#there's nothing he can do but stand there and take it even as he's shattering inside

[mxtantrights]

Can you write a Jason Todd x reader where they knew each other before he dies but then they reunite. Maybe they were robins at the same time. Y/n has element powers and their eyes change colors based on element currently using. They are afraid of having too much power. Established relationship please!!! I cannot handle slowburns

Broken Bird comes home

the night Jason died was the worst night of your life. The worst. No other night compares to it. Not the night after you spend in the fetal position and crying. Or the night after the funeral where there was no body. Or the night on the first anniversary of his death.

Night time is the worst for you. You just remember getting the calls from Bruce and your whole world shattering. Jason was more than your friend. He was your first crush, your first kiss, first relationship.

He used to do this thing when you two would hold hands on patrol. Your gloves covered your wrists so he would sneak his thumb inside of the leather and rub the inside of your wrist. Something about wanting to feel your pulse.

You had stopped being Robin about three months before you found out Jason died. You never really felt like you could be as good as Dick. And Jason was the only reason you stayed on as long as you did. But even that had it's caveats.

Bruce relied on you and your patience and understanding way more and tried to get Jason to model himself after you. Even though you tried to be more like him, less rule following and more march to your own beat and ask for forgiveness later.

But sometimes the two of them would put you in the middle of their endless tiffs. It drove you up the wall. And one night you just decided right then and there to stop being a Robin.

It's not until after the first year past Jason's death that you decide to go back on the streets to fight crime again. This time it's very different. You don't have anyone to answer to but yourself. And you have no one to look up to anymore.

You don't pull your punches. You don't think in black and white anymore. Everything is gray. And you operate in the areas that used to scare you.

It isn't long before Bruce reaches out, because he's been keeping tabs on you. He asks if you're sure about what you're doing. And he tells you that you're always welcome to come back, as yourself not as a Robin.

You respectfully decline his offer. You hated him the first eight or nine months after Jason's death. You hated how he wasn't there. You hated how that clown just walked free and continued terrorizing the citizens of Gotham.

You actually got to run into him once. Tracked him down, got him all by himself. And delivered a beating that brought him so close to the pits of hell that even you got scared. Bruce showed up then, told you it wasn't right. That you couldn't take justice into your own hands like that.

His words had no affect on you. You hated him for letting the clown go free like that. And you hated that he had a new Robin already.

It's probably not until the third year that you find your footing. You know how to operate as a vigilante. You don't get too mad when you see the new Robin anymore. And you talk to Bruce to check in and still decline his off to join his team.

In those two years you get better at controlling your powers. Yo hardly used them when you were Robin. And after Jason's death you over used them, packing a few punches that moved tectonic plates underneath your feet. This was a balanced way of using your powers. You were coming to understand them.

And then your world shatters again.

One night while on patrol, you notice your being followed. So you take a few turns to lose them. But they're pretty good. So you decide to corner them into an alley way. One where you can confront them.

In the dark you corner your tail. He stands a foot taller than you. All that you can really make out is that red helmet of his. Nothing else tells you about him. He's even using a voice modulator.

You ask him why he's following you. He doesn't answer. You tell him to back off. He doesn't answer. You, at your wits end, run ups o him and are about to deck him when he grabs a hold of your wrist.

You try to pull back but he holds you. It's not that tight. He's not hurting you, you realize. He's just holding you. When you look down at your wrist, you realize that he's touching you right where Jason did.

You wrench your wrist away from him and take a step back. You're about to haul off a bunch of curses at him when he starts speaking to you.

"You're pulse." he says.

Your spine goes straight at that. Jason used to say that, why is this guy saying that to you? You moves to take another step back but you don't. You look right at him.

"Jason?" you ask.

The man starts moving at light speed. All at once the helmet it coming off. You see a tuft of white hair amongst the black. And then he takes off his domino mask. You see it in his eyes. It's Jason, it's your Jason, but it's not.

"How is this possible?" you ask yourself, taking a few steps forward.

When the tip of your shoes meet his boots, and he doesn't move, you take it as a sign that he's okay with you being this close. You hesitantly reach up towards his face but you take your hand back. You don't notice the storm clouds you're forming. Not until the rain starts coming down.

"It's me." he says.

You can't help the tears that come out of your eyes. Or how you start sobbing uncontrollably. Jason wraps you up in his arms. You feel your whole body start to go slack in disbelief. He's real. He's alive, he's here.

"I'm sorry I made you wait." he says.

You wrap your arms around him tightly now, "You're back. You're really back."

You pull back from him a bit, he looks down at you. You can read the worry in his eyes. You reach up and cup his face. He lets out a strangled breath.

"I missed you so much."

a/n: I had to stop myself before it came a behemoth and I dragged you on for a slow burn. this was really fun to write. Especially the elemental part! thanks for sending this in !! <3333

#dc x reader #dc imagine #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd x reader #Jason todd fic #Jason todd #dc fic

[myname-isnia]

Nia stop making yourself sad over characters you deliberately made into shitty abusive assholes challenge (failed)

#yes it’s about Haya again #no I’m not writing I’m still taking a break #just thinking and continuing the fic about her in my head #and holy shit the direct aftermath of her mom’s death is genuinely making me tear up #the realisation that makes her heart shatter into a million pieces #her dad trying to assure her they’ll make it through this even if he’s shaking and holding back tears himself #five year old ghazan who’s too young and innocent to really get what’s going on #HER CRYING IN THE SAME CORNER OF THE SAME BED SUIREN CRIED IN AT THE END OF AIDIB CHAPTER 1 #i literally cannot handle it #and like. I hate her bc she’s the reason Suiren cried in that bed. she’s the reason my girls are the way they are #she knew what it was like to lose both parents in a short span of time and be left with nothing but a little sibling #and offered no care or sympathy #but when I imagine her as the 14 year old girl whose world is falling apart as she can do nothing but stand and watch #while holding her little brother #I can’t help but cry for her #:((

[kvtnisseverdeen]

after 9/11, my mom had her hijab ripped off her head. muslim-american communities were shattered due to the american government suspecting every muslim in america of terrorism and subjecting them to interviews and even deportation. i was in school afraid to embrace my religion because islam was being equated to terrorism. i was bullied for being a muslim and constantly called a terrorist. and let's not forget the millions of muslims that were killed and displaced because of the war on terror. MILLIONS.

it took years for muslims to feel "normal" again. of course, we still felt the uncomfortable stares and the subtle islamophobia. but it was so subtle. we almost forgot it was there.

and now, we're back to straight-forward, blatant islamophobia:

a 6-year-old muslim palestinian boy was stabbed 26 times

rashida tlaib is being censured and her colleague openly said 'all of them’ when a democrat asked how many dead palestinians will be enough?

van jones said to take a stand against muslims at a pro-israel rally

there were 1,283 reports of anti-arab and anti-muslim bias since oct 7 which is a 216% percent increase from last year

pro palestinian protestors are being called terrorists and terrorist-supporters

celebrities like amy schumer, brett gelman, karlie kloss, noah schnapp + more are spreading lies and propoganda against muslims

this is why its so frustrating to me when celebs like noah schnapp and amy schumer are sitting in there million dollar penthouses saying they're "scared." no, you have nothing to be afraid of. the world governments are clearly standing with YOU and protecting YOU. muslim women wearing a hijab are scared. muslim mothers and fathers are scared. muslims that can't openly practice their faith are scared.

muslims have been suffering in their own countries AND in america. we've always been afraid. how can we not when a muslim child was stabbed 26 times, simply because he was muslim? how can we not when people are asking to take a stand against muslims? how can we not when a genocide is happening and no one is doing anything to stop it?

#im heartbroken #thats all #islamophobia

[deadsetobsessions]

It takes a lot to break a ghost. After all, even death didn’t keep them down for long, not in any way that mattered.

There is, however, a sure fire way to utterly crush a ghost’s core without even touching it.

Find their grave, and defile it.

It is the height of cruelty. It is the ultimate act of disrespect. It is violation, of the deepest kind, an act that can never, ever be allowed to go unpunished.

As Danny stared at the remains of the toppled over rock tower that Tucker and Sam had made for him all those years ago, to honor his death, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.

——

Please.

Zatanna looked around. The magician knew better than to write off the sound as a trick of her mind.

You have to help him. Please. He’s just a child.

“Who? What’s wrong?” Zatanna asked, heart aching for the grieving whispers of the young voice.

My brother. His grave. It’s been destroyed. Please.

Zatanna’s hair stood on ends. “What’s his name? Where is it?”

Amity Park. His name is Phantom. Please. Hurry.

Her heart skipped a beat. Phantom. The name of the Infinite Realm’s Champion, the future king.

“Shit. I’m on my way. Can you lead me there?”

I can’t. I won’t be here for much longer. Tell him Jazz sent you. Please. Help him. Help him.

“I will.”

When Zatanna portals out of her dressing room, she catches a flash of red hair.

——

“CONSTANTINE!”

“Gah! Zatanna?” John Constantine fell out of his chair, legs slipping from their place propped onto the table.

“Emergency! Infinite Realms level. Someone destroyed Phantom’s grave.”

Constantine scrambled upwards, pulling on his coat as his mind all but bleated like a highland goat at the sound of “Infinite Realms” and “Phantom’s grave.” Destroying a ghost’s grave might destroy the ghost, but if they survive the initial splintering, right before their final death, they’ll explode in a ball of fury. Normally, it would be slightly less of a problem. Normally, it wouldn’t be the most powerful ghost in the Infinite Realms. Normally, this wouldn’t happen. Normally, even if it did, it wouldn’t risk a war none of the universes would win. The Infinite Realms loves prince Phantom. Their grief over this… even if he survives, the consequences would be unimaginable.

“You contact the League. I have to go fix this, right now.”

John doesn’t bother going for his hottle, because he unfortunately needed to do this sober.

“Go, go!”

——

Danny doesn’t turn even as he hears the crunch of grass blades. He sits, staring blankly at what used to be his grave marker.

“Hi, there,” it’s a woman. She sounds sad. Danny understands, because all he feels is a whistling hole where his heart used to be. “Are you Phantom?”

Danny sighs, ice crackling at his lungs. He knows, when this is over, he’ll find it in himself to rage. If he doesn’t shatter from this, he knows he’ll take Amity out. Perhaps he’d spare this one. It’s been a long time since anyone bothered visiting or even knew about his grave.

“Your highness…your sister sent me. Jazz?”

That got Danny’s attention. Glowing green eyes peeked from the curled ball of ghost to stare Zatanna down.

She swallowed.

“She… had red hair?”

“Why are you here?” Why did she send you? He doesn’t say. Zatanna seems to understand anyways.

“To help. Please, will you let me help?”

Danny looks down at the ice freezing her feet to the ground and thinks of the kind set of her eyes, the steel backing her spine, the carefully nonthreatening posture. Yes, Jazz would send this kind of person to help him.

The ice melts.

“Thank you.”

Danny watches as she approaches his destroyed grave. She glances back for his permission. He shrugs. It’s destroyed. Nothing would ever bring it back.

And then, he was proven wrong.

Zatanna’s eyes glow, and the stones began melding itself back together- no, it was reversing the damage and zooming back to its proper place.

“Oh.”

The damage to his core was still there. But… he won’t kill this one at all.

Or her friends, who stand at the edge of the clearing with the soul-torn one standing at the helm.

“Is this… alright, your highness?”

Danny stares at Zatanna. His voice is hoarse but… but it’s not on the verge of insanity anymore.

“Do you always come to graves without an offering?”

He knows he’s being rude. He’s past the point of caring. Zatanna’s response is to pull a bouquet of lilies from behind her back.

——

Phantom’s face is so young, and it’s even younger when he smiles.

“Not always,” Zatanna replies, rolling her eyes. But when she settles the flowers down, they’re gently placed.

“Can you magic clovers around it?” Phantom asks, that note of painful hope cracking her own heart. She wonders how old he was when he died.

“Of course.”

A field of clovers surrounds the rock tower, and Zatanna adds four layers of heavy wards around the area when she grows them. Phantom notices, and looks up at her with… trust.

“I am Zatanna. Your sister, Jazz, sent me.”

“Okay. You can call me Phantom.”

——

“I want their heads.” Danny says.

“We don’t kill.”

“Then hand them over to us, for they have hurt the Great One. They will answer for their crimes.” Frostbite settles a hand on Danny’s shoulder.

“Alright.”

“Constantine.”

Constantine somehow manages to drag Batman away to hiss in his ears.

“Shit in a hole, Batsy, I’m not fucking with the Infinite Realms. My demons won’t fuck with the Infinite Realms. Destroying a ghost’s grave is an act of war, and an act of complete violation, and we’re lucky Phantom liked Zee enough not to completely bring ruin to our universe. So shut up, and get the bastards that did this.”

“Hm.”

——

Zatanna sits in the visitors chair, Batman’s and Constantine’s disgruntled selves standing behind her.

“How old are you, Phantom?”

“Hm?” The future King looks exhausted, understandably. “Oh, sixteen.”

“You’re… sixteen? That’s how old you look, right?”

She’s hoping that he’s older, that he’s a millennia and a half years old. Because if he wasn’t, whoever broke Phantom’s grave, broke the grave of a child.

“No, I’m sixteen. My body looks fourteen. I died when I was fourteen.”

Constantine swears.

Batman straightens and walks out, fists clenched.

Zatanna eases the hum of hunting magic at her finger tips and smiles at Phantom until he sleeps.

Then, she gets up, and hunts.

#zatanna #danny phantom #dc x dp #batman #bruce wayne #the Justice League #john constantine #the consequences of destroying a final resting place #crisis averted #ghost prince danny

[orionremastered]

I’m actually so obsessed with the way you write the boys like🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

why thank you anon this made me smile

and because im nice (school hasn't started yet)

Masterlist

911 Texting the Batboys

Dick Grayson

Exactly one minute after you send him the text, the living room window shatters into a million pieces across the floor. Nightwing calls your name, voice raw with concern, before surveying the state of your apartment.

"Oh," you say quietly by the kitchen, staring at the broken pieces of glass across the floor and then at your boyfriend who stares at you, chest heaving as he looks at you, confused.

"You're not hurt?"

"Well— I— the pan caught fire. I put it out though. I'm not burnt, I promise."

He looks at you doubtfully, storming over before pulling you into a tight embrace. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"Don't be. It's okay. Don't be scared to text me if you're in any trouble. Promise you'll let me know if you're in danger?"

"I promise."

"Good," he mutters, though more as a reassurance for himself, resting his head on yours and breathing deeply.

"You can let me go now," you point out gently.

"Two more minutes."

Jason Todd

When your boyfriend takes longer to show up than expected, you start to get confused. And cold— it's the middle of winter and your hoodie was stolen while you were out with your friends.

And that wouldn't be a problem if you're car wasn't starting either.

The familiar roar of a motorcycle engine catches your attention, dark shape speeding down the street towards you. It skids to a stop, the tires screeching in order to slow.

"Hey," you say with a wave and a smile. "Car broke down and—"

Red Hood rushes off his motorbike, carefully grabbing you to look you over in the empty street. When he finds nothing, he sighs. "Thought you'd been kidnapped. Couldn't find you at your apartment."

Without waiting for your reply, he shrugs his brown leather jacket off his shoulders and places it around yours, helping you put your arms into the sleeves despite you protesting that you can do it yourself.

"Let's get you home," he says gruffly, aching to hold you in his embrace when no one can see. "I'll call in a favour to get your car fixed."

Tim Drake

You don't think you'd ever been more embarrassed in your life when you realised you forgot your phone, which has your card in the case, at home.

Tim rushes into the store, having tracked your location immediately and driving well over the speed limit, still in his pristine CEO outfit.

"What's wrong? Is someone bothering you?" his eyes dart around the store, taking everyone's face and putting it to memory.

"No... I forgot my phone and card. And I have a full cart of groceries. Tim, I can't put this all back, that's weird."

"Why didn't you ask me to pay before?"

"I— hmm. I'll do that next time."

You lead him to the counter were the high school aged cashier gapes at the richest man in Gotham who pays for the food without even glancing at the price.

Damian Wayne

When you texted 911 to your boyfriend, you certainly weren't expecting this. Somehow, in the five minutes of the text being sent, he managed to gather ten League of Assassins members that now stand in your suddenly very cramped apartment, sharp katanas at their side.

"Are you alright?" Damian himself has two katanas, glinting in the terrible lights. "What's wrong?"

It seems so stupid now with ten assassins behind him. Maybe you shouldn't have texted after all. "Look, it's really—"

"I don't care how little it is," he states, "You texted me for a reason."

"I... I thought I could hear someone talking and moving in the walls."

All eleven of them tense, exchanging glances. Damian gives them one sharp nod and the assassins begin locating any hollow spaces in the walls, tapping their knuckles and listening closely to the sounds.

"وجدت ذلك," one says after a few seconds.

"Don't worry about it habibi, we'll tear the building apart and find them," Damian assures you, pulling you into his arms.

#batfamily x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader

[kettlefire]

Booo-merang Trouble DP x DC Idea

Okay but leeching off the idea that Jason gives off an ecto-signature, and I probably saw a post about this somewhere. I just for the love of me can't find it. If anyone knows it, please link it so I can credit!:

Jason isn't even on patrol, he's visiting the manor. His chilling, eating away at lunch. He doesn't come to the manor often, but he always needs a dose of his crazy family every once in a while. There's no way he'd stay away from Alred's cookies for long.

Then boom, something shatters the window behind him. On instinct, Jason moves. Taking cover and trying to get a sight of the situation. Of the perceived attack. However, before Jason could do much a heavy object rams into his chest before landing on the ground before him. It doesn't really hurt, nothing compared to his prior injuries.

A boomerang. A glowing green and silver boomerang laid on the ground before him. Jason's a million and one ways confused as he stared at the device. His hands carefully picking it up, and looking over the softly beeping device.

Jason thinks maybe it's a bomb, but something in his gut says otherwise. He can think of a million different things it could be. Maybe one of the rogues got a hold of their DNA, and it tracked them. Maybe it's going to expel a gas any moment, an attack on the Waynes rather than their vigilante personas.

Except it's none of that. The beeping stops and suddenly a robotic voice sounds from the boomerang.

"Ghost located, prepare for your end ghoul."

Jason tenses once again at the clear threat in those words. His gaze scans around the kitchen, still crouched behind the kitchen counter. Except nothing happens.

Except for a voice ringing out from the boomerang once again. This time, this time it's not a robot. It's a clear record of a young woman speaking. Her voice filled with fear, concern, and urgency.

"Okay, this should work right? You know what, that doesn't matter. No one but you should have a signature. Beside's Tucker thinks he set this up to go to you only. So Danny, you should be hearing this..."

Jason only finds himself more confused. The urgency in this girl's voice was enough to keep his nerves on edge. It sounded important, but Jason had no clue who these people are. Who these names could be refering to.

"Danny... Things here aren't doing to good. Look, I know why you left. You have every reason to. What mom and dad did... It's unforgivable and I don't expect you to come back. But, thing is..."

There's a lull in the recording. The distant sound of soft chatting. If Jason strained his ears, he could somewhat pick of the sound of another woman and man.

"Everyone thinks Phantom is dead. Which I would think is a good thing, but it's not. Danny, the GIW is on a rampage now that you aren't here. Mom and dad are on their side..."

Jason made the conclusion that the speaker was this Danny's sister. The message was intended for him, yet it somehow landed in Jason's lap.

"They have everyone locked up in the school... Radars to see if anyone has a signature, and if they do... They separate them from everyone else."

Jason's brows furrowed, finally pulling himself to a stand. He placed the boomerang on the kitchen counter. Leaning forward as he took in the words.

"We don't know what they are doing. Sam, Tucker, and Valerie... We're all hiding. We'll have the highest signatures, and... Listen Danny..."

Jason had a growing pit in his gut. He knew something wasn't right. These people were in danger. It didn't matter he didn't know about what, or who the GIW was, but these people needed help.

"... We need you. We need Phantom, baby bro. I'm sorry, I know you're still recovering. We can handle things here, but please. Please tell me you're still alive, you're in Gotham right? Tell me you're safe, and you're healing and still kicking Danny."

Jason swallowed, placing his hands flat on the kitchen counter. He needed to get this down to the cave. Have the computer tracked where it came from. But Jason couldn't move, not at the sound of pure desperation in this woman's voice.

"I just need to know you at least made it out of this nightmare. I don't care how you do it, just please let me know things are okay... They have... They have Vlad, Danny. Things are complicated, and I hate to put this on you... But Amity needs Phantom..."

The recorded suddenly broke into static, but Jason thinks he got enough of what he needed. Amity. The place these people were was called Amity. It gave him a lead, something for them to work with.

"Da... We... Help... They..."

Jason could hear the woman's voice breaking through the static. He gripped the boomerang, turning on his heels and heading towards the cave.

"Sam... Mom... Tech... I..."

Every broken word only fueled Jason's own urgency. Jason felt a strange urge, a connection. Something that told him he had to help. They needed to help. The boomerang found him, and that had to mean something.

"... I love you, Danny..."

Those four words were the clearest compared to rhe rest of it. It made Jason's heart seize, and he took a breath. He was going to help.

It didn't matter if Jason didn't know these people. If they weren't from Gotham. This was important, and something told Jason he needed to find this Danny.

Danny would be the only one that would know that to do. If Jason manages to rewind the recording, he was certain Bruce would be equally on board.

That voice, the emotions that dripped from it. It gave the sense that this wasn't just life or death. This was a world ending problem.

And Jason would be damned if he ignored it.

#danny phantom #fandom things #fandom #multi fandom blog #fanfiction #dc x dp #dp #dpxdc #dc jason todd #jason todd #red hood #batfamily #the batfamily #danny phantom batman #dc batman #batman #bruce wayne #Jason has an ecto-signature #Danny ran away to Gotham to heal from parental trauma #Team phantom are the only ones that know this #so Tucker reworked the boomerang #Jazz recorded the message #and it was meant for no one else but Danny #whoospies #jazz fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #team phantom #guys in white

[nastybuckybarnes]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Simon Riley X Reader

Summary: Nothing shatters the tension of a fight quite like needing your boyfriend to rush home to save you from people who would do you harm.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Fighting, Fluff, Kind of mean!Simon but not too bad, very minor violence, home invasion, I think that's it...?

Word Count: 1.5K

A/n: we're gonna dip a toe in the COD water and see what happens. I love ghost and Konig so we'll see what else I do there. For any and all COD stuff, I use Canadian Military as a basis for the readers background.

~*~

"I've had enough of this. I'm not gonna argue with you about somethin' so stupid," he hisses, glaring at you with hard, cold eyes.

"It's not stupid, Simon, you just don't want to ever entertain the idea of talking about things that might make you slightly uncomfortable!"

"Oh fuckin hell." He drags a hand down his face and shakes his head.

"Everythin's always gotta end with you being right, doesn't it?"

You frown at his absolute lack of any sort of understanding or empathy.

"This isn't about me being right, this is about you at the very least hearing me out!" You try.

"You knew what you were getting in to the moment you met me, m'not sure what you're expecting of me now. S'not like I can go and change the way things are, now can I?"

You narrow your eyes at him and his blatant ignorance.

"I understand full well, Lieutenant. I've been there, which is something you seem to conveniently forget."

He lets out a humourless chuckle and shakes his head, "don't go put yourself in the same category as me now, lovey. You know you weren't exactly at my level when you served."

His words are a slap in the face.

Sure, you were never quite JTF2 or SAS level, but that doesn't mean your time in the military is any less valid than his.

Seven years of your life you devoted to serving your country, the medical help for teams like his, and all he can do is turn his nose down at it as if it means nothing to him.

"You know what? Fuck you, Simon. I never even insinuated that we were at the same level and for you to try and..." you stop, pinching the bridge of your nose as anger fills you.

"What? Got nothin' to say now? That's a shock."

It takes all your strength not to lash out at him and even more to stop your bottom lip from quivering at just how mean he's being.

Sure, he's always been a little rough around the edges, a little harsh and brazen, but never has he been so downright mean to you.

"Get out."

"What?" This seems to genuinely catch him off guard, his arrogance faltering for a moment.

"Get out. Leave."

Simon Riley isn't a man who gets scared. He's been chewed up and spat out of hell before. Nothing on Earth can get the jump on him and nothing can scare him.

At least, that's what he thought.

His palms tingle and he needs to grind his teeth together a few times to collect himself before speaking.

"So that's it then?" He asks, his deep voice barking the question like he would an order.

You two have had your fair share of fights in the time that you've been dating, even more since you moved in together, but none where he's thought you might end things.

"I'm not gonna stand here and take a verbal beating from you, Si. Get out and come back when you've had a chance to fucking cool off."

He stares at you for a long moment, testing your resolve, waiting to see if you really mean it.

When you hold his glare, not backing down, he grabs his coat, mask, and keys and storms out of the house without another word.

You stand there in the kitchen for a long moment, the silence ringing heavily in your ears before you storm up the stairs to take a shower and, hopefully, argue out all your hostility in private.

The warm water runs over your tense shoulders for a few minutes and you try your hardest to relax, to let the anger seep out of you and run down the drain, but when you hear the front door open you're filled with rage once more.

You stand in the shower silently, waiting for the door to open and close again, signalling his departure, but instead you just hear boots on the kitchen floor.

Scoffing and shaking your head, you start to seethe.

As if he's wearing his shoes in the house on top of everything else.

You yank the shower curtain aside and step out onto the mat, not bothering to turn the shower off.

A crash from the kitchen makes you freeze.

Simon is never this loud.

Like a deer on the highway, you stay still, silencing your breathing as you listen to the noises coming from the kitchen.

Instead of calling out to him and potentially causing more trouble, you take a silent step to the counter where your phone lies.

You grab it and hit his icon quickly, listening to it ring for a while before he sends you to his voicemail. A loud beep sounds tauntingly in your ear and you huff out an angry breath.

You hang up and call him back, grinding your teeth together when he sends you straight to voicemail again.

The noises in the kitchen continue, and your heart jumps into your throat.

Answer your phone, Simon.

You shoot the text off quickly then immediately call him again, your stomach settling when the call connects.

"Are you home?" You waste no time on pleasantries, and instead hear him sigh heavily.

"You told me to get the fuck out, didn't ya? Why would I be home."

Your breath hitches and you press your back to the bathroom door, turning the lock silently as panic fills you.

"Simon, someone's here."

The fear in your voice has his blood running cold, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as your fight gets shoved from his mind.

"What do you mean 'someone's here'?" He asks, his voice lacking the anger it had only moments ago.

"I heard the door open and I can hear someone in the kitchen."

You hear his tires screeching on the pavement and his engine roaring as he speeds home.

"Where are you right now?" This isn't Simon talking now. You recognize the change.

This is Ghost.

"I'm in our bathroom. Door locked and shower on."

"Good. Keep that water running. As long as they think you don't know they're there, you should be okay until I get home."

"Okay." You feel a little bit safer knowing he's on his way home.

"Keep me on the line."

"Okay."

There's a few seconds of just breathing before you speak again.

"How far are you?"

"Two minutes away."

"Okay... After you deal with these guys we can go back to yelling at each other," you whisper, wrapping a towel around your body and leaning against the wall across from the door.

He chuckles softly and the sound makes a small smile tug at your lips.

As much as he pisses you off and even sometimes hurts your feelings, deep down you know you'll never love anyone the way you love him.

You don't realize you've been quiet until he calls your name softly.

"You still with me, dove?" His voice is soft and you hear him turn the car off.

"I'm here."

"Good. I'm home now, don't come out of the bathroom 'till I come get you, understood?"

"Understood."

Sometimes living with Simon reminds you of being on base, and there are times when you despise it.

And then there are the times when you don't mind it as much. This is one of those times.

You hear the muffled sound of what must be him putting his phone in his pocket, and you close your eyes as you hear the soft click of the door handle through the speaker.

His footsteps are silent, even through the phone, and you feel ridiculous for ever thinking you'd hear it if he came home.

You can hear him as he takes down one intruder, and then what must be a second one.

He says nothing to them, that you can hear. But a series of dull thuds echo through the house before silence remains.

A few minutes go by of nothing, but you don't dare speak or open the door.

Ghost gave you an order, and you have no intentions of disobeying.

There are a few more moments of silence before you hear a crisp knock on the door.

"Lovey? You can open up now."

Breathing out a sigh of relief, you open the bathroom door and are immediately engulfed in Simon's strong arms.

He walks you backwards into the bathroom and squeezes you to his chest, mask hiked up over his nose so he can breathe in the scent of you.

"You all right, love?" He asks softly, his voice gruff and ever so rough.

"M'okay, Si. Thank you for coming home."

"S'my fault anyway. I shoulda locked the door before leavin' in a huff the way I did."

You frown and shake your head, pulling away to look up at him.

"This is in no way your fault, Simon. I could've easily locked the door after you. I'm just happy you got home in time."

Though you're not sure what the intruders really wanted, you're glad you didn't have to find out alone.

"I'll always come home."

And with those four words, he puts to rest not only the intruder situation, but also your argument from earlier.

Because he will. He'll always come home to you, regardless of what he needs to do, he'll make sure he comes home to you.

#simon Riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon Riley x reader fluff #simon x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #cod mw2 x reader #soap #price #gaz #fluff #angst #simon Riley fluff

[t-tomuras]

Best friends older brother Choso finding you in the kitchen getting a glass of water in the middle of the night in nothing but your underwear and his oversized knit sweater you thought you stole from Yuuji (bc what younger sibling doesn’t take the eldest’s clothes) to sleep in. Staying the night because it was ‘already so late’ and that they’ll give you a ride to uni in the morning.

Catching you standing on your tiptoes to reach a glass cup in the cupboard stored too tall this time around and he gets a nice view of the cheeky pair you wear and his throat goes dry.

Already feeling like a fuckin creep for how he feels about you, the lewd thoughts he lets pass because he knows it’s natural at the very least. Your his little brothers best friend, basically family at this point with how often you visit and spend time with Yuuji. Never gone so far as to needing to lock himself away in the guest bathroom to stroke his hard cock to the scene that plays in his minds eye.

Of him being the kind man you know him as and reaching the cup for you. Fingers brushing over yours, pelvis pressing you into the rounded edge of the counter top while one hand grips firmly at your hip. Thinks of how maybe you’ll make that cute little gasp that always happens when you’re startled or surprised the moment you feel him against you.

Will you look up at him with those pleading eyes that every man in this house is weak to? So willing to give you everything you want even if you don’t really ask for it? Would you want him the way he wants you? Long lashes fluttering closed when Choso uses the hand at your hip to grind the fat of your ass against his rigid length.

He thinks of how maybe you’ll lean forward until your forearms rest against the countertop, standing on your tiptoes again so he could feel more of you through his baggy joggers and the thin cotton covering your warm slit.

Fuck it’s gotta be tighter than the grip of his fist right now. He’d want to go slower than the quick and frenzied pace he has now, the one that causes the rest of his body to warm and a light sheen of sweat to collect on the nap of his neck and temple. Biting his lip hard to keep from groaning and altering you to his presence in the bathroom.

Imagining your sweet calls of his name, breathy sighs laced with pleasure. You’d sound so cute he knows it, you already sound so sinful when you say his name in innocent situations.

“Choso Choso Choso” fuck you’d probably pitch when he’d rut his hips to nudge at your clit after pushing the band of his sleepwear down and your panties to the side. Slick clicking because he knows he can make you feel good, he already takes care of you as much as he can. Or fuck if you let him slip inside and feel that divine heat like he imagines now. Fevered ruts nearly lifting you off your feet because he’ll have to angle himself to take you comfortably. He’s sick from the thought of a sweet keen of “chos-oh” at the feel of him. What he can do for you.

So close, almost there. Just a little more.

Before you knock at the door, and you sound just as innocent as you always do. As the fantasy that plays in his head does before it shatters but still he pumps his cock in his fist, “Choso? That you? Everything okay?”

Fuck, no? Everything’s not okay because you’re so close. Just outside the door, within arms reach, and his sacs already tightening with the need to cum. He’s almost there he can’t fucking stop now even with you standing outside.

“Yeah,” it’s a husk through grit teeth, panting breath and he’s almost there. Close close close fuck.

“Are you sure? You sound like you’re sick..” You’re so sweet, do you know that? So caring always, he knows it. His younger brother keeps good people. A talent for it obviously when he found you, when he brought you to him. The way you smile, the way you shine, everything. He’s euphoric, he’s painting his tight fist in pearly ropes with a relieved sigh to the thought of you.

Head lolling back against the door behind him as his hips stutter through the pleasure Choso knows pales in comparison to what you could offer. But it’s relief for now.

Collecting himself to tuck away his spent cock and open the faucet for the sound of running water to fill the space and hopefully put you at ease.

“Yeah, I’m alright, just fine,” he’d say perfect but that’d only be if he could be with you

#it’s just me and my delusions today #I debated being a degenerate but yk #choso x reader #vixen thirsts

[inthedoghousern]

i miss you, i'm sorry

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: you and lando break up and a few months later he wants to talk. inspired by "i miss you, i'm sorry" by gracie abrams.

contains: angst

1.9k words

from: lando (1 new message) december 4, 11:07pm

hey, i'm back in uk for a bit.

You stare at the text for who knows how long. A lump forming in your throat. You had spent hours crying over him. You had spent hours moving back to the UK from the Monaco flat you shared. A text from your ex was the last thing you needed right now.

to: lando december 4, 11:31pm

okay.

A few minutes go by and you get no response. But then your phone lights up with an incoming call, it’s Lando. You stare at it for a few seconds, letting it ring. But you do pick up.

“What do you want.”

Your ex was quiet for a few seconds before he simply replied “I’m just calling to ask how you’re doing.” After this, he was silent for yet another short moment.

“I miss you.”

“Lando…” you trail off. “This isn’t fair.” He was the one who broke things off in the first place. You've been destroyed for weeks, and now just starting to get yourself together.

“I know, I know this is my fault… but just hear me out…” Lando began, but there was a hitch in his voice. He remained silent after this and you could hear his quickening breaths.

“Please… I want us to work this out.”

You're silent for a few moments. “What, you want to just pretend nothing happened? Lando, I don’t think you understand what you’ve been putting me through.”

Lando was silent once more. There was no way he could expect you to instantly forgive him. Your trust in him was shattered and your heart was stomped on.

“No, I don’t want to pretend like everything is fine, it’s not and I know that… please, I just need some time with you so we can talk, that’s all I ask.”

You bite the inside of your lip. This is a bad idea. Hearing his voice is already breaking your heart over and over again. Seeing him might just break you entirely. “I don’t know…”

Lando was still quiet, seemingly thinking about your response. After several seconds, he spoke again.

“Can I come over?”

Again, you're silent for a few moments.

“Fine.”

“I’ll be there soon…” Lando tells you and hangs up.

-

You hear the doorbell ring. You walk over and open the door.

Lando was standing before you dressed in a black hoodie. His curls were messy and you could tell from the way he had his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, that he was nervous.

You open the door wider and move to the side. Not saying anything out loud, but telling him to come in.

Lando stepped into the house and the silence between you two was deafening. He removed his hands from his pockets and glanced around, he had never been inside your new place before. Eventually, his eyes settle on you.

You two don't say anything for several seconds, but the tension in the air is suffocating. This is the first time you have seen each other since the day he broke up with you.

-

Past: August 8th, Monaco.

“Lando, what are you talking about?” Tears are welling up in your eyes and you're trying your best to keep your voice steady.

“This just isn’t working,” he responds. He won’t even look at you.

“Lando,” you plead. “This is out of nowhere, you have to see that.” You take another step towards him, he’s still not making eye contact with you and he doesn’t respond.

“Please just tell me what’s wrong. What can I do?” You're grasping at anything. “Lando look at me.” You gently grab the sides of his face and try to meet his eyes.

Lando finally met your gaze but he wouldn’t hold it for long.

“Neither of us is happy.” Lando’s voice had a hard edge to it, it was clear that he was struggling to keep his voice from breaking.

You let go of him and pull back. His response sends you over the edge, your tears are uncontrollable now.

“What are you talking about?” you sob. “Lando, what is this really about? Don't do this.”

Just the other day you were smiling, tangled up with one another. He was whispering sweet nothings in your ear, you did the same back. Everything was perfect. Everything has been perfect for days, weeks, months, years. He said himself everything is perfect. He said himself that he loved you.

“It has to be like this okay?” Lando replied, his voice cracked with emotion. He was clearly trying to keep himself from crying.

“Then explain! Tell me why. Lando, please we can work this out.” Your voice is shaking and tears are still pouring out of your eyes.

The look on his face is blank, he doesn't know what to say. He couldn’t keep looking at you, it was clear he was trying to keep his composure.

The two of you stand opposite of one another, not moving until Lando finally speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

He says nothing else. You both stand in silence, tears streaming silently from your eyes. They start to fall from his too. “I’m sorry? That’s it?” you finally say in a low voice, with a small hint of anger.

“3 years you’re destroying just like that, and the only thing you can give me is an I’m sorry?”

Lando looks down at the floor, avoiding eye contact with you.

You shake your head and rub your eyes. This can’t be real. “Oh my god,” you choke out with a laugh. A scoff? You're in disbelief. You're pissed. You're devastated.

Lando remained silent. He can't bring himself to respond to you as he knows nothing he can say would make this situation any better. He was a mess of emotions himself, he could feel his head spinning.

You just stand and look at him. Eventually, you turn away and start grabbing your stuff. Essential items at least. You don’t want to start thinking about getting the rest of your stuff out of this flat. Your life that’s accumulated in this space over the past 3 years.

Lando remained silent, he was lost in his thoughts, thinking about what he had just done.

-

Present: Glastonbury, December.

Lando stands in front of you, feeling overwhelmed with guilt and remorse for what he had done.

He broke your trust, he crushed your heart, and now, he's shown up at your doorstep, wanting to talk to you.

You walk into the kitchen and lean against the counter. He follows you, standing in the doorway, watching you.

He knows he shouldn't have come here. He knows he doesn't deserve a second chance with you after how he treated you.

Lando looks at you, his heart aching, wishing he could simply hold you close right now.

“So?” you finally ask.

Lando was silent for a few seconds, looking into your eyes with deep sorrow.

“I…” Lando stumbles over his words momentarily, trying to find the right thing to say.

You don't wait for him to find it.

“Am I ever going to get an explanation? Why you did it.” You can feel tears forming and you're trying your best to hold them back. He’s been here for all of 5 minutes.

The two of you stand in silence, with neither of you wanting to speak. Finally, Lando takes a deep breath.

“I was a mess,” Lando began slowly. He looks at you, his gaze fixed on yours. You could see the sadness in his eyes, he was clearly struggling with his emotions again.

“Racing was pulling me in all different directions. I was losing grip on that balance we had." Lando’s voice was shaky. He couldn’t help but feel like he had made a horrible mistake by ending things and letting you walk out of his life.

“I was overwhelmed, I don't know. Everything just fell apart and I had to choose. You were never anything but supportive. It’s my fault.”

You bite the inside of your lip again. You're really trying to stop yourself from crying. “That’s not good enough.” You cross your arms across your chest. “We-“ your voice breaks. "...We could've talked about it. If that's how you were feeling, we should've talked about it."

“I know that’s not enough…” Lando begins, “There’s so much I want to say… please, just hear me out. I know you must hate me right now but… I still love you.”

You break. The tears start flowing from your eyes because of his last statement. You quickly bring one of your hands to your face, trying to brush the tears away.

Seeing the tears stream down your cheeks immediately makes Lando take a step towards you. He doesn’t hesitate. He takes your hand in his, removing it from your face and wiping the tears off for you.

Finally, his eyes meet yours again, and without saying more, Lando pulls you into a close embrace.

You start sobbing into his shoulder. You've missed him so much. It's like you've had an unhealable wound ever since the day he completely ripped himself out of your life.

Lando holds you tightly, pressing his cheek against your head, and wrapping his arms around you. He could feel your body shaking with your sobs, he had never felt so much guilt before.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

You don’t know how long it's been when you pull away. Your eyes meet once again as Lando grabs your face, his thumb running across your jawline.

“I ruined us. I know that. But please, it’s the biggest mistake I’ve ever made,” he says low.

You don’t know what to say. He’s holding you the way you tried to hold him that day. But now you're the one with no words.

You should get more of an explanation. You deserve more of an explanation. But his hands are cradling your face, and you look into his eyes and you want to get lost in them. You want to cry even more.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you finally get out.

Lando could see the emotion in your eyes, your voice was cracking, your entire body seemed on edge. He wanted nothing more than to simply hold you close.

Before any words leave his mouth, Lando presses his lips against yours. The kiss was passionate and deep, he didn’t care that this wasn’t exactly the right moment, he wanted to finally feel you again.

The kiss tastes salty from your tears. But you kiss him back. Maybe you shouldn’t.

You continue to kiss, neither of you wanting to stop, letting your emotions take over as you feel a familiar level of comfort with one another. You both feel a sense of relief at this moment like a weight has been lifted off of you.

You could feel Lando’s heart beating against yours as he continued, one hand on your face, the other on your back, pulling you closer.

When you break the kiss, Lando pulls away slightly, just enough so that the two of you could lock eyes. You both seem to be in an emotional daze as Lando’s hand runs from your face to the back of your neck.

“Can I stay?” he whispers to you, his voice sounding shaky, but you could hear the pleading in it.

You nod as your eyes travel all over his face. You don't want to look away, you're scared if you do he'll disappear again.

Lando kisses your forehead and pulls your body closer, the two of you still in an embrace.

You feel the weight of his body against yours and you sink into him, feeling all of the comfort you missed. Lando was feeling the same thing, not wanting to let you go, not wanting to let this moment end.

You know there's so much more to talk about. So much more he needs to explain. But right now it can wait. Right now, you just want to be with Lando. Right now, he just wants to be with you.

#lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #ln4 #mclaren f1 #Spotify

[mrs-weasley-reid]

Say Don't Go

Spencer Reid x bau!reader

Summary: Nothing hurts more than the fear of losing you.

Warning: Angst. mentions of death, blood, gunshot

A/N: I wrote this in haste, literally ten minutes ago, while listening to Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version) by mother Taylor Swift. It's definitely not perfect but I was definitely in the zone when I wrote it lol.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

A gunshot.

Everything fades into a muffle. You blink once, twice, thrice... A wince connects your brows. As if you're figuring out if the oozing feeling on your abdomen should be causing you pain or ease.

Suddenly, Spencer's running to you. You think he's screaming. You hear nothing. There's only ringing in your ears. A thin, high-pitched ring that pierces through your brain.

You drop on the precinct's carpet floor, caressing your stomach like it's enough to stop yourself from bleeding out. You look at Spencer, "When'd you get here?" You ask, disoriented. You instantly pay attention to his watery eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" You reach to cup his cheek. You are shocked when you see your hand covered in red, smearing the liquid on his skin. Your eyes widen, "Oh, my god?! You're hurt! Spence—" You try to sit up, but a wave of stinging pain makes you fall back in his arms.

"WHERE'S THE MEDIC?!" Spencer's voice echoes in the entire place. He turns to you, unsure if he is even allowed to have you in his arms. He doesn't dwell on it as he holds your hand on his cheek, squeezing it. "Hey, hey! Breathe for me, yeah? Stay with me." He swallows a sob, placing pressure on your abdomen. "Please, stay with me..."

"I'm hurt?" Stupor begins to steal you out of consciousness. You blink. A bright light blinds your vision.

Once you open your eyes, you're back in Spencer's apartment. He's standing across the room while your feet are rooted at the door. He doesn't look at you. No. He's afraid to look at you.

His hands are buried in his pockets. He's wearing a nice suit. Fitted just for him. His tie is a dark shade of purple. You gave him that tie for his birthday last year. It's loose. His hair is a mess. And his face... it's wet.

He's crying.

You're crying.

"I think you should go," Spencer takes a gulp as he stares at the floor. Like it'd kill him if he looked at you.

You inhale deeply, sniffing as you wipe a tear with the back of your hand, "We don't have to do this, Spence. You don't have to do this."

"Yes, we do!" For the first time in what feels like forever, he finally lifts his gaze at you. His hazel eyes are rimmed with red heat, overflowing with tears. He's hurt. He's hurt, too.

"Is it really that horrible to love me?" You sob. You can hear your heart slowly shatter. Pins and needles knock on your chest. You wonder if you're still breathing right. "Am I that ugly—"

"You know that's not true, sweetheart." You hate that the nickname gives you butterflies. How his words, awful and insensitive, still made you attentively listen. How his voice still makes you want to hear more. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met."

"Then why?!" You felt like a child throwing a tantrum. "Why are you putting a distance between us?" You bite your lower lip to stop it from quivering. "Why is it such a crime to be together?"

Spencer shifts his gaze to somewhere else. He runs a hand through his hair. You notice the coffee stain at the cuff of his sleeve. Then, you see the smudge of red lipstick past the line of his lips. Your red lipstick. He bought that lipstick a few months ago. No reason. Just for the fun of it.

Is it bad that you think he still looks handsome under the sun's setting light? Even when his hair is arrayed in different directions? Even when his face is drenched with his own tears?

He breathes deeply, audibly, "We're in the same line of work. You know better than to think we're going to work. News flash, sweetheart. It won't. It's not worth it." He can't look at you. He's ashamed to look at you.

"Not... worth it?" You blink. You stare at him with disgust, "So— So what? We're nothing, but we fuck? We're nothing, but we flirt? We're nothing, but you love me? Please, explain it to me because I'm having a difficult time understanding the stupid shit of a point you're making."

Spencer gulps for the nth time, "You love me."

"What?" You regret wanting to meet his eyes because now that he's staring at yours with such unfamiliarity, it hurts.

"You love me. You said you love me. I never said anything."

You're definitely not breathing right.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"Inhale, exhale... Yeah, that's right, sweetheart. Just follow me." Spencer holds your hand tight as the paramedics do their best to stop you from bleeding out. His voice sounds heartbreaking.

His voice...

You blink. Your hearing's back. You do as he says, inhaling and exhaling as he does. You feel lightheaded, like you're floating on a cloud.

Spencer keeps his and your hands intertwined. He follows while the paramedics roll you into the ambulance. "Hang in there, sweetheart. Please, hang in there." His face is a mess. He doesn't stop crying, swallowing his sobs.

You smile into the oxygen mask, blinking. You're on the verge of dying, and yet you find humor in knowing Spencer's tells. "You swallow when you're scared... don't be scared, Spence." You say it in broken words and in an almost soundless voice.

"I'm not," He denies, wiping his tears aggressively. He is. He's scared to the bone.

"The bullet shattered to her chest," The paramedic who inspects your chest claims, looking at her partner with worry.

"W-what?" Spencer stutters, stealing a glimpse down your neck. "No, no, sweetheart. Stay with me. Stay with me." He sees the way you flutter your eyes, fighting to stay conscious, listening to his pleas. And how you suddenly stopped, never opening your eyes back up. "Don't— Don't close your eyes! Sweetheart, please don't go. Please, don't—" He looks up at the sound of your vitals plummeting. He quickly looks back at your face, saying your name like it's a prayer.

The machine flatlines, and the paramedic pushes Spencer aside to perform resuscitation. "Sir, let us do our job." One of them says, two inches deep as she manually restarts your heart.

Spencer shoves himself in the corner of the ambulance. He wraps his arms around him. "Please, don't go..." His voice cracks and transitions into writhing sobs as he watches your body go limp with each surge of electricity that shocks your skin.

Then he thinks of that night.

He thinks of the image of you standing by the door. You don't want to go. He doesn't want you to go.

But you have to... because if you don't, he'll run to you and never let you go. So, he tells you to leave. You protest.

So stubborn. He cries in his head, wishing that you hadn't made things difficult for being so beautiful even when you're crying.

"You love me. You said you love me. I never said anything." His body shakes on the spot. His mouth goes dry. His chest compresses. He lies through his teeth.

Spencer saw the way your face turned into a ghost. He's done it.

He broke you.

He hurt you.

No turning back. No way of fixing it.

"Ah..." You say softly, nodding. "Checks out." You add without a sign of sarcasm. You stare into the air for a minute. You let the silence hover and hunt Spencer for a moment. You let him realize the pain, the stupidity of it all. "I think I should leave..." Your eyes say otherwise.

Please say, "Don't go." Tell me not to leave. Run to me... please.

You wonder if he knows it or chooses to ignore the way you held your tears. If he caught on all your tells. Because you knew he wasn't true. You knew he knew that you could read him like the back of your hand.

"Yeah," Spencer straightens his back, "I think you should."

You purse your lips into a thin line and nod, "Okay," You turn around. You take three seconds to grab the knob, but when the time has run out, you are out in a heartbeat.

"Spencer."

JJ appears in Spencer's vision. "Spencer, are you okay?" Her face was covered with worry as she placed two hands on his shoulders. She exchanges looks with Derek and Aaron.

They were there when it all went down. When the unsub came out of nowhere and started shooting. You were the first shot.

Spencer cranes his neck around. He's in the waiting room. He doesn't remember when or how he got there. All he remembers is the defibrillator jolting your unresponsive body more than once. His eyes widen. He says your name in haste as he stands up, "Where is she? Where— Where..."

Derek holds him back, "She's in surgery, Reid. Did you forget?" He asks, gently pushing Spencer back onto his seat.

"She was dead for three minutes... They couldn't find a pulse for three minutes." Spencer announces at a loss. He looks down at his hand, at the cheap friendship bracelet around his wrist. The one you made in your first year with the team as a last-minute birthday gift. He breaks into a sob, covering his eyes as if to push them back inside his tear ducts.

"So?" Derek catches Spencer's hands off his face, "She's been in surgery for thirty minutes. Her heart started beating again, and it had been for thirty minutes. She's fighting, man. At least fight with her before you wallow like a ninny."

"Morgan," Aaron warns but silently agrees.

You're fighting for your life, so they should, too.

You're not ready to go.

You don't want to go.

Spencer nods and wipes his face. He sniffs and takes a deep breath. He glances at the door to the operating room like he has x-ray vision, "Don't go."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminalminds #ssa spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencerreid #fem!reader #cm #spencer reid angst #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you

[reiding-writing]

hi red !! i'm sending through a rec for your climacteric event hehehehe <3

spencer reid x fem!reader with the colour prompts red 1 ("You're bleeding."), green 2 ("You're safe here, I promise."), and purple 1 ("You know you're my best friend, right?") please? LOVE YOU LOADS RAHHHH

SCARECROWS [CLIMACTERIC]

1. “You’re bleeding.”

2. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

1. “You know that you’re my best friend, right?”

WARNINGS: reader injury, blood duh, mentions of being stabbed <3

spencer reid x reader || hurt/comfort || 1.6k || event page!!

a/n: you adding the direct quotes made my job so much easier in finding them rip 😭 thanks for the request ml <333

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ event masterlist!!

Sometimes you wondered why you joined the FBI.

If by making one different decision you’d be in a completely different career in a different part of the country with a husband and children living in a two story house with a white picket fence.

Spencer would probably fill you in on the butterfly effect, how a single flap of a butterfly’s wings could change the trajectory of the wind and spin into a tornado, or in your case, leave you stranded and unarmed in an overgrown cornfield with your only company being the crows flying overhead.

It was arguably, definitely, your fault, but what were you supposed to do when the unsub was running off into the night after you’d finally tracked him down.

He’d slipped under the radar for too long, you weren’t going to let it happen again.

Though you weren’t going to lie, you were starting to regret not waiting for the rest of the team.

How were you supposed to know that the welfare check you were sent on would turn into a chase?

They were twelve minutes out last time you checked. You didn’t have signal anymore, who knew how close they were now.

All you knew was that you were a sitting duck with an empty magazine in an unfamiliar location with a light level so low you could barely see your own feet.

You’d lost the unsub a good few minutes ago, and you weren’t about to stand around with nothing to protect yourself with, so you started running back the way you came, hopeful that it would bring you out back at the farmhouse, with floodlights and a phone signal.

You weren’t that lucky.

You never were.

—

“Oh my god—“ Emily sounds like she’s seen a ghost as she cups her left hand over her mouth, her right lowering to her side until her gun is limply resting in her fingers.

Her face is a mix of relief, astonishment and absolute horror, and as the team follow her gaze they mirror one by one until the whole group is frozen in abject shock.

You were alive, thank god, but you were also stumbling backwards out of the corn field like a final girl in a horror movie, completely disheveled and torn up with your attention completely focused on the rows of stalks in front of you like you were afraid something was going to pop out and finish you off.

The sight was enough for Spencer to feel like he was going to throw up his stomach, although whether out of relief or anxiety he wasn’t exactly sure.

Either way he was pocketing his gun and practically sprinting in your direction the second he got a full view of you, no care for what you were running from in his mind whatsoever.

At least you were okay.

“Hey-” His hand barely grazes over your shoulder before your instincts kick in and you swing your elbow outwards with the intent of sending it straight into his face.

It hits him directly underneath his nose, sending his neck back sharply to stop any worse injury occurring under the force of your arm.

It doesn’t deter him though, and he doesn’t so much as even cover his nose from the pain as he takes your arms in his hands to swivel you in his direction so that you can see that you aren’t in danger.

“Hey- Hey, it’s just me you’re okay, you’re safe here I promise,”

The flicker of absolute terror in your eyes makes him swear his heart is going to shatter, and even as he watches it fizzle out under the realisation that he wasn’t someone to be afraid of that small pit in his stomach didn’t disappear.

You looked bad.

Your hands were grazed and raw, you were covered in mud, half of your shirt had been ripped from the hem and tied around your left thigh — presumably as some sort of makeshift bandage, and you were so much paler than you usually were, all of the colour completely drained from your face until you looked almost translucent under the mix of moonlight and blared foglights.

“You’re bleeding— Did I do that? I’m sorry—” You reach up your hand towards and he swerves to take it in his own with a shake of his head, clasping his fingers gently around your shaking palms, careful not to irritate the angry red covering them.

“Don’t worry about me, are you okay? What happened?” His eyes roam anxiously over your frame, lingering specifically on the torn piece of fabric around your thigh that is slowly but surely turning from a charcoal grey to a dark maroon the longer you stand talking.

“I- He ran and- and I followed him and then I lost him and- I don’t- He doubled back on me and I didn’t-” Half of the words coming out of your mouth were almost completely incoherent, and he could see your pupils refusing to dilate even under the direct beam of one of the SUVs’ headlights.

“Okay okay, calm down, take a breath for a second,” Spencer gives your arms a small squeeze to cut off your attempt at an explanation, glancing over your shoulder where the team is still grouped together, with Morgan and Hotch on the phone — presumably for an ambulance and some backup respectively— and the others watching you cautiously, unsure whether they should join in on Spencer’s examination of your health.

“How did you hurt your leg?” You follow Spencer’s gaze downwards towards your thigh, and it’s like the second your eyes recognise what it is you completely loose control of all of your motor functions from waist down.

“Woah—” Spencer takes the sudden change in your weight distribution in his stride, or at least he tries to, shifting his arms underneath your armpits to stop you from hitting the ground underneath you and supporting your weight with his own as he stumbles a few steps backwards. “Guys—”

Emily is at your side immediately, alleviating some of your weight onto herself so the two of them can hold you upright.

“He had a weapon…” You wince under the searing pain in your leg, the adrenaline wearing off fast and hard now that your body knows it’s no longer in danger.

“What kind of weapon?” The concern seeps from Spencer’s voice to soak into your skin, leaving your heart to accelerate under the knowledge that you were injured bad.

“A uh… fork, like a gardening fork… He stabbed me with it…” Although more coherent now, your voice was slowly fading into small mutters and whispers, like the exhaustion in your body was catching up to your mind and making even your tongue too languished to move. “I’m really tired…”

“Hey no- not yet-” Emily shakes her head with a conviction. “There’s an ambulance on the way, you have to stay awake until then,”

“But…”

“Emily‘s right, stay awake you’ll be fine,” Spencer sounds like he’s more trying to convince himself than you as him and Emily support your weight back towards the cluster of SUVs, and the added weight of your head resting against his shoulder doesn’t help his anxiety whatsoever. “Hey, come on…”

He lifts his shoulder slightly to shift your head and you let out a soft noise of discontentment. “I’m awake I’m awake, just conserving my energy…”

“Just keep your eyes open okay?”

You give him a small hum as the two of them sit you down on the hood of one of the cars, and Emily leaves you in Spencer’s care to check with Morgan on the arrival of the ambulance.

“You know that you’re my best friend, right?” You turn your head a little further into Spencer’s shoulder as he becomes the sole pillar of your support, blinking slowly in an attempt to keep your eyes open.

“Don’t say that to me right now,” He shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, a dark line forming between his eyes as the skin pinches together in his worry.

“But you are though,”

“You can remind me of that after you’re in the hospital,”

“I hate hospitals,” You let out a small, fatigued huff, rolling your eyes at the prospect. “I’m gonna be in there for god knows how long and I just wanna find this guy before he hurts anyone else…”

“Well, he has hurt you, and that’s what’s important right now,” Spencer’s tone contradicts itself between concern and relief. You’re alive, but you’re not in good shape. “We need to make sure that you’re okay before anything else,”

And in an act of holy divination — or just coincidence if Spencer was concerned — right as he mentions making sure that you’re okay the blaring lights of the called ambulance come into view, joined by a shrill, sharp ring that seems to echo over the field.

You all but hobble over to it once it’s parked, successful only in the fact that Spencer is actually supporting more of your weight than you were.

At least he stays by your side the entire time.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #mgg #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #climacteric 🪶

[magicalmanhattanproject]

okay so like. it's important to me that fit's prosthetic arm Fucking Sucks. there are prosthetics in mcyt settings that function almost identically to the limbs that they replace and his is Not One Of Them. it's a simple design he came up with himself that he usually makes out of diamond and wool painted grey to look like more durable steel models but he can make it out of wood and leaves if he has to (and he has)

it's important to me that it's ruthlessly practical. it has exactly two purposes. 1) keep people from realizing he's actually disabled by his disability and 2) hold totem. he's lucky that in 2b that's not much cause to be doing anything else with your offhand so the illusion doesn't need to stand up to much scrutiny

it's important to me that fit's prosthetic arm is dangerous. not in the sexy way, pac. it has two functions. hold and release. on and off. it's not made for holding a child or a lover. it's meant to hold a totem that can only be broken by death. the only two pressure options are nothing or bone-shattering.

it's important to me that this is a realistic fear he has. it's important to me that he teaches ramón and ramón teaches the other eggs to always approach him from the right side. it's important to me that phil already knows to. it's important to me that bad always positions himself between fit's arm and any eggs and fit notices and fit is more grateful than hurt because better two lines of defense than one.

it's important to me that he refuses any new prosthetics. the one he has works. it does its job. he does his job. he doesn't want a prosthetic he doesn't know how to service himself. he loves ramón. he trusts ramón. it's him and ramón against the world. and it's important to me that for all the long, bitter fights ramón had about how he could make fit an arm that's a thousand times better than the one he has, there's part of ramón that's grateful he knows fit has both his arms to deal with whatever comes after him when they're separated. fit certainly wouldn't accept an arm from any of the other genius engineers around him.

it's important to me that fit has genuine and well grounded reasons to be afraid of trying to touch someone without the intention of hurting them. he's lucky that ramón isn't a touchy kid (it's important to me that ramón could have been a touchy kid) but he has no idea how to go about touching a lover.

it's important to me that pac can't even touch the metal hand without fit flinching away like he's been burned. its important to me that fit doesn't think he's capable of anything except destruction. it's important to me that fit is trying to take baby steps and the whole time all he can think about is the part of his body that's physically unable to do that.

it's important to me that fit builds good things anyway

#sorrelposting #qsmp #qsmp fit #qsmp analysis

[serene-destruction]

(Platonic) Reactions To Finding Out You're In Hell For Killing Your Abuser [Angel, Lucifer, Alastor, Vox]

TW: Mentions of childhood sexual abuse | Cannon typical violence | Mentions of suicide

A/n: this one is really dark so reader discretion is greatly advised. Read at your own risk.

Word Count: 4.5k

Angel Dust

You and Angel Dust likely met at the hotel. You were a newer resident of hell that just so happened to be spotted by Charlie and taken in after wondering the streets.

He didn't take to you right away, considering he had his own issues to deal with. Not to mention that you were such a goody two shoes that it kinda made him feel even worse about himself. Despite his name he knew he was far from any angel and your presence only exemplified that.

By all accounts you seemed to save your shit together. A drug free, pure and kind person, through and through. You never faltered. So it takes a while for him to even stand being in your presence, longer to actually try and talk with you. He hates that he doesn't find something to hate about you. Just so damn perfect.

He should have known better, truthfully. No one gets sent to hell off a whim, there were reasons. He was just so blinded by your purity at first that he doesn't see it. He isn't the only one, either. Charlie would be the first to use you as an example of purity.

But all the same the two of you do end up getting close to each other. You may be a bit straight-laced for his taste, but he can't help but grow attached. You're a good kid, you really don't deserve to be here.

It only takes one night for his perceptions of you to shatter

It started with one of Charlie's trust games. You were all meant to share what sins brought you down here. In a place like hell that wasn't usually a very taboo subject. Murder, drugs, sex, Angel's heard it all. But despite that assurance you wanted absolutely nothing to do with the exercise. You had locked yourself in your room, refusing to participate. So while the others went on ahead Angel decided he'd talk to you.

“Kid! C’mon, it can't be that bad!”

“I don't want to!” You were adamant. He should have known it right then

“Kid…look, can ya at least let me in? I'm tired of yelling through the door!” He pleaded and, to his surprise, you did. Your eyes avoided him completely as you allowed him to step in the room. Even when the two of you sat down on your bed you didn't budge. You looked almost as terrified as the first day you came here.

“Look, I get that admittin’ what you done can be a bit…embarrassin’ sometimes,” he's tries to calm you.

“But none of us are perfect and you ain't any different. Hell, it might even be good for you” his attempt at comfort didn't seem to be working. In fact he might have made it worse, given how you turned further away from him.

“It’s not just because it's embarrassing! I- I just don't want to tell everyone!” you answer through a tightening voice. There's a pause as Angel considers your words before he speaks again.

“Then you don't gotta tell everyone. You can just tell me” He was surprised when the offer had you turning back to him, though your discomfort was still evident. You didn't say anything at first but eventually you found the words.

“...Promise you won't tell anybody?” he fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was sure you were being overdramatic. You probably told a little lie that got out of control or accidentally kicked a puppy or-

“Promise” he answered anyway.

And so you told him

“I…I was tired of him touching me” Angel’s stomach immediately drops at just those few words. All of his previous downplaying caused an explosion of guilt within him.

“He was always touching. Every day since I was little. Every time he was over, every time I was alone. I couldn't- I…I just wanted it to be over”

He knew where this was going.

“I-I snapped. I just couldn't take it anymore. Eighteen fucking years” your voice is a mix of rage and pain, a sound he didn't think you capable of until now.

“I'd never been so angry. I didn't- I didn't know what I was doing until it was over. There was blood everywhere- I killed him and…and I couldn't live with myself. I'd never done something like that before! I'd never hurt anyone! I couldn't live with that- I couldn't-”

Before you can spiral any further you feel Angels hand land on yours. With slow, purposeful movements he pulled you into his arms. You freeze for a moment, caught entirely off guard by the sudden comfort. He was careful not to hold you too tight and keep his breaths steady. Keep himself predictable.

“S’okay kid…You didn't do a damn thing wrong” his whispered words break through your shock, melting you into a pile of sobs in his arms, gripping onto him like your very soul depended on it.

After that night the two of you quickly become known for your fierce protectiveness over each other. Angel swears that if he ever sees the bastard he'll rip him a new asshole before shoving a spike in it.

Lucifer Morningstar

You were one of many assistants to Lucifer, helping him with the many tasks he doesn't ever keep up with as the king of hell. You are most likely ignored and/or forgotten about for a while. He is far too, uh…busy for remembering much of anything, let alone names and job titles.

However you do manage to catch his eyes when he finally notices your apparent lack of any sort of social life in hell. Unlike the others he has working for him who seem all too happy to indulge in hells many depraved luxuries, you aren't one of them.

It triggers his curiosity, so he starts to remember your name and even manages to strike up conversations with you that don't sound like he's desperately trying to remember who he's even talking to.

You begin to be the first person he goes to when he needs something done and in turn you go to him when you need something as well. It's never anything too much, he notices. Always just small tasks that take him almost no effort at all. But you seem to beam at even the smallest kindness.

But then there is that ill-fated night…

It was late and you were still hard at work in your office.

Or at least you would have been, if you didn't feel like the weight of everything was weighing down on you as you stared down the two items Lucifer had left for you. A small note and a tiny rubber duck. You kept re-reading the note over and over again.

‘You're a good kid, Y/n. Keep it up’

The small gesture had formed a sickening guilt in you. You were the farthest thing from good. What you had done rightfully landed you in the shithole you belonged in. You didn't deserve his kindness, let alone his care. You felt so guilty for ever allowing him to think that you-

A knock at your door has you quickly wiping away your tears. Before you can say anything he opens it, his wide smile falling immediately.

“Oh no, what-” he pauses when he sees the death grip you have on the rubber duck he'd gifted, your eyes unable to even glance at him. He gives a nervous laugh at that. It sounds more worried than anything.

“You uh- don't like the gift, I take it?” At that your head whips to look at him, an attempt to calm your nerves written all over your face.

“No! No that's not-…no” your frantic words die down quickly as you quickly turn away again, unable to look the man in the eyes. There is a long silence that feels almost like an eternity passing. Then, to your complete surprise, he slowly pulls up a chair next to you, his eyes not turning from you for even a moment.

“Do you…maybe wanna talk about what it is then?” His voice is disarming, a mix of poorly feigned calm and genuine concern. It frightens you how quickly he makes you want to spill your guts.

“It's- I’m not-” You pause, trying to collect your words. You know then that you can't bear to tell him anything but the truth.

“I don't deserve this” you gesture to the toy and his letter. He doesn't seem to understand.

“You? Y/n, you're practically the only reason I get any work done around here! The least I can do is this, truly. Why wouldn't you deserve it?” His tone is full of disbelief, almost entirely sure that you must be avoiding telling him the entire truth.

“Because it isn't true” the bluntness of your words catches him off guard.

“I killed him and…and it felt good when I did it. It felt good to hurt him like he hurt me, it felt good being in control. It didn't feel bad when I put that knife through his throat, It didn't feel bad when I finally got him to stop touching me. It didn't…until it was over” the tears that had brimmed at your eyes fell like rivers, your attempts to wipe them away fruitless. You didn't dare look him in the eye, even as you continued.

“There was so much blood. I…I didn't know what to do. I- I didn't mean- no, no I did. But I just couldn't live with it. I couldn't live knowing that I killed him and that all I could think about was that he'd never touch me again! I couldn't-!” your words are cut off by the feeling of arms wrapping around you. For a moment you freeze, confused and horrified by the action, that is until the comfort of it seeps into you, knowing that the hands that held you now meant no harm. After that you sobbed into him.

Only once you'd calmed your sobs to hiccups and your grip loosened did he finally pull away. But he didn't go far and his eyes looked at you with nothing but pure concern.

“You listen to me, okay? I would never hold that against you. I couldn't if I tried. You did what you had to and I trust that you did it for the right reasons” his words of forgiveness strike through you, hitting you directly in your wounded heart. Never before had you believed anyone could look so kindly upon you knowing what you'd done.

After that day Lucifer had become quite father-like to you, treating you just like he would his own kid. You practically become an honorary Morningstar.

Alastor

You and Alastor have an…interesting relationship. the two of you very likely met at the hotel, considering he wouldn't have given you a second glance otherwise. You were, after all, just one of the many other souls, and not an impressive one at that. Meek, young and weak.

It takes a long while for Alastor to warm up to you, most likely because you avoid him at all cost. You learn quickly that Alastor doesn't like being avoided like that when he begins to follow you around.

It's through conversation that he grows interested in you. When you aren't blinded by your fear he's actually a great conversationalist, especially when he's alone with you. It seems almost like he drops a bit of his guard as well, something you explain away as you being of zero threat to him. The two of you often talk of your plans for the day and whatever latest idea Charlie has conjured. Small talk, for the most part. Never anything personal

Which is why you are so caught off guard when he asks the truthfully inevitable question.

It was a usual calm morning in the hotel kitchen. A bit of smooth jazz played from an old radio, the coffee machine churned, the constant static from Alastor flowed through the room and the sound of idle chit-chat passed between the two of you. Besides the fact that no one else joined the two of you, it all seemed relatively normal.

“I must say, for someone in Hell you have quite the kind heart, my dear. One might even ask how you managed to get yourself down here” Alastors words cause your heart to sink almost immediately. Your body tenses, your breathing catching for just a moment. You make sure to keep your eyes on the coffee pot and manage to give him a halfhearted laugh. But you know the moment he goes quiet for just that second too long that he noticed.

“How did you end up down here, if you don't mind telling me?” You feel your tongue go dry, your jaw clench, your entire being beg to leave this conversation. But you knew there wasn't a chance in all of Hell that you'd get out of this. If he didn't get an answer now he'd be sure to get one later.

“I uh…” you start, nausea threatening to crawl in.

“I don't know” you try to answer, hoping beyond hope that it would satisfy him.

It did not.

“Now now, one mustn't feel the need to lie to friends. I assure you I've seen worse than whatever it is you managed to do!” You pause at his words, finally turning over your shoulder to look at him.

“We’re…friends?” You ask, surprised to see him look almost just as confused by your words.

“Why of course! The both of us have quite nice talks with one another, why wouldn't we be?” He seems so confident as he speaks. Despite how skeptical you've been ever since meeting him, you can't help but feel that he might genuinely be growing on you. Fuck, you might even trust the guy. Not with your soul, mind you, but you were sure at least your words would be safe with him.

“Out with it then, what got you sent down to this lovely pit of fire and brimstone?” his tone is jovial and light, not taking this nearly as seriously as you felt he should be. You were weirded out when it actually helped you calm down a little.

“Well…” should you tell him? Would he even care? Would he blink an eye at your suffering? Would he laugh at you? All the possibilities ran through your head at once.

When you finally turned to face him he gave you an expectant look, fully anticipating an answer from you. So you took a deep breath and turned your head to gaze at a nearby wall before beginning.

“My uncle, he um…well he didn't really know how to keep his hands to himself. Ever since I first met the man he wouldn't keep his damn hands off me. Then mom died and I had to live with him and…” you pause a moment, trying to keep yourself together. With a deep breath you continued.

“He never stopped touching me. No one believed me, no one did anything. Not when I was eight, or ten, or fifteen. Not after either. I was just alone with him. Every day of every month of every year…until I couldn't take it anymore” your voice was quiet now, just above a whisper to keep it from shaking.

“I was cooking dinner when he came behind me and-…I snapped and…well I'm not really sure. I just remember being covered in blood and knowing that no one would believe me. So I did what I thought was the only thing I could do. Next thing I knew I found out I had been damned for all eternity” you hugged yourself in an attempt at comfort that wasn't working. You managed, by the smallest effort, to keep your tears in and your breath steady, but you knew you'd break at any moment. When you turned to him, his smile still plastered and staring blankly at you, you thought you just might have done so then. So you quickly turned back around to save yourself the embarrassment.

“But yeah. Pretty sure that's why I'm here-”

“That was quite brave of you” his words shock you still enough that you might have even felt your heart stop. Your head snaps back to him in an instant, unsure if you'd heard him right. He's standing now, smile just a little less wide and leaning on his cane. If you didn't know any better you might have mistaken it for a look of uncanny care.

“What?” You whisper the word. He stands a little taller at that.

“When the world stops caring then one must simply make it. Very few do so, and so I applaud your effort in taking fate into your own hands” he is serious, almost deathly so. His words aren’t what you expected, but they are actually some of the most comforting you'd ever heard. Not only because he believed you, but because he truly believed you'd done the right thing.

“...Thank you” his smile widens again and you catch how ever so slightly bigger his antlers have gotten and the small flicks of green that seem to only show in your peripheral. You choose not to say anything about it.

“Of course! Now I simply must be on my way! There is much to do and so little time. Have a pleasant rest of your morning!” he was out the door before you even realized he was leaving. You would have said goodbye yourself if you didn't know he was already gone. And without his coffee too!

After this little incident Alastor seems almost tied at your hip. You are warned time and time again not to get too close to him but after the way he took the news of your sin you honestly don't think you could push him away. He was the first person you'd ever told in Hell, the first person to ever believe you. And given how keen he is on keeping you safe both in and out of the hotel you are quite happy to call him a friend.

Vox

The only way you'd be able to get even a second glance from Vox is if you worked for him and, let's be real, he couldn't have given less of a shit about you when he first met you. You were one out of thousands that worked on his many, many projects. You were lucky if he ever even read your name, let alone remembered it.

It takes quite the circumstance for him to notice you and it's likely only because of very selfish reasons. Maybe he picks you out of the crowd as a gag at first. The big CEO talking to this meek little low life, giving them a glance at something they'll never achieve.

But Vox has a way of getting attached to the strangest things sometimes and you end up being among them. Maybe it's the way you go along with whatever he's saying, playing to his ego. Maybe it's the way he knows you don't mean a single word and he feels he has to prove himself. Or maybe he just liked having a bit of a babyface around to impress. Either way, he ends up kind of taking you in.

You become a sort of protege to Vox as he teaches you all about his company and how to run it; mostly so he can hand you the tasks of the day that he doesn't feel like handling. You're a secretary of sorts. He does, however, try to keep a distance between you and the other V’s. Mostly because he knows they can be a bit much and he doesn't want to scare you off just yet.

But it's inevitable that you would meet them someday. And, as he expected, the first meeting didn't go very well.

You and Vox were on your way down the hall in the middle of idle conversation that was mostly work related. You liked having these conversations with him, mostly because he always seemed so pleased when you'd give him an idea he liked or a change he'd consider. You felt useful in a way you hadn't really ever felt before-

“My my, if it isn't Vox and his new little pet” the voice speaks behind you and both you and Vox turn to see who it is. You are set on edge when Vox gets suddenly nervous.

“Val! I thought you had work down in the studio today?” Vox’s voice booms in the way you know he only does when he's trying to keep his cool. You make sure to stand a little closer to him when Val walks up to the two of you.

“You've been hiding from me, love. So I figured I'd pay a visit. Good thing too” the moth man leans down to you so close you feel your entire being beg to disappear.

“I wouldn’t have met the darling that's been keeping Voxy so occupied. Cosita bonita” he looks down at you, his smile alone sending a cold shiver up your spine. He grabs your hand and instead of doing anything normal like shaking or kissing it, he instead begins to lick up your arm.

“Rumor has it your little fall from grace betrays how sweet as you look” Horrified and feeling very familiar fear consume your being, you freeze up. Luckily, and rather surprisingly, Vox very quickly pulls him away from you.

“Alright, alright that's enough of that!” his tone is that of a light reprimand, though the swirls in his eyes betray him. He effortlessly spins the moth man around in something similar to a dance, ending with the two of them facing away from you. Whispered words are exchanged, Val glancing back at you for only a moment afterwards before walking off with no complaint.

Vox straightens his suit, his performative smile falling for a moment before turning back to you.

“Let's get back on our way” he beckons you as he continues to walk. You follow along, compliant as ever. He leads you to an elevator where the two of you get in and he clicks whatever floor he'd decided he had work on. You think everything is relatively normal until, with a wave of his hand, the elevator stops.

“What did he mean?” The question confuses you.

“...about what?” You ask, unsure what he was getting at. He turns to you.

“About your ‘fall from grace', what was he getting at?” the realization dawns on you the same way acid would drip into an old wound. There was really only one thing that could mean and the fact that a man you'd never met knew enough to mention it made you sick to your stomach.

“Kid?” He calls to you and it's only then you notice tears build in your eyes. You quickly blink them away before making sure to avoid looking in his general direction.

“I…don't know” you tried, very unconvincingly, to feign ignorance. Unfortunately that didn't go over well with him.

“I don't think I've met a worse liar in the entirety of Hell than you” he states plainly and you can't help but agree. You hadn't really ever had practice in the field. Yet even with his call on your bullshit you chose to stay silent.

“Look, If Val knows then chances are I'm finding out anyway. He's not exactly great at keeping his mouth shut” he tries to convince an answer out of you but his words only make it worse. You didn't want that creep to know in the first place! But, being ever so horrible at keeping such a cold front up, you break under his gaze.

“It’s why I'm in Hell” you start off vague and you notice how he leans in just a bit closer.

“Seriously? That's what's got you upset? What, was it embarrassing? Because believe me, I'm sure I've heard worse” he was really trying to sell you that notion, what with the wide smile and undivided attention, but you couldn't help the nagging voice that told you he wouldn't believe you.

But still, you assumed it better he heard it from you than Val. After all, you and Vox were pretty close at this point. If there was anyone that you'd tell, it would be him.

“No it's- well it is embarrassing, but-” you stammer a moment, trying to find the right way to say it. Soon enough you fix your eyes on the metal doors and just spill.

“I had an uncle. I lived with him for a while, most of my human life really. And he uh…I was just a kid at the time and he- he couldn't keep his hands to himself. Just kept…touching me. For years” the way the information pours out of you is forced. Like you have to pry it from your own mind and shove it out your throat. But there was no point stopping now.

“And then I just couldn't take it anymore. I don't even really know what happened. One second I was cooking dinner and the next he came behind me and…and then everything was bloody and…” you trail for a moment, your mind brought back to that horrific memory. Without a thought you finally turn to Vox.

He looks completely deflated, stripped of that egocentric smile of his and leaving nothing but a shocked still expression in its place. His mouth hangs slightly open as if to say something, but no words come. You feel your tears sting your eyes at the sight.

“No one believed me when I told them what he was doing, no one believed me when I told them for how long. So I knew when I killed him it would just be the same. That they'd make him a martyr and I'd be the villain and- and I couldn't deal with that! I- I didn't want to live through that again!” your voice raises at the end, voice pleading to be listened to, to be believed. Fuck, even just heard.

You get what you ask for with his stunned silence and tense posture. After a moment though you can't help but feel like you want to take your words back, his silence disturbing you greatly.

Just as you're about to ask him to forget what he'd heard, to pretend like you hadn't ever said anything and move on like normal, his hands reach slowly for you. The movement confuses you so greatly that you don't even think to stop him when he silently pulls you into him. You stand rigid for a long moment before, bit by bit, melting into sobs. He holds you tighter in the silence of the elevator and you can't help but grip onto him like your afterlife depended on it.

It's after this that Vox becomes fiercely protective of you. It's incredibly strange for everyone, including yourself. He is adamant that it's just because you know so much about his company, that it's all purely business. But when you think back to that day in the elevator you can't help but believe that he might just actually care about you.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel & reader #alastor & reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar & reader #vox & reader #angel dust & reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vox & reader #hazbin hotel angel dust & reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #platonic hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel & you #gn reader

[darby-rowe]

imagine being a pretty district 12 girl and peacekeeper!coryo just has to have you, he can’t bear the thought of not being able to have you, so when he sees you at the hob he gets you really drunk and then takes you to the alleyway. and of course you’re a virgin and you keep telling him to stop touching you but it feels so good at the same time, and he just has to have what’s his, or else. he wants to see you squirming as you try to take him, to watch as the tears trickle down your cheeks as you whimper and tell him he’s ‘too big’ and you can’t take it.

- a 🎀

i dont write enough peacekeeper!coryo (mainly bc im not a buzzcut girlie at all GASP) but damn there are so many good ideas for dark fics w him 🤤 and this ask is DELICIOUS

mayhaps i got....... a bit carried away..........

18+ | nsfw | mdni cw fem!reader, NONCON/DUBCON, dead dove do not eat, alcohol consumption, vaginal tearing, blood (coryo has an implied blood kink) tw emetophobia (but not graphic)

➽───────────────❥

you knew damn well that peacekeepers were forces to be reckoned with, but one night you let your better instincts slip away from you as you drank nearly a quarter of your body weight in moonshine.

and the pretty peacekeeper with the blonde buzz and piercing blue eyes had been eyeing you all night, getting you drink after drink after drink. even after you kept politely declining, he just kept insisting. you already struggled with standing up to authority, and you weren't going to start. especially since you were quickly losing your ability to make judgements.

somehow you made it to an alleyway with your front pressed against the cold, dank wall with the peacekeeper's fingers forcing their way into your panties. you whined as your body pathetically attempted to push him away, but your head was spinning, speech slurred and incoherent.

you whimpered as you felt his middle finger circle your clit, involuntarily rocking your hips into his touch. "nnno," you slurred, not even attempting to hide the moans threatening to escape your throat. "never... never... done this—"

the peacekeeper just chuckled in your ear as he continued to prod his fingers at your swollen clit. "shh, don't worry, little dove," he cooed mockingly. "gonna take this pussy right here and there's nothing you can do about it. fill you up with my cock. fuck, you're soaking wet,"

you were defenseless as the peacekeeper lifted up your dress and pulled down your cotton panties, making you yelp in a mixture of surprise and fear. you tried again to get out of his grasp, but he had the advantage of being sober and way stronger than you. all you could do was whimper softly as the tip of his cock tease your wet folds, making you shudder.

"can't wait to fuck you," he sighed, easing himself into your small, tight hole. you gasped as you were ripped open, raising yourself up on your tiptoes to try to squirm away from the pain. but once again you were trapped in between the peacekeeper and the dank wall.

tears sprang from your eyes and spilled down your cheeks, your cries coming out in weak croaks. it hurt so bad; a perpetual sting that rocked through your entire body. you prayed for something — anything — to come take away this unbearable pain.

"hurts," you choked, nearly gagging on your tears. "please, sir, hurts s'bad. too big. can't take it...!"

the peacekeeper continued to thrust his large cock into your abused cunt. he looked down, watching as blood began to slowly trickle out of your hole and cover the shaft of his cock. the sight only made him harder, the crimson liquid making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.

"perfect district pussy," he growled, unable to tear his eyes away from his blood-soaked cock. "doing so well taking me. covering my cock in your blood. fuck, baby, 'm gonna cum so fuckin' hard,"

it was a perplexing mixture of feelings; the pain of having your walls abused and ripped open colliding with an earth-shattering orgasm. you didn't even notice the peacekeeper shooting his load deep inside you until he pulled out to admire how your blood and his cum dripped out of your cunt.

you heard the sound of him fixing his clothes. and with a final tap to your hip, he left you alone to process the events that just transpired.

as the wave of nausea finally hit you, you hunched over and expelled whatever moonshine was left in your system.

#☽｡⋆ dally’s asks; #♡; dally writes! #cw noncon #cw dubcon #cw blood #tw emetophobia #dead dove do not eat #fem!reader #female reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow smut #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #x reader #x reader smut #x reader fanfiction

[daydreaming-nerd]

Lipstick Kisses (Azriel x Female! reader)

AN: while I LOVED my last Azriel fic I felt kinda bad about how it ended to so even though this was supposed to be a Cassian fic I thought I would switch it up just to say I’m sorry lol 

Summary: You and Azriel weren’t together. But you also weren’t not together. Sure he warmed your bed nightly, but he had made it clear that he was hesitant to date his best friend, Rhysand’s, little sister. You were content to play the game until one night a certain princess got so far under your skin you couldn’t see straight. 

Warnings: jealousy, unprotected sex, cockwarming if you squint? 

Word Count: 2496

(all pics are from pinterest) 

Rita’s had never been so busy before. Packed from wall to wall with members of every court here to celebrate the week leading up to Starfall. A tradition my brother had long since put on. Everyone seemed to be merry and happy, even Azriel who stood at the bar with the Princess of Adriata. 

Azriel and I had been hot and heavy for a couple of months. My whole life the shadowsinger and I had danced around one another, flirting here and there but never acting. It wasn’t until one night when I ran into the spymaster in the hallway of the House of Wind, when we couldn’t stay away from one another. It was a mess of hands, teeth, tongues and kisses as he took me against the wall. From that moment on Azriel sought to warm my bed nightly, but nothing more and I never thought to ask him why for fear of losing him. We weren’t together, weren’t not together. And I had no right to stare daggers at the Princess of Adriata, yet here I stood, at the edge of the room doing just that. 

“Looking a little tense there y/n,” Cassain drawled, nudging my shoulder. 

“I am not tense,” I gritted out. 

“Then why does it look like you’re about to shatter that glass with your bare hand?” he retorts. I look to where my polished fingers are gripping my cocktail in rage. 

“I’m just scared someone is going to knock my drink out of my hand, it’s super busy in here,” I say, loosening my grip on the glass. 

Cassian let out a chuckle, “You sure it has nothing to do with the way Az is looking at the Princess of Adriata?” he smirked. While Az and I hadn’t told anyone about our nightly escapades, poor Cassain was practically forced to have the knowledge as his room was next to mine. 

I meet Cassian’s eyes in a sideways glare causing him to laugh again. 

“Of course he wants The Princess of Adriata,” I sneer at her name. 

“You’re a Princess too y/n,” Cassian reminds me.

“Yeah well apparently not the right type,” I huff, turning around so I don’t have to watch them smile and flirt anymore. 

“You should get him back,” Cassian muses. 

“If you’re trying to take me into your bed again it won’t work.” I laugh while sipping my drink, remembering a different drunken night, or a few of them, that Cassian and I had shared at Rita’s. 

“You wound me Princess, you can’t say you didn’t enjoy yourself all those years ago,” he smirked, bumping my shoulder again. 

“Illyrians really are sensitive babies. Now what kind of revenge did you have in mind?” I smirk into my glass. 

“You got some red lipstick in that bag?” his eyes gleamed. 

I rummage around through the mess of trinkets in my purse till I find the red rouge sitting in the bottom and pull it out. “Looks like I do,” I say, holding it up for him to see. 

“Perfect, now put it on,” he says standing in front of me so I can use his siphon as a mirror as I always had for years anytime I needed to fix my makeup or hair. He used to hate it, but now I think it makes him feel special. 

“I fail to see where this is going,” I contest putting the lipstick back in my bag. 

Cassian didn’t say anything, he just pointed to his cheek asking for me to kiss it. I rolled my eyes and obliged. When I pulled back a bright red lipstick stain adorned his cheek and I realized what he was doing now. 

“Cassian, you're a genius,” I laugh. 

“Well I am a specialist in war tactics after all. Now go around and say hello to every Lord in here and greet them with one of your sweet kisses. The second Az looks around he’s going to lose his mind.” he explains. 

“Thanks Cass,” I laugh before turning away but I feel his hand on my arm. 

“I think I might deserve a little more thanks than that Princess,” he says playfully.

“Fine you big baby,” I roll my eyes before placing a quick kiss on his lips seeing the lipstick residue there. 

“You’re welcome princess,” he smirks triumphantly before turning away.

I turn to the crowd of people in front of me scanning the hundreds of happy faces packed into the tavern. Like a beacon of hope I find Thesan conversing with two other Lords, the perfect target. 

“Thesan!” I cheer, “My brother and I are honored to have you here in our court,” I greet him sweetly, pressing a discreet kiss to his cheek.    

“Princess it’s always a pleasure to be in your presence,” Thesan smiles warmly. “May I present Lord Baylor and Lord Suffolk.” 

Both Lords reach their hands out to mine and I push them away, “Please I’ve never been fond of handshakes,” I smile gently, embracing each of them and pressing kisses to their cheeks as well. 

“We are honored to be here Princess y/n, the stories of your beauty still don’t do you justice,” Lord Baylor smiled.  

“You all flatter me too much, it’s going to go straight to my head,” I tease playfully before excusing myself to mingle with the other lords.       

I continue my charade until my drink empties and I’m forced to retreat to the bar for another. I be sure to pass right by where Azriel and The Princess of Adriata are talking before leaning against the bartop and requesting my regular. I try to hide the smirk when I feel a certain scarred hand graze my elbow. 

“Is there a reason why those red lips have been on the cheek of every man here tonight Princess?” Azriel says lowly into my ear. 

“I’m just being a good host Az,” I say, not keeping my eye off the bartender making my drink. 

“More than good the way I see it,” he grits and his hands trace the backs of my arms. The bartender brings my drink over and I leave a large tip in his jar. I finally turn to meet Azriel’s intense gaze. 

“Don’t be so jealous Azriel, after all we aren’t even together,” I tilt my head before sauntering off. 

When I get back to the House of Wind that night I’m utterly exhausted. I open the door to my bedroom and kick my shoes off sending them flying across the room. My dress is the next to go, falling in a pile on the floor. I wash up, and slip on my nightgown before falling into my bed with a sigh, too lazy to turn off the small fae light next to me. I try to sleep but it’s not the same without a certain Illyrian next to me. 

A half hour later I hear the door open slowly, I pretend to still be asleep not wanting to even speak to Azriel. When I had left Rita’s he was still talking with The Princess of Adriata, and this time she had a hand on his bicep.

I heard daggers and leathers falling to the ground as the bed sank behind me. 

“Scooch over Princess, there's no room for me,” he whispered into my ear as his arms circled around me to move me over. 

“Get off me Az, I don’t remember inviting you to my bed tonight,” I grumble, not moving an inch. 

He doesn’t move, “I’ve been sleeping here for three months y/n what do you mean?” 

“I mean, I don’t want The Princess of Adriata’s sloppy seconds sleeping in my bed, now go to your own room,” I huff, slamming my head down on my pillow for emphasis. 

Azriel scoffs, “This is about Cressida?” he asks in disbelief. 

“Oh good for you, you’re on a first name basis with the oh so perfect princess,” I say donning the same mocking tone I used to Cassian. 

“You do know that you’re also a Princess,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. 

“So I’ve heard,” I roll my eyes, moving my shoulder away from him. “Now get out.” 

“Y/n, I didn’t sleep with her,” Azriel says, pressing another kiss to my shoulder.

“Yeah right,” I scoff. 

“She did try, but I told her I was seeing someone,” he continued kissing my arm. 

“Oh really?” I sneer. 

“Yes my love,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You.”  

“I thought you didn’t want to be with me, I thought you just wanted to fuck me,” I grumble trying not to enjoy his lips on my body. 

“I never said that,” he states and I can feel his agitation. 

“Well you didn’t not say it either, what am I supposed to think when I only see you at night?” I argue. 

“Fine, I’ll admit it, I was scared.” he grumbled, moving to lean back on the pillows. 

I sit up to face him and find him pressing the heels of his hands into his forehead like he has the largest migraine to ever be known to man. 

“Scared of what?” I scoff in disbelief. He was Azriel, my spymaster and a shadowsinger. I had seen his fierceness on a battlefield countless times, seen him slaughter enemies of my court. What could possibly scare him?

“I was scared that one day you’d wake up and realize what I truly am, a lowborn nobody. You’re a princess for gods sakes y/n. The most beautiful woman in Prythian. You should be with a prince like Varian, not me. And even though I knew that I couldn’t stay away from you. You smell so good and your skin is so soft and the way you look at me sometimes? It would’ve taken all seven High Lords to keep me from your bed, especially when you invite me to it so willingly. I was scared that if we made our relationship something more than just pleasure that you would realize that, and that’s a blow I couldn’t handle.” Azriel confessed, finally ripping his hands off his forehead to stare at the ceiling.  

“Azriel I-” 

“It’s okay you don’t have to say anything,” he sighed, getting out of bed. 

“Az,” I plead, but he keeps walking.

 “Azriel stop!” I scream not the request of a lover, but the order of a princess. I see his wings twitch as he stops moving, still not turning to meet my eye. 

“Azriel I love you,” I confess. 

He whips around to meet my eyes, using his years of reading people to try and decipher whether or not I’m telling the truth. He finds no trace of a lie and before I know it he’s standing over the bed and bringing his lips to mine. His knees sink to the bed and I use his off balance to push him down into the pillows so I can straddle his lap. 

“Do you mean it?” he asks as I lean back to look at him, his eyes blown out and on cloud nine. 

“I’ve loved you for years Az, just ask my brother. When I thought you didn’t want to do anything but bed me my heart was broken, but I was willing to take whatever I could get.” I explained. 

“You have all of me y/n,  you always will,” he smiles, leaning up to kiss me. “But I’m still mighty jealous of all those lipstick prints, especially the ones I saw on Cassian.” he smirks against my skin. 

“I think I can make it up to you,” I smile before reaching over to my bedside table to retrieve the lipstick from my discarded clutch. I keep our eyes locked as I put the cherry red color all over my lips and I swear I feel his cock twitch under me. 

I lean down to leave a kiss on his cheek, then his forehead, his jaw, his chin and then I give the other side of his face the same treatment. I move my lips down either side of his neck earning a low groan from him. I smile and continue my assault all over his bare chest and shoulders. 

“Fuck y/n,” he moans and I can tell he’s trying not to flip me over and pound me into the mattress. 

I leave lipstick marks all over his abs and when I reach his boxers I pull the waistband down just enough to leave a kiss right above his aching cock. 

“Fuck this I need to be inside you,” he grunts and I’m quickly being hauled up by my arms and tossed on my back. Within moments he slams his cock inside me. 

“Oh fuck Azriel!” I scream, raking my nails down his back. 

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping as Azriel thrusts inside me at a brutal pace. Both seeking his own pleasure and to claim. 

“Your turn Princess,” he smirks before sucking the skin of my neck into his mouth. My hands fly to his hair pulling him closer to me as his teeth sink into my neck.

“Azriel,” I breathe into his ear and he spurs his hips even faster. I feel him leave a light lick soothing the skin he bit into. 

“Mine,” he growls before leaning back to admire his work. He lifts my legs and puts them over his shoulders to hit me even deeper making my eyes roll to the back of my head. 

“Azriel!” I scream practically in subspace. 

“That’s right Princess, let everyone know who owns this little pussy,” he grins with male pride. 

“Yours Az all yours,” I breathe, unable to find my words.

“Good girl,” he says before reaching down to rub circles into my clit. The sudden sensation is enough to have me arching my back and cumming on his cock, a string of curses and his name falling off my lips.

Azriel continues thrusting into me seaking his own pleasure before spilling into me with a moan that practically shakes the doors. His head burrows into my neck and I run my hands through his hair pressing kisses to his face. I look up at him to see the lipstick marks all over him and I can’t help but laugh. 

He rolls us to the side taking me with him so his cock is still inside me. 

“Do you think Rhys is gonna kill me when he finds out?” Azriel asks jokingly but I can tell he’s genuinely wondering. 

“Well he was pissed at Cassian but he got over it so I’d say we’re good,” I sigh tracing the lipstick marks left on his chest. 

“Wait, you slept with Cassian?” he asks, stunned. 

“Yeah like 105 years ago, you didn’t know?” I laugh. 

“No I didn’t,” he says, throwing his arms around me and standing up making sure his cock doesn’t leave its spot nestled inside me.

“What are you doing?” I giggle playing with his hair as I feel my back hit  the far wall of my room. 

“Fucking you against Cassian’s bedroom wall,” he smirks kissing me deeply. “Gotta let him know we’re official now.” 

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x reader angst #azriel x reader fluff #azriel x you #azriel x reader smut #azriel smut

[billyrayjo]

A Night Snowed Inn

Azriel x F!Reader (one bed trope!! EEEEK)

Warnings: fluff, implied smut, angst, hurt/comfort, makes you all tingly inside

Announcement: it’s been a while! I got sucked into some books and haven’t written in a few months, but I’m going to try to start being consistent again!

You wiped at your eyes for the dozenth time of the hour, snow clinging to your eyelashes and clouding your vision.

You and Azriel had been sent on a scouting mission, trudging through the snow for hours now. Your assigned target was a group of enchanted autumn court soldiers, but in the relentless weather you hadn’t even gotten a peak of the crazed men.

Stomping further forward, you tried to step into Azriel’s already sunken tracks, but it seemed that by the time you found your footing, the snow had already filled the once dug-out footprints.

“You good?” sounded from in front of you, the only sound to be heard over the roaring wind and snowfall. Azriel was stopped, turning to look at you over his shoulder. You almost recoiled at how unfazed he seemed, suddenly noticing the chattering of your teeth and numbness of your toes tenfold at his unbothered state.

“Just cold. Nothing serious” you waved off, stubbornly trudging forward another step. You suppressed the violent shivers your body had started half an hour ago, refusing to let the SpyMaster see just how miserable you were.

As you got closer to him, you stretched your foot out for a final step. When it made contact with the ground, instead of the fluffy crunch of snow, a shattering sound met your ears. Suddenly, your foot was no longer supported, sending your leg into a substance so cold it burned your skin at impact.

With nothing to grab onto, your body free fell instantly into the freezing water below the surface. Without so much of an “uh o-”, the world was disappearing from in front of you, your eyes being met with nothing but darkness.

At the shrill of the freezing temperature, the only thing your body could do was tense. You didn’t kick, didn’t scream, didn’t fight, it’s like every muscle went into immediate shutdown and numbness. You vaguely felt the feeling of something under your arms before you were surged back up to the land of the breathing.

Something was touching your face. At the whirlwind of motion you just went through, your muddled and frozen brain was struggling to keep up with everything going on. You felt the plushness of snow beneath your back, the wind biting at your cold and wet leathers. “Hey. (Y/n). Please, look at me.” echoed above you. After blinking the frost out of your eyes, you came into focus of a stressed Azriel staring down at you.

His hands were gently brushing up and down your arms as your body involuntarily convulsed from the cold. “Come on. We need to get you warmed up. Just focus on me, angel.” muttered from his lips, his amber gaze still taking in your figure from head to toe, assessing for injuries.

With Azriel’s help, you stiffly rose to your feet after another 30 seconds of examination. Once he deemed you okay to walk, he assisted you into a standing position before wrapping your arm around his neck and trekking forward. “There’s an inn close by we can stay in for the night. It’s just a few miles ahead.” He reassured into your ear, free hand still rubbing up and down your arm for warmth.

After what felt like hours of hobbling, twinkling lights and the smoke from a fireplace appeared in the distance. At the sight, you unwillingly let out a sigh, but with the current situation you realized it came out as more of a whimper. “I know. I know. We’re almost there I promise.” Azriel all but whispered, his free arm coming down to scoop up your legs, taking your body fully into his embrace.

“I’m okay, Az. I can walk” you whispered, teeth chattering so much it sounded like more of a stutter. “You just fell into a frozen lake in the dead of winter. I’m allowed to mother hen for a moment.” he rebuttled, sharp eyes catching yours in a no-nonsense gaze. You couldn’t help the small smile pulling on your lips, Azriel’s eyes taking it in until his lip was lifting slightly as well, pulling out that crease in his cheek you adored.

“Your lips are blue.” he stated, almost to himself as his eyes landed back on your mouth. At the admission, it seemed as if something clicked in him, his head turning and body surging forward once again. With nothing else to do, you lowered your head onto his shoulder and allowed your eyes to close for the remainder of the trip.

When shuffling and the muffled sound of a door closing filled your ears, you slowly raised your head to take in your surroundings. You were still in Azriel’s arms, stood in the middle of a small room. The room was dull, old wooden floors and ancient wallpaper adorning every surface. There was a small dresser, an armoire, a nightstand with a small lamp adorning it, and a very uncomfortable looking bed pushed into the corner.

While it wasn’t extremely inviting, you felt the weight of the world ease off of your shoulders when your eyes caught the hearth of a fireplace across from the bed. Gently rubbing your eyes, you felt Azriel release your legs and set you gently on the floor, his arms staying wrapped around you for assurance before releasing you entirely.

“Let me get the fire started so we can get you warmed up.” he muttered, already set in his task. Your cold fingers started working nimbly at the buttons of your leathers, fighting with each one much harder than you would have if your fingers were behaving properly. You cursed yourself as you failed at the second button, frustrated tears forming in your eyes as your fingers slipped off of the cool metal for the third time.

Right as you went to try again, a warm, textured hand gently laid over yours. “Let me” came from his lips in a whisper, his hand gently pulling yours away from the cursed contraption before he got to work. He slowly undid each button, looking up into your eyes as he worked.

“Would you like me to run you a bath before you change into dry clothes?” he asked, eyes bouncing from your own back down to the buttons repeatedly. You nodded your head eagerly, almost moaning at the thought of sitting in water warmer than -12°.

Once you were freed from the confines of your frozen tunic, Azriel helped you slip off your pants, leaving you in an undershirt and pants that were also frozen. After laying your leathers to dry on the dresser, he made his way to the bathroom.

Instead of feeling useless, you decided to tend to the fire while Azriel was preoccupied. Crouching in front of the hearth, you used the metal poker to stab and adjust the logs to your liking, ignoring the shooting pain in your legs at the squat you were maintaining.

After you were satisfied with the logs, you dropped the poker and wrapped your arms around your knees, resting your head atop them and soaking in the warmth from the flames. After a few seconds of silence, you heard Azriel’s footsteps approaching from behind.

His hand came down to rest on your back, his own legs bringing him into a squat beside you. “The bath is ready. I laid out some clothes for you on the sink.”. You slowly pried your eyes open, taking in his appearance slowly from underneath your lashes. His hand began absentmindedly rubbing up and down on your back soothingly, his soft gaze maintaining your stare.

“Aren’t you cold too?” you muttered, words muffled by your arm pressing into your lips. Azriel’s fingers came up to gently push a strand of hair behind your ear as a soft smile grazed his features once again. “I’ll be okay.” he whispered, grabbing your hands and pulling you to stand once more. “Yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be right here.” passing his lips as he walked you to the bathroom door.

Once in the safety of the bathroom, you felt a warm blush spread over your cheeks. While you undressed, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to Azriel and his sudden protectiveness of you.

You had been friends with the shadowsinger for years, close enough to share sleepless nights together and find comfort in each other’s presence. While it was mainly a platonic relationship, you sometimes felt a twinge in your heart or an increase in your pulse when he would cuddle up to you. It wasn’t rare for him to seek you out after a long mission and rest in the comfort of your embrace. That’s what friends were for though, right?

As your final piece of wet clothing thudded onto the floor, you dipped your foot into the warm water with a sigh. Azriel had somehow found a bottle of bath oils and dumped them in with the running water, leaving a calming earthy scent wafting throughout the room. As you lowered yourself in, you couldn’t help but let out a groan at the warmth encasing you.

You stayed until the water got lukewarm, scrubbing and relaxing to your hearts content. Once you declared your spa night over, you lifted yourself up, albeit ungracefully, and wrapped yourself in a towel. Reaching for the clothes on the counter, you noticed your usual nightly attire replaced by a large t-shirt with cutouts in the back and some undies.

Back home, Azriel would often slip you one of his t-shirts whenever you complained about how uncomfortable your attire was to sleep in. It seemed like every week he would suddenly have a pile of clothes he no longer wore, coming to your room to drop off his “donations” with a soft smile and a teasing smirk. It didn’t pass on you that each one smelled more and more like him, rising confusion into just howww old each round of t-shirts was. You felt a giddy feeling ignite in your chest at the thoughtfulness of him laying one out for you.

Emerging from the bathroom, you suddenly felt the nerves of wearing so little in Azriel’s presence. Sure, he had seen you in this exact outfit hundreds of times over the years, but something about being in the small confines of the inn made it feel different. Almost like your teenage boyfriend seeing you in your swimsuit for the first time.

You padded lightly over to the fire, Azriel’s head snapping in your direction as you made your way towards him. While you felt a million times better, there was one small issue. You couldn’t clasp the buttons on the back of the shirt. Having a shirt made for Illyrian wings meant two gaping holes in the back, requiring multiple buttons to be clasped for each one to remain closed.

Turning around in front of Azriel, you pulled your damp hair over your shoulder to offer him your back, mewing out a weak “button me?” as you stilled. Gently, his large hands came to rest on the open fabric, pulling and buttoning each one slowly.

“Do you feel any better?” he asked, voice muffled by the concentration he held over the buttons. A wave of shivers went up your spine when his hand brushed the bare skin of your back, an uncontrollable goosebump breaking out in the open space. With a nervous giggle, you squirmed a little at the feeling, a small “so much better” leaving your lips in a sigh.

Once he was satisfied, Azriel gently gripped your wrist and turned you to him. Unbeknownst to you, he had taken the time you spent in the restroom to change, dry himself off, and even heat up some of the soup he had brought in his pack. He wore a simple black t-shirt, tattoos peaking out from the collar, with gray sweatpants. You felt your mouth water slightly at the sight of his shirt stretching over his taught shoulders, choosing to keep your gaze on his face instead.

Pushing down the blush forming on your cheeks, you prayed to the mother Azriel hadn’t caught your ogling, but the small smirk on his face crushed some of that hope. Without warning, he pulled you forward by your wrist, dragging you down into his lap. Your legs rested across his thighs, dangling on his other side, and your arms involuntarily wrapped around his neck. Almost like an instinct.

Azriel wrapped himself around you, one arm coming around your lower back while the other grabbed the back of your head gently, pulling you into him as he buried his face in your neck. You felt him take a deep inhale, his shoulders relaxing under your grip, before he muttered out an “I thought I lost you today.” against the skin of your shoulder. You let your eyes close and your body relax, pushing your face further into his collar like he did yours. An overwhelming scent of pinewood and man invaded your senses, immediately relaxing you and making you crave more.

“I’m sorry Azzie” you whispered, tightening your grip around his shoulders. “I should have paid more attention to where I was stepping.” following your confession as you slowly pulled back to meet his gaze. His eyes immediately found yours, amber glowing in the firelight as they took in your small, apologetic smile. His gaze searched your face for what felt like centuries, eyes catching on your mouth as you unknowingly bit down on your lip before his brows furrowed and a frustrated look took over his features.

“I-uh. I’m going to go get some water.” he rushed out, gently pushing you off of him and standing, leaving you with a pang in your chest. You watched his figure retreat to the door, brows furrowed and silent curiosity taking over when he didn’t even look back at you before he walked out, closing the door behind him.

After slurping down the rest of your soup, your eyes started to close tiredly as you sat patiently on the bed for Azriel’s return. He had only been gone for half an hour, but something in your chest was aching at his absence. Had you done something? Said something? You had been racking your brain endlessly for any hint as to what his distaste could be from, but were coming up empty.

Feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on, you grabbed a pillow and small blanket from the bed before setting up your spot on the floor. Mother forgive if Azriel couldn’t even look at you and you forced him into sharing a bed. He had to be just as exhausted as you, and rather than face the awkward encounter when he returned, you decided to make the decision for the both of you.

Tucking yourself into the thin blanket, you laid your head on the pillow and closed your eyes. The only sounds in the room were the occasional dripping of the bathroom sink, and the cracking of the fire in the hearth. If you hadn’t have been so in your head, it would have been oddly relaxing. Well, relaxing for having your hip stabbing into the hardwood…

Somehow, sleep took over you, the crackling and dripping dwindling into silence as your body fully relaxed into the darkness. It felt like you had only dozed off for a few moments when you heard the door shut quietly on the other side of the room. You had laid out your palette in front of the fireplace, so whoever entered got a good look at your back upon entering the room.

Deciding you didn’t want to face the impending awkwardness, you remained still with your back turned to the door as you tried to listen for Azriel’s movements. He stepped a few feet into the room before you heard his footsteps pause, a quiet “Oh, angel.” coming from him before his footsteps resumed. You heard his footsteps carry over to the nightstand, something sounding like glass being sat atop of it, before he was on the move again.

Realizing he was coming towards you, you quickly shut your eyes and relaxed your features into the likes of sleeping. You knew it was childish, but you had no idea what to say after Azriel’s obvious discomfort. Maybe he would assume you were asleep and leave you be, everything going back to normal once the sun was shining and everyone was fully rested.

Those prayers were squashed when you felt his footsteps come right behind you, a thud escaping from the sound of his knees meeting the hardwood. He gently rolled you onto your back, his hands being as gentle as always with grabbing your shoulder and waist to assist him. Now that he was moving you, there was no way you could fake sleep without it being obvious, so you slowly peeled your eyes open to look up at him.

His gaze was saddened as he took in your features, his hand coming to rest on your cheek as his brows furrowed, leaving a crease between his brows. You blinked a few times to clear the fog, eyebrows raising in question as he stared down at you. “Why are you on the floor, angel?” he whispered, finger grazing your cheek gently as he awaited your reply.

You took a few seconds to generate a response, teeth taking claim to your lower lip as you weighed out your response. His amber eyes watched your movement for a second before coming back up to meet your own.

“I. I thought you were upset or uncomfortable or- I just. I didn’t want to force you to share a bed with me.” coming out weakly, your voice scratchy and worn from the sudden awaking from your slumber. You felt embarrassed at the admission, slowly tearing your gaze from his to look beside you at the fire.

At the turn of your head, his fingers gently found your chin before making you look up at him. “Force me?” rushed past his lips in an astounded tone, his frown getting even deeper at the thought. “Angel, I don’t give a damn how upset I seem.. Never. Ever. make excuses for me if it affects your well-being.” he demanded, eyes not leaving yours as he continued. “I could never be upset with you, angel. Never” his voice started out strong, but by the end of his sentence his voice came out more strangled than you had ever heard him.

Scrunching your brows in even more confusion, you opened your mouth to reply but couldn’t muster up a reply. When your mouth gently closed again, Azriel began sliding his arms underneath you, quick to scoop you off of the floor.

“Az- wait. It’s fine. I was comfortable.” you rushed out, fighting his grip to go back to your spot on the thin blanket. A scoff left his lips as he rounded the bed, gently sitting you down before turning your chin to him once again. “Gods this is all my fault” he muttered to himself before backing away from you again, going to grab the pillow and blanket off of the floor before returning to your bedside.

He gently ushered you to the other side of the bed, between him and the wall, before tucking you in and making sure you were fully covered. Once he was satisfied, he lowered himself into the bed, covering himself before propping his head on his hand to look at you.

Feeling nervous, you slowly began to roll the opposite way, hating the way his eye contact affected you. His hand shot out to grab your wrist at your movements, gently pulling you back around to face him as he scooted closer to you.

“I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to make you think I was upset with you.” he whispered, a serious concern taking over his features. Both of his hands came out to cup your face, his face so close to yours you could see the flecks of amber in his irises.

You pondered your response for a millisecond, deciding to just be honest. Wrapping your hands around his wrists, you admitted, “It just seemed like you were angry with me by the way you left the room. Its okay. We can just go to bed and talk about it tomorrow.” you offered, a slight smile taking over your lips in reassurance.

Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead to connect with your collarbone before letting out a pained “Fuck, angel. You’re killing me.”. He slowly lifted his gaze back up to you before a saddened look took over his features as he took you in. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” brushed past his lips as his thumbs rubbed soothing lines under your eyes.

Feeling a sudden wave of boldness, you let out a weak “show me, then.”, eyes staring deeply into his. You felt your heart rate pick up in anticipation, a flutter raising into your chest at the close proximity. At your words, Azriel let out a deep growl, hands sliding to the back of your head to lace into your hair. He cursed under his breath before exhaling, and the next thing you know his lips were on yours.

Azriel kissed you like a man starved. He craned your neck back for better access, kissing you deeper than before. His tongue invaded your mouth, your hands instinctively coming up to grip his t-shirt, eliciting another growl from him. As his kiss grew more desperate, you clung to him. A small throbbing began in your lower abdomen, a whine being pulled from your lips as Azriel ravished you.

He pulled back from you slightly, growling a quick “you have no idea how long I’ve needed this, baby.” before he pulled you back into him, one of his hands leaving your hair to graze down to your hip. Suddenly, he gripped your thigh, pulling it to rest over his hip before angling you to where he was slightly above you.

You moaned at the feeling of his length pressed against your core, his member already hardened from the short exchange. With a few thrusts of his hips, you were a whining mess, thoughts clouded and lips swollen from the intensity.

Just as he came down to kiss you again, a soft whine sound escaping from his throat as his dick grazed your center again, there was an overwhelming tug in your chest. A tug so tight and so intense it had you gasping at the feeling. Just when you thought your heart was about to explode, an invisible golden string appeared, tying you to the man above you.

“You- you’re. You’re my. My mate?” came from you in a rushed intensity, eyes flying open to meet Azriel’s piercing gaze.

“It’s about time you figured it out, baby.”

THE END. EEEEK I HOPE YOU LIKE

#azriel #azriel x reader #comfort #fluff #acotar