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darkdemeter · 4 months

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WOLF AT YOUR DOOR

The DARK DEMETER WRITING CATALOGUE, WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN (ONESHOT) #1 —

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader

A/N — I thought that this idea would be my smut ice breaker after it popped into my head when listening to some music. I have written smut before but it's been a while, especially in a form for others to read; so please excuse me if I'm a little rusty. This isn't exactly tied to anything particular regarding either Habits or Convict, but you may interpret this x reader however you wish. Have fun with the oneshot! I've tried to keep this as both descriptive and gender neutral as possible, but it may not be as on par with people who have become well accustomed to writing gn smut.

WORD COUNT — 4.2k

READER DISCRETION — Enemies to lovers trope — profanity — wounded reader, mention of scars and blood — semi dom! Wanda and sub! reader & reversal — smut 18+, minors DNI** — angry/aggressive sex — dry humping — bondage — hinted breeding kink — semi-clothed sex — fingering and mouth oral receiving (Wanda recieving) — Wanda is just a tease to reader — maybe dubious consent? (I feel like I should put this in here, just to be safe) — minor choking — talk of marking — potential grammar and punctuation errors — I think that's it?

SUMMARY — Of course this had to happen right before this mission. Wanda Maximoff had to pry inside your mind, searching for who knows what, the little witch did this to you. And now you will cash in on your promise - your one and only warning to her if she ever fucked with your mind: that you'll be a wolf at her door. Little do you know that you're a wolf walking into a trap.

‘Fucking dammit!’

You cringe to hide the snarl snaking up your throat, your palm harshly pressing into the bullet wound at your shoulder. A real fucking close call this time and all because of her. Yes, everything would have been fine had Wanda not pried into your mind, invaded the personal sanctity of your thoughts.

But no. No, she had to just take a little peek didn’t she? And because of that, your mind was elsewhere - distracted - and your cover was blown before you could get the information you needed. In short, the mission was a complete fucking bust. Your report will undoubtedly be met by less than impressed superiors. When they brought you on, they expected the job done.

It was your way to operate. You always got the job done successfully. Has Wanda purposely sabotaged you? Is that her goal?

You’re planning to confront her on the matter right now. You had stumbled all the way back to the compound because the car you took there was blown to pieces when you were compromised. Tony wasn’t going to be very pleased about that either. Shit, it’s like she’s trying to get everyone against you.

‘Who does she think she is? Fucking me over like this!’

You enter the compound, the main level vacant except the night shift receptionist. She glances up at you and the sheer gasp of horror from her, you point a finger at her. “I’m fucking fine,” you snarl as you strut past her. Your hand leaves your shoulder to the large cut across your stomach. You allow a pained whimper to escape when you enter the privacy of the elevator to take you up to your chosen floor.

Your ears ring in the deafening silence, breath fast paced and light. The wounds were of no dire measure to pay a trip to the medical ward. They only fuelled your anger towards Wanda. Ever since you first joined the team, Wanda always had a way to test your limits and push your buttons.

It was just a common sight to see you both butting heads, whether that was during missions or at the compound. You both were always at each other, hackles raised and snarky comments. Of course, what was your conflict but a cover up to fatal attraction? That was the running theory of your fellow teammates, anyway. Never would you admit anything to them in any case.

Wanda was a pain in your arse as much as you were a mongrel to her.

Ah, that word: mongrel. Wanda favoured the use of that word for you. It was her name for you. The way you feel the fur beneath your skin bristle each time she calls you that is the reason why you now have to wear a shock collar. Anytime that the device would detect your body’s indicating factors of shifting, the shock would startle you and evade the transformation.

Was it humane? No, not really. But did it give Wanda the power to only torment you further without repercussions? You fucking bet it did.

The elevator pings and the doors open with a faint whoosh as you arrive on your floor. You immediately make your way towards her dormitory, which by incident, is temporarily yours as well.

There was a small situation last week that left your own dormitory in such a wreck that Tony had you bunk with Wanda until he could fix and reinstate stronger materials to withstand your rage episodes.

And you have only one person to blame for that particular incident.

Your fist pounds on the door enough to shake it against the hinges. Your key didn’t work. She had the security chain engaged to keep you out. You can hear her inside, her voice is soft and fuck, if it didn’t aggravate you anymore than you already were it surely made something in your abdomen twitch and churn.

‘That little–’

“Wanda!” you bark behind bared teeth, fangs pronounced in the mix of your frustration, you pound on the door again. “Open this fucking door, now!”

After a moment, and she was taking her time, you can hear the leisurely patter of her feet as she opens the door for you. She stands before you and the scent hits you. For a few seconds it disorientates you, you huff to regain control of your senses.

“You fucking bitch,” you rasp, voice laced with your utter disdain for the woman who stood in your way; blocking your path.

Her eyes were smirking first before the corner of her lips twitched into position. “How was the mission, mongrel?”

“A bust, thanks to you.” You growl down at her as you brush beside her to let yourself in. She closes and locks the door.

“Why’d you do it, Wanda?” You watch her as she walks past you. When she doesn’t answer, you snatch hold of her wrist as you ask her again, tone far more venomous than before.

“I didn’t do anything.” She pulls her wrist from your grip and continues on her merry way.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, witch! You did it on purpose, I know you did.” You point at her accusingly, the shake in your arm causes a streak of pain to shoot through your shoulder and you yelp. You press a blood stained glove to it again, teeth clenched hard that your jaw flexes.

Wanda holds up her hands in mock surrender. “Right, blame me, of course that’s the logical thing to do. You just can’t admit that you failed to do the job.”

That’s struck a deep nerve because you’re pulled away from your original plan to grab a glass and your whiskey and head for the shower. Instead, you engage Wanda. Your hands encircle her wrists and the entirety of your body pins her against the back of the couch.

The aftershock of the collar is a distant sting in the heat of the moment. Wanda is close, so close against you that with a breathy intake of air, her breasts push up into your ribcage. She eyes the vibrant hue of your glowing eyes.

Still, she silently denies she had anything to do with it. Did she do it on purpose? You have to know.

“You– you read my fucking mind, Maximoff!” you hiss your accusation, “I told you to keep your magic away from there, but no, you had to go poking around.”

Your hands move to grip her forearms and for the first time ever, she flinches. Your breath hitches in your throat and the glow dissipates from your eyes.

There was much more you wanted to say. But the way her body flinched beneath your iron grip, how for a sliver of a second you swear you saw the ember of fear. Did you really scare her?

But then why did she smell like that?

‘Fuck, she smells like…’

With a deep breath through your nose, you lean forward until your lips brush the shell of her ear. “Stay out of my head, Maximoff.”

‘No.’

The glow returns to your eyes and the urge to shift right there crawls beneath, it feels like your skin is on fire. The collar whirrs in warning to keep your transformation at bay, lest you need another shocking reminder.

“Wanda–”

“So you’re really going to ignore the fact you heard me moaning your name before?” You hear the challenge in her light, accented voice.

The animalistic growl in your throat ceases immediately, eyes wide and despite your dominating position, you feel like the one under her. She smirks again. “Come on, what’s wrong?”

She arches her neck - baring it to you - as she tries to press her lips to your own ear. She whispers with a sultry purr. “Don’t you want to mark me anymore, Wolf?”

Now it was your turn to be the one that flinches. Why is she doing this?

You retract yourself swiftly as if she caused you some semblance of physical pain that made you release her. In some form, she did. That pang of arousal deep within you begins to awaken and you don’t like the smug look on her face as she sits herself up.

She tries to act cute and innocent when she is anything but that. But her eyes compel you with the flutter of her dark lashes. Was she casting a spell on you?

You back off slowly, eyes trained on her as she takes one step forward. Then another. And another few after that. You watch her hand gingerly play with the tight knot of her short, silky bathrobe. Only now did you realise exactly how short it was on her, the hem of it grazing just above the middle of her thighs. No wonder her scent was so strong, there were barely any layers to conceal it.

She wanted this to happen.

“You know what they say about us,” she tries but you’re quick to shut it down. “There is nothing between us.” Your conviction is absolute on the matter. Even if there was a hint of attraction towards the woman in front of you, surely the others would have something to say about it; all of which would disapprove. You’d not gained a wisdom linking you to your supposed mate which gave you ample opportunity to sleep with whoever and however many you wanted.

But you never did. You continue to stare at Wanda, unblinking with a narrowed gaze. She shakes her head. Of course, she isn’t going to take your word for it easily. No, like always, she would fight you over it.

“But you want there to be.” She sounds so sure of herself. She is still stalking towards you. When did you become a prey and her the hunter? You give no response and this only gives her more power to do as she sees fit.

“If it weren’t for that collar around your neck, you would have me bent over the couch right now.” You hold a hand out as you call for her to stop. She halts in her advance, head tilting to the side like a confused puppy. She flutters those lashes again and your breath feels heavy, swollen because of your conflicted arousal and confusion.

“That is one of your fantasies, isn’t it?”

“I said stop,” you warn, slowly lowering your hand, “whatever you’re playing at right now, I want no part.” You see her lips fall open as she offers a toothy grin. “I’m just trying to understand why you fight this.”

“I’m not fighting anything,” you say quickly with a shake of your head. “No?” she purrs lowly with a quirk of her brow. Shrugging, she raises a hand up. “Then you won’t fight this.”

The ambient glow of her magic orbits around her hand as she swipes her arm to the side. Your brows furrow and mouth falls agape, the clicking of your belt looped around your tactical pants is quick before the strap of leather is flying to the side, to some forgotten corner of the common area.

Your eyes that bore witness to your belt coming undone fly up to meet Wanda’s, a protest on the tip of your tongue, you’re stopped short when you’re knocked back. Your arse, which you expect to get planted on the floor, is instead caught by one of the dining table’s chairs. Your arms are restrained by her magic to keep them pinned behind you.

“W-Wanda, what are you–”

She shushes you while she catches up to you, her steps slow and methodical. Her stare penetrates the darkest recess of your soul and you recoil beneath it. The pain of your wounds as they begin their process of healing are long forgotten now. You have other things to worry about, how much Wanda actually knows about you and what she intends to do with you.

“I want you to admit it,” she hums in a low whisper that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand. She was playing on your fantasies. The fucking witch.

“Admit what?” You force the words out through the biting of your clenched jaws.

“That there is something between us. That each time we fight it’s because we’re denying that attraction. That the wolf needs me to satiate its appetite because we both know I am the only thing that can.”

Wanda stands between the gap of your spread legs, she swipes her hand quickly and the lapels of your coat and tactical vest are torn open by the will of her magic. You exhale sharply, a growl pulling through your teeth as you glare at Wanda between the narrowed slits of your eyes. She drinks in the sight of your bare chest before her, the way each of the muscles flex beneath the skin, the heat of your body practically rising off your skin like hot springs. The red streaks of blood from your wound peeking out just beneath the fabric of your gear.

“Wanda.” You’re panting now, anger turned into the vulnerability that was your aroused state of mind.

That was why you never gave into those temptations. Why you dismiss that flirtatious bartender at every turn whenever she sees you in that bar, why those who have asked for your number, you give them either the number of some Chinese takeout restaurant or even one of your teammates.

The threat of such vulnerability and intimacy was too great of a target on your back. She moves to straddle your lap, hands pressed to your exposed chest.

“Admit it,” she says again and you snarl at her. “Never! There’s nothing to admit!”

She giggles then and rolls her hips forward and down against your crotch.

“F-fuck!” you stutter, your arms and chest strain forward but Wanda has you contained. Trapped. Like some common dog. A mongrel.

“Still nothing between us?” she asks, voice laden with a soft whimper, her purpose is to make you crack; to give in and admit to everything she knows. As if lying would spurn her when she knows the truth.

Why does she want you to admit it so badly? Because she wants to torment you, it’s so simple.

“N-no,” you grunt only to hiss beneath your breath when she rolls her hips again, this time with more pressure. You swear you feel the pulsing of her clit against the coarse fabric of your pants.

You do all you can to refrain from bucking your hips or else you were done for.

“So you mean to tell me that you haven’t fantasised about…,” she trails off with a pout of her lips, feigning that innocent look of contemplation. “For fuck’s sake,” you drawl as your head falls back.

She’s killing you. Slowly but surely she is killing you.

She continues, “being out here in the kitchen, late at night, drinking your whiskey alone before I come out here in a short, little bathrobe…”

‘Oh… fuck.’

That was a recent fantasy.

Her fingers drag down the ravine of your heated skin on show for her to then fiddle with the two threads that held her bathrobe together. “Wearing this?” You shouldn’t have looked but fucking hell, you were always the a little too curious for your own good.

She’s tugged the knot loose and lets the silky fabric roll off her shoulders and down to her elbows. If this was all to be considered as some strange, aroused induced coincidence then that is out the window now. Because there is no fucking way she knew to pick a lingerie set in your favourite colour.

You tilt your chin toward her only slightly and let your glowing eyes take in her form. The moment she arches her neck the slightest is when you lose it.

You lunge your neck forward, your canines bared and at the ready to mark the junction between neck and shoulder, to litter her neck with dark bruises so she wouldn’t be able to hide them. But you’re stopped short yet again in your advance. Her magic prevents you, mere inches away. To top it all off, she chuckles.

She’s cracked you.

You growl, the sound husky and deep in your chest.

“Fucking– let me–” Your muscles strain and flex as you fight the barrier of her magic to no avail. She tuts you softly, moving herself slightly forward so that her arms push her breasts up to elevate her cleavage to become more pronounced. Damn her. She continues to roll her hips in a slowed motion, riding you out into your confession.

“Shall I continue?”

“No!” The single word sends a thrilling chill down her spine. “Then admit it.”

“No,” you answer again, this time with a more levelled tone.

Her fingers move to the fly of your pants as you let out a confused whine as she loosens them slightly. Her palm presses flush against the junction between your thighs and you moan. And that sound is the most exquisite sound Wanda has ever heard you make. For a battle-hardened wolf, wild and untamed and a proven danger to the public, nobody would suspect that you were capable of such noises. But Wanda knew.

Her palm is small in comparison to you, and as much force as she uses now there is a level of delicacy she retains. Your resolve is crumbling quickly. You jolt forward again with your mouth ajar to mark her but she stops you and arches back.

“Let me have you!”

“I’ll let you have me, play out all your little fantasies with me. But I want you to indulge in mine, first. So… admit it and I’m all yours.”

Was she fucking serious? This is her fantasy? Well, you never expected her to be into something like this. “Ah, fuck…” She hears your mumbling, any moment now you are about to surrender.

She just needs to push that last little bit.

“Just think about it, Wolf,” she whispers, lips dancing over yours, one of her hands placing a single finger between your lips to keep them from meeting. “I’m all yours if you just say it. Tell me what I want to hear, and you can have your little midnight snack right here. You can have me over the couch, in the shower and in your bed until the tousled sheets smell of nothing but sex.”

Fuck, where did she learn to talk so filthy?

“I can’t,” you say behind a heavy pant. She whines quietly in your ear as her other hand that’s palming you stops, but her hips continue to roll against that sensitive region. At this point, you’re chasing your climax right there. Who knows if she will keep to her word after she indulges in her twisted fantasy.

You shift your eyes to watch her hand that rests between your bodies and you almost lose yourself to your high. Her hand dips beneath the lacey fabric of her lingerie, her fingers sliding over her folds and thumb rolling her clit in circles; all of which is left to the beauty of your imagination.

“Wanda, don’t test me!” Your words are a command; a warning that she doesn’t heed. “But this is a test.” Your brows furrow, confusion etched into your face. “To see if you can be broken in.”

Was that all you were to her? Something to be broken in?

She begins to make those sounds again. The same chorus of moans and pleas with your name as a choked gasp on the edge of her vocals. You overheard her masturbating when you first banged on the door to be let in.

And she was doing it to the thought of you.

“Wanda!” you hiss, your hips finally buck up to meet the hunger of her own that roll with such fervour, you believe she was so close to getting off right there in your lap. “Y/N, oh f-fuck, Y/N!” she gasps out, “right there, just like that– oh shit!”

“Fuck, I admit it!”

Everything stops all at once and your chest heaves numerous times. The air is thick to your lungs and each intake makes you feel like you’re drowning more than anything. Wanda stares at you, silently, her eyes searching yours when you finally look back at her beneath that wolfish glare. How that stare made her wet in her panties every time.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” You scowl at her teasing words. The moment you feel her magic cease is when you pin her against the dining table behind her. She props herself up on her elbows, the loose fabric of her robe still clinging to her form but she was exposed in that cute lingerie set.

Like a hungry wolf, your tongue licks over your teeth and along the top of your lips. You groan as her aroused scent wafts up, the smell irresistible.

“You’re a damn tease, you know that?” She chuckles beneath her airy breaths. “It was the only way to get you to confess.”

Your hand clasps hold of her throat. Oh, how you love the look of fear and lust on her face all at once. It was a sight only you would get to see. “And I have a million ways to ruin you,” you growl lowly, “now you’re in my fantasy, Maximoff and if you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into by letting the wolf at your door inside, then you know I’m always rough.”

“I’m counting on it,” she wheezes behind the firm pressure you apply to her throat. “Good. Now keep them spread, Maximoff or you’ll learn what rough is real quick.”

She does as you say and spreads her legs open and you sink to your knees, even then given your height difference, you are at perfect level with her soaked cunt, the large, dark patch evident of how badly she wanted this all along. This whole time.

Your clawed fingers none too gently rip the panties aside, fabric tearing from the sheer force of it. Wanda’s hands find themselves clenching fistfuls of your hair, tugging you in closer with a needy whimper of your name.

Her legs hook over your shoulders, mewling when you pepper her inner thighs with kisses and playful bites with your sharp canines, a rumble of a groan reverberating between her legs causes her to quiver. “Y/N, please!” she pleads.

“Ooh, what’s this?” you chuckle, “don’t worry, Sweetheart, I’ll give you a taste.”

You slide a finger past her slick folds, her walls tighten around your single digit. You groan when her moan makes her pussy clench your finger tighter. “Shit, Wanda, I’ve barely done a thing yet.”

“Then do something!” she hisses and you give her that same, wolfish glare. “D-don’t look at me like– ahh!”

She is at your mercy now when you begin thrusting your finger back and forth, soon adding another two through the folds. She whines and moans, cursing your name and praising your work. When you pull your now slick covered fingers from her pussy, she tries to protest but the replacement is swift; and in her lust-ridden opinion, far better. Her eyes roll back and she lays flat on her back against the table as your tongue laps at her cunt, tip teasing the bud of nerves. You growl again and fuck, if she didn’t make the sexiest, neediest sound ever at that. You continue with what’s working at getting your little witch off. Her breath comes in short pants and her legs quiver as they move to circle around your head. Her fingers curl tighter against your roots as she chokes out, “I-I’m cum–cumming!”

You purr against the flood of her orgasm, lapping her divine juices up with your tongue. She breathes heavily for a moment in regaining her composure. You pull your head, albeit, struggling to pry her hands and legs from around you, you crash your lips against hers. The kiss is passionate, fuelled by hunger shared by both parties. Her mouth invites you and you gladly force your tongue past her parted lips, letting her taste herself on your tongue.

You rut your hips between her still spread legs and they envelop you, encouraging the rocking motion with eagerness. “I still fucking hate that you read my mind and all,” you mumble into the kiss.

‘Even when I say that I've also thought about carrying your pups?’

Your smirk with a coarse chuckle, dark in its intentions and your eyes glow that colour that brings Wanda to her knees. “Naughty witch, don’t test me there. Those will be my pups you're swollen with.”

She tilts her head again but this time, you see no intent to tease in her eyes. No intent to…

“This isn’t a test.”

Fucking hell, that wolfish smirk of yours could make anyone wet at the drop of a hat. Too bad for others, because Wanda had you wrapped around her witchy, little finger that danced with magic.

Magic that just so happens to unlock the shackle around your neck. Well, the wolf at the door is now off its chain.

Thank you for Reading! (◕ ᴥ x)

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST —

@alexawynters

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cherrychilli · 6 months

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18+

Eddie Munson, AFAB reader, "shy" reader, flashing, public setting

A/N: My first Eddie blurb, yay! I'm very rusty but I'm trying to get back into writing with some short blurbs so I'm starting off a little light before I dive back into full on filth and debauchery.

Thinking about...

Eddie and his girlfriend who's often too shy to initiate all the naughty things she wants to do with him.

That is until the sexual tension building inside you reaches an all time high one night when he's on stage performing - your own personal kryptonite.

It's almost too much for you to handle, staring longingly at his skilled fingers as they move deftly over the frets of his guitar, a light sheen of sweat making his neck gleam enticingly under the stage lights, shirt riding up so that his stomach and happy trail peek through.

You loved watching Eddie perform, seeing him shine and thrive in his element and look good doing it. Ripples of want had been coursing through you all night, turning into waves as the gig continued, morphing into a storm of desire swirling wildly inside you until you're finally able to cast your inhibitions aside and work up the nerve to do something you've been fantasizing about since watching him perform the very first time, since before he'd even asked you to be his girlfriend.

You flash him.

Hooking your thumbs underneath the hem of your top, pulling both it and the thin lace bra you'd been wearing underneath up over your breasts smoothly. For all the care and effort you'd put into picking out the pretty lingerie for when you'd be alone together with Eddie in his van after the show, you decided this would be a better way to surprise him in the end.

You're at the back of the bar, all eyes on Eddie and the band, everyone else too caught up in the music to notice the girl with her tits out, thankfully. But your boyfriend's eyes had kept returning to you all night while he was up there on stage so when he looks to you again after nailing his solo, searching for your pretty face and your sweet, shy smile in the crowd he gawps when instead he's met with the sight of your exposed breasts and the big proud grin plastered on your face. He's seen them before, sure; been rendered thoughtless at the sight your pebbled nipples and your soft breasts but this? in a room full of people too preoccupied to know any better? risk and thrill intertwining and all for him? it nearly does poor Eddie in.

It's long time fantasy of his come true, made even better because it was you who'd done it and now that it's actually happened, Eddie's so caught up in it that his fingers fumble over the guitar strings, jumbled notes and chords blaring out of the amp but the botched melody fails to catch his notice for he's still too busy staring at your tits.

Some of the audience members begin murmuring and tilting their heads in confusion at how the front man's lost his composure in the span of a couple of seconds and you decide you've had your fun, pulling your clothes back down in time for Eddie to snap out of his dazed stupor and finish the song the way it was meant to be played, all while his cheeks blazed bright red.

There's still a couple of songs left to be played in the set after that but instead, he announces that the band will be taking a quick break over the mic, hopping off stage and making his way over to you.

"Baby, I can't believe you did that", he exclaimed excitedly under his breath once he'd shuffled through the crown in record time, his hands set on your waist, smile impossibly wide, and eyes bright with a telltale glimmer.

"I've always wanted to do that", you confessed with hot cheeks, adrenaline still strong in your veins. "Ever since I first watched you on stage".

Eddie gives you a look, a mix of impress and adoration playing on his features.

"Who knew my sweet, shy girl had it in her?", he pulls you closer, close enough for you to feel that part of him press against your hip.

"Eddie..." , you flustered, quickly glancing around the crowded bar to make sure no one was watching the two of you.

It's obvious he's dying to slip his hands underneath your clothes and touch you and your body burns hot with the same need. He leans in, lips to your ear as he whispers, "How about we head to the van a little early? Y' can gimme a private show this time"

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson x reader

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historiaxvanserra · 10 months

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please pleASE PLEASE FINISH THOSE NIGHT TIME HC. IM BEGGING BABY PLEASE

Midnights | Nighttime Headcanon's

I totally forgot I added this to my masterlist and never finished it! It's been a while since i've written any hc's so forgive me if i'm a little rusty.

Rhysand

Rhys is usually busy with his High Lord duties throughout most of the day so you don't see each other during busier days.

So nighttime becomes somewhat sacred as it is the only time you have his undivided attention.

Rhys is a bit of a night owl, and sometimes even when he's dead tired he'll procrastinate sleep just to spend more time together.

Night times are spent sharing stories about your days, lounging in bed with your Mate, doing your joint nighttime face routines (Rhy's is very extensive)

Eventually you'll settle into bed and drift to sleep in your Mates arms.

Azriel

Azriel hardly sleeps, and when he does it's not until the early hours of the morning.

Sometimes you have to bribe him to step away from his work and just come to bed.

When he does give in he is often dead tired and therefore very affectionate.

Not that he isn't regularly but sleepy Az is a different type of affectionate.

His guilty pleasure is taking a hot bath with you and using lots of soaps and oils to help him relax.

He practically melts into the water as he releases all the tension he's been holding.

You'll wash his hair and his wings and when you're done he'll take you to bed where he'll climb into the warm sheets basically curl around you like a cat often muttering praises and thanks into your skin as he gives in to sleep.

Cassian

Cassian works hard everyday and often his work is much more physical than anyone else in the inner circle.

He trains himself every single day on top of training everyone else, often he spends the majority of his day in the ring practising new techniques and strategies.

This often leaves him physically and emotionally exhausted at the end of the day.

His favourite part of his day is when the sun goes down and he can come home to you.

Usually he'll find you in the kitchen preparing a meal for you both.

Some primal part of him secretly loves the thought of you taking care of him like this, but he also loves that you're a strong and independent and could definitely put him on his ass in the training ring.

He'll often just watch you as you prepare the meal or sometimes he'll help out even though he's a terrible cook and definitely more of a hindrance than anything else.

Other days he'll immediately go and take a shower to wash off the days dirt and change into something more comfortable.

By the time you sit down to a meal with him the moon is usually high in the sky.

You'll enjoy a glass of wine as you watch Cassian clear away the dishes before he'll take you to bed.

Often you'll end up laying in bed talking until one of you falls asleep.

And after a particualrly hard day sometimes he won't say anything at all, just curl into you as you run your fingers through his hair until he starts to melt into your touch and gives in to sleep.

Eris

Eris is always busy he has so many duties and responsibilities to fulfil that he hardly finds the time for it all

That usually leaves him pretty tense though he can't let that show in front of his father.

Only when he is in the safety of his apartments can he let the mask slip a little and be the real Eris.

That usually involves coming back to his rooms at night and enjoying an hour or two of comfortable silence with you.

This usually consists of the two of your wrapped up together by the fire, maybe reading, maybe just enjoying each others presence and other times it involves the two of your surrounded by a pile of sleepy hounds.

Either way Eris is happiest in these moments, unburdened by his title or the weight of his responsibilities.

It's these simple, quiet moments he lives for.

His nights usually end with you un-braiding his hair and brushing it through before retiring to bed where Eris reads long into the night, one hand wrapped around you as you sleep peacefully.

Lucien

Lucien is more of a morning person, so he usually keeps a pretty consistent nighttime routine and never really stays up too late.

Lucien likes to finish his work for the day pretty early if he can.

He likes to take some time out in nature as dusk begins to settle, he might walk, or ride, or just sit, that all depends on the day really and he enjoys to do this alone though he will often invite you along.

He enjoys the sense of freedom it brings and the calm of being in the open air.

Lucien gets home and immediately melts into his favourite chair by the fire where he might read but often he prefers to sit and drink and talk with you, and sometimes his two closest friends, Jurian and Vassa.

Often this leads to loud recounting of epic tales and lots of laughter that drifts through the house.

When everyone else retires for the night Lucien will take you back to your room, draw a bath, which you usually end up joining him before retiring to bed.

He's usually dead tired by this point so it doesn't take long before he's sleeping, snoring lightly and drifting into dreams.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #eris vanserra #azriel x reader #azriel x you #eris x reader #eris x you #cassian x reader #lucien vandaddy #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien headcanons #eris headcanons #cassain headcanons #azriel headcanons

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narcissisticmf · 1 year

Text

tender | chris sturniolo x fem!reader

request: ""i love you." "what?" "i love you and it terrifies me." with chris s? tyyy!!" from anonymous

description: after having a conversation with y/n, chris reveals his feelings.

trigger warnings: mentions of anxiety, subtle angst, mostly fluff, foul language, etc.

word count: <1k

"Did you seriously have to say that in front of all those people?" You laughed as you and Chris both slipped through the exit doorway of a convenience store. The air was brisk and caused the skin on your face to tighten. As you released breaths, it appeared like smoke in the cool atmosphere.

"Hey, it wasn't on purpose!" Chris giggled as the two of you held the paper bags of snacks you had gotten for the triplets, since they'd be filming one of their car videos later that night. "My voice just carries!" He continued laughing.

"Yeah, whatever," You rolled your eyes as soft chuckles began to escape your mouth.

"Before we head back home, do you wanna head to the lake for a little while? I know you haven't seen much around here, so.." Chris trailed off as you began to smile.

"Sure," You nodded as the two of you walked along the paved sidewalk. The store wasn't far from their house in Boston, so you decided on walking and Chris reassured you that the lake wasn't far.

Along the side of a back road, sat a babbling brook that ran through the trees. It was a gentle scene with doves mourning in song and bees buzzing in the air. It looked as though it was a scene written out of a book or from a movie. You smiled at the way the water danced across the rocks poking out from under the shallow parts.

"I wouldn't have expected such a beautiful place around here," You admitted.

"Me either," Chris pressed his lips together as he admired the way you observed everything.

"It's so green," You released in a breath.

There was a rusty old bench that sat right before the water and you ushered Chris to follow you towards it. He obliged and took a seat with you on it, after you did. It was small so you were fairly close to one another.

"It smells like spring, like.. you know when the grass is freshly cut and stuff," Your pupils dilated as you watched the water. It settled your mind and for a mere second you had forgotten about all your anxieties and all the tasks you knew you needed to get done.

Chris sniffed as he had his eyes on your profile, it took you a bit of time to take note of his staring.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" You furrowed your brow.

He laughed nervous, "Nothing."

"How'd you find this place?" You asked, curiously.

"Nick likes to come here a lot," He replied. You nodded with a soft smile and turned your head back to watch the water.

There was stillness for a while. The only sound came from the gurgling water.

"Y/N," Chris started and you turned your head to face him.

"Yeah?" You asked, your gaze was relaxed.

"I think I.." He trailed off, trying to figure out how to piece his words together with great care.

"You what?" You urged.

He swallowed a lump that built in his throat and stared at you, "I love you."

It came so suddenly and you didn't know how to react, "What?"

Chris released a breath, "I love you and it terrifies me. I haven't ever done or felt any of this before and it's always been because I've been so scared an' shit. But every time I try to push down these feelings, they always come back up, no matter how hard I try to push them away. It's like a cursed boomerang."

You chuckled lightly and stared at him with a warm gaze.

"I guess I'm just scared of what this could do to you and me if we don't work out. I love being your friend, but I also hate seeing other people look at you the way I do," He spoke softly.

"How long?" You questioned.

"What?"

"How long have you felt like this?"

Chris thought for a moment, staring into the distance, "I met you two years ago, right?" You nodded and he continued, "Two years. I guess the only thing that's been keeping me from telling you is–"

"I love you too," You interrupted with a soft growing smile. Chris was shocked and said nothing, his lips parted gently as you leaned over to implant a kiss to his cold skin.

After you pulled back slightly, Chris stared at you, "This is crazy."

"I know," You nodded, "But it'll be okay. We'll be okay. I promise."

a/n: hi angels!! thank you so much for this request! it definitely gave me a new challenge because in all honesty i was super unsure of how to execute this properly. based on how chris comes across, i've always gotten the vibe that he's terrified of commitment and being in a relationship in general, which is totally normal for a lot of people and i hope this piece captured that well enough! thank you so much for 1k once again!! i love you all so dearly. — angelina.

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dead-slander · 2 months

Text

A night to remember

Little authors note: This is my first fanfiction I've wrote in years. Hope people enjoy this fanfiction as I might be a bit rusty haha. smut was always my strong suit as I'm a little perv so I figured my first post should be that :0

Summary: The group has just gotten to the prison, it's the first time anyone has felt safe in a long time. You and Daryl have been getting closer and closer. You end up sharing his tent and you both find out how much you enjoy each other's company.

Includes: dirty talk, fingering, oral, wet dream, unprotected sex and Daryl being a sexy ass mf

Word count: 2065

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

It's been a while since the walkers had appeared. Your group have been trying to find somewhere to stay for months now. Luckily the group you're with has been stable throughout this time till you all found the prison.

During the time you had been going out and hunting with Daryl to help out the group as much as you could. He was shut off from the group for so long but due to Sophia on the farm. Carol had looking after him and making sure he was ok during the time. As you were around Carol a lot you were able to make a bond with Daryl.

Daryl ended up teaching you lots of different ways to hunt animals. How to survive out in the open. You would spend days together in the woods searching for food. You and Daryl were a dream pair, able to get a lot of resources and even laugh about the small things. Your glad you have been able to get to know him.

during the time you've spent together you started to adapt feeling for him. Daryl is very closed off to most people, but you have been able to see that he's a very sensitive individual. He cares a lot about the people around him, he just prefers to not show it.

Now you're in the prisons field around a large fire making whatever food you have been able to hunt down. Everyone is talking about how the prison is amazing. it's safe and secure its the walkers inside that will be an issue.

You look over towards Daryl eating his food like an animal. most people would find it unattractive, but the animalistic nature is just so luring, you can't help but stare. The way his arms flex every time he goes for a bite. How the fire makes them glow and you can see every muscle in his strong arms move.

While you're in your own head staring at his arms, he looks up at you. His eyes are piercing into yours as if he knows what you've been thinking. You quickly look away and try make it look like you were looking around the area. You saw a slight smirk appear on his face as you look away.

Suddenly your awkward thoughts are interrupted by ricks voice. "I say we sleep as soon as were all done. we should try clear out the walkers there and get inside the prison. It will be much warmer and safer then here" Everyone agrees and starts finishing up.

You and Daryl have slept side by side for a while now. When going out on runs it would be easier bringing minimal things so you could take back more. It's just become a habit sleeping next to one another even if it's separate sleeping bags. You both head to the tent and get settled down.

"You been staring at me a lot the last few days, is there something I've done for this to happen?" Daryle questions as your about to get in the sleeping bag. Without hesitation you replied, "you're starting to smell, I don't want to be in the same tent with no ventilation." You practically kicked yourself when you said that, why can't you just admit to him you like him. "I don't think that's the reason (Y/N), no need to lie to me." He said smirking and he got into his sleeping bag right next to you. "Whatever, no point in arguing with you." Daryle shrugged it off and started to go to sleep.

After a few mineuts of uncomfteble shifting you finally fell asleep.

You were in a house. You had food on the stove and had music playing on a radio nearby. The sun was shining through the window of the kitchen, everything was nicely painted. Suddenly you hear a knock at the door and hear "I'm back from work" As you turn towards the kitchen entrance. Daryl walks through the door holding a bag.

"I didn't realize you were going to cook today I bought dinner." He said as he lifted the bag up slightly. You smiled at him, "it's fine we can always have a mix of both and save the leftovers." Daryl placed the bag down on the floor and placed his hands on your hips. "You look really good in that apron (Y/N)" He paused for a second and looked you up and down. "Would look better with nothing on underneath though."

He then went down to kiss you and you gladly accepted. You placed your hands behind his neck to deepen the kiss. He then breaks the kiss and grabs your legs to hoist you on the counter. "What's gotten you so worked up today?" You smirk at the expression on his face. His eyes were blown out and desperate. "I've just missed you, working on the bikes is great, but not having you there is a struggle. Then I walk in an see you in this. How else am I meant to react?"

You giggled and pulled him into another kiss. He slowly started to kiss your neck leaving small love bites on your collarbones. His hands gripped your trousers and pulled them down in one swift motion. Daryl then pulled your panties off and crouched down. Daryl had his face level to you pussy. "You've always been so good to me; I need to show you how much I appreciate you." he dove his face between your legs and started giving small kitten licks to your cunt.

Your fingers wove into his hair and started grabbing it so he would go harder. Daryal started giving long licks up and down your cunt avoiding the one place you wanted it. "Daryl please stop teasing me, I really need it!" You whined hoping he would do more. "Are you that desperate, doesn't sound like you want me to do any more than this. "Daryl, I swear to god, please don't stop. Keep going please."

After that he stated to suck on your clit, you let out a loud moan and he started to lick your clit faster than before. He put his fingers inside your cunt and moved them with a natural skill. A coil in your stomach started to tighten as you were getting close. "Come on sweet pea, cum for me" Just as you were about to reach your high you woke up.

You were covered in sweat and saw Daryl looking at you with a smirk on his face. "Well, I didn't realize you liked me that much sunshine." You immediately covered you face in embarrassment, just as you were going to stand up Daryl grabbed your arm. "I don't exactly know what you were dreaming about, but we can make it a reality?" He questioned with lust filled eyes.

You accepted his offer; he pulled you in closer towards him and you could feel how hard he was. "You can say no if you don't want to" You nodded your head, "I want a verbal answer (Y/N)" you looked at his stupid smile "Please Daryl, I really want to."

He pulled you into a rough kiss and pushed his tongue into your mouth. You gladly accepted and thought for dominance. His hands started to travel to your shoulders and then down to your chest giving them a gentle squeeze. He was being super gentle you, as if he squeezed too hard you would break. You moaned into the kiss and he squeezed a bit harder. You grabbed onto his broad shoulders and his hands traveled down you waste and gave you ass a squeeze.

You hands made their way down to his crotch rubbing his clothed cock softly. His breath hitched and he grabbed you ass harder. You started to take off his trousers and rubbed him over his boxers. He started to remove your shirt and your bra straight after. He kissed from your jaw to your chest and started to suck your nipples. You moaned at the feeling of his teeth grazing over slowly.

You finally grabbed his cock and realized how hard he really was. He removed his mouth as you started rubbing his length harder and started panting into your chest. You squeezed him a bit and rubbed up and down his length. You slowly got up from your spot and made your way down his stomach. You left small kisses on his hip bones and grabbed onto his boxers and pulled them down. Your eyes widened at the size of him, you got slightly scared that it wouldn't fit.

You heard a small chuckle from him as you looked up at him. "Don't worry sunshine I'll make it fit nice and easy." He smirked down at your expression. Just for that you slowly started to lick up his length teasing him with your eyes as you do so. You slowly place him into your mouth and start slowly bobbing your head. Daryl grunts grips your hair to try get you to move faster. Your hands reached down to play with his balls. As you look up into his eyes you can see a sheen of sweat on his forehead, his hair is sticking to it. Daryl pulls your hair a bit harder to pull you off.

All of a sudden get you get flipped over onto your back. He starts to rub your clit with his cock. He slowly drags it down to the entrance and starts pushing it inside. There's slight sting and you can feel tears prick your eyes. Daryl bends down to kiss your cheek and pleasure starts to numb the pain. He continues to push inside of you until he's fully inside of you. Daryl looks into your eyes with slight desperation, asking you if he can move. You start rolling your hips from underneath telling him its ok to thrust.

He finally starts thrusting slowly into you. Your legs wrap around him, making him move faster. Sweat forms on both of your bodies due to the heat of the situation. The tent if filled with his grunting and panting. Daryl realizes he's making noise and puts his head in the crook of your neck to muffle any moans, his hand goes down to your clit and starts to rub it in circles quickly. You moan loud at the rough feeling of his hands against your sensitive clit. "Daryl I-I think I-I'm getting close."

"Finish on my cock bunny, you know you want to" The nickname caused butterflies to form in your stomach and the coil to become even tighter. Just as you feel the coil snap Daryl rapidly thrusts into you. He places a hand over your mouth in the hopes it will make you a bit quieter. Just as the overstimulation was becoming too much he pulls out and finishes on your stomach.

He collapsed into you and the both of you couldn't help but chuckle from exhaustion. After a minuet or two he got up and grabbed a small rag from his bag and started to wipe you down. Daryl went beside you and pulled you into his chest.

"Daryl?" You asked as you looked up at him with doe like eyes. He looked at you with a raised brow "Is everything alright sunshine?" He asked with slight worry in his eyes thinking you thought this was a mistake. "This isn't a onetime thing, is it?" You asked as your eyes went glossy. He pulled you into a tight embrace "No, I would like to stay like this, just us." He went silent and looked up. "Unless you want it to be a onetime thing."

You broke away from the embrace and looked at him "Daryl, I want to keep doing this. I want more then to have sex; I've liked you for a while. I've never been sure if you liked me the same way." You looked down embarrassed at your confession and he sat up. He grabbed you face and looked into your eyes, "I've liked you for a long time (Y/N)"

He gently pulled you into a soft kiss. After a bit you time you both pulled away and smiled. He laid down once again and pat his chest, inviting you to cuddle into him. With that you both slowly drifted off to sleep.

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon #smut #the walking dead #twd #twd smut

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the-s1lly-corner · 3 months

Text

Shut In (Eyeless Jack x reader oneshot!)

Basic plot: its really cold outside, and you urge Jack to stay in your home with you... he decides to stay despite knowing full well that he will be fine out in the freezing temperatures. You both decide to do things to pass the time and stay warm! Turns out Jack can make a mean cup of hot coco, too

Extra notes: I dont usually write fanfics, and the last one I've written was a personal one from late August... so to say I'm rusty and underexperienced is an understatement! I feel this one ended up a little.. weirdly paced imo but I think I'm still happy with the end result! Dialogue I feel I could have done better on but I'm going to be nice to myself since I mostly write hc posts so this is way out of my comfort zone.. Drafted on Tumblr then sent through google docs to pick up on some mistakes I missed, briefly reread no proper proof reading imo... lets hope this isnt a train wreck + it copied back to tumblr okay!! LMAO

Brief joke about pregnancy/making a pregnancy but its like one small snippet but I know that can make people uncomfortable + implies at least one of the characters is AFAB

Word Count: 2915

Extra Admin's note: I want to say again that I am so so happy about this blog hitting 1k followers, when I first started this blog I was originally going to use it to burn time and have something to do on the side, as well as having a place to put out my cringe ideas and hcs. I never thought this many people would be interested in my dumb thoughts, but here we are! I intend to keep writing this year, and perhaps even make more non-celebratory one shots this year? Maybe? I don't know I guess we'll see the reception on this fic!

It was the middle of the night, around the middle of January. Your boyfriend and you were holed up inside your apartment, you having locked the man up with you after seeing that it was below freezing out, as well as raining. You had to practically beg your boyfriend to stay with you for the night.

Your boyfriend, who also just so happened to be a man eating demon with tar dripping out of his hollowed out eye sockets. Your boyfriend, who was currently sitting still and staring forward, the only sound in the apartment coming from the dripping of your faucet. You had asked him to come visit you, it'd been a while... and he would never ever let you go to his cabin when it's this cold out. So here you both were now.

You pat the palms of your hands on your knees, sucking in one of your cheeks and working the flesh through your jaws for a moment. You were both technically stuck in the apartment now; you didn't want Jack to go out and risk getting sick, and Jack more than likely wouldn't want you to step out for the same reasons. So, you were both confined to what you already had within the space. You were about to open your mouth to speak but Jack broke the silence first. "You're shivering, do you want me to get some blankets?", blunt and almost robotic. He was never that expressive. "Or would you like to go to your room?" He added after a brief pause, his fangs poking just over his lip before he readjusted his mouth. You were both in the living room, sitting together on the couch; the front door to your left and a view of the kitchen to the right. You thought for a minute as your eyes lingered on the kitchen for a moment. You'd already eaten, before your partner arrived... but..

"That's fine, I'm probably going to make some hot coco," You pulled yourself up, stretching up. "Powdered stuff ooor..?" Jack mimicked you. You only shook your head, earning a disapproving look from him. "What?" You questioned, but he only dismissed you. "Why don't you get some blankets, I'll handle it," and he turned on his heel to make his way to the kitchen. "Maybe put on a movie, too, your choice." He added as his voice carried off. "Are you saying I can't cook?" You called back, following after him. No answer as he tugged out a pot. "I'll have you know-" you started once more

"Do you have half and half?" He was already opening your pantry to grab things.

"No, I don't,"

"Heavy cream? Whipping cream? Whatever it's called..." He mumbled as he placed various ingredients on the counter. Cocoa powder, vanilla, salt and sugar. You only nodded, and as he was about to begin working he paused. "Do you want anything else in it? Cinnamon? Nutmeg?" He paused and through gritted teeth, "Coffee?"

It was almost midnight, of course he would be opposed to you having caffeine so late.

"Cinnamon is fine," You watched him get to work. He measured everything out; even mixing the heavy cream with some milk to make a substitute for half and half.... was that really all it was? You weren't sure what you expected it to be, if it weren't..

He pulled his head up and stared at you. It was then that you noticed he had actually taken his mask off and set it at the end of the counter and out of the way. The black ooze dripping from his eyes was slow and posed little threat to dripping into your drink. He had a fistful of napkins on standby to dap his face dry should the flow quicken. "Aren't you going to get the blankets?"

You pat your hands on your thighs, pausing... watching him. His body had a warm glow on him from the old light bulb in the ceiling; it flickered every now and then. Under the yellowed light he almost looked healthy and alive, though there was no glint where his eyes should have been. His sharp nail tapping on the counter brought you back to the moment, blinking a few times. "Yeah.." you mumbled, defeated at the chance of making a drink for yourself stolen from you. But was that so bad?

You backed out of the kitchen, dragging your feet across the floor. Your apartment was.. a little on the smaller side so within a few steps you were in front of your bedroom door. You didn't really pay much attention to your surroundings as you shuffled through the blankets on the bed.. eventually you settled on just grabbing an arm full and waddling back to the living room, dumping everything you had grabbed onto the couch.

The house smelled of cinnamon and chocolate.. with a hint of vanilla.

Turning your gaze to the tv, your eyes scanned across the DVDs you had stacked messily. Nothing sounded good. "Is there anything you want specifically?" You called out as you settled yourself down criss cross in front of the tv and pulling all the cases onto the floor next to you. "Movie wise," You added as you pulled the first case into your hands. The DVD collection for Child's Play.. you had gotten it a few weeks ago, finding it on sale at your local store. You still hadn't popped it in to watch..

"I have.. Chucky, uhm..." You shuffled for the next case. "All the movies by the way.. I have that and.. most of the Friday the 13th movies," You called out. No answer, the only sound coming from the kitchen was the noise of a whisk gently being stirred. "I don't have Jason goes to hell... But!" You pulled out a third case with the Nightmare on Elm Street DVDs. "I DO have Freddy vs Jason," You mumbled and spread the three disks on the floor in front of you. Most of the disks you had, you noticed, were mostly older slasher movies. Still, Jack hadn't answered you. You pull yourself to your feet and trudge back into the kitchen. His back was to you, too preoccupied with the stove... He hadn't noticed you, not yet. An idea blossomed in your head, a smirk pulling itself across your lips. You steeled yourself, trying to force yourself to stop shivering.. Jack was always paying attention to his surroundings, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

You take a step forward and he still doesn't notice your approach.

Another step.

And another.

Jack wasn't the tallest, in fact if you wanted to you could rest your chin on his shoulder... and that's what you ended up doing, while wrapping your arms around his thick waist. You could feel his body seize up just a little bit against you, before relaxing. "You didn't answer, what sounds good?" You pulled your eyes down to look at the pot. Your drink was nearly finished. You view rocked as your boyfriend shrugged, still silent but the twitching of his pointed ears let you know he was listening.

"Anything's fine," Another shrug as he cuts the heat. "You're the one cooking for me, you get to pick the movie," You insisted. He paused mid-whisk, letting out a soft huff. Suddenly he spun around, his face just a few inches from yours. In the dimmed light his eye sockets seemed deeper, it's black ooze lazily dripping down his cheeks. You noticed the smudges on his face, from wiping the streaks. You briefly wondered what it was like to sleep with them, but your thoughts were cut short as he pulled a blackened and clawed hand to your hair; tucking a lock behind your ear. "How does...." He paused, sucking in his teeth. He looked almost embarrassed. "Bride of Chucky sound?"

"What? Want to study the characters again so we can dress up again this year for Halloween?" You tease. You had convinced him a few months ago to dress up with you. With him as Chucky, and you as Tiffany... It had taken some begging and convincing but you ultimately got him to agree. Although you didn't go out to get candy, you were both fine with staying inside watching movies together in costume. It was also that night you got him to watch the movies..

His ears darkened, before he scoffed. "No... actually this year I was thinking of..." He took a long pause, visibly scraping his brain for names of characters, before seemingly giving up. "Look I don't watch many movies I don't know any.. characters.." He grimaced, before gently pushing you off of him so he could turn his attention back to the hot cocoa. "We've still got nine months, more than enough time to come up with something..." You shrugged, then smirked. "Not enough time to make a Glen... or Glenda," You teased before turning on your heel. You held back a snicker as you heard Jack splutter, finally processing what you had just said to him.

"W-"

"I'm gonna go ahead and put in the disc, I'll leave it paused for you," You cut him off, still grinning to yourself as you kneeled down to do as you had said.

Soon enough Jack walked into the room with a mug, as well as a platter of cookies. "You didn't have to," You mumbled as you eyed the treats, but he only waved you off as he placed the plate and mug onto the coffee table. "You don't have to eat them, but I figured you might want a snack while watching the movie," He mumbled. You took the mug, and swirled the drink inside of it. "I hope I didn't put in too much cinnamon," Jack added as he watched you. He leaned over and started the movie.

You took a sip, smiling a little as the warmness crept in. "You did good, probably the best hot cocoa I've ever had." You offered a grin to him. "That has got to be the fakest compliment I've ever heard," Jack shot back, though you could see the corners of his mouth turning up just slightly. "Oh, I'm sorry! I believe this is the most decadent and satisfying beverage I've had ever been graced with in my life, and-" You began, only for Jack to hush you. "I'd rather you throw it on me, don't... say words like that again," He grumbled as readjusted himself into the couch. You took a sip and shrugged, "It's just absolutely immaculate," and he lightly smacked you on the arm. "I'm never making anything for you again," He snorted, before turning his attention to the movie.

You weren't going to lie, you felt a little bad treating yourself to the cookies, knowing Jack was unable to eat them without upsetting his stomach. Being a man-eating monster must really be hard. You purse your lips, and shoot a look at him from the corner of your eye. He must have been doing the same, because he turned his head to look at you. "Do you want to do something else?" He asked lightly, his grin from a few minutes ago already faded. "Do you ever miss eating.. food?" You asked before you could stop yourself. He didn't bother pausing the movie, instead he just fell silent and stared down, into the space between the two of you on the couch.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up, I know it's a touchy subject for you," You mumbled and put the mug on the table. You sucked in the air between your teeth, flicking your eyes up to the movie, before bringing them back down to your lap. It stayed like that for a minute before Jack broke the silence. "I mean... yeah, I do. But at least I don't have to eat every day like you do, means I can have more time to do what I want," He said. Clearly, he was still bothered, tip-toeing around the big.. thing about him. The air was still tense and thick, all of the previous joking gone now. It was nearly unbearable. Nearly.

"You know," Jack began after a few more seconds of silence when you didn't reply. "I've never tried cinnamon in hot cocoa, I didn't know that was a thing people did," He was changing the subject. "You haven't?" You asked, raising a brow. He eyed your mug, but you both knew there was no way he was going to take a sip.

"It's really good," You mumbled, and took the drink, "The combo, I mean," You added. He hummed, patting his knees lightly. You swirled the drink again, watching the... what was it called? Those lighter swirls in the drink.. Did that have a name?

"You've had hot cocoa before, right?" You asked. He hummed again, nodding his head. "Well.. the cinnamon makes it warm. Taste wise.. It makes it.." You took a sip and thought for a minute. "Richer, I guess? It's hard to explain," You muttered, then looked back at him. You tore your eyes back down when you saw he was looking right at you, totally hooked onto your words. "I hear nutmeg goes good in it, too.. but I've only tried nutmeg and chocolate together in baked goods," You shrugged. "You did really good with this, you know... not too much cinnamon.. not spicy, at least." You smiled. He nodded, before turning back to the movie.

"Woody, I hear people describe cinnamon like that," He leaned back into the couch, a dull pop came from his back.

"Woody," You repeated, then took a large sip of the hot cocoa. You put the mug down onto the table, and leaned into your boyfriend as the warmth crept and settled into your bones. You weren't even paying attention to the movie, your mind was now occupied with how tired you were. Your eyes slipped up to the clock on the wall, It was nearly one in the morning. Had it only been an hour since Jack walked himself into the kitchen?

You lean deeper into Jack, not caring about his body's natural chill. His clothing still smelled a little like the cocoa from earlier.. "Gotta invest in some cologne, you smell nice like this," You mumbled into his arm. "The cinnamon?" He asked, not looking down at you. "No.. the cocoa, I mean cinnamon would be a nice touch... but you don't seem like a sweet smelling guy, do you?" You muttered. "Are you already getting tired?" Jack asked, and he leaned over you to grab the remote, pausing the movie. You muttered, the heat of the hot cocoa doing way more than you expected on the tiredness you didn't notice you had. "A little," You shrugged, "But we can still try to finish the movie," You offered, but he shook his head. Of course he would, as much of a hard ass or party pooper he came off as, he was going to make sure you were going to get your rest.

You put your hand in his, the one that had the remote.. you unpaused the movie. He paused it, and you unpaused it again. It kind of kept up like this before Jack conceited and kept it playing, although he did lower the volume.. The subtitles were already on, though. "I win," You smirked up at him, before crawling into his lap. You placed your head on his chest, pausing when you felt him stiffen before relaxing against you. His heart beat for a moment before settling to its barely there rhythm. For a minute you thought about asking about his heart, as far as you knew he explained himself like he was becoming a walking corpse... how does that work?

You decided against it, you already asked about him earlier.. and besides, your mind was already beginning to blank as Jack reached to the side of the couch, and turned the lamp off.. It was dark now. It was still raining, you could more clearly hear the drops outside now that the movie was turned down. Plus, Jack was running his fingers through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp. It wouldn't be long until you finally gave in and fell asleep.

"Are you going to still be here in the morning?" You asked, melting into his chest as he hummed in response. "Plan on it, I still need to clean up the kitchen," He added as he curled your hair around his hand. "It'll still be cold in the morning," He added, "I need to make sure you bundle up before you go out for work," He added. "I'm not that dumb," You muttered and lightly slapped his arm. You swear, if he still had his eyes he would have rolled them.

"How do you see? I know you're not.. a normal person, but," You blurted out, lifting your head. He pushed your face back down, shushing you. "Sleep," He ordered, before loosening his hold on you a bit so you could get comfortable. It wasn't an order but it may as well have been with how your body started to loosen into him within the next few minutes, quickly snuffling out your curiosity and questions.

He'd still be here in the morning, you could pester him then. After all, it's what he signed up for when the two of you started to date one another..

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack imagine #creepypasta fanfic #eyeless jack fanfic

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gl1tch3doracle · 5 months

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⊹ ࣪ ˖ twilight showers ˖ ࣪⊹

First oneshot, so ofc I had to do the queen of cool herself, Quanxi. I'm absolutely weak for this woman.

➸ Quanxi + !Fem!Reader

➸ Word count; 2,093 words,

➸ Y'know, probably set sometime during part 2, but I wouldn't know when. No major spoilers aside from the fiends.

➸ No content warnings either. Just some hurt/comfort ♡ (Although I would say it's been a little while since I've written something, so it might be a little wonky 'cause I'm rusty). Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!

Night befallen - Twinkling lights across a rather solemn concrete jungle, all blurred by the flurry of raindrops pinstriping against a benumbing glass pane. From up in your apartment, it all seemed like a well-put-together maze of harrowing misfortunes that seemed to follow almost every citizen of Kyoto. Somewhere down there was a family ruined by a devil attack, a partner mourning their lost loved one, children crying because their friends had been ripped away without explanation. All events that could happen to you at a moment's notice - The coin could flip and land heads up, and it would be lights out before you might even notice.

That was a thought that occasionally tickled your brain. Every few weeks or so, most likely foretold by a day's event. It could've been a devil attack that jostled your mind - or even just a shitty day at work. It always came at night specifically, though, which was absolutely perfect when you were trying to get to sleep.

It was sad to think about, the way people's lives were cut clean on such short notice, which is why you tried not to do that all too often. That wasn't as easy as it sounded, especially when, unlike the others who had to live with their chosen reality, you were pretty safe and well-off all things considered. It manifested in a welt of guilt swelling in your chest, and that was the reason when night fell like it had fallen all those times before, you still slept on and off, swaddled up in your bed.

No nightmares plagued you and no misfortune befell you, because you were wholly safe - Especially when you were wrapped in the arms of your girlfriend. Someone would have to be an idiot to attempt on your life; Devil, human or fiend, it didn't matter, because Quanxi would cut them down with scary proficiency like she'd done so many times in the past.

That was most nights, anyway. The warm feeling of safety and Quanxi would not lull you to sleep tonight. The bed was empty and cold, blankets strewn over the edge, pillows tossed and tucked under your head and over your arm. It wasn't that rare for Quanxi to be stuck deep in the alleyways working, but it didn't make you feel any less lonely.

Outside, the storm grew heavier. The windows rattled.

Every time the rain stuck your window, every time the wind pulled against the structure of your building, every time a piercing howl or screech cut through the veil, you felt yourself flinch into the comfort of your plush duvet. You were safe, that you knew, but it was an instinct in every human to fear devils or something. At least, it felt instinctual for you, because being scared of creatures and beings that craved your pain sort've felt natural.

Although, among the melody of the stormed city, there was another sound hidden amongst all the others. Beyond the furious tapping of the rain, the whirling of the wind, the honks of traffic and whatever far-away noises plagued the world surrounding you, there was one, tiny, sharp sound that ricocheted in your ears. It would've been so easy to miss it, and yet you couldn't help but zero in on it like a homing beacon.

Like the sound of a bird tapping curiously at the glass, similar to a singular dense raindrop pattering against the frame or the friendly waving of your houseplants' leaves drawn to the beaming sun.

Or, even perhaps, if you stretched the idea far enough, like an arrowhead plinking against rain-pattered glass.

You chuckled. That thought was a bit overly specific, although not for lack of reason. However, if it was the arrowhead, it was better to go check, just to make sure.

The floor was startlingly cold underneath your bare feet, enough to make you wince, but not enough to send you back under your blankets. The window wasn't far, after all, a few paces to your left. You could already see her figure staunchly squatted on the windowsill, her back to the wind with her hair whipped back and forth.

Quanxi was without her swords, clean of blood and grime but drenched from head to toe from the storm.

You yawned and cracked open the window, letting her slink silently, almost peacefully, from the rugged weather outside into the comfort of your twilight bedroom.

"Quanxi?" Her name was soft on your lips. She stilled in front of you, mouth drawn into a thin line, twitched downward at the corners. She was an enigma, one you were slowly unwrapping and figuring out for yourself. A mystery that only let her guard for one person, and that one person was you.

She didn't say anything, only shrugged off her suit jacket and wrapped her cold, muscled arms around you, tugging you into an embrace that smelled strongly of men's cologne - Cedar and cashmere, underlined by a tinge of bloody iron and sharp rain. The way she twitched softly, fingers digging inwards as she tugged you closer, twining them into your hair as she sweetly kissed your forehead. Protective, anxious, almost lost seaming.

Also, as you may've mentioned, she was thoroughly drenched - Carrying a sheen of rain, heavy enough to dampen your clothes and chill your skin as well. Usually, you would've laughed at the action, maybe called her silly as she rolled her eyes playfully, cracking a rare smile. But tonight was not the night, tinged with sadness and longing. It was a sense in her eye, and in the way she held you so close and dear to her heart, literally and metaphorically.

You sighed and kissed whatever part of her you could reach - Cold skin dappled with raindrops. Quanxi sighed softly, melting ever so slightly as the heat from your love and the room thawed her bones.

"Go have a shower," You murmured into her. Quanxi grunted.

"Don't wanna." You rolled your eyes and gently shoved her in the direction of your bathroom. She battered her eyelashes at you, pursed her lips and set you with a look that would've made you shake if it weren't for the emphasised pout she gave you.

"You're freezing. Go have a shower," You pointed accusingly at her, which prompted nothing more than a quirked eyebrow. A part of you was more than glad that Quanxi was home again, but another, more tired part of you didn't want to deal with her stubbornness at one in the morning.

"You are not getting in that bed freezing cold and wet," You didn't wait for her to respond, verbally or otherwise, and instead returned to the lukewarm embrace of your bed and blankets. The almost silent pattering of Quanxi's footsteps out of the bedroom, echoing into the bathroom. The spattering of shower water followed soon after, steam billowing out from the door and spilling into the hallway.

You sniffled and rolled over, burrowing your face into the nearest pillow. Time seemed like an infallible concept as you listened to the sounds of rapid water showering across tiles. The repetitive lapping sound filled your senses, a subtle humidity filled the apartment, scents of soap and petrichor pleasantly swarmed your nose. The minutes slipped through your fingers, metaphorically, sleep weighing on your eyelids. You blinked, and it seemed in a moment Quanxi had re-entered the room with a slicked-back mess of wet silver atop her head and a towel in hand.

She blinked once and held out the towel in a silent question. You yawned and slid out of bed a second time that night, following your girlfriend into the bathroom.

Resting in front of the mirror, Quanxi closed her eye in contentment as you worked the water from her hair, patting it down to get the most of the water out. That itself was no easy feat, so, being as tired as you were, you whipped out the hairdryer. It was a loud, ebbing sound in your ears, but you couldn't give a crap as you watched the stress slowly seep from the muscles in Quanxi's shoulders.

"How often do you brush your hair?" You murmured against the back of her head. The brush in your hand was snagged against another knot. If Quanxi heard your question, she didn't make any motion that she would answer it - Instead, her fingers traced over the lace of her favourite choker. Even as you worked the kinks out of her hair, smoothing her silver locks till they were smooth and dry enough that your pillows wouldn't be wet in the morning, you couldn't help but notice that her attention would never drift from the fabric.

Hair dried, Quanxi insisted she would be fine to just slip into some pyjamas. You pointedly didn't point out the gooseflesh skittering up and down her arms and instead kissed her behind her ear before leaving for the bedroom for what you hoped was the last time.

The bed was cold. You sniffled and sighed, pulling the blankets over your head as you scavenged together the various pillows that had been tossed all over the bed. You only resurfaced once the click of the bedroom door opening resounded throughout the otherwise pin-drop silence, Quanxi silently walked in afterwards.

Her shoulders were bare, the only part that way highlighted by the sliver of moonlight escaping through the tumultuous clouds. She cast a look in your direction, eyepatch now removed. You didn't even flinch at the empty hole in her face, but rather, your eyes were drawn to the lace collar still firmly twined around her neck.

Quanxi seemed off. Her fingers brushed slowly over the lace as she pulled a shirt over her head.

"Do you miss them?" You'd spent enough time just watching her, listening to the sounds Quanxi made and studying the way she worked. You could tell when she was disheartened, sad even, in the most minuscule meaning of the word. Even if it did feel like a stab in the dark, the moment she stilled for more than a second settled your thoughts.

"Sometimes. Yes," Quanxi finished getting dressed, suddenly seeming a lot smaller without her loose ponytail. Silver cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, tangled and shining as she shimmied into bed next to you.

You knew about her fiends. They all were important to Quanxi, held near and dear in her heart, especially in death. You'd never met them, but you had no qualms with Quanxi keeping a few pictures on hand (and in your apartment). Perhaps in another life, you would've lived side by side with them, all a part of Quanxi's little self-made family. Your big bed certainly would've been useful in that case, six warm bodies all snuggled up under the blankets on a night like tonight.

As selfish and greedy as it sounded, there was a little part of you that was happy to have Quanxi all to yourself. Still, you just gave her a small smile, tired, and pulled her into your embrace.

Quanxi didn't cry. You didn't think anything in this world could make Quanxi cry, but she was shaking. Small, violent tremors that you wouldn't have felt if it weren't for the fact she was pressed against the pulse point in your neck. Your arms circled her neck, loosely looped around her warmth as your wrists rested gently against the cloth of her choker - A sensation that made your skin itchy, but, with your girlfriend planted firmly in your embrace, you were not willing to move a muscle. It was a rarity that Quanxi let you hold her so openly, so closely, her face pressed against you in such a manner your legs had to tangle together underneath the sheets.

Her breaths rolled over you in uneven puffs, heat against your skin in a way that pleasantly tingled and instilled a feeling of drowsiness. It was peaceful, in a sense of the word, and you were more than willing to let sleep take you. Nestled up against her, head held carefully in your arms with her warmth a constant ebb and flow against the biting chill outside, you couldn't help but answer the lulling call of sleep.

Quanxi pursed her lips, feeling your breath even out below her ear. It felt comfortable, soothing even. Although she knew she wouldn't sleep tonight (she hardly ever did anymore), spending the time listening to the rain outside, the pulsing of your heart all while she tried to bury the memories of her past deep within her subconscious.

#quanxi x reader #quanxi #csm quanxi #x reader #csm #chainsaw man x reader #wlw #wlw x reader #lesbians #give quanxi the soft love she deserves #i really think she needs a hug

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rayofmisfortune · 1 month

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Hey, it's the anon who asked a while ago how painful it was that Moon of all people interrogated Ruin :') things seemed so simple then :')) It's 100% my denial talking rn, but how likely do you think that there's more to the story? The way Sun pleaded with Moon to wait and kept saying how this didn't make sense seems to be hinting there's something more going on. (1/3)

Oh hey! Yea- things really were simple back then 😭

Oooh you do have a point there anon. I've been... suspecting something more going on in that merged system of Ruin's for a but now. Their behaviour does NOT make sense. They act one way one time, then a different way the next time... it's a little concerning.

The suppresant theory is... wow a VERY clever idea. I've rambled a lot about my own theory of the cure not working fully 1st try and needing to be taken periodically to have any long lasting effect.. but the suppresant would make as much... well even MORE sense with their actions.. the Creator does not make mistakes...

In hardware sure. But not software. NEVER software.

Kind of makes you wonder if... Ruin arriving in the TSBS dimension was a part of the Ruin Creator's plan all along... and if so... BOOOHOHOY does that open a whole new can of worms for us to sort through.

Moon's and Ruin's deal entailed a race to get to the Creator (tho i'm still pretty sure it was originally a race of who can get their task done faster. Ruin getting to the Creator, or Moon making/finding a cure to the Ruin virus, I may be remembering this wrong but oh well, it's in the past now). And I can't help but wonder if THAT wasn't the real reason Ruin was here. To get to our Creator for... an upgrade of sorts? Something he could not do himself. Each Creator has a different field they experiment in in their own dimension, right? I'm unsure as to what our Creator's goal is (a lil rusty on my tsams lore know how) but it seems rather plausible?

And... if this Ruin we've had on our hands since the end of October has really just been pretending the whole time... i'll hold onto my stupid lil theory which is based on nothing but a few times Ruin Eclipse has spoken through Jigsaw in the past... did they have an accent at the time? NOPE. Did they have an accent after being cured? YOU BET YO ASS THEY DID!

We'll just have to.. wait and see what today's episode brings I suppose qwq I'm not particularly looking forward to it... have a bad feeling about what's to come haha jfjfjf

#answered asks #anonymous #tsams #sun and moon show #sun and moon show theory #??? ig #tsams ruin

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captainkippen · 18 days

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HELLO ! feed me tyrus date headcanons please !! or literally any andi mack headcanons i love seeing everyone’s thoughts <333

Oof, it's been a while since I've done one of these so you'll have to excuse me if I'm a lil rusty!

• Their first official date is dinner at The Spoon and bowling. It's supposed to be chill, but Cyrus absolutely has a mini meltdown to Buffy and Andi right before. It takes until he sees TJ to calm down and remember it's just TJ.

• They hold hands under the table the entire time and get so absorbed in their conversation they almost forget to order food (baby taters is of course the main event).

• Afterwards they go bowling and play a surprisingly competitive game. TJ kinda loves how excited Cyrus gets when he's winning. It's cute.

• When TJ gets his first car the first thing he does is plan a surprise date to a drive-in theatre. They break down half way there and end up having a bizarre picnic of movie snacks out beneath the stars while they wait for roadside assistance. It didn't go as planned, but Cyrus maintains it's one of the most romantic dates they've ever had, especially since TJ lent him his jacket when it got chilly.

• When they're older they have a set Date Night™ every week (scheduling is a nightmare otherwise). At first they tried to plan exciting new things every time (rock climbing was a mistake and they ended up in the ER) but they've since learned the best dates are the ones where they get to spend hours talking and snuggling up together. They've yet to run out of things to discuss. Other couples keep telling them it'll happen, but Cyrus is pretty sure he and TJ could talk about the freakin weather and still have it be the most absorbing thing in the world. They just need each other and they're set.

• The worst date of their lives is also the best. Everything that can go wrong does. It's the middle of the week, they're both tired, work is hectic, the lease on their apartment is almost up and they still haven't managed to find a new one. TJ burns dinner by accident and gets so annoyed he kicks the oven. It breaks.

• Now, while TJ still has his moments, it's been a long time since Cyrus has seen him react to frustration like that. He's a little alarmed by the reaction, so he loops his arms around him, hooks a chin over his shoulder, and tells him that the charred lumps of misery are just "extra flavour, really, I bet it'll taste great!"

• TJ can't not laugh at that.

• Cyrus heads over to the refrigerator to dig out leftovers instead. It's pretty barren, but when he turns around to ask if TJ just wants to get takeout he finds his boyfriend down on one knee.

• Turns out TJ was frustrated that the night he was planning to propose hadn't gone perfectly. It didn't matter in the end though, all he needed was Cyrus.

• After fifteen years, two breakups (they were angsty teenagers and both times it lasted like... A Minute), and roughly five hundred or so dates, Cyrus says yes.

• Best date ever.

#andi mack #tyrus

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sofiaaaaaaaa03 · 11 months

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Homecoming

Title: Homecoming

Part 8 of Scribe of the Gods Series: Epilogue Pt. 1

Pairing: Steven grant x gn reader (platonic), Marc spector x gn reader (platonic)

Rating: PG

Word Count: 6k

Description: Many months after the attack of Cairo, Marc and Steven have done their best to return to normalcy. While doing so, they await for the return of the Scribe, who had been away during this time to help the Ennead return to its former state. Finally, the scribe is able to return home, with much to discuss.

A/N: .... HI.

It has been... far too long. This was long overdue, and I want to say thank you to those who have been patient. It means so much to me that you all were so willing to wait while I was away, a lot has happened but I genuinely did not want to leave this unfinished. I felt like I had to finish the story. Originally, I wanted to have one single chapter for the epilogue, but I decided that I should split it up as a thank you to those who were patient. I hope you all enjoy, I'm incredibly rusty and i didn't go back to edit this because i just wanted this out so you guys know what i've had collecting dust for the last few months. 100000 percent promise that i plan to and will most likely go back and edit this, but I really couldn't wait to throw this out there. Love you all. RAHHHHHH

London library has felt more empty in the last six months now that it has one less presence. Taking the weekly trips to the library just wasn’t what it used to be for Steven, who often took the trip to rotate his book cycles for his nightly readings. Now that y/n had gone off to all ends of the earth on behalf of the Ennead, there was no one to carry the same conversations the unlikely duo had prior. Steven didn’t blame y/n or feel any ill towards them leaving him and Marc and the life they had in London. In fact all he had was pride for them. They had a big job to accomplish, judging from everything they’d told him with all of the letters they’d sent to his and Marc’s flat. Writings on postcards that served as a reminder that the scribe thought of them, that they were still around in his life.

Despite their loud absence, Steven still kept the habit of visiting the library, but not under the same urgency as before now that he was no longer as afraid of wandering about under the night sky as he was before. His relationship with Marc had finally found balance. The man no longer stayed awake at night , fearful of ending up in obscure places. Marc promised Steven that now that they were no longer serving Khonshu there was no more reason for him to leave the apartment during the night to go on missions. Steven was relieved to find this out, as it meant that he was able to put himself to ease during the night, and now he got to read for his own pleasure rather than a desperate attempt to remain awake.

Not only that, but Steven managed to get a job at the museum- thanks to Marc’s help- as a tour guide. He needed to refresh his knowledge of Egyptology and the library had a large selection of books for him to choose from.

Steven thanked the librarian, a rather stern sort of woman who liked to drone on and on about herbs, picking up his books with a little polite nod, and made his way out towards the exit. He paused a few steps in, looking back at the desk once more with memories of the conversations he and y/n had floating in his head.

He gave a sigh. Thank goodness they were coming back soon.

He couldn’t wait.

One last look and he made his way out of the door and into the London streets.

—----

It’s been too long since y/n stepped foot in the London Library. Six months. Give or take. They’d stopped bothering to keep track after the numerous tasks they’d completed on behalf of the Ennead. For whatever it’s worth, the six months were filled to the brim with ensuring the gods’ work in the mortal realm ran smoothly.

The first few weeks were the worst of it. When the temple had just fallen and all the avatars had died there was nothing short of utter chaos. All of the gods were adamant for y/n’s help, insecure that they no longer had a human vessel to be able to oversee their work; they insisted that they were the first to receive the young thing’s assistance. Y/n did what they could to assist the individual gods, trying to tend to their needs in a matter of urgency rather than agreeing to any given moment.

They had to be firm about their servitude, Osiris told them after a meeting gone poorly- one of the gods had complained over y/n’s unavailability to help their request. But Osiris vouched for y/n and reprimanded the god for expecting y/n to waiting for a job to simply be handed to them, they were a human child, Horus. Where are your children now that we are all scrambling to get back on our feet?- they need to be mindful that the gods can forget themselves in their place of power. The god told the human scribe that as they continued their service and aid the gods, they had to prioritize what work needed to be accomplished. If a god came to them with a mundane task that could wait, y/n was allowed, even encouraged, to tell the god that the job will be done later.

“If they have a problem with it, tell them that they can come discuss it with me.” Osiris would tell them this time and time again. He wanted to make certain that the scribe didn’t overwork themselves or felt the need to always say yes. And y/n took this advice, and had to use it many times, but they were grateful to have a god look out for them the way Osiris did.

While the gods were generous enough to allow y/n an opportunity to work outside of the library, the only issue that came from this was that y/n had no reliable place to stay. On normal accounts, before the collapse of the Ennead and their temple due to the demise of Ammit, they were able to rest between councils within the chambers of the temple. They’d find a little corner far enough where no one could disturb them and catch up on sleep while the avatars drank and caught each other up in their lives outside of ceremonial duties.

Such was not the case anymore. All that resides in the chambers now are the ghosts of the avatars and the destruction of Ammit. Neither suitable company for the scribe to stay as they worked for the gods.

Despite all the time that'd passed, the chambers still suffered from Ammit’s destruction. Not as badly as before as every now and then y/n would lift random debris out of the way as a way to pass time, but even they didn’t have the technical skills to completely reform the chambers to what it once was.

But six months had passed since the events of Cairo. Why was it that the pyramids and the realm of the ennead was yet to be restored? One day, amidst the gods after completing several tasks for them, the scribe inquired about this as they sat on a loose stone. Horus, in all his questionable glory, answered to the scribe. Without proper avatars, the gods had no ability to fix the destruction as they lacked a physical form. They needed humans.

Y/n thought that was bullshit, if they were being honest. They were literal gods. Why did they need an avatar’s body to be able to fix the chambers? Couldn’t a simple snap make it all better?

Whatever. It was not their place to question the gods, despite their obscurities and lack of explanations. Eventually, the chambers’ reconstruction finally started. It took longer than it should have when very few followers came for the call of Horus to aid in reconstruction, but progress was still being made.

So, with construction happening at the temple it meant that y/n was unable to reside in the rubble of the chambers anymore. Instead, they spent their off hours in between hotel rooms and air bnbs. They didn’t mind it though, they finally had a proper bed and had a decent meal that consisted of something other than the Molokhia the gods had given them for the last six months. But really, to y/n, anywhere was better compared to staying in the london library.

There was no point renting an apartment space when the gods started to send them to the ends of the earth for all sorts of missions. Whether it be recruiting a potential candidate for one of the gods, or scavenging artifacts stolen from the temple, the scribe had more on their plate than they’d anticipated and had no time to settle in one place for very long. They didn’t complain. The gods gave them the means to pay for living arrangements and for meals, and the pay was better than the one they received from working for the library.

Six months. Six months was a long time, now that they thought about it.

Thank the gods they were finally able to go home now.

—-----

Now that they thought about it, the first time y/n had been to Steven and Marc’s apartment they weren’t even invited in. Should they knock?

They stood in front of the door, but weren't sure how Steven and Marc would react to them suddenly showing up the day before they were supposed to. The two men were expecting y/n to show up the next day. They’d even insisted on picking them up at the airport and going out for lunch. Well, that was the original plan. Until the gods had decided to let y/n leave earlier out of gratitude and granted them a portal to anywhere they desired, it was only natural that they decided to end up at the front steps of the system’s apartment. A little surprise visit doesn’t hurt anyone, right?

The scribe straightened up, realizing they’d spent too long standing idle at the door and needed to make a move. They raised their fist and rapped on the door several times. And when no one answered they waited a few more moments before knocking once more.

Hm. No one was home. y/n uncomfortable shifted in place, waiting a little longer to make sure that no one was actually home before they began deciding their next move. Should they stay in place and wait for the men to come home? Would that be too awkward? Having the men walk into their apartment floor and find the young adult sitting on the space next to their door? Would it just be better to leave altogether and try to come back later? What if they miss the men again? They could always go, but the question is where? It’s not like they have a place to stay nor anywhere that seemed decent enough to crash, and-

“y/n?”

The voice from across the hall snapped y/n out of their thoughts almost immediately. Steven, in all his glory, stood at the space of the elevator that’d just opened. He stared at the scribe as though he’d unable to perceive that they were actually there.

y/n faltered a moment, unexpected at the sight of the man faster than they were anticipating, and gave Steven a small smile, a little embarrassed that at the end of it they did just loiter in steven’s space like they didn’t want to.

“Hey, Steven.” They greeted him warmly.

The gift-shopist turned tour-guide seemed to stumble in his words as an incoherent string of words fell numb to y/n’s ears. They tried to give him an encouraging smile, walking to steven’s space in the elevator as he remained frozen in place. Too frozen, in fact, as the door of the elevator began to shut with him still inside.

“Uh, the door-” y/n jumped in their place, arm outstretched for the door though the gift shopist stuck their arm through in time to alert the motion detector. The doors stretched open as did Steven’s arms as he took y/n in for a big hug, which they happily reciprocated. It was the kind of hug where they teetered in place very slowly, taking in each other’s presence after months of being apart,

“What’re you doing here so early?” Steven asked between breathy chuckles, slowly pulling y/n away from him, they took a good look at the man and realized he’d sported a light stubble. “Ain’t we’s supposed to pick you up tomorrow?”

The scribe gave them a warm smile. “The Ennead let me go early!”

“Hmm. Are you sure it was ‘cause they couldn’t wait to get rid of you.” y/n didn’t miss the sly smirk steven sported.

“Shut up.” They retorted, lightly pushed Steven’s shoulders. “Just be happy I wanted to come back.”

The gift shopist grabbed at his shoulder and glanced at the doorstop, “Is that all you’ve brought with ye? Let me help you.” He of course was referring to the two duffel bags of y/n’s personal belongings that sat at his doorstep. For six months they’d lived off of everything in the bags and it was painfully obvious from the wear and tear of the bags themselves. Before they could insist that they could carry the items Steven already had his hands on the bags and was looking through his keys for his front door.

The door flew right open in a matter of moments and Steven stepped to the side, grinning at the scribe as he gestured for them to go ahead.

“Right, come on in. Make yourself at home”

—------

No matter how many times they’d reassured Steven that really, they didn’t mind, Steven profusely apologized for the state of his apartment. He droned for a few moments stating that with his new job he’d not had the time to tidy up nor did Marc want to clean after Steven, (“He says I’m in charge of cleaning up my own mess. The nerve of ‘him, talkin’ to me like I’m a child!”) all the while y/n paid little mind and allowed their eyes to wander. Yes, they’d been in the apartment once, but that was many months ago. And it wasn’t like they had the time to take it in back then. Back then, when they were observing Marc and Steven from afar under the orders of a concerned Djehuty. They hummed to themselves, remembering the late nights sitting atop of Marc’s rooftop while listening for any sign of disturbances that could happen to the men.

Y/n sighed deeply, eyes wandering to the window they used to sit by. It wasn’t that long ago. Look how things have changed.

From where they sat nestled in a quaint green armchair, y/n felt like they were back in the London Library. Nestled amongst an alarming number of books, manuscripts, a tombstone of forests and papetry. Every nook and cranny of the apartment was filled with paper. All that was missing from the library was the occasional bun-wearing, shushing librarians and underpaid security guards.

“Did you read all of these?” y/n picked up a loose book resting close to them, lifting the cover to their sight.

Steven responded from his kitchenette, fiddling with three assorted mugs as he kept himself busy making something to drink for the two. “Yeah, more or less.”

“Huh,” y/n lowered the book, smoothing their fingers across the cover as they glanced again at the books around them. “With all of these books there’s not much use going to the library. You have your own here.”

Steven walked over to the scribe and offered out their drink to them. “ I make a habit of buying books I like after reading them borrowed ones. Keep ‘em here like little trophies, yknow.”

“Oh, you’re one of those people.”

“Yes, I’m one of those people, but at least we’re a reason why you have a job at the library.”

They didn’t miss the amusing smirk that Steven shot their way as he plopped himself into his seat at the armchair opposite of theirs, not before settingy/n’s designated cup on the table in front of them. He took a swing from his own and a silence fell between the two. Doing their best to ignore it, y/n took another moment to discern the gift shopist’s apartment.

Steven must’ve noticed them observing the fish tank that stood loudly in the middle of the apartment, as he shifted in his seat and gestured to the papers that decorated the glass pane. All held up by magnets and were numerous by the numbers. y/n had barely noticed them with their admiration of the two fishes that swam inside. “We kept all your letters. Marc thought putting them up close to the water was a bad idea but I’s quite like them there.”

“Oh,” y/n let out a small smile at this, struck with warmth that the system liked the letters enough to put them up. Like drawings on a fridge. “I didn’t think you’d do that.”

“Of course we would. Marc wanted to know what you were up to, and liked to keep note of where you’s been since you had to be secretive about it.” Steven beamed proudly, standing up to approach the fishtank.

“It was a necessary sacrifice,” y/n spoke, leaning over to grab their drink that Steven had prepared for them. “This was the best way I could keep in touch.”

During their time in the ennead, y/n was unable to communicate to marc and steven very often. Communication through modern devices were limited due to risks of tracing and exposing their location from those with malintentions. To help their friends know that they were still alive and well, the young avatar developed a habit of sending postcards to the system from locations they were sent to during a mission. Most of them were written with the generic, “I’m having fun’s” and “Wish you were here’s” to maintain obscurity, but y/n never missed a chance to send them so that Marc and Steven could figure out their last whereabouts from where the postcard originated from, and be relieved by the very fact that they were still alive and well.

“Wells,” Steven hummed to himself, turning to give the avatar a small smile as he returned to his seat. He had collected several postcards from the fishtank and waved them in the air before dropping them onto the table. Y/n watches the postcards splatter across the table, recognizing the images on the postcards from places they went to during their trip. “You have to tell us about your trips.”

And so the scribe told Steven about their life the last six months. Giving an explanation to why they were so absent outside of handwritten letters. As they spoke Steven gave them all of his attention, sitting at the edge of his seat, forearms rested on his knees as he leaned in to every word they spoke. They made sure to speak in great detail as they continued, knowing that the gift shopist had waited a long time to be able to hear their experience firsthand. Marc finally made an appearance to make his own comments. Immediately y/n was ecstatic to hear from the marine and they began to catch up amongst themselves like they did with Steven minutes prior. By the time they were finished their mugs were empty and the sun had set.

“They had me go out and find the avatars,” y/n continued telling their story to Marc, pulling out a map from one of their bags and displaying it onto the coffee table. Marc leaned over, eying the jumbled scribbles written all over the world, marked with locations and field notes from your travels. “The gods, they chose their patrons from different parts of the world, Marc. I-I mean, I had to go to the most obscure places, finding these people, I even ended up in Jersey City, of all places looking out for this one girl-”

Marc closed the front door as he watched y/n run to their bag for the map, carrying takeout from a Vietnamese restaurant down the road. At some point during their conversation he proposed that they went to get some food. He chuckled at y/n’s demeanor now that they finally got to take out the map that they said they wanted to show him, gushing over their trips.

“The Jackals are from Jersey,” Marc sat himself back in the chair, opening up the bag and placing their food onto the table. He lifted up a box, opening it up to make sure that he didn’t get the food switched, “My old man took me to one of their games back when I was a kid.”

He frowned at his food, eyeing the noodles. Steven began looking around the table before reaching his hand back into the bag, shuffling through napkins. “Bollocks, I think they’ve forgot my peppers.”

“They’re here,” y/n took a small container of peppers from their side of the table and handed it over to Steven, eyes still trained on the marked locations of the map. He gave them an appreciative smile, humming as he opened up the container and poured its contents over the steaming bun bo hue he’d ordered.

He took a large bite of his food as he leaned over to take in the map displayed before him, trying to make sense of the scribbles. “Did you find all of them?”

Y/n nodded, finally reaching to grab their food. They couldn’t help but smile in content at the food when they flipped the box open. “I did. Finding them was the easy part. A lot of them were still distraught and panicked over the fact that the gods were real. One guy was so convinced that someone snuck him drugs and he was having a really bad trip. Other people took the whole thing really well, but a majority of them needed as much help as they could get from assimilating to the concept that an Egyptian god chose them as their patron.”

Marc nodded knowingly at them, “Not everybody is okay with the whole ‘gods are real’ schtick.”

The scribe stopped looking over their map to gaze at Marc. They hesitated for a moment. It had been a really long time since they’d seen Marc, they realized now that they really had no idea of how he’s been since the attack on Cairo, whether the attack had left him with any mental troubles or injury now that Khonshu’s power was no longer there to speed up his body’s natural healing process. On the topic, y/n was greatly concerned on how Marc and Steven had been handling themselves now that they were no longer indebted to Khonshu.

Y/n hesitated a moment as they observed Marc, who was keeping himself occupied with his meal now that there was a bit of silence to dwell in.

Finally, they spoke. They were sure that Marc could be able to hear the hesitence in their voice, but it was too late to stop now.

“So, how have you been? Like, with Khonshu and everything.”

Marc said nothing for a moment. Finally, he deeply sighed. He kept his eyes trained on his soup, picking at the noodles with his utensils as he slowly spoke. “I feel much better, I would say”

“Yeah?” Y/n responded. They reached for a napkin laying on the table.

Marc nodded. He shifted himself to lean forward more on his knees. “Like, you know how we were pretty much forced to serve Khonshu? Well, now that that’s over with, I feel like I can do whatever I want now,” He let out a sort of dry chuckle, seemingly pondering over his own words. “Like, I never understood how limited our life actually was… it feels really… open now, do you understand that?”

He continued, not waiting for the scribe’s response, a look of content written on his face. “Honestly, I feel good about it.”

Marc didn’t sound like he had any doubt about his decision to end the system’s relationship with Khonshu. When he spoke, he sounded so sure of himself and where he was currently, trying to return to normalcy after Cairo. Well, as normal as it can get for people like them, y/n reminded themselves. There was no way that either of their lives would ever be the same. They were forever thrusted into the world of the gods, and even though Marc and Steven had chosen to retire that life, y/n knew very well that they were still a pawn waiting to be used in the eyes of the gods. They just hoped that that would never be the case. For Marc and Steven’s sake, they deserved to have their retirement be undisturbed.

“That’s,” y/n began, trying to find the courage to speak after realizing they’d remained silent a little too long. They blinked several times. “That’s great. That’s really great. I’m happy for you two.”

Steven beamed at them, shifting in his seat after putting his meal back on the table. “Ye, it is really. I’s been real nice not havin’ any more trouble at work because of that nasty old crow.”

“He caused you both more harm than good,” The scribe nodded knowingly at Steven’s words.

Steven swallowed another portion of his soup, rubbing off the droplets that trailed from his lips. He cleared his throat, but y/n’s attention was fixated on the napkin he’d dropped on the table. He didn’t wait for the scribe to acknowledge him, but they were able to hear the way he was trying to tread lightly as he spoke.

“Speakin’ of the gods,” He began slowly, waiting a moment to make sure that y/n had nothing to say before he continued, “now that you’re done workin’ for the Ennead, have you put any thought to what you’re going to do with Djehuty?”

It was obvious that this question came to y/n as a surprise when they jolted at the mention of the god. Steven hummed anxiously and raised his hands toward the scribe, profusely apologizing for bringing up the god in question.

“No, no it’s fine,” y/n raised a hand to reassure Steven. “It’s just, it’s the last thing I want to think about right now. Djehuty hasn’t approached me since I first started working for the Ennead, and everyday since then it’s been this waiting game of when he’ll actually show up again. I’m a little on edge, I guess.”

“You still don’t want to see him?” Marc stood up. He stretched his arms into the air briefly before throwing them down again, observing the contents on the table. By this time, all of their food had been finished save for the spring rolls they’d decided to split together. There was one left that sat there for a lot longer than it should have, neither y/n nor marc wanted to be the person to take it out of courtesy.

“No,” y/n glanced up at Marc. He stood over the scribe with the spring roll offered out to them, they gave him a brief monotonous look before accepting the spring roll from him. They inspected it before taking a small bite. They hummed, scanning the table for peanut butter sauce while Marc began clearing the plates away.

“Why is it you don’t want to see Djehuty, again?” The utensils clinked in Marc’s hands as he gathered up what he could, swiping his finger into the peanut butter sauce as y/n grabbed the container. He raised it to his mouth to taste and made his way to the kitchenette to dispose the takeout boxes.

“ ‘cause most likely he’s going to ask me to be his avatar again,” y/n states after swallowing from their bite. The scribe took another bite of the roll, gathering their own mess of napkins and peanut butter sauce and making their way to where Marc was in the kitchen. They spared him a glance as they approached. He had this look on his face that told them that he was choosing his next words carefully.

They opened Steven’s fridge, eying for a spot before placing the peanut butter sauce somewhere for Steven to taste later. Marc reached for his drink from the countertop, “And what would your response be?”

There’s a pause. And Marc is observing y/n with a look on his face that made them feel like they were being read like an open book.

y/n straightened themselves up, slowly closing the fridge door to look at Marc with skepticism in their eyes. They had yet to say anything to the ex-marine, but they didn’t have to when the look that they gave him told him that he was pushing a nerve with them. But

“You’re talking to a guy who’s well-versed in this whole avatar schtick,” He crossed his arms, leaning his weight against the kitchen counter. The man gazed at y/n with a look, “I know coping mechanisms when I see one. Instead of facing Djehuty head-on, you decided to play it safe and hide behind Ennead, but now that you’ve ditched that strategy, you’re still avoiding Djehuty even though you’re technically still his avatar. I just want to know why exactly it is you’re doing that, that’s all.”

y/n turned away from Marc, uncomfortable at the pressing question he’d asked them. They tapped their fingers against their upper thighs in an attempt to dispel the anxiety growing inside of them.

“Its just that,” they began slowly, articulating the feelings they had kept to themselves for so long into words as they spoke. They hadn’t thought that they would share this with anyone this soon, let alone the System. “if I wasn’t his avatar… then what would I even be? I can’t even imagine what I would become. It’s all I've ever known. It’s the reason I’m alive.”

“Well, yeah, its why you were alive the first time.” Marc countered plainly, a resting his face onto his open palm as he had his weight on his knees. He didn’t miss the glare that y/n had shot him. They didn’t like to be reminded of the whole situation they’d had with Djehuty in the Duat. Although Marc did his best to respect it there were times where he wasn’t shy to tell them how it was. It struck a nerve with them every time he did so.

“Yeah, cause who wouldn’t want their entire existence defined by being a puppet for an ancient deity. At least I wasn’t dumb enough to be manipulated into it.”

Marc blinked at y/n’s words. He leaned back slightly, eyes fixated on the scribe as they snapped at him with a hostile air to them. He was unable to see their face as they had turned their head away from him, but he knew deep down that their outburst at him was simply a defense mechanism, a way of protecting themselves from the blunt remarks and sudden pressure to answer questions he’d put them under without warning. Marc didn’t blame them for lashing out in such a way, he probably would have done the same too if he was in their position.

Slowly, Marc sighed from behind y/n. They could hear the slow movements he made behind him as he made his way to refill his water from the sink. They sighed, pushing their hands to their face and wiping it across their eyes. They’d forgotten themselves in that moment, and felt guilty at how they responded to Marc’s questions, he was kind enough to invite them to food and there was too much time that had passed between the two to snap at him, even if it was through a joking manner.

“Look, Marc-”

“No, I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. I’m sorry for pushing your buttons.” Marc stood by the scribe, clamping a firm hand onto their shoulder. He had faced them now, carrying a water in his hand as he offered them a small nod, acknowledging his words. He extended the glass in his hands towards them, waiting for them to take the cup from his hands before patting his open palms onto the pockets of his pants. He seemed to be looking for something as his eyes searched the room.

“You know what? It’s been a long day, I’m sure you’re tired after all that traveling.”

“I literally went through a portal,” Y/n couldn’t help but smile at the marine with an incredulous look on their face.

“Well you’re still in Egypt, aren’t you?” Steven mused, raising his eyebrows at the young thing. y/n rolled their eyes at Steven's whit. “It’s a whole two hours difference. What is it… it’s midnight for you, right, let’s get you ready.” y/n groaned at the statement. They weren’t tired at all from their journey. Steven was only using that as an excuse to go to bed early. They knew that he and Marc, despite being in their late 30s, were really just old men who slept for more than they should.

“You can take the bed tonight, y/n. I’ll set up the couch for myself-ah.” Marc raised a hand to them with a firm voice telling them that there was no room for arguing. “You’re taking the bed. Tomorrow we can regroup and have more time to figure out what we’ll do now that you’re here.”

Marc left their side with one more pat before he approached a cabinet on the far side of the room. He opened it and pulled out a few blankets and a pillow before making his way to the couch. y/n observed the marine from their place in the kitchen, not daring to move until they were certain that the man was not at all disturbed by their presence. They kept watch as he made a hmph, releasing the noise while plopping himself across the couch with a blanket over him and a book in his hands.

The scribe, still unwilling to move from their place, observed the marine for a little bit longe, hoping to find reassurance that he held no grudge against them for their earlier attitude. They watched closely, but neither Marc nor Steven showed any visible signs of resentment. Instead, Steven gave them one last look, offering a genuine "goodnight" before settling down with his book.

Filled with a mix of relief and lingering guilt over their behavior, y/n glanced between the man in the couch and the bed they'd offered to him. They looked back at Steven, and after a few moments realized that they were fully staring at the man who had clearly told them goodnight. Slowly, they walked past the couch and took a peek into Steven and Marc's designated sleeping spot in their open apartment. Not to the scribe's surprise, their bed was surrounded by mountains of books that Steven had collected. Despite the overwhelming number of books it all seemed to be a sort of organized mess that only Steven could understand.

The scribe took their bags from the floor beside the couch where Steven read their book and took out some pajamas and bathroom bag. They made sure to stay quiet while they went to change and prepare for bed, scared that if they made too much noise, they would bother Steven. In the bathroom, they pulled out a shirt that read "I survived my trip to NYC," a memento they bought from a subway giftshop during a recon mission on behalf of Horus. Slipping the shirt over their head, y/n caught their reflection in the mirror.

Staring at themselves, they recognized their own face staring back at them, but a nagging sense of detachment washed over the scribe. The conversation Marc tried to have with them minutes before was fresh on their mind. They stared at themselves in the mirror, eyes flickering between one another as they tried to discern what exactly it was, they were feeling.

y/n raised their hands to grab onto the fabric of their shirt, looking down at the words as they rubbed their fingers across the fabric. Suddenly, the shirt's message seemed to mock them. The only reason they were able to get this shirt was because of their work for the Egyptian deities. In this life that they'd lived, they'd accomplished so much. They'd made a name for themselves amongst the gods and had earned their respect, but even that didn't outweigh the dangers and mental exhaustion that came with being an avatar.

But it was all that they'd ever known. This life. The life of servitude for the Egyptian gods. y/n had confidence that if they were to continue their involvement in the affairs of the gods, including Djehuty, the scribe had no doubt that they would thrive.

But was that really what they wanted? y/n slowly let go of their grip on their t-shirt, raising their hands to their face as they observed themselves in the mirror.

This was something that the scribe had contemplated since the first day they began working on behalf of the ennead. They agreed to help the gods reform the Ennead so that when it came down to it, they could go to the gods and ask them to return the favor out of the kindness that they may be able to show to an avatar that dedicated so much time to them.

The scribe had enough of staring at themselves in the mirror, hoping to pick up their toothbrush and toothpaste. They poured a dollop of paste to their brush, raising the toothbrush to their mouth, leaning over the sink to brush their teeth.

On the other hand, they pondered while brushing, there was the very big resentment towards Djehuty that held them back from being so willing to work for him again. Djehuty, who had betrayed their trust long ago by revealing that he'd stolen their soul without disclosure. They found it extremely difficult to fully trust that old bird, fearful of being deceived again.

But... despite their reservations, y/n grappled with the uncertainty of letting go. Being an avatar and serving the gods had become their identity, their purpose. It was all they had ever known, and the thought of severing that connection to become a normal human filled them with uncertainty of what their human life would hold in store for them.

Could they even do it?

If they were being honest, y/n was very jealous of Marc and Steven. The men seemed to have severed their connection with Khonshu so easily. They barely even hesitated. Now the men were building a life of their own, getting jobs, healing.

The young avatar spat out into the sink, cleaning any paste that covered their mouth before finally leaving the bathroom. They entered into the dimly lit apartment, slowly making their way to Marc and Steven's bed, not without sparing a glance to the couch where the system was settled in. Probably still reading their book. They made a mental note to themselves to ask about the book at a later time, when they'd find a good opportunity.

As they settled into the bed, y/n covered themselves with the blankets Marc had laid out for them. It felt peculiar to sleep in the bed of another man. The scribe felt like they were completely violating the system's personal space, despite Marc insisting on the arrangement, assuring them that it was completely fine.

They stared up at the ceiling, unsure if they were quite ready to sleep yet. The scribe hummed, turning to their side after some time, They listened to the water filter of Gus the Second's fish tank hum amidst the stillness of the night and the occasional turning of page as Steven flipped through his book. In the moments before sleep finally took over the young thing, y/n laid in bed and observed Gus the second swimming around in his little home. They could see him clearly, swimming and exploring in his own little world, and they couldn't help but wonder if Gus ever caught glimpses of Steven and themselves about the apartment and dreamt of leaving his home in the fish tank to explore Steven's apartment.

-----------

@astrobuzzsstuff

@blustalker

@thekaibabes@nerds4life246 @samanthacookieone @thekaibabes @kiara-is-gay @pcotato @sagedgeek @blustalker @atzlena @xiernia @dheet @astrobuzzsstuff @lourecovette @fezlvr @wanderingmaximoffs @jay-alison @dweeb-central @theseawa @mothperson666 @yeetyeetchickenmeat @allynplays @raylan-c @crowpop

@maryvon3002 @flyingmushroomss @livpoststhings @lunalixya @jvdethirlwall @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepressionydepression @childofthemoon7 @daughterofthequeen @forgetful-cupid @lunalixya @voonha @lookitseddie

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v4voracity · 22 days

Text

INTRODUCTION AND MASTERLIST

intro and masterlist below, cut to not take up your feeds :)

INTRODUCTION

Hi, I'm V4Voracity, but you can call me Vee! I'm 18, turning 19 soon! I'm really new to tumblr(like, never really used it before a week ago new), and joined because I saw a fandom I like was most active here! I usually read and sometimes write very self-indulgent fics that I'll share! I use she/they pronouns, and I try to respect pronouns as best as I can, and will usually default to people as they/them if I don't know theirs. Will probably be mostly COD fanfics B)

It's been a few years since I've actually written anything, so I'm probably a little rusty! If you are a minor please don't interact or be cautious about what you consume content warnings are there for a reason, as I like to read darkfics and that may sometimes leak into my own writing. I'm open to criticism and any suggestions!!! Feel free to chat me up !!! I don't currently write smut or sexual NSFW, mainly because I'm not super interested in doing so nor experienced in writing it. My MDNI is mainly because I like to consume and write slightly darker content (though, COD is a series about dudes in the military who kill for a living so... kinda expected?)

MASTERLIST

All series are named after a song, which will be mentioned in the sub-list containing all parts incase your interested. mainly based off what I listen to while writing or what inspired it! I also try to credit if the fic idea was inspired by someone else's work.

Series

TOO CLOSE - (SelfAware! COD characters x reader) HALF A HEART - (COD characters x Poltergeist!reader) WET - (COD characters x Shifter! Reader) VENUS FLY TRAP - (Hybrid! AU COD characters x reader) the crossed out ones above aren't done being written or I haven't got a chance to write them yet but I plan to because they're giving me creative brain worm.

Oneshots

none currently

Misc

none currently

#masterlist #intro post #blog intro #introduction #mdni #master list #masterpost #cod #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty

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justahopelessssromantic · 11 months

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Who did that to you?

A/N: I'm still figuring out getting back into this writing thing. I've missed it so I thought I might try sharing some random pieces. Here's just a little something for Happy Lowman and one of many OC's Evelyn. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think ☺️

Warnings: Nothing really I can think of. It's been a while so please forgive me I'm a little rusty. Happy being protective and just some sweet fluff.

Pairings: Happy Lowman/ OC Evelyn

Happy stepped into the house kicking his boots off and hanging his kutte up by the door. He was quickly met with Bruno and Ellie barking to announce his arrival. Once they assessed the threat was only him they were all tail wags and smiles as they excitedly waited for him to give each of them some attention.

After the joyful greetings he made his way down the hallway to the bedroom discarding his shirt as he went as the two followed behind him before rushing past him and into the bedroom. By now it was very much routine when he'd get in late after a long ride.

It had been a while since he last saw her. Way longer than any of them liked. They talked on the phone as much as they could though with both their busy schedules.

The tv was on, lighting up the bedroom as it quietly played some sitcom reruns. That's when he saw Ruby, the sweet pitbull he had brought home to her a few months ago curled up on the bed. She lifted her head up for a pet before plopping it back down and resuming her nap.

"In here," Evelyn's voice called out from the bathroom. The door was shut all but a crack allowing just a little light to spill through.

Happy stepped into the room just as she was patting her face dry.

"I missed you."

She smiled as he pulled her close. "I missed you too."

His own smile was quick to fall, his rage taking over as he took in the black and blue bruising around her eye. "Who did that to you?" He growled.

She could almost see his demeanor change before it even happened instantly picking up on his change in mood. She had become somewhat of an expert on Happy. She quickly tried to reassure him and turn the situation back around.

"Happy, baby, look at me." She spoke calmly, patiently waiting for his gaze to move from the bruise and meet her eyes. It took some coaxing but eventually his murderous stare met her soft hazel eyes.

"It was an accident." She explained.

"I don’t care. I'm going to kill whoever did that to you. Just give me a name."

"You're not going to kill anyone. It was just an accident.” She grabbed his hand in hers. “One of my patients, he just got confused was all. He didn't mean to and he felt horrible once he realized what he had done."

His body was still tense as he looked down at her and she knew he was still running through a million different ways to make the one responsible suffer. It was in his wiring to protect those he loved. She wouldn't ever want to change that about him but she also wasn't going to let him jump into every fight, especially when there was no need for one.

"You're not going to go beat up an eighty four year old." She reasoned with him.

He huffed. He didn't care how old he was.

"Promise me." She didn't think he'd actually do it but just in case she had to hear him say it.

It only took a few moments of her intense stare down before he gave in. "Fine.”

“Good,” Satisfied she stretched up to give him a kiss before taking his hand and leading him to the bed. He followed close behind her. "I mean I think it kind of looks badass don’t you?”

“Totally badass." He grinned playing along. "My little killer.”

#happy lowman #happy lowman x oc #happy x evelyn #sons of anarchy

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moodymisty · 1 year

Note

Hello, Jordan! I love the stories you write, at least the ones I have read (I didn’t want to spam you, so, I only reblogged one of your Crosshair stories)! I was reading your kinks and thought to myself I might have an interesting idea for a story if you are interested in it, of course!

So, I am a big fan of Alpha (ARC Commander Alpha from the comics) and Captain Fordo (From the 2003 cartoon). I haven’t seen you write for them, or talk of them, but your bio says you are a reader of the lore, if I am lucky enough would you be willing to write my thot for one of them? If not, that is fine.

Here is the idea:

The female reader is one of many civilians that join the Republic military following the first year of the war, and she trains and fights alongside (your choice of clone). She often disappears to remote areas of the base or Star Destroyer to write her own fantasies of being with (choice of clone). But this time, she can’t seem to find her data pad (I think that’s what it is called) in her footlocker that sat in front of her bunk. Not wanting to ask anyone who was in the barracks, she slightly panics until (choice of clone) clears his throat. Turning around slowly, she is horrified to see her data pad in the hands of the clone she often masturbated too.

-end

I was going over the kinks you have listed and picked out a few. I used their numbers so, please forgive me for being lazy. Of course, you can pick and choose, mix, and match. Since I picked them based off what I know or feel like these particular clones are like.

3, 9, 13, 18, 20, 25, 34, 40 and 41, 54, and lastly 72. 🤣🤣🤣🤣

With much love,

Notthatfanfictionwriter

Author's Note: Awww I'm so honored you like my stuff!! And don't worry about spamming me, it flatters me so much to see people people spamming my notifs i take it as a compliment. Lord knows i've done it before to people on this webbed site. ALSO.... fordofordofordofordofordo I love Alpha but Fordo. This was a fun experiment in making the smuttiness in the form of daydreams/thoughts, rather than actually happening. I hope you and everyone else enjoys the style change. I've also never written for Fordo before, so I hope it's ok...;

Relationships: Fordo/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Oral (Male receiving), a tiny reference to Face fucking, a tiny bit of dirty talking/voice kink, daydreaming,

''You're going to shoot yourself in the foot one day, if you keep whipping your blasters around like that."

Packing up your rifle in it's case, you look over to the clones beside you; Oone of whom was playing around with his blasters in a way that was a bit too reckless for your liking. He gives you a bit of a dirty look, while one of the other clones in his group claps his hands together and prays: 'Please let that happen please, that would be hilarious'.

His reaction makes you let out a chuff of air as a laugh, while his friend basks in his irritation. Turning away, you call the target plate you'd been using back to you, so you can clean and finish up. It's absolutely full of holes and well used, throwing it in the trash now that you're done training on it.

Maybe it would be a stretch to call it training however; As it's more just keeping yourself entertained and from getting even the tiniest bit rusty. Hyperspace is boring, especially when there isn't much to entertain yourself on a ship this large. At least planet side on base, you have some fresh air and maybe if you're lucky, you'll see a rare animal or two.

Taking your rifle case and leaving the practice range, it's a struggle to not let all the white and grey of the walls, ceiling, and floors, all blend into a blurry mess. It's quite late and the ships lights are dimmed slightly lower, in a way to poorly simulate a regular day night cycle. As such, it's late. You don't know how many hours it's been since you've last gotten some rest, but it's long enough that you're going to make a straight line right to your tiny little broom closet of a room, and lay down.

"You're going somewhere fast,"

You only look up one you realize they're speaking to you, seeing familiar red painted armor. One of Fordo's men, judging by the particular markings. His standing guard at his station at the crossroads of two hallways, the other person that should be with him seems to be missing from his post at the moment.

"Got bored at the range, and no one's roped me into training against yet. So I'm gonna try and get some shut eye." The trooper nods, his one note chuckle distorted ever so slightly be the reverb of his helmet.

"Don't let me keep you." You wouldn't mind having a chat but, unfortunately your thin, cold bed is a bit more tempting at the moment.

"Tell Fordo I said hi?" His hands shift on his rifle, nodding. "Will do. I'm sure he'll be glad to hear it." Nodding you take your leave, not keeping the trooper from his duties any longer.

While it can admittedly be a bit lonely at times being one of a few civilian fighters aboard a vessel full to the brim with clones, but at least you have your barracks to get away from it sometimes. A nice part about it being that only half of the beds in it have actually been claimed, and with the ship's work rotations always moving, it's not uncommon for you to be completely alone at times.

Punching in the code and entering once again it seems everyone's gone, at least until someone has the same idea as you to steal a little time for yourself. On a Venator class ship you're always on call, but at least for this moment, you're free. It probably won't last long at all but at least you can enjoy this moment of freedom, for as long as you have it.

Grabbing your personal datapad from your locker you decide that in your rare moment you'd work on a bit of a personal hobby. Maybe you can write a little bit before you get too tired to keep your eyes open.

It's more a guilty pleasure than anything; Some self indulgence during a phase where you have little to no time to yourself.

None of this will ever, ever see any eyes beyond yours, as it's meant just for you to enjoy.

It would be mortifying for anyone to lay eyes on it, just in general, let alone if they realized the main male character served as little more than a fog over what was pretty much Fordo down to the atom.

Gods, you were inconsolable. In the dark writing dirty little stories about you and the man you're infatuated with, your commanding officer, you might as well hide under the covers and sneak around as if trying not to get caught.

Opening the current thing you've been toiling away on you read all the way to where you had previously stopped; Right before things were starting to get good. Biting the inside of your cheek your fingers slowly type, trying to put your sordid thoughts to words.

The heat of your breath brushes over the harsh material of his armor, almost fogging it. You can feel his gloved hand on you, cradling the crown of your head with a firm pressure. He keeps that pressure, ever increasing, until your lips drag against the fabric of his flightsuit. The waterline of your bottom lip touches the fabric just for a moment, leaving a tiny darkened stain of spit.

The room has been nearly silent other than two sets of gentle breathes, but when he finally does speak, the deep rumble of his voice cuts through the still air like a vibroknife. It makes your thighs tense, pressing together as you feel the thumb of your heart beat in your cunt.

"Take it off for me. Or do you like the feeling?"

He doesn't have a name, but whenever you imagine him- it's always Fordo. It's so desperate and almost pathetic, but at least you keep your thoughts jotted down here instead of making a fool of yourself in the field.

Clumsy hands freeing his cock from the fabric you can feel the heat of it against your face; Against your lips as your wrap them around the tip. That unique taste, tongue against the head of his cock. His hand doesn't shove your head down to gag on him, but instead just serves as a weight, firm guidance as your lips slide down towards the base.

He keeps it slow, steady listening to the way your mouth makes the wettest, lewdest sounds as his hips twitch upward towards your mouth. He's only a small bit of pressure away from taking complete control, his chest rising and falling faster as he lets out a groan.

"Kriff; Come on, you can take a bit more. I know you can."

You know Fordo isn't talkative. He often times rarely if ever speaks until he absolutely has to. Would that change when he's exposed like this? Or would he continue to be a stalwart, silent man- peering down at you between his thighs?

Neither option is less preferable, but it's impossible to deny the desire to have your Commander 'command' you. That stern voice, maybe distorted by the echo of his helmet, or perhaps not, telling you in intimate detail what he wants you to do to him. Or what he wants to do to you.

Your mouth takes as much of him as you possibly can, the wet heat of your mouth pulling a low, shaking groan from him. Suddenly however he grips your hair and begins to pull you off of his cock, looking down at little stains of spit that dot either corner of your mouth.

"Enough of that. On the desk."

You can't resist the way your thighs press together just a little bit more at the ghostly voice of Fordo in your head saying such things.

Not as if there was ever a single bit of hesitation in your mind, you quickly come up off your knees, standing in front of him in the small space between his chair and the desk. With one hop you move to sit on it and watch as he stands, filling the space between your thighs. His hips force them to spread wider, hands moving to grip your hips and pull you close enough that you teeter just on the edge, grinding against him. You can feel the weight of his cock against your thigh, slick with your own spit.

His own hand lines himself up with your entrance, the other still harshly gripping your hip as he slowly, slowly-

Suddenly, a voice interrupts you from your thoughts before you can continue with them.

"Captain Fordo is requesting you in his quarters. Something about your next mission."

Your head suddenly turns on a swivel, only to see a trooper standing in the doorway of your small barracks. He's delivered his order and takes his leave before you even have a chance to recover from your surprise.

You have to go, as much as you might want to finish up what you'd been in the middle of. You decide to just roughly jot down the rest of what's in your mind, just so you don't forget.

Throwing your legs off the side of the bunk they hit the ground with a soft thud. You've been there multiple times, but not for anything close to the lewdness you think up when it's late. He's probably just going to update you on some innocuous report, before then dismissing you. As much as you would hope it would be a little bit more exciting.

Arriving and opening the door to his quarters it's the exact same as the last time you'd been here; Sparce and devoid of anything beyond the bare necessities. Not uncommon, for clone quarters. Fordo is standing close to the small desk towards the side of the room, looking up when he notices you. The way he perks up slightly isn't lost on you, though he presumably is just surprised to see you here so quickly.

And in usual nature for Fordo, he's right to the point.

"We're exiting hyperspace soon. When we drop planetside, I'd like you to take sniper support. Since our usual is still in the medbay."

Seems simple enough. You nod, making a mental note to give your rifle a once over before you head out. Not that it needs it, but you enjoy the peace of mind the action gives you. Better safe then sorry.

"Sure thing. I'll be ready by then."

He expects no less than that from you, and you haven't let him down once yet. He watches you leave, the door closing behind you. He has no need to lock it, so instead he sits back down in his chair, leaning back ever so slightly. Dark brown eyes glance to the left, and notice something unfamiliar resting on the corner of the desk.

She left her datapad here? Picking it up Fordo glances over the unlocked screen, before deciding to take a look. He doesn't really see any innate harm from it, until he starts reading and realizes just what he's gotten into.

The flush of her skin, it feels so hot to the touch it might almost boil. His cock feels almost in her stomach, impossibly deep and stretching her perfectly. Every move he makes the sound of skin on armor echoes in the small, cold confines of the room, now filled with the scent of sex.

He's rough; You feel any harder and he's going to leave marks. On your hips, thighs, the way his teeth scrape against the exposed skin of your neck.

Fordo in all his stalwart nature falters, reading the lewd words you'd written up and feels his face getting a bit hot.

The edge of the desk digging into your stomach it's impossible not to hear the way it groans until the battering it's taking, as he fucks you almost into the desk itself. Your hands grip the edge like it's a lifeline, toes curling in your boots as you feel your own wet arousal slick against your outer lips and almost leaking down your inner thighs.

"F-For-" A rough thrust of his hips cuts off your words before you even have a chance to speak them. Your legs tighten around him even has the edges of his armor rub uncomfortably against your skin, but you're too foggy minded by the way he's fucking you to care in the slightest.

You'd slipped up; And while you'd avoided using any names through hundreds, even thousands of words, you forgot and habitually wrote his name in once.

It's... Enlightening.

Fordo has long thought his secret affections for you were largely nonsense and had relegated them to a secured lockbox at the back of his head, so to see that it seems to go both ways, he's nervous but, hopeful.

He keeps reading, and soon finds himself immersed in your daydreams like they're his own.

You get back to your barracks in record time, still apt to finish your little daydream before you have to purge it from your mind again. The light flicks on the moment it sees motion, walking in the direction of your bunk. But when you reach to grab your datapad and get back to your little moment of self indulgence, you notice that it's nowhere to be seen.

Oh shit.

Where is it? You swore you'd left it here when you had gone to talk to Fordo, but then you remember that it had been in your hands, and the only option is that you'd left it behind in his quarters.

Which is an actual nightmare scenario, considering what is on it. There's more than a fair share of things you'd never want anyone to see, let alone him. You just hope you can get it back, before he gets a little bit curious. As no matter how cut and by the rules Fordo is, curiosity is a tempting beast.

Bursting off the bunk you quickly race down the halls backtracking all the way to Fordo, where you quickly open the still unlocked door. Once you do, you see the red paint of his armor, along with something in his hands. It seems like your nightmare has come true, even as you speak as if attempting to see that you've misread what is happening in front of you.

"Fordo? What are you-" He gets up from his seat, still holding the piece of technology in his hands.

"You left this behind." Your entire body freezes up. You can tell by the way he isn't exactly meeting your gaze that he absolutely saw what was on it, at minimum what you were currently working on. Gently taking it from his hands you hold it close, pursing your lips.

"You are a very good writer. At least, as far as my experience goes." Fordo hasn't exactly had the time to read to many things beyond reports in his time.

He, decides not to bring up where he'd glossed over his name, but instead uses it as fuel to say something he'd been hoping to gather up the courage to do for quite awhile.

He'll have to keep it a secret but; Kriff it. He wants a day off. With you.

"When we're back planet side, how about we get a drink." You're still wide eyed holding your datapad close, but can't help but nod.

Well, this all turned out a bit different than you'd expected. Not that you're complaining.

"Yeah, sure. I'd like that."

#captain fordo x reader #the clone wars 2003 #Captain Fordo/Reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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