#so you track him down and you find him and it's like meeting a stranger.
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This is going more pissa (romantic, correct?) and might have some...implied nsfw....?
My thoughts is very scrambled, and I have so much to say.
I always think about Origins!Smp Philza meeting Q! Missa...
Missa who probably got lost during his way back in his travels of finding Q! Philza a gift! Missa is determined to find the right one, to show how much Philza means to him and that he deserves something better....
But, uh, Missa wasn't currently sure where he was and now he's upset, not angry, but upset... How is he supposed to find the greatest gift, a treasure when he cannot even find his way back home! How?! He was on the right trail and still got horribly lost...He should have just brought a map and compass with him, but he didn't because he was confident with himself that he would find his way back. He always found his way back one way or another, even if it took much longer...but while he tries to find his way back, he'll just keep looking for a good gift for Philza
....
Missa, who, stops in his track when he sees two large familiar wings. Oh, ohhhh, oh lady death spare him, because apparently he was never lost at all?? Philza is here??? RIGHT HERE AND HE DOESN'T HAVE A GIFT- DIOS MIO
Missa was just ready to cry right there and decided he was just gonna have to make up whatever lie and present he has in his backpack, he lost his backpack
Missa was too distracted, muttering and quietly sobbing to himself that he wasn't aware that Philza already noticed his presence.
Well... O! Philza, to be more exact, who immediately noticed a new presence in his territory..his home.... He was curious to see what this new person was, and what bravery they had to be so willing to enter and well.... He wasn't sure what to make of this strange fella who wore a skeleton mask, and dressed in purple and blue with a few chains that seemed to be connected around his neck to his armor shoulder, with another skeleton over it as decoration...
O! Philza is a little disappointed, but he doesn't think this new stranger would have anything good for him...he looks... pitiful and pathetic like some wet cat.
O! Philza was about to leave until suddenly Missa called out for him and he almost tripped over his own feet, because how does this stranger know his name—
Annndd why is he crying— Oh Lady Death help him-
Missa tried to be brave, help him, he tried but he immediately broke down crying because he honestly didn't know what to say or offer as an apology gift, so all he could do was give a sorry lame apology to Philza for not being around and letting him take care of their two beautiful eggs/children all by himself
It took a minute for O! Philza to process and awkwardly stop Missa that he genuinely has no idea who he is or why he is here and that they don't have no kids and if he's gone insane— (O! Philza has standards, thank you very much- While Missa is very cute in his opinion, he doesn't plan on having anymore children nor does he recall ever adopting. Who the heck is Chayanne and Tallulah)
After some awkward conversation, O! Philza did finally offer Missa to stay at a nearby village until he can figure out how to...get him back to Quesadilla Island, back to his Philza and his kids. Missa is forever grateful to this weird other version of his platonic husband, and decided he'd lighten up the village as a thank you!
....How does one lighten up a village anyways?
..Missa will figure it out.
Missa itches every little instinct in O! Philza, and it's such a curse and blessing. The way Missa screams, and immediately clings to O! Philza without any hesitance, crying for him to save him.
The way Missa found some bravery in him to finally ask if he could preen his wings, because gods, he knows how important wings are to them and he wasn't gonna let O! Philza walk around, with dirty wings, like that any longer. He was so gentle as he tended to every feather and even as an extra bonus, he gave a massage to O! Philza and his wings as well!
Missa, in O! Philza opinion, is a god send...
Missa is super attentive, makes delicious meals that he's never heard of before and most of all, despite being weak, he still tries and is willing to put himself out there if it means his family and friends were safe. O! Philza may have...purposely stopped searching for a way to send Missa back and instead send Missa further and deeper into the forest...deeper where no one can find him.
Further away from civilization. O! Philza wanted to be the one to save him each time, to be the only one he speaks with... But Missa already has a home, his own Philza and kids.
That burned deep in O! Philza brain. Missa wasn't mated, as far as he can tell, there's no bite mark, no scent or anything (Though it could be because Missa has been traveling so the scent must have worn off), and yet he has kids! Literal actual children they take care of and takes after those two...
Now O! Philza loves kids, don't get him wrong, but even he doesn't know where Missa came from and as far as he can tell, someone must have purposely dropped Missa here without telling anyone and now he's just stuck here, so oh well.
But Missa never stops talking about them....He doesn't stop. He talks and talks about them, and O! Philza wonders how red Missa's face will get if he kisses him to shut him up.
Will Missa quiet down if he gave Missa kids?
O! Philza isn't quite sure of what anatomy Missa has, but he knows Missa isn't human at all to some degree, so it's possible...he could....
The idea of Missa being— He's getting distracted. He could just fetch some other fledglings from another nest, but...he knows it won't quiet Missa for long. It's not his biological ones, not the real ones but...
...Hm.
Mm.
O! Philza might not be so against the idea after all of Missa entering his nest. It has been awfully quiet and empty anyways...
#pissa#thoughts#too many thoughts#missasinfonia#o!philza#help#i wrote something#perishes#qsmp???#missa qsmp#q!missa#mentioned q!philza#missa design is a reference to maepletea design#yandere implied
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whatchya got, boy?
note: requested by @wetsocksinbed :D this fic came to me in a prophetic vision as soon as i read that ask, all i have to say is i was cackling maniacally while writing it. bon apetit.
pairing: john 'soap's mactavish x gn!reader
wc: 4.4k
summary: soap is scared of dogs, you're a k9 handler. your dog is good at finding bodies, he doesn't ever want him to have to find yours.
warnings: angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence
ao3
soap has never liked dogs.
when people ask him why, he tells them that it's just how he is. he wasn't bitten by one, it's not a trauma response, he just doesn't like them, plain and simple. being in the military and having a phobia of dogs is like painting a giant red target on his forehead, so in the interest of not getting relentlessly made fun of, he keeps it to himself.
until recently, it hasn't been a problem.
then you came along, with your quick wit and charming smile, and he was a goner from the moment you first met.
price had given them your files, told them you and your partner are on loan to the one-four-one for the next few months while they track down a particularly slippery target. the term partner had initially disappointed soap, but then you'd both marched into the room with your heads held high, and he realised;
oh. your partner is a dog.
a german shepherd, to be precise. you're a canine handler, like the universe is playing a trick on him – he hasn't been genuinely interested in someone in god knows how long, and when he finally finds somebody, you're accompanied at all hours by one of the few things he fears.
he's about ready to give up on pursuing you before the briefing is even over, but as the others all stand and file out of the meeting room, your partner comes bounding up to him in all his fanged, furry glory and soap almost has a heart attack.
"he doesn't usually trust strangers," you told him as your dog sits at his feet and wags his tail so hard it might be at risk of dislocation. johnny’s moments away from bolting, the fear climbing up his nerves like constricting vines.
"lucky me, eh?" he smiles at you, which was honestly more like a grimace, but somehow you're not offended by his obvious dislike of your partner. you let out a laugh, and the sound is so melodic he almost forgets about the beast waiting at his heel.
"you can pet him," you grin knowingly, and soap gets the sinking feeling you've figured him out already, "he doesn't bite – not unless i tell him to."
"cheers, but i'll pass…" johnny attempts to protest, in the motion of taking a step back, but you grab his hand before he can escape and drag it down to your dog's face with an amused grin.
"his name's rex." he hears you say, but the way your dog is sniffing at his hand has every muscle in his body tensing involuntarily. he's mortified that you're seeing him react like this, he already knows he'll never be able to live this down once the others find out.
when rex chuffs and starts to lick at his hand, johnny feels like his soul might leave his body. the sharp teeth so close to his skin is so unnerving, the only thing stopping him from making a run for it is your soft grip still around his wrist.
he looks to you for help, but you're watching him with a mischievous grin that sends his heart aflutter.
"see? that wasn't so bad." you chuckle, crouching down next to your dog and thankfully taking rex's attention off him. johnny breathes a quiet sigh of relief, wiping his wet hand on his trousers as he watches you fuss over the canine.
you're endearing, and johnny has to admit that seeing you coo at rex like he's a baby makes him slightly less terrifying.
"price put you up to this?" he asks, holding back a flinch when rex looks up at the sound of his voice.
"he did." you nod, standing back up and meeting his eyes again. "but rex actually does like you. guess you're just charming like that."
"well, thank god for that…" johnny grumbles, his voice dripping with sarcasm. you laugh again, and with the way his pulse quickens, he can't help but send you a cocky grin. "but what i wanna know is, do you like me?"
"hmm…" you feign indecision with a poorly concealed smirk, tapping a finger on your chin before leaning closer and placing a hand on his bicep. "i may need a little more convincing."
after that, johnny can hardly keep himself away from you.
whenever you're next to him he's got an arm slung over your shoulder, you’re always talking – texting when you’re apart – and any free time he has is spent following you around base, not unlike rex at your heel.
you ask him if he wants to watch you when you train rex, and initially he tries to say no, because he thinks seeing rex practising attacking people might break whatever spell you've cast that makes him not hate the dog; but you drag him along anyway, and he ends up being glad that you did.
it's fascinating, watching rex sniff a shirt from your hand and track down whoever it belongs to with expert precision. it looks almost like a game to the canine, the way his tail swings back and forth the whole time as he effortlessly completes any task you give him.
he finds the dummies you hide with ease, even when they're buried under piles of boxes and clothes and various other obstacles. johnny actually finds himself respecting the dog, which is shocking since a few weeks ago he never would've been able to handle even being in the same room as one.
you give johnny the treats to feed rex, which makes him nervous all over again when the canine looks up at him with wide eyes and all his sharp teeth on display. it takes some coaxing from you, but eventually he gets comfortable enough to let rex take a treat from his hand. he may not admit it, but the only reason he even lets rex get so close is because you're there. simply your presence gives him the courage, makes him feel secure.
"when this is over," johnny begins, hand twitching under rex's tongue and looking at you with such fondness it feels like his heart is about to burst, "i'll take you out proper, treat you right."
you blink at him, surprised, but not a moment later a wide smile is taking over your face. "i look forward to it, mactavish."
the others, particularly gaz and ghost, give him hell for how infatuated he's become with you, but their teasing doesn't deter him. he likes you, and he doesn't care if everybody knows it; you like him too, and that's all he really cares about.
now, sitting in the heli on the way to what they hope will be the final location for this mission, he was almost disappointed to be done with it. you were only on loan for this mission, so once they have their target, you'd be gone. he was hoping, optimistically, that once everything was said and done he could convince you to stay with the one-four-one. he was sure he could talk price into it, and though it was selfish of him, he just wanted you to stay by his side.
you're sitting next to him in the back of the aircraft, rex between your legs with his head resting on your thigh, staring up at johnny with those big brown eyes. without even thinking, he reaches a hand out and ruffles the fur on his head, earning a nudge and an adoring smile from you when he looks over.
"he might like you better than me," you tease, scratching behind rex's ear who was yet to take his eyes off of johnny.
"don't be jealous now, bonnie." he chuckles, returning the nudge to your shoulder. "you can have 'im on weekends."
you grin again and lightly shake your head, taking rex's face in your hands and bending over to press a kiss to the top of his head. "you love me the most, right boy?"
before long, the helicopter is landing and the five of you – plus rex – are following the captain out into the forest. it's cold when they exit the heli, night vision goggles highlighting the terrain through the darkness of the night.
the silence buzzes as you all stalk through the trees. johnny pays more attention to you than he should as you walk beside him, anxiety lighting up his nerves for how this mission will go.
as according to the plan, once the manor is in sight, you all split off into teams of two; him and ghost, price and gaz, and you and rex. he trusted you to do well, like you have been doing for the last few months, but he can't help the way his shoulders tense as he watches you disappear around the corner.
the building is guarded, which was expected of course, but they only had to take down a dozen or so guards until the place was barren.
the corridors were eerily deserted, bathed in a moonlit glow as johnny crept around the manor, following closely behind ghost with both of their heads on a swivel. the radio was quiet, by design for the mission plan, but somehow this time felt different, like they wouldn't hear him if he did call out.
it's the beeping that gives it away. so faint, he almost missed it, but his senses are sharpened like a blade – and as a demolitions specialist, he knows the sound of an explosive when he hears it.
johnny carefully pushes open the door to his right, scanning the room for any movement and finding none, but when his gaze lands on the centre of the room, his pulse skips a beat.
propane canisters, fuse linking them all together, and most concerning, a timer on top blinking at him; two minutes, ticking down with a sickening green glow.
"ghost," he calls, his voice hard and serious as the anxiety builds again, "it's rigged."
ghost steps into the doorway next to him, following johnny's arm as he points to the device.
"fuck." he spits, stepping back and clicking the radio on his vest, but no sound comes out. ghost curses again, looking back to johnny with a tense expression that the sergeant mirrors. "radios aren't workin' either. let's move, c'mon."
there's no room for argument in his tone, marching back the way they came with johnny in tow.
as they emerge back out into the night, price and gaz appear from around the corner, both lifting their goggles and approaching with concern evident on their faces.
"what happened?" price's gaze darts around behind them as he speaks, as if waiting for someone to jump out and attack.
"the place is rigged, we have to go." ghost explains, already moving past them and away from the manor.
the captain nods, gesturing for johnny and gaz to follow as he tries his radio with no luck, just like ghost. the pit of anxiety lingered, getting heavier by the second.
"move it, soap." price commands, a deep frown creasing his brow.
but johnny doesn't move. "hold on, where's k-9?" he asks, a frown of his own pulling his features downwards.
"radios are down, we don't have time to look for 'em." ghost calls over to them, earning a solemn nod from the captain, who tries to move him with a hand on his shoulder.
the radios are down, you have no way of knowing the building is rigged. there's no way johnny's about to leave you on your own in the blind, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did.
"no. i'm not leavin' without 'em." johnny growls, his face morphing into a frown as he brushes off the captain's arm and turns to go back inside.
"they might already be outside." gaz tries to reason, stepping in front of him and blocking him from the doorway. kyle's regretful gaze cuts through him, and there's the distinct feeling that everyone else has already given up on you. "we have to move, mate."
johnny scoffs. "fuck that! i can't just leave 'em!" he hisses, insulted by the very idea of leaving one of their own to fend for themselves. no, that's not how they operate, that's not how he operates.
a flash of anger shoots through him and he's about to shove past gaz, but before he can move, price is yanking him away.
"soap!" he growls, shaking him slightly as he grabs johnny's other arm. "get it together, you are not goin' back in there."
before he can argue, he's being grabbed by ghost and dragged away from the manor with him as the other two jog ahead of them into the treeline.
"oi!" johnny shouts, struggling in the lieutenants iron grip, but to no avail. ghost practically drags him along as he digs his heels into the dirt, writhing in an attempt to escape and go back for you.
he's desperate, he can't lose you, not before he takes you on that date, he promised, you can't die yet–
johnny blinks, the deep, rumbling boom completely derailing his thoughts and starting a piercing ringing in his ears.
white hot fire bursts from the windows of the manor, showering the surrounding area in shards of glass and debris as the heat escapes the building in waves.
no.
everything seemed to stop around him. ghost stopped trying to drag him away, the trees stopped blowing in the wind, he almost stopped breathing. the world pauses as the walls of the manor are engulfed in flames.
no.
johnny rips his arm out of ghost's grip and stumbles back towards the manor, his mind floating out of his body.
"no!" johnny wails, ignoring the heat on his face and taking a shaky step over the jagged stone and glass that crunches under his boot, "no! they're still–" his voice breaks, "they're still in there, for fucks sake!"
"johnny!" ghost shouts, grabbing him by the strap on the back of his vest and yanking him sharply away from the blaze. "they're gone." he mutters, purposefully avoiding soap's glassy eyes.
"shut the fuck up!" he cries, thumping his fist against ghost's chest and clawing at the arm holding him back. the tears spill from his eyes hard and fast, constricting his throat and blurring his vision.
he falls to his knees with his head in his hands and ghost lets him, the debris that litters the ground sharp against his flesh, but nothing compared to the pain in his chest.
it wasn't supposed to go like this.
you were supposed to come back, and he was supposed to take you out and give you a perfect date and he'd kiss you at the end of the night and now he'd never get to do any of that because–
you're gone. slipped through his fingers like sand into the ocean.
"c'mon, johnny." he hears ghost mutter, his voice distant even though he's right there, pulling him to stand by his arm. "let's regroup."
he doesn't struggle this time, shaking himself free of his lieutenant's grip and shuffling past him with his head hanging low. if there was a god, he's sure they're laughing at him by now. it all felt like some kind of cruel joke; give him hope by granting him someone to love after all these lonely years, and then rip you out of his arms before he can know the happiness you would bring him.
he and ghost don't get far before he hears the lieutenant stop in his tracks, but he doesn't care to know why, the hollow feeling in his chest won't allow him to.
"the dog…" ghost utters from behind him, an air of disbelief in his monotone voice. johnny freezes, a cold dread travelling up his spine as he hears the unmistakable sound of rex's claws padding towards them.
he turns slowly on his heel, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.
your dog is standing in front of him.
"rex…?" he calls softly, taking in the dust and ash and dirt and blood caked into his rich brown fur, illuminated by the fire still raging. rex barks, tilting his head like he's confused, and johnny falls to his knees again, uncaring for the way the rubble tears through his trousers and his skin. "no, no no no no–"
rex is alone. you're not with him. he doesn't go anywhere without you, and that can only mean one thing.
the confirming thought alone shatters the dam completely.
the sobs wrack his body and johnny gathers rex into his arms, hugging him tightly to his chest, burying his face into his thick fur despite the filth that coats the both of them. he whimpers and whines in johnny's ear, and the sound only makes his heart hurt even more.
a few months ago he never would've dreamed he'd be hugging a dog, but you changed that; you'd helped him work on his fear, and even if rex was the only one he could tolerate, it was still leagues better than what he could accomplish without you.
but now you’re gone, and neither of them have you to fall back on.
johnny sinks his fingers deep into rex's fur, sniffling pathetically because he may have lost you, but your canine lost his entire world and he would never understand where you went, why you left him all alone, why you weren’t coming back.
rex begins to wriggle in his arms, and soap knows he wants him to let go but he can't bring himself to. this dog is all he has left of you now; he would take care of your beloved canine, it doesn't matter if he was still terrified in the back of his mind.
after a painful few minutes, jonny regains the awareness to remember where they are and the fact that ghost is still watching him break down with the dog in his arms. with a trembling sigh, he loosens his hold on rex and pulls back, wiping a dusty hand over his eyes.
as he pushes himself to stand rex barks again, startling johnny with a jolt of panic before bounding back the way he came, away from him and ghost.
johnny frowns. "hey, don't run," he mutters, ambling after the canine as he pads backwards. every time johnny gets close, rex slips just out of reach before he can grab him.
ghost sighs, but allows him to go after the dog, keeping a watchful eye on them as they get further away.
the way he was running along and looking back to make sure johnny was following reminded him a worrying amount of how he acted in his training. the training where you would hide a dummy for him and johnny would reward him with treats when he led you to the fake body.
"no, no rex," except this time, the body wouldn't be fake. "please, boy, just come back…"
rex doesn't react to his pleading, determined to lead him to what johnny knows he’s found, but desperately wants to deny anyway. he tries to stop, to turn back and never have to face the reality of you being gone, but the canine won't let him. he takes johnny's trousers between his razor teeth and growls, deep and threatening, as he tries to pull him along.
the sound makes johnny freeze, fear clawing at the back of his mind as an instinctual reaction, but he blinks hard and pushes through it. "alright, i'm comin'..."
rex lets go once he’s sure he’ll follow again, trotting ahead with the occasional check behind him to make sure johnny was still there. he follows the canine past the rubble, through the treeline, and into the underbrush where the sick feeling in his throat only grows stronger.
he doesn't bother with the night vision goggles. the fire provides enough waving light for him to just about see where he’s going, and he really has no desire to see what rex is guiding him to.
johnny almost trips over him when the canine comes to an abrupt stop, his wide eyes trained on a bush to johnny’s left.
the dread pooling in his stomach becomes suffocating.
"wh…?" he swallows thickly, crouching down to rex's level and placing a hand on his back, feeling his laboured breath that matches his own. "...whatchya got, boy?"
rex barks and noses at the branches of the bush, before stepping backwards a few paces and looking expectantly between johnny and the shrub.
johnny stares at the bush. no amount of training could've prepared him for the terror he feels imagining what he’ll find on the other side of it. as if sensing his hesitation, rex barks again to spur him on, but it only makes his heart sink further.
his hand shakes as he reaches for the branches. there's a stutter in his heartbeat, a hitch in his breath, as he pushes them aside to reveal–
"bleedin' fuckin' jesus–" johnny cries, jumping through the foliage to couch over your weakened form, forgetting his fear all together as he ruffles rex's fur with both hands and a breaking smile when he barks again. "oh good boy rex! good boy, fuckin' hell!"
it's you, blood and ash smeared across your skin and your chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, and johnny's just so happy you're alive he can't think to be afraid when rex snaps at his hands in a misdirected effort to protect you. he presses both hands against the slice in your abdomen, using the few medical supplies in his vest to help stop the bleeding as the tears being to well again.
"shit, stay with me, hun, i've got ye…" he mumbles, putting all his weight onto your stomach. "ghost! help me!"
the rest is a blur.
they carry you to the helicopter, rex barking protectively between their legs the whole way until he can lay on guard between your legs on take off.
when they finally touch down back at base, johnny has to grab rex by the vest so the medics can carry you out, wrestling him away as he barks and whines in protest. johnny stays with the canine while you're in surgery and for the days you're asleep, making sure he's fed and allowing him to sleep in his room so he won’t be alone – despite how uncomfortable it makes him, and how little sleep he gets because of it.
it's four days until you wake up.
he's not the first to find out, but as soon as the words reach his ears he’d racing down the corridors and bursting through the infirmary doors with enough intensity to make you jump out of your skin. the sight of you sitting up and talking to price almost has his eyes watering again, but he pushes that urge down.
he approaches your bed more carefully, a wobbly smile pulling at his lips under your warm gaze. with an understanding look, price is patting him on the shoulder as he passes by and leaving the two of you alone with each other.
"aren't you a sight for sore eyes," johnny grins, taking a seat in the chair next to your bed and grasping your hand in his. a smile lifts your features as he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there as a heat rises in his cheeks.
"i could say the same, my knight in shining armour." you reply, moving your hand to cradle the side of his head and smoothing your thumb over his brow. he revels in the contact, the tension bleeding from his muscles under your touch. "where's rex?"
"he's fine, i made sure." he reassures you, and you let out a sigh of relief at his words, visibly relaxing into the pillows holding you up. "tried sneakin' him in here, but the nurses wouldn't have it."
a laugh escapes you, the sound still managing to make his heart feel light, even all these months later. "can't imagine why," you tease, gently nudging his head as he chuckles along with you.
it feels like a weight is lifted from his shoulders, finally having you with him again. his eyes flutter shut as the relief washes over him, and a minute passes where neither of you speak, simply basking in each other's presence.
there's a scratching sound at the door that interrupts the peace and quiet, and the two of you share a knowing smile. not a moment later, the door is being pulled open just enough for rex to slip through and skid towards your bed on the linoleum floor, wagging his tail at breakneck speed.
before the door can completely close, johnny catches a glimpse of gaz’s mischievous grin and groans, but he doesn't have time to yell at him before he’s out of sight and rex is distracting him by leaping onto your bed.
you wheeze as your canine braces his paws on your chest and begins his assault on your face, licking every inch of skin he can reach with a series of excited chuffs and narrowly missing johnny’s head with his swinging tail.
"hi rex! you saved my life, didn’t you boy?" you giggle, affectionately ruffling his fur and planting kisses of your own on his face. "who’s a good boy? who’s the best sniffer dog ever?"
johnny clears his throat, drawing your attention to him as you cuddle rex to your chest. "i don’t want’a blow my own horn here, but i saved yer life too…" he gives you that lopsided grin, a playful glint in his eyes that makes you laugh again.
"you want some pets too?" you chuckle, reaching over and dragging his head over to you by a hand on the back of his neck. "good job, johnny, you’re a good boy too." you coo, pressing your lips to his forehead and the tip of his nose as you ruffle his mohawk like rex’s fur.
the effect is immediate. his cheeks burn again with a striking red blush, and he chokes on his breath in bashful embarrassment under your ministrations. he hopes you haven't noticed his reaction, but the way your laugh bubbles up again he can tell you’ve caught on.
"i think i like that more than i should, bonnie." he mutters, pressing his forehead against yours and allowing his eyes to flutter shut. you hum sweetly, your warm breath fanning over his face.
"don’t short circuit on me yet, soap, you still owe me a date."
tagging: @cheezbites
#soap x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#mw2 x reader#cod x reader#141 x reader#call of duty x reader#mw2#cod mw2#call of duty#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish#roosterr writes
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— 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝓊𝓈𝓉 ౨ৎ
okkotsu yuta x f!reader. 2.1k wc. ﾉ nsfw (mdni) ﾉ characters aged 21+ ﾉ step-brother!yuta ﾉ stepcest ﾉ dubcon (via alcohol) ﾉ hand job ﾉ mentions of blow jobs
when your mother remarries and yuta comes into your life to fill the role of step-brother, you aren’t exactly sure what to expect.
you’ve never had a brother before, no one to threaten boys in an attempt to discourage them from breaking your heart or annoy you when you have friends over for the night. and you anticipate that he’ll fit the mold, fall into the standard that’s been set by your friends. as unfamiliar as you are with siblings of the male variety—you don’t consider yuta’s behavior as brotherly.
he’s kind, and you suppose that’s a trait that can be attached to brothers—but not in the way yuta is nice. there’s something… different about the way he smiles at you, like he’s thinking about things other than what you’re talking about, like there's something else on his mind that you aren’t privy to. it’s a pretty smile, you acknowledge every time you see, but it makes you a bit uneasy.
the things he does for you feel more like acts boyfriends take on—opening doors for you, zipping up your coat, offering to take your makeup off after a long day. it’s hard to turn him away or tell him no, especially when he insists on helping you out. how can you deny him when he wears a pout that’s practically begging for your permission to lend a hand? and, as he says, he’s your brother, after all.
you’re close, but not in the way siblings should be. he tells you a lot, things that he shouldn’t feel comfortable telling his sister, things about his relationships that you have no business knowing, that make your cheeks warm up and your teeth bite down on your lip. he asks about yours, too, curious to know whether or not the boys you bring around are satisfying you, “the way they should be,” he likes to say. you’re never quite sure how to answer him or just why he’s so interested in parts of your life that are meant to be private.
things have gotten even stranger since the two of you moved out of your parent’s home, relocating to live on your own and start lives outside of your family unit. yuta still makes an effort to visit you often, going out of his way to make sure the apartment you end up renting isn't too far from his. you’re sure that if it were up to him, he’d have you living in his spare room.
he’s over your place now with the intention of “catching up” despite seeing you only a week ago. his presence in your home has become a normal one, so much so that you’ve gone out of your way to get him his own pair of slippers and even make sure that your fridge is always stocked with enough food for two.
neither of you has paid the dinner you made much mind, you focusing on your wine and yuta focusing on you. you’ve almost gotten used to being the subject of his dark stare, but you’ll admit that meeting it is a little easier with alcohol in your system. another sip of the beverage is enough for you to find your voice. “so, how’s that girl you’ve been seeing?”
whether it’s because your living room is dimly lit or because you’re starting to feel the effects of the wine, you swear you see yuta deflate with your question. the lighting isn’t tricking you—his shoulders do slump a bit upon hearing your query. he knows he’s forthcoming with information regarding his relationships but he thought he made the fact clear; that all of these girls are simply placeholders for the one he truly wants. you don’t seem to have caught on. “i’m not seeing her anymore.”
you snort, swirling your wine in its glass. “what was it about this one?”
yuta’s turnover rate with girlfriends is something to gawk at—you don’t think you could count the number of women he’s wooed over the years even if you tried… not that you’ve ever found yourself keeping track. it should be a glaring red flag, how quickly he moves on from one to the next without batting an eye, but you merely chalk it up to him being a bit of a player. and that much should mean nothing to you. guys who sleep around aren’t your type and even if you didn’t mind the lifestyle, yuta is off-limits.
not that you’ve ever thought of him in that way.
yuta shrugs. “she just wasn’t right for me.”
“is anyone?” a giggle bubbles up from your chest and it makes yuta’s heart jump, bang against his ribcage like it’s trying to escape and make its way into your hands. he’s met with a sick thought, a little voice in the back of his head whispering that your hands are where his heart belongs. “you know, you’re super picky.”
he grins at your claim. it wouldn’t be untrue to say that he has acquired a specific taste, a fixed hunger, over the past few years. “picky” isn’t quite the right word—he prefers “particular”. “i’m not, i just know what i want.”
you nod, bringing your glass to your lips. “and what’s that?”
“you.”
the little bit of wine that made it into your mouth is sputtered back into the glass as yuta’s confession wafts through the air. you’re too busy trying to compose yourself to see the way the corners of yuta’s mouth twitch at your reaction—how his gaze falls to your lips to watch how you lick them to clean up the mess of wine.
you’ve always thought that he’s treated you like someone other than a sister but you never imagined he’d come right out and say it, and so shamelessly, at that. your cheeks heat up as the single word hangs in the air, the warmth spreading up to the tips of your ears and some other place that you try not to acknowledge.
what’s worse, the admission doesn’t make your stomach churn in disgust. it doesn’t urge you to stand up and kick him out—tell him not to come back and leave you alone for good. because as much as you like to deny it, to push those sickening feelings down into the deepest, darkest depths of you, there’s a piece of you that feels the same.
“you’ve thought about it, too, haven’t you?” yuta’s voice cuts through the thick, suffocating air surrounding you. there’s an edge to his tone that you haven’t heard before that has you dragging your bashful gaze up to his.
“it’s okay. there’s nothing wrong with it,” he reassures you as if he can hear the doubts swimming in your head like angry piranhas. his hand finds yours and you jump at the contact but you don’t pull away. the pad of his thumb runs over your knuckles, calloused skin comforting you in a way it shouldn’t as he continues. “we’re not actually related—only by title.”
“yeah but… what would people think?” it’s taboo, you know that much—it’s why you’ve been so hellbent on suppressing those nagging feelings of attraction throughout the years. though, with his confession now out in the open, those very feelings are trying to crawl their way up from the depths of your chest—they’re surfacing.
“no one has to know.” yuta lightly shakes his head to emphasize his point. the eyes staring you down are glistening with desire, like your question has given the man hope for a long sought-after fantasy. “we can keep it between us… our little secret.”
you chew the inside of your cheek as you ponder over his suggestion. the rational part of you is screaming to snatch your hand away and point him to the door but the part of you led by longing and lust urges you to stay put, to see this through. the two thoughts are like a floating angel and devil on each of your shoulders, both of them whispering in your ear, playing tug-of-war to see which side will win your favor.
the push you need to make a decision comes in the form of yuta himself, the man lifting your hand from your lap to his lips. a light kiss brushes your knuckles before he guides your palm to the tent between his legs. you suck in a surprised gasp at the contact your hand makes with the hard bulge.
“see what you do to me?” yuta breathes out, light and airy, “only you can do this to me.”
a twisted sense of pride sprouts in your chest upon hearing his declaration. yuta has never hidden the fact that you’re special to him but you never imagined just how special that was. the statement gives you the confidence to touch him of your own will, hand tentatively rubbing over his clothed erection.
yuta lets out a shattered breath and the sound has your hand stilling and your gaze darting up to his—like a bunny spooked by unexpected commotion. his free hand makes its way up to cradle the side of your face, thumb running up and down your cheek. “keep going, baby.”
you swallow and nod your head, hand picking up where it left off in its exploration over his jeans. as pretty as the quiet moans yuta releases into the air are, you can’t help but think it would feel better—for the both of you—if there wasn’t a denim barrier between the two of you.
your fingers reluctantly reach for his belt before pausing in their path. you look up at him through your eyelashes. “c-can i?”
yuta didn’t think it was possible for him to get even more turned on—not after your initial acceptance, not after he finally felt your touch, but your questions has his pants growing uncomfortably tighter. you’ve always been cute in his eyes but your asking for permission gives him all the more reason to find you absolutely adorable. “please.”
dark eyes follow your fingers as they fumble to unbuckle the man’s belt. you’re not sure whether your shaky hands are due to nerves or excitement but the trembling doesn’t go unnoticed by yuta and when you get his pants and boxers down his hips, he places a steady hand on your quivering one.
it’s warm and big around yours and you don’t question his action, only let him take your hand, guide it to the cock you’ve just pulled out. you’re no longer afraid to admit that you’ve thought about it before—what yuta’s cock looked like. it’s different seeing the real thing and you find your mouth drying with the sight, lips parted as yuta continues to steer your hand.
both of you gasp when your palm meets his skin, dragging beads of precum down yuta’s shaft with his guidance. beyond your mingled breaths, the lewd squelching that accompanies each assisted stroke of yuta’s cock sounds in the otherwise quiet air.
yuta grunts as he helps you jerk his cock, a pleasure he’s never felt before washing over him. “f-fuck—” he chokes out, “i knew you’d feel this good.”
your hand alone is better than any mouth or pussy he’s been in—it fits like a glove, fingers grazing every vein just right, brushing over his slit, squeezing his shaft. god—if your hand feels this good, yuta can only imagine what it’ll be like to have your lips wrapped around him, to be buried in the warmth of your cunt. he wonders if you know just what effect you have on him, if you’re aware of how much of a mess the mere thought of you turns him into.
the moment you look up at him with those doe-ish eyes of yours, he can’t hold out any longer.
and with a series of strangled moans, yuta comes, ropes of warm cum shooting over your joined hands. you can feel him soften in your hand as you stroke his cock through his high, his musical whimpers meeting your ears.
when he finds his voice, yuta speaks up. “made me come so good.”
his hand finally lifts from yours and you’d complain about the cold, empty feeling if it wasn’t relocated beneath your chin. yuta tips your head up, leaning down to steal a kiss. his lips are pillowy and soft as they dance with yours and you moan into his mouth when his tongue seeks yours. it’s a messy, wet kiss, but one that has you yearning for more—more of his lips, more of his cock, more of him.
you let out a muffled squeal when you feel yourself reclining, yuta’s weight and imposing presence hovering above you as you come to lie back on the couch. you suck in a breath after yuta pulls away. he presses his forehead against yours, meeting your widened gaze.
“let me take care of you, baby.”
heyooo ! this is my first time writing a solo piece for yuta — it was fun! hope you enjoyed and if you did, consider reblogging and offering some feedback :3
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen#yuta x reader#yuuta x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#yuta smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen drabbles#𐙚 after hours#cw stepcest
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Love Thy Enemy
Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.
A/N; HI!!! Its been a long time since I wrote a series but i cannot resist Feyd. English isn''t my first language so go easy on me. There will be smut in the future chapters. TAG LIST IS OPEN!!!!!! (Reader has a lover and Feyd's going to find out lol 😉😉😉)
Warnings; None. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha, enemies to lovers! reader is reffered to as she/her.
Words; 1.520K
Chapter 2
Chapter One – ‘’Meeting in flesh and blood’’
‘’Right behind you!’’ Irulan screamed as she was riding her horse to match Y/N’s. Y/N was a skilled rider, the wind in her long hair, she laughed at Irulan’s attempt of winning the race and focused on the finish line. Planet Kaitian which was the second Capital of the Corrino Empire had so many opportunities for Padishah Emperor Shaddam’s daughter Irulan and his beloved Y/N. The planet had forests, lakes and rivers so Y/N didn’t miss much of her home planet Caladan, she sometimes tossed and turned in her bed thinking of her family members but she was taken to Kaitain years ago. Irulan and Y/N were the same age and when Shaddam couldn’t have more children he asked Duke Leto Atreides to bring his first born daughter to be sisters with Irulan. Leto tried to find so many ways to refuse Padishah Emperor yet he was the ultimate power in the entire galaxy and Leto had no choice but to give his daughter Y/N. She was one years old when the arrangements were made. She could see her family at political events or celebrations, she had been in Caladan few times yet she felt stranger to the planet and she felt stranger to Kaitain as well. She has always wondered if, by any chance one day she would feel the sensation of ‘’being at home’’ nowhere and no one was her home. Maybe this was her fate.
When she finished the race her horse calmed down, Irulan followed behind. ‘’I swear you’re cheating and I am going to find out.’’ She was joking of course, Irulan and Y/N had a close relationship yet Y/N never forgot that she was a princess and there for needed to be treated more cautiously than the other lords and ladies of the galaxy. Together they hopped off of their horses, ‘’Walk with me.’’ Irulan’s voice was soft yet direct. Her short blonde hair got messy, hem of her white long dress covered in mud, she was carefree when she was with Y/N.
Y/N had the color of her house Atreides. Green. Her green dress felt so light, they were walking on the grass for few minutes in silence., Y/N knew that Irulan wanted to say something.
Palace’s gardens were evergreen, gardeners achieved perfection. Gardens smelled of flowers at any time of the year. Irulan stopped in her tracks, they turned to soak in the scenery before their eyes, the entire planet was under their feet. Servants’ chatters could be heard, no matter what they were never alone. ‘’Soon my father will throw a ball for me.’’ She looked distant, Padishah Emperor Shaddam never had parties without a solid reason, it must be political. Before Y/N could ask Irulan explained simply, ‘’I will meet the man I have to marry.’’ Y/N knew one day that she had to marry someone in order to protect the power they had over the galaxy but she never thought the date would come this quick. Y/N had already a lover, only Irulan knew because he was from a lower house. She had a childish hope that one day she would marry him.
Irulan laughed in sarcasm, ‘’How I wish to be you, sister!’’ it was obvious that Irulan dreaded the situation.
There were no arrangements for Y/N and she was free for a long time or so she thought.
‘’I trust in Emperor’s decision. He won’t wed you to someone unworthy.’’ She tried to encourage her dear friend but Irulan stood there like a stone. ‘’Let’s head back.’’ Y/N said. A hollow silence followed them to the dining hall. Emperor couldn’t attend because he was dealing with preparations of the ball. The white marble fire place was lit and orange colors danced in the room, the dining hall was adorned with lavish furniture and a long wooden table. The wood came from Giedi Prime, it was called Pilingitam.
Irulan seemed troubled, ‘’What’s on your mind sister?’’ Y/N asked. She was concerned for her, if she knew that she had to be concerned for herself…
She watched Irulan’s palm slithering on the Pilingitam table,’’ Majority of the houses will be at the ball,’’ she looked up to meet Y/N’s curious eyes, ‘’The Harkonnens will be too.’’ Y/N’s blood ran cold, she remembered the times where Emperor used to take them to Giedi Prime for political reasons. They had to sit and watch the games in the black and white arena. Gladiators killing each other…
She remembered a boy with pure blue eyes and full lips, ‘’I will fight there too when I’m old enogh.’’ He was sitting next to Y/N in his black outfit. He closed the tiny gap between him and Y/N, and he spoke quietly, ‘’Will you come and watch me?’’ he was speaking as if killing was a normal act. His knee touching Y/N’s, she remembered distinctly that the boy interlaced his little finger with hers. They were ten and yet Y/N could see Baron Vladimir’s influence on his poor nephew.
Y/N didn’t need to go back in her memories to detest the Harkonnens. Their families were in and out of war for centuries. Thankfully for a long time peace was kept. ‘’I will manage.’’ She insured Irulan with a genuine smile yet it wasn’t enough. Y/N brushed it off, after dinner she had mental training anyways.
Until the day of the ball she corresponded with her lover, Pyramus
He was a tall man with dark curls and jet black eyes. His beard always tickled her face.
She spent her days training and accompanying Irulan. Irulan grew restless as the they approached.
One by one the ships started to arrive, one could look up to the busy blue sky and see. Y/N’s family arrived early to see her and spend time with her. Lady Jessica, her mother, immediately questioned her about Y/N’s Bene Gesserit training, Duke Leto was happy to see her daughter once again. Paul, her one year younger brother gave her a tight hug.
They were united once more, she escorted them to their quarters in the palace and retrieved to get ready for the event. She wore a green dress with emeralds on her chest and waist, her maid braided her hair in Atreides style. She also wore an emerald tiara. Paul Atreides knocked on her door to escort her to the ball room, he looked sharp in his dark green suit. ‘’You seem nervous.’’ He questioned, -Y/N knew that her mother was teaching Bene Gesserit ways to her brother,- yes she was nervous because she was going to be reunited with her lover. ‘’Too many people.’’ She responded. Servants were running with food and wine on the corridors, music could be heard from a distance. Members of houses were having conversations about spice, politics, etc.
The doors of the room were open, inside was lit by the yellow warm lights coming from glowglobes, guests laughing and drinking. Tallest member was Baron Vladimir due to hanging in the air, eating like a mad man but she ignored him.
Her eyes searching for her lover, so blind to an outsider who got her under his radar.
Paul and Y/N walked to the table of their house, ‘’You look lovely my girl.’’ Duke Leto kissed her daughter’s forehead, it didn’t go unnoticed by a certain someone. He was a snake, silently slithering close to his prey.
Padishah Emperor Shaddam and his daughter Princess Irulan were announced and slowly entered the room, everyone bowed. They took their seats and Emperor greeted everyone, thanked them for coming to his feast and he also announced that he would choose the life partner of his daughter among his unmarried male guests. Duke Leto found himself watching his daughter with sad eyes, he wondered if he could see her wedding one day. Would she be happy and fortunate like him? Only time would tell but he prayed quietly.
It was time to dance, couples held each others’ hands and marched to the dance floor, Paul excused himself and went to ask the princess to dance with him. Leto happily asked Jessica to dance with him, Y/N wished that they were officially married but to keep his position as a powerful bachelor, other houses worked for him hoping that one day Duke Leto would marry one of their daughters. It was a well played game of chess on Atreides’s part. Y/N watched Irulan and Paul talking silently and dancing.
Soon Pyramus came with a huge smile. He kissed her hand and winked at her, ‘’My beautiful lady, would you be so kind and accompany me on the dance floor?’’ she tried so hard not to grin, ‘’Of course my lord.’’ He was in his house’s color, yellow. Hand in hand they mingled among the other couples, ‘’I’ve missed you.’’ He whispered. ‘’Not here.’’ She used the voice on him and his mouth closed in a second. Only their eyes talked.
They heard a rough cough and turned to face the intruder, Y/N had no idea that she would meet him in flesh and blood, ‘’Feyd…’’
#fanfiction#fanfic#reader insert#feyd rautha harkonnen#feyd x you#feyd rautha#feyd x reader#dune part two#dune part 2#dune 2#reader fanfiction#female reader#reader#x reader#austin butler fanfiction#austin butler#austin butler imagine#romance fanfic#send requests#requests are open#requests open#request#reqs open#house harkonnen#harkonnen#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha x you
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Choso getting hopelessly seduced by another blood manipulator
Jaw-Dropping gorgeous pic from none other than @sanicsmut - go check out their work here and give a big LIKE
Pairing: Choso x fem!hemomancy!reader (=basically someone who is able to use blood manipulation without jujutsu and advanced, read more here
Word Count: 2,4k
Synopsis: It seemed so easy at first: find Itadori Yuji, kill him, take revenge. Only until you showed up and captivated Choso Kamo, only until you showed him what you can...
Warnings: this gets a little smutty and heated from time to time so be prepared, reader is pretty badass I love her in this one, since this took me quite some time I'd truly appreciate you guys liking, commenting or reblogging my work - thank you <3 Also, special thanks to @yukiotacon - I truly hope you enjoy what I came up with!
Also, special thank to @sanicsmut for allowing me to use that stunning piece of art as a cover - click here to leave a like, comment or reblog for my babe ♡
„How on earth did I get here?”, you mumble to yourself, humming while walking down the empty hallways of Shibuya’s train station.
You know damn well why you’re here, roaming around this area with a clear aim.
“We’re talking about a lot of money here. Money for someone who isn’t even able to use jujutsu at the moment”, the white-haired man sitting in front of you clarified amused.
You smiled to yourself, stalked him like a hunter stalks his prey until you trapped him between your arms, a lustful grin appearing on his face.
“The success of hemomancy is as guaranteed as the fact that you’re oh so excited right now, Mr. Gojo”, you purred.
Oh, how much you enjoyed the way his heart started to pump faster immediately, how his blood began to rush into his crotch area.
“If you fail, I’ll be there to finish off what you started. And who knows, maybe even you.”
Why does it have to be so damn entertaining to play with men, to feel their blood rush through their veins? Well, what is even more exciting than that is making them kneel in front of you just before you turn their own blood against them.
Hemomancy, the magic of blood, the reason you are able to control both your own blood and the blood of others. No matter where, no matter when. Completely without their so-called jujutsu.
“Jujutsu…”
You huff in sheer amusement.
“Why on earth would you need something like that?”
“Who are you?”
Your eyes widen just the slightest bit, mind caught off guard while you search for the person who just spoke out of nowhere. How is it possible that didn’t detect the flow of this strangers’ blood earlier? Normally, you are able to catch every living being in the blink of an eye.
“Better question is who are you”, you reply dryly, eyes scanning the area in order to find this person.
His low voice tells you that he has to be a man, maybe a few metres away from you. But where? And who the fuck is he to not get caught by your powers?
“I’m not here to play games.”
Suddenly, he is near – way too near for your liking. And there it is, the presence of his blood, the way it pumps through his arm when he’s about to hit you with full force.
“I’m either.”
All it takes is a swift motion of your finger to stop his flying fist mid-air.
“There you are”, you announce provocative, turning around only to be greeted by his eyes.
You stop in your tracks. What a pair of gorgeous eyes he has, widen in utter disbelief by the fact that you have the control over his body. But not only that, you can tell that he’s well-trained underneath that cloak.
“Definitely wouldn’t mind seeing you naked”, you mutter, eyes roaming over every inch of him.
“Are you a witch?”, he presses out, arm visibly fighting against your force.
You can’t help but chuckle, the struggle written on his cute face being the most amusing thing you’ve seen in a long time. Elegantly, you kneel down next to him in order to meet him eye to eye, fingertips caressing his cheek gently.
“What are those?”
These lines decorating his face, engraved into his otherwise flawless skin. A tattoo, some strange birth mark by any chance?
“Slicing exorcism.”
It happens faster than you’re able to react. Before you even realize what’s going on, something pierces right through your shoulder, cuts through your tender flesh with ease.
No, not something.
“Blood manipulation, huh?”, you choke out, the floor underneath your feet instantly discoloured in crimson.
Choso creates distance between both of you, eyes examining every minor move you make. Who are you? You don’t seem to have any cursed energy. But how were you able to control his arm, to stop his powerful slash in the matter of milliseconds? It was almost as if…
As if you’re using a special form of blood manipulation yourself.
“Let me make this clear.”
He squints his eyes in confusion when you begin to walk towards him, your uninjured arm stretched out in front of you. A swift motion of your hand and he lands on the cold floor all over again, feeling as if an invisible weight pushes him into the earth. No matter how hard he tenses his muscles, no matter how desperately he fights against that force, he can’t escape you.
“There is no fucking way you’ll escape me, okay? Interesting, you have to be a member of the Kamo clan, am I right?”
“None of your business”, he spits into your face.
Your hand yanks towards his neck, squeezes ever so slightly while your face is only inches away from his. That dreadful gleam in your eyes, the fact that you wear a small smile on your face despite he just destroyed your shoulder forever.
“Let me tell you a secret, Mr. Kamo.”
Carefully, you drag your nail along his neck until blood spills, earning a low groan from him.
“Do you know anything about hemomancy?”
Hemomancy…No, this can’t be real. He thought the magic of blood disappeared from the surface of the earth with the new century, forgotten by the modern people. But you…He stares right into your confident face, watches in horror as you collect the trail of blood from his neck with your finger and lick it clean.
Oh, what a wonderful metallic taste, maybe one of the best droplets you ever enjoyed. Very fitting for a man like him.
“The magic of blood, the power to control both your blood and the blood of others, to create weapons of blood to use your own blood to poison, to use others to…”
“Heal”, you finish his sentence.
“You know quite a lot about hemomancy. I’m impressed.”
The weight on his shoulders disappears out of thin air, makes him yank up out of instinct. Choso watches carefully as you stretch both of your arms into the air, circle your injured shoulder…
That isn’t injured anymore.
“So you know you have absolutely no chance to defeat me, no matter how great your blood manipulation is, right?”
Choso wants to dash forward, to hit you with full force, to finally find Itadori and take revenge for the death of his brothers. But instead, he simply stands and stares at you with trembling hands. Despite every fiber of his being urges to fight against you, he knows you’re right.
“Good.”
Again, you walk towards him with your heels clicking against the hard floor. His eyes dart up and down, take in your appearance. You look absolutely threatful, maybe even more dangerous than Mahito or Geto will ever be. Why are you even here? Whose side are you on? There isn’t enough time to ask you these questions.
Your hand finds his chest, glides up onto his back ever so gently.
“What’s your name?”
“Choso Kamo”, he finally gives in.
“Choso, huh?”
You let your finger glide over his muscular chest, up to his traps made of gold until you reach his firm back. What a force of a man he is, maybe the best one you’ve seen so far.
His breath gets caught in his throat, your touch burning like a thousand fires against his skin. But no, not like pain. What is this strange feeling building up inside his body? What is this unknown urge that slowly but surely takes control over him? Choso looks down at you with flustered eyes, takes in your sight. Is this what people call attraction?
“Don’t”, he warns you half-heartedly, his hand grabbing your arm.
This is enough. He needs to get going, needs to find Yuji Itadori and kill him, he-
His arm moves around your waist on its own, pulls you closer to his aching body. Are you using your powers, are you forcing him onto you? No, his body moves freely, presses itself against you out of instinct. He was never this close to a woman before, let alone a jaw-dropping gorgeous one like you. So this is the reason why all those stupid humans hunt after each other, why unwise feelings like love even exist.
“Do you want me to leave?”
The way your thumb glides up and down his back threatens to drive him insane any minute, eyes captivated by your hypnotizing orbs.
“I don’t know”, he breathes out.
Oh, but you do. The way his blood pressure and heart rate shoot up, his blood flowing straight down. You can’t help but bite your lip, even your own breath now coming uneven and shaky. You’ve seduced countless men in your lifetime. Fuck, even Gojo himself would have nailed you right on the spot if you didn’t leave back then. But this time, the sensation of the game itself becomes incidental. This time, your own blood rushes through your body uncontrollably.
“You aren’t a human, are you? That body definitely isn’t from this world.”
You allow your needy touch to discover the valleys of his body even faster, to enjoy the sensation of his hot breath against your cheek.
“I am…incarnated.”
Incarnated? The world of jujutsu is far too complicated for you to grasp. But still, you know he has to be damn powerful, that this body holds a lot of potential. This body with all those firm muscles. This body, radiating a heat you’ve never felt before.
“Tell me, what are you doing here, Choso?”
It takes all his strength to not moan out loud, to stay focused when your hands stroke up and down his chest.
“I am here to kill Yuji Itadori”, he also reminds himself.
This is ridiculous, wrong in so many ways. Why is he out there, allowing a woman he never met before to touch him so casually when he swore to his brothers to seek revenge?
Something inside you clicks. Yuji Itadori. One of the names Gojo told you when you met.
“I see”, you purr.
“Let me ask you one more thing. Where you ever kissed before, Choso?”
Kissed. The act of caressing each other’s lips as a symbol for affection. He’s seen it countless times in many centuries and never understood the sensation of it. But now, staring at your perfect mouth, watching as your tongue wets your lips…
“No.”
You smile softly, siren eyes switching between his lips and eyes.
“What a shame when you have lips so kissable.”
With one quick movement, you put your hands on the back of his neck, pull him so close that your lips are only inches apart.
“Please.”
The innocent word escapes his lips before he’s able to stop himself, chest rising and falling so rapidly that Choso feels like fainting for a second. What is this strange feeling, the spell you put on him? It has to be the power you radiate, the way your face seems somehow appealing to him. Has he ever seen a stunning creature like you? No, you have the brightest eyes he’s ever seen, a body that makes his mind wander.
“Your plea is my command.”
When you press your lips against his, allow him to taste what kissing feels like for the very first time, something inside Choso snaps. His hand grabs your waist roughly, presses you even closer while his other hand desperately searches for hold in your hair. Screw if this is your magic, screw if it’s nothing but a foul trick. You feel so intoxicating, your lips moving so effortlessly against his own that he sees stars. You taste like mint with a tint of iron that drives him insane.
“Choso”, you whimper against his lips, your very own hands searching for hold on his tight biceps.
What a force of a man he is, a remarkable kisser despite the fact that he probably never touched a woman without killing her before. If you had known how good this feels, you wouldn’t have wasted your time on mere mortals. Not even Gojo Satoru caught your attention like he did.
Suddenly Choso feels like he can’t breathe anymore. But not from the sensation your lips have caused, not because you hold onto his neck. No, this is something different. This feels like death.
He lets go off you immediately and stumbles backwards only for you to casually follow him and catching him right before his gorgeous figure hits the ground.
“Don’t take this personal, Choso. But I can’t allow you to kill Itadori Yuji. Not when Gojo payed me a shit ton of money in order to protect his precious little students. I’m a woman who keeps her promises, y’know?”
“What…did…you…do…”
His tongue feels as heavy as concrete, the ability to control his own body slipping through his fingers with every passing second.
“You said it yourself.”
You wipe over your lips, revealing a tiny trail of blood.
“ ‘to use your own blood as poison’, wasn’t that what you just said? Don’t worry darling, I won’t kill you. But you won’t be able to kill Itadori Yuji either. Now sleep tight. I hope we meet again to continue what we started when you wake up.”
No, he needs to fight against it, he needs to get off the ground, fulfil his duty to kill Itadori Yuji. He…
The last thing he notices are your lips, gently pressed against his cheek.
And then everything went black.
Bonus:
“You have to be kidding me.”
“Why would I do that, Mr. Gojo?”
You continue casually filing your nails while none other than the one they call “the strongest” starts to have an emotional breakdown in front of you.
“I thought you felt the tension between both of us as well! You…You said to me that-“
“I needed this job”, you clarify dryly.
“And what about him!?”
He points towards Choso who is lost in his conversation with Yuji. You simply shrug your shoulders.
“He’s everything I ever wished for-“
“AND I’M NOT!? Is it because you share the same powers-“
“We don’t share the same powers-“
“Is it because he’s taller than me!?”
“He’s not taller than you.”
“Is it because he has dark hair!?”
“What the hell are you so worked up about man?”
“I need to get out of here”, he announces so dramatically that you’re convinced he’ll faint any given minute.
“Gojo-sensei, are you not feeling well?”, Yuji questions, lines of worry decorating his innocent face.
“I’m far away from feeling fine!”
“So dramatic”, you mumble to yourself.
Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#choso jjk#choso kamo#jjk choso#choso x reader#jujutsu kaisen choso#kamo choso#choso x female reader#choso x y/n#choso x you#jjk kamo#jujutsu kaisen shibuya arc#shibuya#jjk shibuya arc#jjk shibuya incident#shibuya incident#jjk season 2#jjk season two#chousou#gojo satorou#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#satoru gojo#satoru#jjk fanfic
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How do you think the dorm leaders would react to an rsa student leading/kidnapping the prefect to take them away from the 'villains', and when tracked down to a ledge and arguing with saud dorm leaders, the prefect defends them before getting accidentally pushed off? Just the look of horror on their face before they fall, reaching out for them? Ala gwen in spiderman
(I'm not going to do every dorm leader bc I normally have a cap of 5 characters per ask so if the leader you'd like to see isn't here, please feel free to send in another request
these are also all super long so they're under a cut)
Azul Ashengrotto:
Azul had been thinking since the moment you’d been taken. He figured it must be someone with a personal grudge against him, rolling his eyes at the platitude that you would be safer with them than him. The twins are even considering less annoying while he’s plotting out what to do, trying to find a way that wouldn’t leave him vulnerable to another strike while also procuring you from your kidnappers. The fact they even agreed to a meeting proved to Azul that they were a devious soul, hidden behind a mist of chivalry when their wants were just as selfish as anyone at NRC. He comes into the conversation thinking he has everything under control, not in the least bit surprised when it turns into a real fight; his magic is at the ready, hand raised and prepared to do what he must to end this when you move outside of his predictions. He would have to viciously scold you for this later but he’s too worried to think about the angry rant he’ll go on for not just trusting in him to be ready no matter what. When you’re tumbling to the ground, he squeezed the handle of the broom he had brought with him, hating the concept of being in the air but feeling even more sick about all his hard work being for nothing (meaning: he would be heartbroken and would not know what to do with himself should you end up perishing on him here). It’s a little washy, but the carefully thought out Plan B ended with you scooped in his arms, his flying wobbly at best but once there’s a safe place to land you feel much safer with him around. When you ask what might happen to the RSA student Azul simply smiled, telling you not to worry about it as Jade and Floyd wouldn’t leave behind a single trace of what occurred that night.
Idia Shroud:
Idia is fighting a storm of emotions, doing his best to not to lose his cool in such a fragile situation. He had to observe the options before him carefully, hoping his perception skill was high enough to afford him a break. It felt like having someone ripped away from him again, the past repeating before his very eyes, and while he knew the stakes were much less serious than the previous situation he’d gone through, it still set his anxiety through the roof. He considered begging you to just stay in your room like he did so he wouldn’t have to worry about you putting yourself in danger (his thoughts darting away from the concept of you just living in a room with him). Idia isn’t used to sticking his neck out for someone else but he knew you, and he knew defending him if the moment called for it would come to you as easy as breathing. He had Ortho prepared for any QTE’s that might be outside of Idia’s control, thankful that the second controller was plugged in before he arrived as you did exactly as he predicted. He can see the fear on your face and while he does want to call out to you to let you know you’ll be safe, it would be better to keep the enemy unaware of the surprise attack awaiting once Ortho got you to safety. With you out of the way Idia felt much more at ease, the sharp grin on his face appearing almost manic to his enemy, who found themselves wondering if they should follow you off the ledge.
Leona Kingscholar:
Leona was doing his best to keep a poker face on. When it came to others thinking they were better than him, he was no stranger, but to know they had taken away someone he loved—he was prepared to show them what a real villain looked like. He navigated the situation carefully, this was just a risky game of chess in his eyes but he didn’t realize quite how risky it was until your life was dangling right before his eyes. He’s not unaware of how something can change in the blink of an eye, the scale could tip in either direction but he had to be prepared. He’s always been quick on his feet and there’s nothing in this world that he’d put more effort into than assuring your safety, even pushing himself to the brink of his magical abilities when he cushions the dramatic fall that easily could’ve stolen your life. The person preaching to him from above has only cemented his view that those who soar so high above don’t consider their own actions as evil, always for the ‘greater good’ which meant you were better off dead than with a ‘villain’ like him. He can’t help but scoff, eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them as there’s an unspoken promise hanging in the air: he would kill them without hesitation if they were to ever touch a hair on your head again.
Malleus Draconia:
Malleus was shocked at first, secretly hurt, that people on the outside could look in at your relationship with him and consider him a danger to you. He was careful around you, always protective and caring and wanting what’s best for you, so how could that be misconstrued? It made his blood boil to think about your kidnapper trying to turn you against him, and he felt even more powerless when your life was in someone else’s hand so he had to act with caution. He approached with an air of calm that was betrayed by his eyes, the smile not quite reaching them as he greeted your captor politely. He didn’t think he could lead them into a false sense of security because everyone knew to be on guard against him, but he’s surprised the coward even showed their face again. He’s even more surprised to see you attempt to sacrifice yourself for him, reaching out for you and feeling helpless again as you slip right through his fingers; he refused to lose, his hands moving quicker than his brain was as he cast a last ditch effort spell to stop your fragile human body from becoming a stain on the ground. He’s relieved to see that his quick thinking had resulted in saving your life, the vines wrapped around your arms and legs like a comforting hug. He’s thankful he learned how to use the spell without including thorns, but his thoughts are now elsewhere, turning to look at his enemy with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. He tells them they should feel quite lucky that you’re in one piece, as if you had died, Malleus would have tormented their family for generations to come, if he allowed them to exist after this at all.
Riddle Rosehearts:
Riddle is trying to keep his cool, as Trey advised it was best he do so, but it was hard not to feel anger for the complete disrespect that was being shown. How could they think taking you away from your education would be the best route? From a place that you were thriving? If they thought he was doing a poor job as a dorm leader helping you, than they could’ve offered the criticism personally rather than causing you to break a hundred rules within the span of a day. He has to stop himself from raising his voice or going on a rant when he sees how frightened you are, feeling baffled again that this RSA student considered themself some sort of savior when they weren’t taking you into consideration at all. Even he had to learn a lesson or two in regards to it, and he considers it his turn to teach that lesson, challenging them to a duel that would decide where you would end up. Riddle, trusting in his opponents intent to have an honest duel, turned his back to get in place but is shocked to hear the other person winding their spell up already. Your interference is the only reason he’s in one piece but it was at the sacrifice of your own well-being; Riddle cried out your name, nearly panicking as he missed your hand by milliseconds. He can hear the chanting in his head, the word ‘failure’ stamped with bolded red letters, and he nearly lost himself in grief until he sees that Trey and Cater had tailed him. Now that he knew you were safe his face began to grow red, his complete rage turned on the RSA student who would learn the true definition of ‘off with your head’!
#Twisted Wonderland#Disney Twisted Wonderland#TWST#Disney TWST#TWST Imagines#TWST x Reader#Twisted Wonderland x Reader#Leona Kingscholar#Idia Shroud#Azul Ashengrotto#Malleus Draconia#Riddle Rosehearts#Leona Kingscholar x Reader#Idia Shroud x Reader#Malleus Draconia x Reader#Azul Ashengrotto x Reader#Riddle Rosehearts x Reader
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So fun fact about me irl I work with children but often my teacher language slips out like telling my friends to say “bye bye bus”, telling another person in my lecture writing to “be nice to the pencil, it’s your friend.” And greeting a roomful of grown as adults with good morning boys and girls. It’s mortifying but How do you think the companions would react to having a teacher!tav slip up like that.
Dealing with a Teacher Tav
[Bg3, fluff, platonic kinda, nb!reader]
[Gale, Shadowheart, Laezel, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira, Minsc]
Gale
He delightfully plays along whenever you tell him to thank a stranger or say goodbye to an inanimate object. He thinks it's very silly and joyous.
Teachers have always been a big part of his life, it doesn't phase him in the slightest when you unawarly awake the deep memories of being in wizards pre-school for him.
Says good morning to you back, adding a teacher honorific at the end for the sake of being playful while asking if you've finally graded the homework he handed in.
He gives you an apple occasionally. He thinks he is very hilarious.
Shadowheart
She freezes in awkwardness whenever it happens, not sure if you’re being serious or just playing around. Sometimes, you don't even register slipping up as go on with your day, leaving her wondering if she's imagining things.
She has zero experience with the school system, completely confused by the need to say thank you for carriage after it arrived. It's just a carriage, why should she?
One time while her and Laezel were arguing, you used the same call you'd use in the classroom to get the kids to quiet down and it completely caught them both off guard. They just stood there baffled, forgetting their original argument.
Laezel
Why, yes, she is very familiar with teachers. In fact, she was the best out of her class, ask any githyanki teacher, and they'd tell you endless praise about her throat cutting techniques and sword welding stances.
You, whoever, use very unusual teaching techniques. How would learning a song about washing your hand and brushing your teeth help her in slaying her enemies?
Intriguing, so you take advantage of the brain's tendency to latch on to phrases that rhyme, which makes them easier to remember? And you encode your melodies with instructions to embed them into the impressionable youth?
Huh. She actually is impressed. She made her decision, you will lend your teaching skills to help her embed the most effect way of fracturing someone's spine into a melody to spread to the githyanki children.
Wyll
As someone who has been an unofficial teacher for so many kids throughout his years, he can relate to your struggle a lot. He slips up more than he cares to admit.
The both of you meeting early in the morning while still groggy and tired, your brains working on automatic mods as you greet each other with the same high pitched enthusiastic voice you use to greet a toddler.
Then just stare at each other, complete understanding between the two of you. Like two people accidentally using their customer service voice in front of the other.
You struggle to tie your boots once, and he unconsciously bends down to tie them for you while using the rabbit loop euphemism, only to stop in his tracks as he realises what he's doing.
He uses a curse word once, and you immediately use your teachers voice and say, "we don't speak like that here, that's wasn't very nice."
You're both tired, you both need a nap and neither of you brings it up when the other slips.
Karlach
Much like Gale, she finds it extremely amusing. Top tier comedy to her. Unlike Gale, she hasn't been to any proper schooling system, so she doesn't exactly know what most of these phrases mean or imply.
In a way, it lets her pretend she was a part of something like a school in her youth, like she could've had a normal childhood like everyone else.
She'd indulge you, saying goodbye and thank you to the pigeon that delivered her a letter, or overhearing Wyll's rabbit loop ryhme and whispering it under her breath as she ties her own boots. Who knew this could've been so easy?
Astarion
You remind him of how Leon was with his daughter back in Cazador's manor. Astarion never was close with any of them, but still, he sometimes overheard him attempting to give his daughter a semblance of a normal childhood and growth.
It's endearing when you accidentally use your teaching ways while dealing with the owlbear cub, but he'll never admit it.
Doesn't indulge you with it, he has appearance to keep. Well, unless he has a chance to twist your innocent meaning words into a sex or gorey joke like the 12y old humour that he has.
Ah, the scrowl on your face is the exact same one Leon had around him, such fond memories.
Halsin
Ah, you bring him back to his old days of having to deal with the children at the grove. Although his methods focused more on showing them that nature is a friend rather than inanimate objects.
But who is he to judge your ways? If anything he could learn a thing or two from you to add to his skillset.
Tells you about the fables that were passed down from elf to elf throughout the generations, animal stories have always done a great part in teaching him morality.
Do you happen to have any? Maybe you could tell it to the children of the grove, they are good kids.
Minthara
As a noble, she was only given the best and most prestigious of teachers while growing up. Even the ones that weren't a drow would still be considered the best of the best, crème de la crème.
Yet not a single one of them applied such...childish methods. etiquette and discipline were taught by the lash and threat of punishment, not lullabies and gentle guidance.
....it's not as bad as she imagined.
She doesn't get why some of your companions find it amusing. She doesn't bother indulging either.
But sometimes, sometimes, when it's just the two of you, and she is sure not a single soul is around, she will reply with a pun with the most deadpan face expression you've seen.
Jaheira
Despite what most would think, she actually integrated the same methods into her teachings back when her kids were little, it just happened to be weaved with her more dangerous lifestyle ascept.
Here comes the plane, with the airplane usual holding a good dosage amount of poison to build resistance.
A short rhyme about what to check before leaving the house, except the list has a suspicious amount of daggers and trap disarm kits in it.
If it works, it works, so what if she had to alter a kid's book about a honey loving yellow bear into one with decipherable texts to teach them Harpers' secret communication language.
Minsc
Ah! Boo does use the same method on him sometimes, the two of you have a lot in common. Although Boo's methods do involve a bit of biting every now and then.
Say, how about he teaches you some fables from Rashemen, a lot of them are about a rabbit who got lost after not listening to his witch frog companion.
You could use it in your teachings later! Show the youth the importance of good teamwork. Yes, he is aware of the fact he didn't listen to Jaheira and got captured by the cult. No, he doesn't see why this is relevant? Why is Boo suddenly agreeing with you? He is supposed to be on his side.
#♡Gale#♡Shart#♡Astarion#♡Laezel#♡Wyll#♡Minthara#♡Halsin#♡Jaheira#♡Minsc#♡Karlach#♡fluff#♡several characters#gale x reader#shadowheart x reader#astarion x reader#karlach x reader#wyll x reader#minthara x reader#halsin x reader#jaheira x reader#Minsc x reader#bg3 x reader#bg3 fluff#baldur's gate 3 x reader#laezel x reader
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"But Lokius isn't even canon! Stop making everything gay!"
...
The Loki series isn't just about romantic relationships and shouldn't be seen as so. However, there is a lot of subtext. Maybe this ship is not canon, but it was intended to be seen as so by the fans.
If Lokius isn't canon, then why were the last two shots of the series showing Mobius and Loki?
If Lokius isn't canon, why would there be so much touching and scenes so physically close to one another? (believe me I know they're friends. that just offers a solid base for something more)
If Lokius isn't canon, why is there an OFFICIAL track named like that?
Why is said track played or incorporated in different scenes of the series? like
-the first McDonalds meeting with Sylvie,
-the back-in-time conversation with Kang
- the ASCENSION to the throne?
Why is the Sylvie and Loki kiss never mentioned, by the producers, in the series per se, or even in the season 1 recap?
Why is Mobius the only one looking at Loki when he leaves down to the temporal loom?
And the other way around, why did Loki only make eye contact with Mobius in that scene?
Why is Mobius the only one to notice there is something wrong when Loki is still trying to fix the Loom?
Why did Mobius/Don on the original timeline, mention he's single, trust a complete stranger, invite him for a drink, AND offer to sell him a quite personal jet-ski?
Why did Loki, the LITERAL GOD OF MISCHIEF stutter and fix his hair and coat for no one else but Mobius (who by the way is just a jetski salesman on that timeline)?
Why is the timeslipping Loki had to go through directed to Mobius twice, him being the the only one he doesn't need a TemPad to "recruit"?
Why would Loki bring up Thor and Jane if it wasn't to mirror him and Mobius? (because, as he already was talking to Sylvie, he certainly wasn't implying it's about her. They were arguing, AND Mobius was implied in the conversation. Loki defended him in front of Sylvie, in case you forgot.)
Why would Mobius's voice be the one to echo back to Loki on his throne? let time pass time pass time pass
Why the RAINBOW?
WHY DID LOKI LOOK AT MOBIUS RIGHT BEFORE THE FAMOUS LINE "IT'S ABOUT WHO"? (important mention: Sylvie was behind him when he said that. why didn't he just turn around when saying it? nope, they know what they're doing)
Why is the shot cut to Mobi after Loki's "it was more about what I wanted" line?
Why the shot where 7 characters could've been showed (Mobius, Loki, Sylvie, B-15, Casey, O.B., Victor Timely) there are only 2: Mobius and Loki?
Why is Mobius the only one to tell Loki he can be someone good, and the first one Loki actually believes despite his tendency to do the other way around in the past?
Why does Mobius finally find insight, and reinvent his whole life at the TVA because Loki helped him do so? (they're not even the first Loki variant he faced, but something clicked this time)
Why does the bloody sleeve, representing Loki being hurt by Sylvie just because he "wore his heart on his sleeve" disappear on episode 2? (because he finally understands who he needs to be next to)
Why did Mobius risk his life on the first episode?
Why did Loki go to past Mobius for the final advice, not to the present one, not to Sylvie?
Why did Loki ultimately sacrifice his life for the ones he loves?
And why is Mobius left alone, with the door locked, after Loki leaves in the Loom's radiation?
Why would there be so much endearing looks, and smiles at each other, if not for a conscious acting choice?
Why why why why why if it isn't canon?
Nothing is for nothing. Especially in television, where everything counts from the light to the angles and the way the lines are spoken.
We don't need to see two characters kiss to know they are made for one another. In fact, I think implied canon is so much better for now, because it leaves free interpretation for the fans, and nothing to strike on for the haters.
Of course, that doesn't change the fact that the ending is still tragic, although it holds its sweet from bittersweet. But remember: there aren't tragedies without love.
#yeah that's my rant about these two because we can't just ignore how implied canon they are#there is probably much more I didn't grasp#loki series#lokius#marvel#mobius#loki#owen wilson#tom hiddleston#tom hiddleston loki#comics#art#cinema#mcu#writing#fun#a tragedy#with nothing greek in it#midnights#miss minutes#sylvie#sylvie laufeydottir#frigga#odin#variants#lady sif#theater#time theatre#queer community
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Alright GO fans, let's talk Sodom and Gomorrah. This biblical story comes up a few times in Good Omens canon, a kind of offhand mention each time, and the most interesting part to me is the implication that Aziraphale was there.
If you only know the cliff-notes version, you've probably heard it as the story of God condemning homosexuality to the point of wiping out several cities over it. Maybe you've heard this too, but - that's not exactly what happened. Look, I'm an atheist, I have no dog in this race. If I thought it was about smiting people for homosexuality, I'd be happy to call God a wanker and move on. But I've read the story of Sodom and Gomorrah (You can too! It's very short!) and I've read other parts of the Bible that reference it, and I think a much more straightforward interpretation is that it's about offering hospitality and protection to strangers. It's also about the consequences of wanton cruelty, and God laying waste to those deemed beyond salvation.
In Good Omens, the book, Aziraphale and Crowley discuss Sodom and Gomorrah this way:
"Come off it. Your lot get ineffable mercy," said Crowley sourly.
"Yes? Did you ever visit Gomorrah?"
"Sure," said the demon. "There was this great little tavern where you could get these terrific fermented date-palm cocktails with nutmeg and crushed lemongrass-"
"I meant afterwards."
"Oh."
According to the book, then, Aziraphale at least saw the city after it was destroyed. Maybe Crowley saw the aftermath too or maybe he just heard about it. They both understand it as horrific.
The show is more direct, and suggests that Aziraphale was there during the actual destruction. Gabriel asks if Aziraphale remembers Sandalphon. Aziraphale does.
"Sodom and Gomorrah. You were doing a lot of smiting and turning people into salt. Hard to forget."
Aziraphale regards Sandalphon warily during the conversation. I believe we're supposed to interpret this scene based on the popular understanding of Sodom and Gomorrah as cities that God wiped out because of the inhabitants' sins. The obvious implication, then, is that Sandalphon is the heavy, the one called in to deal with disobedience. He's trigger-happy, relishes violence, and Aziraphale has seen what he's capable of. From the careful way Aziraphale discusses their prior acquaintance, I think he feels the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah was a tragedy and believes Heaven's actions were disproportionate and unjust.
I'm confident this is how we're supposed to read the scene. In the context of the story, we're supposed to understand that Aziraphale doesn't approve of the smiting, and that he feels threatened by Gabriel and Sandalphon coming into his bookshop and pressing him about Armageddon. But I'm fascinated by what it would mean if Aziraphale and Sandalphon's history really tracks onto the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. Because if Good Omens' version of Sodom and Gomorrah is at all biblically accurate, and if Aziraphale was there... it's kind of mind-blowing, actually, that he still feels so much compassion for the people who died and still thinks Sandalphon was wrong.
I'm going to explain why, but fair warning, it gets ugly. I promise nobody is actually raped, and I think that promise in itself says plenty.
According to the Bible, Sodom and its surrounding cities are accused of being overrun with sin. God sends two angels to Sodom to verify this, intending to destroy everything if they find it to be true. In the world of Good Omens, I think one of these angels must be Aziraphale. The other one is likely Sandalphon, but in the Bible it's God rather than either of the angels who rains down burning sulfur on the cities so it's possible it's someone else, and Sandalphon is only on smiting duty. Without anything else to go on, though, let's assume it's Sandalphon.
So our two angels arrive at Sodom in the evening, and at the gate to the city, they meet Lot. Lot is an immigrant who has made his home in Sodom, and I think the implication is that this is why he's not completely steeped in sin like everyone else. In any case, he immediately offers to put the angels up for the night, and although they'd planned to stay in the square, Lot is really insistent. He is a good host! Also, he knows the city is dangerous. So the angels go to his house and he makes dinner for them, and then before they can go to bed, a mob shows up at the door.
See, the men of Sodom have heard about the strangers staying with Lot. They surround his house and demand he hand them over. The New King James Version puts it this way: And they called to Lot and said to him, "Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us that we may know them carnally." Several other translations say that the men wanted to "have sex with them". But I mean. It's a fucking mob. They've surrounded the house. We all get what this is, right?
So Lot goes out to meet the men, and he says "Don't do this terrible thing." Off to a good start! Then he says, "Tell you what, I have two virgin daughters. Do what you like to them and we'll say no more about it." Oh boy. Dad of the year award, right there. But still, he insists, "The angels are under my roof and my protection."
The men outside Lot's house are pissed. They say, "You're an outsider, who are you to judge us?" They threaten to do worse to him than to the angels. They swarm him and almost break the door down, but the angels pull him back inside.
The angels then strike the mob with blindness to stop them getting into the house. They say to Lot, "Look, you gotta take your family and get out of here. God sent us to see how bad things were and, uh, long story short, we're burning it all to the ground. You get it, right?"
Maybe you know the rest. Lot's son-in-laws don't believe him and won't leave the city. Lot's wife looks back and turns into a pillar of salt. Lot and his daughters take shelter in a small town called Zoar, and from there flee to the mountains. Everything else is destroyed.
It is a tragedy. The plains are leveled down to ash, until there's nothing left that can even grow. Was there really no one innocent in those cities? No children or animals? (You can't kill kids). Still, I think about that awful night under Lot's roof and I don't think I could blame anyone for giving up on all of it.
So what if that's the story? There were two angels in Sodom before it fell. What if it really was Aziraphale and Sandalphon, trapped through the night in a stranger's house, surrounded by men who want to rape them. Whatever their power as angels, that has to be terrifying.
If it was Sandalphon there with Aziraphale that night in Sodom, I have to wonder what he was like. There isn't any kinship or understanding from Aziraphale. Despite knowing the circumstances better than anyone, he still sees Sandalphon as a threat. Given that, I think Sandalphon must have taken a truly disturbing kind of joy in raining down vengeful fire and brimstone, beyond what you might expect from someone who was afraid or angry. Maybe he was never afraid; maybe instead he revelled in the violence building through the night as the reason he needed to tear everything down. Maybe he was afraid in the terrible way that exposes the depths someone will sink to to protect themselves (maybe offering his daughters was never Lot's idea). Or maybe Aziraphale just tried to reach out to him afterwards, to offer understanding and ask for some in return, and Sandalphon shot him down so coldly and viciously that Aziraphale knew immediately this wasn't something he was allowed to have feelings about. Whatever happened that night, it left Aziraphale feeling more of an outsider from Heaven than ever.
But if it happened that way, it happened this way too: Aziraphale survives a night like that, and when he looks out into the breaking dawn, he thinks, these cities don't deserve to burn. He sees the good in a place that's just shown him its absolute worst. I think that says everything about him as a character, actually. Of course he won't give up on Heaven. Of course he'll fight tooth and nail for his home on Earth. Whatever the worst is, there are still things worth saving. There are still, always, people worth protecting.
On that note, before I wrap this up, I want to go back to Lot's words to the men of Sodom, and draw a parallel that makes me feel some kind of way. Because when Lot declares the angels under his protection, what he says is essentially, "Do not do anything to these men, for they have come under the shadow of my roof for protection." And all I can think about, reading these lines, is Aziraphale standing in his bookshop as it's surrounded by hostile demons, and telling the angel under the shadow of his roof, "You came to me. I said I would protect you. And I will."
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GHOSTFACE ★ masterlist.
pairing: connie x reader
genre: modern au | warnings: explicit sexual content, masked sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, quickie, squirting | wc: 4.6k
note: im tingling....and toying with a pt2...thoughts?!! plz share ૮ • ﻌ - ა
⏤ You've got no idea who dressed up as Ghostface to Eren's Halloween party, but damn, do they fuck nice.
Bassline. The thundering vibrations of Eren’s drum and bass mix seem to rattle the entire fourth floor of the apartment complex; there are feet stomping on the lino of the kitchen floor, people shouting to the dark stream of dialogue that is sampled into the tracks. The windows look as though they might shatter with the pulsing pressure of the music, and according to Jean who just went outside to the courtyard to have a cigarette, the music is so loud that it feels like it’s coming from outside the building and not within.
Eren loves drum and bass, which is why it came as little surprise to everybody in attendance of his Halloween party that majority of this playlist has been of the same genre.
The only real complaint you can find about the music is that some of the tracks are too long and too repetitive, and since about fifteen minutes ago when you found yourself bent over in one of the storage cupboards in the hallway with some stranger’s cock shoved up your cunt, you don’t think the song that was playing when you got there has even finished yet.
The cupboard is submerged in darkness, but even if there had been a light on it wouldn’t have mattered — the stranger’s face is hidden behind the screaming slope of a Scream mask.
While this stranger has had you bent over one of the stored suitcases in the cupboard, you’ve been trying to figure out who he is, if you might actually know him. There are signs to take note of; his blunt fingernails, the skinny ring on his middle finger, the quiet string of curses from behind the cheap plastic mask.
You turn your head over your shoulder, trying to search him out in the darkness. You catch what looks like a glimpse of the white of his mask before he takes one hand off your waist and fists it in your hair, pulling your head back closer to the mask whilst speeding up his hips. The clench of your cunt around his cock makes his fist tighten in your hair, and you gasp and fumble to hold the handle of whoever’s suitcase this happens to be.
His hips snatch up, burying his cock back inside of you and eventually letting go your hair to wrap both of his hands back around your waist. He pulls you to meet him as he thrusts in, the ricochet of your ass slapping into his hips sending you lurching forward into the wall — you barely stop yourself from face-planting into it with your palm, and you settle for gripping onto the suitcase beneath you for dear life as the stranger speeds up his slamming.
The fact that the person up your snatch right now is a stranger makes your head whirl — this is exactly the kind of scenario you think your parents might have been warning you of when they sent you off to university two years ago. But none of that matters now, not when the hardness shoved deep inside of you feels as good as this dude’s does.
Ghostface pushes himself deeper, shoving your chest down against the suitcase so the angle is just right. You feel his fingers smoothing up your spine appreciatively as he fucks into you, and the sudden realisation that you’re almost naked while he’s still concealed beneath dark robes and a mask hits you.
As he guides your hips up his cock and lets you sink back down onto him at your own tired pace, you moan loudly, feeling your thighs tremble against the fabric of the suitcase.
Behind you, the sharp point of his hips begin to hit you in even intervals — if you could see in this darkness, you’d see them moving in a roundish motion, each upward flick of his hips hitting the spot he’s been looking for the entire time.
You squeal, jolting up when he finds it and when he does, the hand on your back smooths across your skin before coming again to settle on your waist. His hands tighten around it while his hips rock back up into you, the wetness between your legs practically drooling from your hole.
Each thrust now is long and slow; you can feel the entire length of his dick pulling out of you save for the tip, and then rushing back inside of you roughly. Without even thinking about it, your walls clench closed around him and he sucks in a hiss, one you’re shocked to have been able to hear amidst the party outside.
Ghostface speeds up. He pushes into you with ease, relishing in the sound of your voice groaning and whimpering underneath him.
A pressure builds in your stomach, and Ghostface just about catches you when you fumble, the feeling of his hands around your middle tightening as he does all the work. He fucks himself with your pussy, knowing from the arrangement of noises you’ve sung to him where you like him best, which angle makes you moan more, where the wetness builds and squelches around him and dribbles down your leg.
“Ah, fuck!” you cry, taking the masked man by genuine surprise as his body shifts with quiet laughter, his fingers pinching the bunch of skin around your waist. He knows that you’re tired, and knows that you want to cum — just like how he knows that you know he wants to cum, too.
You feel full to the brim with him — you don’t know if this is the best sex you’ve ever had or if you just think that because it could be anybody under that mask fucking you.
Again, you try to peer round your shoulder to look for him, and this time you happen to snatch a look now that your eyes have adjusted to the light. Ghostface stares back at you with indifference, but you wonder how he might be looking underneath — face scrunched up with pleasure, a lip between his teeth, eyes blown open or perhaps clenched tight.
Doesn’t matter. It just feels too fucking good.
You start to say something but your words die out, your mind focusing on the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, mapping the way to your cervix, the tip kissing every nice spot you have never found with anybody else.
Finally, when you think Ghostface might be pulling out to blow a load over your back, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on edge when you feel him drag his cock out of you, and feel his hands pressing your ass cheeks, as if wanting to widen them apart.
Suddenly, you reach back and grab his wrist. You sense his gaze behind the hollow black spots of the mask and he tilts his head to the side. This guy is leaning in to the concept of Ghostface so heavily that it makes you shudder, but the damp spot between your legs sings a different story.
“Wait,” you manage to say, halting his cock from snuggling itself between your ass and up it. You’re not exactly closed off to anal, but not with someone you don’t even know, even worse inside of Eren’s storage cupboard using someone’s suitcase as a support.
Ghostface rolls his shoulders, returning his head to a straight and level position before pulling back entirely. Your heart rises to your throat — there’s no way he’ll just leave after you’ve said no. Neither of you are ready to part just yet.
Thankfully, Ghostface doesn’t leave; he curves his arm around your waist and twists you, your little top pushing against his chest for a split second before he lifts you up off the ground. The suitcase now finds itself a seat for you to sit on, while he lifts your legs higher around his body and aligns his cock back near your cunt before plunging himself back in as if he never even left.
Your jaw falls open, and now that your eyes are accustomed to the veil of darkness settled in the cupboard you can make out his mask above you, and both of his hands on your thighs. Being able to see the mysterious man in costume as he watches your pussy swallow his cock with every thrust only increases the pleasure, the rush of the masked assailant taking complete ownership of you, the thrill of the door behind him opening at any second.
He pushes your mini-skirt higher up over your stomach, sliding his right hand down from your thigh to roll his thumb over your clit. Your body jumps at the new feeling, and as the suitcase begins to wobble precariously beneath you, you try to grab onto something nearby and find nothing in reach. Settling to grip one hand on the case beneath you and his naked wrist, you place your faith in the trusty case and hope that it won’t collapse beneath you as Ghostface picks up the pace.
Every frantic thrust brings you an inch closer to the wall behind your head, but all you can focus on is the outline of his wrist reaching between your thighs and the white curve of the mask staring back at you in silence. You chew out a course of curses, a warm feeling rippling from your cunt all the way to your chest.
The cupboard feels like a corner of hell, stinking of sex, but all you can care to focus on is the feeling of this man’s dick inside of you, and how you want nothing else but for it to remain there for the rest of the evening.
You’re almost thankful for the lack of visibility in here, and no doubt behind the dark fabric of his masked eyes — you must look a mess, and you do. The man watches you with a half-lidded gaze, watching you unravel at the seams into a mewling mess under his hands. His thumb swirls slower around your clit, his nail slowly flicking over the curve of it as you moan, clenching your hand around his wrist. He shakes himself free from your clutches and moves to feel his cock stretching you open, fingering the wetness pool around him.
He swipes his finger up the slit of your cunt and then slides his palm over your stomach. You crane your head to stare at him, at the ridges of bone and his protruding veins that simmer across his hand. His fingers are slender, pretty almost, and you watch whilst panting as he stretches his hand across your lower stomach and presses down. At that, his hips flick up higher and you yelp — he’s feeling around for his hand on the surface.
He fucks up into you, feeling the dull lump of his dick pressing against you, and in turn you feel your legs trembling around him. Ghostface grips you even harder, grunting every time his balls slap up against your bum. The suitcase is wobbling furiously beneath you, but you can’t even feel it teetering on its edge — you’re too busy drowning in the aching pressure building in your body, and trying to fight it and failing miserably.
Ghostface releases your waist in surprise when you very suddenly release; a stream of squirt shoots out of your pussy onto the front of his dark cloak, and as soon as he lets you go, the suitcase beneath you falls and down you disappear against the wall down to the floor.
You land with an unceremonious groan, still squirting and shaking as you descend, and as you cry out in both pleasure and shock, Ghostface laughs and towers over you.
His laugh is loud, the loudest noise he’s made the entire time he’s been in here fucking you. It comes from deep within, boyish and sexy and enough to make you reach forward and press your fingers against your throbbing cunt.
“Shit, mama,” Ghostface croons, still chortling at your fall from grace to the floor of the cupboard. He breathes in with a voiced breath as he watches you fiddle with your clit like a button, staring up at him with a breathless and dazed look.
He tilts his head again — your body physically twitches.
“Oh, you want more?” he asks. You definitely don’t recognise his voice; you barely hear it now the song has changed in the kitchen next door. You’re lucky to have heard Ghostface talk the first time and laugh at the sight of your pussy in the air and legs spread wide.
Ghostface reaches for his cock, which remains hard and rigid under the falling figure of his cloak and he kicks the suitcase to the side. With your calves on either side of his thighs, he positions himself over you as you lie on the floor and starts to stroke his cock from the top to the bottom, picking up speed and watching you stroke the slick space between your legs. Your legs clench closed when you poke one finger into your quivering hole, but Ghostface nudges your legs with his knee and forces them back open.
If the door were to open now, how would you begin to explain the scene? A guy dressed as Ghostface standing over you while you’re undressed on the floor with your legs spread open, pumping his cock as he does nothing to help you up off the ground, enjoying every second of watching you try to finger your pussy and fight the sensitive jolts your body performs. Where would you even start with trying to explain that?
Ghostface shifts his weight above you, his hand moving so fast above you that you can barely see it moving, the black fabric of his cloak blocking the sight from view on occasion. He flicks his wrist as if this is an ordinary session of jerking off, as if you’re not on the floor beneath him ready to catch the blow.
He grunts, and you feel his feet gently brush your ass on the floor when he leans forward unexpectedly and lays one hand flat on the wall your head is against. Then you register a warmth shooting down onto your pussy, moving up to your chest as it falls and rises. He’s cumming. On you. All over you.
You don’t know where the need comes from, but you angle yourself up and position your face under his burst, catching the last few ropes of his cum with your tongue, moaning open-mouthed at the salty taste of it. You can feel the rest of it sliding down your body, trickling down your wet slit and past your bum to the floor.
Ghostface curses and laughs again, looking down at you.
“Slut,” he calls affectionately, chuckling as he does so. A wild heat blooms on your face.
Ghostface leans forward and fingers his hand through your hair, using the other one still wrapped around his cock to shake it, as if ridding the last drops of his seed onto your face before letting it fall back behind the curtain of black robes.
The unknown Ghostface grips your face with his hand, staring at the way your eyes burn up into his widely and tiredly. His head tilts again in the way he likes, and then he pats your cheek and waves his hand at you. It takes a second before you understand that he’s waving for you to stand up.
With a struggle, you find your feet and rise to stand in front of him. He assesses the display of sticky cum over your body and face and laughs again, as if finding the whole thing unbelievable and endearing, and then he uses the inside of his cloak to wipe whatever he can see in the dark off your skin. There’s still a party to enjoy — he’s not cruel enough to send you back into the fray with his seed splattered down your front.
A few moments later, the door to the storage cupboard opens from the inside and you ungracefully step out, your body still feeling light and like jelly. Ghostface is just a step behind you, but before you can step into the equally dim light of the flat hallway, he reaches out and fiddles with your skirt. You feel the cheap fabric of it drag in a rearrangement.
He’s pulled your skirt from up above your arse and returned you to normal.
Ghostface gently pushes you forward and turns to close the door behind him. You still in place, turning to him and hoping he might share who he is, maybe suggest finding a room to have some more fun in. But all he does is look at you before disappearing back inside of the heart of the party taking place in the kitchen.
Leaving you standing there.
A door to someone’s bedroom opens and out someone steps, dressed in a very cute cosplay of Yuna from Final Fantasy. They smile when they see you and use their thumb to gesture behind them: “Bathrooms in there if you’re looking for it.”
You thank her and slowly wander inside, b-lining for the small ensuite and closing the door behind you. You barely think of looking at your reflection in the mirror until you’ve peed and wiped the sticky residue away, but when you do, you blow out a deep sigh and quickly wipe the smudge of eyeliner under your eye.
You’ve looked worse. There’s always that.
You’re just about to step into the hallway when a Ghostface breezes past you. Immediately, your body freezes, watching the masked figure look back towards the front door with a howling laugh, and when you turn to the door you watch two more Ghostface’s tumble in after him. Your heart lurches in your chest — this just got more complicated.
One of them looks at you and holds up their prop weapon as they pass, using it as if beckoning you to the kitchen where your friends are probably waiting for you. Hoping they’ll avoid all interrogations of where you’ve been for the last twenty minutes, you prepare to poke your head inside and jump back when Ymir steps out.
She looks haggard, her eyes hazed and red and she jerks backwards in surprise when you manifest into her view.
“Jesus fuck, you scared the shit out of me,” she grumbles, looking you up and down after catching her breath.
A guy dressed in an uninspired pirate outfit passes and says, “Cute outfit.”
“Thanks,” you mutter in reply, then turn to Ymir again. “There’s no more loo roll in that bathroom, if that’s where you’re going.”
“Nah, going outside,” she tells you, “it’s like a sauna in there. Wanna come with?”
You hope that by joining Ymir outside you might iron out your neediness, but the feeling only increases. About five minutes into standing by one of the birch trees in the courtyard, flanked by Ymir and her two friends, you watch as a congregation of people flood out of the building you were just in. Ymir pays them no mind — they’re all at the same party, after all, but your eyes zero in on the familiar flash of black robes and fall on the sickening sight of another Ghostface mask looking right back at you.
You don’t even know if this is the same Ghostface sinking his dick into your cunt just mere minutes ago.
“Why’s there so many Ghostface’s tonight?” you ask, feigning nonchalance.
Ymir shrugs and twists the butt of her cigarette against the tin bin on the wall. “Must be popular again this year.”
“The new Scream movie came out a few weeks ago,” one of her friends answers helpfully. “I’ve seen about six tonight. Don’t even know who any of them are, either.”
When Ymir gently pulls you back towards the party by your shoulders, you brave another look back at the group with the infamous Ghostface and tame the disappointment blooming in your chest when the masked stranger is no longer searching for you in the throng of people.
You fall back invisibly in the crowd of people once inside, searching for the man who had claimed you as his own earlier in the night. But he might as well be a ghost in the wild gathering of strangers surrounding you as you try and find fun in dancing with Ymir — everywhere you look, you catch a glimpse of another warping mouth gaping at you, but never any signs of who just had you mewling in the cupboard. His identity and the possibility of it being revealed slip away as the night goes on, but the lingering memory and phantom feeling of his dick up your crotch never leaves.
You’ve never actually met Eren, despite being at his Halloween party at the start of the week. The weekend drawls by at an agonisingly slow pace, so much so that you’re overjoyed when Saturday arrives and you join Ymir back at Eren’s dormitory building for Armin’s belated birthday gathering.
Once you cross the familiar courtyard, you steal a glance up at Eren’s flat, a flood of memories rushing back to you. Hating to admit the disappointment of learning that Armin lived in a different section of the building to Eren, you look away from the full length windows peering in to Eren’s kitchen and hurry behind Ymir and Reiner as they stride down the path towards the heavy green doors.
There’s a whole regiment of friends to Ymir who you’ve never even met before. There had never been any need to introduce you to the friends Ymir made during her first year of university when they all lived in the same building, and Ymir liked it that way.
She had a balance of friend groups for different purposes: her fixed group of friends (including Reiner and a dozen others), you (who Ymir considered her best friend, even when she had a poor way of showing it sometimes) and her first year friends, of which includes Eren and the birthday boy, Armin.
You’re not so much fussed by meeting them for the first time. If all goes wrong, you have nothing to lose.
Luckily, the unification of Ymir’s two friend groups goes according to plan; the collection of strangers prove to be friendly and welcoming, and you almost feel comfortable sitting in between Ymir and Reiner, his arm behind you on the back of the sofa and Ymir’s elbow on your knee as she leans forward to talk with Eren.
Opposite you, a few of Ymir’s friends fall into a cacophony of laughter that makes you look over at them with interest. A girl with brown hair leans back into her friends arm as a guy with a buzz-cut steps into the kitchen, patting his hands on his cargos as if they were wet. You look away again when Reiner brings you up in the conversation he’s having to your right, and you’re intention is to remain there until your ears prick up at someone’s voice opposite you.
“Shit, mama, you good?”
Your head snaps to the side.
Buzz-cut arches forward in his seat with a grin on his face, patting his hand on the brunette girl’s back as she coughs into her arm. The other friend, a dirty blond who you think is called Jean, takes her drink from her hands with a laugh while she splutters. Buzz-cut laughs too, the sound all too fucking familiar.
In your chest, your heart hammers before plunging to the pit of your stomach. When he rearranges himself and lays his hands flat on his parted knees, your eyes wander to his fingers and catch the sight of a slim silver band around his middle finger, and you feel your whole body go rigid.
It’s him.
It’s your Ghostface.
“Shit, Sasha, why’d you spit your drink everywhere?” Eren asks, chuckling at the girl as she apologetically wipes her mouth and makes a move to wipe away the water. “Ugh, stop, stop.”
“Can you get the kitchen roll from the cupboard, Connie?” sighs Armin, and you watch as buzz-cut rises to his feet and circles towards a cupboard and pulls out the kitchen roll. A cupboard he knew to look inside, the familiar entry to the kitchen — your mysterious Ghostface lives here, and your body warms at the fact.
Connie approaches the shitty coffee table and unravels a blanket of paper before laying it across the spill, soaking up whatever it was Sasha was drinking. He does it fast, but you steal whatever looks you can at him while he’s not looking back.
His hair is silver, the glint of silvery hoops and studs in his left ear standing out as an accent to his appearance. You watch his fingers grip the soggy clumps of tissue and familiarise yourself with them; just a few days ago, those fingers were around your waist, that thumb rolling circles around your clit.
You subtly fidget in your seat and try to look away, but you find yourself with the urge to look at him constantly, feeling like a schoolgirl crushing on her classmate.
“What’s it with you and coffee tables?” Reiner asks Sasha, bringing her gaze over to him and by extension you. She smiles at you both, considering you’re looking right at her and between her, Jean and Connie. “Didn’t you hurl on Eren’s on Halloween?”
“That actually wasn’t me,” Sasha says immediately, frantically looking at Eren as he levels a look at her. “I swear. I swear it wasn’t me. It was Mina, I swear.”
“I watched you do it,” Reiner replies.
“No, no! Connie, back me up—”
“He wasn’t even there!”
Connie glances at Sasha as if weighing his options by defending her, and then he looks at Reiner. As he does so, you feel your heart in your throat when his eyes pass by your figure and settle on Reiner, and then suddenly jump back to you in a double take.
Connie stands there for a moment, his eyes glued to you like a predator to prey. You watch his eyes flicker around your face, analysing you, before falling down to your chest, your legs, and then finally back at your face. You wonder if you might have fallen under the radar if only you hadn’t clenched your legs tighter together and squirmed in your seat, which is all the evidence Connie needed to confirm that you were the girl who’s pussy he’d been up inside a few nights ago.
You don’t begin to guess what he might be thinking. He slowly comes back to his senses and sits in his chair, his gaze wandering around the room before inevitably coming back to you, finding your gaze still fixed on him in a stunned surprise that he feels bloom into a sort of pride.
As he stares at you, he lets his head tilt to the side with a smile, watching the way your chest rises and falls before you force your gaze away, determined to find something interesting in Ymir’s conversation with the person next to her.
But now that you’ve seen him, and now that Connie’s seen you, you know that something has shifted, and when the vibrating pulse in your crotch returns unpleasantly, you force it away and count the seconds before you can leave with Ymir in tow — unsuspecting of the eyes that will follow as you go; oblivious to the desire stirring inside of Connie’s body to finish what he started on Halloween.
#aot#attack on titan#aot x reader#connie springer#connie springer x reader#connie springer imagine#connie x reader#aot connie#connie springer smut#connie smut#ghostface#snk#aot smut#aot imagine#connie aot#jeanbie#ittojean
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HERE COMES THE SUN.
They comfort you while you’re having a difficult time.
ft. Childe, Lyney, Albedo, Shikanoin Heizou x gn! reader.
cw/genre: hurt/comfort.
for my dear @https-furina I know you’ve been going through trying times lately, so I hope this can comfort you a little <3 I also struggled a lot with Heizou’s part, so I apologize if it’s no good at all…
if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !
✧ CHILDE
Linen sheets feel like ropes on raw skin against the morning chill.
Its warm cream color, ashen, nothing like the mirror sunrises you were used to witnessing right after you opened your eyes.
What’s the point in opening them anymore? You wonder.
You bury your face against the pillows. In any other occasion, you would have been grateful for the coolness of its silk.
Now it’s just an iceberg. Like a missing shard of your shallow beating heart.
“Someone’s sleepy today.” A familiarly perky voice greets, the mattress dipping slightly with new weight.
You rolling in the other direction is all the greeting that meets him.
“Hey, love! It’s time to wake up!” Childe chuckles, his hand gently shaking your body.
Yet something already tells him this is not right; you usually would have already shoved him away by now.
But today you’re just… unresponsive…
The dull oceans of his stare rise in dangerous waves at your state.
Hesitant, he calls your name, his tone more like a question.
And this time, he does get an answer.
Familiar arms he adores wrapped around him loop around his middle, your face burying against his chest.
You’re warm, yet you feel so… faraway… as if the pain of past memories was seeping out your light.
Ajax is no stranger to the despair palpable in your strong grip around him, he’s endured it himself, through years robbed of him by an abyss that turned him into a master of all weapons.
So because he’s known the cold of endless nights where all he had was a tattered red scarf to remember the warmth of a distant home, he now holds you.
And for someone whose hands were tainted in the filth and bloodshed of a lifetime of slaughter, Ajax is undeniably gentle.
His fingertips ghost over your skin, easing the burning anguish of bed covers that felt too rough, too suffocating, too wrong.
When your lover’s hands get lost in your hair, combing it, you swear sun rays filter through the deep sea you’re falling through.
And then, suddenly, the choice to swim upwards presents before you, scarred sun-kissed hands extended towards you.
You take them.
When you open your eyes, russet sunsets and constellations over your beloved’s skin greet you.
His lips find yours, a bit chapped but gentle; not his usual playfulness, but soothing aquamarine waves.
You swear Childe’s kiss tastes salty. And that’s when you realize the dry tear-tracks down your cheeks.
He made them dry, sunlight evaporating puddles after grey days.
You break the surface, the waters now turquoise beneath Ajax’s light.
He won’t let you sink again.
✧ LYNEY
A whole audience’s cheers fill the Opera Epiclese. Lights shine upon every smiling face, every vigourous clap of hands after the magician’s grand finale echoing through the theater.
However, the illusionist’s gaze of amethyst is focused on the sole grim expression amongst millions of joyous others.
Yours.
Your hands move, clapping together, as if automated; your eyes stare at everything, seeing nothing; your mouth is a taut line, your lips devoid of their usual vibrant tint.
Lyney doesn’t like that being his last memory before the curtain closes.
When you step out of the Opera House, an infinity of starfields is abloom across the crepuscular skies.
What a mockery; a cruel jinx on display, for you to see the unfulfilled sparks dimming inside your heart.
A sigh escapes your dry lips, a small cloud forming when it meets the late night chill.
“You’ll catch a cold there, mon coeur,” Someone you know, tricks and all, utters behind you.
Welcome warmth tinted in lavender envelops you the instant your eyes meet the magician’s starry ones.
A small smile tugs at your lips, the curse of melancholy still clinging to you through it.
“Lyney…” You start. The twilit breeze picks up around you, your arms instinctively wrapping around yourself for some semblance of a warmth you haven’t felt in days.
“That won’t do, ma chérie.” Your lover chuckles.
Then, with a wave of his hand, a piece of the night sky itself seems to become tangible in his grasp.
“Here,” he offers, draping it over your shoulders.
Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s a shawl; the cloth feels delicate to the touch, quite fine too, and yet, you feel the warmth of a thousand suns. If you had to describe its color you would come up empty. Silver glitter seems to be embedded in the fabric, but at the same time, it looks like multiple tiny lights had been stitched to the material. You suppose you’d call the hue, dark; a myriad of indigoes merge into violets, threaded together with navies and cobalts. And yet, when you move it, the colors seem to shift, almost like the clouds drifting across this midnight.
“I take it you liked it.” Lyney smiles, softer than his usual cheshire-like grins, when he observes your wonderstruck features.
“Very…” You muse, awestruck at the magical silk.
“It’s a châle de ciel,” your beloved explains, “It will change depending on the state of the sky at each time of day.” He pauses, eyes, the color of lumidouce bells and rainbow rose petals merged, glinting as he admires how the garment fits you. “But I can guarantee,” your illusionist steps closer to you, plucking something out of your hair. “That it will always keep you comfortable… warm or cool, whatever you need.” He finishes, handing you a pluie lotus.
You take a few seconds to appreciate the second gift of the night. The flower’s petals are the same color as Lyney’s eyes, yet not as vivacious.
“Shall we go, mon amour?” Your boyfriend inquires, already offering your arm to him.
Together, you leave the opera house behind.
You hope for light blues on your new cape tomorrow morning. And somehow, you know that’s what you’ll find.
You squeeze Lyney’s arm gently. The sun will rise soon.
✧ ALBEDO
When he sets foot on his camp in Dragonspine, Albedo finds the heater already on.
Strange.
The sun hasn’t even quite awoken yet, the snowy peaks outlined against skies still clinging to dreamless cloudy nights; shards of ice, embedded in the softness of dawn clouds. An accurate representation of the region of freedom’s snowy mountains: menacingly beautiful, brimming with lethal charm, for one step in the wrong direction, and the cold might as well consume you for good.
At this hour, no one was ever already working at his lab, making of these moments calm sunrise-tinted memories in the alchemist’s mind, before the day’s hustle and bustle began.
However, today, the running heater is not the only out of the ordinary salutation to greet the chalk prince.
The acute sounds of clicking vials, books being rearranged and crunching snow are confirmation enough that he is, indeed, not alone.
With silent steps, Albedo advances, keeping one hand hovering over his trusty sword. Then, he finally lays eyes upon the cause for the commotion, and despite the lack of danger, the sight doesn’t calm him any better.
“My dearest?” He calls. The instant your gaze meets his, your condition scares him more than any bandits ransacking his research material. Your hair is messy, falling on your face; dark circles are etched beneath your lower lashline, darkness clinging to you like remnants of turbulent nights; and you’re shivering, whether from the cold or because you’re distempered he can’t quite discern, although it’s most likely due to both.
“Hello, ‘Bedo…” You mutter, the flesh of your lips bitten, flecks of Dragonspine’s freeze coating them, the cold lacing with your bones, chilling you to the core. Your eyes widen when you notice your lover’s teal gaze scrutinizing you. You quickly busy yourself with classifying some potions, by color and texture, whatever takes the longest for him not to worry about your less than ideal condition.
However, perhaps you underestimated his attention to detail; for he has a skilled artist, after all.
“My love, are you feeling alright?” He questions, gloved hands gently taking the crystal vial-filled wooden box you were carrying off your trembling hold.
And in that instant, you don’t know if it’s the warmth of your prince’s hands on yours; or the comfort of his voice, like honey on bitter tea, but you find yourself taking a deep breath, the fresh air of a midwinter’s sunrise filling your lungs.
And then you talk. You spill every worry and bad dream, your shadows opening up to the gilded starlight of him.
And through it all, the alchemist’s hands warm yours, fingers interlocked, very much in the way your souls are undeniably so too.
Because no matter how daunting the river seemed when you faced it alone, when you were with Albedo, its typhoons calmed down, stone bridges and his outstretched hand painting safety and comfort in hues of gold before your eyes.
While the kreideprinz grounds you, the sun reaches its peak, a canvas of aureate and cornflower blue grazing the mountaintops.
You would be okay.
✧ SHIKANOIN HEIZOU
Emerald eyes read through you as if you were made of clear glass.
The way you worry your lower lip between your teeth; your fingers almost going white at the knuckles as you clutch a pencil, its wood creaking in your grip; and the general absentminded state you’re in, papers scattered over your desk, several case files stacked in disarray.
Something is clearly weighting on your mind.
“I think a break’s in order, wouldn't you agree, sweetheart?” Heizou suggests, standing up, those striking eyes of his fixed on you.
The detective’s voice is enough to stop the quickening clock ticking in your mind, regrets and dark spirals momentarily coming to a halt.
When you rise your furrowed brow, shades of maroon and viridian flood your sight, vivid as summer and warming your up just as much.
Nodding, you stand up too, limbs feeling heavy despite the comfort of your lover beside you.
The brown shades of your office turn into blue skies and soft pink sakuras not long after, the scented tree branches swaying above you, like fragments of dreams someone had given up on, waiting to be picked up by another soul who dared to imagine.
Your back rests against your lover’s lean but strong torso, the sweet smelling breeze combing through your hair, as Heizou’s chin rests on your shoulder.
“So will you tell me what’s wrong, darling?” Are the words of his that break the birdsong-filled calm.
A pang settles on your chest, you didn’t want to take away that cheeky grin that most of the time decorated his quick-witted lips.
“I…” You hesitate. “Well, it’s- it’s complicated, Heizou…” Your lids flutter closed, a shaky breath raking through you, as you turn around in his embrace, your hands bracing on his shoulders. “I don’t want to bring the mood down, you know…”
The detective places a thumb on your lower lip, smoothing over the bite marks you left there earlier.
“You never, ever, bring the mood down, dear. Never.” He leans in, brushing a soft kiss over your forehead. “My intuition told me right away there was something up.” He takes a stray cherry blossom petal from your hair. “So, why don’t we take the rest of the day off, love?” Your partner proposes, as he takes your chin in between his fingers, mischief flashing in his features.
And perhaps your lover’s smile was more infectious than you had ever given it credit for; and maybe the way he flashes his green eyes at you has your heart trembling in ways that have nothing to do with the fear and guilt you’ve been festering, but you find yourself retorting back, with a grin of your own:
“Don’t you have cases to solve, detective Shikanoin?”
This time, he takes a full sakura flower, delicately placing it behind your ear.
“I have something more important to solve right here…” He smirks, cheekily, as he admires your now flustered expression.
When you lean the side of your head against his chest, he cradles it with one of his hands, the other playing with the ends of your hair.
It would be unfair, if gloom were to take your soul captive when spring seems to linger through Inazuma’s breeze.
With a last look at you, the detective’s maroon lashes flutter closed too. He hopes, at least for today, he managed to protect precious you from the crimes of cruel sorrow.
He leans his head on top of yours.
The case is solved.
#astronetwrk#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact imagines#lyney x reader#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#albedo x reader#shikanoin heizou x reader#heizou x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact comfort#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact hurt/comfort#lyney imagines#childe imagines#lyney x you#childe x you#albedo x you#heizou x you#genshin fluff#genshin hurt/comfort#genshin comfort#lyney x y/n#childe x y/n#albedo x y/n#heizou x y/n#genshin impact#genshin x reader fluff#genshin x reader#genshin x you
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Not Exactly Cinderella Part 2
Part 1
WC: 818
“You have a thing for black hair and blue eyes, huh?” Dick teased, looking at the guy that Wally had pointed out. He laughed as Wally slapped his shoulder for the comment. “What? I’m not complaining. And you’re right, he does have a cute smile.”
Wally just blushed again.
“Well, come on, I think that most of my official duties are done. Let’s go see what he’s like,” Dick said, heading back towards the stairs.
“What if he’s a jerk?” Wally asked.
“Then we just move on and go find someone else to talk to,” Dick answered easily. “This isn’t a mission or anything, Walls, if you don’t click you don’t click. You can think his smile is cute and not want to do anything with him.”
Wally sighed, though, rather than being comforted by that.“You keep talking like he’ll want to do something with me.”
Dick stopped them at the bottom of the stairs, tugging them to the side. He knew he probably looked a little worried, but he couldn’t help it. No, of course he could fake it, he was a damn Bat, but he didn’t want to. Wally deserved to know that he was bothered by this. If Dick had known that Wally was having these self esteem issues, he would have done something earlier.
Wally deserved to know how amazing he was.
“If he doesn’t want you, it will because he’s straight or not into quick romance or doing something physical,” Dick said. “Or because he’s insane and doesn’t like red heads. Never trust someone who doesn’t like red heads.”
Wally rolled his eyes but he looked more relaxed. “Just because you have a thing for red heads…”
“Walls, sweetheart, you’re amazing. You’re smart and funny and fun. And you’re pretty damn hot too between the red hair and adorable freckles and your runner’s body. If he’s not into you there could be reasons for it, but it’s not because you aren’t an amazing catch.”
Wally let out a breath of air and nodded. “Okay. Sure. I mean, I don’t agree but sure. Let’s go talk to him.”
“Great!” Dick said with a grin. He took Wally’s hand but dropped it as they got closer to their target. The guy must have taken a break from his last discussion and was over to the side with a fresh drink in hand. Dick detoured them briefly to get drinks also; it was important for everyone to feel like they were on the same social page. They settled near the other as if taking a break from the crowd themselves.
“Enjoying the evening?” Dick asked, drawing the strangers blue eyes to them.
Oh, fuck, more adorable freckles.
“You know, I actually am,” he said, seeming surprised by that. As an after thought he held out his hand. “Oh, sorry, I’m Danny.”
Not a socialite if he was leaving off the last name. That was a positive.
“Dick,” he said, shaking the offered hand before backing off. “And this is Wally.”
“Nice to meet you,” Danny said, as he shook Wally’s hand. “You two having a good night?”
“Mostly. We’re finally where we can relax and talk to who we want to, which is nice. Wally here always has to track down the other scientists at these things,” Dick answered for them, pleased when Danny perked up at that.
“Are you scientist?” Danny asked
“Chemist, mostly material sciences but some organic too,” Wally said with a slightly bashful little smile. “You?”
“Bimolecular and biomedical engineering,” Danny said.
At least Dick would have an easy excuse to duck out when the conversation got too technical for him.
“Did they do the same thing with you and keep trying to make you pick one?”
Danny laughed and gave a little shrug. Dick could tell Wally almost swooned at the sound— not that Dick could blame Wally, Danny had a really nice laugh and the crooked smile was downright precious.
“Totally. I though that two of them were going to get in a fist fight over me at one point! Which I suppose at least would have been hilarious. I’ve won so far, but it’s going to be hard to pick a doctorate when I get there.”
“Oh man, good luck. I got my masters last year and stopped for now. Want to get some work experience, you know?” Wally asked. “But it sounds like you’ll kick ass whatever you choose. Where are you going to school right now? Gotham doesn’t really do much of that, right?”
“U Penn,” Danny said. “I’m close enough location wise that my godfather called in a favor for me to be his plus one for this event, but it really hasn’t been that bad so far.
“Who’s your godfather?” Dick asked curiously.
Danny smiled that crooked smile again. “Vlad Masters.”
Dick couldn’t help the way his nose wrinkled at that.
Danny just laughed.
--
AN: Just a little bit of Dick's POV! And oh no, Dick thinks Danny is cute too! Whatever will we do...
Wanted to write more of this, but *waves hand at everything*. But this brings us to the end of the 'new schedule'! It was fun to do but I certainly won't be doing it every week. It's back to just trauma Tuesday for now! Stay delightful, darlings.
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Begging on my hands and knees for Fae!Gaz to tap me into the next fucking dimension jeussnchfihsn
It's just that... coincidences only work when you believe that's what they are. Gaz can memorize your schedule, he can know your route to work, he can happen by your usual morning spot for tea, but it doesn't take many run ins before you start to get suspicious. He smiles at you across the tube platform and your skin crawls. Some prey response in the back of your mind startling. You've seen him every morning for the last week, and he's always looking at you. Normally you spare him a quick glance, but today he holds your attention. He takes a step forward and you have the brief feeling like he means to hop across the tracks to you.
Your train arrives just as your heart jumps into your throat. You don't see him out the window, it doesn't calm your nerves. He's outside sitting on your usual park bench when you go out for lunch, tossing bread at crows that scatter as you approach. You didn't know there were so many of them in the area, the trees are heavy with their dark wings, the air still of their clicking chatter. You walk past your bench and find another one, closer to the little playground, somewhere someone will hear you if you shout.
You break from your usual routine after work and swing by a patisserie. Paranoia is bad for your skin, you need something to calm yourself down, something deliciously normal. You sit outside enjoying the sun with your fruit tart and decide that seeing one stranger twice doesn't mean he's stalking you. Still, you're going to change your route and maybe the times you leave for work/take your lunch break. There, problem solved, your therapist would be proud of you. You didn't jump to the worst case, and you came up with achievable short term solutions.
"This seat taken?"
You look up and meet warm umber eyes, a smile with too many teeth. Your fight or flight kicks in and you're on your feet before you can drop your fork. Gaz catches your wrist before you can take a step away from the table and rips you to face him. His fingers finding your face before you can register you've been caught.
You drop, your body slumping to the side as Gaz catches you under your arms and helps lower you back down into your chair. He tips your head, holding your chin with gentle fingers, and pulls your eyelid up to check your pupil. All good. No damage done, just scared you a little.
"Sorry about that love," He sighs, taking the empty seat next to you and plucking one of the strawberries off your tart, "pushed too hard, I'll get it right this time. Promise."
Perhaps it's your own fault for giving him such an open wish. "It would be nice to fall in love." He can do that. He just needs to get the formula for it right.
#cod x reader#x reader#x oc#cod x oc#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz mw2#gaz modern warfare#gaz cod#gaz garrick#gaz garrick x reader#fae!gaz#1fae1#oc: sunny#tap tap tap
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method acting ☆ cl16
genre: series - humor, strangers to friends/roommates
word count: 4.1k
*can you guess what film it's based off of? i practically laid the answer out in front of you guys lol
ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six ch. six
Chapter 3
Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.
The Spaniard shifts uncomfortably before taking a step back. You had read all about him - of course you had - but how were you supposed to know he would be here? For sure you were drooling by how in shock you were, but you couldn’t find the strength to pick your jaw off the floor.
And then it got worse.
“Carlos, you won’t believe what I just saw! A Stormtrooper just got slapped by some ballerina! I mean he was kind of asking for it - he grabbed her and she just…” He mimics a dramatic strike as Carlos chuckles. “Best night of my life.”
The brown eyed man quirks a dark brow towards the lousy looking Super Mario. “This is my friend, Lando.” He leans closer to your ear. “He’s not normal.”
“Hey,” the Brit warns as he fixes his overalls, then blushes. “I-It was such short notice.”
Bewildered, you let out soft pants as you pat your chest over and over. The two men share a concerned look. “Are you feeling okay?” Would it be the worst thing in the world to bolt out the door and fly back home? Eyeing the entrance, you contemplate it for a bit but then you hear the familiar accent.
“She's yeigh high, won’t stop talking even if you beg her to…”
“I’m fine!” The pair flinch at the sudden burst. “I’m just going to pop out and take a breather.”
“There you are.” Your stomach drops. Charles raises his brows in a curious manner at the back heads of Carlos and Lando as you weigh your options. You can deal with this - pretend none of this was actually happening. But instead you do what you do best.
“Where are you-”
Pushing past the crowd, you make your way out the door. Once you take a step outside, you look both ways before shaking your head and running down the street. You receive weird looks, but don’t bother to care. There wasn’t an exact destination in mind, but anything was better than dealing with whatever that was.
Loud footsteps make your spine tingle with uneasiness as you turn around. And this has to be some sort of nightmare because a Stormtrooper, heist man, and Super Mario chase after you. You sprint faster, often taking glances back as Charles tries to catch his breath.
“Where the fuck are you going? Are you crazy?” he shouts as Carlos and Lando stop, immediately recognizing his voice. You stop dead in your tracks as Charles inches closer. Grabbing you by the shoulders, he shakes you harshly. “What’s wrong with you? You can’t just run off like that!”
“I-I…” You spot the two friends as they mutter at each other, walking closer. Feverishly, you shake your head, headache coming in strong. “I needed air-”
Cold eyes narrow down like knives. “That’s fine, but couldn’t you have gone through a more sane route?” You’re a blubbering mess, jumbling out non-existing words as the Monegasque wrestles to decipher them all.
That sounds just like Leclerc, or am I going insane? Lando murmurs as Carlos nods silently. Kind of, but we should help her. What if he’s just some creep?
The duo are about to reach you and your roommate when you land on what seems like the worst idea, but reluctantly, saves you. Tippy toeing, you throw your arms around Charles’ neck before pressing your lips onto his. He stiffens.
“Oh umm…so…they’re not strangers.”
The Spaniard’ eyes grow wide. “Definitely not. We should probably leave them alone.”
Making their way back to the party, you sigh with relief against the brunette’s pink lips as you relax your feet down onto the pavement. But this only leads to the green eyed boy to angle himself lower and continue the kiss. Pushing him back sharply, you shriek.
“No!”
He jumps with high alert. “Wh-what’s wrong?”
Rosy cheeks flush furthermore as you rub your eyes harshly. “This…this is wrong.” A beat. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
The Monegasque lets out a small laugh before running a large hand against his stubble. “But I thought-”
“I know,” you chant. “But it wasn’t the right thing to do. I got lost in the moment and that’s my fault, but we’re friends, Charles. That was…weird.”
His heart stops from your sudden burst. Bruised is an understatement. He won’t say he has a crush - God, it’s only been a couple of days of knowing you - but it would be an outright lie if he said a kiss hadn’t crossed his mind. But did you have to be so unfazed by it all?
A raw cough rings through the air, only soft music being heard as you two awkwardly stare at each other. “It was kind of weird.” A forced chuckle makes its way up your throat as you rub your arm. “I also got lost in the gist of it all, don’t feel too bad.”
“We’re good then?”
He nods, lips stretched out into a knowing smile. “Yes.”
You whistle. “Thank God. I wouldn’t want things to get…”
“Me too.” He winks teasingly. “Just answer me one thing; Was I any good?”
Unable to keep eye contact, you softly smack his suit. “What are you tal- I was.” He wiggles his dark brows. Stop lying. You gape at him. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore!” He chuckles.
“Do you want to go back, or?”
“Or.”
-
Unlocking the door, the Monegasque steps aside as you thank him, brushing past his tall figure and making your way onto the couch. “I don’t think I could ever party again. Might just have to accept my fate.”
The white cloud plunges down as he takes a seat next to your tired state. “Which is?”
“That I’m old.” You sit up straight as you point an accusing finger up at him. He tilts his head. “Correction - we’re both old.”
A hand slaps your mouth shut as you squeal against it. “I think it might just be you.” Yoomphtoofth, you muffle as you try to wiggle free from his strong grip. “Let me know if you disagree.”
Licking his hand, he yelps as he pulls away, immediately drying himself against your tutu. You smirk. “Asshole.” He narrows his eyes. Shrugging him off, you curl your legs up to your chest. “Truce?” Glaring at your hand, he questions it for a second before hesitantly shaking it. Tugging it towards your mouth, he lets out a high pitched squeak as you lick it.
“You’re a heathen,” he shrieks as you throw your head back laughing. Relax. You’ve already kissed me. “You kissed me, let's not forget.” You blush. Suddenly I’m feeling very tired. Off to bed I go.
Staring with slight amusement, he waves you off. When you come to a halt, sleepy eyes reconnect with yours. “I know you said it’s fine for me to keep the bed and you the couch, but I’m willing to share now that I trust you.”
A playful scoff escapes. “I’m flattered.” You stick your tongue out, aiming your ballet shoe at him. He dodges it before comedically scowling. “It’s fine, you can keep it. Hopefully it helps tend to your nasty attitude. You should seriously get that checked out.”
You huff, foot stopping against the wooden tiles. “And I’m sure you’re getting a hump back, so by all means stay in your microscopic couch.” Green eyes bulge out with worry as he runs into the room.
“On second thought, I think we should share!”
-
So he’s a cuddler. You learn so very quickly when he instinctively drapes his hand over your belly. You try to wrestle free for a while before you realize how nice it feels. A few seconds tick by before you drift off to sleep.
The strong beams that slither past the curtains are enough to shake the Monegasque awake. Groaning, he squints his eyes as he analyzes his surroundings. It takes a second for him to register how close you are, and even worse, how his arm lays over your delicate figure.
Flinging it away, he scoots back. You toss and turn for a while before you lazily rub your eyes. Was there an earthquake? Charles opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. You raise an expectant brow. T’was my imagination? “Must have been,” he croaks, a raspy voice bouncing off the walls. “How about some breakfast?”
After a strong counter argument on your behalf, he eventually complies and strolls out the door, set to get some breakfast for you both. It should have been for the best to tidy up the bed, clean up a bit.
Definitely not hunt for a small journal.
Guilt resurfaces as you open the side drawer, finding it empty. What were you doing? Charles has been nothing but good to you - he was someone you considered your friend. Maybe it was for the best, it was a bit too invasive.
Your tummy grumbles as you glare at the clock, time slowly passing by and still no sign of the Monegasque. Dragging your feet to the living room, you shamelessly plop onto the couch when you spot an oddly familiar item. The brown diary.
You can feel the way your eyes sparkled with merriment as a delirious laugh ringed past your dry lips. It had been dug between the pillows begging to be let out. To be skimmed through. Analyzed. Soft fingers trace the front cover as your breath hitches.
This doesn’t have to happen. You didn’t have to do any of this. You could be honest, admit what you’re doing, that you know who he is and how that would change nothing between you two, and that you needed this. He would understand. But the thin pages were luring you in by every passing second he doesn’t walk past that door. A tiny peek won’t hurt.
You can’t tell how much time has passed, but the moment you hear keys jingling, you hurriedly stash it back in its original hiding spot and rush over to the terrace overlooking Amalfi. Strong accent calls out for you as you holler back. With a sheepish smile, he hands you a box of crepes. Grazie.
His green eyes flicker with evident panic, though he tries not to show it. “Hey, have you seen a small journal by any chance? It’s sort of important.” As quickly as you started, you stopped munching and immediately started to choke. A large hand pats your back as you inch away as if he held a deadly disease.
“N-no I have not.” You brush your hair back, suddenly hot. “Is it that big a deal?”
The brunette shrugs but reluctantly nods. “I write down my feelings sometimes. Helps me cope with lots of things.” An appreciated and honest expression maps itself between his soft features. “Though I think I found a new outlet.” Your heart stops as he glazes over the open scenery. “Still, I should go look for it.”
Left hollow and sick, you burn with fury towards yourself. You should have let it go, but God, why did you have to ruin everything?
The day settles with a drive around town with a navy Vespa. Charles had bought it on a whim when you gushed over the idea of adventuring in true old fashion. Just like Princess Anne and Joe Bradley. Snuggling your head with a hideous helmet, you pout as he clicks it securely before working on his own. “This is not what I had in mind.”
He clicks his tongue. “Rather be safe than sorry.”
“This is only going to mess with my hair. I planned this outfit to perfection, Cha! And look!” You give him a quick twirl as he rolls his eyes at the dramatic gesture. “Now you’ve ruined it.”
“Just get on.”
Bumpy road makes you squeal with hysteria as you cling on extra tight around his waist. You can hear his croaky laughter as he swerves to avoid crashing into a fruit stand. Scusa! “You’re going to get us killed, and contrary to belief, I would love to live!”
“Would you relax? I know what I’m doing.”
Once you make it out of the busy village, you’re actually able to enjoy the ride. You even try to convince him to play a round of i-Spy with you, though that later backfires when you accuse him of cheating. You’re in the heat of your one-sided argument when he pulls into an abandoned church. Hopping off, you lay your arms firmly against your hips. “What is all this?”
It goes unannounced, but he quietly makes his way over to creaky doors. “Would you like to find out?” With a decent round of skepticism, you begrudgingly follow. I don’t see what there could possibly be in here. Why don’t we just go for ice cream? Bringing a finger up to his lips, he signals for you to hush. Doe eyes flutter with curiosity as he makes his way to the altar.
As soon as he kneels down, you awkwardly kick your leg around as you puff your cheeks. You hum slowly as you watch the way he remains still for a while, eyes closed.
“Should I let you have a moment, or…” Be quiet, he hisses. You weren’t necessarily religious but you figured you should give him some space. The sound of old wood crumbles underneath your feet as you walk down the steps. I fucking got it!
You gasp loudly as you recklessly spin around to find him pulling pieces of wood, clearly destroying the already grubby floor. “I’m not that close with the man up above, but I’m almost sure you can’t say shit like that in here, even if it’s abandoned.” You slap your mouth shut as his eyes glimmer with amusement. Heat rises up to your cheeks. “I’m also sure you can’t be doing this! It’s private property.”
“Who’s going to stop me?” he childishly murmurs as he continues with his careless task. “Ouch,” he yelps when a splinter digs through his finger.
“Serves you right.”
Glaring up at your smug figure, the brunette waves you over. “Instead of just standing there, you should help me.”
“With what? There’s nothing valuable here! What are you even looking for?”
With a minor annoyance, he fiercely kicks through the board as it lets loose as cracks. Thunder rumbles as you shake your head with disapproval. You’ve done it. You made God mad, I hope you’re happy. Only, he’s grinning ear to ear as he shows off a small box. You tilt your head with clear confusion as he dashes up to you.
“I can’t believe it’s still here after all these years.” There’s a trace of disbelief and adoration as he takes in the dusty package. There’s a whole galaxy shining within his watercolor eyes when he looks up at you. Your breath gets stuck in your throat.
Blinking rapidly, you gently run your finger across it, skin instantly becoming a dark shade of brown as you scrunch your nose. “What is it?” Your eyebrows arch into a sympathetic peer. “Oh no…did you bury a hamster or something like that in there?”
Tears well up in your eyes as you tap the wood in a downhearted state. “No, you ghoul.” He tenderly opens it up. Pulling out a golden pin, your eyes widen as The Prancing Horse reflects back towards you both.
“My father left this here for me.” You heart swells at the sensitive mention. Charles had told you about his fathers death a few nights ago, so you were still new with deciding how to react. “He said he would, and he did.”
“That’s really sweet,” you whisper, hand pressing against his broad shoulder. “What does it mean?” And it takes you a while to realize that you weren’t asking for your benefit, but rather because you wanted to learn more about the Monegasque. Any crumb felt like a feast to you.
It appears as if he’s playing the words in his head as he runs his thumb against it. “My dad helped build this church when I was 6. It helped bring in a bit of money for the family.” Your eyes glimmer attentively as you nod. “When I had time to get away from boxing…yeah, boxing…he would bring me and my older brother to carry wood. Arthur was much younger.”
His Golden Goose tapped against the brown ground for further classification. “Maman would get upset at him, saying we were just babies, but we didn’t mind at all.” A gray cloud paints his eyes as he twists his lips. “I’m glad we did that, now that I’m older.”
“You must really miss him,” you mumble, glassy eyes shining back at him. He lets out a sorrowful smile.
“I do.” A beat. “But what am I doing acting like I’m the only one who’s had it tough?” Dark brows form a sharp V as he signals to you. “Oh, because of you and your relationship with your parents-”
“I got that,” you scowl with a lighthearted glare. The corner of his lips lift. “But my situation is nothing compared to yours. Sure, my parents and I aren’t close - not enough for my liking - but at least they’re alive.” He flinches slightly as you cradle his face. “I-”
“I know,” he reassures you with a small smile. “He was the best. Always put his family first; his son's dreams were his priority.” He raises the golden pin. “One night after dinner, he mentioned how he hid a small horse somewhere in the church, so that when the time was right, I would go back and look for it. I was covetous, wanted it right there and then. So, I worked up the courage to ask everyone around if they had seen a horse. They looked at me as if I was crazy.” He chuckles.
“He found out and sat me down. Told me it didn’t work like that. My biggest dream was to own a Ferrari, just like everyone in Monaco hopes to. He believed in me, swore that if I worked hard enough, then I could do it. Only then would I know where the mysterious pin was.”
“Lorenzo, my older brother, knew there was a key for…” He signals sheepishly at the wooden floor, a lock hidden in plain sight as he blushes. “I guess I never really learned how to be patient. I barely figured it out a few days ago, when you kicked the cabinet door open.”
You gape. “It was jammed.”
He snickers. “It reminded me of something he had said after he painted the walls. Only the toughest can kick without feeling any regret. He would have loved you, that much I know.”
Flustered, you twirl the hem of your dress. “You’re saying I’m a horse?”
“You’re definitely abnormal.” Your shoulders droop. “All I’m saying is that you helped me find the missing piece. And that means a lot.”
“But you don’t own a Ferrari yet,” you retorted, even though only you knew, you knew the truth, but he doesn’t bat an eye, only clips the pin onto your dress.
“One day I will.” He winks. “Until then, you can take care of this for me.”
-
“Two more weeks, huh?”
Forcing a spoonful of gelato into his mouth, you pout. He struggles to digest the berry treat. “That’s kind of sad. I think I’ll actually miss you, Charles.”
His lips curl. “I know I’ll miss you.” Brown hair flows against the summer breeze. “But it doesn’t have to end like this. We can still see each other. Right?”
“Uh…”
He would find out eventually once the article was published and he would hold every right to hate you. To not want to see you again. Your lack of response has him pinching his face. “You don’t want to?”
Scrambling like a clumsy giraffe, you fidle with a nearby pillow. “I do! But when would we have the time?” You’re going to be too busy racing and hating my guts, you want to spit out when he beams back at you.
“I would make the time just for you.”
Your heart clenches. Could he just be honest? Open up to you. You would gladly do the same, but he needed to do this first to give you the courage to own up to your secrets. Lips part, then purse. “Charles, I-” A ring lingers in the air as he tips his head, giving to the go-ahead. Excusing yourself, you march into the sunny room.
“Yes, hello?”
“How’s vacation?” Eleanor’s rich voice enters your ears as you squirm.
“Vacation?” you squeak.
She sighs. “I’m obviously kidding. Can’t you tell that I’m kidding?” A nervous giggle flutters as you hum back at her. She continues. “Anyways, that's not what I called you for. I just wanted to check up on you.”
“Oh. My injuries are much better. Doc says I can have the casts removed in a week-”
“Let me rephrase. I wanted to check up on your work. Progress.”
“Of course,” you say. “I actually have it done. It just needs a few more rounds of proof-reading, but I’m sure I can send it to you by…” You stare at the calendar. “Two weeks.”
Eleanor clicks her tongue in disapproval. “No, I need it by Friday. Nothing past that.”
Your stomach lurches. “Eleanor, I can’t.” And why not? Biting down on your nails, you peek over to where the brunette sun bathes, or naps, you can’t tell. I need two weeks because by then I’ll be gone and won’t have to deal with a certain driver detesting me. You understand, right? But you don’t say any of that.
“You said it was an exclusive. I need this,” she warns, subtle threat lacing his voice. “We’re talking about one of the most sought-out drivers in all of Formula One. Do you realize what this could do for your career? If you nail this right in the eye, you might even become my right hand. And you know it’s only up from there, sweetheart. Friday.”
“Friday.”
That same night, the sound of your digits hitting the keyboard are the only thing being heard. Charles tries to sneak a peek, but when you cry out stating you were helping a friend get over a break up, he took a step back and scrolled through his phone.
Stellar job…The most…Amazing…
A frustrated growl escapes you as you fist your hands. Taking a look, Charles can’t help but grin. Often misunderstood, the 26 year old deals with lots of… “Argh!” His eyes widened.
“That bad, huh? What did he do to your poor friend?”
“What?” you rudely retort, but quickly try to ease your breathing. “Right. Um. Yeah, men are shit.”
“Of course we are,” he replies warmly. “How about you take a break? If you’re getting too riled up, you won’t do her any good. Just refresh and come back to it. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”
But the blank space has you stressed as you circle back to what Eleanor said over the phone. You had perfect this. “I have to do this. Help her, I mean. Now.”
“You’re too kind.” It’s as if a loving glow towers over his face as he sits at the edge of the bed. “I admire that.”
“You do?”
“Mhm. But seriously, let's go for a walk.”
Despite the sun setting, he of course wears his famous Raybans and a Boston hat lounged over his curly hair. His killer mullet was rolling in as you licked your lips at the dreamy sight.
Wait. No.
With a secretive glance, you find him whistling an unknown tune. Though he wears the darkest shade of sunglasses, you can still feel his warm gaze. Though his luscious hair is draped with an old hat, you can still distinguish his shampoo scent. His body next to yours is enough to make your inside flip as you shake your head abruptly.
This was Charles. Just a friend. A friend for the time being, at least. There was no room to form a crush now. You settled on the fact that he was just merely attractive. That you can do - admit.
“I was serious about what I said earlier today. I will visit you wherever you are.” Green eyes flicker over to you. “You’ve become one of the most important persons in my life. A good friend to have around.”
Your heart for some reason shatters as you squint your eyes at the golden sun. “Right after Amelia and Roman, you are someone I consider a friend, too. I’m glad we met.” A peaceful silence lingers between you two as your heart thuds against your ribcage. “Charles-”
“I know you read my journal.”
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Strangers to Lovers Part 1
Originally thought of as a one-shot but decided to make it a two-part series.
A/N: This is no longer a two-part, there will be multiple parts.
Sherlock x reader
Summary: Being Enola’s sitter was an adventure, but not as much as falling for her brother, Sherlock.
Warnings: NSFW, 18 Only, sex (p in v), cussing, masturbation (f receiving)
If I’m missing any please let me know.
Word Count: 2k+
When Enola was younger, her mother sought you out to take care of her. You accepted gleefully. Meeting Enola for the first time was unlike any other; at the ripe age of eight, she was a daredevil, a venturesome young lady.
After spending most of your time with her, you soon met her brothers, Sherlock and Mycroft. Sherlock was charming but reserved. Mycroft was shrewd and practical.
You are able to read people without fault. It was easy to tell Mycroft wasn’t fond of you. Sherlock wasn’t so easy; he kept a blank expression around you. The difference was that he put in the time and effort to talk and get to you.
Little did you know, he was very fond of you; you were constantly on his mind.
He couldn’t help but analyze every part of you—the way you licked your lips, how you scrunched your eyebrows together when you got confused, the lines on your face from how much you smiled.
When you weren't paying attention, he let his eyes roam downward, noticing how your breasts looked when you breathed in, your delicate fingers, and the beauty of your legs that he wanted to kiss.
It wasn't ethical, but he couldn't care less.
You often found yourself thinking about him as well; you would let your eyes linger on him longer than allowed, especially for a lady.
Especially late at night like now, you were wondering what would happen if the two of you found yourselves in a room alone.
You closed your eyes, imagining him, his curly brown hair, his blue eyes, and that smirk he would occasionally show. Slowly brush your fingers between your thighs, thinking they are his.
As you started to picture his eyes that were looking up at you as he placed kisses between your thighs, you pulled down your panties.
You soon found your clit, making small circles. "Mhm,” a small moan left your lips. Moving your fingers down, you entered two of your fingers, moving them in and out.
You started to pick up your pace. “Oh, Sherlock," you let slip out, still imagining him.
Your pussy squeezed around your fingers, arching your back and moaning his name embarrassingly. You opened your eyes, your brain still in a haze from your orgasm, but he still hadn’t left your mind.
Trying to keep up with Enola was tricky; she kept you on your toes. Her excitement always made your day. At the moment, she was hiding; that was the game of the day. Hide and seek: her version was far more difficult.
She would leave small clues, making you think you’re on the right track, but it’s quite the opposite.
Walking around the house, you were checking each room thoroughly. A door at the end of the hall was already open; you checked inside, noticing it appeared empty.
“Enola, Enola, sweetie, where are you?” You walked into the room, searching as if you were a detective. You saw a desk, which she could easily hide under. Walking around it, you bent down to check.
But, of course, no luck.
“What are you looking for?” You accidentally hit your head, and his voice made you jump.
"Ow!” you winced, rubbing your head to ease the throbbing pain. Sherlock walked over to you, offering his hand.
“Enola is hiding; I’m looking for her. I saw the door was open, so I decided to check.”
He nodded his head. “Would you like some help? I have an idea of where she could be."
“Yes, she doesn't make it easy,” you chuckled awkwardly, looking down, your heart pounding out of your chest.
He put his thumb underneath your chin, making you look at him. “Let’s go”
You followed him, finding Enola hiding in a closed-off room.
She had a laughing fit, making fun of you for taking so long and having to involve her older brother to help. Enola left the room, leaving only you and Sherlock. You started to follow her, but Sherlock stopped you.
“Let me make sure you’re okay; you hit your head hard.”
He took you back to his office, guiding you down on his leather loveseat. He started checking you for a concussion and then brought you a cold pack for the small bump that was forming on your scalp.
He sat next to you, making you stiff. “Thank you for helping me,” you said, looking over at him. “It’s my pleasure, y/f/n."
It was getting dark out; you had to leave, but you wanted to stay here with him. “I should go home; it’s almost night out."
Sherlock didn’t want that to happen; his question could go wrong. But he wanted you to himself, if only for tonight.
“Would you want to stay for the night? I would be delighted to keep you company.”
You were taken aback by his question. Your answer was yes, but nothing came out. His facial expression turned worrisome. “Don’t worry about it”, "Yes,” you said eagerly, hoping he didn’t take notice. “Yes, I would be happy to stay.”
You showed a calm facade, but that’s not how you were feeling.
He began to show you his work and what interested him. “Do you wish for a drink?”, He was pouring himself one. "No, thank you; I don’t drink,” you said with a small smile.
Your eyes were scanning his wall, which had a map covering it with small dots placed in certain places.
He stood next to you, drink in hand, watching you concentrate on his work.
You turned to look at him, and you smiled. “Yes?” You were unsure of why he was looking at you in such a way. But then he lowered his head and kissed you.
After he kissed you, your eyes widened in surprise. But that surprise soon turned into enjoyment.
You cupped his face while he placed his hand on your lower back. He tried to set down his drink with his eyes closed, but it fell and shattered on the floor. Neither of you faltered from the enchanting kiss.
He pushed you backward, lifting and placing you on top of his desk. Your thoughts were running wild; was this really going to happen? Your questions were answered when he roamed his large hands under your dress. treading lightly, his hands hovering once they reached closer to your core.
He wanted this; he had imagined it countless times in his head. But he couldn’t go rough with you like he wanted; this wasn't normal, and this shouldn’t be happening since the two of you weren't married. And a woman like you? He thought, wasn’t someone you just fucked and then left in the morning? That was not you.
You hated that he was going slow; he was starting to pull away, but an instinct in you grabbed him by his hips and pulled him forward harder.
“I want this, Sherlock; don’t be gentle with me. I want you."
Hearing you say those words broke Sherlock's facade. He snapped, locking your legs tightly around his waist as he walked the both of you over to his leather couch. He laid you down, hovering above you, teasing you with his mouth.
He stood up, removing his bowtie, followed by his vest and white shirt. His chest, his chest—you couldn’t wait to roam your hands up and down his hairy chest. You let a moan out just by the look of him; he got on top of you, recklessly ripping your own clothes off.
He took a long look at you, salivating. He needed to get inside of you.
His kisses were sloppy with need, as were yours. You were getting wetter by the second, and yet he hadn’t really touched you. “Touch me, please."
He snacked his hands down to your clit, rubbing circles while kissing and sucking on your neck. You held his head, moaning his name. He left my neck and came face-to-face with me. “You want me inside of you? Do you want my cock to fill your pussy?”
“Please, yes, I need you."
Removing his pants eagerly, he lined his cock up, smoothly coaxing his cock in my wetness, before deeply entering slowly at first, then removing before entering again faster each time.
Your nails are scratching at his back, making him grunt in your ear. “Your pussy is so tight around me; it feels so fucking good.”
You wanted him deeper in you; you wanted to feel every inch of him. "I want to feel all of you.
He thrust his hips rougher this time, your back arched, and that gave him a chance to put his arm underneath you to change positions. Now, sitting up right, you are on his lap, riding him. He helped you with his hands on your hips, guiding you to bounce up and down.
“God, you are memorizing.”
His eyes were rolling to the back of his head as he closed them. “Just like that, baby,” he grabbed a hold of your breasts, squeezing them gently and rubbing your nipples, making them erect and pleasurable going through you.
His curly hair covered his face, brushing back just as he grabbed the back of your neck, forcing you forward. His tongue danced with yours, so far down your throat that you sucked on it.
His lips were soft; they had you memorized in a daze, moaning into his mouth. You felt yourself coming.
“Sherlock, fill me up with your seed."
“You want my seed? Want to feel it dripping down your thighs?"
"Yes, please, yes. I’m cumming on your cock."
You pulsated around him, your thighs shaking, and you saw stars in your vision as you came on his cock.
He stopped his movements, his nails digging into your skin as he groaned aloud, his head falling forward onto your chest. Both of you were heaving, trying to regain your breathing.
The smell of sex radiating in the room and the glistening sweat off of your and Sherlock’s bodies made this moment intimate. One you hadn't shared with another.
After the night you and Sherlock shared in his office, the both of you fell deeply in love. Sharing every passing moment with one another. And when the both of you weren't together, you were thinking about each other.
He told you countless stories about his endeavors, what he’s done, and the kinds of cases he’s received and solved.
Enola was so happy; she thought of you as a sister already, but now she couldn’t contain her excitement about how the both of you would end up being family.
You pretended not to notice at times the way Sherlock would stare at you; he would admire you from afar, from your side profile, any time he got the chance.
You were certain that nothing would break the two of you apart or that he would break your heart.
So you thought...
One day, out of the blue, Sherlock didn't meet you at the time planned; you were at his house, waiting for him to come home.
You were taken by surprise when you heard a person knock at his door, and you went to open it. A postman handed you a letter and left abruptly. You shut the door and sat down. It was signed with your name.
Opening the letter, you started to read what it said.
You read the letter over and over again until you couldn’t anymore.
This couldn’t be true, you thought; he couldn’t have left you.
He loved you. No, no, he loves you. So this couldn’t be the end.
You waited all night to hear the front door open. To hear his voice call out for you, but by the time you saw the sun rising, you knew he had left. He was gone. You fell to the ground with an uncontrollable sob. The tears never ended. You began to hyperventilate; it felt as if your oxygen was cut off.
You were at home as your tears started to stop; now you felt your blood boil.
He is a coward.
He couldn't even face you; had he that little respect for you?
A person who loves you does not treat you in such a way.
Your face was red, and your eyes weren’t brimming with sadness anymore but with anger.
You weren't going to let him hurt you in this way again. He wouldn't get the chance.
But everyone does have a weakness... He happens to be yours, and you his.
Part 2
#henry cavill#first post#fluff#henry cavill smut#sherlock holmes#smutty#sherlock fanfic#sherlock fandom#sherlock x reader#henry cavill sherlock holmes#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill x reader#enola holmes#strangers to lovers#sherlock holmes smut#sherlock holmes x you
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this is what it feels like
warning: sfw, fluff, comfort | seeing them after a long time apart
includes: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, Thoma, Zhongli, Xiao
character x gn reader | anthology | short read
You could feel your heart, how it thrummed in your chest and fluttered slightly when you picked up the pace. The closer you got to your destination, the more painful the waiting became. You wanted to be there, wanted to see him with eyes you swore were growing cloudy and getting more challenging to keep clear.
You were ready, so you practically ran.
Albedo
Sounds of whirring machines spilled into the hallway. They mingled with the swift, drumming pace of your footsteps. A voice, his voice, slipped through the cracks in the door and you pushed forward, ignoring the kind strangers who greeted you.
There was only one thing - one person - on your mind.
Albedo.
"It may be that a miscalculation occurred; I would recommend we review more closely the --" Alebeo paused mid-sentence and lifted his head from the bent-back notebook he was previously reviewing. The student who was sitting in the chair next to him saw you as soon as you stepped through the door. They glanced at Albedo and tried to hide their smile.
Albedo twisted and your eyes met.
"Hi," you said with a small wave. Panting, focused on the man you'd dreamed about seeing for days. Now that you were here, however, it was hard to move again. Was it appropriate for you to be here, had you interrupted something important?
You let your one-track mind get the better of you again.
Albedo let the notebook slide into the ready hands of his student. His gaze locked, taking all of you in.
You laughed, relieved, "I'm home," you professed with a smile and opened your arms as Albedo left his work behind to greet you with a wanting embrace.
--
Childe
You better return to me
-
I promise
The promise you made over a week ago swirled in your mind. You'd let the scene play out so much that it was starting to twist and distort into fallacies and imaginations untrue to the source. However, nothing dared warp the feeling of his lips when he pressed them to your cheek and whispered, 'Don't make me wait long.' Those recollections lived on in destitute moments just before bed and the bittersweet seconds of rising from it.
But, now. Now the boat was pulling into port and you could hardly contain your excitement.
Would he be there? Would he be the first thing you see when you docked?
You were desperate, hopeful, but most of all, you were tired of feeling lonely.
The dock appeared slowly. You scanned the sturdy boards for him and rushed to the other side of the bow to get another view. No matter how hard you looked, you couldn't find him. You jerked forward as the boat docked and wasted no time making it to the pier below.
With your bag slung over your shoulder, you ran into the thick of the crowd. Eyes scanning, head on a swivel as you searched for him. People glanced your way but kept on. One woman looked at you with knowing eyes - eyes that lamented, 'You're looking for your lover too, aren't you?'
You turned to look down the stone harbor but couldn't see him. Disheartened, you let your bag fall to your side.
Then, like the whistling wind of the sea, you heard your name. Snapping your head to the left, you saw a man standing at the top of the stone hill, chest heaving, shoulders rising and falling, and eyes zeroed in on you.
"Ajax!" You called back, dropping your bag where it was and rushing up the hill to meet him. He did the same, and as you ran toward each other, you crashed into him like a wave. Childe hoisted you in the air. The momentum carried the two of you toward the water, but he never let you go. "I've returned. As promised," you told him, tears bubbling up in your eyes so you hid your face against his shoulder.
"So you did," he replied, kissing the top of your head and tightening his hold on you as if his hands were making their own vows to never let you go again.
--
Diluc
It had been weeks since the two of you had seen each other. Weeks since you had woken up next to him or found him lost in thought in his study. Countless hours had gone by since you heard his voice or felt the warmth of his touch. You were desperate for it but also nervous to accept it again.
Distance was meant to make the heart grow stronger, right?
As you paced back and forth across the floor, you were starting to regret your decision to hide in the upper room of Angel's Share. Charle's assured you he'd send Diluc your way, but what if they got busy, what if Diluc realized he needed to walk back to the Winery? You should have gone to the estate instead of concocting some elaborate surprise - especially when you were terrible at them.
Shaking your head, you made for the door. Unable to keep the antsy tingling of your nerves from taking over, but the moment you grabbed the doorknob, heavy footfalls made you freeze and you were just fast enough to stumble back when the door swung open with immense force.
Your alarm was replaced by overflowing elation at the sight that greeted you. Diluc's hand gripped the doorknob, his eyes held pools of desperation as they looked at you, as they searched your face, pleading to reassure him that you were, in fact, not a dream.
"I'm home-" you started but he cut you off by pulling you into a suffocating hug. His body leaned into yours, his palm cupped the back of your head and his other gripped the back of your clothes. You returned the hug with just as much fervor.
Pulling back, you pressed your hands against his cheeks and found his lips like one finds a flicker of light in utter darkness. You heard the sound of the door slam shut but didn't care to pull away enough to look. Diluc's fingers tugged at your hair while he kissed you with famished lips.
"I hate when you leave," he professed when he let you finally catch your breath, his eyes heavy, lost in you.
"I'm not fond of it either," you admitted and let your fingers rest against his chin. "Did Charles tell you I was back?"
Diluc shook his head, his lips brushing over yours and placing several more heated kisses against them, "I heard you."
Furrowing your brows, you pulled away even though he tried to chase you, "Up here? That could have been anyone," you chuckled.
"No one else's footsteps sound like my dreams," he explained and you answered him with a trembling lip and a warm, forever, embrace.
--
Thoma
It had been nearly two weeks since you'd been near Thoma. Since you'd received the comfort he was so keen on giving. Since he reminded you of the qualities you forgot when he wasn't around. Since you could caress his face and have him touch yours.
Each night was more challenging. Sending letters was too slow. Hearing updates from others felt impersonal. You wanted to see him, wanted to hold him, wanted to hear him. So, you picked up the pace and apologized to the attendants you waved off so you wouldn't get distracted.
Your chest tightened the moment you saw him. Even when you tugged at your clothes to create space, it wasn't enough to alleviate the pressure building inside your ribcage. Your heart ached. Involuntary tears ran down your cheeks. Taking a step toward him, the wooden boards beneath you creaked and, though it was small, quiet, impossible to detect even for you, Thoma stopped what he was doing and turned toward the noise.
Confusion shifted to disbelief until realization set in and the pounding sound of his footsteps made their way toward you.
Thoma wrung his hands on the towel tucked into his pants so that when he made it to you and slid his arms under you to lift you into the air before letting you fall toward him, against him, in his arms that felt so much like home, he made sure his hands were clean and void of any stain that could tarnish you.
"I missed you," he proclaimed, one hand flush against the back of your head while the other kept you as close as it could.
"I missed you more," you admitted and held onto him with no intent of letting go.
--
Zhongli
You pressed a finger to your lips to hush the receptionist whose eyes lit up at the sight of you. "He's in his office," they whispered with a smile. You nodded and crept further into the parlor. The halls were coated in familiar scents. Scents you associated with the resigned archon who walked them every day.
When you got to the door, you lifted your hand to knock, hesitated, then let your knuckle rap against the door one, two, three times.
"Enter," the voice on the other side said, so you did. "I have yet to sign off on the procession request. The contract is of issue, which I will review with careful consideration ..." Zhongli explained, and you stifled a laugh.
He was turned away from you. His elegant chair turned to face the window. A steaming cup of tea had been left abandoned on his desk - a clear sign he was lost in thought.
When you were close enough, you slid your hands around his face to cover his eyes. Without missing a beat, Zhongli said your name, ruining the surprise.
"How did you know it was me?" you asked as he twisted in his chair to take your hands in his and hold them tenderly against his lips.
"I would recognize the sound of your footsteps even if time had taken all my senses," he professed as if it were a simple fact, as he kissed the tips of your fingers in adoration. When he looked at your face you were trying your best to keep your eyes upward to stop the tears that fell because of him.
Because of the love of him.
"I missed you dearly," he added, his thumb caressing your cheek to wipe away the warm tears.
"I missed you. So much," you mirrored and wrapped your arms around his shoulders even as he rose to his full height to draw you nearer to him.
--
Xiao
The marshland smelled just the way you remembered, the clinging warmth of it lingered on your skin. After being on the dry, salt-biting sea for so long you could feel yourself reacclimating to the climate.
It had been weeks since you last saw him.
You almost couldn't stand it.
The tower that was Wangshu Inn lingered in the distance but no matter how close you got to it, the further away it seemed. You were frustrated, anxious, ready to climb to the top and wrap your arms around the man who invaded your thoughts more often than you thought possible.
You imagined him, remembered the comfort of him, could recall the lingering presence of him - like something familiar was hovering in the edges of your view, but you could never quite place it. He was always there - or, at least, the intensity of your love for him felt that way.
"Almost there," you promised as you climbed one of the red bridges above the streams surrounding the marsh.
"Took you long enough," a voice answered, making you spin on your toes to see its owner.
Xiao stood at the bottom of the bridge, arms crossed, eyes falling to the ground while you stared at him in disbelief.
Was it really him, or was it another figment of your desperate imagination?
When his eyes met yours, you knew. You knew it was real, and so you ran to him. Xiao caught you like wind rushing through his hair, and you slid your fingers across his back to remind your hands what he felt like.
"Aren't you going to say it?" he asked, gruff and close as he pressed his forehead against your neck.
"Say wh--? Oh, sorry," you laughed, overwhelmed with love and joy, "I'm home."
"Welcome home."
--
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin elixir#genshin impact x gn reader#genshin imagines#hazels works#albedo x gn reader#thoma x gn reader#diluc x gn reader#zhongli x gn reader#xiao x gn reader#childe x gn reader
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