#I can't leave either behind for different reasons

[onakomiyaki]

just a silly crush (not) pt.1

pairing: daniel ricciardo x childhood friend-brabham!reader ; lewis hamilton x reader (implied, platonic relationship)

summary: even after two decade of constant battle with his own silly first love slash crush and manage to almost win the fight, you're still the one who manage to knock the breath out of him. and yet, here you are, still oblivious to his feeling.

this is set in 2021, so papaya daniel :D.

warning: unedited and rushed work (I GOT INSPIRED AFTER TWO CANS OF REDBULL RAAAAAAHHHH), harsh words, childhood trauma (kinda), slowburn (we're talking about 20 years of pining from danny)

"c'mon danny, you never say no to a good party!" lando whines as he follow the irritated daniel around like a puppy.

the older man let out a sigh before continuing what he left behind; wiping his helmet. lando stomp his feet once–then let out an exageratted sigh as he sat down beside him.

"just leave your helmet and go out with us!" he insisted.

"lando, no." he sternly said.

"you never say no to a party! especially monaco party."

its true, daniel would never refuse an invitation to a party. in fact, most of the time he would be the one who send out the invitation to everyone on grid. but it's different. today is different.

"it is (y/n) brabham we talked about dan! don't you want to go to her dope party?" lando reason.

if only you knew that is the reason why i refuse to go, lando. daniel thought. "so? why do i have to come along?" he asked, finally facing the young brit.

"uhhh, because it is y/n? she's like a hot topic and the it girl of the paddock right now? daughter of david-fucking-brabham? and maybe i want to know her more?" he answer as if the answer he said is the most obvious answer.

"and i heard from max that she is your friend! so maybe you can-"

"was." daniel stop him.

"damn, okay. she was your friend, whatever. and maybe you can introduce me to her." lando scoff.

your name is still a sour topic to him, leaving a bad taste in his mouth and saying that word killing him inside. yet, he doesn't have the courage to elaborate more to the poor confused lando norris.

(y/n) brabham, the famous australian model turn to actress and daughter of david brabham–yes the david brabham, become the hot flaming topic on the grid after her unexpected debut on the paddock at bahrain gp as lewis hamilton's plus one.

while other drivers didn't think about it a lot, daniel feel like he's about to passed out right then when he saw y/n walking beside lewis, in black mercedes polo—matching with the man beside her–while laughing and waving at the media crew.

maybe because she was also known for her controversial on stating her dislike over the motorsport that his father (and his family) was famously known for. it was not her cup of tea, she said back in her 2019 famous vogue interview.

and maybe because his father insisted on pushing it to her and her younger sibling. and of course their famous leaked dispute over the death of brabham motor company. either way, (y/n) and formula one has never seen in the same sentences. it is just an unwritten and unspoken rule at this point.

max–being the only person who knows about daniel's pathetic one-sided first love– was there to hold daniel's body, giving the poor man some reassuring pats on the back. "mate, if i were (y/n) i would also choose lewis." he said, and daniel swear he's about to knock the blue eyed dutchmen out.

although lewis officialy stated that you were just his friend and fellow ambassador for tommy hilfiger on interview for a few times now, daniel can't help but to get jealous at the 7 times world champion.

because of course you would show up as lewis hamilton's plus one rather than his, despite your history. and after many attempts of invitation and bribery that failed, he just stop asking.

"danny, i hate loud noises and i know how loud those cars are. and also, you know how i feel about the sport"

loud noises his ass.

lando leaning in closer now, shoulder touching his as he stare at the older men with those disgusting puppy eyes. daniel push the younger men on the forehead, as he shake his head.

"oh c'mon now! don't make me call for reinforcement to get you out of here!" lando said as he grab his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, and typing furiously.

"what reinforcement?" daniel asked, eyebrow raised in question.

not even a minute later daniel's motorhome door open, then, enter max verstappen along with carlos sainz and charles leclerc.

"that." lando simply stated as he point to the trio.

max watch in amusement, folding his hand in front of his chest.

"get 'em boys." he said.

"wha-"

"sorry cabrón, we have to get you outta here." carlos said as he walk to his direction, holding his left arm.

"what he said." charles said, grinning as he hold the opposite arm.

"seriously? you're gonna drag me out of my own place?" he asked as he forced to stand up from his seat, not even resisting because god knows how strong these two people are. especially the spaniard.

"yep."

"yeah, pretty much."

"uh-huh."

lando, carlos, and charles said at the same time.

daniel then turn his gaze to the dutch, annoyed at how his smirk seems to speak a thousand words despite being the most silent out of four.

"i expect these three gremlins to be the one who did this to me, but you?" he said, eyes glaring at the dutchmen.

"well, beat me for wanting a good source of entertainment for free, ricciardo." max said, shrugging his shoulders.

"i am going to kill you all, with my own hands."

he already lost lando, carlos, and charles the second they enters the club and god knows where max and kelly are. the lovebird seems to be touchy even before entering the club and now danny needs a glass–or two, of the strongest liquor they legally able to serve.

the–clearly exclusive–club where your party was held is amazing to say the least. it would have been a big fat lie if danny said he was not impressed by the place. he walk through the sea of human, heading straight to the bar as he scan the room.

"oh?" a familiar voice interrupt his train of thoughts as he turn his head to the source.

"they did manage to drag you out of your fortress, i thought carlos was joking. huh, impressive." you said, occupying the empty seat beside him.

"that, they did." is the only response he said as he shot you a thin smile.

"you look good, ricciardo." you smile at him, squeezing his shoulder in friendly manner.

"and so are you, brabham." another dry response from him.

"ugh please, i want to get married just so i can get rid of that cursed last name." you said, rolling your eyes. god you do hate your last name.

"right." he coldly stated.

you nod your head as you brought the martini glass close to your mouth. ah, he's mad at you still, you thought. and he have every right to do so. showing up at the paddock out of nowhere after rejecting his invitations since 2012, without telling him first, was a jerk move.

so, you did the right thing you know.

"sorry about bahrain. i- it was for work purpose." you said, facing him with guilty eyes. you knew this would hurt him.

"its alright, y/n." he answer, refusing to face you because–oh god you look and smell so good and he didn't want to let his wall down. and he knew if he face you, he won't be able to stay mad at you. you are his kryptonite after all, always have been. but tonight he want be strong. he want to be pissed at you.

"well, enjoy the party i guess. and thanks for coming." you chimed, sliding out from the seat as you rub his shoulder.

daniel's fast reflex is both curse and blessing for him. and boy do he feel like it was a curse. because before even his mind processing what is happening when her hand touch his shoulder, his hand was already firm on your wrist, refusing to let go.

you watch him with a mixed of both puzzled and surprised look.

"danny? you need something?" you asked.

his mouth agape, seems to be clueless and surprised at how fast his hand reacted. damn his good reflex.

"oh–um. no, sorry." he managed to say as words seems to be tied inside his throat, unwiling to spilled out as he stare at you blankly.

"oh-kay?" you said.

he let go of your wrist, as if your skin burn him. as if your skin a flaming fire. "sorry."

you open your mouth to say something, but-

"daniel!" both you and daniel whip your head to the sound.

max is waving his hand at him while kelly was nowhere to be seen. but from the goofy smile, max's disheveled hair, and his flushed cheeks, danny might have some ideas about her whereabout.

"i thought you run away or something." the blue eyed dutchmen said as he approach his former teammate with a smile.

"speak for yourself max, i've been here all the time. where have you been?" daniel said, amused look on his face.

"oh! just–uh–dancing with kelly." he speak, trying to clear his throat.

you let out a giggle which causing max to raised an eyebrow at you. that cause you to start laughing.

"uhh, what so funny y/n?" he asked.

daniel roll his eyes as he pointed max's neck and collarbone. "seems like a good dance, look at you all flushed and littered with lipstick stains."

max turned pale as he hide his neck with his hand, immediately buttoning his shirt up to hide the evidence.

"i'm–ahaha–i'm not... you know what? i'll just go..." he said, quickly turn his heels to walk away from the embarrassing situation he's in.

both you and daniel watch as max trying his best to hide himself in the crowds. and when he is out of sight, daniel let out a holler.

"that little rascal," he said, downing his whiskey "oh right, you were about to say something. what is it?" he asked, turning his body to fully face you now. thanks to max, daniel feel a little more calm now.

you give him a smile, shaking your head. "i forgot about it," you simply said with a shrug "it was nice talking to you daniel, really. i have to go and greet another guest now and um–sorry, again. hope we're cool now?" you said, offering a hand for him to shake.

daniel stare at your awaiting hand, finally giving you that sunshine smile before taking your hand in his, shaking it. "we're cool, brabham," he said "only if you come to spa as my plus one."

"oh... but–i have a catwalk on the race day." you said, opening your calendar app on your phone.

"hmm, zandvoort then?"

"photoshoots."

"alright. monza?"

"ah another, photoshoots."

"oh."

"but i can come. the photoshoot will be held in monaco anyways, so it's not that far." you said, showing him your–packed to the year end–schedule.

"really?" daniel said, voice full of hope.

"its only fair if i come to your race since i came for lewis's," she said, smiling at him brightly. "but–"

daniel expression fell, anxiously waiting for what you have to say next.

"you have to win."

he let out the breath he's been holding on, wiping his face before chuckling.

"you have yourself a deal, brabham."

"win that race, ricciardo." you said, giving him a kiss on his cheek.

daniel's grip on your hand loosen as he gave you a warm stare, caramel colored eyes staring at your orbs with some unreadable expression.

"oh i will win this battle, brabham. just wait." he said with more of certainity in his voice now.

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #dr3 x reader #dr3 #daniel riccardo imagine

[polyamorousmood]

Genuine question about poly (I've been thinking about whether it's something I'd want to try, with me being ace it's probably my best option for finding a partner-) how do you compromise when it comes to bigger life decisions? Unless you're in a triad or a bigger sort of "closed circle" polycule, and you compromise among each other (which also seems more difficult tbh), to me it seems like poly relationships are like a web that contains many many people because you're dating three people, they're dating a few other people, and so on. So either you have primary relationships where you prioritize each other and don't mind leaving the other ones behind (which seems a bit idk. I would not be the primary relationship because I won't have sex and ace men are very rare from the surveys I've seen. A lifetime of being in the periphery doesn't seem desireable to me.) Or you act as an individual agent and basically have to break up with everyone if you ever want to move which seems horrific and like a massive commitment. I guess you could do long distance but I don't see long distance working if your partner has other partners they can interact with normally..

I mean. There's no one answer here. You're making a lot of assumptions (which may be but are not always true) so let's break this down bit my bit. Buckle up 💺we got stuff to discuss

But if you want a TL;DR: How do you make that decision in a monog relationship if Partner A wants to leave but Partner B has family here? Well, there's a lot of discussion and someone has to compromise on something. How it shakes out will depend on the people and the specific situation.

"the poly web🕸️" While a polycule can spiral into something huge via the "everyone has three partners" principle, its also possible it stays pretty small. Not everyone in a polycule will want to date someone else, not everyone who wants to date someone else will be able to find someone else to date, etc etc. Small polycules are common in practice.

"aces ♠️won't be the 'primary partner'" I respect you hedging your expectations and understand the reasoning there, but the poly community is pretty open to weird relationship dynamics. You could be the "primary" and your partner could have a couple other relationships to get sexual needs met. You could join an ace polycule. Your partner could have you and one other person and see you both as equal.

"Moving💼 means taking or leaving everyone -- or prioritizing" I... I guess it could? But if you know you're wanting to move far away, you're probably discussing that quite a while in advance, and then only dating people who are okay with things being short term or moving with you. Or a lot of poly relationships are already long distance, so one person moving makes very little difference! There's a lot of options there, which leads to point 4

"Long distance✈️ can't work if your partner has local partners" LDRs in poly relationships are common. I honestly see it as easier because you can have your physical needs met by someone else

"A lifetime of being in the periphery🥈" you're never locked down. If you're not getting what you need from ANY relationship, I hope you're negotiating about it or leaving. If being poly only works for you if you're the primary, but your partner can fuck whoever, you wouldn't be the first. Even if you don't want to impose those rules, there are options, and your partner should be working to make you happy. It can be a hell of a learning curve sometimes, I admit, but you can find a weird way of being that works for everyone. Or you can leave! Or they could leave you for unrelated reasons! Or maybe they go to prison for embezzlement and that sort of ends the relationship for you! All sorts of shit could come up.

"this is a poly problem" Bestie. Do you know how many movies have been made on the premise of "my spouse got a job offer far away but I don't want to move"? This is something that could happen in any relationship. I'm not saying having other people involved wouldn't be a variable in the equation, but your relationship with your partner is no different from a monogamous one in this aspect. How that decision gets made is the same to me as how it would get made in a monog relationship where one person has family they don't want to leave. Maybe you do split up, maybe you try long distance, maybe partner A decides not to move, maybe partner B decides they're willing to move with them after all (and then subsequent partners make the same choice). And its not perfect in any of these options, in fact it probably really fucking sucks. But life is messy. This shit happens.

And like, you don't have to try polyamory. There are asexual people out there you could meet and love. There are allosexual people out there who would be willing to give that up to be with you. You could do an open relationship situation where your partner doesn't "date" anyone else, but can still sleep around. Or you can join an asexual polycule!

So how do major life choices get decided in a polycule? The same way major life decisions get made anywhere. Hopefully, everyone says their peace and gets to weigh in. Hopefully the life goals align. Failing that, hopefully there's a compromise that's acceptable to everyone, but maybe there isn't and it forces a break up (or 6). Maybe some break up but not everyone, like so:

Or some of the relationships turn into long distance or whatever. Man there's too many variables. Some people view things as hierarchical and some don't. Some people don't but functionally have only been dating one person for 4 months so they're easier to leave -- or know they cannot live with another person because they're too disorganized so going long distance is fine. You don't know until you're there. I'm losing the thread, but you know what I'm saying.

#ask box is always open #about polyamory #how does polyamory work

[psycheterminal]

gods I love drawing texture i love drawing velvet i love drawing carapace i love making the light scatter and the shine spots on smooth things

i love fur, I love how it both drinks in and refracts the light

I love that polar bears have transparent hollow hair to hold heat to their bodies

science and art friends 4ever

if you want to be an artist, study anatomy study light study evolution study kinetics

When you know skin is more like a gel you can understand how to layer colors to make it feel realistic

When you learn muscles, your faces will emote so much better and your bodies will contort and bulge in the ways you know you can break the rules instead of breaking them accidentally

When you learn the various types of natural hinges, what happens when muscles are too short and too long or can bend beyond what they should, you learn how to tell a story just as well as shape theory does

And when you're into science and you learn the arts, when you turn your hands, you can understand why weavers used the precursors to the computer, why punch cards were used first, why the first printing press was a modified wine press, why embroiderers and lace artisans were still working in the tech industries into the 60's

You'll find your hands stronger as you play guitar and work at sculpture, you'll find your designs more elegant and more likely to work than your usual brutalist boxes

You'll learn about the origins of dyes and why they're important, why gold is still important to computing, why silver is important to cooking, why it can be useful to water cooling systems

By learning how ceramic works, you build better circuits

And as each learn from each other, we all become better humans because we are different yet each has so much to fucking offer the world still

We are bees, we all can learn of comb, of flower, of honey and birth and dance as we look in awe of the logarithmic spirals and golden ratio and the tragedy of a grave with the wrong spiral on it and why it took a weaver looking at stone age tools to realize what they were for

Humans, a colony of humans who do different things to help the whole

That is the ideal of art. That is the ideal of science. That is the ideal of humankind.

#art #science #up at butts o clock can you tell #isn't the world beautiful though #it's brutal too #but I learned from my despair and my joy and I let them both in and cradled them #and we'll walk forward #I can't leave either behind for different reasons #but we can dance and that'll be enough #because we can see the spira mirabilis

[fordaryl]

REMEMBER.

minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.

It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.

Safety lets you forget.

And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.

"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.

It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.

You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.

One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.

One is fine. You can handle one.

Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.

You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.

Locking it is another story.

You have no hope of accomplishing that.

Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.

Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.

They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.

Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.

You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.

“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”

Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.

"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.

You hold your breath.

"Well check it out then!" another demands.

Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.

You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.

"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."

You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.

Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.

"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."

Then a bright light blinds you.

"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"

There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.

"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.

You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.

You just had to stay alive.

"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.

You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.

"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."

They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.

Five. You count five. If you kill two...

"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.

The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.

The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.

"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.

"But—"

"Now."

His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.

Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."

You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...

The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."

There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.

But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?

You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...

Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.

You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.

The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.

Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.

You were nothing. Prey.

The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.

The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.

But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.

He'd been waiting for you.

You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.

Then his eyes are on you.

Then his hands.

Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.

You nod.

"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"

—————

The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.

His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.

"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"

You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.

He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.

"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"

"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."

His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.

"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.

"You."

"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"

You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."

His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.

Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.

He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.

Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.

"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.

You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.

Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...

Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.

Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.

This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.

He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.

You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.

"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."

His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.

Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.

Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.

You nod weakly in response.

His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.

He's got you.

His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"

One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.

"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."

It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.

Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.

"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."

His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."

He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."

#daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd x reader #daryl dixon x reader #x reader #daryl imagines #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You

Azriel x Reader

Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Angst, Mourning, mention of suicide

Word Count: 3652

Notes: I don't even know where this came from. I was listening to sweet music by hozier and thought "what if I gave Azriel more trauma". The idea popped into my head and it basically wrote itself. I can't believe I have to say this but with this fandom I'm not risking it: this wasn't written to hate on Elain (or any other character) or incite anyone else to do so. Keep your stupid fights off my post, please and thank you. Hope you enjoy!

Part 2

Another family dinner at the river house meant another night of watching everyone around him happy and in love. Azriel didn't think of himself as egotistical, would never think the love his brothers are experiencing is undeserved either, but it reminds him of a time where he was the only one in the Inner Circle with a partner, of when his brothers were the ones confessing to him how jealous they were of how he had found someone that loved him so much, of a time he never thought would have an end. It reminds him of you.

He looks himself in the mirror as he buttons up the navy shirt, trying to ignore the vacant room behind him. If you were here with him you would have been making jokes about his insistence on keeping the blue theme going in his clothes even though he swears he doesn't think too much about what to wear or his appearance in general.

On a good day, you'd be helping him with the small buttons right now, with shadows swirling around your legs and looking up at him the way you knew would take his breath away every time. On an even better day, he'd have your back pressed against his chest, his fingers inside your familiar heat, the other hand wrapped around your throat so you could watch him play with your body, panting his name and clawing at his arm, pleading with him to keep going, to let you touch him. He'd be late for an entirely different reason, not for getting held up talking to his spies, and then getting lost in his memories.

Sensing his thoughts, his meddling shadows move to his desk, filtering into the drawer they knew held a small velvet box. The dark wisps carefully picked it up and set it on top of the dark wood. Leaving it there and moving back to their original places around the darkened room, letting him decide for himself if he wanted to open it or not.

It had been a while since the last time he touched it, busy as he was these days. There were times he would sit and look at it every day, sometimes without even daring to open it and look inside. But there were also times where even the sight of the navy velvet would suddenly suffocate him with the reminder of your sweet scent, one he would never be able to smell again. It would make him hide the box at the back of his drawer, the back of his mind.

Over the last few years, his reactions to it had gotten milder, an unwilling acceptance of the fact that he would never see you again allowed him to reminisce on the happy memories you had together, even the sad ones, every little fight you had seemed so inconsequential now, he'd give anything to be able to have any moment with you back, to hear you say his name one more time.

He walks to the desk, only hesitating for a beat before grabbing and opening the box. His heart throbs as he stares at the ring sitting inside, thumbing at the empty space left behind by it on his finger instinctively. He had never liked rings, didn't like anything that brought attention to his hands or rubbed against the rough skin but the moment you slid the silver ring into his finger it felt right, he had never wanted to take it off. Azriel would wear a ring on each finger if it showed the world he was yours.

He wore the ring for an entire decade after you died, even after all hope that you could still be alive had left him, he couldn't bring himself to let go of it, to let go of you. His mother had been the one to tell him he needed to stop wearing it, that holding onto it, onto the past would only bring him more heartache. He could still hear her begging him with tears in her eyes, not bearing to see her son in such a state, but he had only actually taken it off when Rhys was taken by Amarantha.

He had thrown the ring into the Sidra that night. He's not sure if it had been anger, frustration or simply hopelessness that drove him to it in that moment. He was tired of not being able to protect anyone, tired of losing his people, the people he never thought he would even find when he was just a boy sitting in a dark humid cell. It must have been that boy's pain, still inside him, that drove him to act like that. If it hadn't been for his shadows immediately flying after it he would have lost it, wouldn't have this reminder of a happy time sitting in front of him right now, it had helped him ground himself more than once during the years following that night. His shadows had saved him from himself once again.

He closes the box gently, rubbing at the smooth texture of the velvet, trying not to let himself get lost in your memory and the bitterness that followed at the injustice of it all. Your marriage had only lasted a little over a decade, he's had to live with your ghost for much longer than that now. Still, he knows he won't forget that time no matter how many more years he lives, and, even if it's another five centuries, he knows he'll still wish he had had the chance to spend them all with you.

Some of the pain has dulled, most days at least, but the guilt still eats at him. He should have known something was going to happen, should have reached you sooner, should have told someone to go with you, should have gone himself, should have been the one to die in your place. The millions of possibilities will likely invade his brain until his last breath, after which he'll finally be able to see you again. That was another thought that had consumed him far too often in the beginning. If it wasn't for his mother, his brothers and Mor, if it weren't for the pain it would cause them, he would have taken Truth Teller to his neck just for the chance to see you one more time.

Azriel? His wings go rigid and he tightens his hold on the box at the sudden intrusion. He tries to push his thoughts as far back into his mind as he can before lowering his mental shields, almost letting out a sigh of relief at finding them in place, hoping his brother couldn't get a glimpse of his thoughts. He hands the box to his shadows so they can safely place it back inside his drawer. Are you still coming, brother?

Yes. He moves back to the mirror and finishes buttoning his shirt while trying to keep his tone as nonchalant as possible. However, the hesitation on the other side tells him Rhys sensed exactly what was holding him up in his room, he knows him better than anyone after all.

Hurry then. We're all waiting for you. Azriel closes his walls as soon as he feels his brother's absence in his mind. He knows they miss you too. They had welcomed you with open arms and considered you part of the family after their marriage. Everyone in the Inner Circle took a big hit when you went missing. He will never forget Cassian's face when he arrived to see Azriel kneeling down in a pool of your blood, with no body to be found. His brother wore his heart on his sleeve and it had shattered that night. There were countless sleepless nights for everyone following that moment.

They all threw themselves at finding you in any way they could. There was enough blood on the floor to tell them you had died but none of them wanted to believe it. Azriel talked to every single one of his spies multiple times, ordering them to track every movement in their respective areas. Rhys sent letters to every ally he had and then joined Cassian and Mor in searching every corner of Prythian personally. Even Amren, ever the logical emotionless one, searched for you with every means she could, contacting friends the spymaster didn't even know existed. But, one by one, they all had to accept the truth, Azriel ending up being the most hesitant to.

He had long since killed the attackers, putting them through as much pain as possible for as long as he could keep them alive, making them regret ever touching you. But that didn't help with the gaping hole in his chest, nothing helped. They didn't know how to find your body either. Rhys looked through every corner of their minds and only found them leaving you behind, bleeding on the cold ground.

Rhys refused to show him the memory, no matter how much he begged him to let him see you one more time. Now he knows his brother was just trying to protect him, not wanting that to be Azriel's last memory of you, with the amount of blood left behind he knew you couldn't have been in good shape, but at the time he lashed out at his brother like he had never done before, probably would have killed him in blind rage if it hadn't been for Cassian trying to hold him back and if Rhys wasn't Rhys. Thinking back he should have thanked him instead, for holding onto such a painful memory and keeping it to himself so no one else had to suffer from it.

Even if he couldn't see you again, he still wishes that he had your body to bury at least. Azriel doesn't know how the Mother could be so cruel as to not only let you die so soon, so painfully without at least letting him find your body so he could put you to rest next to your parents' graves. It would also give him a place to talk to you, to feel as close to you as possible.

The pain almost came back in full when Rhysand first told him about Feyre. Jealousy had reared its ugly head at the fondness in his brother's gaze, the slight tint to his cheeks at just saying her name. He was happy for Rhys, especially after everything he'd been through, but that happiness couldn't hold a candle to the pain he felt. He remembers the night he confided in his brothers about the lovely female he had met, how she had told him she loved him, it had been much like that one.

To make matters worse, the first thing he remembered when Rhys told him about his mate was a stupid bet the two of you had made - you had been adamant that Cassian, as sweet as he is, would be the next to get married, Azriel had voted for Rhys, one of his many conquests were bound to work out one day. He won and yet he didn't feel victorious at all. He couldn't even tell you of your loss, see how pouty you get when it happens, ever the sore loser. Didn't even remember the prize but there was no way for you to give it to him now either way. What hurt the most was that he couldn't even tell you his brother had found his mate. These were the best news in over a century and he just wanted to share them with you, wanted to share everything with you.

He takes another look at the mirror with a small sigh, straightening his wings and making sure his face doesn't give anything away before calling to his shadows. He feels them wrap around him slowly, giving him some comfort before taking him directly to the river house.

“Almost thought you weren't coming.” He was still half covered in shadows when he heard Cassian's voice. Everyone was standing around talking to each other, waiting on him. The guilt was tugging at his heart strings again. Why would he ever feel like he needed more than a family that loved him? Who was he to think this wasn't enough for him? It was something he could only dream of when he was younger.

“He's here now. That's all that matters,” the smile Feyre gave him was warmer than usual and her hand lingered on his shoulder for a second too long. Azriel looks over to Rhys, finding him already looking at him, studying his face. He had told his mate of whatever he sensed in his mind then. He hoped neither of them brought it up at least, now or later. What good would admit he misses his dead wife do? No one can bring you back to him.

“Finally. I'm starving.” Cassian clapped his shoulder as he passed by him on the way to the already set table, sitting down immediately. Everyone followed in his footsteps, greeting Azriel and finding their seats. Seems he really had kept them waiting.

Conversation picked back up naturally and he let himself fall into the usual rhythm of these dinners, letting his body relax around his family, forgetting about his old life for the moment. He walked over to the already set table and took his seat next to Elain, as it usually was these days. The seating arrangements had moved around a bit over the last years to accommodate not only the new additions to their little circle but also the relationships in them. He used to always sit next to Cassian but now had given the seat up to his beautiful mate. It left him next to Elain most times since they were the only single fae at the table.

Elain gave him a soft smile as he sat down and he nodded at her with a smile of his own. They had been getting closer ever since she was turned to fae and started living in Velaris. Her quiet nature quickly drew him to her, feeling at ease almost immediately with the middle Archeron sister. But he had to have been blind not to see the way she looked at him, not to notice the enamored smile she gave him.

Sometimes he let himself wonder if things could work between them. She had a mate but it was clearer with each passing day that she didn't feel anything for the male tied to her. It was also obvious how well Azriel and Elain got along, fitting into each other's lives almost seamlessly. He didn't love her but couldn't say seeing himself fall for the lovely female was such a far-fetched idea. She was a beautiful and kind fae, loving her would probably be as easy as breathing.

When everyone had been made aware of the mating bonds, he had even considered if the Mother had made a mistake. His two brothers had ended up with two of the sisters after all. Now he can see he was just desperate for a bond like theirs. In truth, he wouldn't even know what he would have done if Elain had truly been his mate. Would he finally put you behind him? Would he have thrown the ring away again, for good this time? He knows he couldn't bring himself to even with the power of a mating bond. You were etched deep into his skin just like the bargain marks inked into his shoulders.

As the dinner moved on and they made their way to the sofas in the sitting room, his family was already more than lively. Mor had busted out one of Rhysand's old wine bottles, setting the mood for the rest of the night. Azriel had completely relaxed by then, letting himself enjoy their company, his shadows retreating almost completely around the room. Finally having some reprieve from the particularly insistent thoughts that were plaguing his mind today.

Cassian was telling a story he had heard a thousand times now but he still laughed along with everyone else. Listening to Cass tell the story so many times wouldn't make the fact that he had flown straight into a river any less funny. Azriel even remembered the following part, the one Cass doesn't include in the story which was after they pulled him out and he had gotten sick for a week, making him miss practice and lose every spar with him and Rhys for the next months.

Even old stories had a new life with new people around, it was the first time the sisters heard this one, judging by the slight tint to Nesta's cheeks as she laughed at her mate and how hard Feyre was clutching at Rhys' arm to ground herself. Even Elain was laughing hard enough that her body was shaking. Her laugh was soft and melodic, a lovely sound really, but it suddenly opened a familiar pit in his stomach. It reminded him of you. She wasn't quite as loud and her eyes didn't immediately water like yours but the way she raised her hand to her face was similar. And just like that the illusion of happiness he had created shattered.

She was nothing like you but he still found you in every thing she did, in everything anyone did. He couldn't go to half of the city's bakeries and shops without thinking of you and every moment you spent there. He had even changed rooms in every one of Rhysand's houses, not bearing to sleep in the same bed you had held him in. Everyone in the Inner Circle had learned to avoid certain topics, certain stories in fear they would remind him of you. Even your name was rarely mentioned unless he did so first or strictly necessary. Every thought of getting over you was nothing more than wishful thinking. It was like his entire soul was begging him to go to you, but you weren't anywhere in this world.

This had to be one of the worst parts of his routine lately, having to take extra care to school his features when spending time with his brothers and their mates. If his face showed any sign of how much he missed you, how much he wished he could hug you to him just like they can do with them, they would immediately look at him with pain in their eyes, pain for what he lost and will never get back.

It had taken too long to get used to how differently they treated him after what happened. He had to start a fight to get them to stop treating him like he could break at any second when it was the truth. They knew it as well as he did, but they also knew that they had to let Azriel mourn in his own way, that there was nothing they could do besides stay by his side.

You weren't mates - maybe the pain he feels would never compare to what his brothers would go through if their mates ever met the same fate as you - but that had never mattered to him. His soul sang for you the same way he sang for his shadows, you were written into his very being just like they were. And, most importantly, there wasn't a single fiber in his body that wanted to live without you.

Even a mate could never erase you from his memory, even if you had been alive. He doubts if a mating bond had snapped between you two at the time, you would have gotten any deeper into him than you already were. He can't imagine loving you, wanting you more than he already did was possible.

He felt his shadows move to him, almost sending them away thinking they were coming to comfort him again, hiding him from the world as usual. Their urgency gave them away, and by the way Rhysand's body tensed across from him he also had noticed something amiss.

“What happened?” The High Lord's voice cut through the atmosphere immediately, everyone looked to him for an explanation and got ready for any possibility. His entire body stood still when his shadows told him they felt someone winnowing into the townhouse.

“Someone's in the townhouse,” he stood up as he spoke, sending some of his shadows out to find out as much as they could and the rest around Velaris to check if there were any other disturbances.

“Who could get past the wards?” He felt a shield around them, Rhys had likely set it up around his house. Cassian's siphons were flickering red as they all prepared for what could come next. Velaris was more than well protected, especially after the attacks before the war, but the High Lord's homes were nearly impossible to get into uninvited, Azriel himself had helped make sure of it.

“I don't know,” he held onto Truth Teller as he waited for his shadows or his High Lord and Lady to find something. His shadows were being strangely lax about the whole situation, maybe this was someone who knew of a way to go around his gift, keep them distracted.

It took longer than usual to receive a response from them, making him and everyone around him more concerned by the second. By now everyone was donning a sword or weapon of some sort, only waiting on more information before splitting up to keep Velaris safe and find the intruders.

When his shadows finally appeared they wasted no time rushing to his ear, at last sensing his urgency in the matter. Their answer was one nothing could have prepared him for, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.

His shadows came back carrying a once familiar tune. They came back singing your name.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fic #divider by saradika

[ventique18]

Malleus is literally contender for most pitiful character in twst... Dead parents (mandatory for male leads, I fear), grandmother who couldn't bring herself to love him enough to hatch him herself, foster father who he can't even say I love you to because of their difference in status, foster brother/s who are mortal and will die before he physically turns 30, everybody dislikes him because his own mom accidentally cursed him, his first organically-met friend and potential love interest wants to go home to their own world and leave him behind, and if he chooses not to marry and have kids he's doomed to overwork until he either dies of loneliness or everyone else dies so he wouldn't have anyone to rule over anymore-- whichever comes first.

But even through all the shit the world's putting him through, he's still always so very grateful for any morsel of affection he does receive. Despite having all the reasons to be permanently afflicted with sad boy syndrome, he'd still grin and laugh the widest he could with anyone willing to share some with him. He wouldn't understand jokes and you may have to explain it to him, but he will laugh the moment he realizes you're being silly for him. He will adore that cheap bracelet you made for home economics. He will finish and love that plain omelette you made for him.

He's someone larger than life itself, but he's also someone who thinks little moments and memories and the people who gave them to him are more precious than even his very life. And he is genuinely thankful for every single one of them.

#god i am so in kove with him #what a deeply flawed #deeply loving guy #he's so flawed he's perfect #twisted wonderland #ventique rambles #malleus draconia

[noneorother]

As a film person, this is the most f*cked up thing that happened in all of Good Omens

Forget about the final 15. If there's anything that should convince you that there's something really wack going on in season 2 of Good Omens it should be this cut. I literally gasped when I saw it for the first time. It's SO BAD from a technical perspective. Because you've probably been watching TV and movies your whole life, you might instinctively feel there's something weird happening with this cut, but not be able to put your finger on what it is.

I am here to tell you: they sacrificed continuity of action to *change the main character of the shot in the middle of the scene*. I won't do a full theory course on filmmaking here, but basically, when you want a fluid-feeling sequence of shots, especially when there's quite a lot of movement on screen, you have to conserve the direction and intention of that action to feel like it's all one take, and time is moving forward like we're used to in real life. Here, Crowley, Maggie and Nina all leave the Bookshop together, with Crowley and Maggie flanking Nina, who is centred in the shot. They are moving towards the camera as the camera is walking backwards, but at a slight curve camera-left. Crowley even turns his head and swings his arm left, making us feel like the camera will keep Nina center, and pan left or even cut wider to see more of the left of the street to watch them cross.

Well SURPRISE, idiots!

Forget everything you learned in film school because we're cutting immediately to a second medium length shot of the 3 characters from a slightly more camera-right perspective for no reason whatsoever, in the *opposite* direction of where the action is going, WHILE THAT ACTOR IS SPEAKING A LINE. This is so counterintuitive to the blocking of the scene that Maggie literally gets shoved out of frame while we're supposed to be reading her reaction to Crowley's dialogue. I can't stress enough how weird it is on a fundamental level. When a camera is moving and a character is talking, conserving continuity of action is THE ONE thing you don't sacrifice. It pulls people out of the moment, and makes it extra obvious that multiple takes have been stitched together. Which leads me to think that this is intentional, and sets up what I hinted to at the beginning of this whole "The More You Know" moment : Nina is the main character of the scene we're watching, until, suddenly, Crowley is. If you separated those two moments before and after the cut and watch them as two different scenes, you can see the camera following Nina and keeping her center before, but directly following Crowley and keeping him center *after* the cut. We've switched narrators in this moment. And to top it all off, they're making it pretty obvious that, while Nina is listening and reacting to both Crowley and Maggie, Crowley does not give a rat's ass about the two humans (not either not really in frame, or cut off behind him).

#good omens 2 #good omens meta #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #go meta #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #good omens #go2 #good omens prime #crowley #anthony j crowley

[badaxefamily]

Reasons to play Palia:

Cozy, gentle farming/village sim a bit like a combination of Harvest Moon and Animal Crossing, but online.

Most of the villagers are romanceable if you're into that. Either way they all have backstories that you learn by befriending them.

One time I went fishing and pulled up a charcuterie.

There's robots. One of them is romanceable because the fanbase demanded it in alpha.

You can't pet the dog but you can talk to him:

The fishing and bug catching systems are unique and fun.

When people find a rare/special resource like a Flow tree or palium ore, they'll call over zone chat to tell people where it is because everyone that hits a resource node will get the same reward no matter how many people are on it.

Crabs count as bugs so you can catch them!

Sifuu sent me a brick in the mail.

Cat people come from the moon, allegedly. Which moon? Probably the one that isn't on fire.

Concerned about too many people stripping the resources? The game is instanced and each instance only has a handful of players at a time. Even if they're all mining, or chopping trees, the nodes respawn fast enough to compensate. Plants and other things on the ground are not shared, so grab all those you want.

You can hunt for meat and leather, and there are a variety of animals that require different methods. Some of them teleport or clone themselves.

Speaking of hunting, you do so with a bow, and there's no blood or dead body. Bagged animals literally disappear and leave behind a bag which you loot.

You can climb and glide kind of like Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom.

The housing system is pretty robust, almost like WildStar. You start with a tent and then get a house which you can add rooms to. You can find, buy, and craft furnishing and sometimes villagers will gift them to you.

There's no HP and no penalty for falling, so feel free to yeet yourself from high places in order to explore!

#palia

[koinotame]

how dangerous the twst cast is as yanderes

content warnings: this is yandere stuff so plenty of relationships and mindsets of questionable healthiness. reader implied to be yuu. mentions of murder and violence (nothing explicit/graphic, but frequent. mostly not aimed at reader). most are pretty ambiguous wrt being romantic or platonic (though it’s assumed they have an at least somewhat close relationship with you). i don’t think there’s any explicit spoilers but this was written with mostly-up-to-date knowledge so maybe beware if you really want to avoid any spoilers

whole main cast is included, under the cut for length (near 4k words)! if you read ortho's section as incestuous or romantic in any other way i will shoot a laser beam at you.

fairly harmless overall ▸ i actually normally wouldn't put them together, but in either case i can't see either of the adeuce duo being too dangerous to others. yeah, they might beat someone up for getting too close to you or hurting you, but i really really can't see either of them going much farther. deuce in particular used to be a delinquent, and he does sometimes slip back into that mindset, and he does know how to beat someone up well… but he's a good boy now. your good boy. even in his delinquent phase he would've never actually killed someone, and the idea horrifies him a little too much to ever seriously consider. ace has a bit less restraint, but also a lot less experience. what he lacks in experience he does more than make up for in wit and quick learning, but… while the thought does cross his mind occasionally, he wouldn't be able to stomach actually killing someone either. he'll beat someone up if they hurt you or you ask him to though. unlike deuce, he'll probably brag about it to you if he knows your reaction would be positive.

▸ don’t you worry! your cay-kun would never kill someone! in fact, cater is very unlikely to get violent at all. when he gets jealous (which happens pretty often), he turns that bitterness inside. what do they have that he doesn’t? do you like quieter guys? is he too obsessed with magicam? do you not like the way he doesn’t let you in unless you push, because he’s too afraid you won’t like what you find and leave? is he not affectionate enough? do you not like his hair? it doesn’t matter what it is about him that you don’t like, about others that you do like. he’ll fix the problem; he’ll fix himself. he’s already used to putting on acts around others—this isn’t that different. even if it’s not him you like at this point, as long as he can stay by your side, it’ll be fine. there’s a desperate edge to his actions that’s hard to spot, but once you have is impossible to unsee. as long as you continue liking him, he’ll throw away who he is—just. don’t throw him aside once you’re bored of him, okay? keep him around forever. please. ▸ jack is another that’s fairly harmless. it’s in his nature to be overprotective, and he doesn’t see much wrong with that, but he has no issue with your friends and he’s pretty reasonable at telling apart actual threats from things like jokes. he’s much like your guard dog… or maybe he’s more like guard puppy, with the way you doubt he’d ever actually hurt anyone despite his big stature. he’s embarrassed when you tell him this, but the wagging of his tail gives away just how much he likes knowing you’re okay with—even like—his constant presence. he’s not… completely against going behind your back when someone is actually about to hurt you to deal with he issue, though. just… just occasionally, when it’s really necessary. he won’t make a habit of it. he just… doesn’t want you to see him like that. he’d never want to scare you. that’s all.

a bit less harmless but not by (too) much ▸ riddle is good and well behaved and refuses to resort to something as drastic as violence or murder, or at least he’s trying very hard to convince himself so. he’s definitely somewhat tyrannical to everyone around you even after he mellows out after his overblot, and he has no hesitation in punishing those who hurt or displease you, especially his own dormmates. even once both of you graduate, this habit of his never quite vanishes. he gets a little frantic if you show disapproval of his actions though, especially if you seem scared of him. he’s desperate to prove that he’s good and loves you and would never hurt you, and if that means toning down his ardour, he’ll try his best. the stress of possibly losing you just makes him all the more overbearing to everyone around him. he’s trying his best for you though, so… don’t you love him as much as he loves you? won’t you turns your eyes back to him and only him? ▸ kalim would never kill someone! nor would he have someone be killed. but his family's wealth and influence extends far, and anyone seeking to hurt you (or him through you) would be a fool to think otherwise. he'd never kill someone, but making sure they end up rotting in prison for the rest of their life is just doing the right thing! he might be a little blinded by his panic, sure, but— they tried to hurt you! if he's really jealous (something that doesn't happen often—he only has eyes for you, after all, so he tends to not think too much about others), it's not hard to just have them transfer. or be fired. or something. he won't tell you outright, but if you ask he sees no point in hiding it from you. if you don't react well, he gets a little frantic and insists that he really really really wouldn't ever go farther than that…! probably. ▸ epel getting into yet another fistfight for you is something you’ve grown unfortunately used to. you’re frankly convinced he outright wants you to see at this point, maybe in some misconceived idea it’ll make you think he’s tough, with the way he runs up to you like a puppy expecting praise afterwards. he’ll be torn if you fuss over him afterwards—on one hand, he wants you to think he’s tough and your coddling doesn’t really give the impression that you understand that, but it feels really, really nice when your attention is focused on only him. but as unrestrained as epel is, he’s not particularly dangerous. if you seem really put off by his actions, he might even rein it in a little (vil is glad for your cooperation, even if that wasn’t your intention). he’s more preoccupied with earning your attention and approval than he is with stuff like keeping other suitors away from you. ▸ i just think it’d be really funny if despite everything about him, rook is one of the most harmless. he’s the type of yandere to have a shrine (it’s not in his closet because he has no shame) and have his room covered in notes about you but who’d never actually kill someone. he’s also… the type who enjoys and loves everything about you. to rook, the journey is more important than the destination, and that includes you. the you on your own, the you around your friends (not that they’ll stick around too much once they notice rook), and the you around him are all different and equally worth loving. he’s not exactly shy about his stalking either, but once you get used to his constant presence, it doesn’t really get worse. maybe a little more intense, but not worse. he’s fine with pretty much any way you want to treat him, too—whether you treat him like a beloved pet or a plaything or act like you don’t know or notice him, he’ll love you all the same. forever.

holds themselves back… but not because of ethics ▸ when trey thinks about the future he wants with you, he allows himself to imagine what it would be like to be so wholly engrossed in each other that everything else might as well not exist. unfortunately, the two of you live in real life and not in a fairy tale, so he’s settled for the idea of eventually settling down and growing old with you. it’s… not entirely ethics that holds him back. he’s aware that most of the urges he gets when he sees you around others or when he sees you get hurt in someway are immoral, and he reigns himself in. aside from some people in your life suddenly finding it odd how the ever dependable senior suddenly doesn’t seem to like them much and has been giving them the cold shoulder, most people are very unlikely to realise there’s anything off about trey… including you. just let him be your normal (if fairly fussy) boyfriend, okay? and if he occasionally slips a bit of a sleeping potion into your food and masks the taste with his unique magic so you end up staying the night just so he can spend a little more time with you… that can be his little secret. ▸ it's definitely not ethics that holds ruggie back, but it would be a serious problem if he gets caught killing someone. or even just gets particularly violent with someone else. he'd do it in a heartbeat, especially for you (especially if you asked him), don't get him wrong, but, well— if he goes to jail, he's fucking his family over. if he goes to jail, he won't be able to provide for you in the future—or have any sort of relationship with you. his resolve might waver if you were to actually ask, but even then he’s determined to stick to actions he can reasonably get away with. it's not uncommon for him to use laugh with me to embarrass any guys he thinks are getting too close to you though, and it's not too hard to be discreet with his unique magic when someone really deserves to fall face down a flight of stairs. or three. oopsie. odd they don't remember it, huh? well, he had nothing to do with that. ▸ jamil is a bit more restrained. murder is fine (it’s definitely not his first resort, but it’s there as an option if he really needs it—he did kind of try to kill five people, even if it was during his overblot), but using snake whisper is just so much more convenient… most of the time. due to his position as a servant of kalim, he has to carefully consider any actions he takes unless he wants there to be dire consequences for his family. unfortunately for him, this means he can’t just beat up anyone getting too close to you no matter how much he may feel like it. his unique magic does work well for him here though—and he’s not opposed to using more force if there’s a good reason (like impressing you and getting complimented by y—ehem. making sure your bullies won’t bother you again). the one person he’d rather not use his unique magic on is you. what he likes so much about you is that you’re choosing him of your own volition, and that’s worth more than any force could get him.

not the worst, but… ▸ azul tries really, really hard to keep everything he does behind your back, well. behind your back. he doesn't usually get his own hands dirty, but it would be a serious problem if you found out about the students he's been tricking into unfair contracts just because he got jealous. and it'd be one thing if it ended there, but more than that… if anyone hurts you, the tweels haven't amassed a certain reputation for nothing. if azul’s this fond of you, there’s a very high chance they’re familiar with you as well—and even if they weren’t, azul being jealous enough to send them after people that aren’t even remotely threatening your relationship is amusing enough for them to comply. he won’t go too far though, no matter how envious he may get. ruining someone’s reputation, having the twins beat them up or tricking them into unfair deals is one thing, but even someone like azul wouldn’t resort to cold-blooded murder. ▸ remember when vil, pretty lucid, tried to poison neige? yeah. with his unique magic and social standing, it would be really easy to get rid of anyone causing you issues. of course, with you being aware of his unique magic, he’d have to be careful to make sure you don’t realise, so it’s something he’d reserve for only actual emergencies. it’s also a lot easier to abuse his influence and fame to keep others away from you, whether it’s by threatening them himself or getting others to do his dirty work for him. when it comes to you and keeping your attention on him, he finds it much more rewarding to keep working on himself to meet your standards and doting on you even much than he already does. keep your eyes on him and only on him, won’t you? he’ll make it worth your while. ▸ idia, as a yandere, is incredibly desperate. he’s already perfectly content (well, not perfectly, but content enough) to just watch you through his screen and maybe chat with you online (with your anonymous pal who you definitely don’t know irl, of course), so if he gets lucky enough to be with you for real, there’s very little he won’t be willing to do to ensure it stays that way. in practice this means trying to appeal to you more than anything else; if you seem even the slightest bit unhappy with him, he’s desperately trying to fix it immediately. do you think he’s too offputting? he’ll cover his mouth and hair and— are you mad because he tried to convince you to ditch your friends and just stay with him again? he’s sorry! he doesn’t have an excuse, he’s just scared that you’ll realise you could do so much better and don’t like him that much after all. sometimes he thinks about how he definitely has the resources for more forceful and permanent measures, but then you smile at him, or tell him his smile is pretty, or run your fingers through his hair, or laugh at a comment he made and his mind goes blank and gives him a 404 error. there’s no way he could ever give that up just for some measly certainty… though the same can’t be said for those who he gets too jealous of or those who hurt you. not that you need to know that.

not needlessly violent ▸ sebek is… very enthusiastic about the things he dedicates himself to. this includes you. if you thought his devotion to malleus was excessive, it’s even worse when it comes to you. while he has no personal issues with fighting if it means protecting you (whether that protecting includes only actual threats is debatable), he takes pride in his position as malleus’ retainer. this means that no matter how he feels, he has to consider how his actions would make briar valley and his lord look. he also doesn’t really get jealous. instead (and this is almost worse), he has his own idea of how everyone else should treat you and he does get aggressive with others if he doesn’t think they’re treating you right. you deserve a heavy amount of respect and he finds it very aggravating when others don’t give you that (see: treat you like a regular person). he’s not subtle either—if anything, going behind your back on this would go against his values. he wants to be useful to you!!! he wants you to know how much he cares and how you’re superior and the one with all the power in this relationship!!! the good thing is he listens to everything to ask of him, no matter how ridiculous he finds you insisting you prefer being treated casually by your friends and peers. ▸ silver, while less outwardly enthusiastic, is no less devoted. he doesn’t really get jealous (there’s a dull ache in his chest when he sees you with others and thinks about the possibility of someone being more important to you than you are to him, but that’s not jealousy, right?), and he’s fairly realistic about what counts as a threat to you and what doesn’t. the problem is that as soon as something crosses that threshold, he’s drawing his wand (or baton. or sword. he’s trained and prepared with all three). it’s almost scarier than if he were enjoying it, because you have absolutely no clue how far he’s willing to go for your safety—or if he even has any limits when it comes to you. he has a rather twisted view on relationships, and that extends to you. you’ve been so kind and accommodating and caring, and he needs to repay you for that. he’s insistent on serving you, because his entire self worth (and by extension any care you’ve gracefully granted him) relies on being useful. also doesn’t really see himself as your proper equal, though he’s less aware of this compared to sebek, and also listens well to just about anything you ask of him. if it’s for you, he’d do anything. ▸ you have a very different definition of "not needlessly violent" than lilia, but it’s at least true he doesn’t go around picking fights. he's not bothered at all by baby chicks clinging too close to you. if anything, he might pop into the conversation and agree with them—you are great and wonderful and adorable and so much more! it makes the conversation kind of awkward, and whoever you were talking to might not seek you out as much afterwards, but beyond teasing you there's never any indication that he goes any further. of course, violence is something he’s been very accustomed to over his long life, so when someone actually hurts you he has no issue with getting the message across in a more… drastic way. as soon as he's done, he's right back to coddling you. they won't be repeating the same mistake again, so don't worry too much about it and stick close to him from now on, okay?

very needlessly violent ▸ violent probably isn’t the best way to describe leona, but he doesn’t hold back when it comes to you. what, you think he’s just going to sit back and let you go? you’re the best thing that’s happened to him, like hell he’s going to not put in the proper effort in keeping you. …even if you’re not sure if you entirely agree with the sentiment. he gets jealous very often, so it’s common to see him glowering and scaring off anyone he deems too close to you. there’s no need to go further when he knows they’ll leave you both alone afterwards, but the threat only works as well as it does because he has both the magical prowess and social influence to make good on his promises. he’ll insist he doesn’t see them as threats so much as pests hanging around and leeching off of you, but there’s some part of him deep down that’s scared you’ll decide you like someone else better after all. he’s not sure he could take even you leaving him. any actual danger to you is also dealt with quickly, and while he doesn’t want to threaten you into it, you won’t have an easy time abandoning him even if you try. you were the one who wormed your way into his life—you don’t get to leave now. ▸ yeah. lol. the tweels are very, very needlessly violent. perhaps not the most Dangerous in the grand scale, but almost definitely some of the most unpleasant. for their victims, at any rate—though they do occasionally (or not so occasionally) nearly give you a heart attack. they’d never seriously harm you though… probably. or actually kill anyone. right…? floyd tends to be the most immediately dangerous. he’s quick to turn to violence (and to get a little too into it) when you’re involved, even more than usual. someone’s bothering you? someone’s getting a bit too close to you in his opinion? you just want him to? you’re not paying enough attention to him and he knows this’ll get your focus back on him, where it should be? :) he’s not too hard to pacify, at least when it’s you offering to let him rest on your lap or offering to spend the whole day with him. jade is usually clocked as less dangerous than floyd, but. well. you know that line he says when he ruminates on how he’d react if betrayed? yeah. unlike floyd, who’s very open about his misdeeds, you’re not actually sure what jade does behind your back. you don’t want to know. the way some people in your life pale and flee at the sight of you, the way you don’t see some of them again at all, and the way jade smiles when this happens tells you all you need to know. what would happen if you betrayed him? fufu, you’d never do that so there’s no need to worry about it. ▸ didn't he attempt to blow up the school once… 💀 yeah, as cute as ortho is he's not exactly built with too many stop guards. the good news is he's easy to dissuade! the bad news is he's also very quick to escalate to really ridiculous levels. you're his older sibling, it's only natural he'd want to protect you! are you sure you don't need him to blow them up? chances are the threat alone worked well enough to deter anyone from messing with you again. you might want to have a conversation with idia about limiting some of ortho's abilities though because his enthusiasm… is a little very concerning… he does get a little jealous occasionally, but it's much easier to insert himself in the conversation and steal your attention that way. isn't your little brother cute? won't you focus some more on him? please?

▸ malleus is… malleus. violence isn’t his first resort, largely because it just… doesn’t need to be. he’s one of the five most powerful mages in the entire world. that title alone is enough to scare off anyone who’d mean to hurt you or is getting too close to you, so he rarely has to intervene in the first place. he also doesn’t mind you having other friends (though he does get lonely in your absence… make sure to make it up to him afterwards), so he really only steps in when you’re in danger. he’s not particularly worried about getting caught by you, because he’s so out of touch that it doesn’t occur to him that you may not appreciate him turning anyone who hurt you into ashes. if anything, he enjoys showing off how capable of keeping you safe he is. he’s defending you, who he cares about most in the world; why would that upset you? if you try to spin it as being worried about him getting into trouble for killing someone, he’ll be very pleased you’re worried about him instead. the only thing that would crack his calm attitude is any sort of reminder that he will long, long outlive you… but it’s best not to dwell on that. fret not, he won’t ever let you go.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #i. am NOT tagging everyone #sorry for the awkward line breaks. the editor has it out for me specifically

[hongcherry]

you're my tomorrow | j.ww

At first, you didn't think anything of it. Jeon Wonwoo was just a customer. However, his daily visits to your bookstore café started to become the highlight of your days. The little conversations here and there made you happy. It's because of him that you always look forward to tomorrow.

☕️ Pairing: customer!Wonwoo x cafeOwner!Reader

☕️ Rating/Genres/AUs: PG; Fluff with a sprinkle of angst, slice of life; Strangers to lovers, cafe au, non!idol au

☕️ Warnings: Reader is smaller than Wonu, ultra soft boi and supportive wonu *swoons*... can't think of anything else but ofc lmk otherwise

☕️ Word Count: 5k

☕️ Author's Note: Thank you to @justsomekpopstuff for giving me this plot idea! I def got carried away and wrote way more than I thought I would lol. I hope you enjoy it! Everyone thank JJ for the storyline ✨ Also, thank you Jess (@the-boy-meets-evil) for beta'ing and giving me amazing suggestions for some edits! 💗

Happy holidays to all (if you celebrate)! Stay safe and have a nice time 💖

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

Monday

When the door chimes a little after eight at night, you know it’s him.

He strolls in, usual glasses perched on his nose and jacket layered with a few specks of snow. His hair isn’t styled, soft waves adorning his head. He looks like the average person who’s winding down from a long day at work. From the two and a half months you’ve known him, this is his usual state on Monday nights.

Wonwoo entered your cozy bookstore café nearly three months ago. His order rarely varies, and sometimes he orders a drink he could get anywhere else. Yet, for some reason, he always comes here.

And throughout those months, you’ve realized you always look forward to his presence.

“Busy evening?” he asks while stepping up to the counter.

You’re in the middle of packing a pastry for another customer and quickly hand off the bag to your coworker.

“More so than usual; it’s finals week,” you reply with a small smile.

Wonwoo glances around, nodding as he takes in the sight of many tables occupied by people with textbooks, laptops, and notes scattered around them.

“I don’t miss those days,” he chuckles.

“I don’t either,” you agree. “So, what can I get you today?”

Wonwoo peers up at the menu behind you. You wonder why he does so since he usually rotates between three drinks.

“A hot chocolate,” he replies.

“Oh?” You can’t hide your surprise.

He grins, tilting his head slightly. “Should I have ordered something else?”

“No!” you hastily say. “You can order whatever you want.”

He pulls out a bill that exceeds the cost of the order and slides it to your side of the counter.

“Just thought I’d try something new for the holidays,” he explains, then leaves to find a seat.

“Wait!” you call out, bill in your hand. “You paid too much!”

If Wonwoo can hear you, he pretends he doesn’t. He continues his journey and ends up in the corner next to a window by the bookshelves. He retrieves a book from his bag, opening it where his bookmark rests.

Your hand falls to the counter with a heavy sigh. You guess you’ll give him his change when you give him his order. Normally, you’d call customer’s names or numbers for pick-up. But Wonwoo is different.

Wonwoo’s one of the rare customers who gets his order hand-delivered.

After completing the transaction in the system and making his drink, you grab his change from the register and walk to his table.

“One hot chocolate,” you announce and set the cup down along with his change.

“I’ll take the drink,” he says and brings it closer, blatantly ignoring the cash next to it.

“Wonwoo,” you say.

“Yn,” he answers, eyes flickering up.

There’s a small smirk on his lips that makes your insides churn.

“You overpaid,” you simply state.

“So?”

You move his money closer. “So, take it back.”

Wonwoo slides the money back to you. “Consider it a tip.”

“You know we don’t take tips here,” you say, moving it again.

“You should. You all work hard.”

“People are already struggling as is. If they can find solace in a little place like this, that’s all that matters.”

Wonwoo rests his hands on top of yours, which is still on the money, and slides it back to you.

“Then consider it a holiday present. From me to you,” he smiles.

His hand feels warm on yours. Your eyes move down, but you wish you hadn’t.

His large hand nearly covers yours, making you feel small yet protected. You can tell from his build that he’s strong and fit. You wonder what it’d be like to get a hug from him.

“I—” you struggle to speak.

“It’d make me happy.”

You sigh, nodding hesitantly.

He slowly removes his hand. “Thank you.”

“N-No problem,” you say, gathering the change and pocketing it. “Enjoy your book and drink.”

“Thanks,” Wonwoo replies and picks up his book. He holds it up with one hand and uses the other to sip his hot chocolate.

You make your way back to the front, trying to ignore the lingering warmth on your hand and the feeling in your chest.

Tuesday

Wonwoo shows up at the same time but orders one of his usual drinks. It's a different book than yesterday and judging by the similar cover, it's probably the next one in the series.

Ever since Wonwoo “gifted” you money, you’ve been trying to think of something to get him. It’s a little tough considering you don’t actually know him. You know he works a duty-heavy job and that he lives nearby. You know he has a lot of friends despite him being so quiet. Although you’ve never seen Wonwoo and his friends in the same room, they often come with him to the café in duos or trios.

You also learned he’s an avid cat and gaming lover.

You were surprised about the latter.

“Is he also a student?” one of your new coworkers, Sebastian, asks thirty minutes after Wonwoo’s arrival.

You wipe off the cup in your hand and set it on the counter, calling the number associated with it.

“No, he graduated already,” you reply and watch him practice making a drink.

“You seem to know him. Are you two friends?” he wonders.

You lean against the counter. “I don’t think so. He’s just a regular here, so I’ve learned a few things here and there.”

“Ah,” he replies and hands you the finished drink.

You take the drink and start taking a sip to see how well he did.

“You should ask him out.”

You choke on the drink, eyes wide as you reach for a napkin to wipe your chin.

“T-That wouldn’t be appropriate,” you stammer.

He laughs and takes the drink from you. “He’s not working here, and it’s not like you’re paying for him to come by. I don’t see how it’s inappropriate.”

You sigh, knowing he has a point. It’s not that you’re not attracted to Wonwoo, but it feels almost out of line. Plus, you’re not sure if you like Wonwoo, or just like the thought of him. You haven’t been in a relationship in years and would be lying to say you don’t miss having a partner.

You miss being able to share life memories with someone.

Wonwoo’s handsome. He’s kind, funny, caring, and fit—not that that’s a big deciding factor, but it sure is a bonus. Though, do you just want someone with those attributes, or do you want him?

“Just think about it,” Sebastian suggests and greets a new customer.

Your eyes drop to your feet in thought.

Part of you worries you’d make it awkward if he says no. It’s not like you are friends, so you won’t be ruining a friendship, but you enjoy seeing his face every day. His simple presence is one of the highlights of your days.

Plus, you don’t even know if he has a partner already!

You groan, putting a hand over your forehead as you try to organize your thoughts.

“Bad night?” a familiar voice asks from over the counter.

You drop your hand to see who it is.

Wonwoo stands with his empty cup and saucer, book tucked under his arm.

“Ah, uh, not really,” you reply sheepishly. You can’t disclose the true reason for your state; you’ve never been the best liar either.

“Well, I hope whatever is troubling you passes soon,” he says and holds out his dirty dishes.

“You could’ve left them on the table,” you say, grabbing them from his grasp. Your fingers touch his, and it’s difficult not to feel like a silly teenager in the movies, especially with your current predicament.

“I know,” he smiles, “but I wanted to tell you bye, and you seem busy.”

You set the items in the sink before addressing him again. “Still… But thank you anyway.”

“The drink was great, as always.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he says, slowly stepping away from the counter.

You smile, nodding. “See you.”

His eyes linger on you before he turns and exits your café.

Wednesday

Wonwoo comes and goes as usual. It’s a busy night and you’re unable to speak to him much. It’s not the first time that has happened, so he doesn’t seem bothered by the lack of interaction. Regardless, you wish you could’ve spoken to him more.

That night was spent browsing the internet for the perfect gift for Wonwoo.

From gaming headsets to the top-rated books on Goodreads, you felt like you scoured every possible present for him. But none of them satisfied you.

It wasn’t until you came across bookmarks in your recommended section that you decided what to get him.

Maybe a bookmark was too boring, but you figured it was the safer option.

You spend over an hour searching for the right bookmark, but again, you come up short. They’re either too flowery, too plain, or too cliché.

In the end, you opt for making your own.

You find some DIY bookmark kits online and place an order. Trying not to second guess your decision, you call it a night—going to sleep as you brainstorm what to put on the item.

Thursday

“Do people actually read these books?” Wonwoo asks during your break, which you decided to spend with him.

Your gaze follows his to the wall lined with several bookshelves.

You chuckle, “Sometimes.”

“You said you got these books donated?” he asks, recalling an earlier conversation you had when he was a newcomer.

“Most of them,” you hum.

“Does your offer still stand?” he asks.

You turn to him with puzzlement.

He smiles. “You said I could take a book if I left one.”

“Oh,” you laugh out of embarrassment for forgetting. “Of course.”

Wonwoo nods and then stands up. He takes two steps to his right, then carefully plucks a book from a high shelf. He replaces the empty space with his own book.

Something about the simple act has your heartwarming. Or maybe it’s the way he’s so gentle with the books as if they’ll cry if moved too aggressively. You wonder if he’d touch you as carefully, if given the chance. Would you find comfort in his caresses the way you think the books would if they were personified?

Wonwoo sits in his seat again, perching his glasses higher after they slide down.

“Have you read this?” he asks, twisting the book so the cover faces you.

You analyze it for a moment, but the title doesn’t ring a bell.

Shaking your head, “Unfortunately not. I haven’t had the chance to read in a long while.”

“I guess running a business is time-consuming,” he teases lightly.

“How do you find the time? Didn’t you say your work is hard, too?” you ask.

He leans back in his seat, book resting in his lap.

“I make time,” he simply says. “I found it’s important to make time for things I care about.”

He’s staring at you in a way that makes you think there’s more to his words than he lets on.

“T-That’s a good habit, I suppose,” you say.

“When was the last time you did something for yourself, and not the café?” he questions.

Your brows furrow in deep thought. You thought the answer would come easily, but it doesn’t.

“I—I can’t remember,” you answer with your gaze down, a little dejected at the self-reflection.

Wonwoo sits up and leans toward you. He lowers himself until he can snag eye contact.

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself,” he reassures. “I know what it’s like to bury myself in my work.”

“You probably think I’m pathetic, huh?” you laugh awkwardly.

Wonwoo shakes his head.

“It’s good to be dedicated to something. Your efforts are clearly visible,” he gestures to your crowded café. “But at the same time, it’s also good to not burn yourself out.”

You nod in agreement. “I’ll try to be better.”

“Not for me though. For you,” he says.

You offer him a kind smile that he returns. “For me.”

Friday

Wonwoo doesn’t come at his usual time.

You finally finished his gift last night and are eager to show it to him. You try to suppress your excitement, but it’s difficult to calm your mix of emotions.

As you made it, you realized it was the first time doing something non-work related. Usually, you’d be researching new recipes, doing finances, or simply sleeping. Last night, however, you were doing something personal.

Wonwoo’s words from yesterday ring loudly in your ears.

It felt good to take a break from work.

It felt good to feel like an actual person and not some workaholic machine.

Some say people come into your life for a reason. Maybe you’d still be stuck in your cycle, if not for him.

You wish he were here. 

Wonwoo’s usually a punctual man, so being this late sends uneasy nerves coursing through you. But, the idea of him not showing up at all is even more worrisome. 

Perhaps he’s working overtime and will be here soon. He’s never missed a day.

Yet, as minutes turn into hours, you begin losing hope.

Excitement transitions into worry. This isn’t his typical behavior. You don’t have a way to contact him either.

Is he hurt? Does he need help? Did you say something wrong yesterday? Did he finally decide he doesn’t like your café anymore?

Perhaps you’re too caught up with giving him your gift that you’re overreacting. It could simply be a late, late night at work for him.

He’ll be here.

Even if he just grabs his drink to go, which he’s done in the past, he’ll be here.

The bell chimes as your last coworker leaves for the night.

Wonwoo’s present sat abandoned in your locker throughout your shift. There’s an odd discomfort in your chest as you stare at it now. 

You’re not sure if it originates from being unable to gift it and see Wonwoo’s reaction, or if it’s because he never showed up.

Probably a combination of both, but more so the latter.

It’s uncanny to not see Wonwoo every day.

You had never thought about how you’d feel if you didn’t see him constantly. He was just always there. Always so reliable that you didn’t feel the need to consider what if.

What if he stopped showing up? What if you never saw him again? What if he no longer was a constant in your life?

You swallow the lump forming in your throat.

It’s a harsh reality to know he’s not required to visit. He can leave any time he wants. He can stop visiting your bookstore café at any moment.

There’s a strange thought about you not being good enough for him. Though, you’re not sure what that has anything to do with his absence.

Why would it matter if you weren’t good enough for him? He didn’t come to the café for you.

Did he?

If it was you he wanted, couldn’t he ask you out? Perhaps not as a romantic date, but as friends?

He never has, so he must not want to know you beyond the café. Meaning, he doesn’t come to it solely for you.

But, what changed for him not to show up tonight?

Unsettled with your thoughts, you decide to distract yourself with the final tasks you have to do before you leave.

However, the ride home is filled with more endless thoughts about Wonwoo.

Saturday

You come to work with less bounce in your step than usual.

The world outside seems dimmer. It feels as if the skies are going to be consumed with clouds and rain is going to fall. However, a storm was not in the weather’s forecast.

“Are you getting sick?” Sebastian asks.

You force a smile onto your face for the customer in front of you, handing them their order before looking at your coworker.

“No, why?” you wonder.

“You don’t seem well. Did you not sleep well last night?”

You wish you had, but you tossed and turned constantly. You didn’t think Wonwoo’s absence would affect you so much, but your mind kept wandering to every possibility for his no-show. In the end, you just gave yourself a headache.

“No,” you sigh, “but don’t worry about me.”

You try to smile again, but you’re sure Sebastian can see through it.

“Want me to close up tonight?” he offers.

“Don’t you have a big essay due tomorrow?” you question, remembering how stressed he sounded a few days ago.

“Yeah, but—”

“I’ll be fine,” you insist.

Huffing, he nods and grabs the cup from your hand. “Then go rest for a bit while I finish these orders.”

You purse your lips, contemplating arguing. In the end, you relent, moving to the backroom’s couch and plopping down.

You’ve been scrolling through your phone for ten minutes when you hear a familiar voice.

“Is Yn not here today?”

“Oh, she’s not feeling well, so she’s taking a break. Is there something wrong with our service?” Sebastian answers politely.

You shove your phone in your pocket and head to the door. There’s a small window that you peep out of.

You catch a glimpse of Wonwoo’s frown before he speaks again.

“No, everything’s fine. Will you tell her I hope she feels better?” he asks.

Sebastian nods slowly. Although you can’t see his face, you can see the cogs turn in his head.

“Oh! Ooh! You’re that guy.”

Wonwoo looks confused.

“I’m sorry?” Wonwoo replies.

“The guy that always comes in—”

Not trusting Sebastian to keep his matchmaking attempts at bay, you push through the door.

“Wonwoo,” you greet, trying not to seem too eager that he's here today even though you are.

Wonwoo’s eyes drift past Sebastian to see you. Instantly, his mouth begins to lift.

“Hey, you,” he says lightly, sweetly. “I heard you’re not feeling well.”

“Ah, I’m fine. Seb’s just overreacting.”

Sebastian narrows his eyes at you in a glare.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he scolds.

“I’ve rested enough,” you shoo with a hand.

“Ten minutes isn’t long enou—”

“Seb, do you mind attending to the customers behind Wonwoo?” you interject.

Sebastian eyes you before grumbling under his breath—something about you being stubborn—then greets the next customer.

You move down the counter to an empty space.

“What can I get you?” you ask Wonwoo.

He shakes his head. “Actually, I just wanted to talk today, if that’s okay. I won’t be long.”

You want to say he can take as much time as he wants, but you hold back.

Concern creeps from the shadows around you.

Is he going to tell you he’s leaving forever? Does he not like your drinks anymore? Did he find somewhere better? Someone better?

“O-Oh, yeah, okay,” you mumble and maneuver around the counter.

You lead Wonwoo to his usual corner, next to the window and the bookshelves. It’s a little quieter here.

You both take a seat from across each other.

You fidget in your seat, nerves making you angsty.

“Are you sure you feel okay?” he asks.

“Just tired, nothing to be worried about,” you smile.

Something in your chest warms at knowing he cares about your well-being.

“Hm. Alright,” he replies a little skeptically.

“Is everything okay with you?” You try to change the subject. “You didn’t come in yesterday.”

Your voice trails off, not wanting to show how concerned you were about his absence. However, Wonwoo can sense it regardless.

He smiles, though the small lift at the corner of his mouth tells you he’s amused with your attempt to hide your worry.

“Did you miss me?” he wonders.

Your eyes widen a bit. “I—Well. I just noticed you didn’t come because you always come, you know?”

He nods with a subtle smirk still on his lips, yet it fades after a few seconds.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come,” he apologizes sincerely. “One of my friends was in the hospital.”

Your heart drops and guilt kicks in. It’s not that you didn’t consider the possibility, but you had been more focused on him not liking you or the café.

“Goodness, I’m sorry to hear that. Are they okay?” you ask, frowning.

“He had to get surgery, but he’s fine. Just a little grumpy and whiny,” he chuckles.

You feel better hearing his small laughter.

“That’s better than being in pain, I guess,” you reply.

“Yes,” he concurs. He waits for a beat then continues, “I wanted to ask you a question.”

You tilt your head. 

A question. That sounds better than some statement about not seeing you again.

“Okay,” you say.

“When we last spoke, it was about you not having enough time for stuff outside of work,” he begins.

You nod to show you’re following but don’t cut in.

“Well, there’s this small event tomorrow. It’s nothing fancy, just some walking around. I wanted to know if you’d like to go with me?”

Your heart races as he speaks. You’re stumped for words. It’s as if you’ve subconsciously been waiting for this, but now that the time has come, you’re too nervous to answer.

“You can decline,” Wonwoo assures.

Although you’re anxious about the idea of meeting outside of the café, you don’t want to miss the opportunity.

“N-No! I mean, no, I don’t want to decline. What time? Where?” you hurriedly say before he can take back his offer.

He grins and holds out a small piece of paper.

You take it, turning it over to see scribbled numbers. You guess it’s his phone number.

“I can pick you up after work. You close early tomorrow, right?” he asks.

You nod, trying to hide your smile at him remembering your café hours. Though, since he visits frequently, you guess it shouldn’t be that surprising.

“Dress warm, okay?” he adds.

“Okay.”

Wonwoo stands from his seat, and you follow.

“Get some more rest tonight, Yn,” he says softly.

“Y-Yeah. I will,” you reply.

Although you’re no longer fretting over reasons for his no-show yesterday, you’ll be worrying about tomorrow now. Still, you’ll try to sleep—maybe even drink some tea or warm milk. You’ll try for him.

Sunday

Wonwoo comes to the café a few minutes before you close. He’s dressed in a fluffy hoodie layered with a light brown trench coat. He looks so…soft and warm.

Before you depart, you make a drink for each of you. He tries to pay but you profusely veto his offer.

The ride to the event is quiet except for the random music being played from his stereo. You’re unsure how long the ride is, but you don’t care. Even if you’re not speaking, it’s nice being with him in a new environment. It’s nice to see a different side of Wonwoo. And part of you hopes he likes seeing a different side of you too.

The event is free, but since donations are strongly encouraged, you and Wonwoo slip a few bills into the plastic reindeer before stepping onto the lit-up walkway.

People of all ages are enjoying the event. The walkway is wide enough to accommodate a couple of people at a time, but it’s still crowded. It forces you and Wonwoo to bump shoulders several times, and each time, you both apologize.

You notice a few minutes into the walk that he seems tenser than usual. You’re not sure of the reason, and he doesn’t seem inclined to disclose the answer.

You try to distract him by pointing out different features—from big blown-up Santas to mechanical reindeer moving up and down. However, it doesn’t seem too effective.

Wonwoo’s steps eventually begin to slow. He never comes to a complete stop, but with his slow speed, a lot of people pass by. Eventually, there’s a gap in the crowd and his body relaxes.

He must not be a fan of crowds.

“Can we sit for a bit?” you ask, not really needing to rest but there are picnic tables with fake candles on them nearby that are less crowded.

“Sure,” he says.

You guide him to an empty table and sit across from each other.

“Thank you for taking me here,” you smile while glancing around. “It’s so pretty.”

The area is filled with multitudes of holiday decor. There are so many lights strung that you don’t need streetlamps to see. It’s rather magical to see it all. It’s a shame you can’t see this all year round. But then again, it might lose its effect if you see it constantly.

“I’m glad you like it,” he replies.

His eyes drop to your hands clasped on the table. There’s a slight shiver in them.

Suddenly, his hands are covering yours—warmth instantly shooting up your arms from his touch. He says nothing as he rubs his thumbs along your cool skin.

You want to say something; however, it doesn’t feel like you have to, so you just stare at him, a small smile on your face while you bask in the warmth he’s providing.

“How does it feel?” he questions after a few minutes.

You open your mouth to say “good” and to thank him for taking away your coldness, but before you can, he speaks again.

“Getting out, I mean. How does it feel to get out of the café?”

“Oh.” Your face heats rapidly. Thank goodness for your slow reaction. “It’s refreshing.”

Wonwoo hums, nodding.

“Should we walk around again, or should we go? I don’t want you catching a cold,” he says.

“I’d like to see more if that’s okay,” you admit.

“It’s more than okay,” he reassures.

He starts to stand, but you grip his hands to stop him. He stares down at you bemused.

“I have something for you,” you explain.

He sits back down, hands leaving yours when you pull away to retrieve something from your bag.

It’s a small black box with a purple bow on it, albeit the decor is a little squished from being confined to your small bag.

“What’s this?” he asks and carefully brings the box nearby.

“Since you gave me a gift this week,” you say, referring to his tip on Monday, “I got you one as well.”

“You didn’t—”

“Need to? I know. But, I wanted to. And I worked hard on it, so accept it, please?” you say lightly so as to not sound too serious. 

He smiles and nods, lifting the lid.

Inside is the bookmark you made him. On the bookmark’s center is a cat with a game controller. It’s simple, but that’s the best you could do with your lack of drawing skills. Attached to the bookmark is a purple tassel.

“You made this?” Wonwoo asks in amazement.

“I’ll only admit to that if you like it,” you say out of nervousness.

Wonwoo laughs and glances at you. “I like it a lot.”

“Then yes, I made it.”

His gaze shifts to the item again, examining it closely for a bit. Then, he sets it back carefully in the box and puts it in his pocket.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly.

“Of course,” you smile.

You and Wonwoo walk around for twenty more minutes before you call it a night. Throughout the entire walk, he held your hand in his free pocket. The warmth from his body combined with his sheltered pocket made your hand clammy. You felt embarrassed at the fact, but Wonwoo refused to release his hold. Truthfully, you didn’t want to let go, but you also didn’t want him to be disgusted at the feeling.

Wonwoo drove you back to your café where your car was.

You tried to demand he stay in your car since he parked next to yours, but he still climbed out.

You stare at his eyes which are framed by his glasses; his cheeks are slightly rosy from the temperature. His dark hair dances softly in the wind. He looks so handsome.

Wonwoo leans forward and connects his lips ever so softly against your cheek. You have the urge to turn your face and capture his lips with yours, but you don’t.

There’s something romantic about going slow.

Wonwoo pulls back with a kind smile.

“You look beautiful tonight, Yn,” he whispers, breath ghosting your face.

You can’t stop the smile forming on your face even if you tried.

“And you look handsome,” you reply.

Wonwoo mirrors your grin.

“Get home safely, alright?” he instructs.

You nod. “You too.”

You unlock your car and climb inside.

Wonwoo lingers outside, watching with his hands in his pockets.

After starting your car and rolling down your window, you lean out and prop your head on your arm that’s resting on the edge.

He bends slightly to see you better, a small grin on his mouth. His face isn’t too close, but it’s closer than it should be for an average person. But, Wonwoo isn’t average.

He’s quiet for a while, and you take the time to observe his features again. Your heart is thumping loudly in your ears. The desire to kiss him resurfaces.

Maybe you’re starting to like Wonwoo. Not just because he’s attractive, kind, funny, and caring, but because he’s Wonwoo.

Wonwoo, who’s been a frequent customer at your café for months.

Wonwoo, who’s always been supportive and kind.

Wonwoo, who’s slowly capturing your heart.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks with a smile still on his face.

“Yeah,” you say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Because of Wonwoo, you’re always looking forward to the next day.

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

taglist: @musingsofananxiouspotato, @christinewithluv, @lockburn-castle, @iammisstora, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui

In story divider credit

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

#kvanity #kdiarynet #svt fluff #svt #svt fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo fluff #wonu fluff #wonu fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #svt wonwoo #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen oneshots #svt oneshots #seventeen fanfic fluff #svt fanfic fluff

[angelltheninth]

Nsfw degradation with Leona Kingscholar?

He'd be so good at it too.

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, degradation kink, power imbalance, clamming bites, dom!Leona, sub!Reader

Word count: 0.6k

A/N: I can't wait for the anime, I think people will either love him or hate him.

You knew the reason behind the soon to be King summoning you into his bedroom. It was the same as any other night, his face holding the same smile and his eyes full of lust. He was already hard which left you thinking how long he'd been touching himself before he asked for you.

You never needed to ask what he wanted, it was always your body, your voice, your company. It was flattering in a way that out of everyone he always asked for you. At this point why wouldn't he? You were clearly highly compatible and you were all too happy to lay in his soft bed and spread your legs in invitation.

"Ah you couldn't wait to get my cock in you could you, slut?" He barked out in cocky laughter while sliding in. "This pussy must have been very lonely without me. But it's what you get for touching yourself without my permission. Did those other ladies tell you how hard I fucked them? Didn't you wish it was you?"

You moaned as he began moving in and out, the loud smacking sounds beginning to echo in the room. "I won't do it again. I promise I'll be good from now on."

"I don't think a little slut like you can keep her hands to herself." Leona let his tail pass over your hip, the soft fluff tickling you and making you wiggle your hips. He pushed forward, cock throbbing against your inner walls. "Think I'll have to make sure you have no reason to touch yourself." He grinned, showing his sharp fangs to you, "Even better I'll fuck you so hard that your won't be able to take being touched afterwards."

Your legs wrapped around his hips, locked around him to pull him closer. Leona licked across your neck, a gesture you've caught him doing before when he was about to hit his peak. But this time was a little different then others, his fangs started pushing against your neck and before you could question him you felt them pierce skin, delivering bolt of pain.

Moments later a new feeling hit, just as intense.

In your confusion you almost didn't notice that he was till fucking you, still driving his cock deep into your cunt, hammering at your inner walls until they started pulsing around him. Your hips jolted upwards uncontrollably as you left your own mark on him, the deep scratches of your nails across his back.

"You belong to me now. I'm the only one who gets to enjoy this pretty body of yours from now on. Do you understand what that means for you?" He pulled out fast, his cum dripping from your pussy, his cock completely covered in the sticky white fluid. He sat back and leaned on his hands, looking at you with expectance. When you didn't seem to get it he pointed down to his still hard cock. "It means you do what I say, when I say it, and in return I'll fuck you until you go stupid from my cock."

His hand wrapped around your ankle and pulled you down towards him. "Does that mean you won't call other women anymore?" Your heart dared to flutter with the hope of being his only woman from now on.

"That depends on how good of a job you do. Or are you so selfish that you'd leave your future King unsatisfied?" Leona taunted and watched as your haze seemed to clear quit fast after that. You scrambled to sit in his lap, "You'll make for such a pretty fucktoy." He praised and lifted his hands to cup your tits, lightly massaging them.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and aligned with his cock, teasing yourself with it's tip. "I'll be anything you want. I'll be all yours." Leona's eyes locked onto the bitemark, he smirked as if knowing something he wasn't yet letting on. Whatever it was it could wait until you milked every drop of cum out of his hard cock.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #twisted wonderland imagine #twst imagines #leona x reader #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst fanfic #leona kingscholar imagine #leona kingscholar fanfic #leona kingscholar x female reader #twst x you #twst x female reader #twisted wonderland x female reader #smut drabble

[romanoffsbish]

Double the Trouble

Yelena Belova x F!R (Platonic / Focus)

Natasha x F!R / Wanda x Yelena (Romantic)

Warnings: Drugs (Weed) | Alcohol Referenced

When your girls are off to save the day, you and Yelena have plans to stay and play. | WC: 1,852

Behave; this is what your girlfriends said when they left for their mission this morning, it was offensive and truth be told, only likely to warrant the opposite.

Who were they to tell you what you and Yelena should do? They being Wanda and Natasha, who lived their life off of some moral code, whereas you two didn't.

Quite the contrary really, at your cores you two were on the right side but you both also craved mischief.

To behave is to concede, and you two were far too stubborn to; to see their intentions weren't malicious.

——

Which is why neither of you listened to your lover.

There was a distinct odor to the room, bouncing off the cement walls of your garage that was decorated to look like a lounge. In one corner sat a record player that currently spun a random vinyl of Natasha's to fill the otherwise quiet space. An unlikely find when the both of you were usually in the same room together, but you were rather preoccupied and the blonde was irritated.

"Cyka," Yelena groaned, "stop hogging the blunt!"

You smirked around the damp filter, rolled your eyes then continued on, sucking on the burning stick until the smoke circling your chest sufficed you enough to allow Yelena a turn. "I am not giving this back."

"Whatever," you chuckled as you pulled another joint from the pile you'd spent an entire hour rolling. To be honest there was no reason to share the blunt, but in your sober state you'd deemed it the cautious play.

Now though, with the weed already infiltrating your mind you decided to throw all caution to the wind and sparked up another in mere seconds of losing the last.

The lack of conversation was no longer a concern, the tense atmosphere gone as you both settled into your highs... "Do you think babies can understand us?"

You snorted harshly, nearly choking on the inhale you just took in but you somehow managed to turn the cough into a burning sensation instead. "What?!"

"Listen to me Y/N Y/L/N!" Yelena pointlessly shouted, your attention was already on her. "What if when we are born we have the ability to just understand? Like, maybe our soul is still attached to our old lives?"

You hummed, "interesting," then took a final hit before putting the nearly finished blunt out so you could shift to face the blonde, with the amusingly low tolerance.

Yelena pouted, her signature expression. "What?"

"Oh, it's nothing serious Lena, it's just—I didn't really peg you for the type to believe in reincarnation."

"I don't fully," she replied with furrowed brows, and pursed lips, "I think old souls live in us momentarily before they leave to their afterlife. Leaving only a small part of themselves behind so we can be individuals."

You nodded, though you didn't quite see it the same.

"I think the ones that look like old people understand us—like, a two month old fella with hella wrinkles."

Yelena cackled, "Oh no, those babies are so ugly!"

You slapped her shoulder that had jerked off the couch with just how intensely her amusement had flowed.

"Hey, they need time to grow into their features!" You shook your head, "You can't call a baby ugly, asshole!"

"I did," Yelena flatly replied as she took another drag, smoke following her next words, "and I always will."

You looked at her astonished and she shrugged her shoulders. "What? You Americans need to face the cold hard truth, not everyone thinks your living, breathing potato looks cute. Some babies are ugly, it is simple."

You huffed, "but they're just babies, you can't—."

"Why can you call adults ugly?" Yelena cut you off.

"I don't," you groaned and she laughed, "Y/N, you literally told Bruce he was uglier than a pile of shit."

"That's different," you whined, "he flirted with Nat."

"Potato, po-tato, either way babies can be ugly."

"But-."

"Move on, I have more thoughts to explore."

"Are they all offensive?"

Yelena smirked. "Oh, most definitely..."

"Then I'll need another one of these," you concluded, one hand rubbed at your temples while the other reached for a packed joint. "Give me one too, cyka."

You passed the blonde another one then moved off of your bean bag so that you could lay on the furry rug. A shiver ran down your spine as the cold material rubbed against your bare arms where goosebumps rose. You giggled as you released a cloud of smoke and peered up at your pouting best friend. "Why so glum, chum?"

Another giggle left you as she grunted and dropped to sit down beside you, her legs crossed over one another. A rough hand gently caressed your cheek but you knew better than to trust the moment to remain sweet. In less than a seconds time she squished your cheeks and laughed maniacally as you struggled in her grasp.

"I hate you," you spat, words slurred as she hadn't let go yet. Once she did you continued to bitterly rant on, tone full of faux resentment, "I don't know why I even put up with you Belova. Wanda must be a saint."

"Because my bud is premium," she deadpanned, then her lips upturned softly. "And I'm your best friend."

You grinned then sighed, reluctant to admit, "You are."

"Come on," she shook your shoulders as she jumped to her feet. "We cannot let the weed slumber kick in yet!"

Reluctantly, you stood to your feet and wobbled over to the blonde who was stood waiting by your foldable table. Just like every time before you faced her and settled your elbow down on your side of the table.

"I am tired," you grumbled but the blonde didn't care. Her jacket was shrugged off and her hand linked with yours. "We have to be stronger than the weed loser."

"But why?" You exasperated, hand slamming hers into the table in the heat of the moment. "Oh my god!!!"

"No," Yelena immediately negated, "I wasn't ready."

"I don't care," you squealed and did a lap around the couch to release your excitement. "I finally won!"

Yelena shook her head, afraid of what you were about to say. "I get to pick your wedding entry song!!!"

"No," she growled, knowing damn well what this likely entailed. Your love for jokes superseded your loyalty.

A fight ensued as you turned the record player off and spoke, "Hey Siri, play my Yelena's entrance playlist."

"Y/N, I swear to god," she groaned, her arm swung out to swat your phone from your hand as a universally familiar tune played—clown music, how funny; not.

Yelena chased a giggling you around the room for several minutes before you started to slow down. Giving her the perfect opportunity to tackle you onto the same carpet she forced you to vacate earlier.

"Say sike right now or I will do it," Yelena threatened, her hands par curled beside your sides, you gulped knowing exactly how ruthless of a tickler she was.

"Hey siri," you squeaked, "play Lena's wedding song."

Yelena's eyes widened as she recognized the familiar tune of her favorite song, American Pie, but it was not the exact same. Instead it was void of the usual lyrics, slowed down on a piano alone and pitched upwards.

It brought tears to the blonde's eyes and she dropped to the floor beside you with a warm smile. "I hate you."

"I hate you too," you yawned, lips smacking almost dramatically as the cotton mouth hit you full force.

In contrast to the both of your baseless words you didn't let go of the blonde, you actually only held on tighter and she cuddled up to you as well, as sleep consumed the both of your drugged up minds entirely.

—

On a bed, only a city over sat your fiancé with a hand on her stomach as she came down from her laughter. Wanda was on the bed beside hers in a similar state.

"Do you think she'll call our baby ugly?"

Natasha smirked. "Oh, most definitely..."

"Shut up," the witch groaned then averted her gaze back to the screen where the tomfoolery took place.

"Do you think they'll be mad when they find out?"

Natasha blinked away her tears of amusement and shrugged, this was truly their favorite past time. Every month, without fail, the women announce an overnight mission knowing you and Yelena would use that time to unwind together with your favorite substances.

Most of the time you two smoked weed, but on the rare occasion, her birthday, Yelena could convince you to down a bottle or two of pure vodka. Those times were usually under semi-supervision though. The one time Natasha or Wanda didn't they found the both of you passed out on the rooftop in clothes bigger than you.

No explanations were given, and quite frankly they preferred not knowing. Fortunately weed slowed the two of you down more than anything, so for a few hours they'd get endless laughs before you succumbed to the glorious sleep that always follows a dank sesh.

"Honestly, I think they know us enough to expect this. Y/N's even hinted to me that she knows, but this is harmless and helpful since they respect us too much to engage in their nefarious activities when we are there."

Wanda smiled, feeling more confident as she settled back into the plush pillow that lined the hotel bed. It was foreign to her to experience such comfort when Yelena insisted on hogging the pillows so that the witch had no other choice but to use her chest as a cushion.

Normal partners just ask to cuddle, but Yelena says, "I'm pretty sure I have scoliosis, I need them," and yanks the brunette into her embrace without fail.

With the two of you in your weed induced slumber the witch found herself near the same outcome. Then as if annoying others ran in the family, Natasha spoke tension into the peaceful air, "But since you lost our bet, and will be playing these clips at your wedding reception next month Lena will most definitely make you sleep on the hotel couch on your honeymoon."

"I hate you," Wanda groaned and threw her pillow at the smirking redhead who caught it with ease. "And yet you're signing on for a life of being my sister in law."

Natasha winked then laid the witches pillow beneath her head, "thanks for the extra cushion, I needed it."

Wanda fell back on her mattress with a sigh, "Cyka." Then a soft smile followed as she felt warmth in her chest at the reminder that she had a family, again.

Natasha flipped her off, but as she laid on her side with her phone propped on the stolen pillow she smiled just the same. Yelena was cuddled into your side and you unconsciously held her with such care that it made the redhead thankful as she reminisced your relationship.

This was all she ever wanted, her little found family.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff blurb #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader #gxg #natasha x reader #yelena belova #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff fluff

[talesofesther]

what once was mine | ch 3

Loki x Reader

Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: We're finally heading into the main plot I think lol. Hope y'all like this one, let me know. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 2 here

"Casey!" You called, hurriedly walking between the rows of files while looking down at the paperwork in your hands. TVA's library was either your favorite place or the place you hated the most. No in-between. It was your favorite when you stopped by to lounge in the armchairs and read your books in the calming silence. But when you had to traverse between the cramped shelves in search of files, that's when you hated it.

"Casey?" You called again, still turning the pages with a frown on your face.

"Yeah, what's up?"

The sudden voice caught your attention and you raised your head just in time to not walk straight into your friend. You chuckled to yourself, coming to stand beside him in the small space between the tall shelves. "I was going through this report and it mentions a code 581, I've never heard that one before." With your finger, you pointed to the underlined letters on the report.

"Oh, that's a fun one," Casey smiled, taking the papers from your hands, "it's kind of a rare case actually, it's when two variants appear simultaneously…"

While you spoke with Casey, all the way on the other side of TVA's weirdly shaped building, and one floor above, stood Mobius with Loki by his side; both of them leaning on the railings and observing you from afar.

"How long did you say she's been here?" Loki asked, his eyes never leaving your form. His face had a complicated expression, almost as if he was still figuring out how to feel about actually seeing you, the same girl from the life he was supposed to have.

"I didn't, I said that time passes differently here in the TVA," Mobius spoke beside him, his eyes slowly shifting between you and Loki. "But, if I had to guess I'd say the equivalent of around two years."

It's been a couple of weeks since Loki arrived, and in his time here he's been quite helpful for the TVA; not enough to catch the rogue variant, but enough to earn his end of the bargain.

"Is it a habit of yours to keep variants around then?" Loki turned to Mobius with a raised brow.

"Not at all," Mobius chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "You two are the only ones so far, and you can thank me for that, by the way."

Loki pursed his lips as he shifted his gaze back to you. He watched as you spoke with Casey, huge smile on your lips as you gestured around saying something he couldn't understand. "Why keep her?" He asked quietly.

Mobius sighed, following the path of Loki's gaze toward you. "Same reason as you, pretty much. She was very... familiar with the Loki from her timeline and I figured she could be of help to us. At first, she was a very tough nut to crack, but it was either that or be pruned so eventually, she agreed, and has helped capture many Loki variants in her time here."

A scoff went past Loki's lips. His hands gripped the railings tighter, heartbeat quickening with each passing second that brought him closer to meeting you. Why he felt this way, he couldn't tell; it was as if his body knew something he didn't. "And, by her timeline, you mean my timeline as well?"

"Technically, yes."

─── ·❆· ───

"Thank you, Casey, I'll see you at lunch," you gave your friend a small wave as you turned to go in opposite directions. The ghost of a smile lingered on your lips as you closed the file's folder, but it faded immediately as soon as you looked up.

Mobius stood in front of you, he said your name but it sounded like a whisper drowned underwater to your ears, for you were focused on the person a few steps behind him. He had the same raven black curls, the same sharp nose, fair skin, and bright eyes; his features being highlighted by the artificial lights from TVA's infinite floors. He was a ghost. The one from your worst nightmares and most beautiful dreams. A ghost of your past life, one that instantly got your heartbeat skyrocketing and closed up your throat until you couldn't breathe, or talk, or even think.

You were nearly making holes into the file in your hands with the force you held it with, knuckles going white.

Taking a step closer, Mobius called your name again. He tried reaching out towards you but you took a sharp step back. "There's someone who would like to meet you," he settled for saying, calmly, gesturing behind him.

Forming words became a struggle for you. Your lips parted only to tremble with no sound coming from your mouth. Inhaling sharply, you straightened your posture. "No." You said with finality, your eyes not leaving the ones that reminded you of your Loki.

A frown appeared on his features and he looked like he was about to speak, but you beat him to it, finally looking at Mobius; "You. Me. Storage room, now."

With that, you turned around and took urgent steps to the back of the library, shoving open the door that led to a small storage room for older files no one needed anymore. You turned the switch for the single orange light hanging from the ceiling and then clawed at your scalp, trying your best to regulate your breathing.

Mobius walked in, closing the door behind him. "Listen I can-"

"Explain?" You finished for him, urgency and anger dripping from each syllable, "yeah, you better. What was that? Who is he?"

"We were about to get to that before you stormed off." Mobius shrugged.

"Cut the bullshit, Mobius," you sighed, hands coming to rest on your waist.

"He's a Loki, you've met a hundred of them already."

You bit your lip to hold back the tears stinging behind your eyes. "Yeah, I have, and none of them were-" you hesitated, "None of them looked like-" You swore under your breath when your voice betrayed you.

"Your Loki?"

Mobius' quiet words got you closing your eyes, there was compassion in his voice, being one of the only people here who really knew what you've been through. A long sigh escaped your lips, along with some of the anger, leaving room only for the emptiness that has been following you around for years now.

"Is he?" You were afraid to know, but you asked anyway.

"He was going to be," Mobius took a step closer to you, and this time you allowed him to rest a hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your dress shirt. "He came from your timeline, roughly after his attempt at taking over earth."

An unamused chuckle escaped your lips and a single tear ran down your cheek, but you were quick to wipe it away. "Jesus, Mobius. You can't be serious." You looked him straight in the eyes then, voice strained; "you can't be doing this to me."

"He insisted," Mobius raised both hands in front of his chest in a halfhearted attempt to calm you down. "He insisted, okay? He saw you in his file, he wanted to know who you were. What was I supposed to do? He saw you and didn't know who you were but it was clear that you were important, and he felt that too."

A beat of silence passed, and then; "I mean," Mobius chuckled softly, shaking his head; "you should have seen his eyes when he saw you, he looked worse than you do now."

You sniffled, avoiding your teary eyes from his gaze. "What were you supposed to do? Well, what about talking to me first, you oaf," you told him, though there was no malice in your words.

"I'm sorry," Mobius shrugged, not sure of what else he could say to you. "I just figured it wouldn't be fair to either of you if I didn't introduce you. Or, reintroduced you."

You doubted you'd be able to form a coherent thought in your mind right now with the amount of emotions you were going through. But you knew he was right, deep down you did. You just weren't sure what to make of it yet, seeing a Loki who would eventually become your Loki; who, essentially, was your Loki. Just not yet.

It nearly sent you into a panic attack. Seeing him again was all you ever wanted when you lost him, yet now that it's happening, you're not sure if you can handle it. Or if you still want it.

Mobius tried to find your gaze with his, and as if reading your mind, he said; "Isn't this what you wanted when you first got here? To see him again?"

"That's not me anymore, Mobius," you spoke before you could stop yourself. "I'm- I'm not that person anymore." Your voice was quiet, muffled behind the walls you'd built around your wounded heart. "Besides, that's-" You stumbled over your words, tasting your tears on the corner of your lips, "that's not him. That's not the Loki I knew."

"How can you say that, you didn't even speak to the guy," Mobius gestured to Loki's general direction outside of the storage room.

"Yeah well, I don't have to!" You snapped, and closed your mouth soon after, mumbling an apology. "I just- He's not him," you said quieter, almost as if saying it again and again would make it true.

"Maybe not yet," Mobius reasoned, pursing his lips as he mulled over unsaid words; "But he is, otherwise he wouldn't have seen his future with you. You know that."

You buried your hands in the pockets of your pants because you could feel how heavily they were shaking. You bit your lip until you tasted blood. "I can't. I'm sorry, Mobius, but I can't. You tell him I want nothing to do with him." The words rolled off your tongue quickly and strained, you didn't give Mobius time to answer you before you were shoving open the door of the storage room and rushing outside.

From the side of your eyes, as you walked, you noticed Loki leaning against one of the file shelves. He perked up when he saw you, straightening his posture and softening his gaze as he took half a step towards you.

You didn't spare him a second glance before turning your back to him and hurrying to the opposite way.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 4 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Loki’s taglist: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @justaproudslytherpuff @justanotherkpopstanlol @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @lokihaha34 @levanneisdumb @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism @athenasproverbs @h-l-vlovesvintage @princess-ofthe-pages @daisy-the-quake @talesofadragon @rainbowsocks @alexandra-001 @mary-jinx @stevenknightmarc @falconxsoldier @ladymercury8 @shirukitsune @ladymischief11 @starkzdaughter

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki #marvel #loki series #loki x you #marvel x reader #loki x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #what once was mine #loki fanfic #my story #loki laufeyson x reader

[randoimago]

Headcanons of Peter B. Parker, Miguel, The Spot, and Hobie have a crush on an oblivious reader?

Crushing on an Oblivious Reader

Fandom: Spiderverse

Character(s): Hobie, Peter B. Parker, Miguel, The Spot

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): God I love the idea of these specific people having a crush on an oblivious reader because I feel like it's just chaos no matter where you look. All of them are v dramatic for different reasons tho

Hobie

Oh he finds your oblivious to be very amusing. At first, he thought you were ignoring his advances to spite him for some reason (which he'd respect it). But then he just realizes that you don't get it.

Honestly, not too surprising you don't pick up on his advances. He doesn't do things the typical way. Flowers? Chocolates? Like hell he'd contribute to capitalism to flirt with you. He also doesn't really flirt with you with the standard "your eyes are pretty" "you look cute today" yeah no. It's definitely "hey, let's go to this protest and shout ACAB at any cops that walk by"

The most "romantic" (he doesn't believe in romance) thing he does is play his guitar for you. Even then it's lots of loud noises but he throws all of his emotions into it so that's something.

Miguel

Considering he doesn't even try to make it obvious that he likes you, it's no wonder you haven't realized. Hardly anyone knows that he's even "flirting" with you (making you 'employee of the month' isn't flirting, it does make Lego Spider-Man suspicious tho).

He's nicer to you than others, but that's something that even he is oblivious to and if Lyla or Peter mentions it then he denies as a defense mechanism. You deny it because you really don't see it.

The funny thing is, Lyla has gone behind his back to send you cute messages and stuff from his email but even those you don't get (and he doesn't know she does it) so now she's getting frustrated on his behalf.

Peter

He is gradually going insane with how you're not picking up on his advances. He's given you flowers, chocolates, he's said really dumb dad jokes to leave a smile on your face. But if anyone mentions your relationship it's always, "Yeah he's a good friend!" and he dies inside.

Has gone to Miles and Gwen for help. He can't believe he resorted to asking teenagers for help hitting on you and he can't believe he's trying to follow their ideas. (he mentioned looking up "how to flirt" and when the word "thicc" left his mouth, it caused an uproar)

Honestly wanted to get the sweatpants out and brood because maybe if he looks like a sad hobo then you'll give him attention. His doctor told him he'd die without your attention so please notice him before he goes bald.

Spot

Does not know how to flirt so your obliviousness is both understandable and killing him because he's trying. He's trying so hard and it's so pathetic. Especially because when he fails with his flirts, the self-consciousness kicks in and then he's just sad.

His words are stutters, he has tried to steal you flowers only for one of his spots to grab a cactus instead (which he ended up pricking himself with and now needs tweezers). Wanted to win you a teddy bear at a carnival cause that's cute, right? But he can't find a damn dimension with a carnival! (unless you count the spider society cause they're a whole circus)

Would probably just end up so dejected because he's tried so hard and has finally chalked it up to you not getting his advances because you don't want to. Why would you even like someone covered in spots like him? You trying to comfort him doesn't really help either. Maybe he'll sadly confess to you, maybe he'll die alone, who knows at this point.

#tw arachnophobia #arachnophobia tw #spiderverse x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #peter b parker x reader #hobie brown x reader #the spot x reader #jonathan ohnn x reader

[gingiesworld]

Obsessions (2/?)

Wanda Maximoff x Rogers Fem Reader

Warnings: Angst. Smut. Toxic Wanda.

AN: Ok, it seems it may be longer than just two parts :) I am just too invested in this arc between the two of them.

Taglist: @sytoran @ginnsbaker @gb12d @lifespectator

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

18+ MINORS DNI

Y/N had thought she had managed to leave Wanda behind, but Wanda had other plans. She had recieved scholarships from other schools, even Ivy league schools but she chose to go to NYU.

"Why are you doing this Wanda?" Pietro asked as he packed his things before heading out to LA.

"NYU is a great school. It has an amazing drama programme." She feigned as her twin saw right through her.

"If you were going to patch things up with Y/N then I would understand but." He sighed as he stared at his twin. "Y/N has been through a lot, and she never had anyone when she needed them. She never had you."

"Well she is a big girl." Wanda spat before she headed towards his bedroom door.

"What happened to you Wanda?" He questioned, she paused without turning to face him as he continued. "You used to be so selfless, kind and caring, now you're just like every superficial girl who will inevitably be alone." She shook her head as her eyes filled with tears as she slammed his bedroom door shut, heading straight to her own as she watched Y/N from her window.

"I can't believe my baby is leaving me." Peggy smiled as she brought out some fresh homemade lemonade as Y/N worked on the car.

"I know but I need you to promise me you will look after her." Y/N pleaded with her as she took the cold glass. "I can't take her with me because it's pointless with the traffic in New York but I will be getting the train back here every Friday too."

"I will look after her." Peggy told her. "If you want, I can just use your car through the week."

"No." Y/N whispered as she looked at the car, knowing that Peggy would be too hard on the breaks. "Maybe I should just give up on college and get a job."

"No." Peggy told her sternly. "I will warm the engine up everyday, Uncle Bucky will change the oil on the dates you've marked, and you will go to college. Become an Illustrator and make your father proud."

"I miss him." Y/N whispered as Peggy gave her a sad smile.

"He would be so proud of the woman you have become." Peggy cupped her cheek before giving it a pinch making Y/N laugh lightly. But once she heard that Wanda was heading to NYU, she was second guessing going.

"We will have different classes so I most likely won't see her." Y/N reasoned as she and Pietro through the football back and forth. "NYU is a big school and we may be in different dorms too."

"I really admire thr optimism Y/N." He smirked as Y/N shrugged.

"It's either that or don't go at all." She told him. "And my mom wants me to go."

"Well then go. Don't let my sister stop you from following your dreams." He told her with a gentle smile.

"Thanks P." She said sincerely as she caught the ball. "Go long." She told him as she threw the ball, watching as Pietro ran down the field and caught. The two cheered goofily before the collapsed beside each other.

The move to New York was something, the bustling halls of the dorms as Y/N found her own room. Seeing a red head on the other bed, reading a book.

"Hey." Y/N greeted her shyly.

"Hi." She beamed as she sat up. "You must be Y/N. I'm Natasha." The two started to get to know each other as they decorated Y/N's side of the dorm. Not realising that the person she wanted to avoid so much was only behind the wall.

Wanda was setting up her room as a brunette walked in. Smiling softly before she turned to her roommate.

"I'm Wanda." She introduced herself as she held her hand out.

"I'm Maria." She shook Wanda's hand. "I was just grabbing my purse." She turned to Wanda as she reached the door. "Do you want to join my friend and I at this new cafè?"

"Yeah. Let me just grab my coat." Wanda smiled as she put her coat back on. As Wanda was locking their door, Maria greeted her friend just outside.

"This is Y/N. Y/N this is Maria." Nat told her, Wanda soon turned to look at Y/N with a smirk.

"Fuck." Y/N muttered as Nat looked at her. "You know what, I'm actually feeling a little sick right now."

"You should lie down then." Nat told her as Y/N nodded.

"I will." Y/N bid her goodbye to Maria before disappearing inside the room, locking the door behind her.

As the weeks went by, she tried her hardest to avoid Wanda at any cost. Even if it meant waking up earlier and heading to the dining hall for breakfast before she sat outside the art class with her sketchbook and pencils.

As much as she loved to draw comics and sketches, she also loved to do landscapes and even do portraits. It was like a little side hobby.

"That's pretty." Wanda sneered as she leaned over Y/N's shoulder who just stopped her movements. Putting her things away before moving as far from Wanda as possible.

"Why are you following me?" She asked her ex friend who just shrugged.

"It's fun." Wanda smirked as she stepped closer until Y/N was backed up against the wall. "Besides, I haven't stopped thinking about you since prom night. Even as Jarvis was fucking me in the back of his car, I thought of you. Fucking me with your fingers." She held Y/N's hand and moved it to her lips, sucking on her fingers. "Then I would ride that strap I know you have hidden, while you are sucking and biting my nipples."

"Fuck you." Y/N spat as Wanda chuckled, watching as Y/N pushed passed her and headed to her building. Although a part of Wanda felt guilty, but she was too hopped on the adrenaline coursing through her veins to care.

That was the start of Wanda's claws slowly sinking in, even at the parties they were invited to, Wanda would watch Y/N's every move. Watching as she talked to other girls, but the one that urked her was Jean Grey. She was Wanda's rival in theatre and she hated her guts.

The feeling in her stomach grew more and more intense as she watched Jean laugh at something Y/N had said, touching her bicep as Wanda's gaze torn through them. What really got her was when she found the two kissing, well eating each other's face with Jean pressed up against the wall in the hall, so Wanda decided to walk passed and pretend to be drunk and bump into the two.

"What the fuck Wanda?!" Y/N yelled as she tried to wipe the alcohol from her jacket.

"Sorry." Wanda spoke with false sincerity. "I was just heading to the bathroom." With that she walked away as she heard Jean say she was going to find Scott. Soon enough Y/N pushed her into the nearest bathroom and Wanda up against the door.

"Why are you doing this?" Y/N asked her, anger was evident in her eyes and body language.

"No one else should get to kiss you." Wanda spat at her.

"I am not yours Wanda!" Y/N yelled as she wrapped her hand around Wanda's neck, squeezing lightly which caused her to whimper. Clenching her thighs at the simple action. "I was happy when we graduated because I thought I wouldn't need to see you again but you seem to have this obsession over me and I am fucking sick of it!"

"Please." Wanda whispered as she opened her eyes, gazing at Y/N through her eyelashes, her pupils blown with lust and desire. Her core aching with need, a need to be fucked mercilessly by Y/N. "I need it." She gripped Y/N's other hand and led it to between her thighs, sighing as she felt Y/N rub her clothed core. The arousal dripping as she thought of Y/N's fingers ruining her.

"You're pathetic." Y/N growled as she moved her underwear to the side, her lips ghosting Wanda's who moaned as Y/N licked her lips. Her fingers running through Wanda's soaked folds before finding her clit, rubbing circles which soon made Wanda's knees weak.

"I am." Wanda nodded as Y/N pushed two fingers inside of her gaping hole. Thrusting painfully slow as Y/N sighed against her lips. Her own core aching as she touched Wanda. Y/N had had a crush on her when they were friends, even after starting High School, she hated herself because she was still obsessed with the one person who broke her heart without even knowing it.

"Do you know how I have dreamt of this?" Y/N snarled as she went harder, adding another finger as Wanda whimpered as Y/N curled her fingers, finding her g spot with ease. "Four years. Although freshman and sophmore it was just an innocent crush but then you started to date Jarvis." Wanda moaned as Y/N kept her movements steady. "Then I wanted to ruin you. I wanted so bad to fuck you in the back of my car, on your bed and even on the field we used to go when we were younger, just to fuck you under the stars."

"Fuck." Wanda panted. "I need more."

"Tsk." Y/N shook their head no. "I am the one in control." Y/N removed her hands from Wanda before she could even cum. "And you will not cum. Not until I see fit." Y/N gripped Wanda's jaw as she gazed into her eyes. "You will not be the first girl that cums on these finger this year." Y/N ghosted her lips before speaking once more. "You left me when I needed you the most. You made my life hell so now you can suffer." She pulled away to wash her hands as Wanda stood there staring. "You won't be able to cum again, not when you know how my fingers feel, filling up your pussy." Y/N gave her a rough kiss as she pushed her against the wall beside the door, Wanda clenched around nothing at the force of Y/N. Her chest rising rapidly as she looked at herself in the mirror. This obsession can be the best thing or it can completely ruin the two of them, but she knows one things. She will be the first one to cum on Y/N's fingers, face and strap. She will be the first and the last if she has anything to do about it.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

[inhonoredglory]

A Wartime Footing: An Explanation for Aziraphale's Elevator Smile

(Based on an ask from @sabotage-on-mercury in response to my meta on why Aziraphale had to go to Heaven)

The creepy smile was one part of the ending I couldn't quite put my finger on either, until someone pointed out on a Twitter response to my meta:

The reason why its scary is bc azi is becoming properly angry at the system and is 101% determined to set things right (Source)

In season 1, Aziraphale was determined not to kill anyone to stop the Apocalypse. He wouldn't even tell Crowley where the Antichrist was, because Crowley's only solution was to kill him.

And because Crowley consistently didn't have any ideas ("not one single better idea??"), Aziraphale took it on himself to pursue the only option left––to ask God to intervene and stop both Heaven and Hell from destroying Earth. Therefore, Aziraphale had to keep the integrity of his angel status by distancing himself from Crowley, while the world was still in danger.

Despite this dedication avoid bloodshed, when God didn't have an answer, Aziraphale went against one of his core beliefs to help save the world. He was willing to murder a child.

For Aziraphale, that takes guts. And (seeing how he reacted at the end of the Job minisode), I wonder that if he had killed Adam Young, Aziraphale would have checked himself into Hell.

Going to Heaven for Aziraphale is ultimately a conscious choice, one that he is clearly afraid of. We see him constantly steeling himself again the Metatron in the end, covering his fear and hurt from losing Crowley with a placid smile and a flippant attitude. He's wearing so many masks, to Crowley, to himself, to the Metatron...

All season we've seen him playing roles (detective, magician, doctor, landlord). But the final role is warrior. Going up that elevator, we first see Aziraphale's eyes searching, worried, panicking, but unable to show it because he's not in a safe space. He swallows, blinks, he's breathing hard (you can see his entire shoulders rise and fall).

But as he goes up, his expression steels. He's quite literally putting on a mask (to himself): a vengeful, hardened expression of pure anger and rage (to drown out the fear and uncertainty he so clearly still has).

Michael Sheen conveying contained anger in both Good Omens and Masters of Sex.

Cuz this isn't just him scrambling to kill a kid, this is him walking calmly and knowingly into sacrificing everything he loves most (Crowley, the bookshop, his entire life on earth) to create a world that will always be safe for him and Crowley and humanity for the rest of time. Where he would have to go up against the most powerful angels, the Metatron, and God Themself to change things. He can't be the kind, sweet angel he was on Earth. That won't cut it in Heaven if he wants to make a difference in any real way.

He wanted to do it with Crowley, with the love and support and strength of his demon. But without him, Aziraphale has to channel something else to keep his resolve afloat.

Something he had when he was a warrior, fighting on the front lines of a battle between Heaven and Hell, when he very likely led a platoon into divine fields of bloodshed before the earth was born. When he was an avenging angel.

I haven’t done this since the Great War.

It was a time and an identity he had chosen to leave behind, because it wasn't the kind of angel he was anymore ("I'm not fighting in any war!"). In this context, you can read Aziraphale's passionate unwillingness to take a life (his pacifism) directly into his past experience as a warrior. It is often the veterans of terrible wars who are the most earnest advocates for peace. (And especially in Britain and Europe, where the violence of the world wars is still such a powerful and painful national memory.)

As he goes up the elevator, he's breathing so hard we can hear it mirrored in the soundtrack, and he is so hyperfocused on steeling himself that he doesn't even care that the Metatron is watching him. He doesn't rest until he's psyched himself into that warrior mindset necessary to carry out this mission entirely by himself, to be both the moral advocate and the uncompromising leader of angels who had intimidated him his entire life. To demand respect and to talk to the very face of God and tell Them they are Wrong.

(Please read this Neil-approved meta for further thoughts on God and Aziraphale.)

That creepy smile is clearly not there because Aziraphale is happy to fall into a toxic parent's false love. There's no comfort or wistful nostalgia in that face. There's no "it'll be so much nicer" in that smile. It's not a happy smile. It's an I'm-gonna-fuck-shit-up smile.

Because it's a warrior's smile before they go into battle, before they put on that armor and, for a while, become something they're not in the name of some greater good. He's fucking furious and it's downright frightening.

Because I have no doubt that the angel Aziraphale we get in Season 3 is the angel Aziraphale who can say this:

He's not quite there yet in the TV show. But this bravery, this anger, this flaming rage is how it starts.

Or as he's described in the book when Aziraphale mysteriously does away with the local mafia:

Just because you’re an angel doesn’t mean you have to be a fool.

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #aziraphale meta #aziraphale defense squad #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #go s2 meta #go meta #go s2 #michael sheen #book!aziraphale #*mine #*mymeta #made this a separate post cuz i dunno which version is better for reblogs #the side-by-side gifs kept crashing on me 😑 #anyway I love and adore defending our angel #but in no way am I taking sides #I'm just coming to his aid since he's getting so much flack rn