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cordeliawhohung · 9 months

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The Emptiness had Always Been There

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader part 3 of "soft spot"

You dig the knife in deep. Simon isn't scared. Why isn't he scared?

Warnings: Alcohol, talk of sex, descriptions of an anxiety/panic attack, a little bit of PTSD, allusions to past dubcon, reader is a little traumatized, Ghost is a natural caretaker.

wc: 6.4k

“Are you sure you should be having another one?”

The half-raised glass of the fruity drink you had ordered at the bar stopped short of your lips at your co-workers question. She stared at you with that question heavy in her eyes as she glanced back and forth between you and your drink.

“Huh?” you asked, setting it down on the table.

“That’s almost your third, maybe fourth one of the hour. You’re gonna get pissed before we even get tipsy,” the other woman at the table teased.

Cheryl and Méabh. They were two of the girls at the bank who you were closest with, and they had both managed to rope you into a night out drinking. Or, at least you were drinking. They were still on the first drinks they had ordered nearly forty minutes ago.

Méabh was a sweet girl with bright eyes. He had only been working at the bank for about a year by that point. She worked there part time in the morning before her afternoon classes at university, but she always baked sweet pastries and made cute cards for everyone on their birthdays. Cheryl was a bit older than you, and gushed about her two children whenever she got the chance. She was as much of a motherly figure as you were going to get while living in London, and the concern in her eyes only reminded you of that fact.

“Yeah, of course. Probably should hold off a bit,” you said with a chuckle.

Truth was, by that point in the evening, you were already starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Fruity drinks were the bane of your existence. They tasted too good, yet were full nearly to the brim with alcohol that would knock you on your ass by the end of the night. Every time you looked around, it was as if your head kept moving long after you had told it to stop.

Neither of the women in front of you were very covert in their glance at one another. The concern was practically seeping through their pores by that point, and it didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Cheryl invited you out because she’s worried about you,” Méabh suddenly admitted, eyes landing back on you once more. “She thinks you’ve been more distracted than normal.”

“Jesus Christ, Méabh, you can’t just blurt that out,” Cheryl chastised the girl as if she were her own child.

“Don’t look at me like that. We’ve been here for almost an hour and you haven’t even brought it up yet,” Méabh retorted. “It’s getting late, and I’ve got my tutoring job in the morning.”

Really, you hadn’t expected something like that from Méabh. She was always so reserved, despite her cheerfulness, and though she didn’t sound angry, she was certainly assertive.

“Distracted?” you repeated, your hand reaching out to absentmindedly grab your near empty glass. “As in like, at work, or…?”

Cheryl turned her attention back to you, her gaze softening at the concern in your voice. “Well, not necessarily. It’s just… you’ve been acting like you’ve got something on your mind lately.”

You could feel heat begin to rise to your cheeks, and you weren’t quite sure if it was because of the slight embarrassment or the alcohol. Either way, you lifted the glass off the table and took a quick sip before setting it back down.

“Oh. Well, I guess, maybe a little?” you said, unsure.

Both of the women hummed and nodded their heads in understanding, but their eyes still held something else behind them. More questions they wanted to ask. The silence that stretched between the three of you made you want to down the remainder of your drink.

“How are things with you and Simon?” Méabh asked, her soft smile radiating the corner of the bar you found yourselves in.

Simon. Simon Riley. Over the last few months that the two of you had been together, you learned quite a lot about that man. Earl Grey tea was his favorite, and so painfully stereotypical of him (not that you could blame him, as you fancied yourself a vanilla tea misto on particularly cold days). He would shiver every time you kissed the scar on his cheek. He hated Christmas, but whenever you asked him why he told you he always thought it was tacky (this was a lie, and you knew it, but you refused to push him on it). If he had family, he didn’t talk about them, but would mention small details about the members of the task force he was a part of.

Despite how quiet he could be at times, he was absolutely charming, albeit a bit cocky in a way. He was confident, and showered you with as much love and affection he could offer you whenever he wasn’t off on the other side of the world. On Valentines day, he sent you flowers at work (unsigned, of course, but you knew who they were from), and when you had gotten sick with the flu he provided you with all the medicine you would need (despite the fact you told him not to worry about it).

He was tall, and towered over every other person you ever knew, and he always came back with some sort of wound from his missions. In a way, he should have terrified you. Yet he was so soft with you, so sweet. He nearly shattered someone's jaw only to walk you home afterwards. He was everything you could have ever wanted, and maybe more than what you deserved.

And yet, there was still something in the back of your mind. This terrible, burning feeling that whispered to you day and night. That seed of doubt had been planted in you long ago. Someone had come in and taken their trowel, cutting you straight to the core where they shoved that terrible, decaying feeling deep inside you before patting it over, leaving it to fester.

But you weren’t about to spill that to your co-workers.

“They’re great. Yeah, things are good,” you answered, mustering a tight lipped smile.

“It’s the sex, isn’t it?”

Horrified, Méabh looked at Cheryl with wide eyes and mouth agape. “Bloody hell,” she breathed. “You yell at me for blurting out that we’re concerned about her, but you casually ask if she’s getting shagged?”

“Well, I certainly worded it more tactfully than that.”

Well, now the heat in your face was for sure from embarrassment. Your hand once more grasped around your drink and you shook your head before quickly taking a few large gulps. The sight of it only made Cheryl grin, and she leaned her elbows on the table.

“But I’m right, aren’t I?” the woman pushed. “I’ve been on this earth long enough to know that sex can make or break a relationship. So, what is it? Your needs not being met, or what?”

You averted your gaze from them and instead turned your attention to the table. It was made of some sort of faux wood that had deep gashes in it from god knows what. The multicolored lights that were strung up around the ceiling of the bar reflected slightly off of the dull plastic, and they started to blend together in a shade that made your stomach feel queasy.

Maybe you really should have laid off the drinks.

“We haven’t… we haven’t had sex,” you admitted softly, biting the corner of your lip.

“Oh,” Cheryl said, surprised. “How long have the two of you been dating?”

“Since the end of January, so… four? Five months?” you threw out a guess, unable to think straight between the pressure of the conversation and the alcohol rotting your stomach.

The woman nodded her head as she reached up and shoved some of her greying hair behind her ear. “Well, that should be plenty of time. Just nervous or what?”

“God, wouldn’t you be?” Méabh interjected. “You’ve seen the size of that guy. He’d probably break the bed and your goddamn hips with it.”

Cheryl threw the girl a look of warning as your face fell into your hands. A groan huffed from your chest as you heavily rubbed at your eyes.

“God, I don’t wanna think about that,” you slurred.

Leaning over the table, Cheryl gave your shoulder a firm, motherly squeeze while offering a sympathetic smile. “What’s the matter then, darling?”

Your hands fell from your face, and you stared at the table once more as you thought. It felt like that’s all you ever did those days; think. Think and think and think and god, it was getting annoying. Worms infested your brain, whispering terrible lies and sickening worries so much so that their thoughts had replaced your own.

“I just, I don’t know. After everything with Eric I guess I’m maybe a little apprehensive? Or something?” you rambled. “Which is, like, stupid because they're nothing alike. Like, I know Simon looks scary and he’s in the military and he’s quiet but… fuck he’s… he’s so good to me, you guys.”

Eric, your ex, was… less than perfect. It was impossible to expect anyone to be perfect, but between the arguing, and the fighting, and the bruises and the degrading… Even before all that had started, back in the honeymoon phase, back before everything started going wrong, he had always put his needs above your own. It was almost as if the man had never heard of aftercare before in his life at all. Once he was finished, then so were you, and you were left behind to clean up the mess he made of you, and everything else.

But Simon was different. He had to be different. Because in reality, you were terrified of getting that close with someone again. Of being used and tossed aside. And yet you panicked and told yourself that if you didn’t give in soon, maybe he would get bored of you, and you would end up all alone in that big city in your big apartment that you were struggling to afford.

Fuck, were you going to cry?

Once more the rim of the glass cup came to your lips and you took another thick gulp to distract yourself before quickly blinking the moisture out of your eyes. Whatever horror that had been painted onto Méabh’s face was replaced with the same concern Cheryl wore. Even though it felt nice to have someone worry about you, the last thing you wanted was their pity.

“Hey, it’s alright to be anxious,” Méabh assured you. “Eric was a prick. You’ve every right to be worried.”

Cheryl nodded her head in agreement. “But at the same time, don’t let that hold you back if it’s what you want. Keyword, what you want. Take all the time you need, but you can’t let that arsehole control you forever.” She took a moment to pause and look you over, and a small smirk appeared on her face. “Or, just dive headfirst into it. I think you’ve got enough liquid courage coursing through you for that.”

It was a joke, and a poor one at that, but you were thankful for it nonetheless. You laughed a silly, unfiltered laugh and the two women beamed at you. Whatever concern they had for you previously seemed to melt away as they changed the spotlight of the conversation away from you. Cheryl told a story about how her first marriage ended, and though the events weren’t funny, the way she told the story was. Perhaps in an attempt to make you feel better, Méabh indulged in her countless failed relationships with both the men and women she had met while at university.

Eventually, the three of you had stayed there so long the bartender was beginning to grow a little impatient, giving you eyes that screamed for you all to just let him go home already. So you downed the rest of your drink and began to get some cash out of your bag, but as you went to stand up it felt like the floor was moving from underneath you.

“Whoa,” Méabh warned, gently pushing you back into your chair. “Take it easy, babe. I’ll take the cash up for you.”

Huffing, you obliged, and sat back at the table like a child as they helped you pay for the drinks you had indulged in too greatly that night. When they returned, they started to grab their own bags as they fumbled for their car keys.

“Need a ride?” Méabh asked.

You shook your head. “Nah, I walked here.”

Both of them froze, and after sharing glances with one another, Cheryl looked at you and crossed your arms. “You’re taking the piss outta me if you think we’re going to let you walk yourself home. Now you either come with one of us, or you call that boy of yours to come get you.”

A small scoff escaped your lips as you rummaged through your bag in search of your phone. “Boy…” you muttered, pulling your phone out and scrolling until you found Simon’s contact. “Six foot, four inches, and you’re calling him a boy.”

Simon picked up on the third ring. Even after the few months the two of you had been together, you couldn’t get over the sound of his voice. The shitty audio quality of the phone didn’t do him full justice, but just hearing the lilt of his Manchester accent had you nearly falling out of your seat.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard. “Hey, uhm… I went out with a few friends from work and uh… I know it’s late, and I’m sorry but-”

“Need a ride?” he interjected, cutting you off in the middle of your drunken ramble. Not in a rude way, but in a way that was more finishing your thought process. Or maybe he could just tell what you were working up towards asking by the slur of your words.

“Yes,” you said with a breathy laugh. “Yes, please.”

He hummed, dark and low and in a way that the phone hardly picked it up, but it was there. “The one on twenty-first?”

You nodded your head and stayed silent for a short moment. When he hadn’t responded, you blinked a few times to try and clear your mind, trying to remind yourself that you were, afterall, on the phone. “Sorry, yes, yes. Twenty-first.”

“I’ll be right there,” he assured you.

When you two said your goodbyes, you looked up at your co-workers with a toothy grin. Once they were certain you would be alright, you said your goodbyes before they left to go back to their own homes and families and lives. As you sat waiting for Simon, your eyes couldn’t help but wander back to your empty glass.

What had that been? Was it really your fourth? Or had it been your fifth? You couldn’t remember, but it must have been. And you must have drank it quickly too, because even though you had stopped drinking maybe thirty minutes ago, it was as if the backlog of all the liquid you had chugged was finally hitting you. Your stomach was starting to spin as fast as your head was, and you had to take a deep breath to try and steady your frayed nerves.

Or, just dive headfirst into it. I think you’ve got enough liquid courage coursing through you for that.

“Fuck…”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You didn’t have to wait long for Simon to come pick you up, and he practically had to carry you to his car. It wasn’t a secret that he was concerned for your wellbeing, as the moment his eyes landed on you he almost looked a little scared, and so you did your best to ease his nerves by doing the only thing you knew best; talk. So you talked and giggled over everything and nothing the entire drive back to your apartment. You weren’t quite sure if he even responded to half of the things you said, but you weren’t talking to entertain him, anyways.

Things weren’t much different by the time you actually arrived home. Stairs proved to be a challenge for you, and you found your breath being stolen by the way Simon rested his hand on your lower back to keep you steady. He walked a few steps behind you, watching you carefully in case you should fall. By the time you made it to the landing, he had to be the one to put the keys in the lock for you as you kept missing and scraping it along the side of it.

The very moment the door was open, you tossed your bag somewhere on the floor before making a beeline to the couch. If you stayed on your feet any longer, you felt like you really were going to fall over, and you weren’t trying to embarrass yourself that much in front of Simon that night.

“Thanks for the ride,” you sighed as you sunk back into your, frankly, uncomfortably sofa. “Sorry it’s so late.”

“Don’t be,” he said, adjusting the straps of his mask. “I don’t want you to ever hesitate to call me if you need me.”

A soft hum rumbled in your chest as you watched Simon walk further into the living room after ensuring the deadbolt was locked. God, just the sight of him sent your mind spinning, and the alcohol wasn’t helping. His mussed hair, those broad shoulders that could engulf you in a simple squeeze, and that damn tattoo peeking out from underneath the sleeve of his sweater.

You smiled softly as he knelt in front of you, his eyes glancing to your feet. Even with him knelt down he was hardly much shorter than from where you were sitting on the couch.

“Gonna muck up the floors,” he muttered softly.

You watched him as he carefully reached for your shoes where he undid the laces, only struggling a little bit with the double knots. His hand gently grabbed your ankle, lifting your leg up just enough to slide the shoe off before carefully setting it back on the ground. Your heart pounded so violently in your chest you swore you felt it palpitate. How could he be so soft with you?

“It’s fine. I can always clean them,” you said as he set your shoe to the side.

“You’re not going to want to,” he retorted.

Once he started on your second shoe, you found yourself enamored by his face. Or what you could make of it through that mask he always wore. With it nearing summer, he wasn’t wearing the balaclava as much, and opted for the surgical style cloth mask that was a bit more accepted. You liked it more because it showed his hair. But what you really wanted to see was his face. All of it. The slight stubble on his face, the cheeks that you loved to pepper with kisses and caress with your thumbs…

Before you knew it, your finger was hooked underneath the fabric of his mask, which caused him to pause midway through taking your shoe off. Yet he then continued as if nothing happened, and your shoe slid off with ease. When your feet were finally free from the confines of your shoes, and the floor no longer being assaulted by the dirt from outside, Simon looked up at you, his eyes shining as your finger stayed hooked under his mask.

Reading your mind wasn’t difficult, as you were practically asking out loud for it. Simon reached his hands up and in one smooth motion pulled his mask off before setting it on the arm of the couch next to you. A grin broke out on your face as your hand instantly made its home against the flesh of his cheek.

“You’re so handsome,” you said, nearly cooing.

He didn’t break eye contact with you as his hands slowly reached for your shoes, taking them in his hands before he slowly stood up. “I know.”

You huffed as he shot you a playful smirk before walking towards the entryway and placing your shoes against the wall next to his boots. You watched him carefully; how small your shoes looked in his hands, how the fabric of his sweater stretched against his back as he leaned forward, the way his hands rubbed at the back of his neck as he disappeared into the kitchen.

“You’re awfully modest, you know that?” you called out to him in a teasing tone.

Simon let out his own small huff before it was smothered by the sound of running water. “Haven’t been called that in a while,” he mused. Moments later he returned back through the doorway, a cup of water in hand, which he held out to you the moment he was near the couch. “Drink.”

When you reached for the cup the first time, you nearly missed. Giggling your blunder away, you held out both of your hands instead, trying to keep as steady as possible as you then brought the glass to your lips. It was refreshing to have the cool taste of water wash over your tongue rather than the sugary, and somewhat biting taste of alcohol. It didn’t do much to wash away the aftertaste of everything you had drank at the bar, but it was enough.

While you sipped away, Simon slowly lowered himself into the spot next to you on the sofa. It was the usual thing the two of you did whenever you were craving a night in. Slight cuddling on the sofa, watching something on the television, trying not to fall asleep. But this time you couldn’t look away from him. The way he placed his arm along the back of the couch, resting behind your head; the way his shirt stretched over the expanse of his chest; all of it drew you in.

“See something you like?” Simon asked, brow raised slightly as he continued to tease you as usual.

Why did you feel so… queasy? That twisting feeling in your stomach, and that spinning feeling in your head. Vision constantly rotating so fast your body couldn’t keep up. Was it the alcohol? No, alcohol never made your heart lurch like that. Never made it beat so fast that it felt like it was going to tear itself to shreds. Was it Simon?

Just dive headfirst into it.

You took your eyes off of Simon long enough to set your cup on the side table next to you, and then in an instant you were swinging your leg over to straddle his hips. He looked up at you with his mouth slightly parted in surprise as he watched you settle yourself onto his lap. Instinctively his hands came to rest on your waist, helping to steady your slight swaying as you put your arms on his shoulders.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low as his eyes scanned your face.

Something in his eyes softened as he looked at you. Whatever playfulness or cockiness that had been there before melted away as his grip on you became more firm. His eyes were beautiful, and honestly, they were probably your favorite thing about him. Sometimes, when the sunlight hit them just right, the dark brown color would brighten to that of sweet honey. In a way, it was ironic that a man of his nature could hold so much softness to him. But you found you also liked it when the color of his eyes were dark. So dark that they looked endless, as if his irises were some void inviting you in.

But everything started to fall apart after that. You could feel it in your trembling legs and the pressure building behind your eyes. Everything was too fuzzy. Too bright. Too soft. Too loud. God, it was loud. Deafening. It was too much. Too everything. It was everything all at once. Except for Simon. He was beautiful. So beautiful, so soft, so careful.

How you wanted to fall into him. To fall and fall and let his arms catch you. To hold you. To pin you. Pin you and pin you. Feel his teeth graze against you and take. And take and take and take. Would it… hurt? Did you want it to hurt? Did you like it when it did? Like it did when you were with him? Him? With Eric? Face into the mattress, palm of his hand pushing you down. He was always so greedy. And greedy and greedy and greedy.

You can’t let that arsehole control you forever.

In a last ditch attempt to get your nerves under control, you gripped the collar of his shirt with both of your hands before descending on him with your eyes shut tight. Flesh collided with your lips but it felt empty. It felt cold. It wasn’t like the kisses Simon normally gave you. It was wrong.

When you opened your eyes, you found that you hadn’t even made it halfway to Simon’s lips before something stopped you. His hand. It pressed firmly against your mouth, holding you back away from him. He wasn’t pushing you away, he had only created a barrier. A line. And he wasn’t going to let you cross it.

“You’re drunk,” he said. It sounded so funny to hear him say it. Like it wasn’t obvious. But that’s not what he meant when he said it, and you knew it. It was an answer. It was him saying no.

His hand lingered on your mouth for a moment and he didn’t pull it away until you nodded your head. A part of you felt ashamed. No, all of you felt ashamed. What were you thinking? Had you even been thinking at all? Was he going to see you as some idiot? Some stupid girl?

You fucking minx.

“Sorry,” you stuttered out, your voice trembling. “I, uhm… I didn’t mean…”

Simon hushed you. Not to interrupt you (as there wasn’t much to interrupt to begin with,) but to soothe you. It wasn’t until he did this that you felt the moisture starting to stain your cheeks, and his hand returned to your face once more to wipe at the tears there.

“Come here,” he urged as his hand slowly pulled you closer.

Before you knew it you were against his chest where his hand held the back of your head, keeping you firmly tucked underneath his chin. While his hand rubbed soothing circles into your scalp, his other arm stayed wrapped firmly around your waist, making you feel secure against him despite the fact that everything still felt like it was rotating and trying to drag you along with it.

You didn’t want to cry, but you did. An embarrassing amount, at that. It was mostly silent with sniffles here and there as the proof of your sorrow soaked into the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t say anything, and you were honestly glad he didn’t. You didn’t need to be questioned at that moment, or talked through anything. All you needed was the firm reminder that you were there with him.

Once your sniffling and hiccuping stopped, Simon’s hands slowly began to move down your body. His touch ran down your spine in smooth, solid motions, and you felt your body begin to go limp. The drowsiness of the alcohol began to shut down your nerves in a rolling blackout, and eventually it felt like every part of you was fried.

Never had you felt so empty before. No, the emptiness had always been there, looming in the dark chasm of your chest. You had just filled it with so much junk, so much nonsense so that for some fleeting moment you could forget about the gaping hole left where your stomach was supposed to be. But Simon had torn out that unnecessary waste and stared straight into that emptiness inside of you.

For some reason, he didn’t seem scared.

Why wasn’t he scared?

And so the two of you stayed like that with your legs still straddling his hips but the side of your face pressed against his newly damp shirt. Eventually the movement of his hands stopped and he just held you, still not saying anything. There was nothing but you, him, and the silence. Of course there was still the festering wound in your stomach, eating you alive from the inside out, but for that moment, that short, fleeting moment, you pretended that it wasn’t there.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

When the morning sun hit your face, you thought it wasn’t real. It was warm, and felt like liquid gold against your eyelids, just like in the way poets always described it. However, all its softness and grace did nothing to wash away the terrible ache that smothered your body. Your head was the apex of the pain, but it quickly radiated in waves down your neck, your spine, seeping into the very fiber of your bones.

For a moment you laid there, head on the pillow, splayed on your back, staring up at the ceiling. The window was open, which was strange because you didn’t remember opening it before bed. In fact, you didn’t remember going to bed at all. Birds chirped in some tree, and you could make out the vague sounds of people shuffling about, enjoying their weekend.

Then there was the rustling of paper bags. Brows furrowing, you propped yourself up on your elbows, trying to restrain the groan threatening to leave your throat at the movement. The door to your room was closed, muffling the sound coming from your kitchen, but it was still distinct nonetheless.

In several slow and painful movements, you slid out of bed where your feet landed on the wooden floor. You were still wearing socks for some reason, which you found odd. In fact, you were still wearing every bit of clothing that you had worn the previous day. They felt heavy with sweat and with every emotion you drowned in.

You turned your attention back towards your bedroom door where you carefully walked to it. The rustling of the paper bags grew louder once you opened it, and you quietly trudged down the hallway until you reached the kitchen.

Simon stood in front of your fridge, bent over slightly as he shoved items into the shelving on the side of the door. Several bags were sprawled out on your counter where some grocery items laid between them like some odd mosaic. It didn’t take long for Simon to realize you were standing in the doorway, and he turned to you for a moment, mask obscuring his face.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked as he went straight back to putting away those groceries.

“Not great but… better than last night,” you admitted.

Your attention turned back to the groceries, confused. You certainly didn’t buy them, as the gods knew you couldn’t afford that much food.

“Did… did you buy these yourself?” you questioned.

Without turning to you, Simon opened up your breadbox where he quickly shoved a loaf of wheat bread inside. “Went to try and make breakfast for you, but when I was going through your pantry I realized there was fuck all for ingredients,” he answered nonchalantly.

A pit formed in your stomach at that realization. He really did go out and buy you food. With his own money. Not only had you made a fool of yourself that previous night, but now he had gone and filled up your pantry for you.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you mumbled as your feet finally carried you fully into the room.

Without wasting time, you started to rummage through the bags, pulling out items and searching for a new home for them. But you didn’t make it very far before Simon hummed and grabbed the item from your hands.

“Nuh uh,” he said softly as he placed the item back down. He then motioned towards a small bag on the edge of the counter. A cute emblem of some sort of pastry was printed on the front of the bag. “Don’t worry about this. I need you to eat.”

Arguing with him was useless, and you knew it, so you did as he asked. You grabbed the bag and moved towards the stove where you leaned against the side of it as you dug into the bag. A still warm strawberry danish laid inside, and you wasted little time biting into it while Simon continued to work.

It felt… oddly domestic. As if the two of you had done this a million times before. But there was some sort of stench in the air. A tension that threatened to drown you, and you knew exactly what was causing it.

Swallowing the bite of pastry you took, you softly prompted the conversation; “I’m sorry about last night.”

Completely unphased by your words, Simon continued to work, having nearly finished finding a place for everything in your once empty cupboards. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

What a lie. There was so much to be sorry about, so much you felt sorry for. Or if not sorry, then at least ashamed about. Even your nights worth of sleep couldn’t get rid of that taste in your mouth.

“Did you go home?” you questioned.

He shook his head. “Camped out on your sofa after putting you to bed. Thought it would be best that you weren’t alone.”

While the image of Simon trying to scrunch himself into a comfortable position on your tiny, two seater sofa would have made you laugh any other day, you found yourself another reason to feel guilty again. His neck probably ached from it, and you knew he couldn’t have gotten decent sleep because of it.

“Why did you stop me?” you then asked.

The last bag of groceries had been put away, and Simon stopped his pacing around the kitchen to lean against the counter on the other side of the room from you. His hands rested flat against the surface of the counter, torso leaning forward some so that his head would hit the cabinet behind his head.

“You were drunk,” he said simply.

He wasn’t wrong, but then again, it never exactly stopped others before him. But he wasn’t like them. Like him. A part of you felt guilty for even expecting something like that from him. No, you hadn’t been expecting it; it’s just what you had gotten used to.

“Don’t… don’t you want to have sex with me?” you then asked softly.

Simon’s expression changed only a little, but it spoke volumes. His eyes softened while the muscles in his arms tensed. He continued to look at you for a moment, the silence enveloping the both of you, before he reached up and pulled his mask off of his face, tossing it onto the counter.

It wasn’t until he started walking up to you that you realized just how tense your body had become, too. The poor pastry in your hands had almost crumbled into dust by the time he stopped in front of you. You had never seen him so serious before. But he wasn’t angry, or upset, just sincere. And maybe a little sad.

“If we ever have sex, it’s not going to be like that,” he said, speaking it as if it was a fact. “Not with you drunk. Not with you looking at me like that.”

A lump formed in your throat, and when you tried to swallow it you almost choked. “Like what?” you pressed, forcing yourself to hear his answer.

“Like you’re terrified.”

God, if you didn’t feel gutted before, you definitely did then, and you couldn’t look at him any longer. In an excuse to look away, you turned slightly and set your half-eaten pastry back in the wax paper it had come out of. Was this the part where you bared yourself? Stripped yourself down so he could count up all the scars? Ripped off your skin just to show him how deep they went?

“I’m sorry.” The words came sputtering out of your mouth like a rusty faucet. Overused. Well known. Repeated too often. “I don’t know what came over me, or why I was trying to… I don’t know…”

Simon shook his head and a hand came up to brush against your arm. Once your eyes met his, he shook his head again as his eyes carefully scanned your face.

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he said while his thumb carefully traced the side of your bicep. “Not to me. Not to anyone.”

How did you end up there? In the kitchen, leaning against the stove, fresh bags of groceries put away by a man who wasn’t mumbling about the annoyance of it? What did you do to find yourself standing so close to the person you loved and not be terrified at the same time? It was new, and it felt nice. So nice, and so scary at the same time.

Your arms made their home around his torso, and Simon was quick to return the gesture. He pulled you into him, trying to take the weight of it all off of you. You breathed in the scent of him and realized he was beginning to smell like home. The place where you ran to when everything else was too loud. You could be petrified in his arms for all of eternity and be perfectly satisfied.

“Thank you,” you choked out.

As he held you in that kitchen, the one with the freshly stocked cupboards, the one that stood just next to the entryway with the freshly patched hole in the wall, you kept replaying his words. They echoed over and over in your head.

If we ever have sex, it’s not going to be like that.

If we ever have sex. If. It was a promise to be different, but not a promise that it would ever happen at all. There was no pressure, no ulterior motives, it just was.

For the first time in your life, you found comfort in the uncertainty of it all.

#fanfiction #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 x you #mw2 x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #mw2 fanfic

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twstgarden · 3 months

Text

✿ ❝ 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗸𝗶𝗱 ❞

━ riddle rosehearts x gifted kid burnout! fem! reader ━ being a gifted child is not always deemed as a blessing, and riddle knows the feeling all too well. (f/n means first name)

requested by: @tangybiskit1 request type: oneshot requester’s message: Reader is like the perfect student.(not prefect) She gets full marks, optimistic, kind and charming to the point where even Riddle thinks his mother would like her. But after befriending her for a few weeks he decides to visit reader and her room is a mess, filled with books, scattered papers. It reminds Riddle of himself and you know how that turned out... So he tries to comfort her saying that she is good enough,(ending can be how you want) sorry if it's badly worded😭😭 this is my first time making a request.. florist’s note: oh wow, this hits close to home <3 anyway, thank you for the request, little one! ♥

this work contains spoilers from chapter 1, heartslabyul's arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

ko-fi here if you want to support me, commission are open

perfect. that was how people described you. a sweet, young lady with a bright smile and a bright mind. a lot of the students in night raven college liked you for your charming personality, and there was barely any student that had a bad experience with you.

perfect. you were the epitome of perfect. a beautiful young lady with a sweet smile, a charming personality, and a bright mind. who would not want to befriend you? some students even talked about you to their peers and their parents. now, it wasn’t always painted in a good light. some have been jealous of you, and some wished you did not exist at all. it makes them look bad, you know?

of course, riddle was one of those people. he greatly admired you for your dedication and hard work, and he takes great pride in having you as a heartslabyul resident. you were the perfect, ideal example of what heartslabyul students should be. you followed all the rules to a t, memorized every one of them, and never questioned or disobeyed the rules that may seem too extreme or ridiculous.

“ah, f/n,” spoke riddle as soon as he saw you in the library, a smile ghosting over his lips. his voice reached your ears as you looked up from your book and smiled at him, “oh… hello, dormitory leader rosehearts!”

that sweet smile.

riddle did not realise his cheeks were tinted pink as he remained smiling at you. he then walked away, not knowing what else to say or how to keep the conversation going. oh, how he wished he could befriend you. he was stuck in this student-to-student relationship with you, and he did not know how to deepen it.

it was going well, at least, that’s what he thought. he made sure he could interact with you at least once a day, to get the both of you used to each other’s presence. he also decided to join you at your table during lunch, eating with you without the need for a conversation. it did not take long until your relationship went deeper than the shallow interactions.

“by the way, riddle… why is your favourite food strawberry tarts?” you asked as you nibbled on a tart that he shared with you. as riddle took a bite of his own, he replied, “it’s sweet and rich with flavours. i rarely ever get to taste it when i was younger, but the one time i did felt like heaven was in my mouth…”

there was a small smile on your face as you listened to riddle. you knew what his household was like. you were there during the overblot incident, after all. “i mean, my mother did get angry at me for eating that… she told me it was too sugary and it’s poisonous for my health…”

unconsciously, your hand went up to his cheek as you caressed it for comfort. riddle also froze as soon as he felt the affection before glancing at you. you realised what you had done and quickly retracted your hand with a blush, “ah— sorry, sorry. i thought you needed some comfort.”

with you around, riddle always felt like he could continue to hold on and move forward. seeing your bright smile energizes him for the day, and seeing your name at the top of the achiever's list always brings a sense of pride from within.

“congratulations, f/n,” spoke riddle as soon as he saw you standing by the bulletin board. you had a blank expression on your face before smiling as soon as you heard his voice, “oh, thanks! congratulations to you, too.”

‘why do you look sad?’, thought riddle to himself as he noticed your blank expression before acknowledging him. were you not happy with what you got? but you received a 499 out of 500, surely, it’s worth a smile or two, no?

he decided to brush it off a little since you had already walked away, but it was in the back of his mind for a few days now. why did you seem bothered? he knew the importance of getting a perfect score, his mother reiterated that several times.

he did not speak much of it, but he did notice you getting a little distant, even if you are physically beside him. your mind seemed to be in another place every time he tried to discuss something with you. it was clear that something was wrong.

but he did not know how to approach the problem.

riddle tried accompanying you during study sessions, gifting you treats, sharing his tarts with you over lunch, doing mind exercises with you, and many other things. however, they only seemed to fix the problem temporarily.

exam season was around the corner once more, and everyone has been busying themselves with studying. riddle had spent his time studying, but of course, he did not neglect his duties as the dormitory head. as soon as the clock struck 3 in the afternoon, it was time for his patrol around the dorm. he had to make sure all his residents were disciplined and studying.

with one room into the next, he discovered all of them busying themselves with reading and discussing certain sections of their books with their roommates. ‘good work,’ thought riddle to himself as he saw his residents studying. he just hoped ace and deuce were doing the same.

as soon as he reached your room, he knocked on the door before twisting the knob and peeking in. he thought he would see you silently seated on your study table, reading through a book, or taking notes. however, he discovered you seated on the floor, a book on your lap as you wrote in your notebook, surrounded by several copies of papers and books.

you were in a clear state of disarray. your hair was a mess as you checked every paper before writing something down in the notebook. the process continued as you mumbled under your breath, “no, this is not right… the answer isn’t hydrolysis…”

a sigh escaped your lips as you buried your head into your palms, your hair covered your devastated expression as riddle silently walked into your room and knelt beside you, picking up all the scattered notes as you sniffled and glanced at him, “riddle…?”

you did not expect to see him in your room, and you quickly wiped your cheeks as you picked up the remaining scattered papers. riddle held the notes he collected and looked at you, seeing your cheeks, eyes, and the tip of your nose being tinted with a little bit of red from all the crying.

you were having a breakdown. he knew that much. he now noticed why you seemed absentminded and distant lately, especially with the exam season coming up. you were drowning yourself in your studies, making sure you memorized and remembered every single fact taught to you.

“…sorry you had to see me like this…” you mumbled as you grabbed the notes from him. he quickly shook his head as he spoke, “no… you don’t have to apologise. how long have you been cooped up in here?”

“i’ve been here all weekend…” you replied. you’ve been in your room, studying for two days straight without paying much attention to your other needs, and it was evident with the bags under your eyes. he hoped you were at least eating, but as he looked around your room, there were a few wrappers from the snacks you ate and an empty water bottle.

a sigh escaped riddle’s lips as he held his hand out to you, “you’re a mess. you need to eat… come.” you shook your head, which caused riddle to raise a brow, “f/n, all you’ve eaten were convenience meals with no proper nutrition whatsoever. don’t be stubborn and—”

“i don’t care!”

riddle fell silent in shock. did you just… yell?

you looked up at him, your eyes held glossy tears as you spoke, “i don’t care even if i starve for days! they’re worth nothing if i fail… this is our finals, and it will determine just how much i’m worth…” a soft sob escaped your lips as you bowed your head to hide your tears, “it will… determine how much my parents love me…”

riddle was silent. so, this is what hides behind the perfect f/n l/n. behind that sweet smile, charming personality, and bright mind was a little girl who never had the chance to be a child, to experience what it’s like to have fun, and to know what it’s like to have no expectations to live up to.

how lonely you must have felt.

“who cares if i’m physically well when i make a single mistake on the test? my mother cursed me through the phone as soon as she saw my results…” you mumbled, venting out everything that had happened the past few days, “i’m nothing but a useless brat who wastes their money in a prestigious school… i don’t deserve to be here if i can’t even get full marks to show that i’m learning something…”

riddle knew what it was like to have a parent who seeks perfection in their child, and it was only lately when he realised it was an unhealthy way of living, drowning yourself in your studies to ensure future success to the point you’d neglect yourself. he got closer to you, holding your shoulder as you wiped your tears, “if i fail the finals, they won’t let me continue my education…”

he was stunned. sure, a punishment is given when one does not receive the desired results on a test. that was his norm, too, but completely discontinuing your education because of 1 mistake or 2 on a test is extreme.

“what…? your parents would go that far…?” questioned riddle. you merely nodded in response as you wiped your tears and hugged your knees to your chest, “…everything feels like a chore…” riddle was left frozen, he did not know what to say or do as he never received appropriate support growing up.

he understands your pains, but he doesn’t know how to comfort you. he can’t lie and say it would be better because he knows that won’t do anything.

you have been showing the brightest smile he’s ever seen all the time, but who knew you were breaking piece by piece? all because of the expectations set on you. all because you were the gifted child of your parents, and therefore, you must live up to be the best of the best.

“sometimes i think… i should just stop… maybe if i fail several times, then they’ll leave me alone… but that also means i won’t receive their love and praises… and i won’t be their favourite daughter anymore…”

riddle stayed silent as he sat on the floor beside you, listening to you vent out all that had been stuck in your mind.

“but… sometimes i also think… if i ruin myself too much and fail… i’m worth nothing… who would love a worthless person? then i’ll be destined to be alone…” you cried softly as you kept hugging your knees to your chest, “i’m tired of thinking about this… i’m tired of caring so much… i’m tired of hearing all the curses that come out of my mother’s mouth… i’m tired of repeatedly being told that i am useless…”

the room then fell silent, and only your soft sobs broke the ice as riddle gently placed his hand on your hair. “…you’re not useless just because you got one or two questions wrong in a test…” mumbled riddle as you peeked at him with your face buried into your arms, “and… you’re not worthless. you don’t need to be perfect to be loved… you just need to be yourself.”

as you remained to look at him, you sniffled softly and wiped your tears, “…but…” riddle gave you a small smile, “i know what it feels like to know that everything we learned growing up and the things we are exposed to is wrong… you’ve been told that anything less than perfect is unacceptable, and i was taught the same thing…”

a soft sigh left his lips as he placed a hand on your cheek, the same way you did to him when he spoke of his reason for loving a sweet treat, “you were there when the incident happened, and i have learned my mistakes… now i am here to tell you that you are worth it. you’re not a financial burden, you’re not useless, you’re not stupid, you are none of that, f/n. i wish you could see yourself the way i see you… then you’ll understand why i always want to be around you…”

you were speechless. what could you possibly say in response to that? if you didn’t know any better, it felt like a confession disguised as comforting words. receiving no verbal response, riddle got a little embarrassed as he avoided your gaze, “… i said too much. i apologise—”

“no…”

riddle blinked before he glanced back at you, seeing you smile a little at him, “…i appreciate your words… thank you…” seeing that sweet smile, even if it was a small one, made riddle smile as well, “you don’t need to thank me… now, you need to have your lunch.” he stood up and held his hand out to you.

you held his hand and stood up, smiling at him as you were about to wipe any remaining tearstains on your face when his hand gently rested on your cheek, wiping it as he spoke, “i don’t want to see you neglecting yourself next time.”

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forever-rogue · 1 year

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Hi bee, how are you? hope you're having a great week ❤

I was thinking about a Joel fic, they're in Jackson and reader lives in the house next to Joel's, they become friends and are feelings in between but they're to stubborn to confess.

Ellie is kinda dude just tell her and finally he does it with some dinner in his house or something like that.

Thank you, your fics are amazing 🥰

AN | I love this so much! Joel being soft for his girl has me so <3

Combined with this prompt | Can I please request something with Joel where he’s like cold in front of others but he’s so soft with his girl. And Ellie absolutely teases him for it.

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Mentions of Sexual Situations

Word Count | 2.9k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You're soft, you know," Joel stiffened at the sound of Ellie's comment. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, but decided not to indulge her. Not yet anyway, "for her."

"Ellie," his voice was careful, collected. So much for being any sort of subtle.

"I'm just saying," she holds up her hands innocently, playing as best as she could into her innocent child role, "and everybody knows."

“Nobody knows anything,” he insisted with a gentle, playful little tap to the side of her cheek, “y’all are always so nosey with everyone else’s business, makes me wonder what any of you ever get done.”

“Hey, I’m a kid, I’m not supposed to do anything,” she stuck her tongue but Joel’s hands settled on his hips as he gave her that look, “fine, I do some things.”

“Some things,” he twanged back at her, “like your chores, right? Which you should be doing right now, not harassing me, so get going.”

“You’re so stubborn,” she groaned, throwing her arms up in the arm, “and blind! Dude, just tell her!”

“Ain’t nothing to tell!” he called after her as she threw up her middle finger. If she would have looked back she would have seen the wicked, rosy blush that was covering his cheeks. His face felt warm enough to fry an egg on.

He wondered if people were really that perceptive or if just she was. He hated the idea that he was being so obvious. It wasn’t that he wasn’t into you, oh no. Joel Miller was into you; the whole picturing a future together, picturing you in his bed when he was alone at night, growing old(er) with you, type of into you.

He just had no clue if you felt the same. Even remotely so. And he wasn’t about to make a fuckin’ fool out of myself by making a move and potentially being wrong. The thing he hated most of all was the idea of a life without you. He’d rather keep you as a friend than lose you altogether.

Joel huffed at him, feeling pathetic with how lovesick he sounded. He wasn’t some sort of teenage boy, he was a grown ass man.

“Hey cowboy,” okay. He was a pathetic lovesick grown ass man, “whatcha up to?”

“Nothing,” fucking hell. Joel’s voice pitched up about three octaves as he glanced over at you, standing in the backyard like a vision. He never knew he loved sundresses so much; not until the weather grew warm and you started wearing them. You and those pretty little dresses were going to be the death of him, “just working on a few things around the house.”

“Hmm,” you mused as you walked over, ghosting your fingers along the flowers that had started growing, “need a hand? I’m done with the things I needed to do today. The rest are a problem for future me.”

“I like your thinking,” he agreed, setting down the hammer he’d absentmindedly picked up to look like he was doing something, “let’s call it a day.”

“Want to head to the river?” Your suggestion was followed by a sugary sweet smile that made him want to take you in his arms and kiss you, “we can bring some lunch and have a little picnic.”

He wanted to have a little more than lunch. But that was a conversation for a different day.

“Sure,” he agreed, a vain attempt at nonchalance, but if you noticed, you didn’t give it away, “let me just get out of these dirty clothes first.”

“Need a hand with that?” you teased, feeling emboldened for whatever reason. The surprised look on his face as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water was worth it, “I’m just teasing, Joel. No need to look so panicked. You change and I’ll get some lunch together. Do you think Ellie would like to come?”

“No!” he insisted quickly before realizing his gaff. You raised an eyebrow but remained silent, “she’s busy with her chores this afternoon. Kid’s gotta earn her keep, you know?”

“Mhmm,” you reached over and put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, “well, just meet me at mine when you’re done. Door will be unlocked as always.”

Joel watched wordlessly as you flounced away, skirt swishing and hips swaying. He was pretty sure he was almost drooling, but caught himself before anyone around seemed to notice. You were trouble; you were absolutely going to cause him to lose it.

And god, he was so here for it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You looked nervously around the kitchen, trying to figure out what you could throw together for a little picnic. You hadn’t really thought this far ahead - you hadn’t really expected him to say yes. Not that Joel had ever said no to you but still…one never knew. Maybe the dress was helping; you’d worn it purposely after all. Men practically became putty when they saw a woman in a sundress.

“Fuck,” you sighed to yourself, already mentally prepping the food as you grabbed the picnic basket out of the cupboard. You sang to yourself, “don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck this upppppp.”

You kept singing that mantra to yourself as you bounced around the kitchen and managed to whip up a lunch that wasn’t too shabby at all. By the time Joel made his way over to yours, you were flushed and breathless. His handsome face and lovely smile were almost too much for you. You felt like a victorian maiden in the presence of a man alone for the time.

Yikes. You really needed to get laid. Preferably by Joel, but that was a worry for another day.

“What’s got you smilin’ like that?” you could have sworn there was a knowing little smile on his face.

“Nothing,”you. You weren’t about to just freely admit that yet, “just excited to get to spend some time in the sunshine with my best guy.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take his reaction, be it good or bad.

“Come on,” he reached for the basket before you could even think about reaching for it, “let’s get going then, sweetheart.”

You warmed up under his saccharine gaze but let him take the basket nonetheless and followed after him.

As the two of you walked towards the lake, on the outskirts of the ever expanding Jackson, a few people here and there stopped to say hello and, you know, do the whole chit-chat thing. You loved talking to people and totally soaked it up…meanwhile Joel was a totally different story. He didn’t dislike people, not unless they gave him a reason to, but he wasn’t a big talker or mingler.

You wouldn’t say he was cold to others (Ellie totally would), but he was absolutely soft for you. Even if you didn’t know it, you had that man wrapped around your finger.

While he vehemently tried to avoid being stopped by anyone else, you looped your arm through his…and almost killed him in the process. You smelled sweet, not cloying so, but just right and your skin was dangerously soft. He should have gotten an award or something for how much self control he managed to exercise around you.

Meanwhile, you were oblivious to the internal struggle he was currently experiencing, instead talking his ear off about something Gemma had said to Ben but then did with Kerrie. He wasn’t sure, he was only half listening, way too distracted by you.

When you got to the lake, you slipped your hand into the basket and pulled out the soft blanket that you’d had enough forethrough to bring. You tossed it under the shade from one of the trees so neither of you would get too hot from the direct sunlight. You sat down and patted the space next to you, watching as he set the basket down, his brows knitted together in what appeared to be deep thought.

It wasn’t all that deep; he was trying not to stare at your breasts or how good they looked in that dress, or how your legs looked particularly enticing. If you were to sum it all up, he was basically trying not to be a pubescent boy and pop a boner at the sight of you.

Grown man he repeated to himself, you are a grown man.

“I don’t bite,” was it on purpose? Maybe, maybe not. But you liked the look of pure panic that his face morphed into, “unless you want me to.”

“Sweetheart-”

“C’mon,” you cut him off, enjoying this a little too much, “pull out some sandwiches because I’m starving!”

So was he. Just not for food. Well - you and food if he was being honest.

When he froze, you reached over him and pulled out the freshly cut fruit and sandwiches for each of you, handing it to him with an air of innocence. He gratefully accepted your offering, stuffing his face full before he could make too much of a fool of himself.

And from there, as always, the two of you feel into easy conversation, about life, this, that, and everything in between. You liked that about him - things were always so easy, so right with Joel. In the time since he and Ellie had arrived in Jackson the winter before, Joel Miller had easily become your best friend…and all around favorite person.

You wanted to tell him, really, but you were terrified of messing things up and losing him. It wasn’t worth the risk. Not yet anyway…and maybe never but yeah. Joel was it for you in so many ways.

"Berries," his smile lit up his entire face, effectively pulling you out of your little fantasy. You nodded as you watched him grab a ripe strawberry and pop into his mouth, "my favorites!"

"I know," ugh. How was this man adorable and dorky on top of everything else? It was unfair, "you told me."

"When? Like once in passing," he raised his eyebrows as you tried to play it off, "you remembered?"

"I remember a lot of things," you whispered, "especially about the people that mean most to me."

Joel was stunned, unable to think of the words to properly convey what he was feeling. He opted for a nod as he leaned against the tree, casting him in a golden, sunny light.

You grabbed a few berries from the bowl and gave him a wink before lying down on the back, staring at the fluffy white clouds.

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence as you ate the lunch you had packed, growing full and warm.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After a while, you came up with a brilliant plan. You sat up and looked around to make sure no one was nearby before standing back up.

"Swim with me," you said suddenly as you grinned at Joel. He remained silent as you started to push up your dress, brown eyes wide and his throat feeling thick. You shucked the dress off and tossed it by him, "Joel?"

"O-okay," he was trying not to lose his control as you stood there in front of him, only a bra and panties. You were so carefree, uninhibited, and wild that it was infectious. You tied up your hair before walking over to the water and motioned for him to hurry up, "are you sure you want to-"

You jumped into the water before he could say anything else, remaining below the water for a few moments to let your body adjust the temperature difference. When your lungs started to burn, you floated back up and broke through the surface. Joel was standing at the edge of the lake, hands on his lips as he watched, a lazy little smile on his face.

“Water’s perfect,” you drew back your hand and splashed them gently, “come on in!”

You could see his hesitation and shook your head. You swam to the edge and held out your hand to him. He was weighing something in his mind, mulling over his decision before he eventually tugged off his boots and pants, kicked them to the side. It was a moment until he gathered up the courage to pull off his shirt - silly, he would say but you would argue otherwise - but he tossed into the pile of your clothing.

“Handsome,” you cooed softly as his shoulders relaxed. And he was, you weren’t just trying to make him feel better. You could see the scars and marks littering his body along with the freckles you already planned on connected with your lips, and the muscle under the softness. You loved him - all of him, “alright?”

“Alright,” he agreed before sitting down and dangling his legs in and eventually slipping all the way into the water. You could tell he was up to something but your musing was quickly put to an end when you felt his hands on your hips, causing you to shriek in surprise. You heard him laughing as you pouted at him, “what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“You are a menace,” you turned around so you were facing him, settling your hands on his shoulders, “you, Joel Miller, are trouble.”

“Yeah?” he was practically vibrating under your touch as you tried to give him a somewhat serious expression. It fell flat, more of a sweet, innocent look, which made his heart even softer than he thought possible, “what about you then? What does that make you?”

“Sweet and innocent,” you grinned softly, “I’m a good girl.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Were you trying to kill him?

“Oh sweetheart,” he tried to keep it from sounding too much like a groan, “you are something else.”

You hummed in content as you closed your eyes and tilted your head towards the sun. You couldn’t have imagined a better day - but there was still one more thing you wanted to know that could make the day even better than anything else, “So, I was talking to Ellie…and she told me something interesting.”

“Ellie says a lot of things.” oh no. His heart was racing so quickly that he was afraid that he was going to pass out, “mostly nonsense.”

“I’m not so sure on that one,” you snorted in amusement, “do you wanna know what she told me?”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me regardless of what I say…”

“Of course,” you reached over and stroked his cheek, watching as a boyish grin grew on his face, “she told me that you like me. You know, like me like me.”

“And she said it just like that?” he asked, trying to his cool as you tried to read his expression.

“She did actually,” you stuck your tongue out at him, “are you gonna tell me if its true or not? Or are ya gonna leave me guessing?”

“Do you really need me to tell you or do you already know the answer?” he was deflecting, trying to make sure he hadn’t read anything wrong.

“I’m pretty sure that you’re hopelessly and madly in love with me,” you were teasing - but only just. You both knew that much, “but a little bit of reassurance doesn’t hurt either.”

“I am,” he confirmed after a few moments of tranquil quietness passed between the two of you. Inside you were practically screaming and bursting with joy. When you didn’t didn’t say anything, he grew worried, “is that…are you…okay? You’re makin’ me nervous sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gave him the most dazzling smile. You paused for a moment before quietly exhaling, “oh! I’m in love with you too. If that wasn’t obvious….I thought it was, but I figured you’d want to hear it too.”

“I did,” he relaxed; every fiber of his being was humming with positive energy. Holy shit. You loved him. You were in love with him, “were you ever going to say anything?”

“Eventually,” you confessed, “but I kind of liked watching you squirm too. You look real cute when you blush, you know.”

“I do not,” he huffed indignantly, “I do not blush.”

“Whatever you say, love,” oh. He liked that sound of that, “are you going to kiss me or?”

“Do you want me to?” his eyes widened, “you want me to kiss you?”

“Very much so,” you agreed, “I would love it if you kissed me…finally.”

“Finally?” he asked, wondering if you’d wanted this for as long and as much as he had. The look on your face said it all.

“Finally.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo

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makethatelevenrings · 11 days

Text

Maybe // S. Riley x f!reader

me: I have a cold, I need to study, and I have work in a few hours but I have this tiny thought that won't escape me

me: I should abandon everything I'm working on and write it out? so true bestie

this could be considered a part of this simon x 141!reader universe I've made but idk, I am thinking of a name for their universe. Maybe sadwetcatverse because they're both pathetic. Maybe next part I'll let them fucknasty, who knows. Certainly not me!

warnings: mention of kids/wanting kids, reader and Simon are both masochist losers who can't imagine themselves being happy or living past 40

The thought doesn’t crop up as often as he imagined. In fact, the first time it crossed his mind was on a mission. They’re in southern Italy, tracking a rogue operative who is working with a local mafia to transport fentanyl-laced drugs into England. They’re not spies, Ghosts remembers saying. No, you’re right, Price retorted. But they’re armed like they’re an army.

The sun is high in the sky and painting your skin deliciously. He has to tear his gaze away from you to focus on the task at hand: analyzing the landscape and seeing where they could set up recon. His shoulders tense as he hears footsteps rapidly approach from behind, but when he turns, he sees a young boy gazing up at you in nothing short but adoration. You crouch down to his level and greet him in Italian, a wide smile on your lips as he extends a bundle of flowers in your direction and babbles out something that has you chuckling and nodding. The boy suddenly turns shy after his bold move and your smile brightens. You thank him for the flowers and he beams before running back to where his family is standing. You wave at the parents and call out a thanks and they laugh in response, ruffling the hair of the child and teasing him.

"What was that about?" he finally asks. You hold the flowers loosely in one hand and use the other to point out a possible place to set up a sniper to watch for their target.

"He said his dad taught him that pretty ladies deserve flowers," you hummed. "It was cute, really."

A wistful look appears in your eyes and he considers, just for a moment, what it might be like to see you with a sleeping babe in your strong arms. A tiny lil thing with a shock of blond hair and eyes the same color as yours. A child with soft skin untouched by the scars you both wore on your bodies and souls. He could picture it so clearly now, the way you would carry his child like the most precious thing in the world, almost akin to how you were carrying the flowers. His chest burns with want, but his face, masked of course, betrays none of the feelings he's experiencing.

That night, when you're both back in the safehouse with the rest of the team, he finds himself sitting up with Price and going over schematics on how to set up this mission. He glances over to where you're on the only bed curled up next to Gaz, fast asleep. The two of you got on like a fire on a house, which made for a great partnership out on the field. Ghost didn't resent him. No, not at all. But he had made it clear to Garrick that if anything happened to you on his watch, Ghost would rearrange his ribs one by one.

And for a moment he lets his guard down and he lets himself picture the way you would fall asleep on the couch with your child pressed against your heart. Your body would shield them from the cruel world you two were intimately familiar with and he would place himself between both of you and anything that threatened you. It was a fool's dream, he knew this, but it was something he had never considered before. Price lets his eyes drift from the map and over to his two sleeping kids, Soap was sprawled out on the floor with his mouth slack and snoring like a chainsaw, and back to his lieutenant.

"Ever consider retiring?" he asks. They never spoke about the relationship between his two lieutenants. He just merely filed away the paperwork that Simon handed him that listed you as his primary contact. He silently approved their file updates with their new shared address. They never let it affect them on the field, save for the few times that you two had gotten a little overzealous in your revenge when the other was hurt or captured. In fact, Price couldn't name a time he saw the two of you interact outside of a professional capacity.

But he can see the look in Simon's eyes. For a man so guarded and cold, Price knew Simon well enough to read what he was thinking.

"Never gave it much thought," Ghost finally answers. "Figured I'll quit once they put me in that casket."

Price sighs. Fucking masochist. Always thinks he deserves life's worst. "And what if that never comes?"

Simon thinks for a moment. Breathes in and out. Considers the way all the lines of stress and tension in your face and body melts away as you sleep. Thinks about how you feed the stray cats around the townhome the two of you share. Remembers how you looked earlier that day with a bright smile highlighted by the sun, eyes sparkling and fingers curled around the stem of the flowers that now rested on the nightstand next to you.

"Wouldn't be fair to her. Taking care of me," he finally answers. Price gives up for the night and just tells him to get some sleep before they move into position tomorrow. Simon settles himself onto the floor on the other side of you, placing himself between you and the door. You were firmly sandwiched between two men who would die and kill for you. He could rest easy, as easy as someone like him could.

And what he doesn't realize is when you first took hold of those flowers, you pictured that little boy with honey brown eyes like his daddy and hair just like yours and a gap-toothed grin as he laughed at one of his dad's stupid jokes. You had never considered that life for you before. Your life was filled with uncertainty and danger. Men and women had come into your bed and left just as easily. Simon was the first person you let settle in close and he was now forever a part of you. The only thing that would take him from you was death himself and you refused to let that be the case. Not if you had a say in it.

You couldn't be a mother. No. Not when you were in such a dangerous job. Even when Gaz teased you about the way you seemed to mother hen him on missions and you retorted it's because he would accidentally blow himself up if you weren't watching over him. Your hands were stained red. So you would let that thought remain a thought. A wish. A hopeless dream, never to be realized. You truly expected to come home covered in a flag and that would be it.

Maybe in another life. Maybe in a safer world. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley fic #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #cod imagine #cod x reader

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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unreliablesnake · 1 year

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‌Hi! Could you write s/o had a abortion (not because health, just didn't want or didn't feel ready) with ghost? Like ghost find a positive pregnancy test and next days he's expected for s/o to tell him but it didnt happen so he decided start to conservation. Like "i find the test so if it's not something else ik you're pregnant and it's okay""i was" feel free to change or ignore.

(I'm just looking for abortion fics and it's so hard to find🤕)(sorry for my english i hope i made it understandable)have a nice day<3

Note: It took me to long to write this.

•••••••

It all happened by accident. Ghost wasn't going through your things, he was just looking for something in a bathroom closet and found a positive pregnancy test hidden in the back.

He wondered how long it had been there, how long you've been hiding this from him. Because you hadn't said a word, didn't even give him a hint. You kept it to yourself, keeping silent about a matter this big.

With a sigh he sat on the edge of the bathtub and thought about what to tell you. Should he let you know that he knew? Or should he wait and see if you would ever tell him? It was a tough decision to make because he didn't want to scare you.

Ghost came to the conclusion that it would be best to wait until you felt like telling him. He put the test back where he found it, making sure nothing would be out of place.

You remained silent. He waited for over a week, but you didn't say anything. You looked sad, but that was all he noticed. One day he had enough and decided to confront you, so he went into the bathroom to get the test.

With a groan he put the test on the coffee table in front of you when he returned to the living room. "I found this the other day. Unless I'm wrong and it's something completely different, I know you're pregnant." You looked down at the floor, clearly avoiding his gaze. "Hey, it's okay. And I'm not mad."

"I was," you told him after a long pause. Ghost let out a questioning hum, forcing you to go on. "I'm not pregnant anymore."

Oh, fuck. "Did you have a miscarriage?" he asked quietly.

You shook your head at first. "I had an abortion."

"A what? Without my knowledge?" He was mad, although not because he wasn't involved in making this decision. No, it was your body, you would have to carry this child for nine months, he wasn't one to have a say in that. Still… "Fucking hell, you should've told me before."

"I'm not ready to be a parent," you replied.

This made him think. "In general or with me?"

"Simon, please. It has nothing to do with you. I'm just not ready to have a kid running around. It's a commitment for a lifetime, not something that would pass in a few months."

"You still should have told me," Ghost told you softly as he sat down next to you and put his hand on your shoulder. "I should have been by your side!"

You glanced over at him shyly, as if you couldn't believe your ears. "So you're not mad that I made this decision without you?" you asked in the end.

"Of course not. I just don't understand why you wanted to do this alone."

"I didn't know how you would react."

"Is that how much you trust me? You should know me better than that. C'mere, baby." He sneaked his arm around your body and pulled you against him, his free hand resting on the back of your head. "It's gonna be okay. We can still have a kid when you're ready."

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 #modern warfare ii #modern warfare #ghost #ghost x reader

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wutheringcaterpillar · 4 months

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Time Was Never On Our Side

Summary: Decades after the heartbreaking split between you and Cillian, you see one another out and about. After realizing he’s married now, guilt follows you up to his hotel room where words are said, and a kiss is shared. Warnings: Morally grounded reader, an unfaithful kiss, sad ending but the right ending

sidenote: This fic is in favor of his wife toward the end, there will be no smut just heartbreak following from a kiss. heavily inspired by Cut The Shit-Delusion, Sweetheart by @cillianmesoftlyyy

The everlonging gaze of a man with crystal blue eyes, and an ash gray hair color that you knew all too well, stopped you in your tracks, the two of you stared at one another in disbelief. It felt as if you were looking at a ghost

It had been so long, since you’d both graduated high school that was the last time you saw one another.

Cillian was your first love, and it always seemed to be right person, wrong time, but maybe that had changed. “Y/N? What er you doing here?” Nostalgia flooded back, like a river overfilling a valley, leaving you nearly sppechless. He still looked great, very handsome in his suit and tie, with his shimmering, almost transparent blue eyes.

“Cillian? I- I just finished with work, was going to grab a bite to eat then head home.” He shook his head, insisting that you allow him to court you to dinner to which you obliged. The ring around his finger not going unnoticed, but you attempted to convince yourself this was just a catching up between to friends, nothing more.

He watched you intently as you skimmed the dinner menu, glancing at the untouched glass of pinot grigio. You always did have class, and could hold your own.

After small talk and eating as much as knew he shouldn’t, he had a proposal.

“Come to my room. Just fer a chat, it’s a bit more private.” Glancing down at his ring, a ping of guilt washed over you, knowing that his wife was more than likely unaware to know whom he was having dinner with as of this moment, but a part of you wanted to hear what he had to say.

His eyes searched your facial expression for an answer, and he could tell you were nervous about this meeting by the way you twiddled your thumbs.

Reaching his hand over, he placed it gently on top of yours, his fingers caressing your delicate skin.

“I promise, just a drink nothing more.” Nodding, you disregarded the presence of morals in your mind. After paying the tab, and walking you to his room, he removed your jacket, placing on the chair near the kitchen table.

His laptop had been left open and a photo of him, his wife and child, enjoying what looked like to be a summer vacation on the beach was displayed on the screen, making you unbearably uncomfortable.

Noticing, he closed the laptop, insisting you take a seat on the sofa, asking if you needed anything to drink and what not.

After politely declining, he sat near you at an arm’s length away, his vibrant yet subtle cologne that smelt of ivory and pine filling your senses. Cillian had always smelt wonderful and was a very clean-sly man, you couldn’t deny in the three years you were together, it was a relief having a man that could hold his own and you didn’t have to clean up after him.

“So, how’ve you been? What’s been going on yer life? I’d love to know.”

“I graduated, received my diploma in the arts, and now I’m a full time journalist for the times, the stories you run across are unbelievable sometimes.” His lips spread into a wide smile before his hand settled on your knee, rubbing the fabric of your thin leggings gracefully, his touch sending chills up your spine.

“That’s wonderful Y/N. I always knew you had it in you! Any man in yer life? Kids?” He cleared his throat, his voice slightly cracking, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he was terrified for your answer.

“Cillian, I don’t think we should discuss this. After all that was one of the reasons we never made it. You wanted kids. I didn’t. You wanted to act and travel, I wanted to settle with the environment and area I’m familiar with. We were always with one another for the right reasons, but we never saw eye to eye with our future together.” As much as it broke you inside to say those words, they needed to be released, thrown into the air to really sink in. You weren’t trying to hurt him, and you didn’t feel like he was trying to hurt you, it just always seemed to be right person, wrong time.

Biting his lip, his eyes sulking toward the ground, the memories of your very first date entered his mind. The way you dressed in a red plaid shirt with blue jeans, how you had your hair straightened and beat him in an arcade game, ending the night with him driving you home, insisting on waiting to kiss you at least until the second date as he didn’t want to rush or pressure you.

The first kiss when you were laying on a plush blanket, your eyes beaming up into the sky watching the fireworks explode into their bursts of vibrant colors before your eyes locked, and he leaned in.

The moment you had moved into your first apartment together, almost in amazement at how organized and smoothly you unpacked boxes with your hair tied in a messy bun. Even when you were sweating, your aura radiated an unexplainable, beautiful energy like no other woman could.

He was completely and devastatingly still in love with you and all your little ticks.

After a moment of silence, you were staring down at your palms, fiddling with the fabric of your sweater. Cillian skimmed his hand through the strands of your hair, placing it behind your ear gently, causing your cheeks to become a rosy shade of red. Everything in you wished that the past was different, that your relationship had made it but timing never seemed to be on either of your sides.

Your lips parted, taking a much needed breath when you felt his body scoot closer. His longing blue eyes fixated on your enticing lips, scanning your eyes, finding that maybe he wasnt the only one with this immense urge.

His thumb brushed under your chin, turning your head slightly toward him. Leaning in his lips collided with yours in a nostalgic, tender kiss, adrenaline and dopamine coursing through his veins as moments of your past continued to flash through his mind like a romantic motion-picture.

All he could remember was the way he made you laugh, the way your smile outshined the sun, how your eyes lit up whenever you were near him.

Shame flooded over you, selfish was the first word that came to your mind. Your eyebrows rising in shock when your lips connected in a gentle, loving kiss, yet he still felt so far away. The heat in your chest was undeniably present, butterflies forming in your stomach but that didn’t stop the strain of your emotions running wildly. You knew if you didn’t break away from his touch, this would lead further, the night ending in his bed and you waking up in the morning with the reminder he was a married man, and you’d been his mistress.

Pulling away, your hands settled in his arms, lips pursing together in sadness, and regret. You couldn’t stop the tears that were at the brim of your eyelids from flowing freely down your cheeks.

“What? Is everything alright?” His voice was low but he spoke with sincerity and concern.

Glancing down at his ring, his eyes followed yours.

“Cillian. You’re married now, with a son. I cant do this to your wife, I won’t let you do this to her. I need to go.” Standing up and patting down your dress, Cillian stood up just as fast, worried he had gone too far, too quick.

“Please, I’m sorry. I- I don’t know what came over me. I’m a fecking idiot but I still love you.” Your throat began to tighten, in irritation and anxiety.

“Don’t! Don’t do that. This hurts me as much as it does you but I will not participate in you throwing away your marriage. Do you love her?” Gulping, Cillian released your wrist, his hands brushing through his hair as he too felt his eyes begin to water, an immense feeling of regret, and heartbreak, shattering his chest.

“I- I do but I’m not over you Y/N. I don’t think I ever will be, even after all these years.” Sighing and brushing away the tears, your hands settled on his dampened cheeks, forcing your aching eyes to lock together.

“And that is okay. I still love you too, but I respect your wife. We were never going to work Cillian. That is alright to still have lingering feelings, they may never go away, but I need to go away. Not just for myself, but for you.” His hands gripped on your wrists, his throat tightening while his heart dropped into the bottomless pit of his stomach.

“I know. Love, I know. I’d love if we had made it and I need to let you go, no matter how much it pains me. Just know, you deserve better, and there is a man out there waiting for your love. I just hope he is deserving of it, and won’t take your love fer granted the way I did tonight.” You nodded painfully, thanking him before picking up your purse, heading for the door, only this time he didn’t stop you.

Turning the knob, you glanced back at Cillian once more. “Please have the decency to tell your wife and inform her I mean her no harm. I only wish the best and I will not be in contact with you. If she’d like to call me I left my number on the table. Goodbye Cillian.” Closing the door, it felt like the love-story had painstakingly come to an end, the way it needed to be.

Cillian stayed awake, your words sinking in before he face-timed his wife, being completely truthful and transparent with her, doing as you asked, giving her your number if she felt the need to call with any questions or wanted to speak any words with you.

#Cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy imagine #ranaewrites

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

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i don't much know tmc so i hope this makes sense, but 65 for adam and jonah and friendly alternate reader? maybe it goes the way you laid out in your original post, where the events of volume 2 make them distrust reader briefly and the fic is set in the aftermath?

Good idea! Also this is slightly different from how I wrote those hcs, but the general idea is still there!

65) "I didn't mean it...please forgive me."

.......

While waiting for your human friends to finish their investigation inside the house, you remained in the van that you all arrived in, trying your best to remain patient.

You would have much rather accompanied them, knowing of the dangers present....however the fragile trust you've formed with the two was close to shattering.

Preacher arrived without any warning on the second night, and you caught her whispering things to Adam while he was trying to get some sleep. Jonah was wide awake and had the misfortune of seeing her face-to-face before he hid somewhere, allowing you to confront her.

Although you succeeded in driving her off by pretending that they were your victims to claim, he wildly misinterpreted your actions and believed you summoned her here to kill them both. He didn't believe your ruse for a second, as he freaked out on you and demanded you to get out.

In fear of triggering a panic attack in the already frightened boy, you just quietly left, but stayed inside the van to ensure that no other Alternates could interfere with the radio signal or hijack it.

Yet as the minutes dragged on, you grew more and more worried about their well being.

Preacher easily believed your lie--considering Alternates were master manipulators--so she won't be coming back anytime soon...but you didn't like the thought of leaving those two all by themselves.

Sometime later you saw the front door open, and you teleported out of the van, finding Jonah standing there. He appeared unharmed, much to your relief.

However that's when you noticed only he emerged from the house..Adam was nowhere in sight.

"Jonah, are you alright? Where's Adam?"

"Th-The basement door opened..and he wanted to check it out. I-I told him not to, but he wouldn't listen!" He panicked, before he suddenly fell silent as his expression turned to a hateful scowl--aimed at you. "I bet you opened it, didn't you? Or was it your freaky lady friend?"

"That was neither my doing nor hers. And she's not my "lady friend"." You huffed, wishing he'd stop accusing you. "Why did you leave him all alone in there? It's too dangerous."

"He doesn't know the first thing about "danger". You don't think I've been trying to tell him these ghost hunts are gonna get us killed one day?! It's like he doesn't even hear me! We both know his mom is dead and he's looking for something that's not actually there..but god forbid I ever tell him that. I'm just sick of him getting pissed off at me for wanting to fucking live."

"I understand your frustration, but..leaving him behind is not the solution here." You tried to reason with him. "To my knowledge that's not how friends should treat each other, even if they-"

"I'm not sure if I even see him as my "friend" anymore." He scoffed, hugging himself as the air grew chillier. "He literally screamed at me to leave, [y/n]. So that's what I'm doing. I don't give a shit about him or the fame or the money anymore. I'm done. I'm going back home. Alone."

Hoping to put this conversation to rest, Jonah stormed past you and hopped into the driver's seat, trying to start the engine...but it wasn't turning on at all.

He tried hotwiring it as well--to no avail.

"Shit, [y/n]..are you doing this?" He glanced at you, annoyed. "Are you screwing with the transmission?"

"........."

"C'mon, I'm not in the mood for-"

"We cannot leave him behind, child." You insisted. As much as you hated to anger your friend, this was the only way he'll listen. "Is this truly how you wish to end things between you two?"

"I'm not a child, I'm a grown ass man. And I've made my choice, and he made his."

"It doesn't have to be that way. I can still help you both-"

"If you're so insistent on "helping" me, you'll let me start this goddamn car and stay out of my life!!" Jonah slammed his hands on the steering wheel, but unfortunately for him, you weren't about to give into his childish tantrum.

"The only way I can help you is by NOT letting you leave." You shook your head, trying to stay calm and logical. "There is no running away anymore, Jonah. If the others realize you are all by yourself...they will come for you, including him."

"...wait, how do you know he'll show up?" He blinked.

"Because...I've known him since our creation. I'm aware of his patterns. Your government calls him Intruder, children call him Stanley....we call him Six. His connection with technology knows no boundaries, including radios and GPS, so it's imperative that I'm here to stop him from- "

"Oh, so you've been bffs with that child kidnapper since the dawn of time...and you're telling me he could've been fucking eavesdropping on all our conversations regarding BPS?!!"

"I.." For a moment you tensed up, realizing you may have said too much. "No, Jonah. That's not what-"

"Damn, I wish I knew all of that before we decided to trust you." Tears welled up in his eyes again, threatening to spill over. "Adam never should've let you come along. I told him he was making a huge mistake letting you out of that TV..and guess who was right?!!"

Your nonexistent heart sunk slightly at his words.

"Jonah, please calm down. You're not thinking-"

You tried setting a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he violently smacked it away before your claws could even graze his jacket.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!! You're all the same....you're a bunch of heartless, lying, demonic bastards who destroyed our lives and made our loved ones kill themselves!!" He choked out. "You've taken everything from us...a-and if it weren't for you....THEN MAYBE ADAM WOULD STILL BE ALIVE RIGHT NOW!!"

You physically flinched at his screaming, having never seen a human look so enraged...yet sorrowful at the same time. The emotions emanating from him were quite powerful, and when he stopped to take several deep breaths, you needed a moment to absorb them all.

But seeing as you didn't immediately leave, Jonah felt his resolve completely crumble as he gritted his teeth together, trying to stop his sobs from escaping..only for them to come out as small hiccups and gasps.

"J-Just stop pretending to care, alright? Go and...a-and leave me be." Tears streaked down his face as he clutched the steering wheel with trembling hands, laying his head on it as he tried muffling his sobs.

He felt like he just gave himself M.A.D with how badly he felt like dying right now.

Although you were initially stunned by his emotions going from one extreme to the other so quickly, you snapped out your shock and frowned slightly at his distraught state.

'He's so young...and has gone through far too much...'

You gently reached over to set your hand on his back, feeling his entire body trembling beneath your fingertips. Surprisingly enough, he didn't shove your comfort away this time as he was too busy scrubbing away his tears.

You understood that he didn't actually mean those hurtful things. He just needed to lash out after all the stress of these past few nights, and you so happened to be the closest person--whose species is the very cause of his anxieties.

"[Y/n]..I-I..I know you're not like the others. It's just...I'm so lost and I'm so fucking scared to lose one more friend...!" His voice cracked. "I-I don't wanna lose him.."

"I know, my little fish.." You soothed. "I know your heart and mind are deeply troubled. I know you're very afraid...but rest assure, I will not let anything bad happen to either of you. Whatever you think of my kind is fine, but please understand that I would never pretend to care for your safety. It is...my purpose to protect you both from their evil ways."

"..a-according to who?"

"Me. Not my "Savior" or anybody else." Taking your hand off his back, you stepped away as he finally looked up at you. His eyes were wet and tinted red from crying so hard, but through blurred vision he could see you offering your hand. "Come, let us seek out Adam. I sense he is still alive."

With a small nod, Jonah grasped your hand so you could help him out of the van, though as soon as you let him go....he hugged you unexpectedly.

You blinked, looking down at him in confusion. "Jonah? Is everything okay?"

"Y-Yeah, I...I'm just sorry about what I said to you." He sniffled quietly, his forehead pressed to your chest. "I didn't mean it..please forgive me. You know how I tend to say stupid shit when I'm scared and-"

"You needn't justify yourself, my friend. I absolve you." You smiled as you patted his head. "I have gotten worse insults in my lifetime, so they don't affect me as much."

"Good to know. Also...why did you call me "little fish"? I don't hate it or anything, but I was wondering."

"Ah, because you remind me of some...old friends, we'll say. Were you ever told the story of Jonah and the Whale?"

"...uh-"

"What ever happened to "I won't be here to confirm that"?"

The moment was cut short as Jonah suddenly let you go, looking back to see Adam emerge from the house completely unharmed. He had the camcorder and other equipment in his arms, and an annoyed expression on his face.

As he approached the van, he stopped short upon seeing the other male, blinking in bewilderment. "Were you crying?"

"..n-no, it's the allergies. I told you it's that damn cat's fault.." After making a point to wipe his eyes, Jonah shoved his hands into his pockets. "So um...what did you find in that basement?"

"Just an old TV. And you're right about that cat..it was actually an Alternate. But I got some other good footage, so I'm ready to bail."

"What about staying-?"

"We'll tell the lady we stayed all three nights." Adam shrugged. "It's not like she'll know."

"Oh, so now you listen?"

"....look, this shit's getting heavy. So if you don't mind-"

"I'll help." You spoke up, disliking this growing tension in the air as you took the heavier equipment away from Adam and loaded up the van with it.

But still, you refused to allow it to start, and Jonah knew exactly why.

He couldn't just act like he didn't have that huge fight with his friend only a short time ago, so they both talked for a few minutes, apologizing to one another and hugging it out.

When they heard the engine crank on, they immediately rushed towards the van...only to see you sitting behind the wheel, much to their confusion.

They didn't know Alternates could drive.

"You kids had a rough few nights. I'll take us wherever you desire to go." You offered.

"Jeez, since when did we have our own chaperone?" Adam rolled his eyes, but opted to climb into the back while Jonah called shotgun. "I guess we owe you an apology too, right?"

"Well..Jonah and I talked it out already, but I forgive you both."

"Yeah...I still feel like shit, though."

"Dude," the brunette huffed. "What did you say to them?"

Jonah opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it as he didn't wanna bring up the harsh words he said out of frustration and anxiety. Instead he just shook his head. "I-It doesn't matter. Let's just get outta here and go for some pizza."

"I would very much like that." You agreed, backing out of the driveway and heading down the main road.

"And....as thanks for putting up with our bullshit, we'll let you pick the toppings this time."

"What?!" Adam's jaw dropped, but your smile only grew, and he had no choice but to relent.

It was certainly something to think about on the way to the pizza shop you all knew and loved.

#leave it to alternate y/n to break the canon /ref #clanask #anonymous #mandela catalogue x reader #the mandela catalogue x reader #tmc x reader #alternate reader #alternate y/n #adam murray #jonah marshall #platonic #hurt/comfort #angst/horror prompt

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realityandrebirth · 5 months

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Green

Three scenes from an alternate universe. | A piece I'm never going to finish.

Warnings for mentioned/implied death.

The Chosen Hero

When she first met him, Harumi thought Lord Garmadon's weapons were glowing with the power that allowed him to kill the Great Devourer. But that was a long time ago, and Harumi had not only learned that the Golden Weapons were not his, but that they were glowing because of her.

"I can't be the Green Ninja," she told him. "I don't want to defeat you! I hate the ninja!"

"I know," Garmadon said, "and that is why I took you in. Had the ninja realized who you were, they would have forced you to fight against me–but I changed that!" He glanced back at her with a grin. "With the Green Ninja on my side, my victory is assured!"

Harumi nodded, but she still felt uneasy. The sea air was cold, and she had never been so far from Ninjago. "Why didn't you tell me before?" she said.

"I was afraid you would want to fulfill the prophecy. I understand now I had no reason to worry." Garmadon adjusted the sail and squinted through the fog. "If my calculations are correct, we should be reaching the dark continent soon…"

She wrung her hands together. "I'll never fulfill the prophecy," she said. "I won't be their Green Ninja."

"Yes, that's what I'm counting on. A-ha!"

The sailboat ran aground. Garmadon stepped out into the shallow water and picked up Harumi, putting her on his shoulders. "This will give us what I need to conquer Ninjago," he said. "I will rule over them as Lord Garmadon–and you will be my princess! Let's go!"

Harumi nodded. "The ninja will pay," she said.

The Prized Possession

"Fix your posture," the ghost hissed. "Pull back harder. You've got living muscles, boy. Use them."

"I know what I'm doing," Lloyd said, and he set the arrow loose. It sailed through the forest brush and pierced the center of the target he had drawn on a tree. Soul Archer examined it and nodded in approval–the highest possible praise from him.

"Your targets won't be trees," he said. "Your next lesson is moving targets."

"I can hit moving targets," Lloyd said. "Ghoultar, throw me a puffy pot sticker!"

"Okay!" Ghoultar bellowed, and he tossed one of the dumplings into the air. An arrow promptly pinned it to a branch. While Ghoultar mourned the wasted food, Lloyd turned to Soul Archer with a smirk, only to be met with a disapproving scowl.

"I'm not training you to show off, boy," he said. "You have a destiny to fulfill."

"I know!" Lloyd protested. "I'm ready for it!"

He yelped as a third ghost grabbed his hoodie and hoisted him off the ground. "You'll be ready when she says you are," Bansha hissed. "You have a long way to go before you can think about seeing your father again."

Lloyd clenched his jaw. "I will be worthy of serving the Preeminent," he said carefully. "I will free my father and kill the Green Ninja."

Bansha dropped him. "Then get back to work," she said.

He stood up and summoned another ghostly arrow. "Moving targets," he said to Soul Archer. "What do I need to know?"

It was easy to hit every mark when he pictured Harumi's face on the target–the girl who had stolen his father from him.

The Quiet One

"Your parents built this?" Harumi said, following the prince deeper into the palace. The floor was stone carved with intricate runes and symbols, and the air was cold enough to make her shiver.

"They had it commissioned," Morro said. He didn't seem bothered by the cold. Harumi knew very little about the adopted son of Ninjago's emperor and empress, just that he was a sickly child who shared a name with Master Wu's first student. For a long time, his adoption had not been announced for fear he would die before adulthood, but as it went, the heir had outlived his parents. He looked healthy enough, Harumi thought to herself, keeping an eye on him.

"It was done in utmost secrecy," he continued. "The contractors were paid very well. My parents had very specific needs."

"Did they need a haunted mansion?" Harumi muttered.

Morro laughed. "They needed a temple."

He stopped at the entrance of a large room. Harumi peered over his shoulder and gasped.

The three oni masks the ninja had failed to protect lay on three pedestals. Harumi's hand went to her sword.

"What's the matter?" Morro said, not looking at her.

"You have the oni masks," she hissed. "You're working with the Sons of Garmadon!"

"I'm more than working with them," Morro said. "Disarm her."

Harumi didn't know what he meant until a blow hit her shoulder. She yelped and dropped her sword. Strong arms wrapped around her middle and hoisted her up in the air. She recognized Killow's laugh as she struggled.

"What do you want?!" she shouted. "You have the oni masks! Now what?!"

Morro turned away. "My parents wanted a child," he said, "and after several failed attempts, they didn't think they would ever have one. They resorted to drastic measures."

"What are you talking about?!"

More Sons of Garmadon appeared out of the shadows. Morro snapped his fingers. "They had very specific needs," he said again. "They needed an obedient child, someone to teach and train, to mold into their image. A quiet one, even."

Harumi grit her teeth. "You're awfully chatty for the Quiet One," she snapped.

"I was not the child they wanted, no." Morro turned around and grinned. "They may have built the Temple of Resurrection, but they had no idea who they would get."

Her eyes widened. Memories flashed in her mind; You lost your parents? Morro said. I'm sorry to hear it. It must have been a tragedy.

She shook her head and planted a kick directly in Killow's gut. He swore and dropped her. Harumi darted away before he could grab her again. The rest moved to restrain her–Morro raised a hand and they froze.

"I'll make a deal with you," he said. "You let me resurrect who I want, and maybe I'll give you a turn."

#lego ninjago #ninjago fic #ninjago fanfic #ninjago #ninjago harumi #ninjago morro #lloyd garmadon #harumi ninjago #morro ninjago

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givemea-dam-break · 1 year

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could you possibly do lockwood x reader and the reader is always slightly to eager to sacrifice her life for george and lockwood etc to the point where lockwood is concerned about it and he confronts her abt it and she basically says how does the same thing like kinda angsty.

sorry that was long and rly specific and sounds abit depressing in retrospect 😭 no pressure if not love ur lockwood and co imagines tho

a/n: oh i can absolutely do this! if there's anything i love, it's lockwood and angst lol. i hope you enjoy!! and don't worry about the length of a request, if there's something you want then I'll do it <3

warnings: mild language, angst, mentions of death gn reader

It's four in the morning and all you want is a good cup of tea and to lie down, but when does anything ever go the way you want it to?

As you sit on one of the kitchen chairs, Lockwood is fumbling around, trying to patch up a gash on your forehead after a scuffle with the ghost you had a case for tonight. You feel like a child. Even more so because he's telling you off.

If you're being honest, you've not been listening to most of what he's been saying, partly because of exhaustion and pain, partly because he's been pattering on for so long that, quite frankly, you've lost interest.

"Are you even listening to me?"

You flinch as Lockwood slathers antiseptic cream on the cut. "Honest answer?"

"Preferably."

"Then no. What were you saying?"

The look he gives you holds no humour. No, this is the look Anthony Lockwood gives when he's tired and irritated and unable to keep up the farce of a charming, unbothered business owner. It doesn't hold much sway over you, and it never has, truthfully, but you can empathise with him. Solely because he often acts the same way you're acting now.

"You can't keep doing this," he says. His eyes are fixed on the plaster he slowly places on your forehead. "You're throwing yourself into harm's way with no good cause."

"No good cause? I think making sure you and George stay alive is an exceptional cause."

"This isn't a joke, (name). This is your life."

The words irk you a little. "I could say the same to you."

Lockwood's hands drop from your head, and he looks at you straight-on now. His eyes, usually filled with curiosity and soft happiness, swirl with something else. Frustration.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're always so snippy with me after cases," you say, trying to keep the edge out of your voice, "when all I'm doing is keeping you and George safe. I mean, tonight, you were both ghost-locked when I found you! But you're no different. If anything, you're worse than me. You've thrown yourself out of windows before. Shit, you've locked me in a room to fight a ghost yourself while I tried to find a source!"

He starts packing away the first aid kit, tearing his eyes away from yours, and you know you've made a good point. He never looks at you when he knows you're right.

"Lockwood, this company can't survive without you, we can't survive without you. My risks are thought through, and I'm not doing anything that should really cost me my life. You on the other hand..."

He glances at you, a muscle twitching in his cheek. "Me?"

You sigh, willing him silently to just look at you. "You'd give your life in a second. Which, believe me, I am eternally appreciative of, but it's rarely ever necessary, if ever. I've half a mind to think you're doing it to just... you know. Finish things. I'm - we're concerned about you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, you absolutely do. You are such a hypocrite!"

"Me?" The look he gives you is scathing, so unlike any way he's looked at you before. "That's rich. Who was it that jumped from a balcony to stop of ghost? Who put themself right in the path of a ghost launching itself for someone? It was you!"

The anger that grips you is almost unbearable, but you push it down. Shouting will get you nowhere, and George is trying to sleep. "First of all, that balcony hung over a thick spread of bushes, so I had no injuries except for some thorn scrapes. Secondly, that ghost was going to kill you. Third, I can name at least five more things you've done in the last two weeks that put you in much more danger. Are we seriously going to make this a competition?"

Suddenly, he stands, and his chair scrapes loudly against the floor. You wince, watching as he shoves the first aid kit back into the cupboard. He pauses, hands on the countertop, standing straight as a rod.

Drama queen, you think, but you don't dare say it out loud.

"You're getting too reckless," Lockwood says, his back still facing you. "I can't risk having an agent who is too reckless. It endangers everyone."

Oh, you want to strangle him.

Angrily, you stand, not caring that you almost send the chair clattering to the floor. You press your hands to the table, wrinkling the thinking cloth, and lean forward, scowling.

"Reckless? Do you even hear yourself, Lockwood?"

"I do."

"I think you just love to hear the sound of your own voice. Surely that's why you spout so much bullshit."

"No, I -"

"I'm talking now, Lockwood," you snap and, thank god, he goes quiet. "You of all people do not get to call me reckless, not with the shit you pull. George, yes, he can feel free. But, you? Not a fucking chance. You go out of your way to put yourself in dangerous situations! And I get it, you want to protect us, but that is what I'm doing, too, and you don't see me almost dying! I leave with a scratch or two, so what. You leave with concussions and ghost-touch and the risk of bleeding internally. But, okay, I'm the reckless one. Whatever."

When he turns, his eyes are burning. "You endanger all of us when you pull shit like what you did today."

Scoffing, you say, "All right. What should I have done? Left you and George to be killed? My question is, what would you have done, Lockwood? Would you have left us?"

His silence is your answer, and you stand straight. Your gazes are locked, both alight with rage, but you won't back down. Not on this.

"That's what I thought."

You make to leave, but he moves quickly, grasping your wrist with a touch that should be strong. You're surprised by the gentleness of his hand, how loose his grip is, and you look up at him, frowning. His gaze has changed entirely, from rage to desperation.

"I can't -" He struggles for the words. "I can't lose you, (name). Not like I lost..."

My family. The words are left unspoken, but you know it's what he would've said. There's a pang in your heart, and you want to apologise for it all, but that's always been your gut instinct. To say sorry for everything. But not this time.

"And you think I can bear to lose you?" You try to hide the waver in your voice, but he's caught it, and you know it from the way his gaze softens. "You can't order me around, demand me not to protect you guys, when you do exactly that. It's not fair, Lockwood. Not on me, not on George. And I don't - I don't want a part in this if all you're going to do is sacrifice yourself and then criticise me for doing the same."

His hand shakes as it holds yours, and that's when all the sadness hits you, the regret for the argument you've had. "I'm sorry. I just..."

Your hand closes over his. "I know. I know."

When his forehead touches yours, careful not to press on the gash, you breathe in deeply. And you breathe out all the bad, all the pent-up anger inside of you. There's too little time in your lives to spend like this.

"I won't stop unless you stop," you murmur, closing your eyes.

His breath is warm on your cheeks. "Seems like we're stuck in a checkmate forever, then."

You sigh. "I suppose we are."

#anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #george karim #lucy carlyle #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

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ancientschampionau · 8 days

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RealAge AU Drabble - Parentalbond Dust

I am back :3 Another drabble for the RealAge AU (Thanks @spotaus as always for starting this treat by treating me to the first prompt that got this ball rolling)

First drabble Prev drabble Next drabble

Remember how in the last drabble I uploaded i mentioned those parentalbonds? (honestly if you read my drabbles in order these before things won't make ANY kind of sense... anyway!)

I had been thinking about how all of them bond with they new tiny boss and finally settles on how. The question then was. Who goes first?

I decided to go in order of who bonded with Nightmare first :3

So, big surprise. Dust. (everyone was surprised by this)

Warnings as always, unedited and unbeta'ed. We are here for a good and fun time.

Slight warning for Ghost/hallucination Papyrus being rude and mean and intrusive thoughts.

------------

Dust can admit that Nightmare is fast. Dust is just faster, by a lot.

As soon as Nightmare shifts Dust has an arm around him and drags him back to his side.

Nightmare glares at him, and it would have been terrifying and effective.

If Nightmare wasn't tiny.

Fuck DUst is still not over how TINY his boss is now.

Can Dust even still call him boss? That would be weird. Kiler tends to call Nightmare Tiny Boss now but Dust isn't quite set on a name yet.

Nightmare grumbles nad glares to the side once it becomes clear once again that Dust isn't going to get intimidated.

Nightmare glances at him before crossing his arms as he looks to the side "This is stupid."

Dust nods "I agree." Dust did not want to be here just watching Nightmare and keeping him from wandering and getting lost.

A cackle and then a whisper Really? First kidnaping and now keeping him a prisoner? How low you have sunk. Keeping a child captured and locked away.

Dust's hand forms a fist as he tries to ignore the muttering. They just need Nightmare to see he can trust them. That is all. That takes time. The chackle just chackles on.

Nightmare shoots him a look "It is stupid. I don't need supervision. I am fine on my own."

Dust goes to nod before blinking and shooting him a look "Yeah no. Nice try. I am staying right here."

Nightmare looks beyond annoyed but it is justified that one of them watches over him. Mostly because Nightmare had already managed to almost escape three times.

Look, it has been an hectic week since they euh... found Nightmare again.

Even more laughter that no one else hears Oh? That is what you call it now? That is what you call stalking a child? Following him everywhere? Finding out where he feels safest and surprising him there? Hah! Found! You are a liar and you even lie to yourself.

Dust glares harder at the dark wall as he pulls his knees up and leans on those as he watches the wall, still being a physical barrier between Nightmare and the door.

Nightmare glares at him but Dust just keeps glaring at the shedwall. Waiting. Hoping one of the others will come to relieve him of this babysitting duty. He hates it. He feels useless and stuck.

A huff Wow? Really? You decided to capture him and now you are annoyed you have to watch your prisoner? And even better the one you captured was the one to save you before? You really are thankless and impossible to please. You will never be happy or content and you don't deserve to feel other of those things.

Dust takes another deep breath. He needs a distraction. But what?!

Dust takes out his phone and scrolls through what he has on there. He sees a few movies and gets an idea.

He needs to wait while the others get supplies anyway. Cross is getting information about the multiverse, Horror is getting them food and Killer is getting them overall supplies.

Which means they should still be busy for a while.

Dust pauses as he shoots Nightmare a look. Nightmare had just been sitting there staring at his own feet as he wiggles his feet a bit. Distracted for a bit.

Dust grins as he reaches for Nightmare and quickly grabs him.

Nightmare immediantly freezes for a moment before glaring "What?!"

Dust grins and just turns him around and his old hoody that Nightmare had taken and stolen ages ago. and as Nightmare has his arms crossed he puts the hoody on him. He yelps but Dust doens't give him time to try and get his arms in the right sleeves. Instead Dust ties those together.

He thinks for a moment before grabbing his scarf and using that to tie up the slippery skeleton.

Dust takes a step back to watch his handy work and can't help but snort.

Nightmare looks shocked down at his state. The hoody already making it harder for him to move and now the scarf kept him even more from moving. The problem was. With Nightmare just being tiny and looking like a babybones... He looks plainly adorable. Fuck Dust kinda wished he had made a bow instead of a knot but he has a mission.

Dust nods and looks at Nightmare "Don't move. I am going to grab some food." He turns and leaves the shed.

It should take Nightmare at least a little while to escape that situation. And Nightmare hadn't tried another teleport after he butchered the last one and got them all thrown into a river. Which means that Dust doubts he will try another one soon.

Dust follows the road and by memory finds the pizza place they walked by not too long ago. He only has to wait for a little while before a delivery boy goes by on bike. He kicks off the guy and snatches the bag. Dust is already in the bushes again before the human has time to form a completely sentence.

Dust has to take a bit of a longer way back to make sure he doesn't go over the road. But as he cuts through backyards and gardens he can't help but feel a bit anxious. What if Nightmare escapes? How is he going to explain that.

By the time he is by the shed again he is close to shaking. He opens it and snorts as Nightmare seems to have fallen over. Less funny is the fact he has almost wiggled his way out of his trappings.

Dust puts the bag to the side and silently joins Nightmare's side "And? Is it working?"

Nightmare freezes before a mutter "I hate you."

That.

Dust isn't sure how to explain how much that hurts.

A sneer Really? Are your poor feelings hurt? By just that? What? Are you sad your so-called boss finally hates you? After all the disappointment and betrayal? And yet you feel sad? You truly are nothing but disgusting and disapointing trash.

Dust ignores it as he pulls Nightmare back upright and undoes the scarf binding and unknots the sleeves. Dust has already helped Nightmare with getting on of his arms into the right sleeve before Dust realises what he is doing.

Dust freezes and Nightmare ignores him as he quickly finishes dressing himself. After which Nightmare glances at him with an expecting look.

Dust instead just sits down on his spot on the ground. Opens the bag and fishes out the food. Oh nice. two pizzas instead of one. He lays both open near him before spotting some weird shake things, three of them. Dust shrugs again and places them near them. Next he grabs Nightmare again and pulls him right by his side as he opens his phone and scrolls through the movies.

Dust very quickly realises he deosn't really have movies without a high rating on his phone.Dust isn't even sure how far Nightmare's mind is at the moment.

Dust knows that Nightmare knows who they are. But Dust doens't know how old Nightmare is mentally at the moment. It isn't like Nightmare is sharing any of that information with them at the moment but Dust thinks he is at least a child again. He just also still has his adult form's memories and that is causing a bit of a disconnect.

Dust sighs and looks at Nightmare "Do you like horror movies?"

Nightmare shoots him a suspicious look before answering "I don't dislike them. They can be..." a frown as Ngihtmare thinks for a while before answering with some difficulty "interesting."

That was another thing that is slightly adorable. Nightmare is trying to still speak like he used to before but it seems that some of his knowledge has disappeared after regaining his true body.

Dust nods as he puts on the horror movie. It is one he thinks is okay even after seeing it four times. And only one of those four was because Dust had wanted to watch it.

He presses play and the movie starts.

Nightmare at first tries to keep his distance but it is a matter of time before he is focussed fully on the movie.

Dust grabs some food and eats it. He makes sure it push some towards Nightmare including one of the drinks.

The movie plays and they watch as some dude bro guy walks through the froest. Shouting about how he isn't scared and to come get him!

"... Why?"

Dust blinks and looks at Nightmare. Nightmare stares at him.

Dust looks back at his phone and the now paused movie "Why the guy is screaming? Mostly he is stupid?"

Nightmare frowns beofre looking away "No. I mean... Why.... this?"

Dust looks at the pizza and his phone "I just wanted to watch a movie?"

More frustration on Nightmare's face before he sighs. He then just looks back at the phone with a resigned expression. "okay."

Dust hates that. No. That isn't right. Nightmare doesn't give up and certainly doesn't give up getting answers to questions he has. Dust doesn't press play and looks at Nightmare "What why?"

Ngihtmare glances to the side. To all their things. "You don't... want to be here... with me. Why..."

Dust frowns "I told you? To make sure you don't escape."

More frustration on that tiny face and Ngihtmare looks away "it's not..." another sigh "whatever. When will you kill me?"

dead silence.

Dust turns sharply "What?!"

Nightmare shrugs "I figured... I wanne know."

Dust stares at Nightmare "What the hell? No we don't want you dead?! Why would we go out of our way to find you just to hurt and kill you?!"

Nightmare sits very still before shrugging again "it is the normal thing... normally."

The book. The fucking story. Fuck! He is a fucking idiot!

Nightmare is a child again! Nightmare is in the middle of his fucking trauma! To him the trauma happened days ago! Of course he thinks they would hurt him. That is what always happens.

How long has Nightmare thought that was the only reason anyone ever came to him? How long had a six year old have to fear the sound of someone approaching.

Dust looks away "We... aren't going to kill you... or hurt you." but... why would he beleive his words? Why would he believe anything any of them say after they arleady betrayed him once?

"okay."

It didn't sound like an okay in the way that he heard and believed what Dust said. it was an okay in the sense of a child being afraid to disagree.

Fuck.

Dust isn't sure how to... how to fix this mess. The mess he had partly created. He isn't even sure this can be fixed...

Dust glances back at him and speaks quieter "I mean it... we aren't going to hurt you. We don't want that." wait... he never... "I am sorry."

a long silence but he forces more out "we shouldn't have left. I shouldn't have left. I just... figured it wasn't my place anymore. I was wrong. I am sorry i left you." and it won't happen again.

Even just saying those things. Apologising. Dust feels lighter. It feels good. He needed Nightmare ot hear that Dust now realises.

Ngihtmare doens't say anything about it but does relax a tiny bit next to him. A very very fragile and tiny show of trust and Dust wants to grab it with both hands but he does't know how!

For now he turns the movie on again and makes sure the babybones is near him and eating and drinking.

Dust isn't even watching the movie anymore. He just listens out in case there is anyone who will try to hurt Nightmare or tempt this uneasy peace they have managed to create.

THe movie plays on and Dsut suddenly feels a weight against him. He turns and stares. Because Nightmare is asleep while leaning against him. Out like a light.

It doesn't even surprise Dust. As Dust doubts that Nightmare slept at all in this last week. Maybe even not before they took him with them.

Dust can't help but notice the very dark marks under those sockets. clear sighs of lack of sleep.

Dust moves slowly and carefully as he picks Nightmare up and puts him in his lap. Fuck he is freezing. Dust wraps his own hoody around him and it helps him relax.

He is safe. He is asleep. And while getting Ngihtmare to trust them again will be a long time and healing will be even longer... For now Dust is happy with his arms full of babybones.

-----

First drabble Prev drabble Next drabble

#RealAgeAU #deaged nightmare #utmv #fanfic #drabble #Nightmare sans #Dust sans #bad sanses #Okay that are the necessary ones for now #And that is how Dust SpeedRun the character development to start feeling like Nightmare is his babybones.#Congrats Dust #You are a parent now #the baby is nightmare #You may eventually need to learn how to share this right #also yes from this day onwards Dust pretty much demanded to have babysitting duty #turns out when it is YOUR kid it is fine #the others EVENTUALLY caught on to what was going on #mostly after they completed their own parent speedrun #that is is for now

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way-of-love · 1 year

Text

The Heat of Adam (Teth-Adam x FemReader) (SPOILERS) (R-RATED) (PART 2)

Alright guys, here's PART 2! I've been quite sick so please bare with me as I try to write these beautiful ideas on my laptop! Also thank you so much to those who truly found this story a good read, love you all!!

And yes there will be a part 3!

PART 1 PART 3

-Currently you are the sister-in-law to Isis, the woman who found the tomb of Teth-Adam. You are the sister of the deceased husband of Isis and the only living aunt of Among, Isis and your brothers son. You felt for Adam during your time with him knowing all along that he was filled with more good than bad. During your journey with him and your family, you finally knew you cared for him more than you should...-

After internally admitting your feelings for the hero you were now waiting for the perfect moment to admit how you felt to him. You knew it would be difficult, especially knowing his past and what the poor man went through with his previous family. Not that you were saying you’d want to start one with him but, you know, maybe he could start something with you?

You were with him hours ago when he admitted to wanting to spend more time with you. That, you obviously didn’t deny. He sat with you at the foot of the throne talking and giving you an insight into his past, even spoke briefly about his wife and son that he thought he allowed to die. That, he blamed himself for. You knew there was nothing he could’ve done, or anyone for that matter because after all everyone was still human. For him, it was a mistake he truly wasn’t going to make again. And he made that perfectly clear to you. He confessed he enjoyed speaking to you about anything and everything and he was grateful for the things your family had done for him and you for always being there and showing you how the world changed, how his world has changed.

Then it came to the hardest thing you think he had to do yet, he confessed that he would have to go away for a while and discuss a few things with ‘important’ people. And he won’t be back until those discussions are over. In your mind you thought the Justice League finally snatched him up, but he quickly shut that idea down when it presented itself with Superman. Khandaq only had a hero for a few days and already the world was snatching him for itself, well the damn Justice League was. And you, left with nothing but the ghost of him until he returns.

First, you brother was taken and killed, your nephew gets kidnapped but thankfully saved and now the only man you’ve ever felt something for was leaving. Oh, how cruel the world could be.

You sat in the living room early that morning when Adam dropped you off through the hole in the wall by the shabby balcony, saying he’d visit before he departed. After spending those few hours just talking to him and hanging by the thread trying not to fall asleep, he called it a day and flew you home where you found yourself more awake than ever after he flew away.

You were in a dream-like state replaying the conversation earlier that morning before the sun rose. He kept telling you that when he returned, he’d be a better man than how he was currently. He even asked you to wait for him... did that mean he liked you too? You wanted to ask him so much what he meant by what he said but you couldn't muster up the words to do so.

“Auntie? When did you get home? I didn’t hear you come in,” Amon, holding his skateboard under one arm and his backpack slung over the other. He looked ready to start his day as usual.

You glanced back at him with a small smile, even reached a handout for him that he took without hesitation. Though he was a tad confused and a bit worried, you were the fun aunt not the mood dampening aunt. Looking at him reminded you why you never had kids of your own, too much emotion was needed to raise a child and you thought you could never do it in your line of work. But seeing Amon like this caring and comforting you made you realize maybe one kid wouldn’t hurt. After all, if your brother could raise a family, why couldn’t you?

“Are...you okay auntie?” His brows furrowed in concern while the corner of his mouth tilted up trying to smile a bit hoping to ease this atmosphere of longing you created.

“After the events of yesterday I’m more than alright. I was so glad that we saved you before anything worse happened. Adam...Black Adam is a hero, without him I’m not sure we’d save you,” Amon smiled warmly at you before dropping to one knee beside where you sat placing his skateboard down and looking up at you.

“You saved me too, Auntie. You’re a hero too. After dad...died. It was hard on both me and mom, but mom took it the hardest. Then you started living with us and it felt like Dad never left. You helped mom find justice for him and while you did that, you guys found Teth- Adam! I mean, you are the reason he even stayed here in Khandaq,” Amon looked more bewildered with every word that left his mouth. It warmed your heart seeing him like this, and it was all thanks to Adam. Though one thing did stick out about what he said.

With furrowed brows you asked him, “What do you mean he stayed because of me? He stayed because this is all he’s known...for the time being,”

Amon gave you a knowing look and shook his head, he looked like he had a secret he wasn’t going to tell you,” Auntie, Black Adam wouldn’t have stayed here in the city if it weren't for you,” The young boy stood back up and placed a solemn hand on your shoulder feigning pity, “Just wait ‘till he tells you because I don’t like meddling in adult stuff.”

You sat there staring pan faced at your nephew trying to understand what exactly this kid was saying at eight or nine in the morning. Your brain wasn’t functioning quickly enough for him, so he shakes his head, picks up his skateboard and heads towards the apartment door.

“Amon you better not be pulling my leg here or I swear no more late-night secret comms tapping.” Slowly you came to a stand and narrowed your tired eyes at him and all he did was snicker.

“Auntie, I’m not sure if adults still call it this but... Black Adam does like you. He’s just, how do you say, like a rock. Stubborn and doesn’t admit it easily like a normal person just give him time.”

You didn’t realize it then, but Teth- Adam left a big mark in not only your life but in your families lives as well. It was going to be a hard... goodness however long he was going to be away. You just hoped by the time he comes back things, feelings will be the same and that finally you could tell him just how much you care for him.

------------------------------------

ONE YEAR AND A FEW MONTHS LATER

As it turns out after saving a few cities with the help of the Justice League Black Adam was getting a handle of this superhero stuff. But the damage, the intel you worked for, was taken for granted. You had hoped that he wouldn’t be over glorified like all those red, white, blue washed heroes but turns out he was slowly becoming just like them.

The real heroes were the ones who rebuilt, sacrificed their very lives for information that delt damage to their enemies. Who killed their enemy. Yet, the root of evil keeps coming back with more heads after one was slain. So many people suffered because of these decisions, people without power never lasted long in this world, it just wasn’t fair.

Now, you who worked for a secret organization had an insight into everything these heroes did thanks to a leak in Amandas Wallers systems, you knew what the heroes knew so that meant your organization did too. With vital information like this you could easily sell it to the highest bidder on the blackest market known to man or do the good thing and use it to your advantage. Of course, you were the good doer and used it to better the lives of people who were done wrong by heroes and their mottos.

Shifting the black hot liquid in the mug you and Isis, your sister-in-law, watched the news in your new boxed tv. Her brother managed to scrape together some electronic parts to fix a semi modern tv up. Amon was currently in school, so he didn’t have that pleasure to witness the little surprise that was in store for the adults that morning.

After a year of a no call no letter and even a no show of Adam you simply gave up. You tried to contact him without raising suspicion or alarms in your direction, but you heard nothing back from him. Even when you went away to America on a solo mission, you were so close to his floating form that you called to him, but he did not answer. Right then you knew this was not the Black Adam that asked you to wait for him, this was Americas Black Adam. And with a heavy heart you accomplished your mission and returned home heartbroken and confused. Why’d he ignore you like that? You knew there was nothing wrong with his hearing. He was superhuman! He chooses to ignore you that day.

It took you weeks to get over that ache in your chest, you went on missions, took under the table jobs until you ended up hurting yourself on a dangerous info retrieval mission by Russia. You were in an arm cast for months, last week the doctor gave the okay and removed it. Isis was also scolding you about how much you’ve been working, that if you worked too hard, you’ll land in an early grave…just like your older brother. It hurt but it was true. He lived his life trying to free Khandaq and died trying so hard to do so. You’ll be next if you don’t take a break.

After a few calls and Amons complaints to you, you decided to take a month off to…relax. Now at a different apartment further from the city and closer to Isis’s new teaching job in the university, you ran the house for her. The freed city gave her the job she lost back with more privileges, meaning this spacious apartment and higher pay. Amon was taking full advantage of the time he had now that his mother was working at the university; going out exploring more of the ruins before his mother came home, discovering more hidden nooks and crannies inside the apartment building. You always thought he was a smart kid, so you gave him a time limit to do so.

He reminded you so much of you and your brother when you both were just children. As you cleaned up around the kitchen you noticed the picture Isis kept of the small family when your brother first moved in with her. The four of you, Isis, your brother, and her brother were piled onto a tiny kitchen table with open boxes everywhere filled with dishes or glasses. Isis was pregnant with Amon during that time and didn’t know, that’s what made the picture so sweet. Everyone was in it. Everyone except Adam.

With a heavy sigh you placed the picture back on the small fridge replaying the memories you had in that one tiny apartment when you heard the front door of the apartment open. Immediately you thought Amon was home, so you spoke without looking up from the picture.

“Dinner’s ready Amon, make sure to wash up and put your skateboard away. Also, dust off whatever dirt you may have so,” You turned around to face Amon, “That your mom…doesn’t…”

Your words trailed off when you noticed Amon wasn’t the only one standing in the doorway. The big, tall familiar being wearing a dark hood over his head stood there behind a nervous looking Amon.

He quickly came inside and went straight to you grabbing your arm and shaking it lightly. But your attention stayed fixated on the man who had your heart standing by the now closed door of the shared apartment. You were shocked to see him and even more shocked that he had the audacity to come back.

“Auntie! Auntie! He came back, Teth Adam came back!” Your poor nephew sounded excited or relieved, you didn’t feel any of that whatsoever. In fact, you felt…angry that he was here. How dare he show up and not even to you or to his people but to your nephew. The one person he knew wouldn’t push him away because of how long he’s been gone.

“How…How dare you come back?” The words were out your mouth before you could stop them. You saw how his shoulders tensed under his fucking cloak as if what you said hurt him. Oh please. You crossed your arms under your chest and tilted your head as if to say, ‘Explain yourself now.’

Amon stood in front of you looking like a kid caught awkwardly in a fight between his married parents. He shuffled closer to you and looked up into your furious eyes,” Auntie, I saw him by the old apartment. He was looking for us, who knows how long he was looking for us!” There he goes justifying the heroes' actions.

“Khandaq isn’t that big. If he was and wanted to look for us, he’d find us by now on his own,”

“Auntie please- “

“Amon,” His deep voice shook your bones and warmed your core. “Let me talk to your aunt. There’s a lot that needs to be said and I won’t shy away from this confrontation,”

“Look at you using big hero words,” A scoff left your mouth.

You guessed that’s all Amon needed and nodded. Adjusting his backpack that was slung over his shoulder he began to head towards the living room but not before stopping by Adam and giving him his own warning a childlike one, “Try not to hurt my aunt again this time.” And he disappeared into the living room.

The two of you were left, him by the door and you in the kitchen. But you suppose the distance wasn’t a fitting one so Black Adam decided to close that distance and walk slowly, not usually like him, into the kitchen. That stupid hood still covered most of his face except for below his nose so you couldn’t see exactly what he was thinking or see how he was feeling. He now stood a few feet from you peering at you no doubt from under his hood. It was annoying.

You released an exasperated sigh and raised a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose, “Are you going to leer at me or are you going to give me an explanation? Why’d you suddenly leave without a proper goodbye and not even bother to acknowledge my presence? Did you find an American woman and decided to leave your life behind here? What?” You didn’t realize the tone of your voice was rising until Isis’s brother peeked over at you from the living room with Amon who was also wide eyed. You rarely yelled and when you did it was either while playing a game with Amon or yelling during your own missions but never like this, not when you were upset.

Being tense like this wasn’t good for the heart. You relaxed a bit well as much as you could while having the man that almost broke your heart standing before you.

“I know you're upset with me. And you have every right to be. I made you a promise that I intended to keep but I broke it instead,” He reached up and slowly removed his black hood revealing his face to you finally, after a year and some months you saw his face. He looked the same but his dark eyes...they looked so worn. As if he hasn’t slept in days, no scratch that month.

Without hesitation you raised your hands and cupped his cheeks, worry written all over your face, “What in the world happened to you? Did they send you out into space or something? Adam...you look so bad,”

He closed his eyes briefly and you felt the way he gently nudged his cheek into your palm some. “I told you, I wanted to come back a changed man. And I did accomplish that,” You only shook your head and took your hands back. A changed man wouldn’t just leave, ignore the person who clearly freed him from that stupid prison, never contact you when he clearly knows you’ve been trying to contact him. Nor does he suddenly come back out of the blue and try to mend things back to how they were. He must’ve seen how conflicted you were, so he didn’t bother reaching for you, he gave you space.

“I know I have no excuse for the way I acted. Nor do I have an excuse for communicating with you about where I was, when I’d be back,” You didn’t bother to look up at his face now because if you did, you’d probably fold and tell him that it was okay when clearly it wasn’t. He knew how you felt you made it pretty obvious to him when you were helping him run around the city after you freed him with Isis. And for some strange reason your nephew knew Black Adam had a crush or liked you, yet after the whole year of not hearing a single response or even a look of acknowledgment in America to feel reassured that he was the same Adam that flew you to your home that beautiful morning. But you got nothing. Did he even like you? Was that even a thing?

You felt a thick warm finger tuck under your chin and forced your head up, now you were looking up into those dark eyes that seemed to hold so much emotion as clear as day. Some may think he was glaring down at you and others may think he was plotting your death but for you, for you he looked like he was trying to show you how sorry he felt.

“I tried to protect you. No one knows you as a spy, they only know you as Y/N the person who helped liberate Khandaq and freed me. If I showed any more interest, then I’d be freeing you from your own prison right now,” He spoke low and close to you. No one knew what you really did as an occupation, it was dangerous work and you only told Adam because...you were head over heels for the brute and truthfully no one would truly believe him, unless...unless he showed interest and Waller decided to investigate. Squeezing your eyes shut it dawned to you that what he was saying was absolutely true. And here you were yelling at him like some kid in middle school all because your feelings were hurt. You must stop hanging with your nephew so much.

“Adam I... I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even thinking about that. I was just—I didn’t know what I was thinking,” Apology after apology left your lips and all he did was cup your delicate cheeks with his calloused palms and smile, he genuinely smiled down at you.

“Y/N, there's no need for apologies. You did what you felt and... you thought you were doing the right thing. I, on the other hand, will need to apologize,” Adam leaned in closer to you, shoulders hunched a bit, and he was blocking most of your view from the living room and blocking the view to you.

Brows furrowed you looked at him confused while cradling his wrists with your hands, “Apologize? You were just protecting me Adam,” Now he was getting a little too close, but you couldn’t jerk your head back even if you wanted to.

“No, for this,” It didn’t take long for you to put the pieces together as to what he meant but when you did his lips were already on yours. Surprise wasn’t the word to describe how you felt. Excited? In awe? Shocked? Maybe all the above. He was kissing you, really kissing you! This wasn’t a dream...this was real. You slowly closed your eyes and let his slightly chapped lips mold against your softer ones. You’ve dreamt of this day for such a long time and now that it was happening you didn’t know where to put your hands or even breathe. But Adam did.

He lowered one of his hands to your waist then your hip while your hands slid down his forearms feeling the thick barbed muscle and went straight to those broad shoulder you absolutely drooled over. As big as he was, he sure was gentle. Though you were glad that didn’t stop him from taking the initiative and pushing the kiss up another notch. A tongue gently glided across your bottom lip causing you to stop and open your eyes encountering two dark chocolate orbs staring right back at you half lidded.

“I apologize,” His voice was hoarse when he whispered, it sent a shiver down your spine. As quickly as he apologized just as quickly his tongue slipped between your awaiting lips crashing against your own tongue. A sudden moan left your lips when you finally got to taste him which in turn made him make a low groan himself. Your tongues were clashing against one another in a heated wet battle of who was sorrier than who but you both knew that wasn’t it. This passionate, desperate kiss was long overdue and now that it was time to collect you both were like teenagers making out.

His hands no longer respectfully stayed in their PG stations, they now roamed and gripped wherever they could. Gripping your sides, your hips before sliding back and finally cupping your plentiful rear. You were thankful you were wearing shorts because you were able to feel his rough hands upon the skin of your thighs. You pulled at his cape over his shoulders wanting him to be closer, closer than skin. That's what you wanted.

It wasn’t until he slid his hand back down your thigh and gripped it pulling it up over his hip, you were now flushed against him. Groin against groin and you felt just how happy he was to be kissing you in your sister-in-law's kitchen. Goodness, were you really going to do it here? In the kitchen?

“What in the hell is going on in here?” Isis’s voice broke you out of your trance causing you to jump and stare wide eyed at Adam who looked like he was about to dive in for another kiss. Luckily you stopped him with a shove to his chest, but he didn’t budge, wouldn't budge. Slowly you stood on your toes on the leg that was touching the ground to peer over at Isis over his shoulder.

“Um-- Adam is uh... he’s back,” Your other leg was still being held captive by his hand keeping it pressed to his hip.

“Clearly,” Isis crossed her arms looking at the two of you standing in her kitchen with disapproval written all over her face. “I’ll give you both five minutes and then I want to see you two in the living room.” And with that she turned, giving the two of you some privacy again.

“We can do a lot in five minutes lets-” Quickly you swatted at his shoulders and shoved him away, red all over your cheeks.

“Five minutes my ass! Go, get to the living room!” Honestly, it wasn’t possible to do anything in five minutes with a normal person but with Adam, you were hoping a lot could be done in less.

#x reader #reader insert #black adam #teth adam #teth adam x reader #black adam x reader #fem reader #smut #dcu fic

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half-deadmagicperson · 6 months

Text

HDBHFSP Chapter 2!

This is chapter two for my @ecto-implosion fic, 'How Danny Broke His Favorite Star Projector', based on art by the amazing @midnightectosnack (WHO HAS AMAZING ARTWORK THAT YOU SHOULD CHECK OUT!)

Rating: Teen (To Be Safe)

Crossover: Danny Phantom, Hades (Videogame)

Warnings: Non-graphic Temporary Death, Death Mentioned

Previous | Next

Link to The Amazing Artwork

Danny awkwardly held his hand out to his opponent, half expecting him to not take it. The Greek lowered his weapon and grasped Danny’s arm in greeting.

“Zagreus, Son of Hades and Persephone, Prince of the Underworld.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Your Highness, and sorry about this whole mess.”

“You said your mentor sent you. Who exactly is that?”

“Oh right! In the Infinite Realms we call him Clockwork. He’s the Keeper of Time. He said that you would know him as Chronos, but he’s neither evil, nor child-consuming. He’s more like an aspect of him that’s just purely Time. I don’t really understand it.”

The two continued talking for a while until Danny casually mentioned his home on Earth, or the surface as Zagreus knew it.

“So wait, do you know what a bird looks like, then?” Zagreus asked, rather enthusiastically. Danny raised a brow.

“Um…yeah? Do you, like, not get birds down here?”

“No, only spirits. Is it true that they fly?”

“Yeah, they fly all over the place. They’re pretty common on the ‘surface’.”

Zagreus looked at the boy awestruck before asking more questions. Danny told him about squirrels, turtles, and various other creatures. Zagreus listened intently, occasionally offering input from his brief time on the surface.

“But my favorite thing about the surface is the stars!” Danny mentioned after wrapping up his conversation about flamingos. Zagreus lit up.

“I always loved the stars! I would admire them every time I visited my mother! Although, it sounds like it has been quite a while since I’ve seen them.”

“I should totally take you to see them! In fact,” Danny looks at a bracelet on his wrist, “They should be out by now!”

Zagreus glanced down to think. A night out, although short, would be fun. He looked back up at Danny and smiled. Time to see the surface again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was ecstatic when the prince agreed to go with him. To make things easier on themselves, they decided to take the route through the Ghost Zone. Zagreus was a bit startled by the lack of gravity at first, but eventually got the hang of it. Danny led his new friend through as the ancient prince took in the sights of the floating islands and staircases. Occasionally, Danny would point out important spots, like the Far Frozen or Dora’s Kingdom.

“Oh and over here is Pandora’s domain! I don’t know if you met her at all, but she’s nice.” Danny said, pointing over to a large Greek-like structure. It was probably the most normal sight for Zagreus, compared to the rest of the Zone.

Finally, the duo reach a ripple in the green atmosphere. Danny stopped in front of it to explain some things to Zagreus before they went in.

“Here we are, the Portal. Now, before we go through, I should probably prepare you for what’s on the other side. The ‘Surface’ has changed a lot since you’ve been there. Heck, it’s changed a lot since I was alive! Humans have made lots of advancements and machines throughout the ages. There’s gonna be some things that might look strange and different to you.”

Zagreus nodded in acknowledgement, and the two walked through the ripple.

After stepping through, a dismal sight greeted Zagreus. The room was dark, much like his home, but this was more dingy. Sheets of cloth coated in dust covered many objects in the room. Boxes littered the room, but they were not a material the prince was familiar with. Danny sighed and dusted off one of the boxes.

“Welcome to Fentonworks, or what’s left of it. The building is owned by my nephew. My, uh, my sister, Jazz, after we found out I couldn’t age set it up so that I could have a place to hide out in. Plus, someone needed to watch the portal.” Danny awkwardly scratched behind his neck before signaling to go upstairs.

The upstairs looked in a lot better shape than the dungeon they crawled out of. There was a small table to eat at, but no furnace. Danny noticed his confusion and showed him the ‘stove’ and ‘microwave.’ Zagreus took in the different sights of the house. Tiny portraits littered the shelves and walls. All of the ceilings had dim, weirdly shaped stars glowing on them. Another staircase and two ladders later, and they finally made it to their destination.

The stars were absolutely beautiful. An infinite expanse of glowing, white dots stretched down into the horizon. A gentle breeze brushed against Zagreus’s face as he took in the sight of the town. The buildings were taller than most houses he’s seen, but they were in shambles. He stood up from the cold metal of what Danny called ‘The Ops Center’ to get a better look at the town. Other than the moon and stars, there was no source of light. The structures were cracked, and plants claimed them as their own. Zagreus scanned the area for any signs of life. Surely there must be someone out here right? There’s no way Danny would be living in a town alone? Danny noticed the concern on Zagreus’s face.

“The town used to be more lively when I was growing up. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t huge either. Things were pretty great, going to the mall, getting some Nasty Burger, or even just sitting around playing DOOMED,” he started to explain, “After I died, the portal in my basement opened up which led to frequent visitors. They liked to stir up trouble with the living, so I usually had to stop them. Eventually, things became more peaceful, but the portal being open left some side effects on Amity. The ectoplasm from the portal contaminated the environment. People who lived here regularly didn’t notice a thing, but when relatives came to visit, they’d often get sick. The Guys in White, a government ghost hunting organization, decided to seal off the town from the rest of society. Nobody new ever came, but people were allowed to leave. I watched as the town slowly became smaller over time. After I got my job with Clockwork, I started guiding the town’s souls into the afterlife. I helped strangers, my friends’ grandparents, or a neighbor down the street. None of the deaths really affected me until they got closer to home. First, it was my father, then my mother, then Tucker, then Sam, then…Valerie, and…and…Jazz. They were all gone.”

Tears glinted in Danny’s eyes as the once cheerful expression was replaced with a far more sober one. Zagreus didn’t really know what to do about that, so he just patted the boy’s shoulder. Danny wiped his face and smiled. It was at this point Zagreus noticed that despite how young Danny appeared, his expression was filled with age. Danny rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry for ruining the mood. I guess I just haven’t had someone to talk to in a while.”

“That is alright…I don’t really have many friends either. Most of the time I’m just in my father’s palace or trying to break out,” Zagreus let out a snicker, “but I don’t really spend much time with the people down there.”

Danny nodded before replying, “Well, if you get bored doing whatever the Prince of the Underworld does, you’re more than welcome to come visit. I’ll even clean the house!”

“I may take you up on that offer,” Zagreus smiled, until he felt a wave of exhaustion come over him. Danny’s voice started to fade into the background.

“It’ll be nice to have a friend over for company!”

Zagreus let out a weak smile before the pain consumed him and Death reclaimed his form.

Danny watched his new friend dissolve into a puddle, much like one of his clones would, and started to panic. His friend just died??? Was this normal? He should see Clockwork. Can Greek gods even die? Is Zagreus considered a god? He really needs to go find Clockwork.

#danny phantom #ectoimplosion2023 #hades game #crossover #dpxhades #tw temporary character death #tw death mention #fic

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 2 years

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nyangnyang | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: You, Min Yoongi's wife, adopt a cat without telling your husband. Nyan.

warnings: nothing really, just a casual mention of sucking dick; wholesome suga-sweet domestic fluff ew what came over me, sheesh

“What is that?”

You didn’t even look up from your chopping. “That is a cat, Yoongi. I’m sure you’ve seen one.”

“Nyan.”

“Yes, but why is it in our home?”

“Nyan.”

You paused, wondering if that was too many green onions. Too little, you decided, and continued cutting some more. “I brought her here.” Yes, with the eggs, and possibly some ham. Add rice and it would be excellent. Should you add some spice? You didn’t want to ruin the colors though. Colorful food was nutritional food, after all. Perhaps a spicy sauce on the side.

“Nyan.”

“Her?”

“Well, of course, I took her to the vet first before we came home.”

“Wife.”

“Nyan.”

This was new. Two voices calling for your attention instead of one. Both with relatively the same tone. Not urgent, but not pleased with your partial attention either. You cracked three eggs and set the shells aside so you could rinse them later and put them in the compost. “Hm?” Best have a fourth. Yoongi needed to eat more.

“You cannot just bring home an animal.”

You looked up, finally.

Black wavy hair framing dark brows, pointed eyes, and the ghost of a frown on the incredibly handsome face of Min Yoongi. Hands in his pockets, wearing a loose white t-shirt that hung off his tall but slender frame and flowy black pants that dragged on the clean white-tile floor, covering most of his feet. Beside him, a medium-sized, very fluffy white cat sat patiently, bushy tail thumping against the ground.

Both curiously and deceitfully youthful faces.

You looked from the cat to your husband. Picked up the chopsticks and casually began beating the eggs, responding very calmly.

“Why not? I brought you home.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Anyway,” Yoongi suddenly said after the mute appreciation for you taking the chance that he had walked right into but also simultaneously refusing to acknowledge it to give you that particular satisfaction. His calm, borderline bored tone still hadn’t changed. “I thought we were going to pick out a cat together?”

“We were,” you continued, fluffing up the eggs lightly as you turned on the gas stove. “However, I passed by the pet store and she was looking at me in the same way you look at me, so I was convinced to stop by and at least have a look.” Too easy, some might call you, and you would respond with, no, intuition. You hovered your hand above the pan and hummed. Not quite hot enough. You reached over to the sink and dipped your fingertip under the water for a millisecond, flicking the droplet onto the pan. Ah, see, no sound yet. “She’s about a year old, and the worker said no one was adopting her because everyone wanted kittens. You said you always wanted a white cat, and I always wanted a cat in general. I think she’s a perfect fit. Very lazy. Sleeps a lot.”

The water droplet popped and you added the lightest dallop of oil, spreading it out with a twist of your other wrist that was holding the pan handle.

“Nyan.”

The cat seemed to agree.

“She seems rather noisy.”

“She’s noisy because her father is supposed to name her.”

You snuck a glance and Yoongi’s eyebrows had shot up.

“F… Father?” He stared down at the cat. As if on cue, the furry feline looked up curiously, bright blue eyes to dark brown.

“She is our child now.”

“Nyan.” The cat agreed for sure this time.

You added the eggs and tilted the pan letting them spread out as the oil simmered. Waited for the eggs to cook slightly so they held their shape, and then sprinkled the diced ham and green onions in, sneaking a glance at Yoongi, who was now crouched down to view the white cat at a more reasonable level. You folded the eggs lightly and kept them from browning, earning a pale-yellow color with an airy texture. A little white pepper. No need to add salt – the ham and fresh onions would provide the additional flavor.

You saw Yoongi hold out his hand.

The cat sniffed it.

Then rubbed her face against his knuckle.

You spied Yoongi's smile as you took the eggs off the heat and herded them into the glass container for his lunch tomorrow. You set a little aside for your own. Now, rice and the sauce. Maybe a side dish? The pickled radishes and kimchi, perhaps.

“Nyangnyang.”

You nearly dropped the pan. Wasn’t he going to name the white cat Sugar? At least, he said that when you were discussing it ages ago. Although, Nyangnyang was very cute, considering how vocal the cat seemed to be around her dad. Probably because she knew he was the more lenient parent. Clever girl.

“Murr,” was the cat’s reply, rubbing away with a loud purr.

“Heh, you’re noisy, aren’t you?”

“She’s still young,” you chuckled, rinsing off the pan. “One year old is barely an adult for cats.”

“Just like us, eh?”

“Yoongi.”

“Yes?”

You looked up, straining your neck. “This cat tree is nearly two meters.”

“Nyangnyang loves it already. Look, she’s getting ready to nap.”

The white fluff was willingly settling on the top floor of her new princess tower.

“Where are we going to put it?”

“I thought you had been watching interior decorating on YouTube? I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“What about one for our bedroom?” you asked, reaching up so Nyangnyang could lean over the carpeted edge and pepper your fingertips with nose kisses. It was a habit of hers that you had learned these past few weeks. That and her endless obsession with fresh laundry. Especially your husband’s clean underwear. She loved to roll on them and get her white fur all over the black.

You would call her a nuisance but someone this cute couldn’t be a nuisance.

Yoongi placed his hand on your head and messed with your hair.

“Nah, she likes sleeping with you more. That’s a waste of money.”

“She takes up the whole bed.”

“Ah, that’s how kids are, I guess.”

Nyangnyang purred.

“Weird, she’s not saying much when you’re petting her.”

The cat turned her head and looked straight at Yoongi, striking blue with an indifferent expression.

“Nyan.”

“She knows she can get something good if she keeps yelling at you.”

“Nyan.”

“Hah… Come down then. I’ll get a treat.”

Instantly, Nyangnyang popped up and limbered down the humongous cat tree the second she saw Yoongi turn and head to the kitchen.

“You’re too easy.”

“She deserves a treat for letting me know my purchase was worth it.”

You would have said she needed time to adjust. You listened to Nyangnyang’s insistent meows and Yoongi opened the cabinet and selected some freeze-dried chicken. He looked annoyed as he fished out a few pieces – too many, you thought fondly – and shushed her lightly as he placed them in his palm so Nyangnyang could eat out of his hand.

The next seconds were silent except for the pleased satisfaction of chomping down some treats.

Yoongi looked up, sensing you watching him.

“What?”

“I thought you said those were too expensive?”

He frowned, looking at the package as if he had just seen them. “She likes them.”

“She likes any treat.”

“She should eat healthy ones.”

Mhm. “I guess we’re cat people now,” you commented as Yoongi frowned at the furry peanut gallery and shook out one last treat for said peanut gallery.

“We were always cat people. That’s why we got married.”

You both liked to say you got married for any other reason other than I love you, which was the actual reason. There was no reason not to have some fun before you die, after all. “I thought it was because you got mad when you see me, and even madder when you don’t.”

“Either way I’m suffering,” Yoongi agreed. “Might as well get my dick sucked.”

You laughed as Nyangnyang trotted past, satisfied with the number of treats.

“Speaking of, my evening could use some dick sucking.”

Yoongi cocked an eyebrow, trying to hide his smirk. “You’re in luck.”

“Not in front of the child.”

“She’s on top of her princess tower; she won’t be looking.”

That was how you knew Yoongi was your match. He called the massive cat tree a princess tower even though you hadn’t mentioned thinking it. Some called that telepathy. You would call it perfection.

“I thought about calling it a princess tree just now.”

“And that’s why I’m your husband. Now stop sticking out that tongue and use it on me.”

shower, m pheromones, m

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

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impyssadobsessions · 2 years

Text

Raising Phantom chpt 2

AO3 Link DP x DC

Danny angrily colored a page that Jazz had set in front of him as he watched a video from his phone. Stupid page. It wasn't the page's fault, but Danny had to blame something. He still felt frustrated from the mugging. He was tired of hiding, and tired of playing defenseless kid. He wanted to scare the pants off them disgusting jerks. Well, he could always haunt them later. But Jazz could tell when he didn't get enough sleep. Call him cranky. He has a right to be! Danny stared down and sighed, the page just had ugly streaks of red in it. Looked like it was colored by a smaller child than he already was. He grabbed the paged and crumpled it up into a ball, getting what last bit of frustration he could out on the paper before tossing it in the trash. Even making it in the bin first try didn't help much.

“Feel any better?” Jazz asked as she sorted the returned books so they were easier to put back on the shelves. “No.” Danny grumbled, sinking in his seat. Danny glanced around and then spoke in a whisper. “Should have let me at them.” “You know why that was a bad idea, Danny. Besides, if I did, Red Hood would have seen you.” Jazz whispered back, never stopping what she was doing. Danny just huffed more as he sunk deeper in the chair. He hated being little. He should be in college, with his friends! …As if he even would have been able to. Danny glanced down, watching his fingers as he rolled the red crayon. He was barely passing any of his classes before being aged down. He was constantly asleep in class and most of the time he was absent chasing ghosts. And then, topic of major. He had no idea what he wanted to do with his life anymore. He never thought about it much after the accident. The one that turned him into a ghost. Half-ghost. He was still alive. “Jazz? Can I have another page?” “Sure thing, Danny.” Jazz handed him another page from the stack on the check out counter. The color page was just a dinosaur with a book, nothing interesting, but Jazz had said coloring is a relaxing activity. Which he was hoping was true. Mostly, Danny just needed to do something with his hands before he started accidentally using his powers... or go to the bathroom to fly out to mess with those muggers. That was very tempting option. He wonder how long it would take him before Jazz finds out.

The door to the library chimed open. “Hey Babs, sorry I was running late. Jaybird needed my help. So how things with the new girl going-?” A man walked in with a t-shirt and sweats, leaning over the counter looking at Jazz's back. His hair loose, but brushed out of his face, eyes blue and hair black. “Well, considering you already mistaken me for a season veteran in the library, I would say good.” Jazz turned around to smile at the man, taking off her reading glasses. The man did a double take, eyes widening, before running his hand through his hair embarrassed. “Man, and I get onto Timmy for not sleeping enough. Please don't tell Babs.” “No need, I saw the whole thing.” Barbara smiled, as she rolled her wheel chair next to the rolling chair Jazz was in. They look very similar, one might think Jazz was her younger sister. Didn't help they dressed about the same too. Jazz's face just was more round and her body was skinnier framed.

“Ah... No hope this isn't going on family chat.. huh?” the man jolted and then lowered his shoulders as if the answer was already given to him. “Are you guys related?” Jazz asked tilting her head, glancing between them. “Oh no, we've known each other since we were young.” Barbara clarified. “Making it sound like we're old.” The man grinned. “I'm Dick Grayson, Babs didn't tell me she hired her doppelganger. “ Dick held out his hand to shake Jazz's, giving a playful wink. Jazz reached out and shook it. “Maybe that's because she's off limits.” Babs smiled, as she leaned forward on the desk that sat behind the counter. “Is this because she has red-hair?” Dick taking back his hand, frowning at Babs. Babs leaned into Jazz with a nudge and a wink, “Don't fall for his charm. He doesn't know he's doing it.” Dick sighed, as he leaned on the counter, propping his head up with his hand. Jazz chuckled. “I'm not the one that needs to be charmed, if anyone has a chance with me.” Jazz smiled then looked back at Danny, who had been watching them this whole time from the little area he sat at. “This is my son, Danny.” Danny glared at Dick, bringing the point in. “And I'm Jasmine Nightingale, please call me Jazz.” Jazz smiled back at Dick. Dick blinked for a moment, looking between Jazz and Danny. They knew it was jarring with how young Jazz looked, but it was plausible. Dick then smiled at them, whatever thought he had, he kept it to himself. “Its nice to meet you, Jazz. Really, I am sorry for the mistake, but you two could pass off as sisters.” Dick then glanced back at Danny, giving him a brighter grin. “Its nice to meet you too Danny.” Danny glanced at Jazz, who was looking at Danny expectantly. Danny frowned, then idea popped as he grinned, “MOM says I'm not allowed to say curse words. Mr. Bleep.” Dick put a hand over his mouth as a snort come out. Babs turned her head. “Danny.” Jazz whispered harshly. Danny put on his best innocent face, which looked heavily mischievous instead. “Oh, so I can say it?” Jazz narrowed her eyes at him, trying to calculate how she should phrase it. “Only when you're referring to Mr. Grayson, or calling him.” Danny raised a brow, staring at his “mom” for a good long moment, then grinned cheekily. “Hey dick!” The tone was obvious. He wasn't using the name version of it. “Hey Danny!” Unfortunately it didn't have the effect he wanted as Dick was grinning ear to ear. Barbara shoulders were shaking a bit. Jazz turned back to Dick with a sigh. “Sorry. Danny doesn't really like to meet people.” “No need. I thought it was funny. The kids in my gymnastics class always get a kick out of my name.” Dick smiled. “Parents keep trying to force them to call him, Mr. Grayson. It doesn't work out too well.” Babs smiled. Danny stuck his tongue out. Of course someone who actively goes by Dick would be unbothered. He turned back to coloring, though pressing the crayon on the paper a bit too hard. “Oh, you teach gymnastics?!” Jazz asked curiously. “On the side. In Summer, I do it more. Especially with kids.” Dick explained. “I'll have to remember that for next year.” Jazz hummed with the thought. “I'm not going to dumb gymnastics class.” “It might help perfect your landing.” Jazz smiled with a wink. Danny narrowed his eyes at Jazz and huffed with a grumble back to his coloring pages. Groaning when he ripped the page with the crayon, before face planting into the table. “Landing?” Dick asked, giving a sympathetic smile Danny's way. “Oh, yeah. He likes to jump off of walls and tables and counters.” Jazz not looking at Dick as she said this, but up at the sky. Then she met him with eye contact again. “He scares me half to death.” A snort was heard from where Danny laid face down into the table. “He thinks its funny.” Jazz smiled. Dick raised a brow and then glanced at Babs. Barbara was gathering papers and stacking them, but gave a smile and shift of the brow in response. Danny stared at them, peaking above his arms where they laid. Danny liked Barbara okay. She did remind her of his sister, but more laid back. Jazz didn't know the meaning of chill. This Dick. Danny snorted to himself. He wasn't sure of. He didn't seem interested in his sister, but you never know. All he knew, that his head hurts now. He folded down his phone, that had stopped playing minutes ago. He flipped over the torn color page, lazily. Laying his head back down and started doodling on the back with a crayon. Snap. He hated crayons. --owo-- “So she was the one Jay saved.” Dick and Babs had separated themselves from Jazz and Danny to talk. Needing the privacy. “Yeah. She told me after she came in a few minutes late. She looked like she ran the rest of the way. Danny flopped face first into the floor.” Babs smiled. “Jaybird did say the kid reminded him of Damian. I think I see it, besides flopping onto the floor.” Dick chuckled. “I wonder if him and Damian would get along.” “If Damian doesn't try to kill him first.” Barbara chuckled. Dick sighed with a nod, then raised his head to look out the window of the back break room. “She so young though. She doesn't seem like the type to have one... that early.” “I was surprised to, but that's the joy of people right?” “If only it was always joy.” Dick shook his head, hating to know what happen to Jazz that left her that young with a kid. “And she goes to college?” “Yep. All on her own. She does have an uncle that she rely on from time to time, but prefers to make it on her own. All her paperwork checks out. Even had a name change. It seems she disowned her parents.” “That doesn't bode well.” Dick crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall. “There isn't any police reports, so I say it was a falling out. Or at least hope. But she's a nice girl and she handles her son surprisingly well.” “Can't help, but do a thorough background check, can we?” “I blame Bruce.” Babs and Dick chuckled. Barbara cleared her throat and continued, “I didn't dig too far. She's a psychology major and has been in the city for a few years now. Had jobs here and there. Lives near the narrows. Not pleasant area, but better than other places she's lived.” “Huh, I'll text Jay to let him know later. Kind of crazy she chose to move here though, has she lived here before?” Dick asked curiously. Barbara shook her head as she pointed for a bag of chips closer to where Dick stood. Dick took a moment then grabbed it, tossing the small bag to her. She caught it, and opened it. “No. They lived in a place called Amity Park all their life. I asked her the first day she was here, she said its not that different. Amity just smaller. So take that as you will, I couldn't find much about Amity Park, but the government has a place there. So if I had to place a bet, is they're the reason its strange.” Babs took a chip and popped it into her mouth. “I thought you said you didn't dig too far?” Dick smiled. Babs just shrugged. “Didn't. That was just all easy access.” “Huh. So she just trying to get away from it then.” “My guess, and the reason I stopped. Some people deserve to live free of their past.” Barbara took her turn to glance out the window. “Yeah.” Dick looking up at the ceiling. He couldn't help, but think of his brother. Of mistakes made in the past. Mistakes Dick has done. Bruce has done. “Well, I just dropped by to give you the files B wanted you to check out. I'll let you go back to work. Can't leave the new girl hanging.” “She's doing fine. Honestly glad to have her here.” Barbara sounded like she wasn't in a hurry but she stuffed her face with a few more chips, before folding the bag and placing it on the table. She dusted herself off ready to go back into the fold. “I'll send you more things Danny does too. He does keep things entertaining. Yesterday after he came in from school, he just took a dictionary and spent the whole day finding out different ways to call his teacher out while answering his homework correctly.” Barbara chuckled. Dick whistled, “Jazz get upset?” “No, she helped him come up with the idea.” Dick got a laugh out of that. People really were surprising.

#danny phantom #dick grayson #barbara gordon #jazz fenton #jasmine fenton #danny fenton #de-aging #de-aged #dp x dc #fanfic #raising phantom

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