#who knows maybe someone else will take liberties

[killershark82]

Part one of crossover idea I had

Alright so on to that idea I had that I said I would explain in more depth that I do not have a name for yet because I am not that creative with names.

Though knowing me I’m going to get too into it as I do this and make more problems for me.

Oh well.

Anyway~

So the main driving point of this idea is that Lloyd has two half siblings from other worlds in Lucy heartfilia from fairytail, and Neil from Class of the Titans (if you don’t know this one I recommend it’s great)

How does this work? Well we already know wu and garmadon got up into shenanigans in their thousands years of life as demigods so you can’t tell me they didn’t go to other worlds a lot when they were young.

So on two occasions, garmadon had sweet but short relationships with women before leaving again, and those women found other partners they married. They assumed the child they had came from them, not the stranger of their brief relationship.

You can imagine, for at least the heartfilias, the surprise when the other genetics kick in

Look garmadon is a demigod dragon/oni hybrid you cannot tell me his genetics won’t be weird

I mean look at Lloyd he received most of the oni genetics and the elemental power.

Agh I’m getting off track ANYWAY

Lucy is the oldest child, Neil the middle and Lloyd the youngest. The biggest age gap is between Lloyd and both his siblings. Neil is maybe four or five years younger than Lucy. And Lloyd is 12 years younger than Lucy.

Now back to the other stuff

Lucy received a lot of dragon genetics from garmadon. You can imagine what happy little terror she was. Some of her genetics are physical attributes such as her teeth being sharper than normal or her bones being denser. She gave her parents so many heart attacks.

I also want to develop how this also effects her celestial summoning and celestial magic in general.

I’m going to take so many liberties with it but I’ll save that for another time

Neil is mostly human, his Greek heritage and power of luck aside he’s the one who has almost entirely skipped out in the oni and dragon genetics and the instincts that come with them (I bet it’s the luck) though he also has some uncharacteristicly sharp teeth when he gets angry.

He doesn’t have to deal with nearly the same amount of drama or chaos as the other two do, so he’s really chill. Even later when the Cronus thing is going on. He’s so used to the bullshit his siblings deal with that it does not phase him at all.

Now Lloyd of course got the brunt of the oni genetics, though he’s not at the stage where he can access his second form. It effects his behavior in a lot of ways that I’ll probably go into later.

Now onto the other part.

Lucy and Neil meet first. Lucy when she wants to escape her dad’s sad and depressing and psychologically abusive home environment and the fate her dad wants to force her into, subconsciously uses her magic to send herself to the closest relative

This sends her straight to another world and through the roof of Neil’s house.

His parents are chill with it, and Neil’s mom vaguely recalls a handsome stranger doing the same thing at some point.

Explaining her situation and what happened (his parents are used to this and the Greek bullshit of their lives this is nothing) they quickly realize that the stranger is Neil’s and Lucy’s dad. But they can’t just let her return to a dangerous environment (in their world Jude would have been imprisoned for child abuse/neglect and attempted child marriage and trafficking) and decide to keep her there with them.

It’s a much better environment for her and it takes a long time for her to feel comfortable with therapy and the calm attitude of the home.

She and Neil get along great and are similar in many aspects. There are many shopping sprees and late night gossip meetings with snacks, nail painting, face masks and romcoms in the background

They also found out the hard way that they both have latent luck abilities, and that when they are together that luck cancels out so it’s just normal luck. As seen when Neil was doing something he normally would and then was suddenly injured when that has never happened before.

Lucy eventually leaves to travel her own world and join the guild of her dreams. (I won’t go into it here but her dragon instincts really get into it with the other slayers and erza)

Also the seven year time prison thing doesn’t happen and instead it’s like 3 months

A few years later, a few guild wars and an actual war happened, Lucy unlocked her full dragon form and rocked acnologia’s shit and killed him. And Neil’s been chosen by the gods of his world to kill their dad/relative of chaos.

At this point the traveling to other worlds is figured out, and Lucy would rather Neil come to her so she doesn’t cancel out his luck if a surprise attack occurs and he’ll need it.

She’s a free mentor to the team and as she’s a person who’s killed a chaos being her insight is extremely helpful

Neil and Lucy decide they want to meet their birth father and decide to use the same spell Lucy did the first time to find him.

Instead they found themselves in a frozen cold region with no one for miles around

And a small fragile 8 year old Lloyd who is the only one around.

They immediately know he’s a sibling and are absolutely furious at whoever abandoned him out here by himself. Their dad forgotten.

Lloyd is hesitant to trust them but his instincts recognize them as elders in the family so he goes with them. They learn that their shared dad is in the underworld and that Lloyd was supposed to be with his mom or uncle and away from their dad, as garmadon feared he would hurt Lloyd in anyway and wanted him safe and away from him. Learning their bio dad isn’t at fault was nice but they are still angry about the abandonment and obvious neglect and possibly abuse from the boarding school on Lloyd’s behalf (if it’s burned to the ground and all the children being out in better places with actual proper therapy and help for their psychological issues and neurological disorders and teachers arrested then no one needs to know)

For a lot of the time he’s set up with Neil’s parents or Lucy and the guild. They all adore him and are angry on his behalf.

Lucy is completely furious when she bonds with Lloyd and knows his story is considerably mirroring her own and sends her spiraling.

Neil is angry on both of his siblings behalf’s and will be endlessly petty. Lloyd spends a year happy and fully integrated into the family.

Then they hear new that garmadon was defeated by ninjas.

They of course have to see it for themselves and travel to the underworld and finally meet him.

He knew about Lloyd, but now he’s completely blind sighted by two other children he didn’t know about.

Surprised and horrified that there were two other children of his he didn’t get to know or love or be worried about.

They’re there now though, and now he has two other spaces in his heart to keep his sanity.

Honestly I could keep going but I really need to stop or this will go one forever. I’ll pick this up again later

#crossover fic ideas #fairytail #ninjago #cott #class of the titans #Neil #lucy heartfilia #lloyd garmadon #I seriously need to stop or my brain won’t let me sleep #it won’t let me sleep anyway #because adhd #I’ll make another one to further get into it #but I’ve already gotten too into it already #will I even write this? do I have the mental capacity to write this? #probably not #still want to share the idea though #who knows maybe someone else will take liberties #as long as I’m credited if they do it’s fine #fanfiction

[kalims]

Hi, there! :D

I don't know if my request will be taken into account but you mentioned that it's okay to try.

I am not throwin' away my shot >:D (sorry my indoor theater kid comes out from time to time)

Type: Headcanons

Reader: Neutral

Scenary: The NCR boys see that a student from Noble Bell College or RSA who has been trying to flirt with the prefect, in a bold move steals the prefect's (first) kiss. How would they react and what would they feel?

I feel like it would be a rollercoaster of occurrences and complete chaos in NCR xD

If my request does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if not, take your time and without pressure, thank you 💐🌼✨👍✍️I love your TWST fics they always make me smile .

whisk away

premise. despite your many efforts of evading your seeming admirer, they remain persistent in their pursuit. you've considered just leaving them in the dust without an explanation whatsoever but you're too stunned to process the fact that they've just kissed you without a warning. next thing you know there's a murderous aura approaching.

characters. silver, jade, deuce, kalim, vil

note. you didn't really specify which characters jhshs so I took the liberty of scouring your blog and just put the ones you seem to like ^^ and I kid you not, used a wheel for the other 2 lol (so sorry, was gonna post this earlier but got busy since presentations came up so I only finished now.)

silver

has a mixture of shock and anger. which is mostly for your sake honestly, he wasn't gonna intervene cause he felt like you would wanna deal with it on your own so he feels the absolute mortification slipping into his bones. if he wasn't fully awake, then he definitely is now!

fully ready to talk some sense into that idiot who has no sense of space, hello?

last time he knew, you weren't really dating anyone. silver would know if you did, cause you both talk practically everyday and a lover would be something he should be aware of... unless you didn't talk? I mean, who else would just kiss you like that?

someone unpleasant. he decides. one look at your face and he knows immediately that it wasn't something you expected as well.

just pulls up with a rare look of anger directed to the student, brows furrowed, shoulders tense and all. everyone's used to the serene, calm look on his features so seeing him look so different probably put off said student so they scampered after a promise made by silver if they dared to stick around.

"leave, or find out what happens if you don't."

gone is the anger *poof* and is fretting over you now. are you okay? do you want him to knock some sense into that idiot? literally tell him anything, order him to do anything, and he'll do it (within reason) my guy is just here for your sake tbh.

kinda gloomy cause damn, that was your first? he wanted both of yours to be first and some grade a hole just decided to shatter all that. it makes him all the more irritated so if he can't have your first kiss, he'll just take your second, and every single other kiss you'll give.

jade

take the murderous aura and multiply it tenfold!!

jade doesn't really need to reach you and make his presence known by a few words cause it seems like everyone but you within 10 feet radius of him is sensing the murderous aura he's emitting. if it's not feeling that, then it's seeing the eery dark smile present on his face.

and he seems to be having a death march towards a specific direction so everybody knows where to avoid atleast. cause it seems like anyone on his path is gonna get trampled and no one likes a messy hall.

student in front of you pales, deluding themselves that maybe he's just heading somewhere behind them to vent out that rage or something but they glance behind and almost piss their pants when there is in fact, no one present near anywhere and he's getting closer.

so... they wanted to live so they just bolted out. an experience with one of the tweels won't be good news, and if jade is the one who has them in his sights... they'll take the head start thank you very much.

with the students face memorized and tucked into a corner of his mind he smiles almost innocently at you when you spot him and strike the most casual of conversation.

well, that's under the guise atleast. he's shooting you subtle questions about that person to which you reply innocently. oblivious to the grave you're digging for them yourself.

oddly enough jade started being strangely affectionate, a hand on the small of your back, maybe on your shoulder, arm, or a pat on your head as gratitude. but he seems to like kissing the back of your hand a lot...

*turns his head in their direction after kissing your hand*

deuce

I'll be perfectly honest. he doesn't really have much of an impact in terms of the intense aura that should have been felt. he looks a normal degree of angry, that's why the person hasn't gotten chased off even with the clear signs that deuce will be swinging a fist at probes.

unfortunate that's exactly what the person does. despite your clear reaction of disgust they still use you to rile up deuce. cooing at him while reaching for you, and chuckling about how they didn’t even know him, nor is it any of his business to interfere between two... lovers?

oh so they wanted to impact? they're gonna get one right now 👊 since it seems like they want to get to know him so bad they can get well acquainted with his fists, you know?

he made a promise to himself not to get involved with these type of mishaps! or at the very least resort to more peaceful methods than using violence as a sort of communication. the guilt eats him up a little but he thinks he'd never stand for someone who would disrespect you so blatantly!

almost comically, he looks like he spouts a pair of ears that of a dog's and turns to you. looking more apologetic compared to the fiery look he had a second ago, if he had a tail it would be tucked between his legs out of shame or something.

"I'm really sorry," he says. sulking. deuce apologizes to you, not for his choice of knocking out this random in the middle of the street but because of the fact that he did it in front of you. (also he's kinda jealous...)

if asked, he can, and WILL do it again.

don't blame him though! discreetly whisks you away to grab a bite. having literally no regards to the body looking like it's soul got knocked out laying, and looking out of place on the ground. maybe someone will check on them but definitely not him, they deserve it!

kalim

gasps loudly. "noooo!"

which is like a public proclamation that seeing that did everything but please him. which also means he's basically admitting he's jealous in an indirect way, might as well just say he likes you or something (he probably will if asked because he thinks it's nothing worthy of hiding.)

bounds up to you asking who that is quite loudly to the point where it would seem like he just stumbled upon you cheating on him. it doesn't help that he actually looks sad, teary and all. jamil is off, having paused in his trail since he was previously chasing the boy who ran off.

now he isn’t sure if he wants to get involved now. this is so embarrassing.

lowkey other student would just look back and forth to you, then to kalim. the latter in question unintentionally ignored his existence to be honest, since he was too busy shaking your shoulders and probing the answer of you.

"why would you kiss a stranger...?" he trails off, you did answer. kalim is genuinely wondering to himself if it was that easy cause damn, he scratches his head. that made no sense (says the guy who is making no sense.)

he makes it so obvious that he's pondering with the finger under his chin, eyes lost pointed at the air and the unnecessary loud humming... at this point the atmosphere became more awkward because you and the student is staring at him in bewilderment.

drag him off please, and explain it to him elsewhere. public is NOT a good place. so instead of him saving you out of a situation like this, you save him? talk about being built different...

vil

what in the sevens... he surely hopes his eyes are working correctly lest he needs contact lens, or glasses for that matter. either way he'll positively be as beautiful as he ever was.

although he's very pleased that someone notices the extent of your beauty, there are... other ways to express fondness admiration for you, and vil just can't respect someone who doesn't seem to have any shame for themselves for pressing on boundaries.

so this... fool clearly is a mere taint on your image!!! rid of them immediately! you needn't dirty your pretty mouth, rook does love cleansing the world of dirt like them so it's for the better good if they just never dare to appear to your face ever again.

what better way to hurt someone than aim for their pride? *trash talks so good about their attitude that they actually be pondering their life choices*

don't get him wrong. he doesn't like them, like at all. vil can full well do more damage by nit picking details about them they probably aren't even aware of but he'd never willingly give another person a reason to be insecure about themselves, even if they did terrible things.

plus, there's better ways to teach someone a lesson. they'll learn.

who wouldn’t be scared of an angry vil? they scampered away pretty quickly from a few words, even quicker when he mentioned rook but it's their problem to be paranoid whether the hunter is following them or not to be honest.

frets over you right after. living the dream.

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed ! #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fluff #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #silver x reader #twst silver x reader #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #deuce spade x reader #deuce x reader #kalim al asim x reader #kalim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #x gn reader

[reiding-writing]

Congrats on 1000 followers! That's such a huge milestone! For the climacteric event, could you do a continuation of 'Takedown'? Maybe a role reversal, where cold!reader witnesses a badass moment from Spencer (whether his 'takedown' is physical or verbal is up to you) and gets flustered about it? I love your cold!reader series so much, it's such a great character dynamic with the rest of the cast!! Congrats again!

TAKEDOWN [CLIMACTERIC]

/ˈteɪkˌdaʊn/ /part one/

Spencer might be a know-it-all, but at least he actually knows the things that he talks about.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, just some guy being really obnoxious and annoying, mild mansplaining

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff || 2.4k || event masterlist!!

a/n: we’re gonna ignore i uploaded this prematurely and just focus on the fic thanks 😭🫶

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!

this is a continuation of my original ’takedown’ fic for cold!reader with a role reversal!

Spencer wouldn’t say that he liked to ‘show off’.

He knew he was smarter than most people, and his teammates knew he was smarter than most people, and that meant that when he displayed his intelligence to provide important details about a case, the team would take his word for it.

It saved a lot of time in explanations for where he got his information from and allowed for profiles to be built at twice the speed.

But sometimes asking someone to quote a source was necessary.

Case in point, a police detective from Indiana who just would not leave the BAU team alone as they tried to curate a profile for the serial killer they were hunting.

Some of his muses, most definitely flukes in knowledge, actually did have a productive outcome.

“A majority of stabbing cases have an underlying sexual motive, so I’ve taken the liberty of looking into the sex-offences registry for anyone who could be our killer,”

And some…

“Have we considered the possibility that our killer is actually killers, I mean if you look at the stab patterns across the victims, there’s a clear dominant and submissive personality no?”

…were the exact opposite.

“What you’re seeing is a progression of the unsub’s confidence,” Spencer shook his head slightly at the detectives attempt at an explanation. “The slashes are only jagged and uncertain in the two first victims, with all of the victims after that displaying much more confident wounds, which clearly shows the evolution of one individual, not multiple,”

He didn’t like having to shut other people’s trains of thought down, it was something that he’d gone through enough to not want to put anyone else through it, but when they were the complete opposite of productive, sometimes it was for the best.

It was remarkably easy to tell when somebody had read something on the internet rather than actually going through the training required to be competent in a certain specialty. Especially when it came to the forensic side of things.

Throwing in key words like dominant and submissive personalities didn’t mean that he knew what he was on about. It just meant that he’d read a few case articles on a certain subject and then passed that off as a rounded understanding of whatever concept he was trying to explain.

And it was really frustrating.

“What’s wrong with you today?” You enter the put aside meeting room with narrowed eyes, a cup of takeout coffee in your hand that serves as a relic of you being able to escape from the hellhole that Spencer was inherently trapped in.

“It’s nothing, i’m alright,” He presses his lips into that awkward smile of his, but it lacks any of the genuity that it’s usually accompanied by, merely a shell of a smile that Spencer knows you’re not buying.

A quirk of your eyebrow is the only push needed for his façade to break immediately.

“It’s just—” Spencer exhales heavily through his nose, biting the inside of his mouth in a will for him to keep himself together. “I’m just frustrated.”

You gesture with your head for him to continue, and it’s like you’ve blown a hole in a dam with how fast everything comes tumbling out.

“Officer Harrison keeps interrupting the investigation and talking about absolute nonsense under the guise of it being objective fact and I’ve spent so long correcting him that I haven’t actually managed to do anything,” He gets it all out in a single breath, and it’s honestly quite impressive to watch until he’s caught at the end with barely any air left in his lungs and has to take a moment to catch it up.

“I just wish he would leave me alone,”

You haven’t met Officer Harrison, too busy with the coroner and taking interviews, but if you had to make an educated guess you’d say Spencer’s apparent frustration was well founded.

He wasn’t one to exaggerate things.

“Tell him to then,” You shrug out your answer like it’s easy, leaning your lower back against the table to sip at your coffee.

“I’m not like you,” Spencer sighs exasperatedly, his shoulders in a slump alongside his mind. “I can’t just— scare people off,”

You give a small quirk of your eyebrow at his assessment of your personality, and Spencer can see the small traces of amusement in the corners of your mouth. “You have the authority Reid, you outrank him tenfold,”

“I know, I just—” Spencer shrugs, defeated. “I don’t know, I just can’t,” He uncaps his marker to return to the barren whiteboard to try and actually get some decent headway on the profile with a solemn expression, submitting himself to the inevitability of having to do two jobs at once.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Your offer sounds almost like an assassination proposal, monotonous and almost too serious.

“No,” Spencer shakes his head lightly. “No it’s alright, it’s not your problem, I’ll be okay,”

“You’e sure?”

“Yeah,” He gives you a small nod over his shoulder, lips pressed into a line as a grateful but dismissive smile. “Thanks anyway,”

You push yourself from the table with a sigh, joining Spencer at his side to pull the marker from his hand.

“Wh—“

“Go make yourself a coffee Reid.” You cap the marker with a knowing tilt of your head, putting it away in your back pocket so he can’t try and take it back from you. “You need to take five and calm down, you aren’t going to get anything done like this,”

You can see the want to turn your idea down, to say that he’s fine and not affected by the officer in his expression, but you both know it’s not something to be acted on, and so gives you a small nod with an exasperated exhale as he drags himself out of the meeting room to do as you’d asked.

He’s grateful for it really, the warm ceramic under his hands serving as a grounding point and sickly sweetness of the drink as it reaches his taste-buds a welcome distraction from the rampant frustration inhabiting his prefrontal cortex, but that small voice in the back of his head continues to torment him about the inevitability of having to deal with the officer again and all of th

He knows he should at least try to let it go over his head. If he stepped back into the meeting room like he was you probably wouldn’t even let him get one foot in the door before sending him on a longer break, but he didn’t want a break, he wanted to work, to crack this profile open and actually make some real headway.

He just needed to take a second to breathe.

When he does return to the meeting room, you’re not alone anymore, and Spencer can practically feel the amount of will power you’re using to keep your mouth shut as Officer Harrison rambles on about something he’s not quite close enough to hear yet.

“…very unlikely for that to actually happen,” The officer points to a section of scrawl you’d added to the whiteboard after Spencer’s departure, something about brief episodes of mania as a possible reason behind the unsub’s violent attacks.

“That’s not actually true, it’s been disproved dozens of times over,” You shake off his attempt at over-explaining your own theory to you with a full tone and a shake of your head, a clear indication for him to leave you alone.

He doesn’t of course, and Spencer swears he sees your eye twitch as Officer Harrison continues to talk aimlessly.

“I’m just saying, there’s research to support the idea that serial killers make their crimes more gruesome than they need to post-mortem so they can plead insanity in court if they’re caught,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, and you quirk your eyebrow at his explanation.

“And where did you get that information from?”

“A doctorate thesis paper from Stanford,” Officer Harrison crosses his arms like he’s secured a victory over you in knowing something that an expert doesn’t. “You’ve probably never read it, it was an investigation into the differences between legal and clinical insanity, and it concluded that serial murderers over gruesomise their kills to plead legal insanity in court despite being completely sound of mind,” He points back at your scribbling with his index finger, knocking his knuckle against the board. “So this theory isn’t worth looking into sweetheart, trust me,”

The use of the placeholder ‘pet’ name makes your eyebrows furrow until there’s a prominent frown line between them. “I have read that paper, for your information,” You spin the whiteboard marker between the fingers of your left hand, likely a way to expel some of the tension in your muscles as you grow increasingly frustrated with the man.

“You don’t have to lie sweetheart, it’s alright, no one’s expecting you to have read an 85,000 word paper from almost a decade ago, I just like to educate myself in my free time,” He shrugs with a nonchalant expression, but there are traces of what’s almost condescendion in his tone and Spencer decides it’s time to stop this little debate before Officer Harrison ends up with a broken nose and you end up getting a very long talk from Hotch.

“She wrote it,” Spencer presses his lips into a tight line as he walks around the table to join you at the whiteboard.

“Excuse me?” The officer blinks at Spencer blankly, eyebrows knitting together in a mix of confusion and a slight amount of irritation at Spencer’s intrusion.

“The thesis paper you’re talking about? She was the one who wrote it,” He nods his head in your direction, and he can physically see the way the officer’s air of intellectual superiority drains from his face.

“And I’m not actually convinced that you’ve read the whole thing yourself, everything you mentioned was part of the paper’s abstract, which at an average reading speed of 238 words per minute, should have only taken you a minute and 24 seconds to read, rather than the 5 hours and 54 minutes to read the whole thing,” Spencer feels a little guilty for how good the drop in Officer Harrison’s face makes him feel, but it’s easily overrun by inherent relief at getting the frustration off his chest.

“Can you name anything important from that paper apart from what you just mentioned? Anything at all?” The frustration underlying Spencer’s tone was obvious, and it was almost gratifying for you to watch him take a stand in his own beliefs for once.

There’s a few moments where he pauses, giving Officer Harrison the very slim opportunity to redeem himself and prove he had actually read through the whole document.

Neither of you needed to watch him try and stumble through his answer to know that he didn’t.

“Maybe if you had read it you’d know that the ‘fact’ you just mentioned, was proportional to the percentage of serial murderers that weren’t diagnosed with any mental illness prior to their arrest, which was only 63% of the total sample that was analysed. 114 of the murderers were actually diagnosed with some form of clinical psychosis, which is still entirely probable for the unsub that we’re looking for,” There’s a lingering trace of snark dousing Spencer’s tone, joined by an elevated sense of conviction as he narrows his eyes towards Officer Harrison. “Or maybe you’d at least remember that it was actually 97,502 words long, not 85,000,”

The fact that Spencer recalled such specific details of your thesis shouldn’t be a shock to you, his eidetic memory was practically a staple of his character after all, but considering you weren’t even aware he’d read it in the first place until five minutes ago made that revelation hit you just a little harder than it probably should.

“If you want to act like an expert in something, become an expert in something,” Spencer crosses his arms and it may as well have been a done deal. “Don’t pass off surface level, incorrect information as objective fact, all you’re doing is slowing the real experts down,”

The assertiveness in his tone, whilst occasionally used when arguing his point for a specific topic, was much more present as he shut down the Officer, and it was almost a little too gratifying to watch the wind get knocked out of his sails at Spencer’s reprimand.

“Now if you’d please excuse us, we have a profile to work on,” He gestures to the whiteboard with his head, and Officer Harrison is off like a whippet, retreating out of the room with his tail between his legs and a traffic light red coating his face from the embarrassment.

You give a dragged out whistle as the door closes. “Congratulations on telling him to leave you alone,”

Spencer laughs almost pathetically. Was he really so socially inept that he had to be congratulated on standing up for himself?

“Thanks,” He presses his lips into that typical Spencer smile as he fiddles aimlessly with the button on the cuff of his right sleeve. “And uh, thanks for letting me handle it on my own,”

You shrug nonchalantly. “You asked me to,”

“I know, I just— thank you,”

“It’s nothing to thank me for Reid,” You shake your head dismissively, but Spencer knows you’ve accepted his thanks through the slight quirk in the corners of your mouth that break the ever-present scowl that cements itself on your face. “I didn’t know you read my thesis,”

Spencer blinks for a moment before giving you a small and enthusiastic nod. “Three times actually, it’s extremely well written from a logical perspective, and the transcripts from the interviews you held were very interesting,”

And there’s the Spencer you knew.

“You’re an incredible psychologist, it’s no wonder you skipped your bachelors,” He emphasises his words with exaggerated head movements that make the curls of his hair bounce against his forehead.

“Thank you, Reid, that’s very sweet,” There’s a fondness to your voice that you’d deny if he pointed out, but you’re trying much less to hide it from Spencer than you would from anyone else in your team.

Spencer Reid had read your thesis three times. You wouldn’t be surprised if he knew it better than you did. You’re almost certain he knew it better than you did. He could probably recite the whole thing word for word where chunks of it had already been forgotten in your mind.

It wasn’t exactly something revolutionary, but it may as well have been.

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

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Nobody Needs to Know

Pairing: EddiexFemReader

Request: eddie x henderson fem!reader having sex and dustin catches them 🫣

No worries. Dustin doesn't see anything. I could never traumatize that sweet kid like that. He just surmises what happened after the fact. I took a little liberty with the story since this was all I had to go on. 😉

18+ ONLY

Your fingers wrapped around the folded piece of paper that had been slipped into your locker, a tight lipped smile crossing your face, knowing exactly who had slipped it in there. You unfolded the lined notebook paper, reading the handwriting that had become so familiar these past months. 

Meet me in the janitor’s closet

Eyes darting around you to make sure no one else noticed, you slammed your locker shut, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. Your feet hurried, heart pounding, your body eager to get there even as your head was telling you this was stupid. You were going to get caught. You couldn’t keep sneaking around with him like this, but fuck if it didn’t make it that much hotter. 

You glanced around once again to make sure no one was around and pushed the door of the closet open. It was pitch black but you were hesitant to turn on a light, not wanting the beam to shine under the door and give away that someone was in here. You paused, holding your breath, wondering if you’d made a mistake when a hand shot out, grabbing onto your wrist. In one swift motion, your other wrist was grabbed, hands pinned above you, your back pressed against the door. 

“You’ve been driving me fucking crazy in that little skirt, princess,” a low voice rumbled in your ear and you pressed your thighs together as desire pulsed through your center. “Sitting there in math class, tapping that pencil, crossing your legs…all that skin…”

“That sounds like your problem,” you managed, attempting to sound more in control than you felt at that moment. “Maybe you need to work on your self control, Eddie. Don’t you have enough girly mags at home to help care for your poor little male urges.”

“Oh, we’re mouthy today, huh? Let’s shut you up, shall we?”

His mouth collided with yours, a mashing of tongue, lips, and teeth as he circled your wrists with the fingers of one hand. The other was sliding up your skirt, along the skin of your inner thigh. You moaned, pressing toward him and he chuckled. 

“Not so mouthy when it’s your urges that need taking care of, are you?”

“For the love of Christ, shut up. All you do is…” you muttered but were quickly cut off by the whimper that fell from your lips as Eddie’s fingers dipped under the side of your panties, running teasingly along your slit. 

You and Eddie had been sneaking around for two months, meeting in his van, the drama room, the janitor’s closet, the spot in the woods where he always met people to make his sales. It started as a drunken mistake and spiraled from there because no matter how much you told yourself that this was bad idea, that you needed to stop, your body fucking craved him. He was a drug and you were hopelessly addicted. 

Two of his fingers pressed into you and you bit your bottom lip hard to keep from announcing to the whole school that you were getting finger fucked by Eddie Munson. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were in the band. You were top in your class. You had big plans to go to law school after graduation, having gotten into one of the top colleges in the country. Eddie was a horrible distraction you didn’t need but damn it, you wanted it. Not to mention he was your brother, Dustin’s, best friend and that was just awkward as hell. Dustin would never shut up about it if he knew what was going on. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? No insults to throw my way,” Eddie teased, curling his fingers, making your legs shake. “No. You can put me down all you want, princess, but at the end of the day, you keep coming back because you want this. You love all the dirty little things I do to your body.” His tongue painted a line along the side of your neck, his thumb making circles around your clit. “You want my fingers pressed inside you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you admitted, chest rising and falling with heaving breaths. 

“You want my mouth all over your skin…”

“I do…” you whispered, your head falling to the side as he licked and nipped at the flesh on your neck and collarbone. 

“Yeah, you do…” His fingers left you and in the pitch black, you heard the sound of his belt buckle as he undid it. You heard the familiar crinkle of the condom wrapper and something deep within you coiled tightly in anticipation. Eddie hooked under your knee with his arm, opening you fully to him. “And you fucking love when my cock is buried deep within this pussy. Come on, princess. Use that mouth to tell me how badly you want this.”

Your breath caught, body wound like a goddamn rubber band, just ready to snap. You didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but damn it, you wanted him. You wanted him to take you hard and fast in this closet and he knew it. Eddie had caught on pretty quickly that you wanted this just as badly as he did. 

“I mean…if you don’t want it…” he said slowly, his arm slipping out from under your leg.

“Fuck…I hate you,” you growled. 

“You might hate me but you don’t hate the things I do to you.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, picturing that little crooked smile. 

He had no idea how right he was, how many times you’d laid in your bed imagining it was him touching you. He had no idea how often you snuck glances at him throughout the day, drumming his pencils and doodling in class, his loud antics in lunch, the way he sauntered through the hallway, all that wild hair billowing behind him. Eddie Munson had consumed you in a way you didn’t think was possible. 

“Fine, you want me to say it?” you relented. “I want your cock, Eddie. I fucking love your cock and I want you to fuck me right up against this door until I can’t walk straight.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

He held your leg and slammed into you forcefully, rattling the bottles on the shelves. You let out a cry of pleasure before remembering you were in school. Eddie’s free hand clamped over your mouth as he sent your body smashing against the wood of the door again and again. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Eddie demanded and all you could do with his hand over your mouth was nod. “Yeah. You put on a show for everyone else, the sweet good girl who never breaks the rules but you only let me see the real you, don’t you? The dirty, feral little beast inside that wants to break loose.”

You’d been with guys before but none of them had ever been like Eddie. They went through the motions, fumbling with your bra, fingers prodding you but never finding the right spots. Eddie found the right spots every damn time. You worked so hard to be what your parents expected, what your teachers expected, what this whole damn down expected. The only time you really felt like you could let go, like you could stop trying so hard, was when you were with him. He brought out a side of you that you hadn’t even known existed.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he lifted your leg higher, allowing him to go deeper. He slowed the pace, keeping you on the edge but not quite letting you tumble off just yet. Your leg shook beneath you and you gripped Eddie’s shoulders to keep from falling to the floor. 

“Come on princess…it’s just me and you in here. You don’t have to pretend with me. Let that freak flag fly, baby. Just let go for me,” Eddie urged. “Come all over my cock, pretty girl.”

A scream clawed its way from your throat, the only thing stopping it from ringing through the hall of Hawkins was Eddie’s hand muffling the sound. Your nails dug into his flesh as your orgasm ripped through you, sending shockwaves of pleasure from your head to your toes that had your whole body humming, vibrating with ecstasy and relief. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, never ceasing his thrusting, his hand leaving your mouth to grip your other hip, helping you stay upright as he followed, fingertips leaving marks on your skin. “Fuck…”

Eddie slid from inside you and you heard the thunk of the condom as he tossed it in the trash can. You moved to reach for your panties but he was already there, pulling them up your legs. His hands came to either side of your head, caging you in. 

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked. “You got what you wanted.”

“Nah, not everything,” Eddie replied and his lips were on your skin again. But this was different. It wasn’t urgent and demanding. It was soft and affectionate, completely throwing you off balance.

“Seriously…” you said softly, a nervous laugh bubbling up within you. “Eddie, what are you doing?”

“Go out with me.”

“What?”

“Go out with me,” he repeated. “Look, I know all this cloak and dagger shit has been fun, but I want more. I want to take you out for a damn burger. I want to see a movie with you. I want to hold your hand and kiss you and leave you notes in your locker that aren’t just meetup time for secret sex. I mean, I still want to do that too but I want more than just this…what do you think?”

“I…Eddie…” you began, your brain struggling to catch up to what was happening.

“Just forget it,” he huffed, pushing off the door and away from you. “I get it. It’s fun to have the freak as your dirty little secret but you don’t actually want anyone to know you’d sink that low, right?”

“No. That’s not what I…”

“Seriously, it’s fine. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. Of course the perfect little straight As princess doesn’t want to get dirty dating the drug dealing loser.”

He wrenched open the door, almost knocking you over in the process. You darted after him but you both stopped at the sight of Dustin Henderson. He was leaning against the wall, a shit eating grin on his face as he took in the sight of the two of you, hair probably a mess, coming out of the janitor’s closet together.

“Holy shit! I knew it!” he yelled, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I mean, I didn’t but I knew something was going on! You two have been so weird lately! Wait! Were you two…oh gross!”

“Shut it Henderson!” Eddie growled, shoving past him. 

“Eddie…” you began but he was flying down the hall, moving as quickly away from you as he could. 

“Oh damn…did I interrupt a lover’s quarrel or something?” asked Dustin. 

“Or something…” you muttered, grabbing your backpack from the floor of the closet and trudging off to History, needing to get away from your nosy ass brother before he could give you the third degree. It felt appropriate because that was what you and Eddie appeared to be now, history.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #smut requests #request

[viranellee]

you'd never guess (i'd never know)

synopsis: the only thing eddie roundtree likes about billy dunne is his younger sister.

warnings: smut, dirty talk, swearing, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill, but it's never mentioned)

a/n: the lack of eddie smut on here is appalling

⁠ ♡

“Where are you going?”

Frozen in your tracks, you slowly turn around and meet Eddie’s still sleepy but inquisitive gaze, and as his eyes look you over from head to toe, it morphs into a distinctive shade of lustful. You allow yourself the liberty to admire him as he does the same to you - unguarded and vulnerable in his half-awake state, the nest of tangled light brown hair on top of his head, his naked body painted with love bites underneath the white hotel sheets.

You want to kiss him.

“Sweetheart, c’mon. Come ‘ere.” He tries coaxing you, but you know the rules by now. No matter how sweet the temptation is, no matter the things his deep, husky morning voice does to your insides, no matter the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest everytime you lay eyes on him, you need to be unfailingly secretive about this, whatever it is, between you two. Otherwise the deadly tornado of a man your brother Billy is will turn it into ruin with a single flick of his hand.

Even still, it seems that you’re the only one rightfully worried.

"Eds, I have to leave, you know this.”

Something hardens in his gaze for a moment, but it quickly slips away. It pains you to watch it. You lean down to kiss his cheek in an attempt to make him feel better, but he turns his head around, capturing your lips with his. You gasp and instinctively fist your hands into his hair as he rearranges you to sit on his lap. There’s something desperate about the way he holds you and kisses you this particular morning and it sets everything in you on fire. You moan into his kiss despite your brain screaming at you to get the fuck up and leave before anybody finds out you’re not in your room. Eddie seems to sense your overthinking, as he usually does, and slips his cold hands underneath your blouse, letting his long fingers trace your spine, trying to soothe you.

"Focus on me. Don’t think about anything else.” Eddie instructs and you suddenly feel lighter.

You kiss him again, a silent thanks for bringing you back to the present, and it’s his turn to moan as he presses you down on his hard-on.

"A couple of kisses and I’m already rock hard like a fuckin’ teenager. Jesus, the things you do to me.” He mutters, more to himself than you, but the words still manage to leave their impact on your nether regions.

“Eddie, Eddie…” you pant as his mouth begins to place greedy kisses down your neck. “We’re…we’re going to be late for breakfast.”

He laughs against your skin and you swear you’ve never felt something so good.

“I’m already having my breakfast, sweetheart, and it’s much better than the shit they serve down there.”

Fuck.

---

“Anyone got any idea where Eddie and my sister are?” Graham asks his friends, in the midst of swallowing his piece of omelet.   

Warren shrugs.

“Eddie’s probably still sleeping. I mean, when has he ever shown up for breakfast on time? Let the guy get some sleep, man.” 

Graham nods a couple of times, deeming the explanation logical. It doesn't stop him from thinking about the person left out from it.

"Yeah, sure," he starts "but my sister always shows up. I...I don't know, maybe she slept in this time, but maybe I should go up and check." 

Karen suddenly pipes in from her place next to Graham, putting her hand on his thigh. 

"Don't. For we all know, she's just sleeping in." She says, looking at Warren from across the table pointedly, who takes the hint and nods reassuringly at Graham. "And you know how she gets when someone wakes her up. Let her rest." 

"But what if she's hungry when she wakes up?" 

Karen sighs, closing her eyes for a couple of seconds. Warren inhales sharply, a tell-tale sign of him holding in his laughter. 

"Graham. She isn't an infant. I'm sure your sister is fully capable of getting breakfast for herself." She says, but he still doesn't look entirely convinced.

"Yeah, but I don't want her to be alone." Graham pauses. "I don't want her to feel lonely, y'know." 

"Hey, chill man. She and Eddie wake up around the same time anyway, they usually get breakfast together, don't they? I really don't think there's anything to worry about." Warren adds, as he takes the last bite of his P&J sandwich. 

Graham silently leans back in his chair and Karen takes the opportunity to change the subject.

"Anyway, uh, how's Lisa, Warren?" 

KAREN SIRKO: I knew she and Eddie were fucking from the moment I saw them together. 

WARREN ROJAS: For the record, I had no idea they were fucking. 

GRAHAM DUNNE: [sighs] Can we not talk about this, please? 

---

"Yeah, just like that. Fuck, you look so good bouncing on my cock like that." 

You don't know how long you two have been going at it. What you do know, however, is that Eddie Roundtree, the insatiable sex maniac, has already put you through five different positions and this is the sixth one.

"Eddie, I…I don't think I can..." You start saying as you feel your strength leaving your body, but he knows. He always knows. 

He tightens his hold on your hips and drags you up and down his cock and you have to physically put a hand over your mouth when he hits that spot inside of you. 

"Found it, huh?" He comments, with that goddamn cocky glint in his eye and you would have normally rolled your eyes at him if it weren't for the fact that they were already rolling towards the back of your head. 

"Shut...up!" You pant, and he smirks. As soon as you see that smirk, you involuntarily tighten around him. Eddie groans when he feels it and you lean down to kiss his Adam's apple, and then - him. He cups the back of your neck with one large hand and you shiver.

"I'm, I'm close. Eddie, fuck!" You barely manage to stutter out and he goes even faster, the sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. He presses a sweet kiss to your collarbone and immediately goes back to whispering filthy things into your ear.

"Cum for me, love. Cum on my cock." He urges, breathless, something swimming in his eyes you've never seen before, and you do just that. 

You think you might have screamed. You don't know. All you remember is Eddie.

You hide your face in his shoulder, sensitive and exhausted - he cums shortly after, your name on his lips like a prayer. You sigh when you feel him soften inside of you. He falls back on the pillows and you fall along with him, head on his chest and his hand playing with your hair. 

It's comfortably silent after that, so silent in fact, that for a second you think Eddie might have fallen asleep. You tilt your head upwards to place a kiss on his jawline, but you find him already staring back at you, an uncharacteristically contemplative look on his gorgeous face. 

"What?" You question, growing increasingly worried. 

This is it, you think, this is when he ends things. 

My worst fear is coming true.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Y'know, I've played in front of hundreds of thousands of people. I know what anxiety feels like. But laying in that bed with her, looking at her, was the most nervous I'd ever felt in my entire life. 

"I…" He begins and closes his mouth, as if carefully choosing his words, but doing nothing to ease the pit in your stomach. "Well..." 

You stand up upright, a typical "Dunne frown", as he liked calling it, on your face. 

He should look me in the eyes, at the very fucking least. 

"Oh, is this what you're doing now? Fucking me one last time before you reject me? You've had your fun, is that it?" 

Y/N ROUNDTREE: I do admit that I... misjudged the situation. But when you've been with assholes in the past, sometimes you come to conclusions a bit too quickly. 

Eddie's face scrunches up into a mixture of shock, confusion and slight sadness.

"What?" He asks so loudly that it makes you feel embarrassed. "What in the actual fuck are you on about? Why would you even think that? Sweetheart, I was going to say I love you."  

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: I'll never forget the look on her face, swear to God. [laughs] 

"What?" You parrot back, just as loudly. It takes a beat or two for the words to sink in.  When they do, you start laughing like you've never heard anything funnier. 

Eddie simply looks at you like you've grown two heads. 

"Oh, Eds. Please don't lie to me like this." You cover your face with your hands.

Suddenly, your hands are being gently pulled away - he's staring at you so softly you think you might die. You might have actually died and this is your heaven. It certainly feels like it. 

He whispers your name and you whisper his back. 

"I love you." He says, cupping your cheeks,  and keeps repeating it as if trying to get it through your head. 

"Eddie…" you breathe against his lips. He pulls your bottom lip down with his thumb, pupils dilated like you're his new favorite drug. You might actually be. "Eddie, I lo-"

"SOUNDCHECK IS IN 30 MINUTES, ROUNDTREE, GET YOUR ASS OUT OF THE DAMN BED!"  

Fuck.

---

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: She might not have told me she loved me that day, but - [shows wedding ring] - I know. I know.

⁠♡

#daisy jones and the six #daisy jones & the six #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie roundtree fanfic #karen sirko #graham dunne #warren rojas #eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree smut #I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM YOUR HONOUR!!!!! #not an eddie apologist because he's done nothing wrong ever #josh whitehouse #djats fic #djats tv #eddie loving

[penmansparadise]

Tommy Shelby ~ Dust in the Wind

*I DON'T OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNER*

*I do not give anyone permission to repost my work in any way (translations included)*

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Discusses infant loss/stillborn, ANGST, mild language, possibly ooc Tommy

a/n: Alright, well, it has been quite some time since I've posted on this site. First, let me get a few things out. 1) This is the most self-indulgent piece I have ever written, so if you don't want to read it, please just keep on scrolling. 2) This does not mean that I am ready to start taking requests again or that I will be regularly writing again. As stated before, this is a very self-indulgent piece because I just experienced the loss of my daughter, who was born prematurely. It has completely wrecked me, and I have just finally decided to start writing again. I am trying to navigate my loss and thought maybe writing would help. It did, and although this piece is a little darker than I usually write, it was therapeutic, and I wanted to share it because I am proud of my work. I did write it as a reader insert, but if you all read it and think it would be better as an OC story, I'll change it. Anyway, this is the first time I've ever written for Tommy, so please forgive the potential out-of-character actions he has in this story. Also, it has been a bit since I watched season 3 so forgive any mistakes. I took some liberties with the story by adding different children for Tommy and Y/N and some of the things that happened in the show. Well, I hope you enjoy this story, and would really like to know what you all think.

§

Y/N was no stranger to death.  It was Small Heath, for goodness’ sake.  Death practically ran in the water.  Being deeply entrenched in the Shelby family since she was a young girl only made her acquaintance with death’s steely grip all that much closer.  She had been to more than enough funerals in her 29 years of living.  She was present at the cemetery when her father finally drank himself into his grave, she was there to mourn when consumption took her mother, and she showed up to support Ada when they buried Freddie.  Y/N was always there when any of the Peaky boys were killed in the line of action, and she even showed up for her elderly childhood neighbor’s funeral.  But this time, it was different.  She wasn’t gathered in the woods on the outskirts of Small Heath to mourn for someone else.  There wasn’t a stranger tucked away in the wagon standing in front of her.  The Shelbys weren’t gathered to bid farewell to a distant relative or friend.  The Lees weren’t generously providing this funeral for a price.  No, the whole Shelby and Lee families were there for her and Tommy this time.

            The heat from the flames washed over Y/N’s face, making her sweat a little, but she didn’t move.  She wanted to be as close as she could possibly be.  If she had it her way, she would have jumped into the wagon and let the flames swallow her whole, but Tommy’s hand tightly gripping hers anchored her to the ground.  It had only been a few days.  It couldn’t have been more than four, but with how time was moving, it felt like a lifetime had passed.  The flames roared on, and Tommy squeezed her hand a little tighter, causing Y/N’s throat to tighten.  She swallowed down the sadness trying to claw its way out of her.  Y/N wasn’t going to break down in front of all these people.  She didn’t want to cry at all, for that matter.  It felt like it had been an endless stream of tears, and Y/N was done.  If only her aching heart would catch the memo.  Y/N’s eyes traveled the length of the flames until they landed on the little plaque one of the Lee boys carved for the wagon.  “Lily Eleanora Shelby,” it read, and suddenly, the sadness returned with a vengeance.  Y/N shut her eyes, and the events that led to this day played in her head.  She was supposed to be happy.  She was supposed to be full of unadulterated joy.  She was supposed to be cradling her newborn baby girl.  But she wasn’t.  Instead, she held onto her husband’s hand like a lifeline as she watched her daughter’s wagon burn.  One day.  That’s all it took to completely destroy her.

            Even as she stood there, watching the flames devour her daughter’s wagon, she still recounted everything she did four days ago, trying to figure out what could have possibly led to this result.  Four days ago, she was a cheery 29-week pregnant woman.  A stay-at-home mom who, with the help of their maid Frances, cared for her and Tommy’s three-year-old son, Benjamin.  That day had started like any other.  Tommy was already out, and she could hear Frances chasing Ben around his room.  The little boy’s giggles echoed through the house, and she remembers smiling as she slid a hand over her round tummy.  Y/N couldn’t wait for Ben to be a big brother.  She got ready like any other day and eventually made her way to her son, who welcomed her presence with a hug and a kiss.  The little boy rubbed her tummy, planted a chaste kiss to her navel, and smiled at her. 

            “I just wanted to let my little brother or sister know that I love them too, Mommy,” he had said, causing Y/N’s heart to clench.  Even at three, he was a charmer, just like his father.  She knelt to be at eye level with her son and lifted her hand to cradle his face.

            “You’re going to be a wonderful big brother; do you know that?”

            “Of course I will be, Mommy.  I’ve been practicing sharing my toys with Frances and making sure I listen real good to you and daddy.”  He said, standing up straighter to exhibit his full height.  “Frances says I need to be a good example for the new baby, or else Santa won’t bring me any presents this year for Christmas.  How outrageous is that, Mommy!?”

            Y/N stifled a laugh before brushing Ben’s hair back and looking up to see Frances smirking from her spot by Ben’s block tower. 

“I’m sure Santa won’t forget about you this year, honey.”  She told her son.  The boy gave her a toothy grin before trotting off to continue playing with his blocks. 

Y/N returned to her feet and watched Ben for another minute before retreating to the new nursery.  It was already put together, and she often found herself hiding away in that room.  She glided her hand over the bassinet and let the soft fabric tickle her palm.  The walls were already decorated with paintings of horses, some of which came from Ben, who insisted that his younger sibling have them.  She sat on the rocking chair and gently rubbed her hands over her stomach, earning a little kick from her unborn child.  A soft laugh fell from her lips as she looked down at her growing bump.

“Sorry to disturb you, love.”  She whispered, her hands still rubbing slow circles.  “Mommy just wanted to let you know she loves you very much.  And so does your big brother, who is very excited to meet you.”

Another kick came.

“You’re excited to meet him, too?  I’ll have to let him know.”

“Daddy loves you too, just in case Mommy forgot to mention that.”  Tommy’s voice came from the doorway, causing Y/N to look up.  He gave her a full smile, the one he reserved only for her and their son, and it fell over her like a warm blanket.

“Mommy was just about to get there.  Had daddy not interrupted her,” she said.  Tommy hummed in response as he floated across the room to kneel before her.  He looked up at Y/N through his lashes and said, “Sure you were,” before removing her hands and planting a soft kiss where they had just lay.

“Daddy can’t wait to meet you,” he whispered against her stomach, his warm breath radiating throughout her body.  Tommy looked up at Y/N before standing and pressing his lips to hers.  When he pulled away, a smile matching his spread across her face.  She was beaming.  She had dreamt of being in this position for many years as a teenager, and now it was real.  Thomas Shelby was hovering over her very pregnant figure in their unborn second child’s nursery.  Their lively three-year-old son’s muffled laughter ricocheted off the hallway walls.  It was everything she ever wanted, and she was so happy.

“What’s that look for?”  Tommy asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Nothing,” she hummed, gaining a skeptical eyebrow raise from her husband.  “I just love you.  That’s all.”

Tommy nestled his face into the crook of her neck, peppering kisses along the exposed skin.  Then he pulled back, looked into her eye, and said, “I love you more than you know, Y/N.”

He gave her one more swift kiss before standing and sauntering out of the room with a smirk.  The rest of the day went by like any day usually went.  She sat around and read, played with Ben, ate lunch at 1100, put Ben down for a nap at 1230, and then went back to reading.  Tommy was in and out, balancing work from home and the office.  She could tell that day was extra tiring from how he sighed every time he left the house.  It was after Tommy left for the last time of the day that Y/N got the idea to wander down to the kitchen.  When she entered, the cooks were hard at work peeling and slicing vegetables.

“Good evening, Mrs. Shelby,” the head chef began, “is there anything we can do for you, ma’am?”

Y/N clasped her hands behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels like a guilty toddler.  “Um,” she said, “actually, yes, there is.”  She stepped into the kitchen and moved her hands to rest on her stomach.  “I was thinking that maybe tonight you and the rest of the staff could take the evening off and allow me to cook dinner.”

The head chef’s eyes widened at her statement.  Everyone else stilled for a brief moment, waiting for him to speak.  “Oh,” he stammered, “b-but, Mrs. Shelby, and please forgive me if I am overstepping, but shouldn’t you be resting instead of cooking?”  His eyes dipped down to her protruding abdomen before landing back on her face. 

“Resting?  I rest all day.  Really,” Y/N said, waving the chef’s comment off, “it would be nothing.  I actually miss being in the kitchen.  It’ll be nice.  Therapeutic.”  She couldn’t miss the wide-eyed stares from everyone in the room, but she chose to ignore them.  When they didn’t move to leave, she stepped forward, placed a gentle hand on the head chef’s back, and began leading him out of the kitchen. 

“Trust me,” she said, “I’ll be fine.  Thank you for your concern, though.”

Once she ushered the staff out, she began working on dinner.  It had been a long time since she cooked, but it came back to her like riding a bicycle.  She couldn’t escape the excitement that bubbled inside of her as she fell into a groove preparing dinner for her family again.  She boiled the potatoes the staff had peeled, sauteed the peppers and onions, and braised the beef that was in the refrigerator.  About an hour into cooking, a dull pain emanated from her lower back and into her hips.  The dull pain slowly morphed into a pressure that she just assumed was normal 29-week pregnancy symptoms.  It’s just the baby getting comfortable.  The baby is just moving around and pressing a little harder than usual on my cervix.  She ignored the feelings and finished cooking before asking the kitchen staff for help to bring the meal into the dining room.  Once the table was set, Frances went and fetched her boys, alerting them that not only had Y/N cooked dinner, but she had also served it.  She greeted the boys in the doorway of the dining room and gave each a kiss before they all sat to eat.  That pain returned in her lower back and hips, making it hard to get comfortable in her seat.  She let out a low groan of discomfort, and Tommy placed his hand over hers to gain her attention.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyebrows knitted together.  She swallowed another groan that threatened to come out and nodded with a strained smile.  Y/N could tell that her weak answer did nothing to reassure Tommy, but he didn’t press her. 

“How do you like the meal?”  She asked, doing her best to not sound strained against the constant pressure she felt pulsing between her legs.

Before Tommy could answer, Ben nodded with enthusiasm and stuffed a heaping scoop of mashed potatoes into his mouth.  “I love it, Mommy!  This is the best dinner I’ve ever had,” he said through his mouthful of food. 

Y/N smiled, but it must have looked more like a grimace because this time, Tommy stood up and moved to her side.  “Y/N,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders, “are you sure you’re okay?  Should I have Frances phone the doctor?” 

Y/N grabbed his hand and squeezed it as she looked up to her husband.  “I’m fine, darling.  I promise.  Let’s just finish dinner.”  She pulled his hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.  Then, using her head, she motioned for Tommy to sit again.  He stared at her for another moment, the line on his forehead deepening, before sighing and retaking his seat.  She kept her discomfort under wraps for the remainder of dinner because Tommy didn’t mention anything until after they had put Ben down for the night and were about to crawl into bed.  The pressure and pain had only grown in that short time, and she was beginning to get nervous.  She was sitting on the edge of their bed, eyes shut, and taking some deep breaths when Tommy’s hands landed on her thighs.  She could feel him kneeling between her legs, but she didn’t open her eyes.  She didn’t want to admit that her anxiety was consuming her or that the pain and pressure had turned into abdominal cramps.  It wasn’t until she suddenly felt the bed beneath her sopping wet that she looked at Tommy.  He looked down and saw the fluid dripping from her nightgown and their duvet before his gaze landed on her.  She could see his mouth moving, but his voice was drowned out by her rapidly beating heart.  Something is wrong.  She thought.  This shouldn’t be happening.  I’m too early.  Tommy pushed away the hair that had begun sticking to her sweaty forehead, and then ran out of the room.  His voice was distant, but she could have sworn he said something about calling Polly and Ada.  She wasn’t sure because all she could focus on was the sharp pain that was puncturing her abdomen and the immense pressure building between her legs.  Before she could comprehend what was happening, Tommy scooped her up and lay her on their bed.  What about the sheets?  I’m going to ruin the bed. 

She must have said those thoughts aloud because Tommy quickly said, “Don’t worry about the bed, love.  We’ll get another one if we have to.”  The pain was only getting worse, and she had to shut her eyes and bite her tongue to prevent a groan from escaping.  She didn’t know how much time had passed before Polly and Ada came rushing into the room, shoving Tommy into the hallway.  When it was just the three of them, Y/N finally let out a guttural moan.  She didn’t remember this much pain when she gave birth to Ben.  Something is wrong.  Something is not right.  Those words chanted in her head like a mantra.  Polly set her up on her bed while Ada used a wet towel to wipe away the sweat beading on her face.

“Just breathe, Y/N,” Polly chirped soothingly in her ear. “Ada and I are here.  We’re going to take care of you.”

Anxiety coursed through her veins and unfurled in her gut when the pressure between her legs began to increase.  She tried to cross her legs and prevent the inevitable from happening, but Polly and Ada wouldn’t let her.  Tears of pain and fear streamed down her cheeks.  She wanted to scream at them to stop and let her try to stop this urge to push.  But the pain and pressure were too much, and the only sound that came out of her mouth was a low groan. 

She could feel Polly’s hand between her legs, and the words “crowning” and “push” floated to her ears.  Ada took her hand, and Y/N tried with every fiber in her body to not push, but her body had other plans.  She held her breath and begged her body to stop forcing her baby out of her, but it was too late.  The pressure was building.  Climbing to a peak that felt like it would rip her in half until suddenly, she felt relief.  Her heavy breathing filled the room, and she waited impatiently for the tell-tale cries of her baby, but they never came.  She opened her eyes and looked at Polly and then at Ada.  They both just stared back at her, and Y/N knew something wasn’t right. 

“Y/N,” was all Polly whispered, and she knew.  The silence was deafening.  She lay there, completely exposed, bleeding, and sweaty, and waited, but her baby gave her nothing.  Her eyes shut and then, without any strength to stop it, let out a crushing wail.  The tears overflowed, and when she opened her eyes again, she watched the door burst open and Tommy storm in.  He moved over to where Polly held their baby and looked down at their motionless child.

“Why isn’t she crying?”  He asked. 

It was a girl.  I had a baby girl.  Even through her tears and sobs, she could see Tommy’s chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

“Why isn’t she fucking crying, Pol!?”  Tommy’s voice boomed through the room and mixed with her loud cries to create the saddest song.  She could see the distress in the slant of his shoulders and how he ran a hurried hand through his cropped hair.  He didn’t wait for anyone to answer his question before bounding across the room and landing on the floor next to her.  His hands found hers, and she could feel them shaking.  His lips pressed to Y/N’s forehead and cheeks, absorbing only some of the tears that continued to cascade down her face. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered, but the way his voice cracked in her ear told her he didn’t even believe those words.  “I love you, Y/N.”  She could hear that his words dripped with the same despair she felt.  “You know that, ey?  I love you, and it’s going to be okay.”

Tommy’s words echoed in her head as she watched the fire blaze around her daughter’s wagon.  She wanted to be convinced that his words were true, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe them.  When the funeral finished, they all returned to Arrow House, where the wake was being held.  Even being in a crowded room surrounded by family, Y/N felt alone.  Her whole body was like radio static – unfeeling.  Tommy’s hand was on her lower back the entire time, but she still felt like she was floating away.  Nothing could tether her to this reality anymore.

Several people approached her and Tommy, and with every person, a new empty comment emerged. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” which loosely translates to, “Boy, that sucks to be you.”

“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through,” which means, “I’m really glad I’m not dealing with that!”

And, “At least you still have Ben,” equates to, “You shouldn’t be upset when you still have one kid alive.”

With every consolation tossed at her feet like the change she used to find on the ground when she was a child, this unknown sensation began to build in her chest.  It was heavy and wild, like an untamed animal.  It was red and bared its teeth, ready to bite.  It was something Y/N had never felt before.  She was usually understanding, calm, and collected.  She wasn’t hot-headed or easily provoked.  But now, she was quickly discovering that what she was feeling was rage.  Hot and stormy, it ravaged her insides, and instead of beating it back into its cage, Y/N leaned into it, letting it hold her battered and broken soul up.

After the wake, Y/N let her sadness swallow her.  She hid in one of the guest rooms daily and even went as far as to avoid Tommy.  She couldn’t bring herself to look at him because every time their eyes met, two things happened.  1) she could see the grief he was carrying like cinder blocks chained to his neck, and 2) she could see the way he looked at her like she was a broken piece of artwork now.  She knew she was a shell of the woman she once was, but it hurt her even more to know that Tommy saw it so plainly in her, too.  He didn’t see her as the strong, independent woman he fell in love with.  No, now she was a ghost of her former self, and she couldn’t take his pity for having lost their daughter and herself. 

Although clearly grieving, Tommy didn’t seem nearly as phased by their loss as Y/N.  He was able to jump back into work, and now, nearly a week since the wake, he was back to being fully invested.  If Y/N were being honest, she envied Tommy for being able to distract himself.  She couldn’t do anything but hide from the memories that haunted their home and do her best to still be a good mother to Ben.  When a week finally passed since laying her daughter to rest, Y/N knew she had to do something.  She would talk to Polly and beg for some sort of work.  She didn’t care that Polly insisted that Y/N take some “time to heal.”  She needed a distraction.  Being in Arrow House felt more like a prison than a home.

Y/N got dressed and began to head for the door after handing Ben over to Frances.  But, as she approached Tommy’s office, she could hear him talking.  She peeked through the tiny crack to discover John and Arthur sitting at Tommy’s desk. 

“Ada’s handling the Communists.  She’s got someone on the inside who’s giving us information,” Tommy stated.  “And,” he shuffled papers around on his desk, “I’m…dealing with Father Hughes.”

“And what about the horny princess?” John asked, leaning forward and adjusting his jacket.  “You gonna figure out where her family keeps the jewels?”

Tommy waved him off.  “I already know.”  That single statement had both his brothers and Y/N leaning forward just slightly.  Tommy lay a large blueprint on his desk, causing the brothers to stand.

“They keep their entire collection in this strong room.  There’s no way to get in from above without a key,” Tommy stated, flattening the paper and looking up at his brothers. 

“So, what’s your plan, brother?”  Arthur asked like a good soldier.  Tommy straightened slightly, and Y/N could tell he was a little uncomfortable.  He pulled a cigarette from his case and slid it across his bottom lip before lighting it and taking a drag. 

“We’ve gotta tunnel in,” Tommy said without hesitation.  Those four words landed on the Shelby men like a grenade, and Y/N could almost feel the atmosphere shift at the statement.  None of them moved.  It was evident that the idea of tunneling hadn’t been a thought in any of their minds since the war.  Tommy cleared his throat. 

“I know,” he began, “but there’s no other way.  I’ve already got Johnny Dogs ready to help.  He’ll set up camp where we’ll start the tunnel.”

The air was thick, and again, neither of the brothers spoke.  She knew they didn’t like the plan, but they would comply because Tommy was giving the orders.  Y/N watched as John and Arthur fiddled with their suit jackets, their anxious energy hitting her like a baseball bat to the face.  It wasn’t until Arthur blew out a puff of air and ran his hand through his messy hair, exposing his apprehension, that Y/N knew what she would do.  Without even a second thought, Y/N opened the door to Tommy’s office, and all three men turned to face her.  She was only adding insult to injury as the silence in the room became even heavier.  Neither of her brothers-in-law had seen her since the wake, and the uneasy energy was almost palpable.  Tommy stepped toward her but didn’t get too close, which Y/N could see his brothers noticed.

“Y/N, is everything alright, love?”

Her eyes flitted between all three of the Shelby men for a moment before finally landing back on Tommy.  She knew she probably looked like a deer in headlights.  Her stare was frazzled, and she knew she looked a bit harried.  But she still squared her shoulders and stated with the most conviction she could muster, “Let me help.”

All three men’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, but only one spoke. 

“Excuse me?”  Tommy asked, incredulity lacing each word.  There was no going back now.  Y/N had to double down on her commitment.  So, she waved her hand toward the blueprints on Tommy’s desk. 

“With the tunnel.”

Tommy’s eyes turned a shade darker, and Y/N could see his jaw tick.  She only glanced at John and Arthur for a second, and they both looked like they might choke on the thickness of the air.  She felt like she might, too, but she held her ground.  She was not a fragile porcelain doll and could help her husband like she used to.  Tommy coughed, then turned to his brothers and, in a calm voice, asked, “Would you mind giving me a moment with my wife, boys?”

Neither of the brothers wasted a second before hustling out into the hallway.  Once the door shut behind them, Tommy’s steely gaze landed back on Y/N.  Before, she would have felt a little nervous under Tommy’s intense glare.  She had never inserted herself into his shoddy business in the past.  But now, she didn’t care.  She needed a distraction and a way to prove that she was still a force to be reckoned with even after her loss.  Y/N could see Tommy trying to contain his anger as his nostrils flared and his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.  His eyes shut for a brief moment as he took a deep inhale.

“Are you fucking insane, Y/N?”  He finally asked, his voice level.  Y/N’s mouth fell open, and she reared back just slightly.  But before she could say anything, Tommy continued.

“You’ve been avoiding me, your husband, for a week in our own home, and when you decide to finally speak to me, that is what you say?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Tommy.”

“No, Y/N!”  He shouted, causing her to startle.  “You can’t just move past this!”

That statement made Y/N see red.  In the week since Lily’s passing, Tommy did precisely that.  Y/N’s spine straightened, and her whole body became rigid.

“Why not!?” she shouted back, stomping toward Tommy.  “Is that not what you did?  Pretend like we didn’t lose our daughter?  You threw yourself into your work.  Why can’t I do the same thing?”  Her chest was heaving, and as badly as she didn’t want them to, she could feel tears pricking at her eyes.  She hated that she was a frustrated crier.  Her fists were in tight balls at her sides, and every muscle in her body was flexed.  She was ready for a fight.  She was prepared for Tommy to yell back at her.  In fact, she wanted him to yell at her.  She wanted Tommy to tell her how stupid her idea was and that she was out of her mind.  She mentally begged Tommy to scream at her for barging in on his meeting with his brothers and even thinking about tunneling.  Y/N wanted to feel the passion he usually had toward her before they lost their baby.  She needed him to reassure her that she was not a lost cause he was housing but his fierce wife.  But he didn’t yell.  The fire in his eyes dimmed, and his features softened.  The pity eyes were back, and she was struck by the sadness she was trying to escape.  She shut her eyes in a lame attempt to avoid looking at her husband and keep her tears at bay, but it was futile.  The tiny droplets fell down her cheeks, and when she opened her eyes again, Tommy was right in front of her.  He lifted his hands to cradle her face, and she hated how she melted into his touch.  It had been a week since she even looked at Tommy, let alone touched him.  She couldn’t lie, she missed him.  But it was easier to hide from the pain and suffering they both shared than deal with it head-on. 

Y/N let out a shaky breath and looked into her husband’s eyes. 

“Why can’t I, Tommy?” She asked, barely above a whisper.  “Let me help you.  Please.”

Tommy’s thumb stroked her cheeks, wiping away a stray tear.  He cataloged her features, and for the first time in a very long time, she wished she could see into Tommy’s thoughts.  She stared at him and hoped that everything she wanted to say was conveyed in her eyes.  I’m no longer the same woman I was a week ago.  I’m a failure as a woman and a mother.  I’m alone, letting my thoughts eat me alive.  I’m scared you won’t love this broken woman I have become.  Her eyes pleaded for Tommy to let her prove that she could still be the same person as before.  She needed to prove to him and herself that she wasn’t hopeless.  But when Tommy shut his eyes and let out a sigh, she knew his answer before he even said it. 

He looked at Y/N and said sotto voce, “You know I can’t, love.”

Y/N’s body went rigid, and that new familiar sensation began to bubble in her gut.  She could feel it rumbling and swirling, mixing with her fear and sadness, creating an uncontrollable fury.  It burned like venom, but she found herself welcoming the sting.  Her once soft features hardened, and Tommy noticed the change immediately.  Her stare was blank, and the joy that used to fill it had vanished.  Before losing her daughter, she never understood why the war had changed Tommy.  She supported him while his experiences ravaged him, but she never knew why he returned with a harder exterior than when he left.  But now, after suffering such a devastating loss, she understood.  There is no coming back from witnessing a tragedy. 

Tommy’s rough thumbs brushed against Y/N’s tear-stained cheeks and bent until his forehead rested on hers.  “Where did the woman I married three years ago disappear to?”  He said, his breath fanning over her face.  He pulled back, his distressed stare locking Y/N in place, and whispered, “I know she’s in there.”

The words stung like a slap to her already bruised ego.  She could feel the weight of that question in every bone of her body.  All her fears began raging a war inside her head, and she could feel her armor cracking.  She could feel the tears clogging her throat, burning as she swallowed them down.  Her lungs felt like they weren’t getting nearly enough oxygen, and she was only seconds away from either crying or breaking something.  With a swift step backward, Y/N separated herself from her husband.  She hated to admit that her body yearned for Tommy’s hands back on her, but she batted that thought away as quickly as it appeared.  Tommy slowly lowered his hands back to his sides, and she leveled him with a callous stare.

“That woman is gone, Tommy,” she spat.  “She burned to ash with her daughter a week ago.”  She could see the way her words landed on Tommy like bullets striking his chest.  Some of her felt bad, but the angry beast slowly becoming her new persona convinced her she did nothing wrong. 

Y/N waited for Tommy to say something, anything, back to her, and when he didn’t, she turned and reached for the door.  Confidence that felt different from what she was used to coursed through her body like electricity.  She was a little scared of who she was becoming, but those wild and fiery feelings of rage were the only things that brought her peace.  Before pulling the door open, she turned back toward Tommy and said, “If you won’t let me help you, Tommy, I’ll find someone else who will.  You forget, my roots run deep in this business, too.”

Tommy let out a dry laugh.  “You’re really threatening me, now, ey?”

Y/N’s grip tightened around the cold door handle, and, through gritted teeth, she growled, “It’s not a threat, Thomas.  It’s a promise.”  Without a second look, she flung the door open and stepped out. 

John and Arthur straightened at her abrupt appearance, and she just brushed past them, letting her feet carry her toward the front of their home.  She knew they heard her and Tommy’s conversation, but she didn’t care anymore.  This newfound boldness that her bereavement had granted her washed away any and all anxiety.   

“Hope you enjoyed the show, boys,” Y/N tossed over her shoulder toward John and Arthur.  “Next time, I’ll sell tickets and make talking to my husband more worthwhile rather than a waste of my time.”

She didn’t turn back around to see their reaction to her words.  Instead, she showed herself out and hopped into one of Tommy’s many vehicles.  She would find another way if he wouldn’t allow her to help.  The image of a tall Jewish man whom she briefly met a while back when Tommy first started expanding into London entered her mind.  She knew exactly who would be more than willing to give her a hand in her effort to help the Shelby family – Alfie Solomons.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagines #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby

[saulocept]

come pour yourself all over me

pairing: sebastian sallow/reader/ominis gaunt [poly]

rating: g

summary: Maybe you’ll learn your lesson this time and remember not to forget your gloves. Or maybe you won’t. Sometimes the alternative is just better.

notes: someone actually asked to see the poly fic, so it’s here! i didn’t use the prompt they sent, but i’m grateful anyway. i might actually work on it the next if i have the time and inspiration, so this is for u lovely anon - you know who u r! lots of liberties taken in here, so apologies in advance. 

also: no more love triangles! we each have two hands so we intend to use it! 

You’ve made a mistake, a grave one, though it’s something you’ll only realize much later, when everything’s far too late to take back. Okay, so maybe you’re exaggerating a little, but there’s so much going on already it’s hard to think straight. You’re already running late as it is, and you’re not even sure you’ll make it long enough to live through the consequences. Still, now that you think about it, it’s better this way, to be honest.

You huff out a quiet sigh, leaning back against your seat, wondering if you’ll still make it in time if you run back to your mother’s house and grab everything you’d left behind. You know it wouldn’t work, not really; you’re already halfway through your destination, closer to the end goal than the starting line. It would be a greater waste of time to go back; you know this, of course, but it doesn’t stop you from wishing, anyway, thinking about all the possibilities, the different kinds of outcomes that could still happen.

You aren’t going to be the only one who’s late; it’s a natural occurrence, after all, something you can’t really stop or control, but even the thought of it doesn’t seem as comforting as you’d initially thought. You don’t want to be late, period, not when you’ve spent all this time being a model student and bringing honor to your house.

In retrospect, though, that feels like a very small thing to be hung up on, especially when you’ve got a much bigger thing to worry about. Like having freezing hands, for example. Or maybe dying from the cold.

Still, there’s not much you can do about it now. The train ride doesn’t stop for anyone, and even if it could, where else would you go? Your mother’s house is too far away now, and you’ve not been here in this place long enough that you’d know every nook and cranny, every possible shortcut there is to discover.

You breathe out another sigh, turning your head to glance at the windows outside. Whatever. It’s not like anyone’s ever died from frozen hands. Or maybe someone had and you just haven’t heard of it yet. Maybe you’ll even be the first to find out. Not that it matters anymore.

The train glides into a slow stop, and you see now that you’ve finally arrived. Breathing out a sigh (and accepting your inevitable demise), you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat, then slowly make your way to the glass doors, exiting the vehicle.

It’s not nearly as crowded today, which makes everything a little easier. Small victories, you think, breathing out a sigh of relief as your feet finally meet the snow-packed ground. Not quite a victory, though, because now the hardest part of your journey begins.

It’s a struggle; it’s too cold out, and even through the layers of your clothes, you can still feel the chill. Still, you press on, putting one foot forward, knowing that you don’t have much of a choice in this. You’re not that far from the school now, and though normally, you wouldn’t have minded the walk, thinking of it as an opportunity to acquaint yourselves with your surroundings, now it just feels like torture.

At this point, you’re just trying to survive. Your teeth chatter, and the freezing wind beats at your back, but you ignore it, focusing instead on your surroundings, making up stories about the shops and buildings you occasionally pass by to distract yourself.

You pause for a second, rub your palms together, pressing them against your cheeks in an attempt to keep warm. It barely works; you’re still cold all over, nearly ten seconds away from freezing to death, and somehow, the school seems even farther than ever. Has it always been like this or is it only because you’re almost dying?

Your hands are growing number, colder, and you flex your fingers a little, just to see if they still work. They do. Good. Time to move on. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to shiver. You’re almost there, you tell yourself, just to cheer yourself up, have something to look forward to. You’re not sure if it’s true, but you have to believe it is.

The sound of your name stops you in your tracks, and for a second, you wonder if you’re just making it up, hallucinating. Are you having flashbacks now, reliving a life that’s long lost? You reach up, pinch your cheek. It still feels warm enough, more than your hands at least, so that must mean you’re still alive.

Ready to dismiss everything as a product of your imagination, you press on once more, curling your arms around yourself and hissing. There it is again – the sound of your name, coming from somewhere behind you. Frowning, you quickly turn your head, spotting a familiar pair of faces a few feet away from you.

You raise a hand, wave at them, unable to stop yourself from smiling. Quickly, you jog over to where they are, stopping as soon as you’re in front of them. “Ominis, Sebastian,” you say, shoving your hands back in your pockets as you give each of them a nod. Somehow, the sight of them feels comforting, and you can’t help but beam at them. “You’re both late, too.”

Ominis nudges Sebastian’s foot with his shoe. “Someone,” he begins, glaring at his companion for emphasis, “actually forgot to wake on time.”

Sebastian shrugs, then turns to face you, smiling playfully as he gives you a quick onceover. “Clearly I wasn’t the only one.”

“You forgot to set an alarm, too?”

He looks confused for a second, like he doesn’t quite understand, then quickly shakes his head. “No,” he replies. There’s a thoughtful pause that follows, like he’s trying to decide what he should tell you. “We got too caught up in our experiments and lost track of the time.”

You raise a curious brow, inviting him to elaborate, but he only shrugs at you, smiling again. It’s a different kind this time: vague and tiny, not quite reaching his eyes. Almost distant. You’ve been a part of his “experiments” before – which is really just an elaborate term to say that they’ve been learning more of the dark arts spells – so there’s no reason for him to keep this as a secret from you.

Still, you don’t press him for details; you figure that he’ll just tell you all about it when he’s ready, and all you have to do is to just give him time.

“Okay,” you say, reaching out to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. He relaxes beneath your touch, all the tension from his body disappearing all at once. “But you’ll tell me all about it later?”

“Of course.” The answer’s quick, given without hesitation. He looks up to meet your eyes, then gives you another smile. Warm, genuine – not likes the ones you’re used to. Even now, the sight of it is quick to turn you into a mush. Here, his voice has grown softer, fonder, like he’s telling you a secret – something that’s meant only for you. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”

Ominis nudges his foot once more, frowning. “I think you’re forgetting something.”

“Oh!” Sebastian clears his throat, then opens his mouth to try again. “Of course—” he pauses, casts a quick glance at his companion, then turns to look at you again: a twinkle in his eyes, a teasing smile on his lips: “We wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. Already, the day seems to be looking up for you. “Much better.”

There’s a moment of silence between the three of you, slightly awkward. There isn’t much to say after that, you know, nothing else except for the fact that all three of you are already even running later than ever, but before you could even get the words out, Sebastian’s cutting you off, staring at you with an obvious frown.

“You’re not wearing any gloves.” It’s a statement more than a question, and it’s making you nervous somehow, even if you can’t quite tell why. You cast a glance at Ominis, who now has his head turned to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern. You know he can’t see you, not really, but still; having both their attention already feels too much, too overwhelming.

“I forgot them,” you reply, shifting your weight from one foot to another as you try to affect a lighter tone. Now that you’re saying it out loud, it really doesn’t feel like a big deal. Okay, so you forgot your gloves at home and you don’t have the time to think about replacing them. Who cares? At this point, there’s a bigger thing to worry about, like not being extra late to your first class.

This time, it’s Ominis who speaks. “You didn’t think to come back for them?” he asks, still frowning. There’s no sharpness to his voice, only worry, genuine enough to make you feel guilty. “You could die from the cold, you know.”

“I didn’t want to be late,” you explain, like it would somehow justify your earlier stupidity. You know, it wouldn’t, not really, but it’s not like you can think up of a better excuse. The truth’s all you’ve got, and it sounds even more ridiculous than the lies you usually come up with. “I only realized it when I was halfway through the ride, so I just figured coming back wouldn’t be worth it.”

This time, it’s Sebastian’s turn to speak. “I suppose they wouldn’t have called you a model student for nothing,” he remarks, snorting in amusement. You give him a glare in response; Ominis elbows him in the side, chiding, though Sebastian only laughs, turns his focus back on you. “Alright. Let me see your hands.”

It’s an easy enough request to grant. You take your hands out of your pockets, then gingerly present it to him for inspection. Gently, he takes one hand into his, turns it this way and that, frowning as he looks up at you again. “You’re freezing. How long have you been walking in here again?”

“Er, a few minutes, I think?” you reply. He gives you a disbelieving look, and you bite your lower lip, hurrying to explain, “I figured I could just get warm as soon as I’m back at school, you know, so I was trying to hurry.”

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, then shakes his head and sighs, seemingly exasperated. “I can’t believe you.”

You frown at him. “It’s not like I—”

“Here,” Ominis steps forward in your direction, interrupting whatever argument’s brewing between you and his companion. “Let me see.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. Blindly, he reaches for your hands, takes both of them in his. He frowns, though he doesn’t say anything else. Gently, he rubs his hands against yours, then presses them against his cheek – the same thing you did before, you note, though he’s warmer. Softer.

“There,” he says after a moment.  He’s still not letting go of your hands, though his grip is a little looser now – something you can slip away from if you so much as you want to. But he’s warm, and he’s soft, gently tracing circles all over your skin. A gesture of comfort, you think. Or maybe some other form of reassurance – a reminder of his presence, warm and stalwart. You’re not sure what it means, but it doesn’t mean you want him to stop. He looks up at you then, smiling a little, “A little better now, I hope.”

“Thank you,” you reply, and your voice is thick with emotion. You’re almost certain he could hear the smile in your voice, how you’re beaming at him so widely you look ridiculous.

“Of course.” He nods; if he’s ever noticed that, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he squeezes your hand gently. You watch as his smile widens just a little, turns into something teasing. You’re still wondering what any of this means when he casts a glance at his companion, then turns to you as he adds an afterthought: “Aren’t you glad I’m here to save the day?”

Sebastian kicks him lightly in the ankle – more of a warning than a threat, and he rolls his eyes, laughing. “Alright,” he concedes, the smile still on his lips, prettier than ever, “We. Even though I’m doing most of the work.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes in response, though he marches over to you, reaching out to grab your other hand in his. His grip is much firmer, like he’s got no intention of letting you go soon. His touch is warm, though it’s a different kind; more like wildfire: harsh and burning, as opposed to Ominis’s campfire: gentle, cozy. Still, it’s not entirely unwelcome.

“You’re not doing most of the work,” he protests, imitating Ominis’s actions: tracing circles along your skin, vague patterns that seem more like magical symbols than anything. There’s a certain roughness to the way he does it, likely brought on by his frustration, and upon realizing what he’s doing, he pauses for a second, then goes slower, gentler. He looks up and meet your eyes, giving you a sheepish smile – a quiet apology, you’re sure of it. You nod, smile back at him in response, then squeeze his hand. All’s easily forgiven when you know he doesn’t mean to hurt you in the first place. He squeezes back, grateful, then turns his attention back on Ominis. “See?”

Ominis only laughs in response, shaking his head. “I hope you know that we’re even later now because of your antics, Sebastian.”

“You’re as much to blame in this as I am,” Sebastian grumbles, giving his companion a glare. Ominis, however, remains completely unfazed.

He shakes his head again, then turns to face you. “Come on,” he says, tugging at your wrist. He pulls you toward the direction of the school: one hand on his wand, the other still holding yours, tracing absent circles along the inside of your wrist. “Let’s go. Or we’re going to be really late.”

You nod, and the two of you follow after him, the both of them still holding your hands, with no intention of letting go. Huh. Somehow, you don’t seem to mind this at all. -

It’s quiet for the longest time, until Sebastian turns to you, saying your name. He looks thoughtful.

“Hey,” he says. You give him a curious look, waiting. His voice has gone oddly soft, conspiratorial, and you can’t help but feel a little suspicious. What is he up to this time? “I was just wondering—” here, he pauses, lets his words sink in – “Why didn’t you just use a spell to keep warm?”

You feel your cheeks heating up. On the other side of you, you hear a familiar snicker: quiet, subdued; it’s still obvious, anyway, and it only serves to make you even more embarrassed. You narrow your eyes, glare at him, ready to just melt into the ground and disappear. “Shut up.”

He only smirks at you in return.

#renwrites #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt x reader

[mint-yooxgi]

Spectre - Yandere!Wraith!Hyunjin

Yandere AU & Wraith AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Monologue

Pairing: Hyunjin X Implied Chubby!Reader

Words: 1,630

Warnings: Implied stalking and murder, talk of self-mutilation and dirty thoughts. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: This one is meant to be read as if he's talking directly to you. Think "Meant To Be Yours" from the musical Heathers, just less intense anger. Hehehe, I hope you like it! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

The Fifth of The Feral Drabbles

“Don’t be scared, Pretty. You know I would never hurt you.

Just let me in. Don’t you want me to take care of you?

Ignoring me won’t make me go away; you can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m attached to you now, whether you like it or not. Our bond can never be broken. You’re mine and I’m yours, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that you are never taken away from me again.

Pretty, why are you crying? You should be overjoyed! I’m not going to leave you ever again!

Oh, I get it! They’re tears of joy, aren’t they? You’re just as ecstatic as I am to know we’ll no longer be apart, and now with this newfound bond, I’ll be able to touch you! Isn’t that exciting?

I’ll be honest, Pretty, I’ve longed to know what your skin feels like beneath my fingertips. For too long my gentle brushes have simply passed right through you. I want to feel you pressed against me. I want to hold you in my arms both in the most innocent of ways, and also in the most intimate. I’ll finally be able to make you feel so good.

You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Now, I’ll no longer have to stand by and watch those others who have been ridiculously unworthy of you touch you. No one will ever lay their filthy hands on you again. No one but me is allowed to touch you.

I’d do anything you’d want. I’ll admit, when I still drew breath, I was quite a selfish lover, but I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’ve spent too long fantasizing about burying my face between those plush thighs of yours to not want to take my time with you, and indulge in every desire you’ve ever had. I’ve seen how frustrated the others always leave you, and I’ll make sure that you’re satisfied in every way I can.

All you have to do is let me in…

I already told you, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you alone. You mean too much to me.

Wait! I know! I’ll prove to you how well I know you! Then, you’ll have to let me in. Or maybe, I could try seducing you with my words? Would you like that, Pretty? For me to delve deeply into your soul and caress you with the romantic tenderness you have always craved to hear from your lovers? 

I know my visage is usually meant to bring death and terror, but there is nothing more that I long to do than breathe into you the vibrance of life. You’re so beautiful, and you deserve only the best. You deserve someone to laugh at all of your corny jokes with. You deserve someone who will cherish you like you are the most delicate flower in the garden of the universe, of which you are. You deserve to be loved how you’ve always wanted, and I am more than willing to give that to you.

In fact, do you remember that day you were out with that- that- thing.

Forgive me, I dare not speak that bastard’s name. I honestly don’t know what you saw in him. He was a good for nothing, ugly, vile, piece of-

Sorry, Pretty. I guess I just got too carried away…

You can’t blame me. That’s just what you do to me. Picturing you with anyone else… well, I’m not a wraith for nothing.

Anyways, as I was saying, do you remember that day? How certain things started happening when he dared to get close to you?

Yes, that was me. I couldn’t stand the sight of him touching what’s mine. He never deserved you. Besides, you didn’t know what he was like when you weren’t around.

I took the liberty to follow him. I just had to know why you preferred his company, and seriously Pretty, you should have heard the shit he would talk about with his friends behind your back. It’s a shame someone seemed to pick them off one by one…

Yes, Pretty, that was also my doing. I couldn’t have scum walking this earth who could so easily disrespect My Pretty, now could I? Sometimes being what I am has its perks.

No, don’t cry harder! I promise I’ll never hurt you! I love you!

I- I- I don’t want you to be scared of me.

I know! Would hurting me make you feel better?

I mean, you locking me out like this already hurts me, but I’ll gladly let you do whatever you want to me. Now that we’re bonded, I’m susceptible to more things than before, but the regular stuff still works, too. Iron, salt, fire: pick your poison, I’ll suffer through it all. Though, if you’d prefer something more substantial, like a blade, I’ll gladly bleed for you. After all, only you can touch me now.

…Is it that surprising that I would want to bleed for you? After I already told you that I would do absolutely anything and everything for you? 

Carve your fucking name into my skin. I don’t care. In fact, I’ll gladly do it for you.

Just please, won’t you let me in? I want to see your pretty face again; it’s been too long since I’ve last gazed upon you.

I don’t care if I appeared to you only an hour ago! It’s been too long!

You know, this isn’t how I pictured this going…

I won’t lie to you pretty, I had hoped we would be in the midst of making love right now.

It’s you who makes me so crazy, you know. You seriously have no idea what you do to me…

Long have I since desired to worship you. I mean, I already worship the very ground you walk on, but you’ve never seemed to notice. I honestly hated knowing how you thought those roses I always left for you every week were from that bastard. 

Selfishly, I wanted to show up with those red flowers, litter your bed in their petals, and then make love to you like you’ve never been loved before. Until you were shaking from a single touch. Until you were dripping down my face from the amount of times I would make you come from my tongue alone. Until the only thing your hoarse voice could utter, the only thing that you could think of, would be my name.

Don’t you want me, too? I’ve been with you this whole time, but now that you can actually see me, you don’t-

It’s my appearance, isn’t it? I’m not desirable to you.

It’s okay, Pretty. I can handle the truth. You don’t find me attractive, do you? That’s why you’re so scared right now. You’re terrified of how I might react.

I can change, you know. I’ll change for you. Whatever you want from me, know that it’s yours. I’ll figure everything out, just as long as I get to have you in the end. You already own all of me, and you know I’m willing to give my everything for you.

I am a little shocked, though. I have always been told that I’m quite handsome, especially when I was alive, but I guess I don’t suit everyone’s tastes. Unfortunate that I only care about yours, but you don’t seem to desire my looks.

You’ve gone awfully silent all of a sudden. That means I’m right, doesn’t it? You aren’t attracted to me like I thought you would be.

Your breathing just picked up when you said that. Are you, perchance, lying?

Oh, Pretty, it’s okay. I’m so in tune with your body and your every reaction, I can tell when you’re being dishonest with yourself. I’m just happy to know that my theory is wrong. You do find me attractive, don’t you?

I’m all yours, Pretty. You know that? Everything that I am, belongs to you. I just want to take my time loving you, and getting to cherish you like you’ve always wanted. Like you’ve always deserved.

So, please, won’t you open the door?

What do you mean, ‘no’?

I’m getting tired of these games, Pretty. I’ve tried playing nice, but the way you’re hiding from me is getting on my every last nerve. I’ve already waited years for this moment, and now that it’s here, you’re pushing me away? I don’t think so.

I’ll give you five seconds, and if you don’t open this fucking door before the time is up, I will smash through it without a second thought. Even you can’t keep me away forever. I won’t let you.

One.

Two.

You’re really testing my patience, Pretty. You know that, right?

Three.

Four.

Five.

That’s it, I warned you. I’m coming in whether you like it or not.

Wait, why can’t I get through your door? Pretty, did you do something?

Answer me, Pretty.

Pretty…

I know you’re scared, Pretty, but just let me in. Open the door, and let me in. I’m starting to get really angry, and I would hate to have to do something that I might come to regret. You can’t hide from me forever.

I’m fucking done waiting for you. You’re mine, whether you like it or not. I don’t care what it takes, I’m going to bust this fucking door down and find you. I’ll drag you out of that room if I have to; you’re not going anywhere without me. You can’t. You better be prepared for that, Pretty.

After all, this salt line will only protect you for so long, and once I’m through… Once I’m through, I’ll make you feel my love. It’s the only thing my spirit still lives on to do.”

#yandere hyunjin #yandere stray kids #yandere kpop #stray kids drabble #hyunjin scenario #hyunjin smut #stray kids scenario #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz scenarios #skz x reader #wraith au #kpop scenario #kpop smut #chubby reader

[gurugirl]

hear me out, i have an idea for a fic but i always think i will be judged for it but i think you wont

basically reaaaaaaaally rich harry is married and he loves his wife but they are extremely incompatible sexually because he has huge sex drive, loves trying new things, is very dom looooooves doing a girl's ass and marking her up and choking, using ropes and all that shit. and his wife very meh with ir comes to sex

so she suggests he finds someone to do all these sexual stuff he needs and he is hesitand at first because he loves her but he ends up agreeing, so maybe she suggests some assistant from her company or he finds her on a datting app because his wife doesnt want to know who she is so he ends up finding cute uni student yn who becomes his suggar baby and checks all his boxes with being subby, having the same kinks and is basically horny 24/7

at first they set for meeting at a hotels but after a while gets tired of it after bumping on someone he knows and having to make up an excuse on why he was there, and he hates her flatmates and how they stare after he goes there for a fuck. so he ends up moving her to this london penthouse or house he owns because he is an achtecht or owns a luxury real estate firm. and the condition and that she always has to wear only lingerie or be naked around the house so he can come get what he wants and them leave for his wife (even when she is asleep they have an aggrement that he can start fucking her without waking her up)

but anyways he is not completely emmotionless and he does have a soft spot or her but he loves his wife

but at some point they end up getting divorce because she doesnt want kids or found someone else or something so its finally yns turn

okay anon who requested this.... i've been writing and this one shot is being worked on very seriously. i've gotten about 5k words down and it's taking shape nicely. I don't know if I'll be able to get it out next week but expect something soon. I've taken some liberties and made it a little different than your exact request but the most important elements are still there and I have a feeling you'll like it.

I know this request has been sitting for quite a long time but I'm on it now (slowly getting through all of my requests as i have A LOT of them).

Just wanted you to know I'm working on it and to expect something coming soon. LINK TO PART 1

#ask #request #coming soon

[carlyraejepsans]

Oh! What are your headcanons for frisk? I know we don't know much about them in canon so it's hard to extrapolate but I'm still curious

oh sure! mind, these are all personal headcanon, as there isn't all that much canon info i can go off of, HAHAHA

obviously I don't think frisk had a happy home life, just like chara. but while chara's abuse was more active, i think frisk's abuse came from neglect rather than outright hostility or violence from the people around them. maybe they were a single, unwanted child. maybe they were among the last of many, many siblings. too many to be notable... or missed. so they left.

by the time the game starts, they've already been living on the streets (of the city that became of the village of the humans that chara was born in) for a few years. they get by with their wits. i think they're VERY clever, unnaturally so for their age, and judging from their ability to talk/charm themself into and out of anything in the game, they probably refined that skill for survival (you make yourself liked enough, people are quicker to show you kindness. leftover food, a dry shop window to sleep in at night, some used clothes).

undertale itself raises the question of why frisk climbed Mt Ebott. i like the idea that it was a force outside of themself. like a sudden, SOUL deep tension that would only release if they followed the call. an intrinsic certainty that, somewhere, somehow, someone really needed them. maybe it was fate. maybe it wasn't. maybe they were tied to chara's spirit long before they ever fell (by blood, as a long descendant? by magic? both?) and they were reacting to flowey calling out for them. point is, they felt the instinct, and they followed it.

because here's the thing: in my take on this, frisk desperately wants to be needed. that's what ties them so closely to chara. going with the more literal interpretation of them as a ghost, chara still has unfinished business in the underground. they haunt their former home, much like flowey did, and they NEED to see more of it, they just can't let it go. and they can't do it without frisk. they need them. so frisk goes along, because FINALLY, they're needed. that's why they reset at the end and try again, that's why they keep returning to the underground. but of course, chara isn't the only undertale character who needs frisk. the entirety of monsterkind does, and the entirety of monsterkind gets better thanks to their intervention. flowey, too. asriel, too. that's what resolves chara's unfinished business and allows them to finally let go (i mean... as long as YOU do, too, of course :])

and this is precisely the reason I'm not a fan of making frisk traumatized by their experiences in the underground. having leftover baggage from before they came? love that. but the whole point of their journey, to me, is that they were the single most powerful being in the entire story. the amount of liberties they could take, with their actions, with their words, with their own person, due to the sheer scale of power they had on everything else.. sure there was violence, and fear, and adventures and misadventures and betrayals, but when you can literally control time, i think that was almost euphoric for them.

after the life they used to lead, i like to think frisk saw their experiences in the underground as positive. no more powerlessness. no more loneliness. finally in (shared) control of their life. was it maladaptive as hell? yeah! but it was better than nothing! and if you've been following me for more than a month, you'll know by now that i am obsessed with the idea of a post pacifist, reset-heavy frisk freaking out AFTER their happy ever after, when chara doesn't follow them out of mt ebott and takes the SAVE power along with them (which is... kinda what happens in the game). being back to square one would mess them Up. fortunately, they now have a whole support system of family and friends who love them to make them feel needed and safe. it's gonna take some work, but man. it's gonna be worth it.

#i love you frisk you are my favourite narrative device #undertale #frisk #answered asks #chara

[callsign-rogueone]

one for the books - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Scribe!Reader part of my Valentine’s Day Celly (better late than never?) words: 1.7k (got a little carried away here, oops) 🏷: IRON FLAME SPOILERS. scribe reader who is referred to as a woman one time, and has painted nails, but no pronouns used. just some meet-cute fluff with reader and Gare. love at first sight. it's weird writing him with anyone other than Angel, but I hope y'all will still like it anyway 🥺

Garrick wanders through the rows of bookshelves in search of someone who actually knows what they’re doing, so he won’t have to spend the entire day looking at the titles of every book in this massive library.

It doesn’t take long for him to find the only scribe who’d come with them to Aretia: Violet’s friend, Jesinia, who had helped them sneak into the Archives to get the journals. Who happens to be Deaf. He hadn’t thought about that part. 

He waves a hello, racking his brain for the letters of the alphabet and spelling out his request at a snail’s pace, hoping he’s moving his hands correctly. I… n-e-e-d…

Jesinia takes pity on him, holding up a hand to stop him and darting back into the maze of shelves, leaving him standing there thoroughly embarrassed -- he really needs to add “study sign” to his list of things to do after this whole wyvern thing is resolved and Tyrrendor is freed again. Whenever that will be.

He’s expecting her to come back with a pen and paper, so he can write it down, but she emerges thirty seconds later with another scribe in tow, one he’s never met before -- the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

Jesinia gestures to you with a soft smile, and leaves.

He blinks once, twice, taking you in.

You’ve taken some creative liberties with the uniform, wearing the beige scribes’ robes open with a plain shirt and pants underneath, the hood down to expose your face and hair, a pair of glasses perched atop your head and a clipboard in hand, your nails long and painted a pale pink -- a few of them have started to chip, but it’s endearing; comforting to find a tiny flaw in an otherwise perfect presence.

You’re equally entranced. The fortress is crawling with riders -- you’re one of maybe five students here who are anything else --  but this one in particular makes your heart race. 

It’s as if the gods pulled a knight from the pages of one of your fantasy novels and dropped him in front of you in this library; broad and tall, muscled and tattooed, two longswords strapped across his back… he’d be intimidating without the nervous smile on his face and the blush dusting his cheeks, the afternoon light coming through the windows and making him glow.

“How can I help you, Lieutenant?” you ask after a moment, hoping you don’t sound as flustered as you feel.

The scar running down the side of his face moves as he speaks -- more quietly than you’d been expecting. “Riorson sent me; he wants everything you have about wards.”

You blow out a nervous breath. “Okay, uh… I’m still not totally sure how this library is organized, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“We can look together, then,” he offers, giving you a knee-weakening smile.

You don’t know if you can spend the rest of your afternoon with this man and not make a complete fool of yourself, but you’ll just have to try your best. “Sounds like a plan.”

You realize you don’t know each other’s names, having been too busy staring at each other to make proper introductions.

“Garrick,” he offers, extending a hand to shake.

You’re really supposed to refer to him as Lieutenant, since he’s graduated and you haven’t, but you still repeat the word softly, trying it out. “Nice to meet you, Garrick.”

He already owes Xaden Riorson his life, but hearing you say his name, feeling the softness of your hand against his… he decides he’ll be in the boy’s debt well into the afterlife, too.

“I’ll start on one end, you on the other, and meet in the middle?” you ask. “Anything with wards, magic, or protection in the title would be a good start.”

He hums in acknowledgement, heading down to the end of the row.

“I haven’t been in here in ages,” he admits, scanning the rows of shelves for anything that could be useful. “I lived most of my life here before the revolution,” he adds quickly, explaining.

Small talk is good. You can do small talk.

“It must have been interesting growing up in a fortress like this,” you respond, too shy to ask him for his likely incredibly-tragic life story outright, and you’re technically on the job right now, so you should be focusing on the task at hand.

He picks another volume off the top shelf, keeping his feet flat on the ground and barely having to stretch for it. “It was. There were a few dozen of us kids around, always underfoot and meddling. We used to play hide and seek in here, and see how long we could stay before the scribes found us and kicked us out.”

You laugh, a sound he doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing. You may be a librarian, but you’re the polar opposite of the typical strict and stiff scribes he’s used to -- young and lovely and not afraid to laugh and talk among the books, to let them hear your voice and know that they’re appreciated. They’re lucky to have someone like you watching over them.

Since you’re grasping at straws here, you decide to cast a broad net and pull down anything that could be even a little bit helpful -- and you’re finding more than you’d thought, likely because the Tyrrish basically invented wards. 

You really should have brought a cart, but it’s no issue for him -- he’s holding at least ten thick volumes at once with complete ease.

“I got it,” he offers, shifting the tall stack he’s amassed into one arm and taking yours with the other. Seeing a man like him with an armful of books is hotter than it should be. Everything about him is hotter than it should be.

He sets the stack on the nearest table, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of a chair before he sits down.

Your eyes linger on the relic winding around his arm like a plume of black smoke, contrasting against the pale muscle. You know it was intended as way to mark them as the descendants of those who had committed treason, to set them apart from their peers and to force them to enroll in the rider’s quadrant, but he looks like he didn’t have too much trouble in his days at Basgiath, if the two dozen patches on his flight jacket are any metric.

It suits him. He’d look incomplete without the relic and the thick scar on the side of his face. It would be rude to ask how he got it, but the curiosity still tugs at you. You want to know everything about him.

You realize you’re staring, and pull your eyes away as quickly as you can manage, worried that he’ll think you’re judging him -- though you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t on his side.

You each take a book off the top and crack it open, scanning for anything that could help. “Did he say anything more specific? Or why he needs this?”

“Nope. But he’s always been vague and mysterious, even when we were kids, before he had all those shadows following him around.”

“I’ve only seen him twice, but that sounds accurate.”

It’s his turn to laugh. “He may be all cold and broody all the time, but he’s a good guy. I’ve always considered him my best friend.”

You’re thinking of the best way to keep him talking when Jesinia knocks on the side of a nearby shelf to get your attention. Done with my transcribing. What’s next?

Thank you. You can leave for the day. 

Jesinia gives you a sly smile. You don’t want help? Or do you just want to be alone with him because you think he’s handsome?

She’d told you that Garrick’s sign was rusty, that he could only fingerspell, but you still turn away from him as you respond, praying he didn’t understand what she just said. 

Two can play at this game. I’ve been meaning to ask, how is that redhead boy who keeps coming by to talk to you? I’m sure he’d like to see you for another sign lesson tonight.

She reddens, realizing you know about her crush on the rider, and bails out of the conversation while she still can. Goodnight!

There’s that lovely laugh again as you turn back to him, seeing him watching you -- now you really hope he didn’t understand. He quickly returns his gaze to the book in front of him, which definitely isn’t modern Navarrian or any of the other languages you know. It must be Tyrrish.

“You can read this?” you ask with rapt curiosity, leaning forward to take a better look at it.

“About every fifth word or so,” he answers. “There aren’t many fluent speakers left, since it was outlawed decades ago and kids aren’t taught it in school. I don’t see the symbol for “wards” anywhere, but that might be too obvious.”

“No language should ever be outlawed,” you respond, perhaps a little too hotly. “There must be so much valuable information that was lost in translation or destroyed entirely after the wars. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to become a scribe, to try to save as much as I could. But so many of the texts in the Archives have been translated over and over, and I can’t help but wonder if some things were left out on purpose.”

Another smile. “Well-said. Into the “maybe” pile, then?”

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment as you realize how long you’d been talking. “That’s the only pile we have,” you sigh, stretching. 

He’d shown up around four, and it’s nearing seven now, your body automatically responding to the hour and telling you to pack things up, but that’s one of the nicest things about the library here -- unlike the Archives at Basgiath, you can work here through the night, and not be booted out at seven on the dot.

You’d asked the Lieutenant Colonel about it when he’d come by one day, and he’d told you there wasn’t any sort of magical time-sealing-lock on the library, just a normal wooden door charmed to be fireproof -- so you’d stayed in one of the armchairs until midnight reading, just because you could.

“Well,” he offers, “I know it’s a grave sin to eat in the library, so how about we take a break, get ourselves some dinner, and pick this back up after?”

Smooth. Very smooth.

“I’d like that,” you answer, your heart fluttering. “I’d like that a lot.”

#garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #reader insert #imagine #mine #valentine's day celly

[lilacwisps]

How about Sebastian, Garreth, and Ominis reacting to MC asking them to pretend to be her boyfriend? Maybe someone else's hitting on MC and she wants to get away?

You are a nonnie after my own heart, I love fake dating as a trope 💜

Sebastian: 

Sebastian's surprised and a little amused when MC asks him to pretend to be her boyfriend to ward off the annoying advances of an older student. 

He will not miss this opportunity to tease MC, "Is that really the best plan you could have devised? Can't you just teach him a lesson with some ancient magic?"

"If you don't want to help, you can just say that," MC scoffs, "I could always ask someone else."

It's almost embarrassing how quickly Sebastian folds upon hearing that - while he might think MC's plan a little silly, the last thing he wants is for someone else to have their hands all over MC. 

"Hold on, I was just trying to ensure you've actually thought through your plan. I will help you - after all, it's always nice to have you in my debt."

MC's plan turns out to be relatively straightforward. The older student often hangs out in the Transfiguration Courtyard by the fountain - all they need to do is pretend to have a date in the courtyard and ensure he sees them.

Playing pretend has always been Sebastian's forte - lying comes as easy as breathing to him, and he likes MC - so he knows he'll have no problems convincing MC's admirer that she's "taken". 

Sebastian will fully commit to the ruse - his arm's around MC's waist, pulling her close before they ever reach the courtyard. After all, they need to make this seem real, don't they?

Once in the Transfigurations Courtyard, he instantly spots the older student that's been bothering MC. Perfect. Sebastian leads MC to the marble pavilion by the pond, which just happens to be right in front of MC's admirer. 

Once they stand by the marble balustrade overlooking the water, Sebastian pulls MC closer. 

"Don't be a stranger - we need him to believe we're actually in love, don't we?"

Sebastian will take a few liberties with MC - run his hand up MC's back, tuck her hair behind her ears, and pull her even closer until she's pressed flush against him. 

He's enjoying himself more than he should - but then again, the feeling of MC against him makes it hard to focus. 

When Sebastian notices out of the corner of his eye that MC's admirer is staring at them and all but fuming, he cannot contain a smug smile. That's right, MC isn't for you. Will take MC's hand and press a light kiss to her knuckles, reveling in the way it angers MC's admirer. 

His hand lingers on MC's waist - the feeling of her pressed against his side is almost dizzying. When their gazes meet, Sebastian feels his heart race - and he cannot stop himself.

"Play along now," he murmurs, leaning in, "This should do the trick."

With that, he kisses MC on the corner of her mouth. The contact feels as though a jolt of electricity runs through his very core. 

The kiss ruins him - ruins him in a way Sebastian didn't even know was possible. Before he ever pulls away, he knows one isn't enough - will never be enough. He knows he'll be lying awake at night yearning - aching - to kiss MC again and again and again. 

When he pulls away, MC's looking at him wide-eyed, "What was that?"

Desperately trying to calm his racing heart, Sebastian nods towards MC's admirer, who's hastily leaving the courtyard, "You wanted him to believe that we were on a real date - from where he was sitting, it looked like we've actually kissed. Don't look at me like that - you had nothing to worry about. I wasn't actually going to kiss you. In case this was, you know, your first."

"It's adorable that you'd think that," MC chuckles, and a burning, all too familiar feeling of jealousy unspools in Sebastian's chest, "But I appreciate your concern for my virtue."

His gaze drops to her lips. It's the strangest feeling - just half an hour ago, he'd thought she was just a dear friend - and now he desperately wants to kiss her till she's flushed and breathless. 

"Still, I owe you one for helping me deal with this situation - so, how can I repay you?" she continues. 

A thousand thoughts rush through Sebstain's mind - and he'll sooner take each and every one of them to the grave than breathe a word to her. "Don't worry about it for now," he says finally, "I'll come to collect in due time."

"Don't keep me waiting too long."

Ominis: 

When MC approaches Ominis, asking him to pretend to be her boyfriend to get an older student that's bothering her to leave her alone, Ominis's quite perplexed by the request. 

"Are you sure speaking to him directly won't yield better results than this ruse?" Ominis asks. 

"You don't think I've tried," MC sighs, frustrated, "He's not the sort to take "no" for an answer."

The thought angers Ominis to his very core. If MC did not want to be with her self-appointed admirer, he should respect that decision. Even though Ominis feels a little awkward about MC's request - partly due to his lack of romantic experience - he instantly agrees to help her. He will not stand for someone harassing MC like that. 

It helps that MC's plan is straightforward enough. Apparently, her admirer likes to spend Friday evenings at the Three Broomsticks, and all MC asks Ominis to do is to head there with her and pretend to be on a date. 

Though he lacks dating experience, deep inside, Ominins is quite the romantic, and he's read his fair share of novels, so he has some idea of what he needs to do. The most crucial part, it seems, is not to take any advice from Sebastian - sometimes, Ominis cannot help but wonder how his friend gets away with the things he does without being slapped.

"You look very handsome," MC tells him when they meet on Friday afternoon, and, for some reason, that makes Ominis's heart flutter. He put a little more effort than he usually does into his appearance that morning - after all, he and MC are going on a date. Even if it is a pretend one. 

Ominis's heart races when he notices that MC is wearing his favorite perfume - not that he'd ever told her that it was his favorite, of course, but secretly, he could not get enough of it. 

They walk to Hogsmeade arm in arm - if they run into the older student who's been bothering MC outside of the Three Broomsticks, they still need to make their date look believable. 

"He's in there," MC whispers when they reach the bar. 

During their date, Ominis is a perfect gentleman - he opens the door for MC, helps her out of her coat, and pulls out the chair so she can sit down. It's a strange feeling when Ominis suddenly realizes that not only does he not mind - he actually enjoys doing all that for MC. 

Despite Ominis's original reservations, being out on a "date" with MC feels oddly natural - they are talking, and they are laughing, and he feels so at ease around her, the way he rarely does around others. 

His heart races in his chest when he feels his hand brush against MC's. Driven by a sudden urge, he takes her hand in his. Realizing what he's done, he half-expects MC to pull her hand away - yet, somehow, that is not what happens. 

"Good thinking," she says instead, interlacing their fingers, and Ominis can feel the heat rise in his cheeks. With every passing moment, it's becoming more and more challenging to focus on their little ruse. Instead, he tries focusing on his butterbeer and the sweet treats that they've gotten.

"Ugh, they should warm that the jam in this pastry is so liquidy," MC says, clearly annoyed, "Now I've got it all over my face - and we are out of napkins."

Blood rushes in his ears - he knows that he should go offer to get napkins for MC, but words leave his mouth before he can even think, "Let me help."

"Alright," MC responds, surprising him. 

Ominis doesn't remember reaching out - only the moment his hand finds her face. Her skin is soft and warm under his touch, and when he sweeps his thumb across her slightly parted lips, it's almost dizzying - he's never felt anything like that before. His heart flutters against his ribs like a caged bird, and the only thing Ominis wants is for this moment to last. 

"That should do it," MC murmurs, then adds, "Looks like he's leaving - great job!"

Ominis nods distantly - still too preoccupied with the feeling of her skin against his hand - when he suddenly realizes that his touch has lingered too long. Before he can pull his hand away from her cheek, suddenly, MC's hand is upon his.

"Thank you," she adds, leaning into his touch in a way that makes Ominis wonder if he'd imagined it. 

Garreth: 

 When MC asks Garreth to pretend to be her boyfriend to avoid the pesky advances of a certain older student, Garreth is equal parts concerned and amused. 

"I could talk to him if you'd like," Garreth offers, "I'll make sure he understands you are not interested."

"He won't listen to you either," MC sighs, "I know too many like him - the only thing that'll get him to back off is if he thinks I'm "spoken for"."

Garreth instantly agrees to help her - he hates the thought of someone continuing to pursue MC when she'd already indicated that she's not interested. Besides, Garreth enjoys a little mischief and chaos, and a fake relationship sounds rather entertaining. 

After all, how hard can it possibly be? He and MC are great friends who enjoy each other's company a lot - acting a little more affectionate than usual should be no problem at all. 

Still, Garreth's naturally a super affectionate person, especially in a relationship, so he makes sure to ask MC how much of a show they need to put on for this pretend relationship. 

"Just act like you normally would on a date," MC tells him. That Garreth can definitely do. 

MC's plan is relatively simple - they just need to pretend to be on a date during the next Quidditch game, which her annoying admirer will most certainly attend, and to ensure that he sees them together. 

As they walk to the stadium early on Saturday morning, Garreth holds MC's hand in his, interlacing their fingers. That way, even if they happen upon MC's admirer outside the stadium, it would look like they are actually on a date. MC's hand is soft and small in his, and Garreth would be lying if he said his heart did not beat just a little faster when she gently squeezed his palm and smiled. 

Once in the stands, they notice the student that's been harassing MC almost instantly - and settle a few rows in front of him, just to make sure he can see them well. 

As they sit down, Garreth drapes his arm around MC's shoulders - they are on a date, after all, it has to look real. 

 He doesn't expect MC to shift closer, pressing herself against his side and putting her head on his shoulder. She feels so delightfully soft and warm against him, and suddenly, Garreth finds himself completely distracted both from the Quidditch game and their little ruse. 

It almost catches him off guard just how much he enjoys being close to her. Garreth cannot help but steal glances at MC, mesmerized by her happy smile, the excited glimmer in her eyes, and her bright laughter.

Whoever gets to call her his one day will be a very lucky person.

Logically, he knows, of course, that they are pretending, yet somehow, it feels so right. 

The Quidditch match gets heated - everyone in the stands is on their feet as two Seekers rush desperately to catch the Golden Snitch. The effort is in vain - the ball escapes them both, soaring high into the sky. 

Garreth notices MC's house scarf loosened, one end hanging off her shoulder. "Here, let me help," he says. 

"Thank you," MC turns to him and stills as he fixes her scarf.

"All good now," Garreth murmurs, his hands smoothing the fabric.

Suddenly, he's acutely aware of just how close they are standing. MC's flushed and smiling, her face so full of happiness and life, and Garreth's breath hitches in his throat. His gaze drops, unbidden, to her half-parted lips, then darts back to her eyes. She's looking at him as though they are alone in the stands, as though nothing else matters, and he cannot resist - as if drawn by some unknown force, Garreth leans in. 

He comes to his senses just before his lips find hers, half-mortified that he'd given in to a sudden urge. MC's looking at him wide-eyed and dazed. He cannot do what he'd intended - and it would be far too odd for him to recoil now, so instead, Garreth shifts forward, pressing a featherlight kiss to the top of MC's head before resting his forehead against hers. 

"Oh," MC murmurs, and there's something in her tone that sounds almost like disappointment, but Garreth tells himself he must be imagining that.

His heart flutters in his chest when suddenly, he feels MC's hands around his middle as she shifts, hiding her face in his shoulder. 

"Thank you," she says softly, "I think he bought it."

"Of course," Garreth mumbles, his heart dropping as he wraps his arms around her, "Always happy to help."

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt #ominis x mc #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x mc

[specialagentlokitty]

Carol Danvers x reader - say love

A/N: I’ve never wrote for Carol before it’s probably bad but I just wanted to write for her 😂

Standing on the Statue of Liberty, you looked at the light of New York from across the water, a small smile on your face.

“Been a while since you smiled.”

Tilting your head back, you went back to staring at the city.

“Didn’t think you’d be able to get up here Fury.”

“I have my ways you know this (Y/N).”

You hummed a little bit, slowly nodding your head.

“We need you.”

“I told you after everything that’s happened I’m not coming back.”

“Stop being childish.”

You turned around, stuffing your hands into your pockets as you glared at him a little.

“I get it, you two go history. We all got history but that don’t mean you can ignore me when I call for you.”

“You’re not my boss fury, I helped you as a one time thing, that’s it.”

He sighed, leaning back against the stone as he looked at you.

“We’re playing this game? You don’t wanna play this game with me.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“No way, you don’t get a free pass out this shit anymore. I don’t give a crap whether you two get alone, Earth is in danger and you’re going to get your shit together and help Danvers.”

You turned around, crouched down, resting your arms on your legs.

“Either you do this by choice or I make you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know, now let’s go.”

Getting up, you walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, teleporting you from the statue to his office and let go of him.

“Thank you.”

“I would’ve left you up there.”

“No you wouldn’t, now shut up and take the damn file.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the file and you opened it, giving it a quick read over before tossing it back on to his desk.

“Seems like she can handle that.”

“Maybe most of it, except Danvers can’t touch the device, even with her powers it would destroy her.”

“Okay?”

Fury sighed.

“As a demigod you have that ability to touch it, I need you to get in there, grab the device, bring it back here and secure it for us.”

You sighed a bit.

“Fine. Okay.”

“Great, she’s already there, just get in and get out.”

You waved your hand dismissively at him as you teleported away, heading to the location.

You could tell that Carol was here, the guards were unconscious, and you made your way inside.

It wasn’t hard to find which way she was going, so you just made your way there, standing in the entrance of the room.

You watched as Carol reached out.

“If you value your hand and you life I wouldn’t.”

Carol spun around, fist raised but when she saw you she slowly lowered it.

You walked over, reaching out you picked up the circle object.

Tossing it in your hand, you examined it a little bit.

“What is it?”

“Don’t know.”

“Who did it belong to? What race?”

“Don’t know.”

Carol sighed a little, looking at you.

“Are we ever going to talk about this?”

“No.”

She slowly nodded her head and you turned your attention back to the device in your hand.

You held it up against the light, and you lowered it again, then you put it in your pocket looking around the room for anything else.

“We need to go.” Carol whispered.

“If the device is here then there has to be some sort of research, a hard drive or something and I need that as well.”

“Right, okay.”

Carol began to search around as well, anything she thought was related she would bring over to you to have a look at.

Most of it you threw aside, a few things you kept, stuffing them somewhere into your jacket.

“Take a look at this.”

You walked over to the superhero, taking a seat in the chair as you watched her type something into the keyboard.

“It’s not a weapon.” She said.

“It can still be just as dangerous, by the looks of this it’s something to bring back life.”

“How?”

You glanced at her before looking at the computer quickly erasing all the data.

“By taking the life of somebody else, it takes that life force, and for the right people it will use that energy to bring someone else to life, or add to their lifespan. These guy’s probably wanted to study it and try replicate it for their use.”

“Would that work?”

“No. Only a god can create something like this.”

You stood up, and turned around, only to be thrown back against the wall which knocked the air out of your lungs.

You fell to the floor, slowly taking a breath.

“Fuck…”

You slowly pushed yourself up and you looked around with hazy eyes, trying to find out where the shot came from.

You found Carol fighting the attackers.

You teleported away, dropping your jacket in Fury’s office.

“Don’t touch!”

With that you teleported back and grabbed Carol by the back of her suit and you threw her behind you, tensing your back as you felt someone hit you with something metal.

Spinning back around, you grabbed it as they tried to hit you once more.

Taking it from his hand, you tossed it aside and punched him through the wall.

Flames licked at your fists as you spun around, punching someone else to the ground.

Backing up, you put your back against Carol, and you both stood there back to back, fists raised.

“We can’t fight our way out of this…” she whispered.

“Give me you hand…”

“What?”

“Give me your damn hand Carol..”

You reached out behind you, and you felt Carol grab your hand.

“Don’t move…” you whispered.

You raised your foot, slamming it back on to the ground to send everybody around the pair of you flying out, then you were gone.

Letting go of Carols hand you vanished again, and you rolled your shoulders a bit, placing your hand on the wall.

“Sorry boys, it’s been real fun.”

Flames burst out of your hand, engulfing the wall in flames, and you swung your hand to the side, catching all the walls in flames.

You teleported out again, back into the office and you picked up your jacket.

“I’ve got their research don’t worry I’ll deal with it all.”

“As always it’s been a pleasure.” Fury said.

You said nothing, and you teleported from the room back to your home.

It wasn’t fancy, but it worked for you.

You had a hidden room for where you stored the device in a case and sealed it along with its researched and you left the room again.

Throwing yourself on your couch, you picked up a baseball and you threw it towards the door.

“Breaking and entering is illegal.”

“We need to talk.”

Carol walked over, setting the hall back on the table and she stood in front of you.

“We’ve got nothing to talk about.”

“Right, so you’re not ignoring me and everybody who talks to me?”

You shrugged a little and she sighed.

Walking over, Carol knelt in front of you, resting one of her arms in the couch and brought the other up to gently touch the side of your face.

“Please don’t angry with me..”

You reached around her, grabbing the tv remote to turn it on and she took it from you, setting it back on the table.

“Come on, please? I’m really sorry.”

You carried on ignoring her and she leant forward, resting her forehead in yours.

“(Y/N) you know I didn’t mean too.”

“You stood me up Carol, our two year anniversary and you stood me up.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I really am sorry.. my ship broke down and I had to fix it, then I had to come back here..”

“You could’ve called…”

“I did, you blocked me.”

You huffed a bit and she smiled.

“Come on.”

You moved your head back and head butted her slightly.

Carol laughed slightly.

“Okay maybe I deserved that.”

She got up, and she laid on you, putting her head on your shoulder, her hand coming down to hold one of yours.

“I’m not leaving though.”

Wrapping your arm around her, you closed your eyes, holding her tightly.

“I love you.” She grinned.

“I hate you.”

“Uh huh, keep telling yourself that.”

Grinning a little, you pressed a kiss to her head and she smiled brightly, closing her eyes as well

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel x y/n #marvel imagine #captain marvel #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel x you #captain marvel imagine #Carol Danvers #Carol Danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #Carol Danvers imagine

[emry-stars-art]

Just read the whole 'how Andreil pans out' ask and all I'm saying is that I love the idea of Andrew Courting Abram and Abram just absolutely misses that it's what is happening. Part of it is just a cultural difference, Evermore and Palmetto have different courting cultures perhaps?

Another part is that Andrew really does not act all THAT different. He's giving Abram gifts but like Andrew is always giving Abram stuff? It's not new? Yeah they had dinner together but that's just like what they......do?

Another another part is just Abram not even considering himself as someone worthy to be with Prince Andrew like that. He wasn't worthy before and after Evermore and everything I could imagine he feels even less like a person let alone a person who deserves Andrew's positive regard.

IDK I just love the idea of Abram at some point like 6 months into Andrew trying to court him seeing that behavior somewhere else, being told that's how nobility in Palmetto court others, and going to Andrew like "Have you, perchance, been trying to court me?"

Andrew setting his glass aside and looking up from where he's seated, "For 6 moons Abram, glad you've finally noticed." - @jtl-fics

jtl I. Wish. You could have seen my face as I read this, this is so hilarious and heartbreaking and lovely all in one and I’m in LOVE okay i love this so much. And we can totally make it work ahhhhh

Like yes! Yeah! Andrew’s already a gift giver, it’s just what he does as far as Abram’s concerned, and they spend so much time together that dinner isn’t strange those are perfect points. Like to the court it’s starting to become obvious - maybe in the kinds of gifts Andrew gives, or some other small things that are new, yes, but Abram has always taken these things in stride and usually his lack of judgement when Andrew tries new things or changes in little ways is a huge relief but not this time Abram PLEASE

Finally Andrew just bites the bullet and goes for a gesture that’s way more out of character and harder to mistake, which might look something like this (and thank you @leedee013 for tags about them giving each other flowers that I LOVED):

And Abram can’t really form his thoughts into words because like you said; he doesn’t think he should be allowed something like that, there’s no way he’s ever EVER going to assume that Andrew is trying to confess or clue him in to a courting like this, even if it’s in his head now

But then Lady Reynolds sees Abram later heading back to the castle/wherever he stays carrying this bouquet of carnations (fascination), narcissus (honesty/truth) and acacia (hidden love) (let’s not look too closely into these flower meanings lol, i picked the first ones I found and I’ll field all further questions with ‘artistic liberty’ 🫶) and they’re pretty close friends by now so she’s immediately like “oh my GODS Abram who gave that to you”

And Abram quietly says “the prince”

And Allison’s won like three separate bets between various other people of the court and she’s elated

But maybe she takes pity on him when she realizes exactly how clueless Abram is, so she does her best to explain everything and finally, Abram begins to allow the possibility that maybe Andrew is doing all this on purpose. But he would really rather like to be certain.

And of course I had to draw your little exchange but I did it from memory so apologies for the changes in dialogue but I love it:

ANYWAY from there, when it’s cleared up, it’s just them being dumb and sweet and grasping at straws for how to be in love and natural about it (because they’re both very private people and a good number of average/expected acts of courtship aren’t necessarily in their wheelhouse) 😭🥹 and not to add yet more hurt/comfort but Andrew is so so determined to figure out a way to assure and reassure Abram that he knows what he’s doing, yes Abram is worth it, yes he’s doing these things because he wants to. If he didn’t want to he wouldn’t be doing it in the first place. And I’ll bring it back around by using my previously mentioned artistic liberty to say that yes Prince Andrew loves having his hands held/kissed (just by Abram naturally) and Abram figures this out and absolutely uses it against him. They love each other your honor

Okay anyway thank you for the ask, I’m SO lucky to have such brilliant people in my inbox 🥰

#STG I WAS SMILING SO BIG WHEN I READ IT THROUGH #yeah they probably would have very different traditions! I like that a lot! #so it’d be even funnier when Abram finally calms down and relaxes into it #and yeah they can do flowers that works fine #but he probably accidentally/as a last effort tries some traditions from his native kingdom #they’re trying so hard but it’s a little lost in translation #ships passing in the night #they’re hopeless and I love them #GOD KEVIN WOULD HAVE TO DO THE TRANSLATION OF THE DIFFERENT CUSTOMS #He wants out of it so bad but there’s literally no one else to ask 😂😭 #idk if either of them would ever deign to involve or ask Kevin but now I’m laughing #anyway I need to stop or I’ll never shut up about this #thank you this is great #fan art #my art #aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #allison reynolds #royal au #asks #chibi

[kairiscorner]

HI SO HERE'S MORE MIGGY X BLACK CAT DYNAMIC HCS !!

(part 1)

you're the first one he trusts when he has to back down from being the leader for a bit. there are times when miguel has to step down as the leader for a little while, most of the time, it's because of jess and peter b encouraging him to take a break, and it's also because of how you've been telling him at times that he looks exhausted or could use some rest. when it comes to you, miguel thinks twice about what he's about to do and considers your opinion over his initial thoughts. the only reason why miguel refuses to take breaks in the first place was because of the lack of competent adults who could handle keeping the multiverse and spider society together--but then you came and proved to be capable yourself of handling all these people, along with jess and peter b. you became his right hand person, when he was gone, everyone answered to you. and the best part was, everyone was chill with you. they all listened and never really made fun of you, in fact, many wanted to get to know you better and get closer to you, so that was a plus. he does still worry about peter b letting most of the spider people have too much liberty when he's gone, but you're the equalizer to this trio of chaos, with you being a kind of "negative chaos" to balance them out. as long as you're around, miguel doesn't worry that much about anything.

he's always interested in you and what you love, in so many ways. with you coming off as a mysterious kind of character in the beginning, miguel has since become fond of everything you like, because not only does it remind him of you, but because it also reminds him of how happy they make you. he also sometimes finds himself watching you be mesmerized with something you're interested in, and when he asks you about it, he's treated to long sessions of you talking and rambling about the things you love; sometimes for hours on end. he hates it when people take up too much of his time, but when it's you, he never feels like he's wasted his time or that hours of listening to you was worth nothing--quite the opposite, really. miguel looks forward to talking to you about the things that interest you, and when your eyes beam, when your smile widens, and when your voice gets a little louder and you open up much more--he's satisfied. he's happy, and he's very open to listening to you talk and talk and talk when it's just you two, even if no one else is there and you've only got him to talk to. that's just the way you both like it, actually.

he's surprised yet unsurprised at how much you know about his little quirks and routines. you were always an astute one, always observing and listening for the tiniest details anyone could honestly never notice. though miguel never thought of himself as a subject of your interest, at least not enough for you to point out his little quirks and routines throughout the day. he never realized some of these quirks that he did when you one day pointed them out; like how he furrows his eyebrows when he's trying to read something, how only his top teeth show when he's smiling, how when he's being sarcastic, his eyes narrow--and how when he's really excited, his bottom teeth along with his top teeth show when he smiles. when he tries to hide it, he'll purse his lips, but his smile would still show; and a small twinkle dances in his eyes that show right now is not just a normal moment. you also point out how he usually has his coffee, and at what time, and what time he usually has his daily announcements at HQ, when he does his rounds--it makes him feel like someone's concerned for him when he doesn't follow these routines, that... maybe this is what it feels like to have a partner who cares about you and notices these small things. and when you don't do them, something feels off and they get worried. miguel blushed out of bashfulness when you first pointed out his little habits and out of surprise when you paid attention to his routine. it never struck him as creepy, because knowing you, you had your own little world; one he loved to be a part of. and when you showed that you were aware of such intimate, obscure details about him, he had felt a strange warmth for the first time in his life.

he loves sitting in silence with you. miguel hates chaotic and loud situations, much more with people who instigate these situations. you were never one of these people, you always valued your calm, serene quietness and abhorred unnecessary noises. miguel loved that about you, how you could work without bothering anyone nor being happy about causing noise. you were always yourself when you were in the quiet, you were sometimes in your own head when it was too quiet, though. you've never spent a long period of just silence as you worked, but when you got to know miguel and work with him, you felt a comfortable silence with him. it was never awkward, unlike how you anticipated it to be, but instead, it was a comforting silence that assured you he's here, even if you don't want to talk or do anything else, he'd rather just sit here in silence with you. maybe hold your hand or cuddle with you if you'd like.

he admires your out of the box thinking. despite looking like you'd have a "one way is the right way" kind of mind like miguel, you're the complete opposite. you don't rely on written or spoken rules to show you how to do something; you make your own way and never bother anyone else while you do it. you work independently and very, very creatively. you hatch up plans that nobody, not even he'd, ever thought of. being very open-minded and observant, you'd see details and things that slip out of many others' sights. miguel is incredibly proud of the way you solve problems, though he wants to be the one to solve them for you so you don't have any burdens or troubles to worry about, neither of you have to worry when you're able to fix things on your own. but when the going gets tough, miguel's door is always open for you. he'd be honored to help you out with a problem, and he'd wanna solve things your way before his own. because you're always right, and the right one for him :>

a/n: I LOVE THIS TROPE SO MUCH WTF, I'M MAKING MORE PARTS OF THIS AAAAAAAA

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @luvstarrstruck @binibinileonara

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara headcanons #atsv imagines #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spidersona

[elllisaaa]

maybe some dom! han jisung >_<?

olalalala yess please ! i was just waiting for an ask about him because he's my bias ! thank you anonie for giving me an excuse to rant about my favourite boy  🤭 and as much as i love to write him as a sub, him as a dom has me weak in the knees  😣

DOM!HAN JISUNG who is always so passionate, never thinking twice before doing something because you are the most divine thing he has ever tasted.

han loves to make out messily with you while you grind down on his hard cock, still fully clothed. he lets you play with his hair and tug on it, but if you take too much liberties, he holds your hand behind your back with one of his, the other guiding your hips, and not letting you stop until both of you cum, relishing in the way you're moaning and begging him to fuck you for real.

"you'll have to work some more to get my cock baby."

when he asks you to sit on his face, you think that it would be your chance to take control a little, but you were not prepared for the way he grips your thighs. han forces you to go at the pace HE wants you to go, helping you ride his tongue and making you cum at least two times. at least because he can never get enough of your sweet cunt, and he could be on his knees for you every hour of every day if you asked him.

"come on, sit on me, baby... gonna make you feel so good, i promise."

han would love quickies so much, he's always down to sneak into a random room before his show and fuck you because you're his good luck charm. and even if he knows that his members are at the dorms, he would not be ashamed to have his way with you and make you scream his name. it strokes his ego so much that even if you're embarassed about it, you can't stop moaning because he's fucking you too good.

"no, no, no ! you're not cumming if you don't show me your cute little sounds, okay ?"

before you, he never thought about being a dom, like really taking control over every inch of someone's body. but the fact that he could really pin you against a wall and fuck you dumb without you being able to do anything else than pleading for more was appealing. that's how he developed his strength kink. han adores having you worship his body but restricting your moves, leaving you squirming on his bed and begging for him felt even better.

"don't try, baby, i won't let you go until you're begging me."

and han also always wants to fuck you in doggy, granting him a better access to slap your ass, watching your cheeks redden more and more each time he lands his hand on your skin. and he does not care how many times you cum, only chasing his own release and not stopping until he's satisfied. the aftercare would be so sweet though, kissing your body all over and letting you know how good you did for him.

"fuck, yes... you're so tight baby, i love your pussy so much..."

#dom!han hits different really #eli answering your questions #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard hours #han jisung hard hours #han jisung hard thoughts