to stare as you slid to the ground and turned to watch as his winged bodyguard stepped forwards, not to lift him down but merely to offer his shoulder for the Prince to brace against. He lowered his body down into the chair from his saddle with what had to be immense upper body strength while his legs dangled unmoving below. Once settled, he adjusted his weight and then caught you looking. You flushed, embarrassed by your curiosity, but instead of being reprimanded, you found that all he offered you was a wide, toothy - almost cheeky - grin before he pushed away towards the castle doors.

The Fae whose mount you’d shared was named Narrawaed, or Narra for short, and he turned out to be the personal bodyguard and attendant of the Fae two whom you had been promised in service, Lord Rhaziel. Despite your fears, you soon discovered that all you were required to do was assist the elderly Fae with his reading and academic studies, and after a year in his service, you came to regard him almost more like an uncle than a master.

Lord Rhaziel was the High Prince’s own uncle, and a trusted adviser at the court, so you ended up being able to attend a lot of the gatherings and events that the Court of Fire held at various times of the year. On one such occasion, the impending visit from a noble from the Court of Shadows prompted preparations for a lavish party, although the primary reason for their visit was diplomatic.

Rhaziel broke off from his research on the effects of lava-gnat venom on nerve pain one afternoon and looked up at you, blinking softly. For a Fae to look old, they must really be extremely elderly you knew by now. Rhaziel’s hair was white and a little wispy, tied back in the current courtly fashion and secured with a comb adorned with flames to mark his royal blood. His eyes had faded to a delicate pale gold now as his own magic faded. Apparently - if the extensive tattooing all over his neck and down to his hands was anything to go by (though the rest was hidden by his thick, silk robes and high collar) - he had been extremely powerful in his day. The tattoos helped to contain a Fae’s magic to prevent those with potent power from losing control. The High Prince, Jaehrin, was apparently the only person ever to have had more tattoos than Rhaziel did.

“Come, child,” Rhaziel croaked, pushing his chair back from his paper-strewn desk and easing himself to his feet. “Let us go and see how the preparations for tonight’s festivities are going.”

You nodded, not minding any longer that he still called you ‘child’. To him, you really must have seemed very young, you supposed, although you had been there for over a year now and were an adult by human standards. He meant it affectionately, and his eyes always twinkled kindly when he met your gaze.

You extended your arm to him and he took it willingly, using his silver-tipped walking stick in his other hand. His papery skin was flecked with age spots but his grip was firm, and the two of you made your way with familiar ease through the shadowy passages of the castle from his study towards the great hall.

The doors stood open and you gasped as you regarded the hangings that had been draped from the centre of the ceiling to railings on the walls and then allowed to fall in a waterfall of red and gold silk to the floor. It reminded you so viscerally of the maypole decorations in the village back home that it stole your breath away as you stared. You had been so transfixed by the sight of them that you hadn’t noticed that there was a small group of Fae in the centre of the room, and that their conversation had sputtered to a halt at your arrival. More likely it was at the arrival of the distinguished royal elder than you, of course, you realised as you turned to find them all staring.

“Shall we introduce ourselves then?” Rhaziel asked with a slight wink. “They look a bit star struck. I wonder if they’ve ever met a human before?”

You rolled your eyes, used to his teasing manners, and accompanied him closer to the strange group who were, you now saw, talking with the High Prince and his younger brother and sister.

Not all of them looked like the more ‘human’ High Fae; one was simply a writhing mass of shadows that constantly shifted and changed shape like ink in a stirred glass of water, and their voice was nothing more than a rasping of claws on stone as they spoke. Standing beside them was the High Prince’s bodyguard - and, some said, his lover - Garrad. The huge, hulking fae bore the sigil of an Ember Warrior, emblazoned across his otherwise unadorned tunic, and he stood on avian feet with enormous, black wings outstretched behind him.

A figure who looked a little like him - if only for the enormous pair of bat-like wings - was unfamiliar to you. His skin gleamed, warm and richly brown as if he spent a lot of time in the sun, and his face was sharply handsome and bore a rough-hewn kind of strength to his features. As his whisky coloured eyes landed on your face, they sharpened with interest, and his full lips murmured, “A human?”

Jaehrin laughed from his position in his wheelchair and said, “Yes. I have one or two in my court, Lord Ahrin.”

Ahrin flushed and bowed his head. “Forgive me for staring, Your Highness.” In apology, he tucked his heavy wings in tight and bowed his head. As he did so, his shoulder-length, brown hair fell into his eyes and he swept it back with a strong-looking hand. For some reason the sight of that simple gesture awoke something that had been dormant in you since coming to the Fae Realm, but you hid your reaction well while Lord Rhaziel was introduced to the remainder of the party from the Court of Shadows.

“I shan’t keep you,” the elderly Fae chuckled once everyone had been introduced. “I just wanted to come and see what was going on.” He turned to you and hissed in a conspiratorial stage-whisper, “I do still love a good party, even after all these years.”

His smile was infectious, and you laughed softly. The sound appeared to attract Ahrin’s attention again, but when you looked over at him, he had turned his head away and was speaking to one of the dignitaries from this court, a creature made seemingly of living rock who had always made you a little uneasy, like a statue come to life.

It wasn’t until the ball that evening that you saw Ahrin again.

You and Rhaziel were sitting at the side of the room on a deep, comfortable sofa, watching the nobility from both courts - and from one or two others, if Rhaziel’s comments were accurate. “That young lady is from the Court of Winter,” he said, indicating a beautiful blonde who was currently swirling around the dance floor in the arms of one of Jaehrin’s brothers. “Her adoptive brother is a terrible snob,” he added with a scoff. “Awful young man. Reserved to the point of rudeness, and a spoilt little brat if you ask me. The younger twins are delightful though… Finwe and Caedwyn…” his eyes misted over a little as he clearly thought fondly of the two younger princes of the Court of Winter.

“When did you last see them?” you asked politely.

“What? Oh… must be twenty years ago now. Oh look!” he exclaimed, suddenly digging you playfully in the ribs with a sharp elbow, and he nodded in the direction of the dance floor. “I thought someone was rather interested in you before.”

“What?” you chirped, confused, turning your head to see Ahrin smiling at you as he approached.

With what could only be described as a gleeful little cackle, Rhaziel dug you in the ribs once more and hissed, “If he asks you to dance, I expect you to say yes…”

You meddling old man, you thought amusedly. “Alright.”

Courteously greeting Lord Rhaziel first, Ahrin bowed low from the waist, glorious wings tucked as neatly out of the way as he could manage. Around the hook-like talons, the ‘thumbs’ of his bat-like wings, he wore an engraved, golden cuff, and his shoulder-length hair was half tied back and studded with small, spherical gold beads that picked up the colour of his eyes perfectly.

“My Lord,” he purred quietly to Rhaziel. “I hope you are enjoying the evening.”

Rhaziel shot you a sidelong look and snorted. “Not as much as I think you’d enjoy yourself if you were to ask my assistant to dance…”

Ahrin’s cheeks flushed attractively and he laughed. “Indeed.”

He turned to you and you swallowed nervously. Humans were not particularly numerous in the Court of Fire, and while you’d been treated with respect, as both the subject of an honoured bargain and the servant of one of the most powerful Fae in the Court, you weren’t exactly of any social standing.

“Would you me the honour of sharing this dance with me?” he asked, voice deep and gravelly. Ahrin bowed low again, and a dark, swirling mist began to coil around his polished boots and his wings, like morning frost evaporating in the sunlight.

Rhaziel leaned across and hissed in your ear, “I think he’s nervous. Put the poor boy out of his misery, eh?”

Unable to keep from chuckling, you nodded. “I’d love that. Thank you, Lord Ahrin.”

“Please,” he said as he straightened. “It’s just Ahrin.”

You took his hand and tried not to go weak at the knees when you felt the rough strength of his callused fingers. Gently, he drew you towards the dance floor as a new tune started from the minstrels’ gallery, and he began to lead you in the quick, energetic dance that followed. He held you firmly but not uncomfortably, one hand on your waist and one gripping your hand, as the two of you practically galloped along the length of the room. His wings didn’t seem to get in the way at all, and he must have been extremely fit because where the exertion left you flushed and breathing hard, he was barely winded.

Ahrin’s handsome face split into a broad, beaming grin and his eyes laughed too as he spun you around at the end and finally came to a halt in one corner as the rest of the room paused to catch their breath and applaud the musicians. “That was a tricky one!” he exclaimed. “I should have known they’d play that here! You did well though; did you learn our dances here?”

You nodded. “Lord Rhaziel insisted that I learn in case he fancied a turn on the dance floor, apparently, though he’s never expressed any interest himself in all the time I’ve been here.”

“Well,” Ahrin smiled, “I’m certainly glad he had you taught.” A moment later his expression turned a little thoughtful and he asked, “How long have you been here?”

You shrugged, following him as he led you towards the colonnade at the edge of the great hall which looked out over a balcony on the edge of the cliff. Cool breezes wafted in, making the oil lamps gutter and flare, but the air was welcome after the perfume and closeness of the dance floor. “A little over a year.”

“You’ve adapted well. Prince Jaehrin’s court seems generally fair though,” he added, almost wistfully.

Feeling a little emboldened, mostly by the fact that he still held your hand as you walked side by side into the cool night, leaving the music and laughter behind, you decided to ask him a question in return. “You’re originally from the Court of Shadows yourself, right?” You eyed his dark wings pointedly, though you were curious because he didn’t appear to have the avian legs of a Shadowborne like Garrad.

He nodded, gaze turning distant as he stared out over the empty desert that stretched out below the castle on this side. “Mmm.” Offering you a cheeky wink, he added, “Royal bastard though, so I’m no one very important…”

“You must have been quite important to be asked to come along to this?”

“Touché,” he said. “I have some standing because of my blood, but no authority really. I’m more of an ambassador when Naeryn is busy.”

“Naeryn?”

“Prince of the Court of Shadows,” he said. “I’ve always liked it here though. Jaehrin’s…” he sighed. “He’s good.” The way he imbued the word with real significance made you nod in agreement. From what you knew of the High Prince of the Court of Fire, he was indeed good. Quick to laugh and quick to forget his anger, strong with his magic and generous with his friends, he seemed quite unlike anything you’d been led to believe was possible from the Fae. You had, of course, had some run-ins with one or two nastier Fae folk, but Rhaziel’s influence largely kept them at bay.

You looked up to find that Ahrin had gone from watching the view to staring at you, eyes dark as honey now. “What?”

He smiled. “I can see you weren’t expecting us to be like this when you first heard about the Fae…”

Shaking your head, you said, “No. And I’m sure that if I wasn’t attached to Rhaziel in some way, my experience might have been a bit different. I’ve seen the other humans here who prepare the food in the kitchens and work the gardens. Their life is harder than mine by far.”

“But they’re still paid for their work, and treated fairly,” he said bitterly. The sour note took you off guard and he elaborated. “In the Court of Shadows, it’s not so pleasant. What humans there are find themselves treated like livestock. Many of the creatures there feed their magic, their essence, on fear and darkness, and humans are so… emotional. They don’t last long.”

You shuddered, a thrill running down your spine and making your hair stand on end.

“I’m sorry,” Ahrin said. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“No,” you countered firmly. “I’d rather know how things are than be deluded…”

His attractive lips quirked into a soft smile. “I’ve not met a human like you,” he admitted. A refrain of music floated out on the air and he held out his hands again. “Another dance?”

Smiling, you accepted.

“How long are you here for?” you asked, somewhat breathless, half an hour or so later as the two of you still danced in private on the balcony.

His eyes were locked on your lips and for a moment he didn’t respond. “Hmm? Oh… a week. There’s the Equinox Ball coming up, and we leave after that.”

You’d almost forgotten about the significance of the Equinox Ball, which marked the turning point of the year where the Seelie and Unseelie Royals - who ruled over all of the Courts - exchanged their power. They wouldn’t attend this ball themselves, of course, but it was still held to honour their leadership and to wish them good fortune and wise rulership for the next six months of the year. The Courts would each take their turn to host a ball, and this year it was the turn of the Court of Fire. The Shadow Court’s visit had been tied into that to discuss business between the two courts which, apparently, were not on the greatest terms despite Ahrin’s opinion of Jaehrin.

Ahrin stopped dancing and leaned a little closer to you, blinking slowly as if in a daze. He swallowed and you watched his Adam’s apple bob. “May… May I kiss you?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Yes,” you smiled and he returned the gesture.

He brought his fingertips to your chin and tilted it up so that he could look at you properly first. Sliding his palm up your jawline, savouring the shape of you beneath his touch, he smiled and whispered, “You’re stunning…”

Before you could respond, he kissed you.

His fingers tightened and he tangled them in your hair, heedless of the mess he might make of it by scrunching it all up. He tugged you into the kiss, deepening it with a groan and you watched his wings slowly flex open, as if trying to shut out all the world around you.

Breathless, he pulled back a moment or two later and you saw how his golden eyes glowed, bright and glassy. His throat worked again as he swallowed and he blinked. “Save a dance for me at the Equinox Ball?” he murmured, thumbing a line across your cheekbone.

“As many as you like,” you laughed.

Ahrin’s answering deep, earthy laugh made the warmth inside you bloom to something fierce, but before he could kiss you again, someone called his name and he winced, wings tucking. “I… I have to go,” he said. “It’s one of the Prince’s advisers. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you said, still feeling like you were floating. “Go.”

“At the Equinox Ball,” he promised, kissing your knuckles as he left.

You watched him go and turned back to the balcony and the desert below, heart pounding. Maybe it wouldn’t go anywhere beyond the ball, but you could enjoy it while it lasted, surely. Perhaps when Rhaziel decided he no longer needed you, you could go to the Court of Shadows and… Shaking your head, you instantly recalled what he’d said about how humans were treated there. No, that wasn’t something you could endure.

The sadness that pervaded your thoughts that week - even when you saw Ahrin around the palace from time to time - seeped deep into your bones. You played it off as just tiredness to Rhaziel, but when Ahrin swirled you round the dance floor for the second time at the Equinox Ball, he frowned, his thick, sculpted brows knitting, his eyes dark. “What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately sweeping you out of the dance and onto the balcony again. This time you didn’t have it to yourselves, but as he led you to the far end, you might as well have been alone.

“What’s troubling you so much?” he pressed, lifting your chin the way he had done the week before. This time, no kiss followed, only kindness.

You tried to put on a brave face, but his eyes were so earnest that you had to tell him the truth. “It’s so childish,” you hissed, half turning away.

Ahrin caught your hand up in his as you moved and squeezed. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

Taking a steadying breath, you said, “I think I’m enjoying this too much.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” he asked, confused.

You nodded. “You’re going back tomorrow, and I’m staying here. I can’t go with you.”

Ahrin’s expression shattered, and you realised that he hadn’t even thought of that. “I… I can… I could come and visit you,” he ventured, though even as he said it, you both knew it couldn’t happen.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you said gently. “It’s alright… You’re probably destined for more than me anyway.”

He growled, low and deep as a wolf, and you jumped in surprise. His wings flexed behind him, like a swan preparing to beat the absolute crap out of someone, and you began to giggle at the thought. “What?” he snarled.

“Easy,” you said, still chuckling. “Let’s just make the most of tonight then.”

His warm eyes went wide and he leaned forward, seizing your face and drawing you into a passionate kiss that left you dizzy. “Yes,” he said. “Come with me.”

Ahrin led you through the castle towards the guest wing, and none of the guards stopped you as you followed him into his private apartments. A fire was blazing in the grate, and spherical glass lamps had been lit all around the room, each one glowing like rubies in the sun. His quarters were lavish, but you had eyes only for him.

His jerkin was laced up the back to accommodate his wings, and he spread them wide for you to undo it in a gesture that struck you as incredibly intimate. He shivered as you brushed your fingertips against the ‘shoulders’ of his wings where they melted from dark, leathery brown into the smooth skin of his tanned, muscular back. There wasn’t a mark or scar on his body, save for the odd freckle here and there, and as you let his jerkin fall to the ground, he turned carefully and you saw that the hunger in his eyes had grown.

Ahrin took his time undressing you, and when you stepped out of the last of your clothes, he let out a shaky breath, jaw slack, eyes glassy, his pupils blown wide. “Stunning,” he murmured, repeating his compliments from the last time as if in a kind of prayer. “You’re stunning,” he breathed.

He lingered, kissing down your neck and letting his fingers caress your hard nipples and his hands wander until you felt lax and pliant in his arms. Leading you to his bed, he laid you down and began to worship every exposed inch of you with his mouth and his hands, leaving you a gasping, shaking mess.

“You’re still… still wearing too much,” you managed to whimper when he’d brought you close to orgasm twice in a row.

With a wry grin, he nodded and shucked off the rest of his clothes, freeing his impressive, erect cock. Pre-come wept and beaded at the head and he took himself in his hand as he leaned over you on the bed, one knee on either side of your legs. Lowering himself down, he ground his body slowly against yours until you were both groaning and trembling.

“I want to mark you,” he growled, mouthing at your neck and collarbones as he picked up his speed. His wings stretched back behind him, occasionally twitching. His cock was slick against your hip as he rutted against you, covering you in his pre-come. “You’re already going to smell of me, but… can I…?” he asked, nipping you more forcefully.

You nodded, and he instantly closed his mouth to your collarbone, sucking a deep, dark bruise there. The moment he leaned back and admired his work, his wings extended wider than the width of his huge bed, and he moaned, “You look so good like that…”

“I’m yours, Ahrin,” you whimpered, shudderingly close to your own peak as he ground himself repeatedly against you. Your hands clutched at the sheets beneath you and you begged him to come as you bucked up against his weight. “Please… come over me…”

His eyes flared bright with magic and shadows began to coil around your legs as he lost his tight control on his powers. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, and as the gentle, velvety darkness wrapped around your senses, it felt like another caress. “I’m so close,” he whimpered as he worked himself rough and fast. “Fuck… I’m…” and a moment later his hips spasmed and he emptied himself all over your stomach.

Ahrin’s wings flared impossibly wide, the membrane becoming almost translucent as it stretched to its limits as he came with a bellow, mouth open, eyes rammed shut, head tipped back in ecstasy.

A moment later as you finally came as well, his strength failed him and his muscular supporting arm buckled. He toppled down on top of you and the two of you lay panting and twitching together for a long time.

When he finally caught his breath, he pushed himself up off you, groaning at the mess he’d made of both of you. He drew carefully back and got to his feet. From where you lay, dazed and spent on the bed, you watched as his wings sagged, as though the weight of them was finally too much for him after his earlier exertions, and observed how the tips dragged on the floor as he paced unsteadily over to an adjacent room and disappeared.

The sound of running water reached your ears not long afterwards, and he reemerged again, still naked, but a little cleaner, and carried your limp body towards the bath. Steam billowed into the air, fogging the mirror and condensing on his long, thick eyelashes like morning dew on blades of grass. He lowered you into the water of the enormous, black stone bath - which was more like a pool - and stepped in after you. With care and gentle attention, he washed you clean, lingering where you were still sensitive until you were arching up into his touch and hissing his name.

“Ahrin…”

“Mmm?”

“Make me come again?”

He kissed you and adjusted the movement of his hand a little, making you cry out, though the sound was muffled by his lips against yours.

“And again,” he said, kissing your neck and leaving another bruise not long after.

You moaned.

“And again,” he added, biting gently at your collarbone. “And… again…”