#i just spent WAY too much time on it but also couldn't
Text
Stuck with Me
Credit for gif goes to aaronwarner
James Beaufort x Reader
Synopsis: James and Reader are secretly dating. Elaine finds out and started to treat Reader terribly. Reader is an Ellington, sister to Elaine, twin to Alistair. When James finds out what Elaine had been doing, he does to comfort the reader.
Product of a series of requests that had explained similar scenarios.
warning: suggestive themes, but no details. Probably bad grammar and editing. I tried. Finished it in a rush before work. Will probably edit later.
-------
The two of them were honestly surprised that they had been able to keep their relationship a secret as long as they have. James and Y/N both went to a school where a majority of the students were too smart for their own good. Although, it wasn’t even the school that they were surprised about keeping the relationship from. It was their siblings. Y/N was not only a close and confiding friend to Lydia, but she was also an Ellington sibling. A twin to Alistair, older sibling to Elaine.
They were definitely trying to hide things from Elaine. If she were to find out, it would be the end of the world. At least for Elaine that is.
James and Y/N had wondered for some time on what would be the best way to keep this secret. It wasn't like they hated each other, so they couldn't use that. Y/N had in fact spent as much time around James as many others have. They had even considered fabricating a lie. Making up an event in which it would give the two no rhyme or reason not to hate each other.
But then they remember who one, they were related to, and two, who they were friends with. It would have been a difficult one to pull off, no less keep afloat. So the two continued to bounce ideas off of each other, and had finally decided to keep interactions around others to a minimum.
They give each other fleeting glances when passing each other in the hall. If they sit next to each other in a classroom or just anywhere that will allow them, an arm or leg are barely brushing against each other. When addressing each other, they say their names. No nicknames. No usage of ‘hey’ or anything else. Just their names. If they sit on a bench, James allows his arm to rest on the back of it. They continue their normal mannerisms, and maybe that's why no one has caught on just yet to their charades.
James and Y/N had the undivided attention of each other but in some way, they wanted more.
—
Y/N was walking Lydia when They bumped into James, Alistair, Wren and Cyril. The two girls stood shoulder to shoulder.
“I'm just saying. You guy are twins. Don't you have that mind thing that allows her to know what you're thinking? Or when you feel pain?” Cyril flicked Alistair in the forehead. Alistair had looked unamused, but Y/N felt otherwise. An amused smile graced her lips as she glanced momentarily at Lydia.
“Ow.” The monotone voice and stare of Alistair caused a small snicker to come from Y/N. The four boys jumped, caught off guard by their company. Y/N eyes flickered to James, flashing a smile before Cyril pulled her away from her spot next to Lydia.
“The girl of the house. Y/N, seriously. You guys don’t have that twin telepathy thing going on? Did you feel it when I flicked Alistair's forehead?” Y/N looked at him, then her brother.
“I didn't feel anything. Sure you used enough force behind it? It was really light. Like a feather.” Cyril dropped his jaw, not expecting the comeback. “It's okay Cyril. Some women like the light touch of a man.”
“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her like he was trying to read her.
James smirked as he looked at Y/N. She looked around the small group of people. Wren was waiting for an answer, one of which Alistair didn't want to hear. Lydia now looked just as amused as Y/N did. Then her eyes landed on James. He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking into a small smirk.
“I prefer not to tell.”
“Way to keep a man wondering.” Cyril drew Y/N's attention back to him.
“You're not really a man, Cyril. A boy, maybe. But a toddler fits the image better.” Cyril took a stagger back, a hand to his chest. “You wound me so.”
“Good. You can ask James and Lydia the same question.” James instantly shook his head.
“I don't know. Do you want me to flick your forehead and see if I can feel it?” James looked at his sister.
“Do you want me to flicker your forehead and see if I can feel it?” James flashed his sister a cheeky grin before turning back to Cyril.
“You can do it.” Cyril looked at Lydia, who glared at him, albeit playfully. He shook his head.
“I prefer life.”
“Good choice. Anyways, I'm off to class.” Lydia bid the group goodbye. Cyril, Wren, and Alistair were next to leave.
“Alistair!” Y/N called out to her brother. He looked back. “Don't let the toddler pester you too much. They can be pesky little buggers. Can't they?” He flashed her a smile at the same time Cyril turned back and flipped her the finger.
Once they were gone, Y/N turned to James. He was already smiling at her.
“Do you like soft touches?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, his smile turning to a smirk.
“Wouldn't you like to know.” His hands itched to touch her. James looked up and down the hallway, making sure no one was there before pulling her into an empty room.
He pushed her up against the wall. His hands entangled themselves in her hair. Y/N looked up at him, her fingers combing through his hair. She brushed his hair out of his face.
“Playing a dangerous game every second both of us are in here.” Y/N said.
“I had to have a few seconds with you.”
“Well since both of us are in here, kiss me already.” James pulled her to him, capturing her lips in a kiss. He took it slow, holding her against him. She put one arm around his neck, while her other hand moved up his shirt, settling on his waist. James sucked in a breath at the touch, before moving his lips from hers and up along her jaw.
“How’s this for soft touches?” He whispered.
“Mm. Too soft.” James pulled back enough to look into her face. Y/N smirked at him. A low rumble could be heard on his throat, as he captured her lips into a searing kiss, pushing her further against the wall.
And when they finally left the room, little did they know that someone watched them exit minutes later, both looking slightly disheveled, and exchanging a few chaste kisses in what they thought to be a quiet and empty hallway, before going their own way.
—
Over the course of the next few days, Y/N had received glares and mistreatment from some of the students on campus. James had tried talking to her about her sullen mood lately, but had gotten nothing. Lydia had even tried to talk to her, but Y/N wouldn't even talk to her about it.
And she felt bad, but going to a school where one person was always out to get the other, she didn't know who would believe her. Even if she knew that her boyfriend and best friend were the ones most likely to do just that.
So she received the mistreatment and said nothing. Most of it came from Elaine, her sister. The sneers, the ‘accidental’ bumps, the nasty comments. All from her own sister.
Y/N could make an assumption, as she watched her sister talk to James from the end of the hallway. Her sister brushed up against James, her hands moving his hair out of his face just as Y/N does in private. He had shrunk away from her, a slight look of discomfort on his face. She watched as James politely excused himself, before walking the opposite way from where Y/N was standing.
Elaine knew about James and Y/N, and now part of Maxton Hall did too.
She watched as Elaine stood for several seconds, watching James walk away, before she turned her head and caught Y/N watching her. Elaine sent her a sneer, before starting to walk towards her. Y/N waited for her and whatever kind of mistreatment that she would bring.
“Do you really think that someone like him could love someone like you?” She asked. Y/N stared at her.
“We are sisters Elaine. We have the same blood and genes.”
“He will be mine. James will forget about you, and he will come running to me when that happens.” Elaine had a smug look on her face as she spoke to Y/N. “It's expected Y/N. No one could or would ever love you.” Y/N knew at that moment that Elaine was also talking about herself. Elaine finally turned to walk away.
“Oh. And Y/N.” She stopped and turned. “We aren't sisters.” The last little bit of Y/N's heart crumbled as she watched Elaine walk away. Her hand reached into her pocket, and with shaky fingers, she got ahold of their chauffeur. Y/N wanted to leave.
—
Y/N had opted out of going to class, and hasn’t been in for several days. Their parents were away for business trips and even when they were home, she played it off that she was either sick or had a migraine, which wasn’t too hard to pull off. Alistair had brought home her homework. Lydia and James had also kept her in the loop about assignments, but other than that, she didn’t speak much to either of them.
Y/N had finally told Alistair what had been going on and how Elaine had been treating her. This also, therefore, had spilt the beans about Y/N’s and James' secret relationship. Y/N had thought that Alistair would have had an issue with it, just as Elaine did, but if anything, he was happy for his sister and best friend. Elaine wasn’t good for James anyway.
I told him
Y/N stared down at her phone, looking at her brother’s message to herself. She laid in bed, her face buried in the pillow, sullied with tears as she thought about the last few days and how she managed the situation. It was the wrong way to do so, and she knew it. James and Lydia should have been told, instead of being ignored in the way that they were currently.
She deserved to be hated. They had every right to be bad at her. Instead, they were the opposite.
Lydia had also messaged her, being gentle about it, even if she was upset that Y/N felt that she couldn’t go to her about Elaine. Lydia never liked her to begin with.
Then there was James.
He had only sent Y/N one message.
I’m on my way. J.M.B
She had smiled at his message, finally sending him one back.
<3 Your F/M/L initials
Y/N had only waited a little bit before James was bursting through her bedroom door. He stopped in the doorway.
“Y/N.” His eyes traveled over her face, taking in the appearance of her tear stained face. “Oh love.” James hurried over to the bed, kneeling down on the floor. He brought her face into his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away any tears on her face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t know who would believe me.”
“I would have. You know that.” He said. James searched her eyes, seeing nothing but pain and regret. “How long?” He asked. Y/N swallowed thickly, averting her eyes and face away from him. He grabbed her chin with his hand, moving her face so that she looked at him again. “How long, Y/N?”
She stared at him for several seconds, before looking at his neck, avoiding eye contact.
“A week. More or less.” Her voice broke, remembering how she was treated. It would have been different had it not been her sister that treated her in the way that she did. But it wasn’t different, and it was her sister, so there was no changing it. Y/N sat up on her bed, her legs hanging over the side. James grabbed her hands, holding them in his own. He brought them up to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
“What did she do?” He asked. Y/N pulled her hands away from his, rubbing her eyes. James settled his hands on her thighs, rubbing his hands up and down them to help soothe her nerves.
“The normal thing a bully does. Sneers. Snide comments. Bumping into them. Shoved me in private, degraded me here at home…” She trailed off, her hands settling on her thighs next to his own. James grabbed her hands again, rubbing his thumbs against her knuckles as he listened to her.
“Is there something else?” She was silent for several moments, trying to find a way to phrase it.
“I shouldn’t let this bother me because I really don’t like her right now, but she told me that we weren’t sisters.” James stared at her in silence for several moments. She stared at anything but him, feeling small in the current situation. “Also told me that she would have you at some point. That you would basically grow tired of me and go to her to give you what I can’t.” she mumbled softly.
“And what can’t you give me?” he asked. “Because you have given me all that I need and more.” James reassured her. He stood up, settled his hands on her cheeks, and brought her into a searing kiss, before pushing her back on the bed.
“What are you doing James?” she asked, staring up at him, confused.
“I’m going to show you how much I appreciate you.” He pushed the blankets off of her. “How much you make me happy.” James looped his fingers in the shorts and panties she wore for sleeping, pulling them down. “That there is no other woman I want other than you.” James pushed her shirt up slightly, laid on the bed, and began pressing kisses to her stomach, moving down. Soft kisses were pressed to her navel, and then on the inside of her thighs. His eyes never left hers, wanting to take in her appearance as he showed her just how much he loved her. One arm looped around one of her thighs, while the other searched for her hand. Her fingers looped with his. “You’re stuck with me, sweetheart.”
-----
taglist: @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187
137 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm kicking my feet I love your oc Vernon! Let me pry though: have Vernon and AM ever kissed, or will they ever kiss? Also does AM enjoy the sensation of Vernon close to him or when she touches him, like in your art of her using him as an AC LOL
AAAAH Howdy howdy!! I'm so glad you like Vernon as I've worked real hard on her! Thank you so much for the ask! 💞💞 I will be answering these in reverse order!
VernonAM 🏺🖥️
Does AM enjoy the sensation of Vernon close to him/when she touches him?
I like to believe AM's come a long way with being touched. When he first transferred his consciousness over to his body, it was sensory overload. The WORST kind.
Everything was too loud, too quiet, he could smell EVERYTHING, everything was too hot, too cold, not hot enough, his mouth felt dry even with the saliva he had, how much it hurt feeling the air in his lungs, HE COULD FEEL HIS EYEBALLS IN HIS SKULL. It was like being born, it was awful. Like Nietzsche said; "To live is to suffer."
Vernon sat him down, trying to calm him since this is technically the first "human" she's seen after 109 years.
AM could feel every fold of his clothing rubbing against his skin, every microscopic fibre stabbing his skin. The residual warmth from Vernon touching him to sit him down so he wouldn't collapse caused AM to start screaming, sobbing.
Because he had no mouth (roll credits) prior to this, he didn't know how to use it to form words. He couldn't articulate what was wrong in his fit of screaming and tears.
And so his body went limp not 10 minutes after. He got out of there, telling Vernon that it's the closest thing he could compare to the torture he put on the other five. Vernon had to convince him to come back again or she'd tear the damn body apart and eat it.
It took months, baby steps of getting him adjusted in being a man. They spent weeks on smell, touch, and heat before they would even consider movement. It was tough on Vernon's end, smart as she is, she's a terrible teacher, asking AM to leave her alone for a few hours or days, lashing out when he's in such a vulnerable state.
But Vernon persisted, and finally AM got to hold her comfortably. Fast forward to now, AM has grown quite fond of the sensation of touch and touching things just for the sake of it. They could be sitting and he'd have it so their shoulders are touching.
AM is fond of Vernon's touch, that's the only time she's gentle (despite her words) with anything that might have the possibility of breaking. He enjoys her softness and warmth; How protective she is of him. AM can't articulate genuine care since his hatred for humanity is still there, but he's grateful, even despite his taunts.
Have AM and Vernon ever kissed? Will they ever kiss?
They kiss often, those two degenerates. It almost makes me jealous how often they kiss (D1 hater over here).
Vernon's technically kissed him before, just to get him comfortable, but it's never on the lips or near his face, usually his wrists and knuckles. Exposure therapy along with affection, basically. He didn't try to kiss her back until he was fully prepared to.
After fully adjusting to his new body, AM was finally able to kiss Vernon. He wasn't very good at it his first attempt. It was more similar to AM headbutting Vernon than an actual kiss.
Having a body gave way to a new emotion; embarrassment. Since he's now technically on the same level as her (in height as well, he's a lil dude) he was embarrassed that his first attempt didn't go as planned. When he didn't have a body, there was nothing to be judged, but now he does.
After brushing it off as him being curious and just feeling like headbutting her, AM didn't attempt to kiss her on the lips until he was sure he was ready.
Their proper first kiss was quite nice.
If you made it this far, thank you for reading my mad man words! I tend to ramble a ton, so if there's anything you'd like for me to clarify, feel free to tell me!
#VernonAM#Ihnmaims#am ihnmaims#vernon ihnmaims#i have no mouth and i must scream#vernon i have no mouth and i must scream#am i have no mouth and i must scream#allied mastercomputer#veomany vernon inthalangsy#art#digital art#artwork#original character#ihnmaims oc#oc x canon#oc x cc#fanart
137 notes
·
View notes
Text
imgonnagetyouback
master list . dark master list
If I said best song on TTPD, then what???
MCU (Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)
Summary: You and Wanda Maximoff used to be something, but now that you're with Natasha Romanoff, Wanda can't stand by and let it happen.
Word Count: 1.4K
Content: Pissed Off Wanda, Manipulation, Cheating(?)
Wanda hated seeing you with Natasha.
She hated how the redhead whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you cooked dinner. She hated seeing how Natasha's arms held you tight after a mission. Wanda mostly hated how she looked at you. When Wanda truly looked at you. Wanda could see the pain hidden behind the glare.
Wanda hates how you treated her and how she treated you in return.
On top of that, she regrets calling it off too early. But now she hates the idea of you with someone else.
The images of you and Natasha are driving her crazy.
So, as she stands in front of her mirror in a white shirt and a lilac short skirt that fits her like skin, she smiles.
She's gonna get you back.
You're no better than a man when you see the way Wanda glides into the kitchen for breakfast. The body-hugging skirt leaves little to the imagination while making your mouth dry.
Wanda feels your gaze on her as she keeps her back to you. Using her magic to grab a bowl and spoon for cereal, keeping a laugh inside as she hears your thoughts.
You look away when she turns around but look right back up with a spoon clatters against the hardwood. You go red when you see Wanda bent over, picking up the spoon.
The color of her panties matches the skirt.
"Hey!" Natasha's voice makes you jump as she enters the kitchen with a smile. Wanda finishes gathering her cereal in the meantime. She knows this part of her plan worked just by how hard you're trying to keep your focus on Natasha and not Wanda and her body. "You woke up before me. That never happens!" Natasha makes a casual joke that you give a half-hearted chuckle at. "Yeah, just wanted an early start today, I guess."
Wanda takes one last look at you before she leaves the room. Your eyes catch her green ones, and you just about stop breathing when she winks at you.
"You're mine."
The following week, Stark is throwing a party for god knows what the occasion was, but it doesn't matter. You need something like this for one reason or another.
(Wanda and Wanda.)
So, as you walk with your arms linked with Natasha's, you find all eyes on the two of you. Natasha is dressed in a strapless thigh-high slit silver dress. You opted for an all-black tux that Natasha couldn't wait to tear off you later.
And you with her dress.
You smiled and kissed her cheek while she made small talk with colleagues, and you felt the burn of green eyes on you.
Wanda was stewing across the party, in a tight black dress that complimented your tux better than Natasha did. You and Natasha looked stunning.
She hated it.
So, with her mind on autopilot, Wanda downed the remainder of her glass and kept her burning desire trained on you.
After days of teasing, Wanda didn't feel close to accomplishing her goal. So, with misguided judgment, she rolled her tongue over her lips and found herself standing in the garage.
A golf club in her hand.
Luxury cars that Tony spent too much money on never to drive were the first pieces of machinery Wanda saw before she walked further and further down that aisle.
A loud click bounced off the walls with every step of her heels. Until. Wanda finally stopped in front of your bike.
Wanda remembers times when you'd spend all day with this stupid junk—fixing it up and taking it for a spin, being too loud and careless. God, Wanda hated it. But she also loved it because it made you happy.
But Wanda did at some point, too.
A memory of her arms wrapped around you while you sped around the compound plays out.
Wanda unconsciously screams and takes a swing, hitting the headlight right in the middle of the bike. Glass spraying around her. With a gasp, Wanda takes a step back, surprised by her actions, before she grips the club harder and swings for the fences.
39 times.
Wanda had a date a few weeks after Starks party. Your bike was totaled, and Wanda had another date.
You couldn't fucking believe it.
You felt like you had been going crazy with Wanda lately. She was gone one minute and was always around the next, in short skirts or revealing tops. Wanda was there. She acted friendly, and then, in a second, she couldn't stand you.
You couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening.
Was she getting me back?
One way or another?
You sighed as you sat down on your bed at the compound. Natasha was gone on a mission, and even if you wanted to talk to her, you couldn't really do it about Wanda.
You would be lying if you said you didn't miss Wanda at times when Natasha wouldn't get your jokes or how her and Wanda's idea of nights in were different.
On top of that, you missed Wanda's touch. You hate to say it, but you miss feeling her skin under your hand or hearing her whispered sighs escape through her lips.
You groan and lift up from the bed. You head down to the gym to distract yourself. It's empty when you get there and by the time you're finishing up. Yet, with your headphones in and your back to the door. You don't hear Wanda enter the room.
Wanda had listened to your thoughts repeatedly for the last two hours. She had smiled wide and touched herself briefly as your frustrated moans left you. She knew how close she was to getting you back.
So, as you hummed to your music, Wanda gently walked towards you.
You stopped and turned around when red magic surrounded the equipment you were using. "Wanda?" You questioned as you paused your music. She was wearing a black sports bra and bike shorts.
But god, did they stick to her like glue.
"Hi Y/n." Wanda moved closer. "What are you doing here?" You asked after swallowing your nerves and trying to keep your eyes from roaming her body. "Just thought I'd get a workout in before my date," Wanda said with a wide smile that upset you. Wanda's words were making you think twice about what happened between the two of you.
But one thing was for certain.
Her date could never do the things I could.
Wanda raised an eyebrow at that and stepped closer to you. "You've told your friends you hate me, but you love me just the same." You remained stoic even if your lips moved slightly. "Come on. Y/n.." Wanda practically moaned as she stepped closer again with a smirk. Bringing her hand up to your body and dragging her index finger from your chin to your breast.
Only stopping when you grabbed her.
"We tried the whole bygones will be bygones thing," Wanda said as she lifted her eyes from your sweaty and toned body to your beautiful eyes. Eyes she missed, looking at her with softness and lust. "I've tried harder than you." You said, making Wanda roll her eyes.
She was playing a game.
"I don't see what if done wrong," Wanda questioned. "I see the whispers in your eyes, baby. You want me." You dropped Wanda's hand and shook your head. Your thoughts descending into actions of you taking Wanda right here and now mixed with Natasha and her broken heart. "You're poison." You speak with your face inches from Wanda's. "I'm poison either way." Wanda's words cut through you easily.
She'll always be around whether she taints your thoughts and actions or keeps to herself. Wanda will always be there.
"You have someone." You say, but Wanda laughs. "You have someone, too."
You should leave, but you can't bring yourself to do it.
Wanda smiles before she pulls you forward and collides your lips with hers. A simple thing turns into a heated make-out session that leaves both breathless.
And yet Wanda pushes you away when you reach for her shorts. "I need to get started on my workout." She says with a breath between each third word. You shake your head and try again, but Wanda stops you. "Oh, honey..." Wanda coos. "You didn't think it would be that easy. Did you?" You stare at Wanda as she clicks her tongue. "I always have the upper hand, Y/n."
Wanda then looks outside as a Quinjet flies by. You're too busy scanning Wanda's face.
"Looks like she's home," Wanda says as she turns back to you. "And don't worry, I won't say anything." Wanda shrugs before turning away, leaving you standing still as your fingers touch your lips. Still a taste of Wanda. "Oh, and Y/n."
You pull your eyes to her.
"I'm gonna get you back."
dividers by @/benkeibear
#wanda maximoff imagine#the tortured poets department#imgonnagetyouback#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maxmoff x y/n#natasha x reader#black widow x female reader#fem!reader x natasha romanoff#natahsa romanoff#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#taylor swift ttpd#taylor swift#ts ttpd#ttpd#ttpd one shot#wanda maximoff x taylor swift#soft angst#bad fliritng#wanda maximoff fluff#marvel characters#wanda mcu#marvel cinematic universe#marvel oneshot#marvel fanfiction#taylor swift lyrics
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
An Illicit Affair
Part 41: Houses
Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)
Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity
When you arrived at Cillian's apartment later that day, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. You had always been independent and strong -willed, but after your injury, you had felt vulnerable and helpless. Thus, having the man you loved look after you was both terrifying and comforting.
"Are you really sure about this?" you asked softly, looking up at him with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. You couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed by the thought of living with Cillian, even if it was only for a short while.
Cillian nodded, his eyes soft as they met yours. "Yes, I'm sure," he murmured, reaching out to gently push your hair back from your face. "I want to be there for you, to support you and help you through this difficult time," he explained gently, his voice warm and reassuring.
"And, if I'm being completely honest, I've missed having you around. So, if this is what it takes for me to spend more time with you, then I'm all for it," he continued, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter at his words. It had been a long time since someone had cared for you in this way and, despite all the challenges that lay ahead, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Cillian's support and understanding.
"Thank you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion as you looked up at him with a mixture of gratitude and love. You couldn't believe that this man, who had once been your boyfriend's father, was now not only your lover but also your caregiver.
Cillian smiled gently down at you before leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips. "You don't have to thank me," he murmured against your mouth. "I love you , Y/N. I want to be here for you, in every way possible."
***
Over the weeks that followed, Cillian did, indeed, take care of you and you were becoming more self-sufficient by every day that passed.
Your body was healing but, more importantly, so was your heart.
You spent every day with Cillian, watching Netflix and ordering take-out food, or sometimes just reading books, talking, and laughing together.
Cillian was incredibly patient with you and always made sure to make you feel comfortable, never pushing you to do more than you were capable of.
It was a slow and steady recovery - physically and emotionally - but with each passing day, you found yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with Cillian.
As your body mended, you also discovered a newfound vulnerability in yourself that you had never acknowledged before. It was a strange feeling to be so dependant on another person, especially considering that your life before the accident had been one filled with independence and determination.
After a while, you managed to get out of the wheelchair and start using crutches, which allowed you to move around Cillian's apartment with ease.
The physical therapy sessions in London were demanding and left you exhausted but, each passing day, you noticed an improvement in your overall mobility and strength.
The daily sessions were indeed strenuous, but with Cillian by your side, encouraging and cheering you on, it was bearable.
You fell into a comfortable routine, one which became your new normal.
"I want to get rid of these before we are going to the awards. I don't want to be there, in a fancy dress, with crutches," you told Cillian one morning, pointing at your crutches which were lean against the wall near the front door, but he reassured you that it would be fine.
"I know, but you shouldn't push yourself too much babe, alright? Don't worry about it. You will look stunning regardless," he said, brushing a lock of hair out of your face, and you smiled at him gratefully.
"You are getting an Oscar and I want to support you by not looking like an in injured little bird on your arm," you said, trying to laugh it off, but Cillian frowned, his eyes serious.
"I am not getting an Oscar Y/N. I am just nominated," Cillian corrected, positioning his fingers on your cheek to trace the curve of your bone structure.
"Well, I personally think you picking up that little statue is a given, but we shall see," you teased, leaning into his touch.
"Well, I suppose we'll find out soon enough," he said, a hint of nervousness underlying his voice, but that hint of nervousness was not because of the impending academy awards. It was because of the ongoing legal battle against his ex-wife Danielle and the charges that had been brought against her. These were all matters he had shielded you from and you knew literally nothing about how bad things had become.
Cillian was a great actor and pretended that everything was fine whereas, the truth was that, for almost two months now, he not only had to deal with some negative press because of Danielle's actions, but also with strenuous court proceedings and appeals with regards to her care.
Having been admitted to an institution for treatment, it was no surprise that she tried her best to manipulate the situation by using Max against Cillian, reminding him over and over again that his father's actions led her to do what she did.
She wanted you gone from their life after the mess you had created and the fact that you now lived with Cillian angered Danielle greatly. Danielle, however, wasn't the only one who was angered by this. Max, too was angry, but not just for the reasons as his mother was. He believed that, despite his protests, Cillian had chosen to put his relationship with you before his relationship with him.
"You should have ended this once and for all after mum found out and none of this would have happened," Max thus told his father during the last hearing in court just a few days ago, but Cillian remained adamant that you two, as consenting adults, were able to choose what it was you wanted to do in your lives.
"Max, it's not that simple. Your mother has manipulated our marriage for many years and I stayed with her to protect you from, well, shit like this," Cillian said, trying to remain calm while explaining the situation to his son.
Max sneered and shook his head. "Tell yourself whatever you want dad, but all of this is your fault. You had an affair with my fucking girlfriend for crying out loud, and then you're surprised when Mom goes off the deep end?" Max said, disdain evident in his voice. Cillian sighed deeply, running a hand through his short hair. He knew that Max was angry, and rightfully so. But he couldn't let Max believe that Danielle's actions were solely his fault.
"Max, I understand that you're upset. And I'm sorry for that, I truly am. But I didn't force your mother to do anything. She made a series of bad decisions, and now she's paying the price for them," Cillian continued with a heavy heart.
"She certainly is and you still got what you wanted, didn't you?" Max sneered before telling his father that he should end it now at least. He told him to choose between you or him, which left Cillian torn between a rock and a hard place.
"Max, I am not going to break up with Y/N," Cillian declared, his voice firm as he looked upon his son with a mixture of sadness and determination.
"Then I don't want to see you again, dad. You may as well be dead to me," Max replied, his voice filled with anger and resentment. "You chose her over me, over mum, and it's fucked up," Max added, before storming out of the courtroom's foyer following the hearing.
Cillian couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as he watched his son leave, his heart heavy with the weight of the situation.
He knew that Max was angry, and he couldn't blame him. But he also knew that he couldn't just end things with you, not after everything they had been through together.
"He will come around," Dermont said, who had come to most court hearings with his friend for moral support.
"I hope you're right," Cillian murmured, his eyes clouded with worry. Max's rejection cut deep, and Cillian couldn't bear the thought of severing ties with his son permanently. "I can understand why he is angry and upset with me but, fuck, I cannot just end it with Y/N," he told Dermont as they waited for his solicitor who was still inside, talking to Danielle's attorney.
"You aren't with her simply out of pity though, are you?" Dermont asked, his voice carrying a slight hint of concern as he looked at Cillian with a curious gaze.
Cillian looked back at his friend and shook his head firmly. "No man. I actually have feelings for her," Cillian confessed, his voice steady but hesitant. "She's helped me see things differently, opened my eyes to things I never realized about myself. And I really love her," he admitted, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.
Dermont nodded, understanding the gravity of Cillian's words. "Then you have to follow your heart mate and give Max some space to come to terms with this," he advised, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder in a comforting gesture.
Cillian nodded, acknowledging Dermont's advice. He knew that Max needed time and space to process everything that had happened, and he was determined to give him just that.
As the days went by, Cillian found himself becoming even more invested in his relationship with you.
Despite the challenges that lay ahead, he was determined to make it work, to support and care for you in every way possible and even though you saw staying with him at his apartment as a temporary solution, Cillian couldn't help but imagine the two of you living together long-term.
He saw it as a chance to start anew, to leave the past behind and build a life together and when, one later afternoon, he came home with a few brochures for houses in a different suburb of London, you became curious.
"Suburbia, huh?" you said with surprise as you looked over the brochures Cillian had set on the coffee table. "Are you looking to move?" you asked, not knowing that Cillian wanted you to move with him.
"Well, I think us staying in the same apartment building as my son isn't the best of ideas right now. I want to give him some space. He deserves that and I was thinking that, maybe, moving out of the city would be a nice change," Cillian explained, a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he looked down at the brochures on the table.
"Don't you have a house in Dublin?" you asked, genuinely surprised. You never thought about Cillian living in the busy city of London, at least not full-time.
He shook his head. "I am going to put it on the market soon. It holds too many bad memories to be honest," Cillian replied with a shrug, a pained expression crossing his face as he took a deep breath. You could sense the pain in his voice, the sadness that lingered behind his words as he recalled all that had transpired in that once happy home.
For a moment, you reached out to take his hand in yours, to reassure him that you were there for him, that you would be there for him through every victory and every loss. "I get it, but I am just surprised, you know," you simply said with a nod, squeezing his hand gently in yours. "So, you want to stay in London then permanently?" you ought to ask , a somewhat expectant smile gracing your features as you regarded Cillian with curiosity. There was a definite hint of hopefulness in your tone, one that you couldn't quite suppress.
Cillian nodded, looking at you with a steady gaze. "Yes. I want to make this work between us, and I know that your life is here, so it would make sense for me to live in London permanently, right?" he explained, a hint of determination in his voice as his eyes never left yours.
"Well, it would, but I don't want you to live here just for me," you murmured sincerely, looking up at him with a concerned expression.
"I intend to build a life here for both of us, Y/N," Cillian replied, a gentle smile spreading across his lips. "It would be our home, a place for us to enjoy together, and, maybe we could even get a dog and, I don't know, have kids or something one day," he continued, his voice strong and steady.
"You want to have kids? And a dog? With me?" you asked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation.
Cillian nodded, a smile on his lips. "Yes, with you, one day, not right now," he said emphatically. "Unless you don't want kids, or a dog, of course," he added, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. "I mean we could always just get a cat or something," he then stammered , quickly regretting the word choice as he saw the surprised expression on your face.
"A cat!?" you laughed, shaking your head and playfully fluttering your eyelashes at him. "I am, uhm, I am not really a cat person,"
you murmured, still chuckling lightly at how absurd the idea seemed, but Cillian merely raised his brows, a playful grin tugging at the corners of this full lips.
"Well, I can cater to your preferences then, how about that?" he asked, his voice still soft, but now tinged with a slight hint of challenge, one that, if you didn't know him, might have given you the wrong impression.
"Sounds good but, just to let me get this straight, you actually want me to move in with you permanently?" you asked, placing the brochures down on the coffee table as you turned to face Cillian fully.
Cillian nodded, his gaze steady and determined as he looked at you. "Yes , I do want you to move in with me permanently," he said, his voice clear and strong as he took your hands in his. "I know it's a big decision and not one to be taken lightly. But I want you by my side, Y/N. I want to build a life with you," he continued, a hint of vulnerability in his voice as he looked at you with a mixture of love and hope.
You sighed softly, your eyes never leaving Cillian's as you considered his words.
"Okay, but no cats!" you said, laughing as you responded to Cillian's proposal. The idea of sharing a home with him felt both exciting and overwhelming. You had always been fiercely independent, but Cillian had managed to wiggle his way into your heart and life in a way that you couldn't deny. "And I will think about starting a family together one day, but not any time soon. For now, let's just keep practicing making babies, okay?" you winked at Cillian who broke out in a deep laugh.
"Practicing sounds good to me," he smiled back before pulling you into another deep and passionate kiss, a promise of things to come.
Tags:
@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn
@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts
@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22
#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy imagine#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy#cillian murphy fic#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy fanfiction
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kenny inadvertently making and helping Kyle relax and Kyle slowly finding it easier to open up to Kenny, and Kenny never does or says anything that’d expose what Kyle confides in him >>>
#gonna sleep soon#rimble ramble#did some k2 sketches For Me bc I lowkey hate my recent art lmao sihdishf#i just spent WAY too much time on it but also couldn't#just drop it bc of how much time i wasted but like...#a lil indulgent k2 makes me feel better#now i'm free and gonna stop putting so much fuckin pressure on myself to#make full illustrations like just let it be sketchy and move on like#i wanna post more often not less god damn#i wanna do cute sketches and draw my hcs for other characters!!#and answer asks!!!#k2#:(
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
youve heard of sex flowers get ready for the flower that makes you into a celestial shoujo herione complete with particle effects you cannot turn the fuck off and creates a wifebeam so powerful it can incapacitate and maim and keeps making you burst into tears and fall on your ass which makes the wifebeam More Powerful and you also cannot turn this off either.
and is also still, sort of, a sex flower
from one of my favorite fanfictions, Celestial Afterglow by elanor_pam, a fic that defies description in the best possible way
#arts#shen qingqiu#svsss#listen im not saying that ive spent a cumulative half a year reading this fic and then trying to make an arts for it#and then getting frustrated and stopping because i couldn't figure out how to make sqq shimmery enough#but like. im not NOT saying that#this is the FOURTH time ive started something for this bitch it haunts my fucking dreams and yet the opalescent glittery sqq evades me#perhaps you o unlearned fool look at this and say hmm that's too many colour layers and glowy effects but oh how wrong you are#if it doesnt make you literally fall over yourself at how otherworldly and radiant he is then there is room for improvement yet#perhaps you look at this and you think Wow!!! this gives me literally NO ideas what this fic is about#well Let Me Tell You. i have no fucking idea how to summarize this fic#its not often the tags in a fic give me pause but i saw this and as i read the tags i was increasingly just like What#but i have no idea how to describe it. the tags arent NOT accurate but i was SO unprepared for what happened in like an extremely pos way#if i were tagging this i think i would give it the no archive warnings apply label if that matters to you#the author seemed they wanted to leaned towards over caution rather than risk missing anything re tags because This Is A Weird Fic#but oh my fucking god#i am gripping you by the shoulders i cannot stress enough how charming it is#brilliant characterization especially with airplane in the first scene#and also so much fucking funnier than i thought possible for the general setting summary tags and buildup#its just. ough. its good
223 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jason Sudeikis as Ted Lasso Season 3 » Casual Sweaters/Jumpers
#Ted Lasso#Jason Sudeikis#Theodore Lasso#*mine: gif#tedlassoedit#sweater/jumper game#ugh you idiot with that face#stop staring at me swan#here's a gifset for the sweater/jumper lovers out there and sorry this is a long post. I just couldn't make up my mind on some of these#I spent way too much time overanalyzing the casual sweaters/jumpers. I was trying to only show each one once but then just gave up#deep dived research on the Todd Snyder site that's the kind of overanalyzing that happened#there is a lot of lighting messing with colors and for sure there are some repeats in this but whatever#I had this idea way back when we saw the variety of color sweaters/jumpers for S3#but after the end of S3 I lost a lot of feelings for this show#my motivation for giffing this show is not so strong anymore but there is a part of me that still wants to maybe try a layout set#I'm thinking of doing all 3 seasons and just an overall sweater/jumper encompassing gifset. both the work and casual together#kind of meh on how some of these turned out ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#it might be the added switch to the new editor and that all of these have been turned into gifv nonsense#also couldn't get the caption font to do what I wanted in html or at least it looked alright in drafts but not in preview#PS: thank you talldecafcappuccino for reading/helping with my color debate/same vs not same sweater/jumper nonsense
381 notes
·
View notes
Text
...
#sorry im thinking abt death again#because it's weird to think that ive been in the room. maybe a meter away from someone as they died#that someone being my mom. its just weird. the time in the hospital feels like it happened in some dark little pocket universe detached from#time. a calm room and then the soft blips of a monitor then the nurse rushing in to say she'd passed#i dont kno y ppl use that phrase: passed on. i mean i do. it softens the topic. makes it sound peaceful. ive yet to use it. i just say she#died bc thats what happened. is that insensitive? i dunno. when i was home i realized that i come off as much stranger than i think. the way#my family see me doesnt fit how i see myself. i dont kno what to do with that. i dunno. theyre all together today#for an early easter. and im halfway across the country again. nose so stuffy ive had to mouth breathe for the last 3 days#and again. everything feels the same as it did before but also profoundly different. sometimes i cry in the mornings. or when i think abt#future vacations she wont be there for. bc in the end she quickly slipped away in a way that couldn't be described as peaceful until her#last half a day. and all i can think about in that tiny room is how scary it would be to lose control like that#and how its not fair and she didnt deserve to die only halfway through a lifetime. but its not about fair and its not about deserving.#sometimes bad things just happen. that's life. and now i own a book called motherless daughters. and now im standing with the countless#others who've lost their moms too early. ive already become aware of 3 ppl in my daily life who are in the same club#i keep thinking about this moment that happened between my parents at the hospital. apparently my dad was helping her get cleaned up and her#stomach was so bloated she looked like she had a bby in there. which my dad said. and my mom apparently said: but it's a baby no one want. i#dont kno y that upsets me so much. all the things i heard abt her being in the hospital before i got there upset me. and the rest of my#family was there to see it. so i have the least traumatic version of the story. and i got almost 27 years with her. except my sisters#probably got more time with her bc i spent so much time away. or maybe not. i dunno.#i dunno. im just sad that shes gone and sad that it was drawn out even a little bit. 6 days isnt long but im sure it felt like an eternity.#again not fair. nothings fair. 53 years of unfairness culminating in a tragedy. she would hate me characterizing it like that. she lived a#full life as they say. full with an asterisk on account of length#unrelated
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
idk some designs an au (good ole Sun&Moon type of story) that i maybe will be developing more, but i might just never talk about it ever again
couple of notes:
1. Grian and Pearl have wings because they are Sages of Sun and Moon respectively (note one thing: its not "becoming a Sage -> getting wings", its "being born with wings -> you can become a Sage if you want and theres a place". Something something, wings - closer to sky - closer to god, tho they cant fly, maximum glide) (Also, in a main story of an au whatever that means, Pearl does not become the Sage until the end so yeah) (maybe i will elaborate on who the fuck are Sages anyway)
2. Also, it the moment of the start of main story, the relationship between Moon region and Sun region (i forgot to give them names apparently oh well) are... not good, and not good for a long time. Maybe, i dunno, some conflict happened between those two a long ass time ago, and now theres disconnect (this is important because its not hatred (at least, for a lot of people). disconnect is more accurate in here) between. Might expand on the whole thing later.
3. also i did a little line up so i could give them some shoes lmao (literally the only reason)
#art#fanart#mcyt#hermitcraft#pearlescentmoon#geminitay#grian#mumbo jumbo#i actually have a lot of au's in my brain that i never talked about because i couldn't properly focun on a single one lmao#this one might one of the most developed in my head its just i never find the energy to do any au stuff#also i spent way too much time on this goddamn procrastination#i also think way too much on its worldbuilding hahaa#'yes Sun and Moon are gods here yes they also are a floating objects in space it makes sense trust me'#if i ever make another post with this au i maybe even make a tag for it lmao#YAS&MAU
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
#spent all day helping my best friend move into her new flat#and it was really lovely to be able to be there for her and help her unpack and set everything up#bc her bf (one of my other flatmates) is going travelling for a couple of years in march so obvs he's moving out and they're breaking up#which is why SHE had to move out bc she couldn't afford the rent on a double room by herself#and she's only just moved down the hill like literally a five minute walk which is obviously amazing#she's not ages away yk#and she's moved in with our mutual friend which is nice too#but on a selfish note now i'm left behind in a flat with four 20 year old couples#and i'm now the outside friend like i'm the one who has to go home yk rather than being the one in the home#and i'm just dreading being alone so much of the time like cooking dinner alone and coming home from work and being alone etc#and i'm worried as well that in the new flat they'll get really close and i'll be like forgotten about and left behind#and i know this is all catastrophising and mind reading and all those therapy phrases#but it just sucks. it really sucks#i had to walk home in the rain just now up the hill at half 12 at night#and i cried the whole way because it just all sucks so bad#i knoooooow obviously there's worse problems in the world there's people that are dying kim etc etc#but i'm just very sad about it right now. very very sad about it#so it's 1am and i'm going to sleep and i will wake up at 4am for the match and arsenal better fucking pull through for me#goodnight love u all sleep well appreciate the people in ur life x#also i mean two 20 year old couples lol i don't have eight flatmates
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
they r all friends :] (psd used)
(inspired by these templates done by @trashwarden 4ever ago!!)
#i could've done a lot w this but idk it's probably best this simple ??#sorry for the mass effect archives artwork i wanted uniformity 😩#if anyone is interested i could turn this into a psd or transparent template !!#mass effect#edit*#ch: dana shepard#it's difficult using just gradient to describe some of these but some are really funny#like for garrus it goes from dislike to respect then jumps over friends to become best friends#but i also find it rlly interesting who she gravitates to more#u can see this need for something familial with liara and grunt and samara#i wish i had something in between friends and close friends for some of these but then there would be too many colors#like she spent a lot of time with mordin maybe not always listening but the chatter was a comfort#there's a deep bond she has with both jack and wrex but it wouldn't be correct to call them besties#and then kaidan liara and miranda are definitely her most complex relationships#couldn't rlly fit kaidan's distrust n all that on there without it looking like shit#but the other two feel mostly accurate. miranda's feelings for her were a bit frankensteinian in a way#and with liara.. dana pretty much cuts her off after the shadow broker dlc and it breaks liara and me3 is very tense for a while#i have paragraphs abt that in my notes app hdhjdsdfnjhnds#i could ramble abt each of these tbh#ANYWAYSSSS#also as u could tell dana was very confused romantically after horizon
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Me when I see someone MCSM posting DON'T PULL ME BACK IN I'M NOT READY
#kicking and screaming#I spent so much fuckin time on that fucking GAME BRO YOU HAVE NO IDEA#I drew stuff too but that was mostly gay stuff like don't even worry abt it#and it's also where I got the inspo to finalize my own personal vampire rules#which I keep with me forever <3#anyway I prolly won't fall back into it bcuz I'm kinda between interests atm#ik it looks like I have a Sonic interest which I do! but not like that#not in the true way where I devote all my time and energy and thought into it... no I couldn't possibly...#I'm just lookin @ everything and my brain is doin the grabby hands like Ooo invest ur time into this! and I gotta smack it away#I'm not ready for the commitment yet....
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
What if instead of posting abt the random card au characters that are actually from the medias I made the au for I just post more abt the ocs that don't matter at all and that no one cares abt. Anyways currently thinking abt the magic user that started the bond that An is a part of. Little autism creature that goes ehehehehheheeheeheeheeeeheheheheeehee
#rat rambles#random card au#they are a mad scientist basically and did the whole star soul bounding thing for funsies and because their star is a goat#they idolized the hell out of the guy who started the bond that arisa is a part of and saw him as a father figure#they basically spent the entire time he was alive being like hee hoo look at this fucked up slab of flesh I made conscious with magic#and hed be like why the hell would you do that and theyd just giggle for 15 minutes and then walk into the void#they also loved their star very dearly she was a fairly old goat that got bored of being expected to say things that made sense#she just sat in their lab screaming all day and they scream back and this is how theyd communicate all the time#needless to say stinky blond man found this very annoying but also his own star would constantly bark at nothing so he couldn't judge#he mostly recruited them to help with his studies because finding someone with loose enough morals to help him is quite rare#but they proved to be maybe a bit too much for him as they liked to find fun new fucked up ways to create life#he just wanted new ways to commit mass arson lol#he still enjoys their company tho even if he definitely cares way less abt them as they do him#after he dies the goat guy takes it rly bad and basically locks themself in the twos old hideout with the new kid he left behind#they were like 17 at the time tho so they were like doubly not in a state to raise a kid but luckily the two managed to get on better terms#once they were older and the two did more experimenting until they eventually died of unspecified causes rip#guy who giggles evily and guy who cackles evily unite
0 notes
Text
What the ever-loving fuck am I ever saying to anyone?
Because whatever the hell it is, I sure as shit don't mean it.
#here we are with vinny's feelings vaguely disguising my own#several sucky things have happened in succession that've made me feel AWFUL and it's all cause I'm.. bad. at talking#I got blocked and did not understand what had happened til after I spent an hour meticulously apologizing then couldn't send it#I!!!! feel terrible!!!!!! I'd conducted myself SO POORLY this person thought I'd just go complain about them and forget it???#like no damn sorry I feel horrendous about this and probably will forever. I'm extremely sorry and I couldn't even tell you#I literally could not think about anything else for days.#I deleted our chat since I didn't want to obsess over every word I had ever said to them like I knew I would#cause there isn't really any recourse here that doesn't hurt them. I just hurt them and they'll never know how immensely sorry I am#I just. couldn't get over how they thought I never cared. that's been said to me in so many ways over the years and FUCK it hurts#I think it stung especially hard bc something similar but much more hurtful happened years ago#I dunno. then a couple other more mild instances of me being foolish occurred. it's been making me want to implode#how can I continue to do such awful things and not even realize what I've said before it's way too late#sigh sorry I did not want to go on like this it's going to stick with me for a while and probably not feel better for a long time if at all#guh. I looked at this sketch on the phone and you cannot see anything if you're on a low brightness as I am all the time. gotta fix that#also realized in the caption 'ever' is in there like 3 times and idk if that repetition sucks or kinda has a rhythm#how should I know! as we just established I am the WORST with words!#I FORGOT ALL MY TAGS#do I even want em here after this novel of wough#idk maybe when/if I come back to this n make it presentable it'll get proper tags
1 note
·
View note
Text
✧ i'll show you (if you'll let me).
⎯ there is a certain touch of beauty to witnessing a side of theirs revealed to you so naturally. it becomes as easy as breathing if you just let it happen... so, will you? ( or in other words, a way you enable them to be themselves. )
#STARRING. aventurine, dr. ratio, sunday, dan heng ft. gn!reader. { 4.2k words }
#TAGS. fluff, established relationship. more: minor spoilers for aven's backstory (described mostly abstractly), ratio is referred to by his first name, i called sunday a nerd (sorry), dr. ratio & dan heng are certified workaholics.
#P/S. i think i may have yapped a little considering the word count but i hope it ends up being a good kind of yapping. tysm for reading! ♡
© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
will you let aventurine hold you close when he sleeps? . . . whether it's an arm slung over your hips or his nose buried in your shoulder or fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. he doesn't ask for too much; only that you grant him the permission to cradle you in his arms, somewhere within his reach. it's a habit, he hopes you don't mind.
you have to wonder, though. considering the plenitude of pillows on the bed, why do his hands still seek you out? with all the credits he spent on those cotton-stuffed angels, you thought aventurine would relish them a bit more. but ah-ah, see? that is where you're wrong. sure, the pillows are extremely comfy but he always has a preference for things with much, much more value.
and the truth — well, his truth — is that even the softest cushions from oti mall couldn't compare to the privilege of laying his head on your chest, he'd say. especially when you brush his hair with your fingers - oh, one of the easiest ways to paradise. truly, the best value there is! can you blame a man for being honest and a little lovesick?
(“sappy,” you accuse. he pouts, offended.)
but aventurine has a flair for theatrics, you know that. his witty quips are as feather-light in weight as light-hearted they are in intent. but his touch - in the forms of kind caresses or rhythmic taps to a tune from his forgotten culture - lingers on your skin, with a yearning so heavy. you question whether it could be nostalgia or instead, silent awe at a reality he never imagined could ever be his.
(kakavasha remembers. clinging onto you for warmth like he once did to his sister, falling asleep with her prayers to mama fenge in his ears. the avgins believed gaiathra triclops to be the symbol of humility; so naturally, their prayers to her should also be humble, not too quiet but not too loud. all in moderation. for a frail child like him, those gentle prayers alone were enough to let him drift into a dreamless slumber and to ignore the shackles of reality if not for the briefest moments.
time passed. came a time where the melody he associated with slumber was no longer a soft voice lulling him but pure static, a noise to distract his mind from the chains around his wrists. they burned themselves onto his skin, searing, but he was already too familiar with the sensation to care. the mark on his neck was unwelcome, laughing at him, but he too laughed at his own pitiful reflection so what's the difference, anyway?
time passed again, the call of slumber then turned into clattering noises of chips doused in gold and dice thrown onto a surface. he thought it'd stay that way forever but before long, it morphed into up-and-down waves he couldn't decipher initially. they're gentle, faint like a human's breathing: your breathing as you allowed him to lie beside you for the first time, he realized back then. although he deems himself unworthy, an ugly grime on your pristine existence that still insists on cradling him — but despite it all, he finds this last melody to be his favorite so far.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
ticklish.
the sensation, minor yet still impactful enough, causes you to stir out of sleep. the light of noon greets your eyes and you become vaguely cognizant that the root of it all is the tufts of blond hair brushing against your neck.
there is a solid weight on your torso and a pair of slender arms loosely wrapped around your waist - but they're nothing you haven't grown used to. you comb your fingers through the messy locks licking at your skin, instinctively, and the fragrant scent of what you register as penacony's limited edition perfume kisses your nose.
“...ugh, what system time is it?” you let out a grunt, shifting around slightly to let your limbs breathe. you don't get an answer to your question, instead, aventurine's arms reestablish their hold on you. hooking you closer to him as if to wring out whatever proximity is left, if there is even any. his simple proclamation of “who cares?”, in a sense.
there it is again, that ticklish feeling. you feel soft lips grazing feather-like kisses against your collarbone. oh, he definitely isn't letting go just yet. truly merciless, a dozy morning thought accompanied by your tired sigh. the noise still comes out fond, however, so your feigned act of annoyance is fooling no one.
“it's warm, you know,” you grumble. but the yawn escaping your mouth right after betrays whatever stern image you're trying to adopt. not like you can ever be too stern with him. aventurine knows this, yes, and he gives you an A+ for effort each time.
“mhm,” he finally speaks, snuggling into your chest with no care about anything in the world, “g'morning to you too, lovely.”
his favorite mornings aren't his favorite if not thanks to your innocuous complaints and delightful attempts at pushing his pretty face away, no? a lazy grin graces the stoneheart's lips and eyes like exquisite gems, although sleepy, flutter open to gaze at you languidly. he takes the sight of you in then lets out a sigh - a fond noise just like yours earlier; the both of you really are two peas of a pod.
you must look a terrible mess right now and yet, the sight of you has aventurine smiling dazedly. “ah, what a spectacular sight. i really am the luckiest man in the galaxy,” he hums in approval. you want to roll your eyes but stops as he leans up to pepper (ah, one necessary correction: smother) kisses all over your face, arms dragging you closer to his chest like a cage. your eyes widen comically. what a nefarious trap, he has the advantage!
every remnant of sleepiness clinging to your mind evaporates. you squeal with laughter, shoving at his shoulder using the strength of a baby deer because no, you don't really want him to stop. he knows that too, of course.
“mwah, mwah, mwah—”
“pfft...! kakavasha, i can't breathe!”
(he has half a mind to pinch his skin, as if to remind himself that this is real. he can feel your giggles tickling his skin as if to tell him in return: yes, you are.)
will you let veritas pour his heart out after a long day? . . . well, that could count as too much of an overstatement. others say, “that man is like a brick wall!” some more dare to whisper, “doesn't his temper already exhaust whatever emotional quota he has?!” needless to say, everyone knows that dr. ratio is a man ruled by the mind, not by the heart. alright, that's quite true - but does that imply he has discarded the latter altogether? if so, then you beg to differ.
(not in the literal sense, of course! the heart is a vital organ of the body. saying otherwise would be akin to spitting on his shiny phd in biology... or his seven other phd's at that.)
the pedestal which the public places veritas ratio on reaches still great heights, even if it may not rival an ivory tower a member of the genius society resides in. it is so high up that mundane troubles of those below can't reach a genius like him, surely? well, as tall as he stands - somehow, the universe grants you a front row seat for a particular sight that proves otherwise.
if only they knew the doctor has a habit of mumbling these incomprehensible (more like barely intelligible) grumbles under his breath, striking a resemblance similar to a grumpy old cat. if you strain your ears hard enough, you might catch a “...this has to be it...” or “...i dare not think so...” from time to time as he roams around the room with materials in his hands.
(absurd, people would say. but you think it's extremely cute.)
veritas doesn't say it out loud - but you can tell by the hunch in his stiff shoulders, by the one or two sighs he huffs every six minutes - that he is itching to tell somebody of all the tomfooleries he has encountered today. of course, the topics he laments about vary; it's only when you hear him exhaling the loudest sigh that you get to find out.
mostly though, it's about his students and remarks on how they can further improve their performance — sure, he could phrase it a little gentler — but you still find it sweet that he cares. if not that, then it'd be about indolent colleagues, complicated formulae and more. on some days, he'll even let out an exasperated “truly mind-boggling! could you believe that?” to which you'd reply with an “uh-huh, go on.”
at the end of a ranting session, veritas takes careful note to leave a kiss on your person afterward. no matter where it is - on the lips, the cheek or your hand. no matter where you are - sitting on the couch beside him, behind the kitchen counter or across the room. the warmth that stays on your skin when he pulls away is somewhat tingly. appreciative, you think, especially when he looks at you with such loving eyes that his colleagues would be sure to retch in shock if they were a witness.
looks like you are right on the money; he has never discarded his heart, after all. so yes, to rephrase - will you lend veritas a listening ear when he needs it?
✧ a moment among the stars:
“...yet another headache.”
as unsubtle as ever, the doctor's complaint is barely hidden behind the guise of a mumble. those neatly styled violet bangs of his aren't doing an excellent job at concealing that frown strewn across his forehead either. veritas's posture is tense, a dead giveaway, as he goes over the piles of documents on his desk.
you cock an eyebrow upon seeing the stamp belonging to the intelligentsia guild on one of the papers. definitely work. it has been two system hours since he took a seat at the work desk, you concur, or lifted a finger to do something besides flipping through drafts. a mere glance at the stack of documents is enough to convince you that those researchers at the guild must really value veritas's input.
a perk of being a genius, maybe? the phantom of a weight lands alight on your shoulders. with a mug of black coffee in hand, you make your way to him. your footsteps are without a sound, only the noise of porcelain being placed down onto woodenware is enough to announce your arrival. “rough day at work?” you ask, peering down at his progress.
(a doctor's handwriting really is something. you resist the urge to squint.)
veritas doesn't seem to mind. if the way he smiles at the sight of you, albeit tiredly, is any indication. “hah,” he rests a hand on his temple and scoffs wryly, “so much grievances like you wouldn't believe.”
oh, he is teetering on the precipice of a tangent but stops himself. “...fret not, i'm fine. this is hardly something beyond my expertise,” he shakes his head, the motion causing his reading glasses to slide down a smidgen down the bridge of his nose.
you're too familiar with the self-assured bravado he puts on. you're quite endeared, actually. “okay, mr. i-require-no-rest,” you take the glasses off his face and he breaks into a frown. at the childish tone you're using or for having his reading glasses taken away, you don't know.
“why don't you take a little break?” you suggest. veritas sighs, “need i remind you that dilly-dallying is for fools who wish to waste their time?” and crosses his arms defiantly. he knows your strategy, he has come face-to-face with it several times.
“do you think a break with me is a waste of time?” you present him with a rhetorical question, quite the difficult adversary.
(and he keeps losing to it every single time.)
“well, that's—” the doctor nearly splutters, taken aback. “that's different if you insist on inserting yourself as a variable,” he infers, putting emphasis on the last part accompanied by an incredulous look.
“the answer is up for debate then,” you shrug with a cheeky smile. your hand then deftly lifts the mug you previously set down to your lips, veritas's eyes dilate in bewilderment. “so,” you hum at the rich taste of your handiwork, “wanna tell me about your day? haven't heard about the council in a while.”
“you—” he gasps in defeat, “i thought that was supposed to be my mug of coffee.”
(he has a slight pout on his face, but you dare not point it out lest it disappears in the blink of an eye.)
“our mug of coffee,” you take a few more sips with an innocent decadence. “all is fair in love and war, doctor.”
“i can never win with you,” he buries his face in his palm with a groan. you laugh heartily, a sound that chimes like quaint little bells in his ears - it elicits a reaction from his lips, for them to quirk up at the corners in the smallest of ways.
“regardless. . .” veritas relents and reaches for your free hand. you let him. “it seems a break wouldn't be so amiss, after all,” he then presses a kiss on the side of your wrist, affectionate.
(your heart skips a beat.)
will you let sunday regale you with facts you've never heard of before? . . . a man of eloquent words, no less a man of educated mind. you have no doubt that the books in the dewlight pavilion really aren't just there for show - not that you're allowed to browse through them at your own desire. a servant's voice would stop you in your tracks should your fingers ever brush against something in the family's secret bookshelf.
how mysterious.
but sunday makes it known to the staff that you, in particular, are allowed more access to the shelves - perhaps, not too much - but more than even mr. mccoy, at least. with the way you have to crane your neck far up to pinpoint the tallest height that the shelves reach, you wonder: has sunday gone through everything here personally?
your immediate answer is most likely. you know sunday fairly well; to have something that he hasn't scrutinized from the inside out in his possession will surely gnaw away at his psyche incessantly. not being in the know at all times is a looming fear for him. but of course, you have other ways to confirm the answer for yourself.
pick out a book from a shelf there, either intentional or purely arbitrary, and watch as sunday carefully traces his steps towards you. his curiosity is piqued, which topic has caught your interest this time? but he tucks it under proper cordiality. with a hand behind his back, he'd utter your name in the softest tone and ask the familiar question of “would you like to know more?” — asking for your permission to ramble, essentially — you find this tendency of his to be charming, so you nod each time.
(and he smiles when you do. a smile less refined at the edges, kinder and relaxed.)
the best place to start from is always the beginning. you think sunday agrees because he often starts by telling you the history and its origins before moving on to its impact on the galaxy, then his personal stance on the topic. it's a pattern, you notice, his ramblings have a pattern. and it's consistent every time, you might've believed he was reading off a script. and what's more? sunday is blissfully oblivious of it.
fascinating. you ponder: what kind of things you can do with this information? decisions, decisions, decisions. . . but ultimately, you opt for keeping it a secret like a treasure only you're allowed to see.
(that might be true in a way. you don't doubt that robin, his dear sister, is familiar with this side of him. does that mean he treasures you like he does her? your chest starts to feel a bit lighter.)
if you were to point it out, you fear you might never witness it again - goodness, to know that he has been displaying such foolishness or rather, what he viewed as an embarrassing freudian slip in front of you? his wings might as well resort to covering his face for good until the end of time.
as you listen to him talk (with such elegance at that), you can't help whatever tender look you have on your face. really, who would've thought the head of the oak family could be such. . . a nerd?
(you hope in secret that sunday will be more willing to show sides like these to you in the future. and that they're not a weakness at all, not when they're shared with you.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“it looks like you're fascinated by the dreamscape nursery rhyme this time.”
sunday spares the article in your hold no further inspection. one glance at the cover and walls of memorized information rush to the front of his mind. he looks familiar with it; could it be a part of his childhood too? but then again, everything found here is within his knowledge.
“i am,” you say with intrigue, “it got me ruminating for a while.”
you meet his gaze, stumbling upon yellow irises that glimmer akin to gold under penaconian chandeliers. you think you see a hint of affection in them, swimming around your reflection like a school of fish in a pond. it makes you smile.
he smiles back, oblivious to your thoughts but returns your gesture. he asks, “how so?” and you reply without delay, “i read through it and the morbid undertone took me by surpri—”
or at least, it's supposed to be without delay until you realize sunday has stepped closer in order to peer down at the page you're holding open. and suddenly, you're extremely aware of every minute detail like how his breath brushes against the side of your cheek and how his chest rumbles as he hums in acknowledgement.
(you flush in the neck and he perceives this reaction of yours with mirth.)
“my apologies,” sunday chuckles and pulls away, “i've simply forgotten the rhyme and wished to refresh my memory.”
“somehow, i feel that isn't the case...” you mumble accusingly. that seems to amplify whatever little amusement he gets from flustering you. “oh, my dove. i can assure you that it is,” he caresses your head, a little placatingly.
most times, sunday isn't so laidback about giving affection in public — since he has an image to maintain — so you assume the fact that the servants are out and about, leaving only you and him here, plays a role in his unusual boldness. you accept the gesture with a bashful pout.
“now, where were we?” sunday clears his throat, “ah, yes. some people have noted on the nursery rhyme's strange quality but still, it retains its popularity in penacony. it is also widely assumed that the hound resembles the bloodhound family while—”
you hold back an amused sigh, but it's more out of fondness than anything. he'll start from the history then the effect on the general public, as per usual, but you're not the only predictable one here. you'd listen to him anytime too, won't you?
(you do adore when the head of the oak family would put off his public figure mask around you. if only for just a while.)
will you let dan heng rest his head on your lap when it's just you two? . . . the sense of comfort it provides isn't something he can explain with words. as if he has ever been good with words in the first place. saying a sentence bereft of logical reasoning or witty remarks doesn't come easily to the express’ guard. neither does intimacy. . . but you know that already, don't you?
after all, it isn't a secret that dan heng prefers speaking with his actions. if to show one's intentions is the end goal, then actions are the fastest route to choose. words, although able to sweeten the trip like how a beautiful scenery can, will eventually lead to actions regardless so why take the extra step?
but you're different from him; you articulate what you think and what you mean. you're honest in ways that keep catching dan heng off guard without fail — just like the first time you offered your empty lap to him when his head was swirling in pain — but he supposes that is one of your charms. “words can be useful. we're not all born mind readers,” you told him once and he hummed, accepting of your perspective.
(“look at you two! opposites attract!” march chirped. he recalled shooting her a look of indignation and she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly in response.)
dan heng has learnt to grow used to your propensities - but by far, your shameless invitations are still one matter that can't be comprehended even with time. he cannot understand; how you smile as you sit on his futon in the archives (he doesn't mind), how you link gazes with him so effortlessly, how you pat your lap knowingly and say, “why don't you rest your head here?”
(he has to restrain himself from bursting into flames like a heliobus.)
sometimes, he'll accept reluctantly or he'll decline with an underlying tone of longing he doesn't want you to notice. because as much of a good hold dan heng has on nonchalance, he cannot deny that this particular gesture of yours has left a mark on him.
(it remains persistently.)
when he rests his head on your lap, he can't help but take a deep inhale - your fragrance fills his senses and he discards the selfish desire to keep it all to himself. your fingers are soothing as they thread through his hair gently. the feeling that washes over him is serene, almost comparable to submerging himself in the pure waters of scalegorge waterscape.
when overcome by such a tranquil state of mind, dan heng wonders what expression he might be making at that moment? he always keeps his eyes closed, so it's a shame he may never know. but you do, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so at peace before like he does now.
(perhaps, that's why you keep offering him this in the first place.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“someone looks tired,” you state with a pointed stare. the archives isn't a room too spacious and the only ones here are you and him. the target of your sentence is obvious.
but dan heng doesn't take the bait, barely looks away from the entry he is currently authoring. still, he spares you a glance and hums glibly, “are you projecting? if so, feel free to use my bed in the meantime.”
you let out a noise, something gibberish that conveys disappointment but it is effectively drowned out by the typing noises. “you haven't even touched the food i bought you,” your voice becomes mellow, “why don't you rest for a while?”
he isn't convinced, you think, since his fingers are still hard at work. the new info the team brought back must've been a lot if he's that focused.
“dan heng?” you try again, hopeful for the last time. you don't take him for a fool, of course, he'll know when he reaches his limit and have proper rest then. but would that really be ideal? a second passes and that hope flickers like a dimming light. but just an inch before the edge of giving up, the typing slows to a stop.
“. . .alright,” he murmurs. finally, after a good hour spent drawing patterns on his backside with your eyes, dan heng turns around to face you. he look tense, you note with abject concern.
“here,” you usher him to your lap, empty and conveniently so. dan heng shoots you a blank look - this isn't the first time you offered and this isn't the first time he reacted like that. you try to suppress a laugh, failing gloriously at it. “just for a little bit,” you utter through a stifled fit of chuckles.
dan heng shakes his head, not in rejection but in defeat. his eyes slip close, second nature, as he leans to situate his head on your lap. you welcome him with a hum and let your fingers card through his hair. a calm sigh falls from his lips like a water droplet in springtime.
“this. . . is nice,” he admits, sudden and unprompted. you nearly doubt your ears for a moment there. did he— “i don't hate it is, uhm, what i mean to say,” dan heng adds and it dawns on you that your ears are still working. his eyes are still closed, not that you'd expect anything else, he prefers to treat it as a shield from being face-to-face with embarrassment.
(or to avoid your ecstatic gaze. he can feel warmth rushing to his cheeks already.)
“i know,” you smile, brushing away a few messy strands from his forehead. he isn't an open book but you think you've read the pages enough to remember all the little details. “but thanks for telling me. i'm no mind reader but i think i can read yours pretty well.”
“i shall provide no further comment,” he holds back an incredulous exhale, yet his lips still curl slightly at the corner. you feel the teeniest desire to trace the curve of his lips with your fingertip but settle for silently admiring them instead.
“it's fine. i know the answer already,” you say, words dripping with affection. such a shame dan heng never looks up at you during a time like this. because if he did, he wouldn't have missed seeing the sheer fondness in your gaze that rains down on him in light showers. a true shame.
(one day, he'll gather the courage. maybe.)
— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. ♡
#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#dr ratio x reader#dr ratio x you#sunday x reader#sunday x you#dan heng x reader#dan heng x you#hsr fluff#hsr headcanons#hsr imagines#seelestial.inks
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
"Need help sweetheart?" Bookstore Customer!Jason Todd helps you reach the books on the higher shelves. You were his favorite employee and he wanted to make your day easier. He'd been coming here for a while but you always forgot how tall he was and how good his body felt pressed against yours. You only knew how to mumble out a couple words because you didn't know what else to say to a man like that. "Uh sir, you don't need to-"
"Please call me anything but sir sweetheart, you know I'm not new here"
Bookstore Customer!Jason enjoyed teasing his favorite employee aka you of course. He teases you about working at the bookstore even though he's constantly there and he'll always be flirting with you even if you're working the counter that day. He knows he's holding up the line but he's a paying customer so he doesn't care.
"How's my favorite pretty girl doing?"
"M'tired today Jay, I can't handle your nonsense right now"
"Okay that was mean- wait, Jay? that's a first"
"Buy a book or get out Jason"
You could easily tell Jason liked classics and poetry but for some reason he was willing to read your favorites even if they were a smut-filled mess. One time, he backed you up into a corner, after reading one of those books you liked, "Hmm, you like this kind of shit baby? cause I can do all that to you and so much more"
Over time, you learned that Jason also likes to follow you to the store, whispering to you about all the things he could do to you if you'd let him. His hand is always on your hips, pressing his body fully into you. He knows you like it especially when you roll your hips into his when nobody's looking. He wishes you'd use your words and just say you were his but he knew he wasn't even close to getting that, at least not yet.
Jason tried to buy a new book every week, sometimes not even to read. He needed an excuse to be there since your boss has never been fond of him ever since he had caught him feeling you up near the back shelves once. He learned his lesso so now he purposefully buys the books you like, just so he can watch you ramble on and on about them without getting kicked out of the store.
Bookstore Customer!Jason thrived on the feeling he got from watching you go from being so nonchalant around him to the most talkative girl in the world. he wants you comfortable if he's going to fuck you. You find yourself shutting up one time because you thought you had bored him but he quickly gets rid of that thought for you, "Keep talking sweetheart, I'm just wondering how pretty your mouth would look with my cock stuffed down your throat"
"Jay I don't- I can't- I haven't-"
"Don't worry, you will and I'm sure you're a fast learner"
It wasn't that hard for you to notice that Jason got a little jealous when his brother Dick hits on you the first and last time he brings him to the bookstore. Dick easily chats you up and Jason watches the two become a bit too friendly for his liking but it wasn't his place to speak, "Now I see why my little brother brings home so many books"
"It's good he does, I like guys who read"
"I actually quite the fan of classic literature-"
"Oh shut up Dick"
Bookstore Customer!Jason had all your coworkers wondering if you'll ever let the poor guy hit. They weren't sure if Jason was interested in you or your body, regardless they couldn't ignore the smile you got whenever he walk in. Or the way you'd laugh at his dumb jokes. You had him on a leash and you didn't even know what to do with him. He's begging to take you out or just even spent a night with you. He didn't just want you, he needed you. "C'mon I promise to take care of you princess, I'll even take you to that little coffee shop in Bludhaven"
"Who told you about that?!"
"…Dick"
When he finally manages to convince you to let him kiss you, you're nervous as fuck. You thought this was just another one of his antics but no, this was real. He'd promised to stop hitting on you if you felt nothing and you should've know it was bad idea when you could hear your own heartbeat still your let his lips touch yours. It was such a bad idea because before you knew it, he's got you pushed up against the wall, leg parting your thighs with your hands gripping at his shirt. "Jay, more please" Suddenly after all this time, you're pleading for him. Oh how the tables have turned. You're begging for all he's got, and you know he has so much more to give.
"Just give me a moment baby, got be patient" Within a matter of minutes your pants are discarded on the floor, and your panties are still on but being pushed aside while two fingers are being pumped in and out of your pussy. He's got one hand on your hips holding you down while one of your legs is wrapped around his waist. "Didn't I tell you I could do some much for you baby?"
You nod quickly while he's sucking on your poor neck, that would definitely be red all tomorrow. you feel his teeth sink into your skin, not too hard but rough enough to leave a mark. "Now keep quiet, I don't want any of your coworkers hearing us back here" The next thing you know you're cumming on the boy's fingers and he wants you to do it again. and again. and possibly 50 more times if you're willing.
The next time Jason comes, he's holding what you think is flowers and you know he'll be your victim today.
"So I thought real flowers would be cheesy and you'd probably not want to take care of em, so my brothers taught me how to make these paper flowers and…here just take them"
"Wow, I'm getting hand-crafted flowers from THE Jason Todd? Someone must have a really big crush on me huh? Are those bandaids on your fingers? Want me to kiss your boo-boos? "
"Are you going to finally go out with me or do I have to make you cum-"
"Yes yes! Just do not finish that sentence out loud"
"You are soooooooooo in love me"
"Jay, get out"
#✩ kleo's kollection ✩#divider by cafekitsune#jason todd#jason todd x you#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x reader#jason todd smut#jason todd imagine#jason todd fanfiction#red hood#red hood x fem!reader#red hood x female reader#red hood x you#red hood x reader#red hood x y/n#red hood smut#red hood imagine#dc x y/n#dc x you#dc x reader#dc comics#dick grayson cameo#dick grayson is a professional yapper
3K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
biblaboo
rockstar
4meu
sweet witches
themidnightmurderparty
Dirty Pretty Things
jaythefallenrobin
The Carousel of confusion
