#and the bottom right was the last one i made
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𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊
genre: fluff, established relationship
word count: 1.6k
a/n: felt like writing something fluffy again 🤍 this being written on the same night as my previous smut fic is lowkey diabolical but well 🤭
masterlist
LEE HEESEUNG
You set your phone on a makeshift camera-holder made from books and candles, then press record and shuffle back to your boyfriend.
“Okay, close your eyes,” you instruct him and smile when he obliges, additionally turning his head to the side, looking straight into the camera as you apply the first chapstick from your little stack. After a couple seconds, you call out to him again, “You can open them now!”
His eyes instantly drop to your lips, the subtle glow of the chapstick already making him impatient to kiss you.
“You can go n-”
Your words are rudely interrupted by his greedy lips. They move with yours, starting with a simple peck, then going a little deeper, to taste you better. The sweetness is a little too much for him but he’s having too much fun teasing you this way to pull away right away.
But once he finally does, he’s met with your expecting eyes.
“Watermelon,” he guesses.
You nod your head with a wide smile. “Yeah!”
A small grimace makes its way on his face. “I fucking hated this one.”
“Yeah, I’m not the biggest fan either. Now, turn around.”
You wipe off the chapstick before carefully applying another one. Your fingers barely touch Heeseung’s shoulder to catch his attention, when his mouth is already latching onto yours.
He savors the taste of your lips, slowly and sensually and you feel more lightheaded with every next second. He captures your bottom lip, sucking on it repeatedly until you can’t breathe anymore. Suddenly reminding yourself of your surroundings, you pull away abruptly, ignoring your boyfriend’s cocky smirk.
Cleaning your throat, you fix your hair. “Great. Now I can’t post it anywhere.”
Heeseung grins at your pout, hand reaching up to pinch at your cheek teasingly.
“It was coconut, by the way,” he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask it, and damn, he’s right again.
PARK JAY
Jay watches as a grin spreads onto your lips.
“I picked that one just for you,” you say sweetly, shuffling closer on the bed until your knees touch. “C’mon, give it a try.”
He snickers slightly when you close your eyes and obnoxiously pucker your lips, waiting for him to make a move. Leaning forward, he gently cradles your cheek in his hand before pressing the softest of kisses on your lips. You let him suck on your lips for a moment before he pulls away first and flicks your nose.
“Oh, that’s honey.”
You nod with enthusiasm, pretending as if his kiss hasn’t flipped your insides out. “Yeah. Good guess!”
He closes his eyes, his hand blindly reaching out for yours to rub circles on your soft skin as you apply the next chapstick. You smack your lips together to even out the product, then move closer to your boyfriend again.
His pretty eyes find yours again and he closes the space between you two, pressing your lips together lovingly. Your fingers clench on his t-shirt, and you tilt your face to the side to deepen the kiss slightly. But, fuck, you just can’t help yourself.
It’s Jay who has to pull away again with a small giggle, thumb wiping away the smudged chapstick from under your bottom lip.
He licks his lips, tasting the waxy residue you’ve left from your kiss. Then he thinks for a second. “... Peach?”
You nod with a satisfied hum. “One more?”
This time you’re not gonna fuck around. You pick the most bizarre chapstick flavor in front of your eyes, then call Jay over to you, waiting for him with a soft smile on your lips.
“This one’s a little more difficult.”
Jay grunts then kisses your pink, now slightly swollen lips. A content sigh escapes your lips at his tender touch, shivering when the cool ring on his finger brushes over the skin on your thigh. The kiss lasts a little longer than the two previous ones but Jay breaks it after stealing all of your breath away.
“I think it’s like… pear,” he guesses, a little unsurely this time but this expression melts away when your face lightens up again.
“Yeah! Holy shit, babe, how are you so good at this?”
SIM JAKE
He didn’t even need a second to think to agree to your game. Now, with you sitting across from him on the living room floor, he presses your lips together to try the first chapstick.
What he never expected was for you to taste so damn good, so with a low hum in his throat, he pulls you closer to him by your neck and takes in all the sweetness of you. His other hand lands right under your jaw, gentle fingers tilting your face up for a better access to your lips.
After another second or two or five, you drag your face away from his and wait for your boyfriend’s guess.
Jake licks his lips and tries his best to look as if he actually has a clue in what he’s doing. It’s not like he completely got fucking lost in your lips – not at all, what a stupid thought.
And so he shoots blankly. “Okay, this gotta be like… tangerine.”
You look at him ridiculously. “What, no! That was vanilla.”
“Oh… Yeah, you’re right,” he clears his throat, hand running through his soft hair. “Gimme the next one.”
You roll your eyes and throw a blanket across his face, knowing well his tendencies to cheating. You take one of your makeup wipes and clean your lips, eyes searching for some easy flavor. Once you’re done picking, you take the blanket off Jake’s face and get on your knees in front of him.
Deciding on helping him out a little bit and not letting him get distracted again, you place a simple peck on his mouth, long enough for him to actually get a taste of your chapstick.
Jake presses his lips together as he thinks for a moment. “Is it apricot?”
Your jaw slacks in disbelief. “Oh, be so for real right now! That was like the easiest guess of them all!”
“Well, what was it?” He scrunches his nose.
“Strawberry! Fuck you mean apricot?”
Jake can’t help but giggle at how aggravated you’re getting with this game. “Sorry, sorry. One last try! I promise I’ll get this one.” He places his palm over his heart.
“Fine.”
You repeat the procedure, then go in for a peck again, not wanting to risk losing your boyfriend again.
“And?” You ask, a hopeful glimmer in your eyes.
“Cherry.”
You let out a heavy sigh. “That was rose.”
Jake snickers, finally grabbing your waist to drag you all over the way to his lap. “Should’ve guessed that. You tasted like a granny, felt like I was kissing a seventy year old.”
“Hey!”
PARK SUNGHOON
Even expecting him to actually take you seriously was your first mistake.
But your lips are so pink and so glossy - you can’t blame him, really. It’s like you’re begging to be kissed over and over again.
And so now, sitting next to you on the couch, he has your soft hand covering his eyes to prevent him from cheating. You apply the mango chapstick generously onto your lips and return your boyfriend’s vision a moment later.
You turn your face to his unimpressed one, an adorably excited smile spread on your lips and making his own twitch up a little.
“You ready?” You chirp, hiding the chapstick behind your back.
He motions for you to move closer, spreading his legs to make you more place in between them. “C’mere, baby.”
With a roll of your eyes, you still oblige and settle between his thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck. Not wasting any more time, Sunghoon ducks down and captures your lips with his. The kiss is deep and takes all of your breath away when his tongue slides over your bottom lip lewdly.
His kiss is way too intense for the silly game you had in mind in the first place, so before he can go even further, you pull away from him, cupping his chin in your hand.
“So?”
Sunghoon shrugs, eyes hungry for more. “Dunno. Lemme have another go.”
“Hey!” You pout, puckering your lips and giving him a perfect opportunity to press another kiss to them. And so he does, surging forward and molding your mouths together again.
He sucks on your lip like a hungry man, his caresses sloppy and without a care in the world for your game anymore. His body aches for you, for more, so he opens your mouth by tugging your chin down gently with his warm fingers, then slipping his tongue inside your mouth.
“My god, Hoon-” You push on his chest gently, trying to pry the visibly touch-starved man away from your lips. “Wait, let me try another one.”
Sunghoon dismisses your protests and presses another kiss to your lips. “Nah, I like that one.”
“But that’s the first one I tried on!” You whine, slowly surrendering yourself to your stubborn boyfriend.
“Well, then it obviously was the best pick.”
Sunghoon’s arm slides down to wrap around your waist firmly before falling backwards on the couch and pulling you onto his chest as he goes down. He chuckles in your lips at your annoyed grunt, his fingers cradling your cheek as he deepens the kiss. As much as you want to tell yourself you’ll never play this fucking game with him again, you know it would be a blatant lie after all.
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Brats Get Punished
You choose to be a brat. Punishment ensues.
Paige Bueckers x reader
Word Count: 3.5k
Themes: slight angst, smut (18+)
I got wine drunk and came up with this. This is pure filth. I'm so sorry
Today had fucking sucked.
No. Scratch that. The whole week had fucking sucked.
You held back tears as you walked through uconn’s campus, heading back to your dorm. All you wanted was to be taken care of. This week had been wracked with a million assignments, frustrating exams, and family drama you couldn’t escape, even all the way in Connecticut. The cherry on the top of the miserable sundae was your lack of Paige. With basketball season ramping up and finals nearing, you hadn’t seen your girlfriend in five whole days.
It felt like five days without air.
The thought makes your heart ache once again, and you throw on your sunglasses to hide the redness of your swollen eyes.
The bitter northeastern cold of early December made you shiver as you shoved your hands deeper into your pockets.
It was finally friday.
Tonight you could escape into the vastness of Paige’s blue eyes. You had no thoughts when you were with her, just habitual feelings of comfort and intimacy you couldn’t get from anyone else.
You were looking forward to cocky smirks, long, talented fingers, and a mouth that had a power to shut you up in more ways than one.
Fuck.
The thought makes your bottom lip quiver. Usually, you had a little bit more of a general grip on things; you could handle your emotions perfectly fine, thank you very much. But the overwhelming shitiness makes you want to pout and whine until you get your way. You felt sorry for anyone dealing with your bratty ass tonight. Namely Paige, but you knew she could handle it.
Trudging up the stairs to your dorm and stomping into your room, you dramatically fling yourself onto your bed. You lay there momentarily before you hear a gentle knock on your door.
Groaning, you head to open it and find Paige standing there with an apprehensive look on her face. You barely have time to register why she would be anything but ecstatic to see you before launching yourself at her taller frame.
She stumbles back at the sudden force of your body but recovers quickly, wrapping her arms around your middle and bringing you into a tight hug.
You let out all the air and frustration that had been pent up over the last week as soon as you connect.
“Paigey,” you whine, “I missed you so fucking much.” Your hands roam her body, trying to cling to her in an effort to never let her go.
“I missed you, too, baby…” she trails quietly.
That was weird. Why wasn't she excited to see you? Paige was always characteristically exuberant around you, and she was excitement personified. This Paige was not your Paige, and your stomach rolled with worry.
“Geno is having us do an extra practice tonight,” she explains carefully.
Your heart drops into your ass. No wonder she seemed off.
As you realize that you would be spending yet another night alone, your eyes well up with thick, hot, and angry tears. You spin on your heels, retreating back into your room in defeat.
“C’mon, talk to me. It’s not like I want to be away from you. As soon as I’m done with practice, I’ll come right over. I’ll even pick up your favorite ice cream,” she tries to reason.
“W-want you now,” you stutter out. Your words start to slur together with frustration. “Don’t even care anymore; just go away.”
Your venomous words don't dissuade the pang in your heart. Of course you didn’t want her to go. And of course you still cared. But you were feeling like a brat and you were a glutton for punishing yourself.
“Ya know, you might want to watch your attitude,” Paige grits out. Her jaw tenses in a way that makes you squeeze your thighs together.
Then you remember you were supposed to be pissed. You roll your tear-filled eyes and cross your arms with a huff. This exasperates your blonde girlfriend even further.
“Once you stop acting like a fucking brat, give me a call, and then I’d be happy to give you some attention. Stop punishing me for shit I can’t control.” Paige says with an impressive amount of restraint. She turns around to leave with one last disappointed glance in your direction.
In her harsh exit, you fall apart.
Sitting in your dark room, cocooned in your sadness, guilt, and general horniness, you watch the hours slip by.
8:00
9:00
10:00
Your eyes are tired with both sleep and grief by the time the clock turns to 11:00, but you can’t ignore the way you were pulsating with desire just thinking about Paige.
Your brain wrestles with either keeping up your facade of nonchalance and running to Paige, apologies spilling from your mouth with desperation. You were so damn stubborn, never wanting to back down, but you could barely think anymore.
Your fingers dance around the hem of Paige’s soft t-shirt you had stolen. You fight with yourself internally before pulling it over your head with a groan. Your sweatpants quickly follow.
Dating Paige meant there was rarely a need for self-pleasure. Why would you when she was always at your beck and call?
Huffing at the sheer stupidity of the situation, you close your eyes and bring one hand to your left tit, rolling your nipple experimentally. It feels nice, but you needed more.
You always needed more.
Your right hand trails down your stomach sensually, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and lands on the swollen nub that holds all the pleasure. Circling your clit, you try to coax out an orgasm. Your pussy was sopping after spending the evening thinking about Paige, but nothing was clicking for you. You let out a small whine of annoyance.
Your hand felt too small, too cold, too wrong.
Nevertheless, you were fucking desperate. The unkindness of the past week had been even more cruel to your sex life. You hadn’t cum in what felt like forever. You needed this.
Hesitantly, you enter a finger into your dripping hole. Again, it feels nice, but the angle is all too wrong. If Paige was here, you’d already be panting like a whore, begging for another finger and her tongue.
You pull out of yourself, sucking the wetness off your finger before throwing yourself back down onto the pillows.
‘Fuck,’ you thought. It was time to surrender. You needed Paige.
Before you can overthink some more and chicken out, you feel your body pull itself out of your dorm all the way to Paige’s apartment. It's as if you have no control over your idiotic, lovestruck brain.
Paige was patient, and she was so in love with you, but you knew you’d be doing some serious groveling tonight. ‘And hopefully having some seriously good sex,’ you think slyly.
Feeling bashful, you knock on her door. You knew she was out of practice now, and you were ready to give up your tortured whining in order to finally get what you needed.
Paige opens the door, looking down at you with a knowing smirk. “Lemme guess, babe. You need me,” she purrs in a mocking tone that makes you want to jump her bones.
You want to protest, but you know it would be no use. She knew she held all of the power over you, and she was not going to let you walk away unscathed tonight.
“Baby, I‘m sorry,” you sigh, trying to appear as solemn as you could. “This week just got the best of me. It’s not your fault you had practice.” You really were sorry, but you were more concerned about fixing the dampness in your panties than you were about coming off as regretful about your past attitude.
Paige reaches out a hand to draw you in closer, pulling you into her familiar warmth. You could feel yourself melt into her, worries evaporating quickly. Her eyes softened at your apology, but you could still see a sadistic glint in them.
You were so getting it tonight. You didn’t care as long as it ended with your back arching off Paige’s bed, her name leaving your lips continuously, like a prayer.
The hand that was resting on your hip trails up to rest loosely around your throat. Her thumb caresses your carotid pulse, which was pounding dangerously in her wake. She smirks at your blatant anticipation before leaning down to suck right at her favorite little spot just under your ear.
You moan lasciviously, almost causing you to miss the words she whispers next.
“Get your ass on my bed. You know what position I want you in.”
Your face heats up, and your stomach lurches. You knew you were getting the dominant version of your girlfriend tonight, but to this extent? This side of her rarely came out. You swallow thickly as you grasp the consequences of just how far you had taken things earlier.
As much as Paige’s dominant side made you feel timid, your desire to get thrown around and fucked out took over.
“Now, you little slut,” she all but growls, as you hesitate, your thoughts and apprehension momentarily stilling you. The degradation of her words ignites a flame in the pit of your belly once more, and you fall headfirst into subspace.
You stumble into her bedroom, throwing your sweatshirt over your head haphazardly and shimmying out of your pants. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your nearly naked figure in her full-length mirror, taking a second to admire the swell of your ass and the heaving of your chest.
Leaving you in nothing but a plain black thong, you kneel on Paige’s bed, your ass resting on your heels in a display of submission that had you wanting to be good, so good, for your blonde girlfriend.
Paige leaves you waiting for a few minutes, making you squirm anxiously. You didn’t know what to expect with her tonight. The last time you acted this childishly, you weren’t allowed to cum. ‘Bratty whores don’t get to cum,’ you recalled her whispering in your ear mercilessly.
‘If that was the case tonight, I might just die,’ you think as you desperately shift your thighs in an attempt to feel an ounce of pleasure.
Soon enough, Paige strolls in looking smug at your visible distress.
“My poor baby,” she pouts derisively, eliciting a whine from your mouth at the mention of you being her baby. “Why don’t you tell me why you decided to come apologize tonight. I know it wasn’t just because you were feeling guilty.” She looks up and down at you expectantly, waiting for a bullshit excuse she knew she was getting.
You realize that lying would get you absolutely nowhere with her tonight, and you decide to be honest. “Need you,” you mumble, you face feeling hot once more. “Tried touching myself. Didn’t feel as good as you…” you trail off.
Paige’s face lights up at this admission, and she grins sinfully. “Get on your back and show me how you tried to touch yourself,” she softly demands. She had tried to get you to masturbate in front of her before, but you had always been too embarrassed to do so. It felt so ridiculously private, and the thought of her seeing your failed attempts to get off without her made you want to hide under the blankets.
“C’mon, baby girl,” she coaxes. “If you want me to touch you, you gotta touch yourself first.”
You stare at her, jutting out your bottom lip in protest before sighing in defeat. You adjust yourself against her pillows at the top of the bed and spread your legs teasingly.
‘Might as well make a show of it if I have to do this,’ you think, trying to find a way to feel more comfortable with the sheer act of perversion.
Paige settles in on the edge of the bed. She had the perfect view of your soaked pussy, still hidden beneath your black thong, and of your peaked nipples, begging to be licked and bitten. You run your hands up and down your body a few times, just as you had earlier in your bedroom, trying to put on a performance to appease your girlfriend. You needed her to be in the best possible mood.
After spending a few moments tending to your tits, squeezing them with an appropriate amount of vigor, you take off your panties and throw them to Paige. She catches them, and upon seeing how soaked they were, says, “this is turning you on, isn’t it? You like having to touch yourself in front of me. Such a naughty, little slut."
You bite your lip, but nod reluctantly. This was fucking embarrassing, but it turned you on, and you hated having to admit that to her.
“Knew it,” she responded arrogantly. “Keep going.”
You dip a finger into your folds and swirl the wetness around your weeping hole before bringing it back up to your needy and swollen clit. A few circles around it and you’re already letting out puffs of air. Just the sight of Paige in front of you has you panting.
You sneak a glance at Paige, seeing her enthralled by your performance. The idea of being able to please her makes you want to keep going, but you hoped you wouldn’t have to be responsible for your own orgasms tonight. Your pussy belonged to her.
“Please, P,” you moan. “I need you. My fingers aren’t enough.”
She pretends to think about it before shaking her head with a stupid grin on her face. She was getting way too much enjoyment out of this. You let out a huff in annoyance before entering two of your slim fingers into your pussy and thrusting harshly upwards towards your g-spot.
You knew you’d never really had any luck getting off this way. The angle was too weird, and your fingers were too small to really get you anywhere. The only g-spot you could reach was Paige’s, and you whimper at the lack of pleasure you were getting.
Feeling incredibly frustrated, you make eye contact with the blonde, and plead with her to do something, anything, to get you closer to the finish line.
“Want some help?” Paige asks smugly. You desperately nod. “Beg,” she says shortly.
Fuck. You had told yourself you wouldn’t beg tonight. But you were feeling hopeless, so if she wanted you to beg, you would.
“Please, please, please, Paigey, I'll do anything for you, just touch me,” you moan brokenly. “Just need you, only you, don’t want anyone else, please, baby, please,” you let out, words overlapping each other with a vicious need to prove to her that you needed her with your whole being.
It must’ve done the trick because before you can even register what is happening, she's on top of you, fervently kissing you and groping your tits. You preen at the attention, finally getting what you’ve wanted and needed all week, and kiss her back. You welcome the taste of her tongue in your mouth, getting drunk on the way she alternates between kissing your lips and your neck.
As she trails her kisses down your neck to your chest, you watch her lips close over a nipple, sucking it in gently before biting down, causing a gasp to leave your now swollen lips. Paige grins wickedly at your reaction, but she continues her descent towards your drenched pussy.
You buck your hips to try and meet her mouth, but she presses them back down with strong hands and avoids the area altogether. She presses hot, open mouth kisses onto your inner thighs, making you squirm even more.
Her touch, or lack thereof, made you want to cry. You needed more stimulation or you might just die.
Paige studies your wetness for a moment before meeting your eyes. She has a mischievous glint in her eye that makes your belly turn in anticipation.
“I’ll eat you out, baby,” she simpers, “but you still need to be punished.”
You wrinkle your brow in confusion. This wasn’t punishment?
“What’d you mean?” you ask reluctantly.
Paige sits up and pats her lap. “Get your ass over on my lap. Since you decided to act like a brat earlier, I’m going to punish you like one.”
Your heart pounds once more at the realization you were about to be spanked by your girlfriend. So much for thinking you were getting let off easy tonight.
You drape yourself across Paige’s lap, suddenly feeling extra grateful for the apartment’s emptiness tonight. It was rare that you and Paige got time to yourselves, and the idea of anyone hearing you being subjected to this was enough to make you want to hide forever.
The first smack comes quicker than you were expecting and reverberates through the small room. If it wasn’t for Paige anchoring you to her, you would’ve flown off in shock. The sharpness of the swat forces blood into your cheeks.
You internally curse yourself for how much you enjoy it. Three slaps follow in quick succession, and before you know it, you’re even more of a moaning mess in Paige’s lap. You have to force yourself to stop from grinding your hips in an effort to chase some pleasure to accompany the delicious pain of your punishment.
Paige rubs a few circles on your ass, admiring the gorgeous pinkness that blooms under her hand.
“Fuck, you little slut,” she murmurs. “Of course you’re enjoying this shit.”
You shake your head in protest, but to no avail. You knew she could see right through your bullshit, and she rolled her eyes fondly. “I think I’ve put my girl through enough. Are you ready to be a good girl for me?” she questions.
“I’ll be so good. Promise,” you moan into her neck, causing her to let out a giggle.
Paige lays you onto your back once more and finally brings her mouth down to your sex. She dives in, circling your clit with her hot, wet tongue, and immediately adds two long fingers into your dripping hole with no warning. You arch off the bed wantonly, relishing in the pleasure you had been chasing for days.
She spreads your legs apart even further, attempting to get even deeper into you. For both of you, it would never be enough. The sheer amount of desire you felt for the woman between your thighs swelled in the moment, and you feel yourself inch closer to the edge. You teeter at the brink, reveling in the throes of pleasure and passion.
You’re babbling now-straight bullshit leaving your lips, mixing apologies and pleading for Paige to let you cum.
Paige is now full on assaulting your pussy. Three lengthy digits pushing at your g-spot at a punishing pace and sucking your clit like it was a fucking lollipop.
Moans, groans, and slick noises fill the room. It was pure depravity, and you were both loving every second of it. In a final plea to let you cum, Paige concedes smugly. She knew she had turned your bratty ass into a whimpering mess, and she was going to relish in you coming undone in front of her.
As soon as you get the green light, you all but scream, feeling as if everything is snapping into place all at once. Your chest heaves and your thighs try to close around Paige’s head, feeling suddenly overstimulated. Pushing them back out, Paige forces you to ride out the orgasm fully.
“Fuck,” you groan. That was the hardest you’d cum in a while, due to the absolute buildup of it all.
Licking her lips seductively, Paige meets you in a searing kiss that makes you melt back into her soft bedding once more. Paige was always so gentle with you after being particularly dominant.
“Gonna go get a rag. Don’t move. Gonna take good care of my sweet girl. So good for me tonight,” she praises.
Too fucked out to protest, you lay back, allowing her to pamper you. Your eyes felt as heavy as rocks, and you struggled to stay awake.
“I really am sorry,” you mumble sleepily into her neck. “Didn't want to make you mad. Just needed you.”
“I know, baby,” Paige replies tenderly. “Not sure if the spanking was an actual punishment, though.”
You giggle at her admission. It really wasn’t.
In fact, you were already scheming ways to get another spanking.
‘Once a brat, always a brat.’
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Those 7 Long Years
PLATONIC Papa Alastor x GN!Child!Reader
TW: Angst- Alastor disappearing for those 7 years, fear of abandonment, separation anxiety.
A/N: I wanna say by this time Reader is about in their pre-teen/teen years depending on how fast you think they are aging in the story!!
Your day started off fine but your Papa wasn’t anywhere around..but then he was never around..Until one day he popped back into existence.
It was a peaceful morning, as peaceful as it could get in hell, but nonetheless you got yourself up and dressed for the day. Slowly making your way from your bedroom to your Papa’s bedroom, he didn’t wake you up so you figured he had gotten busy but he wasn’t around..which was weird but not exactly out of the ordinary for him, he was a busy man. You knocked once..then twice..but he never answered so you slowly opened the door, “Papa?” You called out peering into his bedroom but he wasn’t there. You closed the door and made your way downstairs hoping to see your Papa’s shadow waiting for you at the bottom of the staircase but it was never there to greet you and you couldn’t hear his jazz playing from the kitchen either but you trekked onwards to find your Papa.
Hours..you spent hours running around the hotel trying to find him. You checked his bedroom and radio tower four times. Fear started to creep into your heart as you sat on the sofa in the foyer, tears welling up into your eyes as you tried to not think about it. He would be back, maybe he was at a meeting or got sidetracked with Auntie Rosie. Yeah! That had to be it, he was sidetracked with Auntie Rosie, you could give her a call and see if he was still there! But you didn’t move from the spot, just curled in on yourself and watched the doors of the hotel. He would come back eventually…right?
You glanced back at Charlie who was sitting right next to you and curled your legs into you even more. “Waiting for Papa..” You whispered out, answering her unasked question, “He wasn’t in his room or tower this morning..he’ll be back soon.” You whispered out looking back at her, tears falling down your cheeks. “He wouldn’t abandon me right?” Your voice broke on the last syllable as you clung to her arm. Her heart shattered at the sight of you crying..Where was Alastor?
You stayed in her arms for an hour or two just crying your little heart out. She didn’t want you to feel like you were alone anymore..
~~~7 YEARS LATER~~~
When Alastor had returned from his long 7 years away from the spotlight and his little fawn, he had entered the hotel like nothing had happened..because nothing happened. But something felt off when he entered, something..no someone was missing. Where was his little fawn? His shadow disappeared from his side and moved towards the stairs as if waiting for you to run down them at any moment but that moment never came.
He hummed and walked towards the stairs before stopping when he saw you standing at the end of the hallway. Tears in your eyes, his heart shattered seeing you cry, he broke that one promise he made to himself years ago. To never be the one to make you cry. But here he was, silently watching as you broke down dropping the plates you were holding but before they could crash onto the ground his shadow had quickly scooped them up. “Papa…” You whispered out as he made his way over to you, watching you shake and tremble between each sob. Without a word he pulled you into his chest allowing you to cling to him, “You left, Papa.” He gently wrapped his arms around your smaller frame. He hated seeing you cry. He hated being the cause of your pain.
“I know, Little Fawn..I’m sorry.” He whispered out his ear flattening against his head, he couldn’t tell you why..he didn’t need to drag you into his problems. “You said you wouldn’t leave me again, but you did.” His smile pulled into a small frown as he rubbed your back, allowing you to cling to his jacket.
“I’m here to stay for good, Fawn. I won’t leave anymore.” He whispered out and he would stay. He’d keep you by his side until this silly redemption hotel worked and you went up into heaven where you rightfully belonged.
A/N: IM KINDA BACK FROM THE DEAD-
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#gn reader#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x you#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor#platonic#papa alastor#child reader
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knowin' that it probably isn't true -> cool about it [4]
in which: a son of jupiter can't remember the life he lost to time and circumstance. or the daughter of mercury he lost, too.
pairing: jason grace x daughter of mercury!roman!reader
warnings: cursing, angst, slight panic attack?
word count: 5.3k
a/n: how can this possibly be the final part. like what? also, it's been forever since I've read the ending go heroes of Olympus so I cannot for the life of me remember how canon accurate this is.
one two three [four]
There was one rule Jason was always willing to break.
For you, he had murmured into the side of your head, just above your ear, as he pulled you close the first night it had happened. You hadn't been able to help the roll of your watery, red-rimmed eyes. Or the skip of your heart.
Big declaration, Jase, you had fired back, pretending your voice wasn't shaking, that you hadn't made a much bigger declaration by seeking him out after curfew.
Leave it to the daughter of thieves to break and enter into the praetor's private room.
The first night it happened, you had gotten a rather stiff and formal letter from your mother, explaining why it was simply the better choice for you to stay at camp over the holidays. In front of everyone, you had kept it together.
Alone in your bunk, you broke down.
It was an easy decision, then, to go find Jason. A natural instinct, practically, was leading you through the bunkhouse on silent, swift feet despite the tears staining your face. When you had slipped into Jason's room, he had bolted awake.
You were prepared for a lecture. Instead, he just opened his arms.
So there was one rule that Jason Grace was willing to break.
Curfew.
You were careful not abuse your privilege, only searching him out when needed.
And right now, he was needed.
Your feet carried you soundlessly through the corridors, your heart hammering in your chest and bottom lip caught between your teeth, almost bloody with worry. The dream had been fast, uncontrollable, terrifying.
Not once had you ever bothered knocking on his door, and you didn't start now, twisting the knob and careful to only open it as much as you needed to slip through, because if you went any wider the hinges would squeak and Reyna could only overlook so much.
The sight of him, asleep in bed, hair tousled and face almost peaceful, was nearly enough to settle you. But then flashes of your dream came back, and you knew you needed more.
Easing the door shut, you made sure the latch clicked in place as silently as you could manage. The absolute last thing you needed was some nosy Lar floating by seeing you breaking the rules alongside Jason.
The teasing would never end.
Despite praetor's getting the privilege of having their own rooms, they remained in standard issue sized bunks. Which meant that you couldn't help but press against him as you climbed under the covers, body already half-hanging over the far edge. The movement of the mattress jostled him awake, like always, and he slowly blinked his tired eyes open.
You remained silent as he got his bearings, bottom lip caught between your teeth to keep from spilling out the gory details of your desperation to see him before he even realized what was happening.
He twisted, copying your position of laying on his side, one arm curled underneath his head to prop it up just slightly.
"Hey, you," Jason mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. He stretched slightly, using the movement to reach out and brush his thumb across your cheek, as if he was checking for tears he couldn't see in the dim room. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Sleeping was the problem," You shook your head, kicking your leg forwards under the blanket to knock against his, just the barest excuse to touch him and confirm he was real and alive and laying before you.
"Nightmare?" Like he ever needed to ask. So few things got you worked up enough to risk getting caught sneaking into his room.
"Mhm," You hummed, anyway, eyes tracing the barest outline of his face visible to you in the dark of the room. The moon provide some light through the window, but you had Jason's features memorized from the time you were fourteen.
"What was it about, this time?" He asked, and you wished you could hate him for the way he sounded genuinely concerned and like he wanted to know. The pounding in your heart as he knocked his leg forwards against yours, a mimic of your own actions seconds earlier, would be easier to deal with.
"You." Without cracking, you managed to force the word out at a volume barely audible in the otherwise silent room. Your stare was focused on his chin, because you couldn't meet his eyes as you confessed, and his nose was too close to his eyes, and looking at his lips made you want to do something incredibly stupid.
His chin was neutral territory, even if you wanted to kiss there, too.
"Me?" He sounded like he didn't understand, which you gave him grace for. Yes, your nightmare was about him, but not because of anything he did, so much as what happened to him. Not the first of its kind, but after the fight with Krios, it stung a little deeper.
"You went on a quest, without me, again." Your murmured, gaze still fixed on his chin. He stayed silent, knowing you better than you knew yourself, knowing that you needed him to wait for you to find the right words. "And... and you didn't come back to me, Jase, you had promised, but you didn't—"
Your shudder took you by surprise, eyes squeezed shut tight to try and fight the stinging quickly growing there, your lungs burning with the effort to contain your sobs. You tried all your usual tricks to keep from crying. Counting silently, deep breaths through your nose, hands squeezing into fists so tight your nails cut crescent shaped marks into the heel of your palms leaking the slightest bit of blood.
It didn't work. The image of a broken, ruined Jason returned to you at the edge of camp burned into your memory. You knew it had been a dream, that he hadn't actually died, but the thought—
"This is stupid." You huffed, voice watery and tight and so incredibly pathetic you half expected Jason to strip you of your title of centurion. It was all so very un-Roman of you. "I'm too old to be crying over bad dreams."
"Hey," Jason murmured, voice gentle, and it worked in combination with his warm hands wrapping over yours to calm the tempest that was raging in your mind enough for you to open your eyes. His handsome face was twisted in concern, in understanding, and the tears welled up in your eyes all the bit faster. "I'd be a wreck, too, if I dreamt that I lost you."
Why can't he just say the words, you lamented bitterly in your mind. Why can't I say them, either?
"I hate crying." You managed to force out after a few beats of silence, broken only by your pitiful sniffles trying to keep the tears from finally falling down your cheeks and staining the pillow you shared with Jason.
"I know," His voice was soothing, gentle, and you let him manipulate your hand until he had your open palm splayed, pressed against his chest, his own covering the back of yours to keep you from pulling away. Not that you ever did anything but crawl impossibly closer to him each day.
You were Jason's and Jason was yours, but never in so many words.
"Feel that?" His quiet question startled you from your mind, the terrible sleep-created images replaying on a loop. Reyna apologizing for not protecting him, the weight of his golden coin pressing heavily into the center of your palm.
You're the only one he would have wanted to have that, Reyna had said in your dream when she handed off the magic weapon. And if something ever really did happen to him, you couldn't help but morbidly think that he really would want you to have it—
"Don't leave me here, now." Jason, real Jason, the one living and breathing and holding your hand against his chest—right over his heart, you realized with the sudden jolt. The beat was steady under the tips of your fingers, and you closed your eyes to focus on the rhythm, to try and match your shallow breaths to his deep and even ones. "There. Welcome back, solider."
"We can't be soldiers right now." You shook your head, eyes still shut but voice almost back to normal. And though you knew Jason didn't understand it, he didn't question.
You couldn't be solders. You couldn't be only little heroes destined to fight and bleed and die at the whim of others, of gods with self-imposed rules keeping them from helping their own children. Being soldiers had been what had ruined your dream, that had sent you racing through the dark to find him. Soldiers weren't lovers. Soldiers didn't hold each other.
Jason was trained to be a soldier. But maybe, with you, he could learn to be other things.
"Thank you," You murmured, voice almost silent as you peaked open your eyes. You had known Jason had moved closer to you, had heard his cheek brushing against the pillow you shared and felt the heat from his skin warm yours, but you hadn't anticipated the blow to your chest you received when you opened your eyes and found him close enough to taste, if you had been born into a braver body.
"After my little stunt on the War Games field with Damien last week? I figured I owed you." He teased, and the absurdity of Jason Grace finding it in himself to make such a casual joke after you had climbed into his bed mid-panic attack had a lopsided grin work its way onto your face.
"Shut up." You wanted to lean forward and press your lips against his skin, but you held back. You always held back, but only when it came to Jason. Most of your bunkmates had vocalized that they wished you had the capacity to control yourself more. "How many times have you kept me out of the brig?"
"Fair point," He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and reminding you that your palm was still pressed against the cotton of his sleep shirt.
As much as it pained you, you slipped your hand out of his, but something took control of you and changed direction. Originally, you had planned on tucking your fist underneath your own chin, cocooning yourself in your own arms and trying to justify staying a little bit longer.
What ended up happening was your hand falling to rest on Jason's cheek, thumb brushing over the pearly white line of his scar. The tips of your fingers tingled, might have even shook, as they touched his lips.
All the humor was sucked from the room with your gentle declaration of such intimacy. Sure, you and Jason had long since passed through each other's barriers of personal space. Neither one of you exactly had nurturing childhoods and found relentless comfort in the other.
Touch starved, someone had once explained it as. Two people making up for lost time and a need to feel loved and held. Jason was the only one you let into your space, and as far as you knew you were the only one Jason wrapped himself around. The thought of him locking pinkies with someone besides you made you queasy and tossed you back into the moment, your palm on his cheek and his eyes on yours.
It was almost too much. You hoped he couldn't hear your heart hammering in your chest, feeling as if it was about to burst with how much you loved him.
You loved everything about him. From his smiles to his dedication and his innocent charm. To the way he fought like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, because it did, and how he let you break the rules in his bed because he knew you better than you could ever hope to know yourself, sometimes.
"I bet it was a wolf bite." You murmured into the quiet, words tumbling past your lips before you could even think of what you were saying.
"Hm?" He must not have expected your words, because he hummed questioningly, sounding half-distracted but your touch lingering on his skin. The idea of distracting Jason Grace made you smile. It felt like an achievement.
"Your scar," You clarified, still tracing it with the pad of your thumb. his skin was warm and soft and it helped ease your remaining nerves to hold him so gently after the gruesome horror show of your nightmare. "I bet it was a wolf bite."
Jason grinned, then. Wide and bright and if you hadn't seen him call down lightning personally, you would have thought Phoebus Apollo was his father from how much blinding sunshine radiated from him, even in the middle of the night, half-asleep.
"If Lupa bit me, I don't think the scar would be so small." He teased, knocking his forehead into yours gently. You snorted, closing your eyes as you leaned closer to him, trying to remain casual as his nose brushed against yours.
"Still, it's a good story." You hummed, shrugged slightly. Jason huffed a laugh, and you felt his breath on your skin, on your lips.
"Yeah, it's a good story." He agreed quietly, his own hand reaching up to hold your face, mimicking your position with a gentleness that made you question if you should ruin the only gentle thing to ever embrace you by slotting your mouth over his, over every inch of his face.
Instead, you moved your hand from his cheek to the back of his head, holding him as close as you could without being greedy.
You knew you'd have to leave soon, or else risk getting caught, and you couldn't do that to Jason.
But you let yourself have a few minutes. You never knew how many you'd ever have with him.
It was peaceful, if only for a moment.
It had only been war, for hours.
Your voice was shredded raw from shouting orders, rallying troops, keeping Romans from turning on Greeks like Octavian had wanted.
It was the final battle, you knew. The air tasted of it, of that heavy weight that came with saving the world. You had felt it when you had gone into battle against Krios to keep the Titans from rising, and you were sick with it, now.
This time, you didn't have Jason by your side, covering your weaknesses while you watched his. You didn't even have Reyna, anymore.
I need you to stay here, Reyna had ordered you when you had argued your case for joining her on her quest to the Ancient Lands after Jason and the others. Your desperation to accompany her went beyond a bone-deep ache to see Jason again; you were going absolutely crazy sitting around at the Roman encampments surrounding the Greek demigod camp, waiting for a battle you were certain shouldn't be taking place.
If I stay here, I'm going to kill Octavian. Or he'll get someone to kill me, you countered, and two weeks earlier you could have played it off as a joke. But Octavian had become drunk on power, had appointed himself to a rank higher than praetor, and was absolutely gunning for a reason to get rid of you, one way or another.
Don't let him, Reyna had said, as if it was ever that simple. I need someone here that I can trust. Jason needs you here, too.
Your frown had deepened, no matter how impossible it had seemed.
That was a low blow, you mumbled, pissed off and exhausted, only getting more pissed off and exhausted by your own shitty attitude.
Reyna had grimaced, but did you the favor of not pointing out that it had worked. You had stayed behind, had remained with your soldiers and dodged Octavian as much as you could, knowing how very weak the leash you held your anger on was. He was looking for any excuse to put you on trial. You couldn't give him one.
But that didn't mean you didn't do everything in your power to undermine Octavian's control.
The fighting that soon followed was inevitable.
You had known from the start that it was either going to be against the Greeks or the monsters, depending on how successful Jason and his new group of friends were. If they got back in time to unify the camps like Annabeth had promised Reyna they would, then the monsters would be feasible to take on.
But Octavian started the war early. Started against the Greeks, then was forced to split forces when the monsters began their assault, too.
The groundwork you had laid against Octavian was almost unnecessary as he doomed the Romans to fight an exhausting and expensive battle they could never win. It had been almost too easy for you to take control, to knock Octavian out with a single punch and order Roman troops to fight alongside the Greeks, to use them as another weapon against the monsters.
Defend their camp as if it is our own!, you had shouted through the roar of battle, perched on the highest point you could find—an upturned chariot. The fighting had paused at your words, Greeks and Romans alike trying to see which way the attacking army would sway.
One girl on the Greek side of the fight gave orders to her soldiers not to attack your Romans, just as the daughter of Ares had promised on the few nights you had snuck into her camp to discuss that very moment.
Clarisse La Rue had been all too willing to talk war with you, double agent against Octavian, you were.
Reyna and Nico arriving with the Athena Parthenos had only sealed the deal, but even with Greek and Roman forces combined the never-ending monster army was a force to be reckoned with. Gaea herself was even pulling you in, feet sucked into the earth to tire you out faster with each step.
By the time the flying trireme arrived, your exhaustion was bone deep and felt like the only substantial thing in your life.
It was a blur, from then on. Fighting still raged. Screams still tore through the air. Battle continued and stole and ached.
Then came the explosion.
One minute you were fighting for your life, prepared to enter into the next one, and then suddenly the world had stilled around you. Whatever monsters weren't falling under the swords and arrows of demigod heroes had turned and ran, and it was almost jarring how silent the battlefield got.
Or maybe you were just too tired to process any sound. You thought you could see Reyna's mouth moving, a few dozen feet in front of you, but all you heard was a low buzzing, the thrumming of your heart, as you searched the carnage.
You weren't sure if the Romans stopped to gawk at you because you were stumbling through the mess or because you were, against all odds, still standing. You had been on the front lines from the start, had led wave after wave of assault.
By all accounts, you should have been lost to the fight. But you never gave up all that easily.
You knew there still were a million and six things that remained to do before darkness fell. First and most important to you was organizing your legion, taking count of who had survived the battle. Mourning walked hand in hand with victory, and you were well acquainted with the pair.
Except, you only made it ten steps before you saw him.
Jason Grace had completely forgotten you. Despite his promises, his sweet words and even sweeter touches, he had forgotten you and all that you meant to him. He didn't know how he used to pinch your arm to keep you awake in your more boring classes. He didn't know that he used to swap plates with you at least once a week because you regretted what the Mess Hall sprites had brought you.
He didn't know how he brushed his hands through your hair when you got worked up, and he didn't remember what the touch of your skin on his felt like.
But he was heading straight towards you, as if the destruction around him could wait and all that mattered was you.
It was enough to root you to your spot. With shaking, brutalized fingers you took off your helmet. You meant to hold it under your arm against your hip, but suddenly Jason was within five feet of you with the most determined stare, and you barely registered it dropping to the ground.
You had counted the days since you had last seen him in Charleston. It had been too long and not long enough, because no matter how much you loved Jason with every inch of your being, it also hurt too great to have him in front of you and know he didn't remember how gently he had once used his thumbs to smooth the worry lines from between your knitted brows.
"Soldier—" You started, desperate to take control of the conversation, but he was speaking over you before you even finished the second syllable.
"It's not a wolf bite." His words were firm, almost pleading. But they were also so unexpected, so out of place, you jolted back half a step. He quickly made up for the space you tried putting between you both, halting only a few scant inches from the exhausted lines of your body.
"What?" You managed to gape, chin tilted to look up at him, face twisted in grief and confusion and hope so dangerous you contemplated the blow to your reputation if you turned and ran.
"The scar. Not a wolf bite." He clarified, and it took nearly everything in you to tear your stare from his to drag down his face and find the beloved mark on the corner of his lips, right where it had been since the moment you had met him. You had felt that bit of raised skin underneath the pad of your thumb more times than what could have been considered as just friendly, had made up stories for its existence just to distract yourself. "When I was two, I tried to eat a stapler."
"Jason," The sound that left your lips could almost have been mistaken for a laugh, if someone only plugged their ears and closed their eyes. It was a haunted, aching, desperate sound, mixed with a short exhale that had Jason leaning even closer to you, somehow.
"I just thought you'd want to know." He murmured, and you weren't sure if the warmth burning your skin was from the exertion of battle, the rays of sun beating against your cheek, or the intensity of Jason's stare on you.
Familiar. He looked... familiar. Maybe a little Greek, but he was still Roman. Still an unwavering force, one that had defeated a Titan and still had enough power to tear down his seat of power in search for your battered body, almost lost to the rubble.
He looked like he knew you.
"You… you remember?" Fingers curled into fists at your side, almost buzzing with emotions you could barely even begin to decipher. Everything was a knot inside of you; thoughts, feelings, strength. You'd given everything on the battlefield, but you had been running on fumes from the moment Jason had been stolen from you. It was nothing short of a miracle that you were still standing.
"I do, now." His nod sent a shuddering gasp through you, but still you couldn't get yourself to lift a hand out and reach him. You had already had this dream—this nightmare—so many times. What happened next would likely be his dismissing you. Or worse—you would wake up.
But Jason moved first, one hand you knew like your own raising to wipe a spot of grime off you cheek before cradling your head gently. It was all the permission you needed before your own hands notched under the sides of his armor, a familiar movement always used to tug him closer to you. Metal clanged together as his chest plate hit against yours, and though you suddenly loathed the equipment that had saved your life more times than you felt you deserved, you couldn't let go of Jason long enough to free yourself from it. That part would have to wait.
"Got hit on the head a few times, talked to a couple of gods. It all helped the pieces fall back together." He explained, and you pressed your knuckles into his sides as a silent reprimand for making fun of himself getting hurt. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision of Jason, and you bit the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted blood. A reprimand for yourself, too. "I'm so sorry."
"It wasn't your fault, Jase." You would have shaken your head, but you didn't want to move out of his hold for a second, and instead pressed your cheek tighter against his palm still holding the side of your jaw.
He looked ready to argue, but you flashed him a glare so fierce he thought better of it. You had been living in anger and fear for months. Having Jason back already helped, but it would take more than a few minutes for you to right yourself.
And you still stood on the battlefield.
"I remember that last argument we had." He knocked you back to reality in the gentle way only he ever knew how to do with you. Out of shame, you ducked your gaze to the ground, but he didn't let you hide. With the hand that wasn't on your jaw, thumb brushing reassuring strokes over your cheek, he held your nearly quivering chin between his index and his thumb. The way he tilted your head up to meet his stare was tender, but that had never been a question when it came to him. "Where I said there was nothing for us to do but be soldiers."
"Yeah," You were pretty sure you were speaking, but you couldn't focus on anything over the sound of your heartbeat roaring in your ears or the beautiful burn of his skin against yours.
"I was wrong." He admitted, but you knew what those words meant just the same as he knew that you would understand. "I remembered fragments of you. The sound of your laugh. How your hair shone in the summer sun."
"Sounds like you might be in love, or something." You tried for teasing but sounded like you had just been hit by a bus. Jason had only been back for a few scarce minutes and already was bulldozing you with his sweet words. If he hadn't just disappeared on you for upwards of seven months and came back to save the world, you would have threatened to kick his ass for disorientating you so much so quickly.
"Oh, I am." He grinned a little nervously, a little lopsided, and you couldn't wait any longer.
You moved first, hands darting from the sides of his armor to the sides of his face, palms flat against his skin as you tugged his head down you meet you while you pushed yourself up on your tip-toes to meet him halfway.
Kissing Jason was as inevitable as it was all-consuming. You had played dumb with Dakota whenever he brought it up, but deep down you had always belonged to Jason Grace, and he to you, from the moment he broke the rules to sit with you in that small, restricted stretch of grass when you were ten years old.
Your fingers knotted into the hair on the back of his head, grown out just enough during his time with the Greeks. You thought it suited him, and it was soft under your touch, and you mentally made a note to plead with him later to leave it alone. From the way he was kissing you like he would starve if he didn't, you had a feeling he'd agree easily.
He was warm and sweet and tasted like mint. He was everything you had imagined, everything you had never once dared to hope for. Strong hands and gentle touches, unyielding intelligence and unwavering kindness.
He was everything. Your everything.
Despite the weight of Jason's mouth on yours, you still were dimly aware of where you stood. The smell of smoke still lingered in the air, and no matter how close you pressed against Jason, you couldn't hide from the fact that you were a centurion and your legion needed you.
You had been left by almost everyone in your life, but never had letting someone go been as painful as it was to step back from Jason long enough to catch your breath and clear the fog from your mind that was a direct reaction to his touch.
"I've got to—" You shuddered, voice catching, but Jason nodded, knowing what you meant. Knowing you, knowing your mind, always. You almost shivered again at the reminder that he remembered. He knew what you were going to say, but you forced yourself to finish your thought so you could convince yourself it was real. "I've got to find my legion. Count survivors. Take stock of injuries. We've been—we've been fighting for hours."
You didn't want to leave him. You never had wanted to before, but after he had been stolen from you for so long? Now that he had confessed his love and kissed you like his life depended on it?
Now you were worried that the next time he left your side, he'd disappear again, no matter how unwillingly he went.
"Okay," Jason smoothed his thumbs across your cheeks, face ducked low towards yours as your hands fell to wrap loosely around his wrists, desperate to hold him in anyway you could. "Okay. We can do that."
"We?" You questioned, then immediately felt stupid for doing so. Of course, he meant we. It had always been the two of you against the world, and he had just gotten his memories of you back. There was no way he would let you out of his sight so soon.
"You told me the day we met that there was no getting rid of you." Jason reminded you, as if you could ever forget meeting him, as if the gods themselves had been able to keep him from remembering you. "I'm holding you to that promise."
Words failed you, but the way you surged forward to press your mouth to his in a quick, urgent kiss that you had dreamed about sharing with him for years, didn't.
"Just for the record, I love you too." You offered an exhausted imitation of a smile as you pulled away, finally dropping your touch from him. Because maybe you had Jason back, but you still weren't sure how many of your soldiers had been lost. Mourning and victory, always a solemn pair.
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but someone called out your name, and the edge of desperation and worry in their voice cut through you like a knife. And Jason remembered you, knew you, and saw everything written on your face.
"We'll figure out this mess together." He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip before nudging your shoulder in the direction the voice had come from. "Lead the way, Centurion."
Your stomach was still in knots, so you pressed your lips into a firm line. But Jason was a warm strength at your back, and he kept his promise of together, and followed you dutifully.
War took and took, but sometimes it gave.
Jason, your Jason, was back. And maybe there were still a million questions to answer, boundaries to fix and homes to rebuild, but you knew Jason would be by your side through it all.
An unwavering force behind your relentless dedication.
War took and took, but things would be okay.
Things would be okay.
a/n: im allergic to sad endings (jk I just can't write them they always feel unfinished when I try) also this took me forever bc I was so incredibly worried that the finale would flop but I kinda love this so im just gonna full send
tag, you're it! @aezuria @tayswiftlovebot @bonnie-tz @folklorefantasies14 @sunshine-of-ur-life @irwinchester @bellamysnatblida @saph-nic @auroraofthesun1 @helloimamistake @maybxlle @p-rspective @lauptimist @dontstopxx @apollosfavkiddo @ebony-reine-vibes @poppysrin @valromanoff @jesuschrist2006 @pariahsparadise @killaari @marshmummy @sofiacblair
#jason grace#jason grace fanfiction#jason grace fanfic#jason grace x you#jason grace x reader#jason grace x y/n#rays of sun#cool about it
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Unwanted: Chapter 29, Unarmed, Redux - Pt. 3
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, manipulation, one last super soldier betrayal.
Word Count: 1.3k
Previously On...: You and Bucky finally have the long-awaited talk.
A/N: Ew, Steve.
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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There was a gentle knock on the hospital room door, and Steve stuck his head in. “Hey,” he said softly. “Tony said you were awake. Is it okay if I come in?”
You shared a quick glance at Bucky, who shrugged. “Sure,” you said.
Steve shuffled into the room and stood awkwardly at the end of your bed. “I’m so glad to see you awake, Pocket. You really had us scared there for a minute.” Steve was using his official Captain voice, which immediately put you on edge. Why?
“Why are you acting weird, Stevie?” Bucky asked, and you were glad he also seemed to sense it.
Steve coughed into his fist. “I was, uh, actually hoping I could speak to Pocket alone for a minute, Buck.”
Bucky looked at you, then made a move to get off the hospital bed, but you held your hand out, stopping him. “No, Buck– stay; we’re not done.” You turned back to Steve. “I’m sorry, Steve, but I’m not ready for him to go just yet.”
“Oh, okay… well, I can come back later…” he began, but his manner was so bizarre, he now had you on your guard.
“I’m sure whatever it is you have to say to me, you can say in front of your best friend, Steve,” you said carefully, taking Bucky’s hand again.
Steve closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “I suppose you’re right, Pocket,” he said after a moment, “considering this concerns him, too.” You and Bucky exchanged a glance, both curious and a little wary of what the captain might have to say.
Steve gripped the bottom railing of your bed, as if relying on it for support. “I owe you both a sincere apology,” he said eventually. “You have to know, it was never my intention for things to go as far as they did; I never meant for you to get hurt, Pocket. You have to believe me.”
You were stunned into silence, not knowing what exactly Steve was referring to, and not sure you wanted to.
Bucky’s eyes widened in realization and he sat up straighter. “You son of a bitch,” he said, catching on to something you obviously hadn’t grasped yet. His entire body tensed up, and he spoke in a tone you’d never heard him use with Steve before– low, and angry. Furious. “I can’t believe you would fucking do that to us. To me. After everything.”
Steve looked down, refusing to meet Bucky’s eye, and you saw his cheeks redden with embarrassment. And shame.
“Uh, maybe it’s the after effects of the anesthesia, or the extensive blood loss, or all the recent head trauma, but, uh, I am not following,” you said, looking between both men. Bucky was staring daggers at Steve now. “What am I missing? What are you apologizing for, Steve?”
Bucky’s jaw was hard, and you could practically feel him grinding his teeth next to you. “You wanna tell her, Rogers, or should I?”
Steve swallowed, then eventually looked back up at you. “I was the one who approved Jade for the Russia mission. I… I made sure that she didn’t get on the Quinjet until it was too late for Bucky to get her off, so that he’d have to take her along.”
“What?!” you practically shouted. “Steve, why would you do that? You saw what happened to Rhodey because of her! Why would you put Bucky in danger like that?!”
“The same reason he put her in the room next door to me, doll,” Bucky said. “And the same reason he insisted I’d be the one to train her, even though I begged him to do it when she started becoming a problem.”
You frowned, not sure what to make of what Bucky was saying. Surely Steve wouldn’t… he couldn’t…
“I didn’t make you do anything, Bucky,” Steve said softly. “I just… manufactured some circumstances. You made your own choices.”
Things were slowly clicking into place for you. “Hold up,” you interjected. “Steve, are you saying you deliberately put Jade in Bucky’s path?” You looked at him, waiting for a response, but his silence and avoidance of your eyes was answer enough. “Why would you do that, Steve?” you asked, suspecting you already knew, yet not wanting to believe.
“When Bucky and I were younger,” Steve began, continuing to avoid your gaze, “back in the ‘30s and ‘40s, Bucky never stayed with one girl for very long. Didn’t want to settle down, commit himself.” Steve sighed and you felt Bucky tense up beside you. “He never meant to break anyone’s heart, but it still happened, all the same. When the two of you got together, I knew it was only going to be a matter of time… before he got… bored, and moved on.”
“Now listen here, you fucking punk,” Bucky began, moving to stand. You put a hand on his thigh, urging him to stay seated.
“Let him talk, Buck,” you said calmly, much more calmly than you actually felt. “I want to hear what he has to say.”
The look Bucky gave you was pained, as though he was terrified you were buying into Steve’s excuses. Steve seemed to think so, as well, because he continued, seemingly emboldened: “I couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt like that,” he went on. “I thought it would be better, for the both of you, if you realized it sooner, rather than later, when you’d both gotten in too deep, that it just wasn’t meant to work out between you.”
You gaped at him, speechless, while Bucky clenched and unclenched his fists beside you.
“When you got shot, Pocket, when I saw how Bucky reacted to the idea of losing you, I… I realized his feelings for you were the real thing, that I never should have meddled. Not only did I help set you up for needless heartbreak, but I put you in danger. And I’m sorry.”
“You’re full of shit,” Bucky said, standing up now. He walked over to Steve, poking him in the chest. “You can pretend you were doing it out of the goodness of your heart all you want, but I know better. I know you. What was your endgame, huh? Swoop in and play the white knight? Be a shoulder for Pocket to cry on until she was vulnerable enough to give into you?”
Steve swallowed thickly, and you could hear the unspoken answer in it. Yes.
“I never meant for you to get hurt,” Steve said, looking to you with pleading eyes. “You have to believe me.”
“You have no idea what you’ve done!” Bucky shouted at Steve. “What you cost her, us!” He shoved Steve backward with both hands, and Steve took it. “She almost died– twice! She got shot, she lost our baby, all because of shit you helped put in motion! I don’t know how I can ever forgive you, man!”
“You’re not innocent in this, Bucky–” Steve began, and then realization overcame him. “Wait– what do you mean, ‘lost your baby?’” He looked to you. “Pocket, you were pregnant? Bucky was the father?”
This was too much. “Get out, Steve,” you said quietly, with no emotion in your voice.
“Pocket, I–” Steve tried, but you interrupted him.
“I said ‘get out,’” you reiterated. “You may be my captain, but you and I? We can’t ever be friends again. Not after something like this.”
Steve looked distraught. “But you can forgive him?” he asked, jerking a thumb toward Bucky. “He fucked her, and you’re gonna let that slide?”
“Language, Steve,” you said mechanically, almost as if automated. “And whether or not I forgive Bucky is none of your business. All you need to concern yourself with is that I don’t forgive you. Now, please; get out. I can’t stand to look at you.”
“Pocket, please–” Steve tried one last time, but Bucky started backing him up toward the door.
“She said ‘out,’ Rogers.” Bucky said, holding the door open. “And if you don’t want me wiping the floor with your ass, I suggest you do as she asks.”
With a final, forlorn look in your direction, Steve Rogers turned and exited the hospital room.
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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Visiting Fulworth
Today @jeremys-come-to-bed-eyes and I went on something that I might have been classified as a "research trip" for The Beekeepers Picnic, if it had happened a few years ago! As it is, there's no hiding that it was just a geeky fan trip.
I didn't invent the idea of Holmes retiring to keep bees in a village called Fulworth - it gets alluded to a few times in the stories, and there is one story set there, 'The Lion's Mane'.
We know Holmes' retirement home is either a 'cottage' or a 'villa', it's a few miles out of Eastbourne, and it's clearly somewhere where it's possible to walk to the sea for a swim. Sherlockian tradition is that the real-life place fitting this description is the village of East Dean.
So, that's where we went - walking from Eastbourne.
This area is famous for it's white chalk cliffs, which are eroding away very quickly. Here is a path to nowhere!
These cliffs are known as the Seven Sisters. They all have names but the only two I remember are Short Bottom and Rough Bottom.
The beach there is all pebbles - I knew that when creating my game, but I felt like a pebble beach just wouldn't look right all in pixels, so I made it sandy instead.
East Dean is absolutely gorgeous, basically everything I could have hoped for.
Here is the village green - flying a Ukrainian flag in solidarity!
And here is Mr Holmes' official cottage. As far as we could tell its now an office of the local estate rather than someone's house, so we didn't feel too weird taking lots of pictures! The Lions Mane implies his cottage is a little way out of the village, but I'll forgive them for putting it in the centre instead.
(I think that the dates are obviously the dates he lived there as recorded by his biographer - our last information on Holmes is from 1917. I think they made the right call not to try to invent a date for his death.)
A lot of the cottages in the area have this really distinctive mixture of pebbles and brick which I think must be a hallmark of the local area, but I was pleased to see a few whitewashed buildings like the ones I put in the game:
Thank you for reading, please enjoy this adorable foal.
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Thinking about how Choso eats you out like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get to
warnings: pussy eating, porn without plot kinda, erm I think that’s it. slight dirty talk. half- proofread. just drabbles. enjoy? or don’t. Lemme know if I missed any
He’d come back home from work a little while ago, and seeing you work on something on your laptop, your reading glasses on and hair in a messy bun-
That along with some exhaustion as well as some stress he needed to burn was enough to take you right then and there.
Choso was always a needy man, very clingy and sensitive. And if there was one thing he couldn’t go a day without, it was the sweet, sweet taste of your cunt.
You don’t remember exactly how it happened, but now your sweatpants are off, somewhere on the floor. Along with your panties. He had your legs pinned against your chest tightly, you couldn’t move them even if you really wanted to.
Choso had felt shivers the immediate second he saw your pretty cunt. He couldn’t help but lick a nice stripe up your wetness, groaning at the taste as you involuntarily twitched. And now you were the one shivering.
“Missed you…” he mumbles against your clit, which makes you squirm a bit. He places a kiss on the sensitive bud and your feet wobble in the air, unable to move your legs. “Cho…” you breathe out, already feeling dizzy.
“Mhm, I know. I’ll make you feel good, mm?”
You nod, and maybe it came out a little too eager because he chuckles softly before diving in.
You can’t help the mewl that escapes your lips once he delves his tongue into your wetness. With his nose prodding at your clit, his tongue slides in and out of your sweet cunt, slurping up your juices nonstop. His tongue swirling inside your gummy walls.
Once his teeth graze against your clit, you think you might just lose it.
Your hand flies down to grip onto his hair, eliciting a groan out of himself. He always liked when you grabbed ahold of his hair like this, almost pulling his mouth closer to your pussy. Wanting- no, needing more stimulation. It made him feel like you were in control, even at a time like this.
And come on, we can all agree that Choso enjoys being a bottom at least sometimes.
Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and you try your best to avoid looking directly at him. Because he’s just staring at you. Either that or just closing his eyes, enjoying the taste. His meal, per say.
You couldn’t ever look him straight in the eyes, it was still embarrassing even after all this time.
Your legs were squirming and wobbling, shaking from the pure pleasure. It was overwhelming. Like you were about to explode.
“Ch-Cho- f-fuck… fuck!”
Choso smiled against your cunt almost every time you’d murmur curses or his name, or both.
He had moved to sucking directly at your clit and you felt tears prick at your eyes. It was all beginning to be just a little too much. But in a good way?
He sucks hard, gripping tighter on your thighs in your attempt to get away.
Your breaths got shallower and more rapid, head thrashing from left to right on your pillow beneath you.
“Fu-uck!” You practically scream. Thank god you didn’t have thin walls.
Your grip on his hair had tightened significantly, beginning to subtly ride his face, embarrassed you might come off as too eager or needy. But Choso thought it was hot, how you were so desperate to take everything he was giving you, because he was willing to give it over and over, as many times as you wanted.
And besides, the grip you had on his hair was also really hot too. At least to him it was.
“Mmm…” he groans against your clit. “Come on, you can do it. Cum for me, princess.”
And if you had a nickel for every time you came right after him saying ‘princess’ to you, you’d probably have at least a dollar. And it was about to be a dollar and five cents.
You couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut, forcing the small tears from out of your eyes as you let out an almost pornographic scream. And I mean scream. You were almost certain you were seeing the pearly white gates of heaven, a place only Choso Kamo’s mouth could take you, before you were cumming all over his tongue. He wasted absolutely zero time as he slurped it all up so eagerly. You were twitching and jerking your hips wildly. Because damn did you cum easily when it was him.
Your grip on his hair had slowly loosened as you came down from your high.
But Choso kept lapping at your folds eagerly, causing the little bit of sanity left in your head to vanish. You had to pry his head away to get him to stop, he was just so addicted.
“Cho… please… I- can’t…”
Once his head finally lifted up from your cunt, and you couldn’t help but blush once you saw his face. Completely drenched in your slick from his nose down to his chin.
“Choso… you’re…”
You couldn’t even get out a full sentence at this point, partly from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and partly from the view of your slick all over his face. It was almost embarrassing, but- and you’d never admit this to yourself or him- it was kinda kinky.
He licks his lips and you feel your cunt squeeze around nothing. Around what you half wish was his mouth. Still slurping and swirling inside and around your pretty-
“I’ll run a bath.” Choso interrupted your thoughts.
“Y-yeah. That- uh… yeah.”
He chuckles, standing up, using his fingers to wipe the slick off his face. You almost moan as you see him then lick the slick off of his fingers. You can see a quite prominent wet spot on his jeans, but you don’t say anything about it. He walks into the bathroom, and you start to giggle once you hear the bath water turn on.
He comes back out a moment later, his pants off and underwear assumingly changed, in his boxers and nothing else. There is a bulge in his boxers, and you flush a little again.
He crawls up the bed towards your face, and kisses you softly, and you can’t help but moan as you taste yourself on his tongue.
Choso snuggles up next to you, resting his head on your chest, drawing little shapes into your semi- sensitive thighs and stomach.
After a couple minutes he murmurs into your ear, sitting up. “Baths ready.”
#jjk smut#jujutsu Kaiden smut#Choso smut#Choso jjk#Choso jjk smut#jjk Choso#Choso kamo smut#erm idk#just a Drabble#Choso#Choso kamo#Jujutsu kaisen smut
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Typical Day for a Mall Cop
My name's Bill, and I've been a guard at the mall for almost a decade now. It wasn't my dream job, but life has a way of creeping up on you with kids and a mortgage. I needed something to pay the bills, and I've always had a knack for watching over people.
Like any other weekend, the mall is fairly busy, so I stay on my feet and patrol the halls for most of the day. Occasionally, I'll check in with the other mall cop, but my time is mostly filled with watching shoppers come and go. If anybody gets too rowdy, a stern look is enough to keep them in line.
A lot of the time, teenagers will loiter in stores. Some of them even try and bring their skateboards in, but it isn't too hard to make them adhere to the mall's strict policies. They might be young and clueless, but that doesn't mean I'll cut them any breaks.
Over by the fountain, I see one of the boys I admonished a week ago. I think I caught him shoplifting or something. Thieves normally get banned from the mall, but I didn't do that with this one. He said something that completely caught me off guard; he said he could hypnotize me.
I laughed in his face.
Amused inwardly by the boy's foolish claim, I walk over to check in with him. I'm sure he'll remember the security guard that almost kicked him out of the mall last weekend.
The kid is chatting with his friends, but they fall quiet when they notice me looming behind them. Like we'd discussed last week, I drop to my knees and kneel in front of the troublemaker. He explained that this is the best thing for me to do when I see him around, and I can't help but agree. I know the boy deserves my respect.
I plant a kiss on both of his sneakers, and then wait for him to speak first. It takes a minute because he and his friends are busy cracking up over some unspoken joke. Whatever it is, clearly went right over my head.
"How you doin', mall pig?" the boy laughs.
I smirk at the nickname he's given me. We've gotten in the habit of calling each other by these pseudonyms, and I don't mind it.
"Very good, sir," I answer, using the name I've come to associate him with, "How are you?"
"Fine, I guess," he shrugs, "I spent your cash on kicks for my crew."
That reminds me of last week again. The boy had made it seem like a good idea to give him all the money I had, which included the paycheck I'd earned for last pay period. On the ground, I had a close view of all the vibrant sneakers the teenagers were wearing. It was nice to know he'd put my gift to good use, even if my wife had been pissed that I'd come home without my month's salary.
"You have another check for me, fat ass?"
His friends laugh at his new nickname for me, but I shake my head and answer a solemn, "No, sir."
The teenager groans and leads his gang of friends away, already bored with me. It seems like he's just going to leave me there, kneeling in the middle of the mall, until he turns and beckons me to follow. Inwardly, I'm glad that he's not done with me yet. I've come to enjoy our interactions a lot.
I follow the boys, crawling behind them all the way into a bathroom.
"If you ain't got any cash to keep me and my crew entertained, then you're gonna have to do something to make us laugh," he explains.
"Of course, sir!" I smile, trying to express how willing I am to impress him and his friends.
"We'd find it hilarious if you dunked your head in each toilet," he adds blandly.
I light up. He's just explained how I can be of service and now all I have to do is follow through. I'm sure it'd be hilarious for them to watch a fully grown security guard giving himself a few swirlies. That's peak comedy!
"Watch this, sir!" I laugh, crawling over to the first toilet and shoving my face into the water without any hesitation.
I know the guy that's supposed to clean these bathrooms, and it's obvious he slacks off because there are skid marks all over. I try not to think about it as my cheeks and forehead brush against the bottom of the bowl. When I pull my face out of the flushing toilet, my ears pop and hear a roar of laughter behind me. The kids find it hilarious, which only fuels my desire to keep going.
With a gaping grin, I shuffle over to the next stall and repeat. There are six toilets in the men's restroom. Some are cleaner than others. The last one is a clogged mess, and the boys find it hilarious when I come up with toilet paper plastered to my face. I laugh through it all, even if the urge to puke is growing.
By the time I'm done, I'm soaked in toilet water, and the teenagers are in tears.
"Alright, toilet guy. That was disgusting," the leader of the pack chuckles, grimacing in my direction, "You have a car or something?"
"Yes, sir. I've got a minivan in the parking lot."
"A minivan?" he seems disappointed, "Hand over the keys anyway. We wanna drive around."
"You got it, sir," I say, fishing the fob out of my damp pockets.
He swipes the keys out of my hand eagerly and turns to leave the bathroom. I start to follow the boys out, but he stops me.
"Why don't you stay in here 'till you dry off," he snorts, "You can spend that time in the corner, thinking about what you can do for me next time I'm at the mall."
"Yes, sir," answer, and the boys leave.
Briefly, the thought of getting back to work crosses my mind. I really should be out there keeping an eye on the vendors and their merchandise, but that goes away. Like suggested, I stare at the dirty tile wall and begin to brainstorm what I can do for the boy the next time I see him.
My walkie goes off now and then with the voice of my coworker wondering where I am, but I ignore it.
After an hour or so, I've dripped mostly dry, but a strong stink still lingers around my head. Still, I've come up with a few different things I could have ready next week. It'll take some overtime to make extra cash for the boy. My wife won't be happy about that, but it'll give me a chance to actually have cash ready for him when he asks for it.
The only other thing I have to offer is the perks of my job. Maybe his friends and him would like a tour of the security office? I'd give them free reign of everything in the confiscated bin.
Speaking of my job, I should probably get back. My partner is probably angry at me for not answering the radio. He'll be happy when I tell him I'll take the late shift for the next few days. Hopefully he won't say anything about the smell. God, it's awful!
Just another day working as a mall cop!
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Mrs Hangman
Jake Seresin and his wife have an incredibly healthy sex life. That's how they find themselves role-playing as strangers in a bar, meeting for the first time.
Warnings: porn without plot, allusion to cheating (but not cheating), role-playing (married couple pretending to be strangers), oral (male!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), hickies, p in v, unprotected, not beta read
2k
She was in her prettiest dress, one her husband had bought her for their fifth anniversary. It hugged her in all of the right places, the colour complimenting all of her features in the most perfect way.
If there was something her husband knew, it was what she'd look good in.
She sipped on her drink, some sort of expensive martini, as she looked atthe men sat around her in the bar. But none of them were what she was looking for.
Until a man in a casual shirt, a pair of jeans and dog tags around his neck walked up to her. "Hey there, Georgeous," he said, gesturing to the bartender to get him another drink.
She sipped at her martini as she looked at him. "Can I help you?" She asked, trying to sound unimpressed. But she couldn’t hide that she was impressed. A pretty face and, God, that voice. He was so tall, and the way his shirt hugged his arms.
"You can," he said, sitting down beside her. "By letting me buy you a drink."
She threw her drink back, swallowing the rest of the liquid and placing her martini glass on the bar top. "Sure," she said, her manicured finger moving around the rim of the glass.
He ordered her another martini. "I'm Jake," he said, holding out his hand. She took it and shook, offering her his own name.
When she pushed her hair behind her ear, she revealed her pretty, dangling silver earrings. "I like these," he said, gently touching them.
"Thanks," she replied, wearing a sultry smile. My husband bought them for me. But she didn’t say that last bit. That would have shattered the illusion.
"Look," Jake said as the drinks were put down in front of them. "I know you're not here it sit around and look pretty," he said, voice full of confidence.
She hummed as she wiped the lipstick stain from her new drink. "You're right, Jake. I'm not just here to sit around and looked pretty." She leaned closer, pressing her red lips against his ear. "I'm here to get fucked like a whore."
The way he kissed her after that. It stole all of the breath from her lungs and certainly messed up her lipstick. But she didn’t much care as she wrapped her hands around his neck, his own hands coming to mess up her hair.
It was hot and heavy, and she wanted more.
But she pulled away and swiped her thumb over his bottom lip. "Let me go and fix myself up," she whispered and pecked his cheek.
Jake sat by the bar as she grabbed her purse and walked over to the bathroom. While she was in there, Jake finished his only drink for the night. She touched up her lipstick and did what she could with her hair.
Checking herself over one last time, she made her way back to Jake. Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked back over to the bar.
Jake couldn't deny that she looked gorgeous. But then she wrapped her fingers around the chain attached to his dog tags and, fuck, he'd never been so hard in his life. He stood up when she lightly tugged, and walked out of the bar, him following her like a dog on a leash.
He didn't need to tell her that he was staying in a hotel. She followed him through the lobby and into the elevator, letting him press the button for his floor.
If there were cameras in the elevator, they didn't much care. They were all over each other. His fingers dragged the bottom of her skirts up, not quite exposing anything just yet.
The elevator doors slid open and he pulled her down the corridor to his hotel room. The minute he had her inside, she was against the shut door, his lips attached to her neck. The little noises she was letting out were music to his ears.
He groaned, his body pressed against her own. She could feel him, hard through his jeans, pressing against his neck. It had her reaching down to cup him through the denim.
Jake pulled his lips away from her neck, throwing his head back in a groan. He temporarily released his hold on her and she sank to her knees, working on unbuttoning his jeans.
She freed Jake from his jeans and wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock. His fingers wrapped around her hair, not pulling as she moved herself forward and pressed a kiss to his cock.
She pulled back and looked at her handiwork. The lipstick stain on his cock; it was so fucking pretty.
"You little devil," Jake said through a groan, lightly tugging at her hair in a way that had her groaning, bottom lip pulled between her teeth.
This time, she wrapped her lips around his cock. She sucked at the tip, tongue swirling. He threw his head back, eyes closed as he let groans escape his lips. She hummed against him, and the feeling was like no other.
She took all of him into her mouth, breathing through her nose as she went as far as she could. Her eyes watered as she held him there for a moment, trying to get herself back under control.
As soon as she had her breathing under control, she began moving. She moved her lips up and down his cock bobbing her head. Jake tried to keep his hips still, he really did, but it was harder than it sounded.
He slowly bucked his hips. It was so small, likely he wasn't even aware that he was doing it. But, when she gagged, he stopped and pulled himself out of her mouth. "Sorry, gorgeous," he said and took her hand to pull her to her feet.
Jake swiped his thumb under her lip, gathering up the mess of lipstick, matching her movements from her bar. "My turn," he said and picked her up.
Her legs wrapped around his mid section as he carried her over to the bed. His muscles rippled under her fingers as she dragged her nails over his clothed back.
He deposited her on the bed and pushed the skirts of her pretty dressed. "No underwear?" He asked, his fingers touching her thighs. "You really were looking to get fucked like a whore, weren't you?"
She covered her face in embarrassment, but Jake pulled her hands away. "It's okay, Gorgeous," he said. "I got you."
He pulled her up and unzipped the back of her dressed. Jake took a minute to feel the material, the satin under his fingertips. He pulled it down over her hips and discarded it on the floor.
There was some level of power imbalance as he stood over her, completely dressed while she laid on the hotel sheets, wearing nothing.
She let out a whine as his thumbs touched the underside of her breasts. He circled his thumb around her nipples and let his gentle touch moved her down stomach.
His touch to her thighs were soft as he parted them and climbed between them. The feel of his lips against the skin of her thighs had her locking her legs around his head, pulling him close.
He kissed her lips and ran his tongue through her folds. She cried out as he looked at her, looked at the way she used her handle to muffle her sounds.
He wrapped his arms around her thighs and dove in, nose brushing her clit as he moved his tongue against her hole. She thrashed about, tossing her head from side to side as she cried his name again and again and again.
His hands gripped her, bound to leave a mark. The thought had him smiling against her cunt. Her legs shook against his head and, when she began babbling out something close to 'I'm coming' left her lips, Jake pulled away.
She released him, giving him a moment to shed his clothes. But, while she watched him get undressed, watched him reveal the expanse of muscle that made his body, she couldn't help but miss the feel of him, warm against her.
But, before too long, he was back on top of her, connecting his lips to her own in a rushed, feverish kiss. She ran her nails down his back as he kissed her, his hips rolling against hers.
She tugged on his hair, pulling him back. "Fuck me," she said breathlessly.
That was all Jake needed. Her head his cock and he moved forward, slowly and gently pushing through her folds. A gasp left her lips, her nails stilling against him.
He buried his face against her neck as he began moving against her. His grip on her tight as he moved his body against her own. It was slow and gentle and sweet.
But it didn't stay that way. Before too long, Jakes hips were snapping against her own, holding her thighs around his waist to keep her close. It was animalistic the way he was fucking her, his lips feverishly kissing the skin of her neck.
She cried out, a continuous string of babbling. Jake had never heard such pretty noises in his life. If he could have played them over and over again, he would have. And that high pitched whine when she came around him, cunt squeezing him.
His jaw was tight as he slowed his pace, hips rolling against her own as he chased after his own high. And, when he came, painting her insides with his cum, she left those deep scratch marks in his back, ones she'd wear with pride.
Jake collapsed beside her. He was breathless as he touched her stomach, fingertips soft. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said and sat up.
She climbed off the bed with him and sat with him while they waited for the bath to fill. "We should do this again sometime," she said, taking out her earrings.
When the bath was full, she climbed in, and Jake sat beside her. He cleaned the sweat from her body, cleaned the mess from between her thighs. He rubbed warm water and soap over the marks he had left on her skin.
As soon as they were clean and dry, they climbed under the covers, tangling their body's together. Jake wrapped his arms around her and she laid her head on his chest, exhaustion taking over.
***
Somebody was shaking his shoulder. "Jake, honey," she said, trying to waking him up. "C'mon, we got to go."
He groaned and rolled over, pulling her closer. "Another hour, please," he grumbled, touching her head with his lips.
"No, baby. We've got to and pick up the kids."
Jake finally opened his eyes. He sat up and looked at his wife. "Fine," he said through a groan and picked her dress up from the floor. The dress he had bought for her on their anniversary, along with those pretty earrings.
"Was last night fun?" He asked as he began getting dressed.
She nodded her head, reaching up to touch her hickies. "I like pretending you're some hot stranger in a bar," she said and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Jake kissed his wife's lips. "How about you let your hot husband take you home?"
She let out a laugh and kissed him again. "We've got to pick up those little terrors from your parents house," she said and poked him in the chest. "They get it from you, you know?"
"And that's why I'm so damn proud of them." He kissed her hand and led her out of the hotel room.
#jake seresin#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin smut#jake seresin x reader smut#jake seresin x you#jake hangman seresin#hangman#hangman imagine#hangman x reader#hangman smut#hangman x you#hangman x reader smut#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun hangman
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jason todd || stake outs, they never really... work
i.e. jason peter todd brain rot hit my brain in the middle of the night when i had an assignment to complete (the assignment was never completed) with this song on REPEAT.
warning: this fic was an oc insert, the only thing changed was the name (or lack of... i suppose) !!!
afab!reader, she/her reader, reader has unnamed boyfriend, reader cheats on said unnamed boyfriend, a lot of f bombs, this is unfinished, stops just when they bouta...
“I didn’t know your eyes were so green,” she mumbled, almost incoherently as her nail graced his cheekbone like it never left, “Like… Deep green.”
Jason doesn’t need a mirror to know his ears are already doing the thing where they’re all flushed, he can feel in the way his breaths stop at that point in his throat, feel it in the way his heart starts stuttering against her hand on his chest. Fuck.
He fidgets underneath her, hands flat on the floor of his van as he tries to sit up, “They’re not— Well sometimes they are… Just… Could you get off me? ... Please?”
Her eyes flicker (and God he wished he didn’t notice the way they wander his body to his lips) before her hand leaves his chest, her nail stopping its movements, and she's sat with her knees to her chin. With a groan, she rests her chin on her knees, quickly replacing it with their forehead when she groans even louder.
Jason chuckles, glad to have his space again but somehow missing the flush of his ears. Fuck. His stupid revived brain cannot be doing this right now. Not on a stake out, not on a stake out with his best friend, not on a stake out with his best friend who just so happens to have a boyfriend of a couple months— Yeah… That’s fucked.
A silence wafts through them, and they both wonder if the other can tell there’s something more in the silence than just that, than just silence.
She shivers at the very thought, shuffling away to one of the computers of the van. Jason stills, finding the back of the van suddenly extremely comfortable as he watches her hands type away. He watches her every move, the way only the slightest movement of her hair falling to her face would irk her off and she’d tuck it back into the back of her ear just as quick as it moved, the way her bottom lips insides were bitten as she examined whatever was on that monitor, the way her eyes flicked from the monitor to Jason— Oh.
“What?” She mumbled. Odd, he realised, she never really mumbled around him before— Not when they were kids, teens, after his revival, not after anything. She was always so…. Snarky.
He clears his throat in hopes it’d clear his mind too, “Nothing, nothing—” he curses at his awkward responses, he was never like this around her before either— “Just lost in thought.”
She nodded, understanding as always, quiet as never.
“Jason…” his heart jumped to his throat at the sound of her voice merely uttering the two syllables that made up his name, “Do you wanna pass some time with me?”
His mind started rushing and his blood started squeezing around his veins at obscure speeds, down, down, down. He let out his second and hopefully last awkward chuckle, “Like a game of ‘I Spy?’?”
They used to play that all the time back in detention whenever Prof. Duong started nodding off to dream lands far far away from that dumb school for the troubled. But Jason guessed they weren’t back at detention, guessed they weren’t really kids anymore when she started to inch closer to him than ever.
He tried his best to look everywhere but her, in hopes his hands didn’t jump at the chance to grab her waist and just have her as near as possible— But of course, as always, he failed. And all of a sudden his eyes couldn’t leave the two piercings that sat symmetrically on her bottom lip— and his thoughts couldn’t leave the mere feel of them against his lips alone.
“No, birdie wonder,” she made herself at home between his legs, on her knees as she leaned in closer and closer. She hadn’t changed her perfume since before his death, he realised when she was just a couple of inches away, “Something more… Grown up?”
The only thing keeping him grounded, keeping him from absolutely taking her in with all his soul, was the two necklaces that were clasped onto her neck. His mothers necklace, and a newer one— A silver heart-shaped locket engraved with the lettering ‘K’.
His hand comes up to fiddle with it, “Hm… Do you think ‘K’ would approve of this?”
That stalls her, just for a bit, just for a small stutter of her heart. All until her hands leave his chest— and he starts wishing he never said anything about no stupid ‘K’— and goes behind her neck to unclasp the poor thing.
She slides it to the other side of the van, “Fuck it.”
The very moment she turns around, he knows how those piercings feel against his lips— Right.
His thumb caresses her cheekbone as he leads their kiss down so that she’s on the floor of the van. His knee comes up and slots easily between her legs as he’s met with the surprise that she’s got a piercing in her tongue as well. He shivers down into a small groan against her lips, his other hand sliding up her shirt and tracing the line of her bra.
She whimpers into his lips and he wishes he could let that consume all of him forever, keep that exact moment engraved in his brain as the feeling of her reverberates across his very soul. He wonders if ‘K’’s ever felt that exact same whimper on his lips, and wonders if he even took care of her like Jason could.
His kisses grew hotter yet languid in the way of savouring every moment their lips touched, he starts to kiss down from her lips, down to the expanse of her neck where he held himself back on leaving any mark of some sort, down to her collar bone where he left the smallest of nips that made the smallest of moans leave her shaky lips.
He looks at her through the gaps of his lashes, the way her eyebrows furrowed and her lips trembled at just his teasing knee and a couple nibs and kisses. He grew hot. And bothered. Very bothered.
But before he could do any more than just that he huffs as he spoke out to her, “Are you sure...? Are you so sure this is what you want? ... With me?”
#yvi's brainrot#jason todd#jason peter todd#jason todd x reader#x reader#reader insert#afab reader#she her#original character#oc x canon#i guess#dc universe#dc comics#dc robin#jason todd smut#consent is sexy#first post#edging but in the sense that the work is unfinished#maybe i'll finish it#red hood#red hood x reader#red hood smut#red hood x you#jason todd x you#jason todd fanfiction#red hood fanfiction#dc fanfic#dc fic#like i said... very much unfinished#part of a bigger narrative
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instagram
In case you were wondering: are the campus protests even important? Do they matter? Are they making a difference?
Yes, yes. They are making a difference.
Video description: Bisan, a young Palestinian woman, is speaking directly to the camera. She is wearing a black shirt and a keffiyeh.
Video transcript (I did my best but missed a few words)
I’m 25 years old. I’ve lived my whole life in Gaza Strip. I’ve never felt hope like now. Never. I mean it’s magical feelings running in my veins right now. In my head, I’m in Gaza city, in the north of Gaza Strip rebuilding my city after this genocide has ended. Even started to dream that my friends from Yafa, Haifa (unsure), majdal, are returning to their cities after being displaced for 75 years. These young heroes in universities at America and around the world are stronger than the last occupation in history. And for the first time in our lives as Palestinians, we hear a voice louder than their voices and the sound of their bombs and even stronger than their control in all aspects of our lives.
In the 70s, the occupation, Prime Minister said, after decades of killing Palestinians, stealing the lands, establishing the state of Israel over the lands that “the adults will die, and children will definitely forget.”
Wait. Is that the greatest (unsure) in history? Because it’s children and youth who are leading the movement for a free Palestine. everything they have on the line to demand justice and end of the genocide, and a new era of the world, not based on oppression, exploitation or colonialism.
Do you know what the best part is? demonstrations and calls for boycott in the academic institutions are not limited to a certain people from certain religion, culture, color, religion, race, or maybe economic level. We are all different so we can no longer be accused of anti-Semitism, serving some agendas from outside, we are just different people calling for the same thing. People to people and people to justice.
200 days I’ve spent escaping death every single minute were not in vain. And those 40,000 innocent souls were killed during these days were not also in vain. And this is the first time to feel and tell you this.
Keep going because you are our only hope and we promise we will hold our ground and tell you the truth always. And please, don’t let their violence scare you. In Arabic, we say (Arabic phrase). In English, that means “they don’t have other options, but trying to terrify and silence you” because you are demolishing decades of brainwashing. You are making the change. The real change. Their violence means that we’ve begun to affect them deeply. Believe me, we are in the bottom of this bottle and we’re very very close to the end of this genocide. Maybe even closer than anytime before. Thank you. Thank you for each one of you, because you made us, me and my people feel that we are free. We are heard. We’re going back to our homes, and land.
(Through tears) I have spent the whole night thinking about every video I see, you shouting for Palestine, you protesting for Palestine, you are dancing, singing for Palestine I feel it here in my head that I am going back. And I am free, and one day, we will celebrate it in, in Gaza together. Keep going and we will too. Salaam.
(if anyone can help with my transcript, it would be much appreciated!)
#Palestine#free palestine#wizard bisan#bisan owda#Gaza#columbia university#columbia protest#campus protests#yale university#emory university#video#described video#Instagram
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On the Edge- Chapter 4: Submission
Word count: 2.4K
Summary: You can't take this waiting anymore and you give in to Loki.
Warnings: Degradation, Dom!Loki
A coil of nerves wrenched in your stomach as you pushed the button for Loki’s floor. This was finally it, you couldn’t take this anymore. You didn’t know how this would play out, but you’ve had enough games. Your body physically aches for Loki- his kiss, his touch, his thick cock inside of you. You wanted him to consume you with his lust and power, making you forget who you are.
A lustful haze had overtaken your brain as your hand shakily knocked on his door, and within a moment the door opened slightly. Loki peered down at you, his dark locks falling as he moved his head to the side inquisitively.
“Ok, you win Loki,” you spoke but could barely get the words out. You were so nervous, and you didn’t know why. Your whole body both ached and filled with a thrum of electricity, your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest as you looked into his pale blue eyes.
“So easily?,” he mocked, then paused for a moment and smiled wickedly, his tongue slowly grazing his bottom lip.
“Well by all means,” he opened the door wide, welcoming you into his quarters, where you knew no one but Thor was allowed to enter.
Your nerves were on edge as you tentatively stepped in. His room looked very different from yours and Wanda’s. For one, the ceiling was about 10 feet higher, and there were rich tapestries covering the large windows surrounding his living quarters. You weren’t sure if this architecture was from his magic or he demanded this room to live in.
Loki walked casually to a large leather wingback chair in his living room, sitting down with his legs spread. You could see the buttons on his vest straining on his muscled chest as he shifted. Your eyes drank him in from the hint of collar bone that the unbuttoned shirt revealed, down his lean torso, to his crotch, where a noticeable bulge showed that his cock was already hard and waiting for you. You bit your lip as you took in the sight of him.
“Well darling, I’m all yours,” Loki purred, gently running his hand down his muscular thigh.
You followed his lead and closed his door behind you, walking into the large room on shaky legs. You slowly walked up to him, not knowing what to expect next.
“What do I….you…,” you suddenly felt shy, intimidated. He was in control and there was nothing you could do.
“Remove your clothes,” he commanded, looking regal and commanding like a King on his throne.
You slowly removed your shirt and skirt, leaving yourself in just your bra and panties. You felt a chill run all over your body under his scrutinizing gaze. His eyes never moved from your form, his expression getting sterner as his nostrils flared. You could see his jaw tighten, and you knew he was fighting the urge to fuck you senseless right now. The sexual tension was thick in the air, enveloping all of your senses.
“Do you want to use me for your own pleasure?,” he asked. You clenched your thighs together and watched his eyes as he noticed your response to him.
“Yes, please Loki,” you responded, your voice sounding smaller than usual.
“Beg,” he responded, his tone getting darker. You shivered at his tone, the deep voice drowning out the sound of your racing heartbeat pumping in your ears.
This was it. All that the last month had been leading up to. Loki desired you, wanted you, and prevented you from coming just so that you would have to come begging. Pleading for his cock inside you to release you.
“Loki, I’m begging you, please…”, you nearly cried, the tension almost overwhelming.
“On your knees,” Loki pointed to the floor in front of him.
Your knees were on the ground in an instant, as you tried to contain your urge to climb onto his lap. He leaned forward, his dark curls curtaining around his face as he intensely looked into your eyes.
He kissed you, gentle at first. You tried to go slow, but your urgent need made you kiss him faster, brushing your tongue against his lips.
“Slower,” Loki broke the kiss and commanded with a warning in his eye.
You knew he was trying hard to restrain himself too as he continued your kiss. He pushed his tongue for entrance, and yours responded slower this time, gently massaging and exploring each other’s mouths. Your hand moved on its own to his hair, pulling him as close to you as you could. Loki leaned back and broke the kiss again, a knowing smile on his lips as he looked down at you.
His large hand slowly reached down to his pants zipper, pulling it down while you watched intently. He pulled his cock out and you felt yourself gasp as you saw it. Perfectly long, large, and rock hard. The lust pumped through his veins, and you saw the sparkle of his tip glisten. His cock was everything you had hoped for and more.
Loki began to pump his length slowly, deliberately. Your mouth watered as he pulled his foreskin down more, revealing a dark red head that begged for you to suck on it. You wanted nothing more than to swirl your tongue around it, suck it and feel him come down your throat.
“You are so beautiful. A little godslut all for me,” Loki darkly teased as he pumped himself slowly in his palm, making you watch. You whined and squirmed, watching him give himself pleasure. He just loved torturing you, dragging this out as long as he could. This tension was excruciating, and you didn't know how much longer you could take it.
“Do you want this? To be penetrated by my godly cock?” he asked, his breathing getting faster as he continued to languidly jerk himself off.
“Yes,” you nodded quickly, nudging yourself closer to him. The soft fabric of his pants leg tickled your nipple, making you clench again.
“Beg,” he ordered, his hand tightening his grip on his rigid length as he continued his motions, clearly getting off at dominating you.
“Please Loki,” you whined, feeling yourself at complete submission to him. In this moment, you would literally do anything for him.
With his free hand, Loki pulled you off of your knees and closer to him. In a quick movement he had torn your bra and panties off, making you gasp in surprise. He pulled you onto his lap, your knees on either side of his hips, hovering your aching core just above him. You could feel his breath on your breasts, making you shiver.
“Do you need my cock? Need it buried in your tight cunt?,” Loki panted, his desperation now showing on his face as he looked up at you.
“Yes, Loki, I need you,” you breathily replied, looking in his eyes with as much earnestness as you could muster.
Loki slowly guided you onto his throbbing cock, two of you moaning wantonly in unison at the relief. Your body shuddered as your forehead fell to his, the only sound in the room was the two of you breathing heavily. He was so big, stretching you more than you had ever felt before and yet fitting inside of you perfectly.
“How does that feel?,” he asked, sincerity creeping into his voice as he looked up into your eyes. You felt a blush on your cheek as you couldn’t help but smile at him. He looked so beautiful, his dark hair falling around his perfect face, his expression full of longing.
“So-so- good-”, you could barely speak as you felt your body tremble at the intense fullness you suddenly felt after so long. You were so sensitive, and this felt like heaven. You enjoyed the moment of stillness, the relief of finally having Loki buried deep inside of you.
“I have wanted this as much as you have…craved you…” Loki whispered as he began messily planting kisses on your breasts, while his hands grabbed your backside.
You began rocking back and forth, but Loki held firmly gripped your hips as you squirmed on him, begging for more friction. His hand grasped the back of your head, bringing you in for another kiss. Your lips crashed on each other in a deep, messy, kiss, the two of you not holding back as your fingers found their way into his soft hair again.
His hips began rocking as he slowly fucked into you and you heard yourself whine into his mouth. The feeling was unimaginable, your heightened senses from weeks of torture sending you to another plain of ecstasy.
He wrapped his arm around your back, pulling you tight to him while he went back to licking and sucking on your breasts. Loki deeply grunted as he continued his slow, deliberate thrusts, and you heard yourself moaning his name. You threw your head back as your eyes closed and your hands grasped onto the back of the leather chair while your body trembled with pleasure.
Loki’s clothes created extra friction on your body, the soft fabric and buttons leaving a tingling feeling on your skin. You could already feel the building pressure inside of you, and you knew an orgasm wasn’t far. Every motion of his hip grinding was perfectly timed, hitting your most sensitive spot repeatedly. Loki was intoxicating, his smell and the sound of his sinful moans surrounded you, drawing you into ecstasy as you felt yourself tighten around his length inside of you.
“Oh Pet, I hope you’re ready,” he sucked on your neck, gently biting. A sudden THWACK on your ass startled you.
You yelped at the sharp, exquisite pain that melted with the pleasure of his cock thrusting inside you. You looked in shock down at him, only to see the gentle side that he had briefly shown was gone. The blues of his irises swirled and you swear you saw a sparkle in his eye as a devilish smile spread across his face.
“Are you ready for a God to take his pleasure from you?” he asked with a low, rough grunt as he adjusted his hips and thrust himself harder into you and you squealed. He smacked your ass again, harder than before as he increased his speed, rutting into you.
“Y-y-yes oh god yes Loki!,” you cried out, the pleasure nearly making you cry. Your whole body was on fire, your eyes closed tight again in bliss. You felt your wet cunt clench around him as a wave of heat overcame you and your whole body wracked with a sudden intense orgasm. Bright stars appeared behind your eyelids, and you gasped for breath while your hands gripped the chair.
“Yes! that’s it Pet, give yourself to me!,” Loki commanded as he said in ragged breaths while holding you tightly in place as he fucked into you.Your eyes shot open to look at him through your blissed out haze. A bead of sweat made its way down his flushed cheekbone, his eyes focused on you. Loki’s mouth opened, revealing his perfect lower teeth as he tensed his jaw with animalistic lust. His hair was a disheveled mess, his eyes wild.
Words were gone now, you were here for him to do what he wanted with you- use you, take his pleasure from you. Your naked body writhed on his clothed body underneath, and you could feel the wet fabric of his pants as his hips jutted towards yours.
You felt your body bouncing against his vicious thrusts, the only sound in the room was the sound of your coupling and moans and groans. Your fingers dug into the back of the chair, nails digging into leather as you held on tight through Loki’s intense fucking. His force was brutal, and everything you had needed.
You gasped as you felt an intense tremble through your body as another orgasm overtook you and you squirmed on the god’s lap. Your mind was completely blank, your existence being only to be fucked by Loki. You kept your eyes closed, focused on how your cunt throbbed with overstimulation, the pain mixing with absolute pleasure in pure bliss.
Loki roughly groaned while his hips began to lose their rhythm. He bit into your shoulder while he held you still, ramming himself into you, marking you. Claiming you.
Loki buried his face in your chest, a loud growl erupting from him as he came with one last powerful thrust. His punishing grip didn’t let up as he pushed himself to the hilt, spilling himself inside your wet hot center. Loki moaned as he paused and then he continued to roll his hips, pushing his cock inside you so every last drop of cum filled you inside.
A strangled moan came out of your mouth as you breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath. You were covered in sweat, and so was Loki’s suit. Your hands found his hair again, and you began to softly card your fingers through as the two of you quietly enjoyed the afterglow. He gently kissed your shoulders, taking deep inhales of your skin.
You suddenly felt your body lift, and realized Loki was picking you up. Your arms tightened around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, his cock still inside of you. Dreamily looking up at him, he gave you a soft smile on his flushed face as he carried you. Clothes disappeared from him as he walked the two of you to his grand four poster bed.
You smiled as you felt yourself melt into the soft, silken sheets as he shifted you off of him and onto the bed on your back. He laid next to you, propping himself on one elbow while he gazed at your body.
You didn’t feel as shy when he looked at you now. Loki’s hand gently caressed your stomach, and the two of you continued your quiet moment. His blue eyes were less stormy now- now they were placid like a calm lake.
“You know, I’m glad this happened and everything, but…next time you could just ask me on a date,” you quietly joked.
“I told you earlier- where is the fun in that? I didn’t chase you, I let you come to me. More dramatic that way,” he smirked.
You smiled softly, reaching your fingers up to his face, slowly outlining his perfect jawline with the tips. You realized it didn’t matter how you got here, but that you were here- with Loki, where you belonged.
—---
Previous Chapter
On the Edge Masterlist
Peachyjinx Masterlist
#loki smut#loki x reader#loki series#dom!loki smut#dom!loki x sub!reader#loki fanfic#loki x female reader#loki laufeyson#on the edge
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So i was reading your dad alastor headcanons and i love them!!!!!!🥰🥰 I was going to ask if you could do one for the last battle with adam? How would it go?
The Battle
PLATONIC Papa Alastor x Gn!Child!Reader
TW: Talks about the last battle with Adam.
A/N: Aww thank you Love! As always original idea goes to Anon and @aboyscriminalrecord!
Imma just spout this out but if you want a full blown fic just let me know- BUT
If anything, Alastor keeps you far away from the hotel if he has to. He’s made so many back up plans to make sure you're safe. Even if you can hold your own (thanks to him and Vaggie teaching you), you're still his little fawn and he’d do anything to protect you.
If you were somehow in the crossfire between him and Adam? He's in full protective Papa mode and to make it worse? If you took the hit he took? Oh he’s mad mad. Not at you, even if you accidentally got in the way but if it was more of Adam targeting you? Nothing can hold him back. But he’s immediately disappearing with you in his body as he brings you to get help, he’s running cause he has to run.
And the person he takes you to? Despite their many differences. Is Vox. He’d rather kiss the bottom of Lucifer’s boot than say anything to it about anyone but he trusts Vox with you and he knows Vox can get the right medical help to make you feel better. His ways are old fashioned and he’s as stubborn as a mule but the one thing he knows is ever since Vox was around he’s been more of a help than anything.
After he knows your back to safety with your Uncle Vox and Aunt Velvette (he begrudgingly calls her that), he’s back in the battle and he’s getting a hit on that no good first man for hurting his fawn.
Don’t worry, Vox takes good care of you and keeps Valentino away.
Now if you were hurt by any minor damages and he took the blow like he did in the show, he’s afraid to face you because he doesn’t want you to think he’s a coward. You do cry and yell at him for getting hurt but that’s your papa through and through. He’ll patch up any of your own injuries too even if it was just a scratch.
But to me, Alastor would mostly likely have you hidden away with Rosie as you both get along well enough and that’s your Auntie.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#gn reader#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x you#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor#papa alastor#child reader#platonic
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The Dilemma
Sukuna x Reader
🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮Warnings:: Angst of course, slight mention of sex, manipulation, toxic relationship, spineless reader, etc etc :p
🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮
That feeling you get when you try your hardest to reach out but your efforts go in vain. That feeling you get that rises up from the bottom of your stomach….. traveling up your chest… then to your heart where it festers…. The pain is so unbearable but for some reason you find comfort in it…. It gives you reassurance that you still have some fight in you… still have hope that you can keep the remnants of your relationship from deteriorating. You started off strong at first, you truly did, but now it just feels like you’re in the middle of ocean trying to keep afloat on a wooden plank. You felt useless and overwhelmed.
Looking down at your phone you see that all 6 of your messages were read by Sukuna earlier this morning. Your last message being a ‘Good Morning ❤️’ accompanied by a ‘Read 7:34am’. You knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. You should’ve known this was coming and prevented it but you kept opening your mouth and kept fucking things up. Chuckling to yourself as you put your phone down and continued to paint on your canvas but that feeling again was starting to creep up to your chest, and before you knew it, your eyes began to water while you struggle to keep your hand straight. Who knew drawing a line could be so hard? You try to focus on the painting but your mind keeps going back to the last conversation you guys had 2 days ago.
🝮🝮🝮🝮
“I just think it’s weird how she’s always calling you….. like I understand you guys are friends but really baby? It’s literally 12am… I think that’s a bit much…” you peeped at the clock on the nightstand and noted the time was actually ‘12:40am’. Your voice that once held passion and certainty came out timid, scared that if you said something wrong it would upset him, but even then your efforts go in vain as you see your lover roll his eyes at you and sigh heavily as he began to rub his face with hands exasperatedly.
It’s that feeling again. You feel it bubbling in your stomach as you instantly regret what you just said but it was already too late the moment he opened his mouth and began to invalidate how you feel like usual. It was always the usual to you so much to the point where you started to second guess your own feelings. Your gaze that was on the floor flickered back up to him catching a quick glance at his eyes but the moment you seen the annoyance that flooded his eyes you quickly look away not being able to handle the way it made that feeling in your stomach skyrocket to your chest. “Are you really starting this bullshit again? Really Y/N?”
His questioning lingered in the air for a few seconds until he felt even more annoyed by your silence. “Well you brought it up right? Why you not saying anything? Look at me when I’m talking to you like a normal fucking adult!” The tone of his voice made you snap your eyes up, holding back tears but the stinging feeling it was causing in your eyes wasn’t helping. “Why are you crying? Why-“, stopping mid sentence he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and sighed, “Listen. I’m not going to explain this again. Mei is just a friend. I don’t see you making this a big deal when Yuji or one of the bros call me around this time. Mei is a bro. A. Friend.”
🝮🝮🝮🝮
That’s right. Just a friend. Okay maybe you are toxic….. you make a mental note to not bring that up again but you’re starting to feel it. Starting to feel tired of everything. The no text backs unless he feels like it, how he’s so quiet on the phone and you’re always carrying the conversation, the ‘parallel play’ that you’ve become accustomed to and the fact you didn’t even know it was a thing until you were on Reddit asking strangers were you wrong for wanting to spend time with your boyfriend alone instead of always sharing him with his bros. You will always remember that day but only because of how much his words shattered you.
🝮🝮🝮🝮
“Bro what the fuck! Kill him!” Sukuna was yelling at his monitor fully engaged in the game with his headset on both ears but the volume was still loud that you can hear the giggles of his friends through them. It was the typical people in the PlayStation party; Satoru, Yuji, Suguru, and Utahime. You peeked at him but returned your attention back to your kdrama you were watching on your phone (had to get romance from somewhere right?). You couldn’t help but to start to feel annoyed and a bit angry at the fact that you were supposed to be over his house to spend time with him since he was off from work today. You usually wouldn’t mind this but lately that’s all you guys have been doing and it’s starting to bother you. Come over his house, sit on his bed while he plays the game then fuck.. How Romantic.
Before you went home you spoke about how you felt and how it feels like you were getting the bare minimum since you were the main one who would suggest hanging out or making plans, the main one calling first, the main one trying to make conversation because if you don’t speak he’s more than likely not going to start a conversation…. It’s like you’re just here. You were nervous and felt like you just committed blasphemy for even letting that slip out your lips and apparently he thought the same to because he gave you a look as if you just stabbed him in the chest and you can’t really remember all the things he said but what will forever stick to you was when he said,
“why are you measuring my love with ‘effort’? If you love me and I do give you the bare minimum that should be enough.”
🝮🝮🝮🝮
You didn’t even noticed you stopped painting until you started to sniff realizing that you were crying. You put down your paintbrush and wiped your tears and nose as you picked up your phone to see no notifications from Sukuna as expected but you couldn’t help but to feel a little hope that he would text you. It’s been 2 days since you’ve heard from him and you’re trying really hard not to come off as clingy so you’ve been sticking to texting him and not holding it against him because like he always says he’s a bad texter.
You go on instagram to see that he posted yet another story and you can’t help but to start another turmoil within yourself…..
‘Am I truly asking for too much?’
‘Am I too invested?’
‘Is it too much to ask for a clingy, emotional available boyfriend?’
You sighed as took a picture of the almost finished portrait of Sukuna and posted it on your instagram story before sending it him with a text that follows ‘Almost done! 😊’. You were about to put your phone down until you felt a vibration causing you to look back down at the screen to see him reply ‘❤️’. Suddenly you felt lighter and that nagging feeling went away causing you to feel nothing but relief.
See, he still loves me.
#sukuna x reader#sukuna angst#angst#fanfic#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk angst#jjk sukuna#sukuna#oneshot#toxic relationship#toxic love#yuji itadori#gojo satoru
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I think this shitshow with Toshiro stems from the trend of people INSISTING that interpersonal conflict must be a moral failing. Like I think there's something to be said about how people afford so much less patience to people who are autistic in the "wrong" ways, but also Laios and Toshiro just clash on a fundamental level that has nothing to do with that. Hell, you could read Toshiro as autistic as well. People related to Laios' side of the argument but instead of getting any nuance out of it they started projecting their experiences with ableist people onto Toshiro.
AGREE AGREE AGREE. i think that Fandom Brain gets people very used to thinking of conflicts in terms of "who is the bad guy and who is the good guy", so when they encounter a more nuanced conflict they don't really know what to do. i don't think toshiro is a bad person at all, in his conflict with laios he's just exhausted and starving and has been pushed to the limit and from his perspective, laios doesn't even seem that emotionally affected by the situation. i don't think what he said was right and it was pretty cruel, but i don't think he's a villain or deserves to be permanently hated as a character just bc he fucked up this time lol
also yeah you could definitely read him as autistic, and i think that highlights an issue in the autistic community in general bc like....... a lot of autistic people have conflicting needs which can lead to conflict between them/make them unable to stand being around each other. and it's not because either of them are neurotypical or bad people, they're just incompatible. like autistic people who loudly stim vocally and autistic people who meltdown when they have to be around loud noises, for example. it doesn't mean either of them is bad or not autistic, just that they have conflicting needs
i 100% agree with the last part too. i disliked toshiro at first myself bc i had been (and still do ngl) projecting onto laios hard and the conflict they had reminded me of times when people have been mean or angry at me irl for social blunders i've made unintentionally, or when someone i thought liked me/was my friend turned out to actually hate me. it's a common experience for autistic people and that scene resonates with that! but i think it also helps to take a step back from projecting our own traumatic experiences onto the scene and just look at it objectively. laios isn't perfect either and he's the one who actually starts the physical fight by slapping toshiro (i feel like i don't see many people mention this lol). i feel super bad for him in that scene but he's not a perfect victim and has done things wrong himself too
as an autistic person i've also been in situations where i can relate to toshiro too lol, like where someone is overly physically and emotionally familiar with me when we don't know each other well and i've wanted them to back off but haven't been sure how to say it without hurting their feelings. this kind of conflict is far from just being a "neurotypical vs neurodivergent" thing as a lot of people portray it in the fandom
idk i just wish people would think a little more deeply about the scene and put their own emotions and experiences aside to instead consider the conflict with the added context of the individual characters and their respective cultures + the situation they're in. people don't have to like toshiro but i wish they wouldn't paint him as a villain or make up awful shit about him just to justify their feelings when he isn't even that bad of a dude in canon yknow 😑. also we literally see him at rock bottom struggling and freaking out and i think that's important to remember. in a different context i doubt he would have ever said those things to laios
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A Hazy Shade of Winter (Pt. 2)
PART 1
ship: Angus Tully x fem!OC
warnings: Discussions of loss and grief, descriptions of dissociation.
summary: Carol gears up for her first night at Barton.
word count: 1767
a/n: Thanks so much for all the love on part one! I hope you enjoy this one. More to come soon.
written by @ganymede-princess
Carol’s fingers felt thick and unruly as she dug through her suitcase, scattering her belongings over one of the spare beds that she had designated as the closet. She fumbled with her hairbrush for a moment, the smooth plastic slipped through her fingers and scuttled across the floor. With a rush of loathing, she dove at it and threw it against the wall where it thumped weakly and fell onto the blankets. Underwhelmed by the result and full up with a bone deep weariness, she stooped over the bed and rested her weight on her open palms, trembling at the elbows. As she caught sight of herself in the hand mirror that laid at the bottom of her case, a stray tear slapped against the surface of her glasses, casting a wobbling splotch across her vision. Perhaps that was how the old man saw through his bad eye. Something must have gone wrong in the womb, she thought; some pressure that misshaped it. Maybe it was the same pressure that popped the connection in her brain that would have allowed her hands to work in tandem with her eyes.
She took off her glasses and set them aside, laying back on the prison mattress with her hand mirror above her. She watched herself with vision slightly blurred without her glasses, but still in focus. The face staring back was familiar, but she felt no ownership of it. Half hidden under the shag haircut she chose on her last out-day to Portland, streaked with tears, flushed at the extremities, hollow brown eyes glaring in defiance to the brokenness inside. It was the way she should look, but it wasn’t her. It was too pretty and too human. These days she was a fractionation, barely managing to act like a fully formed person in front of those boys. Grief clouded around her like moths, eating up her brain like a forgotten overcoat and tying the loose strings around the back of her tongue to stifle her speech. Jason had made her feel something like her old self for a few precious minutes, then Angus paid her the favour of shoving that part of her back into the box. Perhaps she should thank him. After all, she was closest to Elias this way.
A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She pushed herself up and took a shivering breath, and spoke in a voice that grated in her throat.
“I-it’s open.”
In waddled Mr Hunham, his unfocussed eyes clouded with pity. He adjusted his bowtie, then let his hands rest awkwardly by his round body, like a little brown penguin.
“Hello, Carol.” His smile was stilted, and overly toothy.
“Hi, um… Mr Hunham.”
“Please.” He hesitantly stepped toward her. “We’re in private. Just call me Paul.”
“Oh.” She paused. “U-uncle Paul?”
His eyes widened, and for a moment Carol thought he must be horrified at the suggestion, but soon he clasped his hands in front of him and smiled more genuinely than before.
“Sure. Uncle Paul.”
He just stood there for a long, awkward moment.
“Can-” She cleared her throat, willing the warble in her voice to still. “Can I help you?” She bit the inside of her cheek as punishment for stumbling on her words.
“Ah. Well, I was just seeing how you’re holding up.”
“I’m fine.” Her hand moved against her will to wipe a stray tear that tickled her cheek.
“You’re crying!” He hurried over, already wild as a bull. “If one of those reprobates said something to-”
“No!” She said, though her ribs still stung as though Angus had punched her right in the spleen. “No, nothing like that. I-I’m just… thinking about… Eli.”
“Ah.” Tentatively, he lowered himself onto the end of the bed. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through-”
“Please.” She put her hand up to absolve him, not sure if she would handle hearing any more sorries. “You don’t need to say anything.”
“Oh.”
They sat in silence for a while. Carol contemplated apologising, though she was not sure for what, so she stayed silent.
“I can’t imagine what you must be going through,” He repeated, eyeing her dubiously. “But I may know someone who can. After dinner tonight- if you want to, that is- I’d like to introduce you to Mary, our head of catering. She lost her son.”
“Oh.” She pinched her forearm, avoiding his line of sight as guilt chewed her up. “Sorry. I-I thought you were going to say… I don’t know, um-”
“I know what you meant.” Paul said gently.
“Hm.” She wiped at her face and finally met his cross-eyed gaze, darting her eyes between each of his before settling on the one that focussed on her. “Losing a child must be the hardest thing in the world.”
“I would imagine so.” He sighed. Hesitantly, he reached out to her and let his hand rest on her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Carol. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the opportunity to entertain a guest, let alone family. Now, I know the circumstances are not ideal, and that we said we’d be staying in Boston, but-” He let out a frustrated huff. “I’ve been unfairly targeted by my pompous asshat of a superior, so we’ll just have to play the hand we’ve been dealt.”
“I don’t mind.” She said, minding it very much. “I’m not sure now is the right time for Boston.”
“I understand.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze and stood up to leave.
“Uncle Paul?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Thank you, for-”
Paul bolted upright like a meerkat as a loud thud came from the boys’ rooms, followed by the squeaking and shuffling of rubber soles on linoleum and the unmistakable grunting of two teenage boys locked in battle. He cast a wide eyed glance at her, stuttered an apology and dashed away. Carol sighed, gathering her strength and her glasses, and followed. She kept her distance as she approached, holding her arms around her waist in the old familiar protective stance.
“They weren’t fighting!” She heard Alex exclaim unconvincingly.
Peering past the younger boys she caught sight of Angus, his back pressed to the wall like a caged animal. He met her eyes with a look of such wild desperation that it knocked her off kilter with an overwhelming wave of sympathy, untempered even by her disdain for him. Then, she saw Teddy, standing with feet apart and arms raised from his sides as if poised to pounce back into the scrap. It made her skin crawl to see such malice written bold across his face, and felt validated in her immediate suspicion of him. There had been a strange glint in his eye when he rushed to shake her hand that afternoon, like sunlight on black ice. Jason stood between them, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and hair ruffled. The eye contact between them was brief; his eyes darted between her and her uncle, she raised a questioning eyebrow, he shrugged almost imperceptibly, and then it was over.
“I see.” Her uncle deadpanned. “And who started it, the ‘not fighting?’ Mm? Mr Tully? Perhaps you could shed some light on the subject?”
Carol stepped forward, intrigued. The boys stayed quiet, as she expected. All teenagers adhered to an unspoken code: don’t fink. Fink and you’re dead. Angus and Teddy’s eyes met in a silent challenge. Teddy jutted his jaw and glared like a petulant child.
“Mr Kountze? Mr Smith? Mr Ollerman? Mr Park? Alright then, we’ll do it like the Roman Legions.” Carol picked up a tinge of delight in her uncle’s voice. “Absent a confession, one man’s sin is every man’s suffering. For every minute the truth is withheld, you will all receive a detention.”
“I thought all the Nazis were hiding in Argentina.” Angus muttered. A barely contained laugh threatened to spill from Carol’s mouth, to her horror and confusion.
“Stifle it, Tully!” Mr Hunham checked his watch. “Now, in the first of said detentions, you will…” He paused as if thinking on his feet. “...clean the library. Top to bottom. Scraping the underside of the desks, which are caked with snot and gum, and all manner of unspeakable proteins.” Jason met her eyes, pleading silently ‘do something!’ “Ahh, on your hands and knees, down in the dust.” She felt a protest bubbling up in her chest. “Breathing in the dead skin of generations of students, and dessicated cockroaches-”
“Mr Hunham!”
“It was Kountze!” Little Alex blurted out, drowning her own exclamation. As he pointed desperately at Teddy, she caught Angus throwing him a look that landed somewhere between pity and disgust.
“Bravo, Mr Ollerman. Bravo!” Mr Hunham exclaimed sardonically, eyes shimmering with malignant joy. “As it stands, you've all had two hearty meals today, so I’m sure going without supper won’t hurt Mr Kountze too badly. We’ll be meeting in the dining hall in one hour, where you-” He waggled his finger at Teddy. “Will sit aside and watch us. I suggest you all take this time as an opportunity to study, and, uh, gentlemen? Break it up.”
With that, he waddled out past Park and Ollerman, raising his eyebrows as he caught sight of Carol waiting for him.
“Ah. You caught that, I assume?” She said nothing, just nodded and fell in step beside him. “I’m sensing some disapproval?”
“Well.” She bit her lip, unsure of how bold she should be. But then again, this Christmas couldn’t get any worse, right? “As a history teacher, I’m sure you’re familiar with the Geneva Convention.”
“Yes, I am.” Paul chuckled. “And I know what you’re getting at, too.”
“Well, personally, I’d rather not be subjected to any war crimes over my Christmas break. Plus, I’d rather not be in the position to agree with Angus Tully on something.”
“You’re off to a rocky start with him?”
“You could say that.”
“He’s a bright kid, in spite of his determination to act out and destroy his own potential.”
“I believe you.” She contemplated his words for a moment. “Maybe, and don’t take this the wrong way, if you, say… cut them some slack, the morale would be higher and everyone would get along a whole lot better. It’s Christmas.”
“Trust me, Carol, the last thing those boys need is leniency. They already think they can get away with murder, and I’d hate to see what comes after that. If you’re ever in the sorry position of a teacher, you’ll understand what I mean.”
“I suppose so.” She sighed, feeling thoroughly deflated. “See you at dinner.”
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