Intrusion - Sheldon Cooper

Barrel's Goddess 2

{Kaz Brekker x reader}

Summary: After Y/n stays for some time, she decides to take a new job. Kaz doesn't want her to leave.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, the plague.

Part 1: https://alcottsangel.tumblr.com/post/650830178156724224/barrels-goddess

@amwitherspoon @kaitlyn2907 @emil7y @thedelusionreaderbitch all asked for a second part, so here it is <3

Kaz offered her a room in the Slat. There was no point in hiding Y/n anymore, since the word already went around that they associated with one another. In the past few weeks, Y/n befriended all the Crows. She was charming, as always. That was her way, looking innocent, pretty, pure. That's how she got the people, how she earned her title. But she meant all the nice words she offered to the Crows.

The Slat was surprisingly homey. It felt good, to have a room to return to. A proper bed, warmth, everything she wasn't used to.

Yet, it also settled her in that place. That did not feel good. It scared her, the thought of being stuck somewhere.

Kaz gave her work, he always would. But it felt so wrong, absolutely against her mindset.

So while the Crows adored the seemingly pure woman, she proofed them that she had earned her title of a Saint. On every single mission, she was completely in control. Kaz trusted here more than any of the others, her word mattered as much as his.

She helped him with paperwork, with planning. The Dregs learned to listen to her within a few days.

As Y/n sat on the floor reading, Kaz sat on his desk scribbling down endless numbers.

"Kaz?" She suddenly asked into the calmness, which caused the bastard of the Barrel to look up to her. "Yes?"

"I found work." She told him, so he raised his brow. Kaz knew what that meant. It wasn't the first time, they had this conversation multiple times throughout the years they've known each other. Each time, it was a painful realisation.

"So you intend to leave." "I do." She nodded in agreement. Kaz looked back to the documents before him, only to look up again.

"Why?" He asked.

Y/n shrugged, closing her book.

"Because that's my way." Kaz scoffed.

"You could stay. Everyone loves you, they would be devastated if you would leave again for an eternity. We took you along on missions, we will continue with that. There is work for you here. There's also a room, food. People that care for you. Why do you always leave?"

She smiled at him. Why the hell did she smile at him? Kaz was mad, he wanted her to take this seriously. But she simply smiled, as softly as always. "Why do you never touch anyone?" She asked the counter question and Kaz remained silent.

"There is nothing that scares me more than settling down. Than stripping myself from the ability to leave whenever I feel like it, to go wherever I want. Kaz, you always forget that I've known you your entire life. That I've been there, that I saw Kaz Rietveld and Jordie Rietveld, that I saw both of them die. That I know why you can't endure to be touched. You were there too, when they hit me. When they abused and used me, without giving me a chance to leave. You were there when the plague killed my family, and when I thanked the Saints for that.

You saw the last time I prayed to someone but myself and you heard me promising myself to never depend on anyone but me. To make my freedom my highest value."

Dirtyhands knew she was right. Every door in the entire Barrel, all of Ketterdam, stood open for the Goddess. She would be a fool to give that chance up only to stay by his side. Still, it pained him. She was the only person he fully lend on, trusted. The only one that always had a role in his life, always would.

His counterpart.

He loved her, and if he could, he would admit it. But he was Kaz Brekker, and Kaz Brekker was an unlovable bastard, damaged, broken.

Kaz knew he should just drop the conversation, but he couldn't.

"Have you never even considered to stay?"

He instead asked, causing her gaze to get lost in the nowhere, considering her answer carefully. She was good at lying, keeping the words flow until the story worked out perfectly. It was her backup out of conversations like this one, but it felt wrong and not fair to simply cut him off with untrue words.

"I have. I had many dreams where I got everything I wanted. Where I saw the world, with enough money in my pockets. But when I wake up I instead see you with me. That's when I think that staying won't harm me. I often considered how beautiful it would be to return to a proper home, only to realise that I do. That you mean home to me."

Not only Kaz expression, also his heart dropped. He could feel the air stuck in his throat, trying hard to swallow the lump inside of it. He wanted to touch her, to feel her, to tell her how he returned that feeling. That each time she left, he felt unsteady. How much he needed her by his side to function. But Kaz didn't, and for a brief moment he felt as cowardly as only Kaz Rietveld did.

But Y/n didn't need to hear him say it. One look into his eyes was enough to be certain of all the untold truths. She was for a long time. So was he. They were fully aware of how much they loved each other, but they were both scared of all the things a confession would cause them. Y/n dropped her book to the floor, standing up to walk over to Kaz. He turned in his chair, facing her. Only a few inches separated them. She carefully raised her hand to brush over his face.

Kaz closed his eyes. They did this often. It was a touch he could bear, that didn't scare him. That reminded him that she was there, that she always would be in some way. That he had a home. She held her breath, as Kaz placed his gloved hand over hers, taking it from his cheek to place a soft kiss on her palm.

"I love you, Kaz. So much." She confessed, her voice nothing more than a whisper vanishing in the dark. He swallowed loudly, still holding her hand with his, still having his eyes closed.

"I love you, Y/n. You are the only God I would ever pray to. They only God I believe in, that has ever saved me." Dirtyhands told her, finally opening his eyes to look into hers.

"How often you may leave, every time that you return a home is waiting for you. A room, a bed, friends. I am waiting for you, because without you I'm not complete."

She could feel her eyes tear up. These words took so many years to finally be confessed.

"And I will always return to you. I promise, with all that I have, all that I am, that one day I will be brave enough to stay by your side."

"You always will be by my side."

It was an unspoken 'I promise'.

Because they belonged together, the bastard of the Barrel and the Barrel's Goddess.

The most powerful people in Ketterdam.

@renataligorio @kaqua @magravenwrites @corpsebasil @for-bebbanburg

can you write about dom!poly!marauders x sub!fem reader with them like outside of the bedroom with casual dominance? i hope this makes sense. i love your writing!

cw: fluff, casual dominance, creepy guy touches you near the end

“C’mon, up.” Sirius patted his thigh as he knelt, and you planted your shoe atop his leg. He tied the black laces of your ankle before patting your ankle, telling you to lower your foot. He stood, brushing his pristine slacks.

His hand returned to yours, fingers entangled as he pulled you along through Hogsmeade. Remus had a hand on you, too, right on your lower back. James settled for walking nearby, within arms length. They liked to be touching you at all times, for safety they would say.

Sirius held the door for you as James helped you over the threshold to The Three Broomsticks. The atmosphere warmed you instantly, lanterns illuminating the tavern and hearth glowing. The four of you took your usual seats in the back.

“Bangers and mash for me, and she’ll have apple pie, and a butter beer, please.” Remus ordered for you, giving the waitress a small smile. Of course you could order for yourself, but you never wanted to. The way they would take control for you made you feel small, protected.

When your hair fell into your face, James was quick to pull your hair back, holding it for you while you took a bite. The entire time, Remus kept his paw steady on your thigh, squeezing every once in a while.

After your meal, they took you into Honeydukes for a treat. You browsed the aisles of candy, landing on a box of peppermint toads. Happy with your decision, you went to find your boyfriends. But then, another sweet caught your eye. The brightly colored box of fizzing whizzbees beckoned you forward, hand reaching out to pluck the box from the shelf.

You were only allowed one item, you knew that. So, when Remus denied you, you turned to James. Giving him your biggest puppy dog eyes, you silently pleaded with him. James was strong in his will, crossing his arms with a stern look, telling you no wordlessly. You huffed in annoyance, returning the whizzbees to the shelf.

“That’s our good girl,” Sirius cooed as he paid for your candy, handing you the small bag. “Thank you, Si.” You placed a kiss on his cheek, placing both hands on his shoulder. You reentered the brisk, fall air, the cool breeze chilling your nose. You looked up, watching the smoke that billowed from the chimneys above.

When you looked back down, you realized you were suddenly unaccompanied in Hogsmeade. The boys having wandered off into a nearby shop, leaving you by your lonesome. A boy from your class approached, “Y’look lost, sweetheart.” You blushed uncomfortably at the pet name. “O-oh no my, my-”

“It’s okay,” he slipped a hand around your waist. “Why don’t I help you find your way back to my dorm.” His tone was all too suggestive for your liking, and you knew it wouldn’t be good if-

Sirius snaked a hand beneath your hair to grab your neck. “Is he bothering you, puppy?” Remus, James, and Sirius had returned to your side, crowding around you. Remus removed the unwelcomed hand that graced your skin, squeezing so hard you feared Remus might break his bones. The boy watched as Sirius’ fists clenched by his sides and James’ jaw tightened. He stepped back, strides faltering as he stuttered, “I-I think I’ll just be going.”

“That’s a great idea, mate.” James called out as the boy turned, running back to the castle. They wouldn’t tell you what they were planning on doing to the poor boy later, but when you were passing by the hospital wing one day, you figured it out.

TAGLIST: @ottjord @312903 @advictedtohim @itskailey24 @main-feetoffthetable @qualitybelieverflower @mollysolo @sorayasorayita @sgchamberlain @i-love-scott-mccall @wh0reforthemarauders @thewinterhunter @v4l3nt1n44 @emmaev @greenlyblue @harmqnia @maitaisonthebeach @riddikulusweasleys

Unrequited pt. 2

azriel (acotar) x reader

*this is part 2! Sorry for the wait guys! I really struggled with this and low-key I don’t like it but I hope y'all do! I wanna write the scenes after this but idk how im gonna make it work lol. anyway, enjoy!

word count: 3193

———————————

What you hadn’t realized was that Azriel left a few minutes later, walking to your apartment to make sure you had gotten home safe.

All of a sudden he heard whimpers and labored breathing coming from the alley.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you laying on the ground and bleeding out. He felt a tug in his chest. A click. Panic instilled in him as he gently but swiftly picked you up and flew you to Madja.

“Hang on y/n, you’re so strong” he whispered

In those moments, he feared for you. Fear that was so strong. Something he had never felt before.

He rushed into the house laying you on the bed gently before he was shoved out by the Madja so she could try to save you.

Azriel alerted the others and then collapsed into a chair, sitting in silence. A tear slipped out of his eye at the thought he may have been too late to save you.

You. His mate.

Why, of all the times did the bond have to click while you were on the brink of death. In a situation where you may not make it out alive. It wasn’t fair.

He wondered if you had known. Could that be the reason why you had been distancing yourself from him? Because you didn’t expect or want him to be your mate? But if you had known you would’ve said something, right? You wouldn’t keep it a secret? So many thoughts kept racing through his head.

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Tired

azriel (acotar) x reader

warnings: mentions of blood, depression

word count: 1809

Sunlight filtered through the curtains of your room and the sound of birds humming filled the room. Groggily, you opened your eyes, surveying the scene. The left side of your bed was cold and empty. Azriel must have had to head up to Windhaven earlier this morning.

Glancing to the window, you saw it was half way open. Azriel’s small gestures never failed to make you smile. He knew you loved the smell of the breeze and the fresh air. It was refreshing. A moment of peace.But recently, it got harder and harder to smile. You put on a front to alleviate suspicion. The last thing you wanted was the inner circle being worried about your problems while they were dealing with other threats.

Swinging your legs over the bed, you felt the cool breeze against them. You made your way to the bathroom, getting ready for the day. You splashed cold water onto your face to try and wake yourself up. You looked in the mirror and saw a stranger staring back. Your disgust and hatred surfaced as your grip tightened on the edge of the bathroom counter. Why were you feeling this way? You wished you could go back to normal, to the happy carefree person you were months ago. That person was nowhere to be seen and you were stuck like this, stuck in your head and your thoughts.

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set my soul alight

summary: loki finally has you right where he wants you.

warnings: slight dubcon, very very nsfw. knife play, enemies to lovers because if you’ve ever spoken to me you know i’m about that shit. as always, don’t read if you’re under 18. 

A/N: okay this is like… almost pure filth i don’t even know what to say. but in honor of no nut november being over imma share what i finished writing the second i had an orgasm for the first time in a month. title from supermassive black hole (yes the one from twilight!!)

—

You’ve done plenty of stupid things in your life. Chasing whiskey with wine coolers, texting back people you probably should have blocked – deciding that yes, working alongside the Avengers seemed like a perfectly reasonable career path for the rest of your life.

You could deal with the spies, the weapons dealers, the abandoned Hydra bases you’d raided for intel from time to time. You’d made peace with the fact that at any moment, you could be summoned for a mission you wouldn’t return from. And, well, it’s hard to regret your decision when it’s more than just walking the line between life and death. It’s the bonds you make with your teammates, the lifelong friendships you know will last with people that leap into the abyss right alongside you.

Oslo, Norway. It was supposed to be simple. You weren’t supposed to get caught. Taken. The question of how you got here is unnecessary, simply chalking it up to just another ill-advised decision you’d make in your life. If it lasts.

The God of Mischief stands before you, clear blue eyes raking over your bound form as he observes you. Your wrists are tied up above your head by what feels like silk, your ankles tied with the same material, bound to what feels like a post attached to a wooden beam. You’re upright, head lolling around on your shoulders as you rouse into consciousness. You become extremely aware of the fact that you’re still in the jeans and top you were wearing while you were supposed to be undercover earlier. Undetectable. So much for that.

“You’re awake.” Loki remarks, taking a calculated step towards you. No shit, you think. You drink him in, clad in an all black suit with his hair brushing the tops of his shoulders. He’s still disarmingly attractive, which is an in-fucking-convenient thought for you to be having considering he’d kidnapped you about – from what you can assume by the absent sun outside the window to your left – one or two hours ago. “Good. I’ve missed you, darling.”

Keep reading

I need help finding an azriel fic.

I hasn’t finished it and when I left the app it just disappeared.

It’s an enemies to lovers where the reader is a healer and specialises in healing Illyrian wings. At some point azriel and reader have to fly together to Windhaven. The last part i read was when Morrigan and Cassian came to Readers house after reader had hooked up with someone they met at Rita’s.

The fic also switches between first person readers pov and third person azriel pov.

hii! i recently saw on tiktok that elizabeth olsen lets chris write on her arm when he's feeling anxious during press so could i please request a chris evans x reader where the reader takes elizabeth's place and chris starts falling in love with the reader thanks to their help??

butterflies ⟶ chris evans

hi!! thank u so much for sending this in, the thought of chris dealing with anxiety IS CONSTANTLY breaking my heart...i mean everyone has it but like our chris 🥺 he doesn’t deserve to feel like that!!

and i saw the video for this, it was so adorable!

i’m just gonna tag @bearbear0923 bc ik how much she loves fluff

pairing: chris evans x reader

summary: chris has got butterflies for you—do you feel the same?

warnings: little bit of angst, mentions of anxiety, age-gap, really bad ending

masterlist

⊱ ────── {⋅. ☽ .⋅} ────── ⊰

sharpie ink is cold and sends a burning sensation over your skin, staining it so dark that even warm water and soap won’t wash it away, but when chris is drawing small butterflies on your forearm, it’s impossible to tell him to stop. his eyes are focused, not on the reporters shoving microphones and questions in his face, but on the small doodles he illustrated. “they could be tattoos,” he’d joke, with his tongue sticking out between his lips.

you would reply with a “maybe, chris” because the idea of a permanent picture on your skin. but unbeknownst to you, chris was serious.

robert, scarlett, and even mark had offered to help soothe his anxiety during nerve-racking moments. a few interviews had gone haywire, he’d even left a premiere in japan early, and no one had the ability to calm him down. except you. something about the way you spoke, the way you embraced him and held him in a tight hug, gently shushing him if a tear managed to escape. at first, no one else could see it.

but chris was in love. there had been countless sketches over your arms, wrists, hands, and any other bare spots that were easily accessible to chris. it had just been a friendly offer when you noticed the anxious look on his face during a press conference, and he had absentmindedly taken a sharpie to your forearm. “uh, chris?” you’d questioned, noticing that his strange actions were gathering the attention of your castmates and the audience in front of you. he’d brushed it off with his much-appreciated charm and people thought nothing of it. chris had later apologized when returning to your hotel rooms, enlightened to hear you say, “honestly, chris, if you ever need anything--including drawing on my arm,” he chuckled. “it’s alright. i’m here.”

it was not in his intentions to ‘catch feelings’. he felt immature, childish, and unprofessional to fall for his younger costar, but you were persistent on the drawings. eventually, it had even turned into holding and squeezing your hands underneath tables, but you seemed so unbothered by it he wondered if feelings were reciprocated. 

“she’s totally hot for you,” robert had joked in a hotel room one night. he had a glass of water in his hand while chris held a beer bottle, but he’d been so busy thinking about if you loved him back, he’d hardly taken a sip. yet somehow, both men were slurring their words. “but remember, man, if you go for her, people are gonna talk about it. she’s, at least, what...ten years younger than you? at least.” 

chris wasn’t being his normally chipper and talkative self. instead, he leaned back quietly on his bed and attempted to joke, “thanks for making me feel young again.”

the next day, he tried to restrain himself from anymore drawings or hand-squeezes. no more contact with you--it’d only have his heart shaking in his rib cage and he’d be falling head over heels for your all over again. unfortunately, and much to his dismay, he’d failed. all it took was one glance at you, and chris felt woozy in his stomach. your hair had been styled so perfectly, the color of your dress complimented your complexion so sweetly, and when your eyes met his, he only then noticed the smallest flecks of gold in them.

after countless interviews spent with either extremely rude or boring journalists, whose questions harshly peered into the privacy of you, chris, and your castmates, you noticed a sadly familiar look in chris’ eye. you popped open the lid from a permanent ink marker and watched as chris snatched it from your hand to scribble tiny doodles on your skin.

chris drew exactly what he was feeling. a small birdcage containing large butterflies too big to fit through the cracks to escape. they rattled around the metal, a clanking noise echoing through his rib cage with every beat of his heart. his tongue peeked through his lips, and with every stroke of the sharpie, a masterpiece was created on your skin. but, despite his adorable gaze that you noticed in the corner of your eye, you continued to speak with interviewers and answer their questions, almost disregarding chris’ presence.

little did he know, however, you’d given him permanent ink so that when you went to sleep that night, wishing he was in bed with you, you could look down at the drawing he’d made for you and imagine chris was yours.

Dating Felix from Once Upon a Time would Include....

The first time you traced the scar on his face he got really choked up

After all his years on Neverland, he wasn't used to positive physical contact, and your touch was so soft that he thought he might explode from an emotional overload

Likes to hold your hand when you're walking

Lunch and dinner dates at Granny's!!!

Holding hands over the table

Sharing fries and milkshakes

He only dances when you're alone

So Granny let's you stay past closing so you can use the jukebox

He's the big spoon most nights

But he also likes to be held by you

It makes him feel safe

His sketchbook is filled with drawings of you

You're his favorite subject

Taglist: (If you want to be added to my Felix Taglist Comment or DM me!)

Roaming Hands

Parings: Tom x Reader

Summary: You wake up early morning and need Tom

Warnings: Unprotected smut, dirty talk, small amount of anal stuff and talk of it

A/N: This is a request for @true-queen-of-mischief, hope you’re feeling better love. This can be read as a one shot, or as a sequel to Magic Hands. I have it linked next to the Masterlist

Word Count: 850

Masterlist | Magic Hands

You woke early in the morning and grabbed for your phone on the coffee table to check the time, it was only 3:39am. You tried to stretch out, but Tom’s grasp on you was too tight, you could barely move. You felt him stir behind you.

“What time is it love?” He asked; his voice thick with sleep.

“3:40 in the morning,” you yawned, covering your mouth as you spoke.

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Sleep

Maze Runner Minho x Fem!Reader: Sleep

Word Count: 287

“I do not deserve you,” Minho murmured, his low voice husked over from exhaustion. He kept a secure grip on her waist, pulling her into his chest before relaxing with a content sigh.

She was sure he did not mean for her to hear that, but she responded anyway. “Mmm, but I love you anyway.”

She felt Minho’s grip tighten and tensed when he shifted his position, settling back down when he placed a warm kiss on the back of her neck.

She loved moments like this; the way the heels of his feet dragged on the floor as he struggled to get up the steps of the Homestead. How she could see his eyes drooping at dinner after he had a long day of running.

He always struggled with his pajamas when he was so too tired, most of the time settling with no shirt and a pair of shorts. She loved when he would make her jump when coming up from behind and hugging her gently, his forearms wrapping around her middle. At that point, he would pull her onto the bed, already wishing to sleep the rest of the week away.

“You’re so warm,” Minho mumbled with his eyes closed.

She shuffled out of his arms - ignoring his tired whines - and twisted around so they were face to face. Minho, seeming to understand the hint, rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. She buried her face in his rising-and-falling chest, inhaling deeply. Minho tangled one hand in her hair, pushing down whenever she twisted, while the other rested on the small of her back.

“Never leave me.” Her voice drifted in and out of consciousness, but she managed.

“I promise.”