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joelhoney · 7 months

Text

#1 girl

pairing: dbf joel miller x afab/sorority sister reader

kenny here... tumblr Blipped me u guys. but i loved this too much to let it waste into nothingness. so here we go again take two using an ancient blog i never even used (from 2016 mind u...) enjoy!

You're too wrapped up in sorority duties to remember somebody's supposed to pick you up and drive you home tonight. One pissed-off Joel, curious conversation, and cowboy hat later, your evening takes an unexpected turn.

warnings: no outbreak au, dbf!joel, self gratuitous age gap (21/51), shy reader w/ some bursts of confidence, blowjob (m receiving), handjob (f receiving), dirty talk, praise, degradation too..., overuse of pet names... must b all

Of all the ways you imagined spending your fifth day of spring break, the last was in your dad’s best friend’s pickup truck with lame rock playing dryly through the console radio. In fact, last is generous—the idea itself had never even been conjured in your head.

The reason why is because you and your dad’s best friend—Mr. Miller—don’t typically interact beyond the confines of dinners, mandatory laughter, and the occasional one-on-one about something like boys in college, or classes in college, or the drive to college. Nothing much had changed when you moved the brief drive away to UT Austin, and between you everything’s remained the same, even now in your senior year.

For instance, a break—summer, spring, winter—would begin with your parents picking you up and shuttling off to the house, and end with an affair of the similar sort. Quickly into your first year, though, you learned to always insist you either leave school late or leave home early for spring break to take advantage of campus parties, especially because your senior year had cemented your shiny new position as President of Alpha Phi.

Any officer position in a sorority already came with a good deal of responsibility, let alone the presidency; and in addition to having recently turned twenty-one, the role required you to exhaust every drop of social battery, every ounce of skill you had at party hosting and alcohol obtaining without the use of a flimsy fake.

The eliminated nerves of using fakes made you much less nervous during parties, which often led to you letting more loose than usual. This party you’re in was thrown by some frat on campus, but this house is your last place of four; first two pregames, then a bar, then here. At some point at the bar your sisters had surprised you with a fun gift for the night, so you’re also wearing a pink sash, onto which rhinestones spelling out #1 Girl have been glued with precision.

Already you’re dizzy, wiping clammy fingers on the stiff cotton of your tight tank top, the curve of your tits spilling over the Alpha Phi logo. It’s small on you, the hem high above your navel and higher above the loose, low hem of your denim shorts. If they fell low enough on your hips, the high arch of your pink thong would’ve shown itself—maybe it did at some point, you’re too loopy to care.

“Oh, no,” you’re saying, but you can barely hear yourself over the rap song playing and everyone singing along, “no, I hate Jäger.” You’re shaking your head at your best friend and Vice President, Lia, who raises two handfuls of the opaque liquid. She shakes her head, sets them down on the table you’re leaning against.

“Lighten up, duuude. We’re taking them to celebrate your first and last spring break as President.”

“Aw, fine,” you muse loudly, giving in. “Only this once.” Out of obligation and genuine gratitude, you allow yourself to stomach your least favorite drink—then another, and another, a bit of each shot dribbling down the column of your throat and stickily onto your chest.

Lia snaps at the red bra strap that peeks out of your tank strap, laughing. “Settle down, Prez.” A partygoer, rowdy as they come, roughly deposits a sweaty cowboy hat onto your head and you yelp in surprise, steadying it. Whoever gave this, I’m keeping it! you holler, laughing as you feed yourself a shot of something your tongue enjoys more.

Absolut crowds the inside of your mouth when you take it back, interrupted only when a hand comes to shake at your shoulder. In your rush to turn, you nearly hit them with your hat.

It’s Cole, a good friend and member of the frat whose house you’re currently getting tipsy in. His eyes are rimmed and the whole air of him smells like weed. He offers one greeting: “Yo.” His eyes slide down to your chest, where your tugged-down tank has exposed a few inches of your red bra’s lacy cups.

“Hey,” you say, the syllable sounding sticky. “Up here, you ass. Jägerbomb?” You offer a smile.

“‘M a’ight. Listen, some…” He shakes his head, like he’s trying to place what he’s here to tell you. Then he nods, having remembered—“Right. Some old guy’s out front asking for you.”

“Asking for me? Old… guy?” Your eyebrows scrunch together, mind foggy. “My dad?” Shit. You’d completely forgotten they’d be picking you up today or tomorrow. Maybe they’d been waiting for hours—it’s one-thirty, the clock on the living room mantel reads.

“Nah, man, not your dad, this guy’s… he’s got a red pickup truck, um, he’s, like, he’s old looking.” He raises a hand above his own head. “Tall.” His voice is drawly with the weed high, but as soon as he said red pickup, you knew exactly who he was talking about. One look at your phone confirms it—five missed calls and a message, 11PM, sent by your dad: Joel’s in the area for work. He’s going out with buddies but can swing by the house to pick you up. I’m giving him your #.

“Fuck.” You blink. “Fuck! I gotta go.”

You never usually have to pack shit to go home, considering the drive isn’t too far. Briefly you consider making a detour to collect things from your sorority house, but you decide to sacrifice the laptop and the few important chargers. So, armed with only your phone, you wrench your way out of the crowd, a few goodbyes thrown in your direction and back.

The front door is open so the partygoers spill onto the front yard, intermittent conversation littering the area. Along the pavement, frat guys’ Civics and and Priuses are parked beside an old looking red pickup truck; leaned against it is—

“Mr. Miller,” you blurt out when you’re closer to him, voice steady (your mind is just as well, shocked back to lucidity from his presence). “I’m sorry. I had no idea you’d be picking me up today—tonight—” You heave a sigh, apologetic, refusing to meet his eyes. “Sorry.”

His arms are crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up to his elbows. Even from a few feet away you can make out the shape, the lines of muscle on his forearms. He looks tired, moody—more than usual—and your heart pangs with guilt at the idea that you could be the reason behind it. But despite your best—really, your best—efforts, your stomach still swoops the same way it did when you were seventeen and naive, enough to find next-door-neighbor Mr. Miller extremely handsome. Hell, extremely hot.

It didn’t make sense. You’d suspected your little crush would be that—an adolescent, childish thing, evaporating more and more into thin air with every drive made to campus. But he never stopped being handsome, never stopped his corny jokes and the pet names that got you warm every time you visited over break. You had plenty of eye candy on campus, athletes and gamers alike, and yes you’d been picky, but had managed to sleep with a select few—despite all of it, only the remnants of your fantasies of Mr. Miller satiated you when your hand creeps into the apex of your thighs late at night, lust wrangling shame into silence for a few minutes.

You blink and the train of thought is over—the real thing is here, eyebrows set low, mouth frowning.

“Kiddo,” he starts, his voice thin with exhaustion, “look, I’ve done my share of… drinkin’, and that. I get it. But you gotta…” He clicks his tongue, eyes looking your outfit up and down. “You gotta let me know, let your parents know, where you are, and if you’re okay. ‘Cause I really did not want to spend tonight drivin’ from house to bar, to bar to house, feelin’ like I was lookin’ all over Austin for you.”

“I know,” you supply quickly, nodding. Your hands, fidgety, find purchase on the fibres of the silk sash strung along your figure. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Miller. I didn’t check my phone the entire evening, and—”

“It’s okay.” He says, nonchalant, lifting himself off the side of the car to walk to the drivers’ side. Gruffly, he adds, “Car.”

You’re quick to tug the door open, settling yourself on the passenger seat and breathing nervously. Your legs are littered with body glitter, your chest with the tack of Jäger. You spot him outside, his walk slow. He’s annoyed—rightfully so—stopping just shy of the door to pinch at the bridge of his nose, his lips miming a slow exhale. When he finally wrangles himself to sit, it’s quiet for a minute, then another.

“Y’have fun?” He starts the car, thrumming it to life. You nod, then offer a verbal answer—yeah. He nods, wiping a palm over his face. “What were you up to?”

“I, um… I organized a pregame for my sorority.” You toy with the rogue strands of denim of your shorts. “We went to a bar, after… then another… then, well.” You gulp. “Here.” The last question escapes you in a shaky, breathy squeak. “And you?”

“Hah, sure, kid. Had some contractor thing, half an hour from here. Then drinks with a coupl’a buddies from work. Could’ve been home by eleven-thirty,” he says roughly, driving through the still-vibrant streets of campus, “but it’s nearin’ two and I’m on a college campus.” The urge to apologize bubbles at your lips, high in your stomach, but you remain quiet. After a few stretches of dry silence, he asks again. “That party must’ve been real fun for you to leave your old man—and me—on radio silence, wun’nit?”

“Sure,” you manage, stammering. “We were celebrating my sorority presidency.” The dark scenery of Austin blurs past.

“Oh, sorority presidency,” he repeats, both teasing and genuinely curious. “I did hear your dad mention you were in Alpha Phi, s’that right?” You nod. “What’s that, then? Do presidents get cowboy hats?”

Your face grows hot, hands reaching up to clutch at the rim of the hat atop your head. “No, this—somebody put it—it was a joke, Mr. Miller.” A huffy laugh escapes you. “Sorry.”

“Sweetheart,” he says, and you wrench the reminder he’s 51 he’s 51 he’s 51 through your head while he pauses, “‘m drivin’ you around Austin late at night, and I’ve known you for your whole life. How ‘bout we drop the Mr. Miller act, alright?”

“Oh. Okay,” you say. His hands grip the steering wheel firmly, and your eyes wander to his arms, to how he’s basically stuffed into the shirt he’s wearing, big and broad and bulky. His eyes remain focused ahead, so you let yourself indulge a tad bit more—lower, to the material of his jeans. It’s dark in the truck, so you can’t see much, just the flex of his thighs. “Joel.”

“Attagirl.” You chew at the inside of your cheek, already feeling arousal simmering in you, low and dirty. You’re going to soak through this godforsaken thong. “Mind if I make a pit stop?” You shake your head profusely, watch as he pulls into a gas station parking lot. “Want anythin’, girl?”

“N—” your lips form, but you scrap your original answer. “Gum, if they have it.”

“Be damned if they don’t.” He slams the door shut and you watch him enter the store, watch him through the glass panels. He’s so broad. You’d nearly completely forgotten how stupidly you liked him, and now it’s coming, throttling back full-force, especially with the thrilling aspect of it possibly coming to fruition. You are, after all, an adult. And so is he, paying for his shit with a tight-lipped expression, arms crossed again, arms big and—Jesus.

You squeeze your thighs together, willing yourself to get your shit in place when he pulls the door open again, his eyes scanning your seated figure. He tosses you the packet of gum, and you respond with a sweet thank you, Mr. M—Joel, and you fiddle with the packaging as he starts the car again, driving until scenery grows more and more familiar, closer to home.

“By the way,” he says, voice husky with the unuse of not talking for a while. “Think it’s best you spend the night at my house tonight, kid. It’s late. Later than late.” 2:44, the console digital clock reads in blinky red text. “Your parents don't want the door rattlin’ open at this hour, so I’ll let you in the guest room.”

“Oh,” you say. “Sure.”

“D’you have a change of clothes?” He asks, even if he knows you climbed into the seat with nothing but your phone and a cowboy hat. You shake your head and he tsks. “You’re barely covered, sweetheart. Best be careful walkin’ around when the night’s this chilly.”

Barely covered. You think of every possible response, but what leaves your glossed lips is the riskiest: “What do you mean, barely covered?”

You figure if he starts saying shit like what are you insinuatin’, kiddo? You better sleep at yours tonight instead, it’s an easy out—you’re turning the corner onto your street now, and your stomach is boiling with nerves, sticky and anticipatory. “I jus’ mean… it shows a lotta skin.”

“It’s sorority merch, Joel,” you reply, half-amused and half-defensive.

“No, I”—he sighs, like he wants to backtrack what he’s just said—“I know, but… always worth somethin’ to be careful. Might catch a cold with all that leg… all that—you—showin’.” He parks in front of his house, this sizey, homey thing, and your heart flips knowing how familiar this place has been to you your entire life.

“I’m not going to wear winter gear to a spring break frat party.” You’re bolder, suddenly, but even if the statement is, your voice is level, meek, even. Joel nods, as if admitting defeat, and gets out of the car first; you follow, sneakers crunching against the asphalt as you follow him into the house.

“I hope,” he starts when you’re stationed beside him at the door, “I didn’t… offend you. I was jus’ concerned, is all.” Then he’s stoic again, slipping inside, straight to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water. He flicks a yellow light on and you squint when you get there, rubbing at your eyes to prevent them from aching.

You’re still rubbing at them when his gaze drops from your fussed-up hair and askew hat down to the shiny surface of your chest. Your goddamn top leaves him nothing to the imagination, your tits spilling out of it scandalously. The low cut even lets your bra peek through, red and bright and hey, you show up from college wearing these large university shirts and sweatpants—not this, never this. And your shorts, the way they’re really just a fucking belt, starting low on your hips and cut off high above your thighs.

Alpha Phi, the pink text on your white top reads on the left chest area. Right where your tits curve into the top, the slogan is printed: Union hand in hand. God, sororities and their fucking… quotable bullshit. And don’t get him started on the sash, this cutesy, frilly thing he wants to loop around your wrists so he can fuck you over the counter. He knows he can’t—it’s so wrong, so wrong. He’s known your dad for ages.

But you… you're so tempting, a little minx, chirping Mr. Miller all sweet and apologetic, chest out on full display. He blinks when he hears your voice filter through the fog in his head. “—off?”

“What was that, sweetheart?” His eyes meet yours again and he feels a twinge of embarrassment at the way your bashfulness has somewhat melted to give way to the clear amusement on your face. You must’ve spotted the way he ogled you; he wasn’t exactly trying his hardest to be subtle, unfortunately.

“D’you have something I can use to wipe myself off?” You gesture to your sticky collarbone area. “I got Jäger all over myself. Can’t handle the stuff.” You grimace at the memory, and he goes to grab a wet wipe; while waiting, you hoist yourself up onto the counter, bare legs swinging.

Joel turns to toss you the packet of wipes, but his throat dries before he can even call your name out. Your back is to him, and clearly you’re waiting for his return—you’ve busied yourself by sitting on his counter and letting the hot pink lace of your thong rise above the waistline of your shorts. Lord have mercy, he thinks to himself, adjusting his jeans as he walks back over to you.

“Wipes,” he says roughly, not anything else.

You accept the packet and smile shyly. “Can you…” you pause, the implication hovering over both of you, heavy. “Wait for me?” He nods, inviting. Warm. And he watches, inviting but not very warm anymore, the way you wipe over the expanse of your chest, over the curve of your tits, every other part of you dusted in glitter.

“So,” you say again. “Since we’re on first name basis now, Joel, I, um—I hope it’s okay to ask questions.”

“Sounds reasonable. Go for it,” he accepts.

“When’s the last time you went to a party?” Your smile is mischievous.

He chuckles, a huff of air. “...Long, long ago, kid. Back in my day, partyin’ meant beer, maybe a little weed… not that I'm complaining there, you understand.” He nods resolutely. “These days, a quiet home-cooked meal with just the people I really care about… is a party.”

“Wow, what an old guy answer,” you giggle. “Back in youuuur day.” Your raspy, honeyed voice wraps around the your with a teasing lilt.

“Oh, I’m old now, am I?” His stoic demeanor chips away when he laughs. “That makes you what, sweetheart? You’re barely a pup.”

At his words—at the utterance of pup—you roll your eyes and try to shift your seating so your thong doesn’t stick to your folds. “Okay, fine, next.” You’re not even wiping anymore, the material wrung into your fingers, which lay in a fist by your side. “When’s the last time you got shitfaced?”

He gives a grimace of a smile. “Aw… boy, it's been a while.” He comes closer, going from leaning on the opposite drawers to right beside you on the counter. You’re sitting and he’s leaning but still he’s taller, just a bit level. “But there was that one time back in my more adventurous days, when I was younger. A bachelor party wh… well, the details don't really bear talkin’ ‘bout in polite conversation.” He raises his eyebrows. “Why ya askin’ all this? What’s will all the last times?”

“I’m curious, is all.” You smile, leaning back; if his eyes drop just a bit, he’ll see right through your top, maybe even underneath the cup of your bra. “Okay, fine one last… last time.” You giggle, breathy. “When’s the last time you… had sex?”

The air shifts, and Joel clears his throat before chuckling. “S’none of your business, young lady. A gentleman is not raised to kiss and tell.”

“Oh, but he gets shitfaced n’ tells?” You test, pouting and leaning closer toward him so you can quiet your voice. “Come on. I won’t tell anyone I even asked.”

He sighs, contemplating. “Well… it’s been a while.” He gets his fair share of lays, when he goes out to bars with friends or the rare date, but nothing too drastic. It has been a few months. “But you didn’t hear that from me, understood? Now, let’s drop it.”

But you don’t drop it, you brat. “You’re like the born again 40-year-old virgin,” you tease smoothly.

“Try 51, honey,” he grunts out, depositing your dry wipes at the disposal across you. He turns back around, restrained.

“And what, you don’t wanna change that?” No, he thinks—what he wants is to take you over the counter ’til you’re sobbing and sore.

“Hey now, don’t think I don’t think about it sometimes. But I jus’—I don't wanna get involved with no one, even though... Hell, if I met the right person, I might just change my mind. Ain’t that the way it goes?”

“That’s such an antiquated view of sex,” you quip boldly, pressing your arms to your sides. “What happened to just having one good fuck?”

His eyes flicker down then up. “Well, hey. Slow down with the cursin’, sweetheart. And what in the hell makes you think I don’t do that?” He crosses his arms, offering a raised eyebrow and an insufferably smug smile.

“You didn’t necessarily object when I called you a twice-over virgin.”

He chuckles. “There’s more than one way to let it all out, my girl. You don’t have to just go all in to hit the spot.” The thought of him using his own—or some girl’s, actually, hand, throat… to get off, gets you all hot. You want to be that girl. His girl.

“Like how?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“Old man like myself probably can’t offer tricks you’ll find… useful.” He grunts, prepares to go upstairs. He reaches over you for the packet of wipes and your proximity urges him to stop, savor the closeness before the rational part of him reminds him you’re his best mate’s daughter.

“Okay, fine,” you say sweetly, voice much quieter—reserved just for the space between you two. “One last, then.”

Mmm, he huffs affirmatively, greenlighting your request. Impatient.

“Since when did old men do that?” You ask, inquisitive, placing emphasis on his self-proclaimed old man title.

“What? Entertain l’il minxes like yourself?” He responds, intending to break your newly-built façade of smugness.

“No,” you respond coolly. “Pack nine inches.” Then you’re clambering off the counter and walking to the stairs. He inhales sharply at the sudden vulgarity of your words, watches every move, every little bounce of your pert ass under the tiny shorts, the wave of your hair, every flex of the ridden-up lace thong against your back.

You turn briefly. “Coming or what?” And then you slip upstairs.

He hears the pad of your footsteps grow quiet and shuts his eyes, letting his composure waver in your absence.

Had he known Harold’s little girl would turn out to be the world’s biggest fucking tease—Jesus Christ. “Lord,” he rasps under his breath, repeating a mantra, holding back the urge to palm himself through his jeans. “Lord, have mercy.” Then he follows you, already spotting something different—the open door at the end of the hall.

His open door. It’s the one that directly mirrors your parents’, a revelation they all had a good laugh at. Sometimes if a matter was so pressing, a well-aimed pebble to the glass window would get Joel’s attention well enough. The lights are flicked on, cool-warm, in his bedroom. You’re in his bedroom.

Or you’re not. He walks in to find no trace of you, save for the scuffed white sneakers by the doorframe. He toes off his own boots and spots the walk-in closet light’s also been flicked on.

“Christ, you’re quick. You’re s’posed to be in the guest room.” He gestures vaguely to the one on the left side of the hall, even if you can’t see him.

“I had to pee. And I needed something to sleep in,” you say politely from inside. He grunts softly to himself at the thought of you undressing in there, the thought of you pulling on something of his.

“Get out of there,” he orders. “I’ll get you somethin’.” Under his breath he mutters, “S’my goddamn closet.”

You chirp okay but he adds anyway: “Hurry, out.”

So you do follow him, even follow the order to hurry, because you’re hasty in your exit, clutching the cowboy hat to your chest. “Sit.” He points to the bed, watches you set the hat next to yourself gingerly. And one last time he asks the Lord for mercy, quietly and in his head, before shutting off every other rational thought that had stopped him tonight.

You follow suit, hat still clutched to your torso, and he slowly comes to stand just in front of you, your face level with the buckle of his leather belt. When you shift he catches sight of the side of your bra, the lace of it. Eyes cast to your bare thighs, you pipe up.

“By the way, Mr. Miller—Joel, I didn’t mean to say any of—I mean, I thought we could talk comfortably about it… that… stuff, but I took it too f—”

“You’re damn fuckin’ right you took it too far.”

He spits it out roughly, harshly. Like he’s scolding you. A zip of shock goes through you—you hadn’t heard him swear so loud before. Maybe he is. “I give you a free ride home at half past one, give you water, give you a place to sleep for the night knowin’ damn well your momma n’ dad would both have killed ya if you stepped foot in that house wearin’ next to nothing. What do I get in return?” He looks down at you, two rough fingers jerking your chin to look up at him.

“I—” you squeak, your voice and confidence betraying you. You’ve soaked through your panties at his sudden switch in behavior. Like you’d broken a dam.

“I get a brat… whorin’ herself out to me like I’m not over twice her age.” He tuts, like he really is disappointed, and your heart almost drops. “I get all these damn questions about sex, like you think I’ll break and fuck you on my kitchen counter.” He was considering it. “All the teasin’, all the skirtin’ around in a thong and a fuckin’…” He shakes your chin. “S’there even anythin’ in that head of yours, honey?”

Your mouth’d been open. You shut it and lick over your lips. “Yeah,” you defend weakly. His hand lowers to stroke at the column of your throat, then to hook under the tight strap of your bra, peeking out under the white of your top. He sidles it back and forth.

“S’this why you asked me all those dumb questions downstairs, huh, sweetheart? ‘Cause you wanted me to pull your top open and fawn over this”—he yanks the hat away, revealing your torso underneath—“little show o’yours?” Your cleavage is sinful, downright—perfect, perky, inviting him to mouth at your tits. Your sash sits prettily above them and he can’t help but pull at it, too, jolting you toward him.

“N—” you inhale sharply, letting him pull and push you around as he pleases. He observes the blinding glittery writing on the pink material and lets out a humorless, self-satisfied huff of laughter.

“Number… one… girl.” His rough thumb grazes over the divots of the rhinestones. “That’s jus’ about right, ain’t it?”

“Yes,” you reply, voice small.

“I’m not sure I agree, baby girl,” he drawls. His touch is precise—he knows exactly where to go, what he’s doing—but rough, dirty, almost, and the huge size of his hands don’t help to support otherwise. He tugs down your tank top so it’s tucked underneath your bra, and you yelp, making a move to cover yourself. He laughs again—“Sure, go all shy on me like you haven’t been showin’ yourself off to me all night. Knees.”

You get off quick, so quick you’re dizzy when you steady yourself on two knees. Two lithe hands make their way to his belt but he steps backward, revels in your evident confusion, clumsiness, the flush high on your cheekbones. “Buckle down, sweetheart.”

“But—”

“No goddamn buts. Listen to me.” He ends up being the one to make work of his belt, and while he talks you have to bite your lip to keep from going slack-jawed at the sight of him. You’d been kidding about the nine inches thing, but Christ he’s huge, strained against the tight denim. He’s thick even under the layers of clothing, and all you want to do is choke on him. “You’re gonna let me use that mouth t’get off, first thing,” he grunts, like this is all some chore to him, “because I am not goin’ to put my cock in my best mate’s daughter.”

“How about,” you croak lightly, “your fingers, then?”

“Jesu—we’ll see.” He tugs his cock out then, and he’s fucking huge, he really is, his tip angry and flushed and being rubbed along your lips, sticking them up with his precum. He sighs contentedly, humming low, the vibration sent straight to your half-open mouth. You suck on the tip of him, watch a slow smile form on his face. “That sash oughta say somethin’ else.”

Your silence grants elaboration. “Number one slut, maybe.” You shift on your thighs, trying to hide how aroused you are at his mean behavior. But he can tell, he can watch the way your blinking slows, the way your eyes glazed over, glassy and teary from trying to take more of him. He doesn’t tell you to slow down, or go faster; he just watches, eyebrows knitted, focused. “Budge up.”

A hand, big and calloused, threads through your hair and gives a tug, goading your mouth open so more of his cock slips past. Your jaw aches from the attempt alone, so you pull off before you start choking too much, tonguing at the parts of him you can’t reach—lower, until you’re laving at his balls. He grunts, pleasured, simmered down. Attagirl. Then you’re back, bobbing up and down, trying despite yourself to take all of him, until your eyes are watery and you’re spluttering, choked.

“Now this is…” He says, and it comes out in a contented little sigh, “a number one throat. Keep those pretty lips open, honey, ‘m gonna fuck them.”

You do, your achy jaw slacked as he begins bucking into your mouth, the sounds of your choking only spurring him on. He’s dominant, taking and taking, and you’re humiliated to find how wet you are, soaked through the lace of your thong and darkening the denim of your shorts. The tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat only gets him to thrust even faster, watching tears fall from your eyes, streaky with mascara. His best friend’s daughter, taking dick like a fucking champ.

He thrusts harder, each sound emitting a nasty, incoherent noise out of you, choked little gasps that have him harder each time. Gonna fuck this throat raw, he mutters. Since that’s what you wan’ed, ain’t it? You reach up, light fingers massaging his balls, and then his hips stutter, and with barely any warning, you feel his hot seed shoot into your throat, little satisfied groans leaving the man above you.

You swallow what you can, limited by his dick still in your mouth. When he pulls out you lap at the cum left behind, circle your tongue around your lips, make a whole show of it. You speak again, your voice raspy and spent: “Please, my turn?”

He lifts you up and smirks at the way you yelp in surprise, tossing you onto the bed and pulling you back onto your knees, your back to his chest. He wrangles your shorts off, gives your ass a smack as he pulls them down, enough to expose what’s underneath. The stiff material gathers just above your bent knees, restraining you from moving much.

“D’you know what,” he says, still sounding angry—like he’s lecturing you, stern, “I could’ve been in bed, wakin’ up at six to work… instead I gotta teach this little brat a fuckin’ lesson. Your old man not teach y’enough manners?” He tugs your bra down, thumbs roughly at your pebbled nipples, wrenching a moan out of you. He’s hard again, dick poking into your ass, and fuck you want him in you.

“He didn’t,” you sniffle, pitiful. “Y’gotta teach me, Daddy.”

“Oh, she likes that, don’t she?” He grumbles, like the title is annoying, juvenile. The way his cock twitches tells you otherwise. “Shut up, baby honey. I got this.” He reaches up your thighs and the ticklish, pleasurable sensation gets you hot.

Joel, you whimper, seizing in on yourself. He grabs your other arm, pulls it back toward him so you remain open and pliant. Please, wait.

“No time for waitin’, not when you spend hours prancin’ around like a little whore, sweetheart.” Without preamble, he’s running his fingers up your thighs again, not stopping this time until his fingers are pressing into your clit, rubbing over the thin, soaked fabric of your panties. “And you’re so fucking wet for me. My number one girl, ain’t you?”

“Yea,” you babble dumbly. “Your number one girl.”

“Thaaat’s right. My girl needs her needy cunt filled up, don’t she? By Daddy’s fat fingers.” You nod along, drawn in by the vulgarity of his words, the way he spits them out. You’ve spent several nights fantasizing how his big, rough hands would feel on you—and you’ve been outproven. He’s so fast, so skilled with his fingers; they feel delicious in you. And you can’t stop thinking about all of those girls he implied he’s slept with, the way they probably got to this first. Lucky bitches.

He’s gotten you so wet the entire night, even moreso now, that your pussy is making obscene squelching noises with each pump of his fingers, these nastily loud noises that humiliate you, that turn you on even more, that make you drip all onto Joel’s linen sheets. Fuck, you whimper. He swats at your ass. No swearing, he’s saying.

“Look up for me, honey. Up at the window.” Outside, the sun’s beginning to crawl over Austin, just the faint blues and yellows of early morning. You realize you know this because his curtain’s been pulled open—by him, earlier, before any of this even started, you assume. And the only other thing you can see other than the sky and the sliver of the neighborhood is your parents’ window.

“No,” you plead, looking down. He doesn’t let you, tugs you back up to look by your hair. He knows your parents won’t be up ’til seven-thirty latest. But you don’t know that, and for now, you don’t have to.

“What then, huh, sweetheart? When they go to check on the weather n’ they see their best friend poundin’ their young daughter? What’d they think?” You jerk away, overcome with pleasure and embarrassment at the imaginary situation. You feel his fingers pump in and out of you, filling you up. They’re probably thick and hot, glistening each time they come out. You’re tightening up; you’ll cum soon, make a mess on his hand, which already drips with slick. “So you better hurry. Better make a mess on me soon.”

“I am, I’m—I’m gonna,” you moan. You’re wrapped up in the way his fingers play you just the right way. You’re so close to the surface, and you’ve been wanting this for way too long, so you nod, let yourself get carried away by his words, let yourself give in, spreading your legs as wide as they can go as he fingerfucks you, working out the tension that’s been building up for forever.

“That’s my number one girl,” he grins into your neck, and you’re convulsing release onto his hand, wetting it even further. He wraps a hand around your waist, keeps you close to his figure, his erection at the small of your back. “That’s it, honey. Did so well for me.”

“I want it,” you say meekly. “Even if they see.”

He groans. “Sweetheart, you must think real low of me to believe I’d put my cock anywhere near Harold’s daughter’s pussy.”

You tug your panties fully down, just enough so they fall off on their own the rest of the way, and guide his slick hand behind yourself, pressing his finger first into your folds again, sensitive, and then up toward your tighter hole.

You feel his breath tighten behind you when you say: “How ‘bout there?”

#dbf!joel #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller tlou #the last of us #tlou x reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #pedro pascal x reader #tlou smut

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ew-selfish-art · 8 months

Text

Dp x DC AU: Danny didn't want to rely on his rogues, but Tucker's computer skills only got them so far and if the media black out continues... Danny knows it's not going to be pretty for them. Nightmares begin to plague the Justice League.

---

Danny gets back from a shitty conversation with Clockwork and in his frustration, accidentally sets off one of the new GIW sensors that his parents allowed to be installed in the lab. Their collaboration seemed to be going no where but when Danny had new holes blasted through him... it must be going somewhere. Damn it.

The commotion is loud enough that Jazz hears it from her room above the lab (he knows she listens to more than just the lab... it's cause she cares, even if it is a bit invasive.) and rushes in to play the distraction while Danny gets away. This time it works- the Drs. Fenton might have the worst aim in the city but they demand all shots cease if a civilian is nearby- Next time his mom might be aiming her gun at him and not the ground. Danny decides he'll buy Jazz a coffee on his way home.

But first, new holes. Yikes. That like, needs medical attention- He heads to Tucker's place and he's pretty sure Sam is already there.

"Danny! What the fuck, did Clockwork-" She starts, her meticulous cat eyeliner making her glare all the deeper.

"Nah, it's the stupid GIW sensor, the stupid one I told you guys about that has a spring lose in the back?"

"I thought we decided those weren't a concern?" Tucker looks him over, face covered in undisguised and very blatant concern.

"Yeah well, Clocky pissed me off so I forgot about them when I came back in through the lab portal-"

"you were supposed to be practicing making your own." Sam interrupts.

"-And when I did, the thing got knocked and I was swatted like immediately. Jazz launched herself into the lab so Mom made them stop shooting and it gave me enough time to get out." Danny continued to explain, ignoring his friend's 'i told you so' faces.

"Dude. We're pushing it close this week. Sam already had a confrontation with the lab guys and I already got blacklisted on my new persona accounts. We're like seriously threading the needle for getting caught." Tucker, pulls his glasses down to pinch the bridge of his nose and Danny and Sam both get what he's really saying. They need to lie low.

"What did CW say to piss you off?" Sam asks after a silent moment.

"He said nothing really, just like he always does, but insinuated I should try getting a rogue to help." Danny sighs.

"What, Like getting Ember to announce the GIW invasion on her tour? We already agreed that-" Sam is getting angry as she speaks so Tuck cuts her off- "It's a bad Idea. She is- They are all just as likely to get captured and hurt as you are if you go out of town." He comes to the same conclusion they've agreed on for weeks. No rogue involvement.

"Maybe we just need to sleep on it... Hey... wait." Danny sighs, but then his gears start to turn.

"Nocturn. We need Nocturn to help us. He can get the message out through dreams." Danny comes to the new conclusion and his friends look hesitant but at least like they're considering it.

"Isn't he an ancient? He's not going to help us for free." Tucker, ever the Egyptian god in these moments.

"Most people don't take their dreams literally." Sam, ever the skeptic in these moments.

"Yeah but, if they dream it enough times, and they're the right people to do something... they can look it up and then at least see that there is a problem?" Danny sounds hopeful and its the first time he's sounded that way in months.

"What, you're gunna give Batman nightmares?" Tucker snickers but Sam looks inspired.

"That's exactly what he's going to do. We need to haunt the Justice League. They'll see past the fake facade the GIW put up online and they'll be able to get the right legislation passed." Sam is practically buzzing.

"Okay, so lets get scheming- What do you get the primordial beast of the unconscious? Should I google 'what to get someone who has everything'? " Danny laughs.

_____

Bruce and his children rarely do feelings when they have breakfast in the morning after a night of separate patrols, but it seems as though the room is plagued with unease. Tim looks about as tired as ever, so his unease is probably attributable to WE board meetings, but its unlike the rest of his children to be so... disturbed. For some reason, after Alfred has excused them all from eating more than a few nibbles, they make it to the cave. Bruce is glad for the noise his children bring.

The nightmare's he's been having are following a dark plot. A town, a boy who looks like he was kin, and so, so much death. Bruce has had vivid dreams before in life, but this nightmare is... unreal. He tries to remind himself that it's just a nightmare.

When his JL emergency communicator goes off at the computer desk, he's not expecting it to be Dinah Lance. She and her Birds are typically wary of him in Gotham, even if they work well together in the League. He answers it like he would any Batman call, with silence.

"Bats, we have a problem. Any chance you've been having weird dreams about a kid getting experimented on or a town being burned down? Ghosts? Lazarus portals?" Dinah sounds exhausted, but Bruce snaps to her voice with rapt attention. As do all of his children.

"I-" Bruce takes a look around the room, everyone's heads except for Tim's nodding up and down with distress," We all have."

"Something tells me that they whole JL is. Everyone I've talked to this week has had a variation of the same dream. We either have a telepath trying to tell us something, or something even worse than that."

"I'll call emergency meeting, we need to collect details and try to determine the complete message."

"I'll send you what I've noted down so far, sans personal details of course, it's definitely in a town called Amity Park though. My client this morning saw the sign."

Batman grunts and the call ends. It's time to get to work.

----

When the Justice League finally arrives, the town is glowing, and everything feels like... sleep. smothering. snoring. smoking. smoldering.

And then, despite the exhaustion that echos within them, the trudge onwards. The noise of laser guns certainly wakes them up a bit.

#tim hasn't seen shit cause he never sleeps but he has the same energy level to get shit done #dc x dp crossover #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #dinah lance #nocturn haunts the JL #its up to you to get angsty with the demand he made in exchange for helping team phantom #nocturn is such a fun villain concept but like he's an information outlet so...#Lots could go right or wrong with this plan #tim drake x sleep is something i'll never ship tho #fentons working with GIW could be as benign or evil as wanted #is jazz in peril after this??? PERHAPS

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reticent-writer · 4 months

Note

Hiii, can you please write another fic about a teenage reader (16-18) and anybody from hazbin hotel. It can be about anything

HEloooo

Alastor x teen reader platonic

Headcannon by @ghostly-one: "During Alastor's absence, Reader went to the overlord meetings in his place"

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

*knock knock knock*

You heard as you groaned and pushed your head up from your pillow.

"It's me, Y/n." You could hear the radio static through your door, "I have an errand to run and would like for you to join me."

"I'll be down in a minute." You replied as you started to get up.

------

"Oh, boy whats the plan, boss?"

"I like your suits."

"What are the antlers for?"

"Can I touch your ~staff thing~?"

"Are those your ears? or is it your hair? I can't tell."

The egg boiz were annoying the fuck outta you and Alastor. If you knew they would've tagged along, you wouldn't have come even if you were going to an overlord meeting.

"Hark Alastor, Y/n. How fare thee this day." Zestial appeared from nowhere in front of the both of you.

"Good evening Zestial, It's nice to see you again." You greeted with a smile as Alastor quickly threatened the eggs.

"Greetings Zestial." Alastor said as the sinners around you three started to take notice and run.

"Ah, the weather doth become this fine day."

"Indeed. Looks like we might have some acid rain this afternoon."

"If our luck doth hold! I do revel in the screams. How art thou? It has been an age since thou hath graced us with thy presence. Y/n hast been in thy lodging since thee've been gone." Zestial looked to you with a pleased expression as he patted your shoulder before continuing his conversation with Alastor.

"Some hath spun wild tales of you falling into... Holy arms."

"Hahaha Oh, I just took a well-earned sabbatical. Nothing serious. Though it's fun to keep everyone of their toes."

"There too hath been rumour of thy involvement with the princess and her recent flight of fancy. TELL ME, how does thou fall in such folly." Zestial would've creeped you out if you weren't used to his (and Alastor's) over-the-top and old-timey ways.

"That is more me to know. But please do guess. I'd love to know the theories."

"T'would be grander folly by far to assume the workings of your mind, Alastor. Thou hath been naught but an enigma since thy manifested in this realm."

"Coming from someone as ancient as you, I take that as quite the compliment."

The three of you made it the the building where the meeting would be taking place as you and Zestial stepped into the elevator you waiting for Alastor to tell the eggs to wait for him before pressing the button.

-------

You sat in between Alastor and one of Carmilla's daughters.

"Welcome, Hell sovereign overlords. I've invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of out city. Together you own millions of souls. Souls at risk with the new extermination schedule. We need to discuss what can be done to minimize the impact to our interest." Carmilla said matter-of-factly. "Zestial, so good to see you, my friend."

"Enchanted as always Carmilla." He said as he sipped his tea.

Carmilla was about to look around the room when she spotted Alastor. The face that she made nearly made you laugh.

"Alastor?"

"Yes, I know I've been absent some time. I'm sure you've all been wondering." Alastor spoke like he'd been waiting 7 years just to say that.

"Not really. But welcome back in any case." She dismissed him. You could hear the static abruptly stop and had to bite your lip so you wouldn't laugh.

Once the meeting started you zoned out staring at the wall. To be honest you didn't really care about the meetings you were only there to show your face and now that Alastor is back it gave you less of a reason to care, but interesting things did happen quite often.

Like Velvette wanting a war with the exterminators.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

Zestial translation: It would be much more foolish to think that I understand how your mind works, Alastor. You have always been a mystery to me ever since you came into this world. (just thought it would be nice to add this.)

@ghostly-one

This is choppy and rushed but parade season is starting soon and I have a lot of performances before then too.

#child reader #x child reader #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #platonic #male reader #female reader #gn reader #reticent writes #reticent writer

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flamingpudding · 7 months

Text

Fictober23 Prompt: 30 - "Are you with me?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

A/N: I had absolutely no idea what to do with this one… and it shows I think… also can this be considered crackish?

"Danny you ready?"

"Give me a second Red!"

"No time! Going live in…"

"Wait wait wait!"

"3..."

"I got the popcorn!"

"2…"

"What about the block against the Justice League?!"

"1…"

"Red locked them out of the system. Now get ready!!"

"Go!"

Danny blinked as he got pushed by Superboy in front of the camera Impulse was standing behind. Behind them was Wonder Girl giving him a thumbs up with one hand and holding up giant flash cards with her other one.

"Uh Hi?"

Impulse raised an eyebrow and moved his hand in a keep going motion. Nervously Danny rubbed his neck. He looked left and right as if looking for something until his eyes focused back onto the camera. He coughed, took a deep breath, unnecessary in phantom form but helpful to calm down, before smiling and touching his hands together at their fingertips.

"Ahem. Hello, hi. Now you might be wondering. Who the fuck is that guy to interrupt my Saturday night movie program. I am Phantom, the newest member of Young Justice. King of the Ghost Zone also known as the Infinite Realms. The Dimension that's pretty much gluing our entire reality together." He gave the camera a nervous smile before he continued. "I am here to tell you on behalf of the entirety of the Infinite Realms. That you humans, of this dimension…"

Danny took a deep breath, from the corner of his eyes he saw Superboy giving another keep going sign while Red Robin was checking something on his laptop, making sure none of their mentors was trying to cut short their live feat over the entire world as well as that the subtitles worked for different language countries.

"...well you humans suck." Danny said as he breathed out, closing his eyes and pausing for a moment to let his message sink in. "Look, I get it. It's always hard finding something new, seeing change but come on. Anti-Ecto Acts? Was that necessary?"

He waved his hand around like he was thinking to find the right words while peaking at the flash card Wonder Girl was holding up.

"Like come on, can't you humans get your act together? Why hunt down an entire species just because they are different? You humans are already constantly at war with each other, aside from the idiocy of that, do you really have to add interdimensional war to that list?"

Danny chuckled nervously ignoring the additional flash card Impulse was now holding up to make him call out some of the humans' crimes against, the list mostly containing petty things Impulse didn't like. "Just so you know. I am barely keeping my council from declaring the dimensional one by the way." He added instead.

"Now you all are probably wondering what the hell this random ghost hero is talking about with no solution." He glanced to the side. " Well I have one."

Danny coughed into his hand and right his stance. "Dogs."

He held out his arms and Cujo appeared out of nowhere jumping into them. Off camera Wonder Girl coed. His ghost puppy had pretty much charmed all his hero friends since day one.

"They are loyal, awesome, cute and every beings best friend. Ancients even Superman has one!" Danny said smiling as he held up Cujo into the camera, he was glad he had remembered to infuse Red Robin's equipment with ectoplasm so the broadcast wouldn't get distorted.

"It's something we can all agree on. So, are you with me? Let's discard these stupid acts and all focus on the cuteness of little beings like him? How could anyone want to destroy his entire existence!"

"SHIT!" Red Robin cursed loudly off Camera and Danny blinked head turning towards his direction. "B got our location! Oracle ratted us out and is about to shut down the broadcast!"

"What this soon?! We didn't even get to the juicy parts yet!" Impulse complained loudly and Danny nervously faced the camera.

"Uh… Yea so.. No Anti-Ecto Acts and pro Dogs!" He summed up liften a encouraging fist up as Cujo barked happily in his arms.

"ETA 2! We need to bolt!" Red Robin shouted as Wonder Girl Rushed across the camera to open the window on the other side. Superboy was already picking up Red Robin and Impulse was gone before Red had even finished his sentence.

Phantom gave the camera one nervous smile as Cujo jumped out of his arms. "For the record. This broadcast was brought to you by sleep deprived Red and our opinion that the Justice League is taking too long!"

The next second phantom was seen rushing off to the side most likely following the others a moment later a crash was heard in the distance before the camera tilted and fell to the side. The broadcast was cut off at that point.

Unknown to the audience, a group of young hero's was rushing away from there not so secret broadcasting location, trying to escape their mentors that were not happy about their kids trying to take matters into their own hands just because 'the adults are taking to long'.

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festivalsofmargot · 1 year

Text

Sour Times

{Bully!Sebastian Sallow x Bullied!GN!Hufflepuff!}

Introduction: Slight deviation from the official HL story. Rather than everyone being intrigued at your unique arrival to Hogwarts, it’s a badge of dishonor to develop your magic so late. Hufflepuffs have a pathetic reputation, and you’ve been sorted into their house. The only reason Sebastian puts up with you is because he needs your ancient magic... and because he wants you all to himself. But he’d never tell, not when the whole school would start picking on and laughing at him like they did you. Yet, when he sees the way you look at Garreth Weasley, he wonders if everyone else’s approval means anything at all.

Word Count: ~ 6,350

Warnings: Kissing, Angst, Bullying

Author’s Note: I finally finished! 🥳 Us Hufflepuffs always get dunked on and I wanted to play around with that. I watched A Silent Voice and Normal People and couldn’t stop thinking about bully-to-lover scenarios. I’ve proofread so many times but I know I’m missing something, gonna do that thing where I get sneaky and edit here and there. Long one today so kick back, grab a snack, do hot people shit, enjoy 😘

Songs (if interested):

Sour Times - Portishead

Intro/Spectrum - HAELOS

September - Instrumental - Sparky Deathcap (oh... cara mia, how i love him)

Heather - Conan Gray

chance with you - mehro

Awaken - Dario Marianelli, Jack Liebeck, Benjamin Wallfisch

“We know that from time to time, there arise among human beings, people who seem to exude love as naturally as the sun gives out heat.”

- Alan W. Watts

As you meandered down the halls to your next class, holding your books with one hand and the other resting in your pocket, someone had grabbed your arm, tugging you behind a corner, causing you to drop your belongings. Whoever it was slammed your back into the wall, then propped up a hand next to your head to trap you in place.

You looked up and met the eyes of your abductor. This position wasn’t anything new to you, though it was new to be here with Sebastian Sallow.

Someone was always trying to mess with you or ruin your day. Being a late bloomer with magic and getting sorted into Hufflepuff hadn’t done you any favors. Other than that, there wasn’t anything wrong with you per se, it was just your social standing at Hogwarts. Even some Hufflepuffs wanted nothing to do with you, believing you made their house even more embarrassing to be in. Yet, that didn’t stop any of the student body from threatening you to do favors for them.

“Heard that you can wield ancient magic. Is it true?”

Your furrowed your brows, wondering how word could spread that quickly. But you suppose the magic you used on the troll in Hogsmeade hadn’t been very discreet. Too bad they gave all the credit to Natsai Onai, you might have made some friends with your troll takedown story.

Shifting your gaze down, you nodded your head.

“Prove it.” He held out a folded piece of parchment, the all too familiar blue glow emanating from it.

You took it from his hands and unfolded it to see rune symbols you’d encountered countless times. “Where did you get this?”

“Doesn’t matter, do you recognize those rune symbols?”

You nodded your head looking over the pages. “I see these whenever I need to unlock a door with ancient magic.”

Sebastian’s breath hitched and you finally met his heavy stare. He cleared his throat and regained his composure. “Exactly. And you’re going to come with me to open one I found.”

You folded the parchment back up and held it out to him. “Okay.”

He snatched it from your hands. “Don’t toy with me. If you don’t help me with this, I can make your life truly miserable here. I’m good friends with Ominis Gaunt, and he’s not afraid to use his family connections to -”

“I said okay.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at you, not knowing what you were playing at.

“Write me when you have a time and place.” You told him, exhausted.

He eyed you a moment longer, then stepped aside for you to leave. You picked up your books from the ground and kicked the dirt at your feet as you left, taking your time getting to your next class.

“So you’re going to help me? Just like that?” He called after you when he saw it was still just the two of you in the hall.

“Got nothing better to do.” You replied as you kept on your way.

Sebastian was the first person to ask for something and come along with you to get it done. Most people would just send you off, but there he was, exploring the cave and fighting giant spiders by your side.

That little outing turned out to be the first of many. Over time, Sebastian explained his sister’s curse and everything he had done to try to find a cure. He kept it to himself, but he was happy to find someone he could go through this journey with, someone who wasn’t trying to make him abandon hope, even if it was the Hogwarts outcast.

You made the mistake of assuming this meant you were friends in public. When you tried to approach him at Hogwarts, he looked at you as if you had grown horns. He caught sight of a few students whispering to each other and glancing your way. In a panic, he knocked the books from your hands, scattering them to the floor.

“Looks like the Hufflepuff had a little accident.” He jested loud enough for everyone around to hear. He walked away to meet up with some other Slytherin students who were in hysterics at what he had just done. He glanced back your way and it took everything in him to keep the amused look on his face. You were picking your books up off the floor and Garreth Weasley had come to help you. Sebastian noticed he had said something to cheer you up and it brought a smile to your face.

And then a thought surfaced in his head. I think I'd rather be the one who made you smile.

Sebastian’s public displays of discourtesy hadn’t let up. He felt awful, but he couldn’t stand the scrutiny he would get if he was seen with you. Just because he could see all these wonderful qualities in you, didn’t mean everyone else could. The Slytherins especially would give him a tough time. He would get defensive, spewing every excuse he could think of. “Don’t be daft. I only needed to see the Hufflepuff about charms class, nothing more.”

The guilt ate away at him. So when the two of you came across the scriptorium door that could only be opened by casting the cruciatus curse, he felt this could be his penance. But you refused to cast it on him.

He fisted the fabric of your shirt, jerking you towards him. “Dammit, why not?!” He demanded, incredulous. Dread arose in him, because he knew if he casted it on you he would be causing true agony. Everything he had done to you at Hogwarts was an act of rudeness, he never wanted to do anything that caused you pain in this way.

“Because I wouldn’t mean it.”

His face recoiled as if you had slapped him. He was unable to believe it. After all you’ve put up with, how could you not mean to harm him, how could you not want to? “I have been nothing but cruel to you, this is your chance to be cruel back! I know you hate me! I know you hate everyone!”

“I don’t hate you.” You placed your hands atop his that were gripping your shirt, in hopes it would calm him down. “Cast it on me, Sebastian. Get us out of here.”

Sebastian released your shirt, shoving you back. He turned away from you and rubbed a steadying hand down his face. Using the frustration he felt with you then, he spun to face you and recited, “Crucio!”

You fell to the floor, your screams of suffering echoed through his head.

Sebastian shot up in bed in a cold sweat, breathing coming out uneven. He rubbed his face in his hands and let out a shaky sigh. Ever since the scriptorium, he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep, the nightmare had kept replaying in his head.

You arrived back at the entrance of the Hufflepuff common room rather late in the night. It was passed curfew but you wanted to get all of Sirona’s lost letters back to her. Seeing the look on her face had made missing out on a few hours of sleep all worth it.

You startled when you saw a figure move out from the darkness. It was Sebastian, his eyes were red and puffy, dark circles had formed under them.

“Sebast -”

“Why’d you have me do it?” He demanded, his voice cracking. “Why couldn’t you -” He couldn’t stop the tears that fell. His shoulders began to shake as breathy sobs escaped him.

You ran up and pulled him into your arms, gently guiding his head down to your shoulder, and he let himself cry. “I’m okay. Everything’s okay.” You soothed.

He was the one who casted crucio on you, yet here you were comforting him. He felt worthless. You weren’t like anyone he had ever met. You never wanted anything in return, doing things purely out of the kindness of your heart even if it nearly killed you. He couldn’t grasp such a concept, and it overwhelmed him.

He went on his knees before you and took your hand into both of his. “Cast it on me. Please, it’s the only way I can make it all right. I did the wrong thing and I need to make it all right.” He pleaded.

You knelt on the ground with him, meeting his level. You pulled your hand from his and placed it on his cheek. You tried to meet his eyes. “Look at me. I will never do that to you.”

Though you meant for the words to comfort him, they felt like a knife to his chest. He smacked your hand away and scrambled to his feet, running out of sight.

He knew it then as he arrived back at his dorm room, and he let himself feel it entirely, as if he were punishing himself. He was in love with you, and he could never have you, not after everything he had done.

In the time that followed, Sebastian had wanted to act as if the scriptorium and his confrontation with you never happened. You kept an eye on him but went along with it. Your discreet meetings and his insults towards you resumed.

When Sebastian asked to meet briefly about information on a relic he had found in Salazar Slytherin’s spellbook, it was a good day for the both of you.

Your face was bright and ecstatic as you looked down at the thunderbrew potion in your hands. “It took me forever to get the ingredients, but I think I got a knack for brewing.” You couldn’t help but gush to Sebastian, trying to stifle your giggles and keep your voice low so no one around the two of you could hear.

Sebastian didn’t dare let it grow, but a charmed smile tugged at the corner of his lips. If he was going to react to you, he'd try to make it look like you were a nuisance to be around.

“Do you think if - well, I mean - what would you think if -” You began timidly, biting at your lip. Sebastian didn’t look at you, but he listened close, clinging to each word you left him on. “Do you think Garreth would be impressed if I showed him?”

And away went any temptation to smile, he opened the book in his hand to act like he was reading. He discovered that to be the consequence whenever he found himself being pulled towards you, he’d always get slapped with the reality that you were pulled towards Garreth. The other day, when everyone was standing around waiting for Defense Against the Dark Arts class to start, he caught sight of you looking out the window, the sunlight painted your features bewitchingly. He made his way over and saw you were watching Garreth playing Summoner’s Court. “Day dreaming you were actually useful in this class, Hufflepuff?” He had taunted. He’d claim it was to keep up the act but it was really in response to the hurt he felt. The pain only worsened when you glanced his way fleetingly and went right back to watching Garreth with undivided attention.

You noted his silence and felt stupid for even bringing it up to him. “Sorry, I got carried away. I know you don’t care.”

“I think Weasley will soil his breeches no matter what potion you show him.” He said bitterly. “Why do you think he’s so great anyway?”

You didn’t answer and Sebastian looked up to see your gaze following the red headed boy as he walked by, laughing along with a few other students. His stomach twisted uncomfortably and he looked back down to his book, eyes scanning the words but not taking them in.

“He’s the only person who’s been nice to me since day one. But I think that’s just who he is, looks like he’s nice to everyone.” You said the last part more to yourself. A chill went through the air and you began to shiver, seemingly too distracted to care due to where your attention laid.

“Where are your robes?” Sebastian tried to keep his voice monotone.

“Just forgot them is all.” Your eyes followed Garreth until he stopped walking to speak with some of his friends.

“Here. Take mine.” Sebastian exhaled as if he were annoyed, but he wasn’t. He was in earnest at the thought of wrapping you up in his robes.

You turned your attention back to him and shook your head. “No no, people will see. It’s alright.” Gaze returning to Garreth.

Sebastian stopped, robes halfway down his arms, then he shrugged them back on. “Oh... right.” He watched you shift back and forth on your feet, your fingers tapping against the potion’s flask. He could see the ache to run to the Gryffindor clear as day on your face.

“Send me an owl if anything else comes up for the relic.” You said without looking at him, and made your way over to Garreth.

He knew he should turn the other way and act like he was never speaking to you in the first place, as he always did after your furtive meetups. Yet his eyes remained glued to your form. As he watched you talking to Garreth with a beaming smile, laughing along with him as you showed him your thunderbrew potion, insurmountable heartache filled his chest.

It had finally hit him how he couldn’t care less what people thought, they didn’t even know you. No one knew you like he did, especially not Weasley. If everyone saw you through his eyes, they could easily see you were one of the most capable people at Hogwarts. If all it took to win you over was being kind to you since the beginning, he wanted to kick himself. I’ve been the biggest prat.

How could he have treated you the way he had? Asking for your help all this time, but not wanting to be seen with you in public. He had been nothing short of a coward. His fear of what others thought had led him to lose any chance with you. You were the one that’s helped him through this nightmare of a curse on his sister, you were the one willing to take on immense agony in the scriptorium for him, you were the one he yearned for. He could say the same for none of these people.

The blood drained from Sebastian’s face when he witnessed Garreth slip off his Gryffindor robes and put them on you. It was as if the wind was knocked out of him, his breathing started coming out shallow. He told himself to get out of there.

The first place he could think of was his dorm. He had tunnel vision the whole way there, a few students had asked if he was feeling alright as he passed. He waved them off, saying something about a potion brew gone wrong, he couldn’t fully remember. When he got to his dorm room, he burst through the door and sat at the edge of his bed. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and tried to steady his breathing. As soon as the sick feeling in his stomach started to dissipate, he laid back, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“What’s gotten into you?” Ominis asked, sitting himself on his own bed.

It took Sebastian a moment to be able to speak. He swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath. “Nothing, I’m fine. Just feeling a little sick is all.”

“Is this about the Hufflepuff who helped us in the sciptorium?”

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, and that was the only answer Ominis needed.

“Nobody cares you know. Sure it’s fun to make fun of a Hufflepuff, that’s nothing new. And one that developed their magic so late? Easy target. But in the end, no one cares. After everything that’s happened, it’s no surprise you feel the way you do.” Ominis never hesitated to call people out, but every now and then he had a way of saying what needed to be said without making someone feel too ashamed.

Sebastian should have known this, he should have had this conversation with himself before it could have gotten this far. He felt like such a child then, laying in his bed, pouting at the predicament he put himself in. But it was hard to pick himself back up, he felt his relationship with you was unsalvageable at this point and it was his fault. He was the nuisance you had to put up with because of that pesky Hufflepuff loyalty of yours, and Garreth was your escape. Garreth could make you happy just by being in your line of sight. He could only dream of having that effect on you at this point.

Sebastian had searched for you all day but to no avail. As a last resort, he made his way to the undercroft, he cringed thinking back on the time he first showed it to you. “I’m only showing you this place so we won’t be seen working together. You’re not welcome here if I’m not here.” It wasn’t true, but how would you have ever known otherwise? He had been so cruel to you, it was no wonder you wanted to run into Garreth’s arms. He had practically shoved you his way.

The sound of sniffling stopped him in his tracks. He pressed forward cautiously and saw you were sitting on the floor against the wall with your head down.

“What’s happened?” Sebastian strode up and knelt before you.

“Oh! Sebastian.” You startled. “I - I’m sorry, I’ll leave. Just allergies. Came down here to escape all that pollen.” You wiped at your face quickly, he could tell your eyes were puffy from crying.

His inner voice was screaming at him that this was his chance, as of that moment he could start taking steps in the right direction with you. He could become the person you wanted, slowly but surely. “Talk to me.” He sat beside you and took your hand in his, he began stroking it with his thumb in hopes it gave you some comfort.

You were taken aback by his actions, but then surmised that was probably how much he pitied you. You felt humiliated at the thought. The Hufflepuff got caught crying like a sad baby bird in the rain, who wouldn’t feel bad? You pulled your hand free from his. “It’s nothing, I just needed a moment. I’m truly sorry I came down here without you, I couldn’t think of any other place. I - I panicked.” You got up and began your escape out. “It won’t happen again.”

Sebastian tripped over himself as he went to chase after you. He ran up and wrapped his arms around you from behind, holding you in place. “Don’t go. Please, talk to me.”

His touch felt wrong to you and you slid free from his embrace. You didn’t feel safe with Sebastian, you didn’t feel safe with anyone at Hogwarts for that matter. But the look on his face had convinced you somewhat he wanted to know what was wrong. “I just had a bad day.”

He took a step towards you, hoping you would keep going.

You rolled your eyes at the foolishness you felt. “I worked up the courage to speak to Garreth about how I felt and -” You stopped and shook your head. “This is stupid, I don’t know why I’m telling you this -”

“What did he do?” His voice was direct, body stiffening.

You let out a sigh, hating that you were revisiting the memory. You looked down and began twiddling your thumbs. “I told Garreth how I felt and asked him on a date to The Three Broomsticks. He laughed in my face and said no. Said he’d be friendly with me in public but he wasn’t going to be seen on a date with me. And then he said we could still have some fun in private together.” You recalled the incident, disgusted. “But what else should I have expected? You said it yourself, no one wants to be seen with someone like me.”

Sebastian had never seen your features turn so harsh, and he hadn’t hated himself more than he did in that moment. "I never should have said that to you. Please, you have to know I never meant it.”

Your eyes didn’t meet his, he could tell you were still angry, not just with him, but with the world. He was surprised you didn’t get to this point sooner. Hufflepuffs really could put up with a lot before they’d had enough.

Sure, he wanted you to have feelings for him, but more than anything he wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him. Seeing your hurt expression then, he wanted to step up more than ever. “No good prick.” Sebastian dug his heels in the ground to storm out of the undercroft. “I’m going to kill him.”

Your eyes went wide. “What? No, it’s alright! Forget I said anything!” You grabbed his wrist trying to hold him back, but he just kept walking, dragging you along with him. “W - What happened to staying out of each other’s lives? You don’t owe me anything, Sebastian! Just drop it!”

Sebastian stopped to face you, he used the grip you had on his wrist and yanked you to him. He steadied you as you crashed into him, taking your face in his other hand and placing his lips atop yours. He wanted to convey everything he felt for you in that kiss, every thank you he should have said, every apology he should have made. You didn’t deserve any of the treatment you got at Hogwarts, especially from him.

His brows furrowed as he deepened the kiss. He tried to be tender, but the urgency was what took over with how he moved his lips against yours. Your grip fell from his wrist in shock and he used his now free hand to grab your waist and pull you flush to him. He felt you kiss him back, but with hesitancy, and then you pushed him away.

He looked at your stunned expression, “This feels wrong.” You whispered.

Shoving down the sting he felt at your rejection, he strode out of the undercroft, leaving you standing there, dumbfounded.

Sebastian spotted Garreth in the middle of the quidditch field, joking around with some friends. “Oi, Weasley!” He called as he strode up to the red head.

Garreth turned away from his group. “Yeah? What is it, Sall-” His words were cutoff when Sebastian punched him square in the jaw. He shot a hand up to where the throbbing began to kick in. “What in Merlin’s na - OOMF!” Sebastian rammed into his gut, tackling him to the ground. It finally kicked in what was happening and Garreth began to shove and punch back. Nearby students gathered around in a circle, hooting and hollering for them to keep going.

“Show that Gryffindor how it’s done, Sallow!”

“Get him good, Weasley!”

“Levioso!” Sebastian and Garreth were pulled apart and lifted into the air at Madam Kogawa’s spell cast. The two boys eyed each other, bruised and bloody, wanting to go back at it as she approached.

“I see detentions are in order.”

When Garreth confronted him, demanding what his deal was, Sebastian had dug into him. Shoving his finger into his chest, telling him he didn’t deserve someone like you.

“Oh please, as if you’re not doing the exact same thing. Everyone sees the ‘secret’ meetings the two of you have. I hardly think you’re the person to fault me.”

Sebastian couldn’t say anything in retaliation, because he was right. He deserved every punch and kick Weasley landed. But things were different now, and he was going to stop at nothing to prove it to you.

Sebastian leaned against the kegs just outside the Hufflepuff common room. He stood up straight when the entrance opened and you stepped out. Your gaze landed on him and your face twisted at his state.

“Are you alright?” You ran up to him and gently grabbed his chin to begin examining his bruising. Remembering you two weren’t in private, you yanked your hand back. “Sorry.” You glanced around to make sure no one had seen. It pained him, that after all the time you spent together, this was the habit he enforced in you. He grabbed at your hand and placed it against his cheek.

“I’m fine.” He thought about his next words carefully. “I'm not ashamed to be seen with you.” He began. “I’m so sorry I ever told you I was. I haven’t been there for you. If I could go back, I’d do it all differently. I really would.”

You avoided his gaze and looked down, pulling your hand away. His touch still felt wrong, and thinking about his kiss in the undercroft made you just as uneasy. Everything was so backwards, your mind couldn’t keep up. Not long ago, Garreth was the one being kind to you while Sebastian was itching to get as far away from you as possible. And now, Garreth had you repulsed and Sebastian had an avid interest to be by your side. You were in a constant state of confusion and had a strange desire for things to go back to how they were.

“Sebastian...” Your defenses went up as he moved closer to you, wanting to show you he was listening. “I’m going to be honest, I don’t believe you. All year you’ve dreaded being around me and now I’m supposed to believe your feelings changed just like that?”

Sebastian nodded his head, seeing what you were saying. He shouldn’t have expected you to be okay with all this just because he said so. “I understand. I’ve been awful to you. But I can make it all up to you, you’ll see. I can be what you want.”

You tried to search his eyes for some sort of reason for this shift in him, still not really taking in his words. “I think I need some space.” You were sick of boys playing with your feelings like this. There was only so much you could take. Pretty impressive trait of Hufflepuffs, anyone else would have felt worn thin ages ago.

Sebastian swallowed thickly and nodded his head. He forced a polite smile and left at the nearest floo.

He needs his space too. You thought. That way he’ll get over these feelings he supposedly has for you. You didn’t believe him for a second. You’ve seen other students swooning over each other. It definitely wasn’t what was happening between you and Sebastian Sallow. The only experiences you’ve had with him were secret meetings and him getting humiliated if someone associated the two of you together. He expected all that to just go away with one secret kiss? It wasn’t going to happen.

Maybe he went after someone else and they rejected him, and he was so desperate for affection he came to me. You concluded.

The days that followed, Sebastian kept his distance from you without really keeping his distance. Every morning, he got up early to get a flower from the fields surrounding Hogwarts, each one different than the day before. Whenever you got up from your desk or left your books unattended, he would cast the disillusionment spell on himself and place the flower in your book for you to stumble across later.

He didn’t need to see your reaction to it, but every now and then if you were in the same area, he’d be on the lookout for it. Sebastian watched from afar as you began looking through your book on a bench in the Transfiguration Courtyard. But his blood started to boil when he saw Garreth make his way over and sit down next to you.

You looked up from your book, a questioning look on your face.

Garreth was visibly nervous and wouldn’t meet your eyes. “I wanted to apologize for how I spoke to you the other day. My mother raised me better than that.”

You hummed as you looked across his features, noticing he was bruised up like Sebastian was. “What happened to you?”

Garreth scratched the back of his head. “Got some sense knocked into me by your friend, Sallow.”

“He’s not my friend.” You said plainly, trying to bring your attention back to your book. A part of you was annoyed Sebastian had actually followed through with going after Garreth, and another part was a little pleased the both of them landed strikes on the other.

He looked to your face then. “I really do like you, you know.” He confessed, and you returned his gaze. He was looking at you like he was sorry this wasn’t what he had said to you in the first place. “But I felt the pressure of everyone, and I told myself I should be embarrassed to be around you. But I’m not. Everyone else can sod off, I can see everything you’re doing even if they refuse to. You’re nothing short of incredible. I truly am sorry for what I said.”

You gave him a small nod. “Apology accepted.”

He smiled and let out a sigh of relief, then held out his hand. “Friends?”

You took it and shook. “Friends.”

He held your hand in his when you tried to pull away. “Don’t suppose that date to Three Broomsticks is still on the table?”

You scoffed but went silent when you saw he was serious. You shook your head and pulled your hand from his grasp.

“Right.” He looked down dejectedly. “Guess I deserved that, didn’t I?” He chuckled awkwardly, getting up and clearing his throat. “I’ll see you around then.” His voice was strained.

Sebastian watched as Garreth left you and made his way over to him. The red head gave him a cordial slap on the shoulder as he walked passed. “Looks like we both blew it, Sallow.”

You hated to admit it, but Sebastian was making some headway with you. It had been at least a few weeks since you told him you needed space, and he had given it to you. You thought it would be the easiest thing in the world for him to do, but he looked like he was struggling. Every time you caught each other’s eye, he looked like he was holding his breath, hoping that would be the day you’d approach him. You thought it’d wear off after a bit, and the distance between the two of you would have him come to his senses. But he seemed undeterred, just as dedicated as the day before if not more so.

You especially hated to admit that every time you found a flower in your books, the flutter in your chest would grow. Each time you needed to talk yourself down, because any day now Sebastian would give up and go back to only wanting to see you about his progress on getting a cure for Anne.

But then you’d think about how he kissed you. There was so much need in it. In the moment it felt off. But the more your revisited the memory, thinking back on how his lips moved against yours, you got this feeling of being genuinely wanted, perfectly safe. And that sense came from Sebastian Sallow of all people?

You watched him as he took notes in charms class. He was pretty good looking, wasn’t he? You came to notice these passed few weeks now that he was being kind to you.

He looked up from his notes and glanced your way. You held his gaze when he did, giving him a soft smile. His eyes grew wide and he became fidgety in his seat. He smiled back and his ears burned red. It was the most he’d gotten from you and he didn’t know how to handle it.

You looked back down to your notes and he looked back down at his, trying to contain his giddiness. He felt like he made a huge leap in progress and he couldn’t wait to keep going. It was just a smile, but it was the only sign he needed that he was headed in the right direction with you. He wondered if he should keep going with the flowers or step it up a bit. He wanted to respect your wishes and keep his distance, but he also wanted to do more for you.

He was so lost in thought, he didn’t notice you approach when class was dismissed. “Sebastian?”

He stiffened, panic flooding through him. He was mentally preparing to chase after you from afar, he didn’t think he’d have the right words to say face to face yet. But he willed himself to speak anyway. “Yes?”

“Walk with me to herbology?” You eyed him, like you were testing him.

Sebastian knew what you were doing, this would be the first time he’d be seen with you in public willingly and not act like he was being forced to speak with you. Bring it on. “Of course.” Sebastian grabbed your books and smiled at your surprised expression. “Come on then.”

You joined his side and as you walked with him, you noticed he wasn’t rushing. He was taking his time getting to your next class. You had to admit, you expected him to want to speed up the process to get it over with and minimize the amount of people who saw the two of you together. But instead, he let himself look smitten as he stood by your side.

The whispers and glances started up as the two of you walked along. He looked to you and noticed you didn’t seem quite as at ease as he was. He gave you a playful nudge with his shoulder and you couldn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. He was making butterflies dance in your stomach and a funny ache for him grew. You peeked back at him and the way he was smiling at you made you want to tug at his tie and have him kiss you senseless again. Calm down, don’t let him win you over yet. You lectured yourself.

When the two of you arrived in herbology, he made sure to grab a potting station next to yours. Professor Garlick called everyone up to grab some seeds for the day’s class. As you were about to go up with everyone else, he wrapped an arm around your waist to stop you. “I’ll get it.” He said in a low tone near your ear. His hand lingered and dragged across your waist until he was too far to touch you anymore. He shot you a smirk over his shoulder as he walked away.

That funny ache you felt turned into something simmering hot within you. When he came back with the mallowsweet seeds, he took your hand in his and placed them on your palm. His fingers dragged across your hand and you peered at him through your lashes.

“Be careful.” He said, releasing you and turning to his potting station. “You look like you want to kiss me.”

A burning sensation hit your cheeks and you turned to your own station. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Silly me then.”

The two of you focused, or at least tried to, on your pots before you. You planted the seeds and padded down the soil, then awaited further instruction from Professor Garlick. But you tuned her words out as you eyed Sebastian up and down. Thankfully, you were already experienced with mallowsweet, so you weren’t too concerned about falling behind.

Sebastian watched you through the corner of his eye, he could feel your eyes on him and it drove him mad. As soon as class was over, he was going to try to reenact the first time he demanded your help. Except this time when he pulled you into a hidden corner, there wouldn’t be as much talking. His jaw clenched at the anticipation.

You usually enjoyed herbology, but that day’s class was dragging on a little too long. Your mind billowed with thoughts of Sebastian’s lips and ideas of how you were going to get them back on yours.

“Class dismissed.” Professor Garlick sang. You and Sebastian immediately looked to one another, knowing exactly what you wanted to do, but unsure how you were going to get there.

“I think I -” You began, not really knowing where you were going to take your words. “I think I left something in the undercroft.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything as he grabbed your hand and pulled you along.

Once the two of you arrived in the undercroft, he closed the gate behind you and pressed you up against the nearest wall, slamming his mouth against yours. The two of you wanted to devour each other whole. A muffled moan escaped you and you cupped his face in your hands. His hands gripped your hips greedily as he tried to savor every sound he could get from you.

Unable to keep in one place long with so much of you available to him, he began kissing along your jaw, down your neck, below your ear. He could feel you quiver at his kisses and he wanted to do everything he could to keep you squirming.

You whimpered, and he knew he found the spot below your ear to be your weakness. “I... I think we left our books in herbology.” You breathed pleasantly as he kept at it.

Sebastian hummed as he continued his magic. “Such a shame.” He knew he still had a ways to go with you. No matter how long it would take him, he was going to make things right. But if he could tempt you into a kiss here and there along the way, he hoped you wouldn’t mind.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x gn reader #sebastian sallow angst #sebastian sallow x hufflepuff

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 2 months

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He’s Back (Angst/Fluff)

BTTS!Turtles x reader

A/N: I’ve been toying with this small idea for some time, and decided that today was the day to write it down, finally adding Back To The Sewers to my list! Takes place around the time the turtles return from the future to their own time💚🐢

Warnings: Spelling💚

He had been gone for a year now. Your turtle boyfriend had been gone for a year. And every single day of that year, had been painful for you, as you had no idea where he had gone. Or any of his family members for that matter. It was as if all five of them had just vanished into thin air that day a year ago. And every single day throughout that year, you and your boyfriend’s friends looked for him and his family everyday. You, April and Casey had overturned every single stone in New York City in your search. But no matter where you looked, none of you could find them. It went too far that you and April stayed in New York, and looked the city through three more times, while Casey traveled to Japan to look for them there. He even got into contact with the Ancient one, and asked Usagi to look through the Battle Nexus. But nothing. The turtles were gone. And you had no idea where your boyfriend was.

You, April and Casey never gave up your search for the turtles and Master Splinter. But after having looked through every possible place the three of you could think of, all three of you opted to stay closely around the lair, making sure that it was ready for the day they might come back. You and April looked out for their stuff, and made sure it was clean, while Casey would do runs every now again, beating up and questioning any Purple Dragons he met on his way. But they knew nothing. No one knew anything. It was truly as if the turtles had just upped and left. And you were left confused and scared, fearing what had happened to the man you loved.

But it wasn’t long before you and your friends would get closure and answers to your many questions.

You had just gotten home from a late night shift, almost collapsing on your couch, still in your work uniform. You were so tired that you didn’t even turn on the light to your apartment. Instead you curled up on your couch, pulling out your phone, and opening your photo album. With a heavy heart, you scrolled through the pictures of you and your boyfriend. Your happy times together, kisses, hugs and all sorts of goofy pictures. Your heart ached, remembering each story behind every picture. His laugh and all the fun you had. Oh, how you missed him. What you wouldn’t do to get him back. To know that he was safe and to have him in your arms again. You missed him so much.

As you sat there, looking through all those happy pictures you had saved in your camera roll, you got a call from April. You looked at her name on your screen in confusion. It wasn’t typical for April to call you at this time of the night. So with a puzzled expression, you answered the call, asking April what was going on.

“Someone has entered the lair”, April said. “The alert Donnie installed on my phone just started blaring. Me and Casey are on our way down there”.

“I’m coming too”, you said, hurrying up from the couch, suddenly feeling very awake. “Don’t wait for me”, you said, as you started to put your shoes back on with one hand. “See what’s going on down there, and I’ll be right behind you”.

As you hurried out of the door, still putting on your jacket, your heart beating as fast as your running feet, carrying you down the street and directly towards the nearest subway station. During your train ride, you could not help but wonder what had entered the lair and triggered the alert. You hoped, with all of your soul, that it was something that could help you find your boyfriend, or at least let you know when you could see him again.

At your station, you ran from the train, out the station, headed directly towards Central Park. There, you made your way to the sewer that led directly down to the entrance of the lair. You lifted the manhole cover out of the way, before making your way down the metal ladder, closing off the hole behind you. Once at the bottom, your feet carried you through the tunnel, the sound of your feet echoing against the rounded walls, until you finally made it to the entrance of your boyfriend and his family's home. But then you heard something that made your heart halt momentarily, keeping you frozen in place. You heard Casey and April talking to someone. Calmly. Happily. And then you heard familiar voices. His voice…

You bolted into the lair, almost slipping on the floor when you entered the room. There you found April and Casey, talking with the turtles and Master Splinter, learning about where they had been for the past year. And there your eyes quickly landed on your boyfriend, resting on the couch between his brothers.

Your boyfriend stood the moment he saw you, everybody staying silent from the moment you bursted into the lair. For a moment the two of you just stood there, unable to believe your own eyes. But then, suddenly, both of you sprung into action, running to each other, throwing your arms around each other in a tight hug. A loud sup escaped you, the moment you felt him in your arms, burying your face against his strong shoulder, as he held you close, burying his beak against your hair, fighting to hold his own tears from falling.

He’s back. Your boyfriend is finally back in your arms, holding you as tightly as he did the night before he disappeared. He’s back, with many stories to tell after having missed you for a year, just like you had missed him.

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listywrites · 3 months

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I freaking love Ancient Egypt.

I think the animal-headed gods first drew me in as a kid, and then the whole mummy thing just, fascinated me! And the hieroglyphics are so beautiful. I am totally an armchair archeologist--I have watched so many documentaries and read so many books on the subject.

Many years ago, I went to visit a mummy at the Boston Museum of Art. The mummy was a priest in his life, and they had recreated his tomb around him. And it was not the Book of the Dead that graced the walls--it was the Amduat.

The Amduat tells the story of Ra's journey every night when he--as sun god--descends below the horizon. Each panel is an hour, three on each wall. He and his fellow gods journey down Nile of the underworld and then come to a desert, through which his attendants carry his barge.

And every night, in the Sixth Hour, Apophis comes.

He is the embodiment of death and destruction and evil and the end of everything, depicted usually as a terrible serpent. He rises up out of the sands of the desert and threatens to devour Ra and the entire world as well.

Every night, the gods do battle with this beast. Surprisingly, they are lead in many depictions by Set, himself a chaotic, dangerous god.

And every night they put down the beast, and Ra triumphs, and continues his journey to the East, where he rises once again to bring a new day to the people of the world.

But the outcome is never assured, you see. One night, he just might loose the battle, and be devoured, and the sun will never rise again.

This story captivated me. What sort of people would create such a narrative, one where every night could possibly be the world's last?

On the ride home I had a vision of mysterious figures running through an Ancient Egyptian city, and my own story was born. And I knew even before I knew the plot what the name of the story had to be: The Sixth Hour. The hour when everything hangs in the balance. The hour when failure is just not an option.

I wrote and re-wrote the story several times over the years. I realized that I could never research enough to make a perfectly accurate historical story, so I deliberately allowed myself to take some liberties, to free myself from the restraints of perfectionism. That's why I call this a fantasy adventure based on Ancient Egypt and the lands surrounding it, instead of a historical novel.

A friend enjoyed it so much she drew me some fanart, gave me permission to use it as a cover, and encouraged me to share my story with the world, and so I finally took a deep breath and made the plunge. Honestly, it's terrifying to put myself out there. It is not in my nature.

But I enjoyed writing this little story very much, and I would like to share it, in the hope that you will enjoy reading it, too.

Learn more about The Sixth Hour HERE.

Available through numerous ebook distributors. Thanks, Draft2Digital!

#fiction #writing #Ancient Egypt #ebooks #Ancient World #The Sixth Hour #my books

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 4 months

Text

I've Got A Crush On You

A WMCJ!Jeremy x Reader Fic

Soundtrack: Crush On You- Lil' Kim

The last thing Jeremy wants to do right now is teach a team of 12-year-olds how to play basketball, but when he finds out that the nephew of his gym crush is on his team and practically a basketball prodigy, he'll do anything to get him as a client, especially if it means getting to spend more time with you.

Word Count:

Warnings: language, some shameless flirting and objectification of women

"Dude, you've gotta get a new car. This shits a piece of junk." Jeremy slammed the door of Kamal's pale blue 1995 Honda Accord, the squeak of the hinges piercing his ear drums. "Man, shut up", Kamal sucked in his teeth at Jeremy as he hopped out of the driver's seat, a puff of black exhaust billowing out behind the car. "This is all 'Ni and I can afford right now, and last time I checked, it got your ass around LA just fine. Not everyone can drive Daddy's Porsche. Oh wait." He clamped a hand sarcastically over his mouth with wide eyes, chuckling at the look of hurt on Jeremy's face.

The brunette was quick to straighten up. "First of all, it wasn't my daddy's Porsche, it was Tatiana's daddy's Porsche", Kamal gave him a lazy roll of his eyes as he threw his gym bag over his shoulder, "and second, we broke up months ago, why do you keep bringing it up?"

"Because you call me at least once a week, tellin' me how much you miss her!" Jeremy quickly closed the distance between him, his face in a scowl, voice just above a whisper. "I told you that in confidence, man."

Kamal matched his tone, "Well, I wish you wouldn't tell me nothing at all." He was there for his friend during his breakup, but what Jeremy considered a "healthy processing of emotions", Kamal called "oversharing".

"Besides, I've moved on." Jeremy puffed out his chest, trying to appear as confident as possible. "I've met someone else."

"Oh right. Ms. Flexible." Kamal teased in a sing-song voice as he rested a forearm on the hood of the car. Jeremy wouldn't shut up about this "baddie" (his words) that he saw at the gym he frequented, and you would think Halle Berry was showing up in spandex every week, the way he talked about her.

"Put some respect on her name, man. It's Y/N. I took-well I snuck into- one of her yoga classes at the gym, and she is-", he let out a whistle in awe, "I left her class feeling so Zen." Jeremy wasn't any more limber than before the class started, but he sure was in love. "So what now, you wanna "align her chakras" or something?" Jeremy quickly got the innuendo with a suggestive raise of Kamal's eyebrows.

Jeremy let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Why do I feel like you don't take the ancient and complex, spiritual practice known as yoga, seriously?" You could insult his taste in women, but you couldn't insult his lifestyle.

"Because I don't." Kamal let out a hearty chuckle, but Jeremy was stone faced, failing to find the humor in his joke. "Come on, man. We're gonna be late."

Kamal didn't enjoy stepping foot in his old high school, the memories from his his fall from grace senior year forever in the front of his mind. The only reason he was spending his Saturday in this gym he used to call his second home, was to honor a promise he made to an old friend.

"So where are these prospects you talked about?" Jeremy set his NPR tote bag down the bleachers, surveying the inhabitants of the gym. "There's nothing but some old guys and some kids here, man."

"About that..." Kamal's breath hitched in his chest. He hadn't been forthcoming with Jeremy about what they were doing today, because he knew there was no way he'd come if he knew the truth.

"Kamal Allen?" Kamal turned to see his high school best friend Chris Williams walking up behind him, a bag of basketballs in his hands. "Chris, what's going on man?", Kamal asked as he pulled him into a hug. "How long has it been?" Kamal knew exactly how many years it'd been. There were times when he wanted to reach out Chris, but didn't out of shame and embarrassment for how he left things.

Chris chuckled, "Five years, I guess. How's Imani and the baby?"

"He's not a baby anymore. Drew just turned four."

"Damn, time really does fly I guess." Their was a painful silence between the old friends, so Jeremy stepped in. "I'm Jeremy. I've actually got my own business", he slipped a business card to Chris, who reluctantly took it, a blank look on his face, "I mold basketball players into the the next NBA star with my patented, well it will be eventually, shooting drills and techniques." He gave Chris his signature smile, the elevator pitch committed to memory. "I'm gonna need that back by the way. I only have the one."

"Okay", Chris handed Jeremy back the business card with a confused look on his face, Kamal silently signaled to ignore him. "Anyways, thanks for coming down today. I know these kids are a little misguided, but with some good coaching, especially from one of the best players in our school's history, they can get on the right track."

That caught Jeremy's interest. "I'm sorry, what did you say about kids?" He looked between Kamal and Chris, waiting for an explanation. "You said we were working with prospects headed for the draft, K."

"We are", Kamal avoided eye contact, "I just didn't say what year the draft was."

"Look, these kids are from some rough neighborhoods around L.A. They come here to feel safe, appreciated, and stay off the streets. I need some help getting them together though, I can't coach them on my own." Kamal gave Jeremy a pleading look but he wasn't budging.

"No! Look, that kid is picking his nose", the trio swung their heads to look around, catching a tall, scrawny boy wiping a booger on his mesh jersey, all three groaning in disgust, "and that kid looks like a newborn giraffe." Another kid was having trouble staying upright while he was trying to dribble the ball. "Besides, kids through off my energy. I can't do this." Jeremy collected his things, taking a quick swig of his green juice before throwing it in the bag. "I'll be in the car."

"He made it a couple of steps towards the door before Chris stopped him. "Did I mention the job pays?"

"Alright, everybody round up." Jeremy took in the group of boys in front of him, and realized there wasn't an ounce of talent between them. "This is Kamal and Jeremy, they're gonna help out the team."

"Help?!" Kamal shot a look at a kid with a high-top fade reminiscent of the 80s, couldn't haven been more than five feet tall. "What's an old man and Bob Ross gonna do for this team?" The team snickered and laughed at the joke.

"Bob Ross? You're lucky I don't believe in confrontation or..." Jeremy warned, a scowl on his face.

"Or what? You'd paint me a pretty landscape?" The kid shot back, and Jeremy forgot he was a peaceful soul for a second.

"Alright, that's enough Isaiah", Chris cut in. "This is Isaiah Thompson, our point guard." Isaiah flexed, earning a chuckle from Kamal and Jeremy. "What's so funny? I average 15 points a game. They call me Swisher, because I always make that net swish", he held up his hand in the follow through position, his teammates cheering for him.

"Well "Swisher", they should call you Swiffer, because y'all get swept every game." Kamal's tone was laced with sarcasm. He didn't like going toe to toe with kids, but he was asking for it.

"That's rich coming from you", the tall nose picker stepped in, "last time I checked, you weren't exactly holding any records lately. My dad went to high school the same time you did, and he said you blew your scholarship and now you deliver packages." Kamal's jaw flexed. Somehow, the story of his misgivings had been passed down through generations. He stepped to the kid in a moment of anger, but Jeremy was quick to hold him back. "He isn't worth it." He whispered, and Kamal composed himself.

"That's enough! Now, Kamal is still a legend at this school, and we're gonna show him some respect." Chris let out a sigh. "If we want to be taken seriously at this year's tournament, we need to buckle down and get back to the fundamentals."

"What about white boy over there?" Isaiah pointed in Jeremy's direction. "You don't need to worry about that white boy", Kamal palmed a basketball as he spoke, "he's one of the best shooters I've seen."

"Not with those shoes", Isaiah snickered. Jeremy looked down and wiggled his toes in his custom barefoot shoes. "What's wrong with my shoes? Studies have shown it's better for your body to connect with the ground."

"Its giving...broke." Another kid chimed in from the back of the group, sending the boys into a roaring laughter.

"The only thing its giving is me upper cutting a little kid today!" Jeremy lunged at the kid, Kamal stepping in with a hard push to his chest, making him stumble back. "Watch out everyone, Bob Ross is angry!" Isaiah teased, bellowing with laughter.

"Remember what you said? He's not worth it." Kamal patted Jeremy's shoulder reassuringly, this time the reasonable one. "I'm good. I'm good." Jeremy said with a hard breath out of his nostrils.

The sound of the gym door screeching as it opened made both of them turned. "Dude, you've gotta be kidding me." Jeremy couldn't help the smile that crept on his face when he noticed who walked in.

You were even prettier than Jeremy remembered, and he'd spent a lot of time the last couple of weeks thinking about you. You were out of your usual matching gym set, instead wearing scrubs, and he almost lost it at the thought that you were a nurse.

"Isn't that-?" Kamal pointed over to you, and Jeremy quickly slapped his hand down. "Yes it is. What the hell is she doing here?"

"She's probably here to provide medical assistance if you keep getting killed by these kid's jokes." Kamal let out a humorous breath as he looked over at Jeremy who was in a trance, tracking your every step as you made your way to the bleachers. "You think so? I'd like to get some CPR from those lips."

Kamal shoved his friend, shaking him out of his daydream. "No man. She doesn't even know you exist. One of these gremlins is probably her kid or something." He tossed the basketball to Jeremy, who caught it without dropping his gaze toward you. "Are you coming, man?"

"Yeah, yeah. One second." Jeremy dropped the ball and waved Kamal away. He didn't know if he was gonna get a second chance to have your undivided attention, so he was gonna take advantage of the moment.

You shot off a text and looked up just as Jeremy approached you, planting one of his feet on the bleachers, and leaning in uncomfortably close to you. He was cute, messy curls, a smile that could be used on a dentistry advertisement. His wardrobe, an old tie dye t-shirt that was ripped at the collar and hem paired with basketball shorts and those weird individual toe shoes, was a bit off putting, but you had to admire him being true to his own style.

"Sorry, this is a closed practice", Jeremy said with a smirk. "Oh, sorry! I had no idea", you uttered, quickly collecting your things. "I'm just kidding", Jeremy grabbed your arm gently to stop you from walking away. You glanced down at his hand, making him retract it. "I'm Jeremy. I've taken your yoga class over at Hurston, I'm a big fan." He extended a hand out to you, which you took hesitantly.

"Y/N. I didn't know I had fans", your brow knitted together with a smile, "thank you, I guess?" Jeremy chuckled as you tipped your head to the side. "Yeah, I've never seen anyone hold Warrior II like you do." God, he was rusty as hell at flirting after being with Tatiana so long. He could physically feel the charisma draining from his body. "So are you here waiting for your boyfriend or something?" Jeremy knocked his head back in the direction of some senior citizens going through the motions of a Tai Chi class in the corner.

"Oh no", you grimaced, "hell no, uh I usually pick my nephew up from practice, and I got off of work early, so I thought I'd save myself the drive to Inglewood and just wait until he's finished. He's the shy one over in the corner, Mattias." Jeremy noticed the kid with tight curls atop his head dribbling the ball through his legs. He was honestly impressed with his handling skills.

" Are you one of the coaches?" You noticed the basketball that Jeremy was nervously tossing between his hands as you talked.

"Yeah, you know kids are really my passion. Anything to help", Jeremy was lying through his teeth, but you didn't need to know that. "Children are the future, you know?"

You spent the next 15 minutes talking with Jeremy, and you could admit that he was as funny as he was cute. There was something undeniably charming about him, and the way he spoke so passionately about his business, even if it was a gimmicky juicing endeavor, was endearing.

"Hey, Richard Simmons", Isaiah yelled from across the court, "if you're done bombing over there, we need another person for 5 on 5!" Jeremy cursed under his breath with a roll of his eyes, before turning back to you with a smile. "I'd really love to talk more, but duty calls."

"Yeah, go, go, I understand." You said with a giggle as he jumped off the bleachers and jogged to back to the team. "How the hell does he even know who Richard Simmons is?", Jeremy mumbled under his breath.

To say that the team needed work would be an understatement. Most of the players couldn't even catch the ball without jamming a finger or getting the wind knocked out of them, and dribbling without a travel call was a pipe dream at this point. They could count on one hand the number of shots that made it into the basket during layups. The only player with a little bit of natural talent was Mattias. In fact, he could probably play on JV at his age, and both Kamal and Jeremy noticed how flawless his shot was.

"Are you seeing this?", Kamal whispered to Jeremy, who nodded without needing any other context. "He's good. For 12, he's great. He's Y/N's nephew." Jeremy looked back at you. You were intently watching the team play, and gave Jeremy a small wave, feeling your stomach flip as he returned one back to you. "What's up with that?" Even Kamal could tell there was a spark between the two of you. "All I know man, is when I look at her, my stomach drops into my ass." Jeremy's voice cracked as he spoke.

"Is that a good thing?", Kamal asked with a slightly disgusted face. Jeremy looked just as confused as he did. "I don't know man. I don't know." They both jumped as Chris blew the whistle, the sound echoing through the gym. "Let's get one more scrimmage in before we go home."

"Mattias, take point." Kamal tossed the timid kid the ball, but he caught it with ease. "I'm point guard." Isaiah complained, "Matti's too scared to even shoot the ball."

"No I'm not!", Matti threw back with a frown on his face. "Yes you are. Last game you choked, we could've won!" Isaiah was ever the instigator. "Y'all lost that game by 20." Kamal retorted, waving the paper schedule he had in his hand in the air.

"Yeah, but we could have lost by 18 instead."

Kamal sighed. "It doesn't matter, I'm the coach, and I say Mattias is running point. Now run the play." It ran more like a traffic jam than the play Kamal drew up for them to run, and it was only a matter of seconds before one of the kids missed the pass and the ball went flying into the bleachers.

"Mattias, you need to look where you're passing. Make sure you make eye contact with your teammate before you pass." Kamal ran through the motions before passing the ball back. "Jer, get on the wing." When he didn't move, Kamal looked over to see that Jeremy was practically drooling over you from afar, his back completely turned away from the basket. "Jeremy!"

Hearing his name called a second time caught his attention. "Sorry, man. She's just so beautiful."

"Man, get on the wing", Kamal growled. Jeremy jogged over his spot, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. He wondered what you smelled like, what kind of perfume you wore, what you dreamt about at night. He felt the ball whoosh past his head, but it couldn't tear his attention away from you.

He was so zoned in on you, in fact, he didn't realize the next basketball pass hit him so hard in the head, it knocked him out cold, his body falling to the ground.

"Jeremy. Jeremy, can you hear me?"

Jeremy's eyelashes fluttered rapidly as he came to, and while he couldn't see clearly, he could make out blurry figures hovering over him, muffled voices coming in and out. The first voice to come in clearly was a woman's voice.

"Jeremy, if you can here me, please squeeze my hand." The voice was soft and sweet, like something out of one of his dreams. He gently squeezed the silky soft hand in his grasp, allowing his eyelids to slowly open. "Is this heaven?" He could make out your soft silhouette as the lights got brighter around his head.

You let out a quiet giggle as you moved out of the way so Kamal could check on his friend. When Jeremy's vision was fully returned, he groaned at the sight of Kamal's face in front of his. "No man, this is Compton, not Heaven." He helped Jeremy sit up, and you handed him an ice pack for the ever growing bump on his temple.

"Are you okay?", you gave him a sympathetic smile with a pat on the shoulder. You could tell he was embarrassed, his cheeks and neck a bright pink.

"You should have seen it, the ball hit you in the head, and you went flying. Knocked out cold!", Isaiah exclaimed with a laugh.

"Shut up", Jeremy mumbled, letting out a groan as the pain from the impact finally hit him; his face felt like one giant oncoming bruise. You pulled out the pen light you had in your scrub pocket. "Can you follow the light for me?" Jeremy squinted as you shined the bright light in his eyes but his pupils were receptive. "Well, I don't think you have a concussion, but you should definitely take it easy for the next couple of days."

"Thanks, I'm glad you were here." Jeremy gave you a small smile. "Sorry you had to come to my rescue."

"Don't worry, it comes with the territory." You showed him your nursing badge that was still clipped to your collar. "Here, hand me your phone." Jeremy pulled his phone out of his bag and handed it to you. You put your phone number in his contacts. "Call me if any of your symptoms get worse, and if you start to smell toast, call an ambulance." You gave him one last smile before heading out of the gym with Mattias.

"Wait, so you get a ball to the head, and you still managed to get Ms. Flexible's number?" Kamal playfully shoved Jeremy in the arm. "She gave it to me for emergencies, not to ask her out on a date." Jeremy wanted nothing more then to go on a date with you, but he didn't want to exploit your kindness either.

"Trust me man, I saw you drooling over her. This is definitely an emergency."

That night, Jeremy wore a path in his carpet pacing back and forth in his apartment. He was trying anything to calm his nerves: herbal tea, meditation, even Ashwaganda, but that just made him horny and made it more difficult to hold off on calling you. Kamal wasn't any help either, edging him on as they drove back to their side of town.

He stared at your number in his phone contacts for so long, he had them committed to memory. Maybe he could just pretend that his symptoms had gotten worse. Yeah, maybe he did have a concussion, and while he was sure you'd advise him to go to the doctor, it would at least give him an in.

Fuck it, he was gonna call you.

The phone rang four times before you picked up, the sound of the TV in the background.

"Hello?"

Jeremy cleared his throat, feeling it go dry. The first word came out in a croak. "Hello, this is Jeremy. From earlier today. You know the one that got hit with the basketball?"

You stifled a laugh as you straightened up on your couch. "Jeremy, yeah. Are you okay? How's your head?" You'd been thinking about him all day, hoping that you'd get to see him again, but you honestly weren't expecting to hear from him that night.

"Its okay. Still a little dizzy when I stand up too quickly, but I took your advice and I've been taking it easy. I actually made one of my recovery smoothies tonight, and I can swear its helping." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, waiting for you to speak.

"That's good, I'm glad you're doing okay." You allowed a pause, not really sure what he wanted. "Is there something else you wanted to talk about?"

It was now or never. You were the first person after Tatiana that he actually saw as more as a rebound hookup. He wanted to do this right.

"Actually, I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner tomorrow?" He immediately began to panic as soon as the words came out of his mouth. "I've know this vegan restaurant that has farm to table ingredients." He slapped a hand to his forehead in embarrassment. Good job, Jeremy. If she didn't think you were a weirdo before, he definitely did now.

He perked up as you began to speak. "That actually sounds really nice. I would love to go to dinner with you, Jeremy."

"One second." Jeremy punched the mute button so you wouldn't hear him run around his apartment in excitement, punching the air. He plopped back down on his couch, taking a second to compose himself and catch his breath before he pressed unmute. "Sounds good. 8'o'clock?"

"That's perfect. See you tomorrow."

Jeremy hung up his phone, and placed it on the coffee table as reality started to set in. This was the first date he was going on in five years. He really needed it to go well.

He needed it to go fuckin' perfect.

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#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic

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eclipsedrgn · 10 months

Text

Left Behind (3)

Pair: Bayverse!Leo x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's been 6 months since coming back to New York. Will you forgive the Turtles for their mistake?

Warning: implied sex, mentions of sex

A lot has changed since you came back from supposed death.

Splinter has explained to the turtles about your death and was furious, they didn't trust you much afterwards. Unlike the other three, Michelangelo tried his best to be around you even though became cold and disconnected. He misses his best friend, you coming back was the best thing that happened to him in a long time. So the fact you barely even acknowledge him or his brothers hurt him a lot.

The first three months were painful for you and for the four turtles, you all barely spoke to each other and only you visit the sewers to see Splinter and told him news about the Ancient One and why you've come back to New York.

The fourth month is when Raph let his anger out on you. You were coming by the lair to tell Splinter the news your team will be arriving in two months time, you wanted to ask him for permission to have Gojo and Geto over at the lair to discuss planning when you encountered Raphael leaning against the entrance of the lair. You gave him the cold shoulder and was about to go around when he yelled at you, telling you how much you've hurt his family.

Which ended up you telling him the truth, how they all thought you were weak and you didn't bring anything to the team, how depressed you got and the only way to live your life is to move on and away from them. Raph didn't know what came over him as he presses his rough lips against yours, sexually frustrated for a while now, you responded as you wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands placed on your ass lifting you from the ground.

That night you unintentionally slept with Raphael.

The next morning, Mikey found you sneaking out of the hothead's room holding your jeans in your hands as you borrowed his t-shirt. And that day, you had a talk with everyone.

About you.

You all gathered around the dining table eating pizza, their usual meal, Splinter sat at the head of the table as everyone ate silently.

"I believe (Y/n) has something to tell us" Splinter announces.

"About what?" Raph says walking in, he snatches a cup of coffee and drinking it.

"Why I faked my death and came back alive" you stated, glancing at Splinter who gave you a stern nod.

You take a deep breath. "So... you still think I'm weak?"

The turtles froze.

"Here" you said bringing out evidence of the Foot Clan you've been gathering for a month. "Still think I didn't bring enough to the table?"

"Or are we gonna pretend that I've been nothing but an ordinary girl sitting on the couch doing nothing"

The tension thickens as you stood from your stop slamming down your hand. "I fucking sacrificed a lot being your friend, I never took you for granted because I loved you guys and all you did was talk behind my back how I'm worth nothing"

"I didn't say anything..." Mikey frowns.

"No but Raphael did, Donatello oh let's not forget Leonardo. What happened then? The hothead complains so everyone joins in?" You spat.

"And you!" You pointed at Leo. "You were suppose to have my back. You decieved me"

Another silence fills the air.

No one knew how to respond, even Splinter who walked out knowingly this is his son's responsibility. You angrily wipe off the tears gathered in your eyes, you hated feeling weak and for the past two years and a half all you've done is prove to yourself that your tough. You can handle things. And if things got all tough, you'd be find because you know you can surpass it.

"I have another month to go before I leave to go back to Japan" you announced.

"You're leaving?" Mikey said sadly.

"You just arrived. I know we barely talked but is there anything we can do to make it up to you" Donnie begs.

"You know it was just banter" Raph spoke up, his voice gentle, totally different from the night before. "We didn't mean to hurt you badly"

"Banter or not, its not an excuse" Leo said, standing up as he takes you hand. "I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you, I'm sorry that I didn't look for more evidence you supposed killed you. I'm sorry"

You gave him a sad smile, "I... I've been wanting to hear that for the longest time. I'm sorry I caused you the pain. Especially..."

Especially you know you had to save me those five times.

Leonardo wrapped his arms around you, as you hugged him back tightly and willingly. The others joined in, hugging you as tight as possible. From Leo's shoulder, you looked up making eye contact with Raph. You both knew what happened the night before was a fluke and won't be happening again, and you both knew, that secret will end up biting you back on your asses.

#tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt x reader #lazywriting #notedited #jjk #tmnt #leonardo #donatello #raphael #michelangelo

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theprenderelliepalace · 5 days

Text

Damon Salvatore x fem!reader

Perception

Summary: Y/N drops some books off at the Salvatore residence, she expects to find trouble, being the odd one out and everything, she doesn't expect his name to be Damon Salvatore.

Warnings: For mature Audiences, themes of assault, drunk Damon (well isn't that new? Said no one ever.), uh, does a 'takes no shit' !reader count as a trigger?, Elena being a mysterious plot point

Words: 1.7k

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I watched Elena Gilbert make this weird expression at me... Caroline was saying something stupid, Bonnie was arguing with that judgemental gleam in her hazel eyes, but what caught my attention, was that foreboding purse of Elena's lips. The furrow of her flawless brow, the way her eyes sparked with something that scared me. It was almost hidden, she smiled wryly in my direction. Her eyes like daggers that penetrated my skull, it made me shiver; as I felt like I had been stripped bare of anything that belonged to me in that moment. Any ground or loyalty I had in our friend-group, I knew was gone, with the flick of Elena's hair behind her shoulder- my other friends hadn't even realised yet, but they would. Come morning I would be a stranger, even to my closest friends since kindergarten. I would be on the fringe of everything I used to know.

I was 12 when I stopped hanging out with the most popular girls in Mystic Falls. Strangley, I never regretted that day. What I had seen in my closest friend, that unexplainable glint about her that still gave me nightmares, had opened my eyes to something dark in the shitty little town I'd spent my entire life in. I said I'd never regretted that day, that was until the vampires came...

~~~~~

"Yes Care, i will be there before dark." I pinched the bridge of my nose, willing the annoying voice on the other end of the line to go bother someone else. "No, I did not tell Stefan." I responded dryly. Elena was in danger, yet again. Klaus was on the prowl, for the daggers, for Elena's blood, for all of us... And Caroline was bugging me about my communication skills. "Well seeing as I'm dropping these old spellbooks for Bonnie at the boarding house, I figure, 'Hey, why not kill two vampires with one study session from hell." I groaned internally as Caroline got heated over the phone. I slammed the back door to my dad's old Toyota corolla, opening the drivers side and collapsing into the leather seat. "Then take it up with someone who cares Caroline. Sorry, I'm driving through a tunnel, on an airplane, while hanging up the phone."

I can't even remember what I did with my phone, all I know is that I started my engine and reversed out of my driveway, heading for the outskirts of the town and towards the infamous Salvatore residence.

It had been 4 goddamm years since I called those girls my friends. I had seen an entire 'nother leap year, in the time it took for these bitches to deem me useful. I travled with my mom, Rome, Paris, India, Africa. I would've gotten my high-school diploma six months ago, if I hadn't had to move back to this ancient cesspool of a town.

And don't misunderstand me, that is the time it took for my life to go to crap. Vampires, the Salvatore Brothers, Elena... I shuddered in my seat, clenching my hands around the wheel as I thought about her.

I was so lost in my thoughts, that I jumped when I reached the boarding house. It was tall and looming, with an ominous darkness catching the corner of my eye. I sighed as I parked, readying myself for the chaos of the two people I despised more than Mystic High's Queen Bee. You see, in the last 6 months I had discovered something about myself, I was perceptive. Yes, I have always been a little more aware than perhaps usual, but it was more than that. I was something supernatural, I didn't know what but I did know that I could see magic, hear a vampires nearly imperceptible heartbeat and feel the forces of nature that others couldn't even dream about.

It was strange, knowing you could see other people when they never expected to be seen at all. I could read their faces, know their tells, pick apart their lies. It was why I was suddenly on the Mystic Falls supernatural hit-teams most wanted list. I could see. I scoffed as I pulled the back door of my car open. Heaving the heavy books into my arms, shifing my weight into my lower back as I ambled up the porch steps to the front door. If all these people needed me for was my sight, then these assholes should really get their eyes checked.

The door was already open, I ducked in sideways, trying to keep my balance while toppling books inched out of my grip. "Let me take those off your hands." I audibly groaned, the voice that assaulted my ears was silky smooth, like fine wine pouring into my ears.

"Damon, look what the bat dragged in." I couldn't see him over the pile of scripts and dusty memoirs of old witches, but I could hear his stupid smirk as he took the pile away from me.

"Still as snarky as ever Y/N. Didn't your mummy ever teach you to be nice to charming men who carry your books?" Anyone else wouldn't have noticed the foe-disdain in his voice, or the slight quicking pace in his pulse, of course, I'm not anyone else.

"Oh! That's what the karate classes were for." I looked at him now, this tall,brooding, Greek God of a man was attracted to me. Stupid I know. That's what I thought too, but I've never been wrong. Especially not since I came into my powers. Normally I would take the shot, go for it, but I had no chance. He was in love with his brothers girlfriend, a stupider decision if you ask me.

"Glad I've only ever seen you in action once or twice then." He smirked. I walked past him and into the living room. The fire was roaring, as I often found it was when Damon was alone on a Thrusday through Sunday afternoon. Where he was the rest of the time, I hadn't had the stomach to ask. I laughed unconvincingly.

"Didn't I almost shoot you in the face when you first tried to use me as a human pincushion?" He set the books down with a thud on the ornate coffee table. I set mine down with a far greater deal of grace. He frowned at me.

"Details, details. Besides," He took a step towards me, he smelled like alcohol and something else..."the way to a vampire, is always through his heart." He grabbed my hand, gently at first, clinging onto it as I tried to pull away. He made me touch his chest, it was firm and rising jaggedly with air he didn't need.

I glared at him. "You're drunk. Go leech on something else," i paused "leech." He laughed, it sent shivers down my spine, his eyes were deadly and cold. He pulled me flush against him. I wasn't unused to this radical "Damon Behavior", but there was something wild about his eyes. Something needy. To be honest, maybe I was needy too.

"Someone should teach you manners little lady." Or maybe not. I timed it perfectly, jutting my elbow out from between us into his diaphragm, he caught my arm, blocking it and shifting my upper body to the right. His lips found my ear, his breath tickled as he whispered into my hair. "One day that mouth of yours will bite off more than those pretty little lips can chew.

"Someone should teach you the modern cure for the insufferable womanizer." I spat. Then suddenly- I was on the couch, the fire crackled so loudly in my ears I thought my head would explode. Damon was leaning over me. His ebony hair feathered against his forehead, his lips were inches from mine, our breath mingled into each other. I felt his body become hotter above me, it was almost startling compared to his cool demeanor at the door. "Damon, please. Use at least one brain cell to think about this stupid decision you're making-"

He cut me off, "See that's the thing Y/N, you talk to me with that foul little mouth of yours and think it's okay. No one talks to me like that." For the first time in an agonizing ten minutes he looked away from me. "I never let anyone talk to me like that. But its like this-" if we had been having this conversation like normal people, I would've smiled at the hint of Italian in his accent. "I do let you. You drive me crazy. I hate you for that."

I tensed. "Well people who hate each other don't treat one another like this. So one of us is lying." I don't know if I knew who was lying to themselves between the both of us, but maybe that would give me enough of a chance to distract him and then-

And then he was kissing me. It was deep and firey. He moaned against my lips as he parted them with his tongue, his grip around my waist tightened as he explored my mouth. It all happened so quickly, I barely began to understand what was happening before "I don't like lying Y/N."

What the hell was that?

He bolted away from me and was on the other side of the room so fast he was only a blur. He started to say something, probably to shout at me in his drunken stupor, but I was quicker- "Did you say that out-loud?" I asked, I was breathless and disgusted and fascinated all in the span of 5 seconds.

He made a face at me. "The hell, "did I say that?" He mocked my question,he was agitated, borderline disbelieving. "I was in the middle of kissing you, moron. I did not say that. What the hell did you do?" He held his arms close to his chest, obviously he felt as violated as I did. I scowled at him.

"Then, moron, did you think it?" He looked at me with big, blue, question- filled eyes.

"I-"

"Y/N?" Shit, Bonnie, i glanced to the door. I turned back to the fireplace and the leather-clad, bad boy vampire was gone. I pinched the bridge of my nose... worst timing ever Bonnie Bennet...

What the hell just happened?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Ta-da! Ooo la, la... I'm a sucker (haha, get it?) for mystery and suspense.

Did you like the little nudge towards something Elena related, without having to deal with like, Elena..?

But chill, there will be a little bit of everything for all you shippers.

I don't know where I'm going to take this story yet, so feel free to Ask, or request or whatever and maybe things will turn in your favour... :0

Read pt 2 here:

#tvd universe #blogger #damon salvatore #caroline forbes #elena gilbert #damon salvatore x reader #damon x reader #damon x elena #the vampire diaries #bonnie bennett #mystic falls #y/n #blogging #one shot #stefan salvatore

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raaorqtpbpdy · 30 days

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Much to Learn

Maddie has Phantom cornered. He's not getting away from her this time.

{Irma} Maddie overhears something she shouldn't, and it makes her rethink everything (reveal gone right) [ghost]

Read also on AO3

[Warning for mentions of violence/dissection]

She had him. Maddie had that spook cornered, and there was no way he could escape, at least not without being seen. Jack was covering the other exit, but she knew she had him. Phantom was hers.

"That was too close," she heard Phantom's voice around the corner.

He had no idea, she thought, raising her ecto-gun, ready to take him down.

"No kidding," a girl's voice replied.

Maddie froze. Was he talking to someone? Her voice sounded kind of familiar. Was she in danger.

"My parents almost had me that time," Phantom replied. "Thank the Ancients I gave them the slip, or it would have been hello scalpel."

"You got Klemper, right?" a boy's voice asked.

So Phantom had two captives... or... perhaps allies, the way they were talking. But what had he meant about his parents? Were they still alive?

"Asked him for his best soup impression," Phantom replied with a chuckle. "You know, I don't actually mind if they want to have fun and goof off, and it's great for them that they don't have to worry about consequences in the Ghost Zone, I just wish they could wrap their heads around the fact that here in the real world, people can still get badly hurt. Like, some of us are mortal, buddy."

"And Klemper plays pretty rough, so it's no wonder he doesn't have any friends," the girl replied.

"Yeah, no kidding," the other boy's voice agreed.

They didn't sound like captives, Maddie determined. They definitely didn't sound like ghosts, either.

"Alright, if my parents had followed me, I'm sure they would've burst in guns blazing by now," Phantom said. "I think I'm in the clear."

There was a flash of light and a sort of whirring sound.

The next voice Maddie heard wasn't Phantom's... it was Danny's.

"Guess I'm not gonna get dissected tonight," he said, like it was some kind of big accomplishment. "Good thing, too because I have a huge English assignment due soon that I haven't even started on. I definitely don't have time for my parents to cut me open."

"You sound awful cheery," the girl noted, and suddenly, Maddie could place the voice. It was Danny's friend Sam.

"Well, you know, you gotta celebrate the small victories, right?" Danny replied. "That's what Jazz is always telling me, anyway."

"Morbid victories," scoffed the other boy—Tucker, she finally recognized.

When Maddie had cornered Phantom and his allies, she'd actually... or rather, she'd also cornered Danny and his friends. Because they were the same people.

Her son was Phantom.

Oh, god, what had she done?

"Come on, guys, let's get out of here," Danny said, and Maddie could hear him and his friends walking toward the door where she was lying in wait.

She wanted to run so she could have time to properly process her thoughts and the new information, but she was rooted to the spot, her brain racing at a mile a minute. Danny was a ghost? How? When? God, she had shot at him.

He was coming her way. He was almost to the door. She wanted to run, but she still couldn't move.

He walked through, and jumped when he saw her, back against the wall, ecto-gun still raised and in-hand.

"Mom," he said, sounding mildly alarmed. "Uh... how long have you been standing there?"

"You're Phantom," she said. The words just spilled from her lips, and she was helpless to stop them.

She didn't miss the way Danny's muscles all tensed up at once and he eyed the gun still in her hand.

"What?" he asked.

Her eyes widened and she dropped her ecto-gun to the floor as if it had bitten her. Oh god, he was afraid of her. Her own son was afraid of her. What kind of mother had she been? What had she been doing?

She threw herself at him, and wrapped him up in a hug. "Oh, Danny, I'm so sorry!"

"Uh...." She could feel the hesitation in his movements as he hugged her back, and it brought tears to her eyes. "It's... it's okay, Mom. You didn't know."

"No, I didn't know, but it's not okay," she insisted. "Ignorance is never an excuse. I tried to hurt you!"

"But you didn't," he said. "Mom, I'm fine. It's okay. I forgive you."

"I've been a fool," she said, reluctantly pulling away from the hug so she could look him in the eye and cup the side of his face, gently, like a mother should. "I only heard a minute of conversation, but it's obvious you know about ghost. You probably—no, you definitely know more than I do. Maybe you can fill in some of the gaps in our research."

"If it means you won't have to dissect anybody, I'd be happy to help."

Maddie cringed, but once she got past the barb, it sounded nice. A little mother-son scientific research and bonding was just what she needed to get to know her son again. He'd been so distant lately, and now... well, now she knew why. And now that she knew, she could start to pull him closer again, learn the kind of man he was growing into when he wasn't too busy avoiding her.

"That sounds wonderful, Danny," she said. "I'm sure I have so much to learn."

#danny phantom #dp #danny fenton #maddie fenton #reveal fic #reveal gone right #good fenton parents #fic #things i wrote #phic phight #phic phight 24 #ficlet

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missjadesfics · 1 month

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Are you blushing because of me?

Ronon Dex x Reader Dividers: @cafekitsune @rookthornesartistry Request: No Summary: Ronon loves making Y/n blush, even so much so it prompts him to reveal his feelings for her. Warnings: None, just Ronon and Y/n being adorable; Ronon does have slight wandering hands ;) Word Count: 2k Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis, nor do I claim them as my own Comments, likes and reblogs are always adored and appreciated xx

Y/n Shepard was John’s only child, so what happens, you might ask, in her daily life? Being the child of Lt. John Shepard means she doesn’t leave Atlantis. He claims it’s for her safety after losing her mother; he devoted his entire focus to keeping his daughter alive and well. So Y/n adapted; she trained with Teyla in hand-to-hand combat and helped Dr McKay discover Ancient technology; lucky for Y/n, Rodney McKay let her help him. He is always too stubborn and proud to admit to others when he is wrong or needs help, but Y/n always had a soft spot for him. To the shock of the whole of Atlantis, Rodney McKay’s being selfless towards someone else was unheard of. Y/n often occupied her time helping Dr Beckett with medical research, and he always loved the extra help with the younger girl. Everyone in Atlantis had become Y/n’s family quickly. Elizabeth Weir, the commander of Atlantis, kept a close eye on Y/n when her father was away on off-world missions.

The day when the team assembled to go and find Ford, an old member of the team, Y/n desperately wanted to go. “Y/n, no, you have to stay here; we could encounter Wraiths. I want you to stay here. Understand me,” He told her; she nodded solemnly. “Fine, whatever you say,” she pushed him playfully as he kissed her head. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back in no time” He waved as Y/n grumbled, making her way up the stairs to the infirmary and seeing Dr Beckett on his chair. “Y/n love, why do you look so down?” He asked, worried Y/n sighed, sitting on a nearby bench.

“I am sentenced to stay here again while my father goes on another off-world mission. So yeah,” She swung her legs back and forth. “Does my father not trust me? I am twenty-two years old. I’ve never been off-world before. I’m sure I can handle myself” She walked around. Dr Beckett laughed, swinging around his chair. “I don’t think that’s the issue, lass. Your father just wants to keep you safe, that’s all. You are his only child. His protective nature just takes over; he means nothing by it. Here, come help me with these blood samples. I need help labelling and ordering” He smiled at her as she sat beside him, helping him sort out the blood test tubes. “Now tell me, have you read any new books recently?” He asked her as they both worked away.

So, to say the least, when John and the team returned not with Ford but with someone new, Y/n’s interest was piqued. Running to the main operating room, she saw her father with the rest of the team “Dad!” She exclaimed as she ran into his open arms. John laughed, lifting her off the ground. “Oh, I always love your hugs when I come back.” He looked at her with a grin, and Y/n looked around. “No Ford?” She asked, and John shook his head. “No, he uh got away in a Dart; we lost him.” he sighed Y/n saw Teyla and hugged her friend Y/n looked over at the new guy who was already staring at her Y/n pulled away from her hug with Teyla. John saw his daughter’s eyes land on Ronon as she pulled away from her hug from Teyla. “Oh, Ronon, this is Y/n. Y/n, this is Ronon Dex” Y/n smiled, holding her hand out for Ronon; he smiled lightly, his head reaching out, and John pulled Y/n back. “Nope, not happening. Y/n, go see Rodney; he said he found something new you might like to look at” Y/n’s eyes widened. “Dad, stop it!” She looked at him, embarrassed. John gave her a stern look, and she sighed, looking at Ronon again before leaving the room.

The next day, Y/n walked around Atlantis, stumbling across the cafeteria and seeing Ronon sitting alone. She smiled, grabbed water, a knife and a fork, and approached him. “Mind if I join you?” She asked. Ronon’s eyes looked up from the food. He looked around. “No one going to stop you today?” He teased her; she laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t mind my dad; he’s just overprotective” She sighed and offered Ronon the knife and fork. “Use these; it’s proper eating etiquette.” She watched him eye the utensils as he used them cautiously. She sipped her water. “I am sorry we didn’t get properly introduced yesterday. I’m Y/n; it’s nice to meet you officially,” She leant on her hand. Ronon nodded with a chuckle “Ronon, nice to meet you too,” he replied, eating his potato; she noticed he hadn’t touched the jelly on his tray. “You aren’t fond of jelly?” She asked, pointing to the small plastic container. Ronon narrowed his eyes at the blue food, shaking his head. “Not really. I don’t like the look of it,” He mumbled; he cleaned his hand and picked up the jelly with a slight smile. “Would you like it?” He offered; she smiled and took it; feeling their hands touch, she gasped softly. Ronon’s eyes shined at her reaction. “Thank you, Ronon”, she whispered as she ate the jelly. He winked. “No problem, Y/n”, he smirked, making her blush. So she blushes easily, Ronon thought.

As Ronon began to find his place in Atlantis, he became an official member of John’s team. At times, though, he was still standoffish to others and somewhat intimidating with a strike-first-questions-later persona. He spent much time with Y/n without John knowing about it. He could only imagine if John found out he and his daughter were alone together, the hell-raising that would occur from it. Ronon’s sleeping quarters were a few rooms away from Y/n’s, so running into her was part of the ritual. It was almost perfectly timed they would both come out of their room, lock eyes and smile. Walking beside each other, their fingers nearly touching, making their eyes avert down before pretending they didn’t notice.

Teyla had noticed the lingering gaze between the two; she knew the look of love when she saw it. If McKay or Beckett ever noticed, McKay would make a shiver and a disgusted sound followed by a typical McKay-fashioned phrase: “Honestly, what would she see in a guy like Ronon? He’s hotheaded, stubborn, and, not to mention, dives in head-first into danger. She should be with someone more like…like,” He would try to say, and Beckett would finish his sentence “, Like you?” He asked with a raised brow. Teyla would laugh lightly as McKay would look between the two, puffing his chest out. “Me? You think so?” Nothing strokes Rodney’s ego better than when someone thinks he is the best at what he does or if he would be suited to a romantic match with someone like Colonel Shepard’s daughter. “I guess you could say that; at least I am not throwing myself in harm’s way whenever I have the chance” McKay would continue his work, making Beckett chuckle. “My friend, if Y/n ever decided to be with you. It would be because you’d be the only man on earth, and that’s not a compliment.”

Ronon always found a moment to find something beautiful or unique on any mission the team was sent on. He loved seeing her face light up with each little gift he would give her. John had begun to see something was happening between his daughter and Ronon, his father instincts kicking in. Teyla would tell him to let the couple be. “Y/n is old enough to make her own choices, John. She knows you are protective, but you must let her grow independently at some point,” Teyla smiled. John grumbled, slouching in annoyance. “I know it will take some getting used to, that’s all. She’s never had a relationship; well, there has been no one that she’s liked, you know. And Ronon comes along and-” John spoke before halting his sentence. Teyla raised her brows. “He makes your daughter happy, John” Teyla finished. John sighed with a nod. “Yeah, he does, damn it”

Y/n sat in her favourite little hide-out, reading her book, when she heard movement behind her. Her head turned, and she saw Ronon climb over and sit beside her in the little nook. “Mmm, this is cozy. Good thing there’s only room for two of us,” he grinned Y/n blushed, looking down at her book. “To be honest, I never tested this cozy space with someone else, so I didn’t know if it could fit two people”, she admitted as Ronon laid back slightly. “I hope you don’t mind sharing it with me then?” Ronon whispered. His hand slowly moved to touch hers. Y/n felt her breathing hitch when his fingers touched hers. “I don’t”, Y/n whispered, her eyes gazing into his. “This reminds me I have something for you” Ronon reached behind his back and pulled out a small leather pouch. Y/n’s smile widened. Ronon grasped her hand and opened her palm, laying the pouch in her open hand.

“What did you get me?” She asked him. Ronon smirked, watching her open the pouch; her hand dipped inside and pulled out a necklace with a blue gem in the centre. “Ronon, this is beautiful”, she gasped, admiring the jewellery. “You shouldn’t have this, wouldn’t have been-” she began. Ronon held her hand. “The man who gave me this, I’ve known him for a long time; he visited my planet. He would carve with local stones, gold, and anything he could find beauty in and sell it. He owed me a favour, and he did this for me. This gem I found on one of my scouts it’s the last piece of my home. And I wanted to give it to the woman I had fallen in love with. A piece of my heart for her to keep,” He murmured. Y/n gasped softly, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. Ronon cupped her cheek, pressing his head to hers. “Ronon”, She breathed, her heart pounding, hearing it thump through her body. “Yes?” He smirked, his eyes shining with a mischievous glint Y/n licked her lips, her breathing falling and rising quickly. "I love you too," She told Ronon Y/n climbed onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck “Kiss me, please.” She let out a shaky breath as Ronon happily obliged her request, both of their lips melding perfectly together. Y/n felt Ronon’s hand move up and down her body. His fingers left a trail of fire in their wake.

His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer. Feeling her body relax under his touch, she fell into his embrace completely. Pulling away for a breath, the couple panted quietly. Ronon’s hands were placed on Y/n’s hips. "You are so beautiful", Ronon murmured, causing Y/n to blush her head falling on his shoulder to hide her embarrassment. “Are you blushing because of me?” Ronon teased with a laugh. Y/n pulled away and shoved him playfully, his eyes looking over her face. “I love it when you do; it means I’m doing something right” he smiled lovingly, her nose brushing Ronon’s softly.

"I'm glad I took your father up on his offer to stay in Atlantis."

special dt : @hudson-bay-girl

#jason momoa #oneshots #ronon dex #ronon dex x reader #stargate atlantis #missjadesfics #my fic #fluff #jason momoa x reader

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bunny-bear-blogs · 7 months

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The Magician's Box

Synopsis: Lyney, Teyvat’s greatest magician, and his assistant Lynette are getting ready for a big show at the Opera Epiclese. Why is this show of such great importance? Because they have been personally invited by the Hydro Archon. Which is why it’s important for them to make a great impression. How so you might ask? By unveiling a new magic trick in this grand show, one involving a special magician's box. But what happens when the trick goes awry and traps you and the great magician Lyney inside with no escape?

Word Count: 2494

A/N: This is my second fic wrote/posted :>

A few days ago, you got a call from Lyney saying to come down to work and that he needs you immediately. You see, when you first moved to Fontaine you had trouble finding work that suited your interests and struggled with this problem time and time again. You were tired of working boring job after boring job. Afterall, you moved to Fontaine to get a sense of adventure and see the unexpected. You stayed in this uneventful job streak until you met him. It wasn’t until you met Lyney who offered you a job as a part of his stage crew that you were finally able to have the eventful thrilling job you’ve craved for so long. I mean, what can be more exciting than working for Teyvat’s most famous magician? This event was all three years ago, times have changed since then including the way you view the ashy blonde magician. In the beginning, all you held for him was admiration for how he gave you this job and for how committed he was to keeping the belief of magic alive in people's hearts. Along with this, you viewed him as a good friend who you just admired greatly. But slowly, your feelings for him shifted from friendly admiration into being totally absolutely in love with Lyney. Of course, you would never act on your feelings not wanting to spoil the friendship you have currently. But it doesn't hurt to daydream about being more than friends a bit. You can’t lie. When Lyney called saying he needs you immediately your heart skipped a beat. You know it's for work reasons but it doesn't hurt to imagine he actually needs you romantic wise? Getting your head out of the clouds, you quickly put on your coat and ran out the door into your workplace.

You stood there in your workplace, confused. Why were you the only one here? Where are Lynette and the rest of the crew? The main room was empty, which was no surprise since the big show was only a few days away, but something was off. There was a huge box standing in the middle of the room, covered by a long navy cloth. You were seriously confused, but before you could do anything, Suddenly, from behind the box, Lyney stepped out. He was the same as ever, with his ashy blonde hair covering a part of his face, his violet eyes that looked like amethysts, and his sweet smile and teardrop-stained mark on his face. This was Lyney—the Lyney that you had fallen in love with. “Mademoiselle, I’m glad you made it. You’re the only one who can help me with this task.” “What task would that be, great magician Lyney?” You said it with a teasing tone. “I’m glad you asked.” Then he grabbed the navy cloth and unveiled the box. You were surprised. The box looked ancient and was filled with dust and cobwebs. However, what stood out to you was the writing the box had in an unfamiliar language. “I remember you telling me you’ve studied many different languages, so I just thought maybe you would know what it says.” Oh. oh. So that’s what he needed you for. It was something only you could do, and you alone. You should’ve known better than to get your hopes up too high." Yup, I studied that type of writing a couple years ago, so my translating might be a little rusty. You walked closer to the box and put your fingers over the inscribed words. It says that this box is one that brings two.” “That’s quite the odd riddle. I’m not quite sure what the creator of this box meant to say. But the show must go on, so thank you for the help regardless, Y/N.” “I’m sorry that I couldn't be of more assistance, Lyney.” “Y/N It’s completely fine. Just you coming down here to help me on an off day means a lot to me.” “Lyney, if I may ask, what will this box be used for? Does it have to do with yours and Lynette’s grand performance at the Opera Epiclse?” “Yes, it does. I plan to teleport within the box. To have it move from the stage to the audience.” “Is that even possible? How would you do it, Lyney?” “A magician never reveals his secrets, as you’ll see at our show. Speaking about our show, here is this: With the flick of his hand, a VIP ticket to his grand magic show appeared. Please say you’ll come see me perform. You're my good luck charm after all."It was true that every time you went to one of the twin magic shows, they would do outstandingly well; however, the one time you didn't, a trick went wrong and caused Lyney to quickly improvise the outcome. “For sure, I’ll be there. I wouldn't want to miss my two favorite twins magic performance.” You smiled and grabbed the ticket, and shortly after, you said your goodbyes to the violet-eyed magician and made your way home.

Fast forward to now, and it is the day of the twins' grand performance. You got there extra early because you were going to meet the twins backstage but not for the reason you usually do. Even though you usually help behind the scenes before and during shows, Lyney and Lynette had insisted that for this special show you should sit and watch as an audience member. This was because of the long time you had worked with them, for this special show they wanted you to see from the audience viewpoint how far they've come in the three years you've known them. However, Lynette called you the night before asking if you could visit her and Lyney backstage before the show started. Here you were, complying and reaching backstage. You opened the door and saw Lyney and Lynette. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” Said Lyney clearly filled with shock. “I invited her to come, she's your good luck charm after all.” Said Lynette nonchalantly. “I can leave if you guys are uncomfortable” Suddenly, Lyney grabbed my wrist exclaiming with a red blush spreading across his face. “No, I don't want you to go. I want you to stay here with me” “You want her to stay here, huh? Lynette broke out in a mischievous smile. If that's so, I’ll give you guys room to speak plus I need to check if everythings ready for the show.” Lynette then left the room with a small smile still on her face. “I didn’t mean for my words to come out like that, but I do want you here.” “I want to be here with you too Lyney.” A voice instantaneously announced through booming speakers “The show is about to start, please have the members of the audience start making it to their seats.” I put my arm behind my back, “I guess it's time for me to go, good luck on the show Lyney and send my support to Lynette as well.” “Thanks for your support Y/N. You're always showing your support for us and I just want you to know we feel the same for you.” He then flicked his wrist making a rainbow rose appear. This is for you Y/N. Please enjoy the show.” He then placed the rose in your hand. “Thank you, Lyney!” You walked out of the backstage area quickly and into your seat happily.

The audience area was packed. It was completely full, with local celebrities and journalists being placed among the audience. I guess it must truly be a big deal to be invited to perform by an archon. I sat down, fidgeting with the rainbow rose Lyney gave me. He’s never given these out at shows before or to anyone. “I wonder if that means this rose is important.” You had accidentally muttered that out loud, and before you could process anything, Charlotte, a journalist from the Steambird, spoke out. “That's a rainbow rose! Did the magician, Lyney, give you that? Those roses symbolize passion and romantic encounters! I’ve seen you two hanging out together often. Does that mean Lyney has found a partner?” She bombarded you with questions and facts. “Me and Lyney are not in a relationship. We’re just good friends who have known each other for years. He probably just gave me this rose by mistake; it's best not to look too deep into it.” I’m not sure why, but it felt as if my heart flinched saying that. Friends. Yeah, that's right, all we'll ever be is friends. You feigned a smile to Charlotte, to which she replied, "Oh, I see. Sorry for my intruding, but I truly do think the magician likes you.” Before you could respond, the speakers spoke once again, saying the show was beginning.

The magic show was the most captivating thing you had ever seen in your life. It had everything that made the twins special in it. It had things like simple hat tricks to complicated escape the box before you drown type of tricks. Finally, for the last trick of the show, it involved that special box. Lyney was talking up the crowd when Lynette brought the box out. But something still confused you, the words etched into it, “One brings two.” Before you could ponder more your thoughts were shattered by the sound of Lyney’s voice. “Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting the best trick I will perform tonight! I will go inside this box and teleport the box all the way onto the audience's side and appear on top of the box with a surprise in hand. This will all be done in under sixty seconds and I will have Lynette be the one locking the box and you my audience counting. I will now enter the box and Lynette will shut it closed.” Lynette came forward and locked the box having her key in hand then picking it up for the audience to see. Lynette then hyped the crowd up and began her countdown starting from sixty. All was well, with Lyney in the box until something strange happened.

You blinked, and then the next second you were in the box with Lyney, who had a panicked expression. “What’s going on?” You said with a puzzled expression, facing Lyney, who looked full of panic. “I-I’m not quite sure. The box should have let me out by now, and I should’ve been able to reach the roof of the box by now. But for some reason, I can’t.” I then tried to pull on the exit where Lyney was, but there was no luck. It wasn't letting me out either. “Do you think this has to do with the riddle of the box? The whole one brings two thing?” “Maybe, but what does that even mean?” "Well, you were one; the person in the box and you going in brought two, which was me.” “That’s a good point, Y/N, but what confuses me is how during practice no one else was brought into the box.” "Well, let's think rationally: why isn't this box letting us out? Wait, Lyney, would you say I'm special to you?” “Of course you're special to me, Y/N; you're my friend.” He spoke with hesitation, as if holding important pieces of information back. “No, Lyney, think deeper; why else would I have been brought to this box with you? Why me? If it was friend or familial feelings, Lynette or Freminet would’ve been brought here, but it was me. Why am I the one stuck in this box with you?” Lyney tucked his hat down, further covering his face apart from the hair streak doing so. Slowly, his hands started shaking, and his face turned beet red. “I’m not sure what you're implying, Y/N." He said it shakily. “Lyney, think about it, because only you would know. Why am I in this box with you? Maybe the one becomes two has to do with why I am in the box, and by finding out we can get out.” “Y/N, I have feelings for you. That’s why you're in this box with me. After you left that day, I kept thinking about the riddle, and a thought came across my mind that maybe it would bring the lover of the person who goes inside the box and force them to confront something. It was just a theory, and when I got in and couldn’t get out, my fears came true that you would be following me into the box. So now that you're here, it's all in the open now, I, Lyney, have feelings for you. For as long as I can remember, when you started working here, I fell in love with your viewpoint of life. I fell in love with your sense of adventure and your excitement for the things around you. How could I not have fallen in love with such a wonderful girl? I love you, Y/N, and I always have.” Looking at the boy now, he was still shaking and still red. He looked nervous, for sure, but somewhat relieved to get these feelings off his chest. “Lyney, I love you too. I always have since I started working here, seeing your attitude toward others and your craft. How could I also not fall in love with you?”

Suddenly, the box shot you and Lyney out. While being shot out, you could hear Lynette be on the number thirty, making you guess that within the box, time passes extremely slowly. Adjusting to your current surroundings, you see Lyney standing on top of the box. He was holding your bridal style with one hand, and with the other, he held a bouquet of roses. With a hand full of roses, he used it to wave to the audience as they all cheered and shouted for his spectacular performance. He then looked over at you, with roses in hand, and put them gently into your hands. “These are for you, Mademoiselle." He said it with a wink and a soft smile. “Thank you, Lyney.” You smiled softly at him. You’ll never forget this magic performance for the rest of your life. After all, it was the performance that made you and Lyney confess your feelings to each other.

#genshin headcannons #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin x reader #lyney x reader #lyney and lynette #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #lyney #genshin oneshots #fluff #magic

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importantchaosgiver · 4 months

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The Griffin And The Dragon:

For Now, Goodbye

Summary: (Y/N) knows it's time to go home. But what she didn't expect was a goodbye from an unlikely person...

Warnings: None

******

No One's POV

The sun hadn't began peeking over the horizon when (Y/N) was nudged awake by Alcatrax. She let out a groggy groan as she felt the hard beak nudging her hand before his tail whacked her in the face making her sit up with a start. Alcatrax's piercing yellow eyes glittered with amusement at his rider's unimpressed look. "Very mature. I am awake now," she huffed underneath her breath, pulling the covers off and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Her bare feet touched the cold stone floor, making her flinch a little before standing up entirely. Her arms stretched above her head as she yawned. Time to get ready to head home.

(Y/N) brushed through her unruly hair (which was almost always frizzy whenever she woke up) before getting changed into a new dress and breeches since she would be on Alcatrax for the better half of five to seven hours on the long flight. Once she was deemed presentable, her and Alcatrax headed outside. Where no one else was. Her parents were most likely still asleep of getting ready. (Y/N) stifled a yawn behind her hand as Alcatrax went to go drink from the fountain. Then... "You are up considerably early, my lady,". (Y/N) jumped, quickly turning around to see...

"Your grace? You... uh, yes. It takes a while to get to and from Concordia," she said, regaining her composure from the sudden fright. Viserys stood there with a soft look, wearing a white shirt, black breeches and boots, having just came from his bed chambers. Most likely at least. "I see," he said. It was rather quiet between them for a moment. "I... wanted to thank you for coming to the funeral. Aemma would have been happy," Viserys said softly. (Y/N) nodded gently. "She was a good friend and woman. I wish there was more I could do and say. But, she was truly a rare soul," she said with a kind smile. Viserys nodded in agreement. That she was. "Tell me, my lady. How come you can ride such a magnificent beast?" he asked, glancing at Alcatrax who was cleaning his feathers, his lion like tail swishing from side to side. "Some believed we have ancient magic to communicate with creatures. From the mightiest beasts to the tiniest mouse. Our history is as much as a mystery to anyone," she said with a light chuckle. "I see. And... was Daemon interested in your history? I saw you talking to him," Viserys explained.

Oh, that. (Y/N) let out a small and nervous chuckle. "No, he was telling me how much I intrigued him. Considering how far I came with my parents to pay our respects," she explained nervously, putting her gloves on. The king nodded in understanding. Although, he took felt uneasy. Daemon was never one to be spontaneous. He had a reason for everything. Especially if it included a foreign princess. And, if Viserys was honest, he almost didn't blame Daemon. The princess was rather beautiful. But, he didn't dwell on that fact too much.

"Well, I wish you safe travels, my lady. And you are always welcome here should you desire to come and visit," he said with a smile. "Thank you, your grace," (Y/N) said and returned his smile with a curtsy. He headed back inside as Maximus and Galene came out with their griffins. "What was the king discussing with you?" Galene asked her daughter with a curious expression. "Nothing much, mother. He just expressed how glad he was we came," she explained, mounting Alcatrax. She didn't mention when Viserys said she was welcome any time. She didn't believe it was a big deal.

But it was. As the three griffins set off, more than one pair of eyes watched. Daemon watched from the streets. He thought of Princess (Y/N). How she was perfect in every way. Her features, her posture and poise. Not to forget that level of sass she gave him. Oh, he was going to have fun with this one. Another set of eyes belonged to Otto Hightower who had been observing the foreign royalty ever since their arrival. He didn't like how mystical and magical Concordia was and its inhabitants were just as bad in his options. In addition, (Y/N) seemed like a threat to his plans. She was kind, too kind. She was pretty, young and smart with wit to match and wisdom. She had the capacity for being the perfect suitor. He had to play his cards right. The last pair of eyes was Viserys himself. He watched the griffins soar through the dark blue sky as the morning began, yet no sunlight was visible yet. To meet these royals was like a breath of fresh air. No ambition, no pressure. They were there out of the kindness of their hearts no matter how many viewed that as a weakness. No, kindness wasn't a weakness in their culture. It was a strength.

Could something flourish from here? Or would the outcome be as clouded as ever? Only time can tell...

******

Part 3! Well, technically chapter 2. But, whatever. Now, real question: Which one do you think will win? Daemon or Viserys? I know it may stray from the original plot, but I'm going to try and make it relate to it or follow some of the original plot. But, tensions are rising...

#house of the dragon #viserys targaryen #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #otto hightower #alicent hightower #viserys x reader #daemon x reader #fantasy

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sheep-from-rad · 2 years

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Safe with me (SAGAU Scaramouche x reader) Note: Guess whose birthday is it(Oct 16)? Yes it’s mine and Xinyan!! My school might start face-to-face classes in November and honestly I am not feeling it. I wanna run away. Also, this is bordering platonic because Scaramouche is my baby like I heard his backstory and I went ‘screw this I’m adopting him’ PS. This fanfic looks better in my head. I wrote it and told myself...'wth did I just wrote' Warnings: injuries (non graphic), violence (non-graphic), OOC (you’ll see why) Masterlist

Scaramouche let out a harsh command as his robot marched forward through the rainforests. Supposed he already gave up on everything and just started living his life a few months ago but the so-called heroes of this world just made him lose it. ‘I’m losing my mind’, Scaramouche thought. He never once thought that he will be working together with someone and that someone being the mighty traveler themself. Who would have thought that one fateful meeting would lead to this?

Scaramouche staggered as he struggled to find a shelter from the coming rain. He is used to just resting wherever possible but he might not be able to fend himself right now if he becomes careless. Dottore has set him up for failure and he was basically using him as a scientific experiment. In this world, in order to get a material , one should pay a price or work hard for it and he knows that it will happen. His body felt like it was being torn and being made each and every day and at the end Dottore, much like his creator, threw him away after deeming his work insufficient.

He cursed mentally as a group of fungi spotted him. He readied himself, ignoring the pain that bloomed when he drew his weapon. ‘I trained myself too hard’, he gritted his teeth. ‘I’m not gonna be defeated by mere plants’. One, two, three, four down. Scaramouche thought it was over until a hard push knocked him off his feet and into the ground. It would be nice if he just fell in the group, he can just easily get up but he was falling in the darkness. It was the same darkness when he was first betrayed, the only difference is that the thunder is not calling his name.

Behind his giant mech, few people who named themselves as friends of the traveller are marching for the same cause: freeing their creator. He remembered the first time they both had a deep talk. They argue that they are not the creator and they are simply just like the traveller minus the flairs for battle. That one day they just woke up to a whole different world and the aranaras claimed them to be a god. Back then, Scaramouche wanted to hate them for allowing his creation but he remembered the old books inside Tenshukaku.

It was a story of an ancient absent god whose name was forgotten by its people. They weren’t the original creator of the world but they are the god who nurtured and taught the people of kindness and knowledge of how to live. It was the story of an ancient absent god who was akin to the anemo archon: let the people have their freedom and will only interfere if the problem is really severe. It was a story of a god who everyone thought was dead but they have been missing for thousands and thousands of years.

“You need to eat”, they said as they placed a bowl of freshly cooked food in front of him. It has been weeks since he has fallen down the Varuna contraption and is now adjusting to his new life together with talking vegetables. He eyed the food before turning away, opting to watch the aranara who was walking by. “I’m no human. I don’t need to eat.” It turned out that he was found by one of the arenas after he fell down the contraption and even though his identity is not known, they did not leave him alone. You sat across from him and turned to your own bowl. “Albedo is not human too but he makes good food and he really loves sweets”.

Ever since he was found by the cute creatures, you have been taking care of him and won’t stop pestering him. “What if I’m evil and are actually out to kill you?” he muttered quietly but it did not miss your ear. “And then the aranaras won’t have found you.” You pushed the bowl closer to his form with a warm smile that never once left your lips. Guess he won’t really be able to push you away, huh? He picked up the utensil and took a small portion and the flavour immediately spread in his mouth. ‘I can get used to this.’

The city was abnormally quiet, there were no people in sight, which is weird because the researchers of the Akademiya never sleep. The chirping from the birds are louder now and they sound even more haunting now that there’s no people around. Scaramouche unmounts the robot with the traveller and their companion right behind him. “Doesn’t this silence remind you of something, traveller?” the small fairy in the group stated. “It’s like that time Dottore took control of everyone.”

Scaramouche excitedly walked home carrying large bags of fruits and spices. While he is still a criminal, a few people around Sumeru have warmed up to him and they have not been trading plants every few weeks. This week he has meat that came from the ruler from the desert and spices from Gandharva ville. Maybe tonight they could try that curry recipe that the traveller gave them or maybe they could try some recipes from another nation. Scaramouche found himself as not a picky eater but he is biassed towards food that is rich in flavour like Chicken Tofu pudding.

Instead of the aranara singing, he was greeted by the Varanara outside the dreams. Immediately worry started blooming in his chest, hands shaking, struggling to keep the large bags up. He fears he got abandoned again but it is impossible because they never once pulled away even though he showed bad behaviour. “Scara! You’re here!” Paimon screeched out. He is still getting used to their presence being friendly towards him but Paimon’s voice is something that for sure will take longer time.

“What is happening?” he collected himself, looking at the tiny fairy who was flailing her equally tiny arms frantically. She rubbed her head in confusion (or was it being unable to word out what just happened?), ready to spat out everything in a scrambled pot of words but she was saved by the traveller who is brandishing a bloodied sword with them.

“Our enemies took them.”

Their group climbed the stairs towards the akademiya and they were greeted by mind controlled citizens. “The two of you go up!”Cyno shouted. “Alhaitham and I can handle them!” The traveller gave them a nod as they ran further up. Scaramouche swears that if they touch a single hair on their head, he will go berserk. The moment Dottore let go of him months ago, a new project has started: breaking the original god to gain control of the whole Teyvat and that is one project that he will prevent with his both hands if it ever happens.

“I know you were going to come”, Dottore and his masked self emerged from the door. It is just them, Dottore, and the traveller now. Scaramouche drew his weapon, ready to fight his former colleague anytime now. “Let them go”, he warned. Dottore only smiled at the two of them. “What for? If you don’t know it yet, you’re the one that leads them to us. Tsaritsa would be so proud of you.”

Cyno and Alhaitham joined their ranks and soon a few fatui joined Dottore as well. “If you want your god back and then you might as well have a duel with me.” Mentally, Scaramouche sighed. ‘What are you going to do? Slap me with a textbook?’

“You know the sky is not real right?” Scaramouche found them sitting on top of the giant leaves. You only smiled at him, putting a finger on your lips and then looking at the sleeping Aranara on your lap. Time passes weirdly inside Varanara given that it is located inside a dream and a day inside there might just be an hour outside. Scaramouche will not admit it but if a world locked between a dream and a frozen time could give him love that he didn’t get and then he will gladly stay inside forever.

“Many moons ago, the sky was so dark that people were scared to even look at the night sky”, you started. Scaramouche took the space on your side, resting his head on the giant leaf as he stared at the sky. “Some people, due to fear, even said that the sky is cursed and it beckons evil if you stare long enough on it.” You gently put the sleeping Aranara down next to him. “While everything outside this dreamworld is fake, it is still good to find something that is worth living for right?”

Bodies after bodies fall but the numbers don't go down. The more people they fight, the more comes up. The group is not fighting the controlled people using their weapons but they instead just hit the best points to render them unconscious. They can’t really kill anyone so the best option they can do is to dodge their weapons. It’s strange how Dottore was able to control everyone just by using the Akasha terminal but then again the people of Sumeru had it coming.

“Scaramouche behind you!”

Scaramouche turned around to see Dottore running to him in full speed with sword on hand but before he could even get close, a giant dome of dendro enveloped him, taking him away from everyone. “I can lead you to them but you need to grab them fast”, he recognized the voice as the Dendro Archon herself.

“Why should I trust you?” he asked. He doesn’t have trust in anyone, especially archons. The dendro archon could be trapping him right now as they talk and he can’t help but raise his weapon. “I may not be as powerful as the other archons but I will never let my voice let someone astray.” In a flash he found himself deep within the Akademiya’s library and before he knew it, Scaramouche was running.

Way before the three moons hang in the sky, the world is enveloped in darkness. Humans prosper within daylight but whenever the sun goes down fear and terror also prospers. Alarmed, a young god of kindness and humility from above the sky asked the highest for their favour: they asked for the stars and the moons. Soon, the night is loved like people do when the sun is out but the young god knows the rule of the world. IF you want something, you have to pay the price. The bigger the demand, the bigger exchange.

Soon, the young god is now walking alongside mortals. They taught everyone how to be safe at night, how to take care of everyone, and most of all how to be kind. But nothing in this world stays the same. People rose to power, so did the newer gods. With Violence and bloodshed and teachings of kindness all forgotten, the young god then vanished.

He didn’t waste any time to take them out of the structure that they are currently sleeping in. “I’m going to take you and everyone away from here. I will handle my people.” He heard the dendro archon once again speak before they got transported near Varanara. Maybe Varanara needs to be locked in the dream longer to keep everyone safe.

Taglists: @uchihaeirin | @chihawari | @tinandabin

@eccedentesiast-sapphic | @zuri-feather

#genshin impact scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #sagau scaramouche #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you

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