#i was frustrated the other day and drawing this made me happy c:

[pink-pone]

mwah 💕

#i was frustrated the other day and drawing this made me happy c: #jamie dodger #heather #gingerverse #mlp #my little pony #mlpfim #my art #my little pony friendship is magic #mlp:fim #oc #my oc #mlp oc #ginger bread family #lineless art #art #digital art

[kawaiithinglover]

Chapter two

Tw: mention of killing someone, naked body (drawing by Xavier) smut, and horny Xavier

Tw: dirty talk, fingering, blind fold, overstimulation, slapping, degradation?, and mention on slut, whore, and cumdump

Pronouns are she/her

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

It was morning time and you weren't looking forward to it. You keep on thinking about Enid said about her 'crush' on Xavier. "I don't like him....I don't like him..." Y/n kept saying in her head not knowing Wednesday was reading her mind. "Now Y/n is going to be like mother and father" Wednesday whispered to herself. They all get up and go to their classes.

It was now lunch time and Y/n, Wednesday, Enid, Ajax, and Xavier were sitting together. "So...Enid....Will you come to the ReveN with me?" Ajax asked as Enid nodded with a big smile. "Finally she was getting in my nerves about you asking her to the dance" Y/n said as Wednesday nodded in agreement. Xavier was too busy looking at Y/n wondering what she would look like in a wedding dress instead.

"So....You and Tyler" Ajax said looking at Wednesday. "Me and Tyler what?" Wednesday asked. "You guys going to the RaveN with each other I heard" Ajax said while Enid gasp. "How did I not know about this!" Enid asked looking at Wednesday. "He asked me during one of my classes he gave me a note, I accepted and that's it" Wednesday said while Y/n gave her a look.

"Y/n did you know?" Enid asked as Y/n shook her head no. "Was you planning on telling me?" Y/n said looking at Wednesday. "I would if I wanted to buy I didn't say anything. So I wasn't planning on telling you." Wednesday said. Y/n just looked at her sister with a glare if Tyler was at the same table as Y/n she could kill him.

"I know what you're thinking Y/n don't try to kill Tyler" Wednesday said as Y/n just rolled her eyes. "Okay it's almost time to go back to our dorms" Enid said looking at the time. "I'm going back now goodbye." Y/n said as she left. "I'm going too bye guys!" Xavier said as he left. "That's suspicious..... That's weird...." Enid said.

Y/n made it to her dorm that was shared with her sister Wednesday and her 'friend' Enid. Xavier made it back to his but more horny. He made a drawing of Y/n naked body and made it come to life. He then took his c*ck out and started pumping it.

But with Y/n she was sadly talking to Enid about Ajax asking her out. "Like he asked me to the RaveN right in front of y'all! I was surprised that you and Wednesday weren't gagging about that." Enid said to you. "We didn't gag because we weren't even listening to you in the first place" Y/n said. "Oh..." Enid said looking down sad but not letting it show.

"Anyways it's now two more days before that RaveN!" Enid said excited. "Yeah it is" Y/n said rolling her eyes. "Why do you hate the RaveN so much?" Enid asked Y/n. "Because it's just a dance and everyone is so excited about it. Second why does it have to be dancing. And third I'd rather leave then dance" Y/n said as Enid just nods.

"Plus it's just some silly dance that's all" Y/n then said again. "Oh come on! Be a little happy that Xavier is taking you!" Enid said with a smile but Y/n turned at her giving her a death stare. "First I don't like happiness, second I will never be happy, and third I don't care about who is taking me because I didn't want to go" Y/n said.

"Oh come on Y/n! You like Xavier and Xavier likes you! It's not hard to notice that. Even Bianca noticed, not just her everybody notice!" Enid said spilling the tea. "Well they are all wrong Enid" Y/n said. "Oh really?" Enid asked smirking. "Yes! I don't like him!" Y/n yelled getting frustrated. "Okay, okay, calm down" Enid said as Y/n calm down.

"Can you leave me alone about Xavier Enid? Because it's getting on my nerves and you're making me wanna kill you" Y/n said giving Enid a death glare. "Oh! Sure I'll stop" Enid said nervously. As soon as Y/n was about to say something else a knock was heard. Like always Y/n go answer the door and again it Xavier.

"I need to talk to you Y/n" Xavier said as Y/n again just nodded. Xavier then took Y/n to his dorm which Ajax isn't there because Xavier asked him to stay somewhere else for the night. "What do you need?" Y/n asked Xavier as they walked in his dorm and he locked the doors and stuff. Xavier then pushes Y/n on the bed and stands over her.

"Xavier what are you doing?" Y/n asked as he blind folded her. "Something that I always wanted to do" Xavier said as he took off her night clothes. He then saw how wet her pussy was and put a finger in. "ahhh~" Y/n moaned out as Xavier smirk. "Look at you so wet my finger went in easily." Xavier said as he started thrusting his finger in Y/n pussy.

He started to go faster and faster in Y/n pussy as she felt something in her stomach. "O-oh...... I--I--can't..... I--I-- feel something" Y/n said. Xavier just smirk and went faster as Y/n head hit the pillow and cum spilled from her pussy. "It felt good...." Y/n said as Xavier stopped moving his finger after she got done cumming.

Xavier then licks his finger that had Y/n cum on his finger. "You're so wet my cock and just go straight into you with no pain" Xavier said as he slid his cock into Y/n pussy. "Ahhh~!" Y/n moan feeling Xavier cock deep inside of her. Xavier started moving fast and taking Y/n blind fold off. "Yeah you like that slut? You like it fast whore?" Xavier asked while Y/n nodded yes not able to form words.

"Awe I'm fucking you so hard you can't form words huh?" Xavier asked as he went even faster. "Y-yes...." Y/n moans out feeling a tight knot in her stomach. "Yeah have to cum....You gotta cum huh slut?" Xavier asked as Y/n nodded. "Well you're not going to cum until I say so" Xavier said going harder in Y/n pussy. "O-oh pl-pl-ease! Let me cum!" Y/n said as she has to cum so badly.

"No you cum when I tell you to cum and that's not going to happen anytime soon. Your my cumdump and I will cum in you whenever I want" Xavier said back as Y/n kept babbling about wanting to cum.

It's been about 3 hours and Xavier still didn't let Y/n cum at all. Y/n is now in tears and looking like she got fucked so dumb. But with Wednesday and Enid in their mind they are wondering about what Y/n is doing with Xavier. "If he hurts my sister I will kill him" Wednesday throught.

After some while Xavier let Y/n cum as her eyes rolled back, back aching, and toe curdling orgasm. Even after that Y/n was able to make it back to the dorm without no one knowing, nobody seeing her, and not even waking up Enid and Wednesday. Y/n for the first time smiled to herself as she got back in her bed.

"That was the best...." Y/n thought as she finally went to sleep. But with Xavier he couldn't sleep because he was thinking about how vulnerable Y/n was when he was fucking her for like 3-4 hours straight.

I wanna give credit to Saraheartsxavier!From telling me how to do stuff on Tumblr like adding tags for people to read your blog and other good, and important stuff. So I wanna give a big thank you to her!

You can repost and use my stuff but ask me first before you do that. (You can only if I get the credit for my work because I will just say yes anyways)

#xavier thorpe imagine #xavier x you #xavier thrope x reader #xavier x reader #xavier thorpe #addams reader #wednesday addams #xavier thrope #wednesdays addams #xavier thorpe smut

[fangurk]

Puppy Love (The Cullen Family x Child! Werewolf! Reader)

Key:

Y/n - Your Name

Y/h/c - Your Hair Color

Y/e/c - Your Eye Color

Y/f/c - Your Favorite Color

Y/f/f - Your Favorite Flavor

Prompt (given to me by @inrice): but could you do something along the lines of the cullens (mainly alice) takes upon the job of raising a werewolf!reader? who's a child of course.

Summary: Alice Cullen stumbles upon a very strange, very lonely child while out on a hunt and, in true Cullen fashion, decides to take them home. Nobody knows how to take care of a werewolf or a child, but when they put in a collective effort (and bring in the help of Bella) things start getting easier...

Warning: Is this kidnapping? It might be kidnapping, fluff, slightly angsty at some parts, AU because Caius is cruel, and potentially odd genderless terms of endearment.

A/n: family fic makes the brain go brrr. so like i didn't really know how to handle the whole werewolf thing because the twilight lore is so... bare... and i wanted to write more on the family parts so it's not like a real focus but it is mentioned quite a bit. I hope that's okay! /gen

Word Count: 1.2k+

Alice wasn’t able to foresee you.

She simply stumbled across you one day on a hunt, your tiny body curled up at the base of a tree. You smelled so much of dog she almost mistook you for one, and then you looked up at her with big y/e/c eyes and she knew.

Carlisle wasn’t very happy when she brought you home.

“The Volturi will have a field day with this.” He says as he repacks his doctor bag. “The child is dangerous to have around.”

“But they're all alone, Carlisle. You said it yourself, they looked like they were out there for days— and I waited there with them until nightfall, no one came…”

Her shoulders fall and she looks at the door separating them from the rest of the family.

“Oh please just let them stay, we’ll all take care of them— if anything we’re better suited for it than anyone!”

Carlisle opens his mouth to protest but is interrupted by Esme opening the door, you asleep in her arms. All of his hesitance melts away at the sight, and at the sound of your small snores.

He sighs. “Fine, the child can stay— but we have to be careful.”

Alice nearly erupts with her joy, and Carlisle tries to hide a smile.

──────────────────

They give you a nice bedroom.

Rosalie, Alice, and Esme take an entire day to shop, nearly clearing out three children’s stores in the process. They build you furniture and they paint the walls a pretty shade of y/f/c; you now own more toys and clothes than a kid can possibly comprehend.

You spend the day with Emmett, the only Cullen boy who’s comfortable getting close to you, and he introduces you to the wide range of children’s cartoons. Your browsing ended with Crashbox, something that had the big man far more into it than you, but it was fun nonetheless.

“Want to see your room, Y/n?” Rosalie hums, poking her head around the corner and flashing you a dazzling smile.

The ladies let you wander around the new space, excitement brightening your features.

Emmett is still enraptured by the TV long after you’re put to bed.

──────────────────

Most days are good days.

Even if two of the family members seem a little afraid of you, you’re happy. You’re fed and clothed and loved.

But then there are bad days.

You wouldn’t eat. Nothing Esme made you was satisfactory and you were too upset and overwhelmed to let anyone know what you wanted; everyone tries to comfort you, even Jasper with his powers, but none of it really seems to work.

And then Edward comes home.

He left at some point during the crying and everyone figured that he was just bailing ship like he usually does when it comes to you. But, in reality, he somehow managed to get a cohesive reading of your mind and immediately went to someone who could help him.

“I brought Bella.” He says, gesturing awkwardly at his equally awkward girlfriend when five sets of frustrated eyes land on him.

“And I brought chicken nuggets…” The brunette human raises the bag up with a smile.

Everyone watches in confusion as you perk up a bit.

“Uh, here.” Bella crosses the room and places the bag down in front of you.

You open the bag and immediately start eating, sniffling but no longer upset. Every Cullen is reeling in shock.

“Well. What do you have to say to Bella?” Alice clears her throat, giving you an encouraging smile.

“Thank you, Bella.” You mumble, mouth full of food.

“Oh- it was actually Edward’s idea.”

You turn and thank him, beaming, and he gives you a crooked smile in return.

Afterward, Edward doesn’t really avoid you anymore.

──────────────────

‘Children of the Moon’ don’t pass their lycanthropy onto their offspring.

Alice doesn’t like to think about it, but sometimes the implication that someone bit and infected you consumes her mind and it makes her want to cry.

──────────────────

On the days they go to school, you do too.

They figure it’s good for you to spend time with other kids your age, and it seems to be. You always come home with crazy stories of playtime adventures and smelling of paint and crayons; the teachers love you, or more so the bright little woman who picks you up from school.

“Draw your family.” The teacher encourages one day.

You draw the Cullens.

When you proudly hand it to Alice when she picks you up from school, she lifts you up in a hug. Jasper frames your little drawing and puts it up next to all of their graduation caps.

──────────────────

The full moon is pretty horrific.

In order to keep everyone safe from your tiny claws, they keep you in the basement. For hours before the transformation, you just lie down there and wail-- you’re only little, it’s only fair.

Alice sits outside and talks to you the whole time, her voice wavering and her hands shaking.

She doesn’t move after the wails turn into howls, even if it would be safer to do so.

──────────────────

“Does Jasper hate me?”

You’re wrapped up in bandages, sitting on the picnic blanket with your adoptive mother and eating a sandwich too big for you as her husband pretends to do something down by the water. Alice is completely blindsided. They’ve sort of explained what they are to you, and you’ve kind of filled in blank spaces to the best of your ability, but she’s still unsure how to explain Jasper’s hesitance.

She doesn’t wind up having to.

“No,” He says, sitting down next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “I don’t. I’m actually quite fond of you darlin’.”

That alone seems to satisfy you and, over time, he loosens up a bit.

Jasper seems happier than he has in a while, listening to you talk about things little kids talk about, and Alice watches fondly with a smile.

──────────────────

One of them reads a story and tucks you into bed every night.

Most times it’s Alice, sometimes Jasper joins in.

Tonight is one of those nights. You’re clean and showered, dressed in a cute little pajama set, and nestled under the covers; she’s lying down next to you, Goodnight Moon open in her hands, and he’s in a chair next to the bed.

“... goodnight noises everywhere.” She finishes, smiling at your drooping eyes and lulling head.

Carefully, she unwinds herself from you and, with the help of her husband tucks the blanket under your sides. You tug your favorite stuffed animal close to your chest, y/e/c eyes closed, and a smile on your little face.

“Goodnight, y/n.” “Night, kid.” They each say, Alice bending down to kiss your head and Jasper opting to stand there and smile.

“G’night mom and dad.”

Jasper’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head and he turns to face his wife quickly.

Alice Cullen, the girl who forgot half of her life, never felt more whole than she did standing in your room, holding her mate’s hand, and turning off the light as the hushed sound of a cricket’s song filled the big house...

tag list:

@batmanunicorns523

#alice cullen x reader #jasper hale x reader #alice cullen imagine #jasper hale imagine #the cullens x reader #the cullens #twilight imagines #twilight saga #twilight #emmett cullen #rosalie hale #edward cullen #bella swan #carlisle cullen #esme cullen

[primofate]

Genshin Modern AU - Stress and Comfort

Summary: Woke up late. Missed a class. Forgot that assignment due. Another one due in two days. People are downplaying the things that you do. It’s raining and you don’t have an umbrella. Sometimes the little things pile up all in one day and it feels like all you want to do is to get it over with... and your boyfriend to make everything better.

Warnings: crying, stress, mood swings, other than that it’s fluff

Characters: Kaeya, Zhongli x gn!reader

Notes: Also a commission <3 Thank you for the love. Once again if you want something written for you I have cheap rates XD and I’ll always accommodate to your wants! Just leave me a message!

Kaeya

“Hey, Y/N, do you know how to write this part of the essay?” It wasn’t as if you were a particularly good student. But somehow, the people in your class liked asking you because you were accommodating. Ready to help with a smile on your face. Always there to turn to and rely on. “Yeah, it’s just like this…” and you spend nearly an hour explaining it.

“Oh gosh, I don’t think I can finish this part of the presentation tonight, something came up at home,” Group projects were sometimes difficult too. You understood. Things happened, but when they happened, you’d be the first one to say, “It’s okay, I’ll take care of it,” Even though the presentation is tomorrow, even though you barely get enough sleep for the next day. A part of you just wants to quickly get it over with.

“You said this would come out on the test… It wasn’t even there…” The worst part of it is not even receiving any thanks. It’s the way that they look at you when you make a mistake, despite all of the good things you’ve done for them, one mistake, and they make you out and guilt you to be a bad person.

“Your analysis is all wrong, Y/N. This part over here…” Sometimes the price of that was paying with your own grade. You try to listen as the lecturer explains a part of your essay. You’re listening, but it just doesn’t register in your mind. Something about misunderstanding the concept. Those concepts that you’ve tried so hard to remember and to understand. In the end they were all mixed up and confused.

Perhaps the lecturer sees the deflated look in your eyes, and ends quite happily. “Just do better in the next one!” pats your back and lets you leave, handing you your essay graded with a C.

Do better in the next one. Easier said than done.

You shove the paper in your bag without giving it a second glance.

The cafeteria. It was slightly late for lunch but you like it that way. There weren’t a lot of people at this time, which meant you didn’t have to fight for seats. Still, as you put in your order and bring your tray of food to the nearest seat that you see, you somehow bump into someone who topples over your chosen lunch, the tray completely doing a flip and landing on your chest, then on the ground with a plop and rattle.

There’s an ugly stain on your shirt. Forget about hiding it, it had to be washed. “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” and yet they can only stare at the stain. What else could they do? Dabbing it with wet tissue would just make it worse. “It’s…fine,” you wave them away, but you leave the mess on the floor in a hurry and in an embarrassed state.

You sigh once outside again. Deciding that today was enough, you make your way home.

Even then, as you sit at your study table, all washed up and changed, sketching a little something on your tablet, your mother stands at the door, observing.

“…What does that do for you?”

You jump a little in surprise and turn, looking at her blank expression. “What does what do for me?”

“That, your drawing. You’re always on the computer or tablet Y/N. If not that, then your sketchbook. That’s all you ever do,”

You turn around because you don’t want to argue. You don’t want to hear her complaining about how you do nothing but stay in all day after lessons and play games and draw. It was one of the biggest forms of comfort you had for yourself and yet she--

“Maybe try a part time job or join a club or some—”

“Mom, I’m still trying to adjust to uni,”

Why does no one understand how difficult it is to juggle the classes and do all the readings required? Why do I have to do so many things all at the same time? Can’t I do it when I choose to and when I’m ready? Can’t I do things that I enjoy?

“The degree you chose won’t even pay the bills…” You hear her mutter as she walks away. Footsteps receding into the hallways.

You push your tablet away and lay your head face down on the table. You’re trying not to lose it and finally, whatever higher being up there hears your plea to give you a break.

A phone call from Kaeya comes through.

“…Hey,” you answer.

“Hey, hun. You haven’t been replying to my messages,” there’s a lilt of playfulness in his voice. He just thinks you’ve fallen asleep or taken a nap at home or something.

“…Yeah, I—” You try to explain. You try to say that you weren’t feeling well. That you didn’t feel like talking. But would he understand? Everyone today seemed to be against you. “I just, fell asleep,” You lie and there’s a few seconds of silence on the other side.

“…You sure?” Now there’s a hint of unease in his voice. The playfulness is gone. “You ok? Do you want me to come over?” Somehow he senses that it isn’t just “falling asleep”. His simple worry and caring attitude towards you breaks whatever composure you had left. You accidentally let out a sniffle as tears start to pool in your eyes.

“Hey… You don’t have to talk to me, but I’ll come over right now, okay?” The sniffle was enough to tell him that perhaps something had went wrong. You couldn’t help but let out a few more sniffles as tears slowly trickles down your face.

“O-okay,”

Minutes later your blue-haired boyfriend shows up at your doorstep. Despite your mom being a little hard on you earlier, when she opens the door to see him, she smiles and says. “I think they were having a bad day, I might have been a little harsh on them too,” Kaeya only grins and points a thumb to his chest. ��No problem, that’s what I’m here for,” He’s still wearing his volleyball jersey.

He knocks softly on the door, “Y/N?” there’s a plastic bag in his other hand.

When you open the door your eyes were already a little red around the edges, but seeing him made your lips tremble and fresh tears fall out. “Shh… You’re okay.” He wraps you in his arms, plastic bag rustling, his hand smooths your hair down and the other rubs your back as you cry out your frustrations for the day.

The two of you stay there for what seems like a long time. You hiccupping into his chest and trying to calm down. At some point he moves the both of you on the bed and lets you curl up against him. When you finally ease up, he pulls away slightly to look at your face, then brushes away the wetness still lingering on your cheeks. “Feel better?” He whispers, as if being too loud will break you again.

You smile a little and nod at how gentle he was being. He smiles back and leans in to press a kiss on your forehead. “You’re doing great, Y/N. Whatever it is, just talk to me when you’re ready,” and it hits you so hard how much he’s willing to just be there with you, even though he doesn’t know what’s happening. How he wasn’t going to judge you for what you say or what you do and your face crumples and grimaces into a face that tells him you’re trying not to cry. “D-Did I say something wrong?” He’s a little startled, but you laugh a little through small droplets of tears that you wipe away by yourself. “No, you idiot. I’m just happy you’re here,”

He sighs and relaxes, taking his own hand and pinching your cheek, pulling at it a little. “Who’s the idiot? Crying and laughing at the same time?” He was joking, of course. He’d only do so when he knew you could take it. You swat his hand away with a slight glare, and he knows that he’s got a little bit of the normal you back. “Alright, come on, here,” He suddenly sits up and presents the plastic bag that he’s been holding all that time.

“Ice-cream, your favourite flavour,” rummages into it and takes out a tub the size of two fists, a little damp from the melted moisture. He’s got spoons in there too. Slowly, as you eat the tub together, you tell him about what’s been going on in uni. How people just expected you to help when you could. How you got nothing in return. How you try really hard and they somehow still end up piling on negativity into your life.

“…It’s okay to help, Y/N,” he thoughtfully says, mouth muffled cause his spoon was still in his mouth. “But don’t forget to take care of yourself too,” then he scoops another bite. “…But even if you don’t…it’s okay,” he looks up at the ceiling. “If you don’t take care of yourself…Then I’ll do it. That’ll be my job. Forever,”

You lay your head on his shoulder as he says this, still eating from your spoon “I love you,”. He smiles and presses a soft kiss atop your head. “Love you too. I’m always just a phone call away, babe,”

Zhongli

“Is there something on your mind? You’ve been quiet for the past hour,” Nothing slips by Zhongli. He’s observant. He knows you don’t feel like eating by the way you’re picking at your food. Knows that you don’t want to talk because you don’t even meet his eyes.

“…Nothing, really,” You just didn’t have the energy to talk about it.

He feels as if this date has gone awry, and he didn’t even know where he went wrong. Though, if he had to guess, it wasn’t his fault. You were just in a particularly bad mood. Not that the two of you were anywhere fancy, it was just your usual sit-down restaurant at a mall across the university.

To him, the right thing to do was give you the space you needed. So, after walking you to your room that night, he’d wait till the morning to contact you. Imagine his surprise when none of his calls go through. None of his texts were returned. He was beside himself with worry when suddenly, near the afternoon, he finally gets word from you.

“Sorry Li, I feel a little sick today. Don’t worry though, I’ll be fine in no time,”

You’re bad at lying. Or was he just good at reading you? You tend to have the habit of withdrawing when you’re out of energy. To give too much without any regards to your own state, your own feelings. Sometimes you don’t realize that you had to watch over yourself too.

It’s nearly 8 at night when he knocks at your dorm room. Zhongli went through a few steps to make sure your roommate would be out tonight. It was from them that he found out you hadn’t left the room at all today, but that you weren’t sick.

“Oh… Zhongli,” You’re surprised at the amount of things he’s holding. There’s a plastic bag that seems to nearly be popping and in his other hand was a mysterious paper bag. Under his arm he’s tucked his laptop with him. He lived in the dorms too, and if someone saw him now, it would look as if he was moving into your room. “You could’ve just asked me to come over to yours,” his eyes trail away, a certain brown-headed roommate pops up in his mind.

“No, Tartaglia’s in tonight,” You make a sound of understanding. His roommate was rather…special. Too energetic for your tastes, and sometimes nosy. “What do you have there?” You ask and invite him in. He chucks the plastic bag on your bed, lays down the laptop on your table along with the mystery paper bag. He notes that you’re already in your sleepwear, which was perfect. He starts to take out a throw blanket from the plastic bag and a hoodie.

“…This..is?” You’re a little baffled by what he’s trying to convey. “…My throw blanket that you like so much…and you said you like wearing my hoodie,” then he points at the laptop. “Do you want to watch a movie in bed? I have popcorn too,”

Then you realize that he’s trying to make you feel better. He’s figured out that you weren’t really sick, possibly just mentally drained. You smile at him and lean in for a hug, to which he responds to by wrapping his arms around your back and whispering. “…I’m not…really good at these things… Tartaglia said it might make you feel better…” You chuckle in his embrace and could imagine the kind of conversation they had.

“You’re the best Zhongli,” he secretly smiles while rubbing your back up and down. He doesn’t ask questions as to why you’ve been acting the way you do, but you’re the one who offers him the answer. “It’s just school… Too many things have been piling up… My class they… They’re really nice people you know? But just… there are times where I wish they would stop asking me for help, but it feels so selfish of me… I have my own things too, but they never think about that…”

It’s always about them, you want to say, but keep your mouth shut. He runs his hand through your hair gently, internalizing the things that you’ve said. “…I see… Would you like to hear what I think?” He’d ask first, because he knew sometimes that you didn’t really want an answer. You just wanted to be listened to. You nod against his chest, you could feel his heart beating from the closeness. “I think, you’re a very selfless person, Y/N,” he places a kiss on your head. “There’s nothing wrong in wanting to take a break from time to time, you deserve it,” and he guides you over to your bed, wrapping the two of you up in his throw blanket. Laptop on, popcorn in the mystery paper bag as you put his hoodie on. It smells just like him.

His back leans against the wall and you’re in the safety of his arms. You’re practically in his lap, encased in his scent and warmth. He’d managed to prop his laptop up on a pile of books and the two of you watch a random movie on the screen. You were paying attention to it, but you couldn’t help but be more interested in the way his chest rises and falls. You can feel him against you, and the comfort it brings is like no other.

You turn away from the screen and rest your head at the nape of his neck. He looks down, movie still playing and asks “Tired?” You shake your head, eyes closed. “No, I’m just enjoying this…” There’s a small rumble from his chest as he lets out a small “Mm,” his eyes are glued to your face. Movie forgotten.

“…Y/N, I’ll always… be next to you,” Your eyes flutter open a little to look up at him, curious. “…Always?” He nods his head firmly to confirm, and you lean up a little to press a sweet and quick kiss on his lips. “Even when I’m not my best and I’m moody?” He chuckles at that and responds with a remark that might have slightly brought tears to your eyes.

“Especially when you’re not at your best, I’ll be there. Just call,”

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#genshin impact #genshin fluff #zhongli x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli fluff #kaeya fluff

[moonvyx]

Special One Out - Peter Parker (Any)

(Idea from YT and a fanfic)

Warnings: Angst, death and unfair parents .

Y/N's parent's never liked her, there were so many unnecessary reasons why they disliked her. One of the reasons were that she had beautiful h/c hair, while they were brunettes. (If you're a brunette, you can pick a diff hair colour.)

At a very young age of 5, her little sister, Celia was born. (You can use your second name or another name if your name is Celia.)

Y/N craved the attention her parents gave Celia.

She tried to impress them with her daily drawings from school, she tried to impress them by knowing how to spell Czechoslovakia, (I had a hard time spelling this!) but they were unimpressed with everything she did, instead they were impressed with the blabs and whines of Celia.

When Y/N was in her first day of grade 1, her parents didn't say goodbye, not even a good luck kiss on the check.

She felt nervous, no one was there to assure her that it was all gonna be okay.

No one but Peter Parker.

The two met on the playground during lunchtime.

Y/N was sitting on one of the swings, watching all the kids eat and laugh together.

"Hello." A friendly voice greeted, Y/N turned her head to the person who owned the voice.

"Hi," She replied with a smile. "I'm Peter, Peter Parker." The sandy haired boy introduced. "Y/N L/N." The h/c girl replied back.

"May I sit here?" Peter asked, she nodded. "So how's your first day?" He questioned her again.

"Uneventful. Mom and dad didn't even tell me to have a great day." Y/N said sadly. Peter's brows furrowed and his lips turned into a forwn.

"Why?" He asked, "Well they dislike me, for some reason. I never knew why. I didn't ask, I didn't want to be even more disliked." She replied with a frown on her face.

"Oh..Well, that's terrible." Peter stated, looking at the girl. "Yeah, but it's fine. Happens all the time." She said.

"No, you deserve better." Peter said and hugged the girl. "A hug to brighten your day." He breathed. Y/N smiled and laughed, and hugged Peter back.

"I can tell this is a start of a beautiful friendship, Y/N." Peter smiled. "I'm sure it is." She replied with a smile.

Years passed, everything stayed the same.

Y/N's parents still adored Celia, she and Peter still stuck together and formed a beautiful friendship.

But things began to down downhill when a specific blonde began dating Peter.

Gwen Stacy.

Who wouldn't like her? She's pretty, smart, kind, thoughtful, she could he every man's dream girl.

Even Peter's.

And here you are, holding the rails of your balcony as your tears tell down like the Niagara falls.

All because he ditched you just to hang out with Gwen.

"I'm supposed to he used to this, he always ditches me for Gwen." You said, wiping the tears before going back inside your so called home.

"Y/N, I want you to go to the store and get Celia some ice cream, Cookies and Cream. Don't mess it up." Your father commanded strictly. You nodded softly before heading out.

The night was cold, very cold. You mentally thanked yourself for always wearing a hoodie.

As soon as you arrived at the store, you couldn't help but feel like someone has been following you. You just hoped it was some guy who was also going to the store.

But oh how wrong you were.

"That'll be $5," the old lady said. You nodded and hamd dnher your $5 before leaving the store with the plastic bag full of ice cream.

"Thanks miss, have a lovely night." You smiled at her as she also smiled back before leaving.

During your journey on your way home, the same feeling that someone was following you came back.

Scared, you started to walk faster and began to walk in streets where there were a lot of people to scare the man away, if possible.

But sadly the random street walking ended up at an alley with a dead end. You stopped right in your tracks as the man stood behind you, you could feel that he was smirking in success.

"What do you want from me? Leave me alone." You told the creepy man, but all he did was stand there with a creepy look on his face.

He continued to not say anything, but when the one and only Spiderman jumped down from a building, the creepy man immediately grabbed your arm and ran away with you.

Oh but he wasn't alone, 2 other creepy men came out of nowhere and distracted Spiderman as the man who held you run away.

"Get off me!"You yelled at the man. "Let go off me!" He groaned and took out a handkerchief and sprayed it with some weird cologne and covered you mouth and nose with it, making you unconscious.

Before you could fully black-out, the man said "Now you'll shut up."

~

Y/N woke up with a banging headache. Groaning, she tried to move her arms but realised they were tied to a pole.

"Ah, I see that you're awake. Great timing, your spider boy is here." The same man who covered her mouth earlier said.

"What does this have to do with me?" She asked, attempting to untie the ropes. The man laughed darkly. "Oh you'll see. Just wait." He said before walking away.

~

A few minutes have passed, it honestly felt like hours for Y/N. She sighed before looking around.

At the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar Blue and Red Spandex walking around the building.

Relieved, she signaled the hero to come towards her direction. "Psst, Spider-Man!" She exclaimed, but only enough for him to hear.

It seems like his Spider senses heard her voice and alerted him. "Y/N," He said happily and walked to her. "I'm glad you're alright."

She recognised that voice, she paused for a moment before her eyes widened. "Peter?"

Peter's eyes widened, "I-I'm not Peter. Who's Peter?" Y/N laughed, "I know that voice anywhere, Parker. I thought you were a genius." She smiled as he did the same.

"Anyways, let's get you out of here." He said before untying the ropes.

"Not so fast, spider boy." A voice said, the hero turned around in frustration. "Look man, you have no reason to get this innocent fine young lady in trouble." He said.

Spiderman then shot a web towards the criminal, only to be dodged. Laughing, the man called in the rest of his gang and started to attack the hero.

Everyone was so focused on their own thing that they didn't know that one of the gang members placed a bomb.

The other men had already left after leaving Spider-Man tired on the floor, they knew exactly what was gonna happen, and so did Peter.

So with all his strength, he got up and ran to Y/N, who was trying to free herself all this time.

"Peter..Help." She begged, her eyes full of worry. "Shh, it's alright. I'll get you out of here." He said and untied her.

With Y/N free, the two ran for their lives but it was too late, the bomb exploded as soon as they reached the exit.

The blast was strong, it made the two fly away from each other, one of them still near the exit and the other near the edge of the building.

Peter got up and looked around for Y/N, only to see her on the floor, full of bruises.

The ground below her was about to break. Worried, Peter ran as fast as he could to save her.

But it already broke.

She felll.

He didn't hesitate to jump down after her, not forgetting to shoot a web to catch her.

Luckily, his web was able to wrap itself around Y/N's waist, Y/N looked up and saw Peter and gave him a big smile. She mouthed a "thank you" to him as he smiled back.

But the happy moment was ruined when the web snapped, making Y/N fall and scream.

Peter shot another web, hoping that it'd grip on her tighter this time. But it didn't.

He kept trying and trying until one of them didn't fail him.

He smiled again and made sure she was safe as he went next to her.

"Hey," Peter greeted with a dorky smile.

"Hey." Y/N said.

"I'm so glad you're okay." He said, caressing her cheek. "And I to you." The two stared at each other romantically.

The two got down safely, earning many claps from the crowd.

The two never broke their loving stare, that was until Y/N spotted one of the men pointing a gun towards Peter's back.

With no hesitation, she changed their positions and heard a gun shot after. Gasps and screams echoed through the area.

"Y-Y/N?" Peter asked, he looked at her back and saw there was blood leaking from a hole.

"No." He said in realization, he made her face him and begged with tears forming, "Stay with me, Y/N. Please. Stay with me."

But her eyes were already closed.

#avengers x reader #avengers #peter parker #andrew garfield imagine #andrew garfield x reader #Spiderman #tom holland #tom holland x y/n #tobey maguire #avengers angst #peter parker x reader angst

[whaleofatjme1920]

In a Mirror Image (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

🌸 In a Mirror Image

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: blood, language, cheating (both physical but it's not like, in your face, and emotional)]

Part 1

The flowers that grow like weeds in your lungs bloom thicker and thicker every day. Your vision clouds with blue more often than not, and you can’t think about anything but the blossoms and blood that paint the bathroom with a hue you’re already much too used to. It’s a painful existence, and it’s getting worse. One of the most wretched parts? You’re deteriorating so fast that your vision no longer services you. You are blind, unrendered to see. You still choose to live in a delusion, and you are amongst the only who choose not to acknowledge it.

By now, everyone knows but only one other than you refuses to acknowledge it.

You hear Hoodie arguing with Jack more often than not. It seems the blond haired proxy is angry over what Jack has done to you and because he knows what Hanahaki does to those it takes root in.

“You’ll fucking kill her,” Hoodie seethes as he gets in Jack’s face for the fourth time this weekend. “Look at her-”

“I am!” Jack shot back, his arms crossing defensively over his chest. “Who are you to come in here and speculate on something that you’re not a part of?” He growls. Normally, Jack likes talking to Hoodie, but not when Hoodie’s on a mission to prove Jack a sinner.

“I wasn’t even aware you still had one,” Hoodie retorts through grit teeth. “I can’t believe you. Look at the flowers Ja-” and before he can continue tearing into Jack, he hears your bedroom door open.

While you still share the room with Jack, neither of you are in it at the same time. You’ve taken residence up on the living room couch with Kate and Jack more often than not stays with Leia. The room you share is usually empty, much like your heart.

“Hey there, buttercup,” Hoodie suddenly greets you as you tiredly walk into the kitchen where the two men had previously been in a standoff. “Did you sleep okay?” He asks, voice so much softer and gentler with you than what he had just been using.

You shake your head as you take a seat at the table. “I can’t sleep,” you say.

Hoodie’s brows furrow in sympathy before they knit in frustration when Jack sits next to you. He watches as Jack snakes his arm around you before he presses an empty kiss to the side of your head.

“No?” Jack says in a sickly saccharine tone. “I’ll see what I can do about that. Does that sound good to you?”

You nod slightly, the ghost of a smile on your lips. “That sounds good,” you murmur back.

“Anything for you,” he hums as he pulls you in closer to his side.

“You disgust me,” Hoodie hisses to Jack as he gets up and pushes in his chair roughly, making the table bounce. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Jack for a second as he leaves, roughly slamming the front door behind him.

“What was that about?” You ask, feigning innocence. You refuse to open your eyes to the situation you are in.

“He’s having a bad day,” Jack answers. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he hums as he presses another kiss to the side of your head.

The butterflies in your stomach are dead, but the flowers blood evermore.

“You’re still sleeping out here?” Kate hums as she takes a seat next to you on the couch. She looks exhausted and she’s covered in blood. Her mask is cracked too.

“I guess,” you yawn as you shift slightly from your not so comfortable position. “How has your day been?” You ask as you reach for a glass of water only to see it’s not there.

“Let me,” Kate says as she gets up once more. She knows you’re getting worse. After getting you a bottle of water from the fridge, she comes back to your side. “I’ve had a busy day. Met with an independent named Nyein. They remind me of a big cat,” she finally answers as she opens the water bottle for you.

You take it and begin to slowly sip from it - it stops the flowers from blooming ever so slightly. Your airway opens just a little bit. “Do they now?”

Kate nods as she flips mindlessly through the channels. “They said they’re falling in love with a human. Bad business,” Kate winces, her dark eyes watching you carefully. “I hope they don’t…”

“It’s bad business,” you suddenly say as you feel petals fill your mouth. You cough slightly and the small little forget-me-nots fall into your lap, thankfully free of blood this time. You take one of the flowers into your fingertips and observe it gently. “I hope they’re okay.”

Kate puts her hand on your thigh, lightly squeezing before finally settling on the early evening news. “You wanna burn these blue fuckers?” She asks as the flowers in your lap remain stagnant save for the buds that unfurl at an alarmingly fast pace.

You feel the corners of your lips curl into a smile. “Yes.”

Morbid, your flowers have been springing up everywhere. They’ve infested the temporary house. So, you and Kate went around the place, plucking every single one before starting a bonfire in the backyard.

Toby, who considers himself a bit of a pyromaniac, was immediately summoned by the fire the two of you had cast in the backyard. He’d been out on a grocery run, and honestly, he had wanted to get out of the house.

The dynamics of the house had become uncomfortable to him. What with Leia and Jack sneaking off together and you coughing up a full greenhouse, he has been stressed. Toby can’t stand Jack and Hoodie arguing all the time as it reminds him of the life he tried to escape, and Masky can offer so much but ever since he renounced his love for Jay by force… It’s been hard. Toby knows it’s been hard for everyone involved.

He crosses through the house, sneers at Leia’s room, and then exits through the back to the scent of fire. He sees Kate’s arm around you as the fire blazes slightly blue.

“W-What are you g-gals up to?” He asks, coming to your other side so you remain in the middle.

“Burning stuff,” Kate nonchalantly replies. “You care to chuck anything in?”

Toby glances at you as you struggle to keep air in your lungs. “If I d-d-did, I’d be u-under c-charge for killing a-a-another under the O-Operator’s care,” he muses. He’s referring to Jack, of course. He takes in the scent of burning plant matter and blood and frowns when he remembers it’s yours. His hand reaches yours and squeezes gently.

You squeeze back.

Your experiences with Leia are lukewarm at best, and cold at worst. She’s something, she really is something. There’s moments when no one is in the temp house with you except for her alongside you, and those moments are tense, sharp, like a knife and burn colder than the depths of the sea.

The most memorable conversation you’ve ever had was the one that triggered a domino effect that would lead to a black hole in your chest.

“You’re still up?” Leia’s honeyed voice questions softly as she takes a seat across from you on the back porch at the glass table.

You find it more stifling inside so you choose to spend your time out. The weather is warm, afterall. The sun shines and fluffy clouds the size of whales swim overhead. You have a glass of pink lemonade made from a pouch Hoodie and Kate had picked up earlier. You find that the tang is enough to keep the flowers down.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” You say in passing before you sip from the glass. You enjoy watching the rabbits in the backyard. They hop around without a care in the world.

She begins to thread her fingers through her long silver hair, braiding it. “I just think you should be resting,” she says. “You look so tired these days-”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Touched a nerve,” she sighs. “You know you’re getting worse, right?”

You shoot her a glare, but you know she’s right. You’ve actually been holding out surprisingly longer than most people with Hanahaki Disease. Most people succumb to it within a few weeks of coughing, but you’ve managed to hold out for damn near an entire year. That’s almost unheard of. You’ve been hacking up flowers, their stems, roots and blood ever since Leia came into your life.

Everyone tells you that you’re getting worse, but you should have been dead months ago.

“Stop it,” you growl.

“You’re killing yourself,” she continues. “You could just… Let it all go, y’know?” She hums as she continues to fishtail her silver strands. “Renounce your feelings for him and save yourself.”

You grip your glass and set it back down roughly on the table. “That is literally none of your concern,” you repeat, eyes narrowing at the blue eyed beauty across from you. “Acting like you care-”

“I do, though,” she cuts you off. “I know that the Slender Man has big plans for you, but with you wasting away like this… You’ll never live long enough to see them through.” She flashes you a look of concern, but you can tell it’s fake. It shines like pyrite.

“What, so you can take my place just like that?” You bite back. “You can’t even wait until I’m fucking dead?”

Leia giggles and you hate to admit that it sounds pretty. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Daddy always did say I got what I wanted.” Her eyes drift off and you’re able to see she’s no longer thinking about you, but someone who once loved her. She finishes the braid. “Happy six years to you and Jack. Give him all my regards, won’t you?” She stands up, eyes the rabbits feasting on the clover in the grass, before she plucks your half empty glass from in front of you.

“Leia-!”

“It’s not like you need it,” she chuckles.

“It’s a special day,” you said to Masky, a small smile on your face. “It’s our six year anniversary.” Your posture changes to attention as he closes the door softly behind him. He still smells like cigarettes, but it’s a pleasant scent you’ve found comfort in where others find it a nuisance.

Masky put a smile on his face but it didn't reach his eyes. “You need me to draw a portal or something for you?” He holds his arms open to you as you fall into them, part because you’re so weak and secondly because he knows you need the affection - even if he can’t feel it.

You feel light come to your eyes as you nod after leaving a note for Jack in your shared room on his nightstand.

‘Dear Jack, happy six years! I’d wait for you to get back, but I have a surprise for you at the field you gifted to me for our first anniversary. I await you with happiness. Love, R.’

Masky drew the portal in the living room, a mess of swirling cloud-like silvers and blacks before he laid eyes upon the place you once shared only with Jack. “It’s super pretty,” he says, dark eyes scanning over all the wildflowers. There’s weeds on the path, like no one has cared for it in a while. ‘How poetic,’ he thinks. ‘It’s an allegory for your decayed relationship with Jack.’

“No it’s not,” you giggle as you bring Masky down one of the weed and chicory covered paths to the gazebo. “But it’s special to me,” you hum as you take a seat.

Masky follows beside you. He doesn’t take a seat, mostly feeling it wrong to impose on a space that is Jack’s despite his respect for him falling so far from what it used to be, but takes in the scent of dying flowers all the same. It’s summer, and instead of the sun warming the soft petals, it’s burning them. When you cough up more flowers while waiting for the man who still holds your heart (and refuses to return it) you’re less than pleased to see that they blend in with the untamed mosaic.

“Are you still tired?” Masky asks softly as he lights up a cigarette. “You can rest, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

You glance over to Masky before you rest your head in your hands, wondering where your lover is. You listen to the wind as it blows through the leaves. You listen to Masky’s hum, and eventually, you fall asleep.

You wake back up sometime during the night in your bed and not in a position you normally sleep in. It looks like whoever delivered you back here was extra careful with handling you. You only wake up because Jack has accidentally turned on the light.

“Shit, my bad,” he apologizes, quickly plunging the room back into darkness. “Did I wake you?” He knows he did.

“No,” you lie. “I couldn’t sleep anyways.” That was the most rest you’ve had in months. “Where have you been?” You ask quietly, still choosing to remain buried in the sheets.

Jack slides into bed next to you and gets comfortable. He smells like perfume you don’t wear. Through the faint light of the hallway that peeks under your door, you can see he’s got dark marks on his neck and jaw. “Leia wanted to show me her childhood home. Place isn’t run by Zalgo anymore, so we took a trip out there.”

“Did you now?” You hum as you feel tears prick your eyes.

Jack can see you in the dark. His vision at night far surpasses a human’s. He just chooses not to acknowledge it. Jack knows that his relationship with you is gone, and that you’ve been coughing up flowers for the past year. He knows, and it hurts him. Hurts him deeply that he’s the one causing you such pain, but at the same time, he’s a coward. He chooses not to let you go cleanly because his relationship with Leia is so finite.

He knows she only wants him because at the time he was unattainable. Now that she has him, it is only a matter of time until she does to him what he’s done to you. He understands that fully, but he refuses to leave the safety net that is you because he is selfish. His feelings for you aren’t nonexistent, but it’s that kind of fondness one has after the deed has been done, a love based on past memory and sentiment rather than what will and can be. It has reached his threshold, and you both are too caught up in security rather than what is healthy.

“I did,” he says as his mind rushes a mile a minute. “What did you do today?”

You wonder if you should answer that honestly or not. Would he even care? “I stayed here today, nothing special.” You feel the flowers unfurling in your lungs.

Jack hums once more, his back now facing you as he slowly succumbs to sleep.

You met Masky in the bathroom again, hacking your lungs and more of those fucking flowers up into the bathrub and the sink. Hell, you even got some in the toilet. Your body is growing weaker and weaker by the day. The fact you’ve held out for a year is astronomical, but you know you’ll be being taken from it eventually. No one survives Hanahaki when their lover’s feelings aren’t returned. It either gets returned, or you lose them all entirely.

He almost lost you. You broke the mirror when your body went limp as the vines and flowers crawled out from your lungs, through your esophagus and out of your mouth. If it was an art installation piece, Masky might’ve thought it beautiful, but the fact you went cold and limp and the flowers were blooming at a rapid pace - one he thought he couldn’t keep up with.

Masky, despite not being able to really feel anything, panicked as he took you into his arms. Did he genuinely care for you? No, but he cared to whatever extent the surgery left him with. He fretted because you are under his direct care. He cared so deeply because he too had seen many good proxies and independents lost to it. He cared because a part of him remembered what it was like to have daisies and rhododendrons fill his lungs. Normally, you only have one type of flower to clutter your lungs. Science says “just because.” An old wives’ tale says “love truly lost.” In his case? Jay’s death. Nothing was the same after that.

Masky took no hesitation in scooping you up into his arms and running out of the house to the forest to be closer to his boss’s energy. The Operator could fix this should he will it. He didn’t care that the lights in the house went on from his concerned proxies - the ones who had been sick over what befell you since you came into their care. He didn’t dare let you go as he trampled through the brush in the dead of night, using only the moon.

“Sir!” He calls out frantically. “Sir! I need your help!” He can hear your heart get slower and slower.

And just like that, the devoted father came to his child’s cry.

“My child,” he greets, instantly swooping down to look at your pained, flowery visage. “Did I not tell you to handle this?” He chides softly as he takes you into his arms. The sound of static only grows louder and louder.

“I thought she could,” he says, his tone clearly apologetic. “Please, just… Just fix this for me.” He watches the Operator closely as the tall man holds you in his arms.

While you are not exactly his child directly, you are also still under his care. Leia did not lie that the Operator sees good things for you. Without any other words, the tall man is gone, giving you to gods know who to perform a surgery that should be considered the only humane way out.

He returns to the house where Hoodie, Kate and Toby eagerly awaited him, clamoring around him and pecking like hens wondering where you are. He says that you’re in the hands of a god.

You floated in the ether, your body a galaxy. You watched as your chest was torn open - looked like by the hands of an independent that had talons to rival an eagle.

‘There’s so much,’ she says, her mouth turning into a frown as she worked on carefully removing the clusters of flowers. ‘How is she not dead?’

The Slender Man continues to observe, not offering the doctor any words.

The spirals and swirls inside of you continue to swirl before the flowers get torn out, one by one. The roots that cling to your lungs are stubborn, but with every single one removed, the lights of a different universe go out. Snuffed. Lost. The cavity in your chest grows wider until it births a black hole.

‘How much longer?’ The Slender Man asks, watching as the independent calls in another to help her rid your body of weeds.

She shakes her head as she continues to root them out. They bloom under her touch. ‘I have no idea - she must’ve felt so strongly-’

‘They just keep coming up, Sir,’ the other interjects, her four eyes scanning you rapidly.

The black hole begins to suck up the stars and nebulas that comprise your system. It feasts on you, making every part of what made you you, disappear in its depths. It grows larger as it consumes you. It grows heavier. It grows more powerful.

‘We’re almost there,’ the taloned independent says, her wings fluttering softly to emphasize her point. ‘I’ve never seen it this bad before.’

‘Fix this,’ the Slender Man seethes, his patience wearing thin. He knows your body will not be able to handle this much longer.

The black hole reaches its mass, and slowly, it begins to consume you. It overtakes you, bathes you, and leaves nothing left when it has taken all that it can. Your body is empty. You are a shell. Glimpses of blue, grey and reddish brown flash in your mind’s eye and through the eye of the black hole, but you cannot place the feelings you used to associate with them. You remember, but you do not feel.

The last of the flowers are pulled. The taloned independent is exhausted, and her partner is just as tired. ‘Good fucking lord,’ she breathes out, exhausted from the late night gardening session. ‘In all my years I have never seen that awful disease take hold of an individual that bad,’ she notes. Her bird-like eyes watch over your open chest to make sure they’ve fully cleared it out.

A single forget-me-not sprouts, and the Slender Man is the one who plucks it. Just like that, the flowers, their roots, all evidence you’d ever had life inside of you, is gone. Withered and wilted away.

The black hole takes all that you have to offer, and you are back to consciousness, no longer floating, no longer a home to the vibrancy of the universe.

What came after was a bit of a blur. The Slender Man had brought you back to the safe house you had called your home for the past year surprised to see that some of his favored children were still away, waiting for you as the light of the sun rose over the grass. It was a new dawn.

“How is she?” Hoodie asked, immediately springing up.

“Fixed,” was all the Slender Man said, his gaze shifting from you to your group’s leader. “Masky, I’m entrusting you to watch over her as you have been through something similar.”

“Of course,” the dark eyed man says as he takes you gingerly into his arms. “I wouldn’t trust her with anyone else.”

“One last thing,” the tall man in a suit hums. “I am taking Eyeless Jack from this house. Leia will stay with him.”

“It’s probably for the best. We trust your judgment,” Masky replies.

The Slender Man’s head gently cups Masky’s cheek before he leaves them with the sound of static that dissipates as fast as it appeared.

You spent the first few days after your surgery under bed rest. The Slender Man had healed you but he still worried for the state of your lungs. You needed the rest, and you were pleased to have it. Other than that, you felt… nothing. You were numb. Fleeting feelings of happiness or thankfulness, maybe something melancholic would slip through but ultimately, you were nowhere near your old self.

Jack was not allowed anywhere near you. That was one of the first instructions given to him when the Slender Man had popped into his head. While he did not have an opinion on Jack’s unfaithful behavior, he was more displeased with the fact he’d kickstarted the disease in you. The Slender Man thought that if he started it in Leia, then perhaps everything would turn out alright.

So, he sent the two out with a different group - which mostly meant Jeff, someone the Slender Man knew detested behavior that Jack had committed.

It was not easy for Jack to share the same space with Jeff after word had gotten out about you.

“You’re my best friend,” Jeff had sighed one late afternoon, refusing to even acknowledge Leia in the room. “But that? That was fucked up.”

Jack hummed and kept his gaze on Leia, who looked at him with nothing short of adoration. “Sure.”

Jeff sighed once more and stood up. “You don’t feel an inch bad, do you?”

“No.”

“You’re a shitty guy but you’re an even shittier liar.” Jeff broke the door with how hard he’d slammed it on his way out.

Jack really wasn’t the same, that much was apparent. He’d slowly been becoming more withdrawn and quicker to agitation. Of course, he’d take it out on whoever was around to deal with it. Leia included - it just came in a different form. One in which she’d never complained. But when things were rough between them, things were rough.

Jeff could hardly stand the two most days, so when he’d sneak out, it was with his dog to come pay a visit with you. And he hated how dull you had become.

“Masky used to be a lot more personable,” Jeff would say. “Life of the party when we could get him out of his pseudo-philosophical bullshit. Then he hurled flowers and we knew something was wrong.” Jeff’s hand rubs your back gently as a sign of friendship.

“And then?”

“Then he got that stupid surgery and now he’s just existing. No further purpose, just existing because some pale guy says so for his benefit.” Jeff huffed and looked up at the setting sun.

You found your gaze following his.

“What you’re doing right now,” he began. “It’s no way to live.”

“Would you have rather I’d succumbed to it?” You asked, not adding any inflection to whether you’re happy or sad, hurt or even offended.

“In all honesty?” Jeff tore his eyes from the pink and blue sky. “Yeah. This,” he gestured to you. “This isn’t you.”

Everything you’re supposed to feel feels dampened. Instead, you nodded. “Note taken.”

Jeff frowned.

The first time Jack was able to see you after your surgery was nearing halfway to what would have been seven months. It’d been a rough time without him seeing you, mostly because the guilt had been devouring every humanity he had left. Nothing could fill the void.

Like the first time you had met him, it was an accident when you crossed paths once again. You had been clearing out a house one fine winter’s evening, doing what had been asked of you before you got the faintest scent of something familiar and something you once recognized as comforting. You furrow your brows, weapon at your hip as you slowly and quietly come down the stairs.

Your lips are pressed into a thin line as you peer into the living room. Snow falls outside the window.

“Reader?” A male voice asks, turning around from the hallway. “Is that you?”

You tilt your head slightly as you register the mask you’re looking at. Eyeless Jack, mostly just known as ‘EJ’ or ‘Jack’. You’ve never really spent any time with him though outside of little jobs, so you have no idea who this is or why he sounds so happy to see you.

“Uh, hi, EJ?” You say as you walk at a leisurely pace down the stairs.

Jack freezes momentarily as he comes to greet you in the living room. He’d almost forgotten that when the flowers are removed, so too are the memories alongside feelings.”It’s… It’s good to see you,” he says as he looks down at you, wondering if he should touch you or not.

“I guess it’s nice to see you too,” you say. “What are you doing in this area?” You inquire. You vaguely remember the Slender Man not wanting you two to be in the same area.

“Just out and about,” he answers as he scratches at the back of his neck. “Leia wanted to uh, hunt down some of her sisters - I - it doesn’t matter,” he suddenly finishes, feeling much too awkward to even look at you. He knows you don’t remember, but he certainly does. Looking at you… He has a fresh slate.

“That’s nice,” you say in a tone that’s clearly disinterested. You walk towards the living room windows and look into what is now a cold winter’s night. You can see the snow still falling. If you want to make it back to Masky before he gets worried, you’ll need to head out almost immediately. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

Jack slowly comes to your side and puts his attention on you, watching as the snow continues to fall. “Yeah, the prettiest,” he says softly, desperately trying in vain to hold back on scooping you into his arms. There’s something scratching at the back of his throat.

You nod once again and zip up your coat. “They’re expecting me,” you say, gearing up to brave the snow.

“Do you need any-”

“No,” you cut him off. You’re not sure why it comes out so harshly, but you figure it must be a remnant of a memory you no longer have access to. “I can manage on my own.” You brush past him and open the front door, eyes momentarily clamping shut at how cold it is before you step onto the porch. The sound of the crunching snow is satisfying.

“Stay safe out there,” Jack says softly, not moving from his place as he continues to gaze out the window at the falling snow.

You turn your head briefly over your shoulder, “and you as well.”

Jack hears the door close and you walk off into the night, back to a group he was barred from. That tickling in the back of his throat grows more and more prevalent until he clears his throat. Feels like there’s something on his tongue. He coughs a few more times before holding his hands in front of his mouth, displeased to see the small blue petals he knows will bloom to full flowers in a time frame that is too long to be considered fair.

#eyeless jack #xreader #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack x reader #creepypasta #hanahaki #angst #masky #hoodie #brian thomas #tim wright #kate the chaser #reader insert #slender man

[inastateofmind]

one day / rafe cameron

a.n. YAY for my first fic!!! please be nice because i really do not know what i’m doing. hopefully it’s okay though. feedback is greatly appreciated. let me know what yall want to see next or if i’ve left out any warnings or anything like that!

pairing: non canon rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: y/n tutors sarah and is pining after rafe, little does she know, rafe is pining after her too. song fic inspired by one day by tate mcrae! i do not own any lyrics used. lyrics are italicized.

word count: 2440

warnings: unrequited love induced angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex if you squint, jealousy, kelce being kelce

“She stares at her ceiling once again with a hundred thoughts,

‘Maybe he knows who I am, probably not.’”

Y/N laid in her room quietly, Olivia Rodrigo’s “enough for you” playing faintly in the background while she stared at the ceiling above her. School had just started two weeks ago and her feelings for Kook King Rafe Cameron had only intensified since then. Working for the school’s student services, she had been assigned to tutor Sarah, which left Y/N seeing Rafe more often than her heart could physically handle. The two of them hadn’t talked much, only sharing a few passing comments to each other while she confided in his home with Sarah. The reality of their relationship was that the older Cameron sibling probably hardly knew her name, however that did not stop her from harboring feelings for him from afar for almost two years.

“She walks down the hall with her head down low, scared to meet his eyes

Even when she hears his voice she's swarmed with butterflies”

The halls of the Kook Academy were crowded with girls in short skirts and crop tops and boys in polos and khakis when the bell rang for lunch. Y/N stopped by her locker to switch out her textbooks for the second half of her day, keeping her head low as she weaved in between the crowd. “Dude, I just don’t get it. I basically used Grammarly for the whole thing and I still got a C?” She could make out Kelce’s voice in all the commotion due to the volume of his outburst. A giggle slipped out of her lips as she slipped past him, knowing the teachers in this school know when the students use programs like Kelce’s to write their papers. “Sorry, Y/L/N, is something funny?” The boy stepped towards her, causing her to finally lift her head and meet the eyes of everyone who was around. Y/N’s eyes were immediately drawn to Rafe’s, and then fallen to the hand that gripped around Kelce’s arm, making him step back from the shy girl in front of him, “Man, leave her alone.” Her eyes met Rafe’s again as he smiled at her, causing butterflies to swarm her insides as she turned and walked away, leaving Rafe victim to Kelce’s teasing of his “crush.”

“It’s impossible to get you off my mind, I think about a hundred thoughts and you are ninety-nine

I’ve understood that you will never be mine, and that’s fine — I’m just breaking inside”

“You look so hot, Y/N,” Sarah complimented, curling the last piece of her own hair while Y/N stared at herself in the mirror. Sarah had insisted she come to the annual bonfire, and in return had offered to help her get ready. “Rafe is going to die when he sees you tonight.” Y/N thought her heart stopped right then and there. She spun around quickly, staring at Sarah. “What?” Sarah laughed, fluffing her hair as she stood up. “Y/N/N, you can’t hide that from me. I figure out everything.” Y/N sighed and made her way towards the door, opening it for Sarah to lead the way. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s got a thing for you too.”

—

The bonfire was not Y/N’s scene, to say the least. By the time her and Sarah arrived, many people were already wasted. The number of people in the small space was enough to send Y/N into fight or flight mode, but Sarah was quick to pull her into the crowd with a drink and start dancing. Several songs passed before Y/N found Rafe, who already had his eyes on her. She blushed, suddenly feeling very self conscious. Was this crop top too cropped? Has she danced too bad it’s been embarrassing? Is it obvious she doesn’t belong here? She must’ve been lost in her thoughts for some time, because next thing she knew, Rafe’s hands were resting on her hips, bringing her back to earth. “Anyone home?” He joked, tapping her hips with his fingers. She laughed lightly, her nerves flowing through her body. Rafe leaned into her ear, his breath warm against her cold skin, “You look really good.” This small compliment mixed with the alcohol coursing through her veins gave her a new found confidence. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Cameron.” Y/N swore she saw a faint blush on the notorious bad boy’s cheeks, but she would never be too sure, because as quick as their moment started, it ended. “Rafe! Beer pong let’s go!” Topper yelled from behind Rafe, a crowd cheering at the mention of Rafe’s name. The boy sighed and rolled his eyes. Y/N placed a hand on his chest, “Go,” she smiled, “You can find me later.” Rafe smiled at her before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be back.” Y/N watched as Rafe ran into the crowd chanting his name, laughing as he turned around and pretended to have Topper “crown” him as the beer pong king before beginning their game.

—

An hour had passed when Y/N had begin to feel tired of chatting up random people from school. She had consumed a few more drinks while waiting for Rafe to come find her, however he never came. She decided to take things into her own hands and find Rafe herself. Standing from the log surrounding the bonfire, she swayed slightly as she walked around the small space searching for Rafe. She didn’t see him anywhere, so she had assumed he had left on his own accord. That is, until she heard whistling from Topper and Kelce. “Okay Rafey boy!” She turned quickly to see Rafe helping a skinny blonde from their calculus class into his car. Suddenly, her shoes were the most interesting thing at the bonfire. Y/N felt stupid for ever thinking Rafe cared or was attracted to her, and she felt even more stupid for thinking he was really going to come find her. “Hey,” she turned to see Sarah smiling at her sadly. “John B’s here to take us home,” Y/N cut her off, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m going to go back to mine actually.”

“He always walks the crowded halls and is blinded by this light

A girl who keeps her head down low and never shows her eyes”

Rafe spent most of his time at school surrounded by an entourage. However, as of recently, his main focus hasn’t been the popularity or the girls flocking his way, but more so a specific girl: Y/N. He watched her in class while she worked ahead of the teacher, he noticed how she got anxious in the crowded hallways, he loved how she opened up while she hung out with Sarah after school. He had never felt so attached to a girl before, especially one he had hardly talked to. Something about Y/N just kept drawing Rafe in, making him want to be a proper gentleman and get to know her— all the weird little things and the seemingly unimportant things too. 

“He tried to talk to her but there’s no easy way

‘Cause every time he raises his voice, she runs away”

“Y/N! Hey, wait up!” Rafe yelled down the hallway, running after the girl as she beelined it to her locker. “Y/N,” She opened her locker, shoving her books into it with a sigh. “What do you want, Rafe?” His eyebrows furrowed at her tone. He didn’t understand. At the bonfire, things had been going so good. Now, he could barely get the girl to glance in his direction. “Why are you avoiding me? I thought at the bonfire…” She cut him off, slamming her locker shut. “Yeah, I thought things at the bonfire were going good too, until you left me there to go off with some girl,” She shrugged, turning and walking away before Rafe could even respond. He ran a hand through his hair out of frustration. The reality of the situation: the girl from the bonfire was truly just a friend who was far too wasted and vulnerable to get home on her own, and Rafe recognized that and offered to take her home. He couldn’t blame Y/N for thinking otherwise though, seeing as he did have quite the reputation. He glanced once more in the direction she walked off into before going to meet the younger Cameron sibling for advice.

“Oh, it’s impossible to get you off my mind

I think about a hundred thoughts and you are ninety-nine.

I’ve understood that you will never be mine and that’s fine,

I’m just breaking inside”

Rafe spent the next few afternoons in the comfort of the country club with Kelce and Topper, avoiding his home at all costs until he was sure Y/N was done tutoring Sarah. He wanted nothing more than to go home and steal the girl from his sister so they could talk things out, but he knew that would ultimately make things worse, so he kept his distance. However, the phrase “distance makes the heart grow fonder” rang true, because Y/N was the only thing on his mind. By Wednesday afternoon, he finally gave in, going straight home from school. Wednesdays for Y/N and Sarah were typically their “relaxation” day before cramming for tests on Thursday, so Rafe expected to walk into the living room to find the two of you curled up on the couch. However, the house was oddly quiet and the driveway empty. He texted Sarah, asking where they were.

“John B’s. Be back by dinner.”

John B’s?

Y/N was at John B’s?

Rafe shook his head, opening Snapchat. He looked at Sarah’s story, a picture of her, Kiara and Y/N on the HMS Pogue. He smiled at how happy she looked. The next picture was one of Sarah in John B’s lap, with Y/N in the background sporting JJ’s hat and seemingly swatting at him while he reached to take it back. Rafe’s heart dropped slightly, staring at this picture a little longer than necessary. Maybe if he would’ve stayed with her at the bonfire, that could’ve been them. Now he had basically walked the girl of his dreams into the arms of JJ Maybank. 

‘Maybe it’s better this way,’ He thought. 

But maybe he didn’t want better.

“One day, maybe she’ll stay and start to head over his way

And one day, she’ll look into his eyes and instead of breaking, she’ll call him ‘Mine’

One day, he’ll grab her by the waist and force them to meet face to face

One day he’ll look into her eyes and say that ‘You’re my only light’”

His phone ringing at 1 in the morning woke Rafe from his sleep, not even bothering to see who was calling before answering. “It better be important if you’re waking me up,” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Rafe, you’re too sweet sometimes, you know?” Rafe rolled his eyes, staring at the clock. “Topper, why did you call me?” His patience was wearing thin, but he knew Topper wouldn’t have called him without reason at this time of night. “I just wanted to tell you I just passed Y/N walking home by herself, I asked if she wanted me to give her a ride and she said no, but she looked pretty shaken up. I’ve still got an eye on her but I thought you might want to come,” Topper didn’t have to finish, the minute the girl’s name had fallen out of his mouth Rafe was throwing on a sweatshirt and slipping into shoes faster than he ever has before. His mind was running a million miles a minute. 

Why was she out this late by herself?

Why didn’t she call someone?

Did something already happen?

Rafe grabbed his keys and sped to Topper’s shared location, slowing down once he saw his jeep ahead of him. “I’ve got her, man. Thanks.” He hung up before pulling his car off onto the side of the road. “Y/N,” Rafe spoke as he got out, loud enough that she could hear it was him and not startle her. She turned quickly, staring at him as he approached her slowly. “I just wanted to go for a walk,” she mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone.” Rafe nodded. “I’m not mad at you, but it’s late,” he spoke gently. He could see on her face she was upset and he didn’t want to make it worse. Y/N was looking everywhere but at him. She was nervous, embarrassed, everything in between. “Hey,” Rafe whispered, placing his hands on her waist like he did at the bonfire. Her eyes met his and he could read her like an open book. He saw the nerves. He saw the sadness. “Let’s get you home.”

-

The car ride back to the Cameron household was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Rafe kept one hand on the wheel and one locked in Y/N’s, glancing over at her every few minutes to make sure she was doing okay. Back at the house, he provided her clothes to change into while he grabbed some drinks for them. Y/N sat on his bed, preparing herself for what she was about to do. It was the reason for the walk, the reason for the silence in the car. Honestly, this could be an awful time to do it, but there was no turning back now. “Okay, so I’ve got chips, cookies, water, Pepsi, mountain dew,” “Rafe.” Y/N cut him off, staring at him as she sat criss crossed on his bed. He sat everything down and stared at her, encouraging her to continue. “This could be a bad time to tell you, but I like you. I went on that walk because I needed to get you out of my head but then you showed up so clearly it didn’t work and honestly I’ve liked you for a while, and you don’t have to like me back, oh no you’re laughing,” She cut herself off at the sight of Rafe chuckling and moving towards her. “Why are you laughing?” Y/N whispered as he got close enough that he could feel his breath on her skin. “Because,” Rafe smiled, “I like you too.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #obx #rafe x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #obx imagine #obx fic #outer banks #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you

[earnestly-endlessly]

kind of an odd request — do you have fics where erik is grumpy with everyone else but a ray of sunshine with charles?

Hi anon, thank you for the ask. First and foremost, I'm so sorry for how long this took me but I've been searching for all the fics that come to mind that fit your request. Second, this is not an odd request because I love this trope so much. I mean, it's basically canon that he's grumpy with everyone except for his Charles, right? Anyway, I might add to this list later on, but I can't sit on this any longer and hope that you have found some fics that you enjoy!!

Fic Recs Where Erik is grumpy with everyone but a ray of sunshine with Charles

Twice as Blind – Darksknight

Summary: Erik is probably the biggest asshole on the face of the earth, and because of this, he'll probably die alone. Charles is a complete flirt and playboy and, probably, will never commit to anyone ever.

(The lesson here is that when you have two friends who are BOTH secretly seeing someone, well, it's probable that they're seeing each other.)

In the moonlight, on a joy ride – scarlettblush

Summary: Librarian AU. Charles is the young librarian and Erik is the college student who is completely besotted with him.

The Proper Care of Actors – Clear_Liqueur, Clocks, Etherei, afrocurl

Summary: Erik is an A-list action star who is notoriously difficult to work with, until the day he gets cast alongside Charles Xavier, rom-com darling who can charm the pants off movie audiences the world over and apparently even one Erik Lehnsherr. The paparazzi catch them out and about soon enough, and their real-life Hollywood movie romance becomes instant tabloid fodder.

Rumor Mill – ikeracity

Summary: Erik is the grumpiest, most foul tempered worker at Stark industries. His grumpiness is the stuff of legends.

So it's obviously the talk of the office when Erik is being made to go to the company party and he's bringing his husband. There's rumors flying round about how much of a masochist or equally antisocial bastard Erik's husband must be to put up with him. Others think he must be a meek mouse perhaps bullied by Erik.

What they weren't expecting was the confident, charming, adorable and unbelievably nice Charles that turns up on Erik's arm. What they certainly weren't expecting was how much Erik obviously adores his husband and how happy he is to let others see this.

Work/Life Balance – pocky_slash

Summary: Alex is pretty sure his weird, anti-social boss is a robot. Right up until the guy's adorable husband shows up. His adorable husband who happens to be a famous actor. His adorable husband who happens to be the very same famous actor who was the source of many of Alex's teenage fantasies.

Terrifying Domesticity – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is the most dangerous and notorious mafia boss around for miles, and yet the strangest things terrify him.

For example: his children, and his very pregnant mate.

Of kittens and teacups and love – Ren

Summary: Modern AU in which Charles and Erik are flatmates. Charles studies psychology and likes tea and chess and keeps bringing home stray kittens, and Erik lets him because he's maybe perhaps a little bit sort of in love with him.

Fools Rush In – LoveSupreme

Summary: Erik owns a cafe on the edge of campus and accidentally starts maybe-stalking a Biology Professor there.

Growing Pains – ikeracity

Summary: Twelve-year-old Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, closed-off foster kid with trust issues and a bad temper. Ten-year-old Charles Xavier is a lonely kid in boarding school who just wants a friend.

Logan pretends he doesn't think they're both fucking adorable.

Series

Home Together (The Finding Our Way Remix) – significantowl

Summary: Erik is not the sort of person other students strike up conversations with. His expression, his posture, every part of his manner say: Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to talk to you. But none of that stops the boy ahead of him in line with the collapsible white cane, and nothing can stop Erik from falling for him, like it or not.

Melted Ice Cream and Macaroni Art – pocky_slash

Summary: Everybody likes Charles. Nobody likes Erik. And that's really the source of Erik's doubts. Also, there's ice cream and a baby. Part of ‘the Daycare’ verse.

Walling in or Walling Out – stlkrchck

Summary: Erik stifles a sigh. Of course this is Mr. C. F. Xavier. Of course.

For the prompt: Charles and Raven are throwing a holiday party. Erik is the grumpy neighbor who is annoyed by how loud they are being. So he goes to complain, and Charles makes it up to him.

(Wise Men Say) Only Fools Rush In – wildelybroken

Summary: After reading a fic where Erik and Charles are super sluts, meet at what is presumably Raven and Emma's engagement party, and end up sleeping together, I made the following comment and just inspired myself.

"They start casually texting each other throughout the day, maybe while they’re bored or frustrated at work, and start out meeting up and sleeping together semi-frequently. And eventually they accidentally start dating without noticing it at first, not until Raven and Emma get them alone and are like “wtf you two super sluts are actually dating??” And at first they deny, but then they’re both like “holy shit, we are!” And they meet back at one of their places and they don’t have to say anything, they just look at each other and come together immediately, kissing passionately and ~making love~. In the middle of it they realise that’s what they’ve been doing for a long time now and they confess their love to each other and they live happily ever after because they deserve all the good in the world."

For Charles – Shigai

Summary: Tired of being told he has to find his 'heart', classical piano graduate Erik Lehnsherr decides to travel to Italy and drink from the famous Italian passion for music. While searching for it, he meets Charles Xavier, a graduate in Fine Arts who is basically travelling around the world perfectioning his technique, and who will turn his world upside down.

Together they will discover that, sometimes, what you thought you didn't need is what you needed the most.

Erik Hates People – Anonymous

Summary: Erik hates people- it's his rule, a way of living.

Sugar – humanitys_cutest

Summary: Erik glances at the clock for what feels like the tenth time in less than half the minutes. It feels like he's been in some meeting or other since the day started almost 10 hours ago, and he's had just about enough of listening to these pompous old men discuss what would be the best design for his building like they know anything about it. He tries as subtly as possible to massage his temples to assuage the building migraine, but he knows it's no use.

He just wants to go home.

Everyone Likes Charles – Rosawyn

Summary: '“Everyone who's met him likes him.” Cain's grin was even stupider than before. “Once you meet him, you'll see.”

It was almost like a challenge then. And damn. Erik hated saying no to a challenge.'

Still Going Strong – JackyJango

Summary: Speaking of forty-eight, Erik hates it. Hates it even more that others are aware of it. While he’s pragmatic enough to know and accept that aging is inexorable, the increase in number gives the people around him the freedom to pounce at him with questions, opinions and advice he'd fought to keep at bay all year.

Besides, Erik believes that youth is a state of mind, not a phase in one’s life.

You have a child’s mind in a man’s body, Charles constantly tells him.

But despite his age, Erik is healthy. He works out daily. His muscles are steel and he can dead-lift four hundred pounds. He can break bones without breaking a sweat. Most importantly, he can still carry Charles to the bedroom and fuck him senseless. And as long as Erik can do that, he’s perfectly happy.

All I know is pouring rain and everything has changed – hllfire

Summary: Charles meets Erik, the man he had heard about many times from his sister and some friends, on a rainy Sunday morning. The stories about Erik paint him as a distant and intimidating man, but Charles finds out that maybe the stories had been wrong.

How to Successfully Ruin Your Life – humanveil

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Charles Xavier accepts a job at his local café, expecting nothing more than a fun, new pastime. What he gets is a mysterious customer and a schoolboy crush.

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – magneto, pangea

Summary:Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

The Theory of Partnership Dynamics – Pangea

Summary: “Detective Lehnsherr, how wonderful to see you out on the job!” The fed in the front greets him as they draw nearer. He’s shorter than the other two by a full head, and he’s beaming at Lehnsherr as if completely undeterred by Lehnsherr’s paint-peeling scowl.

“What do the feds want?” Lehnsherr asks bluntly.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” the fed answers cheerfully. Then his gaze lands on Alex, and, impossibly, his grin gets even brighter. “Did you get a new partner?"

“No,” Lehnsherr says through his teeth while at the same time Alex says, “Yes.”

#fic recs #cherik fic recs #cherik #asks #earnestly answers #I'm sure there are waaaay more fics out there #might add more later

[intheticklecloset]

The Great Academia Road Trip, Part 4 (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

Summary: When Kaminari flees from the friends he's playing cards with during a game night at a hotel, their ensuing chase and tickle attack leads to a conversation the electric blonde never knew he needed to have.

A/N: I really like this one because I think it highlights the importance of having conversations about your wants and boundaries before entering play with others. Plus it's cool character development for these three, and I like that, too. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,293

Part 1

~~~

“Uno!”

“Agh, seriously?” Ojiro groaned, glancing at Kaminari’s single card with resigned frustration. “That’s the fifth one! How many of these do you plan to win?”

“All of them,” Denki replied with a smirk. “Obviously.”

Shinsou considered a moment, eyeing his hand. He had a draw four card, but he also had the color in play right now. Plus that would go to Ojiro anyway, and he didn’t want to rob his friend of the chance to stop Kaminari. Any other card he played would leave it up to Ojiro instead. He could reverse it, but that only risked Denki having the color in play and winning the game.

Finally he huffed out a sigh and tossed down a nine. “Good luck, man.”

Ojiro groaned again, hesitated, then decided to draw. A relieved look passed over his face for a brief moment before the reality of his choice settled in. He placed the wild card on the deck and thought for a long, hard moment, entering a staring contest with Kami, who just smirked at him in return.

“…blue,” Ojiro finally said.

Kami sighed, reached for the deck…then lay down his last card – also a wild card – and threw his hands in the air in victory. “Haha! Fifth win, baby!”

Both Ojiro and Shinsou groaned loudly, tossing down their unplayed hands in defeat.

“What the heck, Kaminari?” Shinsou asked. “You’re, like, the king of every game I ever play with you. First Mario Kart, now this?”

Kaminari smirked. “I’m just that good, my friend.”

Ojiro tried to share a glance with Shinsou, but the purple-haired boy was already gathering up the cards to shuffle them again. The blonde snuck his tail over to him under the table, brushing it along his side gently. Shinsou jolted and shot his eyes to him at last, and finally, an exchange of information without words took place.

“You know, Denki, I think there’s one game that both Shinsou and I could beat you at easily,” Ojiro challenged, knowing their friend would take the bait.

“Oh yeah? What is it? Bring it on, punks – I’ll be happy to wipe the floor with you again!” Kaminari grinned, winking to let them know he was kidding. Mostly.

Shinsou took his turn to smirk confidently. “You’re awfully cocky for someone so ticklish, you know.”

Denki froze, eyes going wide. He looked between the two of them, then around at the others in their class who were seated at separate tables in the dining room, each playing their own card or board game. After a long travel day, their teachers had decided to let them have the night off to rest and recuperate before the next round of training in the morning. Though no one had overheard their conversation, if Ojiro and Shinsou started tickling him, everyone in the room was going to tune in to their game.

“Um…c-can’t we talk about this?” Kami tried, turning back to them nervously. He’d had a chance to tell his other group of friends about his preference for lighter tickles, but he hadn’t told Ojiro or Shinsou yet, and if he brought it up now it would just look like a cop-out. “Please don’t attack me with tickles right now. I don’t want everyone to see me like that.”

Ojiro quirked a brow, shared another look with his partner in crime, and hummed. “Fine. Then the game we’ll play now is ‘keep quiet.’ While we play this next round of Uno, Shinsou and I will tickle you at random, and you have to keep quiet when we do or you automatically forfeit the round.”

Kaminari didn’t like his prospects, but it was better than the alternative, so he nodded. “S-Sure. Fine. I can still beat both of you.”

Shinsou shuffled, dealt, and began the next round of play without a word, though he was smirking slightly. Ojiro played, then Kami, then Shinsou, and so on, until the sparky blonde began to wonder when the first tickles would come. The longer they played, the more nervous he got, until finally Shinsou moved slightly, and Kaminari leapt out of his chair with a yelp that drew everyone’s attention to him anyway.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” Shinsou chuckled.

Denki backed away from the table, eyeing the dining room exit. “You said I had to keep quiet. You didn’t say I couldn’t run away.”

“Run away now,” Ojiro dared, “and we’ll hunt you down and tickle you whether others are watching or not.”

Kaminari considered for exactly one second.

Then he took off at a sprint for the door.

Lucky for him, they weren’t allowed to use their quirks in the hotel, otherwise he knew either one of them would have caught up with him immediately. As it was, Ojiro had to let his tail drag behind him and Shinsou couldn’t use his binding cloth to lasso him, so they all ended up running to the nearest set of stairs, darting up them as fast as they could. Kaminari’s heart was racing and the sounds of the chase were freaking him out, but he was determined to at least make it back to the room they were sharing for the night before anything went down.

Finally they reached the fifth floor, and Denki bolted into their blessedly empty room, Shinsou and Ojiro hot on his heels. Shinsou had the presence of mind to close the door behind them even as Ojiro tackled Kami to the ground and immediately started tickling.

“Be gehehehehehentle – be gehehehehentle, plehehehehease!” Denki shrieked through his giggles, squirming and kicking already. He thought maybe he could toughen up and take the harsher tickles he knew were coming his way for running, but now that he was here, he knew he couldn’t, and he hadn’t talked about a safe word with either of these friends yet, so he had to get the words out now. “No hahahahahahard tihihihickles, please! I’m seheheheheherious!”

Ojiro kept him pinned to the floor but eased up on his attack slightly, eyeing his friend with curiosity. “Hey…you okay, man?”

Shinsou knelt beside them both.

“I don’t care if you tickle me,” Denki said in a rush, embarrassed, just wanting to get it over with. “Just please don’t tickle hard. I don’t – I don’t like being made to scream and beg. I just want to laugh.”

Ojiro opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, Shinsou reached over and began carefully poking and prodding at Kami’s side and ribs. “Gentle tickles. You got it.”

Denki flopped onto the floor, out of breath from running so fast and now giggling quietly at the light touches, but his smile was genuine, and both of his friends could see it.

“You like soft tickles, huh, Denki?” Ojiro teased, carefully straddling him and motioning for Shinsou to take his arms. Once his torso was exposed, the blonde scribbled his fingers over his belly and hips. “Wouldn’t have thought you were the type.”

“I would’ve,” Shinsou said quietly. “I’ve spoken to some of our other mutual friends, and they told me you’re more ticklish than Midoriya. Knowing that, and knowing your personality, I assumed that if you liked tickling at all you’d probably like softer tickles due to your sensitivity.” He hummed. “Truthfully, I’m surprised Todoroki can stand being tickled like you tickled him earlier. He seems pretty sensitive himself.”

Kaminari giggled helplessly beneath them both, flushed red from Shinsou’s casual observations about how ticklish he was. He arched his back when Ojiro got a little too close to his waistline. “I c-cahahahahahan’t hehehehelp it,” he whined. “I juhuhuhuhust can’t tahahahahake anything rohohough.”

“Who said anything about helping it?” Shinsou asked.

“Yeah.” Ojiro smirked. “Everyone has their preferences. Even Kirishima has his limits, and we all know he loves being tickled until he’s screaming and crying. It’s all good, Denki. If you just want gentle tickles, we’ll tickle you gently. Doesn’t mean we’ll go easy on the teasing, though~”

Denki whined again. “Nohohohohohohoho, no teheheheheasing…” But he obviously didn’t mean it.

For the next several minutes the two of them tickled Denki into a happy, giggly stupor – so much so that at some point he even stopped resisting the teasing. He just let it all wash over him, let it consume him, let it take him to an elated plane of existence.

Then Ojiro’s tail brushed over his kneecaps, and he jolted right back down to Earth. “No! Nohohohoho, not the knehehehehehees!”

Ojiro lifted his tail. “Sorry. I promise I’ll be really soft, but if you’d rather not mess with that spot at all, I’ll leave it alone.”

Kami couldn’t stop giggling for Shinsou’s fingers in his underarms, but he took a moment to consider before replying. “G-Gehehehehentle,” he said at last, blushing. “My sahahahahafe word is rehehehehed.”

“A safe word?” Ojrio asked.

Shinsou nodded. “That’s a good idea, actually. I should have one of those.”

“Eheheheheveryone should. I t-thihihihihihink mohohohohost of us hahahahahave one if we’re tihihihihihickled enough for it to mahahahahatter.”

“Okay, red means stop for real. Got it.” Ojiro let his tail begin brushing over Kami’s kneecaps again, making the blonde arch his back with a squeal, giggles already bordering on laughter just from the lightest touch. “You okay?”

“Yehehehehehehehes!” Denki whimpered, grinning widely despite himself. “I’m okahahahahay!”

Shinsou took the opportunity to move down to his ribs while Ojiro let his tail brush a little more over his knees, making the blonde sputter and laugh and squirm beneath them.

“Frick, it tihihihihihihickles – it tickles so muhuhuhuhuhuch!” Kami squealed. “How dohohohoes eheheheheveryone do thihihihihis?!”

“What do you mean?” Ojiro asked.

“D-Deheheheheku and Tohohohodoroki and Kirishimahahaha – all of thehehehehem can take beheheheing tickled on their wohohohohorst spot for wahahahay longer than mehehehehe! How do thehehehehey do it?!”

“They just have different tolerance levels, that’s all.”

“It doesn’t make you any weaker for not liking it like they do,” Shinsou added quickly, firmly. “Again, everyone has their preferences. You can probably handle softer, teasing tickles way longer than they can. I know for a fact Midoriya can’t stand being teased and tickled at the same time.”

Ojiro flashed him a smirk. “Had a tickle fight with Deku, did you?”

“Yes. He lost, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

Kaminari suddenly felt like it was all too much, and he called out the safe word around a mouthful of giggles. The others let up immediately, and when he sat up, he sighed heavily, feeling worse than before. “Part of me kind of wants to be able to take that level of tickling. It looks fun on the outside, but when it’s actually happening to me I just can’t stand it. It feels more like torture than fun and I always bail immediately.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Ojiro said firmly, grabbing his shoulder. “Just because a lot of others in our class like being tickled that hard doesn’t mean you have to. Think about Iida. He sits by and watches all of us laugh ourselves to death on the regular, but he never wants anyone to tickle him, and that’s perfectly valid. If you like it, you like it. If you don’t, you don’t. And it’s not like you hate tickling entirely – just the harsher stuff, right?”

Kami sighed. “Right.”

“If you start comparing your endurance levels to others in your class, then you’ve completely missed the point of tickling.” Shinsou spoke quietly but with conviction. “People tickle each other to make each other smile, laugh, and be happy. You can do that with soft tickles just as easily as hard ones. When do you feel happier – after someone pokes you lightly or digs into your worst spot without mercy for ten seconds?”

“Pokes me lightly,” Denki replied immediately, shuddering at the memory of the second option.

“Then that’s your tickle type.”

Ojiro and Denki both looked at Shinsou with blank stares. “Tickle type?”

“Yeah. Everyone’s got a different one. I like being tickled both roughly and gently, but sometimes I’m in the mood for different kinds. That’s my type.” The violet-haired boy looked to Ojiro. “You?”

“Um…I’ve never really thought about it,” Ojiro admitted, “but I guess…I’m only in the mood for it sometimes, and when I am I usually like to just go all-out tickle fight until someone surrenders.”

Shinsou nodded, looking to Kaminari next. “So, what’s your tickle type?”

Kaminari couldn’t explain why, but being asked that for the first time made him feel so much better, so much more confident and in control. “I…I’m in the mood for it whenever, as long as it’s gentle. I don’t like being made to beg for mercy or scream my lungs out. I just like being poked and tickled really softly. Sometimes for prolonged periods if I just want to giggle mindlessly for a while.”

Once he was done, Shinsou nodded again. “See? Three different people, three different tickling preferences. It’s not about how much you can take. It’s about how much you want, and what kind you want. All that matters is that you’re comfortable and having fun. That looks different for everyone. You should ask Midoriya and Todoroki what their types are sometime. I’m sure their answers will be really different. They may even surprise you.”

After a beat of silence, Denki offered him a smile. “You know, you’re wise beyond your years, Shinsou.”

“Thanks.”

Ojiro asked, “So have you had enough for tonight? Or would you like us to tickle you more?”

Denki flushed pink and averted his eyes, but replied, “I…wouldn’t mind a little more. Now that I’m feeling better about it.”

Shinsou and Ojiro shared one more knowing look. Then they wrapped Kaminari up in a tickly group hug that had him giggling and squirming happily for a long, long time.

~~~

Part 5

#fanfiction #tickle fic #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #denki #kaminari #hitoshi #shinsou #ojiro #conversations #boundaries #respect #communication #important #soft tickles #game night #tickling #ticklish #tickle

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Four / Irish Coffee

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader

W/C: 3k

Warnings: alcohol, language, sexual harassment, physical fighting, Javi is a legend for this chapter/next lmao, reader wears makeup and heels but clothing is otherwise not described

A/N: HI I’m gonna forgo summaries for this series from now on, if anyone has an issue with that pls lmk and we can go back to it, I’m just sick of using like the same summary lmao! Hope you guys like it, idk when chapter 5 will come but somewhat soon!

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Irish coffee: a cocktail consisting of hot coffee, Irish whiskey, and sugar, stirred, and topped with cream. The coffee is drunk through the cream.

Four nights after you first kissed Javier, and now many kisses later, Javier insists he take you to the one place he knows in D.C.: a nice bar in the downtown area. You’d spent the days visiting museums and monuments, giving him a tour of the Georgetown campus too. He’d hum along to the radio in your shitty car while you drove place to place. He surprised you with how much modern music he knew.

If the past four days have been getting to know Javier, privately becoming acquainted with each other’s minds and lips, tonight is some kind of grand exposition. Your brief whirlwind of a romance has been contained to your coffee shop and small restaurants off the beaten path. Javier is a well-connected man; he’s sure to know people downtown. From what he’s explained to you, he’s somewhat of a powerhouse in the DEA. Everyone downtown knows a version of the man, who goes by Agent Peña, but all you know is your Javi, your Javi who kisses you goodnight after buying you cupcakes, who drinks your peppermint mochas like it’s the nectar of the gods.

So, it’s safe to say you’re nervous. If he’s bringing you somewhere where he will know people, which he offhandedly told you, you’re going to be the living legend’s date for the night. As you stare into the mirror, your brow furrows in concentration, drawing a line across your eyelid with a pencil of kohl, your phone rings on the vanity in front of you. It makes you jump and the eye pencil drag upwards across your eyelid- most definitely not where you intended it to go. “Fuck!” you shout in annoyance and toss the pencil down. When you pick up, your voice shows your frustration. “Hello?” You ask sharply.

“Hey, abejita,” a smooth voice answers: who else but Javier. 

“Hi, Javi,” you sigh as you press the button, moving the call to the speakerphone. “You made me fuck up my eyeliner.”

“Sorry. Just calling to talk.”

His words make you smile and your ears feel warm as they rush with blood. You aren’t picking him up for another hour. “What, you couldn’t wait that long to talk?” You ask him, biting down on your painted lips with a smile. 

“No. I’m bored and I miss you.” It’s true, he thinks to himself. He hasn’t seen you all day. After spending the last three days in nearly 24-hour contact, he misses the sound of your laughter and the way your soft lips feel pressed against his stubbled cheek. 

“Well, I suppose it’s been…” you trail off as you calculate, “about 20 hours since I’ve seen you. I”m practically going through withdrawals,” you laugh, and it makes Javier’s chest warm to hear that beautiful sound, even through the tinny receiver of the hotel’s phone. “You know, if you have a cute nickname for me, I need to have something equally cute for you.”

“There’s a difference, abejita,” Javier teases, opening the hotel window to smoke out of. “You’re cute. I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“I am many things, little bee, but I am not cute,” Javier chuckles as he sticks the cigarette between his lips and lights it up.

“Well, I think you are,” you refute in a stubborn tone. “You bought me cupcakes on our first date. That’s cute. You come to my work and bring me treats and kiss me in front of my coworkers. That’s cute too.”

Javier shakes his head. Sure, the things could be classified as cute, he supposes, but they’re not the normal Javier. Sexy, rude, intelligent, any of those words could describe him. He’s a playboy, a heartbreaker, and all in all is, by principle, a lone wolf. Well, he was. He’s been chasing Escobar for years and years… and now he’s dead. Maybe he can allow himself to start anew, and this new beginning has to have you in it.

He takes a slow drag from the cigarette, getting lost in his own thoughts and forgetting to answer. The silence makes you suspicious. “Javi? Did I lose you?”

The words snap him back to reality. “No, I’m here. I’m sorry, I… zoned out there.”

“Good,” you smile as you wipe off the messy eyeliner and apply a new, perfectly winged layer of the dark makeup. “I suppose I’ll just have to see what comes. Nicknames have to be earned, not given. Did you ever have any nicknames when you were little?” You ask as you brush a sparkling powder over your eyes.

Javier thinks for a second, almost to the point where you have to ask again if he’s there. That seems to be Javier’s biggest flaw so far. “No, not really. Sometimes the other kids would call me Peñita. Didn’t like that one,” he chuckles, and you can hear air rush past the microphone as he exhales the smoke into the ever-darkening D.C. sky. “My mom had all kinds of names for me, but they were the things you’d call a little kid.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you and you need to speak. “That’s cute. Tell me about your parents,” you ask him as you continue to brush various makeup products across your face.

Javier shakes his head. “That’s more of an over-drinks topic, I think.”

“When have you ever held back information from me?” You scoff lightly, as if you’ve known him a thousand years. It hits you as you say it, the whirlwind this entire thing has been. You’ve known Javier for five days, and he’s already everything to you. And he’s going back to Colombia in 3 weeks. It makes your heart sink in your chest, and anxiety creeps in, the realization that he might not be falling as quickly as you are. Maybe it’s time to pull back a little, you tell yourself. He won’t be here long.

“Ha,” he says dryly and takes another drag from his cigarette. “Well, I’m ready when you are, if you want to come get me a little earlier.”

His emotionless tone makes you panic. You wonder if you just went somewhere you shouldn’t have by asking about his parents, if you’ve just crossed some line you didn’t know existed. You desperately want to ask him, to reassure yourself and get rid of the worry slowly collecting in your gut, but you don’t. You can’t. You shouldn’t. “I’m still getting ready,” you tell him, and it’s truthful. “I’ll be there at 7, like we said. Is that alright?” you ask. 

Javier blows a breath of smoke into the night, the cloud of smoke mingling with the heat puff of his breath. “Sounds good to me. I’ll leave you alone to get ready,” he tells you with a small smile.

“Alright. I’ll see you then. You’re wearing something nice, right?” You clarify one last time. 

“Whatever you wear will be beautiful on you. Don’t worry about it.” Javier, ever the king of flattery, looks down and appraises his own outfit. “But yes, I’m wearing something nice.”

You smile at the reassurance, looking down at the swirling colors of your makeup palette. “Well, thank you. I’ll see you in a bit.” -

You have to say you’re surprised at the level of refinement of the hotel. You’d expected the DEA would’ve put Javier at some shitty little hotel, but it’s surprisingly nice. You remember a few days ago, the sheer terror masked behind a stoic face, but you chuckle as you consider that this famed agent had very few context clue skills. This hotel is nice, a couple of stars at least. Why would they put him here if they were firing him?

Javier stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray when he sees your car approaching, straightening his sport coat. You hold back a grin as he walks over, but the fighting ends when you see him smile as he opens the door and slides in. 

“Hi,” you beam at him, and he leans across the center console, stealing a kiss.

“Hey.” He sneaks one more kiss, one that lasts a little longer and dares to use a bit of tongue. He only breaks away when you do with a laugh. 

“My foot is on the brake right now; be careful but kiss me one more time,” you ask of him with a grin, and he happily complies, cupping your face and kissing you. When he breaks away, your eyes open slowly and you can’t hold in your happiness. “Alright, now we’re going. You’ll have to guide me,” you tell him, and he nods. 

“Sure. You’re just going to go out of here and onto that street to the right,” he says and points the way for you.

Your car follows the path, nodding along to Javier’s instructions. “Jesus, that’s a fancy place. How much does that hotel cost a night?” You marvel as you stare at the gorgeous building in your rearview mirror.  

Javier shrugs. “I’m about to find out. They’re only paying for a few nights for me, then I’m on my own. I’m guessing it isn’t cheap,” he chuckles as he looks over his shoulder. “Or I might switch hotels. Don’t know yet.”

Frowning, you take a turn he’d earlier instructed you to follow. The hotel fades from sight, the dark blue of the December night filling your rearview instead. “Well, I know of a place you could stay for way cheaper.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, adjusting in his seat to face toward you more. “What is that, pretty thing?” He asks, a hand resting on your thigh. 

“Stop,” you giggle and rest one hand atop of his. His fingers are much larger than yours, a fact that makes you shudder as his fingertips find bare skin there. “Pretty thing? That’s weak,” you tease, and Javier just rolls his eyes. “I was going to say you could stay with me, but now I’m not sure,” you say teasingly, eyes locked on the road and most certainly off of Javier. 

His brow furrows. “Well, I can pay you then.”

You shake your head. “Javi. We’re dating… aren’t we?” You ask, the hesitancy creeping into your voice. Now that you say it aloud, you’re not entirely sure that you are. “I mean, I don’t know, I just kind of thought,” you stumble over your speech, word-vomiting out whatever you can to backtrack. 

The man next to you tilts his head, but he nods. “I… I haven’t dated anyone in a long time,” he admits, his fingers starting to slowly grip your thigh rather than rest atop it. “Is this what dating is like to you?”

You nod too, knowing he’s watching you, staring down at the steering wheel. “I… yeah?”

A small smile cracks on his face, making the mustache there twitch softly. “Then I guess I’d say we’re dating. But that doesn’t matter, I don’t want to live in your place rent-free for three weeks.”

“It’s an extended vacation,” you chuckle and bring your hand back to the steering wheel to have two hands for a turn. “Don’t worry about it. I’d like having you around. We’ve already been together nonstop for a couple of days. What’s a little more?” You ask as you look over at him, seeing his eyes soften and his forehead relax from its tightened state. “And besides, any hotel is going to be painfully expensive right now. D.C. during the holidays makes the hotel rates skyrocket.”

He nods as you speak, processing the idea. “Well, do you have a guest room? I don’t want to invade your space, I can sleep on the couch if you don’t, or I can stay in a hotel.”

“Javier,” you chuckle, putting your own hand on his thigh to reassure him. “We’re not moving in together permanently. You’ll stay with me until you need to go back to Colombia, and that’s that.” Your mind has been made up. He can’t argue it, and he knows it from the firmness in your grip on his leg, in the way your body goes rigid as if the words are some formal deal that requires a handshake.

“How do you know I’m not some serial killer who does exactly this to lure you to your death?” Javier asks dryly as he looks over at you, lifting a hand to trace the side of your face slowly.

“Because you’re Javier Peña. Your name was in the newspaper next to Steve’s. You work for the DEA.”

“Some of the guys I work with could definitely be serial killers, that doesn’t discount anything,” Javier grumbles, which makes you laugh and makes him even grumpier. 

“The fact that you said that to me in the first place is my proof, Javi,” you chuckle and pat his thigh softly. “I’m an excellent judge of character. I just graduated from 7 straight years of studying psychology. Remember that?” Javier’s quiet and you know you’ve won. “Then tonight we’ll get your stuff after dinner and get you settled in my place. How does that sound?”

He’s quiet again, studying your face and the way your cheeks move with your lips, the way your brows rise and fall when he’s being ridiculous. He’s just as trained as you are, with 10+ years on you to prove his competence. You like him. You might even love him already, he thinks to himself. Your pretty lips purse at his silence and he finally cracks. “That sounds great, abejita.” Javier leans across the console to kiss your cheek, which makes you shiver softly, like any touch from the man does. “Thank you.”

“Thank me by buying me some drinks, huh?” You tease, turning back to focus on the road. 

-

The bar was nice. Really nice, you learned as you walked in. It projected the essence of Javier to you; naturally, you loved it from the moment you looked around. The room had a low ceiling and wood paneling around the walls, a floor that your short heels clacked upon as you walked to the only open stools- well, only one stool, you realized as you walked. Javier walked behind you, a hand on the small of your back, admiring your legs in the outfit you wore. 

When you finally found the available spot, where you’re now sipping a drink, you’d found that there was only one stool. 

“Do you want to go sit in the restaurant?” You asked Javier as you nodded with your head to the side of the establishment with tables and booths.

He shook his head and pulled out the stool. “You sit. I’ll stand.”

“Javi-”

“Just sit, abejita. I’ve been sitting all day. I can handle a little standing,” he chuckles and kisses your head, gesturing to the stool. When you sit, he smiles down at you and wraps his arms around you loosely from behind. You lean back against his strong chest.

Over the past few days, you and Javier have made infrequent contact, a hug in greeting or in goodbye and plenty of shared kisses. This, however, speaks directly to your touch-starved soul, the way his body practically encompasses you. He orders himself a whiskey and the drink you’d ordered on the first night you met him for you, then continues to stand there.

You crane your head around to look at him, smiling. “I love this place already,” you say, admiring the way you can hear over the hum of the other patrons and the quiet music playing. You’re much more accustomed to places your friends would drag you, where it was more for the cheap drinks than the atmosphere. 

The crow’s feet by his eyes are more pronounced as he smiles at you, but he looks even younger as his lips curve up softly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Shit, is that Peña?” A loud voice calls from somewhere else in the building, and Javier turns, his face falling flat then smiling as he sees the voice behind it. 

“Be right back,” he murmurs and presses a kiss into the top of your head. 

It’s someone he recognizes, that’s for sure, as the man and Javier wrap their arms around each other and firmly pat the other’s back. “No shit! When did you get back to D.C., man?” The other guy asks. “Escobar just died and they’re already sending you back?”

The bartender delivers your drink, and you turn your back to Javier, thanking them and sipping at your liquor. Over your shoulder, you can hear the man and Javier talk shop, about Colombia and their days as DEA trainees, about Escobar’s recent death and Javi’s recent promotion. You glance over your shoulder at him, smiling as he easily talks with the group. You’ve not had the privilege of seeing Javier with his friends- or what seem to be his friends- yet, and he seems fairly social but humble. You appreciate that.

The talking goes on for a while, and you sip at your drink and look around the bar, appreciating the wood that makes a nice noise as your fingernails tap against it rhythmically. 

When your drink is about half-drained, the bartender sets another in front of you. It’s different from what you were drinking, a fluorescent neon color surely made by a mix of ridiculously fruity liqueurs. You look at the bartender with confusion and they nod to a man at the end of the bar. He’s not looking at you, which makes it all the easier to stare at the drink in confusion and disgust rather than drink it. His tie is absolutely egregious, boldly patterned in bright colors. There’s not an ounce of taste about this man.

The drink goes untouched, sitting in front of you as you study it. There seems to be layers, maybe, or maybe the mixed alcohols just congealed awkwardly. You sip your drink and then Javier’s whiskey, refusing to drink whatever fucking concotion sits in front of you.

Five or ten more minutes pass of Javier talking with his friends. You don’t mind- you know the feeling of catching up with people you haven’t seen in a long time. In that time, the drink remains untouched, and you ask the bartender for a refill of your go-to drink.

Not long after the second one arrives, you feel a hand on the curve of your back. You turn, hoping it’s Javier, and instead find it to be the man at the end of the bar who ordered you the drink: Tie Guy. Panic sets in immediately and you arch your back to dodge the hand, which only follows your spine. “Hey. Thought you’d like this drink. You tried it yet?” The man asks, voice clearly showing that he knows you haven’t. 

“No,” you say with a swallow, turning away from him. “Not exactly my style.”

“I thought it was such a pretty drink for such a pretty thing.”

Pretty thing. When Javier called you that earlier, even though the name wasn’t one you liked, it was at least endearing. To hear it again, dripping with sleaze and ill intentions, you shiver and push it further away. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s not my type of drink. My boyfriend will be right back, and-” you try, hating the defense you try to pull.

“He drinks whiskey,” Tie Guy says and gestures to Javier’s ¾ full glass. “No fun. Boring. Too manly, pretentious. Real men can drink something fun like these and not need to worry about someone thinking they don’t have a set of balls,” he says and his fingers trace the rim of the martini glass the concoction sits in. Now you’re definitely not drinking it, now that he’s touched it. 

“Please, I’m not interested,” you try, turning around to face the man that towers over your seated body. “I’d appreciate it if-”

“Hey,” a familiar voice- thank fuck, it’s Javier- calls from behind you. “Excuse me,” he says and pushes Tie Guy out of the way, his arm wrapping around you. It’s a relief, a grip meant entirely for comfort and not for the coercion the man across from you had tried. You melt into it instantly. “She said to back the fuck off, or could you not fucking tell?” He hisses at the man. Javier pulls away from you, stepping towards the man who instinctively steps back.

“Whiskey drinker,” the man snorts and rolls his eyes. “So manly, so over the top. Gotta let everyone know that you’re the alpha, the dominant male, huh?” He asks, getting in Javier’s face. He’s taller than your Javier, but lankier. The fact that Javier could take him crosses your mind, though you hope desperately that it doesn’t come to that.

“What I drink doesn’t fucking matter,” Javier says and shoves his chest. “What matters is that you’re fucking harassing my girlfriend. Back the fuck off,” he says and turns from the man, back to you, his hand on your upper arm. “You okay?” he asks quietly, and you respond with a nod and a forced, close-lipped smile.

“Yep, go ahead, go back to your little prude,” the man laughs drunkenly, his voice full of vitriol. “Oh, no, I bet she loves to act all shy, but then she’s a kinky little thing in bed, isn’t she?” He asks, taunting Javier. “Ties your ass up and whips you, with that sass. I wonder if she-”

The sentence isn’t finished. Javier’s fist flies through the air and connects with the man’s face, followed by a loud, ringing thud as the taller body hits the floor.

-

caffeine rush taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @yooforia @oceanablue @sara-alonso @pedrosmustache @feelingmadclever @hnt-escape @radiowallet @obsessivelysearching @sugarontherims @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @linnie0119 @1800-fight-me @autumnleaves1991-blog @toilet-keeper @evelynseventyr @metalarmsandmanbuns @shannababyy @sambucky21 @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @theorganasolo @jagi-yaaa @mrsparknuts @tacticalsparkles

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javi peña x reader #javi peña #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos #caffeine rush

[danddymaro]

Sweet Annoyance | Rohan Kishibe x Reader

Rohan's used to being alone, so maybe he doesn't know how to properly deal with the reader.

Reader Insert // The reader is brought into the world without any memories or recollection of the past, this makes it easier + It's easy to assume wild shit like this wouldn't happen to Rohan. (◍˃̶ᗜ˂̶◍)ﾉ”

Flashbacks are in italics: Example

Thoughts are italics  in quotes: ‘Example’

Wordcount:   2735

Sweet Annoyance

She silently stood by his side, glancing down at his work with Wonder, truly amazed at his genius, finding every graceful flick his wrist performed to be awestriking. And if that wasn't enough, she was even more enthralled by the sight of his vigorous movements as he moved with more viciousness, his every stroke somehow becoming even more precise and keen during then.

'Wow,' she thought with a soft breath that could have easily been mistaken with a little gasp.

She was amazed a human could draw with such elegance and perfection. Much more, she was astonished at how focused he could be, his vibrant eyes practically glowing with fierceness, enough so that she was certain that if they found their way to hers in that passionate state, she'd be struck stupid.

‘He’s strange,’ She told herself, ‘ But all the same, he’s captivating,’ She added, knowing that there was very little that could compare to his magnetism.

'He's really amazing,' She surmised, having come to the conclusion herself, all  by simply observing him.

Once again he felt a pair of eyes land on him, causing an involuntary shiver to course through him as he felt the presence near.

"...Is there anything you need?" he muttered lowly, before drawing in a low breath, his left hand's finger rimming the cup of warm tea before him whilst his right was still occupied with holding his pen upright, the inky tip hovering over the blank page that lay before him.

"...Besides of course leaving me this," he added while speaking in the same, low tone that was touched by a graze of annoyance.

'I didn't ask for it, ' he thought to himself, 'but nonetheless...it is a kind gesture,' he continued on, knowing that after all, he wasn't going to reject it, but, then again, it wasn't like he was going to praise her for it either.

'-It's not like I asked her,' He stubbornly thought to himself while dragging his index finger down the side of the cup, soon meeting the surface of the desk, tapping it with contemplation.

'However, I will admit...She's undeniably sweet.' He determined, having spent enough time around her to conclude it with certainty, 'Perhaps to a fault,' He went on, growing weary of the attentiveness she displayed towards him.

‘I mean, she could have just left this behind and preoccupied herself with something else,’ He thought to himself, ‘ Honestly, does she think these are conditions for me to work under?’ He thought while irked.

'With her here... staring at me like that...' He went on, trying not to think much about it, ‘- I mean, doesn’t she have better things to do then bother me?’ He wondered languidly, craning his head back to momentarily gaze at her.

Shaking her head she sported a soft, uncertain smile,

"That should be it..but,” She started while leaning back on her heels, rocking back in forth in a way that made her seem childish, and in a sense, cute.

“ You've been in here all day," she answered him, and all the while his eyes were stuck to her, his sharp gaze narrowed to her little figure as it fidgeted.

"um...and ...I….well...," She mumbled incoherently as she shifted uncomfortably, a small huff then being released as she tried to continue, but obviously lacking the confidence.

"Alright then ?" he slowly said back, "Well, If there is nothing else-" he started, cut off as she spoke again,

"Rohan, Are you hungry?" She asked him, soon stepping closer into his workspace as she asked the question, and he could tell that it was the one she wanted to ask before.

There was a sweet upturn to the corners of her lips that was not only genuine and sweet but relieved as she finally let the words escape,

" I can try and make you something....anything really," she insisted, her (e/c) colored eyes seeming to twinkle with anticipation.

" That won't be necessary," he said softly, his entire body now pointed to hers, and by then the pen in his hand had escaped his grasp, lying forgotten on the desk as he watched her.

' She does that so much,' he thought to himself while watching the teasing, little color that lay beneath her (s/c) skin surfacing yet again, and during then her lips begged for attention, the little nibble she executed giving them a more rosy color, enticing him.

Unblinking, he leaned out from his chair slightly, ' and it's so intriguing... so memorizing.' he mused, involuntarily taking a bite of his own lower lip.

‘I can’t help but wonder if they feel just as tender as they look’ He told himself, contemplating on whether or not her mouth was as soft as it looked, despite the abuse she repeatedly forced upon the flesh.

His body gravitated towards her even more, and before he knew it, he slid off of the seat, soon falling to his knees, his two palms laying flat onto the ground as he caught himself.

“Rohan! Are you okay?” She said with worry, immediately flailing onto her own knees, reaching out to him before he stopped her, his voice snarky and full of bite,

“Don’t you have anything better to do than pester me!?” He asked her, watching as her face immediately shifted into surprise, then downheartedness.

“I’m sorry,” She said with a halfhearted smile, slowly standing before she took a step back,

“I didn’t mean to bother you so much,” She said earnestly, having wanted to show him gratitude with her little acts, not having taken into account that until then, he’d been happy being on his own.

“- I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” She told him, “And I wanted to find a way to thank you,” She admitted, “ I’m sorry, I should have known. After all, your work is very important to you. "

" So, I’ll make sure to stay out of your way from now on,” She promised him before she traced her steps back, soon finding her way back to the door just as he finally composed himself.

"Again...I'm sorry Rohan," She said while giving him one last short live glance.

By then the man sat back on his usual seat, his eyes tightly closed as he knit his brows together in a show of frustration the woman had caught sight of before she left.

‘ - I suppose I had it coming,’ She thought to herself as she released a soft, low-spirited sigh, her eyes gazing up at the ceiling while she stood outside of the quiet room the male currently occupied.

‘I have been bothering him far too much.’ She mused with the same downheartedness, yet understanding his exasperation. 

‘But I don’t know anyone or anything, but him.’ She added with a slight grimace, knowing that her neediness to please him came from a clingy part of her that had attached itself to him.

It’d been three weeks since she first woke, finding herself just outside his home, eyeing the world that surrounded her with distraught, because she remembered nothing from a few moments ago. The only thing she had to go by was what she caught sight of, and it was unsettling.

During then Rohan eyed the strange, unsuspecting woman with narrowed eyes, activating his stand with haste, not taking any chances on the trespasser, and putting his stand to work in order to find out everything he needed about her.

“Now...you little trespasser, let’s read your manuscript,” He muttered deviously, a little satisfied curl to his lips lasting only half a second before his expression morphed into one of utter surprise.

To his chagrin, she was all empty pages, something he hadn’t known was possible.

He skimmed over every page, finding everything he gazed at to be unwritten white, from start to finish.

“Impossible…” He murmured, a hand circling her wrist, the other holding the back of her head as he looked down at her slumped form while inspecting her,

“There’s nothing to read,” He said aloud, his eyes growing even more as he saw her begin to stir, her (e/c) colored eyes staring up at him with surprise, and at that, his breath hitched, the involuntary halt in breath covered up by a forced cough.

“Where am I?” She asked him with saddened (e/c) colored drops, and he swore there were unshed tears within the glimmering orbs,

“Who… Who are you?” She wondered aloud, not knowing who the man was.

“- Who am I?” She proceeded to ask, and during then he had no answer, nothing he could offer her that could give her comfort beside a look of pity and confusion.

It became easy for him to offer her solace, his curiosity being all the reason he had to let her stay,

‘Strange girl...You’re an empty book, and yet, I’m curious to skim my eyes over you, again and again, to try and find something new,’ He mused, for a strange reason drawn to her, like the opposite ends of two magnets.

His left hand trailed over to grab his cup when he felt nothing but air, the empty space bringing an immediate frown onto his features,

"Hmm..."

He craned his head back, looking behind him to see the (h/c) haired woman gone.

It had become normal to have her come around, carrying In something for him he'd end up drinking or eating later along the day as he worked, so naturally, he expected her there.

“ she hasn’t shown up since this morning,” he told himself, knowing that the last he saw of her was during the early hours of the day.

" Strange," he muttered, tapping his finger onto the desk’s surface while pressing his lips together, his turquoise eyes glued to the doorway, waiting for her to walk through.

He could feel his mouth water, lingers of sweetness present as he craved another snack, and very faintly, his stomach rumbled.

“That damned girl…” he muttered to himself.

‘She’s conditioned me to such a thing,’ He thought dryly, ‘And now, she’s nowhere to be found,’ He added with the same dull inner tone.

Again, his pen fell, and his finger tapped into the desk as he waited, soon growing annoyed as the time progressed.

“Alright,” he said aloud, having waited long enough.

“She stops all my progress, and now I have to go in search of her,” he added whilst rolling his eyes, looking up at the ceiling with annoyance,

“But….I suppose a break is in order,” He decided while slumping his shoulders, hanging his head. "So, it's not in bad timing."

He moved past his own bedroom, soon coming face to face with hers, finding it shut.

His knuckles then lightly tapped her room’s door before he addressed her, “(F/n).” he said firmly, receiving no answer in return, the very fact irking him furthermore.

“let me guess, “ He then muttered, “You’re angry at me, aren't you?” He asked her as he leaned on the door, his back pressed to it as he spoke.

“You’re angry at me, and now you give me the silent treatment,” he theorized.

“And the only thing that will draw you out is a heartfelt apology from me, right?” He went on, shaking his head at the thought.

‘I don’t have anything to apologize for though, so what do you expect from me?

Some, false, conjured up plea that will only stroke your ego...that’s all I can imagine,’ He went on.

The silence ensued and he tapped his knuckles against the door yet again, doing so more firmly,

‘Just who does she think she is?’ he wondered with annoyance.

“Hey! Come out here already!” He said with the same huff, " I'm in no mood for games!” He exclaimed, receiving no answer back.

‘If it’s a battle of wills, then I’ll be sure to come on top,’ He thought to himself, soon drawing back,

“Alright then, have it your way. If that’s what you want, you can stay in there all day long. I don’t mind one bit!” He said while glaring at the door, crossing his arms before gritting his teeth.

He lasted a total of 10 minutes in the same position before he shook his head, his hand tightened around the knob of the door, deciding that if it wasn't locked he'd make his way in, and if not, he'd leave her to come out on her own.

‘This, in no way means that I cave first,’ He assured himself, ‘ Only that...I...I ca...

- No, It means that you can’t have your way you stubborn girl,’ he went on.

The door opened, and as such he was ready to give her a mouthful before his face fell, soon finding the room vacant,

“Oh...You’re not here…” He said softly, soon falling silent.

‘Don’t tell me you really take it to heart?’ He wondered, sitting down on her bed, thinking back to the last bit of words she offered him,

“ I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to stay out of your way from now on,” She promised him, and he could see how much her face had fallen, the downhearted expression making him swallow down bitterness before he turned his sights from her.

“Again, I'm sorry Rohan," she added before she left the room, the waver in her voice almost impossible to look over.

“You frustrate me sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I want you gone,” He muttered lowly, only imagining she took everything as a sign that he didn’t want her around at all.

His hands then fisted, shaking as he stood rigidly still, thinking about the possibility of her simply running away, taking it all in the only way he could,

“And so now what..?” He said airily, his head hanging low as he uttered the words, “Do you expect me to go out?” He said while lifting up his chin, his eyes hardened,

“ …To run after you?” He said out loud. “Perhaps chase you down? Beg on my knees even?” He said as his voice grew louder, practically yelling,

“ Ha!

I, Rohan Kishibe Beg?” He wondered out loud, by then sounding deranged,

“You annoy the hell out of me!” He said while roaring out the words,

“At least now I can get some peace alone!” He called out, shutting his mouth immediately after.

His bottom lip then caught between the sharp edges of his two rows of teeth as he clamped down on it, because far, deep from within, he regretted the fact that the words that left him.

His mansion was still and quiet, the only sound he could hear being the echo of his own voice that sounded ugly and monstrous to him.

“ I'm in no mood to play (f/n)!” He yelled, again, his mouth ran, sounding vexed, and yet, his heart ran with anxiousness. “If you’re hiding then just come out now!”

“Thank you,” She breathed, almost on the very of tears, her face that brimmed with emotion, hiding close to him as she unsuspectedly clung to him, her arms wrapping around him dearly,

“Thank you so much, “ She breathed, her voice shaky before she released a sweet giggle, the small bit of sweet joy slipping through her misery.

Standing still, he stared down at the strange woman, instantly stunned by the sweet smile that greeted him as she looked up at him, it being the first of many that were to come.

She was always quick to smile at him, offering him the kind expression even during dour moments, something he’d silently appreciated because while he didn’t say it, it didn’t mean he didn’t feel it.

Her sweet, smiling face was there as he closed his eyes, and during then, he felt his fastened heart abruptly stop, the world around him going cold and desolate,

‘There’s a damn killer on the loose,’ he thought to himself,

“ He’s somewhere out there,” he said aloud before the following breath he withdrew held a tremor, 

“ And If you’re out there you little, annoying brat…” he muttered darkly, trailing off as he swallowed hard, trying his best to not think about the possibility.

His long legs launched him into a hard sprint, willing to look through every crack of Miroh to find her, because, truth be told,

' You may be annoying, but I'd rather have you annoying me the rest of my life than never seeing you again!'

#rohan x reader #rohan kishibe x reader #rohan kishibe #rohan x reader insert #rohan kishibe x reader insert #rohan x fem reader #rohan x f reader #rohan x you #rohan kishibe x you #rohan kishibe x y/n #rohan x y/n #jjba #jjba fanfic #jjba part 4 #jjba imagines #jojo's bizarre adventure #diamond is unbreakable #jjba diu #jojo diu #jojo part 4 #diu rohan #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojos bizarre adventure #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Diamond is Unbreakable #jjba diamond is unbreakable #rohan kishibe x female reader insert #jjba x reader #jjba x y/n #jjba x reader insert #jjba x you

[ceoofanticatradora]

As someone who not only loves Adora but also relates to her on a mental level it is beyond frustrating watching her Birthday go down. Because this day that should be around her? To celebrate her? It's not about her.

The fandom once again makes it about Catra. About Shipping. There is so much Art but how often do I see it is just her? Or her and her friends? It's disturbing even to see Catra with her all the time. Even more so when Catra is the focus, the center of attention. It feels like it's Catra's Birthday. The fandom basically gave her a "second" Birthday, once again trashing Adora. Walking all over her.

While it is not always Catra, just mainly: Adora is nothing but Shipping fuel in 90% of the content that exists of her.

You google "Adora Fanart"? Catradora all over the place the second you make it past the first few Artwoks that are actually just about her.

You look for Adora Stickers on PicsArt? Surprise, more Catradora.

The Adora Tag on Instagram? Surprisingly not filled with as much Catradora (today) as you'd expect but still to be found plenty.

What about Amino? A place much more welcoming to Non Catradora Shippers? Unfortunately even there a lot of the Adora (Birthday) content includes, often even revolves around Catra(dora).

All in one that makes me come to these conclusions. Once again it's not solely reduced to Catra(dora), it's just the most/much more common one and the one I have my biggest issues and negative experiences with.

A big part of the fandom does actually not care about Adora! This is only underlined by everyone making fun of her for being "stupid" ("haha, dumb lesbian, how could she not get Catra loved her all along!?") and ignoring all the abuse she went through because "poor Catra uwu she's traumatized from hurting Adora, Adora better comforts her uwu". As if Adora is not the one mentally (and much likely physically) scarred for all of her life because of being abused in all the cruel ways you could imagine: scratched, hit, kicked, slapped, thrown off cliffs, thrown against walls etc., kidnapped and tied up, pulled by the hair, tackled and shoved, gaslighted, insulted and guilt tripped, the list goes on ... Yeah, even worse some people even call her out for "hurting" and "betraying" Catra, saying she needs to apologize for being so cruel. Because in the end it's only Catra who matters to them.

Adding on to that point Adora is nothing but a trophy or accessoire in those peoples eyes. For them Adora cannot possibly exist on her own, as her own person or generally somewhere outside of her relationship with Catra because that's what "defines" her. Catra did the most horrible things but because she did one good thing and "works on being better" (I guess I don't even have to mention that Catra during and after her "redemption" is still a huge d*ck to basically everyone including Adora) she gets the girl. And God forbid you try to draw Adora in a Ship that is not Catradora. Even Glitradora is thin ice. Because "Catra is sad now :(", "Catra should be in place of XY", "That ... is not Catra? Lol C//A Canon you dummie", you get the idea. If you're lucky you escape insults. And sometimes get backhanded compliments: "Ewww, that ship is sooo gross but I guess nice Art". And if you ship Adora with nobody (except for happiness of course) like me? Oh my Gooood, how could I? Catradora has all this "amazing chemistry". (I should add I do support Ships like Glimmadora for what they are though. But generally I'd prefer to see Adora outside of her "romance/shipability" as many do not.)

Also in it's own way adding onto the second point Adora is no longer viewed or treated as the protagonist she is. No, that spot goes (how else could it be) to Catra, the antagonist of 4 Seasons. And unfortunately they are treated like this not only by the fandom but also the staff, including no other than Noelle herself. She-Ra and the Princesses of Power? I only know Catra and Catra and Catra again and how she got away with abusing almost every character in the entire show (especially her "love interest") without consequences because God forbid anything is not about her.

It's beyond saddening seeing almost everything about Adora being made about Shipping her, like she's not her own character with own interests, views and thoughts inside the show (though I gotta admit the fifth Season did throw basically all of that and her entire arc outside the window for the sake of one of the most toxic and abusive ships I've ever laid eyes upon, it being LGBT does not erase any of that).

Adora deserves better than that. She deserves some godamn respect and actual love (especially platonic) and the Anti Catradora Tag will f**king deliever on that! Because these people? They get it.

Also on a side note it is generally disturbing to view that Noelle made almost everyone end up with someone off and on screen. Like I don't need to explain how unrealistic that is. Hi, yes aromantic people exist and not everyone will find love at the same time just because the peace is restored (even if they are not aromantic).

#anti catradora #anti c//a #spop critical #spop salt #anti catra #anti+catra #she ra critical #spop-critical #anti-catradora #happy birthday adora #anti noelle stevenson

[httpbread]

like like

pairing: mikaela hyakuya x reader

words: 3921

i havent written anything coherent in. some time. also this wasn’t a request but mika is my all time favorite character. my HEART requested this.

-

"Do you and (Y/n) have some weird staring contest that no one knows about except you?"

The question is so sudden, so out of the blue, that he looks away from the aforementioned soldier only to find himself squinting up.

His target takes a step to the side, blocking the sun from his view, but he still blinks a few times before he can clearly make out the boy.

"What on earth are you talking about?" despite no longer staring at the sun, this sight also makes his eyes narrow unhappily.

Much like the sun, Yuichiro smiles down at him brightly. Much more toothily. Though, thankfully, Yuu also didn’t make him burst into flames, which was also a plus in his book.

However, maybe not so much right now.

"You and (Y/n)," he says, his voice uncharacteristically low, further adding to Mikaela’s growing suspicion about this conversation, "What else?"

He says it so casually as if they were discussing no more than the weather. But Mikaela knew damned well this went deeper. A sense of deja vu padding in the from the corner of his mind.

So, albeit reluctantly, he leans over to the boy, but he doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, his ruby gaze leaves Yuu to return home where they had been and often were.

Thankfully, they’re none the wiser about what’s happening, still sitting a couple of yards away from them, their hands animatedly gesturing before them like their life depended on it as they explained something to the Hiragi settled across from them.

He says, very quietly to Yuu, "Did Shinoa put you up to this?"

To which, Yuu responds, just as hushed, "If I say yes will you still tell me?"

He fights back against the small upwards tug of his lips at his friends’ reliable antics as he sits up straight again. Always so honest.

"Mika?" Yuu quickly worries, his voice growing a little higher in pitch as he begins to clumsily backtrack, "I meant- no. Shinoa didn’t say anything. It’s me. I’m asking. Why would Shinoa ask?"

"So, Shinoa did say something?" He muses, mostly just to mess with the ravenet.

As if to further stir the pot, the lavender haired leader’s eyes briefly flicker over to them, coming dangerously close to meeting his own gaze, before focusing back on the soldier before her.

(Y/n) doesn’t notice this occurrence either, now making an odd motion that made Mikaela’s brows draw. Their face is a little intense now as they try to clearly convey their point. One hand was splayed out flat and the other made a swirling motion above it. Mikaela briefly wonders what they were rambling about this time.

"Fine, fine," Yuu huffs, drawing his attention again but not enough to make him look away, only continuing to watch the pantomime of the (h/c) haired individual, "Shinoa maybe- uhm, sort of, shined a light on your problem."

At least, he continues watching her until those last words reach his ears, making Mikaela abruptly turn, "My problem?"

Yet, Yuu only grins at him, happy as ever, meeting Mikaela’s gaze with those big emerald puppy dog eyes without a care in the world, "Yup."

Mikaela only offers him a displeased look rather than an actual answer.

The only problem he had was that Shinoa was poking her nosy little nose where it didn’t belong, directly in Mikaela’s personal business.

(Y/n), on the other hand, was never a problem.

As long as they were smiling- and they often were- he was sure everything was right in the world. Over the months they had spent together, getting stuck in confined spaces, shoving back to back during combat, and even bickering with each other on the rare occasion, Mikaela could probably even write an entire guidebook on how to properly handle and care for the individual.

He was still considering the silly handbook idea when he found himself looking at a familiar shade of (e/c).

(Y/n) was looking at him, he realized, and judging by the teasing nudge Shinoa gave their shoulder this wasn’t something they had originally thought of.

Despite this, their strawberry lips curve upward at the corners to give him a toothy smile. Their (e/c) eyes twinkling as they hold his under the warm sun shining high above them.

They lift a smaller hand and wiggle it at him.

Mikaela does the same, subconsciously smiling back at them, but only a smidgen.

Mikaela had many problems, but not (Y/n) and that was certain.

However, an elbow suddenly burrowing between his ribs does add to this list of dilemmas, "Oooh! Did you see that? They’re looking at you!"

The sudden rise in Yuu’s voice makes him return the favor, except he’s significantly more gentle, "I would have never noticed."

Even though Mikaela is sure they couldn’t have heard his grumble, he watches the way their eyes light up, the hand they were waving at him with quickly darting up to muffle their laughter.

It makes his heart soften the same way it always did, ready to slip through the cracks of his rib cage like slow dripping honey.

However, Yuu nearly knocking his head into Mikaela’s forces him to divert his attention to the believed idiot next to him as he all but theatrically whispered to him- hand cupped around his mouth and everything- "Shinoa thinks they have a crush on you."

Well...

Mikaela sure hoped so.

He doesn’t cup his mouth like a dumbass, but whispers back, "Really? What makes her think that?"

This seems to stump Yuu, because he leans back, causing Mikaela to look over at him and watch as he scratches his head.

The ravenet quickly glances over at Shinoa, giving her a puzzled look.

Mikaela’s eyes draw to the lavender haired girl who catches Yuu’s gaze and makes a face back, her brows furrowing.

Then, he looks back at Yuu who shrugs at her in response.

Before then again at Shinoa who flashes him a scowl. He could practically hear her exact thoughts. Definitely something along the lines of ‘Do I really have to do everything myself?’.

Mikaela snorts quietly. She should’ve known and picked someone else to interrogate him. Almost anyone other than Yuu might have made her some inkling of progress.

"Okay, well, I don’t know about that," Yuu says, as if it weren’t obvious he had no idea what he was talking about, "But I know about you."

Mikaela raises a brow at this, "Me? What about me?"

Those ivy eyes find him, glinting with a sense of determination, "Do you like (Y/n)?"

Mikaela almost smiles.

"Of course," he responds dutifully, "They’re part of your squad. I have to."

A little bit of a white lie but it’s more than worth it to watch Yuichiro’s face twist in distaste, obviously expecting a different answer.

"No!" He huffs, lifting his arms with a flurry to cross them over his chest, "I mean- do you like like them?"

Mikaela tilts his head, looking at his age-old friend under his lashes with an all but teasing smirk, "You sound like some kind of schoolgirl, Yuu-chan."

This only serves to frustrate the boy more, "Mika."

"Yuu," he chirps back mockingly.

His eyes have drifted back to (Y/n) though, who is oddly looking at Shinoa with a disturbed expression, making Mikaela pause. That is- until Shinoa leans forward with a grin stretching across her delicate face from ear to ear. He can probably guess what’s happening there.

Mikaela decides he’s thankful Shinoa chose Yuichiro to interrogate him about this matter rather than taking a go at him herself.

He also takes a second to silently apologizes to (Y/n) who clearly does not have this luxury.

"You’re not going to get rid of me that easily, you know," the boy next to him declares uselessly, "I need answers, Mika."

Unfortunately for Yuu, Mikaela had watched him do a multitude of stupid things for many years now. He had even been dragged into most of these stupid acts as an accomplice and impulse control.

Meaning...

Mikaela could play dumb all day.

"Answers about what?"

-

(Y/n)’s eyes narrow.

They take a step to one side.

The mirror across from them does the same.

(Y/n) takes a step to the other side.

Again, the latter follows in suit, toe for toe.

(Y/n) takes a step back.

They take a step forward.

"Would you stop that?" They finally huff, squinting at their opponent unabashedly.

Shinoa was damn near shameless, asking without missing a beat, "Have you guys kissed yet?"

"No!" They squawk, still unused to her bold questions, despite having been her subordinate for at least a year now.

"Oh, oh! What about this?" Shinoa’s lips curl upward in such a grin that puts the Cheshire Cat to shame, "Has he... Y’know?"

She taps her neck with a delicate finger.

(Y/n) voiced her inquiry flatly, "Has he sucked my blood?"

Her coffee-colored eyes light up in response, so they quickly shoot this second wind down.

"No, of course not," they wave away the idea with their hand, "Do I look like a chew toy to you, Shinoa?"

(Y/n) suddenly wasn’t so sure they wanted to know what Shinoa thought they looked like, so they quickly turn on their heels, "Actually, never mind, don’t answer that."

"Oh come on! You’re telling me he hasn’t put the moves on you at all?!" She asked, as if it were an outrage, "Not even one singular move, (Y/n)?"

They don’t even warrant her with a response, continuing to walk along the cracked and battered street.

After a short meeting after breakfast this morning, they had come to the notion they should probably go scavenging in the nearby area for supplies. They would divide and conquer and be back at the rendezvous point in an hour.

Unfortunately for (Y/n), Shinoa had practically thrown her arms around them and strangled them as she declared them as their partner for the day.

Even more unfortunate, most of the area they had agreed to scavenge had turned out to be inaccessible due to debris and overgrowth, so only forty minutes later they found themselves at the place they agreed to meet at.

Alone.

With Shinoa.

This, of course, was after they thought they had escaped this morning’s weird Shinoa-involved-shenanigan.

Everything had been fine. They had just been talking about (favorite hobby) and (Y/n) had maybe gotten a little distracted explaining the details, when suddenly things took a turn for the worse.

Shinoa had nudged them and brought to their attention Mika was looking at them, and like an idiot, (Y/n) had turned to stupidly smile at him and wave.

...

Okay, so, (Y/n) didn’t regret greeting Mika but they definitely regretted the unprecedented consequences of that action.

Ever since then, Shinoa had been pestering them about some silly crush they had on the blond vampire. Asking them ridiculous questions and poking and prodding and doing the most to mess with them.

(Y/n) could only hope their apparent Prince Charming would swoop in and save them from the she-demon’s grilling.

"At least tell me you’ve held hands."

(Y/n) lifts both their hands to their face.

And buries a very quiet, very repressed yell into them.

Shinoa is, of course, unfazed by this and only giggles at their misery.

"You know... all this would go away if you just told me the truth~"

(Y/n) did know one thing- and that one thing was Shinoa. If hypothetically, they did slip up and say something, anything, they knew damned well that would only result in a million and one more questions.

If Shinoa got even so much as a centimeter on them, she would assuredly take a mile.

So, they find their composure and bluntly reply, "I already told you."

(Y/n) turns to face Shinoa, crossing their arms over their chest and flashing the girl a sour look, "There is nothing going on between me and Mika. I don’t know what else you want me to say."

Shinoa gazes back unwaveringly, holding their gaze like a lifeline, staring into the depths of their very soul as she tried to pick them apart like a broken clock.

(Y/n) is reminded to glance down at their watch. They note there is still a good ten minutes left until the rest of their team needed to be back.

But Shinoa’s sudden rise in voice makes them immediately look back up.

"Well, if it isn’t thing one and thing two," she cheerfully sneers at guests behind themself, making them glance over their shoulder curiously, mostly just relieved to have the girl’s attention off them for now.

They’re not surprised at all to find Yuichiro marching along, fists swinging at his sides with a bounce in his smiling step as he makes his way over.

Mikaela trails behind him, looking nowhere near as amused with the world, seeming a little more withdrawn into his white cloak than usual, like a little hermit crab.

The sight instantly makes their lips quirk upward.

"Took you guys long enough," they greet, more than happy to turn away from Shinoa and all her prying questions to see them, "Find anything good?"

Yuichiro nearly cuts them off before they’re finished asking, "I found a chocolate bar!"

It’s more than enough to make a big smile break out across their own lips, but it’s nothing compared to the proud way Yuu is beaming about his discovery.

"That’s... great... what about actual food? Clean water? Toilet paper?" Shinoa deadpans next to them as the two boys slow to a stop.

(Y/n) hums at this. She was only joking, but she did have a point. Maybe this area was too war-torn to effectively scavenge. It wasn’t like it was uncommon. Sometimes the only good thing to come from a place like this was a really good sneeze from all the dust or a cool looking rock.

But this idea is dispelled from their mind at a sudden rustle, before their eyes focus again on Mika who pushes a gloved hand past his cloak, revealing a plastic bag of what appeared to be some kind of supplies.

(Y/n) claps their hands together, smile returning to their features, "Oh! Nice job, Mika!"

Only for Shinoa to ‘accidentally’ shoulder check them as she reaches forward to take the bag, not so subtly mocking, "Yeah! Nice job, Mika."

However, before they can look away and rebuttal, Mikaela looks up at them, his brows knitting together and flashing them an odd look as if to ask them what the hell Shinoa was on about this time.

And just like that (Y/n)’s annoyances fizzle out instantly, a match dropped into a puddle, replaced by a laugh stirring from their chest as they muster a subtle shrug in response.

They swear for a split second they can see the corners of his lips tug upward before he forces them back down, shaking his head back at them.

Though he doesn’t say anything, they nod in agreement, silently sharing his exasperation.

"Hey, quick question-"

Their attention shifts from the blond vampire to find Yuu squinting at them, brows furrowed as he leans forward to peer at them.

It makes (Y/n)’s brows knit too, mirroring his expression but with worry instead of curiosity as they leaned back in response.

"Why are you covered in dirt?"

(Y/n) groans, quickly reaching up to shake their fingers through their usually silky locks, hoping to get most of the dust out.

Damned end of the world debris.

-

The next time Mikaela got to talk to (Y/n) was hours and hours later, much to his dismay.

It was nightfall now and the Shinoa squad had hauled up in a small easily defendable inn that Yoichi and Kimizuki had stumbled across during their own scavenging earlier in the day. The last few hours had been spent securing it as a temporary base of operations.

(Y/n) had volunteered for the first watch, but claimed the room at the end on the bottom floor.

Mikaela had decided on the room next to theirs and had waited there for an hour and a half until he was sure all the others were fast asleep in their beds. He was sure none of them were skipping out on this luxury, since they usually slept cramped up in the car or on the cracked and uneven concrete.

The wait was worth it because when he silently stepped out of his temporary room, he found the (h/c) haired individual standing outside like they had agreed, poking at a small fire they had started with a stick.

The firelight casts a golden crown on their silky (h/c) locks much like a halo and paints their familiar face an expensive flickering shade as they gaze down at the flame in boredom.

"Long day?" He speaks up, but that’s an overstatement. His voice is almost as quiet as the fire crackling and the distant chirping of crickets filling the warm summer night air around them.

Still, those (e/c) eyes flicker up and brighten instantly at the sight of him.

"You could say that," they respond evenly, a welcome hint of amusement tinging their softened voice as they all but throw their stick elsewhere, revealing to Mikaela their barrel withheld excitement. It warms his heart to know they’re so happy to see him, but he saves them the embarrassment of voicing it.

As Mikaela draws closer to them, the gravel crunches under his feet and also with their own movements when they take a seat next to the fire, quickly motioning for him to sit down too.

He does so, unbothered by the heat that greets him, but knowing their affinity for not freezing to death, being alive and all. Proof in the pudding, they were already shuffling closer to steal his warmth, wrapping their arms around their figure.

"I feel like I haven’t gotten to see you all day," they comment suddenly, making Mikaela look over at them with a slight alarm.

But he forces himself to relax when they nudge his shoulder with their own, listening to their gentle words, "Thanks for coming out."

Mikaela can’t help the small smile that finds him as he nudges them back ever so lightly, replying just as softly, "I wouldn’t miss you for the world."

"Oh, so you don’t miss me?" They snort, turning their face to look up at him blankly under their dark lashes, keeping their face carefully clear.

He scrunches his nose up at their silly antics, feeling the urge to shove them playfully but repressing it in fear of them actually moving away, "You know what I meant."

(Y/n)’s lips upturn with a small grin, "Maybe, maybe not..."

They lean closer daringly, nearly bumping noses with him as they tease, meeting his icy gaze with their (e/c) one, "Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it."

Mikaela indulges them, trying to convince himself that he could resist their charms if he really wanted to.

"I missed you too, (Y/n)," he breathes quietly into the air, lightly leaning forward to further decrease the space between them, resting his forehead lightly against theirs.

They gently push back against his head with their own, playful as ever, "I know."

"Do you?" He mocks, lashes sinking against his cheeks as he recalls, "Because I distinctly remember you telling Shinoa earlier that I meant nothing to you."

This time, they pull back a little to head butt him, adding a smidgen more force with faux annoyance, "That is not what I said and you know it."

"You told her I was gum on your shoe," he retorts, cracking his eyes open a smidgen to peer at them smugly, "You said you’d never seen me in your life."

"I did not, shut up," they whine, reaching a hand up in the minuscule space between them to rest his chin in the area between their pointed finger and thumb which came up to squish his cheeks.

It’s a funny feeling smiling as someone messes with your face.

"Besides, what was I supposed to tell her? The truth?" They utter, looking up at him under their lashes and arching a brow, "Because I’m sure she’d be over the moon if I waltzed in and woke her up right now to tell her that I like like you.”

Mikaela watches them steadily as their hand travels up his face to cup his cheek affectionately, "You like like me?”

(Y/n) smiles at him lazily and he admires the way the fire next to them flickers and reflects in the shine of their lively (e/c) eyes, “Shinoa’s words, not mine.”

He hums, eyes sinking closed again as he melts into their warm touch, “You know, she tried to rope Yuu into it too. Maybe she thought she could cover more ground that way or something."

The idea almost makes him snort, but he holds back, melting further into the quiet moment shared between them.

"Did you tell him?" They inquire, brushing their thumb lightly along his cheekbone. Mikaela didn’t need sleep but was certain if he ever did fall asleep again this would be how.

"Not yet," he mumbles, but saying it out loud lets a small prickle of guilt finds him, "I’d rather tell him when he wasn’t being peer pressured to ask me."

"It’s not like he’s going to notice by himself, Mika," (Y/n) retorts, but he can hear their lovely smile in the way their voice draws.

"I know," he responds lightly.

He turns his head in their hand and lovingly presses a kiss to the soft of their palm.

"Let’s not worry about them right now though. Tonight is ours."

Instead of swooning at his YA romance worthy one-liner, (Y/n) instead snorts, as if dumbfounded, "Wh- You cannot be jealous. They’re not even out here."

Mikaela’s eyes flutter open a crack only so he can flash them a sour look.

To which (Y/n) only pulls their hand away to fondly smile at him in response.

While he cherishes this look dearly, mentally taking a photograph of it to join the many others of their beautiful smile, he tells them point-blank, "Look, if you’re not going to cuddle, I’m going back to my room."

"See, that’s just cruel, you don’t even need sleep!" They argue, even as they wiggle closer to him, but they make sure to ‘accidentally’ nudge him a little roughly.

Mikaela hides his smile by resting his head on top of theirs as he welcomes them to his side wholeheartedly, lifting his arm and his cape before wrapping both snug around their figure and pulling them nearer, eliminating all space between them.

"But you do," he reminds them, patting their side fondly, "Now be quiet and close your eyes. I’ll keep watch instead."

"Quit being mean to me or I’ll go to my room," they mutter, and then add pointedly, maybe even a little quieter, "and I will sleep."

It’s not long before Mikaela realizes the reason why is because they were already halfway to snoozing, even as they mumbled that poor argument to him.

He can barely keep the smile off his lips long enough to press a feathery kiss to the top of their head.

"Goodnight, (Y/n)."

#mikaela hyakuya #owari no seraph mikaela #mikaela x reader #mika x reader #mika #ons #owari no seraph #seraph of the end #seraph of the end mikaela #mikaela hyakuya x reader #owari no seraph x reader #seraph of the end x reader #breadkinswrites

[wouldpollyapprove]

Tortured, Broken, Brave

Request: imagine tommy accidentally blinding the reader- like she scared him and he just whips around and slices her- idk i’ve been thinking about it and i kinda want a request?

Requested by Anonymous

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Violence, mention of war. mention of ptsd

A/N: I was so torn with this. I love the idea because Tommy is such a complex character when it comes to emotions. You may think he’ll react one way but it’ll be the total opposite. I just had such a hard time deciding on if I wanted it to be a blurb or a headcanon. In the end, I think it’s more of a oneshot an pretty pleased with it.

Masterlist

It had been a year since the war that tore apart the world ended. A year since the men who were left standing returned home. And it had been a year since Y/n had greeted the love of her life, the shell of the man who had left four years earlier.

Like everyone who protected the home-front, Y/n knew that Tommy wouldn’t be the same once he returned home. As it was expected, she wasn’t surprised by the sleepless nights. In the dark hours of the evening, she’d sit beside her husband, give him the comfort he needed, whether he wanted to be held or just sit in silence next to her. Whatever he needed, Y/n gave him. Over time, Tommy began to heal, or so he led everyone to believe. 

  Stepping back into the family business, Thomas Shelby pretended to be a bronze statue: strong and mighty. With no scratches or dents to ruin his polished exterior, many thought the man was untouchable. And, for the most part, he was. His whole family could see that the war tortured the happy boy that lived inside him, leaving him battered and broken. The once happy personality that was evident in his smile and bright eyes, ran for the hills, hiding in a place where it couldn’t be found. The man Tommy used to be was never to return, a fact that Y/n would have to get used to.

Y/n shut the door behind her quickly in a daft attempt to keep the cold air out. It would still seep in under the door and through the thin window panes, but she didn’t like to think about that. Unwrapping her scarf, she hung it on the coat rack, silently wondering if her husband was home. Tommy was at the betting shop when she’d left for the market, that had been hours ago but the place had become his second home since his return and wouldn’t have surprised her if he was going over the books in his office. Y/n took the basket of produce she’d collected to the kitchen before setting off to find Tommy.

Silently, she crept through the house, searching for a sign of life. Usually, it wasn’t hard to tell if he was home. Tommy liked to perch himself in the drawing-room with a cigarette and paperwork, but as she stood in the archway, her husband couldn’t be seen. Moving along, Y/n walked pasted the guest bedroom. It had been turned into a makeshift office and, down the road, it would hopeful become a nursery. Taking a few steps back, Y/n caught sight of light seeping under the office door. As it was ajar, she didn’t bother knocking, though she knew it would have been best, a lightly pushed against the wood with her knuckles. Her footsteps were absorbed by the wood flooring, not a sound echoing through the room as she approached the man hunched over the small desked. 

“You wor-” Y/n started, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder before she was violently cut off, the feeling of flesh being torn as cool metal sliced threw her tender skin. Adrenaline pumping threw her viens, she stumbled back, clutching her cheek. In front of her, Tommy stood, wide-eyed and horrified, with a blade, crimson red in color as her blood dripped onto the floor.

The blade clattered against the hardwood, Tommy’s face turning an alarming shade white. His hands shook as he held them up, “What have I done?” he muttered to himself, but his wife caught it.

In any other circumstance, Y/n would have fled the room, searching for safety, but she saw no danger from where she stood. Slowly she lowered her blood-stained hands and stepped towards the broken man in front of her like he was a wounded animal. “Tommy, hey, it’s alright. Just a cut,” she smiled at him, hoping it would bring back some color in him. It did not. “It’ll mend in a day or two.”

He shook his head, raking a hand threw his already disheveled hair. “No, no it’s not. It not.” He shook his head once more and walked past her and into the hall. The expression, that of a man that believed he deserved the noose, brought tears to Y/n’s eyes. She knew that Tommy often wished the war had taken him, but to see it written clearly on his face made her want to drown him in love and never let the nasty world touch him.

Alone in her thoughts, Y/n was left to tend to her own wound as Tommy left the house, drowning in misery. Tommy had never raised a hand to her, something he swore he would never do, he was likely walking along the canal, kicking himself for his actions. Knowing him like the back of her hand, Y/n knew he thought she’d only disregarded what he’d done because she was trying to make him feel better, feel less like a monster. But that wasn’t the case. As Y/n whipped a damp cloth across her face, she forgave him.

The war had left him empty and Y/n knew it would take time for him to become whole again. It was foolish of her to scare him like that, his reaction was on her whether he saw it that way or not. All she wanted was for him to get better, to allow himself to heal, that couldn’t be done if he feared what he was capable of.

That night, Tommy didn’t come home, leaving a cold spot next to Y/n where he was supposed to be. Y/n didn’t lay eyes on him until the next morning at work where he had suddenly become an expert at avoiding her. She didn’t try to seek him out, knowing he needed space, so she kept to her desk and tried to do her work.

“What’s going on?” Polly asked, leaning against Y/n’s desk as the young woman typed up a letter. 

Y/n raised a brow, not lifting her eyes from the work in front of her. “What do you mean?” she asked even though she knew.

Polly folded her arms across her chest and glanced at her nephew, who was pacing in his office. “You have a cut on your cheek, Tommy has practically locked himself in his office, and you’ve been at your desk all day. You can’t tell me something didn’t happen.”

A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back in her chair. It was silly of her to believe people wouldn’t notice. On a normal day, Y/n would usually do her work in her husband’s office as he did his own. Tommy liked to have her near, it calmed him, bringing the restless man peace. Her desk was often abandoned except for the few times a meeting was taking place that she wasn’t a part of. To have her sit at her desk all day was virtually unheard of. As the office was practically empty, almost everyone was out for lunch, Y/n took a deep breath and looked at the ground, ashamed with herself. “I snuck up on Tommy last night. I didn’t mean to, didn’t think anything of it, and it scared him and he cut me.”

A gasp split the older woman’s lips, “He cut you?” her words were laced with disgust causing Y/n to cringe. 

“It’s not his fault, Pol. He’s been jumpy and he has night terrors. I should have expected this,” Y/n admitted, resting her head in her hands. “He was horrified with what he’d done and… he felt, practically ran out the door and didn’t come home. Now, he won’t look me in eye and I’m afraid of what he’s doing to himself because of this.”

Polly sighed, taking a moment to think. She’d dealt with plenty of men in her life, drunks, gamblers, players, cheaters, but she’d never dealt with men as broken as the Great War had created. She wanted to be angry at her nephew, Thomas knew better, but she knew with the state of his mind, it was often hard for him to enemy from ally. “Talk to him,” she shrugged. “Force him to listen to you, God knows you’re the only one who gets threw to him.”

“What do I say?”

Pushing herself off the desk, Polly smiled at her. “If you love him, you’ll know exactly what to say.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. Her husband’s aunt was a wise woman but she wasn’t one to give a straight answer. But she did as suggested and stood from her desk, pushed the wrinkles out of her skirt, and tapped her fingers against Tommy’s office door. Before an answer could be given, she let herself in, the owner shocked to see her enter. 

“I’m busy, Y/n,” Tommy informed her, peering at her threw his lashes before moving his eyes back to his work. Stepping closer, his wife stood in front of his desk and waited for him to glance up at her once more. He huffed in frustration and gave in, dropping his pen and sitting up to look at her. “What?”

“You didn’t come home last night, where’d you go?”

He shook his head, a sad smile present on his lips. “Does it matter? Why would you care where I’ve been when I did that to you?” He gestured to the cut on her cheek. 

It was Y/n’s turn to shake her head. Coming around the desk, she moved his chair so he was facing her and cupped his face in her hands, leaning over him. “It matter’s because you, Thomas Shelby, you stubborn arse, are my husband and I love you. I worry about you every fucking day!” she exclaimed, locking her y/e/c with his blue ones. 

“But I…” he trailed off, tears pooling in his eyes. 

Standing between his legs, Y/n pulled him against her, letting his head rest against her stomach. “But nothing. What happened last night was unavoidable, it was bound to happen. You aren’t as tough as you’d like the world to believe and you need to stop acting like it. I’m here,” she petted his hair as his tears soaked her blouse. “I’m here for you and I’ll help with whatever you need.”

Tommy pulled away, eyes red and puffy. “What if it happens again, Y/n? I can barely live with what I did to you. What if we have children and that happens? What if they think I’m a monster?”

Heart aching, Y/n wished she could absorb all his pain, take it away before any more damage could be done to him. “Hey, don’t think like that,” she frowned, caressing his cheek. “Our children will love you just as I do. They will think you’re a brave man, who fought for them when they were just a twinkle in his eyes.”

Letting his wife hold him once more, Tommy wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” he said, voice muffled against the material of her shirt.

Y/n smiled, “I thought Thomas Shelby didn’t apologize?” she teased. Her husband pulled away a little, flashing her that smile that she fell in love with all those years ago, and pulled her into his lap, a chorus of giggles escaping her lips.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he shook his head before peppering her neck with kisses.

“That’s the idea.”

*~~*~~*

Let me know if you like to be added to any of the taglists and feedback is always apprecaiated.

Permanent: @amirahiddleston @haphazardhufflepuff @woahitslucyylu @mzcrazy2 @lovemissyhoneybee @multi-fandom-iimagines @tarafaithe @jenepleurepasbaby @fernweh-fangirl @the-anxious-youth @theshelbyclan @wtfdanness @chloeforde @futuristicslimemongerbanana @auds24 @lucillethings @nemesis729 @sirkekselord @princesscornbread @i-volunteer-for-finnick @iwillboilyourteeth @anyasthoughts @ellieemais

Peaky Blinders: @simonsbluee @queenofmankind

Thomas Shelby: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @imnotuglyimjustpredebut @creativemayhems

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinder imagine #the peaky blinders #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagines #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shleby imagines #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tom shelby #tom shelby imagine #tom shelby imagines #tom shelby x reader

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Priority

Summary: Your wife keeps letting you down and as much as you love her, you’re sick of it.

Warning: Bit of Angst

Word Count: 1,975

*******

She‘s late, again, and from the looks of time she won’t make it at all. She’d left you to do this alone, again. Not that you’re surprised.

The loud sound of metal smacking against compact rubber pulls you from your thoughts.

Looking up, a smile lights across your face as your son drops his bat and takes off. The other little boys scramble to get the ball to the plates but he’s extremely quick. He’s stepping over the home plate in no time.

You rise to your feet, clapping and cheering for him. It grabs his attention and he smiles and waves excitedly at you. Only to deflate instantly at the empty space beside you.

She promised him she’d be here and she let you down again. More importantly she let him down.

Like most things, the game comes to an end. It’s Little Leagues Tee Ball so they aren’t big on “winners” and “losers” but your son’s team won. 

Damien excitedly runs up to you, Nathaniel not too far behind him. 

“Momma did you see how fast I ran?” He bounces up and down. 

With a wide smile, you scoop him up into your arms,“ you were so fast sweetie.”

Clint walks up, Damien’s and Nathaniel’s bags on his shoulders.

“What about me? Did I run fast Auntie Y/N?” Nathaniel asks, holding on to Laura’s hand tightly. 

You turn your smile to your nephew,“ of course you did. You two are gonna give the Yankees a run for their money.” 

“I think you guy’s big win deserves ice cream.” 

The boys cheer, Lila and Cooper smiling in agreement.

All of you head to the cars, the Barton’s get in Laura’s van while you and Damien get in your truck.

Riding over to the closest ice cream shop is only a couple of minutes. Clint says it’s his treat and pays after everyone chooses their ice cream.

You all walk across the street to the park, sitting at a picnic table as you eat your ice cream. 

Conversations flow between the group, Nathaniel and Damien talking about Tee Ball, Clint and Lila talk about archery, Cooper plays on his switch, and you and Laura talk about your kids.

The second Clint and the kids finish they run off to play on the playscape and the conversation turns to your partners, but you don’t contribute much.

Laura, knowing why you’re detached from this particular topic, places a comforting hand over yours,“ I know how frustrating it can be not having her around often.”

“I would completely understand if it couldn’t be helped but,” You sigh and shake your head,“ at this point it’s like she’s choosing not to be here for him.”

“Just give her some time.”

Uncontrollably a scoff falls from your lips,“ time? He’s five. And it’s not like I made this decision on my own. We both wanted kids, I didn’t just pop up pregnant one day and expect her to accept it.”

Laura nods along.

“And the excuses.” You roll your eyes,“ Damien buys it because he’s a child and he trusts his mom but, she turns around and tries to pull it on me like I can’t see through her crap.” 

Your friends listens intently to your ranting. Waiting a few minutes after you’re done before replying.

“I can’t say I completely understand because with Clint, even though he was invested to his job, kind of snapped into his role as a father. We knew he was devoted to us despite the days and months he spent away.”

Narrowed e/c eyes respond to her words,“ is this supposed to make me feel better?” 

She chuckles, shaking her head,“ yes and no. My point is that Clint and Natasha are different. Clint lost his parents when he was young but before that his mom gave him the love and care a child should have, despite his father’s actions.”

You nod, knowing what she’s talking about. Clint had opened up to you years after you were assigned as his partner at S.H.I.E.L.D. You were very open with him from the beginning, even about the horrible relationship you had with your homophobic parents. 

In the end your honesty with him is what lead him to trust you and open up about his father’s addiction to alcohol and his abuse towards Clint. 

From then on the two of you were very close. Going from two to three when you both brought Natasha in.

Laura continues explaining,“ it’s no secret that Natasha didn’t have that. I only know bits and pieces and that alone tells me that this, a marriage, a family, it’s probably very difficult for her.” 

You know she’s right. Natasha’s had a rough bringing up and you don’t doubt that that’s affected her but that doesn’t change the fact that she made a promise to you and ultimately this family to be there for you and she’s breaking that promise. 

As the sun starts to set you all decide to leave the park, stopping to get pizza and then going your separate ways to home.

Opening the door to your home you find Natasha sitting in the living room.

Damien runs over to her, happy to see her and asking where she was. As usual she tells him she was on a mission and that alone draws the boys childish curiosity and inquisitiveness into.

Not wanting to hear this, you set the pizza down on the coffee table and walk away.

It’s a while before she follows in after you, mentioning that he fell asleep and she put him to bed. 

“A mission, huh?” You say after a moment.“ How many times are you going to use that excuse with him Natasha? He doesn’t get it now but eventually he’ll know you’re lying to him.”

Your wife shakes her head,“ I’m not lying, I was on a mission.”

“Eh wrong! Try again.” 

Green eyes roll when you make the sound,“ I really was on a mission and I just got back.”

“Maybe you’re forgetting I work there too. Steve told me you’d finished the mission late last night and was just at the compound. So save the lie I’m genuinely not interested.”

Natasha’s body slumps, defeat and regret twisting around her bones and filling her with guilt.

“Y/N, I’m sorry okay I just-“

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. It was Damien hopping you’d show up. He searched the stands for you when he didn’t see you with me.”

The guilt multiplied as well as the hurt. She didn’t miss the implication of your words: you’d started to give up on her, you didn’t expect her to be there today.

You run a hand through your hair,“ just go make things right with our son.”

With that you go to your room and collapse on the bed. Taking a deep breath, you quickly change into your pajamas, and go straight to sleep.

Hours later, you wake up on your own as opposed to the usual shrill of your alarm. Half asleep you check the time on your phone, it reading 7:15. You’re just about to go back to sleep before you realize what that means.

Knowing you have to get Damien to school by 8:30, you jump up, rushing to pull on some clothes and wash up. 

As you’re basically stumbling down the stairs you’re hit with the familiar smell of fresh coffee and bacon. 

Moving into the kitchen reveals Damien sitting at the table, talking through a mouth of pancakes to your wife. Natasha leans beside the stove, clad in black sweatpants and a t-shirt, sipping from a mug.

“Momma look, mom made pancakes!” Damien exclaims, holding up his half empty plate of food.

You move in further, eyes falling to the empty spot at the table. A plate of pancakes and bacon sits beside a mug of hot coffee. A blue sticky note is on the mug, ‘I Love You ;)’ in your wife’s handwriting on it. 

“Damien, sweetie go get dressed, you don’t want to be late.” 

Being the obedient angel that he is, he jumps up and runs off to get ready for school. 

Natasha watches you as you run your finger along the edge of the white porcelain plate. Then slicing your fork into the pancakes and tasting it.

“Pretty good. Where’d you learn to cook?” You have an upset and snarky comment on reserve but push it aside.

“I called Laura and she walked me through it. Damien likes them.” 

You nod.

Sighing, Natasha sets her mug down, cautiously approaching you.“ Y/N, I’m sorry. I love you and Damien more than I can ever express with words And I-” She steps around you to lock her gaze with yours,“ I know I’ve let you and Damien down and I will do everything I can to make it up to the both of you.” 

“Tasha.” You run a hand through your hair.“ I just don’t understand why? You are avidly making the choice to bail on us.”

“Because I’m scared Y/N. When Damien was born I thought I could do this despite everything I’ve ever known but I see him and the way you are with him and that’s how a mother is supposed to be with their child and I can’t be that. I’m not a mother.” 

It breaks your heart to hear that that’s how she feels. Only for it to break further at the tears that pool in her eyes. 

You reach for her hands, quick to reassure her,“ but you are a mother Natasha. And Damien loves you more than anything in this world. You were so good with him, the problem came when you stopped showing up. All he wants is your love and attention.”

Reaching up you wipe away the escaping tears.

“I know it can’t be easy for you. Coming up the way that you did I know this is all new to you but it is for me too. In a different way yes but still, we’re both learning. I just- I need you Natasha. This isn’t easy alone and whether you’re ready or not you made a promise to us to be here.” 

Natasha’s green eyes flicker away from you at that,“ I’m so sorry. I’ve been acting incredibly selfish.”

Little, shoe clad feet, connecting with the floor breaks the conversation. Damien rounds the corner, dressed and holding his backpack.

“Moms I’m ready.” He says with a bright smile, a mix of yours and Natasha’s.

You squeeze Natasha’s hand in yours, a promise to finish later. 

Together you take your son to school. Damien kissing your cheek before asking Natasha if he’ll be with you to pick him up.

She promises to and you make sure he gets in the school safely before going back home.

You fix two cups of tea and join your wife in the living room. 

Sitting side by side, thighs and shoulders pressed together, you both wait for the other to restart the conversation. 

“You’re a good mother Natasha. Damien adores you. And neither of us expect you to be perfect at this. Believe me I’ve made plenty of mistakes already. If he’s screwed up it’s my fault, not yours.” You partly joke. 

Natasha grabs your hand, fingers lacing with yours,“ I’m going to do everything I can to make it up to you and be here for you and our son. And I’m sorry I’ve made you feel so alone in this.”

“You’re forgiven my love,” you kiss the back of her hand,“ and we’ll figure this out together.” You joke,“ and Laura.” 

She laughs, fully pulling you into her embrace. After she sobers up she kisses your head. 

“I promise from here on out you two are my main priority.” 

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x reader #black widow #marvel x reader #marvel #mcu x reader #mcu #reader insert

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Take My Hand (Part 8.1 - Sonny’s Ending)

Summary: he put your heart back together -- and it was time for you to do the same for him -- and to have your future together. 

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Reader, Rafael Barba x Reader

Word Count: 3,582

Song: There'll be happiness after you / But there was happiness because of you / Both of these things can be true / There is happiness (happiness by taylor swift) 

Warnings: T, a happy ending, a little angst, but sonny is the sweetest, v*rus doesn’t exist b/c i don’t want to live in reality.

A/N: i can’t believe we’re here -- we’ve reached the ending (or a ending). thank you for reading, reblogging, for your comments --  i’ve read and reread every comment multiple times. thank you to @bucky-of-the-opera and @laneygthememequeen​ for being the best beta readers. i have so many other people i want to thank -- but i’m gonna make a separate post. thank you for reading. please let me know what you think. 

His back is turned, heading towards the elevators. 

It was Sonny — slipping past the crowd in the hallways outside the courtrooms — it was always Sonny. 

“Sonny, please,” and your hand brushing his shoulder, “Please—” 

And he reluctantly stops, turning on his heel, lips a thin line as he faces you and his arms crossed, “What?” his question is terse, the tension as thick as in the courtroom — and this had nothing to do with the verdict.

Your mouth opens, but no words leave them—you can’t stop looking at him. 

His brow is furrowed and his jaw set — but you know he’s angry, betrayed, frustrated — and you were the one who had caused it.  

But what else would he feel? When you had played with him, his feelings, his heart, and now, is it even fair to ask for it — your chest squeezes — when you didn't deserve it? 

“What is it?” he asks, his tone flat, and you’re wavering a moment, blinking back tears, and he’s sighing, his shoulders buckling under the weight of it all — the weight you had placed on him, “if you’re telling me that it’s over—” his voice breaks, and your heart breaks along with it, “I get it.” 

No, No— 

And you’re shaking your head, reaching for him, but hesitating as your palms fold in on themselves, drawing them back to your sides. 

 “No, no, Sonny,” and he’s blinking, “I love you,” he’s wordless, mouth slightly agape as he stares at you, “I’m sorry—I’m not doing this right. I—” 

He’s pulling you aside, away from prying eyes, his gaze softening a fraction, “Tell me,” 

And you’re staring up at him — how do you tell him that you love him? How do you put it into words? How are words even enough to encompass everything you feel? There aren’t words, there isn't a sentence you would say that would ever do— 

But you can try. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, "I've pushed you — shoved you away as if you've meant nothing to me, when you mean everything to me," and tears are stinging at your eyes, "I can't apologize to you enough — I treated you like shit — every time you wanted to move forward I brushed you off because I was afraid, we wouldn't make it. That I would—" and you bite your lip — doesn’t that sound familiar?

"No apology I give can make up for what I did — nothing can make up for what I did, but I can promise I'll never do it again because—" and he's meeting your gaze as you step a little closer, dare to climb the cliffside you had plunged yourself down — because you would, for him, you would do anything. 

“I want to wake up beside you every morning, I want you to be the first person I see in the morning and the last person I see at night, you’re the first person I want to tell good news when I get it—” and your voice is breaking, “living these last few days without you — it wasn't living because I couldn’t breathe,” tears sting at the corners of your eyes, “and I don’t deserve you after what I put you through — and I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you — but, I—” and you’re gazing up at him, your fingers tentatively brushing against the length of his cheek, “do you still have that ring?” 

He’s blinking, his eyes glassy, but he's shaking his head, "What about—" 

"It was never Rafael — it was always me," your voice breaks, "I was scared — I was pushing you away, and I was using him to do it. You were right. I didn't want to admit to myself how much I wanted this — how much it scared me to want someone so desperately," and you swallow the lump in your throat, "to love someone so fully — I never thought I could. I never thought someone could but— you did. You always did." 

And he always did — he was there to put your heart back together, he was there to help you grow, he was there to make you smile — he was always there by your side. 

"I want to marry you, Dominick Carisi Jr.," You smile softly, as your hands drop to his, "I want to be your spouse, I want to be your partner, I want to do everything you've done for me and more — because you deserve everything. You deserve better than me, and I'll spend my entire life trying to give it to you," but he doesn’t take your hands, and you waver, "it's okay if you're not ready or if you need time—" 

But his fingers slowly intertwine with yours, fitting together perfectly — as always, and he's cupping your cheek, his eyes shining, "I just want you, sweetheart. Always have."  

And your lips split into a grin, heart thrumming in your ears as you pull him into a kiss, his lips move against yours — finally and wholly — as his arms wrap around your waist, his palms sliding against your lower back. And he tastes like home — the one  housed between his arms, in his loving gaze, and his soft touches — the one you know you could never live without, and the one you wouldn’t have to — because he was it. 

And as you part, he smiles, his fingers cupping your cheeks, but he’s glancing down, “I still need time before—” 

You nod, waving off his explanations — ones you didn’t deserve, “I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere,” your thumb running across the length of his cheek, “never again.” 

And he’s smiling, lips curled in a wide smile — the pain of the last few weeks slipping from his face, as he tugs you closer, “Can I kiss you?” 

And you laugh, “Why are you even asking—” 

But he cuts you off with his lips, swallowing your laugh, and stealing your breath — just as he did your heart. 

How did you get so lucky? 

~~~

“Didn’t think you could leave without saying goodbye, did you?” your arms crossed across your chest, the cool brick of Lucia’s apartment building still finding its way through the plush lining of your coat, a small smile on your lips, only half forced — just as it was only half-awkward. 

Half-awkward because neither of you had spoken a word to each other since the trial — your firm was wrapping up sentencing negotiations on your end, and your texts over the last few days to Rafael had been sporadic at best. But you couldn’t let it end like that — you couldn’t just disappear, not again. 

You had learned that lesson — twice over. 

But to your surprise, his lips curl wryly, “And I thought your fiancee was the one who was the former detective,” 

And your brow wrinkles, “How—” 

His eyes flicker to your hands and back, the ring resting delicately on your finger, and your mouth nearly agape, you fidget, fingers toying with the metal band — you had gotten far too used to it already, as if it had always been there. 

You bite your lip — and maybe it always was. 

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” and you know he means it  — no sarcastic bite to his tone, but only resignation — the very same that made your heart ache. 

“Rafael—” 

“You don’t have to explain,” he shifts from foot to foot, his head tilted, a sad smile on his lips, “I think we’re past explanations at this point.” 

And any words you have die on your tongue, as you swallow the sentiments in your heart — about how much you loved him, about maybe in another life you would have been together, and about how much you hope that he would find someone else — no, those weren’t as helpful as you wished they were.

“It’s not an engagement ring,” you say softly, “it’s a promise ring—” 

“You and Carisi decide to go back to the 1950s?” he teases lightly, as you scoff, shaking your head, “not quite ready to get married yet?” 

“After everything,” you say softly, “I think both of us needed some—” 

“Time,” he finishes, licking his lips, “I’m familiar,” 

And you swallow the lump in your throat, “I’m sorry if this is—” 

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” and now you’re blinking as he purses his lips, “It wasn’t fair to spring this on you — to tell you how I felt, but I did it anyway—” he shakes his head, “I needed to tell you — I just hope you know that,” and he bites his lip, “that Carisi—” 

“He does — we do,” you sigh, stepping forward, “you know Sonny isn’t the type to hold a grudge — and anyway, this,” your fingers graze over the band again, “it was between me and him, not you.” 

And he’s nodding, his nose now red from the cold, as a small sigh escapes his lips, “I just want you to be happy.” 

“I am happy,” you smile, “I really am,” and you reach for him, squeezing his hand, “and I wish you nothing but the best, Rafael Barba — because you deserve it.” 

And he’s smiling, as he squeezes back, before stepping back, glancing at his watch, “You should get back home, shouldn’t you?” 

And you raise an eyebrow, “Since when did you become my keeper?” you echo his words from all those years ago — the very same he had said to you — and he rolls his eyes. 

“I’m not,” but he tilts his head, “but you have someone else to do that, don’t you?” And it’s almost on cue, your phone is vibrating in your pocket, messages from Sonny to check in — asking what you wanted for dinner. Rafael steps forward,  before leaning slowly — giving you enough time to lean away but you don’t — as his lips brush against your forehead, a goodbye without words, smiling as he did so. 

“Will I see you around?” you ask as he’s turning to go instead the building, just as snowflakes begin to fall, the icy melting as it drifted to the concrete, and he looks over his shoulder with a smile. 

“You will,” and he steps inside, the door swinging shut behind him, as you grab your phone, calling Sonny. 

“Hey, I’m on my way home soon,” as you step away from the building, “do you need me to pick up anything for dinner?” 

~~~

There’s a knock at Sonny’s door, just as he finishes looking over an answer from the defendant’s attorney, “Busy?” 

“Never for you,” he smiles, as you shut the door behind you, rounding his desk, perching yourself on the edge of his desk in front of him, as your fingers intertwine, “I’m almost done, sweetheart,” 

“Really?” you raise your eyebrows, a wry smile on your lips, checking your phone, “I believe you said that almost an hour and half ago,” your eyes drift back to him. 

“Well, now I’m really almost done,” 

“I am only just getting settled into your place, but if you keep pulling these late nights, I may get bored and redecorate.” 

“Oh really?” he echoes your taunt, as you laugh, “I’d pay to see that.” 

“I’m thinking purple walls,” and he snorts, “with yellow curtains—” 

“I love it,” and now you’re pouting, “as long as you’re happy,” and you roll your eyes. 

“This is supposed to make you come home earlier, and you’re smiling, until he’s tugging you off with a small yelp, right into his lap. 

“Sonny—” and he’s nosing your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin, sighing against you, as you shiver, “Sonny,” you repeat, voice much softer, “let’s go home.” 

“Not yet,” he murmurs, against you as you gasp, his lips sucking softly against your pulse. 

“You know,” and you’re nearly squirming, “we can do all this and more at home,” you as you pull away, cupping his cheek, “what’s gotten into you?” And you don’t notice when he pulls the ring from his pocket, until he holds up in front of you — your mouth is dry, as tears sting at your eyes, “Sonny—” 

“You have, sweetheart,” he says, his voice nearly hoarse, “I wanted to wait until tonight, I wanted to propose to you at our apartment — surrounding by lights, over the first meal I ever cooked for you—” 

“Italian poached eggs,” and he smiles, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, before he continues. 

“But I couldn’t wait another second,” he whispers, fingers brushing against your cheek, “I can’t spend another second without asking you to marry me,” 

“Sonny, I—” 

“I see my future with you, sweetheart — nothing is certain, nothing at all,” he shakes his head, “but nothing else matters if you’re there beside me — my best friend,” he kisses you softly on the lips, “my love,” another kiss, “and hopefully my—” 

“Yes, Sonny, yes,” you kiss him in earnest, gripping the front of his shirt, again and again, “I’ll marry you,” and his eyes are glassy as he kisses you again, engulfing you in his embrace, as your fingers splay over his shoulder and on his chest, his heart racing under your touch. 

“I almost can’t believe it,” he murmurs, as your lips find your way to his again, “I can’t believe you said yes.” 

“I’ll say it a million times, if you want,” you part your lips as he tilts his head, “Yes,” kiss, “yes,” kiss, “yes—” and he cuts you off with his lips, grinning against you, “I love you so much, Sonny Carisi,”

“I love you too,” he says, brushing away a tear slipping down your cheek, “I just I never thought I’d—” 

“Shh,” you kiss him again, swallowing his words, and you ground yourself in him — his touch, his scent, his taste — him, “it’s real, we’re getting married.” 

And he surges forward to kiss you again, when his phone begins to vibrate, “Shit,” he murmurs under his breath, grabbing his phone, “I forgot I—” 

“Forgot what?” and you glance at his phone, spotting your dining table set up nicely with a white tablecloth, a vase of your favorite flowers, and lights strung up above it, and you cover your mouth, “Sonny—” 

“I was having Liv, Fin, and Amanda help me set up—” 

“They were helping you set this up?” you repeat with a ghost of a laugh in your voice, “please tell me you have pictures of Fin putting up string lights—” 

He snorts, “I think I wouldn’t make it out alive with that picture,” and he purses his lips, “this is where I wanted to ask you — in our home over dinner, but just seeing you, I—” his fingers interlace with yours, “I couldn’t wait to ask to marry you.” 

Your laugh is watery and you don’t care, as you press your forehead to his, “Well I can’t wait to marry you,” And he’s smiling — and you can’t believe you get to wake up to that smile every day for the rest of your life, and you’re slipping from the chair, your fingers still laced with his, “Let’s go home?” 

And you do, your hand never leaving his the entire way there. 

~~~

“You have to show me your recipe for this, El—” you catch a sharp look from your husband’s mother, “Mom,” you correct yourself, “I don’t know how you do it.” 

Elena tastes the dish, a small smile gracing her lips, “I think it’s turned out even better somehow,” and she squeezes your shoulder, “must be your help,” 

Sonny snorts, and both of your heads snap to him, “What?” 

“Something to say, Dominick?” Elena crosses her arms, as her husband claps his hand to his son’s shoulder and shakes his head. 

“No, ma’am,” and you roll your eyes, biting back your smile while you stir the sauce. His parents slip from the kitchen for a moment, taking drinks over to their daughters and their families, leaving the two of you alone. 

You feel Sonny watch you, leaning against the counter, his gaze skimming over the length of you, lingering. Until he pushes himself from the counter, coming behind you to wrap his arms around you, his hand over yours, helping you stir. 

“Sonny, contrary to your belief, I can handle stirring this—” a little sauce flecks against your thumb and the back of your palm, the heat low enough that it barely stings, but Sonny’s pulling your hand away, and your protest dies on your lips as he licks the sauce from your hand. The air thickens, and it’s not from the heat of stovetops, as he grins. 

“Mm, Ma was right — it is better,” he presses a kiss to your temple, squeezing your hips, before stepping away just as his mom re-enters. 

“Dominick, go help your sisters with their kids, some of the younger ones are—” 

“I know the drill,” his hand brushes your waist as he leaves, throwing one last smile over his shoulder. 

Your gaze falls back to the pot in front of you, lips curled, until you find Elena beside you again, “You two are happy, huh?” 

And she’s turning the burner off, as you glance at her, biting your lip, “We really are — I can’t remember ever being this happy.” 

“That’s what love does to us, isn’t it?” and she’s looking out the window at the backyard, watching Sonny play with his nieces and nephews, “it brings out the best in us,” and she turns again, “and I want to thank you for doing that for my son.” 

You blink, “Elena, I—” 

“I know you had your trouble getting here, but I know,” she looks to Sonny again, “I know my son is happiest with you — you’ve helped him come into his own,” 

You nod, softly smiling as you find him again in the yard, now standing off to the side, watching his sisters’ kids run around, “We helped each other — he’s the best person I know, really,” 

“He is,” and she squeezes your shoulder, “thank you for taking care of him,” 

You nod again, blinking back tears, “Thank you for letting me.” 

~~~

“Think you want that?” Sonny asks you, as you sit at the table, watching his sister pick up her son who was falling asleep at the table, his head lolling for the last fifteen minutes, until his father picked him up, his head resting on your shoulder. 

“A kid?” you rest your chin on his shoulder, “Well, your mom never fails to remind us of our lack of one,” you smile, glancing back at the kids, before licking your lips, “I was never sure,” and his expression wavers, “but I think with you — I think we could do anything,” and he relaxes, spotting your smile, 

“What?” 

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, “You would just be a really good dad,” 

He raises his eyebrows, “Really?” 

And you snort, jerking your heads toward the kids, “Have you seen yourself with your nephews and nieces?” 

He sighs, “Well that’s the easy stuff — playing with them,” he watches as his sister picks up her son’s things, and grabs him juice for the car ride him, “taking care of them, protecting them, letting them make their way in the world,” he sighs, “that’s the hard part.” 

You shrug, bumping him with his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around you, “I like our odds,” 

“Never question the odds,” and you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Dork,” you scoff, and he shrugs, smirking as he raises an eyebrow. 

“Well, you married a dork so—” you press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Touche,” you slip from his grip, as he holds onto you with the tips of his fingers, “I left my coat inside — I’ll be right back,” you brush him away, before slipping inside. 

The house was empty, everyone outside and getting ready to go — the shoes that had lined the entryway had dwindled, as you stepped through the foyer and living room, before finding your way to the kitchen. 

And then you see it. 

You pause before the wall of photos — the very same wall you had found yourself in front of the very first time you had come to the Carisi home. And now it was the first time since the wedding that you had come back. You toyed with the ring on your finger, the first time that this was your home too — because he was now. 

Officially, at least. 

And your eyes found his parents wedding photo again — his father in the tan suit he regretted, but looking as happy as he did each day. 

And he was right about one thing — it really was the happiest day of your life — your eyes slid over to your wedding picture right beside it — a picture of you and Sonny staring at one another, your fingers brushing against his cheek— 

“Sweetheart?” you heard Sonny call after you, “Bella is leaving? Are you coming?” 

“I’m coming,” you reply, grabbing your coat from the kitchen chair, before slipping back outside to say goodbye to the rest of his family. 

And so was every day that followed.

#sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi #sonny carisi fanfiction #sonny carisi imagines #svu #law and order: svu #Law & Order SVU #svu imagines #svu fanfiction #carisi imagines