#even if it did mean that I had to figure out how to draw feet

[impishjesters]

I have this idea floating around in my brain for a while about a reader who likes to draw and because they have a crush on Jax they draw him. Jax eventually steals their notebook and probably teases them about it lol.

Jax x Crushing!Reader

warning(s): innuendos, bullying/teasing, Jax note(s): Look it's me and Jax, there's gonna be innuendos or some spicy wording and bullying. It's like a packaged deal or something. A/N: If you see me mixing Angel Dust's speech into Jax, no you didn't. If you didn't notice, I don't know how to tease and not be an asshole, so pretty on the brand I guess.

Caine had given you a sketchbook upon request, it was a little different than an actual sketchbook but it did the job regardless. Ever since your arrival, your fingers have been itching to draw, there were so many new sights and so much new inspiration.

There were so many things, so why did it seem like the doodles of Jax ended up on almost every page?

Easy, you had a crush on the apathetic, mischievous jerk named Jax.

Why? Well, now that’s the million-dollar question. He’s not inherently awful, no, that’s a lie, he’s an asshole. You don’t really have a good read on him yet but he’s funny! That’s gotta be redeemable, right? However, his jokes are usually backhanded and often involve being mean at the expense of others.

Okay so he’s a walking red flag but there’s something about him that has you crushing on the purple bastard.

Looking down at the sketchbook on your lap shows another two pages filled with sketches of random things, though most of the page is filled with Jax. You had taken to sketching things back in the real world to remind yourself of home, but eventually, those sketches would involve Jax doing mundane things.

Thing’s like sitting at a table eating real food, though you took creative measures when drawing an open mouth on him, it still looked off but it was serene and domestic. Then there’s the little sketch at the bottom of the page of Jax leaning against a window and staring outside. You’d manage to nab the pose and angle when he was leaning against one of the many random geometrical-shaped things in the main room and later added in a window.

It was embarrassing that almost more than half of the pages in the book involved Jax to some degree. Some pages weren’t even subtle, the whole page taking up a detailed portrait version of the male. Sometimes you even got creative and put him in different clothing.

Thumbing through the pages you saw there weren’t that many empty pages left. You’d need to ask Caine for another one and figure out what to do with this one. It couldn’t be left out in the open, you knew Jax had keys to everyone’s room and wouldn’t put it past him to go snooping. He’d already questioned you about the sketchbook before.

You’d been so focused on the sketchbook that you hadn’t noticed the man of the hour walking up. Jax noticed your intense focus and peeked over to see the infamous sketchbook on your lap, and with practiced ease managed to yoink it right off your lap.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? You finally showing me what you keep your nose buried into?”

A yelp left you, stumbling to get on your feet you rushed to him and began swatting at the book and of course, he’d keep raising it just out of reach. “You took it! I didn’t say you could look at that!”

“Nah, pretty sure you said I could look at it.” He continued to lower and raise the book as you jumped to grab it. Sure he was curious before, but with a reaction like that? How could he not be even more curious? What kind of seedy shit were you drawing? Or perhaps some spicy nonfamily-friendly content?

Jax ignored your frantic words and opened the book to a random page, he was going to tease you about whatever dumb stuff you drew since you always had your nose in it but all he saw were sketches of himself.

A normal person might get embarrassed and hand the book back, but he’s not a normal person. It’s a little freaky, he won’t lie. A glance downwards shows him you’ve gone silent in front of him, simply staring down while he invades the privacy that was your sketchbook.

Your face is red and you look like you’re going to cry any second.

He’s a jerk, he was going to fuck with you, and he still is, but for the moment he’s taking in all the creative little pieces involving his face. Ya know, he never really thought much about how he’d look in other clothes. Gotta say he looks pretty snazzy in something that isn’t these shitty overalls.

“You know if I didn’t know any better,” his fingers still flip through the pages as he steps closer, circling you. “I’d say you like me.”

“I don’t.”

The reply is rushed and he rolls his eyes at the blatant lie, he’ll humor you this time. “Oh yeah? Does that mean you’ve got sketchbooks for everyone else too? Cause I’m pretty sure this is the only one I’ve seen you with.” He taps a doodle on the cover that gives away it’s the same notebook he always sees you with.

Tears trickled down your cheeks, you knew he was a jerk but this felt like too much. You just wanted your sketchbook back and to run away to your room, maybe pin something in front of the door that would render even the key useless.

His eyes roll the second he sees a tear, he’s not really seeing the problem here. You’ve got a book full of creepy—okay not completely creepy, he’s a good model so good on you for seeing that—sketches of him and he’s truthfully honored. It’s clear that you didn’t do this with everyone, so he’s honored to be your little model. Besides, it’s not like you actually have a crush on him, right?

Minutes tick by of him simply eyeing you, you’re still crying and it’s starting to get a little ugly and snotty, ugh. But you aren’t trying to further deny his little comment about you liking him. He’ll have to have a little talk about that later, what you could possibly see in him because he knows that you aren’t a sadist—oh, are you a masochist? That’d explain a lot.

Jax sighs and closes the book but doesn’t hand it over, simply putting the free hand on his hip. “You know if you wanted to see my face all you gotta do is ask. I’ll gladly show you this handsome face any day toots.”

Of all the things you thought he’d say, that wasn’t it. “H-huh..?” You embarrassingly wipe away the tears and snot before looking up at him.

“You heard me. Ya know I love this face too, very handsome. Maybe we can get Caine to put up some artwork in the tent of yours truly.” Jax wouldn’t consider himself vain, but you did have a way of making him look more, dare he say, attractive.

“I-I don’t… I don’t understand…” Was he still making fun of you?

He rolls his eyes before playfully hitting your head with the book. “Jeez, and here I thought you were smart.” Jax leaned over like he was speaking to a child and pushed the book to your chest. “I’m saying, the next time you wanna draw me I’ll give you a front-row seat. Maybe even take it to the bedroom so we won’t be disturbed.”

You push the book into his face to cover up that growing smirk and blush furiously. “Wh-what?! N-no I-I don’t…!” It’s hard to tell if he’s being serious or not in his offer to model for you, especially with the bedroom comment.

“C’mon, clearly you got taste. I mean that book is filled with sketches of me. I’ll commend you on your immaculate taste.” Jax taps the book before playfully bopping your nose. “At least let me give you the pleasure of seeing me close up. I’ve never been a model before so you might have to get a little hands-on to get me the way you want me.”

As the innuendos continue your face feels like it’s getting impossibly red and warm. Somehow this is worse than him telling you a sketchbook full of his face is creepy, in fact, you’d almost prefer it because your poor little heart can’t take anymore. You let out a yell and it stops his tangent but that stupid smirk of his never disappears.

“Offer still stands. You know where to find me.” Jax turns away but not before throwing a little wink over his shoulder. He still plans on pestering you about what you see in him, but for now, he’ll cut you some slack. You’re about as red as Ragatha’s hair and as much as he loves to see it, he didn’t plan to get this sidetracked when he saw you on your own.

He’s got a sucker to prank.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax

[loislane41319]

Scare.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Wordcount: 795

Summary: Spencer comes home to an empty apartment.

Warnings: Panic attack.

Note: I finally posted again! Thank you for reading this. I greatly appreciate it.

No matter who or where you are or what your going through: you're doing great, even if you're simply surviving. Things will get better.

Story:

Spencer couldn’t wait to come home. He’d had a long day of doing paperwork, attending meetings and getting interrupted before finishing any story he’d started telling. He was tired, everything hurt and all he wanted was you. He just wanted to see your face, hear your voice and feel your touch. He just wanted you.

As he opened the front door, he expected to be met with the smell of food, the sound of your favourite music playing softly in the background and you, moving to the rhythm while cooking dinner. Except he wasn’t.

Instead, he was met with a deafening silence. No food, no music… and no you. “Y/N?” Spencer called your name as he felt his stomach drop. His head started spinning as he checked every room hoping to find you, but fearing the state you might be in. All he found were empty rooms and as the possible explanations for your absence kept getting more and more gruesome, his breathing quickened. Eventually, after checking every room in the apartment thrice, his greatest fear came creeping into his thoughts. What if you had just… left? Why wouldn’t you leave? You were a beautiful girl with the world at your feet. You could do anything, be anything and what did you have to stay for? Him? The too tall, sociably awkward know-it-all with the too long curls, the lanky figure and way too many too long rants? No way.

Suddenly his throat was being squeezed shut. He was all alone in his apartment and he couldn’t even catch a breath. How much more pathetic could he get?

Spencer was so stuck in his head, he didn’t notice the tears running down his cheeks or the door opening.

When you walked into the apartment you found your boyfriend on the ground. Spencer was curled up in a ball, sat against a cupboard, gasping for air. You immediately dropped the bags you were holding and within two steps you were by his side. You sat down next to him, wrapped one arm around his shoulders and grabbed his arm with the other. “Spencer? Breathe, just breathe. Can you do that for me?” You asked him. Spencer shook his head. “Okay, then just try to breathe out longer than you breathe in.” You told your boyfriend. He nodded, closed his eyes and grabbed your hand.

 Fifteen minutes both of you sat there. Fifteen minutes Spencer tried as hard as he could to get his breathing under control and after fifteen long minutes, he succeeded.

Your boyfriend was currently curled up against you. His arm was wrapped around your waist and his face was nuzzled into your neck. You just held him while he softly cried into your shoulder. “Spence, can you tell me what happened?” You softly asked him. “I thought you’d left.” He whispered softly, nuzzling deeper into your neck. “I was just getting some groceries. What does that have to do with your panic attack?” You asked him, drawing small circles on his back. “No, I thought you’d left… me,” Spencer then told you, “I- When I came home and you weren’t here… At first I thought something bad had happened, I mean, you’re always here when I come home. But, when I didn’t see any signs of a struggle… all these bad memories came back up and I got overwhelmed.”

“Memories… Like your dad leaving and Gideon leaving and then you just assumed…”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, it sounds ridiculous.”

“Spence, no. Your feelings matter. You get to feel scared and all those people leaving you… that’s traumatising. So it’s not weird or stupid that when you come home to an empty apartment, that isn’t supposed to be empty you get scared. Even if you don’t have to.” You told Spencer. “Thank you.” He whispered. “Spence, you don’t have to thank me. I will always be here. I promise I won’t ever leave you.”  You said sincerely. Spencer moved his head from your shoulder and looked you in the eyes. “Why?” He asked you softly. Inside you, your heart broke, but you didn’t let that show. Instead, you answered his question. “Because I love you.” Now Spencers grip on you tightened. His tears started streaming again as he pressed his lips to yours. You poured all the love you felt for the man in front of you into the kissed until you both had to pull back for air. Spencer tried to wipe the tears from his eyes, but they wouldn’t stop. “I-I can’t say it back yet, but I do feel the same way.” He told you, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “That’s perfectly fine. I can say it enough for the both of us.” You said and kissed him again.

#criminal minds #spencer x reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg #bau #bau team

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Damian has learned many things since joining the family. He's found joy in Gotham even fighting Rouges and stopping crime he's made more happy memories here than he did while in the league.

Although he will always love his mother and be grateful for everything she has taught him many of those skills have been retired and he can't say he's partically angry about it.

What he's truly enjoyed most is his family Father and Richard, even Todd when he cooks and lets him sketch the alley cats that frequent his terrace.

'So Baby Bat guessing you weren't invited to the brother meeting tonight".

-

The pencil rolls hitting the floor. Jason was half paying attention more focused on the pasta he's stirring.

"I don't understand, what do you mean by that Todd"

Now Jason knows he's not exactly kept up to date on all the family's lovely adventures. But he can't place why Damian's voice is shaking.

Or why his little brother seems so hurt a part of him wants to scoop him up and wrestle his problems back to wherever hell they came from. But something stops him.

"I figured you were here cause of Dickbird and Timmy aren't you" he says carefully.

" Why would Drake and Richard have anything to do with my presence here." He spits, pausing.

"Are they together, Richard said he had something important to do and why would that be with Drake."

"Shit Dami sorry I must have made a mistake on the day it's the 16th not the 23rd my bad. The thing with Timmy is next week photography or something."

"Idiotic as ever Todd I will go back to my drawing now."

Jason would feel more offended at the blatant dismissal if he hasn't just lied.

Because Baby Brothers shouldn't be told that they aren't Dickie birds little Robin always.

That Dick is taking Tim on their weekly getaway to gone only knows where. That always seems to end with blood and death.

That their eldest brother is more fucked up then all of them combined and that only one is trusted enough to see what that means.

That as kind as Dick and even Tim can be they aren't always like that. There angry, vengeful, sadistic little shits that burn as much as they warm.

How's do you explain to the kid who's thinks the sun shines out of someone's ass that they are off galivanting with the favorite brother.

That the kid got off lucky for trying to kill the golden apple.

You don't.

You make food and watch him sketch the cat who's seen almost as many fights at Jason himself.

Ingnore your own twisted jealousy and pretend you wouldn't cut off your own arm if replacement asked.

Because only one Bat is unaware of who's the deadlist of who is lurking in the shadows weaving.

It's not Jason's place and more importantly he can't destroy the very pedestal that Jason still worships.

"Come on Dami, stop bugging the fucking cat and come eat."

Who's he to explain about the brothers who would put each other above all others even their own.

How do you explain that if you weren't practically the son of the last flying Grayson you would be another hidden name on a list more guarded than Bruce's emotions and that you would be rotting six feet under dead at the hands of your beloved Richard.

#tim drake #batfamily #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batfam #bamf tim drake #bamf batfamily #Damian is Dicks son not his Brother #Jason is scared of both Dick and Tim #he should be #Dick and Tim are killing assassins #no one is invited to the party and Jason only knows cause he gets Drunk dialed

[mochatsin]

When MC can Draw (Dateables Version)

Drawing and the arts is one of the things you’re most passionate about. There’s a lot of things, and certain demons, that are out there to give you inspiration to draw. How will the dateables react when they find out you’re a great artist?

Wow my first dateables version of my prompts. Hope i’ve written them all well. This version is requested from my tumblr :0 thanks for reading!

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

Diavolo

Diavolo took notice when you saw your eyes lingering among the paintings during your tour around his castle. There were portraits of prominent figures from Devildom, from old kings to spearheads that shaped their history. He explains how there’s one royal painter for every royal king, thus the similar styles in every portrait. Since you’re an exchange student then it’s essential you learn about these demons, and Diavolo is happy to tell their tales for you. 

He was taking a stroll around RAD before going home when he spotted you in the school’s gardens, seemingly preoccupied. He wanted to call on you but he was more curious to see what you were working on. Diavolo watches you closely from a distance, afraid that you might hide from him if you spot him like how the others do.

To his surprise, he saw you working on a portrait of him in a style that’s similar to the ones he’s shown you. The way your eyes lingered on those paintings when he toured you around before, it clicks to him now that you were trying to study the art style itself as well. It’s almost identical, but with your added personal touches to make it unique.

His towering size doesn’t hide him very well when you immediately spot him at the corner of your eye. The pillars don't do justice to how large Diavolo is as a demon. You try to conceal the art you were making, it’s embarrassing when the subject of your art is actually a few feet away from you. But he quickly smiles as he walks over to you. Now that his cover's blown, he definitely wants to see everything up close now.

“I didn’t mean to be rude and spy on you like that. But you don’t need to hide anything! Even from a glance I could tell you’re talented. Would it be alright for me to see what you were working on?” You can’t really turn down such a polite request, but you most certainly can’t turn down the volume of his voice that’s booming with excitement as he flips from one page to another.

When you finish your portrait of Diavolo, expect it to be treated like a national treasure. A beautiful artwork of the young prince made by the human exchange student? It deserves the best frame that Diavolo can get his hands on. Expect Barbatos by your door the next day with high quality art supplies. He’ll treat you like one of the finest royal artists to ever live in Devildom.

Barbatos 

He invited you for some afternoon tea at the castle as thanks for lending him a hand in his duties the other day. Though there were some other matters around the castle that Barbatos needed to attend to, he asked for you to stay put first and help yourself to some of the treats he had prepared beforehand. 

You always admired the intricate designs of the tea set Barbatos always prepared whenever you came over. Since you’re a bit bored, you took out your sketchbook and decided to draw the fancy little tea cups while you wait for Barbatos to come back. 

The tea sets that Barbatos prepares always have beautiful pattern designs that range from dainty floral prints up to sets that look more expensive than the Mammon’s weekly bills due to how much the patterns are embedded in gold. If you look closely, you could probably spot little devils on it and it’s cute in its own way.

Little did you know he’s been actually observing you for a while now. He finished his last minute duties rather quickly since it would be rude to keep a guest waiting and that’s when he spots you keeping yourself busy by drawing, your glance going from the tea set to the paper. He wanted to admire that look you have whenever you concentrate for a little bit.

He lets out a small chuckle which gets your attention, a gentle smile on his face as he approaches you. “You’re quite the talented one, aren’t you?” Barbatos says as he takes a seat next to you, glancing at your sketchpad. “Maybe you can tell me more about your work while we enjoy some tea together?” 

Barbatos wouldn’t push for you to show anything, but he’ll be happy once you do. He’s impressed at how well you can make patterns that range from something simple to ones that have intricate details. He likes how you can make a portrait of the tea sets he’s been preparing, and secretly he grabs his finest sets to see if you’ll be inspired enough to draw it as well the next time you visit. Maybe he can also pull some strings to put your own pattern designs onto an actual tea cup and serve it to you next time. 

Simeon 

Sometimes you go to Purgatory Halls to get away from all the constant nagging and chaos of the demon brothers. It’s nice to find that peace and quiet you needed to do your daily tasks or just laze around since you felt like it.

Simeon lets you stay in his room for today while he tries to focus on writing for his novel. He plans on introducing a new character soon and since he trusts you, he starts talking about the character itself. How they compose themselves, what they’re like, the possible role they’ll play in the story, you get all these details before the chapter is even written.

Once he’s done talking he lets you get back to whatever you were doing while he continues trying to figure out how to write the next few parts. Though he soon hears the sound of scribbling pens and wondered if you were doing some homework? He could’ve sworn you were done with those already.

He turns around and to his astonishment, you were sketching the character he was just discussing with you earlier. Given his detailed accounts of the character, you were able to design it well. It’s an understatement to say Simeon is happy. He is ecstatic. You brought this character to life in just a matter of minutes all for him, and that brings Simeon more ideas on how to proceed with writing. 

“You never told me you actually knew how to draw. Your talent at visualizing is exceptional.” Simeon would listen carefully while you talk about your journey to the arts and how you honed your talents while he looks through your other works. Afterwards, he starts to praise your art like a professional critique, telling you what he loves in each work.

His heart skips a beat whenever he finds your old works that’s dedicated to his novels. Learning that you’re also talented with the pen like he is, just in a different element, makes him feel a little bit closer to you. If you’re not busy, he may ask for your help when it comes to visualizing something he’s having a hard time with. He’ll treat you to something nice as thanks!

Solomon

Being Solomon’s apprentice means that there are times he’ll require you to assist him with his research. There’s a few spells and potions that he wants to work on, though they all require a lot of preparation work. You both agreed on doing a bit of divide and conquer on those tasks so that it won’t be too time consuming to finish. 

You managed to do a lot of chores for him which is quite tiring, though Solomon is grateful for your efforts and he has one last request from you which he said is essential to the potion he’s making. There’s a delicate Devildom flora that Solomon harvested recently, and you have to make sure the flower stays fresh because it can wither very quickly if not taken care of and the potion would fail if that happens. He’ll take it off your hands once he’s done preparing everything else.

Normally, one would’ve kept it in a vase full of water and called it a day. Though you decided to not only put it in a vase, but draw up a summoning circle that would keep it fresh. It’s something that you learned from Solomon’s notes, and the sorcerer is astonished you drew the circle so accurately enough to work on your first try when he came to check up on you. 

“Now how did my little apprentice actually manage that so quickly? That would’ve taken me several tries to get the patterns done.” Solomon says with an amused smirk, staring at the circle in awe. Getting one line wrong would’ve instantly killed the flower but right now, he sees that not only is it very much alive but it looks more vibrant than ever. The magic is more potent, Solomon is sure that any potion he makes with its petals would be very effective.

While he was waiting for the potion to boil over in the cauldron, he decided to learn more about this hidden talent of yours. He makes you draw some summoning circles from one of his books, already starting out on the difficult types to draw. All of it is perfect somehow since you’ve had a history of drawing, so your hand is quite steady and you act like it’s no big deal. Solomon will definitely want to see your works in the future.

“A lot of sorcerers can cast magic, but not everyone has the talent to make summoning circles as quickly and accurately as you do.” That’s big praise coming from humanity’s strongest sorcerer. Though that means he’ll want to exploit that talent and call you over every time he needs it in his experiments, it’s a win for him either way because he gets to spend more time with you. 

Luke 

There’s a new event in Devildom where the angels and you were teamed up to open a stall that’s focused on selling sweets and pastries. Luke appreciates your input when it comes to taste testing his sweets since none of the demon brothers are able to give proper critiques like you can, Simeon tends to be a little too nice to Luke, and Solomon is never allowed near the kitchen. Ever. 

Your company is always welcomed and Luke would gladly add any of the sweets you recommended onto the menu. You always come back to the House of Lamentation with a bag full of samples you both baked that day, which always brings a smile to the brother’s face. 

You come back to Purgatory Hall only to find Luke seemingly having a dilemma. He reassures you that it’s not because of the batch of sweets and pastries since you helped him perfect the menu. It’s the fact he needs to make a logo and design for the stall. If it can’t attract any customers then all the effort you both put into baking this would go to waste. 

You sat down with Luke to brainstorm with him, watching the angel stare blankly at the paper with frustration while you ask him for what ideas he’s already had so far. Luke had to go back to the kitchen to pipe some frosting on the cupcakes, though by the time he came back you were already done with the sketch.

Luke is awed at the design, seeing as how you incorporated both his and your idea for the stall in a way that still blends well together. “Y-you’re incredible! How’d you do that so fast though? You know what, let’s show Simeon first!” If Luke had a tail, it would be wagging from sheer joy. He’d be so excited to get the decorations and paint for the stall that he almost forgot about the cupcakes in the oven. 

By the time the stall is finished and running, Luke would definitely flaunt your talent not just for helping him bake but for also designing the stall. “You like the design? They did that!” He would say with an excited grin on his face before pointing at you. Luke enjoys working with you that you both barely notice the brothers getting jealous over the amount of time the angel gets to spend with their human. 

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

[reythenerdypisces]

things that I overlooked in PJO the first time / small, funny things I noticed during my reread

Part 3: The Titan's Curse

The truth was I was kind of disappointed to hear that she liked her new school so much. It was the first time she'd gone to school in New York. I'd been hoping to see her more often.

I tried to concentrate on little things, like the crepe-paper streamers and the punch bowl - anything but that fact that Annabeth was taller than me, and my hands were sweaty and probably gross, and I kept stepping on her toes.

"The General?" I asked. Then I realised I'd said it in a French accent. "I mean... who's the General?" I want this part to be in the show

"Sweet! Let's go! [to CHB]" said Nico. this breaks my heart. he was so excited in this book

Tyson thought Annabeth was just about the coolest thing since peanut butter (and he seriously loved peanut butter).

"How would you kidnap an immortal goddess? Is that even possible?" "Well, yeah. I mean, it happened to Persephone." "But she was like, the goddess of flowers." Grover looked offended. "Springtime." you tell him grover

"That's some serious danger you're facing." Connor Stoll said. (I liked how he said you and not we.) I'm just imagining the rest of the campers not bothering to go on quests cause it's always the same few demigods and they don't care, they're just chilling safe at CHB while Percy and Annabeth do their things

The creature looked at me sadly. "Moooo!" But I couldn't understand his thoughts. I only speak horse. Percy Jackson speaks two languages: English and Horse

With a shiver, I realised that five hundred or a thousand years from now, Bianca di Angelo would look exactly the same as she did today. She might be having a conversation like this with some other half blood long after I was dead but Bianca would still look twelve years old. ouch

"It wants to kill us!" Thalia said. "Of course." Grover said. "It's wild!" "So how is that a blessing?" Bianca asked.

"That's us," he said. "Those five nuts right there." "Which one is me?" I asked. "The little deformed one," Zoe suggested.

When she smiled at me, just for a moment she looked a little like Annabeth. I know everyone talks about this part but I can't help but bring it up again, they are so cute

"Woah, first of all, I never said anything about love. And second, what's up with tragic!" little does he know. also, Percy is so incredibly insightful in this book but he's also so jealous of Annabeth and Luke and so upset about the idea of her joining the hunters yet still can't figure out that he likes her

"Seven hundred feet tall," I said. "Built in the 1930s." "Five million cubic acres of water," Thalia said. Grover sighed. "Largest construction project in the United States." Zoe stared at us. "How do you know all that?" "Annabeth," I said. "She liked architecture." I cannot explain how much this little bit means to me.

The girl I'd just tried to slice in half yelped and dropped her Kleenex. "Oh my god." she shouted. "Do you always kill people when they blow their nose?" Rachel's here!!! I love her

Five minutes later, Zoe had me outfitted in a ragged flannel shirt and jeans three sizes too big, bright red sneakers, and a floppy rainbow hat. someone draw this and tag me. what an outfit

Suddenly it occurred to me: this had happened to her before. She had been cornered on Half-Blood Hill. She'd willingly given her life for her friends. But this time, she couldn't save us. How could I let that happen to her? he is the most empathetic, wholesome guy, I love Percy

"Can't this go any faster?" Thalia demanded. Zoe glared at her. "I cannot control traffic." You both sound like my mother." I said. "Shut up!" they said in unison. I kind of wish we got more Thalia and Zoe interactions... they would've made such a great enemies to lovers dynamic, if Zoe didn't die

"Get away from my daughter!" Dr Chase called down, and his machine gun burst to life, peppering the ground with bullet holes and startling the whole group of monsters into scattering. "Dad?" yelled Annabeth in disbelief.

Grover went off with his satyr friends to spread the word about our strange encounter with the magic of Pan. Within an hour, the satyrs were all running around agitated, asking where the nearest espresso bar was.

"No," I said. "I choose the prophecy. It will be about me." "Why are you saying that?" she cried. "You want to be responsible for the whole world?" It was the last thing I wanted, but I didn't say that. I knew I had to step up and claim it. "I can't let Nico be in any more danger." I said. might I remind you this boy is 13/14 and has the whole world on his shoulders (both literally at some point and figuratively)

I feel like these are just getting longer and longer but again, I will be back for part 4!

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #pjo disney+ #the titans curse #rick riordan #perseus jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #rachel dare #thalia grace #bianca di angelo #nico di angelo

[rainyinautumn]

Scar does not lay down and die. He’s fought too hard to go out like that.

It’s a strange feeling, to know that he’s in full control of when he dies. No one chasing him down, no ticking clock, no curses. Sure, he doesn’t have regen, but he has a full row of hearts—a whole life ahead of him that he can spend in Sunflower Valley.

He doesn’t remember until he arrives that there’s nothing for him there. It’s about fifty percent craters. Some of them are blackened by the wither, and others by gunpowder. Despite it all, though, there are still sunflowers. Not many, but they’re facing his way when arrives, as if trying to be the welcoming party he never had. Scar sits down at the edge of one of the craters and swings his feet back and forth over the drop. It’s not deep enough to kill him, hardly even deep enough to take a heart off of him. The ash settled at the bottom is picked up by the wind, blowing into Scar’s boots and hair. He doesn’t wipe it out. It’s his only reminder that he wasn’t always alone in this world.

Across the crater, the air shimmers purple. Before Scar can figure out what it is, the color coalesces into a ghostly figure with a faint halo that shines just like the sun. Grian smiles at him wanly and holds out a bouquet of poppies and lilacs.

“You’ve won, Scar,” he says. “It’s time to go.”

“But I’m not ready yet,” he objects.

“He didn’t get me any flowers,” Scott mutters as he sits down beside him, transparent and crowned with a dozen tiny stars. “Trust me, you’re ready. You’ve won. There’s nothing left.”

“Well, I never had much anyway,” Scar says coolly. “Can’t say this feels too different.”

“I know.” Pearl’s voice comes from his other side along with the soft glow of the moon, and his heart aches, unwilling to turn toward her. “I know, but the game’s over, Scar. You did well.”

He wants to tell her sorry, but that would be disingenuous. He wouldn’t change a thing about that fight—the only thing he regrets is that it had to be her.

“More than well, I’d say.” Martyn takes shape in the center of the crater, his coral crown glittering the angry red of Mars. “I’m loving the trend of villainous winners we’ve got going here. Who do you think’s gonna be next? Joel? Gem?”

“Maybe we’re due for a more heartfelt finale,” Scott says, sending a sidelong glance Scar’s way. “No offense.”

“Didn’t you win through a battle royale?” he retorts.

“Didn’t we all?” Grian sighs. “It’s just the way of the game. Killing people. It’s a bit hard to get a heroic winner out of that.”

Scar stares at his feet. “I thought I’d feel more relieved,” he admits. “Like I’d- like I’d, y’know, won something. Now that the adrenaline’s gone, it’s all just kinda…”

“Empty?” Grian fills in for him.

“Disappointing?” Scott suggests.

“Sad?” Pearl says.

Martyn kicks a rock. “Fleeting?”

“One of those things,” Scar sighs. “So… now what?”

“I already told you,” Grian huffs, tired but good-natured. “It’s time to go.”

“Die, you mean,” Scar says. “It’s time for me to die.”

Martyn draws an axe that looks far more corporeal than the rest of him. “It’s my turn to take you out,” he tells him. “I was planning on a nice quick beheading, but I’m open to suggestions.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Scar stammers, scrambling backward. “I don’t get to choose how I go?”

“Well, sort of,” Grian explains. “You’ve won. The only thing that can take you out now is another winner.”

“Pearl zapped me when my time was up,” Martyn says. “Didn’t hurt for more than a second.”

“And what if I don’t let you?” Scar asks.

Scott puts a hand on his shoulder, but it goes right through. “There’s no way around this, Scar.”

“Martyn has to kill you,” Pearl reiterates. “It’s not up to him, or us, or you. No one can move on until you’re gone.”

“Says who?”

Grian gestures broadly at the horizon. “Who do you think?”

The Secretkeeper looms in the distance, a dark sky overhead. It’s watching him. Scar knows it is. It’s waiting, impatient as ever, for its final task to be completed.

Martyn hefts his axe over his shoulder. The move should be threatening, but there’s no malice in it. His hand sits firmly on the handle, white-knuckled and duty-bound, but the rest of him is relaxed. He doesn’t want this to be a fight.

“I guess everyone’s waiting on me, huh?” Scar says. “Let’s get this over with.”

He walks up to Martyn and kneels, removing his hood to expose the back of his neck. He feels the cold edge of the axe blade placed against it and screws his eyes shut.

“Any last words?” Martyn asks.

“I’m taking away all your reputation points for this.”

He laughs, genuine and nostalgic. “Fair enough.”

The axe lifts, and a breeze ruffles Scar’s hair as it comes back down on his neck.

There’s a searing flash of pain, and then nothing. His eyes stay closed, staring at the darkness.

“Scar,” Grian says, his voice closer than before. “Scar, it’s done.”

He blinks warily, taking a moment to process the view he sees. The rest of the world now has the shimmering transparency of the ghosts, while the other winners are now solid and real in front of him. Grian is still holding the bouquet—when he extends it to Scar, it changes shape, twisting into a flower crown.

“Wait,” Pearl says. “One last thing.” She waves her hand and two glowing sunflowers wrap themselves into the wreath, blooming side by side. “There.”

Grian steps forward, right in front of Scar, who’s still kneeling in the center of the crater. “Congratulations, Scar,” he says. “You won.”

The crown is a perfect fit.

#couldn't just write nothing about scar's win so here have this #the last winner has to kill the most recent and there's technically nothing in canon that says I'm wrong so #clutching this headcanon forever #goodtimeswithscar #secret life #slsmp spoilers #trafficblr #relevant rainy things

[take-everything-you-can]

What makes a man

A/N : This is the second piece into the angiverse or my dad Eddie series of blurbs. A series of Fathers Days throughout Eddies life. One Where his father wasn't so kind, another when he surprised Wayne, and one more where you surprise him. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

P.s Photo in header are all from google straight up not gonna lie to yall have no idea who edited the Eddie and Wayne photo but its phenomenal.

P.p.s update : the photo of Eddie and Wayne was created by user @fefemunson on Pinterest and insta 💕💕🖤

Dividers by @cafekitsune

18+ MINORS DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem reader

WC: 4K

TW: Angst ( Al - need I say more...) Fluff ( Wayne's gift, doting husband, baby girl Munson) Smut ( Breeding kink, F receiving, fingering, unprotected PIV, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, accidental edging, squirting) If y'all see anything I missed please let me know. Not really edited all that much.

Sweat rolled down the side of Eddie's face as he sat crouched behind a car in the packed lot of a junkyard, a few towns over from Hawkins. The sun had set but the heat waves, in the middle of June 1975,  had become almost stifling as he kept an eye on his surroundings. Al had promised that if Eddie just kept watch this one last time, while he took care of some business, then he could get him the guitar strings he had his eye on.

It had only been two seconds, two seconds Eddie let himself get distracted as he watched the fireflies light up the darkening sky in swirling patterns. Two seconds and Eddie had missed how a tall figure made its way over to the door in which he watched his father disappear behind. Two seconds and he was too late to let out his crow call to let Al know there was someone coming. 

“Run.” A gunshot and a flash of his father was all Eddie heard and saw before his limbs were weaving in and out of old abandoned things that people no longer needed. Things that people no longer wanted. Losing traction as the rain from the night before made the clay and mud beneath his feet slide. He had caught up to Al, Eddie had never been an athlete but when it came to running for his life, he had more practice then one should at his age.

“Stupid, How could you be so fucking Stupid?” Al was catching his breath as he slowed, pretty sure that the men he was stealing from had given up at least for now. “I mean I ask you to do one thing and you can't even do that right.” Eddie walks beside his father and he’s heard the spiel time and time again. “If you think I’m getting you those guitar strings after this, You can forget it.”  Eddie knew he was never getting those strings, and if he was being honest with himself he knew this was the only time he was going to get with his father. That's all he ever wanted , to feel like he was needed and if that meant he would have to sit through some words that hurt, then that's exactly what he would do. 

He thought to two days ago. Hawkins Elementary had fathers day arts and crafts sweep through the halls and through classrooms as the day approached within the upcoming weekend. He decided that he was going to draw what he knew best. Eddie had drawn a dragon, large and fierce , one only a brave man could face. Sword in hand and threatening he had drawn his father slaying the dragon that plagued the princess’s  nightmares around the realm. He was so excited to present it to his father but as he sat and heard the words his father was saying the longer the picture sat in his backpack until it littered the bottom of it at the end of the year. 

Eddie would never give the picture to Al, in fact he would grow to forget about it. 

It took only a few months as the fall leaves began to change colors and fall to the ground, Al would find himself behind bars. Life without parole for numerous crimes that would leave Eddie with nothing but his mother and His uncle. It would be a very very long time before He would even hear the sound of his voice again. 

June 1985 had become as hot as Eddie thought it possibly could within the trailer. Wayne was currently out shopping for two new units, one for the living room and one for Eddie. As the men of the house could no longer stand having their hair drip sweat in their eyes and slick down the back of their knees. So they counted couch change and broke open piggy banks for the luxury of air flow. 

Eddie had found himself trying to pry the window that had been painted shut open in his room. A small one across from where his bed sat, and it took all of his strength and an hour of his time, but he had finally been able to crack it. Sweet relief had started to settle around him as a breeze picked up and his curtains swayed in as he took a look around his room. Clothes scattered and books in a pile, a few cups on his desk and sheets of paper askew, Eddie decided to start cleaning his room.

 A half clean floor surprised Wayne as he looks in on Eddie as he arrives home with the new units. Almost not wanting to say anything at all to stop Eddie in his task, but he curses himself as the words leave his mouth. 

“Come help me unload this truck boy.”  Eddie slips on a pair or worn out sneaker and trudges through the inferno only to be met with a realization. It was colder outside then it was in the trailer and he stood on the shared porch in disbelief. 

“How is it cooler out here than inside?” 

“Not for long If i can help it, Now come one and give me a hand before I melt out here.” 

Eddie helps Wayne take both units into the house and he holds them up as Wayne takes his time to install them, making sure that he eases the process as much as he can for his uncle.

 Eddie Holds his breath as Wayne plugs in the unit in his bedroom and the second the small little green light pops on and revs the A/C Unit to life, That breath leaves his lungs in a huffed out laugh as he jumps up and down in joy. A laugh from Wayne as he pats Eddie's shoulder as he leaves the room. “Glad you like it. I’m hitting the hay so keep it down here okay?” Eddie nods his head towards his uncle as he lifts his shirt up over his head and just basks in the cool air hitting his skin for what feels like the first time ever. 

Eddie opens his closet to hang a few stray long sleeve shirts he had  found scattered across the floor. Giving each the smell test before grabbing hangers. Who needs a long sleeve tee in this heat anyway, he thinks to himself. He stops and bends to find an old shoebox that had fallen from the top shelf and somehow landed upside down. Small trinkets from his past had toppled out and onto the floor, a few movie stubs, from trips to the cinema across town. His first DND Handbook , a small pick-me-up Wayne had brought home from a thrift store for him one day after finding out he had the flu.

 Then a small folded up piece of paper caught his eye. A Knight in shining armor depicted as slaying a dragon, one with a tail that could take out entire cities and claws like daggers. A sword through its skull as he shields himself from the bloodshed,but the face of the knight confused him. He remembered drawing the picture for his father , his rounded features and brudish stance, but the more he looked in on the knight he realized the picture he had drawn was not rounded but more sharp. The knight was more gentle as if it hurt to even have to slay the dragon but for his princess he would do anything. He had drawn Wayne, not his father. 

The picture would continue to lay in the box , and Eddie would put the box back in its rightful place on a shelf in his closet , but Eddie would always know that Wayne would slay his dragon. In fact he realized Wayne had been slaying them for years all in the sake of his protection. This brought a smile to his face as he left his room and made himself some dinner, making Wayne a plate to leave in the fridge so he would have something to eat before having to go to work. Tomorrow he wouldn't wait for the phone call from his father that would never come, instead he would spend it with his dad, a man who took him in and loved him for all that he was. 

An Early Morning of June 1988, Eddie paced by the phone for what seemed like hours. He started off his day by sitting , but the nervous bile that would rise in his throat had him up and down. His mind was set on hearing disappointment but you reassured him he would hear nothing of the sort. Finding himself sitting, knee bouncing as if it had a live wire in it, you start to separate things off the stove into their own spots on the kitchen aisle. A breakfast fit for a king, sausage and eggs , bacon and pancakes. All that was missing was Coffee. 

The night before you and Eddie had gone to Waynes for dinner leaving a small gift that he wasn’t supposed to open until this morning. You were sure he would open it as soon as you left but the line had stayed silent and Eddie knew for a fact he would call if he did. Given the gift he was receiving you had hoped the phone would ring sooner rather than later simply for the fact that you wanted Eddie to have peace of mind. Each second that passed you saw in Eddie’s features that he was going to the dark and weathered places. 

You and Eddie had given Wayne a mug. A small pink mug that when Wayne opened it reminded him of a diner he had not far from his house when he lived in Tennessee as a child. As Wayne poured his coffee into the mug he noticed that when he went to take a sip his hand caressed within it perfectly, a new favorite he would have to keep by the sink. As his last few sips drained the cup he saw an inscription on the bottom of the inside.

‘Pa Pa needs Coffee first’ 

A shrill ring from the telephone made you and Eddie nearly jump out of your skin. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear but before the word “hello” could leave his mouth Wayne had already started.

“Are you serious? Don’t be playing no games with me boy, cause if i have a heart attack then i'm taking your scrawny ass with me! You better be telling the truth or so help me -” 

Eddie's sniffles match Waynes as he just nods his head as if the man on the other end of the line can see him.

“I’m telling the truth, we’re having a baby girl, Uncle Wayne.”  Eddie turns as he hears a small sob leave you . You had been watching the man in front of you tell the most important person in his life the news of having your first child. It broke you in the best way.

 Eddie motioned for you to come over to him as he couldn't pull the cord far enough to reach you. He wrapped both of his arms around your neck as he held the phone to his ear letting Wayne rattle on his congratulations while you let the tears fall and land on his shirt. Eddie hoped this would be one of those moments you never forget. One that even when you were sitting next to him old and gray , he hoped this would be a memory he could always reach out for.

 Eddie hung up the phone and still having you wrapped up in his arms led you backwards. He stopped next to the fridge and opened it opting for orange juice instead of coffee. He had told you about a week or so ago that anything you couldn't do, he wouldn't do, and It was becoming a challenge. Coffee and a cigarette had been his daily routine for as long as he could remember, but having you struggle was something he was not going to let you do alone. So this morning he poured you a glass of juice along with his own and you both sat and ate the breakfast of champions, a slight Happy Father's Day on the tip of your tongue. 

Summer on the cusp of beginning in June of 1991 had bees buzzing and roses blooming . A cranky tot had been an alarm clock for you and Eddie for the past three weeks. Not only had your daughter reached the terrible twos but the heat was something she didn't like in the slightest. A stressful few months of Eddie working non stop and you finishing rotation on night shift had left you no time alone together. That would all end tonight. 

Wayne had agreed to take Angie for the weekend while you and Eddie had finally convinced your jobs to give you the time off. A rushed drive to Waynes gave you that pit feeling in your stomach and the tears that stained Angies face at your absence gave you tears to shed of your own. Mom guilt was always something you would struggle with. How could you not? Eddie squeezed your knee as he drove, peaking at you every so often to sooth the pit, he felt it too, but you deserve this. Eddie Deserved this. 

An early check-in to the hotel you had booked gave you enough time to get dressed and listen to Eddie complain about the restaurant you were taking him to having a dress code. You packed him a black blazer and a maroon button up ,but the man refused to wear slacks. Absolutely threw a fit about it, so he compromised and wore black jeans that you had to inspect for rips. While you wore a black dress that fit snugly against your soft tummy, coming up short against your thighs. If you bent over the entire place would be getting a show but you were saving that for your husband. God your husband, you loved the sound it rang through your brain, an earworm the word had become since you married. Husband, the father of your child, the man you gave your everything to and he gave you back all of himself in return. 

The dim light of the room made you squint at the incredibly small print of the menu in your hands and as you look across the table you see Eddie doing the same. 

“You see a burger here anywhere?” you roll your eyes. 

“Eddie, we did not drive an hour into the city for you to order a burger from a five star restaurant.”

“Why not?” you could see the slight slip of the corner of his mouth. You smile and turn your focus back on figuring out what to eat before the waiter comes back. The pasta sounds nice, the steak on a table across the way looks divine. You settle on a Caesar salad , Eddie orders steak and fettuccine. A beer in front of Eddie pairs with your glass of white as his hand comes across waiting for you to take hold. You indulge him as you pick up your glass with your other hand. Soft circles across your knuckles have you leaning into the table.

“Have i told you how incredible you look tonight?” Heat rushes through you at his tone, seep sultry, dark. A twist in where he laces your fingers with his own and a gleam in his eye. You know exactly what he wants to hear.

“Oh yeah? Me? What about you over there?” You return the look as the waiter sits your food in front of you interrupting whatever he was going to say.

 A tight smile is all he gives as he picks up his beer and takes a sip. He picks up his knife and you watch as he tries to cut into his steak, lifting your glass and taking a long sip you take the edge of your heels and slide it up his leg. He nearly drops his fork on the ground at the unexpected touch. Eddie stares wide eyed as he brings his food to his mouth slowly taking the bite.

You look away as if your heel isn't still making its way to his knee and sliding in between his thighs, placing your shoe right against his groin. You can see the way his body stiffens and instantly his hand is slammed against the table. It gets the attention of your waiter as if the sound was a call of his name. When he asks if you are enjoying your food and if you need anything Eddie rushes to get the words out.

“Yes! Good! Everything is delicious! Can we get the check please?” he obliges as he walks to grab the tab for the two of you. Giggling as you take in the wild look Eddie is giving you.

"You done already babe?"

"You are going to be the absolute death of me, woman.”  you pay for dinner as a treat for Fathers day, shit this whole weekend was for Fathers day. Eddie gave you hell for paying but the bruising grip on your hip as you walked through the restaurant had you knowing he was going to pay you back tenfold. 

Barely making it through the door to your hotel room Eddie had already shed the blazer you had made him wear. Lips catching between teeth and struggling to undo buttons has you both breathless and frustrated. Eddie pulls the shirt up and over his head yelling fuck it as it soars across the room. The rattle of his belt buckle sends a shiver down your spine as you sit and struggle to undo the clasp of your heels. Eddie kicks the denim that pooled around his ankles to the side as he jumps up onto the bed. His knees against the sheets, he takes one of your heels in his hands and leans it against his chest as he undoes the clasp for you. He throws the heel behind him and does the same to the other leaning over you as his hair falls around your face.

“Mhmm, I've been thinking ‘bout this all day.” your lips crash into his, a hungry, feral feeling overcomes you as you wrap your legs around his waist. His lips begin their journey down your neck and across your chest, sucking small spots and leaving small bruises, as if leading breadcrumbs to find his way back home. He reaches the hem of your dress as he nips at your thighs pushing the fabrics up so it bunches at your waist. 

“Isn't it Fathers Day, shouldn't I be the one going down on you?“ He catches your eyes as you look down and shakes his head. 

“Nope. Like you said, it's Fathers Day and that means I get whatever I want baby,  and I didn't get to have dessert.” He takes the lace between his teeth and lets it snap back in place listening as you let out a small whine from beneath him. 

“Mmm so sweet” He slips the thong along your thighs and down your legs as you let them spread for his immediate return. Except it’s not immediate, he takes his time. “So good to me, aren’t you sweetheart?” He takes his time kissing his way down your thighs to your dripping core. He drapes your legs over his shoulders as he slips his tongue through your folds and around your clit. Sucking hard as he lets the slick of your arousal coat his taste buds. Kissing your cunt as if he can’t live without its breath in his lungs. He slips his tongue into you as he lets his nose stimulate your clit. You wonder if he can breathe but the thought is lost as he slips a finger into you instead coming back to focus on that bundle of nerves. Your hands wrap themselves around his curls and grip hard, earning a moan from him that vibrates against your core as he adds another finger and a gasping moan sounding from deep within you as you chase that lightning through your core. Shaking thunderous moans of His name leave you as you give in to your husband. He slows the curl of his fingers and lets you ride out your high letting himself pant against your thigh as your grip in his hair loosens. 

Laughs from Eddie send you into a fit of your own giggles and the loving look he gives you as he hovers over you letting you taste yourself off his lips. Slow and needy you reach down and grasp Eddie's length through his boxers and a groan is made from the back of his throat.

“Eddie.” The soft moan of his name is all it takes for him to give you anything you ever wanted. Some Days it’s your laugh, other days it’s the way you take care of his daughter, but right now in this moment it’s the way you're sighing at his touch. 

You sit up pushing his shoulders back until his head hits the pillows,straddling his waist and sliding up and down his cock a few times, coating him in your slick. Lining him up with your entrance and sitting slowly until his entire length is buried inside you. A deep moan from within the both of you. You lift yourself off of him leaning back resting your hands on his thighs as the angle lets him hit that sweet spot inside of you with every drop back into his lap. The way his cock slides against your walls has you throwing your head back ,eyes closed in ecstasy.

“Uh uh , Look at me , Let me see you baby.”  your chest heaves with each thrust he sends upwards into you, unable to form words. A sudden flip has you separated from Eddie right as you were on the cusp.

“I said look at me Baby, Come on. What ? dick so good you’ve gone dumb?”  He slams into you and the sounds of his skin slapping yours, as he fucks you into the mattress, echoes off the walls.” God you’re so tight. Squeezin the fuck outta me.” You whine as he lifts you so your chest is flush with his own. “Look so good underneath me ,gonna fuck you full baby.” 

“Yes , god yes Fuck Eddie, fill me up.” you moan through each thrust, right against his ear. You reach your climax gushing around Eddie a small spray reaching his abdomen and wetting the sheets beneath you. Nail marks scratching down his back send him into his own orgasm as he coats the walls within you thick, falling forward with you under him. A weight you would always welcome. Both of you lay in utter bliss for what feels like forever before he slips out of you. You hiss at the empty feeling but welcome the warm rag Eddie drags across your center. A glass of water is given to you as you lay tangled in the sheets bringing them to your chest as you gulp down every drop. A small smile on Eddie's face has you feeling like you did the first time you saw him. Unbelievably awestruck. 

“What's on your mind Honey?” He thinks for a second but gives you an answer far from what you expect. 

“I think we just made our second child.” loud and blissfully you laugh. 

“One not enough? “ His dimples practically touch each other as he purses his lips, letting his tongue glide over the bottom.

“One is plenty, but I just can't help but want a little more of you in the world.” you sit up on your knees as you bring Eddies face down to your own, sliding a hand across his cheek as your lips meet.

"I wouldn’t mind a little more of you out there either.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #dad eddie munson #wayne munson #dilf!eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson blurb #mae blurbs

[suugarbabe]

omg so ur mattheo one about drawing is so cute and got me thinking about how next time they met up by the lake what if he went to show them a drawing and it was of them!!!!!!! like he drew y/n and wanted to show them because they had a bad day or something!! i love ur writing and it just made me think of that and blush teehee

we love little secret creative and soft Mattheo 🖤 read part 1 here

You figured you’d find him out there, especially since he had gotten in a screaming match with Draco a few hours prior. You didn’t even bother checking his other ‘typical’ spots like the astronomy tower or the back of the courtyard, instead you went straight to the Black Lake. 

Mattheo was hunched over, his shoes and socks sitting next to him and his trousers rolled up to his knees so his feet could hang over the edge of the dock into the lake. He didn’t move or look up when you started walking on the dock, you assumed he was just too enthralled in whatever it was that he was drawing. 

You slipped off your shoes and socks, sinking down to your bum beside him and dipping your feet in as well. You sat in silence next to him for a moment before trying to peer over his shoulder to see what he was working on.

He turned away from you, causing a slight scoff to leave your lips, "Teo, c'mon. You always let me see your drawings." You were pouting and it was evident in your voice.

He peers over his shoulder slightly, a smirk gracing his lips, "I'm almost done, then you can look. But be gentle, don't judge too harshly okay?"

You ran your nails against his back lightly in response. A few moments later he turned towards you, sketch pad facing down towards his lap. "No laughing," Mattheo held out his fist, his pinky and thumb sticking out.

"No laughing," you hooked your pinky finger to his. You each took a turn pressing your thumbs to your lips before pressing your thumbs together, silently symbolizing and stamping the promise.

Mattheo took a deep breath, grasping his sketch pad on either side before slowly lifting it up. You couldn't contain the gasp that left your lips at the image he was able to portray on paper.

Instead of his usual lake drawings, Mattheo had found a different muse for this creation; that muse being you. It wasn't a magical drawing in the traditional sense, nothing was moving around, but it was magical to you.

It wasn't a portrait of you dead on, more so like a candid picture of you looking down and smiling. You don't know how he did it, but his shading and shadow work made it look like it was an actual photograph.

"Mattheo..." your voice was barely a whisper. Mattheo, who was holding the sketch pad directly in front of his face, peered around the side, "It's terrible isn't? I'm sorry, I really did try I swear but then - "

"It's gorgeous," you cut him off, taking the drawing in your hands, "Can I have it?" You looked up at him from the drawing with hopeful eyes, you didn't want to overstep, but you also wanted to display it for everyone to see how talented he really was.

Mattheo nodded, giddy smile now displayed on his face, "Y-yeah, of course, I mean, it's you for Merlin's sake."

You know you two were just friends, but you couldn't help yourself, leaning over and grabbing his face, kissing his cheek gently and sweetly. Mattheo's face was on fire, burning a deep shade of red, obviously not expecting the display of affection. He made a mental note to draw more things that would get that reaction out of you soon.

#mattheo riddle drabble #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #golden era #nonny bo bonny

[loving-jack-kelly]

listen i think it's like. davey falls in love immediately and davey is very aware of it and davey resigns himself to never being anything more than friends and davey takes what he can get. an arm around his shoulders. a moment of holding hands trying not to get separated in a crowd. leaning against each other on the couch. silly conversations after both of them should already have been asleep. and it's fine. it's just fine, it's not good, but it's not bad, because davey falls in love more every time they talk and davey falls in love more every time he hears jack laugh but davey also gains a better friend than he's ever had and davey gains a person he can be himself around and davey gains a group of people who don't weigh him down with more expectations that he can barely hold on his shoulders and so it's fine. it's okay. it's fine.

and jack doesn't fall in love immediately and jack isn't aware of anything and jack has no idea for months that davey has become such a solid part of his life that a future without him is unthinkable. but then he starts to notice some things and those things start to make an appearance in daydreams and drawings and sometimes in conversations where they have no business being. he starts noticing the way davey tips his whole head back when he laughs and the way he quirks his eyebrows before tearing into somebody for something mean or wrong or stupid they thought they could away with saying in front of him. he notices the careful way davey contains himself around his parents and the way that tension melts away when it's just the two of them, and he notices the undertones in davey's voice when he says "I love my family but sometimes I wish they'd let me figure things out on my own." and so jack doesn't fall in love immediately and he isn't aware of anything and he has no idea for months but once it hits.

well. once it hits it's all jack can think about because he's never been in love like this before and he has no idea what to do with himself and no idea how to handle it. and davey, who has been in love this whole time and who has accepted that things will never be more than the fine they've ended up at, refuses to read into anything. like when jack starts finding more excuses to throw an arm over his shoulder, that can't mean anything new. or when when jack refuses to let go of his hand even when they've made it outside the crowd, that can't mean anything, either. and leaning against each other on the couch, jack's head dipping down to rest on his shoulder or jack's arm draped across his waist instead of kept off to the side, those mean nothing. they can't mean anything because if they mean something they mean something and that's far more terrifying to reckon with than a lifetime of fine with an undercurrent of wishing for something else.

so that's where it stays. building and building and building, davey loving quietly and melancholic but determined to be satisfied the way things are and jack loving so hard he feels like he might explode but completely unsure of what to do with that feeling. they spend nights talking around it. "don't you want to run away?" asks davey, hoping jack will confirm again that all this hope is silly and davey should really just get on with getting over him. "there's too much good here to leave behind," jack says, hoping that davey will understand that he means no matter how badly he wants to run he wants to be with davey more. "don't you wish love worked like a fairytale?" jack asks, knowing that if it did davey would sweep him off his feet and they'd ride off into the sunset together forever. "no, happy endings would never be the ever after that everyone wanted" davey says, knowing that if love were a fairtale jack would marry his princess and leave davey the sidekick behind, forgotten.

but the thing about love like this, that becomes so big and so present and that both people are so aware of but unwilling to talk about is that it isn't always quiet and nice and settled. sometimes, it rears up and it's mean and ugly and sometimes it doesn't feel so much like love. it becomes a jealous spike and a spiteful comment when davey sees jack spending too much time flirting with and teasing somebody else. it becomes jack having too many opinions about davey's other friends, the ones he doesn't even know and hasn't bothered to try. it becomes arguing around the thing, late night conversations that turn into whispered debates where neither of them will say what they're really feeling and neither of them will listen to what the other is trying to say because things needs to stay the same. they can't change one way or another because that's terrifying and isn't better if things just stay...fine?

and i think. davey is the one who snaps first. davey who has spent his whole life compressing himself into other people's boxes, pushing down different parts of himself to fit whatever any situation needs, finally snapping from the pressure of doing it in the relationship that never felt like he needed to until everything became a fight. why should he keep pretending to be something he isn't? why should he keep pretending to be someone he's not?

and i don't think it's easy. i think it's mean and petty and easy to assume the worst, easy for davey to assume jack has know all along and has been playing with davey this whole time. easy for jack to assume that davey is saying things he doesn't mean because they're fighting and he knows it cuts too deep. they argue and get upset and spend the night and maybe a few days stewing and wondering is this the breaking point, is this where we end all of this, is there where I finally let my heart break?

but the thing is. neither of them can walk all the way away and they both know it. davey remembers the expression jack gets when he's lost in a drawing and knows he's never not been in love with him even when it feels like this. jack thinks about the way davey's hands move when he talks about something he cares about and knows that he can't walk away even though maybe it would be easier.

and if davey is the one who snaps, jack is the one who spends time figuring out exactly what to say. he's terrified and nauseous and not sure if this is what he should be doing, but when he explains himself it's careful and honest and blunt, all of the things he hasn't said since the minute he realized he was in love with davey laid out neat and gentle and real. and davey, for all he stopped pretending, can't quite believe it. not that he thinks jack is lying, exactly, but maybe he's mistaken. jack can't love davey, not the way davey loves jack, because not only would that mean all the stupid arguments and passive-aggressive moments of the last however long it's been happening have been over nothing, but that would mean jack feels this expansive, consuming, whole body love that davey has been living with for so long. that would mean jack understands and if jack understands, why has davey been okay with things being just fine for so long?

and adjusting to the truth being between them is, I think, hard. davey keeps catching himself about to say something and having to force himself to say it out loud because he's spent so long not letting himself. and jack keeps having to force himself to feel things without chasing the feeling away because he's spent so long refusing to process any of it because that would mean processing the fear. conversations are hard. change is hard. figuring out new dynamics is hard.

but when davey starts noticing that jack is taking his hand with no excuse and wrapping both arms around his waist whenever he has a chance and tipping their heads together when they sit side by side, and when he starts noticing that jack has a special smile that only ever seems to be aimed at him, and he he starts noticing that late night conversations have gone back to what they were like in the very beginning when they were about everything and nothing and more than just words, that's when he notices that things aren't fine anymore. they're good. and when jack starts noticing that davey is relaxed with him, not putting on a face, and when he starts noticing the way davey laughs at even the stupidest of his jokes without seeming insincere, and when he notices that davey has a serious, thoughtful expression that he only seems to wear when he's talking with jack, that's when he notices that this doesn't feel so confusing and scary anymore. it feels good.

#and in the background their mutual besties crutchie and race are talking every night about #please god PLEASE let them get their shit together right now we can't HANDLE this anymore #newsies #javid #jack kelly #davey jacobs

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Man’s Best Friend

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: Sam and Dean get you a furry friend, but things don’t turn out how they thought.

“Is that what I think it is?” You whispered as though speaking louder would shatter the air, and the sight in front of you with it.

“Well that depends. If you think it’s an Ewok, then no, it’s not. But if you think it’s a puppy…” Dean broke off with a grin when you squealed, cuddling the puppy to your chest.

“I can keep him? Like? For real?”

“Well we figured with the bunker, he’d have a nice home and you’d have some company,” Sam put in.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” You squealed, jumping up and hugging both of your brothers.

“Anytime, kiddo,” Dean chuckled.

“As long as you look after it,” Sam added.

…

You and Hero became inseparable from the day you met. When he was a puppy, you carried the golden retriever around with you everywhere, and as soon as he was big enough, he followed you everywhere.

He slept in your bed at night, cuddled with you on the couch, and sat at your feet in the library.

Your brothers wouldn’t have had any problem with your bond had the dog not hated them. Well, hate was a strong word, but Hero wouldn’t let them near you. Every time Sam tried to sit next to you in the library, or Dean tried to sit with you on the couch, Hero would growl, even bark, and they were forced to give up their usual spot next to you in order to appease the dog.

“Hey kid, can we talk?” Sam stepped towards you, but backed off when Hero started to growl.

“About what?” You asked, calming Hero with a gentle pat to the head.

“About him,” Dean gestures to the dog, and you frowned, your brows drawing together.

“What about him?”

“Are you joking?” Sam scoffed. “He hates us. I mean, we can’t get near you without-“ Hero barked, and Sam sighed, gesturing to him. “That.”

“He’s just a little protective,” you muttered. “Not exactly unlike you guys.”

“Yeah well, can you call the guard dog off?” Dean demanded. “Because it’s getting ridiculous.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” you admitted. “He likes being close to me, and he’s just not used to you guys.”

“Ok, well then let’s get him used to us,” Sam suggested.

“Is he really so bad?” You knelt next to Hero, smiling when he licked your face.

In response, Dean took a half step towards you, and Hero responded with a harsh bark.

“I guess that’s your answer.”

…

“Hero!” Your dog came running from Sam’s side at the sound of your voice.

“Hey, we were making progress,” Sam insisted. Over the past few days, he and Dean had been slowly getting closer to Hero, and Sam was starting to notice that you seemed alarmed at their progress.

“Yeah, he just needs food,” you muttered, not meeting Sam’s eye as you led Hero to the kitchen.

“Is it just me or has she been acting weird lately?” Dean asked as he stepped to Sam’s side.

“Oh, definitely weird,” Sam insisted.

“She doesn’t seem too happy with us getting acquainted with her dog,” Dean observed.

“I noticed. Should we talk to her about it?”

“Talk to who about what?” You stepped into the library, Hero in tow.

“Nothing,” Dean said. “Hey, how about I take Hero out to the park? Maybe he’ll like me more if we play some fetch.”

“Um…actually I think I’m gonna give him a bath,” you stepped away from Dean, and he didn’t miss the way Hero’s ears perked up, the way they did when he sensed your nervousness.

“Are you ok?” Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Sam’s lack of subtlety.

“I’m fine,” the phrase came out almost as a question. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Why don’t you want us near the dog?” Dean figured that if Sam was going to be so conspicuous, they might as well just ditch subtlety altogether.

“I never said that,” you muttered, suddenly very focused on your hands as you petted Hero.

“Didn’t have to,” Dean insisted. “So what’s up?”

At first Dean thought you weren’t going to answer, but finally you spoke, keeping your eyes averted.

“He’s mine.”

“What?”

You sighed, kneeling on the ground to be closer to your dog, “Look, this is gonna make me sound like a jerk, but it’s just…I-I was worried Hero might like you guys more than me.” You glanced up to meet Dean’s eye for a split second before returning your gaze to Hero.

“He’s your dog,” Sam insisted, “he’s not gonna-“

“You’re great with dogs, and-and Dean has that…I don’t know, that ‘I’m in charge’ attitude that dogs like.” Your arms subconsciously tightened around Hero as you spoke. “I-I thought that if you guys started playing with him more…he might like you better.”

“Hey,” Dean knelt next to you so that he could look you in the eye, and he noticed Hero leaning his body closer to you. “You raised him, ok? He’s not gonna forget that.” Dean reached out and gently scratched behind Hero’s ear. “There’s nothing I could do that would make this dog like me more than you, he’s obsessed with you, I mean look at him.”

You smiled softly as you ran your fingers through Hero’s soft fur, “Yeah, I guess.”

“And I promise, we’re never gonna try to make that happen,” Sam chimed in, joining his siblings in the floor. “But if we’re all gonna cohabitate, we need to make sure this guy at least tolerates us.”

You giggled as Hero sniffed Sam suspiciously.

“I understand.”

“Besides,” Dean added, getting to his feet, “That mutt took my place on the couch, and every once in a while he’s gonna have to share you with us.”

You giggled again, standing at the same time as Sam and looking down at Hero.

“I think maybe I can get him to do that.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean and sam #dean winchester x you #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #winchesters x reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #dean x reader #dean x sister #sam x sister!reader #spn sam winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader #winchester #winchesters x sister #winchester x reader

[atalentedwriter]

— love is a million things

paring: e-1610!miles x blackfemspidey!reader (both spider people)

a/n: i don't speak spanish i'm sorry but i used the most accurate translator i could find. if i made ANY mistakes, feel free to hmu and tell me i will certainly change em. gif from @luvjunie

sypnosis: in which the reader is in love with miles but there's really no way of winning if in his eyes, you'll always be just a friend (he loves gwen not you) (ノへ￣、)

wordcount: 1,870 words and 9,904 characters

genre: fluff, teenagers, romance, unrequited love, angst, slightly suggestive but not really

translations: "no lo parece" - "doesn't seem like it." "dime ya las pistas." - "just tell me the hints already. "dime otra pista." - "tell me another hint."

"I'm just saying, love is a million things. Sometimes it feels good, sometimes it doesn't." You say as you sit on Miles' bed, the male looking at you from his desk, turning around in his chair and shrugging you off.

"Yeah right, and have you ever experienced love to know what that feels like?" Miles asked and you paused, hesitant with your response before you bite your lower lip and nod.

"I'd like to think I have, yes." You say, looking down at your feet and then up at Miles who looked at you intently. Wow, he had really beautiful eyes.

"Oh yeah? And did it feel good or bad?" He questions as a small frown forms on your lips. "Sometimes...a lot of times..it...- it differs okay, it differs but that's besides my point-" you say and he laughs, your heart fluttering at the sound, despite knowing him since the first day he walked into Brooklyn Visions, his laugh and voice just did something to you.

"How'd that end out for you? The guy didn't like you back or what?" He says, turning around to his desk as you grab his pillow and hold it up to your stomach. How are you gonna describe him to him without him figuring it out?

"Well, let's just say, there was 3 of us in the situationship.." you start off and you notice his ears perk up. "Oh?" He asks. You roll your eyes. "Not in that way silly, it wasn't poly or anything it was more of an unrequited love situation."

He picks up his sketchbook and turns back to you. "That must suck." He said, looking up at you. "It did.." "How did you get over it." You frown. "I didn't, it's hard to stop loving someone when everything they do makes you fall back in love with them."

He laughed again and shook his head. "That's so corny." He rolled his chair over to where you sat on the bed and open his sketchbook, placing it in your lap.

"Another drawing...of Gwen..." you seethe.

"Yup, I really think I got her suit down but I'm just relying on memory here." He says as you bite your cheek. "I mean I'd like to think she still kept her hair, I mean it's a bit weird to walk around with someone's handprint in your head- gosh I still get ptsd from that da-"

"Why do you bother liking her?" You blurt out.

uh-oh. word vomit.

"What?" Miles asks, taken aback as he looks at you.

"I mean, she's in a completely different universe Miles, it's never gonna happen." You say, your words coming out a bit ruder than you had wanted it to.

He frowns and looks at you. "Well damn (y/n), sorry. I can't control what I feel." Miles said as he picks up his notebook from your lap and rolls away back to his desk, his eyebrows furrowed and a frown on his face.

"oh my gosh.." You mutter out, running your hand over your face before you look up at him. "Miles I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean it like?" Miles asks, not bothering to look at you.

"I just- don't want to see you get hurt. You're my best friend okay and...I care a lot about your feelings and...-"

"No lo parece." He grumbled under his breath, and thanks to your enhanced senses, you picked it up.

"Excuse me?" You say, as a hothead, you were already getting defensive but you sighed and unballed your fists. That's why you liked Miles, why you needed him around, he calmed you down without you both even knowing it. "It's just....sigh..interdimensional love never works out, I've seen it in the movies-"

"Pfft-"

The small muffled laughter catches your attention. "What?" You question as you look up to see Miles staring at you, hand over his mouth. "Are you laughing at me? I'm pouring my heart out to you man."

"Sorry, I just can't take you seriously everytime you talk about movies like that one time we got stuck in that elevator-" he starts.

"I thought we were gonna run out of air!" You counter, whining as he starts laughing at you. And just like that, you were back to your regular state, neither of you guys can be mad at each other for long.

You stayed silent for a few seconds before you look up at him to find the boy already staring at you and it sends butterflies down your stomach. "Hey Miles..?"

"Hm?" He hums, rolling his chair to get closer to you until he was sitting right next to the edge of the bed where you currently were.

"Um, what would you do if you loved someone- in this dimension-"

"Ouch.." the boy playfully said and you rolled your eyes.

"But they loved someone else.." you finish.

"First of all love is a very strong word." Miles starts off and narrows his eyes at you, causing you to straighten your back at his gaze.

"Well in this context it's accurate, like I'd do crazy things for this man...like a lot-" you start, and Miles rolls his eyes.

"I don't need to know what you'd do twin." Miles jokes as you smile before he crosses his arms. "Does the guy know you like him?"

You look at Miles and shake your head. "No."

"Have you given him hints you like him?" Miles raises an eyebrow and you bite your lip.

"What kind of hints?"

"Touching."

"Define that, cause we're touching right now." You motion to how his arm that was on his knee was barely grazing your leg. He looked down and then looked up before breaking out into a grin.

"If that's your definition of touching then you're super touch starved." Miles laughed as you sigh.

"Dime ya las pistas." You say, agitated.

"Okay okay, so touching, just subtle touches...like...this." Miles looks down and moves his hand and places it on your lap, using his thumb to work on rubbing small circles on your inner thigh, rubbing his hand slowly but subtly on your lap before looking up and smiling at you. He was flashing that oh-so-beautiful smile at you.

The fact that you were wearing shorts made it easier to feel his warm skin on yours. The sparks that this simple movement sent coursing through you made you wonder if he was using his zap on you.

"See, you're blushing." He says, cooing at you jokingly.

"Am not!" You counter as you snap out of your trance, looking at him. Had it not been for the melanin on your face right now, you would've been red like a tomato. Lord, this man knew just how to touch and rub your skin. (pause, what are you thinking about? 🤨) Your cheeks were hot.

"Or like this." He moved his hand from your lap and you almost whined at the absence of his hand on you but then he moved his hand to your arm, caressing it softly.

Your eyes followed his hands, almost in a trance-like state before you look back up at the boy.

"Now that's just one tactic.." he said as he started talking but you couldn't hear a damn word.

His beautiful face so close to your skin and the fact that he still hadn't stopped caressing your arm, ugh. You hated this, he was so lovable, it was hard to just let go of these feelings especially since this man never gave you an ick! His dorky nature fit him and was cute on him and his teenage awkwardness was even more adorable. And he's so attractive when he's spiderman- hold up, what was he saying again?

"...kiss me." He spoke out, ending his sentence.

"What?!" You say, shocked, where you daydreaming or something?

"What?" He asked as he raised an eyebrow. "Were you even listening to what I was saying?"

"Somethin' kissin' or somethin' i don't know.." You mutter out as he laughs.

"You're unbelievable. I meant you have to be bold with your actions but not too bold and you have word vomits a lot so don't just like tell him to kiss you or something like that." He said as it dawned on you.

"Oh, that made much more sense."

He bit his lip and smiled causing your eyes to flicker down to his lips that looked just too kissable. Damn. You looked back up to find him already looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face, just now realizing how close he was.

"What..?" You say, your voice coming out breathless. He looked down, shaking his head before looking up at you with a smile, your eyes meeting.

"...You're like...the weirdest girl I've ever met." He spoke out which caused you to put your hands on his chest and push him back.

"Whatever!" You say, snapping out of the trance he had pulled you into once again.

He chuckled and moved back but only momentarily before leaning back in again, confusing you. He put both arms at the side of you, resting it on the bed as he leaned in closer.

You thought he was going to kiss you, it looked like it and so you tensed up unknowingly to which the boy raised an eyebrow, cracking another one of his contagious smiles.

"Relax, I'm just getting my markers." He moves up his right hand to show the markers he already had in his grip, he was just leaning in for them, you felt stupid. "I'm not gonna hit you or anything." He says, leaning back into his chair as you sighed.

"Dime otra pista." You say. You can't belive Miles was teaching you how to rizz him up.

"Well another one would be like teasing or like going out of your way to talk to them and eye contact is a big one." Miles concluded, resting his leg horizontally on his other one.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed with Miles looking at you and you just looking at your lap.

"Miles...?" You asked as he hummed again in response. "Do you ever plan on leaving Brooklyn? And have you ever thought about what would happen if you do? Like with spiderman and stuff?" You ask as he takes a moment to consider your question.

"Well.." He pauses. "I'm not sure, I do know I want to study outside Brooklyn for university that's for sure, I mean there's people out there that can-"

"Teach me stuff I want to know." You finish his sentence for him and he pauses and looks at you.

"Freaky." He says with a grin as you giggle. "But it'll all fall into place, I'm sure, I don't want to worry about the future too much yknow?"

"Yeah.." you mutter and look at him again.

"What about you?" He asks, tilting his head to the side.

"I'll go wherever you go Miles.." You reply subconsciously as you smile at him.

"Okay you've gotta get better life goals for yourself." Miles jokes as you two fall into a heap of giggles, leaving you with a new-found goal already.

You were going to confess to this man.

#miles x reader #miles x you #miles x y/n #spiderman astv #astv fanfic #love #angst #across the spider verse spoilers #spiderverse #spiderman atsv #miles morales fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miles g morales #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales x fem!reader #miles morales fluff #miles molares #miles morales #black reader

[velvet-paradox]

Naughty

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x Female reader Length: Medium Summary: You like your man a little mean and he obliges. Warnings: NSFW 18 + ONLY, reader discretion advised, established relationship, name calling (dumb, dummy, toy, slut), strong language, porn with very little plot, a lot of brain rot going on here friends, light slapping (but not painful), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, dirty talking, detailed smut. P.S. I may or may not have a lovi obsession just sayin'. OK BYE Tagging: @synnersaint

She likes it when he's mean.

When he comes home hot and still full of spit and vinegar. Says it turns her on to get a little kaleidoscope glimpse in to what his enemies get the full taste of. Of course he's never truly mean to her, how could he? He loves his little dummy back home. With her glittering eyes and open arms, waiting patiently for him mission after mission. Her hugs are the best. Welcoming him home, where he belongs, even if he does reek of gun residue, sweat and gore.

Blood doesn't bother her, whether it be her own or Keegan's, she's not shy with the sticky stuff. She's cleaned his wounds with bare hands and when she's finished she's got more dirt and grime under her nails then he did. She's even stitched his forehead once or twice, much to his disapproval even though when he chances a look in the mirror, he can barely see the scars.

She's good.

Too good.

Too good for him, she doesn't deserve the junk and turmoil he brings to her doorstep. Wounds that won't heal, scars that won't fade. But he tries. He tries to be a good man when he's not running point, when he's not given instructions to just barrel through and get the job at hand, done. Keegan wants to be a good man; good enough to deserve you.

He looks at your photo when he's alone in his tent, on the road, in the helo. When the world is just too fucking loud, he's careful to take it out of his front left breast pocket (safe keeping of course), looking at your beautiful handwriting first.

FROM ONE DUMMY TO ANOTHER XOXO

He'll smile at it, beneath his ghost balaclava or bare and streaked when he's all alone, before he'll turn it over. Still after these tedious months, he gets that tingle in the pit of his stomach, the ends of his toes, the balls of his feet, the seam where God himself split his sac.

You don't have to be naked to look this fucking good. In fact, you're fully clothed, only your soft hands are available, giving two peace signs on the back of his motorcycle. Two of his most precious guilty pleasures.

"Come on, come on." Your whine cuts through the forgotten music in the background, the faint smell of a homecooked meal wafts up the stairs and renders the man completely useless.

Keegan is transfixed at the leash in his hand, the black leather is soft and worn in his palm, the chain clinks quietly when he moves his wrist and finally looks down. Stunned once more by your beauty. On your knees in a lacy one piece, slinky at best, leaving just a hint of peek-a-boo skin through the fine material. The leash is of course attached to the collar around your neck, next thing he sees is your wiggling, hips swaying as if you had a tail, sticking out your tongue in a lewd and obscene manner.

"You said we were gonna' play," you pouted as Keegan smiled down at your desperation. Distance did make the heart grow fonder and stitched your desires back together. "Don't you wanna' play with me?"

"Of course I do baby," Keegan pet your pretty face, humming when you nuzzled against his palm. "I'm just trying to figure out which hole I'd rather stretch out tonight."

The gasp and look in your eyes hit him straight in the groin, knowing damn he'd never sunk into that tight ring of muscle as of yet. You'd need preparation, time and training of course and more than just spit as lube.

Keegan shuffled and wound the chain around his thick fist, drawing you up on your knees. "You wanna' play? Let's play."

….

Your noises are music to his ears, long forgotten are the spraying bullets and shouts of commands, what's left, the only sounds that matter are of desire. Not too long ago were you taunting him from over your shoulder. He forced you to stand, about face, hands on the wall as he kicked your legs open. Biting his tongue at the way you arched your back and made your ass jiggle, pushing back against him as he tried to remain as still as possible. Which wasn't easy.

You never took it easy it on Keegan, he was a man of war. As much as you'd tease him, make that pretty noise when you wanted something badly enough to vocalize it, he'd lose his composure. Keeping the balaclava on just a little longer until he couldn't take it anymore.

He tossed you to the bed after that stunt, crawling over you, the clips of his fresh gear snagging on the lace as he covered your mouth with one hand, pinned your hip down with the other and stared into your fluttering eyes.

"You sound so good baby, so damn needy for me. You can hardly stand it, huh? Look at you, already moaning like a slut for me, just for me right? No one else."

You shook your head frantically, mumbling behind his palm until he lifted it away from your lips. "What's that, pet?"

"No one. No one else, I promise. Just you," you licked his hand sensually, keeping your eyes on his face as you laid back down. "I only want you to slut me out."

Keegan chuckled lowly with a nod of approval, pinching your side. "Good girl. Now just keep letting me know how good you feel, yeah? 'm gonna' keep going until you're shaking, making a fucking mess, is that understood?"

Your enthusiastic face made him hard.

Keegan ripped off his mask and got down on his knees, dipping the bed with his weight. He delighted in your squeals and giggles, fitting your legs over his shoulders, licking his lips when he realized the only the thing separating his mouth from your pussy was a pair of flat snap buttons.

Now listen, Keegan is no slouch when it comes to eating pussy. He knows what he's doing. If there were a (pun intended) eating contest, there would be a trophy case decorated with a few honorable medals as well.

The first time he tasted you, you almost broken his nose, bucking up hard into his face. You apologized repeatedly but Keegan just laughed it off, saying that would be the best excuse for his twice broken nose already. He licked his name against your clit. Letter by letter, shapes and swirls as he claimed your cunt.

K was a pointed tongue slashed against the hooded nub, the first E was gentle and flat tongued, the other E was followed by a slow and deliberate suck, G was a sloppy swirl and A and N were hummed to a tune of his own making.

Your hands moving to brush back his hair felt so damn good on his scalp, panting and wiggling for him. It had been two weeks too long. "Please baby that's it, that's it." Your voice was already fucked.

"I know you fucking love it," Keegan grunted against your sex, taking a moment to grace your slick folds with the bridge of his nose, chuckling lowly when you keened. "You just fucking love it when I devour you whole, don't you? Yes you do, tastes so fucking good."

When Keegan got lost in the sauce there was no telling just what he'd say, what string of commands or obscenities he'd loop together in some sensual tapestry that left you breathless.

"Yeah? I taste good?"

Keegan lifted his head, remnants of black grease paint over his pretty eyes looked up at you from between your legs, making them tremble in his grip. "You taste divine, princess."

With that, Keegan brought you to the edge, licking and sucking, toying with your cunt when he tagged in his fingers to join in the fun, those thick fingers breached your hole and stretched you out over and over until you begged. Sobbed for him to let you cum, that you couldn't hold it back any longer and oh how did Keegan love it when you begged!

"Come on sweetie, you can do better than that. Turns me on when you do it…. so fucking beg."

He licked your arousal from his fingers, making an absolute show of it too. "Good job, baby. You did such a good job for me." Keegan groaned as you panted to catch your breath, laid out and limber. He could throw you over his shoulders if he wanted, flip you over with ease, your limp body just going through the motions. Keegan could (and has) had you in every position possible and some that required a bit of technical work, a little fine tuning, angling his hips just so, holding your neck or lacing your fingers together.

Keegan is a man of many talents, in and out of the bedroom as he shifts and takes off his belt-- one handed. Your glassy eyes shine in the dim light from the room, predatory as you drink him in while he undresses.

Your hands are on his waist, burning hot before gives a gentle pat to the outside of your thigh, rolling you over on to your stomach. Sometimes he can't help himself and he gets this primal surge deep in his groin to obliterate you, break you, fuck you raw and stupid until you're a sloppy little mess of limbs and cum.

The smacks to your ass are deliberate and you raise up only to be pushed back down, Keegan grunted at you to keep still, to spread your legs, keep that one bent, just like that.

Keegan edges himself, rock hard in his hand as you dips just the crown of it around the base you, still wet. That bit of pre-cum on the tip is enough to wiggle between your cheeks with ease.

You shudder when he does that thing you like.

His spit slips between you, another glob of it makes it a sound leaving his mouth and hitting his shaft.

"Jesus Keegan, fuck me already. I need it."

"Oh I've got just what you need you dumb little pet," he grabs the leash, tugging on the chain as you pull on the sheets. "Whose my dumb little girl, huh? Is it you, baby? Are you my dummy girl?"

"Fuck. Yes."

Keegan yanks on it, jerking your head back. "Say it. I wanna' hear you say it."

Fuck; he's throbbing.

"I'm your dumb little girl. Just so fucking-- God that feels so good... I'm so dumb, so dumb for your cock, baby. Please."

"Good job." Keegan cooed and then thrusted in deep. "Let's slut you out then, yeah?"

….

God you're pretty. Clawing at the sheets as he fucks you through another orgasm. The clanking, your moans and body bending, arching into his touch like a needy cat. Pet me pet me pet me.

"Baby please," you paw at him, sentences die on your tongue, failing to make it out of the column of your throat. "I'm gonna' cum again." Now on your back with your knees pretty much to your chest, rocking on his cock with his momentum, the leash pulled skin tight.

"Awww of course you are. I can feel you squeezing me, my dumb little girl is getting her pretty little hole fucked out. You're so fucking hot," Keegan moaned out, he dragged a hand down his face, salt and sweat, paint staining his hands before he smeared it over your chest. He's marked you in a number of ways but to see you marked like this, with his mystery always got him going.

"Just like that-- ha!" you drawled, an almost pained 'oh my God' seeped into the air behind clenched teeth. Keegan mimicked you instantly, keeping his hand pressed between your tits. "I'm gonna' cum again, don't stop!"

Keegan's chuckle held desire and humor, fitting one of your legs over his shoulder, smearing his face against your calf. He was tempted to take a bite, too. Those intrusive thoughts always got the better of him.

"You think I could ever stop fucking this pussy, huh? Fuck yeah, squeeze around me again baby. You're such a good girl for me," Keegan was rewarded by his own praise when you leaned up to watch him split you open, spit on your pussy and fuck you harder.

What can I say? The man has stamina.

"Oh my God! Keep going keep going, fuck."

Your legs started to shake the minute Keegan's thumb met your swollen bundle of nerves, throbbing around his cock, crying out for more more more, that you couldn't take it. You came with a whine, sobbing with your release that flooded around the base of his cock. Keegan growled and gave it, chomping down the sensitive meat of your leg.

"Good job, baby. You look so fucking cute when you cum, when you're all brain dead," Keegan hissed through his teeth and pinned you down, heavy hands on your knees as he spread you open. "Open up for me, let me finish inside you. Gonna' fuckin' fill you up, two weeks is bullshit. Stay awake baby," he gently slapped your face in quick succession, jerking your chin to make you look at him and only him. "Don't get all dizzy on me now dummy, you've got some more dick to take."

She's really going to get it now...

#i'm in a brain fog about this man lately #he's neat #and sexy #that's not my fault and he's fun to write so... #might be in my keegan era #kruger is looking mighty fine too #might fuck around and find out #keegan p. russ #keegan p russ #keegan p. russ x reader #keegan p. russ x female reader #keegan p. russ imagine #keegan p. russ fanfic #keegan p. russ fanfiction #keegan p russ imagine #keegan p russ x female reader #keegan p russ fanfic #keegan p russ fanfiction #cod imagine #cod fanfic #cod fanfiction

[iamjustaholeforyousir]

What makes you think you're good enough

part 2 of Arrogant Son of a Bitch

summary: after some news, you mother has something to say to you, which gets you thinking of things you shouldn't.

warning: bad family situation, mention of parental abuse, slight angst? (i mean i kinda cried while writing this)

word count: 1,263

minors DNI

part1 part2 part3 part4 part5 part6 part7 part8 part9

you looked ahead and saw something you had thought you would never see. 

Your father is smiling at you. You turn to face King Styles, whose expression is identical to your father's. You were so perplexed since, often, when you return from your “prince hike", your father has a stern expression as if anticipating some sort of outcome. However, today, he appeared pleasant, content, and pleased. Harry was clenching his jaw and staring at his father as you turned to look at him. So you believed it was just you who did not get what was going on.

Harry’s eyes seem to lock onto yours, and his face changes to one of total contempt. 

“Y/n,” King Styles says, you turn your head around to see the older men looking at you, “we are pleased to welcome you to the family.” 

Then it hit you. He said yes. How? When? Why? He just told you he was in love with another princess, he was with you the whole time, and he just looked at you like you were the ugliest, most horrible thing he has ever seen, then….why? Was this a test of some kind? This was a test. This is a test. THIS IS A TEST! 

You wanted to embrace the King! You wanted to embrace the Prince! Everyone could agree that he was quite handsome, and now that you were getting married, you would eventually learn more about him.  However, at this moment, you wanted to frantically announce your impending departure to everyone. 

You gave the biggest smile you could give and said “The pleasure is all mine.” and bowed down. 

“We will finalize the date soon, I hope you have a safe journey back home.” your father said, as he went in to hug the king. 

You turned around to look at your soon to be husband, who was not looking at his feet. You couldn't see his face, so you figured it was out of shyness that he couldn't hold your gaze. 

You stepped outside with your father to deliver the two gentlemen to their carriage. 

You bowed to Prince Harry as the elder men embraced once more. You expected him to take your hand and kiss it, but he utterly disregarded you and crossed the aisle to board the carriage instead.

You were even more confused, you had no idea as to why he would do such a thing. You had seen your sisters getting proposals, even your past proposals, the princes would always depart by curtly kissing the princess’s hand. 

You stayed in your place, as you saw the carriage go out of sight. You couldn't rid your mind of the incident that had taken place just before. 

A maid arrived to your room later that evening to invite you to dinner. To avoid upsetting your father, you hurry down.  You slow down as you draw close to the dining hall. Voices could be heard coming from within. You pause and pay attention. You were always curious since you were the youngest.

 “She will need to learn feminine things.” your father’s voice says 

“y/f/n, she is already very feminine, i have taught her well, are you doubting my capabilities?” says your mother’s voice

“Well, it took her this long to find a suitor, I can see how appealing she is,” he says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “But I am talking about the duties of a good wife.” 

You wanted to cry because your own father did not think you were appealing enough to attract a suitor. But you restrain yourself from showing any emotion and move gently inside, and as you do the exchange between your parents ends awkwardly. 

You take your designated place at the table, as you are served your food. You mother looks at you and smiles “i am so happy for you y/n, my darling daughter,” you father scoffs at this and earns a glaring look from your mother, she turns to face you once more and continues “prince Harry will take great care of you, don't you worry, he is a lovely boy.” she seems very happy when she says that, you look at her with a puzzled look, how does she even know? Because according to you, he has just been rude this entire evening, the only nice thing he has done is actually agree to marry, by secretly telling his father. 

Your mother seems to understand your confusion and says “oh! Don't you remember!? As children you both used to always meet, and be stuck together! His mother and I are great friends!”  

You have no recollection of this, absolutely none. That is when your father speaks up “ they were months old when they last met y/m/n! How is she to remember? And you were never stuck to each other.” he snorts as he says this. 

You dreaded meal time, not because of the food, you absolutely loved food, but you and to endure your parents and their constant jabbing at each other. They were never happy, always had to contradict one another for everything. As a child you remember how dreadful carriage rides used to be, with both your parents always bickering about something or the other. And as your sisters left one by one, you felt sad, and lonely, but most of all, you felt scared. Previously, your father has raised his hand on you, in order to “discipline” you when you had done something he didn't like, but you knew it was mostly because he was upset due to something your mother had said. But as you grew up, the torture came to a stop. You were a lady now, ready for marriage, and no prince would want a bruised wife. 

You quickly finished your dinner, and excused yourself from the table. You made a beeline straight to your chambers, and started writing a letter to your sisters. 

 You were at your last letter, when you heard a faint knock, you reach for the door to open them, and when you did, you see your mother standing there. 

“Y/n, i need to talk to you.” she says in a kind, yet serious tone. You give way for her to enter your room.

She sits on your bed and gestures for you to do the same. 

“y/n, you are now old enough to have this conversation, i had this with all your sisters before they got married.” she started, i figured this was the ‘duties of a good wife’ conversation, so listened intently. 

“Once you get married, it is your duty to make your husband happy, and give him whatever it is that he needs, you need to tend to him first, no matter what, and once the wedding ceremony is over, you both would want to consummate the marriage,” oh, Oh! This is what this conversation is about. “And when you do, you need to know that it might not always be pleasurable for you, but as long as your husband seems to be content with it, you know that you are being a good wife. And not just in this aspect Y/n, but in every, you always need to put his needs before yours.” 

You really did not want to have this conversation, but as it progressed, your mind wandered off, to him. You imagined how he would look, how his touch would be, what his voice would sound like so close to you. How he would feel.

A/N : if you have a family situation, similar to the one described in this part, please know that it's not okay, and that i am here for you if you ever want to talk, i know i can't do much, but i can try to make you feel better. If it doers get worse please reach out to someone who can help you better, please seek help if you are victim to any kind of abuse.

stay safe.❤️❤️

@strwbrrydaydreams @remuslupinwifee @stilesissaved @sunshinemoonsposts @mypolicemanharryyy @inlikea-coolway

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #smut #harry styles smut #enemies to lovers #forced marriage #arranged marriage #grumpy x sunshine #harry x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #soft girl #light angst #harry x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #royal au #royalty #perioddramacentral #1d #one direction #hazza #harry styles fic #harry x reader

[percervall]

Just wanted to say I love your Daniel fic, and Lando’s part is perfect in it too. I can’t help but wonder if the roles were reversed….

oh anon, thank you so much! That means a lot to me 🧡 I absolutely adored writing this

Apparently my brain agreed with you, because I wrote this in an evening. Hope I did Lando justice in this

this love (is yours and mine)

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader Words: 1241 Warnings: none

“You should tell her,” Daniel said, startling him from his thoughts as the Australian driver fell in step beside him. 

“Tell her what?” Lando replied, an uncomfortable weight settling in his chest. He had a feeling where this conversation was headed.

“That you love her,” came Daniel’s answer, “because you do, right?” 

“I-.. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lando muttered in response, feeling his cheeks heat up at the lie. Daniel grinned, seeing straight through him as he dodged the question.

“Yeah, thought so. Your face is an open book, mate. No poker face to speak of. How either of you haven’t figured out your expressions are identical is beyond me.”

That made Lando trip over his own feet, nearly sending him face first into the asphalt of the paddock. 

“Wh-what?” 

Daniel chuckled as he grabbed his arm to steady him. 

“Mate, she looks at you the same way. All smiles and heart-eyes. It’s cute. Oh, to be young and in love,” he mused, the grin still in place as he now slung an arm around Lando’s shoulders. 

“Sh-she does?” Lando couldn’t believe his ears. How had he not seen it? Had he been too busy trying not to look at her, not to make a fool of himself,  whenever they spent time together? They’d been friends for the longest time and Lando had just sort of accepted that it would probably always stay that way, but this had pulled the rug from under him. 

“100% mate. Like I said, you should tell her.” 

Lando mulled it over, nervously chewing on the draw string of his hoodie. If he wasn’t so worried it would do irreparable damage to their friendship, he would. But why ruin the only stable thing in his life?

“I don’t know, Danny. She’s my best mate, why-... I can’t lose that, not now.” 

“Listen, it’s six of one and half a dozen of the other,” Daniel said, holding the door to the McLaren motorhome open. 

“Meaning?” Lando asked, confusion now added to the mix of emotions already swirling through his head. Daniel chuckled again.

“Meaning, either you do or you don’t,” he explained with a shrug, “but are you truly happy just playing it safe? Where has that ever gotten anyone?” 

Lando knew he didn’t require an answer to that question. In their line of work it would always be nowhere. And if it wasn’t that it’d be P20. Daniel left him to stew on that as he climbed the stairs to the debriefing room. Lando sighed, hanging his head as he followed his teammate. 

+

The meeting had been long and his brain felt completely frazzled by the end of it. None of the statistics retained and Lando was pretty sure he had blindly agreed to a strategy he had no way of recalling for tomorrow’s race. A part of him wondered whether it would’ve made a difference if he did, and then he chastised himself for even thinking that way. Scrubbing a hand across his face, he blindly followed the rest of the team downstairs, exhaustion taking hold of him. Lando heard her before he saw her, her laughter ringing out like a windchime in the gentle breeze. Carlos was leaning on the back of the couch as he talked to her, probably telling her yet another story about their shared time as teammates. A jealousy reared its head with a ferocity that left him reeling. Carlos was very happy with his long-term girlfriend, there was no need for him to feel this strongly about another man being friendly with her. 

“Hey mate,” Carlos greeted him. She turned back around to face him and Lando was struck by how her expression changed when she laid eyes on him. Her smile widened, and her eyes softened as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Even dressed in one of Daniel’s enchante sweaters, a pair of faded jeans and beat up trainers, she still looked better than any of the celebrities milling about come Sunday. 

“Hey,” she said, tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. 

“H-hey,” Lando managed to stutter, ready to blame the exhaustion if anyone were to comment on it. 

“Carlos invited us to dinner, but if you’d rather order in…?” she trailed off. It squeezed his heart, her knowing him like the back of her hand to offer him an out.

“Uh, yeah, no, dinner- dinner’s.. great,” he fumbled, internally groaning at his own awkwardness. 

“You okay?” Carlos asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern, “Is Zak working you too hard?” he added in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“I’m-.. Oh for fuck’s sake,” Lando muttered. Was he really going to do this? Lando knew that Daniel was right; whether he did or didn’t, it didn’t matter. He could either keep this buried for the rest of eternity and suffer the consequences or he could tell her and see where it would land him. What’s the worst that could happen? His brain helpfully supplied him with a long list, but he swallowed down the panic that rose in his throat at the sheer thought. 

“I’m in love. With you,” he said, looking at his best friend since they’d been 16, “and I completely ge-..” Whatever he had wanted to say, died on his lips as she pretty much launched herself at him, pressing her lips against his. He instinctively wrapped an arm around her waist, as his eyes fluttered closed. The world around them faded to the background as he kissed her back. 

When they broke the kiss, Lando felt breathless, heart pounding in his chest as he looked at her.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” she confessed, cheeks flushed.

“Oh, probably about as long as he has,” Daniel said from his spot next to Carlos. 

“W-what?” she stammered, looking at the Australian with confusion written all over her face. Daniel and Carlos shared a look.

“Kids these days,” Daniel commented, earning him a chuckle from the Spaniard.

“He’s been in love with you for-.. Well, I think since always, no?” Carlos said, looking at Daniel for confirmation.

“Pretty sure since always, yes,” Daniel agreed with a nod. 

“I’m such a muppet,” she groaned, burying her face in Lando’s chest. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him as he pulled back to look at her.

“Guess that makes two of us. Luckily we’ll have forever to make up for it,” he murmured, brushing her hair back behind her ear. She smiled back up at him, lifting up on her tiptoes to press another kiss to his lips. 

“Oh my God, that was the cheesiest shit ever. Okay, come on lovebirds,” Daniel said with a roll of his eyes as he moved to the exit, but Lando could hear the smile in his voice. 

“I’ll pay for dinner to celebrate Lando finally finding the cojones to tell her,” Carlos added.

“But no sushi, right?” Lando was quick to ask, taking her hand in his as they followed the two older drivers. Carlos just laughed, holding the door open for them.

“Right?” he repeated, eyes flitting between Carlos and Daniel. 

“Don’t worry mate, I know a great restaurant. You’ll like it,” Carlos said, clasping him on the shoulder. Lando eyed him cautiously.

“Is it too late to back out of this and order in?” he whispered, turning to look at her, causing her to laugh. 

Welp, my first Lando fic officially happened. Honestly it was only a matter of time. The devil works hard, but the Lando girlies work harder

Wrote this as part of a kisses challenge I’m taking part in this year. Feel free to send in a request or suggestions!

#ask #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris oneshot #lando norris drabble #f1 fanfic #lando norris fluff #welp ivy it happened. was only a matter of time

[mistymisfit]

So long, Marianne I

Summary: Reader is a spy working undercover in Gotham when she meets Jason Todd, who despite her better judgement she forms a very close friendship with. This story follows their escape from Arkham asylum, their fall out and the times they run into each other as they get older.

Relationship: AK!Jason x Meta!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence (I'm serious, tho- in canon it's also pretty violent), angst, hurt/no comfort (for now), this series is just my excuse to write angst lol.

A/N: *CIPA means Congenital insensitivity to pain and anhydrosis aka people who are unable to feel pain. see the end for more notes :)

Word Count: 4,2K

Read on AO3

Part 2- Masterlist

He repeats his question one more time before kicking your stomach again, "Who are you?". He's been asking the same thing for the past... month? Time gets blurry when you're kidnapped. Fuck, undercover work sucked no matter who you did it for. Whether it was your actual boss or the big bad bat himself, they should all make it up for making you endure this--make it up by dying, you thought. God, whose stupid idea was it again? Letting yourself be kidnapped by the Joker so they could track his lair and see if he had any connections to your current case, ah yes... your boss. Not even Batman would ask you to do that, at least the man had some moral code he hung onto, maybe a little too tight. You've earned an early retirement after this assignment, almost two years living in Gotham, out of everywhere. But what neither you or your boss expected was that he'd know your "secret identity" was fake, that he would torture and kill the agents who worked with you and pretended to be your family--or that they'd sell you out. You whisper, they were not even words just an unintelligible sound. He lowers down, putting his ear close to your mouth to be able to listen better and asks you to repeat yourself. You bite him, as hard as you can and draw blood, lots of it which you spit out with a smirk.

"Fuck you" You taunt and he just laughs, holding his wounded ear. The laughing is excessive, it reverberates around the entire room and you brace for the next impact. But it never comes.

"I think it's time you met a friend we have in common" His smile makes dread set in on you, who? By his standards it could be anyone, from someone you actually knew to someone you've never met but was there to pick up on his dirty work as he went to do other things. He pushes you with his feet until you lay on your stomach and begins to cover your hands, you count the layers. First some kind of cloth, then plastic wrap, then aluminum foil, then a bag to hold it all together. Right, you let everyone believe your healing abilities could only work with your hands.

He drags you up, grabbing one of your arms as he walked you to a different room. The side of his head still bled, and you watched the blood fall down and how it got no reaction from him. He must be used to pain or there must be something wrong with his pain nerves. Maybe not enough to be CIPA* because you have seen him wince and experience pain before. Your feet fail you, you can barely take steps due to how weak you are. Every bite of food you've been forced to take ended up being spat or thrown up moments later. You can feel how chapped your lips are, how tangled your hair is, how deep the bags under your eyes must be, the way your arms hurt from being tied behind your back for too long, how much you must look like shit. He opens a door to a mostly dark room, you can only make out a figure sitting on a chair under the singular light in the entire room. He--yeah, it's a guy definitely, you think--he's got his head low, his posture isn't close to being okay and upon further inspection you realize he's tied to the chair. He's pushing to walk in his direction, and you recognize that hair, even though less dirty, and that side profile way less hurt. You knew that person, you knew him maybe a little too much for your mission.

Jason Todd was once your friend, possibly the only friend your age you've ever had. You met him when he was Robin, being instructed that working with Batman may end up being beneficial at the end of the line you were told not to antagonize him. Even helped him every once in a while to get at least his respect. The first time you ever talked to Jason-- or rather Robin at the time, was when he sprained an ankle one night. You were there, trying to gain info on an illegal arms shipment that was arriving that night "We just have to know who bought it" they told you. You weren't there to stop them, you barely were allowed to actually stop bad things from happening and sometimes you envied that in them. They were their own person, they could have lives, make their own decisions, have agency of their own. Instead you, poor you, you had nothing but your work, no family you knew of, no goals of your own, nowhere to go if you wanted to quit. You healed him, at least that you could do. Maybe word would get out of a new vigilante with "unspecified healing abilities", they didn't have to know you actually manipulated time and just turned time back to a moment they weren't hurt. And from that moment on, unknown to you, he had a crush on you.

He started following you around. It's not stalking he'd justify it, he was just investigating. Making sure whose side you were on because after all you were on the harbor the day he stopped some local gangs from getting their hands on bigger guns. But he found no more than your cover story, neither he or Batman could leave a secret identity be secret. He believed your cover story, no one had any reason to question it. You were just Marianne, a simple girl. A simple girl with superpowers who healed his ankle. Later, when you became closer, sitting next to each other on the rooftop of a building looking down on the city lights, and the traffic that still moved late at night, you explained to him that your powers came from a freak accident in a lab when you were a kid. That much was true, most of the things you told him were true. At the time you felt he was someone who understood you, and he felt the same. And that's how the both of you started developing feelings for each other. It was more than just a crush and the need to have the other closer kept getting stronger. You kept reminding yourself that you couldn't, that you were being so unfair to him, keeping him in the dark about who you really were, if he knew the truth he would never have trusted you. So when you were told he died, how Batman was so sure of it, you regretted everything. You were so decided on telling him the night he disappeared, why didn't you do it before? You've been living with that ever since, the regret, the guilt. And it only got worse when you found out he was dead, knowing he died not knowing your real name, he died believing your lies.

"No," you try to stop, not to get closer to his corpse. "what kind of trick is this?"

"Ah, come on- he's still your friend, isn't he?" You struggle, not letting him move you and putting your entire body weight into it, every strain of energy you had in trying to stop it. How sick is he? He kept his body all this time. Tears fell on your face just thinking about it. How much he suffered, how violent his last moments were, how he didn't get justice or a proper burial.

"You can't even respect the dead," You cry "I'm gonna rip your heart out of your chest with my bare hands, do you hear me? I'll make your death so violent even Batman will feel sick"

Your threats started falling out of your mouth faster than the logic in your brain could work, you shouldn't be saying those things. You couldn't be making empty promises like that, you knew you couldn't kill him. You would never be allowed to do it. He laughed, and laughed and pushed you to fall on your back right at the feet of your dead friend. You looked up, just a peak to see his face one last time but he didn't look decomposed, in fact he even had fresh blood on his face. You also saw his chest moving up and down very slowly, was he sleeping?

"Ah, how sweet of you" The man awes, pretending to be flustered by her death threats "but I didn't kill him"

He steps closer and slaps Jason's face, yelling "Wakey, wakey! You have a visit!"

You watch in shock at how he his eyes open so fast, how his head shoot up and the fear in his expression starts to settle in. He wore an orange jumpsuit, as if he was just an inmate more, his cheeks were stained with tears, there was dry blood on one of his nostrils and his lower lip had a cut. Not to mention the "J" scar on his face too.

"What did you do to him?" You ask, sitting up from where you were.

"We were just having fun together, right Jason?" He grabs his head from behind him to make him shake it, saying yes. "and you and I can have just as much fun, soon as you start telling the truth"

"Ma-Marianne?" His voice is rough and low, it was the first time you heard him scared.

"Yes," You crawl closer to him, and look up at him before resting your forehead in one of his legs to hide your face as you started to weep inconsolably "I'm so sorry, they said you were dead, that-"

There is a deadly silence filling the room , where you can only hear your ugly sobs. Jason doesn't respond and you didn't expect him to, but at least they let you cry in peace. Taking in the fact that he'd been alive all this time, thinking about what he's been put through as you mourned like an idiot when you should've kept looking for him. How you abandoned him, how everyone abandoned him. And that made you feel even worse than your initial thought of Joker not letting him rest after he died, because in that case there was nothing you could've done but now... You felt his leg move lightly and you looked up, maybe you were making him uncomfortable and this was his way of saying it. He mouthed a little "I love you" when he knew your captor wouldn't see it. Just then as you gave him a small nod and mouthed "I love you too" you saw he was crying too. Soon his tears fell on you, and he moved his shoulder and turned his head to wipe them off as he sniffed.

"Aww, isn't it romantic, Mr J?" Harley's voice sounds from behind you but you couldn't bring yourself to look away from him. You were getting out there tonight, fuck your cover, fuck your job, he was the only thing that mattered right now.

"Young love," He sighs, dreamy, as if he knew what he was talking about. Like he knew what love felt like at all in any way, shape or form. "We'll have a little menage a trois, It'll be fun dont cha' think?"

And soon enough you felt Harley's arms holding you down as he put a rag over your face and proceeded to throw water. Jason screamed, asking them to stop, that you had nothing to do with them. You coughed when they stopped, at least maybe your face was clean and free of the blood you bit from him earlier. You could handle getting waterboarded, you've been trained to endure all sorts of torture methods. What you couldn't handle was hearing and seeing him like that.

"Now, your little girlfriend hasn't been entirely honest with you"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I've already told you who I am" You insist, this time actually desperate.

"Ah- and who are these two then? Liars?" He shows him, not you, a picture of your fake parents dead. Then he shows it to you, of course Jason thought they were your parents, you gave him no reason to believe otherwise. "Cause you see, I thought you were just another annoying kid, getting in the way of my game with the bat- but you're much more than, you're too good"

Silence, you were trained better than this. They put the cloth on your face again, trying once more to get the truth out of you.

"Hey, maybe he knows" He switches up quickly, and takes a piece of broken wood to hold it over Jason "Come on tell me, who's her? And why is your old man protecting her?"

"Her name's Marianne, and he's protecting her because she's my friend"

"Ah-" He imitates a buzzer noise, like he was in some game show "Wrong answer" He hit him.

"Stop it!" You yell, as he repeatedly hit him. You struggle trying to break free from the woman holding you. Until you managed to hit her with my head somehow. You feel the pain in your scalp from her teeth hitting you too.

"This is useless mista' J," Harley spoke, doubt filled her voice. Maybe you were telling the truth, maybe you were just who you said you were and he was too lost to see it. "the girl's been saying the same for months, and her parents weren't even that convincing when they said they weren't her folks"

You watch them leave, him being visibly angry at her for questioning him. Only for him to come back moments later, almost bolting to Jason saying "I have a show to run outside, could you two behave and wait for me here?" Like you had much of a choice, then he said "And hold this for me, boy" before stabbing him. Of course he couldn't stop by without leaving him with an open wound of any sort. You rushed to him before the door was even closed, you removed the knife from the wound with your mouth, your hands still tied behind your back and wrapped up in multiple different layers in a failed attempt to stop you from using your power. Your eyes lit up as you healed him, his pained grunts eventually coming to a stop.

"I bet I look like shit right now" You joke, resting your cheek on his thigh once more. T rying to hide the fact that, despite the situation you were in, you were still a bit embarrassed that he saw you like that.

"You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my life" He confesses, not a single strain of joke or sarcasm in his statement and it makes you blush before you move to the back of his chair to untie him.

"You only say that because you want me to free you" You say before grabbing the rope with your teeth, taking longer to undo the knots than it would with your hands on your back and not being able to see what you were doing. If only they didn't think your powers worked from your hands.

"His ear, you did it?" He asked, getting a muffled sound of confirmation from you. "That's my girl"

The scoff in which he said it made you blush again, your cheeks were heating up tonight. He knew if anyone was ever getting him out it would be you, not Batman. His mentor probably started to look for a replacement as soon as he went off the grid. He knew you would never betray him, that's the only thing the Joker couldn't torture or manipulate out of him, the one thing he could hold on to. His kidnapper was wrong, he was never Batman's or his. He's always been yours, probably since you healed his ankle. The ropes around his arms loosen until he's free again, his muscles were sore but soon the adrenaline would kick in and rid him from all pain. He frees his legs in a hurry as you stand up in front of him, he stands up too again. The stretch felt good, moving on his own felt good, and seeing you again felt even better. You turned around, it was his turn to get rid of the ropes now. He grabbed the knife that you couldn't use and cut through your bindings. Still he couldn't help but think about the worried look on your face, what are you thinking about? How to get out? Him? Whatever it was, he took a moment and the second you turned to face him again he wrapped you in a hug. Feeling your warm body against him for the time in so long, you return the affection hugging him just as tightly. He feels relieved, finally a gentle hand lays on him, a hand that he knew could never hurt him.

"Jay, I-" You hesitate, hiding your face in his chest while trying to hide and get the courage to tell him at the same time "I have to tell you something"

"Can it wait until we get out?" You shake your head no, he had to know so you could break out from there. I mean, it was kinda hard to break out of Arkham without help.

"No, uhm, we need to call for help" You start "There's a chip on me, I need you to cut me and take it out"

"What? Help from who?"

"My agency" You admit in a whisper, and just as fast as you got him back you feel how you're loosing him a second time. He lets go of you, and you can feel the distance he's putting between you two more than any torture Joker put you through.

"Where is it?" He asks, his tone cold and detached. You try to hide how hurt you were, you should've expected it he had every reason to be mad.

"Here" You lift your shirt up and point to the place where the tracker was, on your lower stomach right above your hips, on your left side.

He nods, and you lay down on the floor so he can get to work. He touches you, only to get a feel of where it was and you try not to think that this will probably be the last time you feel him so close as you put your arm over your mouth to stop any noise that may come out of you. He cuts your skin, and you bite your arm and hope it's quick. With the end of the knife he swiftly pulls it out in between all the blood coming out of you. You tell him to step on it so it gets destroyed and sends the message, as you heal yourself. He wasn't even watching you, his eyes were fixed on the door processing yet another betrayal.

"Jay, I wanted to tell you-" You try to explain but he cut you off shooting a serious glare at you.

"I don't care," He was cold, his voice severe and it even scared you "get me the fuck out of here and we'll talk"

You nodded on the verge of tears, then deciding that holding on to the hope than when you two were somewhere safer he'd be open to have a conversation was your safer bet to maintain some sanity. Maybe then he'd listen to your apologies. At this point you weren't hoping for absolution but a truce would suffice. Why did you have to go and fuck it up? Why did you have to go and fall for him? You knew who you were, a spy trained for most of the life you remembered who worked undercover in Gotham, you knew you were not supposed to have any ties or emotional connections. You cursed at whoever gave you feelings and made you human, instead of whoever turned you into a machine.

"We should get moving, get to the extraction point"

He just nodded, it was short and formal, so unlike what you were used from him. He followed behind you as you carefully opened the door. There were no guards outside, so you moved. Soon an alarm started to blare through the rotten and worn down asylum wing, that's why the hallway was so empty. Two inmates run past both of you, pushing you to a wall in the process. You reach to grab Jason's wrist to make sure he's behind you but stop halfway through. Probably being touched by you was the last thing he wanted. So you just walk, decidedly pushing through this situation you were in. Armed with nothing but your fists you take out a man twice your size, you easily dodge his punches and swiftly move around him to hit him in key points that he leaves open. Jason watches, and realizes as you jump to the man's shoulders and snap his neck that you had been holding back all this time. He understands you have been capable of using lethal force but chose not to, though he doesn't know the reason for that. Was it because of Batman? Was it because you were ordered not to? He pushes down the thought, as he should be more focused on the guy he was fighting instead of you. You keep moving, going up to were a helicopter would be waiting for you. What you didn't expect was the Joker's backup plan, Death-stroke, pointing a gun right at your head. Shit, you didn't even tell him about your powers yet, he was going to be even more pissed if you didn't find another way out of this soon.

"Out of my way kid" He tells you "I'm only getting paid for not letting him leave alive, but I don't mind wasting a bullet"

"Oh, fuck off" you sigh tired, you just wanted to get out of there. You were exhausted, you wanted a shower and to sleep on a real bed and if it wasn't too much to ask maybe see the light of the sun. So you froze him, time stopped for the man in front of you. "move, it won't last long"

Jason wants to ask, he's itching to know. How did you do it? How did healing people translate into what you just did? He had so many questions for you, about you. Every time a new question came into his head he felt even more offended, he thought he knew you so well and turns out you'd made him out to be an idiot. He feels like an idiot and for that he's even angrier at you for lying, for keeping things from him when he had been so vulnerable to you. That you knew everything about him yet he knew barely anything about you and even what he knew he doubted it was even real at all. But out sheer stubbornness he wasn't going to ask, he'd rather take the curiosity to his grave.

The loud noise of a helicopter becomes more clear as you head up, and then you recognize the all black uniform and standard weapon of your agency. Confusion painted your face, why would they send backup instead of it just being an extraction team. Usually they didn't have a care in the word if you got out in time or not, even going as far as leaving you behind once. They weren't usually this helpful, or willing to use resources on a simple rescue mission. The help didn't last long since you heard the gun shot coming from where you came from. Shit, it wore off you better leave quickly. You tell him to run, to keep up the pace and he does, promising himself this was the last time he would trust you. It was all fine and well, you could see the escape route clearly you almost made it when you heard it. Jason held the bleeding wound from the bullet, stumbling until you helped him. You stole a gun from a passing agent, they wouldn't notice since it was just their back-up, and shot at the mercenary. Your aim was just a little off, since you were also holding a person with your other arm but you managed to hit his arm. The bullet just grazed him, your friend didn't have the same luck. You shot again, just to create some cover so you could move. It worked, you made it to the helicopter before he passed out from the blood loss. Sadly you couldn't heal him since the bullet was still there, so in tears as you took off you managed to stop his bleeding until you got help.

Of course your supervisor wasn't happy about you escaping earlier than expected or that you bought him along. But after some promises and insisting, they agreed not to let him die and took him to the closest headquarters. You knew the conditions they put on you were harsh but you thought nothing was worth more than his life, so you agreed. Even if it mean never seeing him again, why did it matter anyways? It's not like he wanted much to do with you after today.

A/N: Like I said on the notes on ao3, I'm sensitive and this is my first time posting what I write in a LONG time so have patience with me lol.

#bro I need to work on a better summary #w: jason #Ak!jason todd x reader #Jason todd x reader #reader insert #Ak!Jason todd x reader angst #jason todd angst #I'll add more tags later

[ghostofskywalker]

Hello! can I request something with Tech and a tooka?

here it is!! i hope you enjoy :)

words: 692

clone troopers masterlist

If you had asked yourself last week the question “how long would it take for Tech to notice that you had adopted another tooka if you didn’t tell him?” you probably would have said an hour, maybe even less. But here you were, two days later and counting, and he hadn’t apparently figured it out yet. 

To his credit, you did somehow manage to adopt a tooka that was the spitting image of the one you already had, except for one tiny splotch of white on one of his feet, so to anyone who wasn’t paying attention, they probably would have seemed like the same animal.

Also to Tech’s credit, the two tookas had apparently made an pact to never be in the same room of your home at the same time. They often cuddled together when it was just you in the house, but now that Tech was visiting they always seemed to be apart from one another. 

You were holding a cup of caf as you settled on the couch next to him, having already placed a mug for him on the end table next to where he working. The newest member of your tooka family (named Pilfer, for his ability to covertly sneak food from your plate without you even realizing it), hopped up on your lap and laid down across it, purring softly as he settled into his new comfortable sleeping spot. 

“I think your tooka has finally gotten used to me,” Tech said. At first when he started spending more time at your house between missions, Midnight (the older of the two) kept her distance whenever he would enter a room. You had seen her get more comfortable with Tech over the time that you’d been together, but you had a feeling that his data was now slightly skewed because he didn’t realize you had a new resident in your home. 

Instead of bursting his bubble right away you decided to play along for a little while. “That’s good,” you said. 

“Yes, she has been seeking me out more often for petting lately. She has attempted to sneak bites of my food sometimes though, which seems out of character for her.” 

That only confirmed your suspicions, that it was in fact your new tooka that had taken a shine to Tech, and eventually you were going to have to tell him, but you didn’t really want to do it right now. “That’s good. I’m glad Midnight is finally getting used to you.” 

At the sound of her name, your other tooka padded into the room, and she meowed quietly to draw your attention. Tech looked up from what he was doing on his datapad, his eyes widening as he tried to process the sight. 

He looked at Midnight, who blinked her large eyes up at him. Then he looked over at you, who had a sleeping Pilfer on your lap, and his mouth dropped open. “Have you always had two tookas?” 

You could have said yes, letting believe that he hadn’t noticed for the entire time he had known you, but you weren’t that mean. “No, but I’ve had Pilfer here for a few months now. He’s more friendly around people than Midnight is.”

Tech was silent for a few moments. “I suppose it makes sense why ‘Midnight’ only responded to her name about one third of time,” he said. “You are right, he is much more sociable, and he certainly seems to live up to his name.” 

The tooka in your lap shifted slightly but didn’t wake from his slumber, even as Tech reached over and pet him. “Next time you get a new tooka,” he said. “Might I suggest choosing one that doesn’t look exactly like the two you already have?” 

“Now why would I do that? Especially when I can trick people into thinking I only have one pet instead of multiple.” 

Tech just shook his head, but you could see the playful smile on his face. Maybe later, before he had to leave for his next mission, you could take him to the shelter and see about adding another member to your family.

#🍷 blurbs #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech x you #tech x reader #tbb tech x gender neutral reader #tech x you #star wars x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch x reader