#but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense

[starry-bi-sky]

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.  

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 

It is a fast dream. 

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 

—---  

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom. 

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

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

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #amnesiac danyal al ghul au #songs in order of the album: the hartebeest / harpy hare / and the hound / neath the grove is a heart #musician danny has my heart and soul #yes this danyal IS an alternative danny from the other au. an au where things were a little better :) but still sucks #implied good mom talia al ghul #danyal is a momma's boy send tweet #dpxdc ficlet #dpxdc prompts #dp x dc au #dp x dc fanfic #danyal is sTILL five years older than damian in this au #no beta no edits we die like danny fenton #poc danny fentons #i didnt know where to end this :(( i was gonna go on but i blanked. i thought about going into his relationships with his rogues and so on. #but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense #ugh im gonna have forgotten to include things and im gonna be kicking myself later #morally ambiguous danny whoo! we love to see it #since this was just for fun it doesnt really go into it all that much other than like. it happens. and that danny realizes he's dangerous #phantom in a hazmat suit? nah phantom looking like an assassin >:]. #danyal al ghul with damian and his mom: 🥰🌸✨ #danyal al ghul with everyone else: 👹🔪 #am i heavily implying that clockwork had smth to do with Danyal’s amnesia and appearance by the cabin? 👀 maybe #not enough danyal al ghul aus where him being an assassin actually. has some kind of affect on him

[kiss-me-cill-me]

prof!crane x student!reader

they haven’t fucked in a while because of summer break or something and when they finally see each other again in college reader’s getting attention from a lot of guys and crane gets super jealous something along those lines, i just your imagination more than mine! <3

smut ofc ;)

thank u lovey 💌

Yesssss I love Professor!Crane and I love this idea hehe 👀 I decided to go with one really annoying guy giving reader attention instead of a bunch, because that's just the way the muse ended up taking me. Thank you for requesting, anon, and I hope you enjoy!!

Independent Variable

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: After you catch the eye of an unwanted admirer in Dr. Crane's class, your professor happily teaches you a lesson about just who you belong to.

Warnings: Smut, cockwarming, possessiveness, jealousy, harassment (not from Crane, but a pushy student in reader's class), okay Crane is kinda a jerk as well but like when is he not...

A/N: This fic is part of a series of oneshots set in the same AU. However, there is no real plot aside from Crane and the reader being horny, so you can read them in any order, skip around, etc.

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

You tossed a notebook onto your desk, and leaned back down to rustle through your bookbag, looking for a pen. As you did, you felt your dress ride up in the back, but made no move to adjust it.

“Hey,” said a voice behind you.

You shot up quickly and spun around, embarrassment flooding your cheeks at the thought of the unfamiliar man standing there, catching a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have. 

“Is this seat taken?”

Your shoulders relaxed as you got a real look at him. The student in front of you looked like he might have just rolled out of bed, despite the fact that this was a 2pm class. His eyes were half-lidded as he gestured at the seat next to you, and you shook your head with a small, friendly smile.

“No, go ahead,” you replied.

As you both settled into your seats, you reminded yourself to pay more attention to your surroundings. Your thoughts had been wandering, almost without noticing it, to your professor. 

Dr. Crane had been on your mind for the entirety of spring break, and being back in his class now was making it even harder to focus on anything else. 

You snuck a brief look at him now, sitting quietly at the front of the room. He was hunched over, grading a stack of papers while he waited for the rest of your classmates to trickle in. It had been only a little over a week since you’d last seen him - and he had given you quite an intimate send-off to make sure you kept him in mind over spring break. But, unfortunately for you, it had only made sure that you’d had nothing but Dr. Crane on your mind for the whole week. Rather than satisfy you, his extra attention only increased your desire. This was your final class of the day, and you’d made plans to see him right after, as you usually did.

“Hey, did you just transfer into this class?” asked the boy next to you. You swiveled around to face him, slumped in his seat and smiling at you. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“No, I’ve been here,” you said curtly, though trying not to let too much annoyance creep into your voice. You weren’t really interested in light conversation, but it wasn’t his fault for trying to be friendly.

“Really,” droned the boy. It was less of a question than an advance. “I woulda thought I’d have noticed someone like you.”

Okay, maybe he was slightly less-than-innocent. And entirely too friendly, if you weren’t just imagining the hint of suggestion in his voice. You pressed your lips into a tight smile, suddenly regretting the fact that you’d let him sit next to you.

“Is this your first class with Professor Crane?” he continued.

“Um, no…” you replied, not really wanting to keep the conversation going, but somehow already too trapped to just ignore him.

“Heh, poor you,” said the boy. “I hear he’s the type that likes to fuck people over.”

You had to bite back a laugh. Somehow you doubted that any of Crane’s other students were getting “fucked over” in exactly the same way you were.

When you glanced over again at your professor, his eyes met yours briefly before darting back down to the stack of papers in front of him. The lingering frost of his stare made your toes curl.

“I like his classes,” you hummed, wary of letting your voice take on too much of the airy, dream-like quality that it often did when you thought about Crane. “I find them… stimulating.”

“Brave girl. You must be smart, huh?”

Before you had a chance to answer, Dr. Crane called the class to attention. As he launched into his welcome-back speech - short and to the point before he got on with the actual lesson - you let out a sigh of relief. You were thankful that this particular awkward interaction would be brief. After this class, you were never going to let this guy sit next to you again.

Ten minutes into the lecture, though, you felt a hand brush over your arm.

“Hey,” breathed the guy, his voice hissing all too close to your ear. “Do you have an eraser? I forgot mine.”

You hummed, too low for him to hear it, but with your teeth grating in anger. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? His hand rested on your arm, and you wanted to pull back and shake it off. Instead, you straightened your back and kept your eyes facing forward.

“No,” you spit back. “I take notes in pen.”

“Ooh, you are smart,” the boy teased, his tone somewhere just past the point of sincere flattery. “Don’t make any mistakes, do you?”

Your teeth mashed together a bit more.

“No wonder you sit in the front row-”

Your one-sided conversation was disrupted, abruptly, by a firm hand slamming down on each desk. You and the boy looked up together, to see Dr. Crane looming over you.

“Is there a problem here?” Crane asked.

“Uhh… no sir,” the boy answered. 

You felt molten heat start to pool in your lap, weaving its way in between your legs. As your eyes trailed up the sleeve of his suit, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself slipping it off of Dr. Crane’s shoulders and throwing it into a corner of the room. This really wasn’t the time or place, much less the ideal situation to be fantasizing in. But the hint of strained possessiveness in his voice had shaken all other thoughts from your head.

“Let’s try to keep personal conversations to a minimum during class,” Crane suggested. He slinked back to his post at the lecturer’s podium.

You almost wanted to fan yourself with your notebook, but resisted the urge. Beside you, the boy let out a petulant grunt, and buried his face in his notes.

As much as you tried to focus on the lesson, you couldn’t help but notice every time Crane’s eyes strayed over to you, studying and astute. Usually he tried not to be so obvious about it. But you caught him staring at you so many times that you started to feel nervous that the rest of the class would notice it too. Somewhere deep in your chest, the thought made your heart flutter.

Unfortunately, you also noticed the multiple times the boy next to you poked and nudged you - always just subtly enough that you couldn’t call him out. His elbow touched yours as he turned to a new page. His foot drifted over to bump gently against the side of your bag on the floor. It was enough to drive you up a wall, but not enough to make a scene.

When class ended, finally, you all but shoved your notebook into your bag, and shot up from your seat like it was on fire. Somehow, Crane was faster than you, and you caught a glimpse of him slipping out of the room as you hurried to follow after.

“Hey! Wait up,” called the guy sitting next to you.

Shit. Not him again. You walked faster, stepping out into the hallway and darting around other students who were still milling about as you made your way to Crane’s office. You were supposed to meet him there, and you really wished you wouldn’t have an annoying little tagalong with you by the time you arrived.

“Where’re you going?” pestered an all too familiar voice.

You didn’t answer, and kept yourself focused on making it to Crane’s office. The walk wasn’t long, but when you arrived there was no sign of Crane. His door was open, though, and you hurried the last few steps to reach it.

“Hey!” the guy called behind you, again. Couldn't he take a hint?

You felt his hand on your arm, and this time you nearly did yank it away. The sheer shock of being touched stopped you, though, and you whirled around to face him, practically seething. The petulant look on his face fueled your anger, and you opened your venomous mouth to speak just as he interrupted you.

“You’re being so rude!” he complained. “I’m just trying to talk to you.”

That sent your brain for a spin. You were the one being rude? When he had just spent an entire class harassing you? You opened your mouth again, but this time, you didn’t have to speak.

“Have you considered that maybe she just isn’t interested in talking to you?”

You would recognize that slightly smug voice anywhere, and you were incredibly glad to hear it. Instantly, your shoulders relaxed as you looked up to see Crane, a piping hot mug in one hand as he idly bobbed a teabag up and down with the other.

“Wh-what?” the annoying boy stammered. 

“Is something the matter?” Crane continued, not bothering to acknowledge the question. “I can’t say I appreciate you interrupting my lesson with your unfortunate attempt at… well, whatever it is you were trying to do.”

Clearly at a loss, the boy’s grip on your arm weakened as he tried to come up with a response. You tried to keep yourself from smiling. Too obviously, anyway. And just past the point where the silence had started to stretch into hopelessness, Crane spoke again.

“Well. If you wouldn’t mind moving, I have a private tutoring session to attend with your classmate here.” He gestured at you. “And you’re blocking my door.”

The boy stepped back, finally letting go of your arm in the process. His scowl was a poor retort to the authority that Crane seemed to exude even as he took a disinterested sip of his tea. You felt something stir inside you again, and you suddenly couldn’t wait to get behind closed doors with your professor. Not just because it meant getting away from this situation. And certainly not for a tutoring session.

“Thank you,” Crane said politely.

He ushered you into his office, careful not to touch you in any overt ways. But even as his hand lingered a few inches away from the small of your back, you could practically feel the energy passing between you. He was so going to get it as soon as that door was closed.

“And next time,” Crane said, turning briefly to shut the door, “I’m docking five points from your grade for every disruption in class.”

With a quick click, the door closed, and you were finally left alone with your professor. You could hear a harsh swear and the stomp of angry feet in the hallway, as the boy from class sulked away. You smiled, and took a step closer to Crane.

“Thank you,” you sighed. “You have no idea how I-”

You’d started to bring your arms up to wrap loosely around his shoulders, but Crane stopped you before you could, to your surprise. Hooking a finger under your chin, he forced you to stop short and looked at you shrewdly.

“I see you made a new friend over spring break,” he observed.

“Ugh. Yuck - no,” you laughed, still trying to wiggle closer so that you could hug him. “That guy was so annoying.”

“Annoying, hm?” Crane hummed. “Maybe I’ll have to start using assigned seats.”

He dropped your chin, and brushed past you while taking a sip of his tea. As he set the mug down on his desk, you spun around to see him settle into his huge leather office chair. You followed, swaying your hips a bit to tease him.

“Just as long as you keep me in the front row,” you said, half-jokingly. 

“Yes, we wouldn’t want you getting distracted by anyone else, now would we?” Crane droned. 

Before you had a chance to ask what he meant, he looked up and crooked a finger at you, beckoning you to come closer. You did, and just as you came to a stop in front of him, Crane grabbed your wrist.

“Actually, I think I might have to move your seat a bit closer than that,” he mused.

Just as you were about to question what could be closer to him than the front row, he turned you around and pulled you down into his lap, making the hair on the back of your neck bristle as he pressed the side of his face against yours.

“After today, I’m starting to think that I’ll need to keep a closer eye on you,” Crane whispered huskily.

As his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you even closer, you squirmed.

“I wasn’t doing anything, though,” you protested. “It was all him.”

It occurred to you that you didn’t even know the rude boy’s name, and the thought made your cheeks heat up. Would that make Crane more annoyed, or less? He must have seen how bothered you were by the unwanted advances in class. Clearly, he was just teasing you, as he so often loved to do. But… what if he really was jealous, and thought you would flirt with anyone who gave you attention?

Slowly, you became aware of a growing bulge, now pressing up into your thigh. Okay, maybe you liked jealous Crane…

“You don’t really think that anything would happen between me and that guy, do you?” you gasped, playing up the shock in your voice.

You felt your back press fully into his chest as he tightened his arms again, pulling you in.

“Do you know what kind of game you’re playing?” Crane scowled behind you.

You did, and you knew that he knew it, too. Just like you knew he was fully aware that you were only playing dumb. But, that had never stopped either of you from having a bit of fun with it.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you sighed, grinding your hips down as your head leaned back to rest on his shoulder.

“Maybe I’ll have to show you then.”

With that, Crane’s hand pushed up the hem of your skirt, swiftly pressing past the fabric of your panties to rub at your slit.

“You’re wet,” he growled. “This had better be from me.”

You didn’t even try to hide the shiver that moved down your spine and straight to his cock, making your hips twist against him again. The armrests of his chair were the only thing available to brace yourself against, and you clutched at them.

Crane swirled his fingers against you again, his other arm keeping you pinned to his lap, and you lost the fight to hold back a shaky breath.

“Already worked up,” he observed. “Were you even paying attention in class?”

“Y-yes,” you insisted.

“Hm.”

Crane forced his hand into the very limited space between your body and his, quickly freeing himself and pressing his now fully-erect cock in between your legs. As you felt it brush against your thighs, you couldn’t help but buck your hips, trying to get a better angle. Crane stilled you, bringing his lips close to your ear as he held you in place.

“Somehow I doubt you were really focusing on the lecture,” he said. “So, I think you and I will have to go over it again. But first…”

He held your panties to the side, repositioning so he could slide himself fully inside of your cunt. It was embarrassing how easily he was able to - your walls offering hardly any resistance as he pressed in.

“Enjoy your new assigned seat.”

You let out a moan as you started to move up and down, slowly at first to warm up to the stretch of him. Almost as soon as you’d started, though, Crane stopped you, hugging you suffocatingly close so that you couldn’t so much as wiggle your hips.

 “No fidgeting in class,” he warned.

You huffed impatiently; the ache that was steadily growing between your legs only somewhat quelled by the way he filled you.

“But we’re not in class,” you protested.

“Didn’t I just tell you?” Crane hissed. “We’re going back over the material. Now…”

He leaned forward to reach for a textbook on his desk, and the small movement caused him to shift just enough to give you a hint of the stimulation you needed. But too soon, it was gone, and Crane had settled back into his chair with you still trapped on his lap, stretched and desperate for friction.

“Do you remember what today’s lesson was about?” he asked wickedly. “Or was your mind already wandering by the time I started talking?”

It was nearly impossible to focus with his voice dripping into your ear like that, and his cock buried so deep inside of you that you were seeing stars. But, you summoned up every last once of attention you could muster to answer him.

“C-clinical trial procedures for use with SSRIs,” you said, grinding your teeth.

“Hm. It almost seems like you were paying attention.”

“I was,” you agreed, quickly seizing the opportunity. “I even took notes. I can show you-”

“Taking notes just proves you can copy down words from a chalkboard,” he interrupted. “I want to make sure you really absorbed the information.”

He punctuated the word with his hips, thrusting up just enough for you to feel it, but so shallow that you couldn’t enjoy the effects for more than a second. You groaned, and felt Crane’s smirk against the shell of your ear.

“Why don’t we open our books to page three hundred and thirty-eight?” he droned, using the same flat, carefully-recited voice that he always did in class. Hearing it so close to your ear made your walls flutter around him, and Crane tapped a finger impatiently on the textbook in front of you, not letting up.

“Can’t you just fuck me?” you whined, not caring how petulant your voice sounded.

“What makes you think I’m going to do that?”

You wished that you weren’t turned away from him, if only so Crane could see the look of utter disbelief on your face. He was balls-deep inside of you, and asking why you thought he was going to fuck you? As if you were sitting across from each other, having an actual tutoring session, and not nearly cumming around his cock.

If only he would let you move.

As you sighed with frustration, an idea came to you. There was one way you could torture him back.

You flexed your muscles, staying perfectly still while your walls squeezed his whole length. You thought you felt him twitch slightly, just a little involuntary movement. But it was hard to tell when your mind was already filling up with thoughts of the way he was sure to bend you over his desk and thoroughly destroy you once you had given him enough incentive.

“C’mon,” you sighed. “Why hold back when you’re obviously dying to make me remember whose cock makes me fall apart? You’re so jealous.”

The smug smile was quickly wiped off your face as Crane’s hands tightened around your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh.

“You think I’m jealous?”

He roughly swirled your hips, not giving you nearly enough friction, but still making you cry out. You wanted to scream for him to touch your clit, move you up and down - do anything. The torture of feeling him inside you, stretching you out with so little movement, was making your whole body burn. And most of the heat was starting to focus right between your legs, on the neglected bundle of nerves that was begging for attention.

“You think it drives me insane to watch someone else touch you?” He moved your hips again, and you felt a sharp pang of frustration. “That I don’t like it when someone else tries to take what’s mine?”

His last word was practically a growl, and you felt yourself clench again, not on purpose this time. The low hiss of his voice in your ear was almost enough to make you come undone, if only he would give you even the briefest hint of physical stimulation where you needed it.

You focused on squeezing him again, rubbing your legs together as much as you could.

“Don’t make me beg,” you pleaded.

“Oh no, sweetheart - you don’t have to beg. Like you said, I’m going to show you just who you belong to.”

With that, Crane’s hips shot up as he bit down harshly on the lobe of your ear. You were shocked to feel warmth spreading deep inside of you - you hadn’t even realized he was close. As he pressed deeper, one of his hands came up to squeeze roughly at your breast, and your mouth fell open.

You sat there together for a moment, Crane breathing a bit more heavily than he had been a few seconds ago. Eventually, you made a move to get up.

“I can’t believe you’re so petty,” you started.

Before you could stand up more than a fraction of an inch, Crane’s hold tightened on you again.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“To clean up.” 

You could feel his cum starting to leak out of you slowly. It dripped down the shaft of his cock, still buried inside you and keeping most of the mess contained.

“I don’t think so,” he said, calmly. He pulled you back, pinning you right where you had been before. “You’re staying right here until we’ve gone over the lesson. And if you still can’t pay attention…” He swirled your hips again in that deliciously infuriating way. “Then I guess we’ll be here for a very long time.”

“You’re infuriating,” you sighed. “I didn’t even do anything wrong!”

“What a shame. Now, where were we?”

As Crane reached forward again to open the textbook, his still-hard cock brushed against your slick walls. You tried to hold back the moan that escaped your lips, but you could feel every inch of him still inside you, and it was no use trying to stop yourself.

Crane brought his lips to your ear as he started to lecture, and you shivered.

Taglist: @cillianslvt, @cillmequick, @dynamitehacke, @franzine-xii, @hanawrites404, @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch, @littlewinter1917, @mothhball, @nnattu, @nocturnest, @red-riding-wood, @sea-star-of-the-ocean, @slut4thebroken

#cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy smut #jonathan crane smut #cillian x reader #LemmyFics

[afroditisworld]

Playing Dangerous

Eycte!Alex Turner x Rockstar!Reader

Warnings: smut, edging, blue balls, reader and Alex being mean, use of cigarette pet names (doll, darling, luv) basically smut without plot :) (if you are not into that please don't read)

word count: 2k

A/N: I kinda rushed it 'cause i was excited to post my first fic. It's kinda small but I hope you like it :)

You should have known better than having sex backstage just before going on stage. As the opening act of The Last Shadow Puppets, you should be getting ready rather than getting laid with one of the singers. But you didn't give a damn right now, on top of Alex, as you started getting closer to your relief.

"Al-I'm-I'm close-" As you started bouncing faster and harder against his thigh and felt your climax getting closer, you were nothing more than a whimpering mess on top of him. With both of your hands laying at his chest, trying to increase your pace, you were becoming much sloppier.

"Not yet." Alex's warm breath landed on your neck, causing goosebumps all over your body. A pleasant gasp escaped from your lips, and all of a sudden, everything felt way too good. He said, "Wait for me, doll," sensing your walls becoming more and more tight with each thrust.

"I-I can't, Al, please." You cried as you bit your lower lip to the point that you thought you tasted blood in your attempt to stop yourself from cumming.

Typically, Alex wasn't such a tease. But tonight was different perhaps it was the anticipation and excitement for the concert you didn't know, but at the moment, it didn't matter because everything felt just right. As your head rolled back, allowing him complete access to your neck, he whispered, "Look at you, so needy to cum." refusing to pass up an opportunity to leave his mark, Alex sucked the skin and worked a soft bruise into the side of your neck. You were completely messed up you couldn't even keep riding his cock, your mind was all over the place as your moans filled the room. You were so out of touch with reality, and Alex knew that.

"Come on, darling, like a good girl and cum on my cock, I'm sure you want it," he murmured, reaching for your waist to help with your movement. Alex couldn't help but press your hips downward, finding a new spot inside of you, and this was all you needed. Because of the overstimulation you were shaking and trying to stop moving on top of him. However, he refused to let you and kept bouncing inside you. He continued to fuck you as you came, crying with pleasure as he filled you up after a few more thrusts.

You could feel his cum pouring out of you while his dick was still buried inside you. You felt completely lightheaded and crashed on top of him, attempting to catch your breath as your sweaty bodies collided and tried to come down from your high. You were totally zoomed out, and his beautiful veiny neck was the ideal place to rest your head.

"Babe, are you with me?" He asked, lightly massaging your back with his thumb in circles. One of your favourite parts was the afterglow, and you couldn't take your eyes off of his sweating face. You blinked at him idly without shifting your position as you peered up at him. For an instant, you had completely forgotten about the concert, and all you wanted to do was stay here. "You know you have to be on stage in twenty minutes, right?" He asked you again, and this time you met his eyes, making him groan in response to your sudden movement. "Please don't remind me," you said, followed by the realisation that perhaps it wasn't a good idea to have sex shortly before your show and that you should reconsider before giving in to Alex's all-day flirting.

You've been struggling to adjust your hair, clothes, and makeup for the past ten minutes, but nothing seems exactly the same as it did before. Even though you didn't think you looked horrible, you sighed as you glanced in the mirror since you knew your stylist would be upset with you. "You should be more careful with that," you said as you gently touched your neck in admiration of Alex's work in your reflection. He smirked as his eyes landed on your neck and looked at you through the mirror. "I think it's fitting you well, luv" he commented grinning. "Oh yeah? I believe people gonna think that too," you said sarcastically. When youlooked at him, Alex had just lit up a cigarette and was looking so calm. The fact that he looked so good even after fucking you into oblivion nearly made you hate him. "So what do you think?" You showed him your figure and asked. He calmly stepped closer and started covering your neck with wet kisses without responding to you. "Alex, I'm serious!" You paused and turned around to face the man with his flawless hair all over his face and the smoke starting to escape from his mouth. It nearly slipped your mind what you were asking him. "You look perfect." He said leaning in to kiss you. You tiptoed, trying to reach him and kiss him back. When he broke the kiss, you continued as Alex's hands grabbed your ass. "I looked like I was having sex right before my show." He sent out a little giggle and then someone called you from outside "Y/n in five you have to be on stage." "Fuck me," you moaned as you opened your dressing room door. Naturally, Alex couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease you. Next to you, he responded, "Oh, but I did."

The floor under your feet was vibrating, pulsing with music and you couldn't help but think about all the risky things that went on backstage and how much you may have enjoyed it for that reason. Even though you were trying not to think about it, your mind kept reminding you that every time your eyes drifted to the side of the stage, Alex was there smirking at you and fighting to hold back his playful smile. You sang, lost in the music that pulsed through your body like a drug. And when the show was over you felt as though a weight had lifted. But you couldn't stop recalling what had happened before the concert and how you could get a revenge.

And then it hit you. You knew exactly what you wanted to do and you ran in Alex's arms as you exited the stage. "Do you know how hard it was to perform when all I could think about was you?" You whispered in his ear and as a reflex, he grabbed your wrist firmly and led you backstage.

When he opened the door of his dressing room, you pulled him inside by his sleeveless jersey. "You're such a teaser sometimes," you moaned as you pushed him and forced him to sit on the room's sofa. He simply stared at you, satisfied with himself, realising that his previous actions had such an impact on you. And as you lowered yourself, you could see his eyes darkening and his jawlines becoming sharper. You sit on his lap and begin kissing his neck, trying to find his sweet spot and pulling his hair to have easier access. You knew you had an effect on him, but his erection in his trousers confirmed it.

"Baby, we don't have time," he worriedly muttered. He realised he didn't have time for what you had in mind and that he should be performing in less than ten minutes, but he didn't stop you. "Oh, don't worry about that, I will be quick" You said this as you stood up from his lap and knelt on the floor in front of him.  Alex put one hand on the back of your head and pulled your hair, forcing you to look at him. And he traced his thumb down your bottom lip, you licked your lips and opened your mouth as you took the lead and sucked lightly on Alex's thumb. "Don't tease me doll" he breathed out and a small smirk appeared on your lips. He couldn't help but watch you as your fingers loosened his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his tight pants and pushed them and his underwear down.He didn’t need to say anything else as you took him into your mouth.

Despite having sucked Alex's dick numerous times, you couldn't get used to the feeling of your mouth being stretched to the most. Your gaze met his as you leaned in and licked his erection, his cock brushing the back of your throat as Alex's lips left a groan. He could feel the heat flowing in the backstage room from the rawness of your tongue across his entire body. What you were doing had an intoxicating kind of power, and you were totally into it. "Don't- Fuck don't stop using your tongue," he said as his head rolled back. And you did exactly what he asked eager to please him. "Just- ugh, just look at how good you're talking me." he moaned and pulled your hair as he fucking your throat. You could feel tears running from your eyes and you locked your eyes with him again knowing how much he loved making you cry.

You sped up, and your entire world shrank to the taste of his cock, the sound of his breathing, and the sensation of his hand in your hair. You were so focused on your task that you almost didn't notice the shift in his breathing that indicated he was close. Then a tap on the door snapped you out of your thoughts about how you were getting Alex closer to cum.

"Alex, it's time for show time" Miles's voice sounded from outside. "Fuck-I- I'm coming" He gasped, and you pulled his dick out of your mouth. He was stunned, his eyes wide open, staring at you as you gave him puppy eyes and rose up. His dick was still wet from your spit as he opened his mouth to tell you something, but he was cut off by another knock.

"Come on, mate," Miles said again, and a tiny giggle escaped your lips. He shook his head and re-tucked his trousers. "What I'm going to do with this?" he asked you as he showed you his erection through his jeans, "I think it fits you well, luv," you said mocking him from before.

love is strange sometimes it makes you crazy

#alex turner x reader #alex turner #alex turner x you #alex turner x y/n #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fanfiction

[pictureinme]

kinktober day xix. DADDY – burt fabelman

word count: ~700 tags: mirror sex, doggy style babyyyy lets goooo masterlist | ao3

You watch impatiently on hands and knees as Burt readies himself behind you, having opted to try out an idea he had floated by you earlier that week: having sex in front of a mirror. He was rather excited about it, and you couldn’t help but be as well– you knew how much he liked this position from his ever-explicit moans, but what if you could see his face?

He groans as he teases at your entrance, wettening his hardness with your arousal, “You look absolutely gorgeous like this, sweetheart.”

You look at him with the most innocent eyes you could muster, “Thank you, Daddy.”

Burt tuts, slowly entering you, “If only you knew how easily you get me riled up by saying that…”

You definitely knew, why else would you say it?

Your eyes flutter shut as he seats himself fully inside, stretching you perfectly. It didn’t matter how many times the two of you ‘made love,’ as he so often called it, you would never get used to just how thick he was.

“God, you’re so big,” you breathe out, locking lidded eyes with Burt through the reflection. “You fill me up so good, Daddy.”

He somehow pushes deeper against your cervix, causing you to moan louder than you expected, “I know I do, baby. It’s like you were made for me, right?”

Nodding, you resist rocking back against him for fear of him stopping, but you don’t have to relent for long as Burt finally begins to thrust. His hands grip tightly at your hips, and you so desperately want him to move them back onto his length like you were a toy.

Continuing to stretch you open, his eyes fall on the way your breasts bounce in this position– he can’t resist reaching under to grip one. Mewling at the touch of his rough hand, Burt speeds up his thrusts.

“Look at how pretty you look, honey,” he squeezes particularly hard to emphasize his words, “Taking me so well like the good girl you are.”

Biting your lip, you nod again, “Thank you so much…”

“Always so good at using her manners for Daddy, too.”

Burt moves his hand to grip your hair, pulling you back gently to look properly at the reflection. From this angle at which your back arches, you feel his length bumping right against your cervix in a way you’d never felt before. He lifts you up fully so you’re flush against his chest as he fucks up into you, not once leaving your warmth.

He kisses your neck, whispering, while still looking at you in the mirror, “Touch yourself for me, baby. Let Daddy watch you make yourself feel good, okay?”

One of your hands wraps behind Burt’s back for purchase while the other begins to circle your already sensitive clit. With a moan, you throw your head back against his chest, overwhelmed with the pleasure of it all.

“Daddy, it feels too good… please!”

“Keep your eyes on me in the mirror,” he groans, out of breath, “Be the good girl I know you are, come on, baby.”

You follow his directions to meet his gaze, and your ministrations only increase in speed. Burt’s thrusts were deep and hard, the two of you were close. It was like a race to see who could come first, but no one wanted to win– the desire of wanting to see the other finish first was far too great.

His mouth falls open with a moan as you squeeze around him, your release just on the edge, “Come for me, I know you can do it. Let me see you do it, please…”

“Daddy, oh my God, Daddy–!”

Your body trembles in his embrace as you orgasm, the only thing holding you up is him inside you and his arm wrapping around your waist. Burt curses under his breath as his thrusts become even more desperate as he watches you fall apart– it was beyond perfect.

His eyes stayed on your body, watching you shake and convulse as he continued to chase his own orgasm, “Perfect little doll, God, look at you…”

Burt stutters in his movements before finally spilling all he’s got inside of you, holding you tightly against his chest. You feel it heaving, up and down, as he comes down from his high.

#burt fabelman x reader #paul dano x reader #burt fabelman smut #paul dano smut #kinktober 2023

[honeycomb-fics]

Risky Text

Fandom: One Punch Man

Pairing: Saitama x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Slight NSFW/ Minors DNI (Contains: Drunk Texting, Accidental Nude Text)

Summary: Saitama asks the reader for a picture of the flyer for the super sale at the market and gets more than he bargained for.

AO3 Link 

**I feel like i have to put this disclaimer here i do not condone sending unsolicited nude photos- this is a work of fiction**

- - - - -

It was a hot summer afternoon and you found yourself sprawled out on your living room floor, three beers into relaxation mode, soaking up as much of the air conditioning that was weakly spilling in through your run down wall unit. It was almost unbearable the way your shirt was sticking your sweaty back, you casually stripped yourself of the half soaked garment deciding that decency didn’t matter today. You lived alone anyway, who cares? Summer was the absolute pits, you thought to yourself just as your phone buzzed from across the room.  

You groaned at the thought of dragging yourself across the floor to grab the phone but when it buzzed impatiently again, you gave in. You grabbed your phone to see two texts:

Saitama 🥚: > Send me a copy of the super sale flyer for the grocery store near you. Can’t find mine. > HEY?

The only thing your friend was ever incredibly demanding about was the sale day at the grocery store. You had to admit, your local store had some really good deals, but you did not understand how he was willing to brave this heat wave to get them. The man was something super human that was for sure. You admired his dedication to getting the best price and hurried yourself to rifling through the stack of papers on your table.

Saitama was lucky you had a soft spot for him because you were entirely too drunk to be doing this right now, you thought, as you finally grabbed the right flyer checking the date. You quickly snapped a picture, not even checking if it was blurry.

You: >As you requested. Always, your humble servant [2 images]

Saitama 🥚: >Thanks.

After your task was completed, you again tossed your phone and laid back on the floor sprawling out trying to bask in the weak, tepid air blowing from the wall unit from you as you could. You mentally chastised yourself for not begging Saitama to pick you up some more tea or even beer at the store as compensation for texting him a measly flyer. You were almost out of anything relatively refreshing and were on the verge of having to bear the heat wave yourself. Your body had just started to relax and you could feel yourself begin to drift off to sleep when your mind recalled ‘[2 images]’.

What the heck did you send Saitama besides the photo of the sale? Your mind was scrambling trying to think of what was most recently in your camera roll when you felt all the blood drain from your face. Remembering your late night “photo shoot” from the previous night. On occasion, when you felt like boosting your self esteem, you would take rather risqué photos of yourself. Nudes. You never intended them to see the light of day, let alone send them unsolicited to your friend. You didn’t exactly mind the idea of Saitama seeing you naked but this is not how you intended that to ever play out. He had never given you any indication that he was interested in you either other than a few offhanded jokes, but you had always taken them at face value, jokes.

Frantically this time, you scrambled across the floor towards your phone hoping that the second image that was sent was just a meme or at the worst a screenshot of the most personal conversation you’ve had about your feelings for Saitama with your friends. Anything but your naked torso.

You were relieved that the first image you sent was indeed the requested flyer, at least you succeeded at sending that. Your finger hovered over the second image, afraid to face the truth of whatever happened to be behind it. As the image opened, your horror increased, the only saving grace was that it was one of the more tasteful shots you had taken that night. The photo was from your neck down to your waist, you had opted to use your hand to cover your nipples and push your breasts together for what you, in that moment, considered the perfect shot. Even now, you thought it looked pretty damn good but very inappropriate considering the situation.

You were really sweating now. You tried to take a few deep breaths remembering that he did respond to the text, simply just saying “Thanks”. Maybe he was going to just let it go and act like it never happened, saving you the mortifying experience of having to explain why you sent him a half naked picture. You couldn’t actually picture Saitama being angry or disgusted with you, all things considered, if he didn’t like the picture he would probably just delete it and move on with his day. But your conscience wouldn’t allow you to personally not address it and at the very least apologize.

Your catastrophizing was cut short when you heard a sharp knock on your apartment door. Frustrated, you let out a groan and kicked your feet against the floor at the fact you had to get up again. You got to your feet and stomped over to the front door, not even bothering to toss back on your sweat soaked shirt, it was probably just some solicitor you were going to have to chase off anyway. When you opened the door and saw Saitama standing there with his bags of groceries in tow, all you could do was stand in the doorway with your mouth agape. You did not miss the way his eyes quickly ran across your half dressed body and disheveled state.

“Oi. Are you just going to stand there or are you going to let me in?” Saitama asked with an annoyed expression, shuffling his shopping bags around, “It’s like a thousand degrees out here.”

You moved aside allowing him to brush past you into your apartment. He quickly kicked his shoes off and began to make himself at home in your apartment as he usually did. It surprised you at first just how comfortable he seemed everywhere. You wondered if he ever got nervous about anything. He opened your refrigerator and started putting some of his items inside.

“I’m going to be here awhile so, I need to use your fridge,” He explained giving you a quick glance, haphazardly shoving his eggs and pork onto one of your shelves.

“Just make yourself right at home,” you replied plopping back down on the floor.

“Nice tits, by the way,” Saitama continued conversationally pouring himself the last of your iced tea, “Did you mean to send that?”

Your eyes widened and your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You couldn’t even begin to form a response to his blunt question.

“You don’t have to be weird. I liked it. I just want to know if you meant to send it,” He said as he sat down beside you, stretching out on the floor.

“Well, no. I didn’t mean to send it,” You admitted, “But, uh, I am glad.. that you liked it.”

The quiet that followed your admission was unbearable. You could hear the ice clinking together in Saitama’s glass as it slowly melted and shifted.

“Wait.. is that why you said you would be here awhile?” You suddenly questioned, breaking the silence.

He looked over at you with a blank expression, “Yeah, I thought you wanted to uh.." Saitama made a crude gesture. One of his hands making the shape of an ‘O’ with the index finger from the other hand pointed towards it, "ya know? But if you don't, that's cool too.”

You laid back and threw your arm over your eyes and laughed at the turn of events, “Oh, I mean I definitely do.”

#saitama x reader #saitama x you #one punch man reader insert #opm reader insert #not sfw #gail writes #saitama opm x you #my writing

[writemekpop]

Home Alone | Kim Jongin (Kai)

Summary: Your husband Kai accuses you of not trusting him with your baby daughter.  

Genre: New parents AU, domestic, angsty, house hubby Kai

Word Count: 0.8k

You were trying to balance the dangerous job of straightening your hair while buttoning up a onesie for your one-year-old. The hot blades wavered ever closer to the soft blue cotton.

That was when you got the call. You threw down the phone. “My mother’s sick! She can’t take Jasmine!”

Your husband Kai sprang up. He had been kneeling on the floor, building a house of cards in the pristine emptiness of the living room you had just cleaned. The house collapsed with a sigh.

“I’ve got to leave,” you groaned, lifting your baby daughter Jasmine into your arms. “Hey Jazzy, have you ever been to a board meeting before?”

The baby giggled.

Kai stepped forward, running his hands through his disheveled hair. “Hey, I can take her!” He frowned. “It’s not like I’ve never looked after Jazz.” He paused, his face falling blank. “Actually… you have never asked me to look after Jazz. How come?”  

Your heart rate was increasing just hearing his words. Everything came into sharp focus. Kai’s odd combination of Hawaiian shorts, a silk shirt and flip-flops. The cigarette butts still smouldering in the ashtray on the balcony he thought you didn’t know about.

The sound of your phone alarm, titled, LEAVE THE HOUSE BITCH, began to buzz like an angry wasp in your ear.  

“Um, yes, sweetie, of course I want you to look after Jasmine, it’s just-“ you scrambled for a lie. “You’re… too… busy! I don’t want to get the way of your fancy actor work!”

He frowned. “But baby, you know shooting hasn’t started yet.”  

You needed a better excuse. “But your lines. You have to learn them. I would rather than die than keep you away from your lines.”

You could almost hear the drone of the station announcer: “Last call for the 8:05 train. Last call…”  

Kai grinned in disbelief. “You’re saying I can’t look after Jazz… because I have to read a script?” He frowned. “Do you not trust me to look after our daughter?”

“Oh, Kai.” You squeezed your temples. “I don’t have time for this. Fine You want the truth?. No, I don’t trust you with my child.”

“Our child.” Kai scoffed. “And you can’t say that! How could you?”

You gestured to the pigsty that was the apartment. “You’re irresponsible. You’re untidy. You’re out partying every night-“

You were about to say more, but you stopped yourself. Some things were too true to say. Everybody deserved a few lies to cling onto.

Kai sighed, and you hated how well he knew you. “Go on. Say what you’re thinking.”  

You sighed. “Oh… and acting is not a real job!”

Kai bit his lip, pain flashing over his handsome features. “So, what was your big plan? Keep her from me for the next eighteen years?  

You tried to deny it, but fell silent when you saw the pain in his eyes. “N-not eighteen. Maybe… ten.”

And suddenly, you felt like an awful person. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. You- you’re a great father, you just… don’t have the skills yet to look after her. The knowledge.”

Kai sighed. His voice was very quiet. “I know that she naps between eleven and one. I know that Fuzzy is her favourite toy. I know that she can’t sleep on her tummy, or drink cow’s milk, or have too many baths.”

“How did you…” you started. “I read those parenting books that you aways leave lying around,” Kai said, crossing his arms.

You stepped towards him, smoothing your hands over his face. “I had no idea…”

You pressed your lips to his, and in the shape of his firm body, his scent, you almost lost yourself.

Kai gently pulled away, crooning, “Go. As much as I’d like you to stay, your genius is needed at a board meeting. I’ve got her.”

You smiled, picking up your bags. “Okay. But I am FaceTiming you in an hour. Every hour, actually.”

Kai grinned, that lopsided grin that made you giddy when you were still nineteen and an extra on some unknown TV show. You may have given up on acting, but you never gave up on the boy of your dreams.

You left a little piece of your heart with Kai and Jasmine, then shrugged on your blazer and stepped out into the brightening morning light.  

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

#kai #exo #jongin #kpop imagines #kai smut #exo smut #exo fluff #exo fanfiction #exo drabbles #exo reactions #kai fluff #kai imagines #jongin smut #jongin fluff #superm #superm smut #nct smut #baekhyun #superm imagines #exo x reader

[lovingperfectionsblog]

A Video

Max Verstappen x Reader, Pantonic!Daniel.

Summary: A video is all Max needed to get him to ask you out.

Warnings: Drinking, swearing.

Word Count: 1954

Authors note: Welp, I was meant to write drabbles and then y’all got this. I hope you all enjoy and I cant wait to hear what you think 😊

_____

“I have work tomorrow” you slurred out as Daniel poured you another glass of his new wine, which he had promised was just going to be a night of you two doing taste testing. It was never just taste testing; it was always just a bit too drunk to function. You don’t know he always managed to convince you otherwise, but he did, and so here you sat, knowing you’d have to crash on his couch, again.

“We all have work tomorrow. Call in sick like the rest of us adults” Daniel shrugged as he violently shook the wine bottle, attempting to get every drop of it into your now far too full glass, “maybe you can even get Max to come take care of you”, his grin spreading wider as you dead panned him.

“When exactly are you going to get over the whole me and Max thing?” you tried to sound cool, tried to make it sound like you didn’t care but in truth, you were desperately trying to avoid this topic because it always left you feeling a little dejected. More than upset that you knew you and Max would never be more than what you both were right at this moment.

“When are you going to admit that you’re so in love with him that you’d probably die for him at this point?” he grabbed a second bottle of wine that lay at this feet, always thinking ahead and bringing out a few bottles for the two of you, knowing how these nights always ended up.

“If I did-“ Daniel already had a massive grin growing on his face, whatever he was gearing up to stay was stopped in its tracks as you held up a finger, indicating you wanted to finish, “IF I did, it honestly wouldn’t matter, because Max doesn’t feel the same so it wouldn’t matter” you downed the last of your wine, passing the glass over to Daniel to pour you another, fully accepting what this night was going to be.

“So, let me, just wait, let me get this straight, is this you admitting you like him?” Daniel took a sip of your glass before passing it back to you.

You took the glass and surprisingly, downed the entire thing, Daniel did nothing other than watch, fully prepping himself to get up and run, in case you needed to throw up and he wasn’t prepared to clean up vomit off his balcony again.

“Imightbeinlovewithhim” you rushed through, wine glass covering your mouth, further mumbling your words in an attempt to conceal the confession. It did nothing of the sort.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” Daniel was on his feet and doing a quick lap around his house, wine spilling as he made his way cheering through the house like he had just won Monaco itself, eventually joining you on the balcony once again, out of breath and shaking spilt wine off his hands, “I fucking knew you were in love with him.”

“I guess I wasn’t all that good at hiding it then” you decided to forgo the glass, grabbing the stem of the bottle instead, eliciting a haughty laugh from Daniel, although the nod of approval told you he was going to do the same as soon as his glass was done, which would be sooner rather than later considering all that had been spilt.

“You were so bad at hiding it” his laugh only increasing the more embarrassed you became, every part of your body language showing just how much, curling in on yourself around the bottle of wine, despite the giggles erupting from you as Daniel’s laugh got louder.  

“I tried so hard” you got out between your own laughs, the entire situation becoming more and more funny the longer you two spoke about it. Although, you two finding it funny for two very different reasons.

Yours, more so born out of how embarrassed you were for liking someone who would never like you back and doing such a bad job at hiding it.

Daniels, born out of the knowledge that Max felt the exact same and finally Daniel was able to prove you did, he finally kne3w for certain. His was born out of absolute joy for two of his best friends.

“Listen, just say that for me again” you looked at Daniel, his phone pointed at your face as he began recording you, immediately picking up on the confused look you shot his way, “we’re drunk, I wanna be able to remind you of this in the morning” he offered the lie too easily as an explanation, one, in your drunken state, you easily accepted.

You turned to the camera, hands gripping the neck of the wine bottle hard, eyes small as your smile overtook your entire face, the giggles refusing to stop at this point, making Daniel giggle too, as evident by the shake in the video. You took a deep breath and then “I am in love with him” you said quietly, knowing this was just for you two, but still embarrassed by the statement.

“No man! You need to say who and everything” Daniel could be heard in the background of the video, still shaking from his laughter as your shook your head in disbelief and readied yourself for another take, another deep breath and,

“I am in love with thee Max Verstappen” a little cheer could be heard from Daniel before he stopped recording as you threw your head back and did a full belly laugh, thoroughly amused by the situation.

_____

MadMax: This is a joke right? You guys are playing a joke on me?

BigRicc: I swear to god this is 100% legit, she just admitted it.

MadMax: but she’s drunk she probably doesn’t mean it.

BigRicc: Listen, stop being a pussy, she just said she’s inlove with you and I have handed you this information on a silver platter, now, either you do something about it or I encourage her to go after Charles, who we all know is now newly single.

MadMax: I’m coming.

BigRicc: Ew. Don’t tell me that. Jesus.

MadMax: NO! Ew! What the fuck. I’m coming to your house now.

BigRicc: Oh, yeah, that makes more sense. Doors unlocked.

_____

Eventually the topic had changed, Daniel suddenly starting to hint at you two heading inside and him being tired, wholly unusual for your wine drinking partner, you staving off going to bed just yet completely opposite to what you’d expressed earlier in the evening.  

Halfway through you begging Daniel for one more glass (or at least fishing off your individual bottles), the front door crashed open, startling both you and Daniel at the loud, abrupt noise at this time of night.

You both swung around and then there was a breathless Max Verstappen in the middle of Daniels living room, facing the balcony door where you and his friend sat wide eyed, staring at him. He stood, bent over, hands on his knees, head dropped as he tried to steady his ragged breathing from his sprint up the building’s staircases. A hand was held up in your direction, indicating that he needed a second before any of you could start speaking, not that either you or Daniel could after that shock.

“I really don’t want you and Charles to get together” was the first thing Max had said to either of you.

“Max” Daniel mimicked your own confused face, “This is not the way to start this conversation”’.

You swung your head towards Daniel, confusion now deeply etched into your features, not entirely sober enough to keep up with any of this, although, you weren’t entirely sure you could even if you were sober.

“No?” Max had now turned to Daniel, them completely cutting you out of the conversation

“No.” Daniel only shook his head, offering nothing else.

“What, what do I, how do I start this?” The nativity pouring off of Max was possibly the cutest thing you’d ever witnessed, both frustration and nerves seeping into his voice as he asked Daniel for guidance.

“You ask her on a date” Daniel nodding in the direction of you, giving Max an encouraging smile as both stood there now staring at you, your own head swinging between the both of them trying to piece together what was happening. Max gave a final nod and took a deep breath before completely turning towards you.

“Can I please take you on a date?” Max asked, more confident than he’d been since he’d barrelled into the house, despite the nerves that were still evident.

The nerves that were only getting worse the longer you took to respond, your drunk brain trying to process the concept that the man you loved had just stormed into the flat to ask you on a date. Eventually your brain got out the only thing it could,

“Why would I get together with Charles?” sober you knew you had bypassed the important topic at hand, but for some reason drunk you was still playing catch up.

“No, this is not what we’re talking about right now” Daniel was shocked at how he was having to direct this conversation.

“Because I’m in love with you and want to take you on a date” Max had spoken at the same time Daniel had, assuming the reasoning had been obvious.

“Oh” it was all you managed to get out as you sat nodding your head, again, drunk you assuming you nodding your head was enough of a yes for Max.

“Words, sugar, he’s waiting for an answer” Daniel nudged you, spurring you on.

“Oh, oh sorry!” You turned to look at a nearly distraught Max, “Yes of course, I’d love to go on a date with you.” You could physically feel the relief wash over him, only now noticing the breath he finally took.

“Okay, yes, good, I’ll contact you once I’ve made arrangements” the surety suddenly in voice was alarming as he had walked up to you and placed a kiss to the top of your head before promptly turning around and  walking out, silently closing the front door behind him.

“What just happened?” your eyes didn’t leave the door, even as Daniel sked for you to give him a moment and he quickly followed the route Max had just taken.

And there he found Max, eyes closed, leaning against the wall in the corridor, hand pressed to his chest, almost as if he was willing his heart to not beat out of his chest.

“Holy shit you did it” Max didn’t move, barely even registered Daniel was suddenly with him.

“I just fucking did it” it was almost a whisper, like he could barely believe it himself.

And next minute Daniel has semi tackled him, hands wrapped around him and they both bounced in the hallway, a whispered “I fucking did it” leaving both him and Daniel as they cheered his success, before they let go and both stood breathless, equally as happy with the outcome of the evening.

“I am so proud, but I have to be honest, I’m about to throw up.” And Max barely even had a moment to respond before he watched Daniel bolt back inside, strongly happy he wasn’t the one that was about to handle both of you drunk together.

Instead, he made his way back down to his car, and if Max had thrown in a few skips as he made his way down the corridors thinking about the date he had planned since the day he realized how he had felt abut you, well then, that was no bodies business except his own.

#Max Verstappen x Reader #Max Vertsappen x You #x reader #Max Verstappen #Daniel Ricciardo #f1 #F1 x you #F1 imagines #Max verstappen Fluff

[entomolog-t]

GtWAC Day 14 : Date Night

A promise of something spicey to come~

A little (not canon but absolutely could be) short of June and Aedes as a late Valentine's day prompt (Also combined with the G/t Valentine's prompt list prompt Card). For context this would take place not too long after Chapter 10 in Bite Me.

- - - -

Part 2: Comings Soon

Word count: 608

CW: Suggestive

Consciousness drowsily scratched at Aedes senses, rousing him, rather unfairly, from the far too luxurious comforts of the pillow he lay splayed out upon. Even with his eyes closed, the warm glow of the sunset still managed to shine through, pulling him, albeit unwillingly, from his sleep. 

Movements slow and lazy, Aedes stretches himself out, a yawn escaping him as the remaining daylight slowly bleeds away. A shiver passes through him- the room both oddly silent and oddly cold. Aedes frowns. He’d expected June to be home by now. She’d mentioned something about a human holiday, though he’d never paid much attention to what humans thought to celebrate. Despite that, he’d managed to pick up a few details in passing over the years, and one thing was abundantly clear…

This was a lovers holiday. 

Aedes swallows. His throat suddenly much too dry. 

Lovers…

Staring up at the ceiling, his mind feels paradoxically both full and blank- his thoughts like static, busy yet incoherent. 

Lovers… the word seemed to echo in his mind, Is that what we are?

They were certainly something… Though what exactly was a question that Aedes had been avoiding for… well, reasons. 

He sighs, a cool breeze from the open window sending a chill through him, and he mentally scolds June for leaving it open once again- The irony not lost on him that it was precisely this habit that led to their… something. 

Though it’s what the breeze brings with it that truly chills him. 

Aedes freezes- body rigid as his heart seems to stop dead mid beat. 

Something sweet danced on the breeze, rich and creamy and all too familiar. 

Immediately Aedes swivels around, unnerved he hadn’t noticed her upon waking up. Though, it wasn’t June that caught his gaze, in fact, she wasn’t there at all. Instead, his eyes fell on a foreign object carefully placed on the windowsill. 

Oh- 

A card. 

Scrawled out in an intricate deep red cursive was nothing but his name- his name, and a bow tied delicately along the width of the cream coloured paper. 

Aedes stood, eyeing the card. Despite any pretext the holiday may suggest, he couldn’t shake the almost ominous feeling as he climbed up towards the window sill. As he drew nearer, the feeling only seemed to increase, his thoughts groggily trying to piece together what exactly was so unnerving. Only after reaching the card did he realize its source- his heart seeming to almost shudder in his chest. 

The paper, the bow… it all smelled of her. 

June’s perfume lingered in the air around the card- and greedily, Aedes breathed it in, not unaware of the heat that rushed to his face.

Curiosity rampant in his mind, Aedes opens the card. 

The sight made his breath catch in his throat. 

The card was simple. Just one sentence, if one could even call it that. And yet, the contents stirred something within him. Aedes found himself frozen, staring blankly at the page, fumbling with his thoughts as the dizzying scent of her that clung to the paper toyed with his emotions. But while the smell of tonka and cream that hung in the air was enticing, it was what quite literally clung to the paper that caused heat to pool somewhere other than his face. That- and those two simple words. 

An imprint of boozy red lips stood out on the cream coloured paper of the card, interrupted by the ribbon laced around the card precisely between the lips, their color far too familiar to be merely coincidental, a promise of satiety- both carnivorous and carnal. 

His knees felt weak.

8:00pm, Blindfolded. 

#This two make me want to howl #I was STRUGGLING with how to use the prompt card and JUNE CAME IN CLUTCH #Girl same #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t community #g/t prompts #g/t fluff #g/t writing #GtWAC #G/t Valentine's #Bite Me #JuneOC #AedesOC #cw suggestive #Entowrites

[where-dreamers-go]

“Here And There” Eragon x Reader

(A/N: Requested by the awesome @shewhobreathesfire for a clumsy Modern! Reader who has been made an ambassador for Alagaësia and sent out to Mount Arngor.

Warnings: Very minor angst. Mild language. Use of (Y/N).

Word Count: 1,706 words)

Ambassador of Alagaësia, appointed by Queen Nasuada herself, tasked with exchanging ideas of changes in the land through meetings with Mount Arngor’s leader, and follow protocol.

You found it all to be rushed decisions, really. Not that you would risk voicing that opinion out loud. You couldn’t afford to be foolish in that matter even if all of this was a new experience. You would rather live to tell the tale. Then again, you felt safer away from Alagaësia. From the endless list of laws and social norms.

Mount Arngor, or whichever of the handful of names you wished to call it, stood tall against a blue sky. Grassland stretched out all around it with water sources running close by. The new stronghold grew on one of the many peaks at the base of the mountain, looking extremely tiny in comparison.

At least you had found your way easily enough.

Roughly almost three weeks into walking in your new ambassador position left you questioning yourself. Not only in business matters, but how you were around others. Eragon in particular.

The Dragon Rider had evolved more than you imagined and exactly as you hoped. He had grown well as a leader, working within the community.

All out of Queen Nasuada’s reach. Or so you liked to tell yourself.

She would never see you running your foot into a table after Eragon complimented one of your suggestions for organizing storage. Unfortunately, a handful of dwarves and the other ambassador did. At least they never mentioned it.

I need to pull myself together, you thought as you descended the stairs. Went the wrong way again.

You could surely roll your eyes at yourself.

Barely a month and I have a crush on Eragon. Good job. Very predictable. Making a face, you continued on. Just more work for me. But is it really a new crush or from years of…

“Turned around?”

The sudden familiar voice and presence spooked you. A foot moving where it shouldn’t and you stumbled with a small gasp.

One hand reached out to steady yourself on the wall just as Eragon grabbed ahold of your other arm. His grip helped keep you on your feet and away from tumbling down stone steps.

A quiet curse left your lips as heat rose on your neck.

“Thank you,” you said, muscles remaining tense.

“You’re welcome.”

His hold disappeared once you found your footing.

What are the odds? At least I didn’t hurt myself this time. You exhaled slowly.

“Are you alright?” Eragon questioned, brown gaze trying to read your expression.

“Fine.”

Setting your sights forwards, you took the next steps down carefully.

“Just…questioning my navigation skills.” You added and then muttered. “And gravity, apparently.”

The Dragon Rider kept pace with you. Quiet only for a few moments.

“I’m relieved you’re alright. It would had been quite a fall.”

“Yeah,” you breathed out and finally relaxed as you found yourselves on flat stone.

Tapestries, lights, and rugs decorated the area. Much the same aesthetic as other sparse places in the grand building. They were truly making it into a home.

“Um.” You glanced over to Eragon. “Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. Again,” he smiled.

His expression could had melted you on the spot.

“I hope you never find yourself in the same circumstance.”

“So do I.” Clasping your hands together, you took a step in another direction. “I’ll…be on my way.”

“All right. Take care.”

“Yup. You too.”

With a quick nod and smile, you scurried off. Your feet taking you anywhere but where you really wanted to be. For how could you spend more time with Eragon when your increasing feelings for him made your very being act out of sorts?

Great job, you thought sarcastically. You have officially turned into a clumsy, stumbling person under the title of ambassador. And always in front of him. Why? Am I doing a good job regardless? Maybe.

Eragon didn’t even know your full story of becoming an ambassador. You never got to the point, the beginning, of how you met Nasuada.

How would you even start the tale? Would he believe you?

Nasuada hardly did.

Yet look how far you had traveled since then.

Have you done all that Queen Nasuada had asked of you of your appointed position of ambassador? On paper, yes. In the way she probably wanted you to, nope.

There was only so much enthusiasm and professionalism you could show with the list she gave you to do.

Send updates? Sure, but you were living in a world where dragons, humans, Urgals, dwarves, and elves existed amongst others. There was so much to experience and a letter to the Queen wasn’t high on your list.

It’s weird how I got this job in the first place, you thought. If I met someone dressed odd, visually confused, and falling out of a portal then I’d keep them under observation and question them more than a few days rather than checking if they have magic. You sighed, your thoughts running off. Then again, I’m alive. Can’t complain there. Less danger here anyway.

* *

A calm, quiet night lightened any mood held with Mount Arngor. Groups of peoples talking beside a fire and others busied themselves with a personal hobby. It made the common area warm in more ways than one.

Sitting alone by a wall light was better than cooping yourself up in your room all night. You had been welcomed into a community after all, might as well see some of it. Plus you might see the handsome Dragon Rider.

All good things.

Your nose was buried in your notes and a focused curve framed your brow. You bothered no one. Content in your own task even without a desk.

Little did you know, that it intrigued a young man. One who decided to indulge in his curiosity.

Eragon took up a seat beside you. No pretenses. No greeting.

“Who’s language is that?” Eragon asked.

Your hand rose away from the parchment.

Awh, crap.

You scrambled to think of an answer that wouldn’t be a paragraph long explanation.

Peeking over from the corner of your eye, you answered, “Human.”

Perfect.

Eragon leaned over, entering your personal space.

Your eyes tracked his movements and you dared not move.

“I haven’t seen script as that before.”

“My handwriting isn’t that bad,” you joked lightly.

“What? No,” he sat back, “I didn’t mean—.” He paused once he saw your expression.

You smiled.

Narrowing his eyes playfully, he asked, “Do you have to write notes all day?”

“No. They’re mainly for me.” You gestured to the dried ink. “I don’t think Nas—uh. Queen Nasuada…. I don’t think she’d be interested in these notes. I hardly think she enjoys my letters.”

“Why would you think that?” He pressed, an edge of seriousness in his tone. “Does she not want to know everything you do here?”

Tilting your head back and forth a couple of times, you finally answered, “Because I was writing about the weather.”

Eyebrows rose, but Eragon said nothing.

“I’m serious.”

Studying you through his brown eyes was enough to make you a little self-conscious. In the very least, his gaze made you overly aware of the proximity between the pair of you.

“Why would you write about the weather?” His seriousness broke down into full perplexity.

“Because I’ve never visited a huge lonely mountain with a bunch of snow on top. What’s it like when it rains a lot? How many sets of stairs even are there? Can dough rise properly here? How are my sinuses doing lately? Important questions.”

A small smile curved the Rider’s lips.

He thinks this is funny or agrees? You wondered. So many darn questions. And he’s cute. GAH! Not now.

“You should see the mountain in the winter. The winds are strong and the cold bites.”

You hummed in thought, saying, “Perhaps I should inform her of the weather extensively.” You bit back a chuckle. “She kind of threw this job on me without much warning.”

“She trusts you.”

“That’s the thing.” You whispered. “She doesn’t know me well enough or long enough to trust me personally, but…I’m here as an ambassador and I have no idea if I’m doing it properly.”

A concerned frown crossed Eragon’s features.

You did not know where you were going with the conversation, but you needed to tell him something about yourself. Your situation. A hint of the truth.

“You’ve literally seen me trip over my own feet. I cross my fingers and hope I don’t fumble when addressing people, Eragon.”

“You’re new to the position. Not everything turns out as you expect.”

Exhaling, you glanced at your writing. More than simple notes of the weather.

“You’re doing well.” His words were soft. Genuine.

The words of encouragement sprung a lightness in your chest you could not acknowledge without tempting fate with a surge of clumsiness in yourself.

“Thank you, but…uh… I literally talk differently, spent well over a decade as a student, and I’m not from here. And yet she still sent me here.”

“What?”

“Exactly. What credibility do I have? Why me?”

Eragon turned in his seat to face you directly.

The change in his demeanor caused you to lose grip of your pen.

“Why does where you’re from matter about being named an ambassador?”

Immediately, you opened your mouth to respond with an answer about your true origins, however you said nothing. Mouth closed. You shrugged.

Eragon held your gaze in time of two breaths before speaking again.

“Is there something you can not tell me?”

“I’m not sure you’d believe me if I did, but,” you glanced over to where an Urgal sat down, “this place is very different from what I’m used to. Magic and all.”

“Will you tell me more about where you’re from one day? When you’re not writing about weather.”

“I might…if you help me find my pen.” You leaned over to check near your feet.

“Deal.” Eragon placed the pen atop of your notes.

“Thank you.”

“You’re always welcome, (Y/N).” His voice was warm, inviting.

A flutter in your stomach teased you.

Oh. Why’d he say my name LIKE THAT?

~~~

Best wishes and happy reading.)

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

coffee

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: 

Inheritance Cycle Tags: @shewhobreathesfire @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

#eragon x reader #eragon x modern!reader #modern! reader #eragon shadeslayer #where dreamers go #requested #eragon #the inheritance cycle #the world of eragon

[nahoney22]

Howdy! I just wanted you to know that your works are amazing and they make me feel so happy :3 if it’s possible I would love an echo oneshot, where the reader is anxious about her doctors appointment..I’m mortified by needles and I just need wholesome echo love to get me through the trauma that I had to endure this week.. no rush and honestly if you don’t feel up to it don’t worry about it I understand life throws you curveballs and topics vary from writer to writer. Thank you for all your awesome stories so far 💕💕 I wuv u 🥰

Just a Little Prick

Echo X F!Reader

word count: 711 words

My darling, I can only apologise for the delay. Enjoy my friend 💜 love u @echos-girlfriend

warnings: none, mainly fluff. Fear of needles. Established relationship and comfort.

After getting a nasty infection on one of the floral planets, you had no choice but to go to the nearest town and look for means of a Medical Facility. Truthfully the infection isn’t bad… yet… but that was the least of your worries.

No, your biggest worry is what they make stick into your arm in the process.

Your fear of needles stemmed from when you were young after your parents took you to get your shots and ever since you never liked them. But, maybe this time will be different.

When Tech located a place nearby, you mentally prepare yourself before leaving the ship. Though you are now glad you weren’t alone. Echo was by your side. The others did offer to come too but you didn’t want them to see you as you squirmed at the sight of a needle.

So as both of you made your way to the Medical unit, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. As did Echo.

Echo and you had been dating for over a year now, and he knew you better than anyone else. He was always there for you, through thick and thin, and you were eternally grateful to have him in your life. As we walked into the waiting room, Echo had pulled you closer to your side and placed a tender kiss to the side of your head.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered as his hand started rubbing your back gently. "I'm here for you."

You smiled weakly at him, grateful for his comforting words. Yet, the wait in the waiting room seemed to go on forever, and your anxiety only increased as the time passed. “Maker, can they hurry up?” You grunt under your breath, wiping your sweaty palms against your thighs that bounce up and down in anticipation.

Echo chuckles a little, “Patience princess,”

You roll your eyes but a smile does form on your face. You always told him that that nickname was very much the opposite of who you were but it felt rather lovely when he did.

Finally, the medic called your name, and so you reluctantly got up to follow them to the examination room.

Echo followed closely behind you, never letting go of your sweating hand (truly, you were thankful for him). As you enter the room, you feel yourself starting to shake followers by the feeling of your heart rate increasing. As the medic started explaining the procedure it went through one ear and out the other. All you could focus on was the unused needle on the desk that is soon going to come in contact with you.

As the nurse prepared the vaccine, your closed my eyes, trying to distract yourself from the impending doom of the injection. Echo, whom not once did leave your side, could see the fear on your face and knew exactly what to do. He pulled me closer to him like before, wrapping his arms around me protectively.

“Look at me," he whispered, tilting your chin up gently with his scomp. "You're doing great. Just breathe, and it will be over before you know it."

His comforting words and touch were just what you needed to calm your shaking nerves. Your eyes opened and now focused on Echo's kind and handsome face. Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself and ignored the sound of the medics approaching footsteps to administer the vaccine quickly, and before you knew it, it was over.

You let out a sigh of relief and buried your head in Echo's chest, grateful for his support. He rubbed my back gently, letting you know that he was proud that you faced your fear.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he said, smiling down at me.

Shaking your head you smile back feeling a sense of pride for overcoming your fear. "No, it wasn't. Thank you for being here for me."

Echo leaned down and kissed you gently once the medic left the room, his lips soft and warm against yours. "I'll always be here for you," he whispered, his eyes full of love and devotion.

Despite overcoming your fear, you’re still in no rush to get another one. Unless Echo joins you by your side again.

My Ko-Fi (not needed but if you fancy buying me a coffee one day then I’ll be much appreciated 💜 )

Masterlist

Tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @theroguesully @equalityforcats @mustluvecho @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory y @s1st3r @taskfork-archive @by-the-primes @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @rintheemolion @seriowan @agenteliix @kaminocasey @imalovernotahater @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @photogirl894 @swiftiexstarwarssimp @the-good-shittt

#echo x reader #echo x you #nahoney22 writes #tbb echo x reader #bad batch echo x reader #echo the bad batch #clone trooper echo #the bad batch

[scooprtroopr]

Hiiiiii Ali :} 15 + 30 for the prompts, w Steve or Eddie , but no pressure if you can’t think of anything!!

love u xoxo

Oh my beloved Syl it was a joy to write this for you, no matter how rusty I felt trying to put words to paper (or rather word doc). Thank you for the prompts and I hope you like it 🖤💕🖤💕

15. “Is this okay?”

30. “Ah, there you go. Safe and sound, hm?” 

This shouldn’t be so awkward. You’re just two friends, two really good friends, two best friends even, watching a movie together on a Friday night. A friday night that you both had turned down dates to lounge on Steve’s too small couch, and watch scary movies that neither of you were actually interested in watching. You’re the best of friends and you always have movie nights so why does tonight feel so damn different? 

Steve has been mulling this thought over in his head since the movie started 30 minutes ago. Maybe it’s the way you looked at him after he said he turned down a date just to stay in with you tonight. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself but couldn’t help but think there was something more behind the hint of a smile you gave him when he told you. He certainly couldn’t ignore the butterflies in his own stomach when you relayed similar information to him. 

If he’s honest with himself he’s beyond hopeful this unspoken thing between you will eventually blossom into something more but he’s not sure when or how to even start that conversation. How does one tell their best friend that they want to be so much more without risking all the current comforts the friendship brings you both? Steve is so wrapped up in his spiralling that the movie is all but forgotten to him when he feels you tugging on his arm. It’s only then that he registers your face, contorted in fear but trying to play it brave with an all too fake smile. 

“Steve can we -” 

“We can turn the movie off if you want” 

You’re both trying to get your words out, stumbling over each other. You can’t help but smile a little more genuinely now. 

“I guess I’m still just not really into scary movies,” you admit with a shrug. Steve can sense it’s more than your life long aversion to scary movies though. After everything you’ve both been through, why add more horror to your lives. He can tell you need some time to calm down but clears his throat before he can register what he’s about to say. 

“You uhh, you can come cuddle in. I mean if it’ll help you feel better.” The words leave his mouth in a rush, and he can feel his cheeks beginning to flush. You both stare at each other, the slight awkwardness of Steve’s suggestion hanging in the air. It’s not that you and Steve have never cuddled, but over the last few months you can both feel a change in the way you view each other. You finally scoot over and place yourself next to him sitting up far too straight to be comfortable. 

Between your sudden need to have the perfect posture of a statue and Steve’s confusion about where to put his arm to keep things friendly the awkwardness increases tenfold. Finally Steve can’t help but break the silence with an awkward, “There ya go, safe and sound hm?” He meant it to sound like a joke but the strain in his voice tips you off that you’re not the only one that feels like something is changing in your friendship and that getting too close may lead to confessions that aren’t quite ready to be shared.

But you can’t remember the last time you were this close to Steve, faces so close you could count every long lash he has. And so you take a moment longer to stare at him before pointing out the obvious. 

“Steve I’d feel a bit safer if we actually turned the movie off”

You both burst out laughing, the awkwardness of the previous moment forgotten. Steve finally grabs the remote, replacing its spot on the coffee table with his feet. As he leans back the weight shift causes the couch to dip and for you to lean in a little closer than before. Finally, both feeling more comfortable you turn your attention back to the tv. 

It’s not long before evening turns to night and you start to feel your eyes drooping as sleep threatens to overtake you. With a slight yawn you cuddle in closer to Steve, wrapping your arms around his torso, tangling your legs with his own that are still stretched out resting on the table. Even through your tiredness you can feel Steve stiffen slightly at this new closeness. 

Steve isn’t sure how to respond at first because of course having your body wrapped around his own is okay, it’s more than okay. His mind is going into overdrive and suddenly he’s not tired anymore, in fact he’s pretty sure the nervous energy coursing through him is enough to run a marathon. Your half asleep voice finally catches his attention, as a soft “Stevie, is this okay?” leaves your lips. 

Looking down at your soft face, eyes closed and on the verge of sleep, his mind finally slows down enough to let him just enjoy the moment, and stop worrying so much about the what ifs. He leans down placing a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Yeah angel, this is okay.”

oh look here's more prompts!

#ahhhh it's been a hot second but here we are writing again #steve harrington x reader #stevie fic #prompt #ali writes fic

[diedbutterflies69]

Obsession - Hwang Hyunjin

Synopsis - fooling the most powerful mafia for almost two years wasn't bad thing , but to get caught by him was.

Word count : 3.4 k

Contains: Hyunjin x fem reader, Dom! Hyunjin, angst, betrayal, smut, fingering, choking etc.

Minors don't interact.

Spying on the cruelest and most dangerous Mafia lord was thrilling, blood tingling and dead impenetrable. 'Cause even if you were a cunning master manipulator , Hyunjin was hundred steps ahead of you .

In your fifteen years career you only made huge mistake two times. Mistake that will lead you to your grave. Getting caught. You were caught once seven years ago by a group of stupid protesters and you had two options, kill or get killed.Again today, after all this years you were caught and you had no choice but to Die painfully slow.

" What even your dickhead boss was thinking when he sent such a delicate doll like you to me? Huh, the men their had no balls or pictured me as a fucking romantic?" Hyunjin spoke sitting on his comfy chair with your phone in his hand, his astonishment increasing more each second as he went through all your messages and recordings . Even if Hyunjin won't show, he was in awe of your immaculate spying skills. You were able to deceive him for nearly two fucking years . Now, the moment your mask fell, you were bought to this place, your nightmare. Hyunjin's warehouse, you wanted to rather die than be here because here you would get your bones relocated, eyes snatched off and fingers cut off .

Hwang Hyunjin wasn't known as cruelest mafia for nothing.

You had no guts nor energy to face Hyunjin. You were restrained on the wooden chair, every single muscle in your body screaming in agony, you were damnn sure that blood in your wrists were freezed, head hanging low , sweat and blood dripping from hair strands. The eyes of people who once adored and respected you now are staring at you with pure disgust, not trying to hide the betrayal they are feeling. You didn't felt guilty but little sad that you won't see your real clan ever.

" I have been framed... I have no fucking realation with those Bangs" you screamed the same shitty lie once again , clearly knowing not even the ants here would believe you but you weren't taught to speak the truth even if all the evidence is against you. Hyunjin stormed off the chair walking towards you, rage visible in his eyes, you know this day was bound to come but now that the small part of your is beating for him, it hurts you to know how much He despise you now. Hyunjin dug his fingers in your cheeks forcing you to look at him, lips pouting uncomfortably with eyes that held no remorse, just few tears from pain , having no emotions and pretending to just see him as opponent.

" Why do you have to do this? Why you too? I never sent my men to anyone's den then why do I have to get backstabbed every single time " Hyunjin screamed his head hurting by bitter reality, his powerful persona crumbling slowly, no where looking as a boss who caught mole in his team but a vulnerable man who got betrayed by everyone countless times and at the end by his lover too.

" I get paid for my job Mr. Hwang I have no grudges over you, you fellow little sad boi . Just kill me and I hope you will stop being stupidly in love with every women who looks hot and gives you a little too much love"

You let out everything with a smirk plastered on your face And that was it. This was where your story ends you thought. You yourself got feed up with proving your innocence, it wasn't worth it, you love Hyunjin and he loves you, but you weren't livin' in fairytales being happy forever is pure hoax . You were aware of the impact of your words, he must be regretting every moment he loved you. It was all coming together in his head, why after meeting you his life felt like rollercoaster and how you were always there to save him when ironically you were the one to throw him in mouth of danger at first place .

" You still smiling? Get out of it you failed your mission , I am still alive here and you are about to die " Hyunjin spoke, coming dangerously close to your face, getting more annoyed by your heartless behaviour while, his heart was tearing apart each second.

" I may have failed as agent Blue's mission but as Y/N your once lover I succeeded in making our love eternal, I may die once but you will be forever haunted by me and love we had"

This was the real you, the one who is sick in the head , the master manipulator and lover who everyone will fear to have. It was you who jumped on opportunity in spying Hyunjin and getting into his house when no one ever dared to even lurk around buisnesses he owns. It was your obsession with him, obsessed with idea of breaking heart with Country's most fearful mafia, awakening the sadist in him for your benefit.

" My regret wasting my emotions on slut like you" Hyunjin muttered from gritted teeth, controlling his anger, fully aware of how much of fool he became in eyes of his people, who was breaking down just because of a girl , the same guy who shedded zero tears on his father's funeral.

" Sushh , don't call me that I will get needy" you whispered loud enough for just Hyunjin to hear, futher fuelling his anger. He yanked your face away, wiping off his hand like you were most disgusting object ever .

" Everyone get out, if i see anyone near this area he will get killed "

Hyunjin howled and everyone scattered towards exit in fear and soon the warehouse was dead empty. Silence thick enough to suffocate one. Now you had no idea what Hyunjin had in stored for you but you knew it won't be anything good .

" So agent blue or I might say my slut, after thinking for awhile I got to conclusion that I love you, I love you more than guns and knifes , you dieing will obviously make me a lifeless man while you will be up there laughing at me So baby let's haunt each other forever " Hyunjin said circling around you and laughing like some kind of maniac.

You don't want to die but you don't also want to live , it was like you dug your own grave with your words.

"What the hell you mean?"you asked, wriggling on your chair and throwing draggers on Hyunjin's face.

" Don't stress about ropes i will untie them for you" Hyunjin said as he got on his knees pulling out a knife from his back pocket and cutting the ropes around your ankles , this was your chance to kick him right on his face, but that would be no use as your wrists were bound by handcuffs. While you were busy thinking of next step, you found all ropes around your body disappeared all at once but your wrists were still in those darn metal cuffs. Hyunjin held you by your arms helping you to stand up , his grip crushing your bones but if it wasn't for him you would have already kissed the ground due to your stuff limp muscles.

Hyunjin pushed your body to nearest surface, hundreds of boxes hitting your back painfully. A whimper making it's way out of your lips .

"Hands up" Hyunjin commanded and you obeyed a little too eagerly, to which he can't help but smirk. As your hands rested above your head Hyunjin undid the first few buttons of your shirt, not having to do much effort as the shirt was already torn from it's end. Your heart felt like it was on fire, his touch burning your skin with desire too powerful, lust visible in both of your eyes. Your black shirt completely undone, displaying your clothed tits . Your boobs were your man's greatest weakness and it looked like they still were, cause the moment he saw them , his hand cupped them in the most sensual, ete rolling way. Hyunjin was able to wake your sexual desires like no other. While his one hand was busy twisting and gropping your clothed nipple, the other one traveled further down below your ribcage, his soft and slow touch tickling your skin. You expected some kind of hard hate sex but Hyunjin was doing exact opposite, being so slow that he was memorizing your body but whatever he was doing you liked it. Maybe he was reminding you what gentle lover you once had because the way now his lips were sucking your neck like it's honey not minding the dried sweat and blood and treating like nothing wasn't there in the first place. Your moans and heavy breathing were the only noise overpowering the dead silence .

"Hyunjin please"

"Please what baby?"

" Ruin me please"

"Oh I will" Hyunjin smiled wickedly before moving his hands further down, halting at the button of your denim, you wondered why the hell you had to wear jeans the day you got caught, it would have been better if it was skirt cause that shit will took ages to get removed or so you thought Because before you know, the denims were resting at some corner of room along with your panties. You were almost full naked and already ruined while Hyunjin looked the most elegant and sophisticated mafia ever in his black clothes. It was humiliating but it was exactly what turns you on.

" how the hell you are so wet? I barely even touched you" he palmed your pussy , your juices sticking to his cold palm , his index and middle finger parting your folds ever so slowly. the thing about your body that Hyunjin liked the most was how reactive and sensitive you were , one touch and your breathe becomes unequal and body sets itself in fire. His fingers were going in and out of you painfully slow and it was exiting but you were always greedy for more .

"Hyunjin please, faster" you begged with tears threatening to fall from frustration . You knew Hyunjin himself won't be able to continue his slow pace, cause the tenth in his pants looked too painful to ignore, if your hands weren't bounded you would have grabbed him and give best handjob ever.

" As you wish agent blue" Hyunjin said your codename bitterly, and suddenly his fingers were exactly working at pace you liked hard and fast. Your soft walls were getting the tortured it deserved, thumb circling the clit, before pinching it in most crude way possible. Your moans were nothing compared to the squeaky wet noise your cunt was letting out. Your juices were dripping down your thighs and pooled below on the floor, you were close too close now, and the moment Hyunjin put his third digit inside you, you couldn't control yourself. He was scissoring inside you in most painful and toe curling way possible.

" Hyunjin i wanna cum, Can i please please let me" you begged your words hard to decipher between hiccups and moans. During this two years you spent with Hyunjin, you had rules he made in bedroom tattooed inside your brain. The first never to cum without his permission . His control freak behaviour did nothing wrong but turn you on further. Upon hearing your request, Hyunjin deliberately slowed down his moments before looking at you with evil smile and halting all his moments, removing his digits from your needy pussy, while you look at him with frustration and disappoint.

"Sorry baby, but punishment of betrayal isn't only a ruined orgasam" Hyunjin said before shoving his fingers inside your mouth and you sucked at them without further wait. He pushed his fingers even deeper making you gag uncontrollably while simultaneously pressing them harder on your tongue, spit dripping down from lips to chin, Hyunjin absolutely adored the mess he created out of you.

" Gosh Agent Blue have some manners, stop drooling like some dog , can't you right?" Hyunjin mocked you, his words travelling straight to your cunt , making your another hole drip too. Your head was dizzy, the only thing you wished was to Hyunjin dick you down right this moment , wanting nothing but for him to use your body all over again and again.

Hyunjin removed his wet fingers from your mouth, he smeared your saliva from your one cheek to another, making you looked fully fucked up , actress straight from hard porn . You asked him to ruin you and it was exactly Hyunjin did. He mumbled something like dirty little bitch , while his other hand choked you without any mercy , white. All you can see was white stars .

" Now let's gap you down there, shall we?" The thought of finally having Hyunjin inside you sent shivers down your spine, you had no idea how your knees still didn't gave out but now you sure that you will fall. Hyunjin lowered his pants and boxers, removing his cock, as you expected rock hard and dripping with precum. Hyunjin held you by your waist, while the another one positioned his cock head inside you, pussy already opening up from previous assult . He was just halfway inside you, and it felt like you would burst from the stretch, his size always leaving you grasping for air.

" Baby still can't take me full way in without crying like a little bitch" Hyunjin spoke to himself, grunting silently as your walls squeezed him up, the pleasure already spreading in his veins, with every thrust of his hips, your body was set to fire, his clothes rubbing against your bare skin , making it harder for you to stand still .

" Kiss me please" you said inbetween your hard breathing, just having epiphany that Hyunjin haven't yet kissed you. That was when Hyunjin himself realised how much his lips have longed for yours, he wasted no time before engulfing your mouth hungrily, swallowing your moans whimpers , them moment his lips touched yours, a wave of multiple emotions took over him, flashbacks of your first kiss, dinner kisses, how tenderly you kissed his forehead every morning as the first thing after waking up. Was all that love just for show? Did you ever loved him or used him? The memories of you saving him from grave situations also replayed inside his head, you had multiple chances of killing him in the easiest way but you didn't. His lips pushed harder against yours , tongue exploring each corner.

You felt a single water droplet on your cheek, mistaking it as sweat but after breaking the kiss, you saw Hyunjin crying. You never expected to be reason for his tears , it broke your heart, hating yourself for the person you are. Why can't you both stay happy like in fairytales? Happy forever.

" I am sorry.. I am sorry" you kept apologizing , bringing your cuffed hands lower, in attempt to wipe his tears. Hyunjin cupped your jaw again kissing you harder. Fear of losing you making him go insane. Your sex going from slow and sensual to rough to emotional and just ugly crying.

" You love me right? Please say you do . Please just one time" Hyunjin asked, his voice never been so vulnerable, he was sniffing down his tears but it was impossible for him to now stop crying. He patted your hair affectionately, while searching for answer he wanted.

" I love you, I really love you, it wasn't act I swear.. " you said sobbing uncontrollably. If you knew your obsession can turn something so pure like this, you won't have jumped here in the first place, rather than seeing Hyunjin like this , you will die a thousand deaths.

"I have a plan but let's first finish what we are doing okay" Hyunjin spoke after few seconds , his voice sounding little hopeful and exited like a child. You both were too busy crying that the sexual beasts inside both of you disappeared for few minutes.

" Oh yes" you said chuckling, your hands tightening around his neck. Looking in Hyunjin's eyes before resting your head on his shoulder, lips to close to his ear.

" Make me cum , you asshole" you seductively whispered, Hyunjin sweared, he could get off only by your voice. He positioned his cock back inside you, both moaning at the same time, his grip around your hips tightened as he thrusted all the way inside you.

" You will no longer work for Bangs, you will work for me" Hyunjin said, hatred laced up heavily in his voice, While his hand travelled down your stomach, pressing it down and feeling himself inside you.

" Yes i won't, i promise" you let out , words breaking , due to constant pleasure.

" Agent Blue is dead today from now on you are agent Hyunjin's wife"

#stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #straykids #skz x reader #skz angst #stray kids angst #hyunjin smut #kpop smut #skz #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin smut

[spnexploration]

Collared part 22

Pairing: Dean x Reader eventually

Series summary: Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.

Episode summary: You try to confront your fears

Warnings: quite a lot of swearing in this one 😆

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: I apologise to everyone who was expecting a particular resolution the ending of the last part, and isn't going to get it. But, you know, hold that thought... 😉

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 21 <- -> Part 23

You woke up to the sound of Sam’s door opening. You quickly scrabbled, grabbing your blanket and pillow, and fleeing back to your room.

---

Sam saw you disappearing into your room, holding your blanket. He wondered where you’d been. Watching TV, perhaps? He didn’t want to pry, but he was worried about you.

---

You looked at the bed as you walked in. It was like it was taunting you. It and all the other furniture.

You had tried, the first night without the collar. You had walked into your room and thought ‘I’m not a slave anymore, I’m throwing off the shackles!’ You had pulled back the covers and climbed in, ready to sleep in comfort.

You’d lasted maybe a minute.

The instant you were on the bed, you’d felt stressed. Your heart rate had increased, your breathing accelerated. You’d told yourself ‘it’s ok, there’s nothing to worry about’ but it didn’t help. Apparently your parasympathetic nervous system did not agree.

You felt absurd. You weren’t a slave anymore, why were you still acting like you were?

You looked at the bed. Surely this time, this time, you could do it. Just to sit on it, just to work up to sitting on the chairs elsewhere. You didn’t have to sleep in it, that was too closely tied to people doing other things to you.

But sitting. You could do that. It’s just sitting. No collar to hurt you.

You tentatively approached the bed and turned around. You slowly bent your knees, easing yourself down.

Nope nope nope nope – not happening!

Fuck it.

Fuck this.

Stupid fucking furniture. Stupid fucking room.

---

Sam was sitting in his usual seat in the library when you walked in.  He looked up and smiled at you, “Hey, do you need something?”

“No, I was just, umm, looking for something to do.”

“Well, the library is a pretty good spot for reading material,” he joked, “but unfortunately most of it is lore rather than entertainment.”

“What were you guys reading all the time in here? Before, I mean. When I, umm, had the collar.”

“Mostly looking for ways to get the collar off, but when we couldn't find any we then switched to searching the internet to try to find the witch. Sometimes I was looking up lore answers for fellow hunters, we have a much more extensive library than others have access to and since we weren't out hunting, good way to still help others.”

“So, normally you'd have been on other hunts by now?”

“Uh, yes, but we obviously had something more important to deal with here. We weren't going to leave the collar on you.”

“The collar’s gone now.”

He started to feel uncomfortable with the direction this was going. “Yes...”

“So why aren't you hunting?” Your voice was small, you seemed afraid of what the answer might be.

“Well, we have still been trying to see if any of the witch's friends are after you or us. And uh, Dean and I have discussed when we'll take another case but we haven't decided yet.”

“So I'm stopping you doing your job.”

“No! No. You're not in the way, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes.  It reminded him of what he'd thought of as your ‘I'm dealing with idiots’ look from when you'd had the collar, and he had to stifle a laugh.

“You hunted the witch, that was the whole point of the case, wasn't it? I'm just a by-product. So now-”

“Hey, hey,” he cut you off, “You are not a by-product, you are not a mistake, you are not a hassle or a hurdle or whatever else you're thinking.”

You crossed your arms. “Then what am I? I'm sure not a hunter, the one time I had a gun I didn't even try to shoot the bad guy.” Your voice broke a little at the end.

Sam stood up and went to you, putting his hands gently on your shoulders. “You know, one time I failed to take the shot at the big bad demon who had hurt me and my family. And I didn't even have a mind controlling collar on.”

You sniffled. Slowly, watching for any signs you didn't want this, he pulled you into a hug. “You don't have to have all the answers right now,” he said. “You don't have to try to define yourself. You can just be.”

---

You fled back to your room, struggling to deal with your emotions after talking to Sam. One second you felt reassured and even wanted, and the next second you reminded yourself you were in the way and he was probably just being nice.

You huddled in the corner and tried to ignore the memories in your head.

Why wouldn’t you just take the shot?!

---

Sam came by your room later. He knocked tentatively on the door, “Y/N? I have something for you.”

“Come in,” you said quietly. He opened the door carefully, noting you crouched in the corner again.

“I, uh, I got you some leggings,” he held them out to you. “If you don’t like them we can take them back. And you can go pick your own later, of course.” He was talking too fast, nervous about how you’d take this. “But I thought you might like something now. Umm, if you want. And if you like them.”

You tentatively reached out and took them. “How- how do you know my size? I don’t even know my size,” you said sadly.

“I, uh, I found a girl with of a similar size to you and told her that it was my sister’s birthday and asked what size she was. I just played up being hopeless and she picked them out for me and everything.”

You smiled weakly. “Well, thanks.”

“Do you need anything else?”

You shook your head. He gave a tight smile and left, feeling relieved that you hadn’t gotten mad at him. But your expression when you said you didn’t know your size had been heartbreaking.

---

You stared at the leggings. It was a nice thing for him to do.

But now you didn’t know how you felt. It was a reminder of what you had tried, and failed, to do yourself. A reminder that you were inadequate at every single indicator of adulthood. But, as you told yourself, it also showed that Sam cared about you. And you did genuinely want different pants.

Maybe you’d never be able to do anything yourself.

---

You couldn’t sleep again. Too many memories, too many thoughts. Right there, every time you closed your eyes.

You moved to the corridor again, and got maybe an hour or two on the floor in front of Dean’s room, listening to his soft snores. But then you woke from a nightmare, picturing Azaneth’s face as he dragged you by the hair down the corridor. You couldn’t shake the image, and you were worried if you did fall asleep again, you might make noises and the brothers would know you were sleeping in the corridor.

Fuck this, then.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester angst #dean winchester hurt/comfort #dean winchester saves you #protective!dean winchester #protective!dean #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fanfiction #collar #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dark fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural x reader #slavery #sam winchester x platonic!reader #supernatural #supernatural angst #protective dean winchester

[ijwrff]

Hello would you be able to do a Yandere Dragon Antisepticeye thing where the reader gets too close to Antis territory and so he decides to snatch them up and make them his mate?

I love this idea so much, and I'm proud of how it turned out! I have never written for a dragon before XD but I sure am happy I did.

Thank you for the request!!! I appreciate it, and hope you have a good day ^^

@serenitydusk @viciouslyyearning @thattiredanimator1t0mblr

Word Count: 1,147

Your friends are stupid. Making some bet on if you’ll be able to make it out of the forest once going to the center. It’s not like you were kids anymore, but they said if you did make it out they’d treat you to dinner. Worth it, honestly…unless the legends were true. 

You see, your whole village was skeptical of the forest. Claiming a dragon resided there. However, you didn’t believe those rumors. No one had actually seen the dragon. They simply laid down offerings at the edge. None of them had even ever moved. Wind may have altered their looks some, as well as age. But dragons? No way. 

At least…you thought you were at the center. There’s a bigger tree there than any of the others, but you couldn’t help but feel you were being watched. Who knows, maybe there’s other people in here also trying to prove their friends wrong. It felt…creepy though. You didn’t like the thought of being watched. Especially if the village on the other side of the forest was hostile towards you. 

Time passed, and eventually it started to get dark. You wandered around, and simply decided ‘I’ll just go back the way I came.’ But everything…looks different. Warped. Definitely different trees than the ones you had seen coming in. 

You were completely and utterly lost. 

That bad feeling only intensified when it started to rain. You needed to find cover…and after a while you stumbled upon a cave. Good enough. Just somewhere you wouldn’t get soaked, until the rain passed. Maybe your jackass friends would come searching for you. Or not. Some of them were fully convinced you wouldn’t make it out of the forest, but they were still your friends…

You only stood just in the entrance, out of the rain. But the wind picked up, and you found yourself having to go deeper in the cave. Might as well explore while you’re here. You might find something valuable. Ores, or traces of other people from different villages in there. Hopefully…they were friendly if you approached one. 

Your thought seemed to have been confirmed, as when you went deeper in the cave, a light seemed to shine. It was almost enticing, and you found the will to go deeper. Something roared outside, which you summed up to the storm brewing. Though it was rather loud, you weren’t that concerned. You were more intent on going deeper though, to find the source of the light. 

As you got closer, it looked as if things were shining deeper in. Maybe you really would find ores! Your friends would certainly be surprised if you came back with ores expensive enough to pay for your own meal. Show them you’re more capable than them, and at the very least more mature. You cursed under your breath at the thought of your friends laughing it up while you were in this cave. 

The cave itself also seemed to grow wider, much bigger than at just the entrance. The entrance was still huge, but the location inside only increased in size. You continued to go deeper, and when you turned the corner, you saw a massive pile of shiny objects. Gold, weapons, chests, ores, mirrors. Anything you could think of. You were going to be rich! Revered as the person brave enough to go deep into the forest and bring back piles of gold. 

But all your hope faded away when you heard a loud bang from behind you. 

“Why…how funny.” A monstrous voice, loud and booming resounded from behind you. “A little lamb came to me, I didn’t even have to find them.” By now you felt a great wind from behind you. It reeked of iron and felt too hot to be the wind from outside. 

You turned ever so slowly, and were met with the sight of a massive…dragon. Your eyes filled with fear, and you took a step back, then another. Once you were further away, you could see just how large it was. One tooth was as big as your arm, if not bigger. Some were even larger than that, still. Crooked, and seemed to be coated with blood. You couldn’t find the courage to even utter a word. 

It crept closer to you until it was close enough to touch. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. Unless…you try to run. Then, I can’t be held accountable for my actions.” It huffed, and you realized it was laughter. But you couldn’t focus. How could this be? A DRAGON?

With a gulp, you tried to plead for your life. “P-please…I won’t tell anyone you’re here, I won’t steal from you, I-” You began, but it cut you off with a snarl that terrified you to the core. You couldn’t comprehend the severity of your situation. You really were gonna die here…a dragon of all things would kill you. Not another village member, not a wild bear or boar, a dragon…a real dragon. 

“SHUT UP!” It growled, but its expression somehow turned back to amusement. “What I mean is…I don’t need to hear it. I’ve long decided, you will stay here. Your village will think you died, and not a soul will come looking for you. Because this is my forest.” It reached forward with a long and discolored claw. It was then you realized that it was also covered in blood, as it smeared across your face when he touched it. 

“S-stay here?” Your level of fear for your life grew, “I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was your forest, I’ll-” As he cut you off once again with a dangerous laugh. 

It laughed, for several moments, “You’re in my forest. Therefore you belong to me. You may leave when I allow you to. Then and only then.” It opened its jaw, and you could see what was left of a human arm in it. “I am the dragon that rules this forest…and you?” It waited for dramatic effect, and it scared you how it was right there in front of you. Something you never believed existed. 

What was it to do to you? Kill you? Keep you as a pet? Eat you as its next meal? It wasn’t looking good for you…at all. It had clearly killed many, and you had every reason to believe every person who went into this forest was killed by the dragon here in front of you. 

“You will be my mate.” It said, and laughed even more as you paled, hoping it was all a dream. “You are…the first to not cry when I have approached. Therefore, because you have invaded my territory and begged for your life, I will grant that wish.” And for a brief moment you hoped it would let you go. “I am Anti, and you…will stay with me. For the rest of your life. Because…” 

“You’re mine now.”

#yandere antisepticeye x reader #x reader #jacksepticeye egos #gn reader #yandere x reader #tw; violence #request #tw; blood #tw; minor gore #yandere! dragon! anti x reader #yandere! dragon! antisepticeye x reader

[venus-haze]

All Shook Up (Austin!Elvis x Reader) Part 2

Summary: Your and Elvis’ date doesn’t go as planned, drawing the media attention you were trying to avoid. With the release of your duet following soon after the media circus, the success of the song and increasing tabloid speculation make some people see dollar signs, rather than romance in the air.

Note: The reader can still be read as gender neutral as of this part. Thank you all for the support for the first part of this series! I know I have a million others I’m working on, but this one has been a lot of fun to write. Please do not interact with my blog or posts if you’re under 18 or post ED/thinspo content.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: None.

Part 1

After Elvis and the Colonel had left, Ray and Jeanne were kind enough to let you rant and rave to them about the nerve he had to make insinuations about you and your personal life. Ray asked you again if you were sure about wanting to collaborate with Elvis, promising he could find you another up-and-coming artist to do the song with you, but, out of spite for the Colonel and genuinely liking Elvis, you remained firm in your choice of a duet partner. 

When Jeanne had brought you back to your apartment later that night, she let you know that your schedule for the following day would be short, with meetings in the afternoon and a promotional radio interview around 4pm. Just as you figured, you’d have the evening free to spend with Elvis.

For once, you had a morning to yourself and savored every moment of sleeping in two extra hours and actually having time to make yourself a nice breakfast. Just as you were about to bring your food out to the balcony, the buzzer for your apartment rang, and the doorman, Bill, informed you of a delivery that had arrived with the morning newspaper. You let him know to send it up, and racked your brain for what could have been sent to you. Sometimes companies would send you free merchandise, hoping for celebrity advertisement, but those usually went to the label’s office.

You opened the door to find a bright bouquet of flowers next to your paper. Bringing both items into your apartment, you set the flowers on the kitchen counter and read the card that was attached.

Dear Y/N, 

Thank you for yesterday. I hope these will do until I see you tonight.

E.P.

You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. It was sweet, especially since all you’d done the day before was get a rough version of the song together and talked afterward. You normally didn’t think too much of it when you went on dates with other celebrities, but something about Elvis excited you the way no one else had.

Putting the flowers in a vase, you kept looking at them throughout the morning. When Jeanne stopped by around eleven to get you, she smiled when you told her who they were from. The rest of the day flew by, with your radio interview to end the day. It went well, mostly just some softball questions from a DJ who regularly played your music. When he asked about your upcoming album and hearing about last minute changes being made to it, you teased the collaboration, not explicitly mentioning Elvis, just that you’d be working with a newer artist–someone controversial. You refused to give more details, knowing the mystery would add buzz prior to the song’s announcement.

Ray had gotten the label to agree to make it the lead single for your upcoming album, meaning its success would make or break the album sales as a whole. It still wasn’t officially announced yet, and you knew Ray was spending part of his day getting contracts and scheduling worked out with the Colonel. 

The interview ended, and you made it back to your apartment by five, giving you an hour to get ready for the date. You picked an outfit you knew you looked good in. Sure, you weren’t trying to attract any media attention, but you sure as hell wanted to attract his. After checking over your appearance for what felt like the millionth time, you looked at the clock. It was already a few minutes past six. 

If he had to cancel, you would’ve at least expected him to have the decency to call. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, you waited a few more minutes, and your intercom buzzed. You jumped up to answer it.

“Y/N, Mr. Presley’s here for you.”

“Thanks Bill, let him know I’ll be down in a minute!” 

You made your way downstairs to see Elvis standing near the back entrance of your apartment building, shifting from leg to leg every few seconds.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry I’m late,” Elvis apologized as soon as he saw you. “Things got held up while I was recordin’ for this TV show. I got here as quick as I could.”

“I get it, trust me,” you smiled, giving him a hug. “The flowers were lovely, by the way, thank you.”

He returned the hug, visibly more relaxed. “I’m glad you liked them.” 

“The drive to the restaurant should be quick. I figured it’d be better for us to be driven there than try to go ourselves,” you explained, leading him over to the car that was waiting outside.

Elvis nodded. “Sounds good.”

You hadn’t been lying, the drive to the restaurant was quick, though he spent most of it staring out the window as the bustling city passed by. The place was a real dive, with its exposed brick walls and dim lighting obscured by the cloud of smoke that hung in the air. Everyone seemed to speak only in whispers, the loudest noises being the occasional clinking of wine glasses or scraping of utensils on plates. Even the music was subdued, and Elvis figured this was the kind of place where people went if they wanted to go out but not be seen.

You handed the host a twenty, “The usual table, please.”

“Of course,” he nodded, slipping the bill into his coat pocket. 

Elvis leaned down, whispering to you as the host led you to a secluded table in the back of the restaurant. “You gave him twenty dollars?”

“Why not?” you said, thanking the host as you and Elvis were seated.

A waiter immediately came by with a bottle of complimentary wine, courtesy of the restaurant owner, who waved to you from the kitchen door. You lifted your empty glass in acknowledgement, but noticed Elvis shift uncomfortably as the waiter poured the wine.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, placing your hand on his forearm.

“You know so many people,” he said, mumbling an awkward ‘thanks’ to the waiter when he left to let you two look over your menus.  

“I’ve been at this for a long time.”

"So, got any advice for someone green in the music business?" he asked, a bit of laughter in his voice.

You hesitated to answer with the witty remark he was expecting. You liked Elvis a lot, more than you reasonably should for someone you only just met. You thought back to the musicians you’d befriended only for their fame to be fleeting, drinking and dancing one weekend and disappeared another. Elvis had too much talent to be a one-hit wonder, but his inexperience made him a prime target for anyone looking to make big bucks off of him.

"You have to be careful who you trust. This industry is cutthroat, and there are people who want to take advantage of you, bleed you dry," you said. "When you’re famous, you’re not a person anymore—you’re a commodity. That’s all some people will see until they can’t get anything else out of you."

He nodded slowly, before taking a swig from his glass of wine.

"I’m not saying this to scare you, but you need to look out for yourself."

"I got the Colonel lookin’ out for me. He’s done a lot to help my career already," Elvis said.

You nodded, though that wasn’t what you had said, he needed to look out for himself. As much as you trusted Ray and Jeanne, you liked to look over your contracts and finances every so often, just to be safe. You didn’t like his manager, maybe because he made all those assumptions about you upon your first meeting, but something about him seemed off.

“Speaking of, where’d you tell him you were going tonight, anyway?” you asked.

He grinned. “I didn’t.”

“Sneaking out to see me, I’m flattered,” you giggled.

The rest of the night continued like this, the two of you flirting in the privacy of the restaurant. He went as far as to kiss you while you were waiting for dessert, his lips soft, sweet and flushed from the wine you’d been drinking. 

“Can I take you out again?” he asked softly, his lips hovering just above yours. 

“Yes,” you answered, closing the gap to kiss him yet again.

As the week went on, you and Elvis worked on recording the duet and getting photos taken in preparation for promoting it. You’d spend late nights in the studio together under the guise of working or would call cars to bring you to your secluded dates in dingy bars and restaurants. You loved the thrill of it all, but you especially loved being with Elvis. 

The two of you would call each other at all hours of the day or night, having similar schedules with meetings and interviews. You tried not to think about what would happen when Elvis inevitably left New York to go back to Memphis. He’d admitted to you that the city was overwhelming, but you were the best thing about it. 

When you grabbed the paper the morning that the single was released, you felt like your eyes were going to pop out of your face. While not the headline for the day, prominent bold lettering read The Raunchy Romance of Rockers Y/N and Elvis - EXCLUSIVE on page 6. Frantically flipping to the first page of the story, you were assaulted by photos of you and Elvis on your first date, and your second one, and you bringing him up to your apartment through the back entrance after said second date. 

‘What started as a musical collaboration between the rock n’ rollers became an affair of passion as the two worked closely together. A verified anonymous source told us that Elvis and Y/N have been spending late nights in the studio together. When they’re not sneaking around restaurants and bars like a couple of teenage hoodlums–’

You couldn’t bring yourself to read anything past that. You slammed the front door shut, collapsing onto your couch. They’d been sitting on the story for at least a week and only waited until the single’s release day to publish it. Your own career was one thing, but so many people wanted to see Elvis fail, you’d feel guilty as hell if you played some role in ending it before it began.

The phone rang, and you jumped before hesitantly picking up.

“Hello?” you asked tentatively.

“I don’t know why I keep doubting you, Y/N. You know your stuff when it comes to the charts,” Ray said cheerfully. 

“What are you talking about, Ray?”

“It’s only been out for a few hours, and it’s already number 10. By the end of the week it should be top of the charts–”

“Number 8 now,” you could hear Jeanne shout in the background.

“Shit, by the end of the day even. Congrats.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the papers Ray? All that stuff about Elvis and me, you aren’t mad?” you asked.

“No, obviously this publicity worked out in your favor, but I’m most concerned about this ‘verified anonymous source’. I’m going to ask both labels to investigate,” he said. “I’m getting more security at your apartment too, since people know there’s a back entrance now.”

You sighed. “Okay, thanks, Ray.”

“Jeanne’s leaving soon to pick you up. The Colonel demanded we squeeze him and Elvis in for a meeting today, so prepare yourself, ‘cause I can imagine he’s not as happy about things as I am.”

“Alright. See you later,” you said.

A headache began throbbing in your temples, and you got aspirin from the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you considered everything. You weren’t sure how long you’d spent lost in your own mind when there was a knock at the door. Shit. Jeanne was here, and you were still in your pajamas. She looked exasperated when you answered the door.

“Y/N, you aren’t even ready to go?” Jeanne asked.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know where my head is today,” you said. “I’ll be a few minutes.”

“You’re worried about Elvis, aren’t you?”

“Do you think I’m stupid to like him so much?”

“If I’m being honest, I like him a lot more than anyone else you’ve dated.”

You nodded, “Thanks, Jeanne.”

Wasting no time getting ready, you were out of your bedroom and heading to the lobby in about fifteen minutes. When you’d walked outside your building, you were shocked at the people holding various newspapers and tabloid publications, asking for your autograph on the stories about you and Elvis. You’d never seen a reaction like this to any of the other relationships the media reported on. People must know it’s true this time.

You were silent on the way to the label’s office, resisting the urge to chew on your nails. You and Elvis had promotional appointments booked through most of the day but depending on how the meeting with the Colonel went, they’d either go smoothly or be the most awkward thing you’d ever experienced. 

As soon as you walked into the conference room, Ray gave you a look that made you know to prepare for the worst. Elvis had a lovesick expression in his eyes as you sat down next to him.

“So, the cat’s out of the bag,” you said, breaking the silence and maintaining a facade of unapologetic confidence.

“Y/N, I told you my boy does not go on dates, and now every media outlet in the country is claiming he’s been canoodling with you for weeks! His image is in shambles because of you!” The Colonel raged.

“Colonel, don’t take this out on Y/N. I was the one who asked ‘em out. It was my decision,” Elvis said.

“Did you not consider your career for a second, my boy?”

“Of course he did,” Ray interjected. “The single’s only been out since this morning, and record stores are already selling out of it. I’m getting calls from radio stations begging Y/N and Elvis to come on for interviews. The public loves celebrity couples.”

The Colonel narrowed his eyes at Ray. “What are you getting at?” 

"We can make this work, for both parties," Ray said. "Lucy and Desi own television. People flock to theaters to see Bacall and Bogart or Leigh and Olivier play out their real life romances on the silver screen. It appeals to the sense of voyeurism, being able to feel like they’re getting an intimate look at something off-limits. Y/N and Elvis can be that for music.”

The room was silent yet again, until the Colonel began nodding in agreement with Ray. “Yes, well, you do make a good point. However, if Elvis and Y/N were to date, whether in reality or for publicity, it would certainly no longer be reported on as ‘raunchy’. You two will be a respectable couple, no sneaking around bars or going up to apartments at 2 o’clock in the morning.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. We wouldn’t have had to sneak around if you weren’t such a pain in the–

“‘Course, Colonel,” Elvis said, taking your hand in his. 

Ray and the Colonel spent the next few minutes crafting an acceptable romantic backstory for you and Elvis, something that would be palatable for most audiences and explain away the late-night rendezvous. It took all of the excitement out of the relationship’s origins, but if it meant you and Elvis could date, you supposed you’d go along with it.

“So, how does that sound?” Ray asked.

“Time to break some hearts with these next few interviews, huh?” you said, looking at Elvis.

He grinned. “Guess so.”

Taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @spideysromanoff

#elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis prelsey x reader #elvis #elvis 2022 #austin!elvis

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

New Records, New Beginnings

A/N: Y’all I haven’t posted a story on here in four months. Four months. I’m genuinely sorry but also first semester of college high key kicked my ass. So here’s a little Christmas gift from me to you, and yes it’s a bit cliche but Hallmark-y type things are what we all love around the holidays (don’t lie, you love those stupid chick flicks too). Hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Word Count: 2,852 words Warnings: A lot of fluff, like a lot of fluff.

You had spent most of your Saturdays like this, and nothing much had changed.

You would go out around midday after lunch at home, spend time shopping around whether it be physically buying something or just window shopping. It was a way to destress and reward yourself after a week of work that you felt was much deserved.

The only difference now was the increase in people shopping. Around late November and early December your usual shops became more crowded with people trying to find the perfect Christmas presents for everyone they knew. You were at least smart enough to have already completed your shopping for everyone in the first week… except your dad.

The guy who may have been your favorite person in the world also happened to be the one who was hardest to shop for. You loved him dearly, and while yes he did have a wide array of hobby on the spectrum of being a dad, it didn’t make it much easier to shop for him.

So you had landed yourself in a few record stores today, trying to find any album he would like. Generally he wasn’t that picky on music, he loved lots of artists and bands, but combine that with your mentality of record buying being “you better listen to it” and the task was becoming increasingly harder by the second.

You didn’t necessarily notice anyone around you, it was relatively busy given it being a record shop, maybe six to seven other people in the shop, but you were on a mission to find one of the few records you knew was actually worth spending money on given your fathers listening habits. You were also trying to draw away from buying yourself anymore records, given the two you already had snug under your arm.

Gerard, on the other hand, was like any other holiday shopper. Except he managed to be even worse.

He never shopped for Christmas gifts ahead of time, it was always about a week before when he started. He scolded himself every year for doing it, but never found himself changing the habit. So here he was, rushing into a record store and desperately trying to find this one damn record his dad wanted for his birthday… that happened to be tomorrow.

He didn’t scan around, take in any of these new surroundings, instead he promptly led himself to the cashier’s desk, nearly pleading to see if they had it.

“One copy left,” The older man from behind the counter said. He reeked of being pretentious based off of this record hobby, something Gerard found ridiculous when everyone was doing it now. “Back left corner.”

“Great, thanks.” He quickly made his way to the far left aisle and all the way down to where he was instructed to go, eyes scanning over the different bookmarks in-between each album marking a new artist or new letter of artists. He looked up, thankfully seeing you only about three feet away to put the breaks on his legs, but was met with ultimate grief and defeat.

Of course you had to be looking at the same album he needed. And of course, you placed it under your arm with the rest of your records.

So, he had one of two options here: One was to go home defeated, show up tomorrow with some lame card he got at a pharmacy for his dad, and get scolded at by his mother for not being more on top of these things. Second was to approach you, talk to you, and just see if you were willing to let him have it.

But he was bad at talking to girls. Like, really bad.

It was something his friends had joked about before, how he would much rather be reading or drawing than ever talk to a girl. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to (although many times he really didn’t) it was that he felt like he couldn’t. Women were just… hard.

“Um, excuse me.” He spoke up, nerves bundling in his stomach. Hoping this would be an easy interaction for him, he saw you turn around and instantly he regretted everything. You weren’t just a girl… you were a pretty girl. A very, very pretty girl.

“Hm?” You hummed a bit with your eyes growing a bit wide in curiosity. Wow, those eyes, he thought to himself, never seen that color before.

“I’m, um, not trying to be rude or anything,” He began nervously, “But my dad’s birthday is tomorrow and I’ve literally been to four other record stores and no where has the record he wants. This one only has one and you have the last copy so I was wondering-“



“Sure.” You replied before he could even finish, moving your arms a bit to reach for the one you had just grabbed, snugly fit close to your body. “It’s for Christmas anyways, for my dad too, but I have more time to find another one.”



“Really?” He asked, somewhat amazed that you would give this to him, and somewhat amazed that he could speak to you. “I- I really appreciate this, like you have no idea, really.”



“It’s totally fine.” You tightly smiled, “Besides, if not that one I’m sure I can find another one my dad might like.” He nodded.

“Um, thanks again.” He said with a kind smile and mini bow of appreciation which you chuckled at before he walked back to the register.

“Just this?” The same guy at the front asked him. Gerard nodded, placing the record on the counter and searching in his pocket with his other hand for his wallet. “I’m surprised you didn’t at least ask her out.” He mentioned as Gerard grabbed his card from his wallet, head shooting up.

“Excuse me?” He asked.

“I mean, not only were there clearly some sparks, but she gave up the record to a total stranger.” The older man explained, “That’s a new level of nice.”

Gerard looked back briefly at where you were, still browsing but approaching closer to the counter, before awkwardly clearing his throat and swiping his card. As soon as it was approved, he removed it, placing it back in his wallet and grabbing the bag.

“My advice, kid,” The man continued, “Don’t waste up an opportunity like this. The worst she can say is no.”

Gerard stood there for a brief moment stunned, and wondering what to do next. Yes, this stranger had a point about you, but the thought of asking you out despite the fact he really wanted to seemed beyond his ability. But then again, he did ask you for a record. That’s the same thing, right? You could’ve said no then and you could say no now, but that’s the worst that could happen.

With no actual foreseeable good outcome, Gerard retraced his steps to finding his way back to you. This time, you seemed more attentive as he approached you, looking up at him with those same stark eyes again. “I just wanted to say thank you, one last time.” He began, “You really saved me from having to deal with my mom scolding me tomorrow.” You lightly chuckled.

“It’s no problem, really.” You admitted, still with a smile on your face.

“Is there anyway I could pay it back maybe?” He asked, trying to put on some level of confidence, “Like coffee, maybe?”

You seemed a bit taken aback by his request, but after a brief moment of thought, responded, “Sure.”

Gerard could feel his muscles release their tense holding as he took a small breath of relief. “Great, uh, could I get your number, maybe?”



“Yeah, of course.” He handed you his phone as you typed it in, handing it back to him. Y/N, it read, fits her.

“Okay, well, see you soon, Y/N.”



“See you soon-“



“Gerard,” He finished ahead of you.

“Gerard.”

“Are you ready, Gee?” You asked from the front door, throwing your keys in your bag and awaiting your boyfriend to appear from the living room.

“Yeah, just a sec.” You could hear the frustration of him fighting with his boot echo throughout the hallway, a rough sigh following afterwards in frustration. “Here.” He finally said after a few more seconds, walking down to you and grabbing his coat from the rack.

Just a year or so ago you would have found it a pretty large disruptions to your average Saturdays had another person been mixed into that equation. But now, Gerard comfortably stood by your side riding along your Saturday activities. He didn’t mind it much, more than happy to play the cart-pusher and attempt to control your irrational purchases, like buying every Christmas scented candle you could get your hands on, or anything that had some sort of a dog or cat on it.

But he found some peace in just walking by you and getting weekly errands done plus having some fun while doing it. He had learned to try many new things on these adventures: tofu for the first time, a face mask, and honey barbecue chips were just a few. But it seemed like most items you gravitated towards said something small about you, which helped him to learn all about you quicker.

It also happened to give him a lot of ideas for presents, which was helpful this time of year. He had already found you a couple hoodies you had fallen in love with, a new pair of slippers, and a few other smaller items, leaving the bigger ones to be more creative and thoughtful.

“I haven’t been here in forever.” You remarked, pulling into the space right in front of your local record store.

“I know, right?” He replied, “It’s just so easy to buy this online.”



“True,” You agreed, shutting the engine off, “But at least local stores have cooler, older things that aren’t crazy upcharged.”

“Also, true.” He smiled, getting out of the car and waiting by the edge for you to get out too.

One nice things about record stores is that they never change all that much. Everything was basically the same here as it was last time, which led to a much more relaxed experience looking through each section. Aside from a few new titles and artists, almost everything sat as it was.

Gerard always kept a close eye on you in these situations. He had learned little hints you gave as to when you wanted something. Eyeing it for a bit longer than usual then gasping a bit, excitedly showing him something with a fun fact about it, maybe even blatantly just saying you wanted it. He kept a mental list of all the things you had wanted, trying to make an effort to check off every one (well, almost, bigger things like a dog were for a later discussion).

But here, in the record store where he met you and you him, where you had managed to save him from a hell of a scolding from his mom, his eyes stayed practically glued to your fingers as you scanned each title, lingering on some for longer than others. He stayed like this a good few minutes but keeping his distance and hoping you wouldn’t notice. He had eventually resorted to sneakily walking around and picking out records you wanted or ones he knew you liked. Again, the mental list of these artists stayed glued to his mind.

He had realized relatively quickly that his hands were getting full. He had picked out six or seven right now and hadn’t even made it a third of his way through the store. He took a sigh, looking back to make sure you were occupied and not looking anywhere near the register, before walking up and placing the records down on the front counter. “Would you mind just holding these behind the counter while I look around a bit more?” He requested, “My hands got kinda full.”



“No problem.” A slightly familiar voice echoed, Gerard looking at the older man behind the counter who was smirking, looking between Gerard and you.

Not thinking much of it, Gerard went back to his shopping habits, picking out record after record. He had gone up for another drop-off trip before you finally approached him, “Hey hon.” Your voice spoke up behind him. He quickly turned around, looking down to see the gorgeous woman he got to call his. “I didn’t find much, I was planning on going to the Target here to grab a few things but it still looks like your shopping.”



“Yeah, I am a bit.” He admitted with a small smile, “Go on without me, I’ll meet you there and pull the car closer to that lot.”



“Ya sure?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowing as they always did when you seemed to genuinely care. He smiled even more with a nod.

“Yeah, I’ll be good here.” You nodded back, giving him a kiss on the cheek before leaving the store.

Despite the distance making Gerard grow slightly more uncomfortable, and despite the fact he knew well that you were just a few store fronts away, he obliged to the opportunity before him and quickly collected every other record he knew you would want. The ridiculous figure holding at least half a dozen records under each arm was a man in love, every customer silently knew it. Because no one would buy that many records. That was a new level of head over heels.

“All set?” The cashier asked, the wrinkles on his forehead curling up as his smile grew, the question sounding more rhetorical and satire than anything.

“Uh, yeah.” Gerard awkwardly responded at the realization that he looked just a bit like a fool. The pile of albums in front of him stared right back as one by one they were scanned and placed into bags. He questioned how he would just sneak them by you, and with no avail to any answer.

As the total rang through his ears, he quickly slipped his card out of his wallet, handing it over firmly and not turning back. The cashier inched a smile, inserting the card into the machine. “So, things are going well?” He asked. 


“Yeah, ya know, life’s going alright-“



“Especially with the girl.” He commented back before Gerard could finish.

“Yeah, uh, really well.” He awkwardly chuckled at him, his lovesick state clearly clouding his vision at times.

The card reader beeped, allowing the older man to remove the card with the receipt and hand it back to Gerard. “Hey kid, do me a favor.” He requested, Gerard quick to nod his head and grab the bags, “When you guys are considering a song for your first dance, come to me and I’ll buy it for you two on vinyl.” Gerard turned to flustered as his eyes went wide in a moment of shock.

“Oh, um, I’m not sure-“



“You’ll be there.” He smiled from, clicking his ben against the desk, “Trust me.”



“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Gerard mumbled into your hair as you stood by your Christmas tree together. It was by no means Christmas, a couple days before, still, but you wanted to make sure to open all of your presents before you each went to your own families for the holiday.

“You too, hon.” You smiled back, tucking further into the arm draped over you his hand rubbing the small of your back. “Presents?” You asked cheerfully, he nodded back with a smile plastered across his face.

“Presents.” He declared back.

It had been a solid 15 minutes of ripping open the wrapping-covered boxes before hitting the last one, one which specifically Gerard requested you do last. You could tell by the shape alone that it was a record, a new one on top of the other stack of new ones next to you, but as you slowly ripped it open you realized what it was. You let out a small laugh as your fingers gripped the side of the two records.

“It’s supposed to make up for last year.” He briefly explained. You looked up at him and smiled.

“It’s perfect. Now I can actually give my dad this.” You replied, “But what about the second one?”



“Oh, I figured you give one to your dad, and then we keep one on hand.” He continued, “It was what caused us to meet.”



“That’s very poetic, Gee.” You softly said, standing up and walking over to his spot on the couch. You cupped his face lightly, leaning down to give him a soft kiss on the lips, which he gladly accepted and he moved his lips against yours. “I love you.”



“Love you too, sweetheart.” He smiled up at you, his hands now gripping your hips. “I figured we could put it up on the mantle somewhere, make sure it’s seen.”



“Sounds perfect.” Your hands delicately ran through his messy hair as he let out a purr of sorts in response, “Even if we never spin it, it’s perfect.”

#gerard way #mcr gerard #gerard way fanfiction #my chemical gerard #gerard way x reader #gerard way x you #gerard way x y/n #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader #mcr #mcr fanfiction