#not that it fell off after that I just never got around to watching it
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NCT Dream confessing to you.
AN: Wow this one was long too because I got carried away.
Mark Lee
Mark would be the type that wanted to keep it quiet and private. Just the two of you. In your apartment, over two cups of coffee. It was a peaceful moment where in you two are enjoying the peace when Mark couldn't stop himself from staring at you. He likes you ever since you two were in high school. He doesn't want to confess because he's afraid of ruining your friendship. But in that moment, he just feels like doing it. So he holds your hand, starting with something like, "There's something I wanted to say," and then before you could say anything, he tells you that he likes you. You'll be flustered with the sudden confession, but only smiles, confessing to him that you also like him too. He'll be happy to hear your confession and once the tension is gone, you two will start teasing each other, asking when did you two start liking each other.
Huang Renjun
Renjun would do it during a late night walk from a coffee shop run. You two just finished a huge school paper and are now on the way to your place because Renjun wanted to make sure that you get home before he goes to his place. Your neighborhood has always been this quiet, making Renjun nervous. This is the moment that he's been waiting for. For months, he has been pining over you and it was a risk for him to confess to you, but he just wanted to tell you so that he wanted to know if he should stop pining over you or not. So when he grabs your hand, you were surprised, but Renjun acts like it was nothing even swaying it lightly. His hands never left yours until you two reached your place, that's where he confesses to you about his feelings. Surprised, you weren't able to answer his confession because he ran away quickly! (You texted him that you like him too.)
Lee Jeno
It's been bugging him for months! Jeno's pining for you is so hard to watch especially for his friends, they think that he should just confess to you because they don't like seeing Jeno's love strucked pining over you and the other one is that, they know that you like him back! (they're just keeping it as a secret.) So after many convincing, Jeno mustered up the courage. He said at first, he'll do it through text but he couldn't find the right word to do so, so he asked you if he can call and you said yes. As soon as you said hi, Jeno bursts. Literally confessed to you so fast that you weren't able to pick up anything other than, "I like you." he seems so out of breath after the confession but apologizes to you because of the sudden confession but you only laughed it off and told him that you like him too!
Lee Donghyuck
I feel like Haechan follows some superstitions like when you confessed to someone during the first fall of snow, they'll be yours forever something like that. Haechan thinks that it's true that's why he asked you to meet him during the first snow, as predicted by the weather forecast. You met him at the school's playground and Haechan thinks that you look cute in your winter coat, even placing his scarf around you so that you'll be more warm. He looks at the sky and then thinks that any minute now, it's going to snow but it didn't. He'll ask you to wait for a few minutes glancing at the sky once again, making you realized what's happening. You told him that he doesn't need the first snow to happen, because you like him too. Haechan would be in relief to hear those words from you, you two will end up laughing because of the situation. When he walked you home, that's when the snow fell, making you two be in awe with the weather.
Na Jaemin
Oh I think that Jaemin would confess to you at the spur of the moment. It'll be on a vacation trip. The two of you are sitting on the chairs, watching the waves crash while the moon glisten on the ocean. You two are just sitting there, talking about the future and something deep, like what would happen to you and your friend group once you guys graduated and you two are just laughing and being silly, until Jaemin stops and glances at you. That's when it caught you off-guard that he's been staring for too long. "Do you know that I've always liked you?" and you tried to laugh it off, telling him to stop fooling around until he says that he's serious. You two will have a staring contest, his eyes looking at you lovingly. Waiting for an answer from you. Instead of answering him, you pulled Jaemin for a kiss, which surprised him but he only smile as he leans to kiss you once more.
Zhong Chenle
"After this, there's something important that I wanted to say to you," would probably a hint Chenle will give you. He's the type who'll confess after a huge event, let's say, you're the main star of a musical prod in your university. You've been working hard and have been practicing nonstop for the show, and then Chenle told you that he's going to say something to you after you finish the show because he wants you to focus on the prod first. But it distracts you more! because you're curious about what he wants to say to you! You tried to ask Chenle about it but he brushes it off. So at the day of your final show, Chenle shows up with a bouquet of flowers on his hands. It'll be just the two of you, somewhere backstage, hidden from the crowd. He'll say first that he's proud of you, and that he likes you which made you cry, overwhelmed with joy.
Park Jisung
You know those romance high school anime where they confess during graduation? Yeah that's how Jisung confesses to you. It'll be during your graduation because it's a risk for Jisung. It's now or never, so if you even rejected him, at least he won't be seeing you anymore. He'll be the type to text you to meet him at your classroom or maybe at the school's rooftop (if you guys are allowed there lmao.) When you reached the meeting place, you'll see him with his diploma, wearing his school uniform and you'll be caught off-guard at how incredibly handsome Jisung is. He'll approach you and then it took him a minute to say word, eventually, stumbling through his confession. "I don't need your answer yn, I just want to tell you I like you before we part ways." he added. And instead of answering him, you gave Jisung a hug, surprising him with your action.
#nct dream#nct imagines#nct dream fic#nct fic#nct x reader#nct#nct dream imagine#nct scenarios#nct fluff#nct reactions#nct dream reactions#nct drabbles#nct mark#nct jeno#nct renjun#nct haechan#nct jaemin#nct chenle#nct jisung
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One: “Thanks, I Hate You”
You and your arrogant PR client are bitter rivals, and there’s no length Loki won’t go to just to watch you squirm. Just when you think you’re going to get a much-needed break from the Great Redeemed Prince’s ego, you’re tapped to escort him to, of all things, a peace summit in Australia.
CONTENT WARNING: Loki's an asshole
WORD COUNT: 3.4k
MASTERLIST
“Mr. Odinson, tell me, how does it feel to be reformed for eighteen months now?”
“Mr. Laufeyson, actually, and it feels absolutely incredible, it’s as if my soul is free at last!”
“And you have no more genocidal urges or Asgardian instincts to kill?”
“Never again will I do harm to the people of this planet, who have so kindly agreed to give me a second chance after removing the influence of my--err---the scepter.”
Loki’s shit-eating grin unfolded across his face, but to the untrained eye, he looked every bit the contrite warlord who fell in love with the world he’d once targeted for conquest. He could twitch and tweak every muscle in his face into the optimal layout for ass-kissing, and the only ones who were ever wise were you and the rest of the team.
“At least he plays the part well,” you said bitterly to Tony, leaning over to mutter in his ear while watching the former ‘God’ play up the press like they were at a rock concert. Some of the reporters looked downright charmed, but you knew better. You were more interested in the snow flurries that were falling outside the window.
Tony shrugged. “Yeah, he’s okay.”
You sneered, rolling your eyes with disbelief. “Until the flash bulbs stop. Then he becomes a baboon’s taint.”
Stark muffled a snort of laughter with his fist. “Always one for eloquence. That’s why I hired you.”
“I’m also the only one around willing to wrangle that,” you paused, pointing at Loki as he folded his hands into a prayer pose, expressing gratitude for the praise he was receiving, “for your pittance of an asking price.”
“I pay you well,” Tony shot back in defense. “Loki knows how to keep up appearances--”
“--he took off his pants in the lunchroom yesterday to annoy me--”
“--most of the time.”
You folded your arms across your chest, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Loki as things in the press room wrapped up. In his very basic outfit: a dress shirt and tie, black slacks, and a tight, professional ponytail, he looked dashing enough. You’d known the truth about him for the eighteen months since you were hired to be his PR manager: Loki had all of the behavioral maturity of an eight-year-old high on pixie sticks. He loved attention, always jutting out his hips when he strutted about the complex, flipping his hair over his shoulder.
Loki loved to paint himself as the very model of a modern major comeback story. At first, it was for self-preservation. The terms of his parole as set forth by the UN were strict, and the best course of action to keep his freedom was to play by their rules. Over the next year-and-a-half, however, once it was clear that his image was evolving into that of a celebrity, Loki took the idea and ran with it, and he only used your unsavory opinion of his to fuel the fire he lit under your feet every chance he got.
It was almost as if he targeted you with most of his snarks and jests, always calling you every synonym for ‘boring’ he could muster. For a while, you could brush him off, but after the repeated comments, you began to push back…which led you to your current relationship status: tense at best, resentful and irritable more frequently.
You could not stand him! He never listened to your advice on how to conduct himself in public. One of his favorite pastimes was inviting the worst kinds of people over for sex, and then making you call them afterwards to dump them. “Loki isn’t sure he’s ready to fully commit to one person yet, but last night will always live in his memory…” It was degrading, gross, and such a slimeball move. You always sent each of his poor conquests a fruit basket the size of SoHo.
The only reason you refused to resign was that you really needed the money. Despite your repeated complaints, Tony was actually paying you very well. You could afford an apartment with a private toilet in Manhattan, anyway.
“And that’s all we have time for this afternoon, everyone,” Tony leapt onto the stage and gently nudged Loki away from the podium. “We’re all proud of Loki’s rehabilitation, as well as his decision to live among us and help the Avengers keep this world safe.”
The applause was thunderous. You bit your lower lip and got another glimpse of the snow squall outside while Loki bowed and mouthed thanks to his supporters. Every second you could successfully divert your attention away from the Asgardian was a victory. Alas, it was temporary.
As soon as he left the stage, he gave you a smarmy, evil wink. “Better than ever, wouldn’t you say?”
“Hercules couldn’t clean out all the bullshit in your stables, Loki,” you said with an exasperated sigh.
“Successfully convincing the world of your contrition is an art, you know.”
“So is painting on walls with shit, to some.”
Loki couldn’t help but snicker under his breath, You were the most feisty woman he’d ever met, aside from maybe Natasha Romanoff. “I see we’re fond of the scatalogical comebacks today. Doesn’t that mean your menses are coming on?”
You could have whirled around on your heels and punched him, but your restraint was enough to keep your professional demeanor, at least until you were out of public sight and in one of the private areas. There were still a LOT of people around and your entire job was keeping up appearances for both yourself and your charge. “I have a headache today, Loki, please shut up and let me do my job.”
“So it is your cycle!” he chortled, putting his hands on his hips. “Do you know what they say helps with menstrual cramps?”
“Don’t!” you warned between gritting teeth, giving Loki a glare of death. “I mean it!”
Loki paused, as if he was actually going to listen. Then he opened his trap, and it came out: “a good hard dicking!”
There it was. Your line. Loki had crossed it so far that he was about to meet customs on the other side.
You slapped him across his right cheek hard enough for his head to whip to the side. Of course, he was able to recover from it quickly, only to pout his lips and widen his eyes when several gasps from the reporters still in the press room silenced everything else. Loki’s snarky smile never left his face, especially as he looked back at you with a somewhat more venomous twinge.
“It’s 2024,” you scowled, “try something less sexist than blaming my period next time, assbag.”
“So violent,” he said lightly. “So attractive. No wonder you have so many dates…oh wait, that’s me!” he said mockingly, putting a hand over his heart and acting surprised. “I have all the dates, and you’re the one who resents that and takes it out on me by hitting me in front of all of my friends!”
He dropped his sarcastic smile, replacing it with narrow, threatening eyes and a thin frown. “Embarrass me like that again, woman, I dare you.”
“I only resent that you make me clean your dirty sheets afterwards, asshole,” you answered. “I don’t really care how many strains of herpes you intend to collect from the Greater New York area. You’re a pampered little twat, and I really do deserve more money for babysitting you.”
You started to leave, but you quickly thought better of it and walked back to say one more thing. “And I will gladly smack you in front of these people any day of the week! No one else is going to put you in your place!”
“And what place is that, Madam?” he asked, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow.
Nearby, a young blonde reporter who was clearly one of Loki’s fans had taken special interest, and was trying to shoot as many desperate glances at him as she could, asking for her turn in his bed with only verbal cues from across a crowded room.
“I’d say Hell, but you probably have a permanent residence there already.”
You noticed the blonde was starting to inch closer, and in her stupid, beady little eyes you saw your escape. “I think I see your Skank of the Day coming in for the steal right now.”
Loki turned to look at the blonde reporter, and he looked somewhat unimpressed. “I suppose. The only other creature in here with any sort of beauty is--”
He stopped mid-thought and decided to go back into his debonair facade, waving you away snobbishly and sticking his nose up. “You’re done for the day, I think. Now please leave me to woo this exquisite little doll who approaches…”
You did have some work you needed him for. There was a peace summit in Australia hosted by Amnesty International, and Loki was a keynote speaker, having been spared from the death penalty and turned into the Earth’s darling. He was the world’s most instantly-recognizable proof that anyone could be rehabilitated, which made him a highly desirable motivational speaker. The summit was in three days, and you needed to brief him on the PR person taking over your duties once he crossed the international dateline.
He could terrorize the Land Down Under for five days all he wanted. You were about to have your first vacation from the miserable fucker since starting your job. This was going to be your Christmas.
However, you didn’t feel like dragging him away from the little hopeful moving in on him, and instead you decided to begin packing your bag for your long-desired break from Loki.
“She what?!” you growled in anger, turning away from Stark and Banner to hide that fact that you were almost instantly upset by their news.
“Mrs. Donner resigned yesterday,” said Bruce Banner, twiddling his thumbs apprehensively, making him look like a human-sized pangolin. “She’s not taking Loki to Australia.”
“WHY NOT? She’s more qualified than I am!” you bullshitted, doing anything to try and convince these two to go after her. You knew what this meant, but you weren’t ready to accept it just yet. You were a fighter, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sacrifice your time off now.
“She’s also a Mormon. I’m surprised she put up with Loki’s harassment as long as she has,” replied Banner.
“Or maybe she enjoyed it so much she had to jet off to Planet More-Men or whatever heaven is for them,” Stark mumbled.
“It doesn’t matter,” you said, brushing the air in front of you as if erasing something off of an invisible chalk board, “what does matter is who we are going to send him with. His parole terms state he cannot cross international boundaries alone.”
“C”mon, Y/N, you know where this is going!” said Tony with a wink.
“No,” you said firmly.
“It’ll be summer down there,” said Banner, “It’ll be nicer than here in New York.”
“No!” you repeated. “My vacation!”
Stark rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, that’s why I’m offering you a month’s paid sabbatical after you return.”
“No…I…what?” your fast, angry thoughts slowed on the conveyor belt as you began processing his counteroffer. “I was only scheduled for a week!”
Tony nodded. “Yeah, I’m quadrupling that right now, I’ll even get it in writing if you want. I can do that. I’m awesome like that.”
A month! A month without Loki poking fun of your ‘menses’ or humiliating you with jests and quips under his breath. A whole month of sleeping in late, dressing like a slob, and not worrying about how you or any client of yours appeared to the public. Tony Stark certainly knew how to play your game.
“You must be desperate,” you sighed, thinking about it.
“Well, if Loki can’t attend the summit, it’ll look kinda bad,” Bruce added, his low, bashful voice somewhat harder to hear than Tony’s confident tone.
“I’ll get you VIP passes to any club in the city for the whole month you’re off,” Tony added. “Four of them. And unlimited cocktail service. Live like a movie star for the next month, and all you have to do is babysit our little horndog for five days in Aussieland this week.”
“Deal,” you acquiesced at last, not missing a beat. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.”
All three of you turned your heads toward the intrusive new voice in the room. Loki was leaning against the doorway to the office, arms folded, a shit-eating sneer on his face. You felt your skin go hot at his sudden, unwelcome appearance.
“I was hoping that my exertions manipulating that old dowager into quitting would bear fruit, and now it seems I’m just time for my little trip with my dearest friend in the Realm!”
“Easy, Lokes,” said Stark, holding back a laugh. “Don’t push it, ok?”
You bit your lip to keep your temper. It didn’t make any difference if you kept protesting. You’d taken Stark’s carrot, and now you had five days of this jester’s extraterrestrial farts to sniff.
“Oh, I’m sure the next few days will include plenty of pushing about,” said Loki.
Tony raised an eyebrow and began following Banner as he snuck out of the room. “Be on the roof tomorrow morning. Oh, and uh, the quinjet has got some issues so it can’t go any faster than Mach 1.5 right now. Means it’ll take a little longer to get out there. Hope you two can get comfortable with one another real fast.”
“You…you set this up,” you hissed, your anger bubbling to the surface now that your employer was out of range. “I ought to ask your father to hang you.”
This only made him laugh. “He would only love the pleasure, I’m sure.”
And I would love to see your corpse swinging by the neck, you thought. “Why? Why did you do this?” you asked with frustration. “You hate me and I absolutely hate you, Loki, so why force us to be in closer proximity for longer than necessary?”
“Oh, I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart from you, sweet pea! It’s my greatest delight in life to always hover five paces behind you and piss you off. The mere idea of being so far away for so long!” Loki brought a mocking hand to his heart, expressing fake sadness in both his body and face. “My heart would only cry for you.”
“I should just make you go alone and make an ass of yourself,” you suggested. “Maybe some Australian hell-beast will swallow you whole.”
“Oh-ho! By all means,” Loki chuckled, throwing his head back. “Let me loose without supervision in a foreign country as the sole representative of the United States, the Nine Realms, and the Avengers. That will go over well for all of us.”
Your jaw hung open, no witty retorts for him, Unfortunately, he was right. Punking out would in one way or another, only serve to humiliate yourself and Stark.
“Ah, ah…” Loki tucked a finger under your chin, nudging your mouth closed by poking your chin upward, “You’ll catch flies.”
He left you there, speechless in the middle of the room, only turning back in the doorway to add: “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, darling!”
Before going to bed that night, curled up in your sad little futon in your one-bedroom loft, you prayed to every god that wasn’t Asgardian that there would be some kind of apocalyptic blizzard that popped up out of nowhere, forcing the takeoff to be delayed. Inclement weather was probably the only acceptable excuse for Loki to be a no-show down in Sydney. WHile the city didn;t necessarily get as much snow as upstate near the lakes, it usually took a few inches to shut the whole place down. There was hope. Perhaps the weatherfolks were keeping it a surprise…
This meant, of course, that the next morning was the first perfectly sunny morning New York had seen in weeks. In a small act of rebellion against the little shit you had to babysit, you chose to take your sweet time getting in. You purposefully dragged your feet down to the subway, your suitcase dragging along like a weight tethered to your wrist. You saw an abnormally-long line outside of a coffee shop and decided to stop in for an Americano.
By the time you made it to the rooftop of Stark Tower, you were over an hour late, which was not typical for you. The jet was otherwise prepped, the diminutive young pilot tapping his feet impatiently by the nose, Stark and Loki just tossing the last of his belongings in around the side.
“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” said Tony.
Loki dropped what he was doing and shuffled up to you. He gave a mock bow, taking your hand and laying a big wet kiss on the back of it. “My escort, how lovely to finally see your bright face ready for our trip!”
“Die.”
Loki pouted. “Oh, is that any way to greet your business partner? I asked for you to be at my side all week long! Don’t you think I’m owed a little more courtesy?”
“Please die.”
“That’s my girl.”
Just before you boarded, Tony gave you a wink and one last piece of advice: “Remember, when the going gets tough, lie back and think of England.”
The last thing he saw before the doors shut was your middle finger.
Once the pilot got the quinjet into the air, he announced that he’d need to take his time in order to appease whatever yet-to-be-diagnosed tech issue the plane had, and prevent something from happening.
“Ugh, so what’s our ETA, then?” Loki asked impatiently, the saccharine facade dropping the instant he was out of Stark’s view.
The pilot shrugged. “I can get us there safely in five hours, maybe.”
“FIVE HOURS?” you groaned. “This thing is--”
“--gonna disintegrate if I don’t treat it gently,” he shot back. “Relax! It’s still a hell of a lot faster than if you were flying in a Boeing, okay?”
You and Loki looked at each other with annoyance. You sighed and went to sit as far away from the cockpit as you could, taking a green-jacketed book from your shoulder bag and flipping it open a bit too dramatically.
Unfortunately, Loki didn’t seem to take the hint, sitting beside you and peeking over your shoulder.
“You kept us waiting on purpose,” he accused. “You’re a bit of a brat, you know.”
You couldn’t take it anymore. Gently shutting the book, you turned to Loki with the most serious expression you could muster without losing your professionalism.
“Look, Laufeyson, you’re the one who set this up for us. If I had to venture a guess, it’s because you’re bored and needed a new way to make me miserable. But let’s make one thing perfectly clear: I hate you. I can’t stand your smarmy face and how you get off on making me crazy! Every time you open your mouth, it makes me want to drop-kick an orphan! I’d rather have a root canal while on ecstasy every day for the rest of my life than be sitting right here next to you.”
Loki didn’t blink. “...and how does that make you feel?”
“But I’m getting my big payout when this is all over, so for FUCK’S SAKE, let’s make this easy on both of us? You don’t bother me, I won’t bother you. You can find a kangaroo’s pouch to ride around in for all I care.” You went to open your book again, but Loki laid a firm hand over top of it.
“I’m hurt. Truly.”
You snickered. “Sure.”
“You know what your problem is?” Loki leaned back, crossing his hands casually. “You’re too uptight.”
“Uptight? You call me defending myself against all of your abuse UPTIGHT?” you growled from behind your gritted teeth.
“Well, it wasn’t abuse at first,” Loki added, “I was only making jokes to say hello!”
“Bullshit,” you said angrily. “The day we met, you called me a servant and asked if I would massage your feet.”
“Well, now it’s just fun for me to watch you lose your temper,” he admitted. “The thought of being alone with you to twist and push every button you’ve got just to see how loudly you’d shout…”
“Stop it, Loki! I’d rather this plane go down right now than be alone with you. Ever!”
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a little jealousy; sirius black
pairing: sirius black x reader | 0.9k words
plot: fighting is normal but, making up is just as important.
authors note: i hope u like this little something
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You hated this, the quiet. His hand would be around you, on your thigh, on your arms, his body flush against you, his voice blurring everything out. You missed him.
He avoided you, you had fought after all, over something stupid, you now realized.
“That’s ridiculous.” He laughed as he turned his back to you. The surring anger inside your chest rose only further.
“So you think it’s ridiculous that I’m angry because Melanie fucking Primrose was hitting on you while I stood right fuckin’ next to you?!”
He brushed a hand over his face before he pushed a cigarette between his lips. He didn’t look at you, brushed your issue away like it wasn’t one at all.
“Sirius, look at me when I’m speaking to you.” He eyed you, blowing some smoke from his lips, mouth in a scowl.
“Sirius!” Your hand on his upper arm before he shrugged it off, his eyebrows drawn together.
“Back off, Y/N.” He blew some more smoke before he stepped away from you. He took his jacket and shrugged it on.
“Actin’ like my goddamn mother.”
You huffed in disbelief.
“You didn’t just compare me to your abusive, awful mother.” Your chest felt tight, your hands were icy cold.
“Oh please, you’re just like her. I can’t even stand the sight of you right now.”
He took a drag of his cigarette and walked past you, hitting your shoulder in the process.
You were still angry, livid even. He had compared you to his horrible mother, the woman you loathed for treating him like garbage. You’ve fought before, of course you did.
Every couple fights but never has he ever insulted you like this. Was that what he saw you like? As a woman so awful that he has to compare you to the woman who abused him for years on end?
“Why won’t you talk to him?” Lily’s hand rested on your arm, drink in hand. Reggie poured some more in your cup.
“Leave him be, he deserves to be miserable, to be honest.” You downed the insides of your cup before holding it out for the younger Black to fill it up again.
“You might want to slow down a bit or you’ll end up shit faced.” He commented before filling up the cup again. “James said he regrets acting like this.” Lily tried again but you shook your head.
“Why won’t he tell me then? If he regrets it so badly?” Reggie sighs and blows some smoke. “You’re acting childish.” You frowned at him, hands now crossed.
“You blew up in his face over something he didn’t even register and he compared you to our awful monster of a mother, I believe you’re kind of even.”
You didn’t answer, you knew he was right. You watched Sirius glance at you before he took off to the balcony.
“Talk to him, apologize and please make up, I can’t take anymore of your weeping.”
“Hi.” You tried, a cigarette in your mouth as you searched for a lighter. He was quicker and lit the cigarette for you. “Hello, love.” He said, putting his lighter away.
“I-”I’m” Both of you wanted to apologize, at the same time. A chuckle escaped the both of you as you stared ahead, the music buzzed behind you in a comforting manner.
“I wanted to apologize, I never should’ve said that to you. You’re nothing like my mother.” He paused and placed his hand in yours.
“You’re the most loving, beautiful and kindest woman I’ve ever known. I was angry and I spoke before thinking.” You nodded, taking a drag from your cigarette.
You turned to him, his hair fell over his eyes a bit, his eyes glassy. “I shouldn’t have made it such a big issue. I was jealous and let it out on you. I'm sorry.” He nodded, his thumb stroking your hand lovingly.
“I guess we’re both idiots.” You nodded and flicked your done cigarette off the balcony. Your hand found the back of his neck before you pulled him for a kiss.
“But if you let Melanie touch you like this once again I’m sneaking into your room at night and I’ll strangle you to death, got it?”
His face stretched into a grin as he nodded, his eyes hooded. “Is that funny to you?” He chuckled as he placed a quick kiss on your lips.
“I kind of like you a little jealous.” You shook your head and grabbed for his cigarette, he let you.
“This is way more than just jealousy, I’m obsessed with you.” He tilted his head and grabbed your waist with his unoccupied arm, lips in a smile.
“I love you.” He whispered. You grabbed his face and placed a kiss on his lips.
“You’re mine, Sirius.” He nodded, your head on his chest. He placed a kiss on top of your head. “All yours, love.”
#harrypotter#hp fanfic#marauders imagine#the marauders#marauders era#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black angst#sirius black fanfic#sirius black imagine#siriusblack#harry potter fanfic#sirius orion black#the marauders era
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The Challenge— Chapter 11
AN: i really do hope these gif’s scare you before reading. Anyways this week’s is really short because finals kicked my ass, but i hope you enjoy!!!
Being in the military, you start to see some stuff you don’t really want to see.
There’s always someone dying, a mauled or mangled corpse in a dark corner of a safe house. You get used to it, after so many years on the job.
One thing he could never get used too is seeing his team like this.
Listening to your explanation was already rough. He was forced to stand there and watch you struggle to explain yourself, listen as you slowly gave into your feelings. And seeing you cry was…
Well. To say the least, he had never seen you cry before, in all your years in the military.
Your quiet sobs filled the room, muffled slightly by the material of Price’s shirt. He stayed on one knee, wrapping his arms tightly around your back and murmuring reassurances so quietly into your hair not even Simon could make them out. After what felt like forever, he lifted his head and looked directly at Johnny.
The man snapped out of his thoughts, and crept forward towards the pair. “Take her to the barracks, got somethin to take care of.” Price said, and Johnny nodded.
“Aye, sir. Here, lass, up ya come.” It broke his heart, seeing you like that. And he knew the others agreed, based on the looks they were giving you. Johnny helped you stand, supporting you on his shoulder when you wobbled slightly. “Steady, bonnie. I gotcha, it’s alright.” He felt the hand before he saw the person, watching as Simon wordlessly scooped you into his arms bridal style. You squeaked at the sudden movement, and the man just tucked your head into his chest.
“Show off,” Soap grumbled, rolling his eyes at the man’s antics. Simon just shrugged.
The two of them brought you to the barracks, but instead of going into your room, Simon brought you to the spare room in the far corner of the hall. Long ago, since before you even joined, they had turned the room into a shared space for the four of them. It contained a bed larger than most of the ones in the bedrooms, big enough to fit all four of the men at once.
This is the bed simon set you down on, shushing you softly when you whined. Your eyes were red and puffy, and you were still sniffing. Simon gently removed your shoes, and sat on the bed next to you.
“Here, Johnny.” The scott needed no other motivation, kicking off his shoes and climbing in the bed behind you. The two men pressed you between them, Simon holding on to your waist and Johnny holding you across your stomach.
“We gotcha, it’s okay.” Johnny said, pulling you closer when the quiet sobs began again. The three of you stayed like that for a while, till your breathing evened out and you fell asleep.
It had been a good while since you had seen your sister, so long that you hardly remember her features. You’re somewhat sure she had the same eyes as you, maybe different hair?
Either way she was in front of you. And she was pissed. Her face contorted into thousands of shapes and expressions, her feelings displayed so clearly it was dizzying. One moment she was overjoyed, the next she was in despair, then she was so angry you thought she would kill you. Her voice resounded through the room, a chorus of loud, angry wails. The noise was deafening, so much so that you wanted to hold your hands over your ears, but you were rooted in place.
“How could you do this to me?” She screamed, holding her head in her hands. “I trusted you, you wretched bitch! Selfish, all i did was protect you, I even took your beatings! How could you leave me, why would you…“
The words made you want to cry, but you were incapable of producing the tears. Slowly, you lifted your hand to her, trying to help in some way, like you used too. The movement was like a harsh gust of wind, and she backed away from you so fast you were sure she glitched.
“Get the fuck away! Why would I ever trust you again?”
You actually did cry then. You wanted to scream, to tell her that it wasn’t really your fault, how you thought you were helping her, how you were sorry. So, so fucking sorry, but the words melted alongside the scene.
You were flying through dark space, into the next part of the dream. This time, the boys were here with you. They surrounded a chair in a small room, where one person sat with a bag over their head. It was a scene you had taken part of, on some mission years ago.
“Right, then.” Price said, stepping forward. “You know why you’re here.” He ripped the bag off of the persons head, and you saw yourself sitting in the chair.
Your face was covered in cuts and bruises, and your eyes were so swollen they couldn’t even open anymore. Your nose had been permanently broken out of place, and a lot of your hair was either completely cut off or uneven in the worst places.
“It was fun playing with you, pet. Unfortunately, if there’s one thing I can’t stand—“ Here he pulled out a gun, pointing it straight at your head.”—It’s a liar. See you in hell, eh?”
The sound of the bullet startled you awake, and you gasped as your eyes flew open. Gaz backed off quickly, raising his hands in the air.
“It’s alright, just me.” You tried your best to calm down your breathing, spinning your head on a swivel.
“Where’s—“
“Simon and Johnny had to go help Price, sent me in to stay with you. Tried to wake you up but…”
You nodded. There were dried tear tracks on your face, and you could tell your hair was horribly tangled without even having to touch it.
“You don’t have to stay here. I’ll be okay in a bit,” You said. Gaz just shook his head.
“Can’t let a teammate suffer alone. It’s part of the job description.” He climbed into the bed with you—you were still in the shared room— and pulled your head down to his chest.
“I don’t remember reading it in the contract.”
“It’s a new addition.”
That made you smile. The two of you lapsed into silence, simply enjoying each others presence. The sheets still smelled slightly of the other two men, and they were still a bit warm.
They left recently, maybe seconds before Gaz got me up.
“You’re thinking too much, princess.” Gaz whispered, and you shrugged lamely.
“Got a lot to think about.”
“Wana talk? That… It helps. Sometimes.”
You just shrugged. He nodded, and there was silence again.
“Full moon tomorrow.” He said, and you hummed in agreement. “The sky should be fairly clear, we can go stargazing?”
You nodded against his chest, and he smiled.
Times like this made everything feel okay.
#cod x reader#poly 141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#poly 141#simon riley x reader#john price x reader#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost x reader
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Imagine: South Downs. Crowley had to fight off predators from his chicken coop
Aziraphale was in the kitchen, reheating his tea.
The day had been peaceful, as so many others for the past few months after the failed Second Coming.
He would spend the day reading or studying and Crowley would either sleep, watch TV, listen to music way too loud or be in the garden with his plants and their adorable little chickens. Chickens that he had refused to get at first, but now treated like children - not in front of Aziraphale though. Never in front of Aziraphale. But Aziraphale knew.
The angel was about to put a biscuit in his mouth when he heard a loud noise, like a bark. A very very loud bark. The biscuit slipped his fingers and ended up on the floor. He stood still, waiting for another noise, and when he heard a loud hiss, he turned off the stove and ran toward the back door, opening it abruptly and invading the garden.
The first thing he saw was the gigantic snake in his chicken coop. A well known snake, at that.
Careful, he got closer, just in time to watch Crowley hiss again at something Aziraphale couldn't quite see yet.
The two poor chicken were hidden in between his black and red coils, maybe a tad more strangled than the demon intended.
"My dear-"
Crowley looked back for a second, caught off guard, squeezing the chickens more tightly without noticing. That's when Aziraphale finally saw the couple of foxes nearby, both looking quite feral, if he was being absolutely honest.
The snake looked back at the animals, approaching them carefully and hissing again, making them take a couple of steps back.
"Oh dear oh dear. Let me."
The angel snapped his fingers and the feral expressions fell off the foxes' adorable lil faces. They looked quite stunned, like they just had woken up from some type of deep sleep. When they noticed the big snake still looking at them, both ran away without thinking twice.
When the coast was surely clear, Crowley transformed back into his corporation, picking up his sunglasses that had fallen when he transformed and putting them on by reflex.
Aziraphale smiled, adoring, and opened the little gate to the chicken coop - careful to close it after entering so the poor dears didn't run away -, approaching his partner.
"Very fierce."
"Shuddup."
"I am being very serious." The angel reached out, taking a couple of feathers from Crowley's hair. "Our local hero."
Crowley rolled his eyes - you could tell by the way he moved his neck along with it - and looked down at the chickens. They were both on the other side of the coup.
"Guess I gave them a scare."
"Don't judge them too harshly." He tapped his arm, ending by closing his hand around Crowley's bicep. "If a gigantic snake squeezed me out of nowhere, I would also get scared." Crowley gasped, looking down at the angel, who slapped his chest playfully. "Not you, my dear. Never you."
#good omens imagine#good omens#crowley#aziraphale#ineffable husbands#anthony j crowley#aziracrow#asks#anon
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My Heart speaks for you (Part 3)
✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦
✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦
Pairing: Eris x f!reader
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: fluff, a bit of flirting?, slight hints of anxiety, nightmare but with happy ending
Summary: Y/n is the youngest child of the High Lord of the Night Court and lives a slightly different life than the rest of her family. But what happens, when an unexpected visitor enters the stage and decides to completely change her life?
Music:
Let it all out on me - Houses on the Hill
Codex - Joel Sunny
Snowfall - Øneheart (8D Audio)
Part 1 ⎮Part 2⎮Part 3⎮
✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦
Golden rays of sunshine fell on my face, leaves casting shadows onto my features. The forest around me smelled of wet moss and fresh rain, and the bittersweet scent of resin and delicate heather wafted through the air from afar, while the birds above sang their melodies merrily.
I stood beside a birch tree, just as Eris had described, enjoying the last beams of sunlight and waited for him. The forest around me was painted in every autumnal shade imaginable, making it seem like a whole different world, the leaves competing to see who had the richest colours. It was breathtaking.
I had seen autumn in the Night Court, but it would never compare to the view surrounding me.
I spun around, my feet dancing across the spongy moss. Captivated by the glory of it all, I didn´t notice the light footsteps coming from behind. Someone chuckled, making me turn around to see the Autumn Court heir leaning against the bark of a tree. An amused smile played across his lips as he watched me. Of course, he looked as stunning as ever in his crimson tunic and fiery hair.
A blush spread across my cheeks and my body tensed under his gaze. Suddenly the air felt too hot. Too dry. A certain heat radiating off him. Just breathe. No need to be nervous.
„Welcome to the Autumn Court, y/n! I´m delighted you accepted my invitation.“ He spoke as he walked towards me, extending his hand. Uncertain, I placed my hand in his. Gods, it was so small compared to his. His lips brushed my knuckles as he kissed them in a deep bow, the pink blush on my cheeks increasing.
He straightened and looked at me, another smile creeping over his lips as he noticed my cheeks.
Completely oblivious of how to react to his actions, I just stared at him like some love-drunk maiden.
„Come on then, I´ll show you my home.“ He waved and began to move deeper into the forest. I snapped out of my daze and quickly followed, my hands in my pockets.
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We strolled through the woods for about five minutes when I remembered what was hidden in one of my pockets. Pulling it out, I showed Eris a small notebook, encouraging him to open it when he gave me a puzzled look. His fingers grazed mine as he grasped the book, sending a shiver over my skin.
„So we can talk, even without words.“ and „Why did you invite me here? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me after what happened at the council meeting?“ - was written on the first page. He looked at me for a few seconds, hurt and confusion flashing in his eyes, before he answered. „I invited you because I want to get to know you better, otherwise I wouldn´t have written you this letter.“ Shame crawled into my gut. Of course. „And not only because you´re my mate, but back on Starfall you were the first person in a long time to listen to me without judgement.“ His answer surprised me, as I hadn´t expected him to be so honest and a tickling sensation settled in my stomach when he called me his mate. „So let me ask you, what is your life like? What should I know about you?“ he asked, stopping and staring directly at me with a challenging glint in his amber eyes, lowering his body to tower over me. His hands were crossed politely behind his back.
I pulled a pen from my pocket and quickly jotted down my answer. „You can ask me anything you like. I´ve got nothing to hide, fox.“
Eris laughed at the nickname and it was one of the most beautiful sounds I´ve ever heard. It was a deep and full laugh, smooth as silk and honey and with a touch of incredulity and irony, it melted right into my soul. „Careful, little dove. Foxes have sharp teeth and you certainly don´t want to meet mine.“ His intense gaze should´ve made me nervous, but instead it only spurred me on. In his presence, I didn´t have to play the shy girl or the cursed princess. I felt I could be myself.
„Do you think you can intimidate me that easily, Eris Vanserra? So go ahead, ask me your questions.“ When I showed him what I had written down, he looked back at me with surprise in his features and something else I couldn´t quite put my finger to, so I put on my most defiant expression, raised one eyebrow and dared not look away.
But a cheeky grin crept up my lips, causing me to break the stare and hide my smile, but Eris grabbed my shoulder and pulled me towards him, his chest almost touching mine. He was so tall, I had to lean back to look up at him.
„Do that again.“ His breath swept over my face as I blinked at him, dumbfounded. „Smile again.“ So I did and gave him a coy smile. „You have a lovely smile, little dove.“ His other hand came up to caress my cheek, making me blush again. It felt rough and soft at the same time, and a lump formed in the back of my throat as I felt a heat building in my stomach. The tips of my pointed ears flushed. Something about that nickname made me feel... safe. The Eris everyone had told me about wasn´t the one standing in front of me, that´s for sure.
I tried my best not to close my eyes and lean into his touch, not wanting this moment to end.
When the silence turned to embarrassment, he cleared his throat and let go of my shoulder. „I can ask you anything I want?“ he asked, earning a look of annoyance from me in return, and chuckled. „Okay, fine. I´ll leave a couple questions behind. But hurry now, I want to show you something.“ He urged me forward, putting his hands behind my back. „Come on now. Otherwise we´ll miss it.“ I couldn´t hide another grin at his behaviour.
We continued wandering through the woods, and he asked me any question that came to his mind. What do I like eating most? What do I do in my spare time, and what are my favourite flowers? What sights should he visit in Velaris? He was genuinely interested in me and my life, and I happily wrote down my answers to every single question. I `told´ him about my life in Velaris and what it was like to grow up in the Night Court.
At some point during our `conversation´, his questions became even more philosophical. Why are we born into this world? What do I think our purpose is, and do we even have one? I could feel myself relaxing more and more with each question he asked. With every twist and turn around the trees. With every minute the sun set deeper, until the last sunrays fell weakly through the treetops.
Whether it was the fact that I was his mate that drew me to him, I didn´t care. I was beginning to like him. For himself. The self he probably didn´t show very often, if ever, in front of others. I liked him not because of this bond between us, but because he treated me kindly. Because he made me feel like I could be myself around him, and that meant a lot to me. Even though he would never know that.
✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦
It must have been an hour later when Eris ignited a flame in the palm of his hand to provide us with some light. It had gone pitch black now that the sun had finally bid us farewell, only for her sister to shine as brightly as ever on the sky canopy.
My fingertips tingled and a blissful warmth built up in my chest as the heat of the flame gently stroked my skin.
„Don´t worry, we´ll be right there.“ He said, noticing my worried look. I scribbled something on a page and showed it to him.
„Yes, there are. But don´t be afraid little dove, the terrors of the night won´t find or harm us.“ I nodded slowly and closed the journal, putting it back in my pocket.
Two minutes later, Eris suddenly came to a halt and I bumped into his side. We were standing at the edge of a forest glade. The lush grass swayed gently in the night breeze, and the faint chirping of crickets filled the air.
„This is what I wanted to show you, y/n.“ I looked up at him, utterly confused. Even more so when he just smiled at me, the flame in his hand died and Eris started to run out into the field.
I didn´t understand what was going on at first, but what happened then absolutely stole my breath.
Everywhere, fireflies ascended from the grasses into the night sky like lost stars. They danced and swirled around each other, bathing the clearing in a soft green, yellowish light. The crickets acted as a perfect orchestra, playing a sensual waltz as the fireflies soared higher and higher with each note. My mouth fell open and tears formed in my eyes. It was breathtaking. Amazing. Glorious. Without realising it, laughter broke out. But not Eris´s. No, it was mine. I was laughing! Totally mesmerised by the phenomenon before my eyes. A natural spectacle of the greatest beauty. A circus of floating lights. The magnificence of it all poured into my soul, warming me from the inside out as I shivered in anticipation.
Eris turned when he heard my laughter, not even surprised that I actually made a sound, and waved me over. „Come here!“ He called, laughing as well. I walked slowly towards him, trying not to scare the fireflies away. The grass brushed my trousers and caressed my hands as I glided through it. Every now and then a single firefly landed on my shoulder to rest.
When I stopped in front of Eris, he looked down at me with a mischievous grin on his delicate lips. We stood so close I could hear his heartbeat and feel his hot breath tickling the tip of my nose. As we stared at each other in rapt, tears began to trickle down my cheeks as I was overwhelmed by... well, by everything. His hands cupped my face, brushing away the tears in comforting circles. „I assume you like it?“ He chuckled and I nodded, looking down. More tears streamed down my cheeks as another laugh escaped my throat. If I had to describe this moment, I´d say nothing but pure joy enveloped my body. „You should laugh more often, little dove. It suits you.“ His soothing voice sank into my being as I peered up at him with big doe eyes. I realised how wild and carefree I felt in his embrace. And how trapped I felt in my own home, with my own family.
The fireflies were reflected in his own eyes. They blended with the honey in them, making them sparkle even more. He looked truly magnificent. I turned around once, gesturing wildly with my hands at the clearing around us, and when I met his gaze again, my lips parted to speak, but I faltered. Instead, I mouthed „Thank you“ and gave him a graceful smile. „I appreciate it, but there is no need to thank me.“ He gestured to the ground and a plaid blanket appeared out of nowhere.
We lay down side by side, gazing up at the fireflies floating above our heads and the dazzling stars on the firmament. I stretched my hand and accidentally touched his. My breath caught for a second, but Eris didn´t pull away, he even brushed his fingers over mine. The gentle movement made me close my eyes and exhaled deeply.
So there we lay. Enjoying this peaceful moment of life together. Right now I didn´t care what my family or anyone else thought about him. I just longed to stay like this forever and never leave this place, even though I knew I had to. But that didn´t matter now.
„I found this clearing when I was a child.“ I opened my eyes and shifted to look at him. „Always ran away from my mother to explore the woods, you know? My brothers tried to follow me, but they could never catch up.“ He huffed. „What can I say? I´ve got some speed.“ I couldn´t help giggling at his own comment. „It´s become a safe haven for me. And it can be a safe haven for you too.“ Interest glinted in my eyes. „I use my magic to keep this clearing out of sight of any unwelcome visitors. In other words, my family will never find you here, so you can come and go as you please.“ I gave him a coy smile. „Only if you want to, of course.“ He added quickly. To show him I understood and honoured the fact, that out of all people he showed me his safe place, I squeezed his hand lightly in mine and the tips of his ears turned a shade darker. Was the Eris Vanserra blushing? Because of me? I tried to hold back a laugh, not wanting to embarrass him. As I rolled back onto my back, I tried to pull my hand away, but Eris wrapped his fingers between mine and gripped them tightly. It caught me by surprise, but didn´t bother me at all.
So we returned to staring at the night sky, lying in the grass and listening to the crickets for I don´t know how long.
✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦
Cauldron, it´s late! I have to go. I shivered and rose abruptly from the ground, causing Eris to follow my movement. „Wait, y/n! I know you have to leave, but I´ve got one more little surprise for you.“ he said, still holding onto my wrist. He reached into an inside pocket of his tunic and pulled out a long, golden shimmering amulet, adorned with fine, ruby-coloured jewels that glistened under the moonlight. „If you´re ever in trouble, tap the gem in the middle and I´ll know and find you.“ I gratefully accepted the necklace and tucked it safely into my jacket.
„Take care, little dove.“ He said farewell. „Goodbye.“ I mouthed, winnowing home.
Little did I know what was waiting for me in my bedroom.
I flinched, when I spotted my father´s stern face, his arms crossed. „I hope you have a good explanation for why you´re out of bed, young lady!“ His enraged tone made my hair stand on end.
That meant trouble ahead.
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„It´s the middle of the night! Where have you been?“ „We were worried about you. You can´t just disappear, darling.“ „Are you all right? Are you hurt?“
My parents bombarded me with questions and I couldn´t answer any of them. Of course, I didn´t want to tell them that I had gone to Autumn Court to see Eris, because they would probably become even more worried and I didn´t want to risk that.
But apparently I didn´t have to say anything.
My father sniffed the air and before I could cover my scent, he growled. „You were with him.“ His voice was deep and menacing. „I thought we agreed you weren´t to see that... that jerk. He´s dangerous, darling.“ The expression on my father´s face perfectly displayed his anger and disappointment. Something inside me stirred at his insult and I wanted to protect Eris, so unconsciously my hands clenched into fists. „Why did you meet him?“ My mother tried to ease the tension by speaking in a calmer manner than her husband, but I just stood there, frozen, not looking at her.
Sharp talons scraped carefully along my mind, demanding to be let in, but the hurricane that protected my thoughts only tightened, sending my father´s claws away and causing him to flinch at the unexpected defence. I knew he wanted to know what had happened between Eris and me, but he also would never enter my thoughts without permission.
„Do you want to know why we´re not overly fond of him?“ He sighed, his tone was kinder this time, and my mother threw him a glance as if to say, `Are you sure?´
Do I really want to know why they don´t like him? Do I really want to know the answer to that? I wasn´t sure, but in the end my curiosity got the better of me and I nodded.
So they began.
They told me everything as the moonlight streamed in through the windows, illuminating my room with an eerie light. From Mor´s escape from Hewn City to what Eris had done to her and how Uncle Az had found her on that terrible day years ago. Also that Eris had once hunted my mother. They told me every detail.
„He left her. Eris simply left her on the ground with nothing but a note nailed to her stomach.“ My father´s darkness swirled in the corners of my room as my mother gently stroked his arm to calm him. „I will never forget the moment Azriel brought her back. How he held her in his arms. And I will never forget when he was hunting for your mother, how he…“ he hesitated. „What your father is trying to say, sweetheart, is that Eris is not a good man.“ My mother said. „He is no more a good man than his father. Which is another reason.“
I wanted to believe them. I wanted to believe that Eris was the awful man they told me he was, but I couldn´t forget the man I had met. The way he had laughed when we walked through the forest earlier. The way his eyes had lit up when he heard me laughing.
I couldn´t. I didn´t want to!
„The other reason we don´t like him, to put it mildly, is his father.“ She took a deep breath. „You must understand that Beron is... he is a cruel man, honey. High Lord or not.“ „The fact that Eris,“ my father clearly struggled with his next words, „is your mate means that you would live with him at Autumn Court because he´s the heir. But only if the bond snaps for you too.“ He came closer and cupped my shoulders, caressing them gently. „Starlight, don´t get me wrong. I´m more than happy that you´ve found your mate, it´s just that I wish it was someone more trustworthy.“ Slowly he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. „Your mother and I just want to know that you´re safe. And the Autumn Court is anything but.“ Both my parents pulled me into a tight embrace. I let myself be surrounded by their love and warmth, but there was still that feeling. A feeling hidden deep inside my soul that tried to protest. The perfect little daughter, aren´t you? Always obedient and quiet, huh? Before my inner critic got too powerful, I shoved those thoughts away.
„My little star, please promise us you won´t see him again? It´s only for your own safety, okay?“ They looked at me with longing in their eyes. Hoping that I would agree with them. Déjà-vu.
I took a deep breath, silenced my thoughts and looked straight at my parents. I will not back down. Not this time!
Fake happiness sneaked into my eyes and I nodded, making them sigh and give me each a kiss on the forehead. They just have to believe I won´t meet Eris again. But who said I´d actually do it? I wanted to know his side of the story and I would find out, even if it hurt.
With these thoughts, my parents wished me good night and left me alone in my room. I quickly washed myself, put on my pyjamas and lay down. My pillows enveloped me like cotton candy clouds and lulled me to sleep almost immediately.
The evening might have been imperfect in the end, but I wasn´t going to let the conversation with my parents ruin the wonderful experience with Eris. And as I thought about him, I soon drifted off into a pleasant sleep.
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It stared at me. The beast without eyes. The beast of many names. It stared. Devouring everything and everyone. Its waves tore at me like a rough wind on a stormy day. It tried to suffocate me. To steal my air. Help me! I need to breathe!
It circled around me and then...! A piercing pain shot through my entire being. It attacked. Again and again. Sinking its sharp claws into my flesh and knocking the air out of my lungs. I was drowning more and more in this all consuming place of nothingness. But this time... something had changed. Something inside me awakened. It growled and fought to get out.
Another cruel pain shot through me, making this creature inside me even angrier. And then I struck back. I kicked into the darkness around me. I kicked and punched in every direction when suddenly a gut-wrenching scream escaped from the depths of my soul and the blackness around me shook. Every fibre of my being trembled and the darkness ripped itself apart until I collapsed, completely exhausted.
My eyes were closed, waiting for the beast to strike again, but nothing happened. No sound, nor any noise could be heard. Just silence, floating like a boat on waves of crystal blue water, and my heavy breathing.
I slowly opened my eyes and sat up. My hands met the ground beneath me. Solid ground! The darkness was still there, but it wasn´t moving. As if watching what would happen next, and just as I was thinking about that, something caught my eye. I turned my head to see a tiny spark glittering in front of me. It flickered again and continued to spread. It grew and grew until a dazzling fire crackled just a few paces out of reach. The flames flickered wildly, and glowing sparks flew in every direction. But instead of backing away, I held up a hand and reached straight into the flames. It should have burned my palm. Burned my flesh down to the bones into ashes. But out of every scenario, it diminished. It calmed down, and its blinding flames retreated, only to reveal a bright orange pelt.
A fox. A little fox sat in front of me, staring at me with its big, black button eyes. It squeaked and sniffed in my direction. There was something familiar about it. The mischievous gleam in its eyes and the tiny, sharp-edged teeth that showed when it yawned. Cautiously he took a step forward. The tapping of his paws echoed through the brightening surroundings, and his fur shone as if it had been born of fire itself. What a beautiful little creature. He took a few more steps towards me and then lay down carefully in my lap. Completely amazed, I reached out to stroke its fluffy appearance. I was even more surprised when the little fox began to purr like a cat, interrupted now and then by a squeak.
I didn´t know where it was coming from, but soft rays of sunlight poured in and chased the shadowy beast back to where it had come from. Something settled deep in my chest and the little creature in my lap stroked its head against my hand. The light grew brighter by the second until my vision blurred.
✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦・✴︎✦
@tele86 @circe143 @impossibelle @st4r-girl-official @cherry-cin @lilah-asteria
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Happy 28th! Here is my April 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!
When All Is Said And Done by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 (76k)
“You must be thinking of another of your ex-husbands,” Louis snapped back, and Harry stilled, slowly turning to face him. There was something almost dangerous in Harry's look then but Louis stayed firm, not cowering away.
“Thankfully, I only have the misfortune of one ex-husband,” Harry said darkly, snatching up the plates and slamming them onto the table.
*****
Louis and Harry were married, but things fell apart, ending in divorce, broken hearts and separate lives. Years later, their paths cross once more, and time together forces old feelings to resurface. But is it too little, too late?
Greenhouses AU Series by TiredTiredTz / @tiredtiredtz (63k)
Glass Closets and Greenhouses (60k)
Charlton Athletic defender Louis Tomlinson and worldwide sex symbol Harry Styles are rumoured to be hooking up after a viral video filmed at Harry’s Wembley show was posted online by Tommo’s twin sisters.
Sources close to the pair tell us the couple have been dating for a while, with rumours of house hunting, marriage and even kids on the cards!
Styles, 29, is as well known for his whirlwind love life as his chart topping music. Most recently linked to British fashion designer Alex Millet-Sloan, Harry has stayed tight-lipped on rumours of any romantic rendezvous between himself and footballer Tomlinson, 31, yet fans online are convinced that all evidence points to #Tomlinstyles being the real deal.
Not Conditional (3k)
Harry is bald and this is how I’m coping.
Set a few years after the events of Glass Closets and Greenhouses.
It Feels Different When You’re With Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings (45k)
Harry fell in love with sign language as a kid. He never imagined the first love of his life would lead him straight to his second.
Every Lonely Place by HamPalpert (38k)
Facing the fact that he’s been prioritizing his career over his relationship, Harry proposes to his longtime boyfriend Louis on a whim. But when yet another work emergency takes precedence over their plans, Louis decides he’s had enough. Harry goes to bed drunk and alone, and when he wakes, he finds himself in an entirely different world. Over and over again, Harry visits a lifetime he’s once lived, across time and dimensions. And wherever there’s a Harry Styles, there’s a Louis Tomlinson.
The Act of Making Noise by suspendrs / @suspendrs (32k)
“Oh,” Harry frowns, waving him off. “No, I could never. I respect myself too much to sing for a living.”
It feels like a slap across the face, but Louis does his best not to stiffen, blinking once and then frowning. “What?”
“Those people are always so miserable, you know?” Harry says, hopping down off his stool and straightening his sweater. “There’s so much pressure on them, and they have to work so hard to keep up appearances, I can’t even imagine how difficult that is. I can’t even stand to listen to pop music today, let alone watch TV or read the magazines. It makes me so sad, thinking that those people, you know, the ones who actually went into it with heart, they only ever just wanted to make music and instead they got turned into things on leashes being paraded around to make money for other people,” he says. “Anyway, you can have the stool.”
Or, Louis's famous, Harry has no idea who he is, and they get snowed in together at a ski lodge in Vermont.
It’s About Time by kingsofeverything / @kingsofeverything (3k)
Best friends and roommates, Louis and Harry have been through a lot together, including law school for Louis, marriage and divorce for Harry. Their imminent eviction forces them to admit their feelings.
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Caught the L-O-V-E
masterlist
note: writing nonsense outros is the funnest thing ever
warnings: none :)
word count: 980
♡ summary: Quinn only falls more and more in love after going to his girlfriends concert
♡ Quinn Hughes x fem!reader
request ✓
The team was excited. They had been since Y/n insisted on giving them free tickets, some of the guys even brought their wives or girlfriends that were big fans. They were sat in the VIP tent, a couple fans had come to say ‘hi’ and Quinn got a few friendship bracelets he knew Y/n would love to see on the ride home.
Suddenly the screen behind started a countdown, causing the crowd to scream in excitement. And when the number got to zero out came the woman of the hour came out singing the opening lyrics of the first song.
“Unexpected, this thing that we fell into
Like, so connected
You came at a time when my heart was selective”
When she came into the light Quinn could finally fully see her, he’d seen the outfit backstage before the show but it looked even better in the spotlight. Her short white skirt complemented her tan skin and puffed out at her hips to accentuate her hips.
This song was written at the start of their relationship, he knew Y/n was nervous about what would happen when they had to be long distance after they made it official, but after hearing her concerns Quinn made it his job to constantly call and make it work. And it did.
When the first song came to an end and when the cheering died down, Y/n started talking to the crowd. Even after performing for so long, and getting to bigger and better stages, talking to fans was still her favourite part of the show.
“Hello, Vancouver! It’s so nice to meet you all! But I just have to point out, during that first song I saw a sign! I think it was over here!” She walked across to the other side out the stage, reading the signs as she meant along, finally stopping when she found it, “Yeah here it is! The sign says ‘I’d never make you get on top’ and that is so kind thank you so much!”
Quinn had always admired Y/n stage presence, the way when she was on stage or in front of a camera all eyes were on her. And of course her ability to be effortlessly funny. He admired her as she continued to talk to fans and about the next song, he knew the setlist like the back of his hand so he didn’t listen too hard to the explanation since he lived it.
He more so paid attention to the smile that was on her face, she was in her element and he loved seeing her on stage, just like how she loves watching him play. Her hair cascaded down her back, the curls were shiny in the bright lights, her bangs were perfect as always as well as the pieces that framed her face beautifully.
What eventually broke him from his loving gaze was the crowd yelling the lyrics to a song written about him.
“He’s good for my heart, but he’s bad for business”
He admired her more, loving the sound of her voice and her subtle dance moves, mostly the sway of her hips. After that song song and many more it was the second to last song of the night. Really Quinn was just thankful that after this son he could go backstage and wait to meet Y/n as soon as she gets off.
“Think I only want one number in my phone!”
He loved watching his girl dance on stage to this song, he loved watching how much fun she had and how much fun the fans had singing along. He looked around at his group and it seemed the Canuck’s girls were having just as much fun. And the Canucks had fun patting Quinn on the back during the song.
“I caught the L-O-V-E
How do you do this to me?”
That, despite popular belief, was his favourite line of the song. Because it was when she first showed him this song that she said she loved him. Her own, right on brand, silly way of telling him and he loved her for that. She made it even better by looking at him while she sang it, neither told anyone of how they first said it, it was just between them.
“Woke up this morning thought I’d write a-!” “POP HIT”
“How quickly can you take your clothes off!” “POP QUIZ!”
Everyone quieted down when it got to the time of the outro, the most anticipated and shared part of the show.
“He said that I taste like sugar, he’s a little younger, don't call me a cougar, c’mon you know I love you, Vancouver!”
The words about his age caused him to lower his head, while shaking it, laughing under his breath and a rose colour coming to his cheeks. The security came over after the outro to escort him backstage. Which he was happy about since it meant he didn’t have to stick around for any teasing from his teammates.
He got to catch the last few lines of Y/n’s closing number from backstage, they directed him to where she was supposed to leave the stage so he could see her first. Which he did.
She yelled her goodbyes and sent for her kisses to the crowd as she disappeared backstage and as soon as she saw Quinn she ran to him, he lifted her up so her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms were around his neck, he supported her under her thighs.
“You were amazing, baby.” “Thank you. I love you!” “I love you too, so much. I’m so proud of you.”
She brought her face out of his neck and leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, not caring about the crew that could see them, she only cared about him. And him about her.
#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes x female reader#quinn hughes x fem!reader#quinn hughes x fem reader#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes x famous!reader#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes imagine
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HOME pt. 3
Jin x Reader
Summary: You and Jin discover that you are expecting your first child, but are faced with challenges that neither of you could imagine.
Warnings: topics related to pregnancy that could be considered controversial.
I had been procrastinating on going to my first ultrasound appointment since I found out about my pregnancy. The first time I went to the doctors I found out I was 9 weeks pregnant to the day. I got the doctor to set up my ultrasound a week after so I could get back to Jin and tell him the exciting news; however, since that appointment I had been pushing it back more and more. After feeling the pain I felt the other day I knew it was no longer wise, but I had my reasonings.
I found out my pregnancy was high risk for one. I really wanted this baby and having rh-negative blood, I knew there were additional risks that I would face. Although Jin was still on the fence, he knew I was set in my ways. He also knew I could not be walking around pregnant with only blood work confirming and no ultrasound. Another reason I was nervous was because the ultrasound would make it real. I was really pregnant. Jin was really going to be a father. I was really going to get married. I really could die.
I was sitting on the couch when Jin walked in from his gaming room. I just got done booking an appointment on my phone for the doctors later on today. Luckily, there was a cancellation so I could go. Jin sat on the couch looking at me and then the TV. I knew what that meant causing me to turn it off.
“When can you go?” He said.
“I got an appointment for later today. Can you come? I understand if you can’t.”
“I’ll be able to come.” The room fell silent. I had something on my mind but didn’t want to be the one to address it. I love Jin, but I had questions circling in my mind over the whole marriage ordeal. Maybe he asked to marry me because I was pregnant. Maybe it wasn’t out of love but pity. In my mind, it felt like my insecurities were showing. I am happy with Jin and I think he is happy with me, but everything was happening at once.
“Did you mean it?” I blurted. He raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips in confused. “Did you mean it when you asked me to marry you?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?” He said directly without any hesitation.
“We never talked about it before. I don’t know, it felt weird.” I didn’t know how to word it properly. Admittedly, I was scared of marrying Jin now. Before I would have been eager, but there was a chance he could be a single father or a widower before a year into marriage.
“I love you y/n. This situation doesn’t change that. I’d rather us get married, forbid something happen, and not me feel the joys of being your husband.” He turned his eyes away and cleared his throat. “I’m gonna get ready now.” He got up and went into our bedroom to get changed.
Two hours later we were finally at the doctors office. I sat in the doctors chair waiting. Jin had on his face mask in attempt to disguise who he was. Early on in our relationship we decided that we wanted to keep our relationship a secret. I wasn’t ready to be in the spotlight nor did I need that stress, especially now.
Jin held my hand as we continued to wait. I watched as his thumb rubbed against my hand. It reminded me of all those times he would hold my hand when he was unsure. The doctor walked in the room smiling. He felt welcoming which calmed my nerves some. The nurse had already prepared the station and it was time to see our baby.
The doctor started the ultrasound. I was 12 weeks and four days. I looked at the monitor and noticed something off. I tried to get a closer look but the doctor clarified what I was seeing.
“It looks like you are having twins. It won’t be for another week until you find out the gender, but you are having two babies. Congratulations.” I looked over at Jin whose eyes had widen. The doctor continued, “Now, you are high risk so I am having you be put on bed rest. Minimal movement and since you are rh-negative, depending on your babies blood type it can present risks during birth since this is your first pregnancy. As of now, you are okay. Has anything weird happened or concerns either of you might have?”
“No.” I responded quickly in attempt to silence anything Jin could say. I didn’t want him to tell the doctor what happened earlier that week.
“She felt a sharp pain that caused her to fall to the floor the other day.”
“Okay. We can run some test before you leave and get them back to you no later than tomorrow. Until then take it easy and enjoy this time.” The doctor took a pause. “I know it can be scary with a pregnancy like this, but we will do everything we can to keep you and your babies safe.“
Jin and I got back into our car. I felt like I was about to get scolded. The look on his face was scarred yet stern. He kept his eyes on the road.
“You’re staying home. If you need anything we will figure it out. I can’t have you out and our babies, our babies.” He spaced out for a moment. “I can’t lose you y/n.” The tears came. It was clear that he was trying to stay strong for me, but holding it in was becoming too painful. I was his safe space and I for once couldn’t do anything to make it better.
I felt like I was making a mistake in that moment. Maybe I wasn’t thinking. We could try again but the outcome could still be the same. I knew this journey was not going to be easy.
Jin got himself together. I stayed silent. I felt horrible about my inability to speak. I looked down at my stomach which already had the slightest bump because of our twin babies. I started out the window, waiting for us to get home.
Once we arrived home, I made my way to our bedroom. Might as well get a head start on that bed rest. Jin stayed in the living room for a while. After thirty minutes, of doom scrolling on my phone, I saw his figure at the doorway.
“Twins.” He said as I smiled at him. He got on the bed. He pulled me close to him. “We’re going to do this together. All of us.” I suddenly felt at ease, like all the worry melted out of my body. All that thinking I had been doing was gone. Jin said what I desperately needed to hear.
#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts reactions#bts reader#bts x reader#bts#bts jin#jin x reader#jin imagine#jin#kim soekjin#soekjin x reader#bts soekjin
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seven degrees east - chapter six
Fandom: Masters of the Air
Pairings: multiple
Rating: E
Chapter: 6 / ?
Word Count: 5048
read on tumblr: one | two | three | four | five
It had started with a shove, John’s flat palm meeting Curt’s chest, warm through his shirt.
No, it had started with one, two, three drinks (and counting?), John aware he was in the wrong mindset to be drinking, but slinging them down his throat anyhow.
Well, no, it had started several days ago, on a night that had engaged all John’s senses. Smell: chemicals, cleaning products, a mopped tile floor. Sound: a cascading splash. Touch: the surprisingly sharp edges of a plastic toilet seat. Taste: bile, sour, coating his tongue. Sight: the one his mind’s eye had insisted on rewinding and replaying, rewinding and replaying, like a VHS tape. Gale and Curt in that classroom. The eagerness of Gale’s body language in particular. The two of them, kissing, kissing, kissing in John’s head as he bent it over the bowl and heaved.
Fast forward and there was John grinning after the shove, smug like he’d already won—ironic, when he felt like the loss of Gale had been the most agonizing of his life. He cocked his head to the side, tough guy, taunting Curt with his body the way he believed he’d been taunted by Curt’s, all tangled up in his best friend’s. People were turning, people were looking. The look on Curt’s face was reluctant, but John didn’t like that. What he liked was how Curt’s body had gone tense. Yes, he thought. He danced forward and tapped Curt’s chest with just his fingertips this time, then danced back.
Curt was still restraining himself, smiling over clenched teeth, so John said, “Hit me.”
“Why?” Curt asked, like John’s demand was exhausting.
John’s eyes glittered with rage and alcohol.
“You fuckin’ know why,” he said, quieter. The coming fight? Sure, he was alright with that being for the assembling audience, but the point of it was for he and Curt alone.
Curt didn’t move, and John wasn’t proud of himself then; he began to berate his erstwhile friend, to insult him. It made him feel like shit to say the things he said, but like the vomit he’d spewed into that toilet, the words just kept coming up. He had a feeling his body might not stop until he got them all out, and he had no idea how many were in there, all jammed up in his esophagus, all packed tight around his heart.
Apparently, they could be halted by an outside force: Curt’s fist connected with his jaw.
There was the zing of pain, then, confusingly, the sound of knuckles making contact seemed to come to John afterwards. He blinked, disoriented, and was slightly humiliated to find himself hunched over, cupping his face. He glanced up at Curt—who looked torn between pale remorse and a pissed-off flush over the dickish things John had just been saying—and grinned through the ache. He groaned loudly as he straightened up.
“Again,” he said. “Bitch.”
Again, time fell out of order. John would’ve sworn he’d felt the crack that stingingly clipped his cheekbone before he watched Curt’s shoulder drop to throw the hit.
The crowd went wooooah as John staggered back. He touched his face for blood, but found none when he examined his fingertips. His skin felt hot though. His eyes met Curt’s once more. Now it was Curt who appeared to be in pain. The anger had flown from his face like a helium balloon from a child’s careless fist. Perversely, John began trying to soothe him.
“It’s ok, Curt, I don’t even feel it,” he promised. What he did feel was rain. It was beginning to come, a faint patter that dotted his face and pinged off the patio table.
Curt didn’t seem to know what to do, but John did. Now, he could fight back. He could take two hits like two shots of tequila, chased with a wince but not the end of the night. He stepped towards Curt. However he was behaving, John was smart enough to know not to take his eyes off his opponent—especially one he’d seen in action in the past, though never against him. That was the reason why he didn’t notice someone shouldering the other spectators aside. Abruptly, there was a warm hand on his chest, and John turned with a little confusion and a lot of annoyance. His emotions spiderwebbed like cracked glass when he saw it was Gale’s hand on him. So possessive all of a sudden. It made John laugh. It wasn’t a nice sound.
“Fuck off,” he said lightly.
But Gale grabbed his shirt and half spun him away from Curt. It worked because John hadn’t been expecting it. Oh, now Gale wanted to touch him? Now Gale wanted somebody else to play rough with? Didn’t he have Curt for that?
“You fucking fuck off,” Gale uttered under his breath, face startlingly close to John’s. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Settling something,” John said shortly. He pushed Gale away, but Gale’s grip was strong, tugging his shirt.
“You’re smarter than this.”
“I said, fuck off.” John wrenched Gale’s hand free and turned away from him. Curt was still standing there, and with his chin, John urged him forward. This time, he raised his fists too.
But Gale got in the way, got in between.
“Christ, John,” he snapped. “Fight the right person if you wanna fight so bad!”
This stalled John. He looked between Curt and Gale a few times before sticking with Gale.
“What?”
“You’re not mad at Curt—”
John released a derisive laugh.
“—you’re mad at me,” Gale finished. “So take it out on me.”
John attempted to sidestep him to get to his target—the rain was falling harder, the grass was getting slick underfoot—but Gale matched him, as if they were dancing. His hand was back on John’s chest. It kept the middle of his t-shirt dry.
“Don’t hit Curt,” Gale said steadily. “Hit me.”
“I don’t want to hit you,” John said, just above a whisper.
Gale matched his volume when he replied, “Yes you do.”
He didn’t though, and felt angry all over again at Gale if Gale didn’t know that. He never wanted to hurt Gale, never Gale. Or maybe he did, but not with his fists. John didn’t think that was cruel enough for what Gale had so thoughtlessly done to him.
“It was once, John. It was once.” Gale’s voice was soft and insistent, his eyes working hard to hold John’s, who tried over and over to glance away and sneer, to signal that this was all bullshit, beneath him. He pretended he’d barely heard so that he wouldn’t have to actually listen and understand.
John turned away from them both. As he walked away, Bubbles appeared at his side, offering to get ice for the side of his face that was probably red, was probably already bruising. John just shook his head and pounded up the back stairs into the house, ignoring Bubbles’ heavy sigh.
—
He’d missed the whole thing. That was what Nash would learn later—not at the party, not on the ride back to campus, but outside the dorms the next day, when he would corner Bubbles and ask what the hell had happened. (Specifically, why did John’s face look like that?) By the time John had started egging Curt on, Nash had been long gone. Gone from the backyard, gone from earshot, gone, frankly, from that plane of reality. Where he’d gone was Helen’s room, and even later, once he’d been filled in, he would be happy with his choice.
After inhabiting the dorm with the boys, Helen’s living space was a revelation to Nash. Granted, as roommates went, Rosie was tidy, and his prized record collection and player weren’t exactly clutter. But Helen’s bedroom was an explosion of femininity. If there were a feminist way to have that thought, then that was the way Nash was having it. Like an eclipse, the serious covers of Helen’s second-wave feminist texts dominated her bookshelves and bedside table, but a more traditionally girly aesthetic played around the edges of Fear of Flying and Our Bodies, Ourselves. He saw a Blondie poster. He saw a jewellery box. He saw a pair of perfume bottles that to his eye resembled magical elixirs, and which almost immediately became unimportant as he gathered Helen in his arms and smelled the scent on her neck.
He didn’t kiss her, not quite, not yet. He thought she probably wanted him to (because of the way he’d spoken to her outside, because of the way she’d slipped her hand into his and given it an urgent tug), and it wasn’t the shrine to the feminist movement that was holding him back. No, Nash thought that was pretty incredible, and that a woman who knew her rights and respected her body (and, equally, respected her rights and knew her body) was to be worshipped, not feared. What held him off was a feeling of connection he didn’t think he could explain in words. Oh, Nash had seen it before. He’d seen it between Julia Roberts and Richard Gere, Jennifer Grey and Patrick Swayze, Winona Ryder and Ethan Hawke. But never in his own life. When Helen spoke, he only wanted to listen. When he leaned towards Helen, she leaned in too. There was something, Nash thought, to how she made him feel confident and bashful at the same time. There was certainly something to his hand on her back, just then, and her hands sliding over his shoulders before she hooked her wrists at the nape of his neck.
“If you want me to kiss you,” he said, smiling because he couldn’t help it, “just say so.”
Helen smiled back knowingly. Her face came closer, nose almost skimming his.
“Maybe I want to be the one to kiss you.”
“I think I could handle that.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I could not feel less threatened by the idea of you taking the lead,” Nash swore.
“And instead you feel…?” Helen’s eyebrows rose with amusement as she awaited his response.
It came quickly (quicker than Nash was hoping to as things progressed): “Turned on.”
Her laugh was sudden, clear, and genuine. It made him beam, his eyes roaming her face to absorb the beauty of how hers squinted shut in delight, how her head fell back. Everything he was feeling wedged in his throat, but it wasn’t painful, and he didn’t mind when Helen trapped it there by pressing her mouth against his.
Heat surged up in Nash, and maybe he could hear voices rising from the backyard now, but they were faint, muffled by Helen’s bedroom window—which was closed, like her door. A house full of people and they were a world away. Characters like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn had to climb over their picket fences and push away from their familiar riverbanks to find adventure. Not Nash. A Twainian impishness guided the quick kisses he gave back to Helen, traded like Magic: The Gathering cards. It was playful, how he moved from kissing her mouth to kissing her face, how her lips found his jaw, then ran lower, making him shiver as she sucked his neck. His shirt came off first, and by the time they had swayed and shuffled their way over to her twin bed, he was brushing the skirt up her thighs as he sat back and she climbed onto his lap.
Helen rubbed him through denim before undoing his jeans. Nash was overwhelmed by how good it was—not just her touch, but the breathy yeses that seemed to vent his pleasure from her mouth.
“You’re unreal,” he said.
Helen smiled.
“What do you mean?”
Her hand was inside his boxers now, tucked away like a secret. She stroked him and he kept his eyes on hers as he moaned. He watched her cheeks turn the colour of the empty raspberry bin he’d seen—to his disappointment—at the grocery store yesterday: a dark pink stain.
“I don’t—I don’t know,” Nash babbled. He couldn’t quit staring at her, astride him. There were freckles on her thighs, just above her knees, that told a story of sitting outside in the sun. “‘We dream in our waking moments, and walk in our sleep,’” he offered in hopeless, lovestruck explanation.
“The Scarlet Letter,” Helen said, and then she kissed him deeply and let him hold her close to roll her onto her back.
She slipped off her underwear, but then he was too impatient to wait for the removal of her skirt, which had buttons. He ate her out with the skirt flipped up like an umbrella inverted in a stiff breeze. Her groans were low and caused the hair on his arms to stand on end. When he lightened his licks to make her chase him, Helen simply grabbed the back of his head to make him, in turn, stop teasing her. Nash smiled between her legs.
An orgasm later, they flipped for who got to provide the condom. Heads (appropriately): Nash. Tails: Helen. This, they decided, would be the most equitable method.
Nash was so excited he fumbled the flip and the coin rolled away under Helen’s bed. They laughed and got on with things. They didn’t really need a coin to tell them they were equals; he never treated her like she was anything less. Naked between her baby-blue sheets, Nash was more than happy to take the condom he was handed.
—
John could hear the sounds coming from behind the closed bedroom door at the end of the hall and hoped one of his friends was lucky enough to be responsible for half of them. He was willing to give his blessing because, whoever was in there, he knew it wasn’t Curt and Gale.
He wasn’t listening on purpose—god no. He’d come to use the upstairs bathroom instead of waiting for the one downstairs. On the way up, John had passed Crosby on the steps. He hadn’t tried to give Crosby any particular look, but Crosby’s face had flushed with something that might have been guilt or shame or just enjoyment. John’s gaze had shifted to Sandra, who was coming down after Crosby, but her face gave absolutely nothing away. Quickly, John had decided he didn’t want to know, he didn’t fucking want to know. He didn’t want to be a guy who knew things—or, especially, saw things—anymore.
“Croz,” he’d said.
“John.”
Seeing Crosby with Sandra, no matter what it meant, had turned John abruptly morose. He was alone at a party. He had shunned Bubbles, lost track of Nash, goaded Curt into hitting him, and Gale… Gale was a hazy, angry fog John wasn’t ready to feel his way into. The night was sunk, as far as he was concerned, so he’d elected to play to his strengths until it was time to leave: he would get very, very drunk.
“Can I get my keys?” John had requested, sticking out his palm.
Crosby had studied him while pretending not to. John had rolled his eyes.
“I’m not going to drive. I just want some fuckin’ peace and quiet.”
He did not look at Sandra. He didn’t know her, but he didn’t need her to know that he planned to lift a bottle of something clear from the kitchen and go drink it alone in his jeep. Thankfully, Crosby had obliged without voicing a guess at John’s likely movements.
John used the bathroom (these girls had nice-smelling soap) and wended his way back downstairs. Alcohol acquired, he went towards the front door. He didn’t remember about Rosie and Liss until he was close enough to see out the door’s window that they were still sitting on the front step, sheltered from the rain and staring into one another’s eyes. John swallowed, feeling a pressure in his sinuses he attributed to the change in weather.
After retreating, he discovered a door from the house into the garage. He went in and shut the door behind him. When he turned, he discovered he was not alone.
She had pale blonde hair, and at first, John thought she was standing in the rain. The garage door was open, the damp seeping across the concrete pad, the stranger, the woman, positioned like a sentinel between indoors and out. Because she had her back to him and the violence of the rainstorm had just increased—seemingly right as John stepped into the garage (would the boys from the backyard go into the house now, would they wonder where he was?)—he realized she mustn’t have known he was there until he was next to her. She flinched, but barely, and then her stare was cool.
“Another social butterfly,” he said sarcastically, smiling to show he meant no harm, and that he included himself in that particular club.
“Maybe that’s it,” she allowed. “Maybe my wings are too wet to fly inside.”
She appraised him then, taking in the vodka. They’d each taken a slug from the mouth of the bottle before they bothered with names.
“Paulina,” she told him.
“Bucky.” He didn’t want to hear this beautiful, guarded woman say “John.”
“A strange name.”
He shrugged, then asked, “Bride or groom?”
Paulina frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“Sorry,” John said. “Whose guest are you at this thing? Who do you know inside?”
“Ah. All three of the girls, but Sandra most. Maybe you don’t have as many friends here as I do?” She pointed at the parts of his face that were sore.
He huffed a laugh.
“Nah, a friend did this, believe it or not.” It was the simplest explanation. “How do you know Sandra?”
Paulina watched him warily, but said, “We are both graduate students in the School of Politics, she in International Security, I in International Relations. I came here from Poland to study, as I’m sure you can hear.”
“Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but I don’t exactly sound local either.”
She raised the bottle to toast that, and they both took another swallow. John wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He liked how she watched him.
“So,” he said, “International Relations.” His tone was not flirtation-free.
“That’s right.”
“What about domestic relations? You got a boyfriend?”
“Why, do you want to sleep with me?” Paulina asked bluntly.
John laughed and grinned.
“I’d kinda like the answer to my question before I answer yours,” he said.
“I did,” she replied at last. “But now he’s dead.”
“He’s dead?” Bucky repeated, aghast and uncertain he’d heard her right. He had to wait until Paulina’d had another drink to hear her response.
“To me,” she clarified. “What about you? Someone here? Back in America maybe?”
John smiled tightly and said, “Unattached.”
“Not as dramatic as me,” Paulina noted.
“No.”
“Or lying.”
“Yeah,” John allowed, taking the bottle back. “Possibly lying. To myself.”
“That’s moronic,” she pronounced as he drank. “Now you answer my question: do you want to sleep with me?”
John swallowed.
“Sleep? No. I’d like to fuck you though, if you’d be interested in that.”
Paulina returned the look he then gave her with a level one of her own. Despite his words, John lost his nerve a little in the face of her frankness and lifted the vodka again to his lips for cover, but she caught his wrist and guided his hand back down. Suddenly, they were making out—heated, hungry—and the nearest raindrops shone in the garage light while the rest could only be heard falling in the dark, making it look as though the rain fell only around them. But no one looked, no one saw, and Paulina’s hands were on John’s chest, and John’s hands were on Paulina’s back, his index finger hooked around the mouth of the bottle.
She wore a top the colour of a dove in the shade, an impervious urban grey, with a low, square neckline and cap sleeves. John pulled one of those little sleeves off her shoulder, then kissed the skin he’d revealed. She didn’t smell like anything much, but the scent of rain invaded, turning the air around them earthy and herbaceous.
“You know,” he told the crook where Paulina’s shoulder met her neck. “I was just supposed to be passing through.”
“On your way to…?”
“My jeep. It’s parked right there.” He straightened and pointed it out to her, there at the curb. The Wrangler sat beyond the reach of the porchlight, under the shade of the night and the majestic beech tree that grew on the front lawn. Its windows were dark. Too dark to see inside.
“You know my answer to your question,” John reminded her, spreading his arms. Take me or leave me. Help me or hurt me, I think I can still take it.
“Alright,” Paulina decided. “I’m bored of the party, and you seem sweet.”
“What’d I say to give you that impression?”
She smiled and touched a finger to his lips.
“It’s when you stop talking.”
Her eyes were significantly kinder than her words. John almost wanted to ask about the other guy, the ex-boyfriend, but that would leave him more open than he felt he could currently bear. He handed her the vodka, dug the keys he’d retrieved from Crosby from his pocket, and they made a run for the Wrangler along the side of the driveway farthest from the front door, where other parked cars would shield them from view.
Inside the jeep, Paulina was as eager as John. He leaned forward from the back seat to deposit the bottle on the floor by the pedals, then they set about single-mindedly shedding their own clothes and each other’s. John pulled a condom from his wallet—stowed there with miserable intent—and grunted when Paulina sat in his lap and guided him inside her.
Her style (at least with him) was slow and in-control, rolling her hips in a way that reminded him, second by second, how long it’d been since he’d last gotten laid. He just hadn’t been looking. Rather than recalling a single moment when he might’ve decided to give celibacy a shot, John could only remember Gale. Nights with Gale, days with Gale. Gale’s smile he worked so hard to earn. Gale’s fair hair…
At John’s urging, he and Paulina rearranged so they were no longer face to face with her blonde hair swishing with each rise and fall. She was on her hands and knees. He was behind her, hunched below the ceiling, thrusting harder, the windows fogging because they were both panting. The steady, soothing rhythm of rain beat the jeep’s roof. John could forget; he could let himself. It wasn’t hard, he’d been reminded, to find someone and just feel good for a while. Feel like a whole person. Every time he sunk into Paulina, stomach tightening as he snapped his hips forward, John was looking for him, that scattered self of his, that Peter Pan shadow to sew back onto the soles of his feet.
He was getting close, reaching down to fondle Paulina’s breasts, cursing when it made her clench around his cock. Bent as he was, John tipped his face back, breathing hard. His hips seemed to shuttle all on their own now. And then something harder than rain struck the window of the jeep. John thought it was probably a fallen branch—maybe not so smart to park under the big old beech during a storm. Half-dazed with the impending release that was sure to turn him inside out (maybe that would be where he felt complete), he swung his head around to see if the window behind him had been chipped or cracked. It was all fogged up, and he couldn’t tell, so he wiped the sweat from his forehead and the condensation from the window, swirling his palm on the cool plastic. Gale’s face appeared beyond the hazy smear.
John instinctually doubted that it was real. He was hammered, he was about to come, and the face was surrounded by a green glow. It was just the porchlight refracting off the beech tree’s leaves, but John had read The Great Gatsby half a dozen times, so seeing just refracted light was impossible; he saw longing—dangerous, delusional, and yet lifechanging longing. When Gale shifted, John knew he was real. He knew that he too had been seen as Gale peered through the window he had just wiped clear.
It happened so quickly—that the face appeared, that John stilled in shock—but Paulina was close too, and she moved when he didn’t. She flung her hips back against his. He was staring straight at Gale when his eyebrows drew together and his mouth dropped open and he came with a sound like he’d been punched in the gut. With the streaky window between them, it was Gale who appeared soft-edged and insubstantial while John felt solid and grounded; his arms around Paulina’s waist; his knees, toes, and the balls of his feet on the jeep’s cloth seat; his cock, of course, deep inside the woman his body mostly blocked from Gale’s view. It was an epic disaster, and it was a staggering revelation.
Gale stumbled backwards, out of sight, and John, somehow both buzzing and numb, swivelled back to Paulina and slid his hand down between her legs to rub hard at her clit until she came too.
Afterwards, they put their underwear back on and quietly and companionably shared the back seat. Paulina sat and drank a little more, offhandedly mentioning her ex, idly wondering what he was doing just then, wondering if her friends back home had told him when she’d moved away. John laid on his back with his knees bent up, his head on Paulina’s lap. He smoked. He thought about Gale. He was troubled by the fact that he couldn’t remember what expression Gale had worn at the instant of realization. Had Gale looked uncomfortable, embarrassed, upset, fed-up? The moment had come and it had gone, so selfishly, John thought, and it had left him to examine everything he’d unsuccessfully attempted to repress—with simmering silence in their dorm, with alcohol, with the force of Curt’s fist driving into his face. Right then, he felt none of what he’d been carrying around since the night at the Barracks. He felt only a sense of peace. He exhaled.
—
Gale’s mind was full of rats, and all the rats were running. It was pure Pinky and the Brain up there, only Gale didn’t know the scheme and he couldn’t tell the smart rats from the stupid, the evil rats from the benign. He only felt as though his skull were a housing for constant, nonsensical motion.
Externally, he was sitting next to John in the back of the Wrangler. They coasted smoothly along in the dark. Crosby and Bubbles were up front, the latter behind the wheel. Somewhere on the road ahead of them was Curt, driving Rosie’s car. Nash hadn’t bothered responding from behind Helen’s bedroom door, but Rosie had put in a disheveled appearance after emerging from Liss’s room, grinning and tossing Curt the keys. Rosie and Nash would get a ride back to campus the following day. “Lucky sons a’ bitches,” Curt had proclaimed, smile belying his resentful words.
Gale had chosen the back seat on purpose, because he knew something the boys in the front didn’t, and he had chosen this side on purpose too: he sat where John had kneeled. John had said nothing as they’d opened opposite doors, as they’d climbed into the back, as they’d buckled in. He had only (and quickly) asked the boys to unzip their windows in order to circulate the air, probably hoping, Gale knew, that Bubbles and Crosby wouldn’t smell anything besides the stale scent of cigarettes and warm, wet pavement from the rain that continued to lightly fall. It was misting through the windows, and Gale could feel the fine spray if he leaned towards the door.
Occasionally, a car would pass, headed in the other direction, and Gale would see raindrops caught in their headlights. They appeared from nowhere, from blackness, disappeared into the same, but in between, gave the illusion of being miraculously suspended. Shining like crystals on a chandelier.
He'd seen himself in the window first, before he’d realized John was inside. Gale’s eyes had glanced across his own fuzzy reflection. He’d seen himself and thought, Failure. He’d been mad at first, mad that John had unleased whatever the hell that had been in the backyard, sniping at Curt until he’d thrown a punch, then a second one. But once he’d made sure Curt was alright—and he was; alarmed, annoyed, but alright—all Gale had wanted was to find John. He’d flicked the jeep’s window and, not seeing John emerge immediately, had felt defeated that he’d only managed to discover another John-less location. Just his own blurry portrait staring back at him from the thick plastic window. And then: John.
And Gale had left him because he hadn’t been able to stand it, because he’d understood, because running away was the wiser second impulse that had followed his initial one. Which had been to yank open the door. Gale hadn’t acted on it, but he’d had his hand on the handle. He remembered the rain-slicked metal in his grip. He remembered, just as clearly, the feeling that had flooded him when he’d seen that entirely new expression on John’s face. If it was what John had been feeling since the other night, Gale didn’t know how John had shunned him all this time. He didn’t want to avoid him; it was why he hadn’t ridden in Rosie’s car with Curt.
It was after midnight, the interior of the jeep drowsy and full of the sound of the wet road rushing past under their wheels. In the dark, Gale’s fingers crept across the seat and stopped just shy of touching John’s. It was jealousy he had felt. It was a sudden certainty that John was his.
Gale watched with longing as John pressed his cheek to the plastic window and tilted his face to feel the rain.
#my writing#seven degrees east#MotA#Masters of the Air#MotA fic#John 'Bucky' Egan#Bucky x Buck#Curtis Biddick#Gale 'Buck' Cleven#Joseph 'Bubbles' Payne#Herbert Nash#Helen (MotA)#Paulina (MotA)#Harry Crosby#Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal
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So uh... what are some animated indie stuff that you like to watch?
For me its satina, humans b gone, and the june archives (technically an arg but ehh)
LACKADAISY.
Yeah, it's just a pilot. I have to admit I don't watch a lot of indie animation (hard for me to get into new things; I was technically never in the Helluva fandom either, my friend just wrote a lot about it so I followed along the first season). But I've been a fan of this webcomic for the past few years, so latest pointless drama aside, I'll stick up for that one until my dying breath. It's a goddamn masterpiece, I'm super happy that the Backerkit has made two million, and I remain hyped as all hell for the first season.
I also simp really hard for one of the characters. Crushes tend to help me stick around.
I've watched the Satina pilot and the first episode, though it was a long while back. I think I enjoyed it. Has any more of it come out yet?
#asks answered#is Salad Fingers indie animation? I've watched all of Salad Fingers to date#then again I'm not really ''into'' that either. though it's fascinating in a gross horrific way (complimentary)#I've always been into more studio-made stuff. WOY. Invader Zim. Gravity Falls. Villainous before the first season#not that it fell off after that I just never got around to watching it#I'm kinda lazy when it comes to new media hahah#I guess you wouldn't call Happy Tree Friends indie either? though with that one I was more about fanon than canon#I apologize if this is an underwhelming answer. I tend to hyperfixate on a select few completely unrelated things#and Helluva just so happens to be an indie show on YouTube#I think I also watched- CLIFFSIDE. The Cliffside pilot. that never became anything either huh#I've seen some nice opinions around on Long Gone Gulch so maybe I'll give that a shot too#aforementioned friend is into Murder Drones nowadays. which also is famously great. I'll have to check it out#and add to that the stuff you mentioned#see this is why I never get around to anything. my fun-things-to-watch list is unfathomably long and I get choice paralysis#admin talks
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I did so much today and none of it was homework but I DID sign up for ice skating lessons again and this is it I can feel it, this is the year I do a forward crossover without eating shit.
#local blogger sucks shit at ice skating but has a can do attitude!!!#i took lessons for almost two years and never managed and my teacher eventually passed me from her class bc it was so demoralizing for her#for someone to fail that many consecutive classes but still show up each week#but then my insomnia got really bad and i was just physically too weak to take lessons at 8am and had to quit#and then the pandemic hit and all the rinks closed for like almost a year and then i just never went back#but my body is atrophying and i hate going to the gym bc it's boring. my friends were like well do something that will keep you accountable#and so i'm back at it ready to fail for another two years!!!#sadly it is at sharks ice and not my little community rink that closes during the summer#which is horrifying. if i fall in front of the barracuda again i am never going to a game again#did i tell you all abt the time i was walking out of sharks ice after going to a public skate#and they had a big crane in the parking lot and i got distracted looking it at it#and tripped off the sidewalk and nearly fell#and then turned around and it was literally the entire sjsu hockey team walking out of the rink just staring me#i was like damn sorry you're too cool to be interested in construction equipment#like find your joy. it's a big crane with a huge ass piece of steal. how is that not worth looking at 😤#similar to the time i was skating at a public skate and tripped and looked up and members of barracuda were just there. watching from above#the opposite of a meet cute. a meet fail#i was like well this will be funny when i retell it to my uncles#and i told my uncles later and one of them laughed so hard he had to stop eating dinner bc he was afraid he would choke#and that's on san jose hockey!#fresno oilers.txt
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Man child Gojo Satoru
synopsis: you and Gojo have a newborn, and he's jealous of the little brat taking up all your attention
cont: fem reader, established relationship, dirty talk, lactation kink (very brief), gojo is a big baby, oral(f!r), masturbation, jealousy
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ
You press a kiss to the little boy's head, his pretty white hair resembling that of his father's tickling your cheek as you pull away. You place your hands on the side of the crib and smile at the little man before you walk out of his room, leaving the door slightly cracked as you leave.
You and Satoru had placed the baby's room adjacent to your own so you could hear him crying easily, it also made you feel better about being so close to him. He was your whole world, aside from the other man baby who was currently standing in your bedroom doorway with his arms crossed, only dressed in a white t-shirt and tight boxers.
Satoru opened his arms as he welcomed your embrace, your body falling against his as you melted against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Every day I thank the gods we didn't end up with a fussy baby. He goes to sleep so easy." Gojo smiled, placing his chin on the top of your head.
You pulled your head off of his chest and looked at him deadpan, "and he sure as hell didn't get that from you." you jabbed before pulling away and slipping under his arm as you entered your bedroom. Satoru was hot on your tail, turning on his heels quickly he kicked the bedroom door shut, following you in your pursuit towards the bed.
"Are you tryna pick a fight with me right now?" Gojo teased, raising his eyebrows as your body bounced on the bed as you sat on the edge. Your eyes followed his as he quickly made his way between your legs, standing between them. You shut your eyes as Gojo cupped your face, his fingers caressing the skin of your cheeks and neck soothingly. You hummed at his comforting touch, letting your hands instinctually reach out and rest weakly against his hips.
"I have no energy to fight with you." You responded, leaning your head against one of Gojo's palms as he kept up the touch, his watchful eyes taking in the gorgeous expanse of your tired face. Gojo hummed, his pitch raising in a question, "You? Have no energy to fight with me?" Gojo asked in astonishment, letting out a small giggle at his own words.
You nodded, obviously sleepy enough that you were even unable to respond to his teasing. "Awww, poor baby." Gojo cooed, trying to hide his teasing tone behind faux sympathy. Your hands fell to his hair as he got down on his knees slowly, one leg after the other, until his chest was pressed against the side of the bed as he laid between your legs.
"Want me to help you relax, mommy? Satoru teased, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, his fingers teasing the skin of your legs hidden by the soft satin of your night shorts. You sighed heavily, your hands carding through his hair your husband continued to pepper soft kisses agaisnt your legs, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin.
"Satoru..." You sighed, your head tipping back as he inched his lips closer and closer to where you knew you needed him the most. Gojo was so nimble, always waiting until your weakest moment when he knew you couldn't refuse him to pounce. Satoru never once stopped his soft lips from caressing your skin, not even when he slipped his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and started sliding them down, over your ass, and down the soft skin of your legs.
Gojo's hungry eyes took in the bareness of your cunt. He loved that you didn't wear panties when you slept, it made certain sunrise activities way more convenient and accessible to Gojo. He could smell your arousal from the proximity of your cunt to his face. He so badly wanted to lean in and part your folds with his tongue, exposing just how wet you were between them. He could feel himself start to salivate just thinking about it.
"Satoru not tonight... I'm so tired." You pleaded, no real seriousness behind your words, and Gojo knew that. "I know baby, I know. Don't gotta do anything, just lay back and let me make you feel good. Let me do allllll the work~" Gojo cooed in his teasing sing sing-songy voice, his breath tickling your skin as he pressed a kiss to the inner spot where your leg and body meet.
You laid back against the sheets, your body falling into them with a soft 'thwump' as the smooth silk welcomed your tired body. Gojo sat up on his knees and placed your thighs over his shoulders, getting into position before he properly ate you out. "Satoru..." You tried to protest weekly, your exhaustion hitting you tenfold when the sheets caressed your body so comfortingly, like they were trying to lull you into dreamland as you lay there.
"I haven't touched you in weeks because of that kid. He gets your attention more than I do these days." Gojo sulked, "Don't push me away." His words were followed by his hands squeezing your thighs harder as he held them over his shoulders. You cracked a smile at his words, your head tipping down slightly so you could look at him as you spoke, "Satoru, he's a baby, are you really jealous of a baby?" You ask, holding back a laugh.
You were unable to keep your head up for long. The soreness seeping into your bones made you drop your head back against the sheets before he could respond. "A baby that sees your tits more than I do..." Satoru tsked, pursing his lips as he pouted, trying to look at your face. "My tits," you repeated the vulgar word, "are his food, Satoru." You responded, shaking your head at his childishness.
"They could be mine too....." Gojo mumbled, his voice almost quiet enough that you missed it. Satoru was groveling for a reason you were very familiar with. You let him try your breast milk before the baby was born, and clearly, that had been a huge mistake. Not only had Gojo gotten to suck on your tits and relieve you of your pain, but he got to taste another part of you, and from the first drop, he has been addicted.
You only let him try your milk one other time before the baby was born and he curses you every day for not letting him taste you more, because the little milk monster you popped out was a gluttonous baby cow. He greedily drank up all of your milk every time he fed, and cried for more. Which was good for you and the baby, but the worst thing imaginable for Gojo.
You knew Gojo would get addicted, which is why you limited his supply before the baby was born, but clearly, two times was too many to expose him to such a rare treat. "For the last time, this is food for our baby child, not my grown man child." You sighed, some of your snarkiness coming back to you as Gojo's warm hands and lips caressed your skin, waking you up a bit.
"I don't care how many times you tell me that, I'm not going to get over it." Satoru retorted, resting his head against your thigh in defeat, the soft strands of his hair tickling your skin and he rubbed against you. You sighed before you spoke, your eyes darting around the ceiling as you gathered your words. "Are you... really feeling neglected...?" You asked, your thighs subtly squeezing against Gojo's neck as you felt your arousal start to creep up on you.
Gojo perked up at your words, his fingers teasing the skin of your thighs as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the skin right above your clit, teasing you. "So neglected baby... just wanna taste my wife's pussy and I can't even do that." Gojo pouted, putting on his best act. He had you right where he wanted you. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment, your eyes falling shut as you pulled your lip between your teeth.
"O-okay, do whatever you want just... don't take too long, I really am exhausted, Toru." You gave in, gripping the silk sheets between your fingers by your side as you spoke. Gojo's grin grew twice the size, a satisfied humm left his lips before he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss directly on your clit, making your body jolt in surprise. "You know I never do," Gojo replied cockily.
Satoru's lips latched around your clit not even a second later, his eagerness clearly showing. His eyes rolled back in his head as he tasted your juices on his tongue as he licked up your folds before focusing on your clit, his tongue batting against it and sending delicious pleasure down your spine. Your stomach clenched and your back arched when he moaned against you, the vibrations stimulating your clit just right.
"Oh- oh fuck-" You moaned, a little too loud for Gojo's liking. "Shhhh... we aren't alone anymore. I know it feels good but you gotta keep it down. Don't wanna wake the kiddo." Gojo cooed, his voice coming out slurred from how pussydrunk he already was. Normally, he wouldn't give a fuck how loud you were being, and would instead encourage you to be louder, but he knew rationally that if the baby woke up right now, you would bite his head off.
You were trusting Satoru and leaving everything to him in such a vulnerable, sleepy state, and Gojo was going to prove to you he could hold that responsibility. So although the only thing he wanted was to get lost in your cunt while he made you scream and shake on his tongue, he had to keep some part of his brain functioning rationally so you could relax and be at ease while he took care of everything.
"Here," Gojo added, reaching by his side to grab your nightshorts. He placed them on your midsection, flicking them towards you with his fingers. "Bite this for me, you can be as loud as you want if you're gagged," he explained, watching as your glassy, unfocused eyes looked down at the cloth before you used a weak hand to grab it and stuff it in your mouth.
"Good girl mama, now just feel good for me." You placed both of your hands over your mouth, gripping onto the fabric to support yourself and also keep yourself quiet. When Gojo's tongue went to work on you once more, your head started spinning. You felt so out of it, each lick and kiss he placed on your cunt only relaxed your further, making you sleepier and sleepier.
Gojo, on the other hand, was feeling quite the opposite. He had abandoned one of his hands on your legs around his shoulders and had slipped it in his boxers, jerking himself off as he ate you out. He matched his strokes with his tongue as he licked you inside and out, making sure his tongue touched every inch of you. his pretty flushed cockhead poked out from the band of his boxers and was leaking precum all over his fingers as he needily jerked himself off.
Gojo moaned when he opened his mouth against you to stick his tongue inside you, and your walls immediately clenched around it. "Fuck- I missed this so much," Gojo whined between thrusts of his tongue. "You taste so good, mmm-" His eyes rolled back in his head, "-could do this forever." You were too out of it to notice the squelching of Gojo's hand furiously stroking over his cock while he tonguefucked you.
You thought the shaking bed was from your body, when in fact it was from Gojo's hand. He was trembling against you, feeling so overwhelmed as he took in your taste and scent after being without it for so long. You were unable to respond from the cloth shoved so deep in your mouth, that all you could do was reach one of your hands into his hair and grip it harshly, letting you know you heard his words and reciprocated them.
Your head thrashed side to side against the sheets as his soft, careful sucks turned needy and sloppy. His tongue spelled his name quickly agaisnt your clit before his lips wrapped around it and he suckled, hard, making your back arch dramatically off the bed from the intense stimulation. Gojo laughed against your folds, totally pussydrunk as his mouth moved against you.
His teeth grazed your folds as he opened and closed his mouth against you, his tongue spreading messily against your cunt as he tried to suck in as much as he could of you into his mouth. He had to grip his cock harshly at the base to prevent himself from cumming too soon. He could tell you were close, he just needed to hold out a little longer.
"Fuck... wanna hear you tell me how good it feels." Gojo blabbed, his hand stuttering over his cock as he started losing his pace, his voice vibrating against you as he spoke, making your body jerk and jolt against him, your cunt humping into his mouth simultaneously. "W-wanna hear you cry my name when you cum for me-" he continued, his own words working himself up as he ate you out with more vigor.
Your legs clamped shut around his head as you were worked up to the edge by Gojo's expert tongue licking over your folds. You wanted to respond, you really did, but the both of you knew if you took out your gag, you would wake the baby. "Your so wet- f-fuck so fucking wet, you gonna cum?" Gojo wined, jerking himself off faster when he picked up on all the telltale signs of your orgasm.
You nodded, your whines increasing in volume, still significantly muffled by the gag. "Oh god- me too- cum on my face- n-need you to-" You cut his pussy drunk rambling off by using the last of the strength you had to shove his head into your pussy, forcing him to shut up and eat you out. Gojo's eyes fluttered back in his head at your show of dominance as you took what you needed, humping your hips against his mouth as you used his tongue to get you off.
Gojo's nails dug into your thigh when his orgasm hit him with yours. His eyes rolled back repeatedly in his head and his abs clenched as he came all over his fist and the edge of the bed. Hot ropes of white cum sticking to his skin and the silk sheets as he released his thick load, wishing he was cumming inside you instead. You rode your high out with him, your body shaking and trembling with the force as you jerked forward with every wave of your orgasm that washed over you.
You gasped and whined muffled slurs of Satoru's name against the silk as you came, hard. Gojo kept sloppily working his tongue on your clit right up until your legs loosened from around his neck, allowing him to breathe. You both jerked every so often as the aftershocks wracked your body. Satoru's hands caressed the skin of your thighs soothingly as he helped you come down.
Your breathing slowly started to even out as you relaxed more and more, letting your husband's warm hands lull you closer and closer to dreamland. You could barely register the praise he was cooing at you as your body relaxed agaisnt him.
"Good girl did so good for me."
"Made such a mess on my face."
"I love you so much, thank you"
His words all muddled into one as your eyes finally fluttered shut as you fell unconscious. Gojo rose from his place between your legs, confused as to why you were being so quiet. When his eyes settled on your familiar sleeping face, he smiled softly, shaking his head as he tucked his cock back in his pants and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
He giggled as he realized the cloth was still in your mouth. Leaning forward while smirking, he easily pulled out the garment from between your lips and replaced it with his own as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, slightly cracked open from pulling the gag out.
He leaned back from the kiss and slid his hands down your unconscious body, watching how steady your breath was, and how relaxed you looked. He slid his hands under your arms and held your limp body against his chest as he situated the two of you under the covers, placing your body on top of his as he wrapped his arms against you, snuggling you as you slept so peacefully. "Glad I licked your pussy now, huh?" Gojo laughed, "You're gonna sleep like a baby tonight~"
He hoped you didn't mind the stickiness between your thighs from your cum when you woke up in the morning. He was only planning on holding you for a couple of minutes, just wanting to relish the feeling of your body against his before he cleaned you up. But unbeknownst to him, he was a lot more tired than he initially thought, leading him to join you in dreamland within those five minutes.
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojou x reader#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo fluff#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru smut#satorugojo#jujutsu satoru#gojo satoru fic#gojou satoru x you#gojou satoru x y/n#gojo
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❥ scarlet plumes
feat.: Valentino/f!reader
warnings: nsfw content, noncon, physical + psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, violence, drugging, rough sex, choking, punishments, manipulation, Valentino is his own warning
You were not the type to get into trouble.
Being confrontational, at least attempting to have things go your way through protests and complaints, had never seemed worth it; not when the one you were up against was Valentino, who always got what he wanted in the end, one way or another.
All too often, you had seen the way he punished disobedient whores; all too often, you had watched the way they were still limping days after, bruises blooming on skin if they had been lucky, bullet wounds trying to heal, oozing blood, if they had been less so.
There was no reason to willingly go through the struggle of disobeying when simply giving in, caving to Val's wishes and orders, was so much easier.
When Valentino told you to bend over, you did so readily, spreading your thighs apart in offering; when Valentino ordered you down onto your knees, you went obediently, lips dropping open, praying he wasn't in a bad mood, unpredictable as his sudden bursts of anger often made him.
You were not the type to get into trouble, and yet you currently found yourself on the floor, crumpled in front of Valentino's boots, cheek warm and stinging.
“Now, why don't you tell me what happened, baby?” His tone was a low coo, almost gentle enough to soothe your sobs. “You've never acted out like this before. What happened to my well-behaved girl, hm?”
In your defense, it really hadn't been your fault — you hadn't meant to do it.
Your night shift had been supposed to be a simple session for a well-known client, consisting of some lap dancing and a blow job; that was what he had paid for, at least. Your surprise when he had begun ripping your skimpy panties off you, forcing your legs apart, hands greedy, mouth drooling, high on some drug, was therefore understandable in your eyes; as was the way you, in your shock, had lashed out, claws scratching at his chest in order to push him off you. A split second later, the side of your face had ached with pain, his flat palm having met your cheek before he had stormed out of the room, screaming and spitting.
Valentino had been with you after barely any time at all.
“I didn't—”, you choked out, voice trembling, “I didn't mean to do it, sir, I swear, he just startled me, and, I mean, he didn't pay for more, he wanted to —, he wanted to—”
One hand of his cupped your cheek, golden claw gently tracing over your jaw. Even with him crouched down in front of you, he seemed ridiculously tall. “Hey—, relax, sweetheart.” At an exhale, red smoke coiled around you, assaulting your senses. Instinctively, your raised shoulders fell as tension bled from your muscles. “I get it. I understand.”
With how utterly merciless Valentino was known to be, it took a few moments for you to actually understand the meaning of his words. Even then, you barely dared to let go of the dreadful fear curled in your stomach. “You do?”
“Of course I do”, he said, eyes half-lidded behind heart-shaped glasses. His voice was soft enough to cause more tears, now of relief, to drip down your cheeks. “You know, I was really surprised when that patron came up to me, demanding to have you fired, if not killed for your disobedience. You're usually such an obedient girl — I was wondering what actually happened. Good job for being honest with me.”
Hope bloomed in your chest, your eyes widening. Streaks of mascara and eyeshadow, black and colourful, ran down your wet cheeks. “So you're not upset with me?”
“Upset with you? Of course not, amorcito. You were scared, that's alright. It happens, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Your breath hitched in a stifled sob, lips, the gloss now smudged, curling up into a pitiful mockery of a smile. “Yeah. Thank you, Val.”
This could have gone much worse. Your hands were still shaking, anxiety thrumming underneath your skin, and yet Valentino didn't even seem particularly upset. Some higher being — whether that was Lucifer or God, you didn't really care — must have blessed you, somehow.
“Of course, baby.” The moment Valentino stood once more, he towered over you, his shadow swallowing you up. “Now, follow me, yeah?”
Your legs struggled to support your weight, knees feeling weak as you trailed behind him through corridors you didn't recognise. Your steps were unsure, the heels, ridiculously high, only adding to your troubles. You have half a mind to stop yourself from asking where you're going.
It's entirely unnecessary, either way.
You arrive but a moment later, the noise of a heavy door falling shut causing you to flinch; where Valentino was in front of you just a second ago, he was now behind you, a looming presence at your back.
It was a studio; not the fancy kind actual stars like Angel Dust filmed in, but a smaller one, the light bulb flickering, the sheets on the bed stained. Voxtech cameras were pointed at the mattress.
“Val—?”
“Bend over, baby.”
“You said you're not angry with me.” The words tumbled out of your mouth without your permission, a panicked high-pitched tone. “You said you're not—”
“And I'm not, as long as you hurry the fuck up and do what I tell you to.” His voice was sharp. Instinctively, you obeyed, bending over the edge of the bed, nausea churning in your stomach. “See, that guy you were a bitch to was a regular. Good money. I gotta show him you're sorry, sweetheart. You understand that, right?”
For a moment, you didn't get a word out, throat tight as tears spilled past your lashes. Eventually, you managed a shaky; “Yes, Valentino.”
“There we go. Knew you'd get why I have to do this.”
Large hands settled on your thighs, the touch making you flinch; his claws, all too sharp, teased at your skin, leaving faint scratch marks, before they prodded at your folds.
This, by now, should have been routine. It was; and yet, the idea of this being a punishment had you tensing, muscles locking up while Valentino thrust one claw into you, only to grunt, irritated.
“Ungrateful bitch”, he spat, one hand settling on your lower back, pinning you to the bed while another fumbled with his belt, metal clinking. “That's what I get for tryin' to be nice and preparing you — tightest cunt I've ever seen. Loosen the fuck up or deal with it.”
“I'm sorry.” Your voice shook, though the threat of violence, of pain, didn't help with relaxing in the slightest. Instead, you instinctively clenched around the digit, only to whimper when he yanked it back out.
“Sure doesn't seem like it.”
The fat head of his cock, pierced, the metal cold, pressed against you, then pushed inside; you were unable to stop yourself from letting out a pitiful noise, sounding more like a wounded animal than a practiced porn star.
Valentino didn't seem to mind it one bit.
Your vision blackened out for a moment when he bottomed out inside of you, the pain agonising. For a moment, you were certain he was tearing you from the inside out. His hips slapped against your plush ones, building up a steady rhythm; one set of his hands grabbed onto your hips, claws digging into your skin, using his grip for leverage to pull you back against him
“Some wetness would help us out here, y'know”, Valentino mumbled, complaining, bitching, like this was your fault. It probably was.
The only response you were able to come up with was a choked out sob, a dull ache steadily present in your abdomen, only interrupted by sharp stabbing pain whenever Valentino's tip hit an impossibly deep spot inside of you.
This couldn't have possibly gotten worse — or so you thought, tears dripping down your face, your claws ripping the sheets as you scrambled for purchase, only for it to get so much more agonising when, all of a sudden, his hand closed around your throat, squeezing.
You weren't able to breathe.
Instinctively, you clenched around him, thighs shaking. If he wasn't still holding you up, you would have collapsed.
“Fuck, you're so damn tight.” Valentino groaned, low and raspy. His tongue lapped at your neck, leaving trails of pink saliva to drip down your shoulders, your chest. “We could've had such a pleasant time together, baby, if only you hadn't been such a disobedient slut. Hate that you're making me do this.”
His pace was unforgiving, the metal of his belt buckle hitting your hip with every other thrust, surely leaving bruises. Not that it mattered — Valentino did provide you with full coverage makeup, after all.
Out of the corner of your eye, you focused on the red dots of the many cameras, blinking, recording. By now, numbness spread through you, a small blessing. You weren't certain just how long it went on; only that, eventually, Valentino came with a groan, filling you up, making you whimper.
When his grip on your throat loosened for a split second, allowing you to suck a burning breath into your lungs, it felt like Heaven.
“Use your words, baby. Talk to me.”
“Val, 'm sorry—”
“Yeah?”
“I'm sorry”, you repeated, the words barely audible through sobs, “I'm sorry, Val, I'm sorry—”
Suddenly, his hand, still on your throat, yanked your head up, his lips clashing against yours; the very moment you opened your mouth, pliant with submission, with exhaustion, smoke flooded it, you choking on it.
Your mind felt muddled, mouth dry even as saliva trickled out of your lips, jaw slack.
Faintly, you were able to feel his cum drip out of your cunt and down your thighs, sticky.
“Now”, Valentino said, voice a sultry purr, “Why don't you wait here, I'll send you your client and you apologise properly to him?”
Mind filled with scarlet plumes, you barely knew what you were agreeing to, nodding mindlessly. “Yes, Valentino.”
“That's what I like to hear. Good girl.”
When multiple pairs of footsteps echoed through the room, you, even in your hazy state, had the bad feeling that you were going to be having a long night.
i won't lie i didn't proofread this yet.. tomorrow... ALSO FIRST POST YIPPEEE
#Hazbin Hotel#Hazbin Hotel headcanons#Hazbin Hotel Valentino#Valentino x reader#Valentino smut#Hazbin Hotel x reader#Hazbin Hotel smut#valentino hazbin hotel#Hazbin Valentino x reader#Hazbin Valentino smut#Hazbin Hotel x you#Hazbin hotel imagines#Hazbin Hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel headcanon#Hazbin x reader#Hazbin x you#Hazbin x y/n#Hazbin smut#Hazbin fanfic#Hazbin imagines#Hazbin imagine#tw.noncon#tw.abuse#tw.manipulation#tw.violence#tw.drugging#tw.choking#❥ my writing#❥ valentino
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can you make a fix of cod guys reaction to you getting into an argument with them, which causes us to flinch and cover our face from any impact because we had an abusive ex.
featuring Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz, Konig, & Alejandro
⊹ cod men x gn!reader
[ warnings ] domestic violence implications
cod masterlist
Ghost
He’d run his hand through his hair if he didn’t have this bloody mask on. Ghost looked down at you, his eyes narrowing in and scrutinizing your every minute detail. You tried to glare back, but you were feeling rather small with the weight of his disappointed glower.
“You’ve got t’be more careful,” his voice boomed, though he was trying to keep it at a normal level.
“I know, I’m sorry—”
“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it when you get someone killed,” he growled, taking a step in, closing the space between the two of you.
You stepped back on instinct and bumped into the wall—trapped. You suddenly felt trapped. You knew that logically he wouldn’t hurt you, but something about his pissed-off demeanor and towering frame triggered something in you. Your breathing increased exponentially and Ghost watched helplessly as your chest rose and fell in rapid beats.
A bit taken aback by your response, Ghost raised a hand to grab your shoulder and you turned your head and shied away. You let out a small gasp as if waiting for him to land a blow on you.
You squeezed your eyes shut, the entire moment passing by excruciatingly slow. That’s when you knew you fucked up. Ghost dropped his hand and his fist clenched, putting everything together all at once. Something inside him broke seeing you look at him like that—with fear in your eyes. It fucking hurt.
“M’not gonna hurt you,” he said in a much softer tone than earlier. He’d never lay a hand on you, even out of love, if you didn’t want it.
You blinked rapidly, forcing yourself to look up at him, your face inflamed. “I-I know. I didn’t… I don’t know why…” The words got lost in your throat. You were so embarrassed.
“Who?” He asked sharply.
You tilted your head, your hands squeezing at your sides. Ghost took a step back to give you room, though he wanted nothing more than to step into you closer, to pull you against him. He didn’t care how annoyed he was with you, all that drifted away, unimportant nonsense he’d come back to later.
“ Who… ?” You repeated.
“Who. Hurt. You?” He bent over slightly, aligning his face with yours as he talked, making sure you couldn’t turn your face away from him.
“J-Just an ex-boyfriend. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why I responded like that. I-I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Ghost sighed, his eyes dancing between yours. “No. I wouldn’t.” His voice was dark and deep again. “But I have nothin’ against hurtin’ that bastard.”
“Ghost, please.”
He straightened and rolled his shoulders, trying to suppress the bubbling anger. He looked down at you at last. “Can I touch you?” He asked softly.
You nodded, tears falling down your cheeks now. He tentatively took a step towards you and pulled you into his arms. He wrapped them securely around you and you nuzzled your face into his jacket. If he wasn’t so shocked over the way you responded to him, he’d be yelling at you to tell you who it was that hurt you so he could hunt them down.
Instead, he clutched you close to him, trying not to think about the fear that crossed your eyes, even if it was momentarily. Even if it wasn’t because of him. He never wanted you to look at him like that again. Something rotten tugged at his heart as he felt you try to stifle your cries. Oh, he was definitely going to kill that bastard. And he was going to make it slow and painful.
Price
You chased after Price as he made his way down the hall. “I swear I didn’t mean to—!”
He cut you off, spinning on his heels, making you bump into his chest and slam to a halt. “It doesn’t matter what you meant !” He yelled, losing his composure briefly.
You flinched at his loud words, stepping away from him. It was a quick movement, a subtle tick of your face, your eyes squinted as you pulled your head away. You acted like this was something you were all too familiar with.
Immediately Price’s anger shifted away from you and onto whatever bastard trained you to cower.
His widened eyes traced your face and you slowly read his expression as he came to the realization of why you would flinch away from him when he shouted. You watched as several emotions crossed Price’s countenance.
His voice was hushed as he edged closer to you, the deep baritone sending a shiver up your spine. “Y’don’t have t’tell me now,” his voice was so low as he spoke. “But you will tell me who, eventually.”
“John, I–”
He was always so gentle with you. But right now, the intense hatred for whoever this bastard was that harmed you, took over. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Don’t wanna hear it, doll. You will tell me who did this to you if it’s the last thing I get out of you.”
A wave of heat crossed your cheeks, his eyes boring into yours. You nodded meekly and his face softened. “Com’ere,” he cooed, opening his arms. You stepped into them and were immediately surrounded in the warm comfort Price brought you, one hand rubbing circles on your back and the other sliding up into your hair, tucking your head under his chin.
“S’your not mad at me, anymore?” Your words muffled by his body.
You felt his chest rumble as he spoke. “Could never stay mad at you.”
Soap
“Blood hell,” Soap whined, annoyed with you for hiding the arm wound you got the other day.
“It’s not as serious as it looks,” you tried to convince him, your lips quirking into a weak smile.
He closed his eyes to collect his last remaining patience. “Not serious—” he repeated, his words rising in several octaves as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got twenty stitches in your arm! How the fuck is that not serious?!”
He reached for your arm and you pulled it away, shuddering briefly from the brief touch of his fingertips. The two of you froze, his eyes darting to meet yours the second he saw the shift in your composure.
“Gonna tell me why y’just did that?” He sat still in his seat, trying to steady his voice.
“Did what?” You asked, attempting to play dumb, but the tears were already misting in your eyes.
Soap sighed, his face dropping as he studied you. “Fuckin’ hell,” he said with displeasure. “You shoulda told me. I wouldn’t have—I woulda been more—” He lost his words, watching as a few stray tears fell down your cheeks.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly. His thumb came up to wipe the tears away, his hand then cupping the side of your cheek. “S’okay. M’not mad.” You leaned into his hand.. “Jus’ wish ya woulda told me.” You nodded and he gave you a weak smile.
“Com’on, let’s get that bandage changed.” His voice was gentle as he coaxed you up, wrapping an arm protectively around you as he led you down to the infirmary. You would discuss this later. Right now, all he wanted was to make sure you felt safe in his arms.
Gaz
Gaz wouldn’t say he had anger issues… he just got passionate about the people he cared about, and sometimes that would come out in spurts of angry shouts. What he didn’t expect, was the way you reacted the first time he ever lost his cool in front of you.
“I cannot fuckin’ believe Shepherd,” he growled.
“Maybe we should just focus on the positive,” you said meekly, trying to help calm Gaz down.
“Yeah? And what fuckin’ positive is that?!” He shouted as he paced back and forth. He regretted it the moment it left his lips.
You squeezed your eyes shut at his words and brought your hands up for the briefest of seconds to cover your face.
Gaz whispered your name and you instantly tried to compose yourself. You straightened and gave an awkward smile.
“That wasn’t at you,” he corrected, his eyes deflating as he watched you. “I-I’m sorry. I’d never hurt you,” he said wistfully, running his hand over his hair and cursing. He looked at you completely differently than he had just moments earlier. His entire demeanor shifted. He was suddenly staring at you with such intensity it made something well in your eyes.
“No, Gaz. It’s not you.” That was the last sentence you could get out before the tears escaped. You quickly wiped them away and Gaz stepped towards you, resting both hands on either one of your shoulders.
“Hey,” he said calmly.
You gave him a sideways smile. “It’s just…” you tried to get the words out but they slipped away.
“S’alright. You don’t have to tell me.” His hands slid down your arms, giving you a squeeze before releasing you. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”
You gave a small laugh. “I know that, Gaz.”
“Good.” He pulled you into his chest without asking, all his anger from earlier transforming into gentleness. “You can tell me when you’re ready,” he said into your hair.
You nodded. “Thank you.” He held you a bit tighter and you closed your eyes in peace. You never wanted him to let go.
König
He was frustrated with the way you were angry at him for insisting he do this mission alone. “You’re gonna get yourself killed!” You argued.
He had enough. He didn’t lose his temper often, but there was no way Konig was allowing you to come on a mission quite this dangerous. He pushed up from his chair, the table in front of him shaking as he did.
He was a big guy, and you knew that, but the way he quickly took up the space of the room amazed you. “Verfickte Hurerei!” Fucking hell! he shouted. “Why are you pressing this so hard?!” He gestured towards you, his fists clenched and you winced. You cowered away, surprising even yourself with your actions.
Konig watched you through his rapid blinking, dumbfounded by what just happened. It took him a second to process.
“Liebling?” He asked his voice back to its usual tone. “I wasn’t going to— fuck . I’m sorry.” A pang of guilt coursed through him. You thought he was going to hit you? Jesus Christ. He wanted to reach out to you but he refrained, knowing that might make things worse.
“Konig,” you whispered and his eyes snapped to yours. He tilted his head, studying you as you regained your composure. “S’not you.” Your words were so faint it hurt his heart a little.
He watched as you wiped away a stray tear. Your body had shifted back to how things used to be. Before Konig.
Your lip quivered and you felt so small and embarrassed. Konig mouthed your name breathlessly and you blinked away tears before closing the distance between the two of you. You practically fell into his arms and he tightened them on you instinctively.
“You okay, liebling?” He cooed, his hand stroking your hair.
You nodded. “M’sorry.”
He pulled back so you had to tilt your chin and look up at him. “Don’t apologize.” His hand came up and stroked your cheek.
“It’s not you,” you tried to reassure again, worried Konig was going to eat himself alive thinking you were afraid of him.
“I know.” Your lips pinched together and Konig pulled you back into him. “You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me.”
You felt tears fall; not out of terrible memories, but out of the love you felt radiating off of Konig.
Alejandro
“Jesus, would you just listen to me?” You shouted.
“Listen to you?! You haven’t heard a fucking thing I’ve been saying!” He yelled back. His accent was always heavier on his words when he was mad.
He took a big step towards you, his knife still in his hand, covered in blood. You flinched when he approached so suddenly. His dark words and his fast movements made you duck in fear.
Alejandro paused all his movements, startled by your reaction. “Jesus,” he mumbled, sheathing his knife and holding his hands up. “I wouldn’t hurt you, mi amor.” He shook his head in frustration with himself. His jaw clenched as he watched you look back up at him. How awful he felt seeing your beautiful features shrouded in fear.
“I…” you swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. The yelling… I don’t know. It just made me think back to…”
Something inside Alejandro shifted at your faint words. “Mataré a ese bastardo,” I’ll kill that bastard , he growled. “Who was it? Who fuckin’ touched you?”
You shook your head. “Alejandro, please. It was so long ago.”
He clenched his fist, his other hand coming up to the scruff on his jaw. He closed his eyes to try and contain himself. When he opened them, you could still see the darkness lingering behind them. “I don’t care how long ago it was, mi amor. I need you to tell me who it was.”
You frowned and he closed his eyes again before walking up to you and pulling you into his arms. “God. I swear I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”
You let out the softest of giggles at how dramatic he could be. But still, you felt so safe knowing he would go to the ends of the world to protect you. You felt him kiss the top of your head, mumbling something about being sorry for yelling.
#ghost#simon riley#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#cod#cod headcanons#ghost headcanon#ghost cod#ghost fanfic#simon riley fanfic#ghost mw2#ghost call of duty#call of duty headcanons#fluff#angst#ghost angst#cod mw2#smut#alejandro vargas#johnny mactavish#soap#soap cod#captain price#john price#alejandro varggas headcanons#captain price headcanons#soap headcanons#kyle gaz garrick
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It takes a lot to break a ghost. After all, even death didn’t keep them down for long, not in any way that mattered.
There is, however, a sure fire way to utterly crush a ghost’s core without even touching it.
Find their grave, and defile it.
It is the height of cruelty. It is the ultimate act of disrespect. It is violation, of the deepest kind, an act that can never, ever be allowed to go unpunished.
As Danny stared at the remains of the toppled over rock tower that Tucker and Sam had made for him all those years ago, to honor his death, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.
——
Please.
Zatanna looked around. The magician knew better than to write off the sound as a trick of her mind.
You have to help him. Please. He’s just a child.
“Who? What’s wrong?” Zatanna asked, heart aching for the grieving whispers of the young voice.
My brother. His grave. It’s been destroyed. Please.
Zatanna’s hair stood on ends. “What’s his name? Where is it?”
Amity Park. His name is Phantom. Please. Hurry.
Her heart skipped a beat. Phantom. The name of the Infinite Realm’s Champion, the future king.
“Shit. I’m on my way. Can you lead me there?”
I can’t. I won’t be here for much longer. Tell him Jazz sent you. Please. Help him. Help him.
“I will.”
When Zatanna portals out of her dressing room, she catches a flash of red hair.
——
“CONSTANTINE!”
“Gah! Zatanna?” John Constantine fell out of his chair, legs slipping from their place propped onto the table.
“Emergency! Infinite Realms level. Someone destroyed Phantom’s grave.”
Constantine scrambled upwards, pulling on his coat as his mind all but bleated like a highland goat at the sound of “Infinite Realms” and “Phantom’s grave.” Destroying a ghost’s grave might destroy the ghost, but if they survive the initial splintering, right before their final death, they’ll explode in a ball of fury. Normally, it would be slightly less of a problem. Normally, it wouldn’t be the most powerful ghost in the Infinite Realms. Normally, this wouldn’t happen. Normally, even if it did, it wouldn’t risk a war none of the universes would win. The Infinite Realms loves prince Phantom. Their grief over this… even if he survives, the consequences would be unimaginable.
“You contact the League. I have to go fix this, right now.”
John doesn’t bother going for his hottle, because he unfortunately needed to do this sober.
“Go, go!”
——
Danny doesn’t turn even as he hears the crunch of grass blades. He sits, staring blankly at what used to be his grave marker.
“Hi, there,” it’s a woman. She sounds sad. Danny understands, because all he feels is a whistling hole where his heart used to be. “Are you Phantom?”
Danny sighs, ice crackling at his lungs. He knows, when this is over, he’ll find it in himself to rage. If he doesn’t shatter from this, he knows he’ll take Amity out. Perhaps he’d spare this one. It’s been a long time since anyone bothered visiting or even knew about his grave.
“Your highness…your sister sent me. Jazz?”
That got Danny’s attention. Glowing green eyes peeked from the curled ball of ghost to stare Zatanna down.
She swallowed.
“She… had red hair?”
“Why are you here?” Why did she send you? He doesn’t say. Zatanna seems to understand anyways.
“To help. Please, will you let me help?”
Danny looks down at the ice freezing her feet to the ground and thinks of the kind set of her eyes, the steel backing her spine, the carefully nonthreatening posture. Yes, Jazz would send this kind of person to help him.
The ice melts.
“Thank you.”
Danny watches as she approaches his destroyed grave. She glances back for his permission. He shrugs. It’s destroyed. Nothing would ever bring it back.
And then, he was proven wrong.
Zatanna’s eyes glow, and the stones began melding itself back together- no, it was reversing the damage and zooming back to its proper place.
“Oh.”
The damage to his core was still there. But… he won’t kill this one at all.
Or her friends, who stand at the edge of the clearing with the soul-torn one standing at the helm.
“Is this… alright, your highness?”
Danny stares at Zatanna. His voice is hoarse but… but it’s not on the verge of insanity anymore.
“Do you always come to graves without an offering?”
He knows he’s being rude. He’s past the point of caring. Zatanna’s response is to pull a bouquet of lilies from behind her back.
——
Phantom’s face is so young, and it’s even younger when he smiles.
“Not always,” Zatanna replies, rolling her eyes. But when she settles the flowers down, they’re gently placed.
“Can you magic clovers around it?” Phantom asks, that note of painful hope cracking her own heart. She wonders how old he was when he died.
“Of course.”
A field of clovers surrounds the rock tower, and Zatanna adds four layers of heavy wards around the area when she grows them. Phantom notices, and looks up at her with… trust.
“I am Zatanna. Your sister, Jazz, sent me.”
“Okay. You can call me Phantom.”
——
“I want their heads.” Danny says.
“We don’t kill.”
“Then hand them over to us, for they have hurt the Great One. They will answer for their crimes.” Frostbite settles a hand on Danny’s shoulder.
“Alright.”
“Constantine.”
Constantine somehow manages to drag Batman away to hiss in his ears.
“Shit in a hole, Batsy, I’m not fucking with the Infinite Realms. My demons won’t fuck with the Infinite Realms. Destroying a ghost’s grave is an act of war, and an act of complete violation, and we’re lucky Phantom liked Zee enough not to completely bring ruin to our universe. So shut up, and get the bastards that did this.”
“Hm.”
——
Zatanna sits in the visitors chair, Batman’s and Constantine’s disgruntled selves standing behind her.
“How old are you, Phantom?”
“Hm?” The future King looks exhausted, understandably. “Oh, sixteen.”
“You’re… sixteen? That’s how old you look, right?”
She’s hoping that he’s older, that he’s a millennia and a half years old. Because if he wasn’t, whoever broke Phantom’s grave, broke the grave of a child.
“No, I’m sixteen. My body looks fourteen. I died when I was fourteen.”
Constantine swears.
Batman straightens and walks out, fists clenched.
Zatanna eases the hum of hunting magic at her finger tips and smiles at Phantom until he sleeps.
Then, she gets up, and hunts.
#zatanna#danny phantom#dc x dp#batman#bruce wayne#the Justice League#john constantine#the consequences of destroying a final resting place#crisis averted#ghost prince danny
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