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ann-writes-universes · 4 months

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The Jeweler (AzrielxReader)

A/N: Missed you guys <3 Not my best but its cutie.

EDIT (Jan 23.2024): Forgot to add the tag list, srry guys :,) <33333

W.C: 1.3k

Warnings: Slight mentions of smut. Angst?

Winter in Velaris was truly a marvel. As the solstice approached decorations and lights littered the buildings of The Rainbow, and the streets bustled with life as city goers made last minute preparations.

From the frost coated glass of your apartment you watched as families scurried out of the cold, and lonesome travelers slowed by shop windows to take a peek inside. From its place on the wall your clock struck seven and you tore your eyes away from the scene below. If you listened closely enough you could hear as the jeweler, Mr. Krazinski, downstairs, closed up shop for the evening and began to head home for the weekend. As he went about his Friday evening routine- you too began your own. The tea you had been nursing (now cold) was discarded and a bath was drawn full of lavender and other frilly things an herbalist nymph had convinced you to buy earlier in the day. In no time, the pale blue tiles of your bathroom were slick and steam was rolling out from beneath the door- spilling into your hall. In the living room you lit candles, cedar and pine. The fae lights bobbing on your wall were extinguished, only the crackling fireplace radiated light now. The clock struck eight then, and you moseyed towards the bath. You’d take your time there- worship yourself and make sure every inch was perfect. He’d be there by eleven after all. By the time the clock struck nine the bath had drained, bits of lavender and other botanicals slowly drying to the bottom of your tub. You had pulled out your fineries. Lotions, perfumes, wine. At ten you were dressed, a deep emerald number- frilled with lace. Here was the winter solstice tree, lit for the occasion and you standing before it. With only half an hour left you downed your glass of wine, curled up in a chair facing the door. Eleven strikes and the locks begin to turn. Within moments your small doorframe is crowded by seven feet of illyrian muscle and wing. He’s dressed simply this week- dark trousers and a thick cable knit sweater. His wings are pulled tight, remnants

of snow melting off their taloned tips.

“Right on time, Shadowsinger.” You purred, trailing the rim of your glass with your scarlet red finger tip. He hummed his reply, stepping into the threshold of your home and firmly relocking the door behind him- a habit he had when he stayed here. You had always found it quite charming- him locking the door as if the most dangerous creature in Velaris would not be curled up in your sheets within the hour.

“Am I ever late, Jeweler?”

You audibly chuckled then,a noise that had a smile tugging at the Illyiran’s lips as he settled into the couch. Jeweler was a name he had been fondly calling you for years now, ever since he found out where you resided.

“I suppose not.”

He was looking at you then, dragging his eyes back and forth across your frame and the bits of exposed skin. If you had been naive you would have thought it was the surmounting heat of the fire making him shift in his seat. But naive you were not. You placed your wine glass on the floor as you stood and sauntered over to where he sat. Azriel placed his hands on your hips and with one firm tug you were in his lap. He chuckled as you stumbled forward- a flailing thing compared to the elegance with once you just moved. Strong arms enveloped you and the room around you seemed to fade. The troubles of the week melted away as the shadowsinger kissed his way down your neck, across your collar, and down, down, down…

You had lived a long time and experienced many things but the way Azriel made you feel was different than anything you had encountered before. With a stroke of his fingers he had you writhing and moaning gutturally, falling blissfully further away from the world around you. By the time the two of you were spent, the fire had reduced itself to cinders in the hearth. Outside- a blizzard was well into forming, snow pushing its way past the glamors which kept Velaris safe from any real damage.

You lay splayed across the rug before the fire- an afghan he had grabbed slung across your forms. Above your heads, strong cedar beams supported the ceiling. If you squinted, spiders had made homes in the corners and were scurrying dutifully across the wood.

“Sometimes I think about staying here for good.” Azriel mumbled from beside you, his voice halting the soft circles he had been tracing into the bare skin of your side. You let out an airy chuckle at his statement and turned your head to face him.

“So why don’t you?” A question you knew the answer too. One he knew the answer too as well.

He seemed to mull over your words for a moment anyhow before stating, “Because Jeweler, if I saw you everyday- im afraid it would change my life.”

You stared at him for a moment, holding his hardened gaze. He seemed serious- deathly so. But he was not, and you knew that much. Keeping the thought at hand you laughed once more and teasingly shoved at his bare chest as you stood from the floor.

“Of course it would, Shadowsinger. You would be reminded of Mr. Krazinski’s sales everyday instead of every Friday evening.”

Azriel audibly groaned as you pranced towards the bathroom to fetch a robe. When you returned to the living room he was tugging on his pants.

“Why dont you let me take you out to eat next week?” Azriel offered as he slipped his sweater back on. A boot following not far behind it. Leaning in the doorframe of the hallway you smiled tightly but only offered him a shrug.

“You know where I stand on dates, Azriel.”

“Then don't call it a date.” He shot, frustrated that you would not cave.

From across the room you searched his eyes, tried desperately to find something that would make you change your mind- and you… couldn't. You see, you knew who Azriel was. You had known him for the past two decades- and your bed had seen him through some very tumultuous parts of his life. Several times over the years he had tried to take it further than pleasure, but your answer had always been no. There was no denying he was an attractive male, witty, incredible in bed, and even charming when he chose to be- but most of all he was the Spymaster of Rhysand’s Court. A master of deception and torture. You lived above a jeweler, taught nighttime pottery classes, and drank chai tea. His was not a life you could keep up with. And yours was one he would tire of quickly. To go on a date with Azriel would be to open a door that you were not sure you could step through- terrified of what lay on the other side.

“Im Sorry, Azriel. You know I-” Before you could finish he smiled tightly and nodded.

“You cant. I know.” He tugged his jacket on as he spoke and headed towards the door. He did not say goodbye as he left, merely shut the door and locked it behind him. Listening to him clunk down the tiny staircase ached every week- but this one especially so. Yet again he had confronted you with a reality you could very well possess but simply could not yet face. Flopping down onto your couch you poured the last of your long forgotten wine and stared as the liquid swirled in your glass.

He would return next week- inevitably to ask you out yet again. And maybe it was the last of the wine souring your brain as you tossed it back- but as you curled into your bed that night, you thought that maybe next week- just maybe… you would say yes.

TAGS:

@brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @younxii @momlo @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @highladyofillyria @crimsonandwhiteprincess @purplevitagen @isthataknuck

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soulofapatrick · 2 months

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Domesticated - Jace Herondale x Female (Daylighter) Reader

Summary: this is a 5 + 1 of all the times you and Jace act like a couple even before you admit feelings for each other

Words: 6k

Warnings: injury, bleeding, blood drinking

Y/N’s POV -

Part One

I’m not really sure when Jace appearing at random hours of the day in my apartment became a normal things. He’s dirty and covered in ichor from a demon hunt the Clave sent him and Alec on and he’s grumbling to himself as he shrugs off his leather jacket. There’s dried blood on him from wounds his iratze rune probably healed and he’s toeing off his shoes before grumbling more about the demons.

“I’m going to shower.” He tells me, voice gruff but there’s a softness to it as he addresses me.

“Alright Jace.” I respond, turning back to the show I was watching, waiting up for him to get back as it’s nearly 2am. Being a vampire is weird, especially a daylighter like Simon as at first I was nocturnal and now, suddenly, I’m back to daylight hours. It was weird getting used to humanity again but ever since Jace has been coming round it’s been easier somehow.

As I listen to the sound of the water running in the bathroom, I can’t help but think about how effortlessly Jace fits into my life. We’ve been…friends? Yeah, friends for so long, and lately, it feels like we’ve crossed some invisible line into something more. But whenever I’m around him, my heart would be pounding if it could still beat and there’s a stirring in my undead soul, a flutter of excitement I though I had long forgotten.

If it weren’t for Jace, I might have left the Shadowhunter world behind altogether, taken Magnus up on whisking me somewhere far away, maybe Canada, Clary and Simon, my own best friends, seem to have forgotten about me again, lost in their own adventures and relationship. And Luke, the only parental figure in my life, is more invested in his pack than checking up on me. But somehow, Jace always manages to find his way back to my doorstep, like a guiding light in the darkness.

I remember the first time he appeared on my doorstep, how he looked at me with those piercing golden eyes and saw something in me that no one else seemed to. He didn’t treat me like a monster or a freak because of what I had become, but instead, he saw me for who I truly am—a creature worthy of love and friendship.

And now, sitting here on the couch, waiting for him to remerge from the bathroom, I can’t help but wonder how the hell we ended up here in this weird dance and routine, so domesticated. One moment we’re battling demons and next, we’re lounging on the couch like a couple of teenagers on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Finally, after what feel like an eternity, Jace remerges from the bathroom, looking surprisingly innocent and boyish in a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a graphic tee-shirt that I’m pretty sure is either mine or my brothers. His hair is still damp from the shower, tousled in a way that makes him look disarmingly handsome. Despite the exhaustion tech into his features, there’s a spark in his golden eyes that never fails to draw me in.

Jace collapses onto the couch beside me, his head finding its place on my shoulder, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. His weight against me is comforting, like an anchor tethering me to reality amidst the chaos of our lives. I close my eyes, revelling in the warmth of his presence and the steady rhythm of his breath against my skin.

As exhaustion finally catches up to him, his breathing evens out, lulling me into a sense of peace. I listen to the sound of his steady inhales and exhales, a gentle melody that soothes my restless mind. And as I drift off into sleep, I'm enveloped in the cocoon of his scent—sunshine and something uniquely Jace, mixed with the subtle fragrance of my shower products. It's a comforting aroma, one that fills me with a sense of belonging and contentment.

In the depths of slumber, I feel his warmth beside me, a constant presence that eases my fears and worries. But when I wake in the morning, he's gone, leaving behind only a hastily scrawled note on my coffee table. My heart sinks as I read his words, explaining that Alec called him in early for paperwork and debriefing on the previous day's hunt.

Despite the pang of disappointment at his absence, I can't help but smile at the thought of him, out there in the world, fighting alongside his fellow Shadowhunters. And as I rise to start the day, I carry with me the memory of his presence, the echo of his warmth lingering in the air like a promise of his return.

Part Two

I awake to a crashing and the grumbled cry of Jace, my panic immediately vanishing at the sound of his voice. My phone reads 7.03pm and I’m realising my nap was longer than I had planned or anticipated, having tried to stay awake for Jace who had messaged me to say he’d be home in time for dinner.

As I groggily process the situation, something within me stirs at the realisation Jace used the word “home” to describe my place. It’s a simple word, but coming from him, it carries a weight that sends a flutter through my un-beating heart. I push aside the covers and pull myself sleepy from bed, feeling the fabric of a shirt that definitely isn’t mine brush against my skin as it reaches mid-thigh.

Shuffling towards the kitchen, I’m met with the sight and smell of chaos. Jace is in the midst of a culinary disaster, his brow furrowed in frustration as he grumbles to himself. The scent of burning food fills the air, assaulting my sensitive vampire senses, But despite the mess and the mishap, there’s something oddly endearing about the scene—the way Jace is so determined to make dinner for us, even if it means nothing is going according to plan.

As I approach him, I can’t help but smile at the sight of him, his hir tousled and his expression a mix of annoyance and determination. Despite the chaos, there a sense of warmth and familiarity in the air, a feeling of him that I’ve come to associate with him.

I head straight for the fridge to grab fresh ingredients as soon as I get the gist of what he was trying to make by the minced meat and the spaghetti, catching the way he looks at me. There’s a softness in his gaze, a silent appreciation for my presence and the way I effortlessly step in to salvage the situation. But when I reach for the pasta sauce, Jace stops me, holding up a jar of red liquid.

My heart tries to burst out of my chest when I realise what it is. Jace wasn’t just trying to make dinner for us; he was trying to recreate a meal I loved as a human, altered for my now vampire self. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes about his thoughtfulness and the depth of his care for me.

“Raphael said it was the best of the best and told me how to prepare it so it doesn’t…” Jace waves his hands around trying to think of the word Raphael used, “Separate?”

I can’t help but laugh softly at the face Jace makes as he says the word ‘separate’. It’s moments like these that remind me of just how endearing he can be, even when he’s trying his best to navigate unfamiliar territory like helping a vampire like me.

Stepping closer to him, I wrap my arms around him in a hug, feeling the tension in his muscles as he hesitates before finally relaxing enough to return the embrace. His strong arms wrap around me, pulling me close as he buries his face in my hair. In the moment, with the scent of blood and spices lingering in the air and the warmth of Jace’s embrace surrounding me, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love for the man standing in front of me.

Reluctantly, Jace finally lets me go, suggesting we try cooking again. As I try to assist him, he’s suddenly spinning me back to face and him and gripping my waist in his strong hands, lifting me and sitting me on a clean area of the counter top, “You’re to just sit there and look pretty while I work this out.” He says with a smirk, a hint of redness colouring his cheeks.

I can’t help but let out the most embarrassing giggle at his sudden shyness, feeling a warmth spread through me at his playfulness. As I watch him move around the pitch with practiced ease, a sense of contentment washes over me. Despite the chaos and mishaps, being here with Jace feels like home.

And as I sit on the counter, watching him cook, I cant’t help but feel grateful for moments like these—simple, ordinary, mundane moments that remind me of what I could have had when human. Surrounded by the warmth and aroma of our makeshift meal and Jace’s soft humming as he cooks, I know that no matter what challenges may come our way, as long as we have each other, we'll always find a way to make it through.

Part Three

The library is quiet as I slip inside, the familiar scent of old books and parchment greeting me like an old friend. Alec had given me permission to use the Institute as a safe haven whenever I like, and I often find myself wandering towards the library. It’s become my sanctuary, a place where I can escape the weird world I’m now a part of and lose myself in the pages of novels and histories.

As I roam the aisles, my fingers trailing along the spines of countless books, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. The library is a treasure trove of knowledge, and I’ve made it my mission to learn as much as I can about the Shadowhunter world. I immerse myself in the histories of the Clave, learning about the battles fought and the heroes who rose to prominence, the history of the main families in this world.

Eventually, I pick a book off the shelves, one that Alec had actually recommended to me during one of our conversations. It’s a thick volume filled with tales of Shadowhunter lore, and I can’t wait to delve into its pages. With a contented sigh, I sink into one of the soft loveseats scattered throughout the massive library, feeling eh weight of the book in my hands as I lose myself in the pages.

For the rest of the afternoon, I’m lost in a world of magic and mystery, my surroundings fading away as I become immersed in the story unfolding before me. The hours pass in a blur, but in the moment, surrounded by the knowledge and history of the Shadowhunters, I feel a sense of belonging and purpose that I’ve been searching for since the day I was turned.

My attention is momentarily drawn away from the pages of the book in my hand by the faint murmur of voices approaching. It takes a moment but I’m recognising the voices, the cadence of their speech familiar to me even from a distance with my new hearing abilities. But it’s the sound of the library door opening that truly captures my attention, and when I look up, my heart skips a beat at the sight of a familiar blonde figure standing in the doorway.

Jace.

His golden eyes scan the room, searching, until they land on me. A smile spreads across his face, lighting up his features in a way that never fails to make my heart flutter like it’s still beating, “There you are, Mouse,” He greets, using the stupid pet name he’s decided for me, “You weren’t at home.”

As he strides over, my attention is captivated by the way his muscles ripple beneath the fabric of his tight black shirt, each movement a testament to his strength and grace. My pulse would be skyrocketing if it could, and I can feel a flush from the recent blood I drank creeping its way up my neck as he stops in front of me, his presence commanding and magnetic.

“Hey Jace,” I manage to say, voice betraying the flutters of excitement I feel within me.

He smirks, golden eyes dancing with amusement as if he knows what he’s doing to me, “What were you doing here all alone?” He asks, tone teasing yet filled with genuine curiosity.

I just shrug, attempting to maintain an air of casualness despite the turmoil of emotions swirling within me, “Just needed the quiet.” I reply, my voice soft.

He nods in understanding, his expression softening as he reaches out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The simple gesture sending a shiver down my spine, igniting a rush of sensations that I struggle to contain. His proximity, his touch—it's all too much, and yet not enough.

“Hey, listen,” He says, his voice warm and inviting, “We’re all heading to the Hunter’s Moon to hear Simon sing, You wanna join us?”

The thought of being surrounded by so many voices, sounds and smells—the overwhelming sensory overload—has me shuddering involuntarily. I feel a knot form in my stomach, a wave of anxiety washing over me at the mere thought of venturing out into the bustling world beyond the quiet of the Institute currently.

With a shaky breath, I shake my head almost aggressively, “No, I think I’ll pass.” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper, “I’m… I’m not really in the mood for crowds tonight.”

Jace nods in understanding, his expression sympathetic, “Hey, that’s okay,” He reassures me, his voice gentle, and he’s surprising me by leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, “You do what feels right for you. But if you ever change your mind, we’ll be there.”

I offer him a weak smile, grateful for his understanding, “Thanks Sunshine.” I murmur, the weight of my anxiety slowly easing with his words of reassurance and his sweet actions.

As Jace turns to leave, I watch him go, feeling a sense of longing wash over me like a gentle tide. His departure leaves an ache in my chest, a yearning for something more, something I can't quite name. But then, I feel the lingering warmth of his kiss on my cheek, a fleeting touch that sends a jolt of electricity through me.

Despite my reluctance to join them, a part of me wishes I could be there, sharing in the camaraderie and laughter with Jace and the others. The thought of being by his side, laughing and joking like we always do, fills me with a bittersweet longing.

In the moment, as I sit alone in the quiet solitude of the library, the whole interaction feels strangely domesticated, as if it’s something we’ve done a thousand times before. Jace’s kiss was casual yet intimate, like it was a natural extension of our friendship, and yet it leaves me yearning for more.

I can’t help but replay the moment in my mind, the sensation of his lips against my cold skin, the warmth of his touch. It’s a memory I want to hold onto, to savour and cherish, and yet it only serves to deepen my desire for him.

As I sink back into the soft cushions of the loveseat, the ache in my chest lingers, a constant reminder of the feelings I can’t shake. I want him to kiss me again, to make me feel alive in a way I never thought possible. And as I close my eyes and let out a heavy sigh, I know that despite the risks and uncertainties, I can't deny the pull he has on my undead heart.

Part Four

I honestly have no idea how I ended up in the training room with Jace but I definitely know how I ended up on my ass glaring up at his laughing figure. Jace decided that he was going to teach me how to defend myself as Alec wants downworlders to help Shadowhunters on patrols to bridge the gap that had formed since Valentine.

So here I am, climbing to my feet and glaring at Jace who readies himself for another round and my body is already aching. Jace is already readying himself for another round, and I steel myself for the onslaught, determined to at least make him break a sweat. As he lunges at me, I use my vampire speed to dodge and jab him in the back with my elbow with precision. But before I can revel in the small victory, he’s already spinning around and swiping my feet out from underneath me again.

I hit the ground with a frustrated grunt, the air would have been knocked out of me if I were still breathing. I let out a sound of pure annoyance as I lie there, staring up at the ceiling, feeling so goddamn angry that I haven’t managed to get Jace down once.

“Come on, Mouse,” Jace says, offering me a hand up, “You’re getting better, I promise.”

I take his hand and pull myself to my feet yet again, but the weight of defeat still hangs heavy on my shoulders. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to measure up to Jace's level of skill and agility. It's frustrating, disheartening even, to constantly fall short despite my best efforts.

With a heavy sigh, I get back into position, expecting Jace to do the same but instead a small gasp is drawn from me when I feel his body practically pressed to my back as he adjusts my positioning. I feel a rush of warmth as he nudges my feet into a better position and adjusts my arms, guiding them a little higher.

His touch is firm yet gentle, his hands moving with practiced precision as he adjusts my stance. And then, his hands fall to my hips, twisting them slightly to improve my balance before he steps back, satisfied with his work.

I’m left standing there, the lingering sensations of his touch sending a shiver down my spine. Despite the lack of a heartbeat or any physical sensations, I can’t deny the way he makes me feel. Safe. Protected. As if, just for a moment, the weight of the world is lifted from my shoulders and I can simply be.

With a renewed determination, I square my shoulder and focus on the task at hand. As we being sparring again, I find myself moving with a newfound confidence, each strike more precise than the last. And then, miraculously, it happens—I actually manage to get Jace down for once.

I just watch in disbelief as he hits the ground, a surprised laugh escaping him as he looks up at me with sparkling eyes. In the moment, his laughter is like music to y ears, lighthearted. As Jace lies there, sprawled on the ground with a grin that could light up the room, I can't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. His boyish charm and playful energy are infectious, making me forget for a moment that we're supposed to be training. But as he starts to rise, that cocky smirk forming on his lips, I know the challenge isn't over yet.

With a twinkle in his eyes, he beckons me forward, goading me to try again. His confidence is palpable, almost tangible in the air between us. And I, of course, take the bait, eager to prove myself once more.

But, as I unleash my vampire strength and speed, throwing my self into the spar with all I’ve got, I quickly realise that Jace has activated both runes, his agility now matching mine. His speed rune makes him a formidable opponent, dodging and waving with ease, always one step ahead.

In the blink of an eye, he’s behind me, sweeping my feet out from under me with a swift motion. I feel the ground rushing up to meet me, but my reflexes kick in instinctively. As I tumble backwards, I grab onto Jace’s shirt, pulling him down with me.

We land in a tangled heap, laughter bubbling up between us as we lie there, catching our breath. For a moment, time seems to stand still, the world around us fading away until it's just the two of us, tangled together on the ground. I can smell how sweet and like sunshine Jace’s blood smells in his veins and feel the way his heart is pounding as he buries his face in my neck.

And in the moment, I realise just how much I enjoy being with him, the easy camaraderie and undeniable chemistry between us, making me, again, realise just how domesticated we are with each other.

Part Five

The rain is coming down so hard it’s bordering on hail and as overwhelming as my senses are, the sound of it hitting the windows of my apartment is actually very comforting. Jace is in the shower again, coming back from another demon nest hunt and he’s told me he ordered pizzas on his way home as he invited the others around to jin us for the movie night before he jumped in the shower.

As grateful as I am for his presence, a flicker of anxiety creeps into my mind at the thought of the others joining us. Alec and Magnus have always been welcoming, their easygoing nature together putting me at ease from the start. But Simon and Clary, lost in their own bubble of love, often seem oblivious to anyone around them nowadays, especially me their childhood friend. And Izzy.. well, Izzy can get anyone she wants with a bat of her eyelashes has me a little jealous.

As I wait for Jace to emerge from the shower, the sound of the rain drumming against the window grows louder, echoing the turmoil of my thoughts. I find myself questioning whether I’ll be able to navigate the dynamics of the evening, whether I’ll be able to hold my own amidst the company of the Shadowhunters and Downworlders that make up Jace’s inner circle.

But then, as if sensing my apprehension, Jace appears, a towel draped casually around his waist and a smile lighting up his face. It’s as if time itself pauses for a moment, allowing me to drink in the sight before me. His presence is like a beacon of light in the dimly lit apartment, his golden eyes sparkling with warmth and mischief. With his damp hair tousled and his skin glistening with droplets of water, he looks every bit like an adonis, a vision of strength and beauty.

The towel draped casually around his waist hangs dangerously low, teasingly revealing the beginnings of his happy trail. My gaze is drawn to the tantalising glimpse of skin, the curve of his hips, the sculptured muscles of his abdomen. It's a sight that leaves me breathless, a reminder of just how effortlessly attractive he is.

But it's not just his physical appearance that captivates me; it's the way he carries himself, with a confidence that borders on arrogance yet somehow remains endearing. His smile is like a beacon of warmth, infectious and irresistible, drawing me closer with its magnetic pull.

As he moves closer, the scent of his shower gel fills the air, a heady mixture of musk and citrus that sends a shiver down my spine. I find myself mesmerised by the play of light and shadow on his skin, the way the droplets of water cling to his body like liquid diamonds. He brushes a gentle kiss against my cheek, his touch reassuring in its familiarity, a warmth spreading through me, soothing the lingering traces of anxiety that had gripped me moments before. His touch is a familiar reassurance, grounding me to the present moment and easing the flutter of my nonexistent heartbeat.

But before I can fully lose myself in the intimacy of the moment, a sharp knock at the door interrupts us, shattering the fragile bubble of privacy we’ve created. With a playful smack to Jace’s arm I stop him from heading to the door, “Go get some damn clothes on, I’ll answer it.” Before I’m striding over to answer the door, cheeks flushed with a heat that most likely betrays the intensity of my emotions.

As I swing the door open, Jace is ducking into our room and I’m met with the amused gazes of Alec and Magnus, their eyebrows raised in teasing curiosity. Magnus’ playful smirk hints at the mischief dancing in his eyes, while Alec's expression is a mix of amusement and affection.

Despite my embarrassment at being caught in such a vulnerable moment, I can't help but smile at the sight of them. Their presence is like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds, casting a warm glow over the room and dispelling the tension that had threatened to linger.

Suppressing the urge to bury my burning cheeks in my hands, I offer them a sheepish grin, knowing they heard what I said through the door, hoping to deflect their teasing with a lighthearted remark. But as Magnus's eyebrow quirks suggestively, I know that my attempt at nonchalance has fallen short. So, with a sigh of resignation, I step aside to let them in, knowing that there's no use in trying to hide the flush that still colours my cheeks

As I step aside to let them in, Alec hands me a DVD with a knowing smile. I can’t help bit roll my eyes fondly at his choice—Dracula. It’s become somewhat of an inside joke between me and Jace so I just know Jace told him to bring it. But before I have a chance to protest, Magnus is interjecting, his tone unreadable as he tells me “I’m afraid the others won’t be joining us tonight,”

But Magnus’ words cut through the light-hearted banter, his tone carrying an unexpected weight as he informs me of the absence of our other friends. A pang of disappointment courses through me, a subtle ache in my chest as I realise that Clary and Simon won't be joining us tonight. They were more than just friends—they were my childhood companions, the ones who had been there through thick and thin. Their absence feels like a tangible loss, a reminder of how much our lives have changed since those carefree days of youth.

As I put the DVD in and get it ready, sinking into the couch with a heavy heart, I can't help but feel a sense of longing for the comfort of their presence. But I push aside those feelings, focusing instead on the company of Alec and Magnus, who have become like family to me in their own right.

I sink into the cushions, allowing Alec and Magnus to take the other couch as we wait for Jace to return with the pizzas. Despite the disappointment lingering in the air, there's a quiet camaraderie between us, a shared understanding that in times of need, we can always rely on each other.

As the anticipation of Jace's return hangs in the air, the sound of the door opening signals his arrival. He appears just in time to answer the door, a grin spreading across his face as he enters with pizzas in hand. The sight of him brings a flicker of warmth to my heart, dispelling the lingering disappointment of our missing friends.

Jace sets the pizzas down on the table with a flourish, his presence injecting a sense of energy into the room. With a casual ease, he joins us on the couch, seamlessly sliding in beside me. Without a second thought, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me snugly into his side. The gesture both comforting and familiar, a silent reassurance of his affection for me. I lean into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against mine as he adjusts the blanket to cover us both. It's a simple act, but it speaks volumes about the bond we share—a bond that transcends words and barriers, connecting us on a deeper level.

With the remote in hand, Jace settles back against the cushions, his gaze fixed on the screen as he starts the movie. As the opening credits roll, I feel a sense of contentment wash over me, grateful for the warmth of Jace's embrace and the company of friends who feel like family.

Despite the disappointments and challenges we may face, in this moment, surrounded by laughter and love, I know that we'll always have each other. And as we lose ourselves in the world of Dracula, I find solace in the simple pleasures of friendship and companionship, knowing that no matter what the future may hold, we'll face it together, as a team.

Plus One

I’m not really sure how it happened but one moment I’m walking home from a day at the coffee shop and the next I’m being thrown into a wall. A wave of disorientating pain washes over me, leaving me gasping for breath and struggling to make sense eo what just happened. My sense reel, the world spinning in a dizzying blur as I try to focus on what just hit me.

For a terrifying moment, I’m convinced that this is it—that I’m facing my end, torn to shreds by whatever unseen force assaulted me. Panic claws at the edges of my consciousness, threatening to consume me as I brace for the final blow.

But then, as suddenly as it began, the assault ceases, leaving me trembling and shaken in its wake, unable to heal as I’ve lost too much blood. Slowly, I stagger to my feet, the world still spinning around me as I struggle to regain my bearings.The realisation that I’ve lost too much blood to heal hits me like a physical blow, leaving me lightheaded and unsteady. Every step is a battle against the dizziness and weakness that threatens to overwhelm me, but I push forward with grim determination.

With each faltering step, the distance to the institute feels impossibly far, unable to use vampire speed without passing out. Panic sets in as I realise that Jace, my lifeline, is at the Institute today, and he hasn’t called to tell me he’s on his way home. Fear grips me like a vice, squeezing the breath from my lungs as I struggle to keep moving forwards.

The world around me blurs as I stumble out of the alleyway and into the desired streets. My vision swims, the darkness closing in around me as I fight to stay conscious. Each breath is a struggle, my lungs burning with exertion as I push my body beyond its limits.

Time loses all meaning as I continue to trudge forwards my footsteps echoing in the empty silence of the night. The Institute looms in the distance like a beacon of hope, its towering walls offering the promise of safety and sanctuary. But with each passing moment, it feels as though I'm slipping further and further away, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness.

Desperation claws at the edge of my consciousness as I force myself to keep moving, driven by the fear of what awaits me if I don’t reach the Institute in time. Every step is a battle against the darkness that threatens to engulf me, but I refuse to give up.

With every ounce of strength I can muster, I push myself forward, determination fuelling my movements as I draw upon the last reserves of energy within me. As I approach the looming doors of the Institute, desperation spurs me to action, and I unleash the full force of my vampire speed.

The doors fly open before me with a forceful momentum, swinging wide as if welcoming me home. But even as I breach the threshold, I trigger the wards surrounding the entrance, setting off alarms that echo through the empty halls. Before I can fully comprehend the situation, Jace appears before me, his weapon raised in a defensive stance. The sight of him, strong and unwavering, fills me with both relief and a sense of impending doom. I choke out his name, my voice barely a whisper as I struggle to remain upright.

My knees give way beneath me, threatening to send me crashing to the unforgiving tiles below. But in the blink of an eye, Jace is there, his arms wrapping around me with lightning speed, catching me before I can hit the ground. The seraph blade clatters to the floor, forgotten in the urgency of the moment as Jace sinks us to the floor, cradling me in his arms, his eyes filled with concern and a hint of fear. I reach out to him, my fingers trembling as they brush against his cheek, a silent plea for reassurance.

Despite my initial resistance, Jace's urgency is palpable, his wrist pressed insistently against my mouth as he pleads with me to drink. Fear courses through me as I shake my head, the thought of losing control terrifying me to the core. But as the scent of his blood fills my senses, a primal hunger takes hold, overpowering my rational thoughts. With a grip on my hair that borders on painful, Jace guides my mouth to the wound on his wrist, his other hand pressing against the back of my head. The taste of his blood is like nothing I've ever experienced before—warm and intoxicating, with a sweetness that rivals the warmth of the sun.

As I drink, the fog that had clouded my mind begins to lift, clarity returning with each swallow. Guilt washes over me in waves, but I can't bring myself to stop. Jace's blood is a lifeline, grounding me in the present moment and soothing the ache of my wounds. I feed until I can feel the worst of the wounds stopping bleeding, my tongue lapping at the skin on Jace’s wrist to seal it shut. The taste of his blood lingering on my lips, a bittersweet taste.

With a sigh of relief, I collapse against Jace's safe chest, my body trembling with exhaustion and relief. His touch is gentle yet firm, his hand cupping my jaw with a tenderness that tugs at my heartstrings. I feel his thumb under my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his, and as I look into those golden eyes, I see the raw emotion reflected in their depths.

Tears glisten in his eyes, a silent testament to the fear and concern he's been harboring for me. His voice is soft as he checks if I'm okay, the sound of it like a soothing balm to my battered soul. In that moment, I realise just how much he cares, how deeply he feels, and the thought fills me with a warmth that transcends the physical.

As he leans down, his lips ghosting over mine with a hesitance that speaks volumes, I can feel the tension building between us, a palpable electricity that crackles in the air. My heart would be hammering in my chest, a rhythm that matches the erratic beat of his own. A small whine escapes my throat, a sound born of longing and need, and in that instant, his resolve crumbles. His lips crash against mine with a fervour that steals my breath away, a kiss so full of passion and intensity that it leaves me reeling.

In that moment, I feel alive in a way I never have before, as if every nerve in my body is on fire with the intensity of his touch. It's as if he's breathing life back into me with each caress of his lips, each touch igniting a fire that burns brighter than the sun.

“Maybe don’t almost die to act upon mutual feelings.” Jace is mumbling against my lips, earning a weak smack from me.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” He retorts, kissing me softly once again.

“Later I will.”

The Shadowhunters Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

#Jace herondale #jace herondale #Jace herondale x reader #Jace herondale x you #Jace herondale x y/n #Jace herondale fluff #Jace herondale angst #Jace herondale smut #dominic sherwood #the mortal instruments #the mortal instruments one shots #Jace herondale one shots #Jace wayland #Jace wayland x reader #shadowhunters #shadowhunters x reader #shadowhunters preferences #5+1 fic

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tojisbbg · 1 year

Text

𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙

❝and i am the idiot with the painted face, in the corner, taking up space.❞

♡ izana kurokawa ♡

pt. 1

a/n: i love putting mikey and izana stans through pain lolz.

content: royal! au, prince izana x princess y/n (reader), arranged marriage, shitty/toxic parenting, angst, cheating, izana’s a jerk, swearing/cursing, maybe smut (?), strangers to enemies to lovers, not checked for grammatical errors.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

nothing ever lasts forever.

you looked at the roses that were becoming shriveled up, slowly withering. the cold, unforgiving winter was soon to come. the grassy fields filled with flowers and little creatures of mother nature would be embraced by cold arms, blanketed with snow.

you bitterly grimaced at how this pathetic flower was used as a symbol of love. ironically, it fits.

love?

no such thing truly exists, and even if it does, it’s either fake or bound to die in the future.

you leaned down, picking up one of the sorrowful roses from the royal garden, looking at it with pity. while plucking off the petals, you accidentally pricked your finger from one of the thorns on the stem.

you were startled from the short-lived pain, looking at your index finger as you saw the small droplet of the crimson red liquid.

“you truly are evil.” you whispered, throwing the stupid flower on the ground just like any other worthless piece of trash.

“princess! what are you doing out here in such weather?! you’ll catch a cold!” one of the maids rushed in, concern and fear written all over her face.

“could i never get a second of peace and quiet? what is it that you need?” you harshly spat out, knowing that these stupid women didn’t care for your actual well-being.

they were ordered to for the sake of their pockets being filled.

of course, the world had to revolve around money and green of us filthy human beings.

“the king and queen has requested for you.” she spoke with a low voice, eyes not meeting your glaring ones.

“tell them to fuck off.” you bluntly replied, getting up to walk towards the orchid tree that was located way far back towards the end of the garden. suddenly, you felt the maid drop on her knees, holding one of your legs.

“what the fuck, get off of me!” you tried to wiggle her off, but she shook her head in refusal.

“please, princess! your father has already threatened all of us to have our heads chopped off because of not having you follow your daily routine. you must come or else our lives are at stake!” she sobbed, making you look down at them with a disgusted expression.

“you sick morons.” you grumbled under your breath, agreeing to head inside which made her thank you as if you were god himself granting her a blessing.

the maid escorted you to your parent’s room, afraid that you might not stay true to your words. regardless, you decided to have it her way to save her sanity. after reaching the door of your parent’s room, the maid knocked on the door before entering.

“the princess is here, your highness.” she informed before taking her leave which was your cue to enter. you closed the door behind you, seeing the both of them sitting on the edge of their bed, looking at you with a small smile.

“why did you call me?” you asked, cutting straight to the chase. you knew that your parents were filled with bullshit, all they cared about is being the most powerful kingdom to ever exist.

power, money, fame.

they wanted it all and it made you sick to your stomach. your morals and view on topics that were flaming hot to them largely differed. you just wanted to live a simple life, and it’s not that you’re an ungrateful brat.

you just have the world’s shittiest parents.

“is that how you were taught to speak to people, y/n?” you father snapped back at you, clearly displeased by your response.

“i don’t even speak to anyone in general, so who cares?” you commented with a shrug, making your mother sigh in disappointment.

“well, you will eventually one day in the future. you’ll inherit the throne, have a husband and lead your joined kingdoms until you pass it down to your kids.” she explained to you with a soft tone, nearly making you gag.

“me? marriage? as if.” you laughed, but your parents only looked at you with a serious expression. your voiced died down, now looking at them with nothing but shock and disbelief.

“why are you both quiet? tell me it’s a joke, what’s wrong with you?” you angrily scoweled, but they remained quiet.

“y/n, you’re no longer our little girl anymore. you’re a young woman now, who’s ready to fulfill her duties as the future queen and as someone’s wife.” your father tried to caress your cheek in a loving manner, but you swatted his hand away, on the brink of tears.

“how dare you! does my voice or opinion not have any worth to you guys? how can you decide such a big thing for me without even thinking about if i want it or not!” you raged, wanting to dig yourself a small grave right on the spot you were standing in.

“you don’t have a say, y/n! what don’t you understand?! you must get married, it’s an order by our law and nature. you’re a princess for god’s sake!” your mother scolded you, getting fed up from such childish behavior from you.

“then fuck being a princess, i’ll run away.” you threatened, your tears streaming down your face as your heart ached.

“you know that’ll never work, so stop being immature and try to accept things as how it is.” your father snickered, making you wanna rip your hair out.

“then i’ll end my life.” it was a rather rash thing to say, but it caught the attention of your parents, especially your father. he clutched onto his chest, breathing heavily, which alarmed your mother. she quickly rushed to his side, laying him down on the mattress while you watched with a blank expression.

“how dramatic. he should’ve signed up to become a theater entertainer than be a king.” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“y/n! that’s enough.” your mother said through gritted teeth, fanning your father who coughed like a man that’s been smoking thirty cigars a day.

“if you both are done wasting my time, may i leave?” you yawned, getting bored of the same kind of shit that you had to go through nearly every day.

she didn’t bother looking up at you, ignoring your words as a way to indicate that she didn’t care.

“could’ve just said yes, y’know.” with that being said, you turned your heels and walked out, making sure to slam the door extra hard to piss them off even more.

you giggled after hearing the noise echoing through the empty halls, knowing for sure that your parents are probably talking shit about you right now. you hummed a small tune as you walked to your room.

“they’re crazy to think that i would actually agree to this shit.” you talked to yourself as you began to strip out of your gown, throwing it on your bed before walking inside your bathroom.

you shoved a finger inside the tub, checking if the temperature was right. you grinned in content, feeling the warmth of the water as you eagerly stepped in, lowering yourself slowly.

you couldn’t help but feel sorry for yourself. there are thousands of people out there who wished to be in your spot right now, living the life as a princess.

but, they only see your life from a small glass window, not being able to peak further deep inside.

they think that just because you bathe in luxury every day, your life is perfect. what they don’t see is how trapped you feel, how your parents are so controlling over your life, almost as if you were their very own puppet.

why?

you were hidden away from your whole life, envying the lives of commoners. you were homeschooled while everyone else went to public schools. you had no friends nor were you allowed to explore the village because it makes you appear improper. you have to wear bigass, itchy and uncomfortable gowns every day.

you hated it, absolutely hated it with every fiber in your body. if only all of your problems could be drowned like this, then maybe life wouldn’t have been so bad.

“i don’t care what it takes, i won’t be getting married.” you promised yourself, sinking deeper into the tub until you were completely submerged in the water.

...

“no, no! you can’t do this to me! i’m your fucking daughter, not a puppet. please, don’t do this. i’ll do anything, just don’t give me away.” you pleaded to your mother as you sat on your bed, dressed into the wedding dress that the maids successfully had shoved you inside.

“y/n, my baby, please just listen to me. your father and i love you so mu-”

“bullshit! absolute bullshit, stop lying to me! god, all you both ever do is lie! fuck, i hate you guys so much.” you wept, not caring that you had streaks of mascara running down your face.

“you need to understand that your father isn’t in the best condition to rule the kingdom. his heart problems are getting worse, and i won’t be able to take care of everything all by myself. joining our kingdom with the kurokawa’s would lessen the burden on us.” she tried to reason, taking a napkin to wipe away your ruined makeup as you looked up at her with glossy eyes, seeing not a single hint of care or adoration.

her eyes looked empty and you knew that these people would not hesitate to sell you off like some kind of livestock if they needed some money.

“you guys disgust me. all you care about is your benefits and never about me. you want me to get married? fine, i’ll get fucking married. since you guys along with that fucker that agreed to this shit basically ruined my life, i’ll make sure to return the favor.” you smirked, getting up as you grabbed the smashed bouquet of flowers.

“y/n-”

“don’t wanna hear it.” you cut her off, walking off to head downstairs where the chapel was. you saw your father waiting down by the stairs for you, looking at you with a horrified face.

“y/n? your makeup is-”

“does it look like i care? are you gonna walk me down the aisle or should i go by myself?” you impatiently said, making your father’s jaw drop from the sudden change of attitude. you avoided eye contact with him, not being able to bear the sight of how your father looked pleased with the change of heart you had, completely overlooking the fact of how your eyes screamed in despair.

“of course not, dear. come on.” he heartily chuckled, linking your arms together before leading you inside the chapel. your body burned with hatred, every step that you took felt like your legs were chained with weights.

“you could hate me all you want, y/n, but one day you’ll realize that everything that i have done for you is for the best.” your father said, his words completely flying over your head as you knew that it would be no use of saying anything to him.

it’s too late anyways.

the doors opened, a blinding ray of light hitting you as you could picture the chapel looking as beautiful as ever, knowing that your mother hired the best in town to decorate everything. however, you kept your eyes on the ground, being led up the few step as your father finally let go of your arm.

the priest began to read the wedding vows and midway there was a pause to allow the exchange of rings to occur.

your soon-to-be husband extended his hand, waiting for you to place yours on his palm. his skin was tan, long slender fingers with a few veins being painted on the surface of his hand as well. with a heavy heart, you lightly placed your hand on his, making sure to have minimal skin-to-skin contact with him.

“izana?” the priest called out, and for the first time, you’ve heard what your husband’s name was.

“yes?” he answered, his voice deep and smooth like honey.

“do you take y/n as your wife, promising to stay by her side through better or worse, sickness and in health, till death pulls you both apart?” the familiar lines were recited, making your vision become a blur with tears.

those vows, these same sacred words to prove one’s faith and love to each other, it wasn’t meant for you or this izana guy. you had the right to wait for your knight and shining armor, your romeo and your prince charming.

“i do.” izana said firmly, his voice not shaking at all as he was ready to seal the deal.

“y/n?” the sudden intrusion of the voice startled you as you were deeply indulged in your train of thoughts.

“what?” you blurted out without any thought, hearing gasps around the room as you swore at yourself before muttering a quick apology to the priest.

“that’s quite alright, dear. do you take izana as your husband, promising to stay by his side through better or worse, sickness and in health, till death pulls you both apart?” the same lines almost seemed taunting you know, as if it was mocking your situation. you were thankful that the veil was covering your face, as your face was now covered with streaks of your dried tears.

it was never supposed to be this way.

you shouldn’t be up here getting married to some stranger whom you’ve never met before. as the crowd began to silently gossip among themselves, you felt like your knees would give up any minute from how anxious you felt.

you had two choices.

you still had the chance to run away, maybe even go abroad to another village far away from here and keep your identity hidden until you could get on a ship to go overseas.

you don’t take izana kurokawa as your loving husband whom you swear to spend the rest of your life with through sickness and in health.

you’re no princess, and you’re most certainly not qualified to be a queen who should rule such a vast kingdom. to all those stuck up people that are like loyal dogs under royal laws, you’re their puppet that’s being trained to become a loyal dog just like them.

but you weren’t one of them nor did you wish to become like them. you’re not a dog who’ll abide by the rules, trained to serve their husband and a piece of land.

no, absolutely not.

you were a caged bird who wished to be free. you read many books that were stored in the castle’s library. there are about 18,000 species of birds out there, roaming freely to their heart’s desire.

beautiful and colorful wings that allow them to explore different place in the earth. you wished to be like them, you too want to spread your wings and take a leap of faith in life. you want to go to the amazon forest, see the creation of mother nature.

and you knew well enough that in order to do that, you must take a risk. it was a 50/50, but at this point, who cares about the odds?

“i do.”

...

the wedding was over and you were now headed towards the kurokawa kingdom, which wasn’t too far off from your own. it was a two hour car ride, you thought you would be able to rest in the comforts of your own room for the night.

to your dismay, your parents had other plans.

they had the maids pack up your things and have it waiting for you already at your new “home”. to you it seemed like your parents were only counting how much time was left till you would finally depart from them.

assholes.

it was an awful wedding.

all the dishes that were served were shit that you were forced to eat as a child. it’s true that you were a picky eater but you weren’t always like this. the castle’s diet consisted of eating only clean foods to prevent health concerns like obesity or heart problems since they both ran in the family.

to which you weren’t against at first.

but you could vividly remember how when you went down to the village and stopped by a small udon shop to try their delicious meat udon special, your mother soon arrived and ripped you away from the shop before threatening to have you skip dinner.

she would give the same lecture about how men like women who have a nice figure, long lucious hair along with a shy and soft demeanor.

to which you would simply just walk off while she kept on going off, pretty much talking to herself since you didn’t even bother to listen to her bullshit.

the guests were snobby, from both sides of the family. while izana was busying himself on entertaining those fools with a charming smile and soft eyes, you gave everyone who tried to approach you a death stare.

izana kurokawa.

after you both exchanged your vows, it was time to show the god awful crowd the love and devotion you both have towards each other.

a kiss.

you were going to kiss izana kurokawa, who was now your husband. you were going to kiss a man whom you’ve never seen or heard of before until an hour ago.

gentle hands lifted your veil as you slowly looked up, eyes meeting for the first time. it felt like time had stopped, you couldn’t stop staring at him.

he was gorgeous.

the title of a prince was meant for izana kurokawa. he was responsible, kind and caring. snowy white hair that was parted, mesmerizing amethyst eyes with soft white lashes, honey glazed skin and a small smile on his lips.

izana bent down, his face hovering above yours as you could feel his warm breath fanning over your flesh. you closed your eyes, waiting his lips to meet yours.

however, no such thing ever happened.

his lips weren’t touching yours, barely brushing against them to say the least. yet, the guests roared with cheers and you soon came to realization. you opened your eyes, only to see those same lips curl into a smirk as he lazily eyed down at you.

izana kurokawa was not your husband because he too didn’t want to fulfill that role in your life.

you were not his wife nor would you ever be.

“we’re here, sir.” the drive came to a stop as the driver announced the arrival to the destination, pulling up to the castle doors. izana hummed in acknowledgment, as one of the guards opened the door for him. without a word, he left with the slam of the door, leaving you alone in the car.

“what a fucking jerk.” you grumbled to yourself, hearing the driver faintly chuckle as you shot him a glare from the backseat, knowing that he’d see it on the car’s rear mirror.

“the hell are you laughing at, huh?” you boldly spoke up, making him look back with a small smile.

“princess, do not be so naive. our prince is not like those whom you’ve read about in tales like cinderella or sleeping beauty. it’s not my place to talk ill about our soon to be king, but you’ll find out soon enough, so don’t be deceived.” he warned, making you harshly gulp.

the driver was nice enough to pull the door open for you, offering a rough hand to help your get out of the car since your dress seemed like it weighed over a thousand pounds.

the kurokawa kingdom was north from your own kingdom, but you never thought that it would make this much of a difference in weather. your wedding dress was sleeveless, making the cold breeze hit your skin as you shivered.

you noticed how the castle was built on a hill, the grass was barely alive, most likely due to the cold weather. it was a mountainous area after all.

“shall we?” one of the butler interrupted your thoughts, waiting with the door opened as you nodded.

you entered the castle doors, seeing how the interiors were nothing like your boring castle design. it was purple and gold, art works of famous artists hung up on the wall of angelic beings, and the halls smelled faintly of lavender.

“shall i take you to your room, prince-”

“that won’t be necessary, we have to talk about a few things. don’t worry, i’ll take it from here.” izana cut him off, walking down the grand stairs.

“of course, sir.” the butler bowed his head before leaving.

“we have nothing to talk about. it’s nearly midnight and i’m tired, i want to go to bed.” you groaned, trailing behind him as you were now in the living room.

“there’s some rules that you must follow now that you live with me.” he informed, sitting down as he crossed one leg over the other.

“how lovely, i came from one prison to another. life truly loves me, huh?” you bitterly chuckled, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at him.

“how pitiful.” faux sympathy was painted all over his features, making your blood boil.

“hey bitchface, who do take me as? you think that just because we’re married now, you could do whatever you want with me as you wish? please, don’t make me laugh.” you giggled, getting up as you walked over to him. izana’s face remained unfazed with his previous smug look.

you bent down to come at eye level with his sitting stature.

“i never listened to my own parents rules, so, the fuck made you think that i’d listen to yours?” you taunted, cocking an eyebrow as he maintained eye contact with you.

“unlike your parents, i could have you out of this castle with the snap of a finger. i’m not as sympathetic nor do i give a single shit about you like your parents. you are their child whom they tolerated, but to me, you’re nothing but a nobody. so, mind your tone when speaking to me.” izana strictly said, giving you a sarcastic smile as he was able to see that he made his point across.

you sighed as you walked back to the sofa, plopping down while you waited for him to open his shitty mouth once again to tell you about his so-called rules.

“your room is located on the east wing of the castle and my room is in the west wing, so there shouldn’t be a reason why i should ever see yo-”

“first of all, how fucking self-centered are you to even think that i’d go to your room? you think i’m some kind of bimbo who’ll be all dolled up on your bed or clean up after your ass? i’d rather die than go to you.” you angrily spat out, in complete disbelief that this jackass had the audacity to even think of you like that.

“well that’s a relief, it’s good that you aren’t stupid. the problem is, your manners are so shit.” he scoffed, looking at you like you’re some kind of alien.

“weren’t you taught to never cut people off mid sentence? especially, to your husband.” izana mocked, tilting his head to the side as he knew he was slowly pushing all of your buttons.

“you want me to ruin the price worthy face of your so bad, huh?” you kissed your teeth in annoyance.

“anyways, you should almost never come to my room unless absolutely necessary. we have many maids and butlers, so feel free to ask them about any concerns. second, i really don’t give a shit.” he blurted out, making you choke on your spit.

“what?” you gasped.

“you don’t understand basic english? i said, i don’t give a shit. you’re free to do whatever you please with yourself, you could go wherever you want with whomever you want. your life doesn’t concern me nor should mine concern you. we didn’t marry each other out of love, nor do we consider each other as husband and wife. just don’t make things too obvious. deal?” he stuck out a hand, looking at you with anticipation.

“you got yourself a deal, prince jackass.” you stood up and began to make your way to your room.

all you wanted to do was just sleep everything away. you wanted to drift inside a good dream where there was no mom or dad, no izana, no royal duties and no sadness.

just you and only you.

...

you rolled around in bed, not wanting to open your eyes and have the bright sunlight hit your sight and blind you. but, soon enough, someone barged into your room and it nearly sent you into a coma.

you eyes went wide as you sat up, startled when you saw a few of the maids coming in. you grumbled under your breath, looking at them with a pissed facial expression.

“god, don’t you people know how to knock?” you scolded, making them apologize as you let out a sigh.

“it’s past lunchtime, your highness.” one of them informed you, making you look at them like they had three heads.

“what?!” you screamed, sitting up as your hair was a tangled mess. you were still in your wedding dress, too tired the night before to even have the energy to take it off.

“your bath is ready and breakfast has been served as well. lord kurokawa has gone out for royal duties if you were wondering.” the butler from yesterday butted in, making you scoff.

lord kurokawa? what an arrogant asshole.

“yeah to hell with him, i don’t care where he is.” you yawned, getting up as you shooed everyone out of your room. you hated noise, especially during mornings.

mornings were meant to be peaceful and silent, relaxing and slow. they were only meant for you and only you. you stripped out of the poofy gown before detangling your hair and removing the remaining makeup smudged on your face.

when you stepped inside the bathroom, a gasp of nothing but pure amazement and shock left your lips. it was a gorgeous bathroom, everything covered in marbel and polished. the bathtub looked like a swimming pool, making you quickly rush over to fill it up with hot water.

as you sunk your naked body in the water, a blissful sigh left your lips as your eyes rolled back.

this really hits the spot.

you leaned back, closing your eyes as you began to fall into deep thought. you wondered, how would you spend the rest of your days in this castle? a part of you wished that izana was a little more friendlier, then perhaps you could’ve had a platonic relationship of enjoying life.

well, that wasn’t that case, and maybe you liked it that way.

you finished your royal bath and the rest of the consisted of you lounging in the castle. you had to admit that izana’s criteria and choice of the cooks had to be one of the finest, as both breakfast and lunch almost made you ascend to heaven.

living away from your parents did rise some perks, and to make things even better, izana wasn’t around majority of the times. you were free to dress however you wished, no need for fancy dresses that squished your ribcages and made it hard to breathe.

for once in your life, you were sitting in the living room with a huge bucket of ice cream in your lap while wearing a pair of shorts and tank-top.

and no one could tell you shit about it.

you heard the front door open, indicating that someone has arrived home. one of the maid’s rushed to your side as you shoved a huge mouthful of the sweet dairy treat in your mouth.

“your highness, lord kurokawa has arrived.” she notified, making you lazily hum at her as you were more concerned about the plot of the drama you’re watching.

“cool.” you shrugged before shooing her away, not caring that your fake husband came back from his royal duties.

“is dinner ready?” the deep familiar voice questioned the butler who was removing his very expensive winter coat.

“yes, sir. allow me to help you freshen up.” the butler offered, making izana hum in agreement.

“god, do you wipe his ass after he takes a shit too?” you snickered, making the butler gasp as he looked at you with wide eyes. however, izana remained unfazed before turning to you with a small smirk.

“oh, that’s not his job but my wife’s. however, it seems like she’s too busy being a pig.” he fired back, making you shoot him a hateful glare.

“annoying piece of shit.” you mumbled under your breath before averting your focus back onto the huge tv screen. izana left to freshen up before sitting in the dining space, eating by himself.

you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him, knowing that he lived inside this castle by himself all his life and did pretty much everything alone. you didn’t know much about the kurokawa family, but you knew that izana was the last person in the bloodline to exist because his family was brutally murdered years ago in a war that nearly killed your father.

your thoughts would soon be gone as you saw the man right in front of you, arms crossed over his chest.

“go to bed, every electrical device that makes noise in this castle must be turned off. i have very sharp ears, so even the slightest sound will awaken me.” izana ordered, making you scoff.

“well, i’m so sorry sleeping beauty, but that seems like a you problem. shove some cotton balls in your ears and go to sleep.” you replied, seeing his jaw lock in annoyance, making you internally high-five yourself.

“you’re infuriating.” he grumbled, turning his heels before heading upstairs to his room. you laughed to yourself in satisfaction, throwing a few more popcorns in your mouth as you continued to watch your show.

---

you groaned in pain, rolling over until you fell to the ground with a yelp. you winced in pain as you rubbed your ass.

“fucking hell.” you cursed, not realizing when you fell asleep on the sofa. you heard a chuckle coming from behind you, opening your sleepy eyes to see the white haired fool sipping his tea while laughing.

“i knew that was gonna happen, you stupid little girl.” izana shook his head in disbelief, continuing to fill out some paperwork. you stood up and marched your way towards him, glaring down at him.

“you absolute jackass. this is why no woman would ever fall in love with you, stupid piece of shit.” you threw insult after insult at him, yet he seemed unfazed by your comments.

“what a rough way to start your morning. you should go brush your teeth to get that bad breath and language out of your mouth.” he smirked, making you gasp in embarrassment as you covered your mouth, forgetting that morning breath exists.

“i hope you choke on your tea and die.” you said in a muffled voice, rushing up to your room to freshen up so that you could give him a proper piece of your mind. but, to your dismay, by the time you came downstairs he was already gone.

“coward.” you mumbled to yourself, settling down at your seat as the maids served you breakfast. you decided that you’ll have an outing to yourself today at the village, wanting to experience an adventure you never got the chance to fulfill.

“excuse me, would you please drop me off by the village today after breakfast?” you asked izana’s butler, to which he gave you a polite smile.

“it would be my pleasure.” he replied, making you contented with the answer as you finished your meal.

you decided to dress in common clothing, a simple white dress that fell below your knees; decorated with strawberries.

“you look lovely, my lady.” the butler complimented, and you thanked him, excited to try new things out.

after reaching the village, you bid the butler goodbye as he promised to pick you up before sunset.

your first stop was the flower shop, eyes glimmering at the colorful plants. there was roses, dhalias, petunias, marigolds and so much more!

“hello miss, how may i help you today?” the lady spoke, startling you a little.

“your flowers are gorgeous! may i take a smell?” you asked, the lady giving you a warm smile before nodding.

you went ahead and took a sniff of every one of them, sighing in bliss at the sweet scent of each of them. nature’s creation was truly heavenly and it made you wish if you could just run away to the woods and live in a cottage; away from the evil that resided in society.

your eyes fell on the lilacs, sitting ever so prettily in the bouquet. you couldn’t help but think of how the color struck you and made you think of your evil husband.

“would you like to buy any of them?” the lady asked and you nodded you head.

“i’ll take those lilacs, please.” you said with a small smile, convincing yourself that it was because these pretty purple flowers would look great in the vase on top of the dining table.

your next stop was to try all the food stalls, looking at your pocket watch and noticing how it was nearly lunch time. you decided to indulge yourself, ordering a bowl of seafood udon for yourself and a side of braised duck meat.

your parents would’ve killed you if they saw you eating like this.

but right now, food is life.

you ate to your heart’s happiness, closing your eyes as you could feel tears of joy forming at the corner of your eyes. you’ve never tasted food this delicious before and it made you appreciate yourself for keeping your will to live still strong.

you slurped the noodles like no tomorrow, gulping down the broth right after. you lipstick was gone, the corners of your mouth messy with the broth as you sniffled from the heat of the food. you quickly cleaned yourself up, not wanting to look like a pig in front of other although you did eat like one just now.

you properly disposed the items and continued your little journey.

suddenly, a weeping little toddler clung onto your legs. you bent down, trying to level your eyes with her glossy ones.

“mama?” she cried, making your heart shatter.

“did you lose her, honey?” you spoke with a soft voice, seeing the little girl nod her head. you embraced the tiny human, carrying her as you tried to calm her down.

“let’s go find your mama then.” you smiled, patting her back as you began to walk around with the little girl in your arms.

“ice cream!” you heard her squeal, amking you hum as your eyes followed the direction she pointed in.

“oh, you want one?” you asked, to which she eagerly nodded, making you chuckle as you walked towards the small shop. you got the little girl a strawberry cone while you got mango.

“so yummy.” she giggled, making your heart swell from her cuteness. you were walking towards the small flower garden, wanting to take a little break and finish your ice cream.

until you noticed a familiar figure sitting on the bench with another person. you got a closer look and indeed it was izana.

with another woman.

you saw him holding her hand while laughing, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she giggled. they both were sharing a slice of cake and you saw the way his eyes sparkled every time she breathed.

was he always this sweet? how he tenderly caressed her skin like she was porcelain.

a foreign emotion of jealousy brewed inside you, a sudden wave of rage filled your insides. it was then that izana’s eyes fell on you, his smile dropping as he saw you with the child in your arms.

“y/n?” he called out your name, and it sent chills down your spine as it felt so new to hear him call you without any insult.

“izana.” you said his name back, making him swallow harshly.

“do you both know each other?” the woman next to him asked, she looked and smelled like a princess, when you looked like a commoner. izana’s eyes begged you to make up some lie, to which you gave him a sly grin.

“why of course we do, right izana?” you taunted, making the silver haired male grow nervous.

“honey, i can explain.” izana turned to the woman, but she looked suspicious.

“there’s nothing to explain. we’re cousins, that’s all. stop making everything so weird all the time.” you giggled, making your very much husband sigh in relief, not wanting his mistress to find about his little secret marriage.

“ohh, nice to meet you. is that your daughter?” his mistress asked, and you contemplated on being truthful, but you wanted to spite izana more.

“yup, this is my little princess. isn’t she the cutest?” you kissed the little girl’s head, making the woman squeal. izana’s eyes widened, not expecting you to lie like this.

“she sure is! wow, you’re so young to be a mom though.” she commented, making fake sad eyes.

“yeah, well, my husband loves me enough to give me such a precious gift. anyways, i should head back now. it was, uh, great meeting you.” you gave her a fake smile before throwing a side glare at izana. the expression on his face is one you couldn’t decipher, but you decided to not pick on it.

you walked a good distance away from the horrid couple, until you felt the little girl squirm in your hold.

“mama! mama!” she urged and you placed her on the ground, watching her run to the figure in the distance.

“oh, my baby!” you heard the lady cry, picking up her daughter a kissing her lovingly.

“thank you so much for keeping her safe, miss.” she noticed your presence, giving you a grateful smile.

“no worries.” you nodded your head, ruffling the little girl’s hair before bidding them goodbye.

---

you reached home, your mood not as uplifting as you had planned. you kicked your sandals off, walking towards the dining table as you placed the lilacs down. one of the maids rushed in, excited to see the bright and beautiful purple flower.

“are these for lord kurokawa?” she asked, making you scoff. the thought of izana made your blood boil, especially after the shitshow that took place earlier.

“no, you may dispose those in the garbage. i don’t want to see a single petal on my sight.” you strictly ordered, grabbing your purse to make your way up to your room. there you bumped into izana, who seemed like he’s been standing there the entire time.

“move, fuckface.” you grumbled, shoving him to the side as you stormed upstairs. you felt him grab your wrist, turning your head to meet his lilac ones.

“the hell is wrong with you? why are you acting like i’m diseased?” his eyebrows furrowed, making you roll your eyes.

“say what you have to say because i want to rest.” you ignored his question, making him let out an irritated sigh.

“since you already know about mai, i don’t think i need to explain myself further-”

“oh, don’t worry. i think i have enough brain cells to piece together that the almighty lord kurokawa has a side bitch.” you snickered, making him glare at you.

“watch your mouth.” he scoweled, making you grin.

“make me.” you challenged, watching him ball his fists as your words made his skin crawl.

“you know what, i don’t even know why i thought i could have a simple conversation with you without wanting to murder you. your parents invited us for dinner this weekend, so act accordingly.” izana informed you before leaving, heading back downstairs.

“got it! i’ll make sure that they don’t find out about your secret fuck buddy lover that you’re two-timing with, lord kurokawa.” you said in a mocking voice, knowing how much he probably wanted to kill himself right now because you wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.

you didn’t know why the situation with izana and his mistress got you so riled up.

you knew that he’s not in love with you nor are you in love with him.

yet, the idea of him with another woman made you furious.

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namis-gf · 4 months

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HELLO NAMIS GIRLFRIEND 🫡🫡💥💥💥💥💥 would love to request some general mihawk x reader hcs !!!!!!! gn or masc reader if you please ^_^ love him and his bigass unblinking eyes . thanks in advance !!!! 🧡🧡🧡🧡

hi hello anon!! this was rlly fun to work with, i think mihawk and a silly little creature is truly the dynamic ever.

summary: meet-cute turned meet-ugly on kuraigana island. collective hc thing about awkward!mihawk and a gn!reader who doesn’t know when to shut up to save their life.

word count: 580 words // 0.5k

cw: none!

with roronoa zoro returned to his captain, and perona’s soul floating far from her body as usual — dracule mihawk is perhaps a little lonely. while it's something he wouldn't admit, or truly let bother him in any way. but it is strange, the lack of noise and clatter around the castle. at first, he takes the opportunity to relax. read more books, lounge around, train every once and a while.

the routine is boring. he feels as though he may crawl right out of his skin. however, one morning, he discovers a surprise. on the way back to his makeshift training grounds, after feeding the many monkeys with swords, obviously — he finds an intruder.

and, well, maybe that isn't exactly the right word. you're young, have an androgynous air about yourself, and are currently hanging from one of the bear traps perona set up on a whim. he has to stifle a laugh, albeit small, since he'd warned her that roronoa would most likely fall victim.

but it isn't his ward, back from travelling already. he cuts you down from the tree, and offers a gloved hand. you get to your feet with a grin, looking him up and down.

"ha! i didn't actually think i'd find you here," you laugh, bending forward a little to catch your breath.

he only stares back, blinks once, and then twice.

"i just mean- uh, there are a lot of rumours, you know! when i was travelling around the neighbouring islands, they told me this place was haunted."

mihawk sighs. tourism, one of the most dreadful crimes of all. maybe even worse than piracy, or men with red hair who don't know when to stop talking. you remind him of one in particular, which doesn't help his already souring mood.

"i am not surprised," he says, tone measured, "many fear the unfamiliar. kuraigana is home to no phantoms, or vampires for that matter."

you can't help the smile that spreads unwillingly across your face. the barkeep at the last inn you'd slept in had indeed spoken of a vampire lord. "heard that one through the grapevine, huh?"

that stare is back on you again, and the moniker 'hawkeye' is starting to make way too much sense. "i beg your pardon?"

"don't worry about it," you snort, waving a hand in dismissal. "but i do have a favour to ask, you mind if i stay over for a bit?"

"..."

"listen, i have a good reason, okay?" you plead.

"and that is?"

"well, i may have taken something kind of important. from someone important. by accident, obviously, i'm totally not a pirate. i don't believe in piracy at all," you explain, gesturing to the ocean far behind you both. "and honestly, the guy seemed pretty mad, so i kinda just uh-"

"i get the feeling that if i let you continue on like this, we'll be here all day," mihawk says, before turning abruptly and heading back toward his original destination.

you run after him on a whim, expecting either rejection entirely or the cool steel of the sword he has strapped across his back. "hey, hey, wait up! i thought we were getting to know each other!"

"no time for that now," he replies, doesn't even turn to check you're following. "if what you say is true, i suppose leaving a poor mouse out to be eaten alive is unbecoming of a warlord."

"whatever you say, mr captain warlord sir."

"..."

"sorry, sorry! oi, watch it-"

FIN

happily ever after. he only kills u a little bit

#one piece #one piece x reader #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #requests #requests open #gn!reader #mihawk x gn!reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Drawn Together 17

Warnings: non/dubcon, obsession, intimidation, spanking, and other dark elements.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The night sees you in much the same trap as the one before. You’ve appeased Steve. For now. You know deep down, it won’t last. That it won’t be enough. Not in the end.

You sleep in the white satin he chose. He embraces you from behind, his hand cradles your chest as his breath whispers across your scalp. You’re suffocated by his warmth. You don’t move, the only time you’re truly alone is when he’s asleep.

You close your eyes to keep the tear from slipping past. You wiggle your nose as it tingles. The night breeze rustles the tree outside the window and carries the chirps of lively crickets. The song of the night is in disorder just as those that play in your head.

“Middle C,” the order comes and you set your hands just so. “Very good.” Professor Zemo praises as he flicks the metronome into a steady beat, “Begin.”

You hear the melody before your fingers pluck it out. It’s that magical sensation that overtakes you. The way your body moves naturally to create the music. As if it’s a part of you. You smile as you read the music, following along as the world pinpoints to the keys and nothing else.

“Posture,” Zemo squeezes your shoulder.

You fix your position and keep on, not missing a note. His hum underlines your symphony as you proudly play. He stays close by the bench, hand lingering on your sleeve, rubbing the fluttery fabric between his fingertips. You follow the highs and lows until you reach the end, hitting that final key with a flourish.

“You are improving,” he moves to stand behind you, close so that you feel the heat of him radiating around you. His other hand rests upon your second shoulder. “My dear, I must confess you are talented, if not the most talented student I’ve ever taught,” he bends and your skin pricks. What is he doing?

He presses his lips to your crown, “when you play,” he speaks into your hair, “you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

His hands wander down your blouse and he hooks beneath your arms. Your hands tamp down on the keys in surprise, a clatter of ugly notes all at once. He cups your chest through the layers of frills. You don’t know what to do so you do nothing. What can you do? He is your professor.

He pinches a button between his fingers and slowly undoes it, then another, and another. You shiver as he opens the front of your blouse. He stands straight to guide your sleeves down your arms. He steps closer and something hard presses to your back. You put your chin down as your lip trembles.

Coward.

You squeak as your eyes snap open. There is no relief to be found in waking. It’s not a dream but a memory. You feel a squeeze on your chest and your heart leaps into your throat. That speckling flame razes up your neck and across your cheeks. A furor you cannot bear.

You tear Steve’s arm away and push yourself out of the bed. You fall onto the floor, crawling away desperately as panic thrums against your ribs. Your arms shake and you fight not to collapse into a heap.

“Sweetheart,” Steve groans, his deep tones laced with fatigue and confusion. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you stop and turn over, sitting on your bottom, “I just have to pee.”

You don’t move though. You can’t. You sit against the footboard and smother your mouth to keep your shallow breaths quiet.

“Hurry back…” his voice drifts off to a snore.

You shake your head as your eyes sting. You haven’t cried about this in years, so why now? Why do the ghosts have to come back and haunt you?

🌹

A rush of cool air flows over you as the blankets are torn away. Your shallow sleep cracks as you mutter cluelessly and fall onto your back. You squeak as you find Steve staring down at you, a hand planted on the mattress as he leans on one arm. You squeeze your legs together and cross your arms.

He caresses your shoulder, toying with the nightgown’s strap, twisting it as his fingertips brush your skin. Little specks of heat linger as he follows the lacy trim along your chest. You hold in a breath quivering at the intensity of his gaze as it trails his touch.

He pulls your arm away from your chest and the other slips down limply to your side. You’re paralysed. You’re too afraid to resist him as you watch his eyes. They are dark and distant as if possessed.

“You’re so sweet,” he tugs down the soft satin cup. You whimper as he bares half your chest. He cups your tit, fondling you as he groans. His thumb rolls around your nipple and you shiver. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’ve been good.”

He gropes you as he purrs and slides down the bed. He stretches his arm up and lifts himself to his knees. He forces your legs apart and settles between them. His other hand traces along your thigh as he lets out a deep breath.

He kneads your chest as he slowly bends. You’re terrified as his hand crawls beneath the hem of your nightie and inches it up. He spreads out on his stomach, keeping his arm snaked up your torso as he pulls your leg over his shoulder. He bows his head to nuzzle the front of your panties and you twitch.

He hums and squeezes your chest again. A warning. You grab onto his thick arm as he inhales you and presses his nose against the cotton. The vivid ink that stains his skin contrasts with your own. You grip him tighter as he hums, sending a ripple through you.

Your breath hitches as he wiggles his head against you. A damp heat permeates the front of your panties and he tickles you through the fabric with his tongue. His saliva soaks through as he pushes the cotton against your folds, suckling through the layer hungrily.

He traces his fingers down the crease of your leg and drags your panties to the side. His cool tongue meets your hot cunt and you gasp. His nails dig into your skin as he blindly gropes your chest, thumb catching on the slack satin.

You're helpless. Just like before. Too weak to fight. You just let it happen. You wince as the sheets brush against your bruises. What else can you do? He's not hurting you. Yet.

He laps between your folds as your legs quiver. You close your eyes as your grasp drifts down his arm, reaching weakly for his head. You feel completely exposed to him. You want him to stop but the flick of his tongue has you spasming. He swirls around your clit so that a pluck coils in your muscles.

You’re completely disarmed as spreads his tongue wide and tastes you. He slowly drags his tongue up and back down. Your thighs tingle as he seals his lips around your tender bud and the sudden pressure has you writhing. He groans as he uses the tip of his tongue to tease you.

Your back arches as you push your thigh against his head. His beard tickles you, another wave rolling through you. It’s too much and not enough. You want him desperately to stop yet fear that he will.

You moan and sink your head back in the pillow. Your hips rock as he flutters his fingertips along your ass, adding to the storm of sensation. Shame bubbles with something else. Something hotter. Irresistible.

You cry out as you lose control. As you succumb to him. No, he’s conquered you. You surrender in a spasm of delight, mewling between heavy puffs as you clamp your thighs around his head and twist wildly.

He doesn’t stop. He drinks you in desperately as you cum. He keeps on until you can’t. Your legs splay and your arms fall down limply. You lay quaking and whimpering as he sucks and licks at your cunt. He does so noisily rubbing his beard against your sopping cunt until you whine.

“Please,” you squeal as you reach for him, lifting your head dizzily, “please… Steve…” His eyes flick up as he swipes his tongue around your clit, “sir… I can’t… I can’t take…”

You drop your head back down as your hips jerk. Your voice swells out of you, blooming into moans and drones. You feel it again, the tempo building and building, until you can’t stand it. Your nerves scatter again in a violent chorus that has you clawing at the sheets.

He does not relent. Even as you writhe, even as you push on his head and beg. Please, please, please.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #drabble #drabble series #au #tattoo au #drawn together #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers #steve rogers x reader

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peaches2217 · 4 months

Text

I'm slowly but surely easing back into writing now that I'm acclimating to my new job! I can't say for certain when I'll have my next completed piece up, so in the meantime, please have the first page and a half of one of my longer WIPs, because if I don't post something I am going to gnaw my arm off like an understimulated animal. So please accept this gift which I'm presently calling...

Musings on a Motivation (WIP, also still looking for a less cringy title 😅)

~~~

“Did you truly want to marry me? Or did you just want to take Bowser’s victory for your own?”

Peach presented Mario with this question in the Snow Kingdom, huddled across from him in the corner of some Shiverian cafe. Her quiet voice was resolute, yet she couldn’t tear her eyes from the mug of hot chocolate in her hands.

For the first time in two days, Mario felt cold. She had warned him, told him she was going to bring it up again, but he didn’t feel any more prepared in spite of the advance alert.

“There’s no wrong answer,” she assured him, and though her smile was sad, it was equally sincere. “No matter what you tell me, I won’t think any differently of you. I just… I want to know.”

He nodded, though his head felt heavy and disconnected from his shoulders. Right. He supposed he did owe her an answer.

This wasn’t the first time they were discussing the incident on the moon. He knew for a fact it wouldn't be the last, either.

Half an hour after the offending event, Mario had broken the silence of the trip back home with an apology, face flushing redder and redder with shame the more he dwelled on it. His princess, l’amore della sua vita, the one he would travel to the ends of the earth and beyond for, had almost been forced into a marriage with the Koopa King Bowser, the very creature who caused her constant torment.

And what had Mario done after saving her from a marriage she hadn't asked for? Tried cornering her into another one. Proposed to her, a proposal that was quickly challenged by Bowser himself. Gotten into a squabble over her hand with the aforementioned creature like two boys fighting over a plastic toy. All of this minutes after rescuing her.

Peach had tiredly forgiven him, but asked to discuss it further once they were home and rested. Three days later, she reaffirmed her pardon over cake and tea, but held none of her own feelings on the matter back: how childishly he’d painted himself in her eyes, how she felt like nothing more than a trophy, some grand prize that would go to whoever shoved flowers in her face the hardest, how little she worried he valued her affections if he actually thought Bowser, of all people, was competition. The timing was bad, the execution was infinitely worse, and she felt both affronted and humiliated by the last man she ever expected to cause her such distress.

Mario, for his part, was grateful. If she could feel all of those things — if he could cause her to feel all of those things — but she could still forgive him, then perhaps she still trusted him.

But it stung no less to hear, and it certainly didn’t soften the blow when she asked for a break.

“I need a vacation,” she had sighed. “We both… we need space. Some time apart.” Mario had numbly agreed.

In parting, he had taken her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, wishing her safety and happiness on whatever ventures she had planned; she had excused herself quickly, but not quickly enough to hide the first of her tears. That image routinely kept Mario awake into the early hours of the morning.

Glancing at the untouched slice of cake lying before him, he gulped. That had been a month ago. Peach had parted from the kingdom the following afternoon, and after a few lethargic days hiding beneath his blankets, Mario heeded the pleas of his brother and his newest friend and decided a vacation didn’t sound half bad.

Luigi elected to stay home and tend to some sort of balloon-adjacent business, yet even without his twin, Mario found himself mercifully distracted. It began as a week-long expedition to both the major landmarks and best hidden alcoves of Cappy’s home nation. But somewhere between Big Beanie and Bucket-Hat Palace, their sightseeing stint segued into another hunt for Power Moons, fueled this time by adventure and pure entertainment rather than necessity, and Mario came to discover that an international game of hide-and-seek is an excellent way to distract oneself from heartbreak.

So that was what he threw himself into, and the less excitable but every bit as goal-oriented Cappy was more than happy to assist. Yesterday was Day 35 of their adventure, and having spent the previous week roughing it in the choking heat of the Forgotten Isle, they’d agreed easily that a cooler change in scenery would do them both good. They arrived in the Snow Kingdom that morning and planned to spend the day acclimating in the (relative) warmth of Shiveria, then soldier on in their quest with no end goal.

But just barely within the walls of the town, a black beret and a halo of golden hair stopped Mario in his tracks.

Peach’s face was flush from the cold, but her eyes shined brighter and bluer than the carbonated sea of Bubblaine, and she called his name with all the warmth of a stroll along its sunny shores, and how his legs didn’t give out on the spot he wasn’t entirely sure. Suddenly the month that had flown by without her felt like an eternity.

If y’all have any feedback thus far I would appreciate it most sincerely, I wanna make sure it’s at least somewhat coherent so far!!

#having made so many posts about odyssey lately this seemed like a good wip to share!#'peaches isn't this the—' the one I've been working on since LAST FUCKING MAY? yes. yes it is.#BUT! it's FINALLY almost done! I wanna clear the requests in my inbox first before diving back into it #as you can tell it's still a bit rambly so I'd also like to. well. ORGANIZE it #but we're getting there! slowly but surely!#peaches' fancy fics #peaches’ wips

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pappydaddy · 9 months

Text

surprised (n.w.)

a/n: wow, there are not a lot of tags for nancy! also, ngl, i am hoping you lovelies like this one bc i think i could have done a lot better so sorry if it's not the best!

tv show/movie: stranger things | pairing: nancy wheeler x fem!reader

requested by the lovely @echos-scomplink as part of my 900/1k follower celebration (thank you so much lovely!!) i hope you enjoy it💛!

synopsis: y/n's girlfriend and friends have been acting weird, she just can't figure out why

warnings: fluff | secrets being kept | anxiety

navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up

Her friends had been acting odd, which really wasn’t that surprising when she really thought about it since they were oddballs to start out. What really made her step back and be suspicious was her girlfriend starting to act odd. Nancy was usually very straight-forward, blunt, goal-oriented. She stressed the importance of communication in the relationship, was an open-book with her, and never-ever strayed far from her routine unless it involved two things: something very very dangerous and important or anything to do with her job as a journalist.

But, this wasn’t anything to do with her job as that’s usually breaking news coverage where a story breaks and she needs to start a deep dive of investigation (which earned her the name Nancy Drew with their friend group). But, Nancy isn’t running off to the archives, the library, or the office in the early hours of the morning and spending all day there right now so it couldn't be work. And, as far as Y/N knew, there wasn’t any type of Upside Down creature threatening the town right now so it couldn’t be that.

She was truly stumped and it was bugging her. Not because she was insecure in her relationship and thought Nancy was cheating. There would be definite signs of that. But because she didn’t know what was going on and she didn’t like that. Y/N is an incredibly perceptive person, a trait she often cursed especially in times like this where she overthinks everything. Because of her perceptiveness, she needed to know what was going on at all times and if she didn’t, she spiralled.

“Hey, what’s going on up there?” Y/N was pulled out of her thoughts by her friend, Robin. Robin stood in front of her as she sat at the cafe table - their mutually agreed upon meeting point. Y/N blinked, a little stunned by the sudden intrusion.

“Oh, um,” She hummed, gathering her purse as she stood up. “Nothing. Just thinking really.” Y/N shrugged it off. If there was something going on, her girlfriend was going through great lengths to hide it because it took Y/N this long to notice two months worth of odd behaviour. So, obviously, Nancy has either become incredibly lax in her secret keeping, or whatever it was, Nancy was getting ready to reveal it.

“I bet it’s about the new job you’re starting,” Robin theorised about what had her friend so distracted. “You’re nervous, a perfectly normal human reaction to this situation, but of course, it’s you so you’ve probably thought yourself into a tizzy meaning you were in the middle of an overthinking spiral.” She determined, talking a mile a minute as they started to walk towards a random location.

Y/N really wasn’t sure what Robin had planned for today, all she knew was that she had asked her to hang out for the day. Y/N had agreed, knowing that she and Robin were interested in the same things meaning whatever Robin had in mind, Y/N probably liked. “You know me so well,” Y/N shook her head. Technically, Robin did get the overthinking spiral part right. “And I thought Steve was joining us?” She asked, her brows furrowed at their missing friend.

Robin waved her off. “He suddenly had ‘plans’,” She put air quotes around the word ‘plans’ with an exaggerated eye roll. “Something about some party for some girl. You know how he is, any chance at getting a date.”

“I see.” Y/N hummed, narrowing her eyes at her best friend. While Robin might be an oddball, she was an oddball Y/N knew since freshman year. An oddball who knew Robin’s deepest, darkest secrets. An oddball who hid in isolation with her throughout high school in fear that someone would find out that they liked girls. So she knew Robin. Which means, she knows that she knows something she’s not telling her.

“But I am sure you will see him later, he’ll come running back to us with his tail between his legs when they all shoot him down.” Robin shrugged as Y/N followed her lead.

“I see.” Y/N hummed again, earning a look from Robin. The way her blue eyes flicked nervously confirmed it. Robin knew something that she was supposed to keep a secret - one of her biggest inabilities. It was only a matter of time before the secret came spilling from her friend’s chapped lips.

Robin cleared her throat, eyes darting to look in front of them before they widened. “You know what,” She asked suddenly, her hand shoving Y/N towards the building next to them. “I think we should go in here!”

“Robin, this is an event hall-” She was cut off by her friend, shoving her towards it again. “Ugh,” She groaned, stumbling away from Robin’s hands as they reached out to shove her again. “Fine, I am going! I am going!” She relented, walking up the concrete stairs to the hall, eying Robin suspiciously as she brushed past her to lead the way.

As her friend opened the door, she could hear the echoes of Nancy’s voice instructing people to keep quiet and warmth bloomed in her chest. A surprise. It wasn’t a secret per se, but a surprise. “Come, this way.” Robin waved to her to follow her.

Smiling to herself, Y/N decided to play along, not wanting her girlfriend or friends to know the surprise was spoiled. “What are we doing here, Robin? We didn’t book a room out.” She asked, sounding slightly stressed to try to sell the part. Silence filled the hall other than the soft creaks of the floorboards when the hidden friends shifted.

“I just wanna see something in this room-” Robin waved her off, walking into one of the event rooms, flicking on the lights. Once the light turned on, everyone jumped out, yelling “surprise”. Even though she was expecting it, Y/N jumped slightly, looking around the now lit room with all her friends and family there.

Nancy stood right in front of her, a cardboard party hat (that matched everyone else's) on her head and a wide smile on her face. A large banner was hung on the far wall spelling out a hand painted “congratulations” in Y/N’s favourite colour. “Congratulations on your big job! We’re so excited for you!” Nancy beamed, nearly tackling her girlfriend in a hug.

Instantly, Y/N wrapped her arms around her as well, stumbling back from the force of the hug as Robin clapped happily beside them - mostly proud of herself for keeping the secret and pulling off the plan. “You really didn’t have to do all of this, Nancy! This must have taken you months and a load of money!” She gushed, looking around the room in awe, taking in everything. All Y/N’s favourite party foods laid out perfectly, several different drinks (some homemade and some store bought) on another table, each decoration handmade or picked out with the keen eye of her girlfriend.

“Nonsense! This is a big deal, Y/N. You deserve to be fussed over,” Nancy playfully scolded her. Y/N nodded, knowing it appeared playful, but Nancy meant it. She had made it her personal mission when they first started going out to make sure Y/N knew that she deserved the whole world and nothing short of it. She was the reason Y/N even applied for this job - without Nancy she probably would have just passed on the opportunity with a shrug and a muttered “like I’d ever get that job”. “And I made it a surprise party! Were you surprised? You looked it! I actually think I got you this time!”

Y/N smiled sweetly, nodding. “I was definitely not expecting this, I love it.” She confirmed her surprise, pulling Nancy in to her by their conjoined hands, pressing a sweet kiss on her lips, earning another round of celebrating cheers from their friends and family.

“Good,” Nancy smiled at her once they pulled away, eyes alight and dancing with joyfulness and pure love. “Gives me more practice when I surprise you with a ring.” She winked, her finger softly playing with Y/N’s left ring finger causing a trail of goosebumps to travel up her arm. It was decided (informally) that Nancy would be the one to ask Y/N to marry her at some point in their relationship and both of them just ran with it.

“I can’t wait to be surprised again.” Y/N whispered back. Not to hide their love, but because her heart was so light and happy that she was scared to ruin this elated feeling by talking any louder.

#pappydaddy #pappydady's 900 follower celebration #pappydaddy's 1k follower celebration #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler x fem!reader #nancy wheeler fics #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler imagines #nancy wheeler imagine #nancy wheeler fanfic #nancy wheeler fluff #stranger things imagines #stranger things series #stranger things 1 #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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shroudkeeper · 8 months

Text

15. prompt / portentous

Mortals.

Creatures of duplicity, quick to judge and driven by their discriminatory hearts. I am not overly fond of their presence and avoid them if possible. The wretchs take one glance at me and I would be sooner struck down then addressed cordially. It was a never ending cycle, a routine that did not want to be a part of. However, today my luck had truly ran out when I came across her.

So quick she was to turn her attention to me that I barely had a moment to react. Shrouded in plumes of darkness and handling a scythe that would tear me asunder if I but dared to look directly into her eyes.

I knew intimately well this dreadful aura radiating from her core, it ultimately meant there was an ominous force driving her, and underneath it all the ill-intent that would lead to my doom. With each step taken, I wondered if could take my chances against her. She was only one mortal, a disturbingly familiar one, but a fear-addled mine didn't have a moment to consider where I recognized her aura from. I needed to survive.

It woud take but one swing, and if I could manage that, I may be able to flee with my life and alert the others.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Closer and closer she ventured, each step rattling my senses as her geta lightly announced her approach. Nary a voice rose from her to threaten me, berate or curse my existence. This didn't halt the surge of suspicions that arose within me, to the point that any thought of bravery was diminished as my body rejected to follow through with my initial plan.

I must have appeared ghastly, trembling to the point that I could not keep hold of my weapon. Clumsily, it collides unceremoniously to my side; time froze in this moment and I surrendered to my fate at the end of her steel.

I waited. For how long? I could not say, it felt an eternity when the footfalls finally came to an end, replaced by the quiet sound of her garments. Still, I cowered, believing this was a ploy, but when I heard something being placed against the planks, curiosity took hold of me.

I spied the scythe behind her glittering still even as the shadows coveted it, but I did not trust her to be unarmed, it was surely a trick. Convinced, I look to my club just within reach, but movement caught my attention; her outstretched hand in offering.

This .. this was unexpected, unprecedented.

Was it part of some elabaorate scheme to catch me off-guard? Courage found me again and I risked it, if I am to fall, so be it.

Having her this close, I was able to search her features for an answer to my query. What I beleived to be the flames of rancor behind her gaze, terrifying as they appeared upon closer inspection, there was no hint of malice settled there. There is no ploy, no other weapon from what I gathered when looking her quickly over. I could just simply run away.

But I find myself tentatively I reached out for her hand and felt the delicate brush of her fingertips, as light as a feather, but heavy as a mountain when a sudden wave of loneliness fell upon me.

Is this what she was feeling? Though she did not express it physically, I knew the emotion, that was what felt so familiar about her. The dark was a lonesome place at times, those who are showered in the light could not possibly fathom. She and I.. we were similar in that regard.

Still feeling tense, I introduced myself to her, only to find that she too placed her hand on her own chest. It was perhaps foolish to think she would speak, but I hoped to know her name.

Instead she could only reward me with her most beautiful.. and heartbreaking smile.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2023 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv writing #ffxiv screenshot #kikyo takahashi

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tickle-bugs · 1 year

Note

hello! if you’re still writing for the mandalorian, could u do lee!din and ler!cara with the dialogue “can you stop laughing? i’m trying to talk to you. how rude!” and “was that a snort?” (if u don’t want to use both dialogues that’s perfectly fine, u can choose whichever u prefer 🙃)

If Only For a Moment

anon: for the writing requests, if ur still into the mandalorian, if u don’t mind could u do lee!din and ler!cara with the dialogue “wow. you are super ticklish.” please?

Cara’s actor can eat my boot and choke she’s a terrible person BUT I am soft for the friendship these two could’ve had and thus I am taking full custody of Cara. Enjoy!! My first mando fic somehow. AU where they stay on Sorgan for a while/come back to Sorgan to rest.

“Hey.” Cara drops heavily onto the bench beside Din. He makes a soft noise to acknowledge her but doesn’t turn.

Sorgan had set a sort of peace into his bones that he wasn’t sure how to handle. He’s afraid of handling it, truly. Peace isn’t a luxury because you have to earn it--it’s a luxury because it makes you slow. It makes you take survival for granted. You earn peace when you no longer need to survive.

But sitting here on this ridge, overlooking a village finally at peace…it clashes against everything he knows to be true. Their huts are still smoldering in places. The villagers have built barricades around some of the deeper gouges in the earth and done their best to fill them with water. Some of the children have already found their way into the shallower pits to play with the mud and frogs. Din can hear their laughter from up here, wavelengths dancing across the right side of his visor display.

“You gonna sit out here all day?” Cara’s eyes rest heavy on the side of his face.

“Just keeping an eye on things.” His gaze dips towards the treeline. It’s clear. The only heat signatures there are creatures returning to their natural home. Everything is fine. It has been. But he knows that never lasts.

“You’ve been keeping an eye on things for a few days. You’ve earned a break.” She claps him on the shoulder once, brief and firm.

A loud shriek startles them and they both tense with the instinct to rise, but they both know the voices of the village children by now. A pack of them chase each other around a few specific huts--their homes, probably--making blaster noises and shouts that carry on the wind. They watch the grimness of war become a thing of innocence in their hands.

“Were you ever like that?” Cara points.

“Like what?” He follows her finger, then squints back at her. “A child?”

She chuckles at him, but her smile stays earnest.

“Yeah. Did you ever get to be a child?” She tilts her head a bit. Din’s breath catches. They’d talked about personal matters before, but never like this. Their routine was showing their hand, constantly reassuring each other that their mutual interest in saving the galaxy was still mutual. It was always a transaction, never…interest. Is she baiting him in some way? Possibly trying to leech some sort of future blackmail material? Cara lacks that kind of tact from what he can tell, but one can never be too careful. Which opens up more questions still, each unfolding upon and into each other in endless fractals. One question in particular peers up at him beneath the layers, utterly unsettling.

Why do you care?

“Everyone’s a child at some point. That’s the order of things.” He drops his gaze to the ground. Thinking too much will cost him. He knows that.

“Now we both know that’s not true, Mando.” She shifts her weight on the bench and it brings them closer together. Something solemn rests its hands on both of their shoulders, seeping into the collective lifetimes of scars and battered muscle between them. He knows that he’s feeding it, this thing, and it turns his gut with unease.

“Din,” he says quickly, before he can stop himself. He can hear Cara’s confusion without needing to see it.

“My name. It’s Din.”

“It suits you.” She bumps their shoulders together. He looks at her and allows a smile.

Another shriek, shriller this time, sends them both jumping to their feet. One of the village boys had been pounced on by the other children, sending a knot of screeching limbs rolling down the hillside. Panic leaps into Din’s throat. He starts making his way towards the edge of the ridge.

“Din, it’s okay . It’s just--they’re playing. It’s fine.” Cara grabs his shoulder. He lets her lead him back to the bench but his eyes never leave the children. A young boy collapses under the weight of his friends and shouts, piercing through the air. Din flinches. Laughter bursts up from their chaotic little pile but the shrillness still raises his hackles.

“They’re tickling each other, I think. Explains the screaming. Not sure how much more of that I can take, though.” Cara chuckles and looks to Din as if he’d be in on whatever she’s saying. He stares blankly at her.

She extends her hands to him, as if asking for something. He doesn’t do what she wants, mostly because he can’t for the life of him grasp what she wants. She takes his wrists and pulls his hands towards her. She peels off his gloves, minding the beskar as if it were glass, and cradles his hands in her own for a moment. Looking up at him apprehensively, she trails her calloused fingertips over his palms, his fingers, even down to his pulse point on his wrist. It’s…soothing in a way, but he senses from the wrinkle between her brow that he’s not doing this right, somehow.

“I…don’t have much feeling in my hands anymore.” He furrows his brow. Cara makes a pitying noise that he decidedly doesn’t like. He resists the urge to immediately pull his gloves back on. Obviously he didn’t respond the way she wanted.

“Shame.” She shrugs. That solemn thing between them starts to turn the shade of melancholy. They have enough of that between them, Din thinks. He stares down at the rough canvas of his hands, then hers.

“What is it supposed to feel like?” He mimics what she did, tracing his fingers over his own palms. It’s different in a way he can’t quite categorize. Cara blinks with something like disbelief and awe--he really wishes people would stop looking at him that way.

“Alright, well. Don’t kill me, okay?” A hint of an impish smile creeps onto her face. She scoots slightly closer on the bench.

“Why would I--”

Din chokes on a high-pitched noise not unlike the ones ringing down from the hillside. Cara’s fingers gently ripple into the divots between the plates of beskar, finding seams of muscle in his sides that make his brain collapse into a heap of sparks.

“What…is this?” He trembles but doesn’t move, just tries to process the sheer volume of stimuli racing through him all at once. Snickers escape without his permission and he hunches over to try and keep his every atom from spilling out into her hands.

“Wow. You are super ticklish.” Cara laughs. Her fingers keep a rhythmic pace.

“Say the word and I’ll stop.” Something concerned crosses her face before she can hide it from him. He wants to tell her it’s okay, or reassure her somehow that this is…a lot but okay--at least for now--but all he can do is rattle in place as if he’s about to launch into orbit.

Her fingers migrate towards his stomach and his resolve cracks along with his voice. He giggles fervently past bitten lips and collapses into her hands. It’s not lightning, he knows lightning well, but this feeling moves like it. His body seems eager to disseminate it and lessen the impact, but unlike lightning, the electric bursts under his skin have no means of escape. Her hands are on his stomach but he feels the laughter in his veins.

“C-Cara!” He grabs her wrists for something to hold onto. She swoops her fingers under his arms, tripping up his ribs like a ladder. He flails and nearly takes both of them off the bench. It’s worse, so much worse, and he fights the building urge to flee or mitigate the feeling somehow. It’s not harming him. It doesn’t remotely feel like it. He…trusts her.

Until she gets under his arms and he cackles, that is.

“Oh wow. Bad spot, huh?” She giggles with him, a sound he could never truly picture her making. Then again, he could never picture an existence like hers before this either. Certainly never like this. But here he was, soft where he swore he’d never be, melting in the hands of a shocktrooper no longer covered in blood.

Cara does this thing with her fingers, like she’s fiddling with a stuck button for landing gear, and Din snorts. His entire body buckles and he clasps his hands over his helmet. As if it’ll help muffle him.

“Did you just snort?” She presses in again and his head collides with her shoulder. He wheezes and it crackles into the air. More snorts filter out of him and his laughter bounces unexpectedly, responding to Cara’s hands like a fine-tuned weapon in the hands of a master.

“Your ‘tough and mysterious’ act is going to work on me anymore. Just so you’re aware. I respect you, but this…your laugh is so cute, it’s sickening. I mean--” She pauses when Din flails again, sending her grabbing onto his thigh just to keep them both upright. He squeals and his leg twitches violently. She makes a noise of interest that makes his face burn beneath the helmet.

“Can you stop laughing? I’m tryin’ to talk to you. Rude.” She squeezes his thigh again but this time she doesn’t stop. Din squeals again, much louder, and he collapses into the bench. A wave of desperate, garbled noises escape him before his laughter takes full flight. He shakes with the force of it.

“I-I’m trying!” He wails. She helps him sit up with a laugh somehow more tickled than his.

“Oh my god--Din, I’m kidding. It’s okay.” She grips his shoulders and shakes him a little. He nods a little dumbly, trying to remember what it felt like to have control of his limbs.

“You still with us in there?” She taps his helmet. He swats her hand away.

“I think so. That was…something.” He nods. He finds that his smile won’t leave. It’s…nice. Cara pats his shoulder. He leans into it.

“It’s not always so much. Sometimes it’s nice.” Cara hums thoughtfully, then gestures to her neck. “Can I show you? Here?”

He regards her for a while, then nods.

“Gently. Careful.” He warns, holding her wrists loosely.

“I’m always careful,” Cara smirks. It would be terrifying if he didn’t already trust her so deeply. She tips his helmet up slowly, slowly, so much so that he almost wants to chide her for treating him so fragile. The low hums of the internal fan click and lose speed as warm air curls against the underside of his chin. His breath hitches when she lifts the helmet a little more, but it sinks lower again as she balances it against her knuckles. With her free hand, she curls her fingers beneath his chin with the lightest of touches.

He dissolves into giggles easier than breathing, which does not come easy with Cara’s blunt fingernails dance against the scruff on the slope of his neck. Even as he scrunches to trap her fingers, the hand holding his helmet slightly aloft works to bolster the flow of breathy, muffled laughter seeping from the gap in the helmet.

The sounds of war seem far away with the dragonflies fluttering in his chest. For the first time, Din allows it to remain that way.

@parkersaysthings tagging u bc you asked! hope u enjoy! <3

#my fics #bug’s greatest hits #ticklish!mando #the mandalorian #din djarin #ticklish!din #cara dune #I know cara can’t see din’s face but I hc as super emotive behind the helmet bc it’s comfortable that way. she’s learned to read him #also. din is autistic to me <3 my beloved <3

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haverdoodles · 1 year

Text

Today I am 20 years old.

It’s a scary number to me. I still don’t feel 18, let alone 20 – I still feel like a child stumbling around in the dark, trying to find my way. My mother told me that this is how life will always feel, that even she, as a woman in her 40’s, still feels like a child inside sometimes. ‘We’re all children in this endless expanse of stars’, is what I understood from that conversation.

I take the number 20 very seriously. I want to be a mature, sensible adult. The first step I took in that direction was to face my mistakes head-on, no matter how terrifying of a prospect that is. This is a part of my journey that will never end. I think a part of growing up is letting go of that arrogant adolescent “I’m never wrong!” mentality, and embracing humility and a willingness to grow. I am inherently a flawed living being, and I will always make mistakes. What matters most is how I grow from them.

I’m writing this because I’m scared to go to sleep. I was born at 7am, 20 years ago today, and I know that when I wake up that hour will have passed. I will be truly, irreversibly 20 years old. I’m not a teenager anymore.

I know this all sounds quite dramatic (I’m sure it is, and I’ll cringe over it when I read this later with a brain that isn’t sleep-addled) but I am someone who has always struggled deeply with change of any sort. I am a creature of habit and routine. I am made easily anxious over the slightest things. I think what I’m most afraid of is that a switch will be flicked in this second decade of my life, and I will suddenly be expected to know what I’m doing.

Today I am 20 years old, and it’s a wonderful, frightening thing. As I close my eyes to sleep in these final hours of adolescence, I find myself hoping that I will only continue to grow as a person from here. That’s what I want most in life. I want to be a good person.

Happy birthday, Hava. 🎈

#haverdoodles #happy bithday to me #weeeeee #random musings

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prince-liest · 3 months

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i too understand why ppl r frustrated and questioning the other hotel members but truly for anything to make sense at all the only reasonable conclusion for the way no one is particularly concerned abt angel’s situation would be that he tells them exactly jack shit or bare minimum details !

btw thanks for making that post i found it very helpful of u <3 (also the lil snippet hehe) can’t wait for angel and alastor to reappear again ! and good luck on ur shifts these next couple weeks ✊

Yes, yes, haha—the frustration is understandable because I wrote it to be a very frustrating and distressing situation! But I'm really glad this stuff is coming through, and I promise that a lot of the things that don't seem touched on yet are simply lying in wait, like a tiger patiently looming in the wings just waiting for you to leave the safety of center stage. unu

And thank YOU very much, I am hoarding every bit of luck I can find, hahaha. The shifts themselves are honestly COMPLETELY fine, I'm just such a creature of my preferred routines... I've always been very steadfast about my sleep schedule.

#personal #anonymous #my writing #ask

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rollinouttahere · 1 year

Text

Devil’s in the Details

Miguel O’hara x fem!Reader

1.7k words

I should definitely be working on other fics right now, but after finally getting to see the new spiderverse movie I needed to write this and get it out of my system. I didn’t necessarily write this with him being yandere in mind, but it can easily be interpreted that way. Also I know that it’s debatable if the version of himself that he replaced even was spider-man, but I felt like it worked best for this fic if he was. Might do a part 2 later.

It's the little things, you know?

When you make the commitment to marry someone, you sign yourself up to learn every single seemingly unimportant detail there is to know.

From more overt things like how they take their coffee, to something as minute as what section of the grocery store they like to go to first. It's not until you've learned these little personal quirks that you feel like you truly understand them. At least that's how you feel.

That's why it was so bothersome when these little things suddenly changed.

Despite how hectic his life was, Miguel was ultimately what you would call a creature of habit. He had his routines and habits and was absolutely loathed to change them. You suppose he took comfort in being able to control the smaller aspects of his life.

The first thing you noticed was something so minor, that you would have felt stupid pointing it out.

He put his socks on in the wrong order. Usually he did the left foot first, then the right. However, one morning he started with the right foot.

You couldn’t help but stare, which Miguel picked up on almost immediately. His red eyes glanced up through his hair to lock with yours. He quirked a brow at you, “Is everything alright, mi vida?”

Embarrassed to be caught gawking, you scramble to come up with an excuse, because you were absolutely not going to admit this was over the order that he put his socks on. That was probably considered a weird thing to pay attention to. Your parents did always say you were too observant for your own good.

“Oh, I just couldn’t help but notice that there’s a hole in that sock,” you strutted closer to him as he quickly looked down to try and find what you were referring to. He didn’t see anything and looked back up at you questioning, only for you to bop him on the nose, “Ha! Made you look!”

Briefly, his eyes widened in surprise, but then relaxed as he chuckled, “Aren’t you in a funny mood today?”

“Always am!” You giggled and returned to the process of getting ready for the day.

It wasn’t important. For all you know, you were misremembering and he had put them on in the typical order. Yeah, that was definitely it. You were feeling pretty drowsy today, it only makes sense that your brain would confuse something minor like this.

You let it go.

At least, you tried to.

Even if you did let the sock thing go, more inconsistencies popped up. It was always something small, but as the days ticked by, it added up and weighed on you. The slight changes to his speech patterns, him kissing the wrong side of your face in the morning, doing insignificant things in slightly different orders, it was all getting under your skin.

There was another problem. You felt like you couldn’t talk about any of these because almost all of the changes were either so tiny that it felt silly to talk about, or they were improvements to how things used to be. That’s not to say that you felt like your husband was dropping the ball before, but now he was so much more attentive that you didn’t know what to make of it.

You knew what you were getting into way before you ever said ‘I do’. Miguel isn’t your average Joe with a typical 9 to 5. He’s a workaholic scientist whose side hustle is being Spider-Man, you knew full well that there were going to be plenty of times where things simply wouldn’t work out the way you wanted it to. Super villains aren’t exactly known for respecting that the heroes they’re fighting had dinner plans that evening. It’s okay though, you understood. You loved him enough to not let something like that cause problems in your relationship.

So why was him suddenly making more time to spend with you and your daughter bothering you? Why couldn’t you just be happy and grateful? Gabriella certainly was, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Finally, though, there was a slip up even you couldn’t ignore or let go.

It happened one evening when he had taken you out to a nice restaurant for a date night. Not just any restaurant, your favorite. Miguel didn’t have the time to take you there very often, but that just made the instances where he did all the more special.

This restaurant had a particular dish that you thought was to die for, it was literally the only thing you ever ordered when you were here. When something is that good, you don’t want to risk trying something new and not liking it as much.

Before the waiter could come and take your order, nature called. You stood up from your seat, “I’m gonna go use the restroom, could you order for me if the waiter comes back before I do?”

“Of course, what do you want?”

You paused and looked at him like he’d grown a second head. The guy who teased you for having the most predictable order ever was asking what you wanted, and he looked completely serious. There was no coyness in his expression or sarcasm in his tone.

You forced out a laugh, he must be more stone-faced than usual today, “Very funny, dear. My usual, the thing I always order when we’re here.”

Briefly, panic flashed across his face. It was so fleeting that you would have missed it had you so much as blinked, but you definitely saw it. Luck appeared to be on his side, though, because that’s when the waiter arrived. Immediately, Miguel prompted you to order first.

Something was definitely wrong here, and that exchange confirmed it.

After that, you felt more justified in analyzing all those little discrepancies. Granted, you weren’t sure what you were hoping to find. You had no clue what could possibly be going on. Miguel has forgotten things in the past. He’s a busy guy, having plans slip his mind was hardly unexpected, but not remembering a detail about you was unheard of.

The issue, one of many, was that you weren’t even sure what you were looking for. You can’t imagine that he’s keeping secrets. He’s told you about his superhero persona, what could possibly be more under lock and key than that? Cheating is out of the question too, you know he would never.

Maybe it was brain damage? He did get thrown around a lot, it certainly felt plausible, but you couldn’t recall any serious head injuries lately.

Researching on the internet didn’t help much either. The articles you found were either all about cheating or capgras syndrome. You didn’t feel like you had capgras syndrome, the idea that your husband was replaced by an imposter was stupid. Even if one of his enemies had some bullshit power that allowed them to impersonate Miguel, they’d only do it long enough to take you or Gabriella hostage. Why keep up an act for this long? What would there be to gain? It didn’t make sense.

Basically, you were at square one.

That brings you to today. He forgot his lunch at home and you took it upon yourself to bring it to him. Despite all the oddities, you still loved him dearly and were excited to check in on him at work. You made your way down the familiar hallways of Alchemax with a skip in your step and some extra food for yourself, hoping to be able to have lunch together.

Without knocking, you throw open the door to his office. Miguel was watching something on a holoscreen, but dismissed it so quickly that you didn’t get a chance to see what it was.

Well that’s suspicious.

“Hi, honey! You forgot your lunch again, so I was thinking we could eat together!” You held up and gently shook the lunches for emphasis.

His initially startled expression morphed into a warm smile, “I knew I was forgetting something.” He turned away from whatever it was he was working on to face you properly, happily accepting the hug and kiss on the cheek you gave him. “You’re too good for me.”

You lightly slapped his arm, “Aw, don’t say that!”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off by his AI assistant popping up. “Miguel, someone is here to see you.”

“I can see that, she’s already in here,” he rolled his eyes.

“Not her, there’s someone… “non-local” here to see you... It’s important,” Lyla went so far as to make air quotations when she said non-local. You’re not sure why someone not being from around here was such a big deal. Lots of people don’t live in Neuva York.

His face hardened momentarily, but he forced it to relax when his gaze switched back to you, “I’ll be right back.”

With that, he hurried out the door, leaving you alone in the office. You gently put the lunches down, took a quick glance of your surroundings, and then scurried over to where his holoscreens were. Finally, finally, you might have a clue as to what’s going on with Miguel.

Lucky for you, he didn’t take the time to lock it before swiping it away. You pull them up with bated breath, not sure what you were going to find but anticipating it nonetheless. The screen stalled and buffered for a split second before resuming what it was displaying previously.

It was a video from your wedding. During the reception while you two were cutting the cake. While Miguel had the decency to not smear the cake across your face, you weren’t so merciful and scooped some icing off your slice to wipe on his nose. He definitely let you have that, his reflexes were too good for you to have actually caught him off guard.

The warmth in your heart from seeing the fond memory was quickly replaced by the heavy weight of guilt. What the hell were you doing? You went snooping because he was acting a little weird, and all you caught him in was watching home videos at work.

Maybe… Maybe you were over reacting. Imagining things, even. In his lines of work, it makes sense that he’s going to act a little weird or forget things sometimes. You dismissed the screens and resolved to let your suspicions go for the time being. There was no rush to go prying into what little private time he had like this.

It’s not like the world was going to end tomorrow or anything.

#spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x you #spiderverse x y/n

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