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writefightandflightclub · 2 months

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Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Six (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running?

Genre: a LOT of angst, (some) smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list).

Author’s note: Hope you like this one. Weirdly it's one of my fave chapters. (I love Frankie, you'll see.) Slightly shorter chapter this time. The angst continues (I’m so sorry... but also I'm really I'm not sorry at all, yk? :P)! As always, I would be super, super grateful for any comments / reblogs / asks you may wish to send my way, and I'm so touched that anyone would even consider reading this far along in the story! ILY :-*

Word count: 3.7k for this part.

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

Santiago watches you go. Feels the violence of you being snatched from his side like a wound.

He feels lost for a moment. Paralysed as he watches you retreating, barging by Frankie and Will and Benny in the doorway; most of the boys - barring Tom- having mobilised downstairs. They are soldiers, after all, and so they can sense a conflict. They look like it too. They look primed: to assess, attack, defend. Defend you. Always was that way. That’s all Santiago ever wanted too.

“Hey. Hey, hey. Come on. What is all this?”. Frankie attempts to soothe as you hasten your approach across the sand, towards the refuge of that doorway. As though Santiago is an earthquake and you must take shelter from him there. “Come on,” he calls out to the two of you, indiscriminately. And then, to Santiago only. “For fuck’s sake, man. You care about each other.”

Santiago can’t move. He desperately wants his feet to move after you but he can’t seem to get them to cooperate. Can’t seem to get any sound of protest to birth from his throat. Can’t seem to bring himself to stop you from walking away. Just like last time. Maybe he thinks he knows what’s better for you, and so he dare not try.

Instead, he watches as Frankie futilely tries to smooth things -to slow you down - but on your approach he must see little chance of reconciliation in the folds and caving of your face, for he lets you barge right by him. You slip clean by Will on the porch too, and just past Will’s broad shoulders, Santiago can see his brother spinning on his heel. Launching himself to follow you back upstairs. To offer you the comfort you deserve after the wounds you didn’t. The wounds he has created by telling you the one thing he’d always feared himself.

That there was no hope for the two of you.

God. He had simply tried to love you, but how could he reach out to you softly when his hands are so lethal? How could he hold you, when all he ever did was hurt?

He huffs a sharp breath out of his nose, cursing at himself under his breath. His heart is hammering in his chest. There is a ringing in his ears. Guilt. Fear. Adrenaline. Anger. Guilt most of all. Santiago watches dissociatively as Frankie beelines across the sands for him, not to comfort, he thinks, but to blame. It’s all he deserves, isn’t it? Maybe, but he feels exposed out here, alone on the sand, so he too mobilises towards the house. His head down and his pace purposeful, face locked in a grimace, as though perhaps he too could somehow slip by unnoticed, despite its guarded perimeter. Even though the whole squad is primed for damage control. Even though he’s flagged as the danger. The wrecking ball, the shell, the strike, threatening to bring this house to its knees.

He’s done worse.

He had wanted better for you.

“I’ve had enough of this bullshit, man,” he spits to Frankie - without looking at his buddy as he rounds on him, attempting to get in his way and slow him down. Santiago doesn’t like to feel caged in. To feel small. Vulnerable. He rasps the palm of his hand down over his mouth and chin. “Fuck.”

Santiago reaches the porch, still ignoring Frankie, and moves to pass Will too. But, his old captain is having none of that. He pushes Santiago back firmly - heel of hand to shoulder. “Why don’t you leave it?” he warns, the words frothing between his teeth. Santiago still does not look up, his face a snarl, trying once more to shoulder barge and bypass his way into the house. “No, no way.” Will stands taller, knocking him back, practically looming over Santiago now.

Santiago looks at him this time, in accusation. He squares off to him, tension writhing along his jaw, Will bearing down on him with all the weight of his bulk and presence and his track record.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Frankie placates from behind him, and Santiago feels the man’s hands settle on his tense, packed shoulders. He quickly shrugs them off. “Let’s take a walk. Let’s take a walk.”

“You fucking kidding me?” Santiago bites, his breath raging through his nose.

“Take a fucking walk, Garcia.” Will orders coolly. The shorter man’s jaw writhes, tension rippling through his body, but he doesn’t plan on going toe to toe with Captain Miller. He knows that wouldn’t end well.

Frankie tries again, planting his hands once more on Santiago’s shoulders and twisting him away from the porch. Santiago still hasn’t looked at the man. He can only feel him there. This quiet, calming presence, reflecting the grotesqueness of own anger back at him. Forcing him to face himself in the mirror. “Let’s take a walk. Come on, hermano. Take a walk.”

Santiago rips his gaze and head away from Will and with an unbecoming grunt begins pacing it down the long strip of beach, adrenalin still piping into his veins. His body shaking, tremoring, and fists clenched by his sides. “Can you believe her? I’m just so… fucking-” He growls.

And still, Frankie is behind him, in his PJs and sliders and just shoving him forward, palms planted on his shoulder blades. “Walk, man. Just fucking walk. Don’t talk. Move your legs.” Santiago tries it one more time, tries to twist around but Frankie just shoves him onward again, keeping pace behind him. He sticks with him, despite the huffed breaths and snipes and everything else. He walks him like a fucking dog until the adrenalin has burnt off. Until Santiago feels only jitters through his weak legs. Until he feels a pit open up inside and swallow him. Until he can carry himself no further away from you. Until he realises that no matter how far he walks he cannot run from himself.

“You cooled off now, huh?” Frankie manages to soothe, even with the bitter lime-wedge bite in his tone. “Okay. Okay.”

Santiago crashes.

“Fuck, Frankie.”It is as though he turns to sand, knees buckling and dropping to a crouch, burying his face into his gently tremoring hands. “Shit.” He scoops up a handful of sand, tossing a tiny grit storm into the air. “Fuuuuucckk.” He crests, and he sags back on to his ass with a sorry thud into the sand, his legs spread and knees drawn up. He rests his elbows on top of them, his head sagging down in between his legs and his fingers lacing behind his neck. He looks like he’s protecting himself from debris. From the aftermath.

To his side, Santiago hears Frankie sigh deeply, and he plonks himself on the floor beside his buddy. Santiago squirms performatively to dismiss the circles Frankie’s broad hand smooth into his shoulder, but he is eminently glad when his friend doesn’t quit. He needs this. Someone who won’t give up on him.

Frankie’s robust voice is a comfort too, yet he can still hear some judgement in it. Knows it is coming. Still, generously, Frankie allows Santiago a moment. A breathing cycle before he must face another onslaught. “Hey. Hey, come on.” He pats his back more firmly, and Santiago just sits, tears piping freely down his cheeks.

There is a groan around a bitten lip, and Santiago finally looks. Finally looks to see Frankie softly shake his head from side to side. Something is coming. Santiago can guess what. It’s somehow always his fault, isn’t it, and so he should expect the onslaught? Frankie’s voice is deceptively soft, but he always strikes in stealth. That’s where he does his best work. He applies another couple of slow, forceful pats to Santiago’s back, before scrunching his hand into his t-shirt and jostling him, perhaps as though he could shake some sense into him once and for all. “I don’t get it, man,” Frankie intones. “Isn’t she everything you ever wanted?”

Santiago closes his eyes, the final smattering of tears beading in his long lashes. “I don’t know why I can’t…” His shoulders tug up as he sucks in a steadying breath and promptly releases it again, digging his closed fists into the sand before him. “I don’t. I just…” His eyebrows leap up in distress as he wrestles with the complexity. “I want to. I want to, but she’s better off without me. She doesn’t deserve all of my bullshit.”

“I don’t think she’s once tolerated any bullshit, hermano, least of all yours.”

Santiago sees what his buddy is trying to do, but Santiago shakes his head forlornly from side to side. “I wouldn’t be good for her. Wouldn’t be good enough…”

Frankie clicks his tongue. “She wants you. Don’t patronise her by thinking you know better.”

“No. It’s too late. I fucked it. I… Shit.”

Frankie’s voice drops an octave. “I’ve been patient. But I’m tiring of your fucking excuses, man.” He does; he sounds tired. Everyone, always so tired of him. “Look ahead with me for a minute, alright?” Frankie gestures with a sweep of his arm through the air, as though Santiago could fix on a vision of the future before him. Instead, all he sees is a black, rolling sea, fringed with frayed white lace. A round disk of mellow light shining down through the night. “What do you see in your life? Christ - what’s your endgame? Getting shot in some fucking ditch?” Frankie swats Santiago’s arm with the back of his hand when he receives no reply, the man instead looking wistfully out over the water, his eyes as soft as the moon. “I asked you a question. So answer me. What’s your endgame? If you can’t even say it aloud, I can’t fucking help you.”

“Her,” Santiago breathes, without looking away from the water. “Her. You know it is.” He scratches nervously over the stubble on his cheek. “I’m so in love, man. So gone for her I can’t fucking think straight.”

“Right,” Frankie nods firmly, looking at Santiago unblinkingly from beneath his lashes. “So what the fuck are you going to do about it?”

“I can’t just leave everything, Cat. Walk away and-”

“-Can’t you?” Frankie smacks the back of his hand definitively against his own open palm. “I did. Tom. Will. She did.”

Santiago actually scoffs then, as if something is funny. “Yeah. Yeah, Cat,” he concedes, pushing himself up from his hunched position in the sand, voice oddly taut. “You did.” Frankie stands with him, his chin raising as he defends from whatever low blow Santiago has brewing, a healthy dose of cynicism dripping from him already. “You did, and fucking look at you. You’re all a goddamn mess. A hot steaming pile of shit.” His eyes tighten with resolve, a solemnity shrouding his sharp features. “I can’t do that to her.”

“Fuck you, man,” Frankie revs. “I’m good. I have a little girl on the way.”

“Oh, please. Give me a break.” Santiago slices his hand through the air. “Tom’s eyes are fucking hollow. Selling fucking condos?” Frankie’s eyes flash with a rage and a sadness that seem to cancel each other out at first, and so he can all but listen as his buddy winds up his tirade. “Will - fucking Captain Miller - this burly bastard walking on eggshells because he’s afraid of flipping that switch and blacking out again. He choked a man out, no flag on his shoulder. Lost the love of his life. I thought those two were it, man. You’re scraping by on lines and don’t think we haven’t noticed.” Frankie’s head ducks down then, and he lets out an undone noise, something between a protest and a whimper. “Fuck, even Benny. The fucker gets beat to shit for fun. Do we sound fucking healthy to you, Cat? Is that how good it is getting out?”

Frankie’s breaths are turbulent now. Santiago can see the familiar look of restraint on the man. Nostrils flaring, brow drawing down. The dark, formidable edge behind Frankie’s quiet exterior barely kept in check. He meets his gaze and he almost looks battle-drunk. On the offensive and ready to do whatever it takes to get off the backfoot. But, he reins it in. Swallows it down. Until all he delivers is a march forward, pacing Santiago backward, his finger jabbed into his chest and his words snarling directly against his cheek. “Fuck you, pendejo. You think you’re any better than us?”

Santiago lets him have it. He’s not sure he has any fight left anyway. Isn’t sure he’d mind anymore if he got punched down into the dirt.

“No. No, I don’t. That’s exactly my point.” Frankie searches his face, the knife in his keen eyes blunting to a wet sheen as Santiago lays it out in a small, fractured voice. “If you can’t do it, how in the hell can I make a go of it? I’m not the best of you. I’m so fucked up. I’ve got all this… fucking baggage. My mom. The nightmares. Lorea. The blood on my hands. I can’t be ‘it’ for her. I can’t. Because she deserves better. Deserves the fucking world, man.”

Frankie clamps his hands down on Santiago’s shoulders, drawing back to look him squarely in the eyes. “Guess what? You’ll be fucked up in or out, trust me. But you may as well be fucked up with fewer bullets grazing your vitals daily, no?”

Santiago shakes his head as if getting “out” is simply impossible. “I’m doing something, man,” he mutters, as if he can’t muster the strength to believe his own line anymore. As if all his old mantras are dead. Washed away in the sand. “I’m trying to do something down there.”

“This mother’s homeland bullshit again?” Frankie really does sound eminently tired. Trust Santiago to hit on an argument within an argument, right? He can always twist just about everything. “Wake up call, Pope. You can’t fix it. You don’t even care if you fix it. You just want to keep fucking running.”

Santiago tears away from Frankie’s grip, pacing in a small circle. “Fuck you.”

Frankie raises his palms in the air. As if he really is about to give up. What does he do if every one of his best friends gives up on him, Santiago thinks? “Fine. Whatever. That’s your shit, not mine. But look at it this way. You tell me you can’t walk away from that life. Look me in the eye and tell me this. You okay walking away from her?”

“She walked away,” Santiago spits, even though he scarce believes it any longer. Yes, you might have walked away. But he was the one who ran. “She was the one who-”

“-I don’t care!” Frankie yells, quickly losing patience, waving his palms of surrender around. “I’m tired of this. Shit - I do not care about these little technicalities. Yeah. Okay. She left, right? She moved on, Santiago. Moved along the road. Life is moving on. Don’t blame her because you’re standing still, cabrón.”

Santi shifts his weight from foot to foot, swipes his palm back and forth over his mouth. “Fuck you, man, standing still my ass.”

“Oh, what?” Frankie retaliates. “You can come at me but I can’t come at you?” Santiago’s expression is stark, all straight lines and angles and shadowed planes. “You stayed and for what? To spite her? To prove yourself right? Jesus, Pope. Lorea has you chasing your tail. You’re going round in circles. You fuck your problems away but you wake up and, hey, guess what? They’re still there. Still a big steaming stack of turds in the corner.” Santiago curses under his breath, spitting insults and deflections, but Frankie is undeterred. “And the worst thing is, you could fucking have it! You could have everything you want! What the rest of us wouldn’t give for that, pendejo.”

“Right, yeah. Thanks for that assessment. I’m just a fucking chump, is that it?”

“Hey, look. It’s you. I’m just saying what I see.” Frankie’s mouth curls into a tentative smile, yet the blow dealt by Santiago’s stony expression manages to dull it.

“Asshole.”

“Whatever. I’m done helping. You don’t want her? Fine. You don’t have to change a thing. Can drive her away all on your own, I’m sure.”

A hard swallow bobs down Santiago’s corded neck, and he chews on some words before offering them up. “And if I do? Want her?”

“If you do? Then, Christ. Stop moaning about it like a little bitch and do something about it.” Santiago’s face sours all over again, and Frankie holds his hands up once more in surrender. “I’ve tried the softly, softly approach, man. We’ve all got our own shit going on. It’s past time for a fucking intervention with you.” Santiago writhes his jaw, but there is no further protest from him. Eventually, he concedes with the barest of nods. Frankie braces his arm on his shoulder, his expression growing wistful. “I just want to see you happy, man. I gotta know that some of us can still be happy. Of all of us? She fucking deserves it. And, look. You deserve it too, alright?”

Tears ball in Santiago’s eyes. It’s been a long time since he felt like he deserved to be happy. A very long time. He concedes, with the barest of nods. “It’s… I’m….” He chucks out a breath, frustrated at his lack of ability to get his words out, his mouth and brows pinching together.

“What? Spit it out.” Frankie gives his shoulder an encouraging jostle.

Santiago looks him in the eyes, about to level with him. Perhaps upon seeing the vulnerability there, the pilot’s eyes soften. “I’m fucking… scared, man.”

Frankie’s eyes tighten with a wistful mirth, and his hand slips up to curl around the back of Santiago’s neck in a brotherly embrace, emotion flooding the cracks in his grit-flecked voice, making it warm and robust. “Santiago. Idiota. The way she looks at you, man? You don’t have a damn thing to be scared about.”

Tears glisten in Santiago’s eyes once more, and Frankie draws him into a tight, enclosing hug. Santiago lets himself collapse into it, wrapping his arms around Frankie’s broad, slender torso. After a few moments, and an extra squeeze for good measure, Frankie draws back, still cupping the nape of his buddy’s neck.

“Cool down and come back to the house okay?” Frankie encourages, eyes needling Santiago for an answer until he nods. “Look. You okay?” He nods again, more adamantly this time as Frankie soothes him, dipping his chin down and raising his brows to hammer home the seriousness of his inquiry. “Yeah? Not gonna do anything stupid? Santiago?”

“Yes. Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

Frankie drops his arms, evidently feeling somewhat reassured. Yet, with Santiago, the fact that he promises not to do anything stupid bears repeating. “What are you gonna do?”

“I’ll take a walk,” Santiago nods, his face drawn down into stern lines. “I’ll come back to the house.” He regards his friend, his eyes still painted with concern.

Santiago frowns. Scratches the back of his neck. “Listen. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Frankie grins, an element of deflection in it. “I’ll be okay.” He bumps Santiago in the shoulder with his fist. “Fuck you though.”

“Yeah. Sounds about right. Listen, we gotta talk soon, huh?”

The smile drops from Frankie’s face as he contemplates being the one placed under scrutiny. “Yep.”

Santiago shuffles from foot to foot. “Will you…”

“Yeah,” Frankie reassures. “I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

“Love you, man,” Santiago calls, as Frankie turns on his heel.

He calls back over his shoulder, walking a few backward paces. He comes to a halt a few metres from his friend. “Yeah, I know. Love you too.”

“And… I’m sorry.” He had no right to drag Frankie’s shit into this.

“Yeah. I know that too,” Frankie revs. “Not as sorry as you’re gonna be if you ever say shit like that to me again. I’m too old for this bullshit, man.” Still, Frankie shrugs, indicating no hard feelings. “Anything else you want to say for yourself?” He juts his chin up. Watches Santiago struggle with the words, but allows him the time to pattern them out.

“She said she wants to fucking marry me. Can you believe that? But… I’m not that guy, Cat. I’m not the picket fence guy. I…” A frown layers over his already stern face, and he gazes intently at a spot in the sand, mid-way between them. “I don’t want to be the guy who… ruins her life.”

Frankie inhales deeply, letting the whole gust of breath go in one, puffing it out through his pouted mouth. He looks far too tired for this. “Fuck, I don’t know man. You’ve got so many hang-ups I could use you as a coat rack. But that doesn’t mean you’re not loved. And that’s enough, no? Picket fence doesn’t suit you? I don’t fucking know.” Frankie shrugs, palms tipped up towards the sky. “Shit. Have whatever kinda perimeter you want. Just -for Christ’s sake - make sure you put her on the right side of it. Don’t keep shutting her out.”

“That’s some deep shit, Cat.”

“Not just a pretty face, cariño.”

Santi grins.

“Now, are you done? I gotta fucking sleep.”

Santiago nods, and watches as Frankie begins to turn away again. But, there must be something in Santiago’s face which causes him to think better of it. Instead, he surges towards the man, cupping the back of his head in his hand and planting a kiss to the middle of his forehead. The frown lingering there disappears. “I love you, asshole.”

There are several things which bear repeating when it comes to Santiago.

“I know.” Santi stares intently at his feet.

And, finally satisfied, apparently, Frankie seems willing to leave his buddy to it - granting him a moment to contemplate things alone. To contemplate you. To contemplate his words of advice.

Santiago feels grateful for Frankie. Even feels bolstered for a moment, until he realises that what he’d assured him might not be true. That even a love that feels too abundant to bear? That it is not always enough. After all, you’d told him as much, hadn’t you?

His love wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

Frankie walks away.

Santiago will have to decide if he’s going to do the same.

Or maybe he’ll run.

After all. Isn’t that all he’s good for?

#santiago pope garcia x reader #oscar isaac #ride or die series #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia

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xzhdjsj · 5 months

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Asirel x Vampire Reader

biting asirel. thats it. thats the entire reason i wanted to write this

I've gotta say I'm not the biggest fan of being called a pet but something about Asirel just pulls me in yk??? I think he's very interesting and I loveee the darker themes in his story!

This is gonna be my last post for a whileee:( I feel like absolute shit I hateee being sick and I have a bunch of final exams to study for BUT I'LL BE BACK SOON!!!

It was normal for you to leave Asirel’s home without permission, undoubtedly out causing chaos and leaving a trail of blood behind for him to clean. But never has it been this. No hunter has ever been so daring, no, utterly stupid to attack you.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Your body drags through a second floor window of his mansion, regaining your balance momentarily only for legs to give out under you. Your bruised body crashes to the floor, taking with you one of Asirel’s lavish vases. The noise definitely invited attention but you couldn’t care any less.

Time moved slower around you and blurry vision made it harder and harder to interpret your surroundings. You hiss out in pain and attempt to get up but to no avail you stay on laying on the polished floor, defeated as the air gets knocked out of your lungs. Bodies appear from every corner of the hall. There are many faces around you, keeping a safe distance, probably prepared to run if need be. None of them dared to touch you or take even half a step closer.

Perhaps it was an order given to them? Perhaps it was fear? What could a single worn vampire do anyways? Out of desperation, probably a lot. But even in desperation, their blood wasn’t what you craved.

It was hard to focus with limited strength and hard to breathe laying face first onto the floor. The sound of veins and arteries pumping sweet sweet blood around you is almost impossible to ignore. In a hazy state, your already intense senses are heightened and the sound becomes even more intoxicating, filling your ears and your mind.

You almost gave up, almost used the sliver of strength to grab someone and bleed them dry but the thought voided your mind when new set of footsteps could be heard approaching. A familiar scent invaded your senses.

Where was he? Close no doubt, BUT WHERE?

Ahhh there

“What is going on her-“ his voice halts.

You desperately push your body up on your palms to look up at him. You muster the strength to sit up but it feels like you might fall again at any moment.

“Master” you mutter in an entirely unintended drowsy and tired voice. You had meant to tease him but depleted energy made it hard for you to be a brat.

“Back to work. All of you!” his stern voice rings through the halls.

Footsteps scatter around you and Azirel kneels in front of you. Your lips curl into a weary smile as you gaze up at him but his face remains serious, his eyebrows furrowed.

He pulls you closer, one hand supporting your back, the other supporting your legs as he lifts you into his arms like a princess. Air fills your lungs completely but you’re barely conscious to register any of it. You close your eyes, face buried into shoulder, dwelling in his familiar scent, the rhythm of his heart, the peaceful darkness behind your eyelids. It reminds you of that day. The day after you met Asirel. It was the first time in months you had woken up in a comfortable bed. His silken voice calling out your name like a hymn sung by an angel.

“name”

“name” a soothing hand brushes the hair from your face.

“Come on wake up” your eyes slowly open. You feel the mattress beneath you, but this isn’t your bed or room.

“Mmm where am I?” you manage to whisper, your hand reaching for his collar desperate to taste him.

“Shhh, you’re home”

“But this isn’t my-”

“No, it’s mine”

He shushes you again. Effortlessly, he maneuvers your body onto his lap, left hand snugly around your waist, right hand holding the back of your head as he aligns your mouth to his neck.

God he smells good.

“Go on, drink”

Fangs pierce his skin causing a low gasp to leave his lips. Absent-mindedly, your hand moves to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair softly.

When the warm blood hits your tongue, you almost lose control. Your eyes glow brighter and your breathing increases. You swallow harder and harder, your grip on his hair tightening.

“Hey hey” he grips onto your hair. You gasp and let go of him, blood dripping down the sides of your lips. Red eyes move from the wound on his neck to his eyes. He’s already looking at you.

“The bloodlust in your eyes make you so much more attractive but slow down.” He’s stern with his last few words but his grip on your hair loosens. His hand moves behind him supporting his weight onto the mattress and he turns his head to the side.

You don’t say a word your lips latch onto his neck once more. This time slowly drinking, careful not to take too much, careful not to give into your urges. Occasionally short groans leave his lips, the kind that you want to replay in your head over and over. It almost makes you want to never let go but you know better.

Once you’ve had enough, your mouth detaches from his body. With renewed strength hands move to his chest as you admire the blood dripping from the two distinct marks on his neck. Your body moves closer again licking the wound.

Had enough?” His voice echoes through the silence.

“Thank you” your voice comes out softly.

His hand leaves your waist to wipe the blood from the side of your lip before his lips are on yours. Your eyes flutter shut, savouring the taste of iron against his tongue.

“And sorry” you confess as he pulls away

“No you’re not, we both know you’ll do it again” he says knowingly

“Not for leaving, for your vase. Seemed expensive.”

“Mmm it was, but I can just get another” he smirks. “now tell me how did you manage to exhaust yourself this much?”

Right, of course he’d want to know why you were covered in blood and dirt

“Hunters” you rest your head against his chest, “I killed two but one got away,” you sigh “Their weapons are getting more advanced and there was something in their blood. It was rancid”

“Really? Well it was their stupidity. Most know you belong to me” his hand caresses your back, up and down gently.

“And only fools would believe they can rival you. I will take care of the rest and look into their advancements. Maybe we’ll uncover the secret behind their distasteful blood”

“Hmmmm” your head remains on his chest, eyes closed as the comfort sinks into your body.

“Don’t fall asleep, we need to get you all cleaned up first” he looks down at you

“Will you join me?” You look up, finally able to resume your troublesome nature.

His hand moves to play with your hair before tucking it behind your ears

“Is that what you want?”

You lean into his hand, cheek pressed against his palm

“Yes”

“Then I will” he cupped your face as if you were delicate, and his lips met yours. His arms wrap around you once more, lifting you and heading for the bathroom.

#zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #asirel #asirel x reader

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ero-heart · 9 months

Note

Ok this was in my head for a loooong time

The main 4 x young hank! Reader

So reader is from another universe where they are hank and they are actually too young like 10 or 12, while in there world Sanford, deimos, and 2bdamned are older than them, unlike hank they are obedient and weak but they are faster than hank and too kind.

So what if the main 4 meet reader By them accidentally opening a universal portal that blasts a small hank(aka you) that's all beat up as the main 4 see another Auditor but the portal closes before Auditor could get to it and the main 4 find out that you are actually a ten year old getting their ass beat by Auditor

Also the other Auditor in the portal was enraged that a you actually damaged their non-physical form with a cute kitty knife :)

I love it! We love a murderous child!

Also, I am so sorry for the delay! Felt kind of unmotivated yk

Reader’s pronouns are they/it for this one.

Cw: blood, gore, mentions of violence

FUN DAY WITH KID HANK!

(Main 4 + young Hank! Reader)

(Obviously platonic)

Just another day for the S.Q, it was dark and rainy, people were entering and leaving the building, either returning or leaving from missions, or leaving for a smoke, like Deimos was. Standing under the entrance along with the S.Q guards, making a little chit chat, they didn’t mind that he smoked so he stayed there, Doc has been pestering him to smoke outside since the smell covered the entire building. Deimos don’t really care where he smokes so he complied. It was a day like any other but there was something wrong, it was overly peaceful. Everyone knows Nevada is not a safe place at all and any soothing and quiet moment is a state of alert for anything to happen. Deimos looked around the streets, strangers having a little walk, no umbrella to protect themselves, wet paper getting stuck on the pavement, full of rain puddles. Everything seemed weird and the anticipation was getting not only him but the guards as well.

“…So…did you guys sleep well today?”

“I did thanks for asking Dave.”

“Me too, thanks Dave.”

“You’re welcome yeah.”

It was starting to get awkward. Deimos dropped his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it, ready to leave when something shot right at one of the guard’s head.

“Fucking called it!”

It dented the cement wall, squashing Dave’s head and painting it red, the thing then fell on the ground. It looked like a purple ball. The remaining guard got in position as Deimos patted his clothes to find his pistol, remembering that he left it with his other jacket on the laundry room.

“Boss we have a man down!”

The guard called on his talkie as they both took upon the portal that is formed before them. A shadowed figure glared at them before it closed. They looked at each other trying to figure out what the fuck happened as the purple bundle sat up and began to shake. The guard snapped his head right at it. Little arms flapping all around, little legs kicking up and down, it began to screech in anger, dirtying themselves with the blood of the dead guard.

“A kid? What the fuck.”

Soldiers started to come out of the HQ to find the confusing scene. A little grunt throwing a tantrum surrounded by gore on the ground. Some tried to approach them, asking the kid where their parents were, but they were only met with resistance and cat scratches to the face. The child refused to stand or move so one of the more compassionate soldiers decided to lift them up in order to bring them to the boss, not wanting to leave the kid alone. Deimos just watched the scene unfold, trying to keep a deadpan face as the soldier was being hissed and scratched at by the little guy. He wanted far away from that kid.

Hearing their own name at the intercom was never fun, Deimos was already forming an explanation as to why whatever he did was wrong and he would DEFINITELY never do it again. Doc was always a pain on his side, being monitored 24/7 because he couldn’t be left alone or else “a ruckus” would happen, whatever that meant. That was the original reason why Sanford was so close to him to begin with, being tasked by their boss to keep a eye on the man and keep him in line. What Doc did not expect tho was that instead of being influenced by Sanford’s serious and militaristic persona, Deimos was the one who influenced him to be more open and rebel up. So the only change was the name beside his that was called. This case was no different. Both were walking towards Doc’s office, discussing what could have been wrong.

“You did not take the lemons out of the vents last time and I know.”

“I did! I remember doing it! I think.”

“The building is still infested with flies you definitely didn’t.”

Upon opening the office’s doors, a purple shadow just dashed past them, knocking Deimos on the ground. They could hear the frustrated groan of Doc who approached them.

“Great you idiots couldn’t knock on the door before entering.”

Deimos sat up and looked at his boss, taking notice of how ruined the office looked.

“Tf was that doc?”

“That was the child who was spat out of the portal earlier. The one you just let loose on the base. I am cutting your payment.”

“What are we supposed to do?? Like??”

“I called you here to babysit that abomination at least until we know what to about it. But since they just ran away, your duty is to catch it.”

“Pff NO WAY”

Deimos got up from the ground.

“Do we look like nannies to you?? Hell to the NO we are taking care of that kid”

“Do you remember your contract Deimos?” Doc takes out the document that was conveniently hidden on his pocket, he pointed at Deimos signature, written with pink glittery scented pen, the only one available on the moment of signing, he could still smell the strawberries on it. He rolled his eyes.

“Tch fine..”

“Hey buddy,” Sanford put a hand on his shoulder “s’not a big deal! We dealt with far worse shit than that.”

Sanford definitely regret those words. It was a game of cat and mouse. Sanford knew what he was expected to do on this job, but out of everything, THIS had to be the worse and most embarrassing. Following the bloodied stripes down the hallways led them to find the kid making tricks with their roller skates on the cafeteria, currently rolling on top of the tables, jumping on one to another and knocking the hungry hirelings food off their trays. Sanford quickly ran and jumped on it, dashing after the little grunt. He thought about what his mom would do in this situation. She always told him he was a very calm child and never caused any trouble, but when something did happen she normally said the magic words that got any kid excited.

“Hey kid how about we take a little break huh?? How about ice cream?”

They just spun around to face him and stopped on their tracks. Sanford was not quick enough to stop and slipped on a spaghetti plate and flew off above the kid and falling right on a wandering troop passing nearby. Sanford cursed and quickly got up, half apologizing to the poor troop squished on the ground and looked around to see that the kid was nowhere to be found. Deimos arrived panting and gasping for air.

“Haa where.. hoo where did the kid go??”

“I have no idea.. maybe the gymnasium? It’s the nearest path for them to disappear to quickly.”

“Yea.. maybe they have gone there..”

“You ok there buddy?”

“No..can we do a little pause??”

“We don’t really have time for pauses dude.”

“Carry me then.”

Sanford sighed and knelt down for Deimos to latch on his back. When he felt Deimos arms around his neck he got up.

“We can’t keep doing this all the time when we are in a chase bud.”

“What? It’s not my fault my lungs are shit!”

Sanford side eyed him for a moment because it was definitely his fault.

Going on the direction of the gym, Sanford internally cheered to see the red stripes on the floor to it’s direction. Busting doors open, both men followed the stripes until it came to an end. Taking their face of the ground, before them stood none other than Hank, holding the kid by the scruff of the neck. He was doing his daily training when the little grunt zoomed by him, quickly getting snatched by Hank and lifted to his view. Sanford and Deimos took a sigh of relief to see the kid finally contained. Both never wanted to hug Hank so bad in their lifes.

“Hank! Our hero!” Deimos slipped off of Sanford’s back “You got them!”

Hank just looked at the boys and then at the child, who was comically trying to kick and punch him to no avail. He tilted his head to show his confusion, not really getting what the two where on about. Sanford took the kid from Hank’s hand and held it at a distance. It was when he realized how.. alike, the two were. Both Hank and the kid wore long clothes that hid their skin and wore colorful goggles to protect their eyes. Not counting the helmet and roller skates the kid wore, also the skirt that matched their colorful pants. Other than that both were pretty similar.

“Huh..” Deimos seemed to notice also, looking back and forth at the two Hanks before him. “Pfft hahaha this thing looks EXACTLY like you!”

Hank just gave a grunt in response and turned back to finish his curls.

“Oh! Oh! How about we call them Kid Hank? Kank??”

Sanford shook his head “It doesn’t matter right now we need to take them somewhere safe and entertaining to pass the time”

“Well the gym seems like a good pick, there’sa lot of cool things to play with and climb.”

Sanford thought for a second, it might be a good idea, the gym always was a playground for him when he was a small grunt himself.

“Ok let’s just let ‘em roam free here, it’s best to lock the door so they can’t escape.”

The rest of the afternoon was way less stressful. The only thing they had to worry about was the kid not dropping something heavy on themselves. Or fell on something blunt or sharp where their skater gear didn’t protect. They refused to take those roller skates off tho, so management should go more harder when they wanted to jump on the trampoline. Currently Deimos and Sanford were sitting on a bench besides the water fountain, taking care of the kiddie’s bag while they hanged and swing off the polia, with Hank pushing them. Deimos played with the bag’s keychains, looking at the silly designs and colors.

“Where did a kid found those? lol”

He decided to snoop inside the bag as well, only to be met with countless of weapons, colorful knives decorated with stickers and glitter, sharp scissors themed after cartoon characters, nerf guns (with pins instead of soft foam darts) and tiny brass knuckle rings with even more stickers. Maybe this kid was more alike Hank than he initially thought.

“Take your hands off of this Deimos! It’s not yours!”

“Wtf bro I was just looking for a card or paper with this kid’s guardian’s info damb.”

Sanford chuckles at his friend’s antics and goes back on watching Hank play with mini Hank. To his surprise Hank was fairly gentle pushing the kid on the polia, never in his live he thought he would see someone like Hank be so delicate. Though everything went on shambles as Hank gave a hard push and the kid let go of the polia, hitting hard on the wall.

“SHIT!”

Suddenly the gym doors were kicked open by doc. Deimos and Sanford jumped while Hank just stared at him. Doc marched to the kid’s direction and picked it up from the floor, then marched back to leave the gym, passing by the bench to pick the kiddie bag too. The three only looked at the distancing doc on the hallways.

“We can stop babysitting now right?”

Doc managed to find a way to contact the Auditor, who gave him a portal opening device to bring the kid back to where they came from. Before he could turn to his office, the kid tugged on his shirt collar, looking up at him with a bruised cheek. Doc paused upon seeing it, quickly turning the other way around to medical.

M.D Skinner looked at the bundle on Doc’s arms being put on the mat, now sitting and kicking their legs. He asked no questions as he went to work, putting in some ice on the bruise and attending other unseen wounds on their body. They played with his coat sleeves during the check up, also taking a hold of the stethoscope around his neck. He let the kid listen to their own heartbeat and let them hold other medical instruments. Doc watched the scene with great interest, never really witnessing a caring relationship throughout his whole life. Soon when the child was all patched up, Skinner gave the results. The kid had some non reversible injuries, that was the lack of their lips, but it didn’t seem to impair them. Skinner gave them a little lollipop and excused himself, wishing the both a great day.

Doc took little Hank back to his office, that was still in shambles. He put them on the table, glad that they already seemed tired from playing so much and now distracted with a lollipop, so they aren’t as energetic as before. Taking the portal opening device and placing it on the ground, everything was ready.

“Ready to go home buddy?”

The kid nodded their head, they were kinda sleepy. Upon activating the portal, a shadowed white figure immediately bursted through it, with flaming purple eyes glaring at the two. The figure took a pink decorated knife off of its form and threw at the table, besides mini Hank, who immediately brightened up upon seeing it.

“This child was spat off of a portal earlier this day. It must be yours.”

The figure turned to Doc. “This little monster always causes trouble back there. It fell through it while I was trying to catch it.”

“Well it’s here now you can have it-“

The table was now empty, looking around the office only a purple blur could be seen entering the portal. The other Auditor began to shake.

“HAAAANK!!”

It immediately ran back through the portal, beginning another chase with the kid. Doc could only shake his head, feeling a strong sense of deja-vu seeing all of this.

That was kind of long haha I am really sorry if anything was ooc qwq I also drew kid Hank’s design for this fanfic! Hope you like it! Stay safe 💞

#reader insert #x reader #fanfic #madcom x reader #madness combat project nexus #madness combat x reader #platonic

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 years

Text

Date Me

Hi! Feel free to skip this request if it doesn’t inspire u or something! But I was wondering if u could please write Eddie x femreader where maybe reader is Chrissy’s really shy and quiet best friend who’s always reading and hasn’t really dated anyone cuz every time someone wants to get close or something it’s because they want her to help them out with Chrissy and she has a crush on Eddie, so when Eddie tries to talk to her and asks about Chrissy she assumes that it’s because he likes Chrissy but in reality he just wants Chrissy to help him ask reader out sorry in a cute way cuz yk Chrissy knows what the reader likes idk if that makes sense 😭

Warnings; a little bit of angst 💞 fluff.

@erikaar 💞 hope you like it 💞

💞💞

Chrissy had always been her best friend since they were in Pre-K. They were as close as sisters but while Chrissy could be extroverted and enjoyed the spotlight with the cheerleaders yn wasn't like that.

Most of the time she had her nose stuck in a book and worked with Nancy on the school paper.

Dating wasn't something that happened much for her, she always found that whoever asked her out only did it to get close to Chrissy.

The only guy she wanted to notice her was Eddie, Munson. He had been her crush for a long time now.

The crush first started when she saw the way he took the new freshman of this year under his wing, the kindness with which he treated them tugged on her heart.

Then she began to notice how beautiful his brown eyes were, how they shone with mischief as he discussed D&D.

Eddie approaches her table and she feels her heart and hope fill her stomach.

What could he want?

"Hi, sweetheart", he smiles shyly.

"Hi".

"Have you seen where Chrissy is?". Oh, right. Chrissy of course he wanted Chrissy, not her. She fakes a smile ignoring the pain in her heart.

She hoped Eddie had liked her for her but obviously not, he liked Chrissy.

"She's at her locker, you'll find her there", he nods, smiles at her then rushes away leaving her to her heartache and goes back to reading her book.

Why did she think he would like her? What an idiot she shakes her head. Anytime someone wanted something, wanted to take her it was to get close to Chrissy, to use her.

She just hoped Eddie would never be like that but she was wrong.

💞💞

Eddie finds Chrissy at her locker exactly as yn said and he rushed his question out to Chrissy desperate to know how to impress her friend.

"Hey, Chrissy I was just wondering what yn is into?". Chrissy smiles in utter delight and she squeals.

"Are you finally going to ask her out?" when he nods she claps her hands together.

"Finally!" He grins at her enthusiasm and he hopes that yn says yes.

"Yeah, I asked her where you were though I didn't tell her what it was about but I want your advice on where she would like to go on a date?"

Chrissy looks briefly panicked and he is suddenly confused.

"Oh shit, it's just whenever someone has tried to date her in the past or get close to her it's so they can get close to me"

Eddie listens to this anger fierce. Why wouldn't anyone want to get to know yn? Why use her? She was a sweetheart.

"Shit! I'm so into Chrissy, I don't want to her to think that". Chrissy soothes him.

"It's alright, we can fix this. She loves books, flowers, impromptu movie nights, she loves guys who can play the guitar and wants to learn herself, she loves animals and has an adorable teddy that she's named Theodore"

His heart swells at hearing that she loves guitar players and he thanks Chrissy who gives him a warning look.

"Do not fuck this up and don't ever hurt her or I'll make you regret it understand" he gulps and nods, shit she's scary when she's annoyed.

He would never hurt yn but he nods not wanting to piss her off and begins to plan his date idea.

💞

Eddie sits down beside her and he looks nervous as she readies herself to go home.

She's still hurting from earlier but he doesn't know about any of her past and she doesn't want to scare him away.

"Hi, Eddie" he smiles all dimples and looks a bit nervous which she isn't used to seeing him nervous. He's always so confident.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date", she opens her mouth ready to tell him to just ask Chrissy if he wants to date her as she is sick of being used.

It isn't Chrissy's fault of course but it still hurts, then Eddie speaks again driving this thought from her mind.

"This isn't because of Chrissy, she told me about those assholes before with you, using you. Pisses me off. I asked where Chrissy was today so she could give me ideas on what you like, so I could ask you out".

Her mood immediately brightens.

"I wanted to ask if you would like to come to mine for a movie night, we can go to Family Video and rent whatever you like, pick up snacks and talk?"

It sounds perfect.

"I'd love to Eddie". He takes her hand and kisses it.

"I'm crazy about you sweetheart. I like you so much" he strokes her cheek and she moves closer as he kisses her.

Heat floods in her stomach and she deepens the kiss as he pulls her tighter to him. They kiss even as it begins to rain soaking them both but they don't care too lost in each other.

💞💞

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n

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suguru-getos · 11 months

Note

In the spirit of Pride, I just want to thirst over Mommy Candace. She would be such a soft but stern dom...sit on my face plz

I'd move to the Sumeru desert in a heartbeat because all my favorites are from there. Candace, Cyno, and Deyha? Sign me up.

candace’s voice is so soothing ngl and her behavior is so care giving she is definitely mommy candace. i also love the design of dehya after signora she’s the first woman i ever liked in genshin. i just loved signora and how she was so bitchy and aristocratic in general 😹 i’m no rider of the pride train but i can completely understand what kinda amazing dom candace would be !!

i love cyno though!! he seems so stern and menacing but he would be the softest pleasure dom for his s/o i can just see that yk?? i feel like after hyv established how intimidating and scary he was … they cut back on it a little to make cyno look more approachable in ways. 🤔

#cyno #genshin impact #dehya #candace #candace thirst #cyno thirst #genshin impact thirst

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n0tamused · 3 years

Note

i saw you're taking jon snow requests 👀 i read your rules and know you won't take anything too freaky but would you be willing to write something about him receiving a blowjob, maybe his first? 👀 i know this may be a bit too much so of course you don't have to include it but aksjd i love him so much he's such a virgin <3 i just wanna bully him sometimes. just a bit. he looks like he's the type of dude that wouldn't know how to react, his legs wouldn't stop shaking <333

Warnings: smut, NSFW, minors dni.

A/n: these are quite short but I hope they're still to your liking anon! Sorry for the long wait.

Jon Snow x Reader - Headcanons

Jon was always picked on and teased for such things by both Theon and Robb, and being easily frustrated got him a plethora of silly nicknames.

When you first came into his life he kept you at arms length, not wanting to be further picked on and not wanting to embarrass himself in front of someone so great as you

Finally when you started being more physical he allowed himself the fleeting kisses, pecks and more intimate embraces.

Gosh, the guy would be meek, putty in your hands when you first initiate more intimate acts

You'll have to really warm him up, maybe have some ale beforehand to soothe his nerves a bit

He's all about pleasuring you first, but he's completely lost and does not want to admit it

He's awfully sweet, looking out for positive reactions from you

But then he will let you take charge and oh boy-

You'd have to sit him down at the edge of the bed or on a chair so he wouldn't fall over

Red blossoms over his cheeks and neck, his skin awfully warm to the touch but he still tries to hold on and pleasure you first

You push him back, tell him to relax, he listens

He can't take his eyes off of you, only when your own gaze falls on his- only then does he look elsewhere

Jon is so bashful, he doesn't know what to do. What to say?? What does he do with his hands??? Tf does he do???

For a long while he is quite stiff, but as his pleasure builds up and his orgasm approaches he bucks his hips into your mouth

He apologizes immediately, thinking he hurt you somehow, but it didn't bother you, then his bucking becomes more and more frequent

You don't stop, and he becomes even more vocal gradually

Oh the poor boy-

His thighs begin to tremble and his toes curl as the coil inside him tightens

He's lost in the warmth and the pleasure your mouth is providing, he's mesmerized

He nibbles and bites at his knuckles to keep himself quiet

His other hand is holding you by the neck languidly, his fingers in your hair and he's subconsciously pushing you onto him

Oh no- gods help him when you begin to play with his balls-

He completely loses it, tries to warn you too

Jon is such a sweet boy and is flustered even after he had emptied himself in your mouth

Breathing hard as his mind swims with lust

You just smile innocently

You definitely tease him for it in the future or even when you go to have sex again

Although its more subtle, an inside thing between the two of you yk it's y'all's little dirty secret

#Jon snow #jon snow imagine #jon snow headcanons #jon snow x reader #jon snow x y/n #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones preferences #n0tamused.smut #-dragon.delight

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aelingalathyniusrailme · 3 years

Text

Power recognizes power

A little power training gwynriel fic that came from me writing “if you find me at the edge, we’ll jump together.” and I was like this sentence deserves to be the title of something. plus throw everything (and by everything I mean that one sentence in the book) that you know about lightsingers away I’m just using the cute name. and yk there may or may not be some smut at the end.

She was glowing.

She was glowing and Azriel did not mean she looked radiant or that she was overcome with joy, although she did and she was. Gwyneth Berdara was a living, breathing star. As if the spring equinox had come early this year.

Her skin lit up against the blackness of the sky and her hair burned bright with the ferocity of the hearth.

Gwyneth Berdara had stopped singing, the crowd was silent. All eyes were on her but she was looking at him, her light, a beacon to his darkness.

His shadows yearned to go to her, he yearned to go to her. Instead, they both stayed stagnant, watching, waiting.

Azriel was had had enough, he dissolved from view and reappeared on the stage. Startled, Gwyn, took a step back and he stayed right with her, matching her step for step.

He gently tucked a stray piece of lit-up auburn hair behind her here, whispering, “It appears you glow, my love.”

Gwyn, ultimately getting over her initial shock lightly pushed him on the shoulder, “Don’t do that.” She scowled.

Chuckling, he pressed his mouth to hers, in a soft, soothing kiss, forgetful of the audience behind them. As she relaxed beneath his touch, the glow became dimmer and dimmer until it ceased to be. Darkness returned and he stepped back. Gwyn took a breath and stilled. The nervous, passionate energy, that arouse when she sang, calmed for now.

Azriel turned to the crowd, “Due to the events that occurred here tonight, the performance will have to be cut short.” A soft boo drew his attention and immediately he isolated the noise. “Do you want to boo my mate again?” Azriel threatened coolly, his eyes narrowing.

Annoyed, she sighed and spoke to the crowd, “Oh ignore him, I truly am sorry for this interruption but I want to give nothing more than my best and right now I feel as if I can’t do that. the show will be rescheduled sometime next month, letters will be sent out with more information.”

He watched as the stunned and irritated faces slowly began disappearing. Some winnowing away, others taking the slightly more traditional door. Gwyn held her hand out to him. He took it, “So you’re a living lamp?”

“An astute observation.”

“Is there any way I can convince you to rest now and figure this out later?”

She sighed, “It has been an especially long night.”

Azriel stared at her in disbelief, “did you just agree that you should rest?”

“Oh close your mouth, you’ll swallow a fly.” He responded by grinning at her and winnowing them away to their shared home.

Taking off his shirt he yawned not realizing how tired he actually was. It was still strange to him, being able to sleep so freely, without the looming fear of the past and what he couldn’t control. He stopped, realizing Gwyn had not moved from the door.

Gently he asked, “Are you coming?”

She looked at him blankly, lost in thought for a moment before she responded, “Um-yeah-later.” He was unconvinced so she tried again. “I think I’m going to stay out here and make some tea, maybe read a book.”

Azriel gave her a knowing look but did not push, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Az.” He tenderly kissed her cheek and walked to their room, immediately passing out on the bed.

—————————————————–

Azriel awoke at dawn and turned, unsurprisingly, to find the left side of the bed cold and empty. He sighed as he got out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants, mumbling. “Gwyneth berdara, you are going to be the death of me.”

Knowing there was no way she would be in the house but believing he probably should, he checked regardless and when he determined that she was in fact not in the house, he closed his eyes. When he opened them once again he found himself at the house of wind.

He nodded in acknowledgment, “Clotho,”

Shadowsinger. “The one and only.”

Is there something you require? “Just looking for that mate of mine. Any chance she’s here”

You know she is, and you know precisely where to find her. Ask what you truly want to ask. Through gritted teeth, he asked, “How long has she been here?”

Since 11 pm. Exhaling, he muttered, “Why can’t that damn woman ever rest.”

Over excursion out of only stubborn will seems to be a similarity between the two of you. Azriel frowned slightly before smiling pleasantly, “It’s been a pleasure as always, thank you for your help.”

Clotho only nodded and Azriel began the stairs to the 7th floor.

It took a moment for him to find her, the shadowsinger was a trained spy, forced to observe and retain even the smallest of details, yet he couldn’t find a bubbly redhead in a room full of texts and stories.

Ah, no wonder he hadn’t seen her. Gwyn was surrounded by hundreds upon hundreds of books. She was drowning in literature, her hair was tied loosely in a braid with quite a few pieces falling out, there were dark circles beneath her eyes, and she was sporting the slightly insane look that came from a lack of sleep.

“Gwyn.” Her head jerked up in surprise to see him.

“Oh Az, Ok Ok, I promise I will go to sleep soon I just need 5 more minutes. I’m so so so close. I think I’m going to skip training today. Ok how about 2 minutes. 10. No that’s more. 10 sets of 1 minute. I just need 10 sets of 1 minute. I’m fine how are you?”

“Gwyn, my love, you’re delirious.”

She brushed him off, “What no I’m fine. I’m fine. Did I already say that? I can’t remember.”

Logic was never the way to deal with her insane stubbornness, so he tried a different approach. He pushed down his worry for her, and curled his mouth into a smirk, “I bet,” She perked up like a dog about to be fed, “that you can’t summarize everything you learned last night into,” he checked the clock. “15 minutes.”

“I could do it in 10.”

“Prove it.”

“And when I win?”

“I leave you to research. But if you can’t you have to go to bed.”

“Time starts now.”

Gwyn took a deep breath and began. “First I looked into where light magic is supposed to originate: the day court. Their magic is described as warm and comforting. Every single text I read described the magic the same way, as a sort of yellowish-brown light, like the sun. But the magic that came from me was more of an icy blinding light, like the lights from the stars rather than the sun. Also, as far as I know, I don’t have family from the day court so I looked into the family I do have. My family from the autumn court. However, we know that autumn court magic is fire, and what manifested in me was light not heat. My grandmother was a nymph so I thought well what type of magic do nymphs have. And the answer was severely disappointing, with basic plant magic being the most a nymph was able to do. I was stumped for a few hours before I realized. I’m basing my research on what I believe to be true not what I know to be true. I was told that I am a quarter nymph and because that heritage would explain my non-high fae-like features I believed that, for there was no reason for me not to. But what if my nymph grandmother was not a nymph at all. I flipped through dozens of books on faeries that have similar features, light magic, and/or can live on land and water. For the most part, I could not find anything, but then out of the corner of my eye I found a small tome on the history of light magic, the majority being all things I’d seen a million times before on the day court, but a passage no more than a page long, referenced ‘the lightsinger.’ Now what is a Lightsinger, you may ask? Honestly, I had no idea what or who they were so I found every book and story I could on them. The lightsinger’s, instead of being a title for a way to manipulate magic, like shadowsingers or daemati, were a race. A long-lost fae race said to be able to bend and create light with their voices and song. It’s said that they died out due to a conflict with the shadowsingers but every so often there are sightings of unknown nymph-like creatures in you’ll never believe where. The autumn court. Now I would only have 25% of lightsinger blood but magic is a fickle thing and some sources believe that when bred with high fae blood the magic intensifies.” Gwyn exhaled.

Azriel grinned victoriously, “It’s been 20 minutes.”

“Goddamn it, I didn’t even get to the interactions between shadowsingers and lightsingers.”

Now he was intrigued. “Well if you want to continue I certainly won’t stop you.”

“No no,” she yawned, “I lost which means I will be going to bed. But I do want to alter our deal slightly.”

“Oh?”

“I sleep now, you train me tomorrow.” The set of her chin and the look in her eye were enough to assure him of how serious she was.

“You want a male who specializes in darkness to help you master your light?”

“Certain theories believe that the mother gifted the light and shadowsingers their gifts to balance each other out and to remain harmonious.” She reasoned. “So yes there is no one I would want more to teach me.”

“I will not take it easy on you.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“Alright Berdara, we meet Sunday at dawn, do not be late.”

“I’ll be there.”

——————————————————————————————————–

Sunday arrived and Azriel watched as Gwyn came down to the training ring in her leathers, with a white ribbon tied in her hair.

“Good morning Gwyneth.”

“So formal.” He shot her a look. “Oh alright ok my turn. Good morning Azriel, shadowsinger, spymaster of the night court, mate of the most amazing female to grace this planet.”

“Training is serious.”

“Of course it is. Shall we begin?”

“I want you to light up the room.”

“What? is it not already lit?”

He smirked and let his shadows paint the room black. Azriel himself became smoke, nothing more than a voice in the darkness.

“Az, az come on this is not funny.”

“Good, because it’s not a joke.” His voice came from every direction and every way Gwyn turned she was surrounded by endless nothing. “You must learn to sing the song of light the way I learned the language of shadow.”

“Speaking in vague melodrama feels like it’s not going to be that effective.”

Gwyn tried to back up only to find what was once the training ring now bled together with the depth of the sky.

“Let the light speak to you. Coax it, nurture it. Burn through the darkness and find the light.”

“How am I supposed to do that.”

Gwyn thought of the way Nesta harnessed her silver fire, the way her eyes became the flame itself. She concentrated and searched deep within herself, searching and looking for the light she knew she possessed.

All she saw was a hallowed chamber.

“No.” The word echoed throughout the room. “Our magic is not like others, we do not create out of nothing, we manipulate what is already there.”

“How am I supposed to manipulate if I’m in a room with no light?” Gwyn huffed frustrated.

“Just because the shadows are masking it, does not mean it is not there.”

He was so damn infuriating. She tried calling the light to her, she flexed her hands, she even tried speaking to it, all to no avail.

“As you said, magic is fickle and our elements especially. Light and darkness do not want to be bound or controlled, let the light be a friend, a companion, let it want to help, let it want to be influenced by your will.”

But how the fuck was she supposed to do that.

“Think of the first time it came to your call.” He whispered ominously. “What were you thinking. What were you feeling? Power often manifests through emotion.”

Singing. She had been singing. Was it really so easy that all she had to do was sing?

Turns out it wasn’t.

For hours she sang hundreds of songs. From songs in the old fae language that she sang at the priestess services to ones she had written herself. Nothing worked. Azriel had let her have a singular break when she desperately needed to pee and even then he was skeptical.

He had left her to her own devices leaving his shadows to watch over her progress. When he returned he found Gwyn clutching her knees, rocking in the shadows. Her gaze was unfocused and she was humming to herself.

“You have officially broken me. I’m done.” She wanted nothing more than to sit in the library with her sisters and a book.

“No.”

Gwyn’s eyes snapped into focus, her breathing steadied, and she went predatorily still. “Excuse me.”

“You heard me. No.” Azriel laughed, a cold vicious laugh. “You asked me to train you. Gwyneth Berdara has never quit before and she certainly won’t start now.”

Gwyn was seething, but she remained quiet. “What?” He was toying with her. “A little darkness too much for you. Light up the room and we won’t have a problem.”

“Oh that’s right you can’t. 10 hours in and no light in sight. You’re pathetic.”

Her anger cleared her mind and in that moment of clarity a memory, buried deep within her, resurfaced as if it was resting, snoozing until its moment of need.

Gwyn was in her mother's lap, a black-haired girl sat across from her. Her voice pulled her attention. “My girls, Catrin,” She tickled her, resulting in a giggle from her lost sister, before she turned her head, “Gwyneth.” And also tickled her. Gwyn's small hands clutched at their mother, desperately trying to hold on. “My two beautiful daughters.” She sighed. “Your lives will be filled with so much darkness, darkness that you do not deserve. But I need you two to be strong, to stay with each other, and to find strength in the other.” ‘I don’t get it,” Gwyn whined.

“We are a part of a glorious and lost people, a people of light and song. But they fear us because they do not understand us.”

Gwyn and Catrin looked up at her, confused and innocent.

“It’s ok, you will. You know the song I sing to you every night before you go to sleep?” Gwyn and Catrin cheered, “Yeah.”

“I want you to sing it with me, and I don’t want you to ever forget it. Can you do that for me?”

Their voices came together in a melodic lullaby. It was captivating and cold, those who heard could not look away. The song demanded to be heard, to be sung.

The words came tumbling out of Gwyn, they twisted around her tongue and lips as if finally home. Lost but not forgotten. Lost but born anew. Through the shadow and darkness, her eyes found the light, it heard her call and from every direction it found her. She pulled the brilliance of the stars to her and let the light paint the dark white.

The shadows retreated to Azriel who stood just two feet in front of her. Their eyes locked and he smiled, “there she is.”

The light flowed and flowed, and the room lit up in a blaze of pearlescent radiance. Her pale skin lit and she had once again become one with the stars.

But while the call came from her, there was another that drew her light forward. His shadows and her light curiously answered the pull. Finding each other between Azriel and Gwyn. One did not dissolve into the other like it should but instead mingled, swirling around each other in an almost playful manner. They became one from two opposites that never should have met.

As they blended together she felt a pounding in her chest and a throbbing somewhere lower. Her toes curled and she craved more. Their power was its own entity and yet connected to them. A push and pull, a desire to be close.

Azriel bridged the gap between them breathing heavily, pulling her against him as he’d never felt her before. “Az.” she gasped.

His eyes were on her lips as he licked his own, smiling, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so alive.”

“You’re the worst,” She said between breaths.

“I know.” And their lips met in a furious burst of passion.

He kissed her with a fiery hunger, a male starving. Her hands weaved through his hair, her fingers getting lost in the darkness. Gwyn wanted nothing more then to be lost in his darkness, as he wanted to drown in her light. Azriel gripped her waist, grinding his hardness into her causing her to moan.

“You make such pretty sounds for me.” He chuckled, ripping her shirt off.

“Fuck me.” It was an order, not a request.

“Gladly.” Their clothes were gone moments later. His kisses moved down her neck as he sucked and his fingers dipped to her cunt as he felt her. “Always so wet and ready for me.”

She wrapped her hand around his cock, “Always so hard for me.”

“Can’t help it.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.” He laid her down in the middle of the training ring and stroked his cock up and down her folds, pressing against her clit. “oh my god-fuck.”

With that, his control snapped and he buried himself to the hilt in her. Stroking once, twice.

He smirked, crooning, “look how perfectly we fit.”

His thrusts were slow and shallow, edging her on, basking in the feel of him in her, of her around him.

He then went harder, hitting her in the right spot every time, but Gwyn needed more.

“Faster.”

“Your wish is my command.” Azriel fucked her hard and fast, and with every thrust she moaned in ecstasy, driving her hips forward, meeting him step for step.

“Oh my god fuck me.”

“Such a good girl, taking it so well.” He captured a moan on her lips, devouring her.

“yes, yes fuck.”

Where the light met the dark, was where Gwyn met Azriel. They were cocooned in a shell of power flowing between and all around them. They were a storm of blinding light and depthless shadow, the lines of what were and were not, blurred to just the other.

“Gwyn.” He groaned, nothing existed but them.

“Az I’m gonna cum.”

“Yes, my love, cum for me.”

Every thrust became sporadic and uncontrolled as if his pleasure had taken a mind of its own. He swirled his tongue around her nipple and ground her clit with his fingers.

It was all too much, Gwyn cried out as she came, her back arching, toes curling. Her cunt tightened around his cock as he fucked her past completion. She was everything and watching her cum was enough to send him over the edge as he emptied himself in her, collapsing on the ground next to her.

For a moment they were silent before Gwyn spoke, “would you like to hear what I learned about the interactions between Lightsinger’s and Shadowsinger’s” She smirked, “Apparently the sex is unlike even mate sex.”

“I can vouch for that.”

Gwyn laughed, and if it wasn’t the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

#gwynriel #gwyn berdara #azriel #gwyn x azriel #one shot #gwynriel one shot #smut #Gwynriel fanfiction

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struggling-with-time · 3 years

Text

Rainy days [Corpse x reader]

Paring: Corpse husband x Female!reader

Summary: “corpse x fem!reader ( she’s also a youtuber ) where they are just friends for a few years, but reader has been developing feelings for a while now. with corpse’s fan base growing so quickly, there’s also a lot of growing attention from other girls ( fans & other social media influencers ). corpse is happy with all the attention, while it is breaking the reader’s heart more every day. basically, super angsty lol and it’s totally up to you how you want to end it!” requested by anon

“please make one where like the reader and corpse fought so its like raining outside and yk the cliche type” requested by anon

Warnings: Angst and jealousy, kinda sad, I’m sorry

Words: 1.8k

A/N: Open for requests. Two requests for one.

Read part 2 cloudy afternoons here

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You’re happy for Corpse, of course you are. What good friend wouldn’t be happy for their friend when they suddenly start to shoot for the stars? You definitely would. Right? It’s not like it hurts to watch him take in all these girls that throw themselves at him, he has never been happier for the many years you’ve known him. His YouTube channel is finally paying the bills for him, and you’re happy he doesn’t have to fear getting an eviction note, for dancing on the line a little too long. You’re happy that he has all these new friends. You’re happy he’s enjoying himself. You’re happy, because he’s happy. So why does it hurt so much?

You’ve had feelings for your best friend for quite some time. You tried to push them away, which in return just seemed to cultivate them and make them stronger. You tried your damn best just to be his quirky happy best friend that was along with him for the ride. You never minded being the one to pick up the pieces when he fell apart. He would do the same for you… He would do the same for you, right?

You wipe away a tear escaping from your eye. You’re sitting in the shower crying on the floor. This is really what you’ve become? You think to yourself, as you lean your head back against the wall, looking up at the wooden ceiling.

He would do the same for you…

You dryly laugh to yourself, of course he wouldn’t, because then he would have known when you started pulling away. You wipe the tears away, get up and rise off your face once more, before stepping out. You look at where your mirror used to be. You took it down, not able to face yourself was easier than to accept this is just how you look permanently now. Dark circles underneath your eyes, as they’ve sunken quite a bit.

You kind of forgot how you really looked sometimes, until you caught yourself in something reflective, like your pc when it ran out of power, or your metallic glazed mug. You smile bitterly at the memory, Corpse had bought it to you when you reached 100.000 subs on YouTube, saying the play button wasn’t enough. It used to be a prized possession, now it was one of your worst.

You’re happy you build your YouTube brand on variety gaming, without a face cam. You couldn’t imagine having to explain away the way you looked. The monotone in your voice was hard enough.

I was just having an off day

Sorry, kind of sick today

My microphone isn’t picking up my voice probably.

You sigh to yourself as you collect your phone, and your empty bag. The fridge doesn’t fill itself. You’re pretty sure your fans caught onto something being wrong by the 4th excuse. You lock the door behind you, and glace up at the sky. It seems to be getting darker. You sigh as you realize you’re not going to be back home before it’s raining.

You walk the short distance down to the bus as you wait for it to arrive, you scroll through your twitter feed. It’s filled with pretty girls, much prettier than you are, throwing themselves at Corpse. You get a sudden urge to throw your phone into the passing traffic, but money has been tight lately with your down tuning of content, to take more time to be able to self-pity in the living room with a shitty romance show going on.

You really lost your best friend to your own feelings, huh. What an anticlimax.

You step onto the bus, not noticing the black dressed, black masked guy in the end of it. Watching you intentionally. If you had been able to read minds, you would hear the ongoing battle in his head on whether or not to approach you.

The bus pulls up the grocery store and you get off. Not sparing the other two passengers getting off a second thought. You pull your jacket closer together, as the wind starts getting colder. You finally arrive in the store, just a few seconds before the rain starts to drop.

The calming ominous music of the store fills your eyes, as you focus on getting something edible that isn’t directly just sugar with more sugar. You pick your groceries carefully, nothing that needs a lot of preparation. But if you eat one more tv meal, you’re going to throw it up. You’re too distracted by what pasta to choose, that you don’t realise the guy in black has now passed you for the 5th time, while you’re in aisle 9.

You choose both and head for the register. You sigh as you watch the long line, there’s only one way out, and you’re certainly not leaving your groceries now. You step in line. And pull out your phone. The lock screen taunting you with a picture of you and Corpse mushed together somehow in his gaming chair, you’re pretty sure it was Dave that took the photo. You shake your head and check the time. The bus just left. You sigh knowing there is a little over an hour before the next one leaves. Fucking public transport.

It finally becomes you, you watch the price tick up further and further. You take your card out. Swipes it through.

Declined.

What? You try it again

Declined.

C’mon, it has got to work. You try again

Declined.

And again

Declined.

And again

Declined.

You smile apologetic to the cashier, as you start to figure out what you won’t be needing too much.

“I’ll pay for her.” A deep voice speaks further down the line. You know exactly the person whose voice that is.

“Please, you don’t have to-“ You watch as Corpse steps out of the line and puts a box of cereal on the register for the cashier to ring up with the rest of your stuff.

“I don’t-“

“That’ll be 79 dollars and 32 cents, please.” The cashier ignores you.

Corpse pays and gets the receipt, knowing you’re going to beg him for you to pay him back. You used to do the same when you were little. Corpse stands by as he watches you pack your groceries, and he waits for you. He barely recognized you in the bus. It’s been weeks since you last spoke, and even longer since you last saw each other. He knows you were getting bad, but not this bad. He don’t know why he never reached out he knows he should. But there are too many unsaid things hanging in the air, and neither of you wanting to be the one to pick the first one.

He reaches out to take one of the two bags. But you take it right underneath him, and walk to the doors, leaving him to hurry after or be left behind.

“Y/N I-“

He gets surprised by the rain, he hadn’t noticed the darkening sky earlier. You keep walking until he calls out after you again.

“Y/N! Please!”

You stop in you tracks. To think you had missed hearing your name from his lips, he uses it like it’s not the only thing you have left that’s your own.

He jogs the remaining distance and puts his hand on your shoulder, and you let him turn you around to make him face you. He’s not sure if it’s the rain, or if it’s tears that’s starting to fall. He takes the rest of your face in, the dark circles, the clear weight loss. He know, you don’t know how much you don’t look like yourself.

“Listen, thank you, I’ll pay you back next month. But if you’re not going to say anything, I have places to be, and-“

He puts his hand on her chin caressing it. She suddenly looks so small standing there in front of him. You quickly pull yourself back, wanting to lean into his touch, but knowing that it would only make what hurts, hurt more in the end.

“What did you want?” You snap at him. And something snaps in him too, as his brows furrows together.

“Oh I don’t know. Say hi to my best who just up and disappeared from the face of earth two months ago. I wonder what I want.” He snaps back at you, his deep voice nearly emitting a growl of frustration from him.

“So what, that’s what it takes 2 months before you want to find me. Did you get tired of all those girls throwing themselves at you? Did you get tired of your new friends you just cast me aside from? Did you get tired of all the money? Please do tell.” You stretch out your arms in a welcoming stance.

Corpse takes a step back, you’ve never yelled at him like this before. Tears streaming down your face as you’re soothing anger.

“…You think I threw you aside?” Corpse sucks in a breath waiting for your anger to come at him, but instead you suddenly look small again.

“Didn’t you Corpse? The excuse why I could never come over anymore, why you never had time. I was happy for you, you know, I supported you all the way. Heck I even fucking loved you, and you cast me aside, you up and threw away so many memories and a long friendship, just because I suddenly didn’t fit into your new group.” You look him straight in the eyes. “Corpse, I’m tired okay. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t keep picking up your pieces and help you reassemble yourself, for you to keep casting me aside. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t need your pity; I don’t need anything from you. I’ll make sure you get the money first thing next month.”

She takes a step away from him, the before intimate atmosphere now fully escaped.

“All I ask is that we part here. I love you too much to watch you fall apart again.” Your voice is trembling as you turn around heading for the bus stop, leaving Corpse in the rain to fend for himself.

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband fic #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband imagine #delias own writing

867 notes · View notes

shelby-love · 3 years

Text

JAY HALSTEAD

Bomb Squad Alternative

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): none

Author's note: Here is another crossover between firefighter Y/N and Jay Halstead. Hope you enjoyed since I’m really proud lol. Personally I think this would be a great episode.

Requests for Jay are open again so send in your ideas! I’m thinking about putting out Christmas prompts since I’m feeling festive. Also, I’m quarantied :( went to test yesterday and I’m waiting for the results to kick in. I feel fine so I shouln’t worry but I still do yk? Anyhow, school is a b and I’m doing online atm (maybe high schools will switch to online completely until Christmas but who knows at this point).

It’s also exam weeks so that’s why I’ve been lacking time to get back to writing.

Now perpare for me to get on my knees for you at the end of this one shot. <3

“Everyone get out of the station!” You exclaimed, barging through the train station with the rest of 51. Your loud voices and heavy gear alerted everyone enough to get them to move back.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A police officer questioned, throwing an accusing eyebrow your way.

Your lieutenant left you to the police officer’s mercy with a nod of his head. You sighed, turning to the man but still keeping a steady pace with the rest of your team. “There is a bomb threat, we need to evacuate the train station.”

“A bomb threat? I didn’t get a call,” He fought, looking around as if the bomb might be anywhere. Which was true.

“The intelligence is on their way, but I suggest you give us some room to do our job,” Matt joined his voice with you to explain. Although he quickly returned to shouting.

Soon enough, you saw two dark clothed figures march down the stairs towards you. Your boyfriend came striding down towards all of you, his blue eyes assassinating the surrounding situation.

Until they fell on you.

He looks good, you allowed yourself to think. Admiring his lean figure - the leather jacket covering his muscular arms and proud CPD badge at his hip - you watched as he stalked towards you. The old lady that was clutching to your side shakily suddenly became invisible to your eyes.

You weren’t surprised to see his jaw tick at the sight of you, which made you shake your head in annoyance. Helping the lady catch the arms of a fellow firefighter became your priority. You watched as she walked outside on unsteady legs.

“Y/LN, Casey.” Your chief grabbed your attention, “What’s the situation?”

“Still no sight of the bomb chief,” Matt said. “We’re trying to get out as many people as possible.”

“It’s rush hour Chief,” You breathed, glancing at Jay for a second before giving Wallace your full attention. “The next train will be here in 10 minutes. If this bomb has a timer then that’s exactly when it will go off. We need the bomb squad here now.”

“Understood. Voight?”

The sergeant looked at Jay who shook his head. “Stuck in traffic.”

You caught Matt muttering a violent curse under his breath, which only tempted you to do the same.

“Chief we need help!”

Severide’s shout brought you and Matt to your senses immediately. There was no time to think as you both ran towards him with your heavy gear on both your shoulders.

“Y/N stop!”

It was Jay who made you halt in your tracks to turn around. “What?”

He reached for your elbow, and with ease pulled you away. “Look I...”

You knew what was going on in his head. His protective nature over you often interferes with many things, including your job. But not today.

“I know you’re worried Jay, okay?” You reasoned, gloved hands grabbing his forearms in reassurance. “But this is my job. Trust me - I hate that we’re put in this situation but there’s nothing we can do except have each other's back.”

Jay let out a loose breath of fear before masking it under a facade of blankness. He waved his hand at the police officers, giving them a sign to follow him. “Be careful.”

You bobbed your head before planting a kiss to his cheek and running back to the scene.

The sight in front of you broke your heart.

A tiny boy with tears coloring his face sat at the bench with his foot dangling over the edge, connected to what looked like a time bomb. He was all alone - barely even 7 years old, with a bright yellow beanie covering his blonde curls. Rosy tear stained cheeks, and blue eyes filled with fear made you drop on your knees immediately.

Carefully, you approached him. The fear that brew inside was pushed aside and you plastered on a smile. “Hi buddy. My name’s Y/N. We’re here to help you”

You seized the ticking bomb and managed to decipher the numbers. Shaking your head, you ignored the buzzing of your anxious heart and grabbed your radio, dialing. “We have three minutes chief. No time to wait for the bomb squad. I have to do it.”

***

Jay looked at the police officers who surrounded him in an uneven half circle, and shook his head. He could see the men trembling, hands shaking and beads of sweat appearing at their foreheads.

“Alright listen up,” He boomed. “We need to evacuate immediately. Threaten with arrest, I don’t care. Just get the civilians out of here.”

They nodded in sync, each man letting out a different toned response before leaving him be to watch what was revealing a few yards away. Jay wouldn’t admit it, but he was shaking inside. His fingertips itched to grab your heavily clothed body and swing you over his shoulder in an attempt to keep you safe... No matter how chauvinistic that sounded.

But Jay Halstead had decided to date a strong woman. A dedicated feminist at that - a woman that refused to be manhandled unless it was to take her to bed when she desired.

Now he watched her - you - shout and shove around the train station, desperate to do what his job was too. Was he a bad man for not really caring if that man that just brushed his expensive suit against his shoulder came out of there safe? He only had eyes on you, so that’s why he spent moments watching you work around like a hawk.

And then you kneeled, and your colleagues stepped out of the way. Without his permission, his dark brows bunched together and his eyes narrowed at your stature. What are you doing?

His answer fell from the sky quickly - although not literally. Voight and Boden strode to his side to discuss the situation.

“There is no time to wait for the bomb squad,” Boden said roughly, his jaw clenching. “If that bomb isn’t deactivated within the next 3 minutes not only is that boy going to die...everyone on this block will.”

Voight knew what he meant by that. Thousands of casualties. Not only will Chicago lose millions of dollars worth of repair if the block blows up - as first responders what came to their minds were the civilians. How many of them will die or be injured because of a simple mistake of following protocol and waiting? They had a firefighter there, on the scene, ready to disable the bomb and save them.

Only that firefighter was you. And that made their decision ten times harder to make.

But Boden was sure in you, and so was Voight. “Okay. Do what you gotta do.”

Wallace nodded, griping his radio. “Y/N. Go for it.”

Y/N? Jay couldn’t believe his ears. It completely slipped his mind that you had been trained for this. At that moment, his body and mind said no. He forgot all about equality you have been trying to tattoo into his mind. You were you at that moment. A simple girl he fell in love with and wanted to protect.

“What the hell Sarge?!”

***

“Okay,” You sighed enthusiastically, hoping to divert the boy’s attention to your relaxed posture. “I need you to be really still for me. Can you do that?”

The boy could barely nod as Sylvie held his head still in the cervical collar.

“What’s your name?” Sylvie asked him, ignoring the fact that two minutes were left on the clock. You went straight to work the moment his attention was diverted and his leg was no longer shaking.

Swiftly, you grasped the leg of his pants and pulled it up, revealing the leather that was sunk in his flesh. You winced, “His leg circulation is bad.”

“Just focus on the bomb,” She reassured you quietly.

You grabbed the equipment and started to work on disabling it. Each step was more difficult than the other. You felt yourself tremble as the end seemed to never come any closer to you no matter how much you reached for it. “Go.”

“What? We’re not leaving you.“ It was Severide who spoke, only a meter or two away from you. Shaking your head at another trap within the system you decided that you needed all the help you could get.

1 minute.

“Jay?” You murmured against the radio - Jay’s reply was instant.

“Y/N you can do this,” his voice was raspier through the line, more prominent and harsh. Nevertheless, his words soothed you.

“I need help,” you told him. “You said this man is crazy right? Well I think there’s a story here. These wires mean something. Blue, white, yellow.”

You weren’t allowed to go for it... not when so many lives were at risk. This man was smart, that much you knew. There has to be a meaning behind the colors.

Jay could help you more than anyone. You knew it. He knew it too.

Blue, white, yellow.

***

“Blue, white, yellow.” He mumbled, not allowing himself to look at his watch. You didn’t have much time, he knew it - Jay just didn’t want a definite reminder of it.

He rocked his brain for explanations. For a clue within this case. Something.

30 seconds.

“Everyone evacuate now!” Boden shouted into his radio. Jay shut it out. His voice didn’t matter. Only you did.

Like an eagle, he searched for you and found you: crouched in front of the yellow capped boy, acting like his anchor he could hold onto. He couldn’t see how shaky you were from afar, he could only hope you were okay.

10 seconds.

“Jay!”

Yellow.

“This kid was his last target. He looks for the details,“ He explained to you. “Yellow.”

***

Like his beanie. You casted a stray glance at the boy, flashing him a tight lipped smile. The puffy beanie that was supposed to protect him from the cold just became the thing that saved his life. And the poor boy didn’t even know it.

3...

This is it.

2...

You didn’t think, only did what Jay told you. You cut through the yellow wire and stop the ticking destruction at the last second.

No sound is heard.

No man moves.

Only rigid breathing of your own manages to make its way inside your ears.

And then the boy starts to wail. His cries turn into what look like never ending sobs. You were glad he’s crying, and not in a bad way. The sound he started to make was a clear indicator of your survival. The bomb didn’t go off. You were safe. You never felt more alive.

Your friends swiped you in their arms immidiately. Every firefighter gave you a congratulation you never thought you would recieve. You just disabeled a bomb.

And it looked like you were the only one shocked.

Still shaking, your eyes searched for the man that helped you.

But Jay was already there, and by the time you turned around to search for him he had his fingertips around you. With a clean tug he pushed you against his chest and hugged you. His breathing was just as harsh as your own, but inside - he never felt prouder.

“You had my back,” you mumbled. Jay pulled a moment later, his blue eyes gazing down at you before he laughed. Laughed. “You were amazing baby.”

“You really think so?”

“I do. Now let’s get you out of here.” He smiled, slipping his hand into yours and pulling you towards the exit. You were cheered after of course, it made your heart swell with pride.

On your way outside you saw the bomb squad, standing in lines next to their equipment. “Nice work guys.” Jay said sarcastically.

The two of you made your way to the shaky boy to make sure he was alright. People were gathered outisde, now that the threat was removed. Each and every one of them had their eyes glazed with tears of relief.

Their homes were safe. Their families were too.

Boden gave you the rest of the day off, and Jay was the one to drive you home.

“Let’s hope our work doesn’t clash like that ever again.”

“I agree,” Jay said quietly and pressed his lips safely against yours.

MASTERLIST

###

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I’m reading a book on Tapas and I don’t have enough ink to unlock episodes :(( I’ve already assigned all of my friends and family to take the code and now I need YOUR help! Pretty please?

...with a cherry on top?

Download the app and sign in. Once you see the option to give yourself a display name, under that you’ll see the option to enter in a code, and that’s where you enter BARB048X. Not only will you get 200 ink if you decide to continue reading, you’ll help out this charity that is ME.

THANK YOU.

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead x reader #Chicago PD #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #CHICAGO FIRE #chiacgo fire imagine #chicago fire fanfictio #reader oneshot

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yamagucji · 3 years

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Kuroo comforting you

request. hii! this is sort of an emergency request. I believe your reqs are open... im being really lonely and fighting with my parents and friends a lot, so could you make a Kuroo comforting his lonely girl / s/o ? Tysm in advance 🥺 -ghosty anon 👻❤️

pairing. kuroo x gn!reader

note. yes, emergency requests are open :) take care ok?💞 ps sorry this was so late had to crank it between midterms gkfjd

kuroo’s approach to giving comfort comes with maturity and he really thinks about how to best handle the situation

if you’re not the type to talk about whats bothering you, he’ll give his support in subtle ways— but only after his suspicions have been confirmed

“how’s your family been?”

“i don’t know”

“have you been talking with your friends lately?”

“hm..”

yeah, there’s something wrong but he won’t push any further

in fact, kuroo will propose anything in hopes to get make you feel better, and to get your mind out of the gutter

if it’s sunny outside he’ll take you to a walk around the park, maybe stop by the convinience store to get you some of your favorite snacks, or bring you to a pond/lake

“um...tetsu, why are we here?”

“i just wanted to say hi to the ducks,” he responds with a smile, sending a squeeze to your intertwined hands but still keeping his gaze on the floating birds

“...and make you smile, even just for a little bit.”

he’ll do all these silly things while you two are out on your walk and it makes you confused the first few times, until you finally realize what his intentions were

“ah,” you exclaim, pointing at a pink flower growing between the cracks, “look! it’s pretty.”

he’ll pick it up and tuck the flower behind your ear

he shouldn’t but yk

“yeah, pretty like you.” 🥺🤲

once your little walk is over he’ll offer for you to stay in his house for a little bit, because he suspects you probably don’t want to be around your family atm

he won’t even get you settled, just straightup lead you to his bedroom so the two of you can cuddle

will bring his arms around you and drop both your bodies onto the bed

“hmm, y/n... let’s stay like this for a little bit,”

it’s a peaceful quiet for a while, just kuroo snuggling up closer to you and inhaling your familiar scent. he’s really just taking the time to get you comfy and also thinking of how he can initiate a conversation about what’s bothering you

“kitten?”

“hm?” you hum suftly aganst his warmth

“you know im here for you right? im here to listen about anything that’s bothering you. i care so much about you....”

he lifts his head off the pillow to face you properly. “i hope you know that.”

it’s taking everything in his strength not to just confront it like that because he’s worried you’ll avoid it again. he knows vulnerability is hard, and he’s got all the time to wait for you to open up

and when you do, wrapping your arms around his torso and finally telling him about your problems, a certain weight is lifted off of his shoulders

he’d let you just talk it out and vent to him that whole night, making sure to rub your back and soothe you

if you cry as you vent, he’ll definitely brush his hands on your cheeks to wipe the tears away, and right after he does that he always places a kiss

it’s just... a little added comfort yk?

“there there,” he mumbles against your forehead. “it’ll work out okay? it just needs some time to cool down. and i’ll be here for you every step of the way,”

“okay?”

“okay” 🥺

the two of you would cuddle for the rest of the night with LOTS of pampering from kuroo :’)

he’d make sure you’re warm and comfortable, and if you want, he would definitely talk with you about your problem or about anything at all

taglist. @lespaghetti @zephyrria @bunnyuuji @grumpykageyama @beanst0ck @sachirou-senpai @it-me-trash-blog @seijoh-loving-hours @tadashi-simp @nerdybreadcollaborative @bonkyandloki @ahkaahshi @atsumuwoah @softkick @nishinoya-is-baby @globehoppingthings @hikari-writes @otsut-writing @haikyuu-simps-assemble @nikki--han @wissaaltje @tadashi-simp

please send an ask to be added to my taglist!

#kuroo x reader #kuroo headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo tetsurō

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kyber-crystal · 3 years

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fluff alphabet || poe dameron

a/n: for @jangohshit!! sorry this was so late—i thought it was queued already but oh welp ,.,.,., thank u for being literally one of the best mutuals anyone could ever ask for <3 also leia is peak mom material in this friendly warning :) angst to fluff thrown in, as well

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

we all know he’s the most affectionate person ever despite his seemingly intimidating persona—he loves giving you forehead kisses, back hugs, and picking you up and spinning you around when he gets the chance.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

the friendship started because leia had introduced you to him. you ended up clicking right away and spent nearly every waking moment you had together to the point that the entire black squadron would joke about how you and poe shared one functional braincell (i mean, they weren’t entirely wrong). he’s very overprotective—one time you tripped and fell off a ladder while helping rey fix something and he was freaking out about it more than you were. and you were completely fine, asides from a few scratches. again, the squadron loves teasing him about his ‘mama bear’ persona that he develops when he’s around you

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

YES. poe absolutely loves cuddling. he’ll take any chance he gets to hug you—whether that’s hugging you from behind during meetings, running into your arms when reuniting after a mission, or wrapping his arms around you as you relaxed with him and the others by the campfire several nights. you rarely ever slept alone, it was always you sleeping together in yours or his room, and jessika or finn would have to run in and wake you up several times in a row because you got too comfortable and nearly overslept. in short, you and him are attached at the hip

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

it was a mutual agreement between you two that you’d settle down and get married once the war was finally over. you hadn’t had many opportunities to actually sit and talk about it so the conversation was often brought up late at night when nobody else was awake.

poe isn’t the greatest ever at being tidy, but he isn’t bad at cleaning up stuff when he needs to—and any messiness is made up for with his beyond amazing cooking skills. he’s constantly pressured week after week to cook for everyone because the first time he’d made something it was love at first taste. now he’s dubbed the ultimate pilot and sous chef of the resistance

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

if you had to break it off with each other, it would be because of the war. getting into a relationship while trying to fight for your lives could put you into a compromising position and poe hated knowing that he could lose you at any point. this ultimately led to a huge argument—coincidentally, right before you left for an eight week-long mission. there were many tears involved.

you wouldn’t get together right after you claimed victory, but instead, took time building your relationship back up again before finally doing so. there were no real hard feelings involved—it was just a matter of reconstruction :3

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

once poe is committed to something, he’s committed—he’s in it for the long run. of course, he wants to make sure you’re comfortable first before anything else—and in terms of marriage, he’ll probably wait about a year or two. nothing too fancy.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

even though poe knows that you’re one hell of a fighter and can take practically anything that’s thrown at you, he’s very very gentle with you—same goes emotionally. he knows you’ve also been through a lot and makes sure to constantly remind you that you’re not alone and that if you ever needed someone to turn to, he’d always be here.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

alright, this man NEVER misses an opportunity to hug you. hugs from behind, picking you up and spinning you around until both of you got dizzy, surprising you and then hugging you, holding you in his arms to help you fall asleep after a nightmare, you name it. you joke around about how you don’t need therapy when you have his arms within reach :)

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

he says it first. you recalled it being after you returned from a quick little recon with a few other pilots and ran straight into his arms (as always, because mans loves getting hugs from you yk).

“I love you.”

“I know,” you responded.

“I taught her that!” -han, shouting as he approached. “You really didn’t think to say hi to me first?”

“Dad.”

poe only laughs and kisses you again.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

ooooof so when poe’s jealous, he doesn’t like to show it but you can tell when he is. it’ll be little death stares from across the room or tightening his arm around your waist, even if it’s another squadron member jokingly flirting with you

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

poe’s kisses are either very gentle or very passionate—it depends. he likes kissing you on the lips but he loves forehead kisses the most. it gives him a sense of protection over you and he loves knowing you’re his special person :3

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

the kids absolutely LOVE him. you always get this warm & fuzzy feeling inside whenever you see him interacting with the younger ones on base; sometimes he’ll catch you staring and just winks at you in response (this little shit KNOWS how he makes you feel and loves it)

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

it’s pretty relaxed most of the time (that is, if it’s the weekend or you’re on break) and poe likes to stay in and cuddle for a little bit before you actually get out of bed. if not, both of you are up at the crack of dawn LOL. you often start off the day with a relaxing morning walk around the base before settling down to eat :)

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

on nights that neither of you can fall asleep, you’ll go outside and stargaze. it’s a very soothing habit you’ve learned to develop and 9/10 times it has one of you (it’s usually you) nearly knocked out cold after just an hour or two. (poe also sees this as an excuse to carry you back inside in his arms)

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

poe’s naturally a very open person but there are some things he prefers to keep to himself. but once he fully trusts you he tells you everything—though this takes maybe a couple months or so.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

both of you are aware he’s the more impatient of the pair, although when it comes to you he doesn’t mind waiting. when putting that aside, his patience runs a little bit more thin.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

alright mans knows you like the back of his hand. literally. like. the back. of your hand. everyone on base knows it, too—he remembers the smallest of things about you that even you don’t remember sometimes. this was the biggest giveaway for him that told everyone he was most certainly in love with you. you can guess who hosted your surprise birthday that one night after exegol : ‘)

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

your first kiss—not just because it was a first, but because of how it happened. it started pouring heavily as soon as you returned from a mission and everyone ended staying outside and having a giant water fight. while high on adrenaline, you jumped straight into his arms and before either of you had the chance to think, his lips were on yours and you were kissing underneath the stormy sky. everyone stopped what they were doing halfway and noticed, lowkey it looked like some scene from the notebook (arguably more romantic)

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

even though the two of you claim to share one braincell, poe is very very protective over you no matter how much you protest and claim you were capable of taking care of yourself. usually he’s the one who’s more freaked out about any injuries you get. other than you understood that you had to look out for each other and stick by each other no matter the cost—a promise you two intended to keep for as long as you possibly could.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

a lot. he’s very, very extra. very. han pokes fun at him sometimes for it but he too, was initially like that with leia so he can’t really argue—so instead, whenever poe’s in need of help with planning stuff he’s off to the rescue : ‘) fam rlly went from “no, you are NOT dating my daughter” to “why haven’t you guys gotten married yet?” one time for your birthday, with the help of your parents and the entire black squadron, he put on an entire air show for you complete with firework displays, and needless to say you were head over heels that night.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

he doesn’t sleep. poe has a very fucked up sleep schedule and often counts on you to remind him to get some rest—you found him working on his x wing one night and he told you he hadn’t slept in the past thirty-six hours—after which you scolded him and dragged him to bed. he ended up dozing off until noon 0_0

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

he’s not very concerned. though when he notices you staring or whenever you compliment him about his looks it does boost his ego :)

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

oh definitely. so much to the point that it has also become a joke among fellow rebels, even your parents (leia often tells you that she’s worried he won’t function properly unless you’re around and tbh she isn’t wrong lol). you’re his soulmate and other half whom he wouldn’t trade for the world

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

poe has the best taste in music. straight up. nobody argues nor complains when he’s in charge of music for the day, they’re always satisfied with whatever tunes he’s playing throughout the base and it puts everyone into a good mood

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

lack of respect. being inconsiderate. coldhearted. you’re thankfully none of these and for that very reason he’d chosen you—you’re everything he could ever ask for in a person

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

poe doesn’t snore, but he has a SOLID iron grip when fast asleep. “best friends always sleep in each other’s beds!” he’d claim as he crawled in next to you many nights and fell asleep hugging you very tightly. everyone knew it was again, an excuse to get closer to you. but you didn’t mind : ‘)

#listen i don't expect this to do well but i wanted to put some writing up on my blog bc i haven't done so in a whiiiiile #poe dameron x reader #star wars #poe dameron #star wars imagine #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fluff #star wars fic #my writing #poe dameron one shot #star wars one shot #this was...cringey i'm so genuinely sorry RIP

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